Mission 1: Operation Songbird, Part 1
Disclaimer: Same as before. The Deep Space Nine character of Vic Fontaine isn't mine. If you'd like, suggest other worlds that our hero (Rusty) could visit in his missions. Wayne Lefessier, J.D. McNugent, and Darren Silverman are a tribute to one of my favorite movies, Saving Silverman.
Story so far: SAS officer Rusty Puckett is recruited to help with a spy organization called the OSS (Office of Strategic Services). When he reports to HQ he meets Diane Schonke, a woman he's loved since he knew her. Rusty is sent on a mission to rescue lounge singer and anti-Heartless informant Vic Fontaine from the clutches of the local villain, Cruella DeVille.
~ ~ ~ ~
2100 (9 P.M., military time), the aviator's chronometer on my wrist says. Perfect time to scout Mr. Fontaine's flat in the Delphi Hotel. From the map that I procured before heading over here I know it lies about due south of my position currently.
With the tiny Silva compass in my pocket and some starlight navigation I picked up in Egypt I make my way over there. When I reach the hotel I'm almost glad I decided to pack the Browning, because I see a patrol of a half dozen Soldier Heartless walk by the front of the place. I take another close look inside and see still more Heartless inside it, going through what has to be Vic's suite.
There's no way in hell I'll be able to silently infiltrate tonight, but I'll go do a few hours of CTR (Close Target Reconnaissance) to try and determine the vigilance of the guards, state of readiness and the like. But first I have to make contact with the Resistance before I attempt my break in. As I'm watching the place I see two guys, one tall and skinny, the other short and fat.
"Hey Jasper, do you think the boss will let us keep the stuff we took out of Fontaine's suite?"
"What she doesn't know won't hurt us." Jasper replied to the shorter guy, Horace, "Besides she did say we could keep a certain percentage of what we find but that the encryption stuff was to go straight to her along with any expensive furs and jewelry Fontaine might keep around. Anything else for us is fair game."
"Sweet. A lounge lizard like Vic Fontaine's bound to have some high quality junk lying around." Horace replied.
These guys are so close that I can smell the cheap six pence cigar that Jasper was smoking. They proceed into Fontaine's flat and I know there's no way in hell I can infiltrate the place. Well its best I go find a place to sleep before I go meet my contacts. I know that they'll be in Sea World tomorrow and the code phrase Diane gave me will be used to contact me.
I have some false currency and a small travel bag with a newspaper and a book, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, by Jules Verne. That's the sign that my contacts know who I am. Newspapers are good for CTR reconnaissance. It's perfectly plausible for an observer to appear to be tucked into a newspaper in a crowded setting and just peer over the paper and keep an eye on a mark. I also have a false ID under the pseudonym of Raymond Payton. I'm holding on to that after the mission, you never know when these things come might in handy.
"Mr. Payton. You're room is room 238." The receptionist says.
"Thank you ma'am." I reply, faking a yawn, "Well I'd best get to bed, if I hope to beat the tourist crowd in the morning."
I get into my room. It's a basic affair, one bed, a radio and a television set. I take my shoes and socks off and take the Browning off of my belt. It already has a round chambered and the safety catch on to prevent accidentally firing the weapon. But if I have an uninvited guest in the middle of the night they will have an unexpected surprise in the form of some 9mm rounds. I am a light sleeper after all.
I've rigged the only two entrances with simple but effective devices. The chair propped against the doorknob will mean extra effort, equaling noise liable to wake me. The window, I've rigged with the noisy metal waste bin that moves whenever someone moves it even a centimeter. I've also noticed the fire escape is squeaky and locked the window. I've also moved the bed away from the window, so a sniper doesn't have a clear shot at me. Call me paranoid but it pays to be over cautious rather than under cautious.
~ ~ ~ ~
"Rusty, have you met Chris Powers, my boyfriend?" Diane asks.
"No, can't say that I haven't." I reply.
