CHAPTER 1
Weak, pale yellow sun rays shyly peeked above the windowsill of the penguins' small abode, casting a faint glow across half of the room and its furniture. The leader penguin, Skipper, sat at the mahogany table nonchalantly sipping at his cup of 'special' coffee. A fish tail flopped back and forth over the rim. Kowalski sat across from him, his flippers crossed and head bent over slightly. Skipper sighed and stared at the window with the terrible view of the near-crumbling building across the street. His chest felt tight and his eyes burned fiercely, red-rimmed.
Skipper's mind flashed back to the previous night and he could feel his eyes sting again and his head pound harder. It couldn't have been her. They may have had their differences, but… she would never do something this stupid.
Would she? You obviously didn't know her very well.
He launched out of his chair at the thought and slammed his coffee cup onto the table, making the fishtail slosh out of the mug.
Kowalski's head shot up, bewilderment etched into his face. "Wh-what? Did something happen Skipper?"
"No, nothing happened, Kowalski, which is what I am concerned about. It's already 0700 and we still don't have the beginning of a battle strategy!" Skipper griped, staring down at his comrade.
Kowalski blinked rapidly, attempting to rid the sleep from his eyes, "Skipper, sir, I know you're upset about last night." he began, "But-"
Skipper cut him off abruptly, his face darkening as he glared at the other penguin. "I don't want to hear, it Kowalski."
"Look! You cannot live in denial forever, Skipper. It's not healthy!"
"Kowalski, this sort of insubordination is strange, even for you! Now. Tell me where Blowhole's last whereabouts are. That's an order." Skipper growled, his flippers crossed firmly over his feathery chest.
Kowalski muttered something cross under his breath and snatched his clipboard from where it rested a few inches away. "Dr. Blowhole's last known location was in Paris, France." he replied with reluctance.
"Paris, eh? That's interesting." Skipper replied thoughtfully, taking a seat back at the table. "Far away, too."
"Three-thousand six hundred twenty four miles, to be exact, Skipper. Also, this sighting was ten months ago. Blowhole most likely moved somewhere else far away and extremely discreet by now."
Skipper sighed and glanced out the window behind Kowalski. The other penguin was right, Blowhole could be anywhere in the world by now. This was slowly becoming more impossible. "But it's our last lead. We need to go to Paris." He looked at Kowalski who looked like his mind was processing things at a million miles a minute. "What is it, soldier?"
"We could contact our boss, Skipper! Maybe he could send some experienced trackers and analyzers to look at this stuff and even go with us to Paris!" Kowalski exclaimed, a smile broadening on his face.
The shorter penguin nodded slowly before pushing away from the table and standing up. He tossed the fishtail into the trashcan by the television. "Alright, Kowalski. Let's go call General Rawhide."
Skipper and Kowalski trounced down the hallway and opened the door that led straight into the club owned by Julien. The tables that had been cluttered with empty cups and trash the night before were now wiped clean, probably by the tiny mouse lemur, Mort. The music hummed a low and quiet tune from the DJ's station. Julien, along with Maurice and Rico, sat behind the bar mixing together drinks and talking amongst themselves.
Julien perked up when he saw the two penguins, "Oh! Hello neighbors!" he yelled cheerfully.
"Hey, ringtail." Skipper replied casually, despite already being annoyed by Julien's overly bright attitude. "Is the phone working today?"
"Ehh, yeah. I am thinking so. It's in the back room." the lemur said, gesturing to the door located just by the end of the bar. "Just do not be calling the long of distance! That is a lot of monies to be costing, ya know?"
Kowalski took a deep breath, about to protest that Julien didn't pay anything, but was dragged away by Skipper before he could start a big, time consuming debate. As they entered the back room, the temperature dropped a few degrees. The room had barrels and crates of numerous sizes. In the corner, a cell phone sat upright, the LCD screen was cracked, reading "6:49 AM". They flipped it open and pushed it on the ground. Kowalski recited the number of the agency off and Skipper punched the buttons with his flippers.
