These flashbacks might seem kind of pointless and generally getting in the way of the plot, but they're relevance will become more apparent in later chapters.

March 9th 1966

"You've pushed me one step too far, Blowhole," Kowalski growled. He had Blowhole cornered in the control room at the heart of the underground base, on the opposite side of the room to the computer bank that would allow him to call every lobster in the city to his location.

"You would suggest that I allow a spy to continue to operate?" the scientist countered calmly.

"Even I wouldn't hunt down my own kid."

"Then I will probably outlive you," Blowhole smirked.

"I wouldn't count on it…"

"Kowalski!" Doris cried running out of the safety of one of the darkened tunnels towards her father.

"Doris?!" Kowalski exclaimed, fending off a desperate attempt to disarm him, "What are you doing?!"

"What are you doing?" She countered, backing away, as the first course of action was obviously futile. She now stood dangerously close to what would be directly in Kowalski's line of fire.

"What I have to do if you're ever going to be safe," Kowalski pleaded. He could tell the conversation was spiralling dangerously in the direction of another that was equally unforgettable, "I hadn't wanted you to know…"

"You aren't seriously…" Doris paled as the realisation, a conclusion Kowalski was surprised she hadn't come to already, dawned on her, "Couldn't you just get him to promise not to... or…or turn him over to Private?"

"If I turn him in, and Jones arrests Blowhole he'll arrest me too…"

"Since I'd be so happy to testify as to his many crimes," Blowhole added, "It is a difficult decision, isn't it, pen-gu-in? You can save the girl, but you will lose her, however if you keep her, she will die."

"Kowalski, please…!" Doris begged but could find no sympathy, "Maybe…"

"You know what would happen to me if I'm caught." Doris seemed to be swayed by the argument, as was demonstrated by the slump in her shoulders, and she slowly walked away from the no man's land between the two adversaries. Blowhole was right. Either way, he'd never see her again.

Suddenly Blowhole's hand moved rapidly from the side of his chair, what was undoubtedly his own weapon, concealed by the object. Almost out of instinct the gun went off in his hand.

The sound of the single shot was almost as loud as the sound of Doris' body landing at her father's feet. The crazed laugh and the second shot that followed were barely remembered in comparison.


September 15th 1975

Kowalski was seated on his bunk in the HQ, sorting through the papers he'd been given, especially the diary Private had procured. It was much like a normal diary, except for the setting, not the objective notes he expected and though the data was strange at best, and outright contradictory at worst, it still offered an interesting insight into the previous team.

"… I can't wait for tomorrow! I've planned the whole trip from start to finish as I think Kowalski has too, at least from the budget side, though Skipper has often told me that price is no consideration. Well, maybe I can end this whole thing fast if I bankrupt them on haute couture, though if anyone can do that, and sadly she won't be able to make the trip, its Doris…"

"Doris." Kowalski repeated, shutting the book. It defied logic how much damage that name could do.

Operation: Filing Cabinet 3/9/66

"Galileo?" Francis called from the other room.

"Dammit," the barely eighteen year old muttered. He had to get those papers to Jones before the message the mole in the department had sent got to Blowhole and exposed him. He grabbed the folder, hiding it under the black blazer that was standard uniform for lobsters, and started to walk down the hall. If he could get the folder to the roof he'd be able to request a pick up then his job would be done.

"Galileo Newton?" Francis called again. The young agent winced guiltily. However he was snapped out of his moral debate by the sound of a single shot. Immediately he set off running down the corridor towards the control room where he assumed the shot had come. He was almost to the door, though he could, from the limited view of the room, see nothing amiss when his foot collided with a metal object that skittered across the floor. He picked it up, examining it a few seconds. This certainly wasn't standard issue lobster. In fact, it looked strangely familiar, like something he'd seen in the files, he just couldn't place where.

Having been delayed long enough he resumed his course. He should have turned back.

September 17th 1975

"Hey doc?" The lobster poked his head into the lab. There was a crash and a fizzle as the beaker of some strange liquid slipped from the scientist's hand and smashed, the liquid slowly starting to eat away at the floor.

"Yes, red one?" Blowhole snapped. That experiment had taken him the last two days, and he was already starting to think of suitable methods to exact retribution, when he reminded himself he was short on help these days.

"You ain't gonna believe this, doc." The lobster continued.

"Well, what is it?"

"It's… No, you gotta see it," the lobster handed Blowhole a plain white envelope, "It's to Doris, doc."

"I can read," the scientist took the letter, examining the precise writing on the envelope, "This better be good, now that you've told me your address." He thought aloud. A risky move indeed. He couldn't think of a single thing inside that letter that would prevent him from charging right in and levelling the whole block. The nerve, using Doris!

"That will be all, red one." Blowhole dismissed the lobster, his thoughts taking him back to the single moment that had consumed his entire life.

9th March, 1966

"Galileo?" Francis called for the second time, and was surprised by the lack of answer. He hated pulling rank, but Galileo was his personal lab assistant, and father always insisted that the chain of command be kept apparent. Galileo had agreed that it was better that way. After the third call he had no doubt that something had to be wrong, so he left the room, started down the corridor in the direction his acquaintance had left in. That was when he heard the shot.

