"Skipper," Hans gasps.
Skipper turns to Hans, already jumpy. The penguin is already busy at work, trying to shut up the alarm. He slaps it. "Huh?"
"What are you doing breaking into Denmark's most precious vault?" Hans creates his own reality. Maybe Skipper would question himself.
Skipper stops, not buying it. He's more confused than anything. "What?"
Hans steps back towards the open door. He leans out into the night air and cups his wings to his beak. "Help! Help! The penguin is stealing the sandwiches!"
"Hans!" Skipper approaches the puffin. Had he lost it? "What in the world is going on here?"
Hans doesn't let Skipper get too close. Before Skipper can reach him, he spins around. In his extended wing is a large, lengthy fish. It is long enough and threatening enough to be a makeshift sword. He points it directly at Skipper's chest.
Skipper steps back and raises his flippers slightly. "A fish?"
"Well, it's supposed to be a sword." Hans grumbles. "But you get the idea!"
"You're not… - you're not framing me for this, are you?" Skipper asks, still backing up as Hans approaches. Despite his determination to keep his distance from the other agents, for some reason he feels upset by this. Disappointment? Betrayal?
"Sorry, Skipper," Hans continues, backing Skipper up against the wall. "But there's no other way for me to get ahead. You've had it so easy this whole time. This way I can finally bring honor to the name Hans the Puffin!"
"By being a fraud?" Skipper glares. Now, he's starting to feel anger.
Hans shrugs. "Meh, these things happen."
Hans's shrug gives Skipper enough time to find another fish laying on the floor. It's his only chance to save himself. What would he do if the Danish guards got here to find them both in the vault? He would be apprehended. And who knows what the Danes would do with him then? Not just the Danes, but the organization. He would be a disgrace. His dream would be stolen from him in a matter of hours. After everything he's gone through, this can't be how his story ends. No, he can't let that happen.
Skipper stomps on the very tip of the fish's head. This causes it to flip up in the air. He catches it in his flipper and is finally about to rebut against Hans.
This intimidates Hans. As soon as Skipper extends the fish out to challenge him, he realizes that this will not be quite as easy as he thought. Skipper surely was going to put up a fight. Now it was truly a battle of wills.
Unfortunately for Hans, Skipper was very strong. They battle back and forth with the fish. However, Hans was very determined. He fights back rather well. Skipper wasn't prepared for Hans to be so vicious. It was as if something had just possessed him.
Suddenly Skipper spots a ladder. It leads up to a landing that wraps around the vault. If he could get up there, he could give himself the advantage. In the midst of their back-and-forth, suddenly Skipper stops and makes a break for the ladder. Hans chases after him, nearly on his tailfeather. Once Skipper reaches the third rung, Hans reaches up and grabs his foot.
Skipper looks down, as Hans tries to tug with all of his might. If he could throw Skipper from the ladder, perhaps he would land on his back. The penguin would be helpless with his chest and underbelly exposed.
Realizing this, Skipper swings his leg back towards Hans. Just when Hans thinks he's got a hold on Skipper, the penguin slams his leg back towards the ladder. Unprepared for this, Hans is thrown into the wall by the force.
As Hans regains his balance, Skipper rushes his way up the ladder. He has to gather his thoughts. Should he leave? If he did, he would be abandoning his post. That's a serious offense. If he stayed, Hans would surely frame him or they would be apprehended together. He was trapped, ambushed. How long had that daffy puffin been planning this scheme?
Too late! Hans had made his way up the ladder. What would happen next? More chase or would Skipper finally face him? Admittedly, he kind of liked the height that this platform gave their battle. It really raised the stakes.
"Look, Hans," Skipper is really sweating it out. He doesn't want any more of this. What can he say to save himself? "I'm sorry for being so cold to you, that I was never your… palsy walsy." He cringes as he says that term of endearment.
"We were never palsy walsies?" Hans tilts his head. This was news to him.
