Later at night, a dishearten Milo returns home.
"I'm home." Milo said remorsefully. "Fluffy?" He called his cat and closed the door with his left foot. "Here, kitty."
He went over to a lamp hanging from the ceiling and pulls the cord, but the light didn't turn on as it clicked. He then pulled it a few more times when then lightning flashed as a woman suddenly appeared that Milo doesn't recognized. As she had blonde hair, blue eyes, black dress, furred stool and hat.
"Milo James Thatch?" She said turning to him.
Milo pulled the lamp cord once more as it clicked. "Who... who are you? H-How did you get in here?"
"I came down the chimney. Ho, ho, ho." She said with a dry impression of Santa. "My name is Helga Sinclair. I'm acting on behalf of my employer who has a most intriguing proposition for you. Are you interested?"
"Y-Your... Your... Your employer? Heh." Milo said. "Who is your employer?"
Lightning then flashed.
Lightning flashed more as a sign was casted with a W, and gates opened as Helga drove her car through the gates. And Milo saw a sighed that read, 'Whitmore'.
And Helga drove her car up a road throughs a mansion as lightning flashed.
They were soon inside as a servant held Helga's coat as she hands him her hat.
"This way, please." Helga said to Milo. "And don't drip on the Caravaggio." She said as they walked across a hall showing many artifacts from other countries of the world. "Step lively. Mr. Whitmore does not like to be kept waiting."
Milo entered an elevator as Helga closed the door as they were lowered down.
"You will address him as "Mr. Whitmore" or "Sir." Helga advised fixing Milo. "You will stand unless asked to be seated. Keep your sentences short and to the point. Are we clear?"
Milo then gulped as the elevator stopped, and the doors opened to a large room with artifacts and one side shows a large tank full of water and has fish swimming around.
"And relax." Helga said as Milo entered the room. "He doesn't bite... often."
Milo turns to her as she closed the elevator doors, and Milo wanders around the room fixing his sleeves. And then to his surprise, he saw a photo of his grandfather with an elderly man with white hair and a beard. And the photo indicates they look like they were close friends.
"Grandpa?" Milo stared.
"Finest explorer I ever met." The man from the photo said in a blue robe and in a yoga pose with his left leg over behind his neck and Milo went over to him. "Preston Whitmore. Pleasure to meet you, Milo." He shook Milo's hand with his foot as he used his left foot to crack his neck with a crunch and sighed. "Join me in a little yoga?"
"Uh, no, no. No, thank you." Milo said as Whitmore turned cracking his back. "Did you really know me grandfather?"
"Oh, yeah." Whitmore said. "Met old Thaddeus back in Georgetown. Class of '66. We stayed close friends till the end of his days." He then twisted his left foot grunting as it then popped with a crack. "Even dragged me along on some of his danged fool expeditions. Thatch was crazy as a fruit bat, he was. He spoke of you often."
"Funny." Milo said. "He... he never mentioned you."
"Oh, he wouldn't." Whitmore said and stood on his hands and head. "He knew how much I liked my privacy."
He robe then dropped a bit as Whitmore grunted cracking his right foot.
"I keep a low profile." Whitmore said.
"Mr. Whitmore, should I be wondering why I'm here?" Milo asked bringing the subject back.
"Look on that table." Whitmore said gesturing to a side table near the fireplace.
Milo turns to the table and went over to it as Whitmore cracked his toes.
"Ah!" Whitmore exclaimed. "It's for you."
Milo grabs a wrapped packaged and was labeled, "For Milo with love Thaddeus Thatch".
"It's... it's from my grandfather." Milo said turning to Whitmore.
"He brought that package to me years ago." Whitmore said standing in a yoga stance. "He said if anything were to happen to him I should give it to you when you were ready whatever that means."
Milo unwraps the paper, and saw the package was a brown covered book, and labeled on it was a golden A in a strange language shape.
"It... It can't be." Milo said in disbelief recognizing the book. "It's the Shepard's Journal." He removed his glasses and turns to Whitmore drinking something. "Mr. Whitmore, this journal is the key to finding the lost continent of Atlantis!"
"Atlantis! Ha ha ha!" Whitmore laughed. "I wasn't born yesterday, son." He went behind a dressing wall.
"No, no, no." Milo said placing his glasses back on and looked through the pages. "Look... look at this. Coordinates. Clues. It's all right here."
"Yeah, looks like gibberish to me." Whitmore poking his head out from the dressing wall.
