Chapter Sixteen:
The Rescue
Ever groggily, Steelbeak lifted his head up from the cold pavement of what resembled a jail cell. All around him were heavy bars, and as he gripped hold of one of them with his hands, he received a painful shock. He jolted out of his half-conscious state, looking around in panic. Where was he? How could he get out? Were was his Darkwing to save him now?
The room he was being held captive appeared to be some sort of dungeon. It reminded him somewhat of the jails he was brought in kicking and fighting, but only more derelict. There was paint peeling off the ceiling, and the only light he got was from a broken jail cell window that had been crudely pieced with tape.
From what he could tell, there were no other cells. He was alone in this damp, unfeeling environment, and was desperate to get out. The sound of a door open had caused him to jump out of his self contempt, and he got his hopes up. Perhaps his mallard friend had come for him. Perhaps they came to release him, realizing that forcing him to stay in such a condition would be enough.
"Could it be?" He asked himself with curiosity, hearing approaching footsteps. Normally Darkwing never wore shoes, so if it wasn't him, who else could it be?
Coming through the door was a tall figure wearing a black trench coat. He was an aging but proud looking vulture, about fifty-five years of age with small beady and unblinking eyes. He stood in front of Steelbeak's cell, leering at his predicament.
"Ahhh . . . Agent Steelbeak! What a pleasure it is to see you here all caged up!" He spoke in the same hissing voice he used behind the High Command silhouette. The rooster didn't recognize him by sight, but he sure knew who he was by voice alone.
"When you first joined F.O.W.L, what were the rules?"
"To woik toward de goal of woild domination!" Steelbeak, surprised at seeing a member of High Command out behind the High Command chamber screen, replied rather hastily.
"That is part of your mission statement, I asked for the rules!" Jerold demanded, pacing back and forth. "I have always thought of you as being brighter than the rest. This forgetful attitude of yours is rather a disappointment to me."
"Fine, fine . . . " Steelbeak muttered, noticing that his jacket had been stained with muck of unknown substance.
"D'ya want de short list or de long?"
"Whatever . . . " Jerold groaned, feeling a headache develop. "Just tell me what rules have been drilled into your head through all these years."
"I must not disobey orders under any circumstances. I can't become soft in heart, and I must not give out information to outside organizations!" The agent answered calmly, making eye contact with his superior.
"Sleeping on de job is against regulations, and I must regularly refreshen my problem-solving skills. In addition, my weapon-handling knowledge test must be taken ev'ry month wit'out fail!"
"Good for a start . . . " Jerold mused, rubbing a finger under his sharp beak. "Do continue. I'm sure an agent of your caliber can remember them all."
"I can't turn myself into police, and if dey arrest me I must resist. Missions must be started and completed at de exact date and time, I cannot switch partners wit'out checkin' in wit' High Command . . . " Steelbeak droned on, purposely leaving out the sleeping with the enemies rule.
"I think you forgot a few back there . . . " Jerold smirked, scoldingly shaking a finger. "Quite a few, as a matter of fact."
"If I am ordered to go to missions outside de continent, I must take de proper inoculations," Steelbeak answered, sounding a little weary at watching his boss pace.
"If I am to be giving vacation time, I cannot use it to woik alongside other villains wit'out prior permission of 'Igh Command. Development of weaponry and plans of woild domination must be shared wit' de rest of de organization."
"Good, you got most of the basic rules down," Jerold sighed, noticing the agent had dodged some of the most important ones.
"Now, you did leave out one. Think back, try to remember what it may be."
"I'm not allowed to answer any questions about what 'append to my real beak?" Steelbeak asked, pretending to sound a touch forgetful.
"No, not that one!" Jerold growled with irritation, running a hand through his silver hair. "Think, Steelbeak, think! Remember that agent that we had to have Javert dispose of at the age of twelve? Can you recall why he was taken out and used for target practice? It wasn't just because he was completely useless to us."
Thinking back, Steelbeak recalled a fellow rooster that had been taken out by target practice. He had been involved in a relationship with someone from SHUSH, and when this was found out, the agent was swiftly executed. With great reluctance, he gave the answer.
"Relationships wit' anyone against F.O.W.L, especially relationships of homosexual nature, are strictly prohibited." He bowed his head in dread, knowing they wouldn't go easy on him.
