December 11th1950
At six o'clock in the morning, Skipper put down the morning paper that he had been reading at the breakfast table, kissed Marlene goodbye, picked up his coat and set off for the office. He'd almost gotten to the station when he realised he'd left his briefcase behind.
He was just in view of the house when he noticed Marlene leave. She normally didn't leave for the Central till eight. That in itself were somewhat suspicious, but the way she cautiously glanced up and down, was suspicious enough that Skipper ducked behind a wall, almost out of instinct. When he looked back around, he saw Marlene step out the door, carrying his old service duffle bag (officially, he'd never left), and placing his handheld semi-automatic in her coat pocket. Now if that wasn't suspicious, he didn't know what was.
In the next few hours, Marlene stopped off at several shops, and the duffle bag got bulkier and bulkier. He still had yet to find out the contents of the bag, and the shops were too general to give any clue, but when plotted on a map the various locations made almost a complete circle around Dolphin territory. It was then he once again noticed that Marlene was on the move, and he continued to follow her until she reached the last place he'd expected her to stop at.
Once again, she looked around cautiously, before knocking rapidly four times on the door. She then waited four seconds and repeated the action. The door opened, and Kowalski answered.
"I've got it. He doesn't suspect a thing." Marlene whispered, handing him the bag before entering. Skipper thought back to the last time he'd seen Hans: "Killing me won't put you in charge of the Rockhoppers, and I doubt you're in league with Kowalski." He'd made the statement quickly to prove a point, but it wasn't until now that he realised the only thing standing between Kowalski and owning New York was him, and the man had already demonstrated he was far from incorruptible.
"Good. We have to set it up quickly before he gets back." The door shut, and Skipper was left alone out in the snow. Immediately he moved around to one of the lower windows, getting a good view of what was going on inside.
Marlene removed her coat, searching about for the wooden coat stand.
"Here, I'll take that," Private offered, taking the garment and hanging it up on one of the gun racks on the wall.
"Where'd the coat stand go?" Marlene asked. Before Private could open his mouth to speak, Kowalski was already giving Marlene a full explanation.
"Well, I altered the molecular structure, and…"
"Suffice to say, we shan't be seeing it again." Doris finished before Kowalski got going. He'd been known to speak for over four hours if left to his own devices.
"Alright, so I managed to sneak the decorations in without Skipper knowing…"
"Marlene…" Kowalski began to ask, uncomfortably, "I know this was after we arranged all this, but he gave us specific instructions that we should not fall prey to the Space Squid conspiracy that is Christmas decorations."
"But Skipper isn't here, is he?" Marlene replied, a twinkle in her eye.
"K'walski does have a point Marlene," Private concurred gravely, "Asking us to disobey a senior officer is a serious offence Marlene."
"He's not my senior officer," Marlene stated, much to the annoyance of the others. This was not by far the first time she'd said that, "Anyway, since Skipper's out, I think your commanding officer's girlfriend is in charge."
"Well, technically," Kowalski began to explain, "It should be the first lieutenant…" Marlene rolled her eyes.
"I second that." Doris added, though Marlene noticed that for most of the encounter, she'd been firstly, strangely quiet, and secondly, desperately avoiding eye contact with her boyfriend.
"Just forget the rules for once, Kowalski." Marlene sighed.
"I was going to say:" Kowalski continued somewhat disgruntled, "and I'm quite certain he has no objections."
"If it sooths your ego, pal." Marlene muttered.
January 4th1951
Doris' suitcase seemed to be made of lead as she approached the door to Kowalski's apartment. She'd never been there during the day, and probably never would again. She was dressed in a modest travelling suit, one of her own, not one Kowalski had bought her, her blond hair unusually disorderly. She carried a new leather suitcase, devoid of any stickers noting places of travel, carrying only necessities. She wanted to take as little baggage as possible. The more she took, the more memories came with it.
"Hello Doris," Kowalski greeted, opening the door, slightly surprised that she had turned up at the apartment. That was when he noticed her expression, "Doris? What's wrong?" Doris remained in the doorway. She had been getting more and more depressed the last couple of days. He honestly couldn't fathom why.
