Santa Ana, California – present day
Mallory pulled up to an alley, about a block away from the green blip on her duckcycle's monitor. She switched off the engine and quickly took the rest of the trip on foot. It was dark out, but traffic was still pretty steady throughout downtown.
The building itself was unremarkable, but it had a large fence around its spacious perimeter, leaving only one way in and out.
At least, that was what they led you to believe.
Mallory bypassed the main entrance, where two guards were posted in a well-lit area. She stayed back away from the glow of the street lamps and circled around to the rear of the building.
Sure enough, there was another, albeit smaller, entrance for shipments. It too was well-lit, however, and had a guard posted on duty.
Mallory looked up and noticed a few patios dispersed among the levels of the twenty-story building. Making a quick calculation in her head, she turned and made her way into the smaller building across the street from Adder Telecommunications.
The Pond
"Oh, just like home sweet home," Falcone facetiously commented, walking around the new cell he found himself in and pretending to admire it. "This one is so much larger, too—fantastic!"
Secured in the ducks' temporary containment along the lowest level, Duke and Tanya stepped out of earshot of the cell, but made sure to stay close enough to where they could see Falcone. Neither responded to his quips.
"He shouldn't be left a-alone," Tanya emphasized, her arms crossing over herself.
"I'll stay," Duke agreed. "I need to figure out what 'is game is, 'nyways."
Tanya looked worried, however, and fully turned to the ex-thief. "But y-you said this was a trap," she argued. "Is that, uh, a good idea?"
Duke brought an arm to her shoulder. "Angel, we don't gotta choice. If he is workin' with Viper, d'en we 'ave do what we can to 'elp da others."
The blonde duck sighed, glancing back down at the bag of broken transporter parts still in her hand. "I guess I'll see if, uh, miracles do exist, and extract what I can."
Out of the corner of his eye, Duke saw that Falcone had walked up to the edge of the cell and was watching them through the force field. He smiled ruefully in their direction.
The gray mallard glared at him, causing Tanya to frown and turn to look at the prisoner, as well.
"You know," Falcone called over to them loudly, "you two make a lovely couple."
"See what ya can do, Angel," Duke said to Tanya, ignoring Falcone's words but never taking his eyes off the Raptrin. "I'll deal with 'im."
Tanya still did not look convinced, but she nodded and walked down the hallway to her laboratory. Duke watched her leave, waiting until the scientist had fully entered the nearby room with the door hissing shut behind her.
"Ah, alone at long last," Falcone commented, his hands intertwining together. He brought them up next to his face like he was besotted with the ex-thief.
Duke crossed his arms, his stare unwavering. "We know Viper is in on d'is," he said evenly. "What did he promise ya d'hat was worth riskin' yer way home?"
Falcone was silent, though, and the two Brotherhood members simply stared at one another. A long, rocky history between the pair managed to—some extent—keep most of their communication with one another wordless.
Eventually, however, the Raprin smiled. "You know, you and I didn't talk much after our first rendezvous on this beakless planet." Avoiding Duke's question entirely, he instead stepped back and slowly took in his cell. "You knew Dragaunus brought me here, of course, but … did you ever ask yourself why that was?" He stopped, glancing once more at the gray mallard.
"I assumed d'hat's where ya went durin' da war," Duke admitted honestly. "You always looked out fer number one, didn't ya?"
"But of course, ol' lad," Falcone agreed. "When your choices are a Resistance ran by the Council, living in an apocalyptic world with no resources, or being captured and enslaved, one must make a, hmm … an alternative path." His hand started to trace the wall gently as he walked.
"You betrayed yer own to be a slave to Dragaunus. Sounds like ya picked option three ta me," Duke debated, staying stark still as he studied the Raptrin. An uneasy feeling began to settle into the ex-thief, however, and his senses suddenly went on high alert.
Falcone chuckled. "You're not entirely wrong, my old friend. Sacrifices were inevitable." He continued tracing the walls, his eyes almost searching the interior of his containment. "I did a lot of things I'm not proud of."
