"Really?"

"Yes really. My partner and I were told that there were poachers in the area hunting within park boundaries and we had to stop them. We get here and no one really knows anything but of course are willing to help, so we gear up and head out." Hobbes hoped Krang would buy it. It wasn't too far from the truth anyway.

"I see. Well, then. It certainly is unfortunate that you stumbled onto this area. I'm running a highly sensitive operation here and I'd rather not see outside parties mess it up."

"So, what, you're with the CIA or something?" Hobbes hoped he could get some information out of Krang. The more they knew, the better.

"Don't toy with me, my boy. You know perfectly well what I do. I'm sure you and your friend have already figured it out. What I want to know from you is how did you find out we were here?!"

Meanwhile, somewhere near a snowbank...

Darien groaned. He was getting cold and it was almost dark. He managed to beat the soldiers by quicksilvering and ducking into a snowdrift. The back of his head hurt. He pointedly ignored it and continued plodding through the snow.

The cabin had to be up here somewhere. Hobbes promised it was and he could trust Hobbes to be right about that.

Darien realized that if he didn't find that cabin soon, he was going to be in trouble. In all the chaos, he had lost his pack. He had no tent, no food, and no warm sleeping bag. Darien was glad he thought to put the extra counteragent in his jacket. If the pains in his head were any indication (and he certainly was not going to expose bare skin in this weather just to look at the indicator) he would start quicksilver madness soon. He'd better find the cabin first.

The wind suddenly picked up. Darien looked at the sky just in time to see some lovely storm clouds open up above him. Great, he muttered, just what I need. Pulling himself together Darien picked up his pace. To keep his mind off the storm and his impending insanity, he thought of ways he could get The Official back. Halfway through his idea about stringing The Official on a clothesline, he spotted a light through the snowy haze.

Darien picked up his pace, running as fast as knee-deep snow would allow towards the light. This must be the cabin, he thought, either way, it's gotta be warmer in there than it is out here.

Suddenly, the light went out. Darien stopped. Maybe they just went to bed, he thought. Or maybe it was the quicksilver madness making me hallucinate. No matter. Darien fixed his gaze on where the light had been and walked steadily towards it.

He could feel the numbness building in his body. Even though he was exerting himself, the temperature had dropped below zero. The windchill only made things worse. He was told that temperatures, with windchill, could drop well below zero, 30 or 40 below being normal.

Darien plodded on. He was starting to feel detached from his body. He thought he was keeping a steady pace, but he felt like he was gently floating. He no longer knew where he was, but he was sure he was heading in the right direction. He could no longer feel the pain in his head.

Suddenly he slammed into something hard. He paused, trying to digest this new bit of information. It was a door. Or a wall. They all felt the same in a blizzard. Darien tried to knock but could barely move his arm.

"I'm a federal agent! Please let me use your radio! It's urgent! Please! It's cold. My friend's in danger..." Darien wasn't sure if the residents could hear him or if he was really saying it, but it didn't matter. Darien passed out inches from warmth.

Back at the ranch..er...encampment...

Hobbes paced up and down in his cell. He had learned more from General Krang than he was supposed to. Eavesdropping was useful and the walls in these temporary buildings weren't very thick. Krang was meeting with the rest of the buyers tomorrow via satellite.

"C'mon Fawkes, pal. Don't let me down."

Hobbes could hear the storm through the walls. The blizzard had gotten worse. He hoped Fawkes had made it.

"Okay. Gotta concentrate on something else other than Fawkesicles. What did he say about Adams? What was his part in all this?" Hobbes got to work trying to untangle this nonsense mission.

A few hours later, Hobbes was awakened by a rattling at the door. General Krang stood just inside the cell. Hobbes wondered how he could have managed to fall asleep in an enemy encampment.

"We have a report of a roving ranger calling in the little mess we made trying to pick you up. She's been notified of two very dangerous criminals in the area and ordered to shoot on sight. Provided your friend makes it to the station in this blizzard, he'll be dead before he crossed the threshold.

"Once the storm clears up, my men will be sent to the cabin to pick up his body, if it's there, and destroy any other evidence."

Hobbes looked at Krang with a cold chill spreading through his body. "You mean the ranger. You're going to kill her."

