[Thank you, Transmute Jun and Clouddancer for beta reading.]
Recipe for Disaster
Chapter 1
Joe hadn't thought anything could surprise him anymore.
Whenever he and the rest of the Science Ninjas were summoned to Dr. Nambu's briefing room at the Crescent Coral Base, the reason varied in details but the underlying message was always the same: Galactor had, or was about to, steal/destroy/kill something or someone and the mission was inevitably some variant of retrieve/prevent/protect (and, on a good day, one that let him wreak havoc with missiles, shuriken or his own fists).
Never in a million years did he think that Dr. Nambu would order Ken and him attend a cooking class.
"It's not a typical cooking class," Dr. Nambu attempted to explain over his (and Ken's) protests, "It's a one-day class conducted by the celebrity chef Julian Wilde."
"Ooh," said Jun, as she sat upright now on the couch, "He's the one from that reality show, 'So You Think You Can Cook?' isn't he? He's really famous."
"Yeah," snickered Jinpei, adding in a whisper to Ryu, "And she watches it sometimes because she thinks she can cook."
He didn't whisper quietly enough.
"I can cook," declared Jun, looking around at everyone else for corroboration.
An awkward pause ensued as Joe, Ken and Ryu suddenly found the window, floor and ceiling, respectively, to be fascinating. Dr. Nambu stared down at some papers on his desk, shuffling them wordlessly.
"Well I cook more than Ken or Joe at least!" she went on, "And, I run the Snack J. It makes sense that I should be-"
"There are reasons for my decision," cut in Dr. Nambu, "Allow me to explain."
With a frown in Jinpei's direction that promised much dishwashing labor for him, Jun sat back again and prepared to listen.
"It's a fundraiser for charity, being held in Amegapolis," said Dr. Nambu, "All the participants in the class have paid $10,000 to attend. At its conclusion, Chef Wilde will select the best student, who will get to choose the charity that Chef Wilde will then donate all the entry fees to, and also be featured on an episode of his TV show."
"Again, Doctor," said Ken, shaking his head, "I still don't understand why you want Joe and me to do this. Is it some sort of PR thing for the Science Ninja Team?"
"Oh no," Dr. Nambu replied, "Most of the entrants, naturally, will be very wealthy or prominent people but you two won't be attending as Gatchaman and the Condor –you'll be completely undercover."
Joe narrowed his eyes. He was starting to see where this was leading.
"Let me guess, Doctor," he said, "You have some reason to think that Galactor is going to make trouble at this cooking class?"
"That's exactly it, Joe," said Dr. Nambu, looking alternately at him and Ken, "I was contacted two days ago by Princess Flake –you all remember her, of course?"
Of course they did, thought Joe, as they all nodded; they'd saved her from Katse and a pack of Devil Stars just a couple months or so ago in the Monalince Kingdom. And, they'd done it while on roller skates –that wasn't something you could forget, although he had since tried very hard to do so.
"She had just learned that her younger sister, Princess Jessica, is one of the entrants –apparently she wasn't going to tell Princess Flake her plans for fear that she would be forbidden to attend. Recent events, as you can well imagine, have made Princess Flake very concerned about her and her sister's safety."
"So that's it," said Ken, "She wants Science Ninjas to be bodyguards for her sister." He didn't look all that impressed but Joe didn't blame him –they routinely destroyed entire mechas and secret bases; guard duty was more than a little beneath them.
"There's more to it than that," replied Dr. Nambu, as if sensing their thoughts, "The same day Princess Flake discovered her sister's plans to go to Amegapolis, ISO Intelligence intercepted part of a radio transmission on a frequency that Galactor has used before. We can't identify its sender or intended recipient, unfortunately, but the message was 'The Princess dies in Amegapolis this Saturday.'"
"When is this whole cooking class event supposed to take place?" asked Joe.
"This Saturday," said Dr. Nambu.
Okay, that was something. Joe and Ken exchanged glances.
"Naturally, I wouldn't normally send you out for a mission like this, one that could be handled by regular security personnel, but Princess Flake did specifically ask that I send Gatchaman. Considering the very generous patronage we've received in the past from Princess Flake and the likely involvement of Galactor in a threat to her sister…"
"Yeah," said Ken, "Of course we'll do it, but do we have to be entrants in the class?"
Clearly he was envisioning himself trying to cook to the standards of a celebrity chef and not liking what he saw. Neither did Joe. He would look pathetic for sure, and there wasn't much that he hated more than that.
"Right," said Joe, "Can't we just guard her from the sidelines?"
