Dangerous Games: Checkmate
By Tinselcat
Rated: PG-13
Summary: Things build up to a peak. . .
Disclaimer: St. Canard, DarkwingDuck, Gosalyn, Launchpad, Steelbeak, Bushroot, Spike and Negaduck are all property and creations of Disney and are used without permission. Dr. Kamo Quack and Investigator Rollins are creations and property of myself.
Note: I realize that I've been terrible about updating this story, but this is the second-to-last chapter, and it's almost over! I'm sorry I'm so lazy. But I promise it won't take me as long to post the next chapter as it did to post this one! Honest!
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Drake groaned and flopped over in bed as the ring of his cell phone ripped into his sleep. He thrust his pillow over his head, but the last remnants of sleep were already dissolving, and the phone continued to ring. Squinting, he fumbled for the phone, seeing just enough to tell that the sun hadn't come up yet, although the sky had begun to pale from a rich, dark blue to a cold, steel gray.
"mmmnnng?" he grumbled into the phone after pulling it under the covers with him.
"'Ey. 'ello? Is dis Darkwing?"
"Steelbeak?"
"Wat's it to ya?"
". . .What?"
"Eh. . . er. . . sorry 'bout dat, instinct y'know. Look, I found some'tin funky."
"What time is it?"
"I dunno. Like 4 or 5. Look, ya wanna solve yer damn case or not? Shut up an' listen t'me." Drake heard the rooster take a breath on the other end, "I was lookin' over some stuff about dat damn Dr. White. Turns out he's a collegue of a scientist who was a former associate of dat Dr. Quack. 'Is name is Dr. Otis."
Darkwing Duck sat up so fast his head swam and he fell back on the pillows, rubbing a temple, "What did you just say?"
"Dr. Otis. Dis guy was working wid Dr. White shortly before 'e skipped the country."
"Are you talking about the Dr. Otis who completed the work on the space shuttle? The Dr. Otis who pioneered the new kinetic-energy recycling engine? That Dr.Otis?"
"One an' da same, dip-shit."
Drake made ready to give a snappy retort, but decided it was too much trouble and gave a long-suffering sigh instead. "Is that all?" sneered Drake, "Otis and White worked together? Big deal. They're both scientists, that's what scientists do."
"Do scientists always follow each othah around?"
"What?" Drake sat up, his brows furrowing.
He heard a dull banging from the other side of the wall and the muffled voice of his daughter telling him to shut up.
"Da fact of da mattah is, for every project dat Quack 'as been on since 'er college days, Otis 'as joined eventually. Shortly aftah, she leaves the project, and it's completed wid'out 'er. Dey went to da same college. Looks like it started there. I'm findin' at least seven different projects dat they've both woiked on. Da last majah project dat was completed happened five years ago, after which Quack started to woik fer da University, keeping low-profile. So dis is 'ow it goes: Quack starts it out wid a team, Otis comes onto da team, and anywhere from a week to two months latah, she leaves wid'out explainin'."
"So. . ." Drake rubbed his chin, "It looks like an explaination is in order! And what better job for. . . DARKWING DUCK!!" he stabbed a finger into the air.
"Daaaaaaad! Do you even know what *time* is is?" Gosalyn banged on the wall several more times.
Drake covered the receiver, "Sorry honey, go back to sleep."
He heard a low "yeah right. . ." before the creak of her mattress and rustle of her covers.
"One more t'ing." Said Steelbeak.
"What?" Drake was careful to keep his voice low, lest his daughter decide to make use of her new baseball bat.
"Dere's a big reunion dinnah fer da contributers and financers fer da space shuttle. Otis is gonna be dere, according to da guest list. You want I should get my boys together and-"
"No!" hissed Drake, "What are you thinking? This is what we'll do: can you get on the guest list?"
"Can Negaduck use illegal explosives? Of course I can!" scoffed Steelbeak.
"Good. Go to the party and keep open communication with me. I'll be hiding out nearby. Try to talk to Otis and find out what's going on with him and Quack."
"In dat case, I should take a couple 'a my boys ta-"
"No! Nothing like that!"
"I suppose I'll just 'ave ta break out da heat on 'is ass. . ."
"No! No guns! Just. . . just find out what's going on! That's it! No kneecap-breaking, know finger-removing, just a nice, quiet chat!"
"Jeez, it ain't no wondah you ain't got no goilfriend."