"My boy, in order to survive in this game, sacrifices must be made."

"What are you going to do with me?"

Krang looked thoughtful. "There's a cave not too far from the lake. After our business is finished here, I will arrange for you to be dropped off at the cave with some food and blankets. I like you. Seems only fair to give you a sporting chance."

"Oh thank you, sir. Your generosity amazes me." Hobbes almost sneered. "But, if I may. Don't you think it's a little dangerous to keep me around while you conduct your...business? Aren't you worried that I might, oh, I don't know...screw it up just long enough for the cavalry to arrive and wipe you out?" Hobbes tapped the walls. "C'mon, these walls weren't exactly made to keep people in."

Krang scowled. "I doubt you would want to be out there," Krang pointed towards the door "When you could be safe and warm for another day."

"Yeah whatever." Hobbes leaned back on the mattress. "Fine by me. Just tell room service dinner that sucked and could I please get a newspaper or somethin' to read. I'm really bored in here." Hobbes closed his eyes.

Krang laughed. "You are a clever one aren't you. You think you can somehow get to a radio in time to stop me."

Hobbes opened his eyes. "I don't care about you or your operation anymore. I want to find my partner alive. If I stay here, fine. I'll just try my best to stall you. If you let me go, I can look for my partner." Hobbes closed his eyes again.

"You refuse my generosity! So be it! When we go to pick up your friend's corpse, we'll leave you at the cave! Given only the bare essentials! If you're lucky, you'll die in your sleep!" Krang thundered out the door.

Hobbes smiled. Krang was losing his Colonel Sanders personality.

Hobbes sat up and began to think. If what he remembered from the map was true, he'd still be able to get to a radio before the sale tomorrow. It all depended on how soon before the sale he was dropped off.

Hobbes got to work coming up with a plan. It wasn't much of a plan, but it was better than sitting on his butt waiting.

Hours passed. Hobbes suddenly realized the storm had died down. Time to go. He prayed that wherever Fawkes was, he was still alive. "Hang on buddy," he whispered.

The door opened and Krang strode in with a couple of armed goons. Hobbes was bound and blindfolded. "Hey! What are you doing?"

"Simple, my boy. I don't really want you to see where you're going. Might give you a sense of direction." Krang motioned the soldiers to take Hobbes to a waiting truck.

Hobbes was livid. He had just been pushed down a hill. He suspected he was in front of the cave, but it was hard to tell, what with being hog tied and blindfolded. He breathing next to him.

"Well, here you go. All nice and cozy. You have a nice tent and sleeping bag. They are yours I believe. I just took out that shiny badge of yours. Might keep it as a souvenir. Before I leave you here, is there anything else you'd like to say?" Krang's tone was annoyingly smug.

"Yeah," Hobbes replied. "What's Adams's part in all this?"

Krang laughed.

In the cozy cabin...

Laura stood with her rifle raised at the door. Despite the frigid air blowing in, she didn't move. After a minute, she lowered her rifle and cautiously peered out. Nothing. She started to back into the cabin when a dark shape caught her eye. She spun around, bringing her rifle up.

Not noticing any movement, she turned her outside light on. There, covered in a light layering of snow, was a huddled figure. She gently laid the rifle against the inside wall and walked outside.

Whoever it was, was probably frozen to death by now. She couldn't see any features for the mask and snow goggles covering his/her face. Laura grabbed the mysterious person under the torso and pulled him/her indoors.

Her first aid and survival training suddenly taking over, she peeled away the mask and goggles and checked for vital signs.

"Well, you're still alive. Lucky to have made it this far. Let's see if I can keep you that way." Laura got to work.

It wasn't until after her visitor was out of danger and thawing in front of the heater, did Laura realize this might be one of the guys she was warned about. Well, he wasn't going to be able to do much to her tonight. He was extremely weak and suffering from exhaustion and hypothermia, but, amazingly, he didn't have frostbite.

"211, 412."

Laura jumped a mile. She forgot all about the radio check!

"211, 412."

"211."

"Why didn't you call? We've been worried sick."

"Sorry Dave," Laura sighed. "I'm really beat and fell asleep again. Besides, you can't send a team out in this storm anyway. Over."

