Of Toys and Curses
25
F.O.W.L.
Rustle, bang, eerie shriek.
Run, dodge, swerve, splat, ouch.
Thud, rumble, ear splitting cry.
Run, swerve, duck, splat.
After careful examination of all the evidence, Drake was forced to conclude that a, Bird Cage Apartments was genuinely haunted by actual ghosts that existed; b, you didn't have to be afraid of ghosts to have an extremely intense dislike of them; and c, nobody wanted to be around ghosts and that especially including him and F.O.W.L..
Drake was forced to detour back to his flat for a shower. As he waited for the washing machine to finish getting the ectoplasm out of his clothes and utility sash, he had a second lunch to try and catch up from the last few days of eating nothing. While the dryer worked, he got back into his building search file.
The complete failure burned like too much vinegar down his throat; he should've recovered the rock by now. Instead he'd chosen wrong and wasted two hours on a useless expedition into ghost central and another one and a half hours wrapped around that in travel time and recovery. In his rush to prove Agent Fishburn wrong, he'd ended up proving her right. No S.H.U.S.H. agent would've made such a basic mistake; such a hefty haunting was inhospitable for any lengthy stay.
Oh, well, he couldn't really say he'd failed until he'd gotten to the bottom of his list.
Next one was the stadium complex which had plenty of large basketball and other rooms to hide in. No recent ghost sightings. Drake filed another scouting form and went to get his clothes out of the dryer.
He started putting the clothes on and stopped himself. "Stop putting Agent Fishburn first." He growled and went to the ironing board.
"I am Shinqua," he recited quietly to himself as he ironed his purple clothes. "I am water. I am wind. I am flame. I am rock. I am whole. I am Darkwing Duck." He collected his shuko spikes and smoke bombs into his utility belt with his grapple. If he did manage to find F.O.W.L., that meant he needed all the help he could to stay up and out of sight.
By the time he was heading out the door Drake felt completely calm.
No F.O.W.L. at the stadium.
Next to investigate was the construction site midtown. Overall it looked like a fun place in the fact that it did not have any ghost sightings reported there and he could use his grapple.
Approaching by rooftop, Drake immediately saw the snipers on the third floor. One on each corner. Down below, he gauged their scope. There was a site office near the back fence. The gates on either side were open. A truck hauling dirt made a departure as he watched. There was a large pile of I-beams that could be used to block the second sniper's scope; but not the first. There were a couple eggmen in yellow jumpsuits and white helmets with black visors making patrol rounds. Given all this, Drake was left wondering when changing of the guard time happened. Unfortunately, that was hereto unknown information for him, just like the Museum robbery. No; he had to do this completely blank slate.
There wasn't anything else going on this side of the building lot at the moment apart from smaller piles of construction materials and a few choice weeds. Well, he'd filed the form to scout the place out and his job was to find a rock bearing the description of 'stolen', so it was time to move.
Drake timed the firing of his grapple for when the sniper wasn't looking, hooked and swung himself over to the fourth flour support beams. From above he jumped down and knocked out the problematical sniper. He waited for the patrol guards to turn away. On the rope of his grapple, he slipped down the side of the building and opened the main door before pulling himself back up the rope to ceiling level. Like the police station, he thought to himself. No camera had spotted him yet as everything remained status quo. Good so far.
With his shuko spikes, Drake slowly made his way across the ceiling of the F.O.W.L. midtown secret underground facility. It wasn't old like S.H.U.S.H. facilities. The security cameras were fancy low profile domes. He wanted to see if the F.O.W.L. surveillance crew would put up a full scale fight.
From above the door, Drake knocked and waited.
The door opened. He knocked the guy out from behind and jumped in the room to bring down the other eggman before he could barely utter more than a sound of surprise.
Had they called for security? He dragged the first unconscious eggman into the room, bound and gagged them. Drake studied the rooms on the monitors. The answer to that question was no; everything remained peaceful. There were a lot of monitors. It looked like they might be excavating on the bottom level as well as building machinery on the top level.
He made out the central testing chamber for the robotics. Interesting, but where was the rock? Why did F.O.W.L. need a rock? He gritted his beak in frustration. Why, Agent Fishburn?
Recite.
Monetary value
Remolding value
Chakra essence
Various atomic and energetic properties
Drake considered. If they were excavating, could it be a diamond to help speed up their drilling?
He pulled out his phone to start documenting his progress.
'I have reached the FOWL security observation room.'