Moments after I left Lawanda's house, senior year of high school, I went over to Diane's house, ostensibly to discuss physics. I had a Valentine's day card and three long stemmed red roses in my knapsack for her.
"Do you need any more help?" I ask, hiding the shock and trauma within. It is when I make it outside to Diane's house that I feel the pain.
"Not really. Thank you for stopping by Rusty." Diane replies, smiling, "I really appreciated you coming by to help."
"You know me, always glad to help a friend." I reply, as I grab my coat and head downstairs for the door.
"Rusty, are you sure you don't want me to drive you home?" Diane asks.
"No thank you, I'd rather walk." I reply.
"Rusty it's raining out there." Diane replies.
"In Britain we call this beach weather." I reply nonchalantly.
Numb with pain I walk on through the driving rain, I stop at a footbridge in the park. It was here where I first met Diane, the start of our Freshman year of high school. I look into the pond, briefly considering hurling myself in and allowing myself to be swallowed by the depths. It is a seductive call, alluring as that of a Siren, the ancient monsters whose singing often lured sailors to their deaths.
I remove the rose and card from my bag and with a sad look at the night skies, lit up briefly by the actinic flashes of lightning, throw them into the pond and walk away as the rain soaks through my clothing on the long walk back to my home. No, scratch that, Lawanda's house isn't home for me any more than the orphanage was. I am Rusty Puckett, and if I am to be without a home, than bereft I am. I've not known love and affection since I was ten years old.
Diane's friendship with me awoke the dying embers of that memory. Despite the constant putdowns Lawanda threw my way, Diane's friendship healed the suffering within. I know now that I am without love or friendship or affection.
"Fine!" I declare to the storming skies, half choked sobs and tears of angst melding with the rain going down my face and throat, "If that's how you wish to treat me, then that's how you chose to treat me!"
As I declare this, it is almost as if some of the dark clouds form a face with glowing yellow eyes, with long black flowing locks and a beard. And as I stare back into it's face with my thousand yard stare I see it's features contort with laughter as a giant black hand reaches towards me.
No matter how I run, the hand pursues me. I run inside Lawanda's house, the last place I would ever choose to be, and the hand catches up to me as I pull at the locked door. I must've dropped my key in my mad dash down the road. The creature open's its maw and throws me into its gaping maw and I fall endlessly into darkness...
~ ~ ~ ~
I sit bolt upright in bed, the Browning in my right hand. It was just a dream, for the most part. It was the memory that drove me back to Britannica, into the Army, and finally the SAS. Aside from the strange face and hand, and that whole chase, that's how it all happened. It's a metaphor I suppose, about how I spiraled into darkness after Diane shared her good news with me. I check my alarm clock, 0700 (7 A.M. for civilians), the early crowds should be forming up in two hours.
I'm not really in the mood to go back to bed, so I'll just stick to scouting around. I get dressed, pack my small kit bag, slinging it over one shoulder, and make sure my shirt tail conceals the fact that I've got the Browning and two spare clips concealed on me. I watch as two Heartless walk down the corridors, staring up at me with their glowing yellow eyes. It serves to drive home to me the fact that I am alone in entirely hostile territory. Though they are instructed not to harm guests in the hotel unless they step out of line, I'm still tempted to gun them down where they stand. I keep my cool and head down for the continental breakfast.
It's another standard practice for frontlines soldiers. If you're not on duty either eat or sleep because you'll never know when or if you'll be able to do so again. A table in the room provides the perfect OP (observation post) for Vic Fontaine's suite. I see Jasper and Horace emerge as I appear, without much need to act, to be hungrily devouring my breakfast. They're carrying bags with expensive cigars, a radio, and several records of Vic's greatest hits and a couple books.