Skipper straightens up, as if he has just stepped on a Lego. He instantly regrets opening his beak. "In retrospect, maybe that wasn't the best thing for me to say at the moment." He shifts back to his urgent tone. "But Hans, you can't get away with this. The Danes will catch on. It's not too late to do the right thing."
From outside of the vault, they hear approaching footsteps. There's shouting and eventually, the light of flashlights shoots through the opening. Skipper and Hans instinctively turn at the sound. Ready or not, the guards were coming. What was it going to come down to?
As Skipper is distracted by the guards, Hans sees his chance. Swiftly, he sweeps his leg, barely lifting it from the ground. He sends it straight behind Skipper's foot and uses enough force to flip Skipper back over the side of the platform.
Skipper tumbles off the platform. It almost feels as though he is falling in slow motion. There goes his dream, his life as he knows it. Why did this keep happening to him?
He falls flat on his beak. "Ah, cheap shot, Hans!" He groans back up at his adversary.
By the time Skipper gets to his feet, he is surrounded by the Danish guards. Skipper gets in a battle position, but doesn't want to have to fight the Danes unless he has to. That's his last resort. Maybe he could make a deal with Hans. This guy couldn't really frame him. He didn't have the guts.
"Hans! Help me out, here!" Skipper looks up at his rival.
Hans seems to get great enjoyment out of this. He saunters on the platform and places a wing to his beak in feigned sympathy. "Well, my, my, Skipper. Looks like you're in some sort of a pickle."
"C'mon, Hans, do the right thing! We can say this was all just some accident." Skipper pleads.
"I guess some of us were never meant to be the hero." Hans sighs.
"No. You no-good, double crossing sea bird!" Skipper couldn't believe it. How could anyone be so infuriating?
"Farvel, palsy walsy." Hans salutes.
Then, Hans begins squawking, pointing at Skipper. He lets out a terrible cry as if he has just witnessed something horrendous. "Help! He's stealing the open-faced sandwiches! Oh, the humanity!"
Of course, to the human guards, their conversation just sounds like a bunch of squawking. However, based on Hans's tone and body language they can decipher the urgency.
"Look! The puffin is alerting us to the penguin's treachery!" One of the guards points to Hans.
"Try saying that five times fast." Another one laughs.
"Get the flightless waterfowl!" Rush at him all at once.
"Flightless waterfowl?" Skipper is offended. He is a penguin and proud of it.
Skipper begins dodging their attempts at grabbing him. Soon he has no choice but to start fighting back. He dodges a human, then kicks another. It lands just in the right spot to where the man falls unconscious. Looks like that training was sure paying off.
Now, just for fun, he starts putting the open-faced sandwiches together. This aggravates the Danish. It is sacrilege, blasphemous in their eyes. If he was going to become a villain, then he wanted to leave his mark too. He takes joy in displacing his anger and spite onto the sandwiches and attacking guards.
Hans takes notice that Skipper is knocking out all of the guards. What would happen if it were just him and Skipper conscious? He hadn't thought that far ahead. Never had he imagined that one angry penguin could take on all of those humans. It really appeared to be no sweat for him either.
Once the last human is out cold, Skipper looks up at Hans and growls. He was coming for him now. Hans lets out a yelp and takes off running towards the next ladder. Maybe he could outrun Skipper and make it to the higher platforms. Just when Skipper tries to make his move for Hans, there is more noise coming from out of the vault. Those guards must have called for backup.
As much as wants his revenge against Hans, he knows he needs to get out of there. Things wouldn't be good for him if the next round of guards found him. Looks like he'd have to let Hans go for now.
Skipper rushes out of the vault to immediately be in the spotlight of several flashlights. The guards began shouting, as Skipper could barely think over the sound. Now it has become a chase through the streets of Copenhagen. How could one penguin outrun a bunch of humans, with their oversized legs?
Somehow Skipper makes it to the dock, with the guards still hot on his trail. He'll need to make it to one of the boats. There appears to be one leaving the harbor now. That's his only chance at escape. If he can make it aboard, he'll be home free… at least for now.
