Chapter Twenty Seven: Technically, Missing In Action
Step one. Acknowledge that no one is going to come and save you.
Hans had a lot of problems with this step. After Blowhole kidnapped him, he'd suffered through the agonizing torture of sensory deprivation, almost-hope, irregular schedules, and several other forms of abuse. For the first several years of his captivity, he'd spent his time waiting for Skipper to magically pop up and save him from Dr. Blowhole's villainous clutches. For Skipper to come and take him away from the horrors of torture, of isolation. Afterall, they were Hans and Skipper, the two partners that were inseparable; Hans and Skipper, the duo that could take on any mission. Hans and Skipper, the perfect couple. Nothing could keep them apart.
But Skipper never did show up, and neither did anyone else from the CIA who he thought would care about him. Not even Nigel gave a damn about Hans' pain. It wasn't until Francis Blowhole mentioned that he had 'disappeared' that he knew he was completely alone. Disappeared - as in dead. Or, technically, missing in action. Just like Manfredi and Johnson. Just like Buck Rockgut. Just like Clover.
He finally came to the conclusion that he was on his own. No one was coming for him. He was alone - just him, and Dr. Blowhole. Him and his loneliness. Him and his isolation. Him.
Step two. Liberate yourself.
This step came naturally, after a little while. No one was going to come and save him, right? So why should he just sit around and wait for nothing? Why should he just let himself wither away in Blowhole's abuse? No, he was more than that. He was Hans, one of Nigel's best two operatives. He was the cream of the crop, the best of the best. And he realized, he didn't have to deal with any of this. No, he was worth more, and he could escape. And he would.
Step three. Enact phase one; find a weak spot in the enemy defenses.
Blowhole's lackeys, the red officers that sometimes called themselves 'the lobsters' were incompetent beyond all compare. Hans knew why Blowhole had them; they were expendable, easy to control through fear. But this was because they were stupid. And because they were stupid, Hans could use their stupidity to his advantage.
"Hey, were you at the Park Zoo last night?" Stupid guard on the left asked stupid guard on the right. "Man, I have such an achin' hangover. Can't remember a thing."
"Yeah, I was there." Stupid guard on the right gushed. "You really don't remember anything? There was a huge fight last night, and Clemson had to kick three guys out!"
"Clemson, ain't that the guy that owns the place?" Stupid guard on the left questioned as he scratched his head. "I heard he used to work for the Hoboken mafia back in the day."
"Yeah, but it's all hush hush." Stupid guard on the right stupidly responded. "If any of the Hoboken mafia found out about it, they'd kill him dead. Apparently he made a huge mess on the way out… He's got a real good bounty on his head." And bingo, the weak spot was right there.
Step four. Find an ally. Or, make one.
It was no secret that Dr. Blowhole played favorites when he wanted a job done. There was a mercenary for hire that everyone knew of as Blowhole's favorite, and his name was Parker. The two of them had been working together for years.
When Blowhole wanted something done, he had just the right amount of money to get Parker for the job. And Parker always accepted. But Hans knew Blowhole before this. He'd worked under Blowhole before and he knew that working for him was the biggest pain in hell. And he knew that after so many years of working for him, Parker was probably fed up.
Hans shouted in surprise when the door opened, only to see a very alarmed red officer standing there with a tray of food to give to the prisoner. Hans looked up from where he'd covered himself, staring at the dumb guard in feigned fright.
"Mein god," Hans exclaimed. "I thought you vere Parker! He's not here yet? Dr. Blowhole said zat he vas going to be here to torture me today."
The guard gasped and ran back up the stairs to go and retrieve Parker under the impression that Blowhole's orders hadn't been carried through. And Hans waited, smugly, for his new ally to visit.
It didn't take more than an hour for Parker to agree with Hans that the two of them both needed to be free from Blowhole's grasp. Parker hated working for him - he loved the money and how it had made him a rich man, but Blowhole was beyond insufferable. The two concurred to work together to free each other, but they knew that they couldn't do it directly. No; it had to be carefully planned, or else they would never escape. Hans assured him that he had it under control.
Step five. Enact phase two; Use the weak spot to your advantage.
Parker hadn't quite understood the roundabout nature of Hans' plan at first, but Hans assured him that it would work. He had Parker contact an old ex-CIA friend of his that he and Skipper had trained with. She'd run off before she could ever really become anything, so she'd never been taken out. Her name was Lola, she was involved with the Hoboken mafia. And she was very excited to hear that Clemson had been found and could be taken out; after all, how dare he betray the Hoboken family like he had?
After Lola found out where Clemson was, Hans knew that she and the rest of the Hoboken gangs would come for him. And, although Lola was a relatively quiet girl who only responded with 'yes' or 'no', her meat-head boyfriend wasn't. Parker informed Hans that word had gotten around pretty fast about the Hoboken mafia coming for Clemson. Clemson was scared out of his mind, just like Hans had wanted.