I notice there are two fellows in long, black leather trench coats and black clothes bearing the Heartless emblem on their shoulders and a third in civvies. Maleficent's Secret Police, recruited from local villains and armed by weapons produced by the resources stolen from conquered worlds; ruthlessly help the Heartless keep control of worlds they occupy. They're heading straight into Vic Fontaine's suite. Between the patrols, the three policemen and Jasper and Horace I'm not about to go in their guns blazing, it's tantamount to suicide. No, I'll keep watch on the place, maybe get help from the Resistance and then break in and destroy what I'm supposed to destroy.
If anything I know Vic Fontaine's in the hand of the head villain of this world, Cruella DeVille. After she helped Maleficent and the Heartless take over her world, she migrated to Sea World to help in the Heartless takeover of that world. I spend the rest of the time before I catch the shuttle bus to Sea World reconnoitering the hotel for possible ways to break in unobserved into Fontaine's suite.
A little under an hour and a half later I've found a possible way to sneak into Fontaine's suite, first I'll have to go don a disguise, making sure, as always the Browning is close by. But first I'd best make contact with the Resistance.
~ ~ ~ ~
"Tell me, Mr. Fontaine, what do you know?" Cruella deVille said, tapping the long cigarette holder against the lounge singer's arm.
"I know about love, life, and women..." Vic Fontaine replied. He was a handsome, older fellow with silver hair, normally combed slicked back was disheveled. His tuxedo was torn in a few places, a couple buttons were missing and his bow tie was gone.
"Wrong answer Mr. Fontaine..." Cruella replied, as Jasper struck Vic across the face, splitting his lip.
"Listen pallie, I told you all I know." Vic replied, "Where do you want me to begin?"
"Well, 'pallie'," Jasper began, "I suggest you begin with telling us about your involvement with the Allies..."
"What?" Vic said, "Listen, I'm just a lounge singer. I sing songs and tell jokes for a living, I don't know what you're talking about."
"Well, since you seem to be uncooperative at this moment, maybe some incentives are in order..." Cruella threatened Vic.
~ ~ ~ ~
I head for a known Dead Letter Box (DLB), underneath a display in the Shark Encounter area near the barracuda tank. I got paged ostensibly for a lost wallet in the assay office. The clerk gave me a sealed envelope and I opened it up. It contained the words Striped Fish, DLB.
Dead letter boxes are any place where an agent can hide messages to another agent. I head for the Shark Encounter and stand in front of the barracuda tank. I feel underneath the display and find a piece of paper.
It's a torn piece of a map, a Sea World guide map that points to the Odyssea Theater. It says, 'wink twice if you like what you see' written on it. Sadly the Shark Encounter has one only exit I can use without attracting unwanted attention. So I've got to go through the entire ride. I walk through the display of the shark tank and I swear I see a human foot in the water of the tank.
~ ~ ~ ~
"Well Mr. Fontaine," Cruella said, "Next time it will be your entire body that winds up in this tank if you don't tell me where your communication set and codebooks are."
Jasper and Horace had been holding Vic Fontaine over the shark tank, his shoes and socks removed. The pair dunked Vic's feet into the tank, allowing him to feel the sand paper skin of the sharks rubbing against them. Vic tried to scream through the rag stuffed in his mouth that was tied in place by another rag.
"Take him away. If he doesn't talk by tomorrow night, the sharks will have a little variety in their diet." Cruella replied.
~ ~ ~ ~
Odyssea Theater, an acrobatic display, a musical show, and the like all with an undersea theme, and that's where I'm currently waiting in line while a trio of boardwalk performers called Diamonds in the Rough perform for us.
"She got the way to move me, Cherry." They sing. They consist of brown haired young man, skinny but not in a marathon runner's way, a fellow with longish sandy blonde hair and mustache, and a fat guy with long reddish brown hair. They're wearing shirts that glisten silver, blue, and red for the skinny guy, the mustachioed one, and the fat guy respectively.
I wink twice, noticeably. The silver shirted fellow winks back at me and as I pass them in the line I toss them a couple dollar bills. They're warming up for their next song and as the silver shirted fellow goes over ostensibly to adjust the sign that says Tips that's propping a guitar case open. As he does so he subtly hands me a note.
