Chapter Twenty Six: Betrayal

Kowalski, Rico, Private, and Maurice had returned to the tunnel that they'd previously dismissed in hopes that it was more than it seemed. For the first time Kowalski could remember, he'd actually wanted to be wrong about something. At first, unfortunately, it seemed as if he'd been correct, and that the tunnel was a dead end. But upon further inspection, he realized that it wasn't a dead end at all. Squinting at the solid rock wall, he noticed that it was unusually smooth. With a firm press, he felt it shift, and push backwards.

"By William Osler!" Kowalski exclaimed. "It's a secret tunnel within a secret tunnel?"

"That's good news for us, at least." Maurice supplied.

Kowalski pushed it back completely to reveal a staircase. Shooting a glance towards his comrades, the four of them simultaneously concurred that this was a good find. If only Skipper were with them… Kowalski tried not to think about that. Though he quarreled with his unofficial leader on a daily basis, it was a fact that they loved each other. All four of the Penguin Eyes loved each other; they were family. For years their credo had been to 'never swim alone', something Skipper had darkly coined after his escapade in Copenhagen when he'd lost Hans to the ocean. The issue was that Skipper was alone at the moment…

There Kowalski was, thinking about it. He shook his head to disperse the thoughts and followed the winding stairs alongside his brothers and Maurice. When they reached the end, it extended further into another tunnel that they followed for a solid five minutes. Though it was a short amount of time, Kowalski felt as if it would never end. It did, in the form of a wooden door with an overhanging lamp. He carefully listened, but could hear nothing on the other side.

Cautiously, he opened the door. Big mistake - he mentally cursed the soundproofed walls that Blowhole must have installed. Why did the bad guys always get the good stuff?

On the other side, dozens of red officers had been lounging in the breakroom, engaging in what was essentially the militant version of cooler talk. When Kowalski inconspicuously opened the door, all eyes were on him, Private, Rico, and Maurice. Guns were drawn within instants.

"Oh great…" He muttered.

A fight broke out. Kowalski would be the first to admit - okay, maybe the second, behind Skipper - that his fighting skills were subpar… To say the very least. He was a man of science, not hand-to-hand combat. Still, he'd picked up on a few things here and there when in the CIA, enough so to rip a gun out of a red officer's hands and incapacitate him. Maurice and Private seemed to fare relatively well themselves, despite not having had any professional training to the extent of Kowalski's knowledge. And Rico… That went without saying for. He lived for violence, indulged in it, and had been looking for a good fight for a long time. He took out most of the red officers. Just a fragment of his volatile rage was more than enough to render the entire room void of enemy activity.

"Okay," Kowalski breathed exhaustedly. "I say we split up."

"Split up? Isn't that what we're supposed to not do in movies?" Private was just as winded.

Kowalski glared at him. "This isn't a movie, Private. There is a 73.8% chance that we'll be able to move with more efficiency if we split into teams, and that's not even accounting for the chance that Skipper makes an entrance."

"You just made that up." Maurice murmured.

He chose to ignore that. "Rico, you and Maurice try the east wing. I'll check the west. And Private…" Kowalski turned to him, his gaze turning concerned and a bit protective. "If my coordinates were correct - which they should be - the main computer is located just a few doors down from this room. Last one on the right. Contact Nigel, and please, try to stay safe."

"Y'gonna go 'lone?" Rico questioned, sounding unhappy about the arrangements. "...'Nd Priv'te…"

"I'll be fine, you two." Private assured them seriously, pulling them both into a hug. "You two just be safe. I'll see you on the top, all right?"

The three saluted each other, smiling in hopes that they would soon see each other again, in once piece.

The tunnel that Skipper was in seemed to go on endlessly. He was growing agitated; it seemed as if he would never get anywhere. At the very least, perhaps he could always turn around and try to dig his way out from the collapsed rocks… He sighed. This was turning out to be a bigger waste of time than expected. He needed to get to Julien, and he felt as if he wasn't getting anywhere.

He froze when he heard a scuffling noise from behind him. Turning quizzically, he saw that a part of the wall he'd just passed was… Moving. Carefully, he stalked forward, attempting to figure out what was going on. It was as if that specific part of the tunnel was actually, in fact, a door that someone was trying to open. He got ready to fight them, only to be shocked beyond all compare when the wall opened. Out of it crawled Hans.

Hans pulled himself out, before he finally took notice of Skipper and froze. The two of them stared at each other, wide eyed for a moment, before Hans spoke, his voice broken.

"S-Skippar? Is zat really you?"

Skipper thought he might faint, and he couldn't decide whether or not he wanted to step forth or step back. It didn't matter, he found, as he was frozen in place. Hans was standing right in front of him. Hans, who had been dead for eleven years. Hans, who Skipper had just gotten over. Hans.

"I must be hallucinating," Skipper whispered. "Hallucinating, or dead. You can't be here. You're… You're…"

"Skippar," Hans choked as if he was going to cry, stepping forward and reaching out. "It's me. I'm here now… I'm-"

He reached out and touched Skipper's face. His hand was warm, very real, very soft to the touch. Skipper immediately leaned into the touch, gasping softly as he realized what this meant. He felt his heartbeat quicken, his pulse race. He felt the world move through him, a plethora of thoughts all flooding into his head at once.

