DUCKS IN A ROW
Copyright 2008 Q Illespont
All characters trademark their appropriate owners
Chapter 6

Honker found himself chuckling as he watched through his binoculars

Normally, when out in the field on some sort of crimefighting mission, he would end up following someone else's lead. Understandable, of course--out of Darkwing, Launchpad, Gosalyn, and himself, he was generally the fourth in line for leadership. Being smart was a good thing, but that also included knowing when to follow. Besides, something about the Mallards' outgoingness was almost comforting, despite how it tended to leave him trapped in an adult's body, buried in quicksand, roaring through the night on the Ratcatcher, attacked by a storm of ants, kidnapped by ...

Honker shook his head. Maybe being in charge would be a little better.

At least this time, he was on what should be a sedate mission. Darkwing had sent him to watch Tuskernini, and while spying on criminals would normally be dangerous, he figured Darkwing had something else in mind. Perhaps some connection to what had affected his brother, and what may have happenned to Gosalyn, prompted the stakeout. And from what he saw, Darkwing might be onto something.

He'd watched carefuflly, and reported things to the psychiatrist beside him. Foxtail seemed more nervous, and Honker savoured being the one in charge. 'Tuskernini's boiling water. Looks like he's hesitant, like he's afraid of the stove.'

'Tenative?'

'Yeah.'

Foxtail thought, then looked around. 'I still think this was reckless of him.'

'If it was dangerous, he wouldn't let us near it. He generally handles that himself.'

The two settled in, just in time to hear a loud fanfare and a distant cheer. 'What's that?' Foxtail asked.

Honker turned to check as he heard it, and focussed in. 'It's Gizmoduck. Looks like he's leading a parade.'

Foxtail stood up to watch. Honker stayed staring at the armoured duck before turning back to see Tuskernini. 'Hey, look!'

'Where?' Foxtail asked. Honker passed the binoculars to him, and pointed the scene out.

As Foxtail watched, he saw Tuskernini cowering in his apartment, terrified. 'Mortal dread. Maybe it's his life of crime and conditioning to be afraid of crimefighters?'

Honker wrote a few things in his notebook, and turned to look at the parade. Gizmoduck had gotten closer, and was well within sight without the binoculars. A small crowd had indeed gathered around, and the free treats were being sent out like normal. 'Wonder what that's about?' Honker asked, and reached for the binoculars to resume his surveillance.

As he turned back to the apartment, he spent some time trying to refind Tuskernini's room. He looked in another, and found another man cowering under the bed. He shook his head, and resumed watching.

--

Darkwing crouched, ready, across the street from Gosalyn's new home. He aligned the monitor camera, and thumbed his concealed mic. 'Launchpad, are you getting this?'

'Got it, DW. It's as clear as mother's milk!'

Darkwing rolled his eyes. 'That's "crystal". Anyway, make sure that the computers are recording this too.'

'Gotcha!' The headset went dead, and Darkwing turned to his main focus.

He'd set up the camera to cover the front of the house. While he trusted his own observational skills, he wanted to be absolutely sure no information escaped him, which involved wiring enough cameras up to film two or three movies. He was certain that every millimetre of space would end up on film, although he kept a separate set for his own observations.

He then gritted his teeth as he heard Gizmoduck's parade approach. He'd been expecting it, and naturally he'd arrived earlier than he was really needed. And it turned in his gut just how much adoration was generally heaped on the gaudy gizmo gander.

--

Gizmoduck kept his sensors online as he cruised through the neighbourhood. He'd already noticed crowds were less enthusiastic, and a few people had even fled from him. Noncriminals, too. He scheduled an appointment to discuss vigilante tactics and publicity with Darkwing; it seemed like he was having an effect on the whole industry.

He turned his attention to the upcoming house; he'd noticed Darkwing had paid special attention to it earlier. True to form, he found Darkwing skulking in the bushes, as well as a significant amount of surveillance equipment. He paused his waving for a few moments, until a set of children came up to him. 'Would you like a sample of the new Gizmoduck action figures?' he boomed out to the public.

Most of them reached out, but he winced inwardly as he noticed two back away.

--

Darkwing scowled. Once Gizmoduck's fanfare was heard, he saw the front blinds on the house snap shut. This didn't foil the coverage in the rear, though, and he was able to see everything else going on inside. 'Launchpad, do you believe this?'

'Heck no,' his sidekick reported. 'What's Becky doin' in there?'

'What are you talking about, Launchpad?'

'Pilot buddy of mine. Guess this's where she lives when she's not at the club.'

Darkwing scowled. 'She? You mean you know Alice?'

