by Roaming Tigress
Chapter Nine:
Of Fangirls and Darkwing Duck
Five years have past and Javert was now a very handsome fifteen year old. Had he been allowed to go out on a date he would've had girls fighting to go out with him. With just one glance, he had the Eggwomen swooning over him as he passed through the hallways. A few of them even spent time on their lunch break to watch him during his shooting practice. They found it terribly depressing that Siege wouldn't allow them to have any sort of relationship with him. It would've softened him too much, she thought.
Like wine, Javert improved with age, not only in appearance but in villainship as well. His aim was as perfect as could be, and his concentration was better than ever. Much to some FOWL employees' jealousy, he was now up on the top ten list of best agents.
"See where I am now, Pine?" He sneered at the overweight hen suffering from obsessive compulsive disorder. "I'm right at number five! That'll soon go up, you'll see." H
Must . . . Resist . . . Urge . . . To poison . . . With cleaning solution. Gritting her teeth, Ammonia Pine let out a groan and trudged down the hallway. She had yet another mess to clean up; the contents of a garbage bin had fallen over in the lobby. To any "ordinary" individual, it was something that could've simply been swept up. To Ammonia Pine, however, it was an emergency!
"Just keep rubbing it in, Adair."
I sure will.
Sauntering outside, Javert saw that his loyal fans were awaiting him at the target practice arena. A short dogface with blonde hair was blindfolded and placed up against the wall. He had been suspected of planning an attack on FOWL, bad enough to bring the organization down. As always, there was no trial; direct execution was the organization's way of getting rid of "pests".
"Good morning, girls. I hope you didn't wait too long!" He smirked wryly at the girly crowd. He rather liked the attention they were giving him, as annoying as they were. Any attention that he got from the organization gave him a boost to his already large ego.
"You know how much I really hate being late for my special pretty little girls!" The Eggwoman were too dim to take note of the sarcasm in his voice.
"Oh no, Javert!" A blonde one exclaimed, practically swooning with joy. "We only waited . . . Five minutes!"
"Eeee! He called us special pretty girls!" Another blonde Eggwoman beamed, falling off the bench. "I have totally died and like, gone to heaven!"
Without saying another word, Javert made a perfect shot to the SHUSH agent's head. The dogface died before he hit the ground.
"What do vou think, girls?" He suavely asked with a French accent, proudly standing over the body. He bowed at their applaud and handed his gun over to the Weapon's Master. Yet another life taken, and another kill to add to my count. I am ze best!
"He is sooo handsome . . . !" A brunette girl squealed, watching him leave. "And so murderous! I love cruel men! You know I once went out with Negaduck."
"Get ahold of yourself, Annette," a plump, dark brown haired Eggwoman muttered depressively. "Javert is SO out of our league! We wouldn't be able to get him in a million years."
"True . . . " The brunette sighed, glumly looking down on the ground. "I suppose there's nothing wrong with dreaming."
Leaving his googly-eyed fans to their drooling, Javert decided to check up on what was going on in the city. Passing by a parked car, he heard a radio's announcement about the agent's death. Somewhere in the report there was a mention that the agent was a family man. Only thirty-two years old as well, and had only begun working for SHUSH. All the more wonderful of a loss!
Since Steelbeak had been relocated to Duckburg for his own safety,
Javert needed someone else to heckle relentlessly. That someone would
be Darkwing Duck, a constant, nagging thorn in his organization's side.
If Javert could assassinate him, the organization would be one step ahead
of it's goal of taking over the city. When that would happen, it
would be just a matter of time until they took over the world.
If
it's danger he wants, it's danger he'll get! Javert spotted Darkwing
atop of a tall building, arrogantly surveying "his" city. He was
just out of shooting range, two more steps and Darkwing would be a dead
duck. No big deal, though. If the relentless teenager wanted
something really good to happen, he would wait for it.
Pulling out a pair of binoculars, Darkwing looked down at the busy city street. It had been reported to him that the son of Siege was believed to have been the killer of the much-loved SHUSH agent.
"There he is . . . " He muttered to himself, spotting Javert reading a newspaper. In a puff of blue smoke, Darkwing disappeared.