In the early hours of the morning, the Penguins make their break. Gathering their supplies and readying themselves for what lies ahead, they sneak out before sunrise. Just as they are leaving, Kowalski puts a sign denoting their leave of absence on the hay bundles. For courtesy, it reads "GONE FISHIN'".
It rains steadily in the streets of Zaragoza, as they Penguins slip past streetlights and stealthily make their way to the nearest train station. Once they make it to their destination, the Penguins stand outside of the gates. As not to be detected, they linger in the shadow of an alleyway until Rico hacks up their disguise: a trench coat and a hat. It's a classic.
Once loaded onto the nearly empty passenger car, the Penguins unstack and let the trench coat fall to the floor. They leap onto their seat, which is secluded from the few passengers who are on the train. At the start of their ride, Rico pushes the luggage against the window. He perches himself on top, looking out excitedly as the train rushes past the city. Like a dog's tail, Rico's tail feathers begin to waggle. Given the early start to their adventure, Private lets out a yawn. He claims his spot in between Kowalski, who is listening to an iPod, and Skipper, who is closest to the aisleway. Snuggled in between his brothers, Private rests his head on Kowalski and begins to fall asleep. Skipper takes to reading a newspaper, or at least looking at the pictures.
That's when a man walks past, catching the Penguins off guard. He himself has a similar response, as he initially catches a glimpse of their setup in his peripheral vision. As soon as he passes the seat, he processes the anomaly he has just seen. Suddenly, he backs up to do a double take. This time, however, the Penguins are lying still. They look up at him blankly. Someone must have left their stuffed animals laying on the seat, he thinks to himself.
He shakes his head, questioning the amount of sleep he had gotten the night before. These early morning train stops were draining.
When he has gone about his way, the Penguins assume their previous positions. They remain on the train, as the sun rises and makes its way across the sky. Travelling through country after country, souvenirs begin to pop up on the seat next to the Penguins. Kowalski inspects the architectural elements of a miniature model of the Eiffel Tower, as Private and Rico look out towards the French countryside. As the day continues, Private holds onto a bouquet of yellow tulips from Belgium. He gives one to each of his brothers, including Rico who holds it in his break and raises his eyebrows at Kowalski who backs up in response. Next, they travel past windmills in the Netherlands, as Rico is trying on a clog. Unfortunately, he misses the fact that they are footwear and instead wears one on his head. Passing through Germany, they start munching on giant pretzels.
"Ooh, and Denmark is just over there!" Private points out the window.
Skipper mutters under his breath. "Jeg kan ikke trinfod i Danmark," which evokes a laugh from Kowalski.
"Hmm?" Private looks back.
"Nothing," Skipper pats Private on the head.
As the Penguins continue riding the rails, the steady rattle of the train turns out to be quite soothing. Skipper folds his flippers across his chest and rests his head back into the seat. This is a good opportunity to simply rest his eyes. They had been travelling for a while already, and the seat had proved to be quite comfy. Pretty soon, the penguin found himself dozing off, as the train's rocking lulled him to sleep.
Somehow, he is back in Antarctica and for some reason, he doesn't question it. Nor does he wonder why he is a chick again. He is standing in the middle of the little, snow bungalow. The dark sky reflects onto the snowy walls and fills the room with a blue tint. His brothers are fast asleep on the mound of snow in front of him. A light weeping chips away at the silence of the still night. That is odd. He goes to investigate, waddling towards the only other room.
"Ma?" He calls, his voice briming with curiosity and concern.
Gwen is standing all alone in her room, with her back towards him. At the sound of his tiny voice, she quickly wipes her eyes and turns. "Skipper?" She whispers. He shouldn't be up this late.
"What's wrong, ma?" Skipper waddles up and gazes up at her. He hugs onto her flipper that is much larger than him.
Gwen clears her throat. "Nothing, honey. Go back to sleep." She pleads, guiding him away from her flipper.
"But you were crying." Skipper asserts. He isn't going to leave her alone to cry.