'I don't know any Alice, but looks like Becky adopted Gos. She's a test pilot for the Air Force. At least, she's a test pilot when she's not in jail for bar brawls.'

'Very interesting,' Darkwing added. He waited until Gizmoduck had left, and the crowds thinned, then gathered his equipment and roared back to the Tower.

--

'Are ya sure it's good for me to be seen with ya, DW? You know how the judge can be.' Launchpad fidgeted as Darkwing returned, remembering the earlier threats.

'This is more important,' Darkwing said. He first took the notes from Honker and Foxtail, and read while Honker spoke.

'Tuskernini was terrified, Mr Darkwing, sir,' Honker began. 'He didn't come out from hiding for about an hour.'

'It's a halfway house for other convicts,' Foxtail added. 'Some of them jeered, some of them just bore it, but a few had the same reactions as Tuskernini did.'

'Names?' Darkwing asked. Honker turned the report to the page showing the requested information.

Darkwing then dropped the report into his analysis computer, and turned to Launchpad. 'Give me everything you know about Becky; you said you've met her before.'

Launchpad scratched his chin. 'Well, there's not much else to say. Flies pretty good, doesn't crash as often as you'd expect, and sometimes starts brawls when out drinking. Nothin' unusual.'

'What's her full name?'

'Rebecca Cunningham, Jr. Named after her grandma.'

Darkwing wrote it down, then reached to bring up a display. 'Looks like someone I met about a couple of months ago. Huge bar brawl.'

'That's right!' Launchpad yelled. 'That's the day you came back with a wrench bent over your--'

'Enough details, LP.' Darkwing typed more, and dropped those notes in. 'Gizmoduck?'

'There were a lot of people who went into hiding. Either the crime wave's up or you've ruined the name of costumed crimefighters, and I doubt even you could do that singlehandedly.'

Darkwing growled. 'Just show me where you were getting the cold shoulder. Don't bother including here.'

Gizmoduck printed out a set of data points; Darkwing looked those over, and fed that information into the computer. His fingers flew over the keyboards, the electronic brain in the machine racing his mind over analyzing and manipulating the data gathered.

After several moments, he leaned back, and closed his eyes. He folded his fingers over his abdomen and started pushing his lips in and out, back and forth, almost intent on that simple fact.

Foxtail looked on in rapt interest. 'This is incredibly similar to how the famous Nero Wolf would look in the detective novels when he was thinking about a case.'

'Nah,' Launchpad said, 'he's probably got something stuck in his teeth.'

After several minutes (and a toothpick), Darkwing smiled. He typed a command into the machine, which broke off its process and displayed a map. 'There. This is what I've been thinking. Giz, I think you're on the right track--going the wrong way entirely, but on the right track.'

'What do you mean, Darkwing?'

'Simple. Somehow, you're a more popular crimefighter in Saint Canard than I am, so I had you go out and gauge just how popular you still were. While you did that, Honker and I were watching two specific data points. Here's where you went by Tuskernini, and some of the criminals there were terrified. You also mentioned all sorts of other folks who acted like you were a tank on its way to kill them, here here and here.

'And then you came to this house, where Ms Cunningham was. This was set up a few weeks ago, shortly after she was taken in on a disorderly conduct charge. The house isn't under her name, and she's not even using that name at this point, BUT the name on the mortgage is linked to an avant-garde protester. We can only assume that's what Bob was.

'So I took all that information, including which houses shut you out, and I found two sets of links. Some of them were sent to an experimental rehabilitation programme for offenders, ranging from speeding tickets to mass murder. Others were in a school counselling setup. And the only difference in THOSE data points were the ages, which matches which programme they'd been sent to!

'And those two seemingly separate sets of circumstances come together right HERE.' He thumped his finger on the screen, and looked at the address. 'The Friendly Outreach for Uniform Love. F O U L.'

'You think it's FOWL, DW?' Launchpad asked.

'I wouldn't put it past them, but this is my next stop. Don't wait up for me.' He swirled his cape and evaporated.

--

Darkwing glowered out from the nearby bushes. Cunningly hidden, he saw the car of Principal Farnsworth pull into a guest space; the principal herself got out and entered the building. 'I should've figured they'd need her approval to do this to the kids; they must have the prison warden as well,' he muttered. Sneaking silently through shadow, the dexterous duck dove past the double doors.

Inside, he followed carefully, doing his best to keep ahead or behind--whichever kept him out of view as the principal walked on. After she entered an office, he looked up and down the hall. No-one was nearby, and it seemed like it was late enough in the day that no-one would think something odd about a potted plant being moved. He hid within, but snaked a stethoscope to the door to listen to the conversation within.