I slide both hands into my pocket, every bit the bored tourist waiting for the show to start. I sit down on a planter and pull out my copy of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. The three singers already know that they've given their messages to the right guy because one of the coded messages Diane sent before I headed out was simply '20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.'
I read their message that says, simply, 'Mango Joe's, 1300.' My watch reads 1030 right now so I've got two and a half hours before I'm due to show up. So I figure I might as well enjoy the show, and an amazing spectacle it is. I watch stunts that would put the best trapeze artists of Cirque de Soleil to shame. I laugh at some comedy ocean themed acts, and can almost pretend I'm a tourist. But the back corner of my mind realizes that I've got a mission to execute. What would make this already spectacular show wonderful would be to see this world freed from the Heartless and the woman I love curled up at my side watching it with me, enjoying it of her own accord.
~ ~ ~ ~
Mango Joe's Café is a small place, with several outside tables. I order a steak with French fries and coleslaw and sit down at an outdoor table. The three lads I'd seen earlier performing are now in regular clothes and head over to the table.
"Jules Verne." The first one says, he was the brown haired bloke I called Silver. Blue was the mustachioed bloke, and Red was the fat bloke, "Great author."
"This is true. Come, sit down if you'd like to talk..." I say.
"Hey guys, what do you want to order?" Silver says.
"I'll take a burger, fries and a coke." Blue says.
"I'll take a burger, with cheese, large fries, onion rings, cole slaw and a coke..." Red replies.
"Wayne Lefessier." Blue says.
"J.D. McNugent." Red replies, "The other guy's our best pal, Darren Silverman."
"Raymond Payton." I reply, naturally. I rehearsed in my room that whenever I give a name it will be Raymond Payton instead of my real one, Rusty Puckett.
"Well Ray," Wayne says, "We can't really talk much hear, but I can tell you Vic was on to something big when he disappeared. Meet us before closing time, at nine forty five."
"Wait, Wayne, didn't we agree on a quarter to ten." J.D. says.
Wayne slaps his forehead and says, "J.D. we agreed on a quarter to ten, aka nine forty five."
Meal finishes and with nothing else to do for the rest of the day I perform some reconnaissance around the area. I find good evasion routes; note the location of security offices and Heartless patrols. Because I know I'm gonna lift Vic Fontaine out of here ASAP, I will have to go through this area. I notice several tan uniformed men, carrying holstered pistols at their sides. They have the Sea World logo on their sleeves and blue ball caps that read Security on them.
~ ~ ~ ~
2145. As I walk out of the park I run into J.D., Wayne, and Darren. They silently motion me over and we all head for the Delphi Hotel, where I'm currently staying. As soon as we get inside the room I lock the door.
"What was Vic on to?" I ask.
"We don't know, exactly." Wayne replies, "But we know it's something big, Maleficent has something planned, something needing seaborne animals."
"Yeah, we've seen fish and sharks, and even dolphins get taken from the park for some odd reason." Wayne replies, "So what's your angle?"
"I'm here to rescue Vic Fontaine." I reply, "He's the top Allied informant here. How do you think Allied intelligence knows were the targets are without hitting your park or the tourist areas?"
"I could use some help," I continue, "I have to destroy Vic's encryption equipment and codebooks, otherwise our entire communication systems with Resistance forces on many other worlds could be compromised."
"We'll help you." Darren says, "But we'll need a favor from you in return. In the Assay Office is a cache of weapons the Allies sent to our Resistance forces here. Maleficent's forces intercepted the shipment, though, and our last couple attempts to get it back have resulted in two captured and three dead."
I realize I'm gonna have to make a deal here if I'm to carry out my operation, "Right. And if I do so, will you help me rescue Vic Fontaine?"
"We'll do it, pallie." Wayne replies.
"Right," I reply, "This is what we'll do..."
~ ~ ~ ~
Next: Our heroes break and enter and liberate the weapons cache...
TBC (I'll get to the action/adventure in the next chapter.)
