Karnage's Revenge

by Ann29

As preparations are made for Higher for Hire's one year anniversary celebration, Don Karnage makes his own plans to plunder Cape Suzette and to get even with Baloo for messing up his best schemes.

2. On With the Show

Karnage's Revenge
Part 2

Thembria
Saturday Morning

The Sea Duck landed on a runway of hard-packed snow in the pale grey dawn. Its yellow and orange paint contrasted with the bleak white and grey that was Thembria, a country that was cold and overcast three hundred sixty-five days a year. And what the weather lacked, the oppressive communist government made up for. Thembria, with its heavy-handed military, its poverty, its constant shortages, its crazy laws, it was just a great place to live. Can you imagine the travel brochures for this country? Welcome to Thembria - the land of abundant snow; but if you play in it, you will be shot!

Before Baloo or Kit could step one toe out of the plane, they were surrounded by an entire division of the Glorious People's Army, all of whom aimed their guns at the two bears.

"What's goin' on?" Baloo cried. "Don't tell me I parked in the High Marshall's very private parkin' space again."

Kit checked the passport again to make sure that the right date was stamped on it. It was. He was as confused as Baloo as to why they were in trouble.

Through the ranks of soldiers pushed an extremely short blue-grey warthog. Trailing after him meekly was a tall, portly warthog. It was Colonel Ivanov 'I-Want-To-Be-A-General-When-I-Grow-Up' Spigot and his faithful, mild-mannered toady, Sergeant Dunder.

"Here comes General Nuisance," Baloo remarked to Kit. Actually, Baloo felt more relaxed at the appearance of his friend Dunder, and he knew that he could handle the farcical, melodramatic Spigot.

"Up, Dunder!" Spigot commanded.

Dunder lifted Spigot so that he could look into the Sea Duck's window.

With a pronounced lisp, Spigot said, "I'm Colonel Spigot. Perhaps you've heard of me?"

"Sure, Spiggy, I've heard of ya. What's up with the twenty-one gun salute?"

"We have orders from the High Marshall to search all of the vehicles coming in or going out of Thembria." He flicked his riding crop in Baloo's face. "Someone has been hijacking all of our Frigid-Air - the finest cold steam imported from the Geysers of Gesundheit located in Tundra City."

"I think someone's got steam comin' outta his ears," Baloo hissed in a rather loud aside to Kit, who stifled a wan snicker in the sleeve of his sweater.

As if it explained everything, Spigot mentioned, "Madam High Marshall loves to have a bowl of cold steam before retiring."

"It settles her stomach," Dunder added helpfully.

"Now that she can't have it, the entire country is in an uproar!" Spigot said with a dramatic flourish of his riding crop. "Down, Dunder!"

Both bears looked out the window at the capital city. None of the warthog peasants listlessly standing the numerous interminable lines for food or emerging from the rows of identical houses seemed in the least concerned about missing cold steam.

Spigot ordered, "Get out of the plane while we inspect your cargoes!"

"Why would anyone steal cold steam?" Baloo mused as he and Kit hopped out of the Sea Duck.

"It's a rare delicacy, because it's hard to come by," Spigot supplied; frantic irritation dripped from his voice. If he didn't find that cold steam, he himself would be in front of a firing squad, squashed by a bathtub, or worse, be fed to polar bears.

"It's just air. Don't get so steamed 'bout it, Spiggy."

"Just air? Just air?" Spigot bristled in umbrage, drawing himself up to his full height; even so, he was still shorter than Kit.

"Well...yeah. You've got lotsa cold air just hangin' 'round in the air here in Thembria. Can't ya just catch it," Baloo made a motion as if he were capturing fireflies, "an' bottle it up? No one'll know the difference."

Spigot fixed a cynical eye on Baloo. "I suppose next you'll be saying that the Patriotic Flying Flounder is just a fish. It's an insult to my glorious Mommyland! You'll get the firing squad for that! Guards! Take them away!"

While they were being hauled away, each between two strong guards, Baloo wheedled, "C'mon, Spiggy, we're only deliverin' turnip peelers. Why doncha let us drop 'em off - after we fill out all the correct forms, of course - an' let us scoot outta here?"

Squinting, Spigot peered suspiciously up at Baloo. "You need to be locked up anyway, Baloo. Perhaps you've broken a law, and we don't know about it. Better to be safe than sorry with dangerous criminals."

"Look! We don't have your steam." Baloo did the Bear Scout salute. "Scout's honor."

Despite Baloo's protests, the prison doors clanged behind them. Pilot and navigator were in a small cell, which was bare save for bunk beds in the corner of the room, a naked lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, and a Thembrian flag - a white semi-circle imposed on a black background - plastered across one wall.

"Aw, man!" Baloo tossed his cap to the floor in disgust and plopped down on the bottom, ancient-looking bunk. It nearly bowed down to the floor under his weight. "Becky's gonna kill me if we're late for her one o'clock pickup, an' this time it ain't my fault! But she won't care. She'll blast out my eardrums anyways. Cold steam? Who in their right mind eats cold steam? Where's the nutritional value in that?"

Kit, sitting down beside the big bear, handed Baloo his cap. "This is Thembria after all, Papa Bear. Since it doesn't make sense, it must be a sensible Thembrian law."

Baloo cleaned out his ear with a finger. "Huh? Now yer talkin' like them."

"Sorry. It must be something in the air."

Groaning, Baloo said, "Man, Kid, your jokes don't get better with age."

"What can I say, Papa Bear?" rejoined Kit with a big grin, lightly poking Baloo in the stomach with his elbow. "I learned from the best."

