Roots of Revenge

-Chapter 3-

Dramatic Exit

J. Gander had his eyes locked on him; Dark knew he had to time this just right.

"I'm going to give you an other option,…" his glasses flashed in the dim lighting of the warehouse. "If you feel so passionately about justice loose the façade and join us."

"No! Hooter I vill not allow dis!" Grizlikof finally had managed to put away his gun.

"Agent Grizlikof, last time I checked you took orders from me."

The bear stood crest fallen and trying in vain to hide his outrage. Darkwing couldn't help but smile.

"Join S.H.U.S.H.? I'll admit I do look good in a suit but I don't work well with others. I'm sure you understand… plus there's nothing dramatic about paperwork." He wrapped his finger around the gas bomb's pin. Wait for it… Hooter shook his head.

"That is too bad Darkwing, you really were very impressive. You would have made an excellent agent. Now you leave us no choice but to exterminate you."

"Now who's confident?"

Darkwing saw Hooter smile and pulled the pin. The explosion of purple smoke surprised them as he had hoped. Instantaneously he dropped to his knees and quickly located the weak board below him and punched it with his spiked glove. The floor gave way. He stumbled to his feet in the basement as the smoke from above sank around him. He saw the window right where he remembered the blueprints said. He heard the roar of a very unhappy Grizlikof and dashed to the window and kicked the glass out with his steel-toed boot. He pulled himself into the alley; two S.H.U.S.H. agents were already approaching, pistols drawn. With out hesitation he fired at them, sending a pink gas swirling in the air blocking their path. He turned and leaped on the nearest fire escape a little black box blinking it's green light on his belt; he darted up the stairs. Bullets whizzed up past him and he hopped up onto the roof. He stood in the center of the empty rooftop panting and sweating uncomfortably under layer after dark layer. Pangs of pain ran up and down his legs. He knew they were loaded with splinters and glass, but he'd deal with that later. He heard the clanging of dress shoes on metal steps. He smirked, a dramatic exit as always. The wind kicked up as the deafening sound of a jet engine approached. Darkwing turned back to the fire escape to see S.H.U.S.H. agent Grizlikof pushing two lesser agents out of the way. Darkwing took off his hat and bowed as a ladder dropped out of the air beside him.

"It was fun Griz, but like I said I have better things to waste time on!" He latched on to the ladder and the duck head shaped jet rose away as the cease fire ended causing bullets to "ping" off the bullet proof Thunderquack. He reached the open bottom hatch, pulled up the ladder, and slammed it shut.

"How'd it go Dee-dubble-yuh?" said the well-built pilot.

"Don't expect to be invited to tea Launchpad." Grumbled Dark as he sat in the co-pilot seat, tossing his hat behind him.

"Aw that's a shame I found a great crumb cake recipe the other day." Launchpad commented lightly as he flipped the radar jammer into action. Darkwing laughed and propped his hands behind his head. It was safe to say he could chalk up another victory on his list.

The situation was not the same in the heart of the city. In an large unmarked building pacing in an extravagant waiting room was a goat… and he was far from being in good spirits. His face hurt, and there was blood all over his favorite gray pinstriped suit. He barely had time to patch up the cut when Taurus Bulba requested a full report. So now here he stood in front of the massive mahogany doors that separated him from the Kingpin of Saint Canard. He knew in his gut that Bulba wanted Dr. Bushroot alive, but the sight of his own blood made him forget that. His only saving grace was the small vile in his breast pocket. It wasn't a total loss.

"He'll see you now." Said the blonde secretary.

He inhaled and opened the door. The office was dark, no surprise there, he kept it dark when he was discussing "business". Taurus Bulba's hulking silhouette was perched in his big red swiveling chair, seated behind his cedar desk. That damned pet vulture was sitting on his shoulder.

"Cut yourself shavink?" laughed the Bull.

"Err.." Hammerhead brilliantly retorted.

"I know vhat you hev done you fool. Don't even think about lyink to me."

Hammerhead felt his entire being go cold. The vulture watched him with one blood red eye.

"Your temper vill get you kilt my friend, fortunately tonight it took care of the dear Docktor. I belief you haf somethink for me."

Hammerhead fumbled with his pocket and produced the vial. He carefully placed it on the desk.

"Yes, veri goot. I believe our friend Professor Waddlemeyer vill haf some fun with dis." The Bull's hand enveloped the small glass bottle; Hammerhead's heart rose. "Which reminds me. I haf another project for you." He held a paper out to Hammerhead, who took it and looked it over.

"Waddlemeyer's granddaughter?"

"Indeed. He's been loosing momentum since ve graciously brought him here. I think the girl vill serve as motivation."

"Right." He folded the paper and placed it in his pocket as he turned to leave.

"Hammerhead…do not loose your temper dis time or you vill not get off so easy."

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---- Updated 5-2-2007-----