"So here's the plan: Rico comes to New York, making a lot of noise about it. The first thing he does is go straight to the Copacabana where K'walski has half a million agents," Skipper announced.
"But that's quite obviously a trap," The team strategy analyst protested.
"Ee no' gonna show up." Rico concurred
"But he'll be watching. Then I arrest Rico and cart him off to Hoboken where Kowalski will promptly attempt to break in and kill him. That's where we spring the trap. Got it?"
October 23rd 1975
Rico was seated at a table in the Copacabana, just taking in the atmosphere in his last minutes of freedom. He'd loved it in the fifties, back when he was young enough to belong in such a place. He'd loved the wine and certainly the women, but after the blood and the gunshot, he'd forsaken all that. Still, like Private had said, it had to go down here if it was going to get Kowalski's attention, if they didn't have that already after press attention he got; the team had leaked his arrival to the press as well as the fact he'd been the Penguin's Rico. That was another thing he missed, the attention, though the experience was somewhat ruined by the fact he was more than a little concerned that Kowalski might not remain true to Skipper's predictions and not let him make it to the 'Cabana.
"Hi." Rico looked up from the table. The singer from earlier was stood beside him, looking down through practically jewel encrusted eyelashes, "mind if I take a seat?"
"Go 'head, Doll." He replied. What harm could it do? The woman grabbed a chair from a stack at the back of the room, placing it uncomfortably close.
"You look familiar. Have I seen you in the news?" She asked.
"Rico." He replied.
"Dangerous." She purred, though received no reply, "They say you're here to make a proposition to the Rats. Tell me, why are you really in New York?" She asked. Her hand snaked across the table towards his. So that was it. She wanted information, and had heard that women were his weakness. Now the only question for him was who she was working for. She was certainly no pro.
"Marlene..." Skipper whispered as the eyes that had mapped every inch of the woman's face saw beneath the layers of makeup and costume. The first thing that crossed his mind, or more like outright skipped his brain and went straight for his heart was what the hell she was doing with Rico? Like that, he sailed across the bar and was at the table in and instant. Whatever it was Rico was trying to do, that was too far.
"... I need to know what Skipper's planning, darling," Marlene continued to press, though so far she'd received no useful information.
"Tell 'e more 'bout this powerful friend o' yours," Rico countered, "course, wha' 'ipper has planned pro'ably would depend on wha' y' friend would do in a si'uation like tha'."
"You're clever; you can probably work it out." She answered, turning on even more charm. Rico had to say she wasn't doing too badly. Twenty-five years ago, she would have had him hook line and sinker.
"Y' cute, but I need somethin' a little more pra'tical than wha' y're offering."
"You know my boss would kill me if I said anything. Now what is he planning, hm?" she smiled so sweetly it was almost sickening, or at least Rico found that interpretation less easy to be distracted by, "I really do need to know."
"Mind telling me what you're doing cheating on me with a wanted criminal?" Skipper demanded. Marlene whirled around as she opened her mouth to explain, but Rico beat her to it.
"Tryn' to get inf'mation 'bout you outa me," He replied, "Seems ta be workin' independently of…"
"You lied to me, Skipper!" She interrupted, "Again. Telling me you had a plan, that you were the one in control of the Rats…"
"Well it's good to know you're not the only one doing your job," Skipper answered, brushing the matter aside, "Don't think because you're wearing a skirt I'll go easy on you… And where do you think you're going?!" Skipper snapped, all but dragged his bait back.
"From wha' I got outa 'er I won' make it t' jail," Rico answered, "I ha' a preference f' non-suicide missions."
"So you're going back to Chicago?" Skipper countered, "You probably won't make it to the train."
"I'll take my chances." Rico resumed his course out of the nightclub, much to Skipper's annoyance.
"I'm going to arrest you either way, it's up to you whether it's for real or not…"
The punches flew between the two like some kind of strange dance. It was a different kind of fight, different advantages and disadvantages to their previous battle. For example, Rico was by no means holding back, though on the other hand, Skipper wasn't as blinded by rage as he had been the previous time. Marlene watched the movements, synchronized by weeks of training together, occasionally one winning the upper hand, though the balance always tipped back to the centre.
"I was planning on letting you go if you played along," Skipper informed as his first attack strategy was countered. Skipper had to admit he was at somewhat of a disadvantage needing to take his opponent alive and without too many injuries. Already he was losing precious reaction time having to mentally block his lethal knee jerk reactions.
"Jus' say that 'nfront of th' spy an' blow the whole op'ration." Rico answered. He was on a time limit. Skipper's not-girlfriend had supposedly come alone and was quite obviously acting on her own goals, she'd hinted that she needed to know Skippers plans in order to prevent him from once again confronting her employer, but Kowalski always knew where everyone was. Well, everyone but him; though even then he always half expected whenever he turned around or entered a room that Kowalski would be there with whatever method he'd chosen to exact revenge.