Disclaimer: Same as before. The Deep Space Nine character of Vic Fontaine isn't mine. If you'd like, suggest other worlds that our hero (Rusty) could visit in his missions. Wayne Lefessier, J.D. McNugent, and Darren Silverman are a tribute to one of my favorite movies, Saving Silverman.
Story so far: SAS officer Rusty Puckett is recruited to help with a spy organization called the OSS (Office of Strategic Services). When he reports to HQ he meets Diane Schonke, a woman he's loved since he knew her. Rusty is sent on a mission to rescue lounge singer and anti-Heartless informant Vic Fontaine from the clutches of the local villain, Cruella DeVille.
~ ~ ~ ~
2100 (9 P.M., military time), the aviator's chronometer on my wrist says. Perfect time to scout Mr. Fontaine's flat in the Delphi Hotel. From the map that I procured before heading over here I know it lies about due south of my position currently.
With the tiny Silva compass in my pocket and some starlight navigation I picked up in Egypt I make my way over there. When I reach the hotel I'm almost glad I decided to pack the Browning, because I see a patrol of a half dozen Soldier Heartless walk by the front of the place. I take another close look inside and see still more Heartless inside it, going through what has to be Vic's suite.
There's no way in hell I'll be able to silently infiltrate tonight, but I'll go do a few hours of CTR (Close Target Reconnaissance) to try and determine the vigilance of the guards, state of readiness and the like. But first I have to make contact with the Resistance before I attempt my break in. As I'm watching the place I see two guys, one tall and skinny, the other short and fat.
"Hey Jasper, do you think the boss will let us keep the stuff we took out of Fontaine's suite?"
"What she doesn't know won't hurt us." Jasper replied to the shorter guy, Horace, "Besides she did say we could keep a certain percentage of what we find but that the encryption stuff was to go straight to her along with any expensive furs and jewelry Fontaine might keep around. Anything else for us is fair game."
"Sweet. A lounge lizard like Vic Fontaine's bound to have some high quality junk lying around." Horace replied.
These guys are so close that I can smell the cheap six pence cigar that Jasper was smoking. They proceed into Fontaine's flat and I know there's no way in hell I can infiltrate the place. Well its best I go find a place to sleep before I go meet my contacts. I know that they'll be in Sea World tomorrow and the code phrase Diane gave me will be used to contact me.
I have some false currency and a small travel bag with a newspaper and a book, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, by Jules Verne. That's the sign that my contacts know who I am. Newspapers are good for CTR reconnaissance. It's perfectly plausible for an observer to appear to be tucked into a newspaper in a crowded setting and just peer over the paper and keep an eye on a mark. I also have a false ID under the pseudonym of Raymond Payton. I'm holding on to that after the mission, you never know when these things come might in handy.
"Mr. Payton. You're room is room 238." The receptionist says.
"Thank you ma'am." I reply, faking a yawn, "Well I'd best get to bed, if I hope to beat the tourist crowd in the morning."
I get into my room. It's a basic affair, one bed, a radio and a television set. I take my shoes and socks off and take the Browning off of my belt. It already has a round chambered and the safety catch on to prevent accidentally firing the weapon. But if I have an uninvited guest in the middle of the night they will have an unexpected surprise in the form of some 9mm rounds. I am a light sleeper after all.
I've rigged the only two entrances with simple but effective devices. The chair propped against the doorknob will mean extra effort, equaling noise liable to wake me. The window, I've rigged with the noisy metal waste bin that moves whenever someone moves it even a centimeter. I've also noticed the fire escape is squeaky and locked the window. I've also moved the bed away from the window, so a sniper doesn't have a clear shot at me. Call me paranoid but it pays to be over cautious rather than under cautious.
~ ~ ~ ~
"Rusty, have you met Chris Powers, my boyfriend?" Diane asks.
"No, can't say that I haven't." I reply.