Step six. Set everything up just right.
Parker had investigated on Skipper's whereabouts. He told Hans that Skipper had become a private investigator for a self made company called Penguin Eyes, and that Blowhole had built up a vehement detestation for his work. They were constantly on the brink of a confrontation, and Hans knew that they both needed something to really push them over the edge. Something that would lead to Skipper finding him. Just one little push.
He'd heard the red officers mention Park Zoo a lot, which meant that Dr. Blowhole was probably one of it's biggest customers. And who would the coward Clemson go to but the corrupt New York police chief that he was acquainted with to help him escape from the mafia? Especially when this police chief happened to be his most influential customer. Clemson would beg for Blowhole's help to weasel him out. Blowhole would come up with a very dramatic plan and enlist Parker to help make it happen. And Parker would.
Hans made sure that Parker had casually slipped the idea into Blowhole's head that he should help out and get revenge on Skipper at the same time. Dr. Blowhole would never help anyone on his own, he would do it for the sake of putting Skipper's private investigation firm out of business. One little push, and Hans could be free.
Step seven. Wait.
"You know it's your fault you're here,"Dr. Blowhole taunted, not at all bothered by the fact that he could see his captive's ribcage. He instead settled for a devious grin. "If it hadn't been for what you did, all those years ago..."
"Someone will come for me soon." Murmured Hans' somber, broken voice. He'd gotten very used to Blowhole's blame game. Was Francis running out of torture methods? "Soon…"
"You've been more hopeful lately. That's nice," Blowhole nodded sardonically. "But I promise you, no one is coming. I've made sure of it."
"We'll see," whispered back the voice of his captive as he crumbled onto the floor and stared yearningly at the wall, as if he could morph through it if he stared long enough.
Once Dr. Blowhole left, he laughed to himself about how idiotic he was. He had long since recovered from the broken hopelessness that Dr. Blowhole thought he still faced. No, he was more than that now, and Dr. Blowhole would soon see just how right he was. All he had to do was wait for his plan to come into action; he knew it would take several months, but those months were nothing in contrast to the decade that he'd spent in captivity.
And so he waited. And waited. And waited. Parker would come to talk to him about how it was going, but for the first few months, it was just that. Waiting. Until suddenly, they decided that it was time to enact the plan - for Clemson to fake his death.
Step eight. Watch the sparks fly.
He couldn't exactly watch them, anyway, not from his room in solitary confinement. But Parker told him every detail about how he'd shot Clemson's bullet proof vest and how Blowhole had let the crime scene go. It was so painfully obvious that Skipper and his team were sure to pick up that something was wrong. Skipper was intuitive like that, and Parker had told him that he had Kowalski working for him too. Kowalski wasn't nearly as bright as he gave himself credit for, but even he was smart enough to pick up on how awry things were in Clemson's crime scene.
He and Parker split a bottle of wine that night, carefully making sure that no one walked in on the assassin and the prisoner celebrating a job well done. They laughed, and talked, and Hans felt the first taste of freedom just waiting for him.
Not long after that Parker explained to Hans that Julien, the Park Zoo's main dancer and Clemson's long-time suffering boyfriend, had finally come into contact with Skipper. It gave Hans goosebumps. Not a week after that, Dr. Blowhole confirmed that Julien outed the plan to Skipper, and that he was going to pursue him. This meant one thing to Hans; in roughly twenty four hours, he would be free.
Step nine. Enact phase three; reappear.
He'd honestly been sleeping when the North Wind had shown up, but his unconsciousness helped his 'helpless victim' act a great deal. They had babied him, bathing him, feeding him, clothing him. The man who'd interrogated him - if one could even call it an interrogation - was especially soft and easygoing. Hans knew he'd plucked directly at the right heartstrings, particularly detailing his relationship with Skipper.
Oh, how poor Hans had loved his sweet Skippsy with all his dear little heart, how sad and broken he was that he had been in captivity for eleven years and tortured. Poor, poor Hans. All that sweet, innocent, hurt little Hans wanted was to be reunited with his precious darling Skipper that he so loved and hadn't stopped loving for eleven years. Right?
Wrong. Hans hadn't loved Skipper in a long time, not really. Skipper hadn't come for Hans when he needed it. Skipper hadn't helped Hans, Skipper never cared. Skipper didn't deserve his love. Skipper was the one who made it out and he never thought to look for his missing partner that had thought they were in love. Hans had sacrificed his life for Skipper, and Skipper never even thought to do the same. So Hans would do it for him.
And it was nice, and easy, how the North Wind so willingly helped him with his plan. Either the CIA wasn't what it used to be, or Skipper and Hans had been something really special, because the North Wind was incredibly impressionable. They easily agreed to everything he said, easily took him as the victim - which he was - and they so easily trusted him.
Thanks to himself - not Skipper, not anyone else - Hans was no longer dead, or disappeared, or technically missing in action. Which left him to the last step.
Step ten. Revenge.
