March 12th
"How are you feeling, Skipper?" Special Agent Marlow asked.
"Much better, sir." Skipper replied as he tossed his standard issue jacket over the chair before taking a seat in another nearby.
"I'm glad your rehabilitation is complete," the senior agent stated, closing the lid of his laptop. They were once again in the large empty conference room just off the medical bay, "I called you here as there are a few things I wanted to get out of the way. The first is merely paperwork; specifically, getting you reinstated you as an agent. Now, I'll need to know your real name." Skipper froze, the specifics of his expression unreadable, though scepticism was certainly present.
"Classified," he replied sharply, "sorry sir."
"Really, Skipper, it's just a formality but it's really quite necessary. Your records were destroyed according to protocol when you were declared missing in action."
"Sorry sir, but it is classified. I'm sure you can understand."
"I need to know, Skipper." The man's tone took on a dangerous, slightly fanatical edge. Skipper's eyes narrowed. If this was going to be a battle of wills, he wasn't going to lose.
"Classified, sir. Charlie Lima Alpha Sierra Sierra India Foxtrot India Echo Delta, sir." Skipper countered in a less than respectful tone.
"Very well, we'll come back to that," Special Agent Marlow seemed strangely displeased by this but forced a reassuring smile, "The second matter is, I'm afraid, somewhat less pleasant."
"Hit me."
"It concerns the LEOPARDSEAL agents that impersonated your team. They're still at large and require… neutralising. I understand there may be some attachment…"
"No sir. None at all." Skipper stated firmly. Marlow smiled in such a way that, had MORT been present the description, "creeeeeeeepy," would have been loudly announced.
"It won't be easy. After all, they were trained by you, so despite the fact I know you aren't one for planning on such operations, I would appreciate it if we did," Skipper's superior placed a plan of the HQ on the table, "Now, I thought perhaps it should be just you and two other agents. Shall we say… the Chinstrap sisters? You worked with them on Operation: Hornets' Nest?"
"Wait, didn't… Manfridi and Johnson," The memories flooded back to skipper like a burst dam, "Lost their hearts, a lung and fifteen feet of…"
"Brainwashing, Skipper," Marlow reached across the table, grasping the other man's shoulder firmly, "Remember, those aren't really your memories."
"Sorry sir. It'll be nice to work with them again. We'll do it March 15th. I know it's short notice but on that particular day I know exactly where everyone will be, and their various habits and routines will keep them separated: Rico will be checking the weapons in the basement, Kowalski will be in his lab and Marlene AKA Arlene Dietrich," Skipper, now recovered, pronounced the name with undisclosed distain, "will be practicing her singing in the living room where Flynn-Godfrey will be listening.
"I suggest since there's three of us, we go for a three pronged attack,"Skipper pointed to two of the buildings opposite the HQ on the plan, "Team A and B will wait on the south and west sides of the building respectively. Team C, Sadie Chinstrap, will enter via the roof. She can start through the elevator shaft, there are minimal cameras and sensors on the top entrance, then on floor three there's a thin wall between the elevator shaft and an escape tunnel leading to the garage. Team C can blast through the wall and start down the tunnel…"
"What about the weapons?"
"I have the jamming frequency. After she's taken out Rico, she'll start the car and wait for the rest of us," Skipper answered,"Team B, Betty Chinstrap, and Team A, myself, will start on the buildings to the south and west respectively. From there I'll zip line to the floor above Kowalski's lab. That apartment's empty so no one will see me. From there, I'll climb down to the window of the lab, cut through the glass, and silently take him out from won't be too difficult.
"Meanwhile, Team B will have no choice but a full frontal assault, and will zip line directly through the window and into the living she can take Arlene directly, making sure she stays between the door to the garage and the remaining hostile, Flynn. By then I'll be done with Kowalski and will block the other exit."
"Don't you think it would be safer if you took Team B? Both Dietrich and Flynn-Godfrey in one room might be a bit much for Betty if things turn sour?"
"Special Agent Marlow, don't you remember anything about me? I can't hit a woman."
"Indeed… So, what is your extraction plan?"
"We meet in the garage with Rico and Pri…Flynn then head back."
"Skipper, Rico's mind is gone, there's nothing we can do. You can't save him. But Flynn-Godfrey?" Marlow queried, "If you can't do it, I understand…"
"Sir, he's just a kid. He can be retrained…"
"He's a hardened killer. Don't you remember Jordan? Don't you remember DeWinter? He took them out in cold blood!"