"Have you seen anything at all?"

Laura was getting annoyed now. She certainly wasn't going to tell him what she found outside. They couldn't do anything about it anyway. "No. It's been quiet. Which would most likely account for me falling asleep. Over."

"Copy that. 412 clear."

"211 out."

Laura sighed and looked at her patient. "So, who are you and why are you dumb enough to be hiking in a blizzard with no pack, no skis, and no radio? Well, I might as well try to find out as much as I can while you're still asleep."

Laura dug through the snowsuit pockets. She pulled out an ID and badge. "Well, Agent Darien Fawkes, you are a long way from home. And out of your element I might add." She paused. "If you aren't a 'dangerous individual,' then why was I told you were? Or are you hunting these alleged individuals? But that still doesn't explain what you're doing without any survival gear."

She dug further and came upon a flat, metal case. Opening it, she discovered a hypodermic needle and vial of blue liquid. "Curioser and curioser. Is this your medication, a drug habit, or something to knock out alleged individuals?"

She pondered the sleeping Agent. "Well, I'll just have to find out when you wake up. As for me. I'm staying awake in case you do turn out to be dangerous."

Clutching her rifle, Laura sat in her chair watching her visitor.

Darien opened his eyes. He didn't feel too bad. Much warmer now. Darien closed his eyes and sighed. Warm=good.

Pause.

Darien's eyes flew open. Standing in front of him was the end of a rifle. The end that usually spelled death for those who remained there. Behind the rifle was a woman with a very serious expression.

Darien tried to come up with something witty to say. "Gahfurgle." There. Just as smooth as ever.

"Don't move." The woman's tone suggested dire consequences otherwise.

"Um. Sure. It's much more comfortable down here anyway." Darien grimaced. He wasn't at his best. He vainly tried to get his mind in gear. Nope. Nothing was working. He could feel the ache in the back of his head starting again. He yelped at a sudden onrush of pain.

Laura watched Agent Fawkes slowly wake up. He was only out for about an hour. She was still amazed he was alive. He should have frozen solid out there, she thought. Or at least be unconscious for a week.

When he started to stir, she stood with the gun pointed at him. Might as well be careful, she thought. He opened his eyes and she almost dropped the rifle. His eyes were blood-red. He didn't seem very aware of his surroundings, but made up for that in the sudden realization of Laura and her rifle.

"Gahfurgle." Obviously he wasn't coherent yet. Or Fish and Game wasn't as selective in hiring as they used to be.

"Don't move," Laura warned.

"Um. Sure. It's much more comfortable down here anyway."

Laura fought back a snicker and lowered the rifle a bit.

Suddenly he yelped and grabbed the back of his head. Laura pulled her rifle back up and stood ready.

"Please. The counteragent." Darien winced. The cold must have slowed the buildup of quicksilver a bit. Now it was coming back in full force.

Laura started. "The blue vial?"

"Yes! Please! Before it's too late!"

Laura hesitated. She had no way of knowing what he would do if she lowered her defenses.

"PLEASE! The quicksilver...it's built up too fast!" Darien screamed in agony and thrashed on the floor.

Laura ran to the table where she had left his belongings. She filled the needle and ran back to Darien.

"Hold still!" she commanded.

"Working...on that!" Darien strained to keep still.

Deftly, Laura plunged the needle into his arm, and pushed the plunger to the bottom.

Darien jerked suddenly and lay still.

When he opened his eyes, all trace of the red was gone.

Laura stood up and reached for her rife.

"I'm not going to hurt you. Not now." Darien winced. Wrong thing to say.

Laura grabbed the rifle. "What do you mean 'not now'?"

Darien sighed. "It's a long, painful story. Just think of it as anti-insanity medication.

"Where am I?"

"You're in the Beach Lake cabin. A ranger station."

Darien thought for a moment, his mental facilities still recovering. "And you must be a ranger, right?"

Laura smiled. "Ranger Laura Rowan. I work at the Old Faithful Visitor Center."

"Nice to meet you, Ranger Rowan--"

"Oh, Laura please. I'm not used to being called 'Ranger.'"

