The Missing Feathers
F.O.W.L Secret Base, 2006….
Scrooge inhaled desperately at he abruptly sat upright. He looked down and around. He groaned. Ah, of course he was tied to a blasted chair.
Scrooge wracked his brain, trying to remember what had happened. Word had gotten out that F.O.W.L was conducting some sort of test on a new super-weapon. With these being the only details known of their villainous plots, he and Agent 22 had been called into action, not knowing exactly what they'd find.
And what they had found, apparently, had been knockout gas. Lots of it. Judging by the position of the sun out the nearest red-tinted window, several hours had passed since they'd arrived and promptly lost consciousness.
"22! Psst! Bentina? Anyone?"
There was no response. Then, Scrooge heard the low, dark chuckle of-
"Black Heron." He realized. "What have you done with Agent 22?"
"Oh, nothing." She dismissed. "Like, seriously nothing. She escaped the gas and leapt onto a nearby plane. Eh, it doesn't matter. Who cares about one of S.H.U.S.H's top operatives when we've got you? What could be more priceless than the man who holds the key to the Papyrus of Binding? McDuck, the boss has been trying to take you out for years."
"Well, he'll just have to keep trying, won't he?" Scrooge growled, struggling against the ropes that bound him. "Curse me kilts, these are tight knots."
"You'd better believe it." She said. "Now that we have you in our possession, we're not gonna let go easy."
She slunk over and plucked a couple feathers out of his cheek. They fluttered to the floor as Scrooge flinched. "Ow! What the devil was that for?"
Black Heron simply cackled. "A demonstration of authority. You're all ours, McDuck."
"Not if we have anything to say about it!" A group of people in tight jumpsuits suddenly crashed through the ceiling, Bentina Beakley at the front.
"22!" Scrooge said. "17. 8. And 31 too. About time you lot showed up."
"Sorry, our communication lines were cut and one of our planes sunk." 17 panted, roundhouse kicking some guards that came up behind him.
"Well, still, I've seen your agents arrive in half the time for other rescue missions."
"Just shut up and let me unite you." 22 snapped.
Once he was free, Scrooge and the other agents made short work of the rest of Heron's guards. Then, 22 glanced around. "Wait. Where is she? Where's Black Heron?"
"Agent 22, we don't have time!" Gasped the young and overly eager agent 31. "The rest of F.O.W.L's forces are seconds away!"
"Right." Beakley agreed. "We can't let anyone else get captured today. Everyone, grab on!"
Everyone gripped the grappling hook she held up, and together they swung over the ocean to safety, where a nearby plane swooped them up and carried them back to HQ.
Heron waited until it was quiet, then came out of her hiding place inside her desk. "Ha! A perfect success!"
"Uh, Black Heron, ma'am, they actually got away…" One guard hesitantly pointed out from the floor.
She laughed. "Do you really think that was my plan? No, no. All I need is-wait. Where are-"
She dropped down to her hands and knees and felt around on the floor until she grasped the two feathers she had pulled from her captive's cheekbone. "Aha!"
"What? What is that?"
She grinned. "The only thing we need to succeed in our master plan."
……
Two months later….
Scrooge sighed contentedly and sipped his nutmeg tea. A night like this was rare indeed. Here he was, alone at the mansion. No businessmen trying to make deals, no thieves looking to get into his Money Bin, and no family interfering with the peace in his life. Donald and Della has set out to visit their parents on the other side of the state and wouldn't return for a few more weeks. Until then, there was no point to adventuring, and this he knew. So, for now, he could just sip his tea in silence.
Knock knock.
And, just like that, he'd jinxed it. Wonderful. With a groan, Scrooge got to his feet and grumbled all the way down the hall. Why did his butler have to die? Usually Duckworth would have handled this.
Scrooge opened the door in an angry huff, before stopping in disbelief. Agent 22, dressed neatly, grey hair in a tight bun, stood on his doorstep, bearing in her arms…..an infant. The agent looked at Scrooge pleadingly. Scrooge held out his arm and welcomed the two inside.
Once the door shut behind them, Scrooge said, "Agent 22? What are-why did-what about the mission?"
"This is my mission now." She showed him the bundle in her arms, a baby with huge, shimmering eyes and a bow on her head. The duckling turned to Scrooge and blinked slowly.
"I had brought F.O.W.L to its knees." 22 explained. "I was so close to shutting them down, once and for all. Then, in a top-secret experiment room, I found, well, her. A F.O.W.L creation. Most likely a clone or experiment of some kind. Helpless, innocent, scared. I- I wasn't sure what to do, but I knew I couldn't just leave her there. So, I abandoned the mission and opted to rescue her instead. As you can imagine, S.H.U.S.H is, well, somewhat furious. I wasn't sure where to go except to the home of my most trusted ally."
