"Alright, people, update me on the situation." Skipper barked, strolling back into the centre of the room.
"Well, uh, Hans continues to demand that you answer the phone." Private reported. Skipper certainly had made a fast recovery. Well, he always had been an unsinkable cork, Private wasn't surprised that hadn't changed after all these years, "He hasn't killed any more of the hostages, though he continually threatens to…"
"Hurry it up, kid! What kind of a war are we fighting if we're letting enemy agents just stroll right in to the Zoo and set up camp!" Skipper interrupted, "I want entrance strategies!"
"Well, sir, we still don't seem to have any openings, but I'll continue to monitor radio traffic and our reconnaissance teams." Private replied.
"'War'?" Rockgut whispered. Kowalski grimaced.
"Sorry, sir. I had to hypnotize him to think it was 1943." He replied sheepishly. "He thinks he just escaped from Blowhole's POW camp – science help him if that fool decides to stroll in now."
"Duly noted." Rockgut replied quietly, "I'll pass the word on not to correct him."
"'You'll continue to monitor radio traffic?'" Skipper repeated mockingly, "I want action. Women!" He rolled his eyes at Private. "Lt. Kowalski, get me ears on Hans, and then you can tell me why the hell you've got a girl doing a man's job."
"Apparently, he also still think's Private's a girl." Kowalski muttered to Rockgut, "Yes, sir. Uh, Private?" The confused Penguin was already starting to suspect that, as usual, Kowalski was behind any strange happenings, "Uh, take notes on what Rockgut has to say." Private got a look that told Kowalski he certainly hoped Rockgut was going to tell him what was going on. "Alright, Skipper, the second phone on the right connects to Hans' office, and I'll have my analysis of the situation in front of you in the next 30 seconds. Uh, how much do you remember about the current situation…?"
"Hans didn't turn out to be who he thought he was, his whole disillusioned ethicist or whatever you called it act must have just been to gain our attention, and he's holed up on the top floor of the Zoo threatening to kill hostages, including that girl from the cabaret… the pretty brunette, what was her name… Marlene, right." Skipper replied, "I had another one of those black outs, right?"
"Yes sir. Also, you've been talking to him for ten minutes already. Uh, your blackout was likely caused by the death of the three officers who went up there." Kowalski replied. Skipper nodded thoughtfully.
"Damn shame. I'll make sure he pays for it before I bring the spy in for interrogation." Skipper answered calmly before picking up the phone. "Alright, Hans, I'm back. What do you want?"
"For the last time, there's nothing on this earth you could possibly offer that I'd care about." Hans replied shortly, "All I hear in your pointless questions are pathetic pleas for mercy."
"And all I can hear is a guy who's given up and is hoping he can make a loud last stand to leave a mark for himself, when the fact of the matter is, you're just a pawn who's been cut loose." Skipper countered. "So you say you're going to kill everyone up there? What stops me from breaking down the door if you're going to do that anyhow?"
"Hope." Hans replied, "You've got too much of it, judging by how you're still trying to reason with me. I know you're going to stay right there and listen…"
"Oh, you think I'm bluffing? Just try me. I've dealt with a lot of guys like you and I'm going to deal with a lot more after you're dead, so…"
"Do you want me to put Marlene on so those can be the last words she hears you say…?"
"Lay one hand on her and your life expectancy shortens to as long as it takes me to get to your floor!" Skipper snapped. Then he frowned, as if confused by his own strong reaction.
"And this is why Blowhole isn't half the genius he claims he is." Hans sighed, "The way to get to you isn't through some elaborate mind game or crazy inventions. I've never been in the situation of losing the woman I care about, so I wouldn't know first-hand, but threatening the girlfriend does seem to send you to pieces."
"You've got Lola too, huh? Now you've really…"
"Wait, Lola?" Hans interrupted. The line went silent as Skipper also seemed to detect the sudden change in Hans' tone. "Put Kowalski on the line."
"You think you've got a better chance with my lieutenant? Unless you've forgotten about Doris, I think he wants you dead even more than I do…"
"Hand me over to Kowalski now."
Skipper shrugged and turned to call the lieutenant over, but Kowalski was already standing behind him, looking deathly pale. Skipper muttered an apology for bringing up Doris.
"Kowalski speaking." Kowalski picked up the phone.
"You hypnotized him to think it's 1943." Hans accused. Kowalski covered the receiver and winced.
"Yes."
"Very clever, Kowalski," Hans replied, "Thought it would ease the pain? Well turn him back. I want Skipper to remember everything, everyone he's lost interfering with my business when he loses the last thing he has left, and that it was all his fault."
