Disclaimer: I do not own Darkwing Duck™ or any character, location or event from that said show.
Last time on The Duck Knight Returns
- The Fearsome Five are free.
…
The Duck Knight Returns
Ch 7. The Murderer's Speech
It was always dark on the lot at night despite the abundance of security lighting. The high walls surrounding the compound created an imposing fortress. Security personnel manned the entrances. Patrols randomly and regularly swept the large warehouses. Millions of dollars' worth of equipment, industry secrets and high profile targets had to be protected. All of which made this place, by the thinking of a perverse mind, the perfect hide out and base of operations for a strike on the city.
All one needed was the proper means to enter and exit undetected. How better to enter the lot and movie studios of Webber Bros than in a stylish stretch limo posing as a disgusting wealthy and vain movie executive? Painted to depict a summer paradise and loaded with all the extras. ALL the extras such as an extravagant spa pool on the roof.
As extremely difficult as the task must have been the expert driver manoeuvred the unwieldy vehicle in line with guard booth. Paying no mind the tail end still impeded traffic on the road. The gate keeper knocked first on the blacked out window of the driver. Power window motors whirred. He only let it down a fraction so the keeper may witness his head jerk toward the rear. Indicating he should talk with the grand high passenger.
Who, unlike his driver, was good enough to wind his window the full length down and engage in jovial chat. "Evening Frank, how's Lily? You said she took a tumble."
"Good evening Mr Herb," Frank observed the well-lit interior of the limo. Movie Producer Mr Herb and his two associates dressed in the finest European suits. "Lily's fine, she can't wait to be back on her bike once the cast comes off. It's my nerves that are shot. "
"Kids. They're irrepressible. I have one just like her. Well – had one." He'd told the story before of how they were separated. Leaving out that it had been by inter-dimensional space-time.
"May I ask why you're here at this hour?"
"Meet Pelican," Herb, a.k.a. Negaduck, waved Quackerjack to sidle over for the guard to evaluate. "I came in to the office to get him signed before those jerks at Disney headhunt him. Give Frank a smile will you?"
Frank laughed when he did. "He's perfect, sir."
Granted access, the driver snaked his way through the lot to Negaduck's warehouse. He needed no instructions which route to take. Mr Negaduck had been preparing this for some time via proxy.
He pulled up alongside their destination and moved swiftly to open the car door for his charges. A lowly, uncultured villain such as Bushroot had no conception of the niceties henchmen afforded and let himself out from the front passenger side where he had been hidden from view. Negaduck had no time for the niceties and allowed himself out also, followed by his suit wearing companions Quackerjack and Megavolt. All the driver might do was hold the door for them and close it once they were clear.
He was able to aid Liquidator, removing the cover to the spa pool from which the slippery character had hidden.
"Eggman," Negaduck reflected it was odd to refer to them as such without their distinct helmets, "Stay here. Treat yourself to a spa and refreshments. We may be a while."
It would be interesting study to see if he would. F.O.W.L. indoctrination tended to drive personality from their grunts to balance the abundance of personality found in their agents. He could be certain Steelbeak never offered to share his comforts with his men.
He entreated his newly freed companions to follow him inside the warehouse, unlocking the set door with a micro chipped card. It was pitch black inside. The space had been completely shielded from outside light – or snooping eyes. Negs hit a bank of switches next to the door, turning on a few light bulbs, but the shadows would not be chased away until Negs hit the circuit breakers for the flood lights.
"Welcome home boys. Like coming home to a slice of paradise."
He threw the primary switch.
Sand, surf and tropical palm trees. Spacious huts built of driftwood and palm leaves were blended in to the foliage. On the beach a smoldering camp fire was ringed by deck chairs and drift logs. The artificial environment could have used strummed aloha music to set the atmosphere which, by the way, lacked the humidity and glorious warmth of the Caribbean. This chilly warehouse in the middle of St Canard still suffered from, well, the chill of being a warehouse during a St Canard night. It tarnished the magic somewhat.
Four monsters left to rot in a dark hole. Left to the mercy of probing scientists with their experiments and the knowledge they drove away anyone in the world who might have cared enough to save them…. The flood lights were still warming above, becoming brighter and casting greater illumination every minute. Four monsters approached the set and stood on the sands of paradise. Basking in the rising dawn of a brand new day.
