A/N: I don't own the song issued in this next chapter.
Chapter 5
All this time, DM had no idea the Colonel was looking for him. And even if he had known, he probably would have tried to avoid him.
But now, with a tape recorder in his pocket and his brain working round the clock, DM had travelled out to Looney Island, home of Professor Squakencluck. The German mole had greeted him warmly and the two were now in the main labarotory, discussing this and that. But DM was looking for an opportunity to distract the professor so he could steal the information that Crumhorn needed.
"So, Professor", said DM casually, as Squakencluck pressed a few buttons on his big-screen scientific computer (A/N: Well, I don't know what else to call it!). "You remember those - blueprints - on those weapons you created?"
"Oh, ja", the professor replied. "Spent ages on zose. Vas vorth it though".
"Ages, eh?" said DM. "I'm surprised - you're normally such a brainstorm. I assumed for you to do everything quickly".
Squakencluck gave a chuckle.
"Zome occasions, I am fast. Others, I am slow. Besides, zose veapons needed time taking over. Headquarters needs all the protection it can get - ja?"
"Yes, indeed", answered DM. "But tell me - those weapons; can anyone build them?"
"If zey are on our side, if you are seeing vat I mean", replied Squakencluck. "If anyone bad ever tried to build zese machines, zey vould be in for a shock!"
"Really?' frowned DM, feeling the recorder shift in his pocket. "How so?"
"Vell, ze veapons are able to detect vhether zey are being built for good or for evil", said Squakencluck, in a suddenly dark tone. "If zey are being used correctly, everything is gut. But if zey are going to be built for bad matters, zen zey von't vork for ze maker".
DM turned away, glaring at the floor. He and Crumhorn had not reckoned on the weapons not working for them. How could they overcome that?
"Well - how could someone beat that?" he asked carefully. "If they were evil, that is".
"Vell - oh, zis is rather silly - but zey vork if ze maker acts as if vat they are doing is gut", answered Squakencluck. He shrugged his shoulders. "Laugh if you vant".
"Oh - oh no, I won't laugh at all!" said DM innocently. "In fact - you've been VERY helpful to me".
"I'm glad to be hearing it", smiled the Professor. Then he gave a small frown. "DM - how are you feeling?"
"Fine, thankyou, Professor".
"Ah, sehr gut. It's just - vell, you are knowing vat time of year it is - "
DM suddenly felt a chill come over him. He knew what the Professor was talking about - and he didn't want to be reminded. Either that or he didn't care. He didn't know - but he knew he had to leave.
"I - I'd better be going", he said quickly, turning away. "Thankyou, Professor".
Squakencluck gazed after the boy worriedly, as DM went off to the lab doors. He seemed to be very cool about things this year - that was a turn- up for the books. Every other year had been terrible - DM had always suddenly seemed robbed of his strength, and the Colonel always had to try and not give him any cases to take care of. It had been harder since Penfold had gone to live with DM, because then he had to try and act stronger, when everyone knew that he just wanted to flop down and cry. Everyone knew what Halloween was really like for Danger Mouse.
Tragic.
*
Back at the pillar-box, DM replayed the information on the tape recorder.
"Ah, sehr gut. It's just - vell, you are knowing vat time of year it is - "
DM quickly shut the recorder off when those words came out of the speaker. He grasped the desk tightly with one hand, and shut his eyes tightly. He held one hand to his head - he suddenly felt drained of energy, and he didn't want to do anything but sleep.
Why was he STILL like this? It had been a long time ago - why was he still upset over it? People had to move on.
"You'll never be over it", taunted a little voice. "You're going to be like this every year - every Halloween you'll look back on how your life was ripped apart in just one night. You'll spend the rest of your life mourning HIM, and you'll never be able to move on".
DM gritted his teeth, and then with a furious roar, he stood up, and putting all his weight against the side of his wardrobe, gave it a huge shove. The doors flew open, and several items flew out, including a shoebox on the top shelf. It fell out as a framed picture landed face-down on the carpet. There was a cracking noise as the glass broke, but DM didn't notice.
"DM!" There were yells, and Kim came running in. "What's - ". Her voice trailed off when she saw the mess outside the wardrobe doors.
DM pushed right past her, and took off for the lounge. Kim didn't need to realise that he was going out again.
She shook her head at the mess on the floor, and started to gather up the clothes that had fallen out from the wardrobe. She put them in a pile on the bed, and then kneeled down next to the picture. She picked it up carefully, and looked at the front.
For a moment, Kim thought the person in the picture was Danger Mouse. There was a definite familarity about the mouse who stared back at her from the photo. But then, Kim realised it couldn't be DM - the two eyes, neither covered by a patch, were a light brown colour. The fur was not white, but a light shade of grey. A tuft of hair could be seen on the mouse's forehead, and he looked to be about seventeen years old. He stared seriously into the camera, and he was dressed in a jumpsuit similar to DM's, only it was black with a white belt and badge. Kim could not read the letters on the badge, because a jagged crack in the glass had appeared right across the mouse's chest.
