Sorry it took so long, guys! I'm on school holidays again, now... should be able to pump out a few more chapters if the interest is still there!
Disclaimer:
This chapter contains an opinion about the significance of the power of heart. This opinion has been stated by an eco-villain, and the author does not share or condone Hoggish Greedly's personal views. I'll plead the fifth amendment on that one...
Oh yeah, and I don't own Captain Planet, or make any money whatsoever from this fic...unfortunately.
Rated T: Minor swearing
Alternate Destination
Chapter Fifteen
Looten Plunder was feeling restless. Perhaps it was the cramped, airless room which seemed to have an inch of dust coating every surface within his limited scope. Perhaps his reaction was influenced by the second individual within the room, who was currently working diligently at a small computer terminal in the corner. "Lucky Leo" was known to be an expert hand at forging documents, and since Plunder was now missing a passport, the eco-villain had arranged a meeting.
Most of his 'colleagues' had boarded a flight to Oslo the day before, eager to catch up with the planet-brats in Europe. The only exception was Hoggish Greedly, who had been recognized by several customers at a Manila McDonald's restaurant. His arrest was largely due to the latest headline to grace the local news (Pig-Man: Wanted for International Hijacking!) and his rather obnoxious behavior towards the staff. This was the problem with resembling a stout-bodied, short-legged omnivorous mammal: his unsightly appearance had remained with the rescued passengers and they had quickly described him to the police. Greedly had been carted off, screaming in fury at having to leave his numerous 'Quarter Pounder' burgers behind, while Sludge and Bleak had slunk off into the background, escaping detection.
The others had flown out soon after and Plunder had eagerly let them go,relieved to be rid of their irritating ignorance and stupidity. Plunder had sent Argos with them, in order to keep tabs on their progress (or, lack of). Only Dr Blight had stayed behind in Manila with him, since she assumed what Plunder himself had suspected since arriving in the Philippines: that the planet-brat's had attempted to throw them off track by sending them on a wild goose chase.
"Why the heck would they go to Europe, anyway?" Blight had scowled at the ticketing counter the day before, adjusting her pink business suit and peering over the desk at the computer screen. "Surely they'd go and find the Fire-Bug in the..."
Plunder had silently agreed with her, keeping a suspicious eye on the armed military police strolling past the check-in terminals. Now it was just him and Babs... with no sign of the enigmatic Zarm.
Probably fawning over his dead pet, he thought with malicious reasoning. So much for the great plan.
Zarm had pretty much vanished after the whole farm-house debacle, probably stewing over the enormous setbacks that had ruined their carefully laid-out plans. Plunder didn't mind too much, though. The spirit was a mite unpredictable, and the eco-villain knew that he and Blight would have better luck finding the Planeteers independently. Still, he had no doubt that Zarm was concocting his back-up plan from whatever other-worldly existence the spirit was currently inhabiting.
Back to reality, Plunder watched with little interest as the details page of his passport was carefully arranged on the screen, complete with security marks and bar code. As the data was scanned onto a blank US passport page, Plunder suddenly sneezed, nearly launching himself off his metal barstool in the process. Swearing loudly, he repositioned himself and checked his watch, his patience level having just about expired. He didn't know whether it was the dust that was aggravating him so much, or the fact that the little Filipino man kept looking up and attempting to engage him in conversation using broken English.
He sat upright, his hands clutching the side of the stool in a vice-like grip as he eyed the finished product. He had a new passport, a new identity and renewed motivation. Plunder was ready.
Handing over his Rolex watch to the little man as payment, Plunder nodded his thanks and stepped out of the shop-front, glad to be free from the oppressive atmosphere within. He could now leave the country. Plunder scanned the quiet street, wondering where Blight had gotten to with the car. Muttering indistinctly under his breath, he turned to the right and strolled towards a tobacco shop. He entered the tiny store and browsed the merchandise, filling in time while he waited for the scientist to return from whatever mystery errand she was running.