"That's because it's been written in a dialect that no longer exists." Milo explained as Whitmore tossed his robe over the dressing wall.
"So it's useless." Whitmore said poking his head out again.
"No, no, just difficult." Milo said. "I've spent my whole life studying dead languages. It's not gibberish to me."
"Ah, it's probably a fake." Whitmore coming out of the dressing wall in a white suit and fixed a red tie.
Milo then closed the Journal. "Mr. Whitmore, my grandfather would have known if this were a fake. I would know. I will stake everything I own, everything that I believe in that this is the genuine Shepard's Journal."
"All right, all right." Whitmore said as they went to a table by the water tank as 2 strange 8-finned fish swam around. "So what do you want to do with it?" He sat down.
"Well, I'll-I'll-I'll get funding." Milo said. "I mean, I'll... The museum..."
"They'll never believe you." Whitmore said.
"I'll show them!" Milo said. "I will make them believe."
"Like you did today?" Whitmore inquired.
"Yes!" Milo said. "Well, no. How did you... Forget about them, OK? Never mind! I will find Atlantis on my own. I mean, if I have to rent a rowboat."
Whitmore then had a smirk.
"Congratulations, Milo." Whitmore said. "This is exactly what I wanted to hear. But forget the rowboat, son." He flipped a small part of the table and pushed a button.
Then the table opened as a platform was lifted up revealing several models of vehicles.
"We'll travel in style." Whitmore said.
The models were a large armored submarine with a wide tail with tri-rudders, gun-turret on it's portside, and a glass sphere at it's front. A submersible with a similar appearance, and with wing-like structures. another submersible vehicle with a wide structure. A large drilling vehicle with a large drill, making it look like a giant juice maker on wheels, and a number of trucks and small airplanes, and lastly a large red hot-air balloon.
Milo looks at the models in amazement.
"It's all been arranged, the whole ball of wax." Whitmore said as Milo grabs the balloon model.
"Why?" Milo asked.
"For years your granddad bent my ear with stories about that old book." Whitmore explained. "I didn't but it for a minute. So finally I got fed up and made a bet with the old coat. I said, "Thatch, if you ever actually find that that so-called journal, not only will I finance the expedition, but I'll kiss you right on the mouth"." He showed Milo a photo frame of him and Thaddeus with disgusted looks just moments after kissing as Thaddeus held the Shephard's Journal. "Imagine my embarrassment when he found the darn thing." He then placed the photo frame down. "Now I know your grandfather's gone, Milo... God rest his soul, but Preston Whitmore is a man who keeps his word." He nears the fireplace of the photo of him and Thaddeus. "You hear that, Thatch?" He nears his cane over Thaddeus. "I'm going to the afterlife with a clear conscience, by thunder!" He then chuckled and sighed.
Milo stared as Whitmore stood in thought of his old friend.
"Your grandpa was a great man." Whitmore said. "You probably don't realize how great. Those buffoons at the museum dragged him down made him a laughingstock of him. He died a broken man. If I could bring back just 1 shred of proof... that'd be enough for me. Ah, Thatch. What are we standing around for?" He then turns to him. "We got work to do."
"But, Mr. Whitmore, you know, in order to do... what you're proposing, you're gonna need a crew." Milo said as Whitmore hook his cane on his left foot dragging him with him.
"Taken crew off." Whitmore said tripping Milo off his feet.
"You'll need engineers and... and geologists." Milo said.
"Got 'em all." Whitmore stated revealing several files of some people. "Best of the best. "Gaetan Moliere, geology and excavation. The man has a nose for dirt." The file showed Moliere or Mole for short as French, late 30's, thick coat, small mustache, and a helmet with a goggles and a lamp. "Vincenzo Santorini, demolitions. Busted him out of a Turkish prison." Vincenzo or Vinny for short is shown as Italian, black hair, and in a prison uniform. "Audrey Ramirez. Don't let her age fool you. She's forgotten more about engines than you or I will ever know." Audrey is shown as a Spanish teenager girl at 15, and in an engineer outfit, black hair, brown eyes. 7 other files showed a half-African-half-Native American, tall muscular man. An elderly woman with white hair by the name, Packard. A mid-aged man, tall and muscular. And the last 5 were those of a team, 2 of them were brothers, one with brown eyes and brown hair, spiky at the front, the older brother with blue eyes and blonde hair. A Spanish woman with brown hair in a ponytail, gray eyes, an African American woman with brown eyes, black afro, and lastly an averaged height man, orange hair with an ivy cap on backwards, light blue eyes, freckles and a bit of facial hair. "They're the same crew that brought the Journal back."