Darien smiled. She has a gun. Be nice and maybe you can use the radio. "Okay, Laura. I'm Agent Darien Fawkes. Darien is fine." He held out his hand and decided against it as a wave of dizziness passed over him.

"So, Darien, what are you doing out here? Death wish?" Laura lowered the gun. She doubted he would be able to try anything in his condition.

Darien sighed again. "I wish I knew. My partner and I were sent on a routine mission to pick up a lone terrorist. Our packs were sabotaged, and we were attacked by a very large group of unfriendly people. Hobbes was captured. I headed here to warn my agency of what was going on."

Laura pondered this. He seemed to be telling the truth. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, but she didn't think it was with Agent Fawkes.

"All right. You can use my radio. But after I do a radio check of my own. If I don't call in every hour, my paranoid coworker will think I've been brutally slaughtered by a cult of ranger-eating trolls." Laura walked over to the radio.

"I know what it's like to work with paranoia," Darien muttered.

"412, 211." Pause. "412, 211." Pause. "412, 211." Pause.

"Yeah, 412 here."

"Just making a radio check, Dave. Over."

"As soon as the storm clears, a team is going to be sent to your location. Over."

Laura was a bit confused. What was the point of that? "Is there any trouble?"

"One of those dangerous individuals is known to be heading towards your location. The other has been taken into custody. I want you to prepare yourself. The storm is already clearing up. We should be there in a few hours. Over."

Laura feigned relief. "Thanks, Dave. I'll be on the lookout. See you soon. 211 clear."

"Out."

Laura hung up the receiver with a worried expression. She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye: Agent Fawkes was trying to get up.

"Laura, I'm not--"

Laura waved her hand to silence him. "I know. Dave's not telling me the whole story. And he was using a non-public channel. He doesn't want anyone else to hear our conversation." Laura looked up at the ceiling in annoyance. "Damnit, Larson. What are you doing?"

"Larson?"

"Yeah. Dave Larson. He works as radio dispatch on the night shift. Why?"

Darien sat back down again. There was a concerned look on his face. "When I was spying on the camp--"

"Camp?"

"The one these arms dealers are in. The one that was supposed to hold a single terrorist. One of the men, the supposed terrorist, was talking to the General about a contact they had here named Larson. He was supposed to make sure they got in and out of the park without being noticed."

Laura sat down on the sofa. "Dave? But that would explain everything, wouldn't it? The radio channel, trying to get me to shoot you..."

"Shoot me?" Darien was a little concerned.

"I was supposed to shoot on sight."

"Why didn't you?"

"First of all, under all that snow gear, I couldn't even tell if you were the one I was supposed to shoot. Second, you looked like you were leaving this plane of reality without help from me. And third, I don't shoot unless there is no question of danger."

Darien grinned. "Well, Ranger Laura, I thank you for not shooting me. May I use the radio now?"

"Sure. Where are you calling?"

"Um. Back to the office. California."

"No problem." Laura handed Darien a cell phone. "You'll get better range with this. Just stand by the fireplace. It seems to only work there."

While Darien placed his call, Laura busied herself with gathering some survival gear together. If the 'team' that was coming were the people Dave had been conspiring with, Darien shouldn't stay here.

"Just get me the Official!" Darien was getting annoyed. He added the phone system to his list of his pet peeves about the Agency. Finally he got through. Only then did it occur to him that the Official was working rather late.

"So, what did you bring me?" The Official was being the snarky one now.

"We've got big trouble here. You know that routine assignment you sent us on? Well, we found Baker Adams and his army."

"Army? What are you talking about?"

"Baker Adams isn't a terrorist. Well, he is. Kind of. But what he's really doing is weapons sales. And guess what weapon he's selling now?"

"The 347-HG?"

"Give that man a cigar. Yes!" Darien almost jumped, but thought better of it when the room started to spin.

"So how's he doing it? His profile indicates he doesn't have the intelligence level to pull off something this big."

"Well, that's where the fun part comes in. He has a partner. Name of General Krang. Heard of him?"

The Official was silent for a while.

"I thought so. Look, we're going to need some help here. I almost froze to death and Hobbes is being treated to capture in enemy territory. If I have to--" Darien glanced at Laura, who was searching the closet. "--go into full agent mode, I'm not going to last much longer afterwards. Not like it does much good. I was easily spotted in the snow. We need some kind of backup and fast. I have a feeling this is all going to go down very soon."