Scrooge could barely believe what he was seeing. He had seen this woman take down entire squadrons of F.O.W.L guards with her bare hands, and now here she was, tenderly cradling a child in her arms. "Oh, 22…"
"Call me Bentina now." She said. "Bentina Beakley. I can pose as your housekeeper, away from F.O.W.L's suspicion. I will raise the girl myself. I…I'm not sure what F.O.W.L wants with her, or why she was created, but I didn't want her to be used for evil purposes. I-I've named her Webbigail….after my mother."
Scrooge wiped a tear from one eye. "Oh, Bentina, of course you can stay." He chuckled. "I'll tell you, ever since Donald and Della moved on in life, I've missed the sound of troublesome children running rampant through the house." He looked down at the little baby girl, who was curiously fingering 22's favorite taser. Bentina quickly pulled it out of reach, and Webbigail crossed her arms in a pout. Scrooge laughed, really laughed, for the first time in months. "Ah, feisty young lass, isn't she? Hmm. Webbigail." He smiles and watched her contentedly, 22 by his side.
……
Three weeks later...
"We're baaack!" Della Duck sang as she waltzed through the door, accidentally dropping her duffel bag on her brother's foot. "Ooh. Sorry, Don."
"Kids!" Scrooge greeted, embracing them one by one.
"Uncle Scrooge!" Della replied. She stepped back from the embrace and collapsed on the couch. "Whew. I'll tell ya, I am ready for another high-stakes adventure."
Donald sat down next to her. "Me too."
"What, Hortense's place wasn't any fun?" Scrooge wondered (with a little bit of hope in his voice.)
"Don't get us wrong. Mom's great, she's just a little…"
"Webbigail! Webby! Webby, get back here!"
Beakley came rushing into the room, hot on the trail of a little duckling in a pink dress who was holding a pair of sharp scissors. The baby jumped onto Donald, who narrowly avoided being stabbed in the eye. Beakley reached them. "I'm so sorry, Donald. Here." She made to grab the child. Della grabbed her instead. "Aw! Who's this cutie? Oh, hey, 22."
"This is Webbigail Vanderquack, my-um-granddaughter." Beakley lied. "I promised her family I'd raise her."
"Aww! Don, look at her!" Della squeezed Webby tightly. "Cuteness times ten thousand!"
"She is very sweet." Donald agreed.
"The lass picked up walking fast, didn't she?" Scrooge remarked.
Beakley nodded. "It's almost unnatural. She's only an infant, after all. Curious…"
Della gently set Webby down. "Anyways, yeah, it was just knitting and sitting and knitting and sitting. Seriously, what is with old ladies and knitting? My husband would not have stood for that much knitting. Possibly his only not-crap quality... Aw, gosh I do not miss him. Anyways, Mom was just so over the top. I just say, 'Oh, by the way, I'm pregnant', and suddenly it's all, 'Oh, gracious! Della, you should sit down and not move or adventure at all for at least a year!' Heh. Moms, am I right?"
Della's family gaped at her. Webbigail played happily with a priceless statuette on the floor. Della noticed the stunned silence and awkwardly continued. "Oh, right! I didn't tell you guys. Yeah, I'm expecting eggs in a few months, so…"
The others remained speechless. Then, Donald jumped out of his seat and cried, "WHAT? That jerk left you heartbroken and with eggs? Oh, boy, if I ever get my hands on him….Are you okay?"
"Oh, yeah. I'm fine. Totally fine. And, look on the bright side: you'll be uncles! Well, Scrooge'll be a double uncle, I guess." Della said to them. The two others paused at this. They glanced at each other.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Asked Donald skeptically.
"Yes, Don! I'm fine!"
"Della, lass, let me get this straight: you're to be a mother?" Scrooge asked.
She nodded. "Sometime this spring."
Donald and Scrooge immediately hugged her and didn't let go for some time. Webby joined them, not really understanding what was happening.
……
The next morning, Mrs. Beakley was washing dishes while Webbigail sat in her high-chair. Beakley was bending down to put a plate in the dishwasher when a shrill voice spoke.
"Granny, what does that lady mean by 'she has eggs?'"
Beakley's eyes widened and she dropped the plate. "W-Webby? You're…speaking. Fluently."
She nodded. "I've been listening to you and the top hat man speak for a few months now. I think I've got the hang of it." Her voice was garbled and hard to understand, like the voices of all toddlers, yet still comprehensible as articulate English.
"But that..that's impossible! You can't be more than half a year old! You should be speaking words, not fully constructed sentences!"
Webby glanced down sadly. "Did I do something wrong?"
Bentina smiled and lifted the girl into her arms. "No, darling. I was just….surprised, is all. Now, then. What did you ask me earlier?"
"Oh, I was just wondering what that lady meant by 'she has eggs.'"
Bentina smiled again. "All it means is that she is going to be a mother soon. Her eggs will hatch into children, just like you."
"Was I an egg once, Granny?"