"Where was it?" Milo asked getting up and fixed his glasses.
"Iceland." Whitmore answered showing a photograph of the crew, including Helga, with Thaddeus and the recent discovered Journal.
"I knew it!" Milo beamed. "I knew it!"
"All we need now is an expert in gibberish." Whitmore stated. "So it's decision time. You can build on the foundation your grandfather left you... or you can go back to your boiler room."
Milo then dropped into the chair completely stunned.
"This is for real." Milo said.
"Now you're catching on." Whitmore said.
"All right. OK." Milo said. "I-I-I'll have to quit my job."
"It's done." Whitmore said. "You resigned this afternoon."
"I did?" Milo blinked.
"Yep." Whitmore said. "Don't like to leave loose ends."
"Um, my apartment." Milo said. "I have to give notice."
"Taken care of." Whitmore said trimming the left side of his beard.
"My clothes?"
"Packed." Whitmore placed his scissors in his pocket.
"My books?"
"In storage." Whitmore squeezed some breath freshener.
"My cat?" Milo said.
Then a white short-haired Persian cat appeared behind Milo on his shoulder and meowed.
"My gosh." Milo said stroking his cat as she purred.
"Your granddad had a saying." Whitmore said getting up and went over to Milo. "'Our lives are remembered by the gifts we leave our children.'" He hands Milo the Journal. "This journal is his gift to you, Milo. Atlantis is waiting." He held a coat. "What do you say?"
"I'm your man, Mr. Whitmore." Milo said taking the coat. "You will not regret this." He then placed the jacket on backwards. "Boy, I am so excited, I-I-I-I can't even hold it in."
Sometime later, a ship horn blows as Milo then threw up over the railing.
As he was on a large ship sailing somewhere across the North Atlantic.
"Carrots." Milo said. "Why is there always carrots? I didn't even eat carrots."
He then placed his left hand over his mouth almost hurling.
"Attention. All hands to the launch bay." An elderly woman's voice spoke through a speaker.
Feeling a little better, Milo grabs his bag and heads back inside of the ship.
"To whoever took the "L" from the Motor Pool sign, ha ha, we are very amused."
Milo wandered through a hanger as maintenance was being done to some trucks, and a 6-wheeled truck was being transported by cables above him. And then someone hops out of a truck.
"Excuse me?" Milo said. "I need to, uh, report in?"
"Yes, Mr. Thatch?" The figure turned to him revealing to be Helga.
"Aah!" Milo jumped a bit in surprise. "Uh, it's you!"
"Blondie, I got a bone to pick with you." An elderly man said with a beard who was also in the Iceland expedition photo as he was in a truck being lowered. And had a brown hat with a red feather.
"Hold that thought." Helga said to Milo and went over to the cook. "What is it this time, Cookie?"
"You done stuffed my wagon full to bustin' with non-essentials." Cookie said. "Look at all this..." He grabbed a crate. "...cinnamon, oregano, cilantro. What in the cockadoodle is is cilantro?" He tossed away the crate and then grabs a ball of lettuce. "And what is this?"
"That would be lettuce." Helga said.
"Lettuce?" Cookie exclaimed. "Lettuce?!"
"It's a vegetable, Cookie." Helga said. "The men need the 4 basic food groups."
"I got your 4 basic food groups!" Cookie said holding out 4 fingers. "Beans, bacon, whisky, and lard!"
Then a warning alarm was sounded.
"All right, cowboy." Helga said shoving the lettuce to Cookie. "Pack it up and move it out." She then walked off.
"Attention. All hands to the launch bay. Final loading in progress."
Crew members assigned for the expedition headed off along with some trucks, and Milo followed them as they stopped. And then an elevator starts and they were all lowered down.
They soon reached the lower deck to the launch bay, and in a large pool was the submarine he seen as a model. But at life-size at 382 feet long, and 18,750 tons of armored steel. The Ulysses was held up by 8 chains as trucks and other vehicles were being loaded inside.
Milo stared at the submarine in amazement as then a cart holding some crates of explosives bumped into him, he turns and saw it was Vinny.
"Hey, Junior." Vinny said in an Italian accent, black hair and mustache, and black sweater, armor plating and green jeans and match in his mouth. "If you're lookin' for the pony rides... they're back there." He then heads off.
