Disclaimer
(Just so I won't get sued…)
All related characters and settings found below are strictly based on the TV series Hey Arnold! created by Craig Bartlett as seen on Nickelodeon.
7: Last Ditch
If they threaten to hurt the other hostages or myself, I'll just "remind" them that they can't hurt any one of us 'cause they have to return us unharmed if they want their ransom, Arnold noted mentally as he turned the doorknob and snuck inside.
Inside the warehouse was pitch dark except for a ceiling lamp in the middle of the whole floor. The light swung to and fro, casting light in random directions. Arnold ducked now and then to evade the shafts as he slipped further inside.
He saw his two assailants at the far end of the hall and pressed his back against the wall in hiding. He then eavesdropped on them.
"I phoned the Patakis. I didn't get the king on the line." Said Vic.
Arnold gasped faintly. Oh no! Did he…?
"But someone answered?"
"Yeah. This lady. The king's wife or somethin'. I told 'er about 'er son."
"And…?"
"She got mad and went mad! As if she had no son or somethin'."
Arnold gulped. Mrs. Pataki? Olga? Helga?
"Anyways, I told 'er about the empire. Left 'er thinking about it."
"Well done. We'll be suckin' up the Pataki fortune in no time."
Not if I have anything to say about it. Arnold gritted his teeth. I wish Grandma were here. She'd know what to do.
He peeked at his two kidnappers again. Morrie was seated on a holey, rickety office chair behind the messy, cracked desk. Vic was holding a cup with a little red ball tied to it, and unsuccessfully trying to catch the ball in the cup. It looked more like a child's toy. Maybe one of the other hostages owns it.
When Arnold scanned atop the desk for anything useful, he saw it: a set of keys on the right edge of the table, most likely the keys to the cells of the other captives. He had to get them!
He waited until the two men were preoccupied. When Morrie leafed through his papers, Arnold gathered his wits about him. Now's my chance!
Eight fourth graders gasped for air as they ran as fast as their legs would take them.
Helga chopped the air with her fist. "The old warehouse! What other part of town could those goons stash a dozen kids in? Criminey, I should have known!"
She darted glances everywhere in her troubled state. At the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of Ruth McDougal in a boutique by which she just passed. She turned her head and confirmed her sighting. "What's that sixth-grader Ruth doing shopping in an emergency situation?"
Phoebe carried a bulky copy of the city telephone directory in her arms as she raced alongside her best friend. "Perhaps she isn't aware of the widespread kidnapping incidents all over town."
"Man, is that slow or what!" Chided Helga. She looked forward and from the distance made out the old city warehouse and the phone booth. From beside it, Sid and Gerald waved their arms and hollered.
"Hey! Hey look! Sid and Gerald!" pointed Harold.
Helga grunted. "We can see 'em with our own eyes, pink boy!"
As soon as the ten students from Arnold's class gathered for the most recent goings-on, Gerald shrugged. "Nope, haven't heard a soul from in there."
Phoebe, still hugging the phonebook in her arms, said, "Nonetheless, we must have a look see. Arnold could be somewhere inside."
A chilling thought jolted through Eugene. "Gosh. If Arnold's inside, the kidnappers could be there too."
"Of course they'll be there! That's their headquarters!" Helga, who secretly feared the worst among them for her beloved Arnold, motioned towards the building. "Did ya think that's some day care center for the chosen children?"
Nadine reached into her pocket and brought a tarantula into the light. "I hope they're scared of spiders."
Sheena looked down. "I hope they don't try to fight us."
Sid stifled a nervous chuckle. "Actually… they won't."
Stinky nodded. "Yeah, on account of we'll be the ones to try to fight them!"
Curly slapped his own cheeks in dread. "Aaaah! We're gonna be goners!"
Harold threw his arms into the air and ran around in circles. "Aaaah! We're doomed! Mooom-myyy!"
"Show some backbone, ya bunch of babies!" Snorting to herself, Helga turned her heels and plodded towards the warehouse entrance by herself, her fists clenched and ready to rumble. "And to think you spineless scaredy cats got this far! If anything happens to me or to Football Head, live with it for the rest of your cowardly, pusillanimous lives!"
The nine fourth graders from P.S. 118 gawked at their toughest classmate, physically and emotionally stumped.
"'Pusillanimous'? What's that?" Stinky elbowed Gerald.
"I'll tell you later." Gerald said, looking wise. I'll have to ask Arnold what that "pusillanimous" is once "later" comes, he reminded himself.
Sid tore his gaze from the audacious Helga and turned to the others. "I don't know about you guys, but I wanna go. I wanna see Arnold again."
