New Orleans
The following day.

As the rented car hit another pothole on the what was left of the Ponchartrain Expressway, Guard Duck looked out the passenger's side window and sighed. "Boy, this place really is a dump. I mean, I don't know why anyone even attempts to live here anymore, never mind still call it a city. You'd think after the Second Impact flooding, then the Hurricane Katrina assault, then Winter Storm Gertrude's flooding causing the Mississippi to change course and flow down the Atchafalaya, that people here would get the message and leave. It's swamp, ruins, crime and not a lot else, really. It makes Helmand Province look like Disneyworld."

Needing to keep his attention on the road to avoid any more craters, Snuffles merely nodded his head. "Mrrow."

Guard Duck chuckled and glanced at the map. "Yeah, and there's what's left of the Superdome. We should be getting close to the train station. You know, those storms were the best thing to happen to the Saints. Moving to LA really transformed that organisation. Brees is a shoo-in for the Hall of Fame. Five rings? Unbelievable, and had it not been for that pick six by Revis up in Detroit, he'd have had number six. Still can't believe the damn Jets pulled that one off. Cost me a ton of money."

Snuffles couldn't suppress his laughter. "Meow!
Meow!
Meow!
Meow!
MEOW MEOW MEOW!"

"Oh shut up. That chant is annoying. Anyway, it's not like you were following the Jets during the times when they sucked. You're just - oh hell, here's our exit coming up, take the first left after we get off".
Snuffles proceeded to follow his navigator's directions, and soon they were pulling into a space in a multi storey car park just outside the Union Passenger Terminal.

"Okay, we're here. And we've got a few minutes to spare. You want to get a bite to eat?"
A shake of the head. "Purrr..."
Guard Duck shrugged. "Pity. Oh well, it's your call, besides this is your turf. Lead on. Or whatever it is we're doing."
Snuffles looked at Guard Duck. "Meow."
Forty five minutes later, still sitting in the car, Guard Duck was starting to get restless. "Okay, I think this guy is late. Hope nothing happened to him. I could murder some jambalaya."
Snuffles rolled his eyes, and proceeded to pull down the drivor's visor and put it back up. "Mrrrroww."
"What do you mean, I lack patience? And why should I look down?" As Guard Duck looked down, he was aware of a red dot on his chest. "Oh shhhiii-."
"Meow!"
"Don't panic? I'm not panicking! I'm not doing anything!"

"When Mr Snuffles tells you not to panic, it means all is under control, my little feathered friend." a Russian accented voice whispered through the open window to Guard Duck, who proceeded to almost hit the roof of the car, followed by laughter. Which was joined by snickering from Snuffles.
"Come, you two, Yevgeniy is waiting, by the way, I am Pasha, head of security."

As he was speaking, a nondescript looking van pulled up, the side door opened, and another man wielding a sniper rifle gestured them inside.
"Don't worry Mr Duck, Vanya wouldn't have shot you, after all, Mr Snuffles vouched for you. Consider him there for extra security." Pasha laughed. Now let's go."
The three of them climbed into the van, and the van slowly drove off, careful not to attract any attention.

The ride was a silent one. Snuffles took the opportunity for a quick catnap, and Guard Duck merely sat keeping his thoughts to himself. Pasha and Vanya and the driver spent the time having a spirited discussion, about what, Guard Duck hadn't a clue. After twenty minutes, the van drove into an industrial estate, and after a few random turns, drove into a warehouse.

Pasha opened the door, "Okay, we're here. Everybody out." Guard Duck and Snuffles exited the van, and Guard Duck let out a low whistle.
"You are impressed, Mr Duck?" Pasha asked him.
"It's like I've died and gone to heaven" Guard Duck muttered, taking in the vast array of armaments on display. MANPADS, rifles, AAMs, Guard Duck took it all in. Gesturing to the tank parked beside the office, "I'd love to ask how you managed to get a VT-4 when they aren't even in PLA use yet, but I know better than to do that."