'It looks from what I see on the monitors that FOWL are'
A message came through over the top of his report file.
'Summary Dismissal Notice issued 17:00'
"What?" Drake blinked as it disappeared.
Ignoring the interruption, Drake got back to finish his note about the cameras. The field had locked off and a warning was suddenly coming up.
'No changes permitted.'
"Why not?"
With a frown, Drake tried the next field. A different warning came up.
'All entries subject to management review prior to posting to case file.'
Drake stared at the screen. "What was that that just popped up? A 'summary dismissal notice'?"
"I've been fired? Why?!"
He scrolled back over the locked fields.
It clearly showed he'd been working all day. Unfortunately time stamps were the best part of the file.
The name of his case file was locked with the unprofessionally sarcastic working title of 'A Rock of the Stolen Variety'. There was next to no evidence filled in on the crime scene report; he'd marked most of the fields as 'contaminated' and 'destroyed'. The reason he'd given for proceeding was locked in as 'Director Grizlykoff said F.O.W.L. so F.O.W.L. is what I investigate and I'll try to find a rock along the way'. Then was his lunch break and the building search work. Then there was a massive four hour chunk of useless notes, forms and reports dedicated to Bird Cage Apartment's ghost problem mixed up with his afternoon recovery break. Then was the stadium which had nothing to do with F.O.W.L. other than being in his search. His latest search had a cursory note saying 'I found it' and finally the comments he'd put in as the time hit five o'clock.
It looked so bad, the notice was probably issued automatically from the computer and had nothing in actual fact to do with Agent Fishburn not liking him.
Alone, with suddenly no S.H.U.S.H. back up available, Darkwing Duck was in the middle of a large criminal organisation's facility. One thing for sure was that he had to keep moving.
Drake took the board off line, plunging the room into darkness. He didn't know when the relief team would come in. They would be in for one heck of a surprise. He pulled the plug on the board and severed the cords. He needed to clear five levels, so he should be seeing the light of... he checked his watch and sighed. No Darkwing Duck patrol tonight.
The last thing he needed was F.O.W.L. getting an action picture of him. For sure these guys weren't fans of Darkwing Duck. If they spotted him, it'd be a whole lot worse than that.
Drake slipped behind security teams on patrol, following, ducking, creeping and occasionally scaling the walls to get clear. A silent shadow.
Eventually he got to the drill machine they were working on.
The museum's diamond was right in the midst of the workers.
Knocking out busy eggmen scientists from behind was easy. He grabbed out the diamond from its seat and dropped it in a utility pocket for S.H.U.S.H. return.
On his way back along the ceiling, Drake had come down with a case of curiosity. They were digging a hole, but they were also building machinery. Who cared if Darkwing Duck indulged himself more Intel of F.O.W.L.? Just because he also happened to be personally interested in the stuff as a crime fighter. He stopped at the testing chamber junction.
Drake listened, waiting for the patrolling guards to turn and leave the room, and slipped through the door as it closed behind them. The room had various machinery and equipment. Two eggmen scientists were working. Drake jumped down on top of them. He dragged their unconscious forms to the back of the room and returned to look at what they were working on.
The cover of the panel lifted off easily. What Drake saw made his heart leap. Motorbike! He took out his phone, snapping pictures at everything under each panel. Well, no, F.O.W.L. probably weren't building a motorbike exactly, but he certainly was! If he'd had the bike today, he'd already have found the rock for S.H.U.S.H., he might not have lost his job and he could've done something of appreciable value to the city tonight like stopping actual crime. Once he got out of here, he still needed to walk back to the Museum which was in the complete opposite direction of his flat.
Drake pulled out the useful electronic boards and a few choice small parts for the sake of convenience and shoved them in his jacket and spare utility pockets. His Ratcatcher was going to be way cooler than the one on the TV show!
Another second and he pushed himself to make an exit. No time for geeking out right now. The patrol guards would return. Drake hastened up the corridor, stopping at the door, creeping behind the four eggmen heading off.
The big cafeteria that had been empty earlier was now packed with eggmen. What the heck? Fortunately they were all facing the opposite direction. Unfortunately, that vague direction was the exit he was after.
A tall, buff rooster in a white Armani suit and looking very immaculate at the front was talking to them. Something inspiring about F.O.W.L. being all the choice words and nothing of strategic importance for Drake to memorize for later that he hadn't already guessed from his very long visit.