"What is this place?" Reggie asked. He moved further up the beach and stooped to examine the plant life. Real plants in real soil, not fake.
Negaduck answered, superbly pleased with his cunning. "Welcome to Pelican's Island: The Movie," throwing over a copy of the script. It was Liquidator who caught the document (the others winced as the paper document became soggy in his watery hands) and began reading it allowed.
"Pelican's Island. Directed by Articus Tuskernini. Produced by Herb Muddlefoot – I assume that would be you. Why'd you choose such a goofy name, sounds more appropriate to a door to door Quackerware salesman?"
"You assume correctly and, believe me, the name is poetically applicable."
Quackerjack played in the sand, building a sand castle. Megavolt inspected the lighting. "This isn't the usual Negaduck hideaway," Sparky observed.
"Yeah. I'm going to use the 'usual' Negaduck hideaway after breaking you guys out of worst nightmare S.H.U.S.H. has buried. Besides, you haven't seen the other sound stage. You see the script…," he motioned to Liquidator to pass it back and started flicking pages. Or tried too. The soggy pages stuck together so he sighed and recited the text from memory.
"The script calls for our marooned heroes to be unaware the island is already home to a band of ruthless pirates operating out of an abandoned cold war monitoring station dug into the side of the active volcano on the far side of the island. In my capacity as producer of a major production and primary bankroller, with the support of my director, I demanded every effort be taken to create the illusion of reality. Taking a personal hand in the construction of a fully equipped pirate cave lair complete with working plumbing and gas appliances, functional communications suite, adequate sleeping area for a dozen men and authentic pirate arsenal. No rubber AK-47s for my production. We're in the show business now, gentlemen.
"The studio is in panic thanks to Tuskernini's high strung demands, high actor turnover, constant script adjustments; the production is currently mantle deep in development hell. Leaving these sets largely deserted. If the security patrols or a member of crew finds a reason to intrude each of you will have fake credentials and a bogus job. You will not bring investigation down on our heads by using your powers or harming an employee of the studio," Negaduck was clear on the point. "Gentlemen, this is our base of operations from where we will strike at S.H.U.S.H. and they will not see us coming."
"Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale,
A tale of a fateful flight.
From a desert hell to tormentor's door,
To share our miserable blight!"
Negaduck had not intended for his evil dedication to be underpinned by a sing-along number. No power in the multi-verse might cause Liquidator to shut up and quit with the TV puns. This 'Pelican's Island' theme sing-along would have to be tolerated with gritted teeth and eyes like daggers directed at the others. Signalling not to encourage him or face punishment.
Liqi moved amongst his companions. Darting up to them. Skating on the slippery soles of his paws.
"With Pelican...,
He declared Quackerjack to be Pelican. Humouring himself at the crazed jester's expense with a wet willy finger in his ear.
"... his mouth piece too!"
"Hey!" Megavolt figured Liqi referred to him as the 'mouth piece' and did not like it. At least Liqi did not touch him, there'd be consequences for both adding water to an electric current.
"The murderer and his knife."
Negaduck did try to knife the fiend when he attempted to straddle up to him. Liqi jerked back in an unnecessary reflective jolt. The slash connected shallowly across his midsection made of liquid. No harm done. Nevertheless there was an implied threat. Try to touch Negaduck – bad idea.
"The stylish, sophisticated handsome, adorable movie star." Himself of course.
"The professor of roses and..."
"I get the idea." Reggie waved the wet dog away with his palm.
"Computers, assault rifles, limousines;
Every luxury!
Like the Ben Linus of Lost,
As vindictive as can be!"
Negaduck growled. "You done?"
"Three more verses."
...
The crates were marked Pelican's Island productions. Fragile. Negaduck dug his crow bar in deep and levered the closet crate open.
"These components we liberated from Wonderland during the prison break. Difficult to replicate, vital components of the dimensional portal we destroyed, S.H.U.S.H. unofficially terms 'the Negagate."
From the crate, Negs picked up a design book and held it out for Quackerjack. "I also have crude blueprints and equations drawn up by Quackerjack - Quackerjack of the Negaverse - which only you could be crazy enough to follow."
Quackerjack took the book offered, flicking through it. "Look! If you flick the pages like this it's an animation of a little bunny cooking carrot stew for his friends!"
