Chapter eleven- Rescue Mission

Coco was getting more frustrated by the second. She'd spend hours trying to repair the glider, but each attempt to start the engine was greeted only by a puff of black smoke and the dying whirr of a failed ignition. Coco made an enraged noise and stamped her foot on the ground in a frenzied passion of anger. Kieran, from a safe distance away, shrugged with a helpless expression.

"It sounded close that time."

Coco whirled on him, her eyes flaming.

"It did not! It's exactly the same! The bloody thing just won't start for ANYTHING!"

On this last word she kicked a box of tools as hard as she could, which sent her materials sailing all over her workspace. As soon as her frustration reached its peak, it diminished. She sagged down to the ground and wrapped her arms around her folded legs. She felt simply terrible. She was so focused on the storm of despair whirling inside her that she didn't even notice when Kieran dropped down to his knees beside her. When he spoke, his voice was tentative. Coco expected he was ready to jump away in case she was struck with another fit of rage. He needn't have been concerned.

"It's okay Coco. I'm…I'm not much of a judge of this kind of thing, but you look as though you're getting close. If you give it another try-"

"I've tried everything, Kieran." Coco interrupted.

She lifted her head, staring directly at the despicable piece of metal she was meant to repair. She was trying so hard to keep her tears at bay, but she lost the strength at once. Tears poured down her cheeks, and she pressed her hands to her eyes.

"It's just too hard. I've done everything I can think of, but it just won't start. Crash and Crunch are risking their lives in Australia, and we're supposed to be mounting a rescue mission. If I don't fix this thing, we'll never find the place Cortex is hiding those kids. I can't fail at this. I just can't."

A sob garbled her words, and she dropped her head against her folded knees. As she cried, she could hear Kieran's voice, speaking wistfully over her stifled sobs.

"I knew it wasn't just the glider. It's everything that's happening."

The more Coco cried, the more humiliated she became. For so many years she strove to prove the stereotype wrong. She didn't want to be the little girl that cried in the face of adversity, waiting for someone stronger to guide her out of the problem. However, the thought of the consequences of her failure overcame her. The thought of Jag and those other children caught in the clutches of that deranged scientist filled her with crippling fear. She was disgusted by her tears. She fully intended to get up and march out of the room where she didn't have to lay her eyes on that hateful scrap of machinery. However, before she could do so, she felt Kieran's hands on her shoulders.

"Coco, please look at me."

With hesitation, Coco lifted her tear-stained face to look into the eyes of her friend. In them, she felt as though she could see her own fear. It took a moment for her to realize that Kieran was scared too. He endeavored to keep his gaze focused.

"You're the only one who can do this. I wish that I had some kind of useful skill to help in this mission, but I don't. All I can do is try to help you in any way I can. You are an amazing mechanic, and I know that you're going to fix this glider. You just have to keep trying."

It was strange, but when Kieran spoke with such admiration for her skills Coco felt her uncertainty melt away. His hands on her shoulders gave her a welcome sense of security, and she was glad to have him with her. She heaved a heavy sigh. She was about to thank Kieran for his encouraging words, but suddenly something clicked inside her head.

"It's not strong enough." Her excitement surged.

Kieran furrowed his brow, not expecting such a reply.

"Um…huh?"

Coco fixed him with a triumphant grin, and gripped his face in her hands. It was amazing how much more wonderful he looked when she knew she was on track.

"My power source isn't strong enough." She said through a grin, gently shaking Kieran's head in untamed enthusiasm.

She jumped up, not even noticing she was leaving Kieran in such a dazed state. She rushed across the floor, scooping up all the tools she needed from their scattered places on the floor. She quickly unhitched the battery she had previously been using to power the glider, and searched for the one with a stronger voltage. Kieran was on his feet now, scratching behind one of his grey ears.

"Do you know what to do?"

"I had been trying to start the engine using a battery that was too weak. I need to give the engine a surge of power before it will start. A method like this will only be able to start the thing once, but that's all we need. Hop in the cockpit, and I'll yell to you when to start it up."

Coco reconnected the stronger battery to the glider's outlet, and flicked the switch. There wasn't even a flicker of hesitation this time. She knew she'd been missing something. She leaned over, just able to see Kieran's concentrating profile through the cockpit window.

"Ready?" She charged the power. "Now!"

