Actually. I think this chapter is new material. I don't know for sure. I know I ended at 2.0 last time. But I also think some of my alterations involved splitting longer, action orientated chapters in two parts. Such as Negaduck Rising/A Duck in Wonderland.
Disclaimer: I do not own Darkwing Duck™ or any character, location or event from that said show.
Last time on The Duck Knight Returns
- Honker turns down Gosalyn offer for position of sidekick.
- S.H.U.S.H. expects trouble at the presentation for GizmoDuck.
- GizmoDuck is awarded a new suit of armour.
The Duck Knight Returns
Ch 12. The Assassination Of J. Gander Hooter
Earlier
Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep...
"What the hell, Gosalyn...?" Tank demanded. Irritable and sleep deprived, he could not fathom why Gosalyn would set the alarm for 6am. Not once had she ever been up at 6am.
Without opening his eyes he could already tell Gosalyn was out of bed. The familiar and comfortable weight which should be sleeping in to noon beside him was gone. She was already stepping into the bathroom. Bitch did not even hit the snooze on the alarm, allowing it to drone up.
"Get up! We have work to do," she yelled from the next room
"Why the hell do I have to get up?"
"You agreed to be my sidekick, remember?"
Ah, yes. Tank remembered. "Why would I agree to something as stupid as that," he mumbled. He still refused to open his eyes or remove himself from the warmth and security of his blankets. Not even to end the infuriating alarm. She set it. She would cave first and end its annoying beeping.
"I thought Darkwing Duck was supposed be active at night," Tank argued. "I only fight crime between the hours of 10pm and 7am."
Gos returned dressed in her Darkwing Duck uniform. She pulled the plug on the alarm clock. Victory.
"GizmoDuck is being awarded a medal from the Hooter today," she explained. "No way Negaduck could miss an opportunity to cause havoc and embarrass the Justice Ducks. It would be the surefire means of reclaiming his title of number one menace to the city."
"Is there much competition for the title?"
"You betcha," Gosalyn answered, agreeing with the sentiment it was a bizarre title to vie for. "Now get in the shower. I'll make coffee. Be good and I'll have bacon and eggs waiting when you get out."
Probably the best deal she would offer. Reluctant and with a dread feeling he was making a mistake, Tank shoved off the covers and peeled himself free of the sheets. He could hardly bare to open his eyes and he made his way to the bathroom, stumbling his way primarily from memory and the feel of the wallpaper against his palm. A state of full consciousness eluded him until the glorious hot water ran freely down his neck. He made no effort to be swift. In the cold of post-dawn morning the shower felt too luxurious to be rushed.
True to her word, Gosalyn had breakfast laid out for him once he was showered and dressed. The plate had gone cold, having been sitting on the bench waiting, but it was welcome.
...
Gosalyn retrieved the Ratcatcher from storage room at Rex's bar. Concerned for the young hellraiser and pool sharking accomplice, old Rex urged the kids to be careful. Now the Ratcatcher gunned through the empty streets of the Old Haunt. Largely clear of traffic at this hour. Few of the residents had jobs to be early for. Legitimate daylight hour jobs in any case. Tank rode in the monster cycle's sidecar.
We should have found something more heroic for Tank to wear, Gos lamented. Red shirt. Green woolen pullover with the sleeves rolled up. Navy blue jeans. Between his clothing and his wide shoulders, flabby tummy, unkempt hair under a black beanie and a packet of cigarettes tucked into the folds in his sleeves Gosalyn was reminded of a stereotype of a sailor or solider looking for a bar brawl, not a hero.
Worse was the camcorder glued to his right hand.
"You can't film us for U-tube, idiot. The criminals will recognise us."
"I'll edit it. This will turn my 'Tank TV' idea around. Think of how many hits I'll get. 'Darkwing Duck back in action.' Smoking hot redhead kicks supervillain butt. We'll be the next internet phenomena. You could be a meme!"
"You want to post, on your website and under your own name, video of you breaking the law," vigilantism was a crime. Had Gosalyn had a superpower, the Partridge Act would require her to seek S.H.U.S.H. authorisation before engaging in crime prevention activity. The act which made the Justice Ducks subservient to J. Gander Hooter.