She lowers herself to Skipper's level. Wiping another tear from her eye, she swallows. Is this the right thing to do? She nods, as if convincing herself. In a kind whisper, she proceeds. "Skipper, your father… - he's gone away for a little while."
"Why?" Skipper's voice breaks. What's taking his dad so long to get back?
The heartbreak in her son's eyes is already too much for her to take. "He's gone away… on a mission." She could always tell the truth later, right? She would regroup and be prepared to tell them all together.
Skipper's eyes light up. "Like a secret agent?"
Gwen pauses. "Uh-huh."
"Wow." Skipper is amazed.
"But, Skipper, you need to listen to me, okay?" She holds onto his flippers. He nods with gusto.
There is a sudden serious tone to her voice. She talks slowly and softly, emphasizing how important her next words will be. "I need you to look after your brothers now. You need to protect them. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes, Ma. I promise." Skipper responds with the sincerity he has ever exuded priorly.
Just as Ma brings him in for a tight hug, everything goes black. Skipper finds that the setting for his memory has vanished. Now he is standing in the middle of an empty void. Just as a wave of uneasiness washes over him, Ma's words echo in the distance.
"Can do you that for me?"
As he looks around for her, the voices of his brothers begin calling out to him. First, Kowalski, then Rico. They call his name, both of them sounding terrified.
"Boys?" He tries looking for them, but there is everything else in sight.
"Skippah, help!" Private's voice rings out.
Skipper keeps searching. "Private?"
"I need you to look after your brothers." Her voice becomes stern.
"Kowalski?" Skipper is getting desperate. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest.
"You need to protect them." She repeats.
"Rico?" Skipper calls out.
"Skipper!" Gwen calls out.
Skipper awakes with a jolt. He flings himself forward from the back of the seat gasping. It appears that a sudden shake of the train was the source of his rude awakening.
Private chuckles, "Looks like someone's finally up from his nap."
"You were out cold, sir." Kowalski reports casually, flipping through a tourist guide of Warsaw.
Private turns to Rico. "I told you he would wake up on his own, Rico."
Rico, who is holding one of Skipper's flippers over a cup of warm water, releases his grip. "Aww…"
Skipper is still alarmed from the sudden jolt. "What was that?"
"What was what?" Private asks.
"That racket – the shaking."
Kowalski dismisses the concern. "Oh, it was probably nothing. Just a little turbulence."
"Are you all right, Skippah? Sounds like you had a bit of a fright." Private places a kind flipper onto Skipper's shoulder.
Skipper laughs it off. "Me? Pfft. No. I'm okay." He winks to seal the deal. The idea of him being afraid – preposterous.
"Skipper's not afraid of anything." Kowalski joins in.
"That's true." Private agrees. That was a silly question. Skipper is always the one to comfort them when they're afraid. Private shakes off his doubt and heads back towards the window.
Suddenly, the train comes to a stop and the doors open. Maybe it was just from the frigid air that comes rushing in, but Private feels a shiver run down his spine.
The Penguins look at each other, before peaking around the seat to take a look. Who could that be? They're in the middle of nowhere. Besides, this isn't even a train station. They've almost made it to the tundra.
At least some of their questions are answered when five arctic foxes come clamoring in. Immediately, they take to the seats, sniffing the air of the car. It's as if their tracking a certain scent. Whatever that scent may be, it seems to be strong, as all foxes take their turn taking in the air. This undoubtedly leads to more questions.
"Kowalski… Analysis…" Skipper says, a bit unsettled. He tries to be inconspicuous.
"I've got a head count of about five foxes, Skipper." Kowalski whispers.
"Maybe they're friendly." Private perks up.
From behind them, another door opens. They glance back to see even more foxes loading themselves into seats. Private wedges himself in between Rico and Kowalski for protection.
"Are these the goons?" Skipper asks.
"I wouldn't doubt it. Given the passive-aggressive taking over of the train car, this is most likely a setup." Kowalski analyzes.
The two retreat back to the seat. "So, this is an ambush?" Skipper says in an even more hushed tone.