Drake sputtered indignantly, "What. . . what. . . how would you know?"
"Aw come on, Dope-wing. Ya really t'ink a guy who was getting any would be out fightin' crime every single night? Jeez. Get laid, you'd be less of an ass'ole."
"This conversation is over!" huffed Drake, hanging up the phone over Steelbeak's classic snigger.
*******************8
Dr. Otis straightened his tie in the decorative mirror outside the hotel ballroom and smoothed down the fur between his ears. *Looking handsome, as always*. He thought to himself. *Charismatic, too* These financiers were already in his pocket, and the new ones would be soon. He spied Dr. White cowering in the shadows.
"What are you doing here? You realize that half the people here will recognize you?"
Dr. White mopped his forehead with his over-used handkerchief, his head swerving back and forth as he scurried forward and crouched behind a potted plant beside the mirror. "Bad news Otis. . ." he started, his eyes shifting.
"What have you screwed up now?" growled Otis, narrowing his brown eyes at themselves.
"We've, uh, we've lost track of Dr. Quack. . ." he flinched impulsively as he spoke.
"You've WHAT?" Otis quickly composed himself as he drew a few curious glances from the well-dressed attendees to the ball. He ducked behind the plant next to White and grabbed the front of the quaking duck's shirt, "How did this happen?" he snarled.
"Our, er, our man was following her towards the dock district and. . . he, ah, he lost her. I've sent all our agents to sweep the area, but it's been forty-five minutes and they've seen nothing. We've lost contact with two of them, and the other five are getting nervous . . . they, ahem, they want to pull out."
"You stupid, blundering moron!" hissed Otis, a wild look in his eyes, "Tell them I'll have their guts nailed to my office bulletin board if they don't find her!"
"But. . . the two agents. . ."
"I don't give a damn about them! If something has happened to them, it's their own damn fault! If we don't have a location on her by the end of my speech. . ." he trailed off, letting go of White's shirt and giving him a warning look. "You're lucky I'm busy tonight. It's your ass, White, if you fail me." He spun about and stalked back toward the entrance, putting on a wide smile and shaking hands with the guests he recognized.
White let out a long breath and dabbed at his face with his sleeve. He cell phone rang. "White here. What is it?"
"Three more guys have disappeared, boss." Said the voice on the other end, "Something's going down tonight, and it doesn't look like a standard-issue mugging."
"Just keep, ahem, keep going! I don't care who you have to, ah, shoot!" he hung up, panic twisting in his stomach. The last time he'd felt such extreme panic was just before he fled the country, narrowly escaping Darkwing Duck. He wondered if it wasn't time to buy a plane ticket. . .
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Steelbeak wove his way through the crowd, smiling threateningly at the curious looks directed at his beak. He waggled his eyebrows at a few ladies whose eyes swept up and down his dapper figure, but didn't approach them. If he'd had his way, Bushroot would be on his arm right now. He'd cajoled the plant-duck to the best of his charming ability, but the damn, soft- spoken botanist had Steelbeak twisted around his leafy hand, and the rooster had finally agreed that the pair of them would be too suspicious- looking in that group. Besides, more than one attendee would recognize the green duck.
Instead, Steelbeak had hacked into the hotel security cameras and set Bushroot in front of them with a one-way communication unit (another of which was held by Darkwing Duck, who was playing tic-tac-toe with Lauchpad on the Hotel's roof), which connected to Steelbeak's earpiece, to let the rooster know of any suspicious activity. So far he'd only provided a running commentary on the genus and species of the various potted plants.
Steelbeak finally spotted Otis, but cursed softly when the scientist's name was announced for the welcoming speech. He shoved his way to the front of the crowd, glaring up at Otis, hoping against hope that the speech wouldn't be long. He'd forgotten to wear his lucky glow-in-the-dark-star-printed boxer-shorts.
"Friends, collegues and esteemed guests," Dr. Otis threw a charismatic smile toward the crowd, "We stand here on the anniversary of a historic event,"
"Uh. . . Steelbeak," Bushroot's voice crackled over the communicator, "The exterior cameras are picking up something. . . something. . . really. . . uhh. . ."