"Yeah, me too," sighed the rest together.
"If only there was some other way to do that," said Curly.
"I'm afraid there isn't," Phoebe shook her head. Suddenly she gripped the book of listings and stepped forward. "Classmates and friends! Are we going to let Helga—our own Helga Pataki—traverse that entire expanse of unimaginable peril without enduring it ourselves?"
Eight pairs of eyes widened, darted glances at each other, and trained on their resident whiz kid.
"Are we merely going to remain here, a sheer two yards away, while the imminent worst befalls upon the fate of two of our very classmates and friends? I say the weak of heart go on home and tremble beneath their sheets! I'm going!"
Eight pairs of eyes, still widened, blinked as they witnessed the typically coy, demure girl follow her fearless best friend's footsteps.
The fourth graders stayed speechless until Gerald subdued the awkwardness of the moment. "What're y'all waiting for? Let's go!"
The eight kids scampered to catch up with the two who had gotten their head start. Phoebe whirled and smiled at them. Helga, who was already just three giant steps away from the warehouse entrance, shot an annoyed glance at the mud under her shoes. Something that she had stepped on squeaked.
She lifted her foot and scraped the muddied object off the sole of her shoe. "What's this?"
She stripped the muck off the item, revealing a blue-cloth material.
"Arnold's hat!"
Arnold's admirer turned around and saw the rest of the Arnold rescue team on her tracks. She glanced at the door, reminding herself to be as discreet as she could, and raised the cap above her head for the others to see.
The Arnold gang gasped. "Hey! Arnold's hat!"
Helga shushed them softly as they approached her. "Pipe down, will ya? We're in kidnapper territory!"
"Oh yeah."
Helga stashed Arnold's cap inside her dress as she summoned a group huddle. "I never thought you lily-livers would actually come through with this. All right, now we all gotta be as bold and crazy as Football Head…"
The bold and crazy Arnold dashed across the room towards the right of the table. He hid from the eyes of the two men on the side of the desk close by the keys. Unfortunately for him, Morrie tossed his papers at that very side…
Arnold had already clasped the keys in his hand when the table he crouched beside was prodded away, exposing him from stooped head to toe. He gulped.
"So you were able to escape eh, you little sneak!"
Both men charged at Arnold, their hands ready to wring some neck. The boy pushed the office chair towards them. It rolled away carrying off Vic and, as he hollered, crashing him into the wall.
The unscratched Morrie seized him by the arm. He took hold of his captor's wrist and twisted it, causing the man to shout and release him. The nine-year-old black-belter whirled and kicked Morrie right in his crotch. And as Morrie jumped in pain, Arnold struck his ankles from the side and the leggy kidnapper toppled to the ground.
Now Vic had recovered and was fast approaching the boy from behind. Arnold detected his presence, and so he thrust his right elbow back. Vic clenched it in mid-attack and yanked Arnold's right arm, wrenching it behind the boy's back. Arnold winced as Vic shot a glance at his palm and did not find the keys.
"Hey! Where're the keys?"
Arnold clenched his left fist—the hand with the keys—as he pivoted to his right to face his brawny opponent and punched Vic's left cheek good.
"Looking for them?"
Vic slumped to the ground sideways with his eyes open wide. Arnold opened his left fist, revealing the keys.
"Here they are."
Since the boy was facing Vic, Morrie was stretched out on the floor behind him. It was he who grabbed Arnold's ankles and pulled them down and towards him.
"No!" Arnold yelled as his chin struck the ground and the keys flew off his clutches and into Vic's. Morrie rose to his feet, and Arnold thrust his legs to throw Morrie back. Morrie captured his legs before he could, though, and when he tussled to get up even while his lower body was being restricted, Morrie trampled on his mouth, pinning his head to the floor.
Arnold's kidnappers laughed menacingly as Vic tossed and caught the keys in his hand and Morrie jammed Arnold to the ground. Then Vic flung the keys to Morrie and hoisted Arnold off the floor by the boy's neck.
Arnold grabbed hold of the hand on his neck. "Wait! You can't hurt me! If you do, you can't ask for the ransom!"
Vic tightened his fist and took a punching stance as he lifted Arnold's feet half his own height above the ground with his other hand.
"We'll get your king dad's empire before we bring you back to him… DEAD! SAY YOUR PRAYERS, BLONDIE!"
End of 7: Last Ditch
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Helga exposes the truth about Arnold and herself (err… that wasn't supposed to sound that fluffy) in chapter 8: Helga's Maneuver.