1961

Kowalski had barely closed the door of Buck Rockgut's empty office behind him when he moved swiftly to the window and climbed out of it. Up till now, his actions had seemed normal enough for the penguin who was closest to the description of absent minded professor. After all, if he could forget about the maguffium on the Bunsen burner, he could forgetfully trip off the high tech security system in Buck Rockgut's West Berlin office? At least, that's what he was counting on Rockgut's secretary to assume after he'd marched into his yet to arrive superior's office purporting to be tired of waiting and called through the door he'd locked immediately afterwards that he was putting the top secret documents he was carrying in the safe. "Don't worry, I'm a genius, I can work out the combination!" He'd called cheerfully back at the secretary's protests as he walked past the safe and climbed out of the window.

Out of his bag he'd then removed what looked like a magician's baton. With the press of a button it extended like an umbrella, hitting the side of the safe with a hollow tap, right where Kowalski knew one of the high tech sensors (which he'd designed) was situated. Alarms sounded and metal bars slammed down over the windows a few inches from his toes and a steel door locked in front of the unassuming wooden one. "Great science!" Kowalski yelled as if he was surprised by the result, and pressing the button again, the device retracted. Kowalski immediately started to climb along the side of the building up towards the roof, doing his best to avoid being spotted.

For Penguin's continental field headquarters, the roof was surprisingly accessible and Kowalski easily climbed across to the next rooftop. He climbed down the fire escape to where his transportation awaited him.


"Well I'm terribly sorry, but it's simply not my problem anymore!" Private protested, doing his best to seem angry, all the while feeling rather silly in his slightly oversized delivery man's outfit. He motioned to the truck beside which the ornate white marble and gold larger than life statue of Odysseus rested.

"Like I said before, this is a maximum security prison, not an art gallery." The guard countered for the second time.

"I can see that," Private countered, "And certainly I thought it strange to deliver the statue here of all places, but it's not my job to wonder why, simply to haul the rock from point A to point B - if you don't mind my saying so." Private began to walk away. Kowalski's script insisted that he push the point further, but Private strongly disliked arguing, and didn't want to unnecessarily extend the unpleasant situation. "But you ordered it," Private motioned to the forged work order, "So now it's your problem; there's nothing I can do about it, my shift just ended."

"Can't you take it back to wherever it came from?" The guard demanded exasperatedly.

"Warehouse is closed." Private shrugged, "Certainly, I could take it home with me, but if it gets stolen, that's on you."

Private and Rico left the guard at a loss for words, driving off in the truck and leaving the unfortunate man with the golden statue. For a moment he stared it in utter dismay, and while still uncertain of what was eventually going to happen to it, he knew it couldn't sit outside the service entrance. Reluctantly the statue was covered with a tarp and carried into the prison where it was set down in a spare room near the guardroom while it's surprise caretaker left to find out what he was supposed to do with it.

Muffled by the tarp there was a soft click and half the statue opened like a door, just a crack. Kowalski gave the statue another shove against the heavy tarp, finally getting it open barely wide enough for him to slip through the gap, close the hollow statue he'd entered in, and crawl out from under the infernal tarp he rather awkwardly hadn't anticipated. At least they hadn't put him in a crate. Kowalski brushed off his counterfeit prison uniform, and glanced at his watch before abandoning it in the statue. He counted down the two minutes till the assigned time, then stepped out into the hallway just in time to be caught by a guard returning from his shift.

Kowalski found it somewhat humorous as the guard demanded how he got out of his cell and just how he'd been attempting to escape. During the war he and the team had spent well over a year mostly under false names attempting to escape from Dr Blowhole's POW camp. Now he was assuming a current inmate's identity to break into a prison on his side. While Kowalski was being identified by the number on his uniform, he slipped a small egg shaped ball of grey clay out of his pocket which he pressed against the grey concrete wall behind him, unnoticed. A few seconds after he'd completed the action, Kowalski was searched. Nothing was found. A choice, psychologically chosen insult and Kowalski was roughly shoved back against the wall. He retrieved the lump of clay, slipping it back into his pocket before his hands were cuffed behind him and he was marched off to solitary.

The door slammed shut with a heavy metal clang and once again Kowalski retrieved that lump of clay from his pocket. Tearing the clay away Kowalski dug out a little metal case containing all the tools he'd need to circumnavigate the lock on the cell. He approached the door, tools in hand, then paused, uncertain. In the lid of the case was a crumpled slip of paper he'd brought along just for such a breakdown in morale. Kowalski took the crumpled telegram out of the case, reading it through one last time. It stated plain and simple that the request to have Blowhole placed into his custody had been denied. Kowalski put the telegram and the case back into his pocket. If he couldn't borrow Blowhole officially, Blowhole would just have to 'escape' to New York where when he'd be 'captured' he'd be in Kowalski's custody.

Kowalski had practiced again and again opening from the inside locks of the same model as those used in the prison, so opened the door with relative ease and just enough noise to attract a guard. Just one guard. The guard knocked twice, demanding what was going on in there, and on the third knock, Kowalski pulled him into the cell. Thirty seconds later Kowalski strolled out of the cell in a guard's uniform. Kowalski was pleased with his plan so far as he continued down the solitary cell block where he'd been told Blowhole had recently been placed.