It was then that Steelbeak noticed a dull thumping that was not the accumulating thunder outside. Just then Darkwing's communicator crackled to life, "My god! Steelbeak! Get out of there, its-"
Suddenly one of the walls blew inwards in a blast of fire and finished wood. People in the crowd began screaming. Otis stood on the podium, jaw open in shock. The dust cleared and what seemed like a giant phantom materialized from the cloud. Chrome and steel, rivulets of water streaming down the surface, gleamed in the light from the chandeliers. It stood on two wide feet, towering above the crowd at at least fifteen feet tall. At the top of the monstrous machine one could just make out the face of a duck with streaming blue hair, wearing a shaded visor. A disguised voice, sounding as if spoken through a metal tube, emitted from the machine, "I see Dr. Otis has everyone's attention. Always hogging the spotlight, aren't we?"
"What do you want?" Otis's voice was strained, but steady.
"Want? I want to help your publicity. After all, this should make the papers," one of the long-fingered metallic hands reached forward and before Otis could jump from the podium, snatched him up. "Smile for the reporters." Growled the voice, before the robot retreated through the hole in the wall.
"Launchpad!" yelled Darkwing from the roof, "Fire up the ThunderQuack! Quick!" They hopped aboard the stealth plane. The engines roared to life. "This maniacal machine won't escape us!"
The machine was stomping down the street.
"It can walk, but it can't. . . fly. . .?" he trailed off as jets of fire suddenly emitted from the bottom of the thing's feet and it blasted off into the sky. "Launchpad! Follow at a distance! I don't want whoever's driving that monolith to know he's being followed!"
The ThunderQuack hummed through the air, keeping the mech in sight as it headed toward the waterfront district.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Dr. Otis woke up thinking he must be hung over. Yeah, that must be it. He partied too hard at that ball, went home with some skank and got plastered. He opened his eyes. He blinked. Wherever he was, it needed better lighting. And why the hell did his wrists and ankles hurt?
"So. . . you're finally awake. Just like you to pass out at the slightest hint of danger. You always were a coward."
Otis blinked. He realized he was tied to a chair. He squinted into the darkness and could just make out a figure leaning casually against the opposite wall, in shadow, away from the dim, dead light that came through the small, high window. He peered at it. It must still be night. "Who the hell are you?"
"You can't tell? Think about it: you've woken up to the sound of my voice before. . ."
His eyes widened, "Kamo. . ." they narrowed again, "what the hell do you think you're doing? You just kidnapped a well-known and respected scientist. You'll burn for this and you know it."
" 'Well known and respected'?" she sneered as she stepped out of the shadows, wearing an odd black jumpsuit with metal attatchments on the arms legs and torso. "It should have been me!" she stabbed a finger toward herself. Her eyes were hidden behind the window's reflection in her glasses. "You. . . you took everything! Everywhere I went, everything I did, you were there! You followed me!" Her voice trembled with rage.
Otis grinned at her, delighting in infuriating her further, "So, you're still stuck on that, are you?"
"How could I not be? You followed me around and stole my work! You stole my discoveries! You stole my LIFE!" her voice cracked.
"You didn't fight me. . ."
"How could I? You're the one with the money! I couldn't possibly afford to take you to court and you knew that! So you took advantage of me time and time again!"
"So what are you going to do now? Kill me?" he sneered at her, "you'll be sending yourself to hell, too!"
"You're right, I will be." She said quietly, stepping closer to him. From her pocket she drew a small gun, "but it'll sure make me feel better. . ."
Suddenly there was a crackling boom. Kamo gave a cry of surprise as the wall with the window suddenly exploded inward. Both she and Otis coughed until the dust cleared around the dark beak of the ThunderQuack.
"Shit!" growled Quack.
"I am the terror that flaps in the night!" a sound of grunting and choking came from the ThunderQuack as the windshield/door was forced open from under the dust and debris, "I am the chemical catalyst that neutralizes your carbonic acid!" after getting his cape stuck in the door, wrenching it free only to tumble to the floor, Darkwing finally straightened himself. "I am,"
"Get her away from me! She's gone crazy!" Shouted Otis.
Darkwing's shoulders slumped. All he wanted to do was finish the damn sentence.
"Get out of here." Said Quack, pointing her gun at Otis again, "This doesn't involve you."
Darkwing produced his gas gun from his cape and aimed it at her, "Wherever injustice is being done, it is my business! As soon as you captured Dr. Otis, it became my business! Put the gun down and surrender now!"