"And what did Javert catch you in the act of?" Jerold asked rather snidely, a slight sneer forming across his ugly face. He reached a hand into the pocket of his trench coat, pulling out a digital camera.
"I can't believe it . . . I'm gonna kill dat Javert!" Steelbeak snapped, looking in horror at the pictures that the dastardly duck had taken.
"You're going to have to believe it. These pictures were not edited in any shape or form!" Jerold said, snatching the camera away just as Steelbeak made a grab for it. He stunned the rooster with a tazer he had hidden in his trench coat, and delighted in seeing him in pain.
"Now, as you may know, breaking this rule can result in deadly consequences. If it were just a mere police officer, I might let you off easy. Now that we had found out it was Darkwing Duck, I'm afraid it's game over for you."
There was not a trace of fear in Steelbeak's eyes as the vulture stared him down. Jerold may well be a High Commander, but even racked with pain and the threat of death, he wasn't giving up just yet. He suddenly reached a hand through the bars and grabbed Jerold by the throat. By doing so, the rooster recieved a strong electric shock, but he ignored it through his rage.
"Just 'ow stupid d'ya t'ink I am?" Steelbeak asked, tightening his grip and bringing Jerold's face up to his. "I may be loyal and obedient to F.O.W.L, but dat loyalty and dat obedience only goes so far."
Not expecting Steelbeak's sudden show of violence, Jerold merely gasped for breath. Even if it was just one hand that was around his neck, the rooster's brute strength seemed all too much for him. The electrical current had traveled from the rooster to himself, and he struggled in vain to get away.
Soon, a wildcard turned up and the vulture would have his moment of freedom. Steelbeak suddenly let go of him as he crumpled to the floor. The electrical current from the bars became too overwhelming, and Steelbeak felt himself slip into shock. With an agonized groan, he grasped his chest and had a mild seizure.
A minute later, sparks flew from the bars. Steelbeak had managed to shut down the electrical bar-shocking mechanism.
"Give him the captive bolt treatment, Javert, he's pretty much already down!" Jerold instructed over a walkie-talkie, observing the rooster laying very still.
"We'll take him out slaughterhouse style!" He added, not noticing a familiar cloud of blue smoke appear behind him.
"And I'll take you out the crime fighting style!" The crimefighter's disembodied voice shouted back. "I am the terror that flaps in the night! I am the spam you cannot block from your inbox! I am Darkwing Duck!"
Before Jerold could react, Darkwing Duck kicked him in the back of his knee and knocked him to the ground.
"Release the rooster or suck gas, evildoer!" He demanded, holding the gas gun to the back of Jerold's head and preparing to squeeze the trigger.
"Tell me one reason I should, do-gooder!" The vulture asked snidely, reaching a hand into his pocket for his knife. "You know, you've succeeded in not only in marring Steelbeak's name but you gave him a premature death sentence as well."
Spotting the danger he'd be in if he didn't react quickly enough, Darkwing Duck wasted no time handcuffing the High Commander.
"Hah! I'd like to see you kill an ant with your arms behind your back!" He taunted, holding him down with one foot on his back.
In the corner of his eyes he could see Steelbeak stirring in the corner of the cell, obviously in some sort of pain. The anger he felt made him want to beat the living daylights out of the lowlife vulture, but he refrained from doing so. He had to focus his attention onto getting his companion out of harm's way and getting Jerold into prison were he belonged.
"Steelbeak? Can you hear me?" He asked gently, bending down to him. "I've come to get you out of here. We're coming home."
When the only response was a pained moan, the mallard snatched a pair of keys from Jerold and quickly unlocked the cell. He held onto one of Steelbeak's hand and using all the strength he had, he helped him up onto his uneasy feet.
"Youse couldda been killed! " Steelbeak exclaimed with a raspy voice, looking at a nasty electrical burn on his wrist. In spite of his condition, he was still stubborn as ever.
"Dat bein' said . . . T'ank youse once again!" He smiled a little, more than just grateful for Darkwing's intervention.
"Trust me, I'd be willing to die for you!" Darkwing truthfully said in return, dialing the police on his Thunderquack shaped cell phone.
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Disclaimer: Steelbeak and Darkwing Duck, and other characters mentioned excluding Javert and a few minor chars' are © Disney.