October 3rd 1976
"Marlene! What are you doing here?!" Skipper exclaimed. He'd turned around to pick up a chess piece that had fallen off the board and well, there she was. For the first few seconds, he even thought he was seeing things.
"I came to see you," She answered replacing the piece on the board, "We never really talked again."
"Marlene, how did you get in here?" Skipper continued to question, "This is a top secret facility, a well-kept secret for 25 years; I don't even think Dr Blowhole could…"
"There was an open window," Marlene crossed her arms and anybody but Private wouldn't realise the subtle hints this was a defence mechanism, "So what do you want to talk about first, business or us?"
"Aren't they both business?" Skipper replied. Sure he was being cold, even by his standards, but he could never be sure she wasn't just using him again, well, he wasn't sure about the again, but he couldn't take the chance. Unlike Private, his name for non-strategic second chances was inexcusable security risk.
"Fine we'll talk both at the same time," She answered unshaken, "Business: I've got information you want, and you've got information I want. Us: give me a description of two people named Skipper and two people named Marlene, and I can bet you none of them will have anything in common."
"So what is this information?" Skipper asked, ignoring the 'us' part of the conversation.
"What I'm trying to prove, is because a) I'm only using you half the time, and b) your scientist hasn't got a crazy secretary who says shoot on sight, you've got no worries about my future," Skipper was starting to look particularly uncomfortable, so Marlene switched topics, "I want your file on your new fifth penguin, and I've got some information about your team that you will really want to hear, especially you."
"You must really want that file if you're starting this up again." That really didn't come out right.
"Alright, I'll give you this for free: the boss is seriously freaked out by whoever this guy is," Marlene studied him a few seconds, "Do you somehow think you have to be using me to spend time together?"
"If I'm using you we're both even."
"Then go grab the file and I'll spill my guts over a romantic evening."
October 10th 1976
"A word, Skipper," Jones ordered, poking his head into main room of the HQ. Promptly Skipper followed, his movements suggesting he knew exactly what this was about. Skipper climbed the ladder to the rooftop training area and shut the submarine like hatch, disguised as a fishbowl of all things, and faced his superior.
"All ears, sir." Skipper replied. Jones studied him for a few seconds before continuing.
"I got a call from Lola," Jones explained, "She's gotten some interesting information out of a source she wouldn't reveal, though it seems to have originated in the enemy camp. Apparently several people along with our resident criminal are not very happy with the resurrection of a supposedly defunct player, namely the Rats."
"Everyone in New York knew that weeks ago." Skipper answered suspiciously.
"According to Lola, K'walski thinks it's one of you."
"What?!" Skipper exclaimed. Jones was well aware Skipper knew all this already from Marlene. He was best to play along though. He'd never met a person who was better at consistently denying something than Skipper, either of them.
"The whole thing's suspiciously Penguin," Jones elaborated, "The Rats were being hunted to extinction after their leader and his second in commands were killed, suddenly they get a new mysterious boss, and through a series of careful embezzlements from Consolidated Amalgamated Steel, they suddenly become dangerous enough to get just about everybody's attention."
"None of my men would ever go that far," Skipper replied, "They aren't naive enough to think they'd be able to taste that kind of power and be able to give it up."
"Think about it Skipper. Make some enquiries." Jones replied, heading back down to the main room. He was wondering which one of his teammates Skipper was going to pin it on.
September 28th 1976
"Mail!" Skipper announced, entering the HQ carrying a stack of letters. Sure, they could go to the mailbox like normal people, but that would just take all the excitement and anticipation out of it, "Alright, what have we got here…" He scanned first letter, "Yup, it's for Rico." He tossed the man the letter, which he eagerly opened with a nearby machete, "Got another one for Rico, nope, sorry, other Rico. Private," He tossed the letter to the youngest member of the team, "Remind me later to send that to Jones' analysts for any kind of coded messages. We'll tell him it was delayed in the post."
"Alright, Skippah," Private replied.
"This one's for me, Rico, 'nother one for you… Well, what do we have here?" Skipper held up a letter, inspecting it carefully, before bursting out into laughter, "Look at this Rico, nerd boy poked his head out of the lab long enough to get his first girlfriend."
"Give me that!" Kowalski protested, making a grab for the letter, just as Skipper tossed it to Rico who opened the letter.
"'E ain' gonna have her long," Rico announced, unfolding the letter, "Starts with 'y' science hatin'…'"
"Personal, Rico!" Kowalski snatched the letter from his hand.
"What's her name, Kowalski?" Skipper asked.
"Doris, if you must know." The scientist snapped, slipping the letter into the pocket of his lab coat.
"Alright, alright," Skipper grumbled, "You've always made fun of my love letters."