"Injustice?" Quack said quietly, her voice trembling, "Injustice?!" she shrieked, raising her burning eyes to meet Darkwing's, "Injustice is what this asshole did to me! He stole my work! My research! All my discovieries! He took everything I was passionate about and twisted it to his own purposes!"
Darkwing glanced at Otis as the truth dawned on him. *that's why his career follows hers. . . He was taking credit for her research! And now it's come to this. . .*
Otis squirmed. Sweat shone in his fur, "She's lying! She's crazy!" His voice cracked with desperation.
"Shut up!" Quack screamed. With a click, she took the safety off her gun. Tears streamed from behind her glasses, down her light brown feathers.
Launchpad looked on from inside the ThunderQuack, hardly daring to breath lest he upset the balance of the delicate situation.
"Don't do something you'll regret, Dr. Quack!" cried Darkwing.
Quack's hand trembled. She set her jaw, glaring at Otis where he cowered.
"Don't kill me!" Otis suddenly started sobbing like a child, as he saw the light of murder in her eyes "Please don't kill me! Oh god, I don't want to die!"
"Shut up!" yelled Quack. Her finger tensed on the trigger.
"If you do this, will you be any better than him?" said Darkwing, sighting down the barrel of his gun.
She took a deep breath. Suddenly, all the tension seemed to leave her. Her arm fell, limp at her side. Her shoulders slumped, and she bowed her head.
Darkwing didn't move.
For several moments there was nothing but silence.
Quack's shoulders began to heave with repressed sobs. She suddenly looked up, through the hole in the wall, toward the sky that was still dark, the stars blotted out by the city lights. "I can't do it." She whispered. "I'm not strong enough." Her face seemed to clear and through her tears, and a slow, sad smile appeared on her beak, "but," she sighed, "I am strong enough to do this."
Darkwing's heart seemed to leap into his throat to lodge there, as Dr. Quack raised her arm and pressed the gun to her temple.
Two shots rang out into the still night and the small room filled with smoke.
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You know, I'm a real hypocrite. I hate it when people do cliffhangers like the one above, but I do it all the time. Just ask the people over at the Discworld fandom. Right now they're all ready to chop my head off. Ah, the joys of the internet: you can piss people off without putting yourself in any danger! Heh, at least, I hope so.
Rated: PG-13
Summary: Things build up to a peak. . .
Disclaimer: St. Canard, DarkwingDuck, Gosalyn, Launchpad, Steelbeak, Bushroot, Spike and Negaduck are all property and creations of Disney and are used without permission. Dr. Kamo Quack and Investigator Rollins are creations and property of myself.
Note: I realize that I've been terrible about updating this story, but this is the second-to-last chapter, and it's almost over! I'm sorry I'm so lazy. But I promise it won't take me as long to post the next chapter as it did to post this one! Honest!
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Drake groaned and flopped over in bed as the ring of his cell phone ripped into his sleep. He thrust his pillow over his head, but the last remnants of sleep were already dissolving, and the phone continued to ring. Squinting, he fumbled for the phone, seeing just enough to tell that the sun hadn't come up yet, although the sky had begun to pale from a rich, dark blue to a cold, steel gray.
"mmmnnng?" he grumbled into the phone after pulling it under the covers with him.
"'Ey. 'ello? Is dis Darkwing?"
"Steelbeak?"
"Wat's it to ya?"
". . .What?"
"Eh. . . er. . . sorry 'bout dat, instinct y'know. Look, I found some'tin funky."
"What time is it?"
"I dunno. Like 4 or 5. Look, ya wanna solve yer damn case or not? Shut up an' listen t'me." Drake heard the rooster take a breath on the other end, "I was lookin' over some stuff about dat damn Dr. White. Turns out he's a collegue of a scientist who was a former associate of dat Dr. Quack. 'Is name is Dr. Otis."
Darkwing Duck sat up so fast his head swam and he fell back on the pillows, rubbing a temple, "What did you just say?"
"Dr. Otis. Dis guy was working wid Dr. White shortly before 'e skipped the country."
"Are you talking about the Dr. Otis who completed the work on the space shuttle? The Dr. Otis who pioneered the new kinetic-energy recycling engine? That Dr.Otis?"
"One an' da same, dip-shit."
Drake made ready to give a snappy retort, but decided it was too much trouble and gave a long-suffering sigh instead. "Is that all?" sneered Drake, "Otis and White worked together? Big deal. They're both scientists, that's what scientists do."
