Chapter 10: Break Out

CLICK!

Fingers LaFoote grinned. "See mates," he whispered. "There ain't no lock nowhere on the Disc that old Fingers can't pick." He gently pushed open the barred door so that is wouldn't squeak and led the way out of the cell.

The Klatchians crept over to the exit of the cell block and peeked out. Sergeant Angua sat with her back to them. The rest of the large room was littered with Watchmen, some of them being trolls.

"Let's rush 'em," suggested No-Fear Nimr. "They won't be expecting it. Now, some of us are going to die . . ."

"What?"

"Who's stupid enough to lead the charge?"

"How about Sheik Rattlenrol? He's an officer."

"Me?"

Desperate hands pushed the Sheik to the front.

He turned back to his men. "Hey, we're forgetting Black Vulture down in solitary. We can just leave him here, and he's a good gent to have in a fight."

The Klatchians looked back into the big room. Lance-Constable Detritus was cleaning his Piecemaker, a 2000-pound-draw siege crossbow.

"Yeah, we need to rescue Black Vulture."

۞

Oh-Oh wandered through the monkey house. Over the entryway to one room was a sign that read: "Guerillas." Oh-Oh knew this meant "small wars." He peered in.

Two armies of inch-high gorillas were squaring off against each other. The combatants wore armor with cute little crested helmets, carried flags and spears, and squeaked ferociously at each other. One side even had a small contingent of chariots pulled by field mice. The other side had a company of bonsai elephants, three inches high.

It was embarrassing for Oh-Oh to see simians acting like a bunch of idiot humans. He left before the bloodshed began.

۞

"Look out!"

Doc, Slick, Lefty, Pricilla, Peter Junior and Thug all hit the ground, covering their heads.

"Hi guys. How're things going?"

Doc peeked out. "Who wants to know?"

"It's me. Crackers."

"Crackers is a parrot."

"I know."

"You're a red dragon."

"Yeah, isn't it great?"

"H-h-how . . ?"

"I'm a Klatchen octorine. Mix that together with a little magic, and who knows what will happen." The dragon grinned.

The people started getting up from the ground and brushing themselves off.

"So, what now?" asked Doc.

"Well, Ali Badhboi said we were on our own for getting Tickles out, and so why don't I just lift him up and fly away?"

"You can do that?"

"Hey, I'm a red dragon. I can do practically anything I want."

Tickles shook his head. "Wait a minute. If the gods had wanted elephants to fly, they'd have painted us pink and given us wings."

"Oh don't be such a baby," scolded Crackers as he lifted into the air. "You sound like you've been talking to that chicken Carpet." He fastened his talons around Tickles and then turned and the two of them flew back the way he'd come.

Tickles's screaming could be heard from a long way off.

۞

Hrun the Barbarian strolled into the Pseudopolis Yard station house as if he owned the place. He went up to Angua and showed her a Wanted parchment. "You seen dis guy?"

She squinted. "Who's that supposed to be?"

"Him? Why, dat's Ali Badhboi. He don't know it yet, but he's going back to Wyrmberg with me."

"What's he wanted for?"

"Da usual. Plundering, pillaging, robbing, thieving, cheating at cards, pickpocketing, smuggling, shoplifting, burglary, larceny, smash and grab, fraud, tax evasion, flim flam and, oh yeah, seven paternity suits. So, you seen him?"

۞

The next feature of the monkey house that caught Oh-Oh's eye was a sign announcing: "The subject of tonight's debate: The Pending Banana Shortage." This was more like it, differences of opinion being solved on an intellectual level. Oh-Oh hurried in, hoping some good seats for the debate were still available.

One debate team was made up of Red-Bottomed Baboons. The other team consisted of Blue-Bottomed Baboons. The debate consisted of each side defecating in their own forepaws and then hurling the feces at the other side.

Oh-Oh left disappointed.

۞

You Bastard stopped. Irene Ironfist didn't.

"Iiiieeeeee!" Splat.

You Bastard turned and trotted serenely back towards the ship.

Irene Ironfist staggered back up to her feet. As she started to dust herself off, she noticed several rips in her cotton shift. Well, wasn't that just fine?

She looked around for something to use as a mirror. There was a large window in the front of Barbara's Barbarian Fashions. She checked herself out. She looked pathetic. Then her eyes focus upon the items laid out on display.

The only thing a sixteen-year-old girl enjoys better than shopping for clothes is "shopping" for clothes in the middle of the night when they were free.

Irene started looking around for a rock.