Kowalski quickly found Blowhole's cell, getting nowhere near the amount of time he'd hoped to get to think about what he was about to say than he'd expected. Attempting to distract himself from the serious with the trivial, Kowalski used up a moment of the little thinking time he had to thoroughly curse the formula that had informed him he could read on the plane and plan later.

Still engrossed in his own thoughts, Kowalski unlocked the door and was only brought completely back to reality when the heavy metal door shut behind him with an ominous clang. Blowhole looked up with a vaguely amused expression of surprise.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the pen-gu-in?" Dr Blowhole spoke, trying to appear bored or at least nonchalant, but in truth he didn't get many visitors. Rarely Penguins. "Look where we both are now. It seems you were right about the outcome of the war, though on the other hand you never did get that nice research job back from Nigel – I heard they put you in the field. From what I've heard it's been mostly downhill for you from there."

"Says the guy serving a life sentence for what you did to Manfredi and Johnson." Kowalski replied, his tone making it clear he wasn't in the mood for banter. Frankly, he didn't even really care how Blowhole had gotten the information on his circumstances since the war had ended. However, it was clear from the arch villain's demeanour that he didn't know what Kowalski was about to tell him. Blowhole's crimes might be unforgivable, but he wasn't entirely without feeling for certain people.

"Well, I believe the year is 1961, so it's been, what, 16 years now since the last time I've seen one of your little team. What could I have possibly done from in here to warrant this unofficial visit, since I doubt you've been demoted to working here yet?" Clearly Blowhole was up to something and hoping Kowalski wasn't on to it, but that was almost certainly unimportant at the moment. "Well, what kind of cases are you working on these days, at least for starters?"

"If you know about my current status, you already know most of it, so I'm not going to waste your time." Kowalski replied seriously. Might as well get right to the point. "I'm here to give you good news and bad news. What do you want to hear first?"

"Good news first, since that's probably what you didn't want me to pick." Blowhole replied with a smirk, "I can still read your lesser intellect like a book."

"Suit yourself, but I predict you're going to find it much more difficult to understand it this way," Kowalski replied. Blowhole scoffed something to the effect that he was just trying to cover up the slip up. But Kowalski didn't feel like fighting him on that. Kowalski took out a thin document folded in the little case, "I've been authorized to offer you the opportunity to assist Penguin on a case. Remember Alius? He's come a long way since you last saw him escaping from your camp?"

"Your nickname for your counterpart on Nigel's replacement team?" Blowhole replied, "I'm incarcerated, not completely cut off from reality. Yes, I've heard he runs most of New York's criminal underworld now. Went power mad during an undercover operation, killed or drove away the rest of his team. He certainly has come a long way. Not to mention he stole my sister from you."

"Yes." Kowalski replied, his expression darkening noticeably.

"Still can't let it go to this day." Blowhole smiled mockingly, "Ever consider moving on…?"

"I told Nigel there was something about Alius that was unstable, for all he listened to me." Kowalski interrupted, "Hans had way too high an opinion of him. Regardless, the objective of this operation is to remove him and his organization." Blowhole's glib smile only increased, since it was clear Kowalski had taken Doris' decision even worse than Blowhole had expected. "We'll fly you out to New York, you'll do your part, and we'll send you back."

"Do I get any kind of time off my sentence?"

"No."

"Any privileges? I could use access to a lab…?"

"Completely out of the question."

"Then why in the vast knowledge of science do you think I'd help you?" Blowhole laughed, "Impossibly enough I think becoming a field agent has made you even more naive than Private."

"The bad news would be your incentive, though clearly not a positive one, it's one you'll understand very well." Something in Kowalski's voice told Blowhole whatever it was, was serious. He settled back in his chair with a grudging sigh. "One thing I will admit you're an expert on is persistence in seeking revenge."

"Alright, go ahead; it's not like my time's all that precious these days." Kowalski at first said nothing, staring at the document that contained the agreement Blowhole was extremely unwilling to sign. "Any time this decade?"

"Look, I'm not sure how I'm supposed to put this to you." Kowalski snapped, "Frankly, sometimes I think giving you life was too lenient, but my principles say…"

"It's nice to know I'm not forgotten." Blowhole commented. Kowalski's glare increased tenfold when he noticed Blowhole was still smiling.

"Alright, you want it this way: your sister's dead." Blowhole's smile immediately disappeared. For a moment his initial expression of pure shock and grief wavered as he searched for any way to question Kowalski's sincerity, but Kowalski's pained expression was real. "At least three people had tried to cover it up before I got to the scene, but Alius killed her."

"The other Kowalski?" Blowhole scoffed, latching on to an opportunity to doubt what he was being told, "That's ridiculous, he is, amazingly, more devoted to her than you are. Look, if she's just disappeared, good for her, but…"

"There's a body, Blowhole, there's no doubt it was her or that there's a bullet lodged just next to her heart. Don't believe me, just smuggle in a newspaper or ask one of your 'sources'." After a moment where neither of them moved or spoke, Blowhole slowly nodded. Kowalski handed him the document and a pen, "Initial all the pages of the agreement and sign it. Then I'll get you out of here."