Kowalski weighs their odds. "I would say there is anywhere between a 60 percent chance to a 100 percent chance."
Private smiles. It doesn't hurt to be optimistic. "Maybe, we should ask them where they're going."
This emits a laugh out of Rico.
"What?" Private feels silly. He can suggest things too.
Skipper is unbothered by Private' suggestion. Actually, he's come to suspect those sorts of answers from the boy. "Something seems off."
"Well, to be fair. Arctic foxes are native to this tundra." Kowalski shrugs. It would be rather embarrassing to mistake them for a threat if this were just some sort of coincidence.
Skipper is determined. "Well, we've come this far. There's no way I'm letting a bunch of canines stop me from getting to that rendezvous!"
"Yeah!" Rico concurs quietly.
"Commence a riding the rails scenario! On three." Skipper orders.
On his command, Kowalski hops up onto Skipper's shoulders. They back up against the window, while Rico steps towards the aisle. He and Private are on lookout, while Kowalski begins prying open the window. Unfortunately, Private takes this opportunity to look out the window at the beautiful snowy scene.
Rico sees a fox walking their way and begins to whistle. He nonchalantly looks up at Kowalski, who in response struggles to unlock the window faster. His flippers move clumsily in response to the rush. Seemingly out of nowhere, a paw rushes inches from his beak with claws that dig into the window. Pieces of glass crack under the pressure of each claw.
Skipper jumps. "Tibetan sands!" However, he is quick to recover. He tries to play of his dismay, by fanning a flipper by his face and exclaiming nervously. "… is it stuffy in here."
Kowalski plays along, chuckling in his anxiousness. "Yeah, we thought - we thought we better open up a window."
They are left both laughing nervously. Perhaps, the canine would buy it and leave them alone. By the looks of it, that would be the best-case scenario.
The fox snarls in response, peeling back its lips to reveal sharp pearly-whites. He has a thick Russian accent. "I don't think so. You're not getting away from us that easily." He claws dig deeper into the glass with a crunch.
Kowalski attempts to play coy breathlessly. "Getting away? No, who said we were doing that?"
Private looks at the fox. Maybe, this is all one big misunderstanding. After all, it is against train safety regulations to jump out the window of a moving engine. He certainly didn't want to be rude to these strangers. "Are you heading to Siberia too?" He smiles up at the grim animal.
Kowalski and Skipper facepalm in unison.
The fox leans in closer to Skipper. He likes to intimidate his prey. It makes the chase all the more fun. "I guess you could say that. Of course, we have to run a quick errand before we get there." As if on command, the foxes turn sharply. All eyes are on the Penguins.
Realizing the position that they are in, Skipper makes one last bid for understanding. "Look, fox, we don't want any trouble." Couldn't they have just one train ride in peace, without having to take out some goons?
"Well, that's too bad. We didn't come here for scenery." The fox responds with a snicker.
Private, completely distracted, has his back on the foe. This is something that Skipper had repeatedly told him to never do. However, he's not thinking of that at the moment. His naivety has gotten the best of him, as he looks out the window, peering into the snow. "It is quite lovely to look out the windows." He chirps.
A detrimental mistake. The fox uses Private's compromised position to his advantage. He lunges forward with his jaws wide open. This is going to be much easier than he thought.
Luckily, Skipper is paying attention. He grabs Private, seconds before he would have been chomped by the foe. Private is yanked by both of Skipper's flippers up onto the back of the seat in front of them. The team immediately falls into their battle stance. However, it seems that they are completely surrounded.
Skipper, revved up with excitement, taunts the foes. "C'mon! Come and get us. Who's got the guts to try it?"
Private is even stunned by his leader's moxie. Skipper is always confident, and he has the utmost faith in his brothers, but they are completely outnumbered. Not to mention, they are trapped inside the boxcar. He whispers. "What're you doing?"
Kowalski assesses his leader's choice of words as well. "Um, Skipper, I don't think we're in the optimal position to be taunting right now.