Meanwhile at Pirate Island

Don Karnage strutted into the Iron Vulture's cockpit where Gibber, Will, and Ratchet were already assembled. "Are we all here? Good. I will check, double check, triple-decker check to make sure that everything goes as smooth as a baby kitten's backside. The list, if I please, second mate Will."

Will, a stocky, sandy-colored canine, drew out a list from his brown jacket and handed it to Karnage.

"Secret weapon loaded?"

"Loaded and ready," answered Ratchet, the air pirates' mechanic.

"Good. Doohickey planted on Sea Duck? That sneaky crook of a croc better have, or I'll hunt him down and wring his scaly neck. Sea monster?"

Dumptruck and Mad Dog staggered into the cockpit; both were sopping wet and out of breath from their recent encounter with the sea monster.

"Der snakey is hooked up to the Iron Vulture and ready to roll, er...swim, Captain Karnage, sir," said Dumptruck.

"Stupid snake." Mad Dog wrung out his vest, leaving a puddle on the floor. "Why'd it have to thrash around so much? You'd think that it didn't like being chained up."

"Costume?"

Gibber whispered into Karnage's ear.

"Excellamundo! All that is lacking is the bait. My personal personage will personally see to that." He crammed the list into his pocket. His pleased smile turned into an impatient frown. "What are you all just standing here for? Get back to work!"

Thembria
Three Hours Later

By the time Spigot and Dunder returned, Kit was lounging on the top bunk while Baloo paced around the cramped cell, grumbling to himself under his breath. The big bear flew to the door and wrapped his fingers tightly around the bars. "Well? Well?" he asked in a tense, expectant manner.

Spigot, who had big-time short-man syndrome, said loftily, "I have good news and bad news, Baloo. The bad news is that we didn't find the Frigid-Air in your aircraft."

"I told ya that already," Baloo said tersely. "What's the good news, Colonel Nozzle?" He couldn't help razzing Spigot about his unusual, and entirely forgettable, name. Call it payback for being wrongfully imprisoned for three hours.

"It's Spigot! Colonel Spigot!" the short warthog screamed at the top of his lungs. It was the bane of his existence that no one, with the exception of Sergeant Dunder, remembered his name. "For the last time, it's Spigot! Unfortunately, the good news is that you're free to go. And it's so sad, because I had my heart set on a nice firing squad execution. 'This Was Your Life' is my favorite radio show. I love the groveling, the weeping, the gnashing of teeth, the really big boom at the end." Spigot giggled jubilantly. "It sends chills down my spine."

"Mine, too," Kit said, shivering from cold and from the idea of being before a firing squad consisting of full-sized panzers. He hopped down from the bunk.

Dunder unlocked the door, saying timidly, "No hard feelings, Baloo? We have to lock up everyone, even our friends."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Sergeant Dunder, we Thembrians have no friends!" Spigot lashed the sergeant across the knees with his riding crop. "We don't need friends! We are above friends!"

"Sorry, sir," Dunder apologized contritely. "It's my fault that the steam is missing, sir?"

"Yes! That's all your fault!"

"If you lock everyone up, it's no wonder ya go no friends," Baloo stated the obvious.

"Silence! Or I will throw you back in the clink for twenty years for insubordination to an officer of the People's Glorious Air Force!"

"All right, we're gettin', we're gettin', Colonel Faucet."

Kit and Baloo heard the short colonel's voice echoing shrilly, "It's Spigot!" through the hallways as they made their hasty retreat.

Meanwhile on the Iron Vulture
Don Karnage's Bedroom

Turning this way and that, Don Karnage admired himself in the full-length mirror. He sported a full-body sheep costume, minus the head, which looked fairly believable, though hokey. Over the costume was a brown three-piece suit.

"Ha! Ha! I am now the handsome wolf in sheep's clothes, yes-no? Every little teensy-tiny piece is coming into place just like the jiggity sawhorse puzzle. I only need one more thing to begin to set my genius plan into action."

Gibber, who was holding up a small hand mirror so that the captain could see his backside, muttered a hasty comment into Karnage's ear.

"Yes...I would like that, but none of the painter-type peoples can capture the gloriousness that is Don Karnage, scourge of the Seven Seas and beyond!" Karnage admired himself in the mirror once more. "I meant the last thing I need before we can take over Cape Suzette."

"What's that, Captain?" Mad Dog whined.

"Something to lure Bahloo into my trap."

"Cheese?" Dumptruck ventured.

"Not cheese, you eediot!" Karnage snatched Dumptruck's top hat from his head and smacked him across the face with it. "That's for mouses. I am after something much bigger, so I need the bigger bait. With this disguise, I will trickity-trick one of Bahloo's friends into coming with me back to the Iron Vulture. That will insurance that Bahloo will follow me like the Pied Pickle Piper-man into my brilliant trap."

"How are you going to do that, Captain?" Mad Dog whined. "Kit Cloudkicker is a smart boy."

"I am not going after that smart-alecky juvenile delinquitiwink," Karnage growled, placing the sheep's head over his own - putting it on slightly sideways. He tugged at it until he could see out of the small eye-hole slits. His voice was muffled, hollow as he said, "That boy of Bahloo's is slickier than a slime-smeared sardine."

"Vell, den who are you going after?" Dumptruck inquired as Karnage climbed into the air pirate's small submarine.

"Someone unsuspecting. Someone helpless. Someone like..."