The delicious smell of bacon and eggs eventually broke through Wheeler's deep slumber, causing his stomach to rumble in anticipation of a decent, home-cooked meal. He opened his eyes and blinked several times, waiting for his blurry vision to clear. As the room slowly come into focus, Wheeler shuffled himself closer to the blanket-shrouded form beside him, enjoying the proximity and the calming effect her presence held. Wheeler's content was short-lived, however, when he realized that Linka's body had been replaced by a large mauve pillow with ruffled edges... which he was currently cuddling with excessive force.
Wheeler sat up immediately and looked around, before swinging his legs over the side of the sofa and stumbling towards the door. As he entered the kitchen, a tangible sense of relief flooded over him when he caught sight of Linka, sitting at the kitchen counter with his mother and tucking into a hearty breakfast. She had obviously showered recently, since her brown locks were damp and pulled back into a messy pony-tail. She had also changed into a fresh set of clothes; a pair of blue jeans and a crisp, white button-up shirt, probably courtesy of his mother. Linka soon registered his presence and looked up, obviously amused at his disheveled appearance.
"I am still here," she laughed, her eyebrows raised as he approached the counter and took a seat.
"Just checking," he muttered, swiping a piece of buttered toast of her plate. "That looks really good," he observed, glancing up at his mother with a hopeful look. Fixing her son with a bemused stare, Katherine stood and retrieved the ingredients from the fridge and set to work.
Propping his elbows on the counter, Wheeler turned and watched Linka finish her meal, his chin resting in his palms. She ate self-consciously, uncomfortably aware of the American's intense scrutiny. As the Russian popped the last piece of bacon into her mouth, she jabbed her fork in Wheeler's direction.
"You know, it is rude to stare at people while they are eating," she commented, regarding him out of the corner of her eye with a slight smile. "After four years, I would have expected your manners to have improved slightly..."
"Nah, I'm still a jerk, when it comes to..." he replied, before trailing off, having completely lost his train of thought. Instead, he continued observing his subject as she sipped her orange juice. She seemed like the same 'old' Linka in so many ways: same habits, same physical features, the same ability to cut his ego down to size when needed... but there was something else, something that the American had been struggling to put his finger on, until now. She seemed to carry herself with a newfound confidence... not to mention the fact that her whole demeanor had softened considerably since her return.
There are definitely changes, he concluded, as Linka finished her drink, placed the glass on the counter and returned his stare with playful intensity.
"I can play this game, too, Wheeler!" she chided. After about thirty seconds of staring fixatedly at each other, Wheeler completely shocked himself by being the first to back down, unable to continue. "Ha!" she exclaimed, jumping to her feet in triumph and slapping him on the back. "You seem to be losing your touch, Yankee!"
She grabbed her breakfast dishes and trotted over to the sink, a slight spring evident in her step. "I need to find my bag," she muttered, more to herself than for Wheeler's benefit. With the taste of victory still coursing through her veins, Linka bounced out of the room, her hair swinging idly behind her.
Thoroughly distracted now, Wheeler jumped as his mother loudly set his plate down in front of him and fixed him with an amused smile.
"Nice girl," she commented, attempting to sound as indifferent as possible. "You two heading out for the day?"
"Yeah," Wheeler replied between mouthfuls, although he chose not to elaborate any further on their plans. Katherine shrugged, before taking a seat opposite her only son and glancing nervously towards the window.
"There was a brown van across the street again, when I woke up this morning. I see it there quite often, but I know it doesn't belong to any of my neighbors. Just thought you should know," she said as Wheeler stood and strode to the window. His fears were confirmed as the suspicious vehicle came into view, partially obscured by a street sign. Wheeler frowned, replacing the lace curtain and returning to the kitchen counter. He hurriedly popped the last piece of bacon into his mouth and tossed his dirty dishes into the sink.
"Betta' go, Ma," he said, before placing a hasty peck on her cheek and scanning the small apartment for the missing Russian. "I got bad guys to fry!"
" 'Kay," she replied, "be careful... and tell Linka that she needs to come back for her dress."
"Yep, I... hang on a minute!" He turned and and rounded on his mother accusingly, shocked that she seemed to be aware of the Russian's true identity. "Did she tell you?"