Skipper dismisses their concerns with his laidback swagger. 'Pfft! It's us. We're always in the most -" He is interrupted, as a fox lunges at his side. However, he was expecting it. He beats the fox to the punch with a kick to the chin, sending it backwards with its chin the air.
He finishes his statement that was so rudely interrupted. "Optimal position."
"Enough of this. Attack!" The head fox commands, pointing a clawed paw at the Penguins.
The foxes all pounce at once. Like a tidal wave coming in from all sides, they avalanche in on the birds. Landing in staggered timing, there is a pile up of squirming foxes – their tails, paws, and legs inadvertently getting in each other's ways. Surely, at least one of them most have captured the bold bunch of birds.
A fox emerges from the pile triumphantly. He cheers. "Ooh! I got 'em! I got 'em!" With that, he pulls his paw up from the heap. Although he had ahold of a leg, it wasn't that of a penguin. Lifting up his paw higher, he retrieves one of his fox comrades from the pile. The entrapped fox looks up with a rather sour and disgruntled expression.
The lead fox snaps. "Where'd they go?" He lowers himself in anger, causing his unit to stop and look around.
Little do they know; the answer is right below them. From below the seat, Rico spits up a snow shovel. With Rico putting in the grunt work, the Penguins being plowing past the unsuspecting foxes. With each fox they hit, it is swept off its feet and into the air by the force.
As he subordinates fall back to the floor, the head fox barks. "Get them!"
The Penguins scurry their way to the back of the train car, and make their way out the door. The foxes, recovering their focus, are quick to follow. The next car that the Penguins find themselves in is a much different setting than the prior. There is a long table in the middle of the setup. Chairs seating humans in business attire line the side of the tables. At the opposite side of the boxcar, is a woman standing at a podium. Careful not to attract the attention of the members of this board meeting, the Penguins run underneath the table. The humans are far too consumed in their boredom to notice the animals. From above, one of the meeting attendees is snoring.
The foxes crouch under the table as well, hot on the Penguins' trail. Kowalski is last of the Penguins to make it to the end of the table. Just as the group is about to catch up, two white paws grasp onto him. He gasps, as he looks back at the grinning fox. Just then, the human above them jolts awake. The legs kick reflexively with enough force to send the fox flying to the opposite wall.
Seeing the fox slam into the wall sends the humans into a panicked frenzy. There is screaming and stomping from the much larger humans, as some run out of the train car in the opposite direction and others attempt to capture the foxes. The foxes are overwhelmed by the ruckus, while the Penguins are able to make their escape undetected.
The next car over on this seemingly never-ending train is a playroom. As soon as the Penguins enter, all five children turn in their direction. Gigantic smiles and bright eyes adorn their faces, when they see the cute and cuddly unit. The birds are too adorable to not want to hug.
"Penguins!" One of the rosy cheeked kiddos finally exclaims, as they all run towards the Penguins.
With their backs up against the wall, the Penguins, other than Private, did not want all of this attention. Skipper searches the room. He has to think fast, as the human children are approaching. They stampede towards them, as a giddy hindrance to their mission. That's when he catches sight of a toy car.
"Let's hitch a ride, ten o'clock." Skipper declares to his men.
They nod and leap onto the toy car, tossing out the current plastic, doll passengers. Skipper gently lifts up one of the dolls. "Excuse me, miss." He courteously bows, before tossing it to the side. "Punch it, Rico!"
Rico slams on the tiny gas pedal, as Kowalski takes hold of the remote control. He presses the button to actually send the tiny car's wheels spinning. They zoom towards the exit of the train car, weaving between the children.
The foxes are on all fours, hunting down the Penguins. They burst through the doors, immediately redirecting the children's attention. Stopping in their tracks, they watch as the children turn to them.
"Oh my gosh! They're so cute!" The children prattle, as they rush towards the foxes who share a resemblance with puppies.
To avoid hitting one of the children running towards the foxes, Kowalski makes an abrupt swerve to the right. The sudden jerk in the car's motion is enough to send Private flying onto the floor.
