A/N: This is written in consideration of 'real-time' where I attempt to cover every step (rather than alluding to it) however non-action oriented it is.

A/N: I have edited the previous chapters slightly since I initially posted them. Nothing very dramatic, but I'll reserve that option for that possible one day in the future when I might find some stroke of brilliance and fix them up properly. I dunno, just maybe. It does happen.

Chapter Nine: The Terror

There was a relief receptionist sitting there when Drake returned to security reception.

"Could you tell me where I'm supposed to be?"
"You should be in a training session." The blonde didn't look up.
This apathy grated on Drake's nerves more than Joss's disapproval. "Yes, okay, but where? I fell behind from the others."

Now the receptionist looked up. "I forgot, sorry. Go down the corridor, to the right, third door on the left."
Drake recalled his steps that he'd just taken in his mind. "That's where I just was with the quarterstaffs. Where is everyone now?"
"Uh ... perhaps you'd better sit down for a while. Do you want your briefcase?"

"I'll get it when I leave." Drake sat down in a hurry as another wave of dizziness crashed down on him. 'If I leave, that is.'

"What's the big idea,Lawrence?"

Lawrencestood up at his desk. "You do not address me in that ..." He watched all seven of the people that were scheduled into training with Drake Mallard step into view, either in the room or milling in the doorway. "What are you lot doing in my office?" He let his anger drift away from him "what's the problem?"
"Who is this new guy?"
"He's Drake Mallard." Eider responded halfly.

"How are we supposed to work with a duck like that?" Clive asked frostily. "He's a maniac."
Eider narrowed his eyes. "Contain yourself, Clive."
"For what I just saw, he's the one that needs containing! Am I right, guys?"

"We're taking him in under contract and that is the end of the discussion." Eider said forcefully, crossing his arms.
"Oh, yeah?" Clive grunted.
"Yeah, I mean yes! This is an ideal turn out for Hamil Corp!" Eider said animatedly. "We now have full access to Drake Mallard's services as and when we require them. That's ... well, it's fortuitous. He's simply invaluable."

"I for one don't believe it." Clive grunted. "I could swear this was the same guy I took out in Whitechapel in 1892."
"Hamil Corp didn't hire you to spout personal prejudices." Eider scowled. "Not every bad-tempered duck that you find in the dark will also be a vicious psychotic killer."

"I agree with Clive, Lawrence." Joss announced. "Historically Envys make the trouble and we clean it up. That Mallard has 'mess' written all over him."
Eider clenched his beak. "I've seen this guy work, you lot. It may look messy, but trust me; his methods are quite effective. Now, why have you left training?"
"Bah; forget training!" Scott from the doorway scoffed. "This guy doesn't know a training session from a field exercise. You did tell him it was just training, right, Joss? Not the real thing?"
"Of course I did! In fact, it was Lawrence who said it."

She turned back to Eider. "Come on, Lawrence, what can Hamil Corp possibly need a guy like this for?"
Clive's face went pale. "Dear god. Now I understand."
"Oh, it's so good that suddenly you know all the answers, Clive." Joss grumbled.

Clive turned his head to the others and they all went pale as their heart rates dropped.
Eider growled. "If you have something to say, Clive, say it to my face, don't mouth it behind my back!"
Clive turned his head back to face Eider. "What's possessed you, Lawrence?" Clive asked in a begging voice. "The audit we had couldn't have come up that bad. I mean, we use our heads. We don't step out of line. What's the go?"

Eider raised an eyebrow. "You think our employing this person has something to do with the audit?"
"Well, sure." Joss agreed. "With you-know-who sitting up there on the top floor ..." Some of them shuddered. "We all know what she's about."
Eider sat back in his chair.
"Just tell us, Lawrence. Was it you or her upstairs that employed this Mallard dude?"
Eider was silent for a long moment as he chose his words. "You're all taking this very personally. One might even get the impression you believe the world revolves around you."
"Of course it doesn't but it's the only line of reason that makes sense at the moment. No Envys are ever hired into the security department."
"Well, as a matter of fact Mallard won't be here most of the time. Can't you find it within yourselves to deal with someone like this on the odd occasion? You're hardly perfect yourselves. Isn't there some forgiveness within you for someone like him?"

