In the sweltering darkness, Ginta turned a shade paler as he used more chakra than he could afford to spare. Kakashi cursed and veered right, abandoning the wreck of the door he'd been aiming for. Rippling up the nearest wall, he caught a glimpse of flickering seals above an oily, iridescent flood, and gathering flame...

Bomb factory. Bloody ninja-run bomb factory.

It wasn't just the urgency in Ginta's scream that made Kakashi change gears, throwing on a turn of speed that brushed the edge of Minato's flicker-jutsu. They made it halfway back, weaving through rubble-crushed corpses and the bones of dying machinery, before a dull whumph turned the air itself into a weapon. Crushing force picked Kakashi up and slammed him sideways into a rusted steel chute; Ginta screamed as his legs caught between the copy-nin's body and unyielding metal. Head ringing, Kakashi staggered back to his feet, and did his best to sooth with a smoke-torn voice and hands that should have been forming seals. The clone carrying Tsuyako--

Was gone. Destroyed by the blast.

Kakashi swore again and lunged towards the crumpled, silent body of Ginta's teammate. A deep rumbling to his left announced something imminent and floor-cracking; he clawed up an answering wave of chakra-driven earth, tearing the jutsu right through concrete, and brought a few precious seconds to haul Tsuyako onto his back, trusting Ginta to stand on his own feet for a white-knuckled moment. He couldn't sense another clone; his katana was long gone.

And the damn ceiling was coming down.

"Son of a bitch," he snapped, sweeping Ginta up again and wrenching all three of them around a shatter of falling bricks.

Before Ginta could answer, a gout of flame blazed up from a previously untouched mixer, casting a brief flash of stark light. Kakashi sneezed violently, used Ginta's shoulder mid-run to shove his hitai-ate back and free the sharingan eye (he needed to see), and caught a perfect chakra-blue look at Ginta's clothes. From head to foot he was drenched in long-dried chemicals; a perfect, flammable target. And the sprinklers were shutting down.

If he'd had the time, Kakashi would have paused to beat his head against a wall. Instead, he drew on reserves of waning chakra, threw himself and both fallen agents towards the pipes Ginta had pointed out, and sliced air like a blade through the heavy black metal. Water, clean and freezing, erupted out, dousing them all. Kakashi drove straight through it, keeping his footing with chakra and luck, and pushed onwards to the door he thought he could see on the other side, shouldering desperately fleeing workers aside.

As a plan, it worked fantastically. Right up until he ran straight into another ninja.