Tank scowled when realised she was right. He refused to give up his dream. "A new site then. Anonymous. Constantly switching servers. We stage manage your public image so the people know you are here to help. No getting shot at by police like your dad."
True, public relations had been a sore Achilles heel for Darkwing. Tank had the kernel of a reasonable idea. Moreover, Gosalyn had no desire to step on Tank's dream of being a indy director/internet star while he was here, joining her in her own mad scheme. Undoubtedly, she would have to keep an eye content Tank intended to put online so he did not get carried away and out their identities.
Another cause to remain on guard, the temptation to chase glory over doing what was right. Gosalyn dearly loved her father and cherished his inner heroism. Nevertheless, she had him all figured out from day one. Darking had been shameless in his pursuit of notoriety and it had very nearly been his downfall on multiple occasions. It was a wonder Darkwing never thought to film his heroic deeds and send them to the news media. The egotistical glory hog craved a adulation and a headline.
Issue for another day.
"Alright," Gos conceded, "but if you're going to film us you should have brought a mask. In fact, we're going to throw together a serious hero outfit when we get back."
"This beanie rolls down into a balaclava," Tank offered.
"It's a start. Now, you have any ideas for a sidekick name?"
"Tank."
"No, I mean a nickname," Gos corrected.
"Tank."
"Something other than your damn name."
"My name is Tankard."
'Ugh,' Gos groaned.
"Well, what was Launchpad's sidekick name?"
...
Deeper in side the city centre it was difficult to find breaks in the plodding traffic. Gosalyn was rethinking using the Ratcatcher during daylight. Tank and her were drawing all sorts of amazed stares, points, honks, cheers and boos. At a red light kids ran on to the road begging for a selfie. Tank agreed before Gos could stop him. She ordered him to roll down his balaclava first.
Gosalyn pulled up a few blocks from the perimeter S.H.U.S.H. had created. They had the entire city centre on lock down. Checking everyone's I.D. Searching backpacks, purses and shoes. It would be a funny sight, Goaslyn and her arsenal of weapons standing in line for a pat down. "I don't carry I.D., sir. No, I have to protect my secret identity."
No way they would let through a couple of clowns in a Darkwing costume.
She pulled up in an alley a few blocks from the perimeter. Alone she might have attempted to sneak in over high rise rooftops with her grapple. She doubted she could persuade even loyal Tank to zip line thirty or forty floors above the street and evade S.H.U.S.H. snipers on the lookout for uninvited freaks dressed like clowns.
"What do we do now?"
"I don't know," Gosalyn admitted. Her first mission as Darkwing and she found herself woefully unprepared. "I guess we wait for the screaming to begin."
...
Now
Hooter delightfully read off the Gizmosuit 2.0 capabilities to an awe struck crowd.
"Heavy armoured yet light using a nickel-titanium alloy. Miniaturised cold-fusion cartridge can power the suit for a year before replacement. Fully flight capable, you'll notice the VTOL jets mounted to the back and feet with forearm jets for maneuver. Capable of speeds nearing March 1."
He continued, "Fully sealed and pressurised to allows for operation in inhospitable environment such as underwater or in the middle of a lava flow – but don't push it. Dr Bellum hopes with a few more modification the suit may even be able to operate in space."
Hooter touched another button on his remote. Panels across the suit opened to reveal the meat of the package.
"Multi purpose grenade launcher. Barret anti-material rifle. Modified HK MP7. Rubber bullets of course. M26 shotgun. Deployed surveillance drone. And flares."
...
Fenton Crackshell felt – well, he felt shell-shocked! Of course he imagined how great an honour now bestowed upon him. Director Hooter did not direct his organisation to produce a battle suit for any duck, duck or goose! The 2.0 suit may have cost – more than Fenton would ever see in his bank account it would be safe to say. Greater than gold, the faith assigned to GizmoDuck's integrity and ability to gift him such a crime prevention arsenal.