Private watches, as his brothers keep driving. None of them seem to realize that he has fallen out. The foxes that managed to evade the children's grabby hands are gaining on him. This is isn't good. He looks around for help and finds a red, rubber ball laying around. Like it's a game of soccer, well football to Private, he kicks the ball with all his might. The approaching foxes trip over the rolling ball and are sent tumbling over.
"Score!" He cheers himself on.
"Ata boy, Private!" Skipper congratulates, as he holds the door for Private to move to the next car.
As the Penguins make their break for it, three of the foxes are still in pursuit. Not for long, as a little girl tugs at the slowest one and brings it in for a tight squeeze. "Puppy," she hugs the resigned beast tightly.
There is no time for the Penguins to stall as they enter the dining car. As much as Skipper delights in their usual hijinks, he hopes this is the last car. Much more carelessly this time, the Penguins make haste and running down the center aisle of the car. The humans sitting at their tables begin to guffaw, and the chase, needless to say, evokes quite a stir.
Meanwhile, a waiter does his best to balance a tray on one arm and a covered platter in the opposite hand. With as much grace as he can maintain, he smiles politely at the alarmed patrons. He places the platter down on the table, as the Penguins rush by in a flash of black and white. This causes him to jump, nearly dropping the tray. However, he regains his balance just in time.
Trying to bring the focus back to his work and steady the elderly couple sitting at the table, he proceeds to lift the lid of the platter. Much to his surprise, Rico has made his way underneath the platter. With a smile, the penguin slurps down the entire fish that was originally intended to be served.
"BURP!" Rico belches, rubbing his full belly. The shock is enough to cause the waiter to drop his tray, sending dishes crashing to the floor in shards.
The couple at the table go from speechless shock to screaming, as a fox dives in for Rico. Just in time, Rico takes the platter he was standing on and lifts it up like a shield. The fox can't help but smash into it, leaving an imprint of its face in the platter.
"Ooh!" Rico admires the new shape of the platter, while the dizzy fox holds its head steady.
"Rico, time's a wasting!" Skipper calls for Rico at the back of the train.
The remaining foxes continue their chase, so Rico hops off from the table with the platter still in his flipper. Riding the platter, as if a skateboard, Rico glides from table to table, until he reaches the door. In doing so, he has also managed to thoroughly frighten nearly every passenger on board. But such is life for the rambunctious penguin.
Skating out the door, he joins with his brothers. They have finally reached the back of the train, as they stand on the railing. The train is moving at increasing speed, as the track below them juts out from under the car at an alarming rate.
Skipper yells over the sound of the rattling that is now louder than ever. "Get ready to jump, boys!"
Kowalski's gaze is still fixed on the track. Fear grips his webbed feet to the ledge.
"Kowalski?" Skipper looks at his lieutenant with concern. What's going on with him?
With wide eyes still zoned in on the track below, he shakes his head. "I don't know if this is the best idea, Skipper."
The hesitation gives the foxes time to catch up. Now only two of them, they stand at the ready to snatch the birds.
"End of the line, snow chickens." The same fox from earlier growls. He has had enough of this chase. It is no longer amusing to him, especially after being shown up by such tiny birds.
Skipper turns to his men with confusion. "What did the fox say?"
Kowalski repeats for his leader. "I believe he called us 'snow chickens', sir."
"That wasn't very nice." Private's feelings are hurt.
Skipper places his flippers on his hips, as he looks up at the assailants. "That's funny, because I don't believe this was our stop."
"Huh?" The second fox tilts his head.
Before he is able to process the thought, the Penguins are swinging up the railing of the train. They swirl up and onto the roof of the train in no time.
Once they have made it to their feet, Kowalski analyzes the practicality of their strategy. "Good job, Skipper! But now it seems we have a bigger drop in order to evade the foxes."
Skipper lies down on the snowy top of the train, as if it's a beach. "Eh, we could just ride the rails up here until our destination." He stretches out his arms behind him and lets out a groan as he stretches. Looks like he needed to release some tension. "It's got a nice breeze up here."
