"Gentlemen," Skipper announced. There was a click as he switched off the Skipper's log.

"Skipper, I though all missions have to be…"Kowalski began to question as the team members and a few 'civilian specialists' looked at each other uncomfortably.

"I'm getting to that Kowalski. This mission is off the record."

"What?" Private gasped.

"You heard me. Unofficial, I will deny we ever said this," Skipper paused, looking every man in the eye, "Black ops."

"I don't much like the sound of that."

"If any of you would like to opt out of this mission," Skipper turned away from the group dramatically, "Leave now. Nobody will think any less of you. In fact, I'd prefer it if all of you left now, even though I'd have no one left to actually complete the mission." Private shifted uncomfortably, "You have ten seconds. When I turn around, I will assume that anyone I see is on board, and you will not be able to back out. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5…"

"Skippah…"

"In or out, I don't care why." Skipper interrupted, "6. 7…" Skipper heard the sound of the patter of Private's footsteps, "8. 9. 10." He turned around, "Alright, let's get started."

"Next to you, and looking through the fishbowl, are the three civilian specialists I have deemed necessary to call in," Skipper announced, "Bada for muscle, Phil for his ability to read, and Lulu who has come down from Hoboken to participate as our glamor factor. Kowalski is in charge."

"Yes!" Kowalski shouted, before shrinking back under the glances of the rest of the team, "I mean, it is an honour to be selected for the mission."

"Good," Skipper turned over a page on the notepad, on which was drawn a 'pretty picture', "It is vital to the security of the zoo that this target be neutralised with as little fuss as possible."

"Skipper, I don't understand why? I mean, if you only need him to appear dead you could use that toxin Barry perfected…"

"Need to know information, Kowalski. All you need to know, is that he must be liquefied within the next twenty four hours or we face total starvation. Now," Skipper turned over another page, "After careful study, I have developed complicated plans for the neutralisation of the target. Do not deviate no matter what the circumstances…"

"I'm not sure I feel right about this," Lulu thought aloud.

"Now's not the time to get cold feet, Lulu." Kowalski reminded as they waited for the others to arrive.

"But actually killing someone. Doesn't it seem a bit harsh? Are you sure it's necessary?"

"If Rico had made the call, yes I would question it, but I trust my commanding officer's judgment. He wouldn't call something like this unless we had no other options." There was a pause in the conversation as Lulu evaluated this.

"Have you ever done anything like this before?"

"No. I have absolutely no data to evaluate with. I just have to trust that Skipper knows what he's doing."

"Pinky knows we're after him, so he's gonna be holed up in there pretty tight. However, that's nothing Lulu can't get passed…"

"Hello?" Lulu shouted over the wall of the habitat, "Is anyone there?" Pinky looked over the top of the brick wall surrounding the habitat cautiously, not recognising the voice.

"Who are you?" the bird demanded suspiciously.

"My name's Lulu."

"Why haven't I seen you before?"

"Oh, I'm actually from Hoboken. You see, I was coming here to visit an old friend, but when I got here, it turned out he'd already left to meet me back in Hoboken. Well, it was awfully sweet, but now I'm kind of stuck out here till the next transfer comes in the morning. I saw everyone was asleep and I didn't want to disturb them, but I saw you had all your lights on so I figured I could ask you if there was some other way to get back."

"There's the no.8 bus."

"But then I heard they call that the graveyard eight, and I don't much like the sound of that. Are there any other…"

"…While Lulu's got him distracted, Kowalski will pick the locks on the fence, once Phil gives him the go ahead from the office where he'll have looped the security footage."

"Fake Morse code? I guess that's the signal." Kowalski theorised, starting work on the high tech electronic locks Pinky had somehow stolen and installed. Well, if he could take the fish right out from under their noses, and by Copernicus he still hadn't forgotten that, it wasn't too farfetched for him to gather the technical expertise and equipment.

"Yo, you gonna take much longer with that?" Bing questioned, "Cause I think Lulu's runnin' out a conversation."

"A little patience and less volume would be appreciated." Kowalski hissed.

"Wha' do ya mean…?" Bing growled louder than was comfortable.

"Shhh!" Rico interrupted, reminding the gorilla to crouch a little lower below the wall.

"Alright, we're in."

"… now that Kowalski's in, it's up to Rico and his blow dart. Remember, Pinky can fly, so if he hears the slightest peep out of you before you've fired the dart, he's going to get out of range pretty fast, so, to answer your earlier question, Bing, this is strictly a stealth mission."