The fount of his discontent was he now felt trapped. Fenton loved his Gizmo-suit. He wore his armour as he wore his feathers. Mastering the technological masterpiece of famed Gyro Gearloose aided Fenton in grasping his own self-worth. Seeking a worthwhile job. Asking his long-time partner, Gandra, for her hand in marriage. Moving out of Momma's trailer. Additionally, the range of wacky gizmo's caused the suit to have an inconceivable variety of applications.
He leaned down to speak conspiratorially to the Director. He did not want the assembled crowds to overhear.
"These are lethal weapons."
"You don't intend the fight Negaduck with a dentist drill, do you?" Hooter waved off his concern. "The criminals do not play with kid gloves. All the weaponry are loaded with non-lethal ammunition in any case."
'Non-lethal' types kill if struck in the head or the heart. Fenton was not ignorant of this.
Fenton was mindful, also, of Grizzlikof's vague warning something was screwy inside S.H.U.S.H. Beware spies bearing gifts.
When Director Hooter gives a man a badge and a battle suit the man does not turn him down. Fenton could hardly politely state, "no, thank you," to settle the matter.
…
Keeping his beak behind a larger, older model Y-pad as if he were more concerned with updating his tweeter account, coupled with subtle manipulations of his appearance courtesy of Quackerjack and his fantasy role-play expertise, aided the mallard in thwarting S.H.U.S.H. high tech gear.
He stood behind his first two marks now. They were mingling inside the crowd, keeping an eye out for he. He intended to better his odds by removing the most dangerous Justice Duck from the chess board. The Queen.
All he required was an opportunity. For her loyal partner to separate. And Negaduck had an inkling all he required was patience.
...
"Hotdogs! Get your hotdogs!"
Lunchpad's feather's rippled and he glanced longingly in the direction of the stall. He could go for one of them right now. Surveillance jobs were always less of a drag on a full stomach.
But, no. He had to think of the mission first. Put his stomach out of mind for a change. Morgana, Caveduck, GizmoDuck - even Stegmutt. They were counting on him.
"Justice Ducks eat for free."
Time slowed down. Past dozens waiting in line and the shuffle of the crowd Launchpad and the vendor's eyes meet. His warm smile, dreamy eyes and soft buns spoke of a man who understood Launchpad's needs as a man. Taking firm grip of a fresh wiener with his tongs and placing it in his buns. Loaded a wooden spoon full of chili and delicately lathered his wiener, kissing his fingers to signal it was gourmet standard. He answered Launchpad's longing with a wave to come over. Offering his wiener to the hero of the city.
"Morg. I'll be right back."
...
"Hello, Morgana," a familiar voice she could not place spoke her name with compassion and sadness. She turned to the one who had addressed her and her world shattered.
His pink shirt. His green checkered sleeveless sweater. Flat, rounded bill. Wide, soft cheeks and tall forehead covered in snow white feathers. His emotional eyes and sad smile.
It was him. He was here. Gods, it could not be. After all this time.
Drake Mallard.
"Drake...," Morgana chocked. Her knees wobbled.
This was wrong. Drake was gone. Negaduck was not. This was wrong. This was a trick.
"Morg. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for leaving. I broke so many promises."
Negaduck never once indicated he knew Darkwing's identity. Negaduck could not have known Drake's usual attire...?
"Thank you for looking after Gosalyn," tears welled up in his eyes. Negaduck was incapable of emotion. God, it was him. "I owe you everything."
Drake reached out a hand to Morgana.
...
"Facial recognition has a hit…!"
Donkey was hovering above the tech specialists screen before he finished alerting the trailer load of agents.
A mallard.
A mallard in a sleeveless green sweater over top a pink shirt.
Donkey didn't have to look twice. He knew the face of his enemy.
"All teams converge!" he ordered. "Snipers, target is near the beverage stands. Pink shirt. Green Sweater. Uploading photo now."
Donkey gripped the hilt of his firearm and sprinted to join the hunt. Leaving Agent Dog to coordinate.
The screen repeatedly flashed.
93.76% Drake Mallard. High Probability Match.
...
"AHHH...," Morgana screamed and fell to the ground as a debilitating charge coursed through her. The source - a metallic bracelet placed on her wrist.
