June 19th 1950
The three men strode into the bank, weapons aimed at the guards who had immediately attempted to draw their weapons. Rico motioned for them to toss them into the centre of the room.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sure you've read the papers, so you know exactly what we're going to ask for, and what we will do, if you don't do it." Skipper announced. The three men walked further into the room, approaching the counters.
"Yes, we have read about your exploits," A familiar Russian accented voice replied. The team turned around, to see a tall, red haired man, wearing a frayed black eye patch.
"The Red Squirrel." Skipper stated, showing neither surprise nor alarm.
"The Squirrel knows we're going to rob the bank. Now, if he's as predictable as he's been the last ten years, he's going to turn up himself." Kowalski explained.
"So the whole robbery spree was just to get his attention?" skipper asked.
"That, and we also needed to get him desperate enough for his ego to consider us more than another of bunch Rockgut's flunkies."
"I see you too read the papers. Now, be so kind as to drop your weapons." The Squirrel demanded.
"You and what army?" Skipper laughed.
"Me and this army…" Behind them, twenty armed men, stood up from their hiding spaces behind the counters, guns trained on the team, "…A cliché, I know but everyone falls for it. Now, will you drop your weapons? I plan on making an example of this."
"The Red Squirrel will unquestionably attempt to ambush us, and since he's not particularly bright, and he sticks to his patterns, he's probably going to hide 20 to 50 armed associates about the room."
"And the only place to hide that many people, and give them cover during a shootout…"
"Would be behind the counters?" Kowalski replied, "Yes."
"No," skipper contradicted, "I think you should drop your weapons."
"Really, Skipper? And I thought your lieutenant was supposed to be a genius."
"I am, and you need to learn to count," Kowalski looked up at the ceiling, "Ever wonder where our fourth member went?" Private, who was seated atop the decorative chandelier overhanging the teller's counters, smiled mischievously, his gun was aimed at the cable attaching it to the ceiling.
"Just in case you haven't worked this out, if my Private shoots the cable, your men, are all dead. So, they can put down their weapons, or they can be crushed by a giant chandelier," skipper took a step forward, daring his captor to shoot him, " I'm sure even if you told them to shoot us, they would value their own lives enough to realise they shouldn't."
"They're bluffing!" The Squirrel's appeal was more to his men than to his former captives, "If their man shoots the cable, he'll die too."
"Private's expendable," Skipper replied coldly, "Unlike your men, mine would do anything to complete the mission. You should invest more in blind loyalty."
"So now we have them all in one place. What do we do now? Stand there and get shot at?" Skipper asked.
"No, we threaten them," Kowalski replied, "Do you know the first thing I thought when I looked at the plans of that bank?"
"It had beautiful Greco Roman arches?" Private guessed.
"No, that gigantic chandelier is a health and safety hazard. Now, the targets are behind the counters. So, we simply put a man up on that chandelier, we can do that some time at night, (we've snuck in how many thousand times?) and he can threaten to drop the thing on their heads unless they surrender."
"What about the man on the chandelier? Won't they know we're bluffing?"
"They don't know much about us. From some of the rumours I've been hearing, it wouldn't be surprising to many people if you were perfectly fine with sacrificing a member of the team."
"But I won't really…"
"Of course not. I wouldn't suggest this course of action if that was the case."
Skipper took another step forward; just as he heard the clatter of the Red Squirrel's men's guns hitting the floor.
"So Red, what was it you said about making an example of me? Well, I'm feeling like making an example of you."
"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!" Rockgut exclaimed, "Setting all that up so you could kill their leader right in front of their faces. Just like Skipper did with RAT."
"It's simple psychology, sir," Kowalski replied, "Now we have their undying loyalty and respect, not to mention the fact they're terrified of us."
"And what about the second in commands? I'm guessing you're going to hunt them down?"
"No sir, that isn't necessary." Skipper explained, "We have their bank accounts, remember. They can't disappear without those. Anyway, it's more profitable for them to work for you now."
"Hmph! They got lucky," Hans sneered, "My men have always been far more productive." Rockgut ignored the comment, continuing his praise.
"The Squirrels had been a thorn in my side for too long. Still there's rumours of a new competitor setting up. Hans here says he goes by the code name of Mammal-fish…"
"Blowhole..." Skipper growled.
"Blowhole? You know him?"
"Col. Dr Eliot Blowhole," Skipper replied, "Sure I know him. I suppose you could call him my arch enemy."
"He's a Nazi war criminal. What's he doing starting a gang?" Hans demanded, then seeing an opportunity to contest his rival, continued, "Is this a trick? Are you using him as some kind of puppet to take over?"
"He's after revenge, trying to beat as at our own game…" Skipper replied.
"Ah, so it's your fault your little ghost from the past came back to haunt us." Hans interrupted.
"We captured Blowhole, and handed him over to the authorities. It's their fault he escaped," Skipper replied, "We beat him once. We'll beat him again."
"And so prisoner transport makes yet another blunder!" Skipper paced the room in frustration, "Why didn't you tell me he'd escaped?!"
"I… I didn't think he'd be a threat." Kowalski replied.
"You're lying. There's something you're not telling me. Deep fried swordfish, you're almost as incompetent as those idiots in prisoner transp…"
"Those 'idiots' in prisoner transport were Manfridi and Johnson." Skipper froze.