The sound of the engine roaring to life was the best sound she'd ever heard. She gradually powered down the initial voltage, and then disconnected the power source altogether. Without any time to lose, she rolled the battery out of the way and rushed to the door. With a few short heaves, the large door out of her laboratory folded open. Kieran was still sitting rather shell shocked in the cockpit when she swung in. Without speaking, she slammed the glider door and locked it in place. She needed to squeeze past Kieran to get to the pilot's seat.

"Excuse me, sorry." She mumbled as she crossed over.

She overlooked Kieran's blushing face as she moved so close to him, instead focusing on getting to her seat without wiping out. Her overalls had been tied around at her waist, and her white t-shirt was stained with grease. As she began to lift off, she just began to realize how much of a mess her hair must have been in. However, the situation at hand was far more important than her hairstyle. She touched a red button with her thumb, and at once a flashing green light appeared on the screen. Coco grinned.

"Gotcha."

Kieran leaned forward, uncertain to what she was referring to.

"What is it?"

"That flashing dot is Cortex's location." Coco clarified as she eased the craft into the air. "That's our landing coordinates, and that should be where he took those kids."

Kieran glanced at Coco, but the gesture escaped her notice. She was too exhilarated with her success to see the extreme sense of admiration in his eyes.

"You're amazing." He whispered.

Coco turned her head, still smiling. She couldn't hear him over the sound of the engines.

"What? Did you say something?"

Kieran sat back in his chair, and hunched his shoulders slightly.

"How long do you expect until we get there?"

"No more than a half hour. It looks like it's a waterfront lab this time. Cortex never stays in one place long."

Granted, that was usually because Crash destroyed each of his bases in a consecutive order. Therefore he couldn't really be faulted for that. Coco was so glad that they were finally on their way. Hopefully, Crash and Crunch were making some headway on the toxin. As for Coco and Kieran, their only goal at that moment was to rescue those kids.

Isabella wasn't exactly sure where she stood in her situation. Her plan had been cut and dried since the beginning, and yet now here she was, in the company of the Aussie Idiot and his brawny pal. That was not how she expected her day to turn out. As the three of them sprinted through each dark corridor, Isabella considered how she felt once again fighting evil side-by-side with Crash Bandicoot. He was much like she remembered him. Lazy, idiotic, and with that strange sense of omnipresent positivity that he used to cover up his insecurities. Isabella had no patience for charades, despite how cleverly crafted they were. The look she'd seen in Crash's face when she let him know she didn't fall for his crap was rather interesting. Apparently he wasn't as deluded as she first thought. However, she supposed there was no reason to be too hard on the lug. After all, everyone dealt with their problems differently. She had no right to judge.

Along the journey, Isabella was almost ready to ask if Crash knew where he was going. He'd been leading for a while, and to the dismay of his companions neither of them could catch up. However, before she had a chance the little bandicoot burst through a door and they found themselves on rooftop. Isabella was immediately stricken with the gloriousness of the wind on her face, but she quickly dismissed it. She didn't have the time to be distracted by anything. The three of them rushed up to the strange vehicle resting on the far corner of the roof. Crash reached up and opened the door, and Isabella was immediately struck with how cramped the cockpit was. Crash gazed at the two of them with a sour grin.

"Well, looks like we'll be flying like sardines. I hope you two don't mind getting cozy?"

Both Isabella and Crunch heaved an irritated sigh almost at once, however, before either of them could reply Crash spoke again.

"Or, if Crunch doesn't mind, I don't think we have any need for that big, fluffy seat."

Isabella realized that Crash was right. Getting that big couch out of there would free up a large amount of space. Crunch stepped forward and gripped the seat, and with one monstrous tug he ripped the chair from its place and tossed it out onto the roof. Crash wasted no time hopping in.

"Welcome aboard, friends." Crash said lightly as he began to start the engine.

Isabella climbed in first, and pressed herself as far against the furthest wall as possible. Even without the seat, it was going to be a tight squeeze. Crunch hopped in after her, and then closed the door. It didn't take long for Crash to get the vehicle ready for departure.

"Now, please remember to keep your tray tables stowed before takeoff, and remember that the muscle-headed bandicoot may be used as a flotation devise in the unlikely event we need to make an emergency stop."

"With the way you fly, that's very possible." Crunch muttered. "Shut your trap and get this thing into the air, will you?"

"Thank you in advance for flying Crash Bandicoot airlines."

Isabella couldn't resist leaning over to Crunch with a smile.