"Uh-huh!" Rico joins him.
Just as they get comfortable, Private looks over the edge of the train. He beings to quiver. "Um, I don't think that'll be quite possible, Skippah."
"Why not?" Skipper looks over with a raised brow.
Private begins to panic. "Because they're climbing up to get us right now!" He runs behind his brothers.
"Fox in socks!" Skipper leaps to his feet. "These Vulpes don't give up."
They foxes begin to creep towards the Penguins. It appears this really is the end of the line. Private begins to fear that they really will be captured. What will happen then? What could these foxes want from them?
The head fox instructs his lacquey. "Now, all we need to do is get them to Shawl, and we get our cut."
"Shawl?" Skipper pauses. Suddenly, the memory comes back to him. That horrendous seal with the one eye. He blinks, and it's as if he can see the monster again, staring down at him from the point as he had many years ago.
This flashback leaves Skipper vulnerable to an attack. Unfortunately for him, this is the prime opportunity for the subordinate fox to latch onto his leg. With only a yelp, he is swept up. He can feel the blood and indignation rush to his head, as he tries to bat the predator away with his flippers. It is to no avail.
The fox extends his reach to the side of his body to avoid Skipper's slaps at the air. "Well, that was easy. All I had to do was –" He turns towards the leader fox.
"Um, Igor…" Instead of an expression of excitement, he looks on with dread.
"What?" Why isn't he happy? These are the Penguins they were hunting. The least he could show is some gratitude.
"Duck." The stammering fox utters.
"No, penguin!" He lifts Skipper's foot up a little higher to show that he is in fact a penguin.
With that, the train goes under a tunnel. The foxes hit the mouth of the tunnel, causing the second one to release his grip of Skipper. They find themselves landing back on the ledge of the train with a thud. Skipper and the other Penguins, who had hit the deck, manage to slide underneath the tunnel.
Once, they pass the tunnel, Skipper stands up. "Sweet ex machina! That was a close one."
Just as Private stands up to join him, he finds himself on a patch of ice. He immediately begins to slip. In a flurry of panic, he grabs onto Rico's flipper for balance. Not expecting the sudden weight of Private's pull, Rico latches onto Kowalski. In turn, Kowalski dominoes into Skipper. This whole ordeal sends them into the snow below.
Up to his waist in thick, fluffy snow, Skipper holds onto his head. "Kowalski, status report."
Kowalski looks around. He sees two orange feet sticking out of the snow and kicking. That must be Private. Rico emerges soon after, tilting his head to the side. He gives the upward side of his head a couple whacks, sending snow out of his earhole. "All present and accounted for, Skipper."
Skipper shakes off his dizziness. "All right, on your feet, men!"
"You don't suppose those were goons who are after us, do you?" Private whimpers, still entrapped in the snow.
"Probably." Rico shrugs.
"It just doesn't make sense." Kowalski ponders.
"How so?" Skipper questions.
"The foe who sent us the message wanted us to meet them at the rendezvous. If that's the case, why would they send some of their goons out after us before we arrived?" Kowalski evaluates.
Skipper shrugs. This is puzzling, but what would he know about the minds of villainous foxes. He's not a psychologist or a zoologist for that matter. "I don't know. For the fun of it?"
"Maybe it was to ensure that we would make the rendezvous one way or another?" Kowalski pieces it together.
"Perhaps, even a show of force? To intimidate us." Skipper adds to Kowalski's theory.
Private, now out of the snow, squeaks. "And may I add, it worked?"
Kowalski is starting to worry. "They must really want something from us, if they'd go to the trouble of taking a hostage and sending goons out after us."
Skipper nags at Rico, like an unamused father. "Rico, did you swallow any more of crown jewels?"
Rico takes a second to think. When was the last time he did that? Hm, not recent enough. "Nope."
"Wait a second… Shawl." Skipper recalls the fox's words.
"Shawl?" Kowalski isn't following where Skipper is going with this. Who's Shawl?
"They mentioned something about Shawl. Something about getting their cut." Skipper explains further. His men still aren't following. He, in fact, isn't sure if what he is saying contributes any explanation.
