"Alright, Maxwell, give me the time."

"2001, Commander, sir."

"What's the status on the Atlantic Border?"

"Unchanged. Everything's secure. All patrollers still on duty. No suspicious activity witnessed."

The old Commander and one of his lieutenants walked briskly down the dark isle leading to his office as they spoke. He saved his most important question for last, immediately upon reaching the door.

"Have the DNA tests from yesterday evening come in yet?"

"I met up with Professor Hark about an hour ago and he told me everything. The DNA comparison was finalized at about 1800."

"And the results?"

"It was a match. That was Jugembulam's blood on the owl's talons."

"So it is true. She's one of us, after all."

Scott didn't show it, but he was very glad to hear that Ginger was an enemy of the Shredders as much as they were.

"And, what about the spruce tree? Any word from her supposed parents yet?"

"I got word from lieutenants Sam and David last night at approximately 2140. They found a tree matching Ms. Ginger's description, but it was vacant when they arrived. They reported a nest being in there, one lined with plenty of down feathers, might I add. But no owls. They've been staying in the area to see if anyone decides to show up so they can get on with the questioning."

The old Commander nodded.

"Oh! And one more thing!"

Maxwell handed the commander a black box, large enough for an eaglet to fit inside.

"What's this?"

"The mask and claws. I didn't know if you would want to give them back to that owl, but-"

"No, no, she can have them back," Scott said while taking the box from his wings. "Not until I get back to my nest later though."

"Yes, sir."

"Alright. I've got my own business to attend to, so you head back out and resume your guard duty. Alert me if you get any word of the owls returning to their hollow."

"Yes, sir," the lieutenant responded as he dashed back down the hall and toward the main exit. Once he was out of sight, Commander Scott unlocked the door to his office and fluttered to the perch in front of his desk, placing the box containing the mask and battleclaws inside one of its drawers. After they had been hidden away, he began to sort out some of the disorganized paper documents covering the majority of his desk. An hour or so passed, and by the time he was about finished getting everything reorganized, he heard one of his troops call him from outside.

"Permission to enter, Commander! It's urgent!"

"Who is it?"

"David Comess!"

"You're back? Maxwell told me you were still in Chatham about an hour ago. I assume that now you've returned, you've found something worth my time."

"Yes, sir! We've found one of the Barn Owls matching the description you gave us!"

Upon hearing the news, the eagle sprang from his perch and was at the door within three seconds flat. He opened it, and there stood his lieutenant standing beside what looked like a very washed up owl.

"Oh, thank the heavens I came across you," he gasped as he took the eagle by the wing and shook it humbly. He was nearly on the verge of collapsing. "I've been trying to find help for two days!"

"Are you Mr. Ethan Wingren?" Scott questioned, taking note the name Ginger gave him.

"Yes, yes I am. And I'm here to file two Missing Bird Reports!"

"Missing Bird reports?"

"My wife and daughter. They've vanished!"

"You mean Nutmeg and...wait...Did you just say daughter?"

"Yes, yes!" he wailed plaintively, tears forming in the corners of his rusty brown eyes. "I went out to hunt just a couple days ago, and Nutmeg stayed in the nest with little Emily. I was only gone for about half an hour, but when I got back, they were both gone!"

Emily? That's not among the names she gave me...

"Have you any idea where they might have went?" the eagle questioned.

"No note, no blood, nothing. But I suspect foul play, nonetheless. Nutmeg and I have been married for years, and there's no way she would go off somewhere without telling me, much less with our chick!"

"This Emily. Is she a new child of yours?"

"Fairly new. She just turned three about a month ago...Say, how do you know all of our names right off the bat?"

"We have ways of knowing. It's important to gather intel regarding the names of birds in the area," he responded, being careful not to mention Ginger's name, as she had requested. "I know you said there was no blood at the scene, but is there anything that supports your thought that something suspicious occurred during your absence?"

"I did find this."

The Barn Owl held up a blackish-brown feather, presumably a covert from a wing, in his talons for Scott to see. It immediately set off numerous alarms in the eagle's head, and his eyes widened.

"I don't know who or what kind of bird it belongs to, but it can't be a crow. Not dark or sleek enough. Maybe it-"

"Give me that," the eagle ordered as he snatched the feather from his claws. "David, take this to Professor Hark. I want him to run another DNA analysis."

"Do you think it could be...him?"

"I'm almost certain." He handed the feather to him. "Go. Now. No time to waste!"

"Sir, yes, sir!" With a salute, his lieutenant left the office hastily, leaving Ethan there with him.

"Who's 'him?'" Ethan asked shakily, afraid to find out what kind of monster could have possibly made away his family.

"It's best you don't know. Not yet, that is," Scott responded. "In the meantime, you're going to have to stay here in case we need you to tell us anything else. I'll send out a tracking squadron and see if we can locate your family's whereabouts."

"Will you be able to find them?"