"I'm leaving." Doris replied dully. Kowalski could see her eyes were red and her make-up smudged. She'd been crying.
"Doris...!?"
"I can't take it anymore... I just can't..."
"Doris..." Kowalski couldn't believe what was happening, "If Blowhole's found out..."
"No, it's not that. I'll continue to tell you what he's up to, but..." Doris looked down at her feet. It was now or never, "Kowalski… I fell in love," Doris choked, "… with a young agent…"
"Doris…"
"He was tall, handsome, and smart. He had quite the career ahead of him too. You'd probably like him…"
"I…" Kowalski didn't know if he should be enraged or in tears. She'd found another guy. Another guy, "I…"
"You never were very good at feelings," Doris chuckled, smiling as best she could through her tears, "You've completely misunderstood what I'm saying."
"I don't…"
"Just listen," a tear trickled down her cheek smudging her mascara, "I've never loved anyone quite like I loved him. I even wanted to get married," Doris looked down at the suitcase in her hands, "Then one day he left on a mission," her eyes returned to Kowalski, "and I waited. I waited for years. Then I realised… I realised…" Doris paused, dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief, "He wasn't coming back."
"I'm… I'm sorry." Kowalski stuttered, noting the past tense.
"No, silly," Doris moved a stray strand of hair from her face, "he was you, Kowalski."
"I don't understand…"
"That young man I met in Munich in 1943 isn't you anymore. I don't know what happened to that young man, whether he's still hiding somewhere or… or if he's gone, but I can't keep waiting for him. I need to move on."
"I haven't changed Doris," Kowalski pleaded as the situation dawned on him, "It's all just an act. It's just a mission. It'll be over in a year, and then we can go back to Munich… We can get married and…"
"It's not a mission Kowalski. It's become something else. Something that scares me. You scare me," Doris continued, "I think it was when I realised that I hadn't said this because I feared for my life, or maybe when I saw the way that you look at any other man who looks at me. I… Goodbye Kowalski."
Kowalski stared at the suitcase in her hands.
"I..."
"I know you could have me followed or…" Doris swallowed, displaying the aforementioned fear on her face, "Don't try and stop me," then she seemed to recover, standing a few inches taller than the slumped form before, "I'll send Skipper a telegram every week detailing Blowhole's movements. I will do this purely out of duty; my father needs to be captured before he hurts anyone else," Doris opened the door to the taxi, "Don't try and contact me at the telegram's address, a friend will be forwarding them to you."
"Doris... Don't..."
"Goodbye Kowalski." Doris walked out onto the sidewalk, towards a waiting taxi, opening the door. Then she turned around, a look of pure desperation on her face, "You could quit the team," she pleaded, "we could run away together… we could get married…" Doris didn't finish her sentence. She knew what Kowalski was going to say before he even said it.
"I can't."
Kowalski had expected her to be furious at the answer, but all she did was nod. She was expecting that. She stepped into the cab and shut the door. Kowalski watched as it drove off towards the train station.
Kowalski entered the office building the team had purchased under the shell corporation 'Consolidated Amalgamated Steel': the team's public headquarters, his shoulders slumped, his expression resembling that of one who had lost everything. His second in command, Henrietta Blue was waiting for him. She was dressed in a blue tailored suit, her black hair, the same colour as her suit in the right lighting, pinned up, not a strand out of place.
"Information teams report Miss Blowhole at the train station. You seem unusually depressed. From that I can only conclude that she has left you," Miss Blue deduced emotionlessly. Kowalski said nothing, sitting down at his desk with a sigh, "Do you want me to track her down, sir?" For a few moments, nothing was said.
"No." Kowalski replied, leaning back in his chair, staring at the ceiling; anything to avoid eye contact.
"Mr Kowalski," Henrietta's eyes were expressionless as usual beneath her cat's eye glasses, "She knows enough about our operations to compromise us. She is a potential threat."
"No..." Kowalski hazarded a glance at Miss Blue, "She has valuable information on Blowhole." Both Kowalski and Miss Blue knew this was an excuse, but Kowalski was the boss. Kowalski, when later questioned by Skipper would reply that he honestly didn't know why he spared her, but he knew, though he wouldn't admit it, even to himself, he let her go, because she was right.