The Official sighed. "We'll send a team immediately. If we can bust Krang, we can wipe out over half of the arms market."

Darien was not impressed. "And it wouldn't hurt to get more gold stars either, I'm sure."

"Where are they located?"

"I don't know--" Darien paused. "Laura? Where are we?"

"South of Beach Lake on the Central Plateau. Roughly 8 miles due south of the first 'A' in 'National' on the park maps." Laura wished she memorized coordinates.

Darien repeated the information. "We were a little west of the cabin on our way to the camp. Hobbes said he saw it when we passed it. The camp is north of the lake, if I remember the scenery correctly."

"That's fine. We can find it from there."

"Look. I have to get going. They know I'm here. They've already tried to kill me twice, I'd like to be somewhere else when they try for a third."

"Okay. Good luck. And don't do anything stupid. The last thing we want is for them to get a hold of you."

"Yeah, sure. Can't endanger the Receptacle." On that note, Darien hung up the phone.

Laura walked over. "I packed you some survival gear. This should keep you alive so you can find your partner. Good luck."

"Aren't you coming?"

"I'd better stay here. I'll try to stall Dave when he arrives. Don't move too fast. You might be standing now, but you could really use a few days' rest before you go traipsing off into the snow."

Darien looked uncertain. "If you say so." He put his snowsuit and goggles back on, grabbed his ID and pack, and opened the front door just in time to see several sets of headlights, most likely the General's trucks, come down the hill.

On another realm of thinking...

Hobbes had spent the better part of 20 minutes trying to get out of the ropes. "The least they could have done was untie me," he growled. Normally he would have been out in under five, but trying to untie yourself while wearing thick gloves wasn't exactly easy.

Soon, but not soon enough for Bobby Hobbes, he was free of the ropes and took the blindfold off. It was still dark, but there was traces of a sunrise in the east.

"Well, at least they left me where they said they would. I hope." Hobbes wondered why any arms dealer with terroristic tendencies would keep his word. "I do believe General Krang does not think that I, Bobby Hobbes, can make it out here. Well, my friend, you are about to see just what Bobby Hobbes can do!"

With that note, Hobbes started to gather his gear up. He found a flashlight and shined it into the cave. "Wonder how far it goes. According to the map, I'm only a mile or two from the cabin. I wonder..."

Hobbes started to walk deeper into the cave. His time was short, but he also knew that the terrorists were still close by and he didn't want to get captured again. There was enough time to explore for a bit. Besides, he had a hunch.

As he walked deeper into the cave, he noticed some light up ahead. When he walked towards it he saw a battery-powered lamp hanging from a hook. It was the kind that could stay lit for years without needing to be replaced. He also noticed that the walls were smoother than the entrance of the cave and there were beams supporting the tunnel.

"Oh those sneaks. So this is why the National Park Service are such tightwads about their budget money. They have escape routes." Hobbes's mind was wheeling with the possibilities of this, but knew where the tunnel ultimately led. He moved deeper into the tunnel. Soon, all he could see behind him was the walls of the tunnel.

Meanwhile, panicking under fire...

Darien slammed the door shut. He looked about wildly. There was really no place to hide and he didn't want to chance QSM by quicksilvering for too long.

"Is there a place to hide?"

Laura remembered the trapdoor and ran towards it. She pushed back the bed, moved the rug aside, and unlatched the door. "In here! The tunnel runs for about a mile and a half. It exits at the lake. They won't know it's here."

Darien climbed in. "Thank you. For all your help."

"Wait." Laura grabbed a second, smaller pack. The cabin had five extras for emergencies. "Just on case you find your friend. Or get lost."

Darien took it and ducked into the tunnel. Laura shut the trapdoor.

*Knock knock!*

Laura jumped. She quickly covered the door with the rug and ran to answer the door. Hopefully they won't notice it, she thought.

She opened to the door and was treated to the business end of an assault rifle.

"Ack! Hey! Watch where you point that thing! I'm unarmed!" Laura was frozen in place. So this is how Darien felt when he woke up.