Four operators and one sobbing secretary, the voice of the head honcho resonated from the speakers. "General Rawhide speaking. State your credentials."
Clearing his throat, Skipper spoke, "General Rawhide, sir. This is Skipper, Agent 0019 located in the New York City area."
The tapping of keys could be heard on the other side of the phone. "Ah, Skipper. It's been a while, hasn't it?"
"Yessir, it has. But this isn't a call for catching up. I'm afraid we have a problem."
"A problem, eh? What is it?"
"Myself and my general lieutenant were dispatched out to find and rid of a villainous cretin known as Doctor J. Blowhole."
The general chuckled heartily, "I know that! I am the one who sent you out on that mission in the first place."
"Right, sir." Skipper cleared his throat again and rubbed his flippers together. "We found a lot of intelligence on Blowhole from an informant of ours. We know that his last known whereabouts were in Paris, France. What I'm asking is if you would send us an analyzer, maybe even a tracker to help us catch him."
"A tracker? You've got a last known location! Whatcha need one of those for, boy?"
"That was ten months ago, sir. You know as well as I do that it's highly unlikely that the rotten creep is still there. A tracker could help us find him a lot quicker!" Skipper retorted, glaring at the phone's screen.
General Rawhide sighed, making a loud, crackling interference come through the cell phone's speaker. "I wish I could help, Skipper, but there's no one good enough I could send out. They're all out on important business."
"You're the leader of our agency; you can move anyone you want to, sir!" Skipper said, his voice raising a few decibels. Kowalski cringed slightly. "And this mission is important, too. Blowhole is extremely dangerous. He's a killer!"
"Don't raise your voice at your boss. Now the best I can do for you is transportation to London. You'll have to get to Paris on your own. But that's it."
Skipper bowed his head, trying to calm himself down and not shout at General Rawhide. "You can't even send us an analyzer?"
"Sorry, Skipper. You call me again when you're ready for London. The direct extension to my office is 446. I'll be waiting for your call, son." There was a click on the other side, then the sound of a dial tone.
The flat-headed penguin wheeled around to face Kowalski. "You wrote that down, right?"
By the time the two penguins sauntered out of the back room, a few customers had come in. Two regulars, Max the cat and his fiancée, sat at the bar happily downing their round of drinks. Another animal Skipper had only seen once, a squirrel with an eye patch, stood by the DJ's table talking with Maurice. Skipper and Kowalski walked past the bar and to one of the tables on the other side of the building. They yelled at Julien for their usual drinks and then the table fell into a lapsing silence. Ten minutes later, a pipsqueak of animal came rushing up to the table with a trey that held their drinks upon its head.
"Hiii!" it said.
"Hello, Mort." Kowalski replied, taking the two tall glasses off the trey.
The lemur dubbed as Mort looked up at the penguins with his giant yellow eyes. "Thank you at shopping at King Julien's bar!"
"Yeah. Put it on my tab, kid." said Skipper, frowning. The lemur screamed something in his squeaky voice again before skipping off to find the other lemurs. The table became consumed by stillness once more.
Skipper was angry. He had always respected General Rawhide, an understanding yet firm leader. Sending out one measly analyzer should not have been such a problem. It didn't sit right with him. Why was Rawhide so reluctant to help? Kowalski's voice lugged him from his thoughts.
"Skipper, I was thinking…" Kowalski began hesitantly, "We should go to Paris. And bring our own recruits. I already know the perfect candidates!"
"Biscuits and gravy, Kowalski! Are you mad? We can't take anyone unauthorized with us on this mission. And what's to say they get killed? It would be on our heads."
Kowalski rolled his eyes and sighed inwardly. He stared at his friend, "Just bear with me, Skipper. All right, yes, you're right. If we take anyone unauthorized and untrained, it could cause some serious consequences. But how do you propose we do this alone? You act high and mighty and invincible, Skipper, but you aren't. We'll need help if we even want a sliver of a chance to take out Blowhole once and for all."