"Alive?" He breathed. "How…"

"Oh Skippar," Hans shut his eyes. He stepped forward and rested his forehead against Skipper's. "Nothing matters, now zat ve are togezer again…"

Maurice and Rico had edged their way into a room. Unlike Private, they didn't have a specific room to go to, and unlike Kowalski, they hadn't studied the layout of the place. This distinct disadvantage was probably why they were in a group of two - that, and Kowalski probably didn't trust that Maurice could fend for himself. Not against red officers, anyway.

As soon as they entered, Maurice paled noticeably. Sitting in a chair and reading a book was Dr. Blowhole himself, whom they'd just unwillingly confronted. Blowhole looked up in mild shock, before he slowly set his book to the side.

"Well, well, well." He sneered. "Skipper's little friends… Come to save the day, have you?"

The moment he reached for his gun, Rico attacked.

Private had to poke his head into a few different rooms, all of which were thankfully unoccupied, before he found the right one. He sighed in relief when he found the main computer room that Kowalski had been talking about; it was surprisingly empty, just a large computer at the end of the room. No red officers in sight, Blowhole no where to be seen. The computer had just been left completely unguarded. What was most odd, however, was that there was a message playing, hindered slightly by static as it emanated from the speakers. Private must have been the first one to have heard it. A familiar voice echoed from the computer-

"Ten eighty seven, Blowhole, ten thirteen immediately. Come in, Blowhole, I repeat, come in. Ten eighty seven ten thirteen."

Private stepped forth in confusion. "...Uncle Nigel?"

Kowalski was rather alarmed by how idiotic the red officers could be. He simply asked one where they had been keeping Julien, and received a complete relation of directions. How that got past them, he had no idea, but he was in no way ungrateful. Perhaps all one needed to do was to seem as if they belonged…

Either way, Julien was still alive, which was something that he could sigh in relief about. He'd followed the red officer's directions down an elevator and a staircase, through an extremely unnecessary and convoluted path, before he finally found Dr. Blowhole's prisoner.

"Julien, I'm here to rescue you." He explained the moment he saw Julien, laying on the ground with his back facing him.

Julien slowly turned to face him, his eyes red from having cried. "Oh, Kowalski, it is good to be seeing you. You must press that button on the other side of the walls…"

Kowalski did as told, and Julien had been correct. The solid glass wall separating them began to ascend like a garage door, allowing Julien to sprint on out. He released a tired sigh when he was freed, sending Kowalski a thankful look. He grabbed a bag from the chair, which Kowalski had recognized as the same bag he'd taken with him to the Penguin Eyes office the night he'd left Park Zoo.

"Where's Skipper?" He asked suddenly.

"Still in the tunnels. We got separated by a cave-in, but he should be fine." Kowalski replied as he began towards the stairs, inwardly pleased that Julien's primary concern was Skipper. He was such a good match-maker.

"Kowalski."

"Hmm?" He turned, only for Julien to practically leap forward and strike him in the jaw.

Kowalski almost immediately blacked out. The last thing he saw before falling into unconsciousness was Julien staring down at him. Julien leaned down and took the gun that Kowalski had confiscated from the red officers earlier, pocketing it for himself. Before he left, he sent one last glance down at the unconscious man.

"I am being very sorry, Kowalski," he murmured. "But it had to be done."

Hans pulled Skipper into an embrace, and Skipper finally got it through his head that this was indeed real. He hugged Hans tightly, trying not to weep as he basked in the warmth of his long lost partner. He squeezed his eyes shut and released a shuddering breath. This wasn't a dream, this wasn't some drunken stupor he'd thrown himself into after too many bottles of alcohol.

He still smelled, after all this time and separation, like the sweet ocean water with a beguiling hint of cherry. He still felt so lithe beneath Skipper's stockier form. Still felt so warm. Hans was real, Hans was with him, and Hans was very much alive. Skipper could feel his heartbeat, beneath their clothes. He could feel Hans' breaths, Hans life surging through him.

Hans was alive…

"Where have you been all this time?" Skipper suddenly stepped back to stare at his partner in bewilderment, though his hands still clutched at Hans' arms. "What- what happened to you, in Copenhagen-? I thought… All this time, I thought you were..."

Hans smiled at him sweetly.

Neither Skipper nor Hans knew it, but Julien was racing towards them, frantically at that point. He was running down the tunnel halls with as much speed as he could muster. He clutched the gun in hand, noting the weight. Two bullets. Lucky for him, he only needed one.

Hans said nothing, but instead, his hand slowly edged towards his pocket. Skipper watched in frozen fascination and astonishment when Hans pulled out a gun. He found himself unable to move when Hans lifted his arm slowly, and aimed the gun at Skipper.

The only thing he could register at that moment was pure confusion. "What are you doing?"

"Oh Skippar," Hans laughed. "The things zat people do for love…"