"Put your gun down, soldier!" a harsh command was issued. "I'm so sorry my dear. These boys can be a tad trigger happy."

An elderly man who looked like he could be Laura's grandfather, save for the squadron of soldiers behind him, walked up to her.

"May we come in?"

Laura looked hesitantly at the small army behind him. "I don't think I have enough chairs..."

"I'll just bring me and a few boys."

"Um. Okay." Laura opened the door wider.

The man walked in and surveyed the cabin. "Cozy."

"Um. Thanks." Laura was annoyed. Where are all her witty comments? Probably where I left my typical day in the park, she thought.

Dave Larson and five soldiers walked in.

"Dave! What are you doing here?" Laura feigned surprise while inwardly wanting to push him into the geyser.

"These gentlemen were kind enough to bring me along. They are the ones that are looking for the two dangerous men I warned you about."

"Oh, well...um...he's not here. In fact I haven't seen anyone until you guys showed up." Laura was getting a bit alarmed. Something was wrong. She resisted glancing towards the bedroom.

The leader of the group walked up to her. "You say you haven't seen him? Pray tell, what is this?" He held up the empty vial and needle.

Inwardly, Laura groaned. "It's my medication. Have to take it once a week."

"Oh really? And what type of, ah, disorder do you have?"

Laura thought wildly. Now would be a good time to remember college biology. She settled for what she saw Darien go through. "Neurological disorder. Seizures. That kind of stuff."

"I see." He grabbed for her arm.

Laura jumped back. "What are you doing!?"

"Just checking, my dear. If you had really taken this, you would have the appropriate marks. I am only checking on the truth of your statement." He raised an eyebrow.

Laura wanted to scream. She snapped at the man, "I don't stick it in my arm. Where I inject myself is none of your business!"

Dave looked interested. Laura wanted to hit him.

"Well, then." The man waved the soldiers out the door. "Tell the others they can go. Our prey is not here. You boys wait in my truck. I'm going to stay a while and visit with this young lady." After they left, he said, "I am truly sorry it had to come to this. I do not know if you are lying or not, but I am too polite to ask you to prove it. However, I cannot have you repeating my presence to anyone else." He pulled out his gun.

Laura's eyes widened. She hoped he was just going to shoot the radio, but the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach said otherwise.

Dave jumped between Krang and Laura. "Krang! This wasn't part of the deal! You said you were just going to kill the agents!"

"Dave!" Laura exclaimed. "You mean, they aren't criminals!? Why would you lie!?" Laura thought, and the award goes to...

Krang sighed. "Do you think I'm going to leave anyone alive who saw me or my compatriots? It has to be done, Mr. Larson. Now please move."

Dave stood his ground. "No! Laura is my friend. She won't tell, I promise. Just don't kill her."

Krang sighed again and promptly shot Dave. Dave fell to the floor, instantly dead. Krang knew how to kill people.

Laura stifled a scream. She calmed herself as best she could. "You know, you're going to have trouble leaving. He was your way in and out wasn't he? Now what are you going to do?"

Krang gave Laura a poisonous look. "That is not your concern. I could use you as a way out, but I believe you are more trouble than you appear to be. You will have to die, as originally planned." He raised his gun.

Back to our heroic spelunker...

Hobbes heard something like a gun going off. It could have been a rock falling, but his mind was trained to think gunfire. He walked faster. Up ahead, the tunnel branched. He took a quick guess and ran to the right. A few seconds later he caught a glimpse of the tail end of a quicksilvering Darien disappearing into the ceiling. Hobbes ran to the spot where he saw Darien and peeked through the opening in time to see...

Laura took a deep breath. Suddenly, the gun flew out of Krang's hand. Then Krang was knocked across the room by an invisible force. Laura hesitated for a second and ran towards the gun. She held it towards Krang, who looked as if he was getting the crap beaten out of him. Laura backed towards the front door and locked it. She then enjoyed the show in front of her.

Hobbes noticed the young woman (and quite the looker, too) had the gun now. This could be a good thing or it could be a bad thing. Fawkes was busy with the general, so Hobbes snuck out of the tunnel and crept towards the woman. She spun around.

To read the conclusion of this exciting story, please click continue.