Suddenly, he feels two large, icy hands wrap around him. He's in one pinch of a grip. As much as Skipper wriggles and squirms, he can't pry himself loose. Just as it looks like it is game over, Skipper lets his animal instincts take over. In a last-ditch resort, he bites the thumb of the human holding him.
His beak could be rather sharp. And good thing too, the blonde man releases Skipper from his grasp and cries out in pain. That was going to leave a scar. As the man had dived in to grab Skipper, the penguin rushed around to snag a weapon, anything off of this guy's utility belt that could help him.
Just then, the rest of the mob catches up with him. He's surrounded by agents once more. This time he doesn't feel quite as confident that he could take on this many humans at once.
"You're surrounded, fiend! Surrender!" The captain demands.
Just then, Skipper remembers the surprise he had acquired from the agent. He smirks. This wasn't the end of the line at all. With that, he lifts the flipper from behind his back and reveals the round object he is holding.
"No!" The captain shouts.
But before he or any of the guards are able to do anything, Skipper chucks it at the ground. POOF! A cloud of smoke fills the air, obscuring any sight the Danes might have had of him. Smoke bombs, huh? That was rather nifty. He'd have to remember that.
In the cloud of smoke, Skipper is able to slip past the guards. He makes his way to the end of the deck and dives in the frigid water. He had a boat to catch.
Finally, Skipper swims his way to the boat and drags himself over the side of the ship. From all the excitement, he is reaching exhaustion. He falls to the ship's deck with a THUD. That was a close one. At last, finally he could rest.
But as soon as he flops to the floor, he must leap back up to his feet. Two eyes stare down at him. A human, no less, is looking down at him in amazement. But no, he was a threat. Anyone, anything was a threat now. Skipper couldn't trust anyone anymore. Skipper backs up in his fear, trembling. He looks at the man with eyes wide with fear. No matter what this stranger wanted, there was nothing Skipper could do. He was cornered this time.
"Hey, little guy," the man gently greets Skipper. He is just surprised to see a penguin on his ship. They were literally at the opposite end of the world from Antarctica.
The man takes a step closer and Skipper panics. No, he didn't want to hurt him but what if he had no choice? What if this was someone else after him? Skipper can't think straight. It's as if his brain has a heartbeat. The pounding won't stop.
Without further thought, Skipper leaps up and knocks the man unconscious with his flipper. The ruckus must have caused a stir on the boat, as Skipper can hear even more footsteps approaching. His breath is shallow and hurried in the cold, night air. What can he do? What can he do?
Eventually, a whole group of humans is standing in front of him. They look on with shock. What scene had they just stumbled upon? A crew member was unconscious and there stood a penguin. This was a group of tourists. But what if they knew what he had done? What he had done… knocking out the crewmember? The Danish vault? But no… that wasn't him. Did it matter? They were after him. They were all still after him. What if they knew too? What if they were after him too? All of them? In this hyperventilation, Skipper attacks without thinking.
Pretty soon, the whole group is knocked out. This only causes Skipper to panic more. What had he done? He looks down at his flippers in terror. He had been capable of this all along. His fear spans towards not only the humans, the agents, but also himself. He backs up slowly, staring down at his flippers as if he had done something depraved. The humans were just fine in reality, but that thought didn't come to Skipper's mind at the time. He wasn't a hero after all. Hans was right. Now it looks as though he might even be a monster… This wasn't supposed to happen! None of this was supposed to happen! He was supposed to be out there adventuring with Sam. Now he was a fugitive, a criminal, a threat to others.
As Skipper panics, a bright light nearly blinds him. He squints. From the shore, a beam of light points directly at him. "There! Over there on that ship!" A magnified voice calls out.
He's been spotted! They're coming for him for sure now. Without a second thought, he leaps over the side of the ship. Back into the frigid waters, he swims into the darkness of the night. He would have to make it to shore, somewhere where he could hide.
Several hours into the night, Skipper finds himself back in London. He wanders the streets in search of somewhere to hide. Every beep of a distant car horn, bark from a stray dog, or other sudden noise sends him into a brief panic. He knows he just has to settle himself down, but how? That would be his only way of surviving this. He needed a level-head.
