Chapter 11
Drake was slumped on the couch, panting. He'd ranted for a good twenty minutes, tearing all over the house looking for bugs and destroying them. He hadn't given any thought to what Sharp might do but he immediately had a guilty conscience when his cellphone started ringing. He reluctantly answered.
Sharp cut right to the point.
"It's time for your last assignment, Duck. I've e-mailed a picture and a brief description of your duties. Make sure you follow it to a 'T.'"
"Okay, I got it..." Drake opened the e-mail. He mumbled as he read it, ignoring the picture in favor of the text. He gawked when he read the last line. "What? Is this some sort of sick joke? You can't seriously want me to kill this guy! That's...that's...!" he stumbled as he tried to think of a suitable term.
"Those are the terms," Sharp said coldly. "Unless you'd rather I provide some evening entertainment for you...?"
Drake heard the sinister smile in the vulture's voice. His fingers tightened around the phone. "No. I'll... I'll do it..."
"Excellent... Now, as you can see, the job is quite simple. You will track down this...—ahem— 'felon.' Notice the coordinates on the map in the attachment. He will be at that location for the next hour. You will get him alone and inject him with the vial of poison I provided. You'll find it in a package under your spare costume in your room..."
Drake flinched. He'd forgotten Sharp had access to his house.
"I trust you know what to do from there...?"
Drake reluctantly reread the e-mail. "Dump him in the bay? Sounds a little sloppy if you ask me..."
"I'm not asking for your opinion! If you don't follow through, your daughter, your sidekick, AND your 'charming' neighbors will bite the dust. Although I would be doing the world a favor by ridding it of those pests..."
"Hey hey hey! Those are MY pests you're talking about, Bub!" Drake bristled.
"Whatever... Just get the job done by midnight! And remember... NO tricks!"
"Fine! But don't ask me for anything else! The police are already asking questions about the robberies and if I don't get back to hero-stuff soon...I might as well have a 'Wanted' poster and a big bull's-eye tacked to my cape!"
"Don't worry, Darkwing... If this assignment goes without a hitch, I won't be needing your services for a long while. You can go back to your theatrics and cheap special effects to your little heart's content."
"Really?" Drake asked hopefully before clearing his throat and dropping his tone. "I mean, uh, great. That's a relief..." Drake felt like melting into the floor. Not having to watch his back and his speech constantly would be wonderful...
"That's IF you get the job done! Now get on with it!" Sharp roared.
Startled, Drake dropped the phone. Reluctantly he retrieved it from under the bed and sank down on the edge of the mattress with a sigh.
He was trapped.
Sharp had him looking for cameras and recorders over his shoulder every minute. He was afraid to talk to his family lest he let something slip that might get them all in trouble.
He had stolen from the First National Bank and he had stolen radioactive Canardium. He was a miserable excuse for a crime fighter. How could he call himself a hero now?
Anything he said or did wrong could get Gosalyn and Launchpad killed and he didn't have anyone he could ask for help. His house and phone line had been bugged and his supercomputer was still on the fritz.
He didn't dare call J. Gander. If Sharp traced that call to Hooter's office, Sharp would figure out that Darkwing Duck had ties to S.H.U.S.H. and do something horrific.
He couldn't call Morgana and risk her safety. Even with her magic, she was still susceptible to a sniper's bullet or a bomb.
Phineas Sharp was not as physically threatening as Negaduck or Taurus Bulba, but his careful planning had successfully tied Darkwing's hands behind his back. And now Darkwing had been ordered to kill someone...
The only way he could see getting out of this was exposing his identity to the media himself and putting Gosalyn and Launchpad in witness protection. But even that idea had flaws. How was he going to get out of this? His secret identity had been compromised more than once before, but never to this extent. And he had always managed to find a way out before. Heck, there was that one incident when...
And the answer came to him in a sudden, brilliant stroke of inspiration. Grabbing his wallet, he took off for the last safe refuge he had: the hidden room off the subway tunnels.
* * *
Minutes later, Drake stepped into the abandoned subway tunnel he used for access to the bridge. He made his way to the bolt hole he had set up after Taurus Bulba came back as a cyborg. He'd wanted to make sure he had a place to access his costumes and some other basic supplies just in case the tower was compromised. He'd never have guessed Phineas Sharp would be the one to target him.