Higher for Hire

Rebecca rose from her chair when she saw a well-dressed sheep carrying a briefcase enter the office. "Good afternoon," she greeted brightly. She rushed to escort the sheep in. She wasn't about to let him change his mind about using her cargo service. "Welcome to Higher for Hire, sir. Please sit down." She gestured to a crate in front of her desk. Taking her own seat opposite the sheep, she had her pen poised to jot down his request. "I'm the owner of Higher for Hire, Rebecca Cunningham. Maybe you would like to know that for Higher for Hire's one year anniversary, we are having a special: the first delivery for new customers is half price. Now, how may I help you?"

Don Karnage, sweating profusely inside the itchy costume, was growing increasingly irate. He would like nothing more than to bump Rebecca and her annoyingly cheerful smile off here and now rather than going through all of the hassle of kidnaping her. But if he didn't kidnap her, Baloo would not fall into his wonderful trap, and then how would he get his revenge? Instead, Karnage answered with feigned politeness, "You can help me by being the bait."

"I beg your pardon?" Bewilderment was on Rebecca's face as she stared at the sheep. Something wasn't quite right about this man, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Something about the way he moved his mouth was a little off, and he sounded like he talking from the bottom of a well. She dismissed it from her mind. Perhaps he had a cold. After all, a client was a client, something that Higher for Hire could never get enough of. Cautiously, she inquired, "Did you say bait? As in fishing bait? Worms perhaps...?"

Karnage cleared his throat. He forced himself to smile, a rather odd smile. "Uh...yes! Bait. Worms. Exactitutely. You hit the nail on the tippy-top of the head. I have these worms...like the ones in my briefcase." He plunked the briefcase on the desk. "Would you care to see? Si?"

Rebecca cringed imperceptibly. She detested anything creepy or crawly, but she couldn't afford to offend a potential client. "Well...I don't really think it's necessary..."

"Oh, but it is absotutely necessary." Ignoring her protests, he clicked open the briefcase. A cloud of noxious sleeping gas hit Rebecca full in the face. With a groan, she passed out on the floor.

"Hee-hee!" the pirate laughed triumphantly. "Nighty-night. Sleep tight. You'll be dead before the dawn's first light." He slid a burlap sack over Rebecca's limp form. He then speared a ransom note to her desk using a very sharp, very deadly knife with a skull-and-crossbones symbol on the handle.

Panting inside his stuffy costume, Karnage carried his sack like Santa Claus carrying his sack of toys. A copper-colored submarine waited at the end of the dock. He shoved the brown bag into the submarine before sliding in after it.

Higher for Hire
One Hour Later

"Man, I wish I never had to go to Thembria again," Baloo complained, stepping from the Sea Duck. "Crazy country with crazy laws an' even crazier colonels."

"We've been in Thembrian jails so many times, they should permanently reserve us a place," Kit joked weakly.

"Don't give 'em any ideas, Kit." Baloo burst into the empty office, blurting out, "I know we're late, Becky, but I can explain everythin'. It honestly wasn't my fault this time. Ya gotta believe me! Them Thembrian kooks..." Discovering that no one was listening, he trailed off. "Becky? Beckers?" Frantically, he peeked behind the door, checked in the warehouse, and then hollered upstairs, "Where are ya, Rebecca?"

Kit wasn't quite as upset. "Maybe she had an errand to do in town, Papa Bear. I bet Wildcat knows where she went." However, when Kit spied the deadly knife protruding from the desk, his stomach plummeted to his ankles. He recognized the skull-and-crossbones emblem on the handle. It could only mean one thing - air pirates. It was creepy that this was happening all over again, just like last year. Next to the note there was a picture of Baloo with the big 'X' slashed across the big bear's face. It filled Kit with trepidation. "Baloo! Look!"

Rushing down the stairs, Baloo snatched the note from under the knife. "Man, talk about yer déjà vu!" Aloud, he read:

Dear Baloo-type person,

I have in my possession someone very special to you and very annoying to me by the name of Rebecca. If you want her, come and get her.

Sincerely,
That panic provoking pirate,
the one-and-only me,
the fantabulous,
Don Karnage

P.S. Nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah-nyah!

Baloo reread the note again, a dark scowl creeping across his face, before crumpling it and pitching it in the trash. "Dang that Karnage! This is the absolute last time he kidnaps my Becky!" Stomping towards the Sea Duck resolutely, he said, "C'mon, L'il Britches, we're gonna teach that pirate a lesson that he an' his big ego will never forget."

Cape Suzette Cliffs

Three-fourths of the way up the rocky crag, cliff guards Sam and Ralph, a stocky beige sheepdog and a skinny brown coyote respectively, sat at opposite ends of a checkerboard. Nearby was one of the large cannons used to defend the city, affectionately known as Big Bertha. Before them, as far as the eye could see, stretched a panorama of a peaceful blue sky streaked with wispy cirrus clouds hanging over calm blue ocean; it was difficult to tell where water ended and where sky began. The sort of sleepy, lazy day perfect for indulging in a game of checkers.

"Your move, Sam."

Sam jumped two of the red pieces while Ralph looked on, befuddled. "Your turn, Ralph."

As Ralph pondered his next move, Sam watched the planes coming and going through the cliff opening. Below them streaked a yellow blur of a seaplane.

"There goes Baloo again."

"Mmm-hmm," Ralph mumbled, tongue protruding from his mouth, his full concentration on the checkerboard.

"Wonder why he's in such a hurry. Must be a rush delivery."

Ralph peeked over at Sam. The canine's attention was focused on the seaplane fading into the horizon. With a sly glint in his beady eyes, Ralph surreptitiously switched one of Sam's red pieces with his own black piece. However, his smile fell from his face when Sam captured the remainder of his men.