"No," sighed Dr. Nambu, "This is a private event and I need you two to blend in at this class and not draw any attention –in fact, I want you to pretend you don't even know each other. You see, it's my hope that there will be an attack on Princess Jessica but that you two will prevent it from succeeding and capture the assassin. I want to know if it is in fact Galactor again threatening the Monalince royal family or if it's some other individual or group this time."
"So how exactly are you getting us discreetly into this class at the last minute?" asked Ken, "Wouldn't all the available spots be taken up? I mean, it's just two days from now."
"I have managed to get hold of a list of all the entrants' names but there isn't time now to do more than a cursory investigation into their backgrounds for any criminal or suspicious history."
Dr. Nambu shifted slightly in his chair before continuing.
"I contacted as many of them as I could, pretending to be someone affiliated with the event doing a last-minute confirmation of attendance, and I learned in this way that two entrants have, just now, cancelled. This is very good luck for us as I, naturally, will refrain from passing on this information to anyone genuinely affiliated with the event. Princess Flake asked for Gatchaman, but if I can send two of you, I will. Ken and Joe will show up at the class on Saturday and pretend to be these two people, and you two will make sure that you are close to Princess Jessica the entire time. Princess Jessica herself will be none the wiser, as her sister has refrained from telling her that she's requested the aid of the Science Ninja Team."
"Why's that?" asked Ryu, "Wouldn't she want her kid sister to feel safer?"
"Hmm, while I feel I could possibly trust Princess Flake, a wise and serious ruler, with knowledge of what Gatchaman and the Condor look like out of their birdstyles, this trust does not extend to her sister. It's best if she has no idea that you will be at the event."
"Makes sense," said Joe.
"Yes, and from what Princess Flake tells me, Princess Jessica is of a rather strong-willed… even rebellious temperament. She thinks, at age seventeen, that she is 'perfectly capable of taking care of herself,' and continually makes difficulties about having bodyguards around her or tries to 'ditch' them to be alone with boys. Princess Flake is quite in despair about it. As their parents are dead, she feels very responsible for her younger sister's upbringing and well-being."
"She sounds like a brat," said Jun.
"I don't know," said Joe, smirking, "I think I might like her already."
"Doctor," said Ken, "Who are the people that Joe and I will be pretending to be?"
"Ah yes," said Dr. Nambu, shuffling papers on his desk again, "You, Ken, are Wilbert Peters-"
Joe snorted.
"Wilbert?" laughed Jinpei, "That is so dorky!"
Ken's jaw tightened slightly but he merely continued to look at Dr. Nambu.
"Yes," continued Dr. Nambu, "You are a 24 year old computer genius and the CEO of a small but very successful and profitable software company. Fortunately, you are eccentric and are rarely seen in public or photographed, so you should be able to pass for him without much trouble. You'll need to wear this badge to get into the event." He handed Ken a large, plastic name tag featuring "Wilbert Peters," "Julian Wilde's First Annual Charity Cook-off" and a bar code.
"What about me?" asked Joe.
Dr. Nambu shifted in his chair again.
"I want to state, one more time, the debt of gratitude we owe to Princess Flake and the deep necessity of eliminating any Galactor plots against the Monalince Kingdom, one of the ISO's best allies-"
"Who am I?" demanded Joe.
"You, um… are an author. Your books sell quite well, but fortunately you use a pen name, so not as many people will recognize your… 'real name.' If anyone does, you will explain that you value your privacy very highly and therefore the photograph of you on your books' jackets is not really you at all and-"
Joe's eyes widened in alarm. Surely this didn't mean…
"What the hell is my name?" His voice hit a slightly higher note than he'd intended.
"You are Fern Wembley."
"Fern?!!" He was too aghast to say more but he moved away from the wall where he'd been leaning, towards Dr. Nambu.
"You're an author," continued Dr. Nambu stolidly, "You publish under the name Violet du Maurier-"
"Violet?!!" Ken stood up hastily and blocked Joe's way.
"Hey, I think Sis has a couple books by her!" said Jinpei, "They're goopy romance novels!"
Jun glared at him. "At least I read more than just comics!"
"How the hell am I supposed to pass myself off as a 'Fern'?" yelled Joe, finally managing to speak in sentences again, glowering at Ken.
"Stop laughing!" he said a second later, sweeping angry eyes across his other teammates.
"Tell people your parents were crazy, plant-loving hippies?" suggested Ryu.
"Claim there was a typo on your entry application and you're really 'Vern'?" suggested Ken.
"Say it's short for 'Fernando' -like that ABBA song?" suggested Jun.
