Note: This was written before I realized you reach Mount Vesuvius on land. That damn DuckTales video game had me all screwed up.
Also, as I said in For Whom the Bell Quacks, I've been battling depression for the last few weeks and it's been hard to get the motivation to upload these chapters.
Of course, they had to employ the buffoon. His daughter was more capable and she was technically a junior SHUSH agent; she'd also insisted on coming along. At this point, Mrs. Beakley couldn't gainsay her. After all, her granddaughter was a FOWL agent and they were the same age. If Gosalyn was competent enough to hold her own against FOWL, then she should be able to provide backup. Darkwing Duck, on the other hand, was only along because SHUSH had insisted on it. If she had had her druthers, she wouldn't have allowed him to come.
There were a few other agents besides, ones Bentina knew by sight but not by name. Hopefully, her lack of familiarity with them wouldn't prove detrimental in the field. She thought she might be worse off with Darkwing Duck as an accomplice-he was unpredictable, which was never something she liked having, either on her side or against her. At least he comprehended the gravity of the situation. Having a daughter Webby's age had helped in that regard.
She wasn't positive they'd be able to handle an extraction. At best, she might be able to come face to face with Webby. At worst, FOWL would head them off and keep her granddaughter from ever getting near her.
She wished Dewey's presence wasn't necessary. However, Webby had made a connection with Dewey, which made him important if she was to have any chance at reaching her. Dewey was inexperienced, untrained, and, like Darkwing, unpredictable. She worried for his safety. His impetuousness could hurt him if he wasn't careful.
They were currently en route to Rome, whereupon they would take a ship to Mount Vesuvius. Time was of the essence, especially as Webby had a lead on them and FOWL would be forewarned. Bentina tried to envision what might await them at Mount Vesuvius. Steelbeak would not let his daughter go without a fight.
The flight to Italy felt interminable. She was too keyed up to read or relax; she could take something to help her sleep, she supposed, but she wanted her wits about her. Scrooge had come along too, as something of an auxiliary officer, and she hated how calm he was. She kept clutching the armrests and wishing she could break something. Webby had slipped through her fingers twice. Twice, goddamn it.
"Hey," Gosalyn said, breaking her train of thought. "Do you want me to talk to her? You said Dewey had some success. Maybe she has to hear kids her own age?"
Bentina frowned. It was true that it was unlikely Webby had had much experience speaking with kids her own age; in all likelihood, other children were banned from FOWL HQ. Webby must've grown up terribly alone and then punished for feeling that way. Bentina ground her beak together. Steelbeak wouldn't appear in person-he seldom did that for these types of missions-but she longed to wrap her hands around his neck.
Webbigail was her granddaughter, not Steelbeak's plaything. It infuriated her how he'd twisted her to suit his purpose, all to punish her and Wren, the latter of whom had disappeared years ago. Webby had never known love and compassion; Steelbeak would never have shown it to her. And Black Heron was bound to hurt her as a way to strike back at Bentina. What kind of upbringing was that for a child?
"Perhaps," she allowed, realizing too much time had elapsed between Gosalyn asking the question and her responding. She kept being lost in reverie.
Gosalyn desisted and Bentina stared out the window. There wasn't much to see and nothing to take her mind off their predicament. Webby could have completed her mission already or be close to it by the time they landed. She might not even be in Italy anymore. They could've taken this trip for nothing.
She'd tried speaking with Webby over the phone and it'd been a one-way conversation like all of her conversations with Webbigail had been after her abduction. She had to admit she was a little jealous of Dewey for having been able to speak with her. For years, she had burned to hear her granddaughter's voice. Over time, her memories of her voice had faded and when she tried talking to her, she only heard her own voice echoing back.
She glanced at Dewey, who was fussing with his phone. They wouldn't be able to call anyone from here, not unless they used wifi calling, which she doubted Webby's burner phone would support. Was it so wrong that she wanted to have a simple conversation with her after all these years? She wanted to bring her home.
Scrooge, who was sitting next to her, squeezed her hand. She glanced over at him.
"It'll work out," he said softly.
"You can't possibly know that," she scoffed. "She's already got a headstart on us."
"She'll wait for Dewey."
"She might not have a choice," she retorted.
Scrooge frowned and she knew, with a sinking feeling, that he didn't have an argument for that. The thought that they'd have traveled this far, assembled the team for nothing, made her eyes burn. She wished she could be alone, but it was impossible on a plane this size. The only place she could conceivably hide would be the bathroom, which was not created for someone with her dimensions in mind. Huddling on a toilet was also far below her dignity.
Mrs. Beakley reviewed what she knew about Magica. Fourteen years prior to Webbigail's birth, Scrooge had ensnared Magica in his number one dime. After Lena had betrayed the Duck family (after being possessed by Magica), Magica had repaid the favor and trapped Scrooge in his dime. Lena had managed to deflect a blow that would have killed Dewey, which, combined with the triplets and Mrs. Beakley's own interference, combined to defeat the sorceress. Since then, Magica had resurfaced on occasion, but she had been quiet for the last few years, living on Mount Vesuvius and occasionally receiving Gladstone Gander as her visitor, according to the information Bentina received. While Gladstone was an annoyance, the coupling didn't pose any significant threat to Scrooge or the McDuck family and therefore could be safely ignored.
