Author's Note: It seems Eagle has become a really popular character! I have had a number of reviews begging me not to let anything bad happen, which makes me wonder how much it's worth. I accept ...

In the meantime, we need more tentaspy! I think I should apologise in advance for the fish-related humour in this chapter. What can I say? I have the sense of humour of a ten year old...

Saving Private Soldierbot

Chapter Twelve: Investigations

Scoutbot had pretty much vanished. Dell saw him at work, but other than that, he was never there. No one knew where he was. The lack of that tin-can's company affected Dell more than he expected. He hadn't realised how much Scoutbot lurked about, chatting to him and Pyro Chinbao in the evenings.

More to the point, he was worried. He had even wondered if the robot was... Dell shot down that thought in a hurry. He couldn't go assuming the worst without more evidence. He knew that. Even so...

Even this wasn't giving him as much of a feeling of triumph as it should, he thought, as he grabbed his robotic arm in his left hand and twisted it off. There was a little resistance, and then it smoothly disengaged.

"Here." Chinbao said, handing him his new prosthetic. Dell had to admit that he'd made it a little too well- part of him shuddered, watching the prosthetic flop about in Pyro's grip, just like a real severed arm. Wasn't it Scout, back at Teufort before everything went to pot, who had once used the Red Spy's arm as a weapon? Somebody had. Dell felt his spine prickle. It didn't matter now- that poor young BLU Scout was long dead, buried in an unmarked pile of stones in a deserted stretch of forest.

Well, Dell Conagher, you sure know how to cheer yourself up. Concentrate, you old fool.

"Here goes." Dell placed what remained of his right arm in the socket, and gave another twist, attaching the new prosthetic with a firm click. He held it up and flexed his fingers. Except for a slight dent around the middle of his forearm, it looked entirely human. He smiled in satisfaction.

"You did it!" Pyro stood and laughed, clapping his hands gleefully. Dell had no problems understanding the masked man after being friends for so long. "You're a genius."

He gave a slight grin. Being called a 'genius' always made him squirm a bit. He'd never felt particularly special- he just did the things that interested him. "You helped a lot with the colours, Sparkie. You have an eye for that. I'll still use the old one, since it's more versatile, but I reckon our L'il missy will be pleased to see this. Could make us a lot of money, I reckon. I'll wear it for a bit, see how it feels."

"You could make Scoutbot look human." Pyro said softly. "Maybe he'd like that?"

Dell whistled through his teeth in thought, tapping his fingers. "Nope," He said after a long moment, "Not sure he would. Humans don't have wings, see?"

"You could ask him." Pyro replied slyly.

"Aww, heck." Engineer replied with a defeated sigh. "It's not that I don't want to..."

"You don't want to." Pyro pointed out.

"Alright, alright, he got me all riled up." Dell admitted. "But...I can't get near him outside of work-time. No point tryin' to strike up a conversation when there's a whole loada folks about, is there?"

"'Oh, Scoutbot, would you let me know if you've gone crazy or not?'" Pyro said in a sing-song voice. "People ask me that. I never know what to answer." His masked head drooped and he looked at his knees.

"Yer not crazy, yer just...special." Dell assured him. He snorted mirthlessly."Just like the rest of us in this crazy place. Talented and sane rarely go together, and most folks 'round here are as talented as a box of frogs!"

"Scoutbot is sane." Chinbao said firmly. "He's not a threat. He's a good man."

"Huh." Dell muttered in reply. Pyro had this...way of seeing things, that made Dell, as a scientific and sceptical man, rather uneasy. He had discussed it with Medic once, and the German had said that Pyro was 'highly intuitive', whatever that meant. He would predict events or the ways people would act in a way Dell couldn't help but think was impossible and, even more annoyingly, get it absolutely right. So, even though it irked his scientific ethics, he had learnt to listen to the masked man's hunches and feelings.

"He is on a road." Chinbao continued. "He travels."

"Where to, Sparky?"

Pyro paused for a moment, deep in thought. "His life. His Way."

"Right, that's real helpful." Dell replied sourly.

"I'm sorry." Pyro looked down again in shame.

"Aw, heck, I'm sorry, son, didn't mean to upset you. I'm just worried about him, is all." Dell patted the rubber suited shoulder comfortingly.