"Wheeler, you're mother was not born yesterday." Linka remarked as she re-entered the kitchen and gave his mother a brief hug. Having located her bag, the girl was now waiting at the front door with a look of abject impatience. "It seems that the cat is now out of the sock, Yankee!"
"Out of the bag, you nerd," he muttered under his breath, earning himself an icy glare from both women. "Hey, it was a term of endearment!"
"Whatever! They are waiting for us, we have to go." Linka reminded him as she waved goodbye to Katherine and moved into the communal hallway. She was soon out of sight, leaving Wheeler standing next to the kitchen counter, a forlorn expression on his face.
"You'd better go, " Katherine gently pressed, walking him to the door.
"I don't remember her being this bossy..." he complained, peering around the entrance as if half expecting Linka to jump out and drag him into the street by the collar of his shirt.
"Bye, Jay, " she laughed, hugging him for what seemed like an eternity while Wheeler struggled to disengage himself from her embrace.
"Yeah, all right Ma... I got a reputation, you know," he grumbled as she finally stepped away. "Just keep the cleaning appliances locked away, will ya... I don't wanna be clobbered with a rabid vacuum cleaner when I drop in again."
Katherine snorted in indignation as she moved back inside the apartment, leaving the door slightly ajar as she peered after Wheeler's retreating figure. She watched her son saunter down the hall with his hands in his pockets, his hunched frame and wide gait so instantly familiar to her. As he disappeared from view, she closed and locked the door securely behind her.
The quiet apartment seemed a lot smaller now that they were gone, their presence replaced by a definite chill pervading the atmosphere of the area. Katherine shivered slightly, wondering why the air had turned so frigid- it was late spring, after all. She turned the heating unit on and stood in front of it for a few minutes, glancing out the window and into the street beyond. Mrs Sloane soon glimpsed Wheeler and Linka crossing the road and walking towards the intersection. As they passed the stationary brown van, Wheeler seemed to dodge behind the tail end of the suspicious vehicle. She watched on in shock as he shoved something into the exhaust pipe, before quickly rejoining Linka and pulling her towards the subway station.
What the hell is he doing?
"What did you do that for?" Linka hissed at him as they approached the subway steps. She peered over her shoulder and eyed the van nervously, alarmed to see two men step out of the car and amble in their general direction. An engine sounded from somewhere behind them as Wheeler grabbed her arm and pulled her into the doorway of a shabby convenience store.
"Wheeler! What is..."
BANG!
A massive explosion echoed through the street, the blast causing the front windows of the store to rattle. Linka gasped as the sound of car alarms began sounding in all directions, adding to the calamity of the situation. The Russian placed her hands over her ears and joined Wheeler at the doorway as he gleefully observed the two men from the van turn around and race back towards the scene of the blast. The van was now billowing thick plumes of smoke as the mystery men reefed the door open and dragged a third man out of the drivers side-seat.
"Wheeler! Did you do that?" Linka exclaimed, glancing around nervously as the American gripped her shoulders and gently pushed her out of the store.
"They were watching the apartment," he explained, directing her towards the ticket machine. "I stuck an apple into their exhaust pipe!"
Linka lent against the side of the machine and crossed her arms as Wheeler fumbled around for change, still unable to wipe the grin off his face.
"You could have hurt them!"
"They were tracking us, Linka. They've been looking for me for years..."
"Da, " Linka replied with a hint of impatience in her voice, "and it looks as if they have found you,"
Rolling his eyes, Wheeler turned and walked off towards the subway, Linka struggling to keep up with his brisk pace. "Yeah, and I'm kinda' intent on losing them again, if that's alright with 'Little Miss Goody-Two Shoes' here,"
Linka gaped at him as he sat on the bench and continued to almost defiantly meet her glare. "You are impossible, Wheeler... when are you going to grow up?" she scolded, but despite her disapproval, she sat down beside him anyway.
