Once again, I don't own any of the original Darkwing Duck characters; they are copyright by Disney. And I apologize that it's been a while since I've updated, I've been busy with finals. But after this last week of classes, I'll have more time to work on this story. And don't forget, reviews are welcome J Enjoy!

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PRESENT DAY

It is morning in the aftermath of the opening scene from the confrontation between Darkwing and Negaduck. Harsh sunlight shines on a line of body bags on the dock. Police swarm everywhere, photographers are taking pictures of the scene while a team of men in rolled up sleeves and plastic gloves pick at the remains. Two men on a fire boat operate a water cannon, dousing the smoldering remains of a burned-out ships hull. Watching this from the edge of the pier is a man in a dark suit, who is special agent Jack Bear of the FBI. He is tall and fit gruff-looking grizzly in his late thirties. He gazes out over the water thoughtfully as a uniformed police officer approaches him.

"And who are you, sir? Do you have clearance to be at this site?" the officer asked.

Bear didn't even look the officer in the eye as he flashed his badge and replied with authority. "Agent Bear from the FBI. How many are dead?" he asked as he walked along the dock lined with body bags and the officer followed him. Corpses of FOWL eggmen were still being pulled from the water, burnt beyond recognition.

"Fifteen so far. But we're still pulling bodies out of the water. You looking for someone in particular?"

Bear looked at the officer for the first time, his expression cold and hard. He was not amused. "Are there any survivors?"

"Two." the officer replied. "There's a FOWL agent in the hospital but he's in a coma. The D.A. has the other; some cripple from the east side of St. Canard."

The FBI agent stared at him for a few seconds before turning and quickly making his way through the carnage on the pier, making his way to St. Canard Memorial Hospital. But as he walked down the dock, another charred body was floating in the water under his feet. Only this body had the appearance of a burnt vegetable…

***

It was barely an hour later in the St. Canard Memorial Hospital. A door marked 'INTENSIVE CARE' suddenly flung open and the hallway is now a flurry of activity. Agent Bear quickly rushes through the hallway with a female doctor, Rhoda Walters, beside him.

"Is he talking?" Bear asked as he kept his gaze forward, determined to get to where he was going as quickly as possible.

"He regained consciousness about an hour ago. He's delirious though; it's been kind of hard to make out what he's been trying to say," Walters answered, panting as she struggled to keep up with the fast-paced agent.

Was it a FOWL agent?" Bear continued.

Walters finally managed to come up alongside Bear and passed him a confused expression. "FOWL? I don't…."

"Most of them being pulled out of the water were either FOWL eggmen or agents," he explained to her as they came to the closed door of an intensive care room. Walters opened the door and Bear barreled past her and inside. He then came to an abrupt halt at the foot of a bed surrounded by a massive tangle of medical equipment. Lying in the bed was a nearly unidentifiable FOWL agent whose. His body is nearly mummified in bandages and plaster from waist to chin.

The FOWL agent's eyes instantly rotated upward to glance at Bear. They went wide in recognition as he began to ramble desperately to him. "Are you the police? I need the police. He'll find out I'm here and he'll kill me. I need the police. I will tell them anything they want to know. Please, I am going to be killed!"

For the moment, Bear ignored the ranting of the FOWL agent and began to inquire with the doctors beside him. "Will he die?"

"He's burnt over 60% of his body," a male nurse informed. Bear didn't reply to the answer and moved towards the side of the bed, glancing silently down at the FOWL agent as he continued to bed. This time, he was actually listening.

"I'm going to be killed! We're all going to be killed if he has to do it! Were all going to die!" the agent shouted weakly due to his immense wounds.

Bear stared at him for a moment longer, unfaltering, and then pulled out his cell phone from his jacket. He began to quickly punch in a phone number as he looked up to Walters and demanded urgently. "Call hospital security and put a man on the door until the police get here."

Walters just stared at him, perplexed. "Why? Is he dangerous?"

"Yes!" Bear answered just before someone on the other end of his phone line picked up. "This is Agent Bear. I'm down at St. Canard Memorial with the surviving FOWL henchman they pulled out of the Bay. Yes, I'm sure he's from FOWL…" he explained as the FOWL agent continued to ramble, causing Bear to try and amplify his voice so he could be heard through the phone.

"Why are you all just standing there like idiots?? You've got to get me out of here!" the agent continued. His scorched hands weakly clutched the sheets of the hospital bed as he desperately shook his head. "He's the Devil! Never seen anyone like him! The Devil himself!"

"What? I can't hear you…!" Bear shouted into his phone over the voice of the agent. He then turned around and glared down at him with an annoyed expression. "Would you just up? I'm on the phone here!"

"I'm telling you it's him!" the agent continued, ignoring Bear's demand. "I'm telling you it's NEGADUCK!"