'How may I help you, Ms Farnsworth?' a voice said. It wasn't one he remembered.

'It's about the therapy programme,' Farnsworth answered. 'I'm worried it's changing the students too much. I've had some parents even ask me about how neccessary the whole thing is.'

'It's still in an experimental phase, ma'am,' the other person said. Must be either a spokesman or the man in charge, Darkwing thought to himself. 'The work we're doing should help eliminate antisocial and abnormal behaviours all over the world. And we're working ever harder to make sure that our techniques are safe and effective.'

'Perhaps I should pay a visit to see what this involves,' she asked. Darkwing hoped the other man agreed to it.

'Um ... of course,' he answered. 'I'll show you into our most recent adjustment centre. This way, please.'

Darkwing took the hint and made sure he looked like any other office potted plant. The door opened, and Farnsworth exited, following another nondescript canid man. 'Follow me, ma'am,' he said, and lead the way to a door on the far end of the hall.

Darkwing crawled up behind, keeping out of sight and diving into random offices and breakrooms until he caught up to them. The distant door led into a stairwell, and at a discrete distance he descended. When they came out, he saw an anteroom with several chambers leading off. Some showed 'occupied' signs, although one was empty. The doctor led Farnsworth into an empty chamber; Darkwing snuck over to one of the others.

He peered in through the window, and saw a boy strapped to a chair. Two almost generic-looking men were checking over equipment on the far wall; one looked like it was monitoring the 'patient'. The boy himself seemed terrified, his gaze forced onto a monitor up and above him. Whatever was displayed was out of view of Darkwing; the screen was facing into the room, the same direction he was.

The next room held a somewhat older girl. She was secured like the boy was, but seemed calmer, and nodded in time once in a while. She wore glasses, so Darkwing tried to angle himself to catch the display in the reflection from her lenses. It seemed to be showing pictures as opposed to text. There was no sound through the door, either.

The third cell held another man, and this one Darkwing recognised; it was the guy he caught speeding earlier. The man was standing, until a therapist pointed to the chair. The man dove in quickly while the scientists fastened him down. One leaned in to apparently ask a question; the speeder nodded in reply, and after that the procedure seemed to start.

Darkwing finally reached the door Farnsworth had entered; both the principal and her host were primarily viewing the equipment in the back. He snuck in, carrying the potted plant disguise, and made sure he could get a good view of the entire room.

'Now, Miss Farnsworth,' the spokesman said, 'I'll show you how it all works. Please sit here.' He led her to the chair in question.

Farnsworth sat down, and watched warily as she was secured. 'Why the restraints, Dr Smith?' she asked.

'It's for your safety,' he responded. Once the principal was fastened down, he allowed himself a chuckle. 'And mine, especially since I'm going to give you the works.' He walked to a table in the far side of the room as Farnsworth realised her dilemma.

Darkwing crouched, rehearsing his entry speech. Just as he was about to start the smoke, he heard, once again, the Gizmoduck fanfare. He groaned and slapped his forehead--he had the villain right where he wanted him, with a hostage to rescue, and that metal mallard had to meddle!

The door to the cell was ripped back, and the unicycle hero rolled in. 'I highly doubt this has been approved by the American Medical Association!' he yelled, and extended a lockpick to spring Farnsworth free; she ran away once released.

'Neither is property damage!' Dr Smith replied. 'In fact, it's people like YOU that ruin worlds. Always barging in, always so self-important. Well, here's some instant therapy for your delusions of grandeur!' He pulled out a small raygun.

Darkwing looked at the weapon, trying to remember where he saw it before. Gizmoduck scoffed at the device. 'I hardly think that will be able to get through the armour of truth, justice, and AWK!'

Dr Smith impatiently interrupted Gizmoduck by blasting him. Gizmoduck stood in the beam for a few moments, then wobbled, and finally fell over. 'What ... what did you do to me?'

Smith put his weapon away and chuckled. 'Instant therapy.' He grunted as he pulled the downed crimefighter to the chair where Farnsworth was. 'Right now, it's designed to remove super powers from its victims. Looks like it works when the powers are mechanical instead of natural. Then again, it's a wonder any of that primitive stuff works.'

Gizmoduck struggled, but was barely able to move his arm, let alone break out of the restraints. 'Primitive?' he yelled. 'This is state of the art crimefighting equipment!'

'Not where I come from,' Smith gloated, and grabbed at his muzzle. He then pulled, and confirmed Darkwing's suspicions that started when he pulled the weapon.

'Even an Ordinary Guy from Mertz can overcome this tinker-toy stuff.'