"Do scientists always follow each othah around?"
"What?" Drake sat up, his brows furrowing.
He heard a dull banging from the other side of the wall and the muffled voice of his daughter telling him to shut up.
"Da fact of da mattah is, for every project dat Quack 'as been on since 'er college days, Otis 'as joined eventually. Shortly aftah, she leaves the project, and it's completed wid'out 'er. Dey went to da same college. Looks like it started there. I'm findin' at least seven different projects dat they've both woiked on. Da last majah project dat was completed happened five years ago, after which Quack started to woik fer da University, keeping low-profile. So dis is 'ow it goes: Quack starts it out wid a team, Otis comes onto da team, and anywhere from a week to two months latah, she leaves wid'out explainin'."
"So. . ." Drake rubbed his chin, "It looks like an explaination is in order! And what better job for. . . DARKWING DUCK!!" he stabbed a finger into the air.
"Daaaaaaad! Do you even know what *time* is is?" Gosalyn banged on the wall several more times.
Drake covered the receiver, "Sorry honey, go back to sleep."
He heard a low "yeah right. . ." before the creak of her mattress and rustle of her covers.
"One more t'ing." Said Steelbeak.
"What?" Drake was careful to keep his voice low, lest his daughter decide to make use of her new baseball bat.
"Dere's a big reunion dinnah fer da contributers and financers fer da space shuttle. Otis is gonna be dere, according to da guest list. You want I should get my boys together and-"
"No!" hissed Drake, "What are you thinking? This is what we'll do: can you get on the guest list?"
"Can Negaduck use illegal explosives? Of course I can!" scoffed Steelbeak.
"Good. Go to the party and keep open communication with me. I'll be hiding out nearby. Try to talk to Otis and find out what's going on with him and Quack."
"In dat case, I should take a couple 'a my boys ta-"
"No! Nothing like that!"
"I suppose I'll just 'ave ta break out da heat on 'is ass. . ."
"No! No guns! Just. . . just find out what's going on! That's it! No kneecap-breaking, know finger-removing, just a nice, quiet chat!"
"Jeez, it ain't no wondah you ain't got no goilfriend."
Drake sputtered indignantly, "What. . . what. . . how would you know?"
"Aw come on, Dope-wing. Ya really t'ink a guy who was getting any would be out fightin' crime every single night? Jeez. Get laid, you'd be less of an ass'ole."
"This conversation is over!" huffed Drake, hanging up the phone over Steelbeak's classic snigger.
*******************8
Dr. Otis straightened his tie in the decorative mirror outside the hotel ballroom and smoothed down the fur between his ears. *Looking handsome, as always*. He thought to himself. *Charismatic, too* These financiers were already in his pocket, and the new ones would be soon. He spied Dr. White cowering in the shadows.
"What are you doing here? You realize that half the people here will recognize you?"
Dr. White mopped his forehead with his over-used handkerchief, his head swerving back and forth as he scurried forward and crouched behind a potted plant beside the mirror. "Bad news Otis. . ." he started, his eyes shifting.
"What have you screwed up now?" growled Otis, narrowing his brown eyes at themselves.
"We've, uh, we've lost track of Dr. Quack. . ." he flinched impulsively as he spoke.
"You've WHAT?" Otis quickly composed himself as he drew a few curious glances from the well-dressed attendees to the ball. He ducked behind the plant next to White and grabbed the front of the quaking duck's shirt, "How did this happen?" he snarled.
"Our, er, our man was following her towards the dock district and. . . he, ah, he lost her. I've sent all our agents to sweep the area, but it's been forty-five minutes and they've seen nothing. We've lost contact with two of them, and the other five are getting nervous . . . they, ahem, they want to pull out."
"You stupid, blundering moron!" hissed Otis, a wild look in his eyes, "Tell them I'll have their guts nailed to my office bulletin board if they don't find her!"
"But. . . the two agents. . ."
"I don't give a damn about them! If something has happened to them, it's their own damn fault! If we don't have a location on her by the end of my speech. . ." he trailed off, letting go of White's shirt and giving him a warning look. "You're lucky I'm busy tonight. It's your ass, White, if you fail me." He spun about and stalked back toward the entrance, putting on a wide smile and shaking hands with the guests he recognized.
White let out a long breath and dabbed at his face with his sleeve. He cell phone rang. "White here. What is it?"