He sighed, shaking his head as her familiar comment hit the mark. "Well, I'm glad to see that some things haven't changed for you after all this time," he muttered darkly, oblivious to Linka's wounded expression. They sat in an awkward silence for a few minutes, observing the passing figures with little interest. Linka clutched her bag tightly against her chest and lent back, sneaking furtive glances at the American who was currently hunched over in his seat. Elbows resting on his knees, Wheeler's face was hidden from her view and angled towards the filthy subway floor.
Why must I always insult him?
"Nyet," she whispered as the train approached the platform, but her comment received no response. After a moment's hesitation, she shuffled closer towards him and gently touched his cheek with the back of her hand, her action gaining his immediate attention. He turned and looked up in surprise as she smiled at him, her steady composure shaken somewhat by the intense shade of blue in his eyes. The carriages violently whipped past them, blowing a Hershey's wrapper across their feet as she struggled to find the words to convey her feelings.
"You seem to be the only thing that has remained the same, Wheeler... and I am glad for this. God knows, everybody else is... changed to me." With that, she reluctantly withdrew her hand, stood with her bag and walked towards the last carriage. Wheeler watched her go, the brief pressure of her touch still warming his skin in in an pleasant manner. Deep in thought, the distracted American barely noticed Linka's head peek out of the carriage doors.
"Yankee! Are you coming, or shall we swing by and pick you up later?"
"Oh, shit!" he exclaimed, already off the seat and sprinting towards the carriage. Linka giggled, an amused grin lighting up her face as he cleared the rapidly closing doors just in time. He pushed his way through the crowded space, effectively backing Linka into an adjacent corner and raising his arms on either side of her waist to grip the guard-rails. As the train lurched into motion, the crowd shifted in response and Wheeler found himself pressed against Linka's body.
"Sorry, babe," he murmured, his chin resting affectionately on her forehead.
"No, you are not," she replied, her voice muffled against his shirt and barely perceptible.
He chuckled, aware of Linka's slight discomfort and the intense heat radiating from her face. "All right, you got me there," he admitted, resisting the temptation to slip an arm around her waist. A shot of adrenaline surged through his body as he attempted to ignore the feel of her soft, scented hair. The fact that the crown of her head barely reached his shoulders only increased her vulnerability in his eyes, adding to the fierce sense of protectiveness he felt for her.
"Strange day, isn't it? How about that weather?"
The deep voice came from his left as Wheeler looked up, sincerely relieved by the interruption to his rambling thoughts. The American raised his eyebrows as he regarded the tall man in his 30's, clutching a newspaper under one arm and holding the roof rail with the other.
"Hadn't noticed, actually," Wheeler replied, his interest piqued. "Why? What's going on?"
"It's on the news! Where the hell have you guys been for the last 48 hours? Under a rock?"
"I... um, we've been out of town," Wheeler explained, waiting patiently for an explanation. Linka turned her head slightly beneath his chin, listening intently to the man who by then had retrieved his paper from under his arm and unfolded it for their benefit. Wheeler peered at the front headline in shock as Linka's hands gripped his sides tightly and squeezed.
"Wheeler," the girl breathed as she craned her neck over his arm and scanned the article, reading in a low voice.
"Day Becomes Night... authorities are baffled by the unusual weather patterns circulating throughout North America and the rest of the world. Meteorologists have no explanation for the cold front which has moved through the southern states, nor the shorter days which have caused havoc for farmers who depend on extended sunlight during the summer months. Yesterday's sunset in Arnette, Texas was recorded at 4:25 pm, some 2.5 hours earlier than the national average..."
"Weird, huh? They're saying that it's starting here in New York too, ya know."
"Boshe moy! But I did not notice anything this morning," Linka said, incurring a nod of agreement from Wheeler.
"Seriously, guys... when you get off, check out the sky. No clouds, but it seems quite overcast. It's kinda eerie, if you ask me."
"What's happening everywhere else?" Wheeler was curious about the phenomenon occurring in other states and countries, apparently located on another page of the newspaper. The stranger struggled to recall the information.
"Um, I think Japan reported flooding... Australia and South East Asia have had a sudden heat wave... in the middle of winter, mind you... temperature was past 105 degrees yesterday, apparently."
"You're kiddin' me?"