"I don't suppose there's anything for me, Skippah?" Private asked. Skipper shuffled through the pile, tossing the boy an envelope, "Thanks." Private turned the letter over, having noticed there was no from address or stamp, nor did he recognise the stationary or the precise hand that 'To Private' was written in the centre of the envelope in. Still, he opened the letter, and started to read the neat, old fashioned script that covered a small portion of the page.
"Everything alright, Private?" Skipper asked. Immediately Private forced a smile over his fear widened eyes and ghostly pale face.
"Yes," Private replied. He glanced sideways at the scientist, before re-reading the letter, and glancing carefully through the evidence. After that he replaced the message in his pocket, intending to burn it at the nearest convenient time, "Skippah, where's other Rico?"
"I don' think ya friend has 'ny choice," Rico answered, handing the boy back the letter, "'e's got th' photographs a'right; I don' think there's really nothin' y' can do ta stop 'im."
"And I can't go to Skipper," Private continued, "Well, he wouldn't… It's one of his flaws that…"
Obviously 'ee knew you'd tell someone, probably me, 'cause even if a tol' Pri'ate he wouldn' believe 'e, so this ain' one of 'is mind tricks…"
"I guess he really does just want me to follow the instructions, though you'd think they'd work more in our favour than his. I actually thought you'd be the best authority on this kind of stuff, no offence, I understand you're trying to…" Private started back down the hall, "Thank you for your time," the kid's eyes lowered to the floor, childlike eyes one or two steps below tears. Then he stopped a few meters away, and stood thinking for several seconds before turning around, "Do you think if I could threaten him into giving me the photos?" It was an odd question to ask, especially for Private, but Rico didn't seem to take much notice.
"No offence 'id, but you'd need ta be standin' 'n front of 'n army t' do tha'.
Rico opened the letter as soon as it was handed to him.
"By the way, we decrypted it for you," Skipper commented.
"I go' nothin' to hide." Rico answered.
"Still, thanks for tellin' us which codes you'll be using in the next month," Skipper commented pointing to the first line of the message.
"Guess I'll have t' think a new ones." Rico answered as Skipper left, watching the kid congratulate himself on his victory. Now there was a good thing about always being thought of as the mindless psycho, nobody ever suspected you'd do a little anticipating and countering of your own.
"Business before pleasure: next month's ciphers are numbers 4, 13, 15 and 16, 24 and 25, 33, 42, 43, 44, 46, 47, 49, 57, 58, 59, 61, 64 and 65 in that order.
How are Skipper Kowalski, Rico and Private? I suppose they aren't completely restarting the Penguins from scratch, they probably had help from Jones' sleeper cells, but then you didn't do it alone either. Dangerously ambitious of them, still, I hear there's a high probability of them retaking New York.
Johnny suggest letting him create small team to sabotage competitor to counter attacks before it gets too late in the year."
Rico read. He took out a pen and started to carefully underline words 4, 13, 15 and 16, continuing until he had underlined all the words corresponding to the numbers written in the first sentence. The new message read as follows:
Kowalski restarting Penguins from sleeper cells dangerously high probability of retaking New York suggest create competitor to counter before too late.
Rico set the paper alight, allowing himself to watch it burn before starting on the necessary enquires to make his move.
"I just finished developing the photographs," The team weapons expert listened to Moon Cat O'Malley report over the phone, "Rico knew Manfredi and Johnson were undercover cops, and according to this, those two knew a lot of things he didn't want to make it back to Jones."
"Good," Rico answered.
"I haven't gotten to the interestin' stuff yet," O'Malley continued, his voice quavering more than usual such was his excitement, "I've got something here sayin' Barry was going to take care of them for him; he'd even ordered the supplies and arranged to have them lured to the day spa."
"Than's Moon Ca'." Rico answered before hanging up. He was going to have to have a serious talk with 'Rico'.
"Ah always suspect' 'oo," Rico accused, "'ippah say ah was jus' jellous."
"I've done a lot a ba' things, ya going ta have t' be a bit more spe'ific." The other Rico countered dryly. The two scowled at each other as they had at almost every one of their encounters but there was now substance behind the threats.
"Y' killed Ma'fredi and Johnson."
"I didn' do tha'."
"'eah righ'," Rico tossed him Moon Cat's photographs of the documents, "Mo'ive, means, 'nd a prediction of 'xactly wha' happened. Don' try tellin' me ya psychic."
"Fine, I wa' going t' kill them bu' somebody ha' beat me to I'," Rico countered, "If y' don' believe me, readin' a little further i'll say I wan'ed t' interrogate them firs'. 'ey had info'mation on Jones ah wan'ed even more than I didn' want their data on 'e getting' back ta Jones."
"Fine," Unfortunately the other Rico did make sense, as much as he would prefer him to be lying. It would be a lot easier to get the bird in the hand than the one in the bush. It wasn't impossible though, and he'd avenge his friends no matter what the cost to himself or anyone else.
"If ya thinkin' join 'nd destroy, it won' work."
"ah wasn'." Rico denied, but that was an idea.