"That is far from what is considered an incentive. Perhaps we can make a deal if you were to release one of the hostages…"
"This is my counter offer: I want to hear Skipper is back to normal or I kill one of the hostages now."
"Alright, give me five minutes." Kowalski set the receiver down on the table. "Skipper, get over here. Listen to me: 'Doris Blowhole'."
"Hi' password' a'ways Doris." Rico commented. But nothing seemed to happen."
"And?" Skipper replied blankly. "You've really got to move on, Kowalski. She's on the wrong side of the Atlantic and the wrong side of the war."
"I don't understand it. Why didn't it work?" Kowalski frowned.
"Why didn't what work?"
"You're still hypnotized. What year is it?"
"Hypnotized? It's 1943."
"'Doris Blowhole'." Nothing happened, "Great science, why isn't this working?! Skipper, you need to remember! The year's 1960…!"
"What are you talking about, Kowalski? You've hypnotized yourself again, haven't you?" Skipper snapped, "You always pick the worst times for your little experiments!"
"What's happening?" The tinny reproduction of Hans' voice demanded.
"Technical difficulties!" Kowalski replied hurriedly, "I don't understand it, he's not responding to the key word! Give me a little more time!"
"Not likely." Kowalski heard the phone drop to the desk, followed by footsteps. There was a scream, and the sound of someone being dragged towards the phone. "Introduce yourself."
"Agent… Leonard Somnus Jr.!" Replied a terrified agent. Kowalski remembered him vaguely. This was his third week on the job.
"Get Skippar back to his old self. I'm losing patience." Hans ordered. Kowalski was already scribbling frantically on his clipboard, but half of what he wrote didn't even seem to make sense to him. The whole situation seemed to defy prediction and the science it was based on.
"Skipper," Kowalski began, trying to sound more calm and collected and less paniced than he currently was. "I need you to relax your paranoia just for a few seconds and trust me…"
"I don't want to hear the hypnosis talking, Kowalski," Skipper cut him off, "I want to hear options that are going to rescue those hostages."
"Don't belive me? Ask everyone else!" Kowalski exclaimed, "Rockgut, what year is this?"
"1960." Rockgut replied.
"Private?"
"It really is 1960, Skippah."
"Rico?"
"Ni'een sixty."
"See?" Skipper paused, and several seconds passed without an immediate contradiction.
"Really, Kowalski? You hypnotized everyone else too?" Skipper demanded, "turn them all back to normal right now. I wouldn't be surprised if you'll be court-martialled for this."
"Give me a minute or two!" Kowalski shouted into the phone before hanging up and turning back to Skipper. It took possibly the most self-control Kowalski had used in the past five years to keep his voice calm and measured.
"Skipper, I had to do that, because Hans is delusional. He thinks it's 1960." Kowalski replied, hoping he was a better liar than people told him he was, "He's highly unstable right now, and bringing about a psychological crisis might endanger the hostages, so you need to play along with him and pretend it's 1960. If he asks you any questions, I'll be listening on the other line, and I'll give you an answer based on my calculations of what he is most likely to believe the world will be like in the future." Skipper nodded.
"Why didn't you just tell me that before?" He demanded, muttering something about scientists being in the lab too long and picked up the phone. "Hans, you still there?"
"How are you feeling Skipper? By the way, would you mind telling me the name of the current president?" Kowalski saw Skipper's lips about to form Franklin D. Roosevelt, but waited for Kowalski.
"Eisenhower!" Kowalski hissed, "Dwight D. Eisenhower!"
"Dwight D. Eisenhower." Skipper repeated.
"Good, Kowalski's got you back to normal." Hans answered, and Skipper gathered Kowalski had guessed correctly, "Alright, Skipper, I'm willing to make a deal. I'm willing to release the hostages, but I want a guarantee I'll get out of here. Put a helicopter on the roof within ten minutes."
"That's impossible! I can't get one that fast!" Skipper protested.
"Last I checked the speed of those new helicopters and the distance between here and the nearest one of them, yes you can."
"And you think the Air Corps is just going to hand me one in the time frame you're suggesting, no time for questions, because I said pretty please?"
"No, Skipper, and Kowalski – I assume you're listening too – I expected to catch Skipper out on his dates. I think you mean the Air Force, Skipper. It's been called that since 1947. Maybe now you'll take me more seriously."
Kowalski wouldn't forget the following gunshot any more than he'd forget the moment he'd seen Doris dead on the floor of that warehouse.
