The Speed of Darkness
Chapter 6 - Operation Evasive Bass
"So where are we going, Phil?" Skipper asked a chimpanzee who's face was glued to the screen of an office computer. It turned around and began signing out to another, darker furred, chimp, Mason. He nodded with understanding before turning to Skipper and speaking.
"Marthe's Food Mart is a few blocks northeast of the dock you used to get fish from before," he said with a thick English accent. "It's a small place tucked behind a big office building."
Phil pulled up a picture of the front of the building on Google Maps, and Skipper acknowledged the store. The team and him had seen it before when following delivery trucks through the city streets, and he had a fairly good idea of where to go.
"Mammal, print us a copy of that picture," ordered Skipper, "Private, get us some wheels."
"Aye, Aye, Skippah," agreed Private before sliding on his belly across the floor and out of the office. A plaque on the door read Alice Smith-Head Zookeeper.
"Thanks for your help," Skipper said to the two chimpanzees who assisted him in using the computer.
"No problem, Skipper," responded Mason, nodding. Phil closed down the Internet browser he was using and they left the room to return to their habitat.
"Rico, weapons check," Skipper said, now looking at his explosives expert.
The heavyset penguin quickly responded by coughing up several weapons, including a blowtorch, a flamethrower, a pair of sharp knives, and a short baseball bat. "Check!" the penguin shouted happily before swallowing the weapons once again.
"Operation Evasive Bass is a-go!" announced the leader penguin happily.
He hopped down from the desk onto the floor and the three of them left the office building and walked into the evening air. The zoo had been closed for a few hours now, and all the zookeepers had gone home. The sun was setting in the west in an explosion of orange and red. Most of the animals had settled down for the night, but Skipper and his team had work to do on this particular evening.
"Our transportation is operational, Skippah!" said a beaming Private, who was standing next to a sewer entrance.
Skipper praised his specialist and the four proceeded down into the dank atmosphere of the sewer. It was not Skipper's favorite place, but it was the quickest way to move around the city without drawing attention from the humans. Skipper had learned through his years to avoid the people whenever they could. It would draw unnecessary attention to his team; blow their cover. The zoo was an exception though. People would expect to see the penguins in their exhibit at the zoo, but not waddling down Main street at near dusk.
Upon entering the sewer Skipper saw a zoo golf cart, engine still running, parked only a few feet from him. The penguins often used the golf carts to get around the city quickly, or to keep up with delivery trucks from beneath the pavement. It took two of them to drive it to drive it, or one with long, wooden two-by-fours to press the pedals with. The penguins had driven this particular cart into the sewer though a large service entrance ages ago, and after discovering how to refill the gas tank, it had suited their purposes ever since.
Rico took position at the vehicle's pedals, as he usually did. Skipper took a hold of the wheel and Private and Kowalski took a seat next to him. In no time they were off, speeding down a raised, concrete walkway that enclosed the slow flowing river of filthy water.
"Brake. Gas. Brake." Skipper ordered as they sped around hairpin turns at breakneck speed. They made great speed through the city down here, probably even better than the cars on the street above them, trapped in the evening rush.
It was only a short time before they reached the end of a particularly long tunnel, the end of the line. It was at the water treatment plant, and as the water flew over a waterfall into a huge reservoir, Skipper called for Rico to hit the breaks and the cart screeched to a stop. All four penguins assembled and climbed up a long ladder before emerging just outside of a huge filtration system. Skipper could see the docks where they had looted fish in the past, and noticed how they were empty now. At any time of the day, they used to be bustling with fisherman going from boat to boat. Now, nothing. He turned to his team.
"According to this map," Kowalski said, looking at the piece of paper that Phil had printed for them. "The food mart is four city blocks north, and two blocks east from where we stand now, Skipper."
"Wonderful," responded the leader penguin, "Team, move out!"
They proceeded then, using their highly trained senses of awareness to avoid being spotted by any of the humans roaming the streets or driving in their cars. They hid behind a mailbox, and upon Skipper's signal they moved quickly and tucked themselves in the shadow of a dumpster. They moved swiftly, going in and out of alleyways and finding the most concealed route. Skipper didn't like moving around above ground so much because of the risk of compromise, but they didn't know exactly where they were going. After they located the store they would be able to find a pathway in the sewer that resulted in a closer drop off.
After several minutes of traveling, the penguins reached their destination. Skipper saw the front of the building on the other side of an alleyway. Marthe's food mart was a small, rundown building tucked between two office buildings. It looked as though it had been their longer than any of the other buildings surrounding it, and that was probably true. There was a window with ads posted in it, and a sign above the door that read in big, bold red letters: Marthe's food mart – serving southwest Manhattan since 1933!
Skipper motioned for his team to continue down the alleyway, and they proceeded slowly. This particular alleyway sent shivers up and down the leader penguin's spine just by the fact that it was so deserted. They sounds of the city seemed to fade away and it grew very quiet.