Moments after I left Lawanda's house, senior year of high school, I went over to Diane's house, ostensibly to discuss physics. I had a Valentine's day card and three long stemmed red roses in my knapsack for her.
"Do you need any more help?" I ask, hiding the shock and trauma within. It is when I make it outside to Diane's house that I feel the pain.
"Not really. Thank you for stopping by Rusty." Diane replies, smiling, "I really appreciated you coming by to help."
"You know me, always glad to help a friend." I reply, as I grab my coat and head downstairs for the door.
"Rusty, are you sure you don't want me to drive you home?" Diane asks.
"No thank you, I'd rather walk." I reply.
"Rusty it's raining out there." Diane replies.
"In Britain we call this beach weather." I reply nonchalantly.
Numb with pain I walk on through the driving rain, I stop at a footbridge in the park. It was here where I first met Diane, the start of our Freshman year of high school. I look into the pond, briefly considering hurling myself in and allowing myself to be swallowed by the depths. It is a seductive call, alluring as that of a Siren, the ancient monsters whose singing often lured sailors to their deaths.
I remove the rose and card from my bag and with a sad look at the night skies, lit up briefly by the actinic flashes of lightning, throw them into the pond and walk away as the rain soaks through my clothing on the long walk back to my home. No, scratch that, Lawanda's house isn't home for me any more than the orphanage was. I am Rusty Puckett, and if I am to be without a home, than bereft I am. I've not known love and affection since I was ten years old.
Diane's friendship with me awoke the dying embers of that memory. Despite the constant putdowns Lawanda threw my way, Diane's friendship healed the suffering within. I know now that I am without love or friendship or affection.
"Fine!" I declare to the storming skies, half choked sobs and tears of angst melding with the rain going down my face and throat, "If that's how you wish to treat me, then that's how you chose to treat me!"
As I declare this, it is almost as if some of the dark clouds form a face with glowing yellow eyes, with long black flowing locks and a beard. And as I stare back into it's face with my thousand yard stare I see it's features contort with laughter as a giant black hand reaches towards me.
No matter how I run, the hand pursues me. I run inside Lawanda's house, the last place I would ever choose to be, and the hand catches up to me as I pull at the locked door. I must've dropped my key in my mad dash down the road. The creature open's its maw and throws me into its gaping maw and I fall endlessly into darkness...
~ ~ ~ ~
I sit bolt upright in bed, the Browning in my right hand. It was just a dream, for the most part. It was the memory that drove me back to Britannica, into the Army, and finally the SAS. Aside from the strange face and hand, and that whole chase, that's how it all happened. It's a metaphor I suppose, about how I spiraled into darkness after Diane shared her good news with me. I check my alarm clock, 0700 (7 A.M. for civilians), the early crowds should be forming up in two hours.
I'm not really in the mood to go back to bed, so I'll just stick to scouting around. I get dressed, pack my small kit bag, slinging it over one shoulder, and make sure my shirt tail conceals the fact that I've got the Browning and two spare clips concealed on me. I watch as two Heartless walk down the corridors, staring up at me with their glowing yellow eyes. It serves to drive home to me the fact that I am alone in entirely hostile territory. Though they are instructed not to harm guests in the hotel unless they step out of line, I'm still tempted to gun them down where they stand. I keep my cool and head down for the continental breakfast.
It's another standard practice for frontlines soldiers. If you're not on duty either eat or sleep because you'll never know when or if you'll be able to do so again. A table in the room provides the perfect OP (observation post) for Vic Fontaine's suite. I see Jasper and Horace emerge as I appear, without much need to act, to be hungrily devouring my breakfast. They're carrying bags with expensive cigars, a radio, and several records of Vic's greatest hits and a couple books.
I notice there are two fellows in long, black leather trench coats and black clothes bearing the Heartless emblem on their shoulders and a third in civvies. Maleficent's Secret Police, recruited from local villains and armed by weapons produced by the resources stolen from conquered worlds; ruthlessly help the Heartless keep control of worlds they occupy. They're heading straight into Vic Fontaine's suite. Between the patrols, the three policemen and Jasper and Horace I'm not about to go in their guns blazing, it's tantamount to suicide. No, I'll keep watch on the place, maybe get help from the Resistance and then break in and destroy what I'm supposed to destroy.