"I promise you that we will do everything within our power to do so."

The distress in the Barn Owl's eyes was eased by a small glimmer of hope.

"Ms. Mattie! Report to Main Office immediately!" He called to the nurse through the speaker, to which she came running.

"Yes, sir?"

"This is Mr. Ethan Wingren. Supposedly, the Shredders took his family. Take him to the interrogation room and ease him up a bit, if you can. Later, we're going to see if he knows anything else related to our case."

"Yes, sir," she nodded as she took Ethan by the wing.

"Come with me, Mr. Wingren. It's going to be alright."

Though he heavily doubted it would be so, the owl nodded and followed her lead. The Commander shut the door and tore at the faded white feathers on his head.

"Jugemulam, you steaming son of a..." He hissed the swear through an angrily clenched beak. "I swear if it's the last thing I do, I'll make sure you pay for all the lives you took with your own! You're gonna burn for all of it! YOU'RE GONNA BURN!"

...

"Gyeong,"a harrier inquired his higher up with a humble tip of the head. "Are you not afraid that we may be sought out by the enemy in a place so close to theirs?"

"Why do you ask such a ludicrous thing?" The kite's eyes narrowed. "Is this rebellion I sense?"

"No, no, mighty gyeong," The harrier dipped his head even lower, showing his humility. "I am concerned, that is all. Is it safe to keep the captives such a short distance from the location of the enemy? They are spreading further quickly. They may soon be upon us."

"What do you think your training was for? They come here, we lower their numbers, thus weakening them."

"What shall we do with those in the underground? Have they not suffered long enough? Some have been here for years, and they resist. They will not join the cause."

"Well, if that is the case, we shall put an end to all of them. If they resist, they shall pay. This land has made them fools. And fools must die!"

"Yes, mighty gyeong." The harrier dipped his head even further, so that the tip of his beak touched the ground. "When shall we kill?"

"Daybreak. Tomorrow."

"What of the young?"

"They resist now, they resist forever. They shall die with the fools who brought them into this world."

"Yes. Absolutely."

"Now, check the underground. Offer them a cause one last time, and make sure none have taken their life already."

"Yes, mighty gyeong. Right away."

The harrier departed to the outside, then lifted the grass-covered hole next to their gate, which lead to the underground bunker. He lifted the cover, then climbed the ladder down to the chamber. Some of them had been hidden for years, while others had only arrived within the past few days. He didn't care. Nobody else did. If they wouldn't cave, there was no reason to keep them alive. They would eradicate every bird in the nation if they had to in order to make them wise enough to listen to them. They were only a stain upon their world, anyway. When he reached the base, he was met with a screeching fury of imprisoned birds. They were all different species; some hawks, some eagles, some owls, they were all mixed. And soon, they would all be silenced forever.

"CHIMMUG!"

The screeching ceased in an instant. The harrier paced down the hall, cages on either side of him. Some of them shrank back in fear, others shot him glares.

"Now," he drawled in an oozy voice. "You all have one last chance. Who will take up arms? Learn the truth? Join us in our quest to destroy this evil nation?"

"You certainly are a presumptuous bird, aren't you?"

He shot a look at the prisoner who dared to have made the remark. She was a more recent captive, a Barn Owl. She and her chick had only been imprisoned for a couple of days. It was an easy catch; she and the young one were alone in their hollow, and they had thought that the hatchling could be molded easily to match their customs. However, she proved to be just as resistant as her mother.

"Say it again," the harrier menaced as he neared her cage. "Say it again, and see what happens."

"I'll say it again, and I'll say it a thousand times if I have to. I don't know who you winged rats think you are, but I can assure you that you aren't going to get away with any of this. Someone will sniff you out. And when they do, they will destroy you all. And I hope that you suffer through a long, painful death."

The harrier's rage built with every word that escaped her beak, to the point that once she was finished, he let out a livid squawk.

"You believe I am the rat?" he said, pressing his face against the cage. "Why don't you look at yourself! And even more so, you're spawn!"

Then there was a flash of white, and the harrier let out an earsplitting scream of pain as he struggled to detach himself from the bars. All of the other prisoners stared in amazement as he fell to the floor, covering his left eye with his wing. They all turned to the owl. Her beak, slightly bloodied, was a clear indicator of what had just occurred.

"Tomorrow morning," the harrier said, breathing heavily. "You will all meet your end."

He made his way back towards the ladder, then, as he grabbed hold of it, he turned toward them once more.

"And it will be a long, painful death for all of you."

He climbed up and out of sight. The Barn Owl turned to her chick.

"Don't let any of what that dirtball said go to your head, Emily. He has no idea what we're capable of."

"Are..." the hatchling asked shakily. "Are we gonna be okay?"

Her mother hesitated to respond. She didn't want to lie to her chick, but she figured it was best to keep her spirits up.