"Skippah, look!" Private said, pointing to a dumpster not far from where they stood.
Skipper didn't see anything at first, but then he saw two birds one sprawled out on the ground and the other laying on top of it, visibly crying. The crying bird, a small and colorless with a short beak, heard Private's words and looked up at the penguins standing not far from it. It shot up, a look of terror on its face. It dragged the bird on the ground, which Skipper noticed was either sleeping or unconscious, until it's back hit a wall.
"Stay back!" it screamed, voice quavering. The voice was noticeably female.
"Kowalski, analysis." Skipper whispered to his first mate.
"It appears to be two pigeons, sir."
"Go away! Go away!"
The pigeon took up random pieces of trash up in its wing and whipped them at the penguins, but they were badly aimed and fell short. Rico coughed up a wooden sword and threatened to strike back, which made the pigeon flinch. Skipper held up a flipper, and the weapons expert lowered the sword.
"We don't want to hurt you," Private said first, "What's wrong?"
The pigeon across from them calmed down a bit. Skipper noted how Private had always been the best negotiator out of all of them, always knowing what to say and when it needed to be said.
"P-penguin," she choked, "Like you, except, except he was like a robot. He k-killed my Ernie!"
Skipper arched a brow at the small bird's words. He was sure that they were the only penguins on this side of Long Island, and grew curious as to what the pigeon was talking about. Had a penguin escaped from another zoo and went on a killing rampage?
"What happened?" Private spoke when nobody else did.
"I-I don't know. I came here looking for Ernie and I saw him on the ground, and there was a Penguin kneeling over him. I think he was crying." confessed the pigeon. "When I got close, he looked at me and then ran off."
"What do you mean he was 'like a robot'?" questioned Skipper.
"One of his wings, I mean flippers, was made of metal, I think. Part of his face and chest was metal as well. He kind of looked like he was in a costume." The pigeon answered, not crying any more but still holding the dead Ernie's wing in her own. Skipper rubbed his beak at the discription.
"Was Ernie close to you?" Private asked.
"He was my husband. We have three chicks at the nest who won't ever get to know their father." the bird said, voice beginning to sound shaky once more.
"I'm so sorry," Private responded. Skipper couldn't help but feel sorry for the bird as well. He, too, had suffered the loss of someone dear to him...
"I wish there was something we could do for her," Kowalski said to himself. Skipper looked up at his strategist.
"We're soldiers, not homicide detectives," he said after a pause. Kowalski nodded in agreement, though he still looked sad.
Skipper turned back to the pigeon. "Well we'll, uh, keep an eye out for the penguin you described."
"Thank you," she responded simply.
Feeling that was enough of a dismissal, Skipper gestured for his team to move out and they did, more quickly this time. Skipper pictured the penguin the female pigeon described in his head. He pictured a bulky bird with a metal helmet on. No, the pigeon had said that 'part of its face was metal', not that it was wearing a helmet. Skipper pictured half of the penguin's face covered in metal, surrounding its right eye. He saw, in his mind, a robotic flipper. Suddenly he froze, overwhelmed with a feeling of nostalgia.
"Skipper, are you alright?" said Kowalski, concerned. Rico cocked his head at his leader.
He hadn't seen a robotic penguin anywhere before in his life. How would that be even possible? But he couldn't help but feel the very strange feelings that were overwhelming him right now. Could it be? No, he was long gone, and why would he be a robot?
Skipper replaced a missing calm and collected look upon his face before speaking. "I'm fine," he said simply. Now was not the time to think, they were in the middle of a mission. And he certainly didn't want to get his team all out of shape by telling them his thoughts. He shrugged, then motioned for his team to continue.
When they were out of the dank atmosphere of the alleyway, Skipper proceeded to get his team's minds off of the whole event. They crossed the street when nobody was looking and went up to the front door of the grocery store.
Peering in through the window, he noticed that the store was empty. Probably closed down for the night, thought Skipper. There were several shelves lined up into neat isles with boxes and cans organized on top of them.
"There's no access point from this side, Skipper." observed Kowalski. He stood in front of the large, sliding doors that were locked shut. Rico pushed with all of his might but there it didn't budge.
"Perhaps you should try pulling, Rico?" Suggested Private. Rico nodded and pulled, but it didn't do any more than before. He wheezed before giving up and kicking the door.
"We need to find a way inside," Skipper said. "An open window, a back door, a hatch on the roof."
His eyes followed their way up tall drainage pipe on the side of the building, one that they could climb to get to the roof. He wasn't sure if there was an opening up there, but his team had found access points on the roofs of structures time and time again. He walked over to the pipe and grabbed it with his flipper. There were bolts in the side of the building that could be used as footholds and the pipe itself wasn't slick or hard to hold onto.
"Skipper you're not suggesting..." began Kowalski.
"I want you all on top of this building ASAP," he answered, "go, go, go!"