۞

In the unlit solitary cell in the Pseudopolis Yard's basement, the unlicensed assassin known as the Black Vulture heard many men coming for him. He crouched in the darkness, waiting for them. He knew he couldn't defeat them all, but many would die.

"Blackie?" called Sheik Rattlenrol.

"Who wants to know?"

"It's me, Sheik Rattlenrol."

"What are you doing here?"

"We're breaking you out."

"Do you have a key?"

"We've got something better. We've got Fingers LaFoote."

"A key would work better."

CLICK! Finger's voice said, "There ya go. Door's open."

"Uh, I take that back."

"Okay, Blackie, here's the plan. The way back upstairs is clear. We can creep back up there, no problem. But the main room is filled with Watchmen. We'll have to take them out."

"What kind of weapons do we have?" asked the Black Vulture.

"None. Just our bare fists."

"What kind of weapons do they have?"

"Uh lots, including troll with a Piecemaker."

"Who'll be leading the charge?"

"You."

"Er, have you got another plan?"

۞

The next sign Oh-Oh the monkey came across announced: "Book signing tonight: Edward the Gibbon, author of The Decline and Fall of the Planet of the Apes.

Oh-Oh smiled. Now, this had promise.

۞

The prisoners crept back up the stairs and peered out.

"Oh no. Hrun the Barbarian is out there."

"What? Where?"

"That big guy talking to the sergeant."

"So what do we do?"

"Two choices. We either go meekly back to our cells, or we charge.

"CHARGE!"

The prisoners erupted out of the cell block. The guards reached for their weapons. Hrun pulled out his massive sword.

CHASH! BASHHH! BOUNCE, BOUNCH, CRASH! What no one expected was for an elephant to come crashing in through one of the walls, to go bouncing across the room, and to smash headfirst into the far wall, knocking itself unconscious.

At first, everyone just stood there, looking at the dust and splinters as they settled and wondering where the heck the elephant had come from.

Then there was a pair of pathetically weak screams as Ali Badhboi and Igor came falling out of the ceiling, bounced off the elephant's belly, and went tumbling across the floor.

A triumphant grin spread across Hrun's face. "Good evening, Ali Badhboi. We meet again."

The prisoners saw what was happening and scurried to put themselves between Hrun and Ali Badhboi. "You'll have to come through us to get him."

Hrun grinned. "There's how many of you?"

The men tried to count but without much luck. Finally, Igor said, "Thirteen, thir."

Ali Badhboi mumbled, "Thirteen?" He looked up through the hole in the ceiling. "Are you coming?"

"No!" shouted back Sireen de Wowwow. "Given the choice between being your prisoner or being a prisoner of Anhk-Morpork, I'll stay here! The food's better!"

Ali Badhboi and the thieves all nodded understandingly.

"So you have me outnumbered 13-to-1? How can you expect to win with such small numbers?"

"Because it's not 13-to-1," snapped a voice from the entry. "It's 14-to-1." Everyone turned to see Irene Ironfist stride into the room. She was wearing a bejeweled metal bra and metal shorty shorts; a flowing, pink cloak, pink snowboots with white cross laces, and on her hip was the Warhammer of Justice (or maybe of Truth or possibly of Vengence - - she really hadn't decided yet). She placed herself directly in front of Hrun and stared him in the belt buckle.

The big barbarian shrugged. "Okay, thirteen-and-a-half-to one." He threw back his shaggy head and laughed.

Irene dropped to one knee and brought the Warhammer of Justice down on Hrun's big toe.

"Yow!" Hrun yowled and began hopping around.

But lifting his leg to do so was a tactical error, for Irene brought the Warhammer of Justice back up and CRUNCH!

Every male in the room let out a groan and immediately lost the ability to walk or even stand up straight.

Hrun's eyes crossed, and he fell backwards onto the floor.

A red dragon stuck his head in through the hole in the wall. "Sorry I dropped you, Tickles. But you were sweating so that you got too slippery to hold."

If Angua had been in werewolf form, she would have undoubtedly fought to the death. But a strange phenomenon overtakes the brain of a human (or a dwarf or a troll) when faced with a gigantic carnivorous beast outweighing the person ten or twenty times over, capable of breathing fire and heavily armored from snout to tail tip. There comes a sudden and irresistible urge to be anywhere else.

In less than 15 seconds, Crackers was alone in the room with an unconscious elephant and an unconscious barbarian.

Crackers squirmed through the whole, waddled over, and with his huge claw, ripped up a section of the floor. "Hey guys."

Down in the basement, the thieves were cowering. "Please don't eat us! No! No! No!"

"Oh for pity sake, I'm not going to eat you. It's me, Crackers."