He crept behind the eggmen, getting to the side of the room. He was now staring, infuriated by how closed that door was down the other end. No matter what now, they were going to know he was here. His day had already been a ridiculously long run around. Find a corner and waste another hour of his time for what? Agent Fishburn?
Drake got behind the most separated eggman at the back and silently knocked him out. Drake quickly shoved his cape and hat into his pocket and jammed the eggman's shirt over the top of his and put the helmet on. All he needed was to clear out of this room in one piece.
He was nearly at the door when the phone message sound went off in his pocket.
He turned about to see everyone staring at him.
"Sorry, forget: no phones. I'm new here. Did anybody say 'lunch'?"
"Get him!"
Drake ripped the door open and slammed it shut behind him, flipping the lock and taking off at top speed.
He got up to the surface to the abandoned building site and heard the front gate shutting. Huge football stadium lights suddenly flicked on in his face.
"Ow!" He complained and took off at a dodging run to take up position behind the I-beams. Re-group.
The only other way out was the other side of the lot with the site office. He could use that for a bit of cover to get himself over the wall.
"I dunno who you are, but you're gonna be real sorry you messed with F.O.W.L.!"
"F.O.W.L.?" Drake questioned, as the speech guy got to the front of the cargo crate sized office just before him. "Thought it was WOLF, you know, war of league fans?"
The guy lurched at him with a boxing move. Drake blocked.
"Break into F.O.W.L. how stupid are you?"
"You're kidding!" Drake laughed, landing a right hook, "F.O.W.L. is ten times better to break into than S.H.U.S.H., you guys are a cakewalk 'and', your stuff is wa-ay cooler. Look at this." He pulled out a circuit board. "This is going to put me over the line! You have no idea how happy I am right now!" He put it in his jacket again, not seeing any 'aha!' on the guy's face.
"I'm gonna make you dead."
That meant it wasn't on tracker, Drake smiled. "Think about it, boss! I get my stuff from you, S.H.U.S.H.'ll leave me alone. It's perfect!"
"You got a name I can put on your gravestone, kid?"
Drake gave him a web-kick. "Thanks, that's very nice of you." He pulled out his gas gun and fired the grapple over the top of the fence nearby. "But considering how embarrassing that dying in this daycare would be, just put me down with 'He got fired'."
"Heh, very funny."
Drake jumped the fence and landed his feet on solid pavement. He took a calming breath and dashed up the street. Mid way to the museum, he took off the eggman clothes and looked at them. Two sizes too big, even with his bulky jacket underneath. "Guess who's taking a trip to the attic? He put his cape back on and continued, checking his phone.
'Needed at home.'
He filled in his notes of what had just happened.
Drake stepped up into the front of the museum and found the S.H.U.S.H. crew nearly finished their work reinforcing the security system.
Agent Fishburn eyed him with quiet fury. "The day's gone." She said snippishly. "No point starting work now. Go home. And don't worry about coming back. I've already filed your performance review."
Drake stopped. "Oh, so it 'was' you. I thought it was weird that the computer would go off over a draft file." He pulled out the diamond from its utility pocket. "Found it in the 'trash out the back'." Drake handed the diamond to her. "Who's the guy with the motivational speeches and solid boxing moves?"
"What on earth are you going on about?" She asked in confusion looking at the diamond in her hand.
Something snapped in Drake's head. "You've already fired me, Agent Fishburn, so quit playing this childish game and answer the question!" Drake responded tempestuously, "What is the name of the rooster?" He asked in annoyance, "He's a big guy wearing a white Italian brand suit and he has a prosthetic beak. Give me his name and I'm gone."
"Steelbeak? He's only been a top agent of F.O.W.L. for 'twenty years'. Shouldn't a filing clerk know that? Why are you bothering me about him?"
Drake turned away, "Because I needed the name for the report," he answered dryly, walking away. "Why else would I bother you for anything?" Drake stepped out of the museum, fighting off the feeling of gloom she'd given him. He picked up his eggman helmet from the step.
As he walked home, he saw a drink bottle forgotten by a bus stop. He picked it up and shoved it forcefully in the rubbish bin nearby.
"No point complaining about performance stats. Everyone else meets them. It's a straightforward case of me calling my agent in the morning and telling her I want to go back to acting."
Drake tried to put off the feeling of misgiving. "Need to get home to dad." As he walked, he filed the remains of his report about returning what turned out to be a large diamond and put an extra note in identifying the rooster he'd previously described as 'Steelbeak'.
S.H.U.S.H. had fallen too far beyond Darkwing Duck's ability to help.