"It's just…"
"He isn't really your son, skipper. They took your son years ago." Skipper's eyes met the table for a split second.
"Sorry sir."
March 25th
"Wakey waky, Barry." Slowly the aforesaid teen opened his eyes, trying to make sense of the coloured blobs that surrounded him. Suddenly all the pieces of overwhelming data seemed to come together and, unfortunately, only became more overwhelming.
"Winkies…"
Barry had been watching the kid for some time. In fact, he was willing to bet he knew him better than he knew himself, and because of this, he hated Private, as he was called by his adopted family, was much the same as him. They were both the same age, roughly the same height, were both receiving 'special training', and most importantly were both targeted by the cult he had now learned to be called Fossa.
He could now see Private in the footage from the hidden camera seated on the roof of the HQ on watch, accompanied by a box of peanut butter winkies. He could barely remember the last time he had one of those, seven long years ago. Barry glared at the screen, resisting the urge to destroy it all together.
"I thought that would wake you up," Private explained cheerily, "Skippah always says it wakes me up."
"You…" Barry's eyes darted about the room searching for the Penguin agent who would almost certainly return him to his cell in Hoboken, "You haven't…?"
"I have no idea what you have against Skippah, but I respected your wishes," At this Barry noticeably relaxed, "Now are you going to tell me what happened last night? Maybe I can help."
"No, not even you could help,"Barry muttered. Private seemed somewhat surprised by his choice of words. Barry immediately noticed this, "I mean, it's kinda something I wanna do myself."
"Are you sure?You were half-dead when I found you. I think I at least deserve an explanation."
"Yeah," Barry nodded, still somewhat spaced out, "I'm part of this club… me and a friend of mine. Well, there was someone at school I was angry with, in fact, the whole club was angry was responsible for getting me in… a lot of detentions, not that I didn't kinda deserve them, but he'd done a lot worse first."
"Two wrongs don't make a right."
"Maybe in Raincloud City, or whatever place that sissy show a yours is , the leader of my club said he was gonna find a way to get this kid expelled as payback," Barry didn't even know why he was telling Private all this, though he would later attribute it to a few nasty knocks on the head, "This kid had hurt all of , I did my part of the plan, but then I saw a way to get him, right there and then, and I figured: why go through this elaborate scheme (the leader kid's a little wrong in the head) when I can just get him now? So, I went my own route, and this guy would have gotten expelled if it wasn't for the leader of this club stepping in and telling the principle it was all me. Then he told all the other kids in the club, I was fair game. Well, here I am now." There was a pause after the story ended, the two simply staring at the winkie in Private's hands.
"Barry," Private looked curiously at the teen opposite him, "you don't go to school."
"Um…" Private really had him on that one, "So, enough about me. Did you find out, y'know, about your mother?"
"Yeah."
"Do I get an explanation?"
"You were right. It was a professional," Private twisted the wrapping of the winkie backwards and forwards.
"So, the police…"
"It wasn't that simple. The guy who killed my mum… he's the dad of a friend of mine. And this friend of mine found out. He… doesn't… can't believe…"
"I get it."
"Yeah." Private answered hollowly, looking down at the winkie.
"No." Barry paused. Actually feeling guilty for his actions wasn't something he was used to, especially when the source of the guilt had been the very source of his hatred, "I really do get it."
"We both get it." Their eyes for the first time in the conversation met with an understanding previously not shared between the two.
"Lincoln Douglas."
"Maxwell Flynn-Godfrey, 'Tree frog'."
"What are you trying to pull, Blue?!" Blowhole demanded over the phone as he paced outside the entrance to the Hoboken tunnels.
"You idiot! Do you want to be caught? I'm going to have to track you." The other 'evil genius' hissed.
"Don't you mean: do you want me to get caught?" Blowhole snapped in reply, "She's not here."
"Are you sure you have the right tunnel?"
"Am I sure I've got…! Of course I am! I know the tunnels backwards. Now, tell me where have you moved her?"
"I never moved her!"
"Well, Doris must have gotten her hands on a teleporter, then."
"Look, I've almost got a fix on your location. You need to get moving. I'll make some enquiries. Contact me in an hour."
"Private? Aren't you hungry?" Marlene asked eyeing the bowl, which was still more than three quarters full, "You did ask for chicken soup?"
"I'm… not so hungry now. Still, thanks all the same for making it."