The table fell quiet again.
"Skipper?"
"I'm going to have to see these recruits you have in mind before I decide anything, soldier." Skipper said shortly.
"Alright, Kowalski. Where's the fresh meat?"
"Meat at 2 o'clock, sir."
The actual time was 4:30 PM. Harsh, numbing rain swept across the city, unforgiving. Because of the dreary weather, many animals who wouldn't be there for several more hours rushed in for cover from the rain. The club was more than half-full, now. They drowned their sorrows with whatever Julien made them, and they happily paid him to make more.
Skipper slowly turned to where Kowalski's choice of recruit should be. Propped up against the wall, a penguin a bit taller than himself stood. He held a flashlight, his expression looking as if he was about to clobber anyone at any moment. Beside him was pint size penguin slurping up a soda.
"Rico and Private?" The leader asked raising his brow. "Are you mad Kowalski?"
"They're perfect for the job, Skipper! Don't be blind. Rico can swallow and regurgitate anything you give him! He has a desire for danger, he's insane. And Private. You heard him yesterday. Private wants to go out into the world and do something worthwhile."
"Rico might be able to hold his own, but Private? He's a little one! He can't fight."
"You don't know that. But honestly, Skipper, what other choice is there? Do you really want to go out and find some criminal with a big army that will one day come to collect a favor from us? Stop being stubborn and let's go talk to them."
%
Skipper cupped his flippers over their beaks and pushed them into the back room of the club with ease. Kowalski shut the door behind them, consuming the room with a chilling darkness. Skipper released his grip and nudged the two protesting penguins to the wall.
"Skipper! What in the world are you doing?" Private exclaimed.
"Yeah!" Rico cried, glaring at the flat-headed penguin.
The leader penguin cleared his throat and glanced at the two penguins, "Simmer down, boys. I've brought you here today because I have a proposition for both of you to consider. It's very important that you listen," Skipper glanced at Rico, "and then tell us what you think. Kowalski?"
The taller penguin nodded. "As you may or may have not guessed, we work for an extremely top secret agency. Recently, we have been assigned a case to seek out and apprehend a tremendously dangerous convict/murderer/thief/super villain. Unfortunately, our agency will not provide us aid in capturing this heinous cretin. Therefore, we wish to acquire your help in bringing said villain down once and for all."
"So… what you're saying is that you and Skipper want our help in catching a super criminal? Me and Rico?" Private exclaimed in shock.
"Precisely, young Private." Skipper said. "Now, we need an answer ASAP, boys. What's it gonna be?"
Private clapped his flippers together happily, twirling in a circle, "Finally! Yes, Skipper, yes! I want to go without a doubt. And Rico, too, right?"
There was no answer. The three other penguins turned to Rico. The mohawk-ed penguin frowned at them. He started shouting unrecognizable words, flailing his feathery flippers at them.
Private titled his head, "I think he's saying that this is all very sudden and that Julien might not let him leave because he's a bouncer here."
"If I take care of Julien, would you be willing to go, Rico?" Skipper said with a slight chuckle.
"Yeah, yeah!" Rico barked, his tongue spilling out of his beak in a sloppy smile. "Adventure time! KABOOM!"
"Good. Then it's settled. Both of you go and pack up and bring only the essentials! Kowalski and I will fill you in tomorrow on the entire. We leave at 0500 hours." Skipper ordered, "Get moving!"
The two penguins nodded and marched out of the room. Skipper sighed as he watched them go. He turned to Kowalski. "Can we trust them?"
"Can we afford not to?"
END CHAPTER 1
Author's Note: God, I hate this chapter. It's just a bunch of talking and filler and annoying out of character-ness and I'm sorry I'm even posting it, but I didn't want to wait any longer. I hope the next chapter will actually have some action and possibly some butt-kicking. Once again, I apologize. Review if you liked it, constructive criticism if you did not.