"Cut 'a what?" Rico asks.
"And who's Shawl?" Private asks.
"It can't be." Skipper doubts his hunch is right. At least, he hopes it isn't. He had forgotten that name – he wanted to forget that name. To this day it was enough to send shivers down his spine, as if the foe was standing behind him that very second.
"Skipper?" Kowalski checks in with Skipper, who seems stuck in a daze. That isn't like him.
"That seal. After all these years…" Skipper whispers into the icy air.
"Surely, you don't think?" Kowalski remembers now, although he tries to find any evidence that negates the theory.
"Ooh…" Rico shudders.
"Who?" Private is getting nowhere in his asking. He's starting to feel left out of this sudden, shared realization.
"The one-eyed seal that managed to capture our entire village?" Kowalski checks in with Skipper to make sure they are thinking of the same Shawl.
Skipper doesn't give a direct answer. He can't bring himself to it. On the outside, he maintains his cool composure, but on the inside, he's chilled to the bone. "Boys, somehow, I suspect there's more to this than just a gang of ominous omnivores."
"Are we really prepared to go flipper-to-flipper with a herd of angry leopard seals?" Private dares to ask the question.
"I mean fossa, a group of marooned tourists, an animal control officer, and foxes are one thing." Kowalski begins to wrap his brain around what is in store for them.
"Actually, those sound like several things. All of which we've overcome before." Skipper denies any sense of fear that is stirring amongst his team.
"But these are leopard seals." Private cries.
Rico roars and onomatopoeias. "Nom, nom, nom!
Kowalski adds. "Our natural enemies!"
Private's fears begin to stack one on top of another, towering higher and higher above him. "And we did come awful close back there with just the foxes."
"Many times. Too many for our standard margin of error." Kowalski seconds.
"Uh-huh." Rico nods sheepishly.
"Maybe, we should just go back to the circus and regroup." Private is the first to suggest this but certainly not the last.
"It does pay to have a strategy." Kowalski shrugs. Sure, it sounded cowardice, but it might be the safest course of action. He slides in behind Private.
"Yup!" Rico agrees, moving closer towards Kowalski and Private.
Skipper is taken aback. They were the ones begging him to go on the mission in the first place. Now, that they were already involved they wanted to step back? Not happening. Not on his watch, at least. The foxes had likely informed whoever they were working for that they were on their way. To turn back now would be mortifying. They've never run from a mission before. What kind of message would he be sending if he allowed this retreat? He wouldn't be much of an example. "What and give up the mission entirely?"
"Not necessarily." Kowalski defends the plan.
"But – but… high stakes! Danger! This is what we live for, boys!" Skipper spouts.
Private disagrees. "Actually, Skippah, I do have a number of other interests, like –"
"Exactly!" Skipper wraps his wing around Private. "We can't break the poor Private's little heart." He pats on Private's chest, before releasing him. "Plus, we don't have time to head back. I mean – who knows what they would do to the hostage if we don't make the rendezvous?"
"He does have a point." Kowalski reconsiders.
"C'mon, boys, this is in our blood. We were born for adventure..." Skipper once again rallies his men, with a familiar tune. "It's what dad would have wanted."
This instantly perks Rico up. "That's right!" He throws a balled-up flipper in the air.
"And he fought off… five seals! All by himself. Don't you think between the four of us we can take on one old seal?" Skipper goads them on.
Kowalski laughs off his fear. "I mean, how even old is Shawl now?"
Skipper shrugs. "Pfft! Probably ancient. We've got nothing to fear, boys." He assures his brothers with his own confidence.
The Penguins begin their journey across the immense, desolate tundra. They know they have quite the ordeal ahead of them, but little do they know that this would be perhaps their most daunting mission yet.
As they waddle along, Private looks up at Skipper with bright eyes. "And since it's the same seal, maybe we'll find my parents!
"We just might, Young Private. We just might." He responds, patting the youngest soldier on the back.
[To Be Continued]