Kowalski opened the gate as little as was possible for Rico to wriggle through, and shut it immediately after the other penguin had entered the habitat. Rico crouched in the shadows cast by the empty fish crates Pinky had set along the walls to prevent them from simply jumping into his habitat, until he was within range of the bird, who was either sorely love struck, or beginning to get irritated by the simian femme fatale. He then regurgitated his blowpipe as silently as possible, and took the shot. The bird swayed on his feet a few seconds, raising a wing to rub the area where the blow dart had embedded itself, before collapsing to the ground, dead.

"A' clear." Rico called softly. At this cue, Bing lumbered into the habitat, though trying desperately to keep said lumbering quiet where he lifted Pinky's body over to the wall and dropped it.

"The blow dart Rico will use is made of a top secret compound, which starts to disintegrate a few minutes after contact with a liquid, in this case, blood. That way, there will be absolutely no trace of our involvement, considering the fact we happen to be the only people in the zoo with access to blowpipes."

"But Skipper, they won't believe he just keeled over and died," Kowalski objected, "and it's not exactly secret the fact we still consider him a security risk after the fish cakes incident."

"Don't mention those disgusting excuses for nutrients!" Skipper complained, "No, in the morning the investigator will discover that Pinky was taking in the morning air, when he slipped on the wall, and fell to his death."

"Down!" Kowalski hissed almost the moment Bing released the body. Immediately Bing ducked down below the wall as Marlene, probably out for a midnight stroll passed by. When she was gone, Bing looked down over the drop at the late Mr Pinky.

"Hm. Guess dat mook heard all your complainin' about noise," Bing commented, "He even fell silent…"

"Shhh!"

"A'right, A'right." Bing muttered, following the other animals out of the room.

"I was just sleepin' in my tree when this thing comes crashing down," Fred stated.

"Yeah, now can you tell us what you saw," Skipper encouraged in his best attempt at a film noir detective.

"Well like I said, this thing comes crashin' down to the ground, right in front of my tree. Oh yeah, and there was a sleepin' guy tied to it. That's strange, cause you know, I was sleeping at the same time. What was that thing?"

"Two of our planes, and Pinky's dead body."

"Ouch."

"Well," Skipper turned away from Fred, rolling his eyes, "I don't think we'll get much more from him. What'cha got for me, Kowalski?" Skipper asked, turning his attention to the scientist, who was dusting for prints.

"Well, Skipper…" Kowalski began.

"Sorry Kowalski, but there can only be one film noir Humphrey Bogart style detective on this case." Skipper interrupted, catching the fedora and raincoat Rico had regurgitated and tossed him.

"Is that a film noir he's doing then?" Mason asked. Phil signed something in reply, "No Phil, he's never seen a classic movie in his life, he just thinks certain ladies in the group will like it."

"Right, we have some clear sets of prints," without his detective act, the scientist looked extremely confused, "two on the control stick, and if you'd let me take a look at the body…"

"Not gonna happen."

"Right, clear claw marks on the upholstery too. Ostrich, and according to the prints and feathers, Shelly, but Skipper we'll need to determine the cause of…"

"The body won't be touched until we can get a doctor in to perform an autopsy." Private explained.

"I can do an autopsy." Kowalski replied. Skipper shot him a glare before pulling him off to the side.

"Listen Kowalski, don't think you're completely out of the woods. There's somebody seriously trying to mess things up. Now, if you get caught…"

"I'm going to have to clear myself because you can't step in and if I performed the autopsy then that evidence wouldn't be open to me because…"

"And let me remind you of this: my men will never be accused of tampering with evidence. Murder's fine, but that's outright obstruction of justice."

"Ok…" Skipper turned back to the rest of the group, leaving Kowalski to ponder his leader's thought processes.

"I've just gone over Kowalski's qualifications, and he's no doctor." Skipper stated.

"I knew I should have finished med school." Kowalski concurred, only to be glared at by Skipper. He never was much of an actor.[ss3]

"The only doctor I know is my cousin in Nova Scotia…"

"What a nice place to set up a practice," Private thought aloud wistfully, only to be interrupted by a slap.

"It might take him a while to get down here…"

"Or, I know a doctor who I'm pretty sure is within the tri state area," Marlene interrupted.

"Do tell," Private encouraged.

"Dr Blowhole."