His pace hastens. He looks all around him. He stops and scans the perimeter. Repeat.
He has never felt this on edge before. In a flash, a streetlight above him flickers. He darts under a street bench. After a moment of cowering, he sees that there is no present danger. What has happened to him? But the much grimmer question is: what will become of him?
At last, he reaches the gates of the London Zoo. It had been two years since he had seen Sam last. That was when they had their fallout. But surely, Sam would help him right? He had to. He was his brother. And that was the penguin credo. The door was always open to him, just like Sam had said the last time they spoke. They had to look out for each other. Right? Skipper makes his way to the penguin habitat in a flash.
Underneath the sort of slide-like structures is something of a cave. That must be where they are - where Sam is. Skipper rushes to the entrances and knocks vigorously. "Sam! Sam! Sam!" He pounds his flipper against the habitat. Nearly out of breath, he looks over his shoulder.
The sudden sound causes commotion in the habitat. Yes! He had gotten their attention. He wasn't alone anymore. Thank goodness! He wasn't going to be alone in all of this. He was safe now that Sam was here. Sam would know what to do.
Sam, looking a bit older, rushes to the door. Both look just as surprised to see one another. Sam, in his grogginess, squints at his younger brother. Was that really him? Why did he come back now? Why was it so late?
"Skipper?" He looks confused now, wiping away the sleep from his eyes. "What are you doing here?"
Skipper immediately goes back to panicking. At least this way, he could show Sam just how desperate he was. "I did something bad, Sam. I really, really messed up. And now – now – … they're after me, Sam! They're coming for me!"
Sam takes a step back. What had happened to his little brother? It was as if he were looking at a stranger. "Skipper, what are you talking about?"
"No, please, Sam!" Skipper reaches out and grabs ahold of Sam's shoulders in desperation. "You've got to help me! Please!"
"Skipper – " Sam works up a stern voice but is interrupted by Skipper's ravings.
"Please, Sam! I'm so scared – I don't know what to do." He's nearly in tears.
Sam is like a statue in his flippers, as Skipper leans his head on his brother and begins to cry. He can hear and feel Sam sigh.
"Skipper, you need to leave." Sam removes Skipper's flippers from his shoulder.
"What?" Skipper gasps, tears forming in his eyes. No, no. This couldn't actually be happening. Sam wouldn't turn him away. He couldn't. This had to be a mistake.
"You need to go." Sam clears his throat, standing up straight.
"But, didn't you hear me? I need you. I'm in big trouble, Sam, and I don't know what to do!" Skipper pleads, tears in his eyes. He needed Sam, his brother, to solve things again.
"And that's why you can't stay here, Skipper." Sam looks back into the habitat briefly. "I have to protect my family. If someone really is after you, what happens if they come here? I can't let anything happen to Eleanor…, to … -"
"But, Sam, I need – " Skipper begs. Sam just doesn't understand. Surely, if he knew, he would help him. Of course, he would, right?
"You need to leave." Sam turns away, hiding his pain. He didn't want to do this to Skipper. Darn him for making him go through this again.
"Please," Skipper whimpers pitifully.
"I said 'no'. Now, go." Sam doesn't even look back at Skipper.
How could he be rejected by his own brother? This couldn't be happening. First, he lost his dream and now, the only family he had was shutting him out completely. He can't let this happen.
"Please!" Skipper grabs Sam's flipper.
This causes Sam to instinctually prepare for a fight. He spins around and raises his fist, more so to scare Skipper. And it works. Skipper recoils and lets go of Sam's flipper. It slides out of his grasp, as Sam makes his way back in.
Sam returns inside, with his head in his flippers. Had he really just turned away his brother like that? He had no other choice. There was no telling the trouble that Skipper had gotten himself into. What if whoever was coming after him went after his family next? He couldn't forgive himself if Eleanor were to get hurt. It seems he had already failed Skipper. He couldn't bare to do similarly by Eleanor or his future child.
"Is everything all right, love?" Eleanor hugs Sam.