"I would imagine he'd be difficult to live with."

"You have no idea."

Isabella stifled a chuckle of amusement. Crash Bandicoot was irritating enough to her, and she hardly spent any time with him. She pitied a poor creature like Crunch who had the misfortune of having to withstand Crash's ridiculousness on a regular basis. Even the thought was enough to make her itch to punch something. Isabella's thoughts were soon occupied on other matters as Crash leaned on the acceleration and the small craft jolted forward. Isabella gritted her teeth and gripped the seat in front of her in instant uneasiness. Crunch had obviously caught her reaction, because he offered a dry snicker.

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

Isabella had a sneaking suspicion she wouldn't.

Jag was far too angry to even think about being scared. After a few hours within the holding tank, a group of scientists finally made their appearance. They required a specimen for testing. Since there was no chance of an escape, at least not then, Jag quickly stepped forth and volunteered to be the one to go. Camlin seemed ready to stop him, but his obvious fear kept him silent. Jag, for his part, did not worry. He was glad he could occupy the scientists to keep their hands off his friends.

He was taken to a strange chamber with bright lights, and objects of the kind that Jag had never seen before. Everything appeared sharp, slick and metal, and was utterly alien to Jag. However, there was something frighteningly disconcerting about the place. He was strapped down into a seat that was too large for him, and he waited there for a few, wary moments. Then, out of the darkness, a man appeared. He wasn't so much scary as he was disproportioned and odd. He was a squat creature with thin arms, and half his face was coated in metal. Perhaps the strangest aspect of the man's appearance was the rocket that stuck out of the side of his head. Jag then decided that this was the same doctor who'd inspected them when they first arrived. The underling of a man named Dr. Cortex, whoever that was.

The doctor was not unkind toward his patient. In fact, Jag was rather surprised by the care the doctor took in injecting his needle. However, despite this, it still hurt. Jag watched, mesmerized, as his blood traveled up through a thin tube into a plastic bag. As he became entranced by the sight, a small blossom of panic emerged in the pit of his stomach. It was a claustrophobic feeling, not unlike the kind Jag sometimes experienced inside Coco's home. Any time he found himself restricted from the vast jungle wilderness, he felt smothered. Adding to that sense of restrictiveness was the fact that he didn't know what these creatures planned to do to him, or his friends.

After several minutes, the doctor removed the needle and informed the guards that he received enough, and to return the specimen to his cage. Jag was astonished how much weaker he felt after the procedure, and as he was dragged back to the holding cell he began to grow very angry. Whatever those monsters were up to, Jag knew that it was something underhanded. He could not trust that the doctors would release them after they were finished. They needed to escape, at once.

As soon as Jag had been returned to his prison he began to think up a plan of action. Camlin edged toward him, brows drawn worryingly.

"Are you okay?"

Jag hid his right arm, where a trickle of blood began to escape the punctured hole in his skin, and nodded.

"Yes."

"What did they do?"

"We need to get out of here."

"How can we? The guards stand directly by the opening. We wouldn't stand a chance against them."

Jag considered this. It was true that the guards were armed and clearly stronger than their young prisoners. However, Jag was certain that he and his friends were quicker. He gathered the group together, being careful to ensure their postures did not illustrate evidence of their conspiracy. With quiet, monosyllabic tones, Jag explained the course of action. He told everyone the next time the door opened, he and Camlin would offer a distraction so that the other children could dash through the cleared path. They would continue running until they reached a small nook that Jag had observed on the journey back, and there they would wait, concealed, until Camlin and Jag met up with them. When everyone was clear of the plan, there was nothing to do but wait.

Fortunately, they didn't wait long. Jag could hear the sound of movement behind the iron door, and his instincts jumped. He turned and met Camlin's intense gaze. He'd heard it to. Jag prepared himself, his heart pounding with cold adrenaline. Once the door slid open, the group sprung into action.

Jag went straight for the first white coated human in his sights. He leapt with outstretched hands and buried his claws into the flesh of his victim. To his immediate surprise, his attack hardly caused the scientist to react at all. Out of the corner of his eye, Jag spied Camlin making as much of a ruckus as possible. Although he did not possess the sharp claws of a panther like Jag, he was able to use his strength and agility to distract their captors. Thankfully, they didn't need to hold their attention for long. The rest of the children made a quick escape, darting into the shadows beyond. During Jag's lapse in attention, he felt another scientist grasp him by the scruff of the neck and tug him backward. Jag tried wriggling out of the grip, to no immediate avail. His reach was too short, and so his claws were not of any use in assisting his escape. Desperate panic had begun to well up inside him, but suddenly the scientist bucked forward and collapsed. Jag tumbled to the ground, but bounced back to his feet before he had a chance to be dazed. He wondered what had happened, when he saw Camlin vault over the fallen scientist.