"Play it again, Sam?" Ralph said, crestfallen, but determined to win at least one game. "Best five out of six?"

Sam shrugged. What else had he to do? (Work? What's that?) "Sure." He quickly set up the board. "You go first, Ralph."

From out of nowhere, a thick bank of fog rolled over them unexpectedly. "I would if I could see the board," came Ralph's disembodied voice.

"I thought Broadcast Sally predicted clear skies today," Sam commented.

"Can't trust those radio people," Ralph replied, sneakily removing a few of Sam's checkers.

A large, hazy silhouette appeared over the side of the cliff.

"What the...?" gasped Ralph in disbelief.

When the sea monster chomped Big Bertha in her gigantic jaws, ripped it entirely from the cliff, and spit it into the ocean, the cliff guards shrieked in terror, "Aah!" cowering behind the checkerboard.

Back to the Sea Duck

With throttles wide open the Sea Duck sped towards Pirate Island as fast as its Superflight 100 engines would go. From out of nowhere a thick fog suddenly enshrouded them in its unseeing gloom. Kit rolled down his window and stuck his head out, scanning the horizon with his keen eyes. As navigator, it was his job to warn Baloo of any obstacles in their path.

"Aw, great. Fog. What else can go wrong?"

Baloo should know better than to say that. Have you ever noticed that that phrase always gets him into trouble? In keeping with that, here came a fleet of tri-wing CT-37s.

"Pirates!" Kit proclaimed, hearing the airplanes before seeing them. Being a former pirate himself, he knew the hum of those CT-37 engines well.

"I'll try ta lose 'em." Baloo yanked back on the control yoke, but to no avail. Nothing happened. The seaplane continued on its forward journey. "Huh?" He turned the steering wheel right, left. Nothing. Back, forward. Nothing. He stomped down on the foot pedals. Nothing. No matter what Baloo did, the plane would not change course. "This is the first time the Duck's ever had a mind of her own."

"What does that mean?" Kit asked.

"I can't control 'er, L'il Britches!" Baloo frantically flipped switches in desperation, sweat beading on his brow.

"Look, Baloo. The Iron Vulture!" Kit announced. Through the mist, the pirates' hulking mother-ship was coming right at them. The Sea Duck was making a beeline for it as if it was attracted to it by magnets. "We've gotta bail out before Karnage captures us." Kit eyed the CT-37 directly beneath them acting as an escort. "We can escape in one of those CT-37s."

Baloo hesitated. His plane was extremely important to him. "But my baby..."

"We'll get it back," Kit reasoned, "but if Karnage catches us who will save Miz Cunningham?"

"Okay, Partner." Baloo flung open the port cockpit door. Wind whistling past his ears, he gauged the distance to the pirate aircraft. It wasn't far, a few hundred yards, but if they were a little off they might as well say bye-bye to breathing. "Pull chocks?"

"Pull chocks," Kit said with a determined thumbs-up.

Together, they leapt into the pirate plane. Baloo picked up startled Hal - a rotund orange feline pirate - by the scruff of his neck and tossed him overboard with a cheery, "Thanks for the loaner, pal."

Hal's parachute deployed. He drifted, and then disappeared, into the fog.

The CT-37 with Baloo and Kit followed the rest of the pirate airplanes to the Iron Vulture's landing strip located on top of the huge mother-ship. They watched in stunned silence as the Sea Duck, operated by remote control, also landed on top of the Iron Vulture.

"Look, Baloo. Karnage has a joystick. I bet that's how he's controlling the Sea Duck."

Baloo's face screwed up into a black scowl. "That dirty skunk! He's got some kinda remote control device planted on my baby." He pushed up his sleeves, ready to pummel Karnage into the ground.

"No, this way!" Kit hissed, tugging on Baloo's shirt. While Don Karnage and his gang were inspecting the Sea Duck, they slipped from the CT-37 and snuck into the Iron Vulture through a trapdoor in the floor.

Don Karnage, twirling the joystick in his hands, swaggered up to the Sea Duck and knocked on the cockpit door. Confident of his capture, he sang out, "All right, Bahloo. I have got you now. Come out with the two hands up." In an aside to his cronies, he said, "Hee-hee. It is just like the cops-and-robbers radio show, yes-no?"

No answer from the seaplane.

"Do not play sneak-and-hide with me! I know you are in there, Bahloo!" Karnage flung open the door, drew his sword from his scabbard, and looked in. Empty. He climbed inside and searched that plane from the rudder to the fuzzy dice. It was absolutely devoid of any living soul.

"I am not believing what my eyes do not see!" Karnage ranted, seething with outraged fury. He didn't like being outsmarted. After hopping from the plane, he kicked the nearest air pirate. "Where is that fat pilot?"

The fat pilot was at that moment crawling through the air ducts of the Iron Vulture behind Kit. "Oof! Shouldn't have had that fourth slice of pizza for lunch."

"Shh!" Kit warned, finger to his lips. "I thought I heard something."

"Yeah, Kid, the sound of me bein' stuck." Baloo tugged on the hem of his shirt, which was caught on a rivet.

Kit gazed down through a vent into a room where a smallish bird with googly eyes in a vest and bow tie was pacing and mumbling fretfully to himself. "Buzz!" Kit whispered.

"Buzz?" Baloo squeezed his ample backside past a protruding beam with difficulty. "Buzz is here? I shoulda known Karny kidnaped Buzz, too."