"His friends know. Jacques, Tiny Vlad." Chinbao paused. "Maybe Albrecht."

"How do you kn..." Dell stopped himself. "I... guess I could check in on them. Thanks, Sparky."

"Are you going now?"

"Yep. Best I get it done." Dell said, squaring his shoulders. "I'll tell you how I get on."

Pyro gave Dell an encouraging wave as he walked off. So, who would he try to track down first? He could use their internal mind-to-mind telecoms left over from the robot war, but since the Mass Migraine of December '71, it was mostly unused, since it caused every single person on the base, with the exception of Pauling's group, to hear loud voices in their heads. This was not an emergency; no need to badger everyone.

He padded down the corridor, realising that Medic Albrecht's infirmary would be the closest. Also, Albrecht was...less weird than the other people Pyro had suggested. There, he admitted it. What had happened to Vlad and Jacques wasn't their fault, of course, but they still made him feel a little uncomfortable. He sometimes wondered if Jacques was even really human any more...

You're friends with a robot and you have problems with humans who are a little different? That's pure hypocrisy, ain't it? He shook his head at his self-scolding, took the lift to another floor and then walked to Albrecht's combined infirmary and lab. He pushed the door open quietly.

"Hey dude." Scout said, looking up from a magazine with a yawn and a stretch.

"Ah, hello there, Rick, how're you doin'? Heard you were ill."

"I'm Bobby." He replied with a grin. "Not too bad. Fuckin' bored though."

"You gotta rest and get better."

"Rest, rest, rest." Bobby sighed. "I'm sick of rest. Nobody ever told me the worst thing 'bout bein' sick was the boredom."

"You could ask Albrecht if you could take a few walks or somethin'."

"Yeah, I'm gonna. But not right now." Bobby pointed, and Engineer looked over to a gurney. Medic Albrecht was flat on his back and snoring, one arm hanging loosely over the edge of the trolley. "S' my fault. I was coughin' shit up all last night after...uh, after bein' ill for so long, and I kept him awake."

"Ah...well, I won't disturb him." Dell said backing away quietly.

"Look closer." Bobby said, stifling a snorting laugh that turned into a cough.

Dell frowned in puzzlement and looked at the sleeping man. Mouth open, face slack...not exactly the most dignified sleeper ever, but he looked completely normal. One hand was folded over his chest, and his hand...ah. Ok. That wasn't quite so normal. Tiny Vlad was curled up on the man's torso, using the doctor's hand as a living duvet, his head poking out from under the thumb.

"Well, ain't that a thing." Engineer muttered.

"Kinda cute though." Bobby said with a grin.

"Nope, just weird." Dell stated. "Ah well, I'll try later. See you soon, string-bean."

"See ya, hardhat."

With a resigned sigh, Engineer realised this meant he would have to see Jacques instead. Ah well, it wasn't as if the octopus-man was going to, to eat him or anything. Would he? Come on, son, you're made of sterner stuff than this. He squared his shoulders and got into the lift to the ground floor. On the way, the elevator stopped and Sniper Lawrence stepped in, his wetsuit creaking and filling the room with the smell of old seaweed. Dell cleared his throat slightly and moved away as politely as he could.

"Hey, there," He said, relieved to have some company. "You off to see your fishy friend?"

"Octopus, not fish. But yeah." Sniper replied easily. He gestured at his harpoon. "M'off to get some fish for him."

"I'm sure he can catch his own fish, y'know."

"Yeah, normally." Sniper shrugged, his wetsuit rustling. "He's bin a bit crook recently though, so I'm helpin' out. He likes slippery dick."

"Uh..." Dell cleared his throat and pulled at his collar awkwardly with a weak laugh. "Not sure that's somethin' I needed to know."

"It's a fish, ya dirty wanker." Sniper explained with a grin and a snort. "I reckon it's called that 'cos it's a proper little sod to catch. Halichoeres bivittatus."

"So, he's sick?" Engineer said, changing the subject quickly.

"Yeah." Sniper replied, his high forehead wrinkling with worry lines. "Stupid tosser won't go an' see the Doc about it. Doesn't seem to get any worse, but doesn't get any better either."

"Huh. That's not good. Can't say I blame him, mind. Not sure I'd dare go near a doc 'less I was dyin', after what he's been through. Anyway, I was on my way to see him, assuming I could even find him."