"Come on." He urged, gripping Jag's hand as he barreled past.

Jag had trouble keeping up with Camlin's long strides, but he worked hard to keep up his pace. He didn't want to slow him down. They both caught up with the fleeing children quite quickly, but as soon as they reached the group they slowed to a stop. There were so many dark passages, it would be nearly impossible to choose the one that would lead them to their freedom. As Jag concentrated on what would be the best course of action, Camlin bent down to him.

"Do you know which way to go?"

Jag chewed on his bottom lip, but he didn't recognize anything from his brief leave from the containment unit. Camlin was waiting expectantly for an answer, but Jag offered a small shake of his head. At once, Jag heard echoing footfalls behind them. Whether or not they selected the right path, they needed to keep moving. Noticing the fear on the faces of the others, Jag quickly fell into the role of leader.

"We have to keep going. Follow me."

Jag took the lead, and Camlin brought up the rear. Any children who fell behind he would scoop up and carry. Jag kept his eyes open for any suggestion of an exit, but even after a few minutes of constant running they came across nothing. Wherever they were, it was an absolute labyrinth. As they continued on, Jag thought he could hear noises coming from ahead. He concentrated on discerning the sounds, but the more he did the more anxious he became. Jag suddenly slid to a stop, and the rest of the children followed suit.

"What's wrong?" Camlin called from behind.

Jag was certain of it now. They were being cornered.

"We have to hide." He returned.

He searched the area quickly, and at once an ideal hiding place presented itself to him. He ushered the children behind a large piece of machinery. At first, Jag believed they might find a way out, but he learned very soon that the adjoining space behind the machine was just a storage area. There was no alternate exit. The children immediately gathered together, hiding in the shadows as much as possible. Camlin settled beside Jag.

"What did you hear?"

"They're coming from both sides." Jag clarified, his brow furrowed as he organized the details in his mind. "I don't think we're safe here."

Camlin didn't ask any more questions. He obviously knew there was nothing more to be done. They could only stay quiet and hope for the best. Jag listened as the footsteps grew closer and closer. He sunk back against the wall, and gestured for the other children to do the same. Soon, Jag could see the scientists' feet as they stepped past the hiding place. Jag held his breath and willed them to keep going, but his hopes went unheeded. The scientists paused. Then, one tinny voice spoke out.

"Check there."

Jag gasped. He watched as two scientists began to examine the outer area of their hiding place. They were done for unless Jag could think of something. An idea came to his head instantly. He faced Camlin, and gripped his arm.

"Stay here."

Camlin looked at him with a confused expression.

"What are you-?"

Jag didn't give him the opportunity to finish his thought. He stood up, and headed for the opening. He felt Camlin make a quick grab at him, but Jag was too quick.

"Jag!" Camlin hissed, attempting to dissuade him from his foolish act.

However, Jag knew that they only had one chance, and if he could distract the scientists his friends might still have a chance. He jumped onto the chest of one of the scientists, causing him to stumble back in surprise. Jag proceeded to make as much chaos as possible before rushing down the hallway as fast as he could. As he anticipated, the scientists chased after him. Jag ran as fast as he could, but he knew his enemies were gaining on him.

He was just about to round a corner when he felt a sharp pain in his leg. The leg gave out, and he fell to the floor with a painful crash. He tried to scramble back to his feet, but his leg had gone completely numb. There was nothing else he could do. A moment later one of the scientists had gotten a hold of him and possessed such an impregnable grip that Jag could barely move. The scientist activated some kind of strange device and spoke into it.

"Doctor, we have captured one of the creatures."

There was a pause.

"Only one?"

"Yes, doctor. We have yet to find the others."

"Bring it to the laboratory, and keep searching for the rest. Dr. Cortex will be very displeased if he loses his test subjects."

Jag felt his heart jump when he heard this. Test subjects? What did that mean? Jag didn't have time to contemplate it. The numbness in his leg had spread to the rest of his body, and soon it engulfed his mind as well. His strength faded, and he collapsed into unconsciousness.