Drake had locked it over her wrist when he reached to hold her hand.
She had no time to consider the implications. Another charge was already torturing her. And another. And another.
"Your magic requires focus and calculation. The bracelet emits a stunning charge every three seconds and will continue to do so for the next hour. I'm sorry Morg. I couldn't let you get in the way."
"You bastard!" the wounded creature howled with all her fury. It wasn't the electronic shocks which fueled her hatred. It was how Negaduck had, in the space of a minute caused her hope to soar then broken her heart.
Negaduck turned his back on the fallen Justice Duck and approached the hot dog vendor whom had seduced Launchpad. Negaduck stepped over Lauchpad where he lay, drugged and unconscious with kindly members of the crowd trying to render aid while the paramedics were alerted. The rest formed a circle to give him room as they looked on with concern.
Over the counter the vendor handed a black mask, yellow coat, over sized grey fedora, a dozen smoke grenades and a purple gas gun.
The lid to the coleslaw popped open. Reggie a.k.a. Bushroot propped it up with a leafy hand and stuck his green head through. Shreds of lettuce stuck to his body by the salad dressing he had bathed in. His purple hair greasy and mattered.
"Can I get a towel, someone? Please? Thank you," the vendor/Eggman handed over his cooking apron. Patrons having ordered the healthy option threw their meals away.
...
Tear gas grenades popped off in every direction. Obscuring sight, stinging eyes and causing chaos. The crowded square became a trap.
A mass of armed S.H.U.S.H. agents pushed their way through the crowds, yelling for everyone to move. Their weapons were drawn.
"Snipers, report," Donkey demanded. Incensed by the distinct absence of gunshots.
"No shot. Smoke is obscuring visibility," came the reply.
"If Negaduck steps into the clear for an instant you take the shot."
"There's a lot of movement down there," referring to the now panicking public.
"Take it!"
A agent brushed past a piece of shrubbery here in the town centre. The shrub came to life, wrapping the agent in small branches and refusing to let go as he fought to free himself.
A small shrub could not hold a full grown man for more than a moment. A full grown tree come to life was another matter entirely. The trees attacked any security within reach, swatting at them and raking them with their branches. Then uprooted themselves to pursue more foes. Two rolled the mobile command centre on its side.
"Stegmutt," Caveduck pointed at the tree closest. A prehistoric roar and the stegosaurus/duck hybrid charged.
"Please remain calm. Follow me to safety. Please remain calm. This way to safety. Into the buildings. Off the street." Stegmutt needed help but the people needed it more. A panicked stampeded now would be deadly. Caveduck thanked the stars he had studied every exit from the square. A pre-school aged boy holding his fathers hand got separated in the crush of the crowd. Bubba pushed his way through the mass to pick him up and place him in his thankful father's arms.
He prayed Morgana and Launchpad were okay.
...
The worst of it was when the water began to rise. It started with a rumble. Soon a roar. Sewers flooded adding stench to the chaos. Outside the perimeter S.H.U.S.H. maintained officers Bobcat and Rabbit watched in amazement as a giant wave rushed up the city street. Tall as the street lamps, it bowled cars over before it. Unstoppable as a freight train.
The officers dove for the sidewalk and watched in amazement as the wall of water smashed their police vehicle into the second story of a building across the street yet left everyone on the sidewalk unharmed.
When it reached the checkpoint into the square the wave acted with greater viciousness. Riot control vehicles rolled. In their side were giant sized fist indents. Any agent who attempted to fight with gun or taser were slapped aside.
The wave re-shapped itself into a man. Three stories high and made of liquid. Invulnerable to harm. Whatever punishment agents protecting the event attempted to mete out was absorbed by his fluid body. The monster, formerly a man, sneered at their brave and futile persistence.
"It's always summer at Wet'n'Wild. Get your ride tickets now." He picked up several agents and a car, cramming the former inside the later. His arms he transformed into the roller coaster ride of doom. Increasing the speed and the g-forces as he sent them continually around and around in a circuit. Gleeful for their screams and motion sickness.