"You are wise, my friend." a new voice boomed. "And I like wise customers. Much easier to do business with. And it is good to see you again Snuffles Garfieldovich!"
Jaw dropping, Guard Duck looked at Snuffles. "Garfieldovich? You mean... ah, later" He just shook his head.
"Meowrr, meowr, purrrr" Snuffles said, as he and the new man, who Guard Duck assumed to be Yevgeniy, embraced each other.
"Yes, Mr Duck, I am Yevgeniy, purveyor of fine goods and some rather high tech items, and Mr Snuffles and I go back a long way. So, gentlemen, we have business to discuss. Might I suggest we start over some nice jambalaya?" he added, throwing a wink at Guard Duck.
At this, the penny dropped for Guard Duck. "You guys were checking us out that whole time. Very professional, I am most impressed. But yes, I am also very hungry. let's eat!"
Yevgeniy laughed. "A duck after my own heart, this way gentlemen."

"So, what is it you're looking for?"
"We're looking for something to blind a satellite."
At this, the Russians had a collective eyebrow raise. "What kind of satellite? RORSAT? Milstar? Weather?
"Misty."
In the murky underworld world of black market arms dealers, Yevgeniy Bondarenko was known as an unflappable man, who always seemed to be at least one or two steps ahead of his clients and rivals. A man who was never surprised. Not this time.
Yevegeniy was surprised and he couldn't disguise it, he muttered an oath in Russian. Then he laughed.
"You are funny. Even I, with my dealing in some of Snuffles Garfieldovich's prior operations would not expect something crazy, but not this crazy. So, we are being serious. What is it you are doing?"
Guard Duck met Yevgeniy's eyes. "I told you. We need to blind an NRO Misty satellite."
Yevgeniy stopped laughing. "You are serious, yes? I think you may have come to the wrong person. I am thinking maybe it is time we concluded our business." And with that, Yevgeniy turned his back, gesturing to Pasha and Vanya, who shrugged, and began to walk towards Guard Duck and Snuffles.

"Meow. Meooow, mrrow mew. Merrrow meeeeeowww."

Yevgeniy stopped. Another gesture, and the other two Russians stopped, and returned to their original positions.

"Okay. You are serious. And you have a plan. Okay, because it's you, and I know what you are capable of, I am listening. Who exactly are you dealing with?

The NRO? the UN? CIA?"
"Meow."
Yevgeniy smiled for the first time in a while. "NERV? You're going after NERV? Why didn't you say so? Oh yes, I guess we can do business. And since it's NERV, I'd be delighted to help. I owe that Ikari piece of trash some payback. So what have you got in mind?"
"Merrrrooowww, meow, meow. Mew, purrr"
"I see. Yes, I agree. The ASAT missile's too slow and obvious. By the time it even gets into orbit, their rapid reaction forces will be all over your ass. However, I think I may be able to obtain a certain portable Chinese ASAT laser that the PLAAF were working on. From what I understand, the PLAAF top brass have fallen in love with it, and are itching to use it for real at some point. I don't think the Americans or the Japanese are aware of it as far as I know, so you shouldbe able to smuggle it into Japan without too much trouble."
"Meow. Meowr, mrrow!"
"Not Japan? You mean NERV-2? That makes it easier for you, I guess. I'd love to know what you've planned out in the desert, but I know better than to ask." With a nod to Guard Duck. "See, Mr. Duck, I too know when to be wise."
Guard Duck smiled. "I'm sure someone as wise as you will be able to work out what we're up to quite easily."

Returning the smile, "Okay, so you need the TQ-3 laser. I'll get on that right away. Anything else?"
"Yeah, some fast acting, non-lethal takedown stuff. Something that can permeate an entire ventilation system, nice and quickly, without any attention."
Yevgeniy did some calculations. "Okay, doable. Anything else? Explosives? Hand weapons?"
Guard Duck smirked. "That's okay, I have that matter well in hand."
"Okay, so all we need do is agree a price. This won't come too cheap, you realise that?"
Snuffles nodded. "Meow."
Yevgeniy named his price. Guard Duck paled. Turning to Snuffles, he nodded towards the corner. Snuffles proceeded to mosey over to him, looking expectantly at him.

"That's going to eat into the money we got from the crocs big time. We're not going to be able to make much of a profit. Unless... we do a deal with him. I'm thinking, how abut we..."
Snuffles listened to Guard Duck's proposition, and to Guard Duck's suprise, nodded. "Meow meow!"
"Okay, let's see if he'll bite."