Immediately he quickened his pace towards the room from which his mental calculations had judged the sound to have come.

"Doris!" he screamed as he saw her lying there, and as he saw the blood. He raced across the room to where she lay sprawled at the feet of her father's wheelchair, "Doris, please talk to me!" he panicked after he received no answer. She was terrifyingly still and pale, her eyes closed and a small stream of blood trickled from the corner of her mouth. Ignoring the crimson pool he lifted her form from the floor, desperately checking for any signs of life.

"Doris!" Shouted another voice that Blowhole knew well. There was a patter of feet as Galileo ran towards Francis, "What happened?" He asked, seemingly just as shocked as the other scientist. Seemingly.

Doris muttered something unintelligible, her eyes fluttering open. Then she spotted Galileo, and her eyes widened, "Kowalski?! You…" and she drifted off again, but this was enough for Francis, and it was more than enough when he saw the gun in the other man's hand.

"Why?" He demanded, standing up and allowing Doris' lolling head to rest in the puddle of blood, "Why?" he repeated as he approached, still not quite comprehending what was happening. It was like some kind of twisted nightmare, with the two people he loved most in the world.

"Francis, what are you…" Galileo stuttered, and then the pieces started to fit together in his head, "Wait, you don't think I…" The incriminating weapon slipped from his fingers, but Francis was fast to retrieve it.

"I know you were sent here to spy on us. I thought you were working for Jones but…" Francis recounted, still trying to wrap his mind around what was happening, "I didn't give you up, because I thought… I was under the impression we..."

"I didn't kill her!" the lab assistant denied, backing away nervously, "I knew she wasn't involved! That was why I told you what was happening so you could warn her!" However Blowhole had told his son all about the things people would say if it would let them live just a few more seconds. Francis had been taught every trick the Penguins would play in order to get his father. Now that, he could understand. It was going to happen someday. That was why he was being trained to be the successor. But Doris… He knew the Penguins considered her a security risk since she apparently could recognise their agents, but why now?!

Apparently Galileo saw that he wasn't fooled and quickened his pace, so he was now facing Blowhole from the hallway just outside the room.

"How could you do this, Galileo?" He was no longer shocked, he was furious. Doris had always told him after she had come back, that she was going to invent the first flying car, that she was going to learn the violin. And most of all, that one day someone, she never said who, would come back, and they would finally go to that cottage by the lake and... Before he knew it the firearm was raised from his side.

The bulletproof glass door slammed down between them as Galileo hit the control panel, though he still stood staring for several seconds back at Francis through the glass. Then he turned around, running off into the darkened hallway. Francis watched him run as a tear slipped down his cheek.

"I don't care what I have to do," he vowed, though even in his mind he choked on the words, "but he will pay. I will never stop until he pays."

He couldn't understand why she did it, putting herself between her killer and their father - he'd asked himself many times yet he was certain he never would have done the same, and certainly wasn't expected to - but he didn't need to know what happened to crave revenge.

However the natural curiosity that made him a good scientist got the better of him and he opened the envelope, reading the letter. As he read through the letter his expression changed, and he adopted an almost childish grin. However a few seconds later it changed again to a thoughtful anxiety.

"Get me pen and paper red one." He shouted through the door at the lobster outside.


In any other situation, Marlene would be over the moon to be able to attend such a function, but now she could barely help but shiver in the new evening dress she'd bought.

"Ms Adler?" Marlene turned around, and was surprised by the man that stood before her. Gosh Kowalski had friends in high places, "Hi, I'm Alex Lionel, but you can call me Alex…" Marlene's expression still resembled that of a fish out of water, "Are you alright, I totally get it if…?"

"No, I'm fine." Marlene replied hurriedly. She glanced over her shoulder at the guard she'd been assigned who was starting to tire of his search for her in the dense crowd.

"Well, I hope you enjoyed yourself while you were here," Alex replied, and there was a slight flicker in his warm smile, "Take the door to the left. He's just outside."

"You hear that, Private?" Skipper whispered into his radio.

"Yes Skippah."

"I said she lead us right to him," Kowalski added proudly. Of course, he'd never actually admit that he'd tricked Skipper's crush into what had a 6% risk of becoming a very dangerous situation for her, but it worked, right?


Marlene walked with forced confidence across the barren stretch of concrete, broken only by a recreation of a plain white clapboard house. It was relatively unlit once she shut the door, and with the sun sinking below the horizon it cast a dark purple glow over the whole scene. Stood still as a statue, looking out in the opposite direction to her was the purpose of her visit.

"You have fifteen seconds to hide or you'll land in jail again." He spoke, turning around sharply as she soon as the boards of the first step creaked beneath her weight.

"What?" She stuttered.

"This is a trap and you have been the bait. You now have ten seconds to hide. I recommend somewhere where you have decent cover. There will almost certainly be shooting."