Bobcat and Rabbit, shaken by the near miss of being bowled over by a tidal wave and the loss of their police cruiser, were further dazed by the sight of agents battling a water golem up the street.
A roar and a screech of tires, the ugliest modified monster cycle they ever saw pulled up alongside. "Guide the people to safety, officers. Allow Darkwing Duck and her trusty sidekick to handle the situation."
Tank began, "Actually, I wouldn't mind if you let me out here...," but never finished his request as Gos gunned the engine. Bobcat and Rabbit overheard a faint, "noooo...," as the heroes sped toward danger.
Liquidator stumbled momentarily. A fifty thousand volt taser stung his calf. Not enough incapacitate the Liquidator though electricity still badly hurt. Stuffing his impromptu roller carriage though the second story window of an office building, he lifted a giant foot to squash an annoying insect.
The offending agent tried to run in vain. A foot crashed down on him. Rather than being flattened, he found himself swimming inside Liquidators body. A goldfish trapped inside a turbulent bowl.
"Feels like your lungs are on fire? How much would you pay for a breath of fresh air? Don't answer yet, you'll only fill your lungs with water."
A familiar roar caught his attention. Liquidator peered over his shoulder and was stunned. Darkwing Duck. Gunning the Ratcatcher. Lifting the front well. Using a parked sports car as a ramp. Launching the cycle through the air.
The massive cycle punched a hole though Liquidator's back and out through his chest. Loss of cohesion of his body allowed the drowning agent to finally swim to freedom and a gasp of fresh air.
...
Hooter yelled commands at the security nearest he to evacuate those nearest the across the stage and out the back. GizmoDuck helped, deploying a giant baseball glove to scoop people up and place them on the safety of the stage.
He deployed binoculars, searching in vain through the smoke bombs and gas grenades for Negaduck among the crowd. It was useless. Visibility had to be restored first.
Fenton had an idea. Deploying his helicopter rotors and a vacuum cleaner.
"Director, you must leave," Fenton insisted. "I will vacuum up this mess and find the nefarious cad," he declared heroically.
"Indeed," Hooter agreed. "Good luck, GizmoDuck."
...
Soaked but alive. Score one for Darkwing Duck. Gosalyn was thrilled (relieved) her ad-hoc stratagem had worked. The Ratcatcher had punched a hole through Liquidator's chest and left the fiend staggered. With difficulty she landed the beast machine upright on the street and wheeled to face her foe.
"I hope you got that on tape. I'll probably watch it ten times tonight."
"You got my camera wet!" Tank looked over his baby. Alarmed there may be fatal damage to his pride and joy.
"Sorry about that." Not. Gosalyn pulled her father's gas gun from her jacket and loaded a special round.
Liquidator had stumbled to his knees. One hand against a building to steady himself. Other holding his wounded chest. With a hole through and through his cohesion was damaged. The water membrane which held his liquid self together was torn. He lost half his mass, forming a puddle at his feet.
However, he had long ago mastered his fluid body and could not be subdued for any length of time. With difficultly (it would have been far easier were he his usual size) he reformed his membrane, reabsorbed the puddle and stood straight.
"The Duck Knight Returns. Critics cite your muddled plot, thinly written characters, and wildly differential tone. 26% Rotten Tomato score."
Gosalyn squeezed the trigger of her gas gun. Her projectile caught Liquidator in the knee of his left leg. It transformed states from liquid to solid, also turning a shade of grey. Surprised by the attack, Liquidator was stunned again that he could not move his leg.
Tank asked, "what was that?"
"Prototype grenade. Special rapid drying cement dad worked with SHUSH to develop," Gos explained, "in case of Liquidator emergency." She twirled her gas gun in triumph. Smug she had one up over arguably the most powerful of Darkwing's formidable foes.
Liquidator also had a reason to be self-satisfied. He calmly detached the limb and grew a new one. Oh, his size diminished to reflect his reduced mass. He was now only two stories tall.
"You have another one of those grenades?" Tank asked. Judging by how far Gosalyn's jaw dropped he reasoned the answer was negative.
"Nope," she admitted, "that... was the only prototype."
His camcorda still operation after all, he zoomed in on the young hero's face and asked the obvious question. "So, what do we do now?"