"Excuse me. Excuse me? You dropped your dy-dy-dy-dynamite." Milo said and stuttered holding a dynamite was has fallen out. "Heh heh heh." He nervously laughed as Vinny came back. "What else have you, uh, got in there?"
"Oh, eh, gunpowder, nitroglycerin, notepads, fuses, wicks, glue, and paper clips." Vinny said. "Big ones." He held his hands a foot apart. "You know, just, office supplies." He then heads off.
"Milo! Whitmore's voice called out. "Where you been?"
Milo turns and saw Whitmore in a blue jacket and hat, and with him was the tall, muscular man from the photograph who held out the Journal and dressed in a commander's uniform. And as well as the group of 5, the brown eyed-brown haired brother was dressed in a green shirt, jeans. His older brother, in a blue shirt and jeans. The Spanish woman in a yellow sweater and blue jeans, the African American woman in a red shirt, yellow jeans. And lastly, the orange-hair man in a light gray sweater and and red-plaid jeans and blue colored ivy cap on backwards.
"I want you to meet Commander Rourke." Whitmore said. "He led the Iceland team that brought the Journal back. And meet Wild Kratts teams, Chris and Martin Kratt, Aviva Corcovado, Koki and Jimmy Z. World travelers and animal experts."
"Milo Thatch." Rourke said and shook Milo's hand. "Pleasure to meet the grandson of old Thaddeus. I see you got that journal. Nice pictures, but... I prefer a good western myself."
"Wow, it's a real pleasure to meet you at last, Milo." Chris said. "Thaddeus told us about you. He joined us for 2 years around the world before he passed. And been to every continent, even becoming some of the first explorers to reach Antarctica."
"We even made it to the South Pole." Martin said and shows a photograph of them with Thaddeus at the South Pole as an Emperor Penguin stood by them.
"And what do you think?" Aviva said gesturing to the submarine. "The Ulysses. Designed her myself."
"Pretty impressive, eh?" Whitmore said nudging Milo.
"Boy, when you settle a bet, y-you settle a bet." Milo said following them as the trucks continue loading into the Ulysses.
"Well, you're granddad always believed you couldn't put a price on the pursuit of knowledge." Whitmore said.
"Well, uh, believe me, this'll be small change compared to the value of what we're gonna learn on this trip." Milo said.
"Yes, this should be enriching for all of us." Rourke said.
"Attention, all personnel. Launch will commence in 15 minutes."
"Time to head down." Koki said.
"Mr. Whitmore." Rourke said bidding him farewell.
"Rourke." Whitmore saluted.
Milo quickly followed Rourke and the Wild Kratts.
"It's time." Rourke said.
"Bye, Mr. Whitmore!" Milo said.
"Make us proud, boy!" Whitmore said.
The door was then closed.
"Rig ship for dive!" A diving officer said.
A sailor closed a hatch and locks it.
"Aye, sir! Rig ship for dive." Chief of the Watch said.
"Commander, all watertight hatches are closed, ready for launch." Aviva announced.
"Lieutenant, take her down." Rourke ordered.
"Diving officer, submerge the ship." Helga ordered. "Make the depth 1-5-0."
"Make the depth 1-5-0."
Crew members begin to prepare the ship as one pushed a lever, and another pulled a lever.
"Dive, dive! 5 degrees down bubble."
A crew member turns a handle a few turns, and turns a value.
"Take us down." A diving officer said.
"Release chains." Koki called out.
A warning alarm buzzes as the hooked chains then released the Ulysses and it drops into the water. And Whitmore watched as he gave a thumbs up, and kept his fingers cross with high hopes.
The Ulysses begins to descend down as trails of bubbles emerge from it's side, and it's propellers rotated as the great submarine sank further into ocean. And within it's glass sphere, Milo looks out into the great blue as other crew members wandered across the decks. And the Ulysses continues descending leaving trails of bubbles in it's wake as it's side lights turn on as it sank further into darker water.
Inside, Milo entered a room.
"Attention. Tonight's supper will be baked beans. Musical program to follow."
Milo placed his bag on a hook and tossed his coat away and stretched. And then sighed as he then got on a bed and lays down.
"Who wrote this?"
Milo then rested his hands behind his head as he rested.
Suddenly, a scope appeared from the bunk above him, and it swiveled as it looked around. And then it was pulled back up as a bit of dirt drops down, and then a pair of hands grabbed the side of the bed as a head peaked down. And then Milo saw the figure as he turns a lamp on his helmet and caused him to jump and banged his head on the top of the bed.
