Chapter 7:
Operation: Spotted Hound
The Jolly Roger
A few days later…
As soon as she got the message from one of her little birdies, she called for a meeting with the captain. He counter-demanded that it be on his ship. In fact, he insisted that unless their business required her "why-fly", or their pleasure necessitated her "sinfully expansive bed", they were not to confine themselves in her "monk's cell of a flat."
It was no skin off her nose to acquiesce, so she agreed and came prepared with the blueprints to the fortress that needed to be invaded.
"And why does this gossip-rag dispensary need so much security?" Killian asked in disbelief.
"All sorts of reasons. The equipment would fetch a pretty price if sold piecemeal. The chemicals used for the ink are valuable and can be used for less than benign purposes," she explained offhandedly, her attention focused on the conundrum before her.
Suzy, Perla's sister, had noticed that Foxworthy had visited the Daily Mirror's printing press facility after hours, when the publisher had gone home and had no need for his bookkeeping services. She had checked the records, and sure enough the newspaper had been bought by one Mr. Albert Spencer after Sydney Glass had been convicted of kidnapping. And Jefferson had confirmed that he had not only observed Foxworthy visiting unofficially, but also Harlequin.
It provided an ideal location for masking the barking and howling of an irate dog with the noise of the machines, and the chemicals would mask any canine scents, so even if a certain werewolf was up to tracking, she would not be able to detect poor Pongo.
But that didn't necessarily mean that it was the location. And if she gave a false tip, the least of their problems would be the loss of credibility that the 'Concerned Citizen' would have. So…
"We need to get in there. We need to know if that blasted pup is there or what it is exactly that they are doing there."
"I know, lass."
She continued as if he hadn't spoken, anxiously nibbling her lip, "But if I get caught – "
"You'll be no use to anyone when it really matters," he interrupted impatiently, "I know, Tawny."
A small part of her was comforted by the knowledge that he understood, but she was so vexed with the feeling of helplessness that all that she could see was 'The Problem.' Gesturing with frustration at the blueprints, she continued her diatribe, "And judging from this, it will take us weeks to get the equipment and the skill level to get past all this, which I highly doubt we have time for."
"And if I get caught, there goes my reputation which is what you value most about me," was his acerbic self-deprecating interjection.
She didn't know if it was because she was feeling defensive from his accusation or if it was because he had said it with such cavalier bitterness, almost as if he believed that his villainy was all he was good for, but for whatever reason, she found herself snapping with irritation, "It is not what I value most, but it does make you bloody damn useful."
An uncomfortable silence descended upon the cabin. Her unthinking assertion left her wide open to all sorts reactions from the pirate, from sexual innuendos to probing touchy-feely sorts of questions. She could handle the one. But the other? The other she wasn't quite ready to ponder just yet. So she waited with bated breath.
He broke it with a dry chuckle, lightly commenting, "As much as I would love to explore that remark further with you, lass, I shall resist and instead ask: who is your alternative?"
"My alternative?" She parroted in true bafflement.
Sighing in exasperation at her slowness, he replied, "Yes, Rule #4: Always have – "
"An ace up your sleeve, or at the very least a stiletto. Yes, I know." She cut in with impatience. A lesson she had taken to heart, but not sure as to how it applied to the current situation. Waving her hand again at the blueprints, she asked, "What does that have to do with – "
Killian silenced her with an annoyed stare, chiding, "Charmed as I am that you remember the variant verbatim, darling, I was going to say, 'Always have a backup.'" At her apologetic nod, his intense blue gaze morphed into a piercing challenge, as he pointedly queried, "Who is your backup for me? The someone who has nearly my skill and know-how, who can do your dirty work, but who perhaps no longer has the nefarious reputation that makes me your first choice?"
It amazed her how perceptive he was at times. She did indeed have such a person. But she didn't want to ask for his help because if something were to go horribly wrong and he were to – if the unthinkable were to happen, she would be responsible for breaking his wife's, her friend's heart.
But he was perfect for this, and if she was anything, she was practical, so she reluctantly blurted –
"Fitz Conroy."