"You know what?" said Joe, throwing his arms in the air angrily before stalking back to his place by the wall, "I'm not doing this, Doctor –pick someone else!"
"Don't look at me," laughed Ryu as Ken sat back down, "I like to eat, but no way am I doing something like this!"
"And Jinpei's too young," added Jun, "Doctor, I'll go in Joe's place. Clearly I'm the best person for-"
"Gatchaman will go alone, then," said Dr. Nambu resignedly, pointedly not looking at Jun, "As Joe is clearly unable to inconvenience himself even slightly to help one of the Team's most loyal supporters. It won't be easy, Ken, as you alone will have to find a way to stay close to the Princess throughout an entire event that will last several hours."
"Yeah, no bathroom breaks for you!" laughed Jinpei.
"But," said Dr. Nambu, looking speculatively at Ken, "From what Princess Flake tells me about her sister, she will welcome and enjoy… friendly attention from a young man such as yourself."
Still slouched sullenly against the wall, Joe couldn't help but be amused by the expression that crossed Ken's face.
And the look on Jun's face too.
"You're saying I'm supposed to… flirt with her?" asked Ken.
"This photo will enable you to identify her amongst all the other entrants," continued Dr. Nambu smoothly.
He turned on a view screen, and there was an image of Princess Jessica.
Joe had been envisioning a younger version of the elegant but plain and very formal Princess Flake, but Princess Jessica…
"Babe," "hottie," "fox"… She was the embodiment of all such terms.
This changed everything.
Really, it was his duty to aid the Team's patron, Princess Flake. And Ken was clueless around girls –clearly Fern was needed here to handle the "diplomatic relations" side of this important mission.
"I've changed my mind, Doctor," Joe said, "I'll go."
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"Don't think that I don't know why you changed your mind," said Ken, as Joe waited for the light to change at an intersection in downtown Amegapolis.
"What? Do you think you've got a lock on the whole 'sacrifice in the name of duty' thing? I hate cooking, but we have an obligation to Princess Flake to-"
"You stay away from Princess Jessica," said Ken, frowning, "Just watch her from a distance."
"You heard the Doctor," said Joe, unable to keep the smirk off his lips now, "Our orders are to stay close to her. Really close. Surely you of all people aren't going to tell me to be disobedient? I only-"
"Damn it, Joe, you know what I mean! Leave her alone!" said Ken with sudden vehemence.
Joe's smirk disappeared. The light had gone green, but as he accelerated the car, he turned his head briefly to glare at Ken.
"I'm not sure I do," he said, his tone icy, "You'd better explain."
"Hell, Joe," said Ken, shoving his hair off his forehead and exhaling loudly, "You're my best friend… But when it comes to women, you're the biggest disaster magnet on the planet!"
"That's a load of crap!"
Another damned red light –he hated driving in cities- but at least now he could really glare at Ken.
"That maid, the summer we were sixteen-"
"Hey, the Doctor fired her 'cause he found her snooping in his desk, not in my-"
"Director Anderson's granddaughter."
"All I did was-"
"You got her expelled from her school!"
"She hated that place anyway and-"
"That maintenance tech, at the Crescent Base. Last I saw her, she was screaming that you'd broken her heart and was trying to shoot you!"
"She missed me every time! She didn't really mean-"
"Now she's permanently assigned to a weather station in Antarctica!
"Could be worse-"
"Yeah, at least she's not dead!" After a pause, Ken spoke again, staring rigidly ahead.
"Lucy."
Joe clenched his jaw, his grip on the steering wheel tightening.
"Maya," said Ken next.
The light was green. Joe floored the gas, tearing across the intersection.
"So what the hell is your point, Ken?" growled Joe, seething.
"I already told you! You attract women who are trouble. Princess Jessica may well be a brat who just wants to annoy her big sister, but her sister is Princess Flake and a critical supporter of the ISO and us! I am not going to stand by and watch you create a diplomatic fiasco just so you can…" Ken made a vague hand gesture.
Joe snapped "At least I get some-" He copied the gesture. "If I die tomorrow, at least I'll know I really lived. You and Jun-"
"We are not talking about me and Jun," cut in Ken, staring rigidly ahead again.
A cold silence followed.
At the next red light, Joe pulled his car close to the sidewalk.
"Get out," he told Ken.
"Damn it, Joe, I'm giving you good advice and you know it. You don't have to get pissy!"
"We're only five blocks away now. We're not supposed to know each other, remember? You can walk the rest of the way."