"Aah!" Milo exclaimed and placed a hand over his head.
"You have disturbed the dirt." The figure said narrowing his eyes.
"Uh, pardon me?" Milo frowned rubbing his head.
"You have disturbed the dirt!" The figure jumped down as Milo backed away as the figure is revealed to be Mole. "Dirt from around the globe, spanning the centuries!" He pulled back Milo's blanket revealing several piles of dirt from different countries with flags and then gasped. "What have you done? England must never merge with France!" He used a shovel and brush gear to fix a pile.
"What's it doin' in my bed?" Milo asked.
"You asked too many questions." Mole said. "Who are you? Who sent you? Speak up!"
"Me? I'm, uh..." Milo said.
"Bah! I will know soon enough." Mole said grabbing a pair of tweezers and then grabbed Milo's left arm.
"Hey, hey, hey!" Milo said trying to pull his arm free. "Let go!"
"Do not be such a cry baby." Mole said nearing the tweezers. "Hold still." He then pluck a substance from under Milo's index fingernail. "Aha! There you are." He turns his lamp on. "Now, tell me your story my little friend." He works his headgear as the scope extend out and soon saw tiny particles. "Parchment fiber from the Nile circa 500 B.C. Lead pencil, number 2. Paint flecks of a type used in government buildings. You have a cat, short-haired Persian, 2 years old, third in a litter of 7." he switched his light off. "These are all the microscopic fingerprints of the map maker." He then licks the substance tasting it. "And linguist." He narrowed his eyes.
"Hey, how did you..." Milo wondered.
"This is an outrage!" Mole suddenly shoved Milo's bag to him and tossed his coat over him. "You must leave at once!" He then started pushing him out. "Out, out, out, out, out!"
Milo then suddenly bumped into a tall man, and lifted his coat up as Mole peaked from behind as they saw the tall half-African, half-Native American man with pants on and a towel around his shoulder as he recently had a shower.
"Uh-oh. Sat in the dirt, didn't you?" He said to Milo and turns to Mole. "Moliere, now what have I told you about playing nice with other kids?"
Mole about to say something in his defense when he brought a bar of soap out as he froze.
"Get back." He said. "I got soap, and I'm not afraid to use it."
He nears the soap near Mole as he then hissed like a cat.
The man then whipped Mole with his towel as he took off.
"Back, foul creature!" He said. "Back to the pit from which you came!"
Mole quickly climbed back into his bunk and hid under his blanket and grunted as he turned his lamp on revealing his eyes.
"The name's Sweet." He turned to Milo and shook his hand. "Joshua Sweet. Medical officer."
"Yeah, Milo Thatch." Milo introduced himself.
"Milo Thatch. You're my 3:00." Sweet said placing a shirt on. "Well, no time like the present." He then brought out a large saw from his bag.
"Oh, boy." Milo said with widen eyes.
"Nice, isn't it?" Sweet said. "The catalog says that this little beauty can saw through a femur in 28 seconds. I'm bettin' I can cut that time in half." He placed the saw back in his bag and held a tongue stick. "Now, stick out your tongue and say "ahh"."
"Oh, no, really, I have a... Aah." Milo said and Sweet placed the stick on his tongue examining him.
"So, where you from?" Sweet asked.
Milo only grunted.
"Really? I have family up that way." Sweet said and stuck a thermometer in Milo's mouth. "Beautiful country up there." He checked his heartbeat. "Do you do any fishing?"
Milo made a gargled speech with a shrugged expression.
"Me? I hate fishing." Sweet stated. "I hate fish. Hate the taste, hate the smell, and hate all them little bones." He then held up 2 large jars. "Here. I'm gonna need you to fill these up.
Milo then sputters the thermometer out from his mouth. "WITH WHAT?!"
"Will Milo Thatch please report to the bridge?"
"Thank you." Milo said relieved. "I mean, uh, uh, nice meeting you." He turned to Sweet heading to the doorway.
He then quickly rushed off.
"Uh-huh. Nice meeting you too." Sweet said as Mole appeared behind him.
Author's Note:
And here we are, arrival of the Wild Kratts.
And boy, that bit of soundtrack of the introduction of the Ulysses, and the Ulysses descending into the oceans is unbelievable. I tell ya, James Newton Howard was a great choice for the film's soundtrack.
Oh, one of my favorites in Godzilla vs Kong while watching it, was the carrier fight. And before it came out, I was not expecting MechaGodzilla.
Now, next chapter, let's just say you may notice a historical explosive reference.