Kim frowned at the photo. Who was this person? Obviously, he must work in the same agency as DM and Penfold; the jumpsuit gave him away. But why did he remind Kim so of Danger Mouse?
Kim pulled the shoebox (which she realised now was very dusty) towards her and looked inside. There was another photo, a Polaroid this time, a folded piece of paper, an envelope and, most curious of all, a plain recording CD.
Kim picked up the Polaroid photo and looked at it. She gave a surprised smile.
Two young mice, most probably eight and thirteen, grinned out from the picture. There was no mistaking who they both were. The younger had an eyepatch over his left eye and his fur was white. He was giving the camera a cheeky smile and his mouth was slightly open as if he were saying something.
The other was the mouse from the other picture. Kim was sure of it. The tuft of hair on the mouse's head was untidier, and he was wearing jeans and a red fleece, but she knew for certain it was the same person.
The boy had his arm around young Danger Mouse and for some reason, both were holding unlit candles in a rather wild way - in fact they were holding them like microphones. At the bottom of the photo in the white gap, someone had written 'Caught!'
Kim put the photo back in the shoebox and took out the piece of paper. Unfolding it, it was revealed to be some sort of certificate.
Kim read the first few lines to herself.
"Name: Damien Timothy Mouse. D.O.B: 3rd March 1972. Codename: Agent 06. Joined on: 25th June 1988".
There was no deathdate.
"But who is this guy?" Kim said to herself. "Obviously he must still be alive if there's no date of death. Hmm - I'll have to find some more clues".
She turned back to the shoebox and got out the envelope. It turned out to be already open. There was a card inside. The front read 'I'm Sorry' and had a picture of a hopeful-faced cartoon mouse. And when Kim opened up the card, it said, in neat handwriting:
DM
I'm sorry. It was just a joke.
Damien.
"Damien? The boy on the certificate?" said Kim out loud. She turned to her last clue - the CD.
The CD just had one song on it: 'Rhythm Of the Night' by Debarge.
Debarge is that 80's group, Kim thought to herself. 'Rhythm Of the Night' is a terrific song. I guess someone must have recorded it onto this CD. But why on earth would DM hide the CD away?
And more importantly, who exactly IS Damien?
Chapter 5
All this time, DM had no idea the Colonel was looking for him. And even if he had known, he probably would have tried to avoid him.
But now, with a tape recorder in his pocket and his brain working round the clock, DM had travelled out to Looney Island, home of Professor Squakencluck. The German mole had greeted him warmly and the two were now in the main labarotory, discussing this and that. But DM was looking for an opportunity to distract the professor so he could steal the information that Crumhorn needed.
"So, Professor", said DM casually, as Squakencluck pressed a few buttons on his big-screen scientific computer (A/N: Well, I don't know what else to call it!). "You remember those - blueprints - on those weapons you created?"
"Oh, ja", the professor replied. "Spent ages on zose. Vas vorth it though".
"Ages, eh?" said DM. "I'm surprised - you're normally such a brainstorm. I assumed for you to do everything quickly".
Squakencluck gave a chuckle.
"Zome occasions, I am fast. Others, I am slow. Besides, zose veapons needed time taking over. Headquarters needs all the protection it can get - ja?"
"Yes, indeed", answered DM. "But tell me - those weapons; can anyone build them?"
"If zey are on our side, if you are seeing vat I mean", replied Squakencluck. "If anyone bad ever tried to build zese machines, zey vould be in for a shock!"
"Really?' frowned DM, feeling the recorder shift in his pocket. "How so?"
"Vell, ze veapons are able to detect vhether zey are being built for good or for evil", said Squakencluck, in a suddenly dark tone. "If zey are being used correctly, everything is gut. But if zey are going to be built for bad matters, zen zey von't vork for ze maker".
DM turned away, glaring at the floor. He and Crumhorn had not reckoned on the weapons not working for them. How could they overcome that?
"Well - how could someone beat that?" he asked carefully. "If they were evil, that is".
"Vell - oh, zis is rather silly - but zey vork if ze maker acts as if vat they are doing is gut", answered Squakencluck. He shrugged his shoulders. "Laugh if you vant".
"Oh - oh no, I won't laugh at all!" said DM innocently. "In fact - you've been VERY helpful to me".
"I'm glad to be hearing it", smiled the Professor. Then he gave a small frown. "DM - how are you feeling?"
"Fine, thankyou, Professor".
"Ah, sehr gut. It's just - vell, you are knowing vat time of year it is - "
DM suddenly felt a chill come over him. He knew what the Professor was talking about - and he didn't want to be reminded. Either that or he didn't care. He didn't know - but he knew he had to leave.