Clive slapped his hand on the table. "Not if we're dust there won't be!"

Eider blinked in shock. This conversation was too emotionally weird for him and Eider was fed up having it. "You are all dismissed." Then he frowned at them as they continued to stand there in the room in confusion. "Okay, for those of you who need a civilian translator, that means ... get-out-of-my-office-right-now!" They got out of the room and he summoned the nearby Vespers, slamming the door behind them. "Unbelievable." He rubbed his face.

Drake Mallard's mind returned from Curtis Mane back to his father, Drake Mallard Senior. Who was his father, anyway? All that Drake really knew for certain was that his father had been a fire-fighter. From this fact Drake also knew that both he and his father were both Mallards in the traditional sense: they had both made it their profession to face their fears.

Beyond these scarce few facts, Drake's memory and knowledge was sadly lacking. Drake needed to uncover and trace back his father's path that would lead him to the person who hated him so much to have murdered him. The Midnight Mallard had to find the murderer.

Darkwing Duck had to stop them from killing again.

"Drake, are you alright?" Drake looked up at Lawrence Eider who was standing in the centre of the room. "What happened?"
Drake blinked. "Nothing," he thought 'relatively speaking;' "nothing important."
"To you, it was nothing maybe. I on the other hand just averted a mutiny. Or I've at least delayed it for the time being. Clive is extremely upset."
"Upset?" Drake blinked. 'That must have been the one that rushed me with the quarterstaff.' "Let me remind you ..." Drake stood up slowly. "I have a dangerous job, but I don't have a death wish. I'll take the best advantage as I identify it."

"Well, sure, but you don't think you maybe didn't have to wail on them like that? The training session is supposed to be half an hour, not five minutes."
"You've got to be kidding me." With his unsteady blood pressure, Drake knew he wouldn't have survived half an hour.

"Drake, what made you think-."
"Tell me, Eider; how long does it take?" He fixed his eyes on the vampire. "Come on, a long standing head of vampire security ought to have an answer. Does it really take half an hour? What about five minutes? Let's try two minutes? Shall we count down from there? How long do you need in order to kill?"

Eider glanced away, looking at the floor. "You shouldn't attack when you're not armed with any defences, Drake."
Drake snorted. "I was a dead duck walking into this place. I was dead before I got here with snipers trained on me. There's already a gravestone out there with my namesake on it. Did you know I'm the last of my family? Genetically it all ends with me. All the Mallard fire-fighters, sheriffs, ambulance officers and musketeers throughout history all come down to me. There'll be no more Mallard knights to defend to the dawn once I die. And you have the indulgence to tell me to go easy on a couple of on-the-inside-of-two-minutes vampires. I'm surprised they didn't come at me all at once. Actually, I was expecting it, so why didn't they?"

"A training session is intended to keep the mind alert. Break up the work, have a bit of a social thing."
"What kind of proof is that?" Drake squawked in disbelief.
"Drake, you've successfully terrorized my security staff. Why are you so angry?"
"I've what!" Drake gaped at Eider. "I can't believe you just said that. The differential is insane."
"They think I've hired a Vampire Slayer. They think you're a Vampire Slayer."

"Give me a reason and I might make good on the notion." Drake stated coldly.

Eider stepped back nervously. "You gather your strength from your emotions."
"Why, did you think it ran in my veins or something?"
Eider took another step back, his eyes widened. "You've lost blood!"
Drake stiffened. "Isn't it company policy to give blood donations?"
"Yes. But why would Joss schedule it right before a training session? Why didn't she make it for afterwards?"
"Obviously to give me a long walk off a short pier. So, what's next on my schedule?"
"No. Go home; come back tomorrow evening at nine. I need to talk with Joss to get this straightened out."

"It doesn't bother me much." Drake brushed it off as the relief receptionist came around the table and handed him his briefcase. "I'm used to people trying to kill me. I've learned to reserve my expectations over everybody."
"Try to get some rest, Drake. You need it."
"I'll see you tomorrow." Drake went to the lift and once inside, pressed G.