Each of the Fearsome Five, minus Negs, stuck his nose over Quackerjack's shoulder. "Do the other side!" Bushroot suggested.
"It's Mr Banana Brain! Oh, he found a girl Banana Brain!"
Negs snatched the book away. "Breathing exercises. Breathing exercises. Like Gosalyn showed you. Kill them and no Negagate," he muttered this under his breath.
"Alright. It falls to the pair of you, Quackerjack and Megavolt, to recreate an operational Negagate here. In this universe. On this lot. And sync it with gate we control in the Negaverse. This is your principle priority. Purchase, pirate, pilfer, produce, plagiarise, replicate every product you postulate the probability you'll require. And keep me appraised."
"I perceive the picture," Quackerjack pandered.
"Bushroot, Liquidator and I will have the dull task of distracting the unfortunately not so dim-witted authorities. To that end, allow me to unveil our first target." The Pelican's island set was ringed with computer monitors for the recording of a movie. Negaduck had pre-installed the operational details of the next step of his plan. Images, details and stats of the target appeared on every screen.
"Not him!" and other choice words were uttered.
"Yes. Him."
The basics elements of his plot Negaduck ran through. As this operation was ultimately to divert attention from Quackerjack's more important project they did not have to eliminate the target and could break off when the fighting got rough. It was sure to get rough. The downside - they needed this to be an attention grabbing event.
"This bozo is of no threat to us. I know his family life. I can get close enough to put a shiv in his ribs any time. Probably will. But that doesn't get us the publicity we need. Bushroot, a question?"
Negs noted Bushroot held a leafy palm raised.
"Could you call me Reginald? Or Reggie?"
"Codenames only during operations. Was that all?"
"What if - wedon'twanttobesupervillainsanymore?!"
Quackerjack and Megavolt tensed. Liquidator's circulation slowed to the verge of freezing, in danger of changing from a liquid to a solid. He wasn't aware he could voluntarily do that!
Negaduck was expressionless. "Come again?"
"I felt one of the others may be too shy to ask…."
Negaduck approached Reggie. Reggie shrank before him. His leaves curled. His flower wilted. "Would you mind repeating your query? Inter-dimensional travel makes you hard on hearing."
"What - if – some - one," Reggie dragged his feet, sounding out every syllable. Staving off execution, "in - this – room – maybe – possibly…"
Negaduck led him on. "Maybe, possibly doesn't want to be a super…?"
"… doesn't - want - to - hurt people anymore?" Reggie ended his query and his life.
The others shrunk from Lord Negaduck. Blasphemy had been spoken. Hurting people was his creed. Reggie was a person. Reggie would hurt a lot before his corpse were fed through final mulcher.
Rather than explode, when Negaduck did speak he endeavored to sound charismatic and reasonable. Drawing the judgment and sentencing phase out. Allowing the dread anticipation build before he cut the rope and let the guillotine slice Reggie.
"Would anyone else in the group like to share? Does anyone else feel this way? Does anyone else not want to be a super villain anymore?"
Quackerjack's hand shot out at viper speed to intercept Megavolt's slowly rising palm. The jester understood this was no laughing matter.
"You want to leave, tree? Pull up roots?" Negs circled his prey. "Why?"
"Dr Swan said it would be healthy for me. Help me to develop stable relationships."
"He did?" Mock surprise. "Doesn't he like your friends you have already?" Negaduck pouted. "Which Dr Swan would this be?"
"My psychiatrist."
"When was the last time you met with Dr Swan?"
"A year…? The week before they moved me to the room with no light."
"In that time did you request an appointment? Was help ever offered?
When Reggie would not answer Negaduck asked him, "How many times a week did they come to take a cutting from you?"
(Gulp) "Lots. In the first month."
"Megavolt! Perhaps you can share with us a flash of insight? Time to turn the lights out on crime? Has the spark of retribution hit an insulated wall?"
Megavolt considered his answer. "I don't want to go back."
"Tell Bushroot... ahem, apologies. Reggie why you don't want to go back."
"They wanted to see how much charge I could hold. Charge me to capacity and drain me. Charge to capacity and drain me over and over for days. Then one thought maybe I have magnetic abilities too so they tested them. But I couldn't and they beat me to be sure I was telling the truth. Then they forgot about me. Left me in lock up with no electrical wiring. They left me a single light bulb so I could light my own cell."