"Oh… right." Ken got out and soon Joe lost sight of him amid the crowd of moving pedestrians. On Dr. Nambu's instructions, they were both wearing long-sleeved collared shirts that concealed their numbered tees and their bracelets.
"It won't do for you two to look too much alike," he'd said, "And we have reason to think Galactor recognizes your bracelets."
The light was green and Joe was able to cover the remaining distance to his destination without hitting any more red lights.
Sure, he'd had some… bad luck with women, but a guy's luck can change at any time, he told himself, still scowling. He was not a magnet for disaster.
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Joe pulled into the valet circle. The car in front of him was a massive and luxurious sedan, with darkened windows and Joe knew bomb-proof armor and bullet-proof glass when he saw it. The instant it stopped, a door from the backseat opened and out popped Princess Jessica, slamming the door behind her. She glared towards the driver's window and made a shooing gesture that clearly indicated "Get lost!"
The young valet standing there, however, was favored with a dazzling smile as she went past him towards the building's entrance and left him gaping in her wake.
Joe could hardly blame him. Her hair, a wave of honey-brown curls cascaded down her back. Her close-fitting jeans and pink halter top accentuated her figure's perfect curves as she walked slowly, swaying gracefully in high heeled sandals.
She drew the eyes of everyone in the vicinity; if they didn't know who she was, they surely must have thought she was the latest teen movie starlet or pop singer. She definitely had that aura.
Joe got out of his car now, handing the key to another valet –something he normally wouldn't do, but today he was just driving a nondescript rental car. He glanced up, quickly surveying all the rooflines and windows of the surrounding buildings for signs of Galactor assassins with sharp-shooting rifles, but everything looked okay. Still, he'd feel better once she got inside the building.
As soon as she was, the car she'd arrived in finally pulled away. Joe walked quickly to enter the building and catch up to her. She might think she'd left her bodyguards behind in the car for this event, but she was wrong. Hers was definitely a body that merited more guarding!
He watched her produce a badge from her purse for an event official to examine and scan
"Welcome to Chef Wilde's Charity Cook-off, Miss Jessica Nassau."
Not using her royal title here, Joe noted –a good thing.
As Jessica walked away, the official next studied Joe's badge, then glanced at him curiously, smirking.
Joe groaned inwardly
But, apparently his identity checked out to this official's satisfaction.
"Welcome to Chef Wilde's Charity Cook-off, Mr. Fern Wembley."
"My parents were crazy hippies," muttered Joe, now reluctantly fastening the badge to his shirt pocket.
"Chef Wilde's kitchen is just through the doors over there, Sir."
He walked past the official quickly, once again trying to catch up to Jessica.
Something worthwhile had better come of all this, he thought.
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The kitchen was huge, brightly lit and filled with rows of cooking stations, but dominated by one larger cooking station at the front of the room, elevated a foot or so higher than the rest. Several cameras were trained on it, and their footage was appearing on large screens on all the room's walls –footage of the celebrity chef. Julian Wilde, dressed in immaculate white with a chef's hat perched on his head at rakish angle was standing there, somehow managing to look both arrogant and ingratiating as numerous entrants all clustered around him excitedly and sought to greet him.
"Trying to suck up to him, more like," thought Joe, disliking the man on sight and wondering once again just how the hell he'd gotten himself into a situation where he'd have to try to cook for such a pompous twit.
Then he saw Jessica approaching the Chef, and remembered how.
She squealed "Chef Juuulian, I'm your biggest fan!" and kissed him on the cheek.
For an instant, his face looked less pompous and more like that young valet outside –and Joe could tell because a close up view of his face was showing on all the screens on the walls.
Yeah, she was going to win for sure.
"I've seen every episode of your show, and I've studied all your moves," she cooed, with a giggle.
Chef Julian almost preened as Jessica continued to butter him up but managed merely to laugh deprecatingly as she oohed and aahed over whatever cooking junk and ingredients he had sitting out, asking questions. Ugh, thought Joe, looking around the room. There had to be nearly four dozen entrants in the place now and the ones that weren't trying to fawn over Chef Julian or gazing at Jessica were milling around selecting their own cooking stations.
Many of the entrants were well dressed, middle-aged-or-older types who at least looked harmless. Joe also noticed that the entrants' cooking stations were all divided into little islands that each contained two stations.
"Young man, I'm certain I know your name from somewhere…," said a grandmotherly type, peering at Joe's badge , "Do you, by any chance, write?"
Crap!
"Uh, no, not me!" said Joe, moving away from her as fast as he could without making his aversion too obvious. Everyone was pairing up now at cooking stations; he knew who he wanted to "pair up" with, and it sure wasn't this woman.