22 paused. "Well, I suppose you were. Then again, I'm not completely sure. I wasn't there for you when you needed me the most."
Webby snuggled against her. "It's okay, Granny. You're here now, and you're my granny, and I love you."
Beakley was overcome. Quietly weeping, she held the child close to her. "Yes…..I….I am your grandmother, Webbigail. And I love you too."
……
As everyone pretty much expected, in the months up to Della laying her eggs, the mansion became increasingly chaotic. Donald was there constantly fussing over his sister and telling her what to eat and to rest frequently, Scrooge was giving her occasional reminders to rest frequently, and both uncle and brother spent their spare time looking up info on Della's ex, (such as where he lived and how heavily guarded his house was.) Della was constantly telling them to knock it off, and Beakley and Webby were just sort of there.
One morning in late summer, Della came kicking the front door down. "Three boys! Triplets! Due in three weeks!"
"What?" Scrooge put down his newspaper, startled.
Donald ran up to him and shook his shoulders. "We just found out the genders. Three boys, Scrooge! Three nephews! They're almost here!"
"Bless me bagpipes, that's wonderful!" Scrooge exclaimed. "Three new nephews in my mansion; I cannae believe it!"
Della was grinning from ear to ear. "I'm so excited, guys! Will I be a good mom? Do you think I'll be a good mom? Oh, man, I just wanna do a backflip right now!"
Donald stopped her. "No. You are going to sit down."
"Aw, come on, Don. Just one little flip?"
"No." Donald led her to a couch and forcibly sat her down. "You need rest. So do the boys."
"Phooey." Della growled. She smiled. "Eh, I guess I can do that for them."
Just a couple weeks later, the eggs arrived. Della and Donald came down the stairs, cautiously carrying them in a weird makeshift basket made of sheets. "Easy. Easy." Donald urged.
"Bro, please, I think I know to carry my own kids." Della said.
"Erm, Della, lass, are you sure you should be lifting at all?" Scrooge called out. "Aren't you at least a little tired after that…ordeal?"
"No, no." She said, slurring her words a little. "I can carry a few eggs that I already carried for months, Uncle Scrooge! I am perfectly energized! Nothing can stop Della Duck!" She collapsed onto the staircase.
Donald hastily grabbed the side of the sheet that she had been holding. Scrooge gasped and hurried to his niece's side. She suddenly popped up again. "Nothing can stop Dell…De….ugh, wow. I need me some caffeine. Anyone got a two-liter Pep?"
Before Donald or Scrooge could protest, Beakley came out with a two-liter cherry Pep.
"She's fine, she says." The housekeeper shrugged as Della chugged the entire bottle. After only a few seconds, she slammed the bottle to the floor and stood up again. "Alright. Eggs. Stairs. Let's do this."
She and her brother slowly brought the eggs down to the nest they had set up weeks before and set them painstakingly inside. Della smiled proudly and pointed to each egg individually.
"That's Jet, Rebel, and feisty little Turbo."
"Too edgy. What about Hubert?" Donald proposed. Della looked at him in disbelief. "Please, no."
"They're beautiful, lassie." Scrooge said, coming to the other side of the nest. "And, as you've proven yourself to be such a great pilot, I may just build you that rocket you've been wanting once these wee ones have hatched." He murmured in her ear.
"Are you serious?" Della beamed. Tears came to her eyes. She reached over and hugged her uncle, them her brother, then the trio of eggs in the nest. "Oh, my boys. Once you hatch, I'll give you the stars." She began to sing, very softly: "Face each new sun with eyes clear and true…"
Beakley retreated into the shadows to observe the family moment. Webby tugged on her skirt and asked, "Granny, once Della's boys are here, will they be my brothers?"
"Well…not…exactly…"Beakley stammered. But once she saw the look in her granddaughter's eyes, she stopped and simply nodded. "Yes, Webby. They can be your brothers if you want them to be."
Webby smiled almost as widely as the young mother, who was still tenderly stroking her children across the room.
"Unafraid of the unknown, because I'll face it all…with you."
"I can't wait to have brothers." The young girl said.
Beakley squeezed her hand. She glanced up at a row of portraits and photos hanging on the wall. "You really are an extraordinary child, Webbigail." She said. "The triplets will be lucky to have a big sister like you. You're articulate. Sharp. Smart. And very…tough." Beakley realized something. She glanced up at a small, very old portrait and moved closer to it. It was of a young Mr. McDuck. She glanced then at Webby, then the portrait, then back to Webby. She gasped.
I can't believe I didn't see it before…
What is it, Granny?" Webby wondered.
Bentina caught her breath. "Nothing, dear. Nothing at all…."
It's worse than I feared. Webby is their top secret weapon. I'll have to run some tests to be sure, but if I'm right…. if F.O.W.L ever got their hands on her again….
No. They won't. I will protect her with my life. Or die trying.
……