"I'm shocked. Really," Duke deadpanned.
"Oh, but you don't understand," the Raptrin quipped back, his gaze returning to Duke. "There was no turning back from a contract with Dragaunus."
"I don't doubt d'hat," the gray mallard stated, "but you made yer choice." A noise, small but noticeable, distracted him for only a second. He returned his attention to Falcone and added, "Just like whatever deal you made wit' Viper was."
"Phineas Viper sought me out, actually," Falcone revealed, his arms locking behind his back as he finished making a full perimeter sweep of his jail. He faced Duke, then, standing casually while the gray mallard kept his arms tightly crossed. "I will admit, when we met last year, I had already made my deal with him."
Duke could not hide his sharp intake of breath at that. All the pieces of the puzzle were slowly falling into place, his mind whirling as he tried to maintain composure in front of the Raptrin.
"When Dragaunus brought me here, I was provided a teleporter with the coordinates back home."
Falcone never had a working transporter. He had made a pact with Viper and conned Duke.
"You told me I always had an out!"
The Brotherhood members had made an agreement years ago: Duke's bionic eye in return for a promise to Falcone … a promise of freedom. Duke had been held accountable for that promise when he visited the Raptrin in Britain's underground detention center, and was indirectly asked to let Falcone escape once they got back on Puckworld.
He believed that Falcone had a working transporter, and he had been prepared to follow through on his end of the bargain, if it meant getting his team back to Puckworld.
The building of the gateway generator went into full swing after that, Falcone's offer inadvertently motivating Tanya and Buzz.
"You look a little pale under the feathers there, Duke," Falcone interrupted the ex-thief's thoughts. "I guess I still have a few primo deceit skills after all, if I was able to stoop the leader of the Blade, yes?"
It was a rhetorical question, but Duke couldn't stop the growl that escaped. "Bravo, Ernie," he said. "Viper gets his gateway generator. That doesn't explain what you got outta d'his deal."
"How did you put it?" Falcone asked, his eyes going up to the ceiling in thought. "Looking out for number one, was it?" He returned his gaze to Duke, grinning maliciously. "It was a very fair deal, I assure you."
A small, almost imperceptible, cursory glance from the Raptrin alerted Duke of another presence in the hallway, but it was too late.
Blinding hot pain seared into the back of his left shoulder, his other hand instinctively coming up to feel that a blade had fully penetrated through his flesh, coming out just below his collar bone. The world was spinning and he fell to his knees, unable to do much else.
With a sickening swish, the blade left his body and Duke fell to his stomach. Black boots idly clicked on the hard floor, stopping just by his face. Slowly looking up as the figure squatted down, Duke saw Lucretia DeCoy tilting her head at him.
"Sorry about that, honey," she mocked, "but Mr. Viper was very generous with his snake poison."
The gray mallard could not respond to Lucretia. His entire body was slowly going numb, and his tongue felt heavy in his mouth, enough to where he had to focus to not choke on it. His breathing was strenuous, like his lungs could no longer function without extreme concentration.
Lucretia petted his head briefly before standing back up. "Let's go pay a visit to Ms. Vanderflock, shall we?"
Falcone grinned at her, nodding. Glancing back at Duke he gushed, "Isn't she just fantastic?"
Santa Ana, California
Mallory had successfully used the smaller building across the street to rappel to one of the balconies along Adder Telecommunications. And, thanks to picking up a few tricks of the trade from Duke, it didn't take too much work to pick the lock on the door to get inside.
She'd entered somebody's office, and from the looks of the place it seemed pretty genuine. A framed family photo was on the desk, and little knickknacks of memories of the past were scattered across the bookshelves lining the far wall.
That meant that this place was at least partially a true business. Mallory quickly made her way to the main hall beyond another door, keeping an eye out for cameras. She was on level three, and aimed to go up: Tanya had managed to download the original blueprints of the building, and there didn't seem to be any underground levels that could hide Viper's new lair.