Finally! Jessica, with another giggle and a wave, had walked away from Chef Julian's station. It was time for him to make his move.
But of course, he always played it cool. As Jessica moved in his general direction, he gave her a look and a hint of a smile but no more as he stood confidently, surveying the room.
And it worked. She was coming his way and, damn, she was even better close up, with softly rounded cheeks and chin, a button nose with a faint dash of freckles, pink rosebud lips and large, long-lashed eyes, dancing with mischief.
"Hi," she said, smiling as she drew near and clearly also liking what she saw. So near, in fact, that she whispered in his ear, "Am I glad to see you."
So diverting was her body's proximity, her floral perfume and the feel of her breath on his neck, he was momentarily bemused. Had Dr. Nambu, after all, let her in on the plan?
"We're the only ones here who aren't soccer moms or geezers," she continued with a soft giggle.
Ah, so she didn't know who he was.
"Then clearly we belong together, Jessica," he replied, with just a touch of innuendo.
She took a step back, silent but smiling knowingly as her eyes moved intently over his face.
"Perhaps we do…"
She glanced at his badge.
"Fern?" She giggled again, more sharply.
Damn it!
"Uh, a typo. My name's really Vern."
But she'd taken another step back and she wasn't looking at him anymore; she was looking at something beyond him and clearly really liking what she saw.
"Excuse me," she said, and she walked right past Joe.
Joe turned around.
Damn it! Ken.
It was Ken, with his youthful face, intensely blue, long-lashed eyes and dark, silky wind-tousled hair; Ken, with his earnest, aloof and so very "I'm on duty" air that was an irresistible challenge for so many girls.
Jessica made a beeline his way. He could practically hear her thinking "Ooh, he's so cute!" as she introduced herself to Ken.
He turned away, knowing he'd lost the game this time.
Damn it all to hell!
Bitter experience had taught Joe that once a girl went for pretty-boy Ken, he himself didn't stand a chance. Of course, the silly things didn't stand a chance with Ken either. He'd never admitted it to him, but Joe knew Ken loved Jun.
And she loved Ken. He couldn't resist giving Ken a hard time about his apparent inaction there, but the truth was, he envied them. He was still searching.
He could hear Ken saying "I'm pleased to meet you, Jessica. Call me Wil. It seems we're supposed to be taking our places at these cooking stations…"
"Everyone," announced Chef Julian, "If you haven't already, please take your place at a cooking station."
Joe looked all around the room and realized that everyone –including Ken and Jessica- had paired up. He was the odd man out.
Jessica was chattering away to Ken, with pauses for flirtatious giggles, and standing so close to him she'd practically abandoned her own cooking station for Ken's. From what she'd said to Chef Julian, she probably really did have a clue about cooking –and now it was bloody obvious that she was going to be helping Ken too.
There was nothing for Joe to do now but take his place at the one island whose two cooking stations were still unoccupied –and it was the one to the right of Ken and Jessica's.
He tried to fight off a rising sense of panic. He didn't know a damned thing about cooking, and he didn't have anyone to imitate or to help him! He was going to make a laughing stock of himself here!
He couldn't help but cast a dirty look over at Ken. Ken's eyes met his briefly, conveying silent triumph. He knew what Ken was thinking –"I told you to stay away from Princess Jessica." And he'd gotten his way too, the bastard.
Jessica giggled yet again –a sound that now grated on Joe's ears.
"We're still waiting on one entrant, Myrtle Vlach," announced Chef Julian, his voice amplified by speakers set around the room, "But I've been informed she'll be in momentarily, so we will be starting soon. Please continue to explore your cooking stations and familiarize yourself with all your ingredients and equipment."
Myrtle? Ken was going to be cooking with the hottest chick in the place –even if she had misguided taste in men- while he was going to be stuck sharing his island with some old bag named Myrtle –who was probably an avid reader of Violet du Maurier novels!
Everything had gone wrong! And the worst part was being one-upped by Ken.
This was going to be a very, very bad day.
He peered into the small but well-stocked refrigerator below the counter and stared at the bewildering array of kitchen implements, containers and bottles that festooned his cooking station, brooding…
Chef Julian was blathering on about how, as he was visiting Ameris, he wanted to make that most Amerisian of dishes -apple pie.
Joe had never made a pie in his life, but he'd heard they were a pain in the ass to do.
He sighed quietly. Whoever Myrtle was –hell, even if she were 95 and demented- he would need to be very, very nice to her.
He needed help.
If only Galactor would really attack the place, prayed Joe –the sooner the better!
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