FOWL probably wanted Magica out of the way, especially if she couldn't be manipulated into working with them. Webby's mission was probably as an assassin; after seeing how she'd reacted to the triplets, Bentina doubted Webby could kill anyone. Or, if she did, whether she'd be completely sane afterward. Webby was clinging to a shred of decency and morality. Strip that away and who would her granddaughter be?
They were only halfway through the twelve-hour flight and Mrs. Beakley felt like she was going out of her mind. Webby had a three-hour start on them. Of course, it would take her time to traverse the sea to reach Magica and then time to locate her, assuming that the sorceress didn't already have a read on Webby. There were too many variables.
She wished she had something mindless to entertain herself with. Gosalyn and Dewey were on their phones, Darkwing was talking to another SHUSH agent, and Scrooge had pulled out a business newspaper. She had nothing, nothing but time to contemplate how this could all go horribly wrong.
The pilot unceremoniously dumped her off the plane as soon as they landed. Webby gathered her belongings to her and prepared to board the ship FOWL had for her. Her heart hammered and she patted her pocket for the phone. She didn't dare call Dewey or anyone else anymore. FOWL would be on guard and the ship would probably be bristling with agents and weaponry.
Had she signed Dewey's death sentence by calling and telling him where she'd be? What if she'd meant to do that? What if she was sabotaging things to hurt herself and remind herself she was nothing but a FOWL agent? That any affinity for anyone else was a fallacy and she needed to shut that part of her heart out completely?
She paced the deck of the ship. It'd take nine hours to reach Mount Vesuvius. Normally, they'd drive, but FOWL wanted to pick up additional supplies and also avoid arousing suspicion by traveling overland. Regardless, it would take the same amount of time.
She hugged herself, rubbing her arms for warmth. It was warm in Italy, but she felt chilled to the bone. Her grandmother's voice imploring her echoed in her ears. Dewey, Lena, and her grandmother-they claimed that FOWL was wrong.
"You're having an attack of conscience, aren't you?" Black Heron sneered, coming up from behind her. She was standing at the bow of the ship and staring out over the water without really seeing it.
"Me? No, of course not," she lied.
"You were always too weak to be a FOWL agent," Heron said coldly. "You don't have the stomach for it. You should have killed those Duck boys rather than let them escape. And under no circumstances should you have contacted them after you left Duckburg."
She spun Webby around and slapped her across the face. "Fool. Steelbeak's sentimentality will be his downfall. When he saw that you were going to wash out, he should have had you killed."
Webby's insides churned and she blanched. Her cheek stung from where Heron had slapped her and her nerves, already knotted, tied up further. She was apprehensive enough about dealing with Magica without adding this to the mix.
"At least you got Lena de Spell," Heron sneered. "That was the least you could do. Congratulations. You aren't a complete waste of oxygen."
Webby bristled, balling her fists. "I can handle this mission and I'd do it better without you at my throat."
"You failed to kill twice. Twice, Vanderquack. You know what the price of failure is in FOWL? Execution. The same for traitors. Or are you hoping for death? Because I'd love to grant your wish," she said.
"You told me to leave them alone!" she protested.
"But when you saw they were interfering, you should have killed them," she said, implacable.
"It would've put Scrooge McDuck after us!"
"After you," she scoffed. "You're expendable."
Webby bristled again, balling her fists. "That's not what Steelbeak thinks."
"That's because you're Steelbeak's only heir," she snorted. "And you're not even worthy of that much."
She wished she'd go away. Wasn't it enough that she'd berated her en route to the airport in front of Lena? Why was she pulling this now? Webby's self-esteem was low enough as it was.
"I'm only waiting for you to fail," Black Heron said and smirked. "It's the only thing you're good at."
"I beat all the tests FOWL set for me," Webby growled. "I did it on my own, without your assistance, or anyone else's help. I can do this. I know I can."
Black Heron shrugged, unconcerned. "And when your precious grandmother shows up with SHUSH and the cavalry?"
"I'll stop them too," she said with quiet conviction, more than she actually felt.
"You have a new mission," Black Heron said and smirked. "Kill Agent 22. We'll handle Magica de Spell. If you can't kill her, then we'll kill you."
Sauntering away, Black Heron casually backhanded someone and sent them flying off the ship. Webby's stomach roiled. There was a world of difference between killing someone she'd never met and killing her only living relative. True, Steelbeak was her father, but it didn't feel like it most of the time. Could she do it, if push came to shove?
She'd have to. It was her life on the line. What choice did she have? She patted her pocket where the phone was. She almost felt like she ought to call and warn the others to stay away, but it was probably too late. They were probably en route too.
"Think of it this way," Black Heron tossed over her shoulder as she walked away. "You're already halfway there. You've lured her right where we want her."
Somehow, that didn't make Webby feel any better. This was going to be a long and unpleasant boat ride.