She hoped that the upper levels might prove to be more rewarding.
Her COM lightly buzzed again, and she silenced it by pressing a button on the side. She wasn't going to be any help to the team if she got caught, and by now she'd gone too far to wait for them.
The redhead traversed the hallway silently, sticking to the shadows and keeping a hand on her holstered puck-launcher.
Rounding a corner, she quickly backtracked when she saw a guard—his back to her—heading down the same path and most likely doing a routine patrol. She peered around the wall carefully, watching him until he made a turn down another hallway. She took a quiet breath and followed him.
She stopped about midway, however, when she found the door she was looking for. Carefully opening it, a sigh of relief escaped when it did not squeak. Taking a quick glance inside, she entered the stairwell and made her way up.
Mallory managed to make it up to the second highest level of the building, before the stairs stopped suddenly on what looked to be the nineteenth floor. There was no emergency access to the top level nor the roof, and the redhead quickly concluded that was where Viper's new hideout was.
Unfortunately, the only way up would've been the elevator at this point, and that'd be essentially pointing a gun to Mallory's head.
She walked around the level below Viper's presumed headquarters, surprised to not have come across any other guards. This place, like the remaining floors below, were all legitimate offices and labs, it seemed.
Had the top level not been inaccessible by stairs, Mallory would've started thinking that this was a bad lead, after all. But when she peered around a corner she noticed a separate elevator across the way, guarded by two very large, very armed men.
Bingo.
She turned away and looked up. Unlike the other floors of the building, the ceiling here was not suspended with flimsy panels and cheap fluorescent lighting: it was shaped to look like it, but was actually made of a thick metal that glistened in the moonlight.
But like all ceilings, it still had ventilation ducts. Mallory made sure she was well out of earshot of the guards before standing on a desk and hoisting herself up into one.
"Well, the place ain't lit up like a Christmas tree so that means Mally got in somehow," Nosedive commented, crossing his arms.
Wildwing didn't answer him. They were parked at a reasonable distance down the street, studying the results from the Migrator as it scanned the perimeter of the area. Along with the known schematics of the building that Tanya had uploaded into their system, the scan showed where the guards were currently, at least on the outside.
They would need to get closer, however, for Wildwing to use the Mask and see what was housed inside.
"Silence is not empty. It is full of answers," Grin stated. "Mallory may find those answers faster if we assist in … keeping her silence."
The brothers were quiet. Nosedive looked back at Grin like he'd grown another head, while Wildwing stared at the tall building that supposedly housed Viper's new headquarters.
"Grin … what?"
"A distraction," Wildwing answered for him, his eyes still scouting ahead. He took a deep breath, mulling the idea over. His hand absently went to his COM, and he glanced at it, wishing—not for the first time—that she'd answer his calls.
Nosedive was watching Wildwing, and when the team captain glanced at his kid brother, a silent agreement was made between them. The white drake stood up and switched seats with the teenager, who started the Migrator back up.
"Time to par-tay!" the young duck declared, gunning the engine. With a squeal of tires, the group sped down the street, toward the entrance to Adder Telecommunications.
Puckworld – ten months into the Saurian War
Falcone let out a long breath, watching from the roof of a deserted building as some Resistance members slowly infiltrated a nearby Monitor Tower.
His transporter, attached to his belt, buzzed. He swallowed heavily and hesitantly pulled it out. "Yes, Lord Dragaunus," he said, keeping his voice low. A blizzard was set to make its way through the city in the next few hours, and the calm before the storm had made the area an unnaturally quiet wasteland.
"Where is the traitor," Dragaunus growled through the receiver.
The Raptrin brought his binoculars up, peering through them at the side entrance to the large tower. Debris scattered its perimeter, as the warship itself had blown up multiple commercial buildings before landing in their remnants. A group of figures, heavily cloaked by the dusk of the evening, were slowly making their way inside.
Among them was an Old Ways Worshipper, a spy pretending to be a soldier.