"Liquidator. For the prize?"
"They kept me in a bowl. Under pressure. Some days they would try to evaporate me. On others freeze me. I realised one day they were unsure how to kill me."
"They let me play with toys all day," Quackerjack told his story. Using Megavolt as a mouthpiece he added. "But then they took away Mr Banana Brain and I didn't want to play anymore."
"Ah, cold hands!" Megavolt was not amused. "You have to find something else to stick your arm up."
"You!" Negaduck stormed over to Quackerjack. Yelling like the duck they knew and feared. Megavolt fled. "I'm not even sure you comprehend what's going on!
"So let me enlighten you, gentlemen," he stepped over to Megavolt and placed his index feather against Megavolts yellow overalls. The rat quivered. "I did not break open the most secure facility in the world for the sake of a crime wave! I think I've proven I can rob any bank I wish without you! I broke you out because I plan to put the hurt on Hooter and thought you might appreciate an opportunity to stick the knife in. And it's not about who wants to be a criminal. Because you are a criminal – when the term is defined by Director J. Gander Hooter."
Negs left Megavolt alone and shifted his attention to Reggie. "Trapped in a hole with no light for more than a year. Denied all rights. You still can't tell who the real bad guys are? You don't want to be a criminal anymore? Well think about this. The population of my world were unilaterally classed as criminal. How can anyone be a criminal when we're all criminals?
"You want to walk out that door, I won't stop you. One time deal, kids. No dagger in the back. I'll give you the damn driver! If you stay, be ready for war because we're going to burn S.H.U.S.H. to the ground. Scorched earth."
Negaduck left them to consider in private whether they might stay or go. Something unprecedented had just occurred. The Fearsome Five witnessed an event which shook them. The laws of the universe which they trusted to be correct were now sliding. It was difficult to process what it meant. He forgot to kill Bushroot!
"Reginald," Negaduck reappeared in the mouth of cave. "Would you kindly step into my office?"
Never mind.
…
There was no window for Negaduck stare out; his office was located within a movie set cave. So he stood easy, hands clasped behind his back, studying a cork message board pinned with photos and details of each of his targets. In the centre, a bulls-eyes outline over his balding forehead with a thick blue whiteboard marker, pride of place was Director Hooter.
"I hope you believe me, Reggie, when I say J. Gander Hooter has a reach which extends across intergalactic dimensions. He opened the gate between our worlds to apprehend me. You are no more than a statistic on a list of victims. The suffering the man has wrought…," Negaduck sounded wistful. Is he jealous, Reggie wondered?
Noting Reggie remained close to an open exit, Negaduck said, "Close the door. Take a seat."
"I'll…."
"Not a suggestion."
Reggie took the seat. Negaduck took the far more comfortable looking one behind his desk and pulled it round. Creating a more casual atmosphere for victim and murderer.
"So… You want to turn your life around?" If there was a way to answer which would not get his throat slit, Reggie did not know it. He said nothing.
"I'm impressed," Negaduck congratulated the root, "I admit it Reggie, I always thought you a coward. But it takes guts to turn your life around. And it takes guts to say no to me! Unless this is a suicide by Negaduck attempt."
"You're smiling…?" Indeed Negaduck was smiling. He wasn't even holding a chainsaw to a fluffy bunny! Hiding his wrath behind a mask of pleasantness? Perhaps. The Negaduck Reggie knew was an open book of rage. He didn't need to hide his feeling from anyone. Did this new development make him more dangerous if he could give no sign when he was ready to kill?
Negs snorted. "I guess I am." And sighed. "I'm not mad, Reggie. No, I am mad!" he corrected. "You chose now to have a change of heart on villainy, you inconsiderate bastard!" The words sounded right. Closer to conventional Negaduck all fear and cower before.
"Ultimately, your options have not changed. If you turn yourself over to the cops and play at being a good little convict S.H.U.S.H. will throw you in another lightless hole. You can bet it will be one where I will never find you. You could run. They'd never find you in the Amazon rain forest, Reggie. Until Hooter burns it all down. I can guarantee Hooter will never stop hunting you. You will have to live with the knowledge you can never go back. Not ever knowing why."
"You could tell me why," Reggie pointed out.