"So gentlemen, have we a deal?" Yevgeniy asked the two as they returned to him.
"Yes, Yevgeniy, your price is agreeable. However we were wondering, if we could perhaps offer a little extra in exchange for a reduction in your price."
With a smile on his face, as Yevgeniy knew where this was going. "Okay, I'm listening."
Pulling out a flash drive from somewhere, Snuffles placed it on the table. "Meow."
Now as rare as it was for Yevgeniy Bondarenko to be surprised, it was unheard of him to be surprised twice in one day. "How... I mean... where... This is real?"
Guard Duck pointed to his laptop. "Feel free to take a look. there's plenty more from where that came from ."
Yevgeniy booted up the laptop, inserted the drive, and scanned through a couple of the files. "My God, this is incredible. And it's real?"
"Taken from NERV-2's MAGI. interesting stuff, isn't it?"
Stunned, Yevegniy nodded. "Amazing. And you're willing to part with this as part of our deal? I'd figured you were doing something Evangelion related, but this is amazing. And they don't know you have all this?"
"Nope."
"This is unbelievable. I'll be honest, even with what I'm giving you, looking at this, I'm probably going to have to ask you to name your price." A rueful laugh followed.
Now it was Snuffles's turn to smile. "Meow, meooowww."
"Done. I'll have the money in your accounts by tomorrow. Now let's have a drink to celebrate our deal."

Soon they were back in the van, being driven to their car. Pasha was incredulous. "I've never seen the boss like this. He was like a kid on Christmas morning. You guys think you really can pull this off?"
"Purrrrrr..."
"Well, from what I've heard in the past about you, I wouldn't be surprised. you know something, you and I actually came close to crossing paths once.
"Meow?"
Pasha laughed ruefully. "I was in that Spetsnaz platoon back in Kostroma in '99. We ended up getting there too late to stop you. Blowing the bridge delayed us just long enough for you to get the warheads out. I have to admit, it was a masterful operation.
Snuffles laughed and held his paw out, Pasha shook it. "At least this time we're on the same side, yes? Mutual profit for all of us if this goes well."

Before long they were back at the car park. As Pasha opened the door, he looked at Snuffles. "We've had a couple of people watching your car and this area, and there's been nobody snooping round, so you guys are all clear. The boss will be in touch when he gets the goods, and we'll arrange the drop off. Goodbye and good luck."
Snuffles nodded, and Guard Duck shook his hand. "Thanks and good luck to you too, Pasha. We'll talk to you guys soon."
The door closed and the van drove off.
"Okay, we're on our own again. I guess we've got a couple of days til Yevgeniy comes through. Where to next?"
"Meow!"
"Home sounds good. I wonder what Pig's been up to? Oh, and Garfield, seriously? What was you mom's name? Arlene?"

"Rrrrrrr..."

Back at the warehouse, Yevgeniy was looking over the files with ever growing amazement. 'And to think they were willing to give me even more.' he thought, his mind flashing back to their conversation over the celebratory vodka.

"So, NERV-2. You two are going in, yes?"
"Yeah, we're going to liberate some stuff from NERV-2. Anything there you'd be interested in? A couple of those prog knives? A few gallons of LCL? Hell, make a shopping list, if you want!"
Snuffles almost chocked on his drink at that.
Yevgeniy laughed. "That would be like painting a big target on my back for Ikari and his Section-2 enforcers if I suddenly came into possession of those things. Bit too obvious, yes? I'll settle for the data, much easier to keep hold of, and won't attract near as much attention, and I can use it to make life difficult for Ikari too. Thank you for the offer, my friends, but I'll pass on that one."
His daydreaming was abruptly ended by a beep on his computer, letting him know he'd downloaded the entire drive to his laptop. 'Right, start taking care of my end of the deal now.'
Picking up the phone, he dialed a string of numbers, then waited a few seconds. Eventually he could hear the phone being answered and a voice on the other end speaking. "Ah yes, General Wa, it's Yevgeniy. it's about a certain little project you have, and I may have something you might be interested in..."

Moonachie, New Jersey
The previous day.