"I - I'd better be going", he said quickly, turning away. "Thankyou, Professor".
Squakencluck gazed after the boy worriedly, as DM went off to the lab doors. He seemed to be very cool about things this year - that was a turn- up for the books. Every other year had been terrible - DM had always suddenly seemed robbed of his strength, and the Colonel always had to try and not give him any cases to take care of. It had been harder since Penfold had gone to live with DM, because then he had to try and act stronger, when everyone knew that he just wanted to flop down and cry. Everyone knew what Halloween was really like for Danger Mouse.
Tragic.
*
Back at the pillar-box, DM replayed the information on the tape recorder.
"Ah, sehr gut. It's just - vell, you are knowing vat time of year it is - "
DM quickly shut the recorder off when those words came out of the speaker. He grasped the desk tightly with one hand, and shut his eyes tightly. He held one hand to his head - he suddenly felt drained of energy, and he didn't want to do anything but sleep.
Why was he STILL like this? It had been a long time ago - why was he still upset over it? People had to move on.
"You'll never be over it", taunted a little voice. "You're going to be like this every year - every Halloween you'll look back on how your life was ripped apart in just one night. You'll spend the rest of your life mourning HIM, and you'll never be able to move on".
DM gritted his teeth, and then with a furious roar, he stood up, and putting all his weight against the side of his wardrobe, gave it a huge shove. The doors flew open, and several items flew out, including a shoebox on the top shelf. It fell out as a framed picture landed face-down on the carpet. There was a cracking noise as the glass broke, but DM didn't notice.
"DM!" There were yells, and Kim came running in. "What's - ". Her voice trailed off when she saw the mess outside the wardrobe doors.
DM pushed right past her, and took off for the lounge. Kim didn't need to realise that he was going out again.
She shook her head at the mess on the floor, and started to gather up the clothes that had fallen out from the wardrobe. She put them in a pile on the bed, and then kneeled down next to the picture. She picked it up carefully, and looked at the front.
For a moment, Kim thought the person in the picture was Danger Mouse. There was a definite familarity about the mouse who stared back at her from the photo. But then, Kim realised it couldn't be DM - the two eyes, neither covered by a patch, were a light brown colour. The fur was not white, but a light shade of grey. A tuft of hair could be seen on the mouse's forehead, and he looked to be about seventeen years old. He stared seriously into the camera, and he was dressed in a jumpsuit similar to DM's, only it was black with a white belt and badge. Kim could not read the letters on the badge, because a jagged crack in the glass had appeared right across the mouse's chest.
Kim frowned at the photo. Who was this person? Obviously, he must work in the same agency as DM and Penfold; the jumpsuit gave him away. But why did he remind Kim so of Danger Mouse?
Kim pulled the shoebox (which she realised now was very dusty) towards her and looked inside. There was another photo, a Polaroid this time, a folded piece of paper, an envelope and, most curious of all, a plain recording CD.
Kim picked up the Polaroid photo and looked at it. She gave a surprised smile.
Two young mice, most probably eight and thirteen, grinned out from the picture. There was no mistaking who they both were. The younger had an eyepatch over his left eye and his fur was white. He was giving the camera a cheeky smile and his mouth was slightly open as if he were saying something.
The other was the mouse from the other picture. Kim was sure of it. The tuft of hair on the mouse's head was untidier, and he was wearing jeans and a red fleece, but she knew for certain it was the same person.
The boy had his arm around young Danger Mouse and for some reason, both were holding unlit candles in a rather wild way - in fact they were holding them like microphones. At the bottom of the photo in the white gap, someone had written 'Caught!'
Kim put the photo back in the shoebox and took out the piece of paper. Unfolding it, it was revealed to be some sort of certificate.
Kim read the first few lines to herself.
"Name: Damien Timothy Mouse. D.O.B: 3rd March 1972. Codename: Agent 06. Joined on: 25th June 1988".
There was no deathdate.
"But who is this guy?" Kim said to herself. "Obviously he must still be alive if there's no date of death. Hmm - I'll have to find some more clues".
She turned back to the shoebox and got out the envelope. It turned out to be already open. There was a card inside. The front read 'I'm Sorry' and had a picture of a hopeful-faced cartoon mouse. And when Kim opened up the card, it said, in neat handwriting:
DM
I'm sorry. It was just a joke.
Damien.
"Damien? The boy on the certificate?" said Kim out loud. She turned to her last clue - the CD.
The CD just had one song on it: 'Rhythm Of the Night' by Debarge.
Debarge is that 80's group, Kim thought to herself. 'Rhythm Of the Night' is a terrific song. I guess someone must have recorded it onto this CD. But why on earth would DM hide the CD away?
And more importantly, who exactly IS Damien?