The last word had hit Bear like a truck speeding out of control. It immediately caught his attention and he lowered his phone from his ear and turned back to the agent. At first, he didn't believe what he had said. "What did you say?

The FOWL agent glanced up at him again and paused to take in a few wheezy breaths and utter the name again. "Negaduck…Negaduck!!"

Bear's expression faltered slightly before nodding and returning to his phone call once again. "Yeah, call St. Canard Justice find Dave Cujo from Customs…."

***

PRESENT DAY- POLICE STATION

"Have they charged him with anything?" Cujo asked Sergeant Raden of the St. Canard Police Department while they stood in the hallway.

"Yeah, a weapon's charge. Misdemeanor two," the sergeant answered simply.

"When does he post bail?"

"Two hours, tops."

"I want to see him," Cujo declared as he moved past the sergeant and down the hallway. The sergeant stared after him with a disbelieving stare before hurrying after him.

"Dave, please. Even if I let you talk to him, he won't talk to you! He's paranoid of being tape recorded and he knows that the interrogation rooms are wired," Raden informed as he followed closely on Cujo's heels.

"This won't be an interrogation. Just a…little friendly chat to pass time," Cujo reassured as he stopped in front of his Raden's office.

"But he WON'T go into the interrogation room," Raden enunciated.

Cujo paused and shifted his eyes upwards as if thinking thoroughly. "Well, we'll do it somewhere else then."

"Oh yeah? Like where?"

As if answering Raden's question, Cujo grinned and opened the door to Raden's very messy office. Raden raised an eyebrow at him before shaking his head insistently. "Oh no, no, no, no! Not in here!"

"If it was a gun deal, then where are the guns?" Cujo asked, dismissing Raden's answer as he walked into the office. "And if it was a hit, then who called it in?"

"That's crazy, Dave and it doesn't matter!" Raden continued in regards to his proposal of interrogating Draco. "He has total immunity and his story checks out. He doesn't know what you want to know."

Cujo moved over to the desk that was covered with papers and removed them from the desktop with a swipe of his hand. "I don't think he does. Not exactly, but there's a lot more to his story. I want to know why twenty-seven FOWL eggmen and agents died on that pier for what looks to be ninety-one million dollars worth of firearms that weren't there. Above all, I want to be sure that Darkwing Duck is dead."

Raden raised an eyebrow at Cujo as if he were insane for even considering the possibility of Darkwing Duck still being alive. "He's dead. They're all dead. No matter how tough you say Darkwing Duck was, no one on that boat could've made it out alive."

"Two hours. Just until he makes bail…" Cujo declared.

***

Draco sat alone in Raben's office. He was staring forward with a blank expression at a bulletin board covered in various mug shots, articles, and information sheets. The desk in front of him only had an empty chair behind it as he waited silently. The mallard didn't even reat as he heard the office door behind him open, followed by Raden and Cujo entering the office. Raden walked to behind his desk and took a seat in the empty chair across from Draco while Raden remained standing beside the desk.

Cujo looked down at Draco and cleared is throat to get his attention. "Draco, you know we're only trying to help you."

Draco looked up at him and merely shrugged carelessly with a moderate expression on his face. "Sure. And I appreciate that. And I want to help you, Agent Cujo. I like cops. I would have liked to have been a Fed myself."

"Draco, I know you know something. I know you're not telling us everything," Cujo accused with an unconvinced stare.

"I told the D.A. everything I know."

Cujo rolled his eyes and sighed. "I know you liked Darkwing. I know you think he was a good man."

"I know he was good," he replied.

"He was corrupt, Draco. He was just using his vigilante identity as a cover," Cujo informed him matter-of-factly with a smug tone in his voice. "Look, I just want your side of the story."

Draco looked up at him suspiciously before tapping his finger on a stack of papers that Cujo had brought in and set on the desk. "It's all right here.

Picking up the stack of papers, Cujo began to flip through them. "According to your statement you are a short-con operator. Run of the mill seams. Everything you do, you learned from somebody else," he summarized.

"That's been suppressed. Anything in there is inadmissible," Draco replied coolly.

"I know. That's a pretty good deal you have going there. Total immunity." Cujo continued to thumb through the papers for a moment longer, then sighed impatiently before setting them back down on the desk and turning to Draco with a hard stare. "I'll get right to the point. I'm smarter than you. I'll find out what I want to know and I'll get it from you whether you like it or not."

Draco looked up at Cujo, his one good eye narrowing in an offended glare. "I'm not a rat, if that's what you're trying to make me out to be…" he stated. He then reached for a cup of coffee he had bee drinking while waiting for the two agents to arrive and took a sip of the hot drink. "Back when I was picking beans in Guatemala we used to make fresh coffee right off the trees. That was good stuff. This is shit, but hey, I'm in a police station…"

"Can we get started?" Raden interrupted impatiently. Cujo nodded in agreement and turned back to Draco.

"Alright. Now tell us what happened after the line-up…"