He pressed a brick that was a slightly different color from its neighbors and the brick slid back into a compartment, making a clicking sound. He then opened a hidden door, going into a small square room tightly packed with a desk, a small bookcase, a cot, and an electric stove. He'd done some remodeling to give the room air, electricity, and minimal plumbing (he could open a pipe for a drink or a quick shower but not much more else he'd risk discovery) but it was still stuffy and often smelled like mildew.
He grabbed a book off the shelf against the wall and tossed it onto his desk. He whipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. He jotted a few notes down and stuffed the shopping list in his pocket. He also took the time to write two notes, leaving one out on top of the opened book and folding the other carefully. He tucked this into the inner breast pocket of the costume he was planning on wearing later.
He used the maze of waterworks and subway tunnels to join a crowd of subway passengers on their way back up to street level. He took a taxi to a costume shop to pick up a few things and went to the St. Canard arboretum.
When he had everything he needed, he went back to the bolt hole. After getting as much prepared as he could within an hour, he went home.
Moments after he reached his room and retrieved the vial of poison, his cell phone rang.
"Where have you been?" Sharp's voice growled in his ear.
"I was out grocery shopping. What's the big deal?"
"'Groceries'?" Sharp sounded skeptical. "Didn't you just go two days ago?"
"So my housemates have big appetites; so sue me," Drake replied sarcastically.
"Yes... I'll let it slide for now. Next time, send the oaf shopping! You've got business to attend to!"
"I know, I know! I'll move in on the guy tonight when he leaves the bar. He'll be inebriated and easy to isolate then."
"Good. Call me when it's done." —Click—
"'Call me when it's done'..." Drake mimicked sarcastically before lowering his voice to a low mumble. "If I wasn't afraid of what that monster would do, I'd show him a piece of my mind! Darkwing Duck taking orders from a villain..." He marched down the chairs and took off for the tower, the vial of poison in his hand.
Meanwhile, Gosalyn was getting more worried by the second. She had started to go to her dad's room to talk to him again about her training and his odd behavior when she heard him talking to someone. She'd hurried back to her room and flipped on the radio she had used to eavesdrop on his gas recipes a while ago.
Drake had failed to notice the microphone cord she had hanging in plain sight through his bedroom window. That wasn't cause for alarm since Drake could be painfully oblivious to the obvious. But, while Gosalyn had not heard Drake's quip about taking orders from a villain, she had caught enough to get really concerned.
What was Dad up to? He'd sounded more like his snarky self on the phone, but what did he mean "move in on the guy tonight"? Was he on a mission from S.H.U.S.H.?
It didn't sound like an ordinary mission. Nor would he talk to J. Gander like that. He would speak that way to Gryzlikoff or anybody else in authority, but not Director Hooter... —Gasp— What if the director had been kidnapped? That could explain everything!
Gosalyn automatically started to head to Darkwing Tower, but she stopped short. How would she find out anything with her passcode blocked on the computer...? She needed help.
She called Honker first before running down the hall to rap on Launchpad's door.
"Come on, get up, Launchpad! Darkwing needs you!"
Moments later Launchpad flew out, snatching Gosalyn up in his arms before she'd gotten halfway down the hall. "Say no more! I'm on it!"
The doorbell rang. Launchpad opened it to let Honker in.
"Great timing, Honk! Let's get going!" Gosalyn said as she grabbed Honker's arm and yanked him into the living room. Moments later, all three of them disappeared into the tunnel.
An hour later...
"Hon-kerrr...," Gosalyn moaned impatiently as she paced around the platform. "How much longer?"
"I'm going as fast as I can. I've only made it through three of your dad's firewalls," Honker replied without taking his eyes off the screen. "And those were the ones I installed for him. This one is encrypted and password-protected. Plus it's more powerful than some of the stuff I've run across on government websites."
"That's a good thing, right?" Launchpad asked, coming over to peer at the screen.
"Um, not really. It'd take a really good hacker or a virus to break through it, and I'm not sure if it's one of Darkwing's defenses or if it was placed here."
"'Placed'? You mean, somebody hacked into Dad's computer?" Gosalyn pulled Honker around to face her.
He blinked and adjusted his glasses uncomfortably.
"Possibly."
"How? This is Darkwing's secret lair! Well, okay, not so secret since the Justice Ducks know and S.H.U.S.H. knows, too, but it's not like it's in the address book or anything. Plus Dad's been acting super paranoid lately. He wouldn't just leave his super computer on for anyone to hack into."
"Well, I'm not sure how it happened, but I think I know how to find out when and what was loaded on the computer..."