"Three more guys have disappeared, boss." Said the voice on the other end, "Something's going down tonight, and it doesn't look like a standard-issue mugging."
"Just keep, ahem, keep going! I don't care who you have to, ah, shoot!" he hung up, panic twisting in his stomach. The last time he'd felt such extreme panic was just before he fled the country, narrowly escaping Darkwing Duck. He wondered if it wasn't time to buy a plane ticket. . .
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Steelbeak wove his way through the crowd, smiling threateningly at the curious looks directed at his beak. He waggled his eyebrows at a few ladies whose eyes swept up and down his dapper figure, but didn't approach them. If he'd had his way, Bushroot would be on his arm right now. He'd cajoled the plant-duck to the best of his charming ability, but the damn, soft- spoken botanist had Steelbeak twisted around his leafy hand, and the rooster had finally agreed that the pair of them would be too suspicious- looking in that group. Besides, more than one attendee would recognize the green duck.
Instead, Steelbeak had hacked into the hotel security cameras and set Bushroot in front of them with a one-way communication unit (another of which was held by Darkwing Duck, who was playing tic-tac-toe with Lauchpad on the Hotel's roof), which connected to Steelbeak's earpiece, to let the rooster know of any suspicious activity. So far he'd only provided a running commentary on the genus and species of the various potted plants.
Steelbeak finally spotted Otis, but cursed softly when the scientist's name was announced for the welcoming speech. He shoved his way to the front of the crowd, glaring up at Otis, hoping against hope that the speech wouldn't be long. He'd forgotten to wear his lucky glow-in-the-dark-star-printed boxer-shorts.
"Friends, collegues and esteemed guests," Dr. Otis threw a charismatic smile toward the crowd, "We stand here on the anniversary of a historic event,"
"Uh. . . Steelbeak," Bushroot's voice crackled over the communicator, "The exterior cameras are picking up something. . . something. . . really. . . uhh. . ."
It was then that Steelbeak noticed a dull thumping that was not the accumulating thunder outside. Just then Darkwing's communicator crackled to life, "My god! Steelbeak! Get out of there, its-"
Suddenly one of the walls blew inwards in a blast of fire and finished wood. People in the crowd began screaming. Otis stood on the podium, jaw open in shock. The dust cleared and what seemed like a giant phantom materialized from the cloud. Chrome and steel, rivulets of water streaming down the surface, gleamed in the light from the chandeliers. It stood on two wide feet, towering above the crowd at at least fifteen feet tall. At the top of the monstrous machine one could just make out the face of a duck with streaming blue hair, wearing a shaded visor. A disguised voice, sounding as if spoken through a metal tube, emitted from the machine, "I see Dr. Otis has everyone's attention. Always hogging the spotlight, aren't we?"
"What do you want?" Otis's voice was strained, but steady.
"Want? I want to help your publicity. After all, this should make the papers," one of the long-fingered metallic hands reached forward and before Otis could jump from the podium, snatched him up. "Smile for the reporters." Growled the voice, before the robot retreated through the hole in the wall.
"Launchpad!" yelled Darkwing from the roof, "Fire up the ThunderQuack! Quick!" They hopped aboard the stealth plane. The engines roared to life. "This maniacal machine won't escape us!"
The machine was stomping down the street.
"It can walk, but it can't. . . fly. . .?" he trailed off as jets of fire suddenly emitted from the bottom of the thing's feet and it blasted off into the sky. "Launchpad! Follow at a distance! I don't want whoever's driving that monolith to know he's being followed!"
The ThunderQuack hummed through the air, keeping the mech in sight as it headed toward the waterfront district.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Dr. Otis woke up thinking he must be hung over. Yeah, that must be it. He partied too hard at that ball, went home with some skank and got plastered. He opened his eyes. He blinked. Wherever he was, it needed better lighting. And why the hell did his wrists and ankles hurt?
"So. . . you're finally awake. Just like you to pass out at the slightest hint of danger. You always were a coward."
Otis blinked. He realized he was tied to a chair. He squinted into the darkness and could just make out a figure leaning casually against the opposite wall, in shadow, away from the dim, dead light that came through the small, high window. He peered at it. It must still be night. "Who the hell are you?"
"You can't tell? Think about it: you've woken up to the sound of my voice before. . ."
