Hi everyone! Sorry for not updating sooner again but I have been so busy with school and the sequel to the Green Day story. Anyway, I'm going to stop boring you with my stupid excuses and get on with this story. This is the second last chapter, please review and tell me what you think. Have a nice day! -

"Let me go Commander!" pleaded Trouble. "I'll save Holly," he added, trying to sound like the Mud-man hero Superman.

"No! Send in my new invention! I've been working on a clone –even better than Opal Koboi's (well she wasn't exactly hard to beat, even if I do say so myself)- of you, Turnball won't know the difference," argued Foaly.

"Me!"

"Clone!"

"Me!"

"Clone!"

"QUIET!" There was silence in the van. "I'm going myself to get Holly. I am her commander after all."

"But, what if you get killed?" Asked Trouble.

"Are you trying to tell me something Kelp?" A frown appeared on Commander Root's forehead.

"Time is ticking," came Turnball's voice sweetly from the phone, which Foaly hadn't turned off. "I do hope I'm not causing you stress Julius."

"Stress? Don't know the meaning of the word!" a large vein was pulsing on the Commander's head.

"Well you always were that bit dumber than me," Turnball remarked.

"I'll get you Turnball!" bellowed Root.

"Tick tock tick tock!" laughed his brother.

"Switch that bloomin' phone off!" Foaly cut the connection.

"Right," Commander Root stood up rather creakily. "I am saving Holly! For the victory of good against evil, to get my officer back, to prove I've still got some fighting spirit, in the name of Frond-"

"In the name of Frond will you cut the crap!" Trouble shoved Root out the door and into the dark street.

Turnball's accomplices had somehow managed to switch off all the lights over the road and so Commander Root stumbled along, tripping over fuses and breathing in what smelled suspiciously like dynamite fumes.

"I'm fine, I'm Commander Root of the LEP and they don't call me that for nothing! I have my tri-barrelled water-cooled blaster," here he reached to his gun holster reassuringly. "D'oh! Well, maybe I don't have my gun but I have my status! Although I don't know what good that's going to do now," he said rather sadly as he though about his city being burned beneath him by his own brother. Police Plaza was all in darkness, all lights off and windows closed except for one on the fifth floor which creaked rather ominously as the Commander stepped inside the unlocked main door.

He had walked this corridor every morning for the past few hundred years but somehow it managed to seem very spooky as Root hurried along in the near-black; he knew that time was running out –but he didn't want to go any faster incase his heart packed in (let's face it, what use would he be then?) Now if he were Turnball, where would he hide his captive? What had his brother always wanted more than anything else? Power! And what was the most powerful place in the building? The commander's office!

"Come on Julius! You're running out of time!" bellowed Turnball over the tannoy.

"Oh God!" thought Root. "I'm never going to make it! We're never going to make it!" he didn't know when he had started to think of Holly and himself as 'we' but it sounded good. It seemed as if there had never been so many stairs to his room and it wasn't the first time that Julius wished the council weren't so stingy with their gold and had installed a lift. He hurtled up the steps – although maybe it was too late…?

Holly closed her eyes and leant her head against the wall in agony. Never had she given up before, so this was definitely a first (or a last, whatever you want to call it). So far her wrists had been burnt, her neck scratched with a piece of rope, and she was feeling pretty woozy with all the drugs they had been administering to keep her sedated. Noone was coming for her, she was going to die here.

Root's breath came in short gasps and his heart was pounding against his rib cage. He was dreading opening the door and finding…well, he wasn't sure what –but there was only one way to find out. He pushed the door, expecting a fight, but was surprised to find that it was unlocked (now that wasn't like Turnball). It was very dark and shadowy inside so he switched on the light. Had his prediction been wrong? Was Holly not here? The only thing was a pile of rags lying crumpled under the desk, when it moved he knew that it was Holly after all but couldn't decide if this was a good or bad thing because she looked so battered.

"Oh Gods Holly, what have they done to you?" He asked, expecting her to answer in her usual strong voice, but getting no reply. She looked so helpless; lying in a pool of scarlet blood with her face scarred and scratched even though she'd only been gone a couple of hours –although in Root's mind it seemed like longer- Julius felt so guilty at not getting here sooner and he just wanted to pick her up and hold her, which was what he did. Her head lolled against his chest, like she was coming home, but Root knew this thought was impossible.

He strode purposefully across the room once again this time to open the door, but he struggled. It was locked! There was no doubt about it.

"10 seconds left!" informed his mean brother, Julius could pick out the venom in his voice even over the tannoy. He couldn't believe it, he knew his sibling was nasty…but taking an innocent (and beautiful) girl's life into the equation as well? It was just plain evil. What was he going to do? He had to save Holly at least, and yet he had so few options. 9 seconds, 8 seconds, time was running out. In a flash of inspiration Root practically flew over to the window, the only other exit, he hoped that Holly would forgive him later (if they lived to forgive) and threw her gently out, where she soared downwards like an oversized bird. Now it was his turn, 5 seconds, 4 seconds, Root was sure he had enough time to escape -even if it was maybe in a body bag- …but someone above couldn't count. On 2 an explosion rocked Police Plaza, blowing the glass inwards from the windows and into Root's face. The walls crumbled and a fire began to ravage down the corridor. Julius crumbled to the ground. For the second time that day, someone in the room had given up.

Holly's lifeless body twirled to the ground to meet a certain squash on the concrete street below. Maybe if she had been conscious she would have screamed for help; as it was, it was lucky that someone was standing underneath…

Trouble hid in the shadow of Police Plaza, searching the area for criminals; even if he couldn't be inside with the action he could still make a few arrests. Suddenly he heard something approaching from above and so he drew his gun…wait a minute! It was Holly! At least, he thought it was, the thing's features were so pummelled it was hard to make out in the darkness. Nevertheless, whoever it was obviously couldn't help themselves and so Trouble reached out to catch them deftly. Now that was a rescue that would please everyone even more than a dozen captured criminals.

At that moment Police Plaza lit up with the light of a dynamite explosion and Trouble and Holly were thrown to the ground.

"Julius!" the noise had obviously brought Holly back to consciousness as she emerged coughing from a pile of rubble completely coated with dust. She struggled from the bricks, covering her eyes from the glare of the now familiar sight of flames.

"Holly! You ok?" Trouble rushed to her side and Foaly popped his head out of the van across the street where he was cowering.

"Commander! Julius! We have to get him out!"

"Em…no way! I think we'll wait for the fire brigade thank you," replied Trouble rather fearfully (but trying not to show it.)

"Well if you're not coming I'll go by myself!" she started to run towards the blaze but Trouble caught her by the red-raw wrist and it hurt her too much to break free. "We can't just stand here!" tears streamed down Holly's face and she clung desperately to Trouble as if trying to seek comfort in a harsh and volatile world. And as she watched Police Plaza act as a crematorium for Commander Root, Trouble caught something in her eyes that had always been there but never obvious until now: mourning for someone she loved and was now losing as the seconds and minutes ticked by.