"The bartender of the Rabbit Hole?" he asked incredulously.
"He used to be a jewel thief. That was how he met Giselle – Rapunzel. His real name is Eugene Fitzherbert, or something ridiculous like that, so he prefers his Cursed-handle. Anyways, when he was Cursed, he was the locksmith who also moonlighted as a bartender to cover his gambling debts," She explained with a shrug.
"'Used to be?' I take it this lass, your friend, reformed him?"
"Yes, which is why he can't be my inside man."
"Because he's 'reformed' or because he's your friend's husband?" was his soft but incisive query.
Again, with that damn perceptiveness.
At her pained expression, he patiently suggested, "Tawny, it couldn't hurt to consult him at the very least."
She stewed on that for a while; her protective instincts at war with her pragmatism. Her pained expression must have softened at one point, because he then pounced with a knowing leer, "And even if that is all he does, we could still have him be our fall guy for the good deed, so that my advantageous reputation stays intact."
She sighed in resignation. He had a fair point. The shrewd bastard.
"I'll call him."
~0~
Storybrooke Woods – August's Trailer
The next afternoon...
"Where did you get the Mirror's security specs?" Fitz asked absentmindedly as he peered at the documents she had posted all over the interior of the tiny dwelling.
"The insurance company... sort of," she answered nonchalantly. At their puzzled looks, she explained further, "Insurance companies require proof that businesses like the Mirror will protect big fancy equipment and chemicals like that."
"You hacked into an insurance company's system?" Fitz asked with raised eyebrows.
"Nah, I wish I had that sort of mad skills," she laughed wistfully. "But I did access Keith Reeves' email and downloaded the attachments that he sent to them, and I was only able to do that because I happen to know someone who knows where the former Nottingham sheriff and present security chief keeps his little black book of passwords."
Fitz grinned in understanding and looked impressed. That was the nice thing about having thieves and pirates as comrades. They didn't judge you when you made admissions like that.
"I'd be impressed too, lass, if I knew half of what you were saying," Killian half-quipped, half-complained.
Fitz looked as if he was going to try to explain, but she waved him off, "Let's save the techno-babble lesson for another day." When they both nodded in acquiescence, she tapped the plans and asked their security expert, "Can you get past these?"
"As long as they haven't updated anything," he assured confidently.
"From what Suzy was able to tell me, I gather the only change has been a few extra thug guards."
"Which is where I come in, I take it?" The pirate prompted, his eagerness for a fight slipping past his cool façade.
Resisting the urge to tell him 'Down, boy', she answered with amused patience, "Yes, if Fitz finds the dog, he'll need someone to distract the guards while he sneaks him out, and a pirate trying to raid the publisher's safe should do the trick."
The blighter made her wait. His dark head cocked to the side, carefully considering her and her plan, and acting as if didn't want to be more involved than he already was. She knew he did. She knew that he wanted to make those people who had hurt Milah's grandson pay. Finally, he agreed, saying "Alright, lass, but you'll owe me a favor."
"Aye," she agreed softly, fully recalling their bargain. She continued to hold his gaze, waiting for him to name the favor. He searched hers, looking for what, she did not know, but if it was evidence that she would renege on their deal, he had another thing coming.
Their stare down was clearly making Fitz uncomfortable, as she could see from out of the corner of her eye that he was nervously glancing back and forth between them. Eventually, he broke the silence by clearing his throat and stating, "Well, this is a good a time as any to mention my price, I think."
At his words, she and Killian swiveled in unison to focus their attention upon him. A lesser man might have been disconcerted by this, but Fitz stood his ground and asserted, "I want a solemn oath on something that you hold sacred that you won't tell Rapunzel that I have kept my hand in the business." Fixing his gaze on her, he gave a sheepish shrug, explaining, "My Cursed-self got bored and plotted how to break into several businesses, and I have sort of justified the continued fantasy scheming and self-education as being 'prepared' for days like this."
She let out a low laugh, "I am in no place to judge you, Fitz."
He bowed his dark head gratefully, but still insisted, "Nevertheless, that is my price."