If anything I know Vic Fontaine's in the hand of the head villain of this world, Cruella DeVille. After she helped Maleficent and the Heartless take over her world, she migrated to Sea World to help in the Heartless takeover of that world. I spend the rest of the time before I catch the shuttle bus to Sea World reconnoitering the hotel for possible ways to break in unobserved into Fontaine's suite.
A little under an hour and a half later I've found a possible way to sneak into Fontaine's suite, first I'll have to go don a disguise, making sure, as always the Browning is close by. But first I'd best make contact with the Resistance.
~ ~ ~ ~
"Tell me, Mr. Fontaine, what do you know?" Cruella deVille said, tapping the long cigarette holder against the lounge singer's arm.
"I know about love, life, and women..." Vic Fontaine replied. He was a handsome, older fellow with silver hair, normally combed slicked back was disheveled. His tuxedo was torn in a few places, a couple buttons were missing and his bow tie was gone.
"Wrong answer Mr. Fontaine..." Cruella replied, as Jasper struck Vic across the face, splitting his lip.
"Listen pallie, I told you all I know." Vic replied, "Where do you want me to begin?"
"Well, 'pallie'," Jasper began, "I suggest you begin with telling us about your involvement with the Allies..."
"What?" Vic said, "Listen, I'm just a lounge singer. I sing songs and tell jokes for a living, I don't know what you're talking about."
"Well, since you seem to be uncooperative at this moment, maybe some incentives are in order..." Cruella threatened Vic.
~ ~ ~ ~
I head for a known Dead Letter Box (DLB), underneath a display in the Shark Encounter area near the barracuda tank. I got paged ostensibly for a lost wallet in the assay office. The clerk gave me a sealed envelope and I opened it up. It contained the words Striped Fish, DLB.
Dead letter boxes are any place where an agent can hide messages to another agent. I head for the Shark Encounter and stand in front of the barracuda tank. I feel underneath the display and find a piece of paper.
It's a torn piece of a map, a Sea World guide map that points to the Odyssea Theater. It says, 'wink twice if you like what you see' written on it. Sadly the Shark Encounter has one only exit I can use without attracting unwanted attention. So I've got to go through the entire ride. I walk through the display of the shark tank and I swear I see a human foot in the water of the tank.
~ ~ ~ ~
"Well Mr. Fontaine," Cruella said, "Next time it will be your entire body that winds up in this tank if you don't tell me where your communication set and codebooks are."
Jasper and Horace had been holding Vic Fontaine over the shark tank, his shoes and socks removed. The pair dunked Vic's feet into the tank, allowing him to feel the sand paper skin of the sharks rubbing against them. Vic tried to scream through the rag stuffed in his mouth that was tied in place by another rag.
"Take him away. If he doesn't talk by tomorrow night, the sharks will have a little variety in their diet." Cruella replied.
~ ~ ~ ~
Odyssea Theater, an acrobatic display, a musical show, and the like all with an undersea theme, and that's where I'm currently waiting in line while a trio of boardwalk performers called Diamonds in the Rough perform for us.
"She got the way to move me, Cherry." They sing. They consist of brown haired young man, skinny but not in a marathon runner's way, a fellow with longish sandy blonde hair and mustache, and a fat guy with long reddish brown hair. They're wearing shirts that glisten silver, blue, and red for the skinny guy, the mustachioed one, and the fat guy respectively.
I wink twice, noticeably. The silver shirted fellow winks back at me and as I pass them in the line I toss them a couple dollar bills. They're warming up for their next song and as the silver shirted fellow goes over ostensibly to adjust the sign that says Tips that's propping a guitar case open. As he does so he subtly hands me a note.