Private watched the situation deteriorate. There was no other way to put it. Kowalski, naturally, blamed everyone but himself, including Skipper, before turning it on himself. The process was sped up by the fact that everyone blamed Kowalski. Hans had another hostage and Skipper still wouldn't snap out of it. The whole room was a blur of motion, though none of it was helpful, so effectively, they were all standing still.
"K'walski?"
"Don't bother me now, Private!" Kowalski had snapped in reply.
"It's really important…"
But even when Private had said what he had to say in the hopes Kowalski would hear it, Kowalski had just talked over him and hadn't picked up a word.
Something bothered Private about the whole situation. Well, actually, just one tiny part of it. Everyone was running about so much, which was probably why nobody else had picked up on it. Private, who had been resigned to secondary communications analysis, effectively a glorified switchboard operator and secretary, had started to scrutinize the details, since he was barred from doing anything else to help. It had taken away the edge of being forced to listen, with nothing he could do. And Skipper had been trying to protect him.
"Skippah!" Private called. Even as he got his leader's attention, his pen drew a sharp black line across the floor plans. "I think I've found a way in. There's a service stairway nobody seems to have noticed up until now. It's been bricked up on Hans' side, as you can see, so he might not have realized it's there, but some carefully placed demolition could get you in." Private just hoped that in everyone's excitement, nobody would look twice at the hastily drawn line, "It runs parallel to the main stairway. I think a team of a few men could make it through."
"Kowalski, Rico!" Skipper ordered, "Got an idea of where that is?"
"Yes, sir." Kowalski replied as Skipper grabbed the nearest functional rifel. Kowalski followed suit, and Rico didn't have to, since he was already armed to the teeth.
"Not you, Private, stay here and monitor radio traffic." Skipper ordered. Not at all unexpected. They were gone less than five seconds after Skipper had said that, and now Private had the microphone all to himself.
"Hans?" He began tentatively, "Before you interrupt me, I've absolutely no interest in making a deal…"
"I can't seem to find any kind of opening, sir." Kowalski reported. "The walls are all quite solid."
"Then double check! You saw the plans!" Skipper hissed in reply, "You know I do not take failure as an answer…"
"Well I can't make a staircase appear where there isn't one, no matter how much you want it." Kowalski snapped back, "the plans must have been flawed. There is nothing here." Kowalski might have said more, but Skipper was already started towards the main staircase.
"Wha' oo doin'?" Rico demanded. "Oo head' t'wards 'is fron' door."
"What else can we do?" Skipper replied, peering around the edge of the stairs, "You heard him, he's going to kill those hostages anyway."
"I guess a full frontal assault is their only chance." Kowalski admitted reluctantly.
"On my mark we charge. Rico blasts the door, we take Hans out before he can do any damage." Skipper stated, "Shoot to kill. Those hostages are more valuable than his information value. All good?" There were no objections, "Mark."
Skipper and Kowalski and Rico raced up the stairs at record pace. Rico was all ready to blast down the door the moment he saw it. The metallic sound, echoed by the stairway into indistinguishability, only increased their resolve. This was their only chance.
It wasn't, as the situation proved when they burst through the door of the main stairway.
The three Penguins stopped dead in their tracks, Kowalski almost stumbling over Skipper and Rico half way through the door. The bank-valt-esq steel door that had stood between them and Hans was open. Hans was stood a few feet in front of it. The moment he saw them, he raised his hands carefully and deliberately.
"Drop the gun, now!" Kowalski ordered, his training from a long list of police raids kicking in. The gun clattered to the floor unthreateningly and Hans waited patiently as Rico and Skipper raced forwards, grabbing the prisoner roughly without hesitation. The sound of footsteps behind them made Kowalski turn around, only for the door to open, revealing Private. The youngest member of the team raced across the floor towards Hans before Kowalski or the arriving officers could stop him.
"I'm sorry." Private spoke holding out a light brown file. Hans' arm moved like lightening, and Rico stumbled back, freeing the criminal's right hand. He snatched the file from Private, scanning the file. Kowalski snatched it back less than a few seconds later and Skipper shoved him roughly against the wall as Rico handcuffed him and relived Hans of his spare knife. "No, let him read more!" Private protested, but Hans was unusually quiet.
"I knew Private couldn't lie anyway." He muttered. Skipper handed him over to the waiting officers, with Rico supervising before racing off to find Marlene. The hostages were already streaming out.
Kowalski turned the file over in his hand. 'Doris Blowhole' the cover read. It looked like a case file.
"I realised Hans didn't know Doris was dead from his comment to Skipper about not knowing what it's like to lose a loved one." Private explained quietly, "I think you'll find he's willing to cooperate."