Meanwhile...
Down the Hall in the Iron Vulture's Brig

Rebecca awoke. She wished that she hadn't; her head was throbbing. She blinked a few times to accustom herself to her surroundings. Bare metal walls, a heavy, metal door crisscrossed with bars, and a low, far-away sound like steadily beating wings. With a groan, she realized that she was on the Iron Vulture. Now she knew what was wrong with that sheep. The mouth wasn't synchronized with the voice, because it was a costume. She had fallen for the 'bait' trick hook, line, and sinker.

An orangish, brawny canine (Hacksaw) with the brains of a walnut paced outside her cell, muttering, "One, two, five, one, two, five..." Seeing Rebecca dizzily sit up on the edge of her dingy cot, he shouted at the top of his voice, a voice unexpectedly high-pitched, "Captain! Captain, the prisoner's awake!"

Don Karnage leered through the bars into the dim cell. "Ah, my bait has awoke-ed. Get enough beauty sleep, my dear? Good. I want you to look your best to catch the big prize fish."

Rebecca shuffled to the door. "What big prize fish? What am I doing here? What's going on here, Karnage?"

"Enough with the interrogative-point questions!" Karnage snapped impatiently. He seized Rebecca's chin in his hand, running one finger down her cheek none too gently.

Shuddering with revulsion, she shoved his paws away with a disdainful, "Don't touch me, you...you pirate!"

"Ooo! Feisty." The pirate captain's haughty smirk transformed into a haughtier sneer. "I hate that! Start counting down the last tick-tocks of the clock, because you don't have many left, Ree-beck-ka." With a triumphant, evil laugh, he spun on his heel, commanding, "Keep watch over her, Hacksaw. I must be off," he declared with a flourish of his hand, "to make my glorious presence known to Cape Suzette so that they can give me oodles of presents. I make a joke. Hee-hee!"

Hacksaw laughed stupidly even though his dim-witted wits didn't comprehend the joke. He knew enough that when the captain laughed, everyone laughed. It was the smart thing to do if you wanted to stay alive.

Rebecca scowled at Karnage defiantly until he was out of sight. After he rounded the corner, her courage faltered, leaving a very scared bearess. She wondered who she was to be the bait for, and what was going to become of her after she had served her purpose. Knowing Karnage, she surmised that it couldn't be anything good. She huddled up on the bed, her knees drawn up to her chest. Tears pricked her eyes, but she hastily blinked them away. She resolved to be brave, because she had to figure out a way to escape; but, try as she might, not one plausible idea came to mind. "Oh, Baloo, where are you when I need you?" she whispered to herself.

The Iron Vulture's Cockpit

"At last, my men, it is the moment you have been waiting for all your pathetic, insignificant lives." Karnage picked up the microphone and strode to the big window so that he could see the city that he had captured. Of course, he couldn't due to the thick fog. "Attention, denizens of Cape Suzette! I am back, that fantabulous, plundering wonder, Don Karnage." He listened for a second. "I do not hear a round of applause. Are you not happy, people of Cape Suzette, of my coming? But perhaps you cannot be happy because you cannot see my glorious self. But, I can assure you, we are here!"

Over the intercom, he said, "Get your goody sacks ready, men, for tonight we begin seven days and seven nights of plunder! Ear protection on!"

All of the pirates donned a pair of earmuffs in the color of their choice.

Gibber lifted one of Karnage's earmuffs to whisper into his ear.

"Of course, I remember!" Karnage snapped, even though he had completely forgotten their previous mistake. "We don't want to repeat the Aridia fiasco. Set engines to full power!"

Karnage walked two rooms down the hall to where a curious little object stood. Canister upon canister of Frigid-Air lined the walls. Rubbing his hands together in anticipation, he turned a knob. Then, he turned another knob up to 'high speed'. "Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!" Karnage sang with a triumphant chuckle.

Karnage's smile grew in proportion to the horrific noise that the machine made, and then...

It stopped.

"Ah!" Karnage cried, becoming panicked. "No!" He took the machine between his two hands and gave it a fierce shake. In halted tones, he hissed between clenched teeth, "Work! Work! I...am...so...close...and...a...piece... of...metal...is...
not...going...to...mess...my...glorious...plans...up! Not...now! Not...ever!"

A clunk and a cough and the machine hummed to life with a deafening, persistent squeal. Karnage's sinister smile returned to his face.

One turn of a knob and a blizzard accompanied by violent winds ripped across Cape Suzette. The tropical city that had rarely seen snow was now seeing it with a vengeance. Cape Suzette was in the grip of a blinding, raging snowstorm, the first ever in its history. In a matter of a few minutes, the metropolis was blanketed with heavy, wet snow, the type of snow that's hard to shovel because it's so dense. Tree limbs cracked under the weight as did roofs. Cars slid off the road, crashing into each other, into the river, and into buildings. The snow weighted down power lines, causing much of Cape Suzette to be without power.

The only ones who were thrilled about the blizzard were the ones who started it - the air pirates. In fact, they weren't even affected by the snow. Where they were, hovering over the city, the sun was shining and it was fairly warm. How was this possible? Well, the weather machine (which what the machine was) had a little pipe running out of it. This pipe increased in diameter as it went from the machine, out the window of the Iron Vulture, down nearly an eighth of a mile towards the city. At the bottom, the pipe was big enough for a good-sized man to pass through. The pirates had to reverse the props and set the engines to full throttle so that the downward thrust of the wind wouldn't propel the Iron Vulture upward. There was a lot of pressure as well as snow and wind coming out of that little pipe.

Earmuffs over their ears, Gibber and Ratchet could still hear the high-pitched, nerve-racking, teeth-grinding squeal that emanated from the weather machine even though it was down the hall with several walls between it and them. Gibber muttered something into Karnage's ear after the pirate captain sauntered confidently into the cockpit.