It was this time constraint that made Rico draw the small colt he'd hidden in a hollowed out area of the light armour skipper had permitted him to take, despite the fact he had to admit he liked the kid, and in the bigger picture they shared the same goals. Skipper was apparently expecting such a move and easily forced the weapon away from himself long before it went off.
At first they continued to fight – they had heard what could have been a cry of pain, but hadn't given it more thought than that – however on hearing a voice familiar to them both calling for medical supplies their disagreement was forgotten.
"Mom!" Skipper exclaimed upon seeing the estranged parent unconscious on the floor. However he was stunned only a second before he saw the man who was holding a makeshift bandage to the wound, the severity of which he couldn't see, "Captain to penguins and chameleons," Skipper ordered into a miniature radio, recovering quickly, "we've got him."
Kowalski didn't say so much as a word as he was arrested, though Rico put up a decent battle, however it was quickly quashed.
October 27th 1975
"I'd like to consult with council." Kowalski stated. It was just him and Jones in one of the department's many interrogation rooms, which hadn't changed much since his day. He wasn't thinking of that though. Constantly running the mental exercises he'd devised to prevent himself from breaking under the strain of remaining awake for what had so far been four days was one of the few things that did require his full attention. He'd done worse with his Skipper, but it didn't make it easier.
"That isn't how it works here, you know that," Jones answered, trying his best to keep to the script. Leave it to Kowalski to know a fancy way to say 'I want my lawyer', "we have evidence now, you might as well tell us everything," Jones got no answer, "please K'walski, you know I hate doing this and I know you'll probably keep going until you drive yourself insane, so just stop this."
"If it was anyone else I'd say you're lying."
"There's nothing you can help by not talking," Jones removed a tape recorder, one of the objects he irrationally severely despised, and proceeded to play back some of the witness testimony.
"…So you weren't focused on the fight?" Jones' recorded voice asked.
"The last three times de sciency penguin has been de bad news. My eyes were like the glue-ed on those two." Julian's familiar voice answered, "Anyway, she wouldn't have been shoot-ed if it wasn't for de penguin."
"I beg your pardon?"
"He pushed her in front of him, and then de evil penguin started de shooting."
"I took a calculated risk," Kowalski answered, instantly regretting the decision. He had to be getting weak if he was already giving into the enemy, though he had to say the prospect of even a short amount of shut eye was increasingly tantalizing, "I was under the impression an agent known to work for Lola's secret admirer was going to attempt to shoot me. I assumed that putting Lola between him and me would prevent him from doing so."
"And what happened next was an unfortunate accident. Look," Jones checked they were alone, "I can probably give you about five minutes, alright. Just give me something about the Penguins to tell my superiors." Silence.
Jones was still asking questions and receiving no reply when there was a knock at the door and Jones walked towards it, hoping Kowalski would use the opportunity to sleep.
"How's Lola doing?" Jones asked, given hope by the smile on his colleague's face.
"It was literally a scratch," Roger replied, "she only fainted because she saw her own blood. In fact, she was never even taken to hospital."
"Thanks Rogah," Jones answered with clear relief, "And PJ's fine?"
"Mad as a wet hen that he's being left out of the interrogations, but otherwise content." With nothing else left to say, Jones shut the door behind him, supressing a sigh and trying to regain some form of impassibility. However when he turned around, Kowalski was gone.
Marlene had been trailing Skipper since the arrests were made at the Copacabana, despite orders from both sides to stay put. That was why she'd been in the area when she got a call from her boss, amazingly enough from the number she recognised as being that of the Penguin HQ. What was stranger still was that she was told to wait in front of what looked like a solid stone wall. However, a few seconds later when several of the stones slid back revealing some sort of secret passage which looked as if it hadn't been used in decades, the order seemed less mysterious.
"You look terrible…" She commented sighting Kowalski.
"Pick a safe house." The scientist ordered, and then tossed several brown paper evidence bags with varying dates and cases onto the passenger seat, "get rid of these as soon as you get a chance."
"Just clean and recycle, or incinerate…" Marlene glanced behind her to see the terror of her existence already fast asleep. It was then a crazy idea occurred to her, and she stopped the car.
Shakily her hand left her pocket where she kept the weapon she'd been assigned the first day on the job. It would be pretty simple and painless to kill him now. However one look out the window reminded her that firing a weapon only meters from the HQ would have her arrested within seconds. She considered driving somewhere more remote, but by then she probably would have lost her nerve.
"Options, Marlene, options!" she fretted aloud then her eyes rested on the brown paper bags. Glancing quickly over the labels told her all she needed to know, and opening one of the bags she found a hunting knife in a beautiful tooled leather sheath, though the fine craftsmanship was tarnished by more than one drop of dried blood.
She removed her handkerchief from her pocket, using it to grab the knife so she would leave no prints and slid it out of its casing. However as she did so, a small piece of paper slid out of the leather, falling to the floor beside her feet.
Headquarters self-destruct sequence has been set to activate 15 hours from now unless deactivated remotely by myself (technical details can be explained later).
P.S. Private is officer of the watch and so will not be able to leave even in an emergency
K
She had no idea how he'd gotten that into a sealed evidence bag.