"He tends to come in from the reef at this time o'day. I asked him to monitor fish numbers fer me, so let's go an' see him before I go off shooting dicks."

Dell blinked, telling himself sternly that he was more mature than this, and simply nodded. They continued down to the ground floor of the Institute and out towards Jacques' favourite beach.

"I used to chum the water to get his attention," Sniper explained as they crunched across the pebbles, "But with him bein' so queasy, the last time I did that he chundered all over my feet. Anyway, I'll just holler."

The tall man walked down to the water's edge. "Oi, haddock-breath! You got visitors. Get your ugly mug up 'ere!" He knelt down and sloshed the water with his fingers. It seemed to Dell that he was using a specific rhythm to summon his friend. Sure enough, after a few moments, the water stirred and Jacques surfaced with a toothy smile. Dell shuddered at the sight of those translucent, sharp teeth and the dimly glowing yellow eyes.

"Filthy jar-man. Labourer." Jacques said, nodding to them each, and then yawning. "Not often I ssee you here."

"You know how it is, always busy, always things to do." Dell explained.

"How're you doin' today, mate?" Lawrence asked earnestly, kneeling cross-legged by the water.

"Very tired, but the naussea issn't as bad today." Jacques said with an idle shrug. "Incidently, your ssuit ssstinks of rotting sseaweed. Get it wasshed."

"It's in the bloody water every day! Why would I..."

"To what do we owe the pleassure, Engineer?" Jacques said, turning to Dell with a ripple of water.

"I came to ask you somethin'." Dell admitted, scratching his bald head. "You see a lot of Scoutbot, don't ya?"

"Oui." Jacques gave a slow blink. "He iss a good friend."

"He's bin' acting real strange recently, and I'm gettin' worried 'bout him. Stealing things from my workshop, pickin' fights, keeping to himself. All kinds o' furtive, you know." He explained. "I was wondering if he'd talked to you at all about it."

"Hmm." Jacques said thoughtfully, picking up a pebble and fiddling with it idly. "I know of nothing in particular that iss troubling him, if that iss your quesstion. Perhaps he has been a little..disstracted lately. Lawrence, have you noticed anything?" A tentacle slipped out of the water and poked Sniper's knee.

Sniper shifted slightly, moving his weight from one leg to the other as he thought. " Last time we played cards, he was proper toey, not himself. But hell, we're all a bit bloody weird here, right?" Jacques snorted in agreement and then looked back at Dell.

"He losst the game, as he alwaysss doess." Jacques said with a grin.

"Dag nab it." Dell said with a sigh. "I was hopin' you fellas would cast some light on the situation."

"He iss a ssstranger in a sstrange land, labourer. It takess time to adjusst. You must treat him fairly."

"Nah, he's just bein' a bloody brat." Sniper Lawrence said firmly. Jacques rolled his eyes tiredly.

"Yeah...well, thanks fellas." Engineer murmured with a nod. "Y'all, you've been a help. I'll leave you to get on with those slippery dicks of yours." He paused, swallowed, and finally shrugged awkwardly and waved before walking away. Just as he got out of earshot, he heard Jacques' hissing voice:

"What did he just ssay?"

He trudged back up the beach, his mind whirling. So, Jacques hadn't seen anything, and he and the robot were close. However, Jacques was a Spy- could he have been lying? Normally Dell had no problem reading people's emotions, but it was a lot more difficult when the person was half-cephalopod. No...why would he lie? He had nothing to gain from it, surely? They did confirm that Scoutbot was acting oddly. Added together with the rest of his recent behaviour, that meant...

Dell opened the door and realised his flesh and blood hand was trembling slightly. Huh, better eat something before I get hypoglycaemic again. Damned diabetes. He walked over to the lift and punched the floor number for the mess hall. As he travelled he gritted his teeth, trying to put off an unpleasant conclusion.

...that meant that Scoutbot was malfunctioning.

Goddammit. His robotic hand curled into a clenched fist. He knew what he had to do, and it'd be better to get it over with fast. He didn't want to; didn't want to do it at all, but what was he, other than a solver of practical problems?

In Chapter Thirteen: Eagle does some exploring and finds something that perhaps he shouldn't, and Scoutbot goes missing...