"No, it's not too loud. It is music to mine eardrums." Over the microphone, Karnage said in a voice as harsh and cold as the wind, "Are you liking the weather, Cape Suzette? Hee-hee! If you want the snow to freeze up, here's what you must do: give up the keys to the city and give us all of your valuables, money, and precious knickity-knacks. I will give you precisely ten minuets to make up your frost-bit, little minds."

Khan Towers

Shere Khan watched the entire scene unfold from his penthouse office. During the brief moment before the blizzard began, the fog cleared, revealing the Iron Vulture as well as a startling sight - a sea monster tearing the guns from the cliffs. Amazement registered on Khan's normally impassive countenance. The sea monster was unexpected. But then his faced darkened when the blizzard began. His sharp claws shot out from his paws.

"Blast that pesky pirate Don Karnage. He has my weather machine, and I bet half of my fortune that he has my inventor." Khan pressed the intercom button. "Mrs. Snarly, get me the mayor and the airfield."

"Yes, Mr. Khan," answered Mrs. Snarly's no-nonsense voice.

"This is the last time Don Karnage will try to invade my city. He will learn once and for all that he cannot mess with Shere Khan and get away with it." He savagely slashed at his desk with his claws.

City Hall

The mayor huddled under his desk in his office. The dark brown walrus was dressed in a plaid golfing outfit and clutched a golf club in his hand. When the telephone rang, he jumped, banging his head on the desk. He pulled the telephone to the floor, answering it tentatively. He thought it was Don Karnage calling to give him his demands. "H...hello?"

"Hello, Mayor Tuskany. This is Shere Khan. Are you enjoying the weather?" There was a tinge of levity in the businessman's voice. That was as close as he came to making a joke.

"Not particularly, Mr. Khan, sir. I was planning on a sunny day for, um..." he tossed the golf club aside guiltily, "an important business matter. K-CAPE predicted clear skies. Broadcast Sally is hardly ever wrong, except for that time when..."

"Yes, yes," interrupted Khan, exasperated by the mayor's rambling. "Are you going to hand over the city keys to Don Karnage?"

"What else can I do?"

"Refuse," Khan said flatly.

"What!" Mayor Tuskany sprang up and bumped his head against the desk again. Rubbing his sore head, he asked, "Refuse those pirates? Are you crazy?"

Shere Khan stated icily, "I am many things, but I am never crazy, Mr. Mayor. I suggest you stall for time." He hung up the phone.

Under his desk, the mayor muttered to himself, "Stall...stall...yes, I'll stall for time. Easy for a billionaire like Shere Khan to say. This job is becoming too dangerous. Everyone want so invade this city. First air pirates, then those Panda-La-zians, now these air pirates again Elections coming up this year. Maybe I shouldn't run."

Shere Khan's Office

"But, sir, we can't fly in these conditions, sir. It's a blizzard out there, sir," the

commander of Shere Khan's air force stammered over the phone line.

"I'm well aware of the blizzard, Captain," Shere Khan said tersely, staring out his window at the white-out conditions. "The air pirates, whom I want you to shoot down, are causing the blizzard. Get rid of them, and the blizzard will disappear."

"But, sir, I'm afraid that's impossible. We can't take off, sir. Ice is building up on the wings and propellers."

Shere Khan slammed down the receiver. "And they call themselves pilots? This job requires a real pilot." He pressed his intercom button. "Mrs. Snarly, get me Baloo."

Higher for Hire

"Oh, no!" gasped an over-dramatic woman's voice over the radio. "It's...it's...it's inhuman! It's ghastly!"

Her eyes widening, Molly grasped her spatula - her DangerWoman 'Justice Wand' - more tightly in both hands. She was ready to face any challenge. "What? What is it?"

Wildcat and Molly were curled up on the floor in front of the radio. They were listening to Molly's favorite radio program - Danger Woman. They were so engrossed that they didn't notice what was going on outside, the only two in Cape Suzette who were unaware of the inclement weather.

In answer to Molly's question, the woman said, "It's a gigantic slug!"

"And it's coming this way!" shouted a man. "Can no one stop it from devouring Metro City?"

"Look! Up in the sky! It's DangerWoman!" said the woman.

"We're saved!" cried the man in relief.

"Go get it, Danger Woman!" Molly exclaimed, brandishing her spatula. When the telephone rang, she hopped into her mother's chair energetically, sending her red blanket 'cape' billowing out behind her. In her prim and proper telephone voice, she said, "Hello? This is Higher for Hire...No, Baloo's not here right now. Can I take a message?...No? Thank you for calling." She recalled her mother's phrase that she tacked on to the end of every business phone call. "And remember that near or far, by plane or car, Higher for Hire can meet your every cargo delivery need. Goodbye."

"Who was that, Mollycat?" asked Wildcat.

"Dunno. Some lady called Mrs. Snarly asking for Baloo." She settled once again beside the lion mechanic on the floor and tipped her colander hat over one ear. "Did Danger Woman fight the slug?"

"Nope, not yet."

"Oh, goody."

The radio announcer said, "And now a word from our sponsor. Kids, what's the coolest treat in the world? The only treat that Danger Woman eats? Frosty Pep! Kids, tell your parents that you want the only official Danger Woman food - Frosty Pep. Right now! Bug them until they buy Frosty Pep for you. Frosty Pep - the ice cream that gives you lots of pep so you can be as strong as Danger Woman. And now, back to our program."

"Oh, no!" screamed the near hysterical woman. In the background, there was a squishing sound. "The slug is crawling up the side of the Metro City Bank, and is covering everything with a horrible slimy ooze! We'll all be slimed alive! Ah-ha-ha-ha!" the woman screamed hysterically. Then, there was a thump as the woman fainted.