"I can't say for sure. But listen to me. No matter what happens, you mustn't be afraid. No matter what he says he will do, I will guard you with everything I have. And if, by any chance, I don't make it out of this place alive, I'll make sure you do."

"But what if you can't come with me?" Tears rolled down the chick's facial disc, and her mother wiped them away with a feather.

"I will always be with you. Even if you can't see me, just remember that I will always be watching over you; protecting you."

"You've got some guts, owl."

The mother raised her head to see who had spoken. Almost directly across from her, on the other side of the small prison area, was a Bald Eagle, who had a chick of her own beside her.

"I gotta give it to you. Not a lot of birds stand up to the Shredders. And the ones that do are usually taken out immediately afterward. I guess you kind a got lucky this time, considering the situation, but still. You're not one to be messed with."

"Augh," Nutmeg wasn't sure whether to feel better or worse about the compliment. "Th-thank you, I..."

"Yeah, I know, it looks pretty grim. But it's always best to keep your beak up, you know?"

"I...I guess you're right." She took a better look at the eagle. Despite her surprisingly positive attitude, she looked as thin as a branch, and the dark circles under her eyes made her look much more aged than she probably actually was. She had a hatchling, so she couldn't possibly be all that old.

"Erm...so...How long have you been here, ma'am?"

"A few years. Yeah, I know what you're thinking. They don't feed us a lot here, that's for sure. They try to tempt us with food sometimes, sayin' that they'll fatten us up if we join them. But I don't believe them for a second. Most of their troops are still underfed. I've seen a number of them come in here over the past few years. A lot of the birds held here don't even make it to execution day, anyway. They usually die of starvation, give in and join those...well, 'dirtballs' as you said, or just commit hara-kiri to save themselves from the suffering. Just goes to show you how cowardly some birds are, am I right?"

"Y-yes. I suppose you are."

"You beat up those butt birds," the eaglet piped up. She appeared to be a few years older than her owlet, and she was in just as bad condition as her mother.

"What's your chick's name?"

"Oh, this is Bethany. She and I were brought here together. Now, I'm willing to bet that you're wondering how we managed to survive the Shredders for this long."

This eagle is amazing. It's almost as though she can read my mind!

"Well, if I had to guess, I'd say it had something to do with the fact that their leader had a bad beef with my husband. Scott was the head of the A.F.F. That stands for American Feathered Force, in case you didn't know. He was always fighting against the Shredders. Don't know how they ever made it to our country, but they did, and here they are, wreaking havoc everywhere they go. Scott and Jugembulam were pretty much arch-enemies, I guess you could say. Jugembulam was always tryin' to take over the land and kill everybody that wouldn't join him, and Scott was doing everything to prevent all that. So one night, the former decided it would be a good idea to make off with the American war hero's family, guess for revenge, and here we are. That skeeve Jugembulam probably either wants to make us suffer just to break his poor heart even more, or he was trying to make us convert, so he can show my husband that we 'betrayed him,' or something like that. He doesn't know it, but my daughter and I are quite a few steps ahead of him as far as brains go. I'd be willing to rise up against the Shredders right now, but I haven't got half the strength I had when we first came here. And even if I did, I doubt we could ever manage to get out of these cages. These padlocks ain't goin' nowhere, and the last time I tried to pick one with a feather, it wouldn't even so much as budge. And I doubt that anyone is going to come rescue us at this point, sorry to say."

"Well, I'm sure that there's at least someone out there who is trying to find us. And...even if they're too late...They'll give these Shredders what they deserve in the end. I'm sure of it! Do you think your husband is still looking for you?"

"Sweetie, I ain't even sure if he's alive still. He could have been taken out by the Shredders too, by now. But if he is out there, I hope he does us all a favor and slaughter that Jugembulam, so that everyone he ever did away with would finally be avenged."

The Barn Owl nodded.

"These Shredders really are a serious business, aren't they?"

"That they are. Good thing they aren't very bright."

"Ha! Yes. What did you say your name was, again, ma'am?"

"Name's Skye. Yours?"

"Nutmeg. And this is Emily, our...only child."

"Ah, really? You plannin' on havin' anymore?"

"Well..."

Nutmeg hated bringing up the topic of her missing children. But she figured it would help her get it off her gizzard a bit more.

"Me and my husband. We did have wo others. But...They just disappeared. One not long after the other. Not a trace of them. You don't think these Shredders had anything to do with that, do you?"

"I wouldn't know. They're usually careless enough to leave quite a bit of evidence at the scene. But if you say that there wasn't a trace of them, I can't really say for sure."

The faint light of day shining through the small cracks in the ceiling of the prison had almost completely disappeared, and she turned to her remaining chick.

"Let's get a good night's rest, alright?"

The owlet nodded, the settled down to roost. As silence settled among the small prison, Nutmeg looked up at the cracks. She could just barely catch sight of a star shining through one of them.

"Please," she whispered, just in case anyone could hear. "If there's anyone out there, please find us. Find us and save us from this. Please."