"Oh, right. He wants to learn your secrets to kill Nega-Bushoot. You mind? I'm making a dramatic speech with sinister undertones here!"
"Sorry."
"You think this is easy? It's not. Have you ever strung together a villainous monologue like this without cue cards? I should get an Oscar for this!"
"Sorry."
Negs began again with his gravely, dramatic voice. "Nor do I have options. I'm fighting a guerrilla war across a multi-verse! I need an army! I need allies…!" Dramatic pause and… now we're serious.
"In ten years I must have worked alongside all my most hated enemies. Saved them even! Suffered indignities to earn their trust. Tarnished my integrity. You know, saving little children and puppies. Letting their parasitic belief systems crawl under my skin to wriggle beneath the surface."
"That's really gross."
"Shut up - but if you think the core of Negaduck has softened you're dead wrong. I still cling to that highest ideal of mankind – revenge. I've bleed for my revenge. I've sacrificed for my revenge. I have and will continue to do all that is necessary. I can work with you. I can use you as a tool of my revenge. So you can't hurt people? Let's start with what you can do for me."
Bushroot decided this was his cue to talk up his resume. "Most people don't know this, but I'm very good with robotics. I once tried to steal Darkwing Duck's gas gun by – well, I was spying on the house and overheard the little girl had a science project playing heavy metal to plants. And I thought, that's my ticket in! I built these cyborg pot plants to search…."
Negs slammed his fist against his desk. "I know the story!" The tale wound to a halt. Negaduck was no longer smiling. He looked closer to how Reggie remember him. Feathers on edge. Eyes red. Teeth like a Rottweiler.
Negaduck stood, knocking over his chair. Pacing the carpet. "Can't you take this seriously?" A glance at Reggie. "No, of course you can't."
"I was serious…," about his skill with robotics.
"No you're not. You're – you! Now I was - am - serious when I say I'm glad you don't want to hurt anyone anymore. I need someone to be my second. To carry out orders that will not seem to make sense. Orders never to be talked about. Liquidator can't be trusted; he's ready to go on a rampage. Drown every authority figure he sees. He is no more than a tool now. Our F.O.W.L. allies are not to be trusted. As for Quackerjack and Megavolt, they have screws loose. I thought you could be the man for job but if you want to out…."
Reggie let the statement hang in the air. Resisting the urge to say something, something un-serious, to break the tension. Bushroot the lonely super villain would have asked if this made them friends now. Reggie the scientist analysed and wanted answers.
"Do you want out? There's the d…."
"I'm still sitting here aren't I?" Reggie dared to interrupt Lord Negaduck. After all, let's be serious. He was a dead duck/root either way. "Fine, let's be serious. Allow me to think."
Negaduck obliged. He was not happy. He paced some more. Allowing Reggie to think through to a clear decision.
"I want out," Reggie decided. "I'm stuck in a trap because S.H.U.S.H. won't let me out. I don't want to go back in the same hole. What do you want this tool to do?"
"Not so fast. I have to be absolutely sure I can trust you. Fully in. No backing out."
"Out of the two of us, I should be having trust issues. And I'm not committing blindly to any demand. If it doesn't sit with my conscience, I'm walking."
A risky gambit, making demands. It was an all or nothing. Negaduck would kill him now or he would not. Negaduck had said he respected Reggie for standing up to him. He knew Negaduck could see him tremble uncontrollably. He would think he could push Reggie. Underneath the betrayal of his shaky limbs was tree trunk strong resolve. He survived S.H.U.S.H. after all. If he buckled now he would be a slave.
Negaduck did not push. "You know what I'm ultimately planning; you'll have to decide sooner or later if you can square it with your conscience. But I still need to know with absolute certainty that iron resolve you think you have before me won't buckle. So first, a test. You're first assignment. Liquidator…."
Negaduck righted the seat he had knocked over and huddled close for conspiracy. He could have shouted it; he had designed this room soundproof among other things. But some things were better said in hushed tones.
Once Negaduck had outlined Reggie's assignment he stood, passed his board of targets and headed for the door. Best to check up on the other three quarters of the moron squad.
Before Negaduck had left the room - this was something that could only be spoken of in this room and even then - Reggie had the presence of mind to ask, "Why would you ask this of me?"
"Because you killed two men."
...