His eyes widened, "Kamo. . ." they narrowed again, "what the hell do you think you're doing? You just kidnapped a well-known and respected scientist. You'll burn for this and you know it."
" 'Well known and respected'?" she sneered as she stepped out of the shadows, wearing an odd black jumpsuit with metal attatchments on the arms legs and torso. "It should have been me!" she stabbed a finger toward herself. Her eyes were hidden behind the window's reflection in her glasses. "You. . . you took everything! Everywhere I went, everything I did, you were there! You followed me!" Her voice trembled with rage.
Otis grinned at her, delighting in infuriating her further, "So, you're still stuck on that, are you?"
"How could I not be? You followed me around and stole my work! You stole my discoveries! You stole my LIFE!" her voice cracked.
"You didn't fight me. . ."
"How could I? You're the one with the money! I couldn't possibly afford to take you to court and you knew that! So you took advantage of me time and time again!"
"So what are you going to do now? Kill me?" he sneered at her, "you'll be sending yourself to hell, too!"
"You're right, I will be." She said quietly, stepping closer to him. From her pocket she drew a small gun, "but it'll sure make me feel better. . ."
Suddenly there was a crackling boom. Kamo gave a cry of surprise as the wall with the window suddenly exploded inward. Both she and Otis coughed until the dust cleared around the dark beak of the ThunderQuack.
"Shit!" growled Quack.
"I am the terror that flaps in the night!" a sound of grunting and choking came from the ThunderQuack as the windshield/door was forced open from under the dust and debris, "I am the chemical catalyst that neutralizes your carbonic acid!" after getting his cape stuck in the door, wrenching it free only to tumble to the floor, Darkwing finally straightened himself. "I am,"
"Get her away from me! She's gone crazy!" Shouted Otis.
Darkwing's shoulders slumped. All he wanted to do was finish the damn sentence.
"Get out of here." Said Quack, pointing her gun at Otis again, "This doesn't involve you."
Darkwing produced his gas gun from his cape and aimed it at her, "Wherever injustice is being done, it is my business! As soon as you captured Dr. Otis, it became my business! Put the gun down and surrender now!"
"Injustice?" Quack said quietly, her voice trembling, "Injustice?!" she shrieked, raising her burning eyes to meet Darkwing's, "Injustice is what this asshole did to me! He stole my work! My research! All my discovieries! He took everything I was passionate about and twisted it to his own purposes!"
Darkwing glanced at Otis as the truth dawned on him. *that's why his career follows hers. . . He was taking credit for her research! And now it's come to this. . .*
Otis squirmed. Sweat shone in his fur, "She's lying! She's crazy!" His voice cracked with desperation.
"Shut up!" Quack screamed. With a click, she took the safety off her gun. Tears streamed from behind her glasses, down her light brown feathers.
Launchpad looked on from inside the ThunderQuack, hardly daring to breath lest he upset the balance of the delicate situation.
"Don't do something you'll regret, Dr. Quack!" cried Darkwing.
Quack's hand trembled. She set her jaw, glaring at Otis where he cowered.
"Don't kill me!" Otis suddenly started sobbing like a child, as he saw the light of murder in her eyes "Please don't kill me! Oh god, I don't want to die!"
"Shut up!" yelled Quack. Her finger tensed on the trigger.
"If you do this, will you be any better than him?" said Darkwing, sighting down the barrel of his gun.
She took a deep breath. Suddenly, all the tension seemed to leave her. Her arm fell, limp at her side. Her shoulders slumped, and she bowed her head.
Darkwing didn't move.
For several moments there was nothing but silence.
Quack's shoulders began to heave with repressed sobs. She suddenly looked up, through the hole in the wall, toward the sky that was still dark, the stars blotted out by the city lights. "I can't do it." She whispered. "I'm not strong enough." Her face seemed to clear and through her tears, and a slow, sad smile appeared on her beak, "but," she sighed, "I am strong enough to do this."
Darkwing's heart seemed to leap into his throat to lodge there, as Dr. Quack raised her arm and pressed the gun to her temple.
Two shots rang out into the still night and the small room filled with smoke.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
You know, I'm a real hypocrite. I hate it when people do cliffhangers like the one above, but I do it all the time. Just ask the people over at the Discworld fandom. Right now they're all ready to chop my head off. Ah, the joys of the internet: you can piss people off without putting yourself in any danger! Heh, at least, I hope so.