It was a quiet evening at Macy's Parade Studio. The last tour had finished, and the crew were getting ready to go home. In his office, Nick Quaglia, the lead designer was putting the finishing touches to a prospective design when his phone rang.
"Yes, Anna?" he asked his secretary.
"Sir, there's a gentleman on the phone, and, well, maybe you should hear what he has to say for yourself. He's a little hard to understand."
"Okay, put him through."
"Yes sir." followed by the sound of the line being connected.

"Hello, Nicholas Quaglia here, I understand you wished to speak to me?"
"Hullo! Me Larry, are you balloon maker guy? If you is, then gud, cos me haf biiig job for you!"
Quaglia didn't know what to make of this. "Sorry, is this some kind of joke?"
"Joke? Me no joke, me serious. Me needs big balloon and it must be quick." Larry was outraged that the balloon guy didn't appear to be taking him seriously.
"Okay then, if this is serious. Who are you, and why do you need a balloon?" What the hell, Quaglia thought, it's ten minutes to quitting time, and
"Me name is Larry DaCroc, and me CEO of Eetazeeb Corporayshun. Our company is in huge need of giant balloon ASAP after we was let down by sum-sump-sub-contractor. Money is no object."

Quaglia was intrigued. Clearly this was some foreign company, and while the guy's English was terrible, he did sound sincere. "Okay sir, now, it normally takes us a few months to design and build our balloons. What kind of timeframe are you looking at?"
He wasn't expecting the answer he got.

"Tuesday week!"

Oh boy.
Quaglia took a deep breath. "I'm sorry sir, but there's pretty much zero chance of that happening. We need to have preliminary sketches and you'd have to approve, before we could even get to-" only to be cut off by an angry Larry.

"You no need waste time designing. Make beeg version of me. Take pic of me and build it. As me said money no object. If you not able to do thees, mebbe you tell me if anyone else can, and me take money elsewhere!"

While Larry was ranting, Sarah Harper, Quaglia's assistant designer came in, carrying two coffees. Rolling his eyes, Quaglia pointed at the phone and hit the speakerphone button. Whoa, mouthed the assistant, Quaglia nodded.
"Okay, Mr Decroc, we can give this a try. You come down here tomorrow, and we'll can make a start. But we'll have to work out a contract. We get paid in advance, and there are no penalties if we make the deadline. Now, how big do you want the balloon?"

"250 foot high!" came the instant reply.
Two cups of coffee hit the ground.

Quaglia's mask of professionalism slipped. "Sorry, but are you actually serious?"
"Yes me is. Now name your price! Or me go elsewhere"
While this was going on, Harper was busy on a calculator. Turning it towards Quaglia, she pointed at it. Quaglia looked at it, let out a silent whistle. Turning his attention back to the phone, he spoke again, not even trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice.
"Okay, Mr Decroc, we can give it a try but it's going to be expensive." And he proceeded to name his price.
There was silence on the line, and Quaglia and Harper exchanged wry looks, then Larry came back.

"Okays, we haf deal. me be down tomorrow to help get started and gif money. What time you want me there at?"
"Uhh... umm... how does 10 am sound?" a stunned Quaglia managed to stammer out.
"Right, me see you then. Thanks Meester Balloon Guy. Bye!"
Click.
Harper looked at Quaglia. "Sorry Nick, but what the hell just happened?"

Quaglia slumped in his chair. "Seriously? I don't know, either we're all going to be insanely busy over the next couple of weeks and then have a huge profit increase, or someone's going to be in a lot of trouble. Who the hell is this Decroc guy anyways? And Eetazeeb Corporation? Never heard of them."

Harper was already looking on their phone. "Eetazeeb?" Weird name, guess it's foreign - he did sound like he was from abroad anyways... oh, gotta hit. Yeah, there is an Eetazeeb Corporation, and this Larry guy apparently IS their CEO. Wow, he's actually a crocodile. No idea what they do, but they do seem legit."

Quaglia slumped even deeper in his chair. "Well, we better start laying the groundwork. 250 feet? And he is a crocodile? We better start looking round for a lot of green material to be shipped here ASAP. So much for getting out on time, hell so much for getting much sleep over the next few days. Let's make this happen."

"On it."