"Yeah," Sam clears his throat. "Everything's fine. Skipper's just got to… to learn how to make it on his own. That's all."
From outside of the habitat, Skipper stands out in the cold. For a second he stops to process what has just happened. With shaking flippers, he wraps himself up and stares at his feet. Abandoned, betrayed. He was all alone. There wasn't a soul in the universe he could turn to now.
Skipper wandered and wandered for miles. Careful to stay out of the light of streetlights and headlights, for his whole aimless journey, he never rested. Every corner, he checked to make sure he wasn't being followed. He jumped trains and boats, looking to get as far away as possible. His past, traveling the world purposefully picking and choosing destinations, was a distant dream. Those days were gone. He was now confined to the shadows. Was this what Manfredi and Johnson felt like? This was certainly not the life he ever wanted for himself. But now he was trapped in it - like a nightmare he could never wake up from. It was too late to turn back. It had only been a few hours of being on the run, and yet he already didn't know how he could live this way.
At some point in the night, Skipper was miserably stumbling through a city street when he saw two familiar shadows up ahead. He peered through the rain that was steadily coming down at this point. They were penguins just like him. In fact, he knew them. Where had he seen them before? Yes, that's right! A couple years ago, before he was alone - before he joined the agency. As he got closer, he saw their faces better. It was the Chinstrap Sisters. Finally! Someone who would help him. They had to understand his predicament. They were wanted criminals too, after all.
As he approached, they watched him closely. Surely, they recognized him. Why were they looking at him like that? They let him approach but showed no sign of a greeting. It was spooky.
"Am I glad to see you both!" Skipper breaks the ice, sighing in relief.
Before Skipper can say anything else, Crimson sends a swift, roundhouse kick to the back of his head. The force sends Skipper collapsing to the cold, damp street. The last thing he sees is the glow of street lights, before succumbing to unconsciousness. He lays there, more vulnerable than ever before.
"Are we sure about this, Crim?" Violet, the younger and more hesitant of the two, queries.
"C'mon," Crim determinedly steps over Skipper's limp body. "Let's see what he's got." She completely ignores her sister's worry. This isn't the lifestyle for the faint of heart.
Violet and Crimson work together to flip Skipper over, so he is laying belly-up. The two examine him to see if he has anything of value on him. However, their search comes up short. He doesn't even have anything stored in his gut, when Crimson reaches down his gullet to check.
"Nothing," Violet sighs.
"Look, if we turn him in to the Danes, we'll be set for life." Crimson tries to reason with her sister. It seems they had spoken about this before. "We'll be absolved of any of our crimes. And, just think of that reward money."
Violet was a scammer, but she wasn't heartless. Despite her career of stealing from strangers, she couldn't justify delving out what would be a death sentence. Then again, the chance to walk around in broad daylight again was so difficult to pass up. They had the fate of this practical-stranger in their flippers.
"Vi, he's been deemed public enemy number one in Denmark. If we don't turn him in, someone else will. Now why would we pass up on that chance?" Her sister continues, clearly fixed in her stance.
"But if they catch him, they'll -" Violet begins.
"It's none of our business what they do with him." Crimson tries to bring her back to the point.
"But what about Manfredi and Johnson?" Violet looks for another angle.
"What about them?" Crimson rolls her eyes. Those two are no threat.
"They were associated with him at one point, right? What would they think if we turned him in?" Vi is half-asking, half-persuading. "We wouldn't want to lose our good terms with them, no matter how incompetent they are."
That did cause Crimson to pause. Would this be a betrayal of their accomplices? It's not like she had time to ask them. Violet was right in a way, if they did reap the reward money, there was no going back. This penguin at her feet would never taste freedom again.
"And what about that larger penguin he was traveling with?" Violet prodes further. "What are the chances he would come after us?"
Again, Violet's right. That penguin was much larger and seemed very protective of Skipper. He's obviously not here now, but that doesn't mean much. If he ever found out, he could come after them. Now, that was a liability. They simply didn't know what he was capable of. With Johnson and Manfredi, the worst they would do is break all ties. With this Sam character, who knows? He could turn them in for their crimes or worse.
