by Roaming Tigress
Chapter Seven:
The Attack
Javert crept behind the wall of the kitchen, waiting for Steelbeak to return back from wherever he went to. He took one look at his puny weapon, and took a quick glance at the knife block. Without a second thought, he decided what weapon he would use for the dirty deed. He would use a butcher knife, the biggest he has ever seen. A slash across the throat would suffice, but he wanted to make more of a mess.
A nice cut to the gut would be perfect! I sort of feel like having chicken tonight . . . Yes, he planned on eating his adversary when he was through with him. After all, a murderer had to dispose of the body some way or another. He would keep the beak as a macabre souvenir, the feathers for stuffing a pillow. He would grind up the bones and sell it as some sort of exotic remedy, like a poacher would with ground rhino horn. The colourful tailfeathers would be sold to any poor fool believing them to have magical powers.
A the sound of footsteps, Javert crept behind a wall and waited. If there was one thing he had to learn, it would that he would have to be patient. He fidgeted, gritting his teeth. Any moment would be nice . . . C'mon you stupid good-for-nothing poultry! Just walk through that door! At the sound of a door opening, he froze and held his breath. The familiar smell of English Feather wafted through his nostrils, and he grinned.
Finally.
Without having a care in the world, Steelbeak sauntered into his apartment. He had a good day, went out on a date with a cute girl and committed a few crimes. Now it was his time to relax; he took a seat on the couch, propped his feet up on the footstool and let out a contented sigh. Yet, he wouldn't be relaxed for long. Before he could react, the child was upon him.
"What de - - ?" He exclaimed as he felt a sudden weight being dropped onto his back. In the corner of his right eye, he saw it was the persistent Javert. With one smack he sent him flailing away. Lately, children were really getting on his nerves. If it wasn't Gosalyn trying to stop his schemes alongside her father, it was this hooligan.
Determined, the child leapt upon him again and made an attempt to knife him in the back. This attempt failed as he was grabbed by an arm and bitten.
"You 'ave crossed me one too many times, kid!" Steelbeak growled, slamming Javert against the wall with one hand. While making this maneuver, he was slashed across the arm, but paid little heed to his wound. If anything, he was more annoyed that his Armani suit had been torn. His brute strength was enough to keep Javert pinned down, but not for long. What he gained in strength, however, he lacked in speed. Sure, he was fast, but not fast enough.
For Javert, it was the very opposite. Although not powerful, he was small and quick, especially in his attacks. He dug the knife in the rooster's sternum and dragged down toward his abdomen. The cut was made with precision speed, and he laughed wickedly at Steelbeak's horrified yell. When his enemy keeled over in pain, he pushed him off.
"No one could survive such an injury!" Javert mused as he saw the blood and entrails spill out into the carpet. He left the knife embedded in the rooster's body, and with an evil smirk he started to sneak out of the apartment.
"I will kill youse . . . " Steelbeak groaned, pulling the knife out. His eyes filled with hatred, he glared at Javert and swore vengeance upon him. Even in the condition he was in, he knew Javert was out to kill him to take his place.
Javert stopped in the doorway, his hands arrogantly resting on his hips.
"Oh yeah? Well, I don't think you have enough time on this planet
to even think of that!" Quickly, he left the scene just in the nick
of time. Steelbeak's yell had attracted the attention of others,
and was quickly taken to F.O.W.L's medical center.
It was close to two o'clock in the morning when Siege returned to the apartment.
Not surprisingly, she had heard of the attempted murder of Agent Steelbeak.
Being extremely valuable to the organization, Siege wanted to know who
the attacker was. An attack against a fellow agent was considered
against F.O.W.L regulations. It was often punishable by death, isolation
on a desert island or a lifetime locked away in a dungeon.
To many, death was the best way out.
Javert was fast asleep in his bedroom, so she ruled him out as the attacker. She knew how much her son hated the big avian, but also knew Javert was no fool. As her son slept, she watched him. She noticed a few bruises, but otherwise didn't suspect anything.
"Now what?!" Siege growled as her communicator signal went off. She picked it up, and sighed irritably. On the other end of the communicator was Sherman, a rather incompetent agent. The zebra wasn't terribly bright, but nonetheless, he was someone who carried out F.O.W.L's criminal deeds.
"Yes, yes . . . What is it this time, Agent Sherman? You better not be calling me to tell me that the faucet in your apartment in leaking again . . ."
The voice on the other end laughed nervously. "Oh n-no, ma'am! I just thought I'd let you know I saw your son sneaking out of Agent Steelbeak's apartment."
"Ohhhh really . . . ?" She asked, not believing this. "Are you sure it was Javert? I mean, there's many, many young ducks of his age in this city."
"Affirmative!"
A moment of silence came upon Siege as she took another look at her son. On his arm there was the characteristic bite wound, caused by a defensive Steelbeak.