Wraith had already transformed hundreds of ducks to do his bidding over the past year. All it took was a little persuasion in the beginning, usually of the torturous variety, and freshly captured ducks were at the mercy of either death or enslavement by magic.
That magic, of course, came with a hefty price.
"He is leading them to the eastern entrance," Falcone answered his Overlord. He paused, squinting as he carefully watched their movements. "It appears a couple are falling back, most likely to keep watch."
Dragaunus chuckled, and through the receiver it was a vile sound.
"Good," he replied. "Once they are inside, inform the traitor to trigger the alarm on their way out."
"Out, sir?" Falcone asked, perplexed.
There was a snort, enough to where Falcone could instantly visualize the smoke rising from the Saurian's nostrils. "Do not question my intentions, duck. They are here for information, so let them think they are successful. The falsified chemical reaction will destroy their labs, along with everything within a kilometer radius."
"Yes, my Lord," the Raptrin responded quietly.
The line went dead.
Using his transporter, he typed the necessary commands in and executed them. A billow of purple smoke rose up out of the contraption and floated upwards. Falcone calmly watched as it suddenly shot away lightning fast, down towards the Monitor Tower. For anyone not trained in the Old Ways magic, it would be nothing more than a gust of wind. For the traitor below, however, it would be a mental message in his head, with the same instructions Dragaunus had demanded.
A chilly wind caught under his cape, forcing Falcone to pull it tight against him as he hunkered down along the edge of the crumbling rooftop. It had been six long months of coordinating the capture of soldiers and civilians alike, turning them over to Wraith for either execution or Old Ways' initiation, along with the arduous task of sabotaging every planned infiltration of the growing Resistance.
He'd watch so many ducks lose their minds to the dark magic of Wraith's ancestors, slowly destroying them from the inside out the more they used the powers they were hopelessly addicted to.
They were intentionally instructed poorly on how to use their newfound abilities, and in return only lasted a few months before they literally sucked the list bit of energy out of their bodies to perform a spell.
A lucky few would learn how to pull energy from the atmosphere, and more readily from others, as the magic was originally intended to be used. Of course, once the Saurians caught wind of their new understanding, they would quickly bring an end to it.
Falcone let out another long breath, watching as it condensed in the cold atmosphere. He idly wondered where Lucretia was, and if she'd been tasked with these same menial jobs. Despite his best efforts, it was hard not to feel his apathy being slowly chipped away at, as he coordinated the downfall of hundreds—if not thousands—of ducks.
He had hoped that his transporter would have provided him a way to escape both the War and the Saurians. The plan had been to perform a few jobs, become trustworthy in the Saurians' eyes, and then escape at the first opportunity.
But Dragaunus was no fool. The transporter had been linked to him by blood, and might as well have been a ball and chain. If he destroyed it, he'd become a target for every drone on Puckworld.
If he left it somewhere, whether accidentally or intentionally, it would self-destruct, which would make him a target.
And if someone else tried to use it—if they initiated the binding sequence by getting their finger pricked on the device—then Falcone would, once again, be enemy number one.
The transporter listened to him at all times. Breathing even a hint of rebellion to the empty air would trigger an alarm. He had clean amenities and was well fed, but he was just as much a slave as the ones mining beryllium, or the ones drowning in dark rituals and spells.
He supposed he was worse, though, with the amount of ducks he had indirectly—or directly—led to their deaths.
A part of Falcone wanted to be angry at Lucretia, but she was no different than him. He had sought her out, and she had been forced to keep the real meaning of the contract secret. He had ultimately brought this upon himself, and the only way he was going to get out of it was to either steal a spaceship or silently root for the Resistance to bring an end to this War.
Explosions down below captured Falcone's attention. He watched, expressionless, as the group of ducks fought the air drones that were released, and with binoculars was able to see the traitor as he used his magic to betray his own brethren.
The yells and laser shots were painfully sharp in the silent night air. Falcone turned away from the ensuing battle, opting to watch the hazy night sky instead. He would need to make plans to steal a Saurian ship soon.
This War had already been lost long ago.