Gos turned the ratcatcher toward the town square and gunned it. Liquidator gave chase.
...
Gizmoduck settled into a hover above the square and activated his vacuum gadget. Sucking up the gas which obscured vision and protected Negaduck.
Mindful of the snipers above, Negaduck had other ideas. He climbed one of the trees battling S.H.U.S.H. agents. "Throw me," he commanded of Reggie, pointing at the famed hero.
Fenton's primary concern had been to find Negaduck. The last thing he expected was to be hit over the face by the flying duck. Literally.
"GizmoDuck!"
"Negaduck!"
Trading punches in midair. Negaduck clung to the hero's armour least he fall to a very painful landing. He tossed a grenade into the vacuum to disable it. The explosion damaged the Gizmosuit's circuits and disabled the flight rotors. Both hero and villain dropped like a stone.
Emergency chutes deployed to save Gizmoduck. Negaduck slipped and saved himself by using the gas gun grapple to wrap a rope around Gizmo's tire leg.
Feet on the ground first, Negaduck detached the grapple and loaded a sleeping gas round. With his suit damaged and unresponsive, Gizmo tried in vain to land a punch but he could barely balance on his single tire. Swift and efficient, Negs pulled the chute down over Gizmo's head and fired the gas round inside. The chute was now a ballon overfilled with knockout gas with Gizmo trapped inside. He dropped.
"No time to play cops and robbers, GizmoDuck. I want Hooter. We have business to settle, he and I.
...
Escorted to his armoured car by a loyal S.H.U.S.H. bodyguards, Director Hooter was almost to safety.
He was stopped dead in his tracks by a cloud of purple smoke which appeared before him. A shadow moved within the cloud. The bodyguards reached for their weapons. The shadow moved faster. Jumping in between them to make it impossible to shoot without hitting each other. Kicking, punching and whipping foes with the butt of his gas gun. Using the grapple attachment to pull a man his to finish with a round house kick. Pulling the pin on a laughing gas round to disable them entirely whilst holding his breath. The gas sealed the deal.
"I am the most fiendish terror that flaps in the darkest night!"
The uncontrollable laughter of the guards in the background should have made Negduck's declaration sound comical. To Hooter, whom the mad man was advancing on with violence in his eyes, it made him sound all the more maniacal.
The Negaduck aimed the gas gun directly at Hooters forehead. A gas grenade striking the temple at this range would be lethal.
"I'm surprised you would come out into the open. Any last words, Director?"
Before his eyes Hooter transformed. He became taller. Slender. Feminine. Grew long purple hair. Developing lizard traits such as large eyes, flicking tongue and a tail as long as his, now her, body.
"Fooled you," she hissed.
Feeling of victory became confusion. Giving way to outrage.
"The hell are you?"
The serpent was taken aback. "Do... Do you not know who I am?"
"Mystique...?" Negs ventured.
"Camille."
"Camille… Leon?"
"Chameleon! Camille Chameleon. Fifph member of the Jussstice Ducksss. Criminal massstermind paying her debpt to society. The power to transssfporm into any perssson item I can think ofp. I ssswear I've been in every chapter ssso far!"
Negaduck continued to appear lost.
"The phoint isss your intensssionsss were obviousss to Director Hooter phrom the ssstart. He knew you could not resssisst a chance to end him. We laid a trap and you phell for it. It wasss madnesss to come here."
He had walked blindly into a trap. His target had been an illusion from the beginning, the real J. Gander Hooter untouchable back at S.H.U.S.H. H.Q. This impostor before him hardly worth the effort. Yet, rather than rage or appear distressed, Negaduck surprised Camille.
He laughed.
He laughed hearty with like it was all a side splitting joke.
"Madness, Camille?" he questioned. "I. Am. Negaduck. I knew Hooter knew that I knew he would do that. So I did it anyway. Now, the citizens of St Canard bear witness as I embarrass Hooter and they will know that he knew that I knew that he knew and he still failed!"
Negs ended his confusing ramble backhanding Camille across the snout with the gas gun and releasing a knock-out gas grenade for good measure.
...