I slide both hands into my pocket, every bit the bored tourist waiting for the show to start. I sit down on a planter and pull out my copy of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. The three singers already know that they've given their messages to the right guy because one of the coded messages Diane sent before I headed out was simply '20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.'
I read their message that says, simply, 'Mango Joe's, 1300.' My watch reads 1030 right now so I've got two and a half hours before I'm due to show up. So I figure I might as well enjoy the show, and an amazing spectacle it is. I watch stunts that would put the best trapeze artists of Cirque de Soleil to shame. I laugh at some comedy ocean themed acts, and can almost pretend I'm a tourist. But the back corner of my mind realizes that I've got a mission to execute. What would make this already spectacular show wonderful would be to see this world freed from the Heartless and the woman I love curled up at my side watching it with me, enjoying it of her own accord.
~ ~ ~ ~
Mango Joe's Café is a small place, with several outside tables. I order a steak with French fries and coleslaw and sit down at an outdoor table. The three lads I'd seen earlier performing are now in regular clothes and head over to the table.
"Jules Verne." The first one says, he was the brown haired bloke I called Silver. Blue was the mustachioed bloke, and Red was the fat bloke, "Great author."
"This is true. Come, sit down if you'd like to talk..." I say.
"Hey guys, what do you want to order?" Silver says.
"I'll take a burger, fries and a coke." Blue says.
"I'll take a burger, with cheese, large fries, onion rings, cole slaw and a coke..." Red replies.
"Wayne Lefessier." Blue says.
"J.D. McNugent." Red replies, "The other guy's our best pal, Darren Silverman."
"Raymond Payton." I reply, naturally. I rehearsed in my room that whenever I give a name it will be Raymond Payton instead of my real one, Rusty Puckett.
"Well Ray," Wayne says, "We can't really talk much hear, but I can tell you Vic was on to something big when he disappeared. Meet us before closing time, at nine forty five."
"Wait, Wayne, didn't we agree on a quarter to ten." J.D. says.
Wayne slaps his forehead and says, "J.D. we agreed on a quarter to ten, aka nine forty five."
Meal finishes and with nothing else to do for the rest of the day I perform some reconnaissance around the area. I find good evasion routes; note the location of security offices and Heartless patrols. Because I know I'm gonna lift Vic Fontaine out of here ASAP, I will have to go through this area. I notice several tan uniformed men, carrying holstered pistols at their sides. They have the Sea World logo on their sleeves and blue ball caps that read Security on them.
~ ~ ~ ~
2145. As I walk out of the park I run into J.D., Wayne, and Darren. They silently motion me over and we all head for the Delphi Hotel, where I'm currently staying. As soon as we get inside the room I lock the door.
"What was Vic on to?" I ask.
"We don't know, exactly." Wayne replies, "But we know it's something big, Maleficent has something planned, something needing seaborne animals."
"Yeah, we've seen fish and sharks, and even dolphins get taken from the park for some odd reason." Wayne replies, "So what's your angle?"
"I'm here to rescue Vic Fontaine." I reply, "He's the top Allied informant here. How do you think Allied intelligence knows were the targets are without hitting your park or the tourist areas?"
"I could use some help," I continue, "I have to destroy Vic's encryption equipment and codebooks, otherwise our entire communication systems with Resistance forces on many other worlds could be compromised."
"We'll help you." Darren says, "But we'll need a favor from you in return. In the Assay Office is a cache of weapons the Allies sent to our Resistance forces here. Maleficent's forces intercepted the shipment, though, and our last couple attempts to get it back have resulted in two captured and three dead."
I realize I'm gonna have to make a deal here if I'm to carry out my operation, "Right. And if I do so, will you help me rescue Vic Fontaine?"
"We'll do it, pallie." Wayne replies.
"Right," I reply, "This is what we'll do..."
~ ~ ~ ~
Next: Our heroes break and enter and liberate the weapons cache...
TBC (I'll get to the action/adventure in the next chapter.)