"Never fear! Danger Woman is here!" proclaimed a commanding, strong, yet decidedly feminine voice.

"Yay!" Molly and Wildcat cheered.

Over the radio were 'pows' and 'bams', denoting that the heroine was slugging it out with the slug. "I'll drive it out of Metro City using my Justice Wand."

Outside, there was an extra loud bump that shook the building on its foundation.

"Wow-how-how!" Wildcat said, impressed. "Those are good special effects."

"That wasn't from the radio, Wildcat." Molly flew to the window and scrambled on top of a crate to see out. "It's all snowy and blowy out there."

"Neat-o!" Wildcat joined her in gazing out the window. "We can make snow angels and snow forts and apple pies."

"I see something moving." Molly squinted through the blizzard. Across the harbor, there was a large, shapeless blob. "It looks like a giant slug, just like in Danger Woman."

Just then, the radio became all static-y.

"Aw," Molly groaned, "now we'll never know if Danger Woman beat the slug."

"The aerial must be out. I'll fix it." Without further ado, Wildcat stepped into the blinding snowstorm and was blown away across the harbor and out of sight.

"Wildcat!" Molly's scream was lost in the roaring wind. With difficulty, she managed to close the door. "Think. Think. What would Danger Woman do?" Now that she was alone - all alone - with a storm raging about Higher for Hire, Molly was frightened. The wind wuthered about the building, branches slapped against the siding, and waves smashed against the docks dangerously close to Higher for Hire.

"It's just snow," she said confidently. "Danger Woman's not scared of snow."

Unexpectedly, a rowboat came crashing through the window by the upstairs landing. Fragments of glass spewed down into the office.

Snatching up Lucy, Molly crouched underneath her mother's desk. "But Danger Woman would be scared of that!" She whispered in the doll's hair, "Don't worry, Lucy. Mommy and Baloo and Kit and Wildcat will be back soon." To comfort herself, she softly sang the lullaby that her mother sang to her in a little broken voice. "Home is where the heart is..."

Across the harbor, Wildcat flew. "First time I've flown without an airplane," he thought to himself. Unexpectedly, he landed on something. Something solid. Something that moved. Clinging to that smooth something, he looked up. Just above him, two large, yellow eyes were looking down at him. "Wow-wee! A dinosaur!"

The sea monster tore at another cliff cannon regardless of the new animal clutching her neck, the snow pummeling her body, the angry waves crashing against her.

"Jelly beans taste better than metal, and they're easier on your teeth. Believe me, I know." Wildcat dug into his pocket and produced a handful of jelly beans. He put one in his mouth and offered the rest to the sea monster with a good-natured smile. "Want some?"

The sea monster sniffed at the jelly beans, then slurped them from Wildcat's palm with her large pink tongue. She made a happy 'eeeeerrr!' noise and nudged the mechanic's pocket for more candy.

After feeding his new friend more jelly beans, Wildcat asked, "Why are you throwing the cliff cannons down into the ocean? They're good. They protect Cape Suzette."

The sea monster made a 'I dunno' noise and gestured with her head to the Iron Vulture hovering above the city. She bit at the chain that led from the manacle around her neck to the large pirate mother ship.

"Oh, that's why you're sad," Wildcat mused with an understanding nod. "I bet that ring is too tight. I can get that off in two jiffies." From his bottomless pocket, Wildcat produced a hacksaw. He sawed at the chain until it was severed.

The sea monster was free and, therefore, ecstatically happy. After circling once, she licked Wildcat's cheek, causing him to laugh with childlike glee, "You're welcome!" She licked him again, coating him in saliva. "Hey, that tickles!" Grinning, Wildcat wiped saliva from his face with his paw. "Know what? I'm gonna call you Teela, 'cause Teela rhymes with hacksaw."

Back to the Iron Vulture

Prying the grate off, Kit dropped into the room, landing easily on his feet. Baloo also squished his bulk through the opening only to land on Buzz.

"Baloo?" came Buzz's muffled voice. "Is that you?"

Baloo scrambled to his feet before assisting Buzz to his. "Yeah, Buzz. Bet ya didn't expect an air raid."

"Speaking of air, I just thought of a teensy flaw in my weather machine."

"Weather machine?" Kit said, startled. He and Baloo, being inside the Iron Vulture's air ducts, weren't aware of the blizzard.

"Yes, the Portable Wind Velocitizer and Precipitation Producer or Charley for short."

"Charley?" Baloo echoed, sharing a perplexed look with Kit.

"Have you ever tried to say Portable Wind Velocitizer and Precipitation Producer five times fast?" Buzz explained in his abstract way. "It makes my tongue tired. Charley is easier. Charley, Charley, Charley, Charley, Charley. See how easy it is?"

"What's the flaw, Buzz?" Kit asked patiently.

"I forgot to install a shutoff switch."

"Pretty big teensy flaw!" Baloo cried.

"Yes, isn't it? The only way to shut it off is to tighten the valve on the canister of cold steam."

Kit exclaimed, "Did you say cold steam?"

"So that's what happened to Spiggy's Frigid-Air," Baloo said, stroking his chin.

Buzz continued, "Yes, it's fueled by cold steam. But I never showed any of the pirates how to turn it off. They were only interested in how to turn it on."

"Figures," Baloo scoffed.

"We just wait 'til it runs out of steam, right?" Kit guessed.

