Wonka burst through the swinging white doors, then stopped to catch his breath. He looked around, searching for ICU, when he noticed Oompa-loompa doctors and nurses staring questioningly at him. Having caught his breath, Wonka stood straight, his hat only one foot away from the low ceiling. "Where is the WSP agent?" he said, more of a demand than a question.
"Recovery." One of the doctors replied coolly, before continuing to fill out the numerous documents spread before him. Wonka nodded his thanks and headed toward the post-surgery area. Locating it, he entered the chamber and glanced about him. He grimaced when he caught sight of the injured operative. The messenger had been right- the agent was in bad shape. His face bore evidence of stitches, and his body was covered with large bandages that Wonka assumed covered horrendous wounds. He stepped over to the tiny bed and knelt, the bed only coming up to the tops of his thighs. He shook his head slowly as he thought of what could have happened to destroy the Loompa's teammates.
He was about to move away, out of respect for the injured soldier, but the agent had begun to stir. He opened his eyes and gazed at Wonka, his sight registering amazement, hope, and fear all at once. "My Fuhrer," he rasped weakly. "I tried. We all did." Wonka settled down beside the bed once more. "Tell me what happened." He urged softly. The agent nodded, but grimaced from the slash wounds he had on his face and chest. "We had made it to the point of interception; all was going well. We even took out a few of the crew and the captain without arousing any outcry. But…" "But? Wonka prompted. The Loompa's eyes held a distant look as he revisited the scene in his mind. "We fell into a trap. The command bridge had been rigged as if they had been anticipating us. We were gassed, and upon regaining consciousness, we were interrogated. They asked for your location, but we refused to give it." Wonka paused. "What happened to your teammates?"He asked. The Loompa sighed remorsefully. "The enemy has gained greater forces. Chadworth has acquired guards that have skills comparable to ours. They managed to take us by surprise. In the end, they seized us, slashed each of us, then dropped us overboard. I was able to catch hold of the anchor before plummeting into the water, but the others landed in the ocean." Wonka put the pieces together. "Sharks," he murmured to himself. The Loompa shut his eyes and clenched his fists. "I watched them struggle at the surface, then get torn to bloody pieces. I SHOULD HAVE DIED WITH THEM!" His last sentence turned into an angry half-wail, half-yell that brought a nurse running in. he looked sadly at the afflicted patient, before injecting him with a heavy sedative. Immediately, the agent relaxed, his scream turning into soft sobs that soon quieted completely. Withdrawing the syringe, the nurse turned and noticed Wonka for the first time. "Oh, my Fuhrer!" he said, standing rigidly. But Wonka wasn't listening. He was digesting the information he had just been given. Apparently, Chadworth was becoming smarter. How he had obtained such fearsome-sounding forces, he had no idea, but such challenges were only meant for Wonka to overcome. Willy looked down at the now peaceful Oompa, damaged and mentally scarred. True, he was far from cute, and new Oompa-loompas were generated periodically, but he was Wonka's creation. No one had the right to destroy or manipulate it except Wonka. Willy got to his feet, his expression hard, and his mind made up. He would exact the price from Chadworth at all and any costs. The price: total surrender.
He paced restlessly, his face expressionless as his mind processed the implications of this new information. JR was dubious about Vincent's supposed discovery; after all, it would be just like Wonka to falsify his location and set a trap for Chadworth's forces. Vincent had pointed out that Wonka had obviously not expected his operatives to get killed, nor for his technology to fall into enemy hands. Though JR desperately wanted to believe that the reticent Wonka had finally been found, so much had been lost because they had previously underestimated the adversary's power. JR was hesitant to send out anything more than a small task force for recon purposes; he did not want to waste anything just because his brother had allegedly found a tracking device that had located Wonka. He stopped pacing, and gazed through the window of his office, watching the guards drilling on the grassy lawn. Vincent was among them now, going through the paces with more defined skill than the others; he had obviously found his element, and had embraced it with his all. JR observed with interest as the exercise continued. His brother had changed, whether for the better or the worse, JR could not tell. But as the saying goes, "blood is thicker than water", so JR would stick with his only surviving relative through whatever hellish nightmare that Wonka put them through. JR stepped over to his desk and lifted the phone from its cradle, dialing a number that he had rarely used, and had done so with increasing hesitation each time. The line hummed as the connection was placed, then clicked as the person on the other side picked up. "Hello." The voice on the other end was cold and unwelcoming. JR's spine tingled at the sound, but he spoke with determination. "This is Chadworth. I request activation of the forces. It will require a spread of different skills; I would like to choose the men needed for this mission. I will adjourn to your destination in a short while." The line hissed for a few moments, and JR feared that the sinister man had hung up. But the frosty voice came again, no less chilling than before. "Affirmative, sir. We will be waiting for your arrival." JR set the phone back in its cradle and let out a deep breath. He had spoken with the Guardian of the militant branch before, but he was never prepared to take the brunt of subliminal wintriness that seemed to constantly emanate from the man. He glanced at the wall clock. 5:34. The sun would be setting in a few hours. It would be then that he would board the helicopter, destined to land at a secure facility in the northernmost reaches of England. There he would choose the men needed to scout the icy wastelands for the hypothetical location of Wonka. Maybe, just maybe, the end of Wonka is near at hand.