"You're right," Crimson stands up. She turns to leave.
"But we can't just leave him for dead in the street, either." Violet hasn't moved from her crouched position. "What about cars? Dogs? Stray cats? Laying here unconscious he doesn't stand much of a chance."
"Then let them deal with him." Crimson turns once again, growing frustrated with her sister. Maybe she should reconsider the idea of turning him in. "If he wakes up, what are the chances he'll remember it was us."
Violet grabs her flipper, stopping her. "What if we ditch him somewhere safe?"
"And why would we go out of our way to do that?" Crimson asks.
"You would want someone to do that for me." Violet shrugs, running out of arguments. She knows her sister and her conscience. This would weigh on her. "Plus, we could use this as a leverage with Johnson and Manfredi. They'd owe us… for whatever that's worth."
The next thing Skipper knows, he is opening his eyes. The ceiling and light above look blurry, as he is still recovering from his blackout. His head sure hurts, but from what he can't seem to remember. With a flipper, he reaches back and holds his sore head. Something is below him, propping him up like a bed. It isn't a bed, however, as there is one right across the room from him. Who's bedroom is this? No, it's a hotel room. His flippers fumble through this "bedding", as he feels slips of paper. He looks down to see blue, red, purple, and brown slips of paper. Deutschmarks? He picks one up to examine it. Counterfeit deutschmarks? How'd he end up with these? Clearly, if someone else placed him here, he would be in Danish custody. But that didn't seem to be the case. Startled is an understatement, as he begins to awaken more.
"Skipper," a raspy voice whispers.
"Huh?" Skipper jumps.
"Hey, hey, relax, friend." A flipper rests on his shoulder.
Skipper turns to find Manfredi beside him. He leans over intently, with concern in his eyes. How did he get here?
"Wha? Where am I? What's going?" Skipper stammers in a cold sweat.
"We're here, it's all right." Manfredi does his best to comfort Skipper.
"Where is here?" Skipper looks around.
"We're in a hotel, somewhere in Kyoto." Johnson looks out the window, peeking out a slit in the blinds. "What all do you remember from last night?" Johnson turns back to Skipper.
"I don't know…" Skipper rubs his head again. "Uh… The last thing I remember is… Sam… oh no."
"What happened with Sam?" Manfredi raises his faux brow in concern.
"I messed up." Skipper places a flipper to his forehead. "I really messed up."
"Hey, it's all right." Manfredi places a firm flipper on Skipper's shoulder. "We're here now. Is Sam okay?"
"Yeah, but it's not like he's ever going to speak to me again." Skipper sighs.
"Hey, not everybody's cut out for this kind of life." Johnson shrugs, making his way over to Skipper.
"I'm sure he'll come back around." Manfredi reassures Skipper.
"As for you, Mr. Public Enemy Number One, we've got more immediate concerns." Johnson huffs.
"You know about Denmark?" Skipper tenses. They aren't going to turn him in, are they? No, he can trust them. They're old friends. Friends… yeah, for whatever that's worth. Hans sure proved that friends can't always be trusted.
"Well, kid, word travels fast." Manfredi shrugs. It appears they aren't the only ones who know.
"We're going to have to lay low for a little bit." Johnson looks to Manfredi, who nods. "And as for you, we're going to have to get you some aliases, if you want to keep the hide on your back."
"Yeah!" Skipper leaps up. Partially eager at their willingness to help him and partially for the opportunity to go about incognito. The thought excites him. Now, that was real spy stuff.
"You stick with us, and you'll be fine. There's no need to worry." Manfredi reassures Skipper.
"Don't illude the kid, Manfredi. There's always a risk, especially now that he's on the lam." Johnson slaps Manfredi on the backside of his head.
"Hey, Johnson," Skipper looks around mystified again. "How did I get here? How did you guys find me?"
"Don't worry about it, kid." Johnson pats Skipper on the back, before waddling off.
[To Be Continued]