"Manfridi… Johnson…"
"That's why I didn't tell you he'd escaped. You'd want to know exactly how he'd escaped. Then, after I told you, you would check it yourself, just in case I'm a brainwashed enemy agent, so if I'd tried to hide that, you would have found out."
"Why didn't you tell me!" skipper shouted, lashing out at the wall.
"That would be why," Kowalski replied, looking at the blood trickling from his leader's knuckles, "I didn't want you to…"
"Lack of information is weakness, Kowalski," Skipper stormed out of the room the living room and down the hall, "You of all people should know I don't tolerate any weakness." Skipper slammed door of his room. Kowalski could hear the man wedge a chair under the handle. He wasn't going to be coming out for a while.
June 25th 1950
"Um, K'walski, can I talk to you a moment." Private asked poking his head into the lab. Kowalski looked up from his work. The two were alone in the HQ, Skipper was at a lecture Marlene had literally dragged him to, and Rico was 'out on the town' as was usual on Saturday nights.
"Sure, what about?" Kowalski asked warily. The last time Private had 'talked to him a moment' Private had rightly, though Kowalski never admitted this, accused him of allowing X's death to increase his own monetary gain.
"It's about Skippah... About how he's been acting since he heard about Manfredi and Johnson." Private replied, his voice wavering at his dead friends' names'.
"Well, he was upset the day I told him. He locked himself in his room for three days, but he seemed fine after that."
"He's... been different." Private replied.
"I haven't noticed anything…"
"You haven't come out of the lab since then."
"Yeah... How do you think he's changed?" Kowalski asked guiltily. Private was right, he had been in the lab most of the week. He hadn't even noticed that his leader, and close friend, wasn't taking the news particularly well.
"What are you doing, Skippah?" Private asked, looking over his leader's shoulder. Immediately, Skipper stuffed the diagram he'd been working on into his blazer pocket, but Private had already had a decent look at the piece of paper, "Skippah, that looks like a plan for stealing our files from Department D?"
"No... Um... That's a plan for stealing my file from the Danish Embassy," Skipper replied.
"No Skippah, that wasn't a plan of the Danish Embassy," Private answered, an unusual note of scepticism in his voice, "Why would you want to steal our files from Uncle Nigel?"
"You never know when the higher ups might declare us a security risk. I don't know about you, but I'm not going to stand here and let them eliminate us. I need to make sure that, should we ever need to, we'd be able to disappear, even from Nigel.
"Why do you need the files?"
"Without the data in our files, they'd have a pretty hard time predicting our movements."
"Skippah, he's my Uncle Nigel! He'd never do that!"
"He might be mind controlled by a space squid..."
"Skippah, those don't even exist! I'm offended that you would even think such a thing of my uncle."
"That was yesterday, Kowalski. I asked Skipper, later of course, why he was behaving like that, and he told me it was classified."
"Hm... He does seem unusually paranoid."
"But Skippah is never paranoid," Private protested, "He's jaded, but he's not paranoid."
"I'm going to have to look in to that."
"There's more..."
Private drew a rough sketch of Cupid on the newspaper on the table in front of him, staring at it dreamily. He hadn't seen her in several years, not since the team had gone on that mission to Madagascar. Private was snapped abruptly out of his daydream when Skipper's hand slammed down on top of the newspaper. Private looked up.
"Oh sorry Skippah, I thought everyone was done with the paper," Skipper continued to look down on the lower ranking officer disapprovingly. Private took a quick glance at the newspaper checking to make sure he hadn't drawn over one of Marlene's articles, though Skipper didn't really seem to care even when he did.
Finally, Skipper spoke, "What did I tell you about getting over her, Private? You can't fall in love with the enemy."
"Cupid's not the enemy, Skippah. I thought she was a rather nice girl."
"She's Russian! Can't you see it, Private? It's all one big conspiracy!"
"Skippah, don't you think that's a bit..."
"Listen to me Private. Manfridi and Johnson, well Johnson at least, he fell for one of the enemy. She nearly had his love-struck hide over the border before I noticed anything."
"I don't remember that one." Kowalski commented, looking slightly concerned.
Private was making breakfast in the kitchen when Skipper charged into the room.
"Don't move Private!" He shouted, "You were about to flip the pancakes without using a spatula!"
"Um... Why shouldn't I?" Private asked, mentally slapping himself immediately afterward for sounding so insubordinate.
"Why shouldn't you?! Manfridi and Johnson tried to flip a pancake without a spatula, and they ended up with second degree burns when they accidentally dropped the pan on their faces!"
"Those two were incredibly accident prone." Kowalski reminisced.
"I have to agree with you there, but that's not what I mean. Skippah, he seems to be obsessed with them. I don't think that's healthy."
"No that isn't, but there isn't exactly anything we can do. I'm no psychiatrist, and we can't really call in anyone else without blowing our cover. We can't ask Nigel for one of his people because then they'd have to call off the mission..."
"I see your point. If we report this... well, it's Skipper's currently minor paranoia verses the potential safety of New York." Private bit his lip. He could think of several other reasons why Kowalski would insist that he not seek treatment, but Kowalski's excuse was reason enough, "Still, if he gets worse..."
"We'll call it in," Kowalski bit his lip, "Only if it gets worse."
*$199,ooo is approximately $2,000,000 in today's money