"Hurry it up then, Honker! We haven't got all day!" Gosalyn went back to pacing.
"We don't?" Launchpad asked.
"No! We've got to find Dad and get some answers! Like, why doesn't he hang out with us anymore or let us go anywhere with him? And why doesn't he jump at the chance to investigate big things anymore, like that bank robbery and that break in at the research center? And why won't he let us help! What's the point of having this superhero getup if you not going to use it!"
"Well..." Launchpad started to reason. "DW said you needed more training—"
"Training is just another word for babying. He's still being overprotective, as always, all because he wants to be the big 'Hero'..." she said mockingly. "And let's face it, Launchpad, you've been sidelined just as much as I have the past couple of weeks. What gives?"
"Uh, gee, um...I'm not sure how to say this, Gos..." Launchpad looked away sheepishly, holding his hands behind his back.
"Just spit it out!" Gosalyn snapped a little too sharply. Seeing him flinch away from her, she calmed herself down a little and put a hand on his arm. "Sorry, Launchpad. You didn't deserve that..." She looked down at her shoes. "I'm just really worried that Dad's shutting all of us out his life without letting us help him...!"
"Aw..." Launchpad smiled gently and patted her head in a brotherly fashion. "Don't worry, Little Buddy. I know what you mean... I'm worried about DW, too. He hasn't been the same since..." he broke off. He wasn't about to mention the cemetery to Gosalyn. She didn't need to blame herself for DW's problems. He grinned goofily. "Gee. Guess I can't say life with DW has ever been normal..."
Gosalyn chuckled lightly. "Yeah. I'll say." Turning her attention back to Honker, she peered over his shoulder. "So, any progress yet?"
Honker sighed. "Nope. Not in the last five seconds."
"Oh! This is taking forever!" she kicked at the base of the chair unconsciously, not even noticing that she had nearly knocked Honker off of it. She grabbed Launchpad's sleeve. "Come on! We'll find out what's going on the old fashioned way!"
"I'm afraid to ask what that is...!" Launchpad grunted as he followed the determined duckling.
"So am I..." Honker commented quietly as the other two left him behind.
"Do ya think it's a good idea to spy on your dad like this? DW is gonna be really steamed when he finds out..." Launchpad asked as they flew over the streets, following the Ratcatcher's signal.
"So what else is new?" Gosalyn shrugged as she straightened her hat.
"I dunno... Um, QW, what are we going to do if DW leaves the Ratcatcher?"
"Simple. We'll just follow him on foot. No big deal."
"Right. No big deal... Following Darkwing on the streets when he's on a case will be a piece of cake..." Launchpad replied nervously and skeptically.
"Don't worry so much, Launchpad," Quiverwing groaned as she peered down at the streets. "All we have to do is stay in Dad's blind spots! He never notices anything above him, even when it's painfully obvious that it's a trap! And how many times has he walked right by you when you were on the sofa and not even known you were there?"
"Gee...I hadn't even thought of that. And DW has been acting kinda...distracted lately... He didn't even want to go bowling!"
"Then that settles it. We'll just watch him from the rooftops and keep our distance. That way if he does get mixed up in something he can't handle, we'll be there to help."
"Sounds like a plan." Launchpad focused on his controls for a bit before noticing that the blipping from the Ratcatcher's signal had slowed. "Hey...it looks like DW is stopping."
"Alright, Launchpad... Let's get inquisitive!" Quiverwing rubbed her hands together eagerly.
Launchpad frowned nervously, but he landed the Thunderquack a block away on top of a long, flat-roofed warehouse. They climbed down with the jet's rope ladder and crossed over to a higher building where they would have a better view of the streets and sidewalks.
The streets were practically deserted at this hour. Sports and primetime shows were on television and the bar patrons and scumbags were still being entertained. It should be easy to find a duck in a cape and a broad hat.
Launchpad nudged Quiverwing and pointed when he found Darkwing. Quiverwing zoomed in on him with the binoculars she was using. Darkwing looked tense and focused on something... She panned a little ahead of him and saw a lone figure walking away from Darkwing. The guy was tall, lanky, white haired, and wearing a brown vest over a white shirt with a derby hat and khakis. Looked like a geek to her...
"What's he doing...?" Quiverwing muttered to herself as she again looked back at Darkwing.
Launchpad responded as if she had asked him.
"Beats me," he said with a shrug.
Quiverwing ignored him, her attention focused on the stealthy shape below...