"Wrong, Kit. That's the tricky thing. If it runs completely out of steam, the entire machine will either blow up, or the weather will become completely unpredictable." Buzz tugged at his bow tie meditatively. "I'm not sure about that part."

"Ya mean we could be blown sky high?"

"Yes, or we could experience snow one minute and a hurricane the next," Buzz said, agitated. "What should we do?"

"Number one, get out of here," Kit said, "so we can turn off that weather machine."

"An' 'B', we gotta find Becky." Baloo slapped himself on the forehead. "Aw, but how can we be in two places at once?"

"We can if we split up," Kit suggested.

Baloo looked a tad wary about that idea. "Kid, I think we should stick together."

"But what if something happens to Miz Cunningham when we're tackling Charley? Baloo, I used to be a pirate, remember?"

Buzz's jaw, er...beak dropped at that information. Only Baloo, Rebecca, Molly, and the air pirates had known that.

"I can take care of myself," the boy averred confidently, crossing his arms defiantly across his chest.

Baloo rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, ya can, Kid, but..."

"Look, Papa Bear, the longer we argue, the more danger Rebecca is in, not to mention everybody in Cape Suzette."

Baloo sighed in resignation. "'Kay, have it your way, L'il Britches. You an' Buzz take care of Charley, an' I'll track down Becky. But we can't do anythin' from inside this cell." He rattled the bars of the cell door. They were solid and the bars were too narrow for even Kit to pass through.

"The vent?" Kit suggested.

The vent that they had descended from was fifteen feet off the floor. Even if they stood on each other's shoulders, something that they tried, they weren't able to reach it. After falling in a discouraged heap, Buzz cried, "Ouch! This thing is poking me." He drew out a small, odd-shaped object.

"What's that?" Kit asked.

"My pocket-sized apple picker. It's great for gardeners with limited storage space," Buzz proclaimed proudly. With a push of a button, a white-gloved hand stretched out from a metal rod riddled with many joints.

"Buzz, that's perfect!" Baloo exclaimed.

"Not exactly," Buzz said, examining his invention with a critical eye. "I can't figure out where to install the apple corer."

"Naw, I mean perfect to escape." Baloo took the apple picker from Buzz and threaded the hand/rod out between the bars of the cell. He carefully snagged the keys that were hanging on a nail across the hallway. Kit then stuck his slender arm through the bars and unlocked the door, using the keys.

"Handy little device," Baloo chuckled, pushing the button for the rod to retract into the box. He tossed it up in the air once before returning it to the inventor.

Kit poked his head into the hallway cautiously. There was no one in sight. He gestured for them to follow him. "All clear. Let's go."

"Wait a sec, Kit." Baloo knelt and placed his paws on Kit's shoulders. "Remember that I need my navigator in one piece. Don't go takin' chances that don't need ta be took."

Kit nodded solemnly.

"And promise if somethin' happens ta Becky an' me, you get to the Duck an' get Buzz out. No need for all of us bitin' the dust."

"I promise." Kit knew that the situation must be extremely serious if Baloo wanted him to fly the Sea Duck, his baby. Eyes shining, Kit threw his arms around his Papa Bear's neck; Baloo held the boy tightly for a few moments. "Good luck, Papa Bear," Kit murmured, giving Baloo one last affectionate squeeze. With that, Kit and Buzz sped off down a corridor.

Baloo headed in the opposite direction. He wished that Kit had stuck with him. Because Kit had lived with the air pirates for a year before hooking up with Baloo, the boy knew the Iron Vulture like the back of his hand, knew all the good hiding places, was familiar with the labyrinths of air ducts. It was helpful knowledge in situations like this. Hearing footsteps approaching, Baloo screeched to a halt and shrunk against the wall, hiding as well as he could behind a pile of crates in the all-concealing shadows. Two figures went right past him: Rebecca hurried ahead of Don Karnage, held at sword-point.

"March faster, Ree-beck-ka. If my big-type fish won't come out of hiding by himself, we will have to lure him out."

"Where do ya s'pose he's takin' her?" Baloo wondered softly to himself. He followed at a discreet distance, keeping close to the walls.

Don Karnage was jittery (high-strung, that is), nervously flitting his eyes in all directions as he drove his captive into the cargo hold. "Cease!" he barked when they were in the middle of the vast, cavernous hangar. From behind, Karnage roughly grabbed Rebecca around the waist and held his saber to her throat, whispering hoarsely in her ear, "Bahloo will not be able to sneakity-sneak up on us here. No place to hide. If he wants you, my dear, he will have to come out into the open."

"Baloo's the big fish?" Rebecca whispered incredulously.

"Of course. Who else is bigger than that fat bear?" Karnage replied. "And when he comes to get you, I'll keell him." His shout, "Bahloo!" reverberated through the cavernous hangar, causing Rebecca to wince in pain and Baloo to jump. "I know you're here somewhere, probably closer than I suspect, maybe. I have your plane, and as you can see, I also have a friend of yours, too. She would very much like to see you."

Don Karnage's eyes panned furtively around the hangar. There was no sign of Baloo, but some uncanny sixth sense told him that the pilot was somewhere nearby.

And he was. Baloo, hiding in a doorway on the far side of the hangar, weighed his options. If he openly confronted Karnage, the pirate had the upper hand. He had a weapon whereas Baloo had none. Also, Baloo knew that he couldn't cross the cargo hold fast enough to prevent Karnage from killing Rebecca. Clearly, what he needed was to take Karnage by surprise. Baloo studied the cargo hold. High, high, high above his head was a beam that spanned the width of the hangar. It appeared to be his only choice. Snatching up three coils of rope, the big bear started up the stairway at a dead run.

End of part 2