"I had to give up fish stuffed Brussels sprouts and now Private doesn't even like it?!" Kowalski moaned.
"Nobody likes fish stuffed Brussels sprouts, Kowalski." Skipper stated, in a tone that assured the scientist that his team would never have fish stuffed Brussels sprouts if he had anything to say about it.
"Yuck." Rico concurred. Then Skipper noticed Private was headed towards the kitchen with his bowl.
"Since when did I give you permission to leave the mess, young Private," skipper stated, "Get back here and finish your soup."
"He doesn't have to finish if he doesn't like it," Marlene contradicted. As skipper, amazingly, seemed to have no objection to this, Private continued towards the kitchen. However, he did not stop there, but proceeded to exit into the hall and into the living room, where he entered the passage down to the garage. However, when he arrived with the much-needed dish, he discovered his patient was gone.
Barry twirled the vial between his well-practiced could hear Private calling out for him from the winkie didn't make this any easier go through with, but hey, maybe the kid would thank him some day. He just about did the job himself with a little encouragement. Well, that was a biased interpretation of the events, but now was not the time to grow a settled, he started the crawl through the various minor secret passages that snaked behind every wall in the HQ and garage in the pitch dark as switching on the lights might alert the team.
His objective was the kitchen. He knew from various dossiers that the coffee with the exotic fish was Skipper's. Nobody else ever touched his coffee, nobody but Skipper would be hurt. In five minutes, Skipper would be dead, and revenge for two years spent in Hoboken, and for the death of Hans the Puffin, one of the few teachers who'd shown him some kindness, would be complete, not to mention Private might find some closure after his mother's murder.
"Ow!" Barry exclaimed. Immediately his hand shot up, searching the dark, confined space for the obstruction.
"Shut up. Regardless of your identity I doubt either of us are supposed to be here!" another voice hissed.
"Blowhole?"
"Who do you think, Barry," The scientist answered, recognising the voice, "Now move out of the way."
"No you move out of the way!"
"This is a matter of life and death."
"Skipper's mine," Barry snapped, "I've got a whole lot more revenges on him than you do, so stand aside."
"Yes you go ahead with your little poisons. You'll just kill everyone but him since Skipper's not there."
"Then who's the guy in the room below? Hm? If you stop talking for a few seconds you may even be able to overhear some top secret Operation: something or other."
"A perfect android duplicate, complete with access to the internet. The Wi-Fi usage, and unidentifiable but suspiciously Kuchikukhan-ish signals emitted prove it."
"Oh, I really believe that." Barry returned sarcastically, and had there been decent lighting it would have been clear he was rolling his eyes.
"Barry, why would I…"
"I wasn't born yesterday. You can't trick me into letting you exact revenge first…"
"So let me get this straight," Skipper repeated sceptically, "You are trying to tell me, that I am, in fact, not me, but a crazy killer android who has imprisoned your sister, then disappeared, being the only person who knows where she is. You also say you only know all this because an equally psychotic and known to be highly manipulative, acquaintance who is technically, your enemy, told you."
"And you expect us to believe this." Kowalski finished.
"Well, I planned to do a little more investigating before I so unceremoniously fell through the ceiling, but I am certain enough that you are not dead. Functioning androids are far too rare,"Blowhole answered, "Now tell me where you moved my sister."
"That threat doesn't actually work if we've got you." Marlene commented.
"Blowhole, if I had your sister and threatened to kill her, I would currently be on the run from a certain love struck scientist. You'd be the least of my problems."
"Why thank you, Skipper." Kowalski smirked as Blowhole scowled.
"Shut up, Kowalski," Blowhole snipped, before returning his attention to Skipper, "And If you were a brilliant android currently on the run from Penguin enemy no.1 where would you hide?In plain sight, surrounded by a group of blindly loyal renegade agents?"
"Skipper,"Kowalski whispered, though his words were audible to most of the room,"Doris has been unusually quiet, and you have been acting strangely since your return…"
"Do I look like an android to you?" Skipper stated, raising his steaming cup of coffee, which had mysteriously appeared on the table,"Now, knock him out and send off an anonymous tip to Penguin to pick him can go seek psychiatric help for his paranoid delusions in Hoboken. By the way, good Joe, Rico."
Rico, who'd been frowning at the coffee for much of the conversation, cocked his head to the side in a querying fashion, "Ah didn' make tha'."
Only a few feet above them, in the partially collapsed tunnel, Barry smirked.