"Nope... they've had thousands of people admitted to hospital for heatstroke, and quite a few elderly people died yesterday because of it."
Wheeler contemplated this new information silently as Linka continued to bombard the stranger with questions, leaning against Wheeler's chest and tightly gripping his right arm to steady herself against the movement of the train. The train slowed down as it approached another Manhattan station, and Wheeler instinctively knew that the next stop would be their own. He bent down and picked up Linka's backpack from between her feet and threw it over his shoulder.
"We gotta go, babe," he said, thanking the stranger for his assistance. The man waved as Wheeler grabbed Linka's hand and led her through the mass of people, towards the carriage exit. As the the doors opened, they swiftly made their way out of the station and into the street. Upon reaching the surface, they moved aside to let the crowd pass unobstructed.
"That guy was right," Wheeler remarked, "We didn't even notice."
They stood beside a small tobacconist shop and observed the unblemished sky; it's usual light-blue luster was now tinted with gray, creating a somber, dull atmosphere.
"What time is it, anyway?" asked Wheeler, buttoning up his jacket to stifle the chill permeating the air. "And why is it so darn cold?"
Linka didn't reply. Instead, she gazed up at the flock of crows moving some distance above their heads, squawking loudly. She felt unsettled; even the beauty of the passing formation of birds did nothing to calm her nerves.
"This is not right, Wheeler..."
"Yeah, hon... I kinda figured that one out for myself," he replied, his eyes not straying from sky. "I saw that in a movie, once."
"What?"
"The birds, flying together like that! It was a disaster movie, I think." Pulling her onward, they crossed the street and walked southbound, Wheeler struggling to recall the name of the movie. "Damn, what was it?"
"I do not think it really matters, Wheeler. They are leaving, anyway... probably for safer ground." The thought troubled her deeply, compounded by the freak weather and unnatural light. She shivered, mildly annoyed that she had left her jacket at Katherine's apartment. As if on cue, she felt Wheeler's arm drape around her shoulders and she snuggled into his side, desperate for his warmth.
"Will you stop worrying? We'll meet the others, team-beam Cap, save the world and be back in time for lunch!"
"It is Zarm." In Linka's eyes, there was no other plausible explanation for the occurrences. "I know it is. He is planning something."
As they approached the B&B, Wheeler stopped at the front steps and gripped her shoulders. He sighed, before lifting her chin gently and meeting her eyes. "So what if it is Zarm? He's never beat us before. We're older and wiser now... " he said, although was distracted by her cheeky smirk, directed at the last comment. "Shut up, Linka!" he laughed, shaking her slightly. " Alright, I'm just older... but we'll get rid of it for good this time."
Linka opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by a high-pitched squeal from the top of the steps. They swiveled around in time to see Gi barrel down the stairs and careen into Wheeler's arms at full speed. Momentarily shocked, the American stumbled and nearly fell back into the street, barely managing to keep himself and Gi's weight upright.
"You jerk! Where have you been?" she exclaimed, refusing to let go of the embarrassed man. "It's so great to see you! How are you? Why didn't you come earlier? Are you going to hit Kwame? I did!"
Wheeler patted her back awkwardly, jokingly mouthing help me! to a bemused Linka. The Russian laughed, but remained where she was, reluctant to intervene on the moment. "All right... get off me, woman!" he muttered, giving her a brief hug nonetheless.
"Sorry, Wheeler... been so long, you know." Gi stepped back and smiled at him, her round face reflecting a great fondness for the American. "C'mon, you two... the others are upstairs. We have a lot of catching up to do. Have you been watching the news? What's with the weather?"
As Gi dragged them both into the lobby and bombarded them with question after question, the unsettled feeling returned with a vengeance, assaulting Linka to the point of being physically ill. Swallowing the nausea, she climbed the stairs behind them, repeating Wheeler's soothing words from earlier.
It will be fine.
Cap will take care of it.
As Linka repeated the affirmations to herself, a new realization dawned on her, the implications of which caused her pulse to quicken in response. Her reaction became one of panic as she watched Wheeler alight the staircase, chatting animatedly with Gi. She froze at the top of the landing, now understanding the nature of her turbulent emotions. Her presence was, after all, a double-edged sword as Gaia's last words returned to haunt her:
"If this situation is corrected and Zarm defeated, you cannot remain here. You are now part of an alternate universe: you will corrupt this reality if you remain. Your death and consequent arrival have already altered the future in ways you cannot comprehend."
The cruel irony made her double over in pain, exacerbated by the fact that not only had they found Wheeler; but she was only just becoming aware of the feelings she held for him. His presence had instilled a sense of security: she felt safe with him and it was becoming increasingly difficult to to bury her feelings from view.
Linka hung her head, defeated and utterly devastated, knowing that she would have to eventually let him know that her presence was only temporary. At the same time, she was terrified of returning to... whatever it was that awaited her.
"Oi? Are you coming?" Wheeler voice intruded into her thoughts. He stood under the 'Exit' sign, illuminated by the green glow from the electrical device.
Startled, she hurried down the hallway and joined him. As they reached the door, Gi's voice could be heard loudly from within. Before Wheeler could turn the handle, Linka stopped him by placing her hand on his arm, her head still lowered from his gaze.
"I need to speak with you later. I have not told you everything."
Plunder exited the tobacco shop some fifteen minutes after entering it, carrying a large package of expensive cigars under his arm. Looking around, he immediately spotted the black convertible across the street and headed towards it.
Blight was waiting in the car for him, her bare legs stretched across the console and sticking out of the drivers-side window. Her culturally-inappropriate public display was drawing shocked stares from passing men and women, but 'Babs' didn't seem fazed at all by the attention.
She turned and leered at him as he climbed into the drivers seat and impatiently shoved her legs aside.
"Ow," she complained bitterly, "watch it..."
Ignoring her, Plunder started the engine but was interrupted by the sound of a cell phone. He answered his replacement handset and listened, before a delighted grin began to spread across his face. Plunder grunted a few times, then grabbed a pen from his pocket and scribbled an address on the back of his hand. Expressing his heartfelt thanks, Plunder hung up and proceeded to thump his fist on the dashboard several times, startling the scientist beside him.
"What?" she snapped, glaring at him with a mixture of anger and curiosity.
"Looks like my people have have spotted the fire-bug... he's back at home," Plunder muttered, now positive that the other Planeteers were responsible for his sudden appearance.
Blight cackled with relief at their good fortune, glad to have finally caught a break. She lent back as Plunder sped out of the car park and towards the International airport... for the second time in two days.
"Those brats have taken so much from us," she sneered, her hard eyes never straying from the windshield. Plunder knew that she was referring to her beloved computer, who had bitten the proverbial bullet after Linka had uploaded a virus into M.A.L.'s mainframe, rendering the system useless. She sniffed pitifully, causing Plunder to wonder how someone with the intelligence of Dr Blight could care more for an electronic device than other people.
The consequences of this event were more disastrous than the Planeteers would ever realize. In the final stages of planning the time jump, several Planeteer's names had been thrown around as potential victims:
"Lets ice the red-head!"
"Nah, what about the kid?"
"Yeah, heart-boy! What the hell is that power all about?"
" I would have asked for a refund if I'd gotten that ring... or at least a money-back guarantee! Man, that power sucks!"
But it was Blight who had ended up having the final say in the vote. Without conscience or pity, she put forth Linka's name and her reasons behind it. After little discussion, the vote was unanimous.
Due to her primary role in M.A.L's demise, Linka had unwittingly signed her own death warrant.
Plunder smirked, readying himself for the forthcoming confrontation. He barely heard Blight's voice issuing from beside him.
"Promise me something," she hissed, turning to face her colleague with renewed venom. "That when we find them, you'll let me... deal with Blondie." Plunder nodded, not at all surprised by the request. The eco-villain whistled, amused at the thought. He certainly didn't envy the Russian's position right now.
"We've done it once, Babs. No reason we can't kill her again... all of them."
I'm on holidays, guys, so hopefully the next chappie will be in a few days.
Please review, I get pathetically over-excited about reading them, you know!
Sarah