"Upon my honor and me bonnie ship, I will not tell a soul." Captain Killian Jones solemnly swore, and then turned to look expectantly at her. She knew that he was waiting to see what she held as sacred as his honor and his vessel of freedom. He was always trying to see her.
Ignoring him as best she could, she focused on her friend's husband, dug down deep, and promised softly, "Upon my mother's grave, your secret is safe with me."
And with that, the energy changed in the room. Fitz rubbed his hands eagerly together and declared, "Well then, here's the plan."
~0~
The plan went off without a hitch. Well, depending on what one defines as a 'hitch'. Conroy went in and did his thing. Bypassed the 'electronic eyes' and alarms, snuck past the gorilla guards, and made it to the storage closet in the basement, which is where both Tawny and Fitz thought King George's goons were hiding the dog.
And this is where the 'non-hitch' comes in.
Reedy's 'them' turned out to be a litter of puppies – and their wolf mother.
Killian had to give credit where credit was due. The reformed thief came prepared and shot the she-wolf with a tranquilizer dart, and then sent Tawny an update via her mini portable phone. She then sent him in with instructions to make as 'much of a racket as possible' – which he gladly did and did splendidly. For it was one of his greatest pleasures to make king's men look like the arses they are.
While he was schooling the brawny brutes, Conroy had improvised a crate for the pups, hauled the limp wolf out on his shoulders, and led the domesticated canine out of the building and loaded them onto the waiting van 'commandeered' from one of Tawny's neighbors. He then drove it to the docks after taking a roundabout route to make sure he wasn't followed so that they could unload the beasties onto the Roger, where her captain would sail them beyond town lines and keep them until Swan had dealt with the Devil woman. No point in rescuing them only to have them stolen again, or so Tawny argued. The lass owed him big time.
They had just locked the beasties away in his hold and were now making their way to the deck, when Conroy handed him his tranquilizer gun and cartridges. When Killian went to accept them, the man held his gaze, casually but yet pointedly observing, "So Gwen is of the impression that you and I are a lot a like – beneath all the selfishness, and in your case, revenge-seeking tendencies is a good man."
"If you are wondering, mate, whether or not I am going to sail away with the little monsters to sell them for me own profit…"
Conroy shook his head, "No, no, rest assured I am confident that in this case you are going to be an honorable man. Why else enlist me to help maintain your scoundrel rep? A cause I fully support, by the way. For what else does a man have besides his fake reputation, eh?"
"The point of this conversation is?" He replied with bored disdain.
Undeterred the man declared, "The point is that I don't know if you are truly a reformed villain or just playing the part for some longer game. I don't know what Gwen is to you exactly, but I do know that she is my wife's friend and therefore important to me." He then leaned towards Killian and menacingly promised, "And if you hurt her in anyway, you hurt my wife; and if you hurt my wife, I hurt you, savvy?"
Killian didn't particularly appreciate being threatened on his own ship or having his intentions towards Tawny questioned, but he could be magnanimous on this one occasion, since it was done on his golden lass's behalf. So instead of snarling and establishing the pecking order, he spoke truthfully and with matching solemnity, "Aye. But I suspect if I ever hurt Gwen the She-devil, I will have more than you to fear."
He then let a slow sly grin spread across his face, noting, "And your wife is much scarier than you, mate."
"Too right," Conroy shuddered in horrified agreement, and then more thoughtfully, "How are you guys going to help the fair Swan take care of the De Vil woman?"
Killian's responding chuckle had an evil quality to it, he could not deny, as he assured, "Oh, the wily lass has a plan for that too."
~0~
Mayor's office
A week later…
"So what did Madame De Vil have to say for herself?" Belle asked Emma as soon as she shut the woman's office door.
Killian had 'bargained' his way down from being charged with attempted burglary to trespassing at the Mirror and being fined instead of imprisoned with the information that he had overheard the crazy old bat's henchmen gloat about recapturing Pongo from those who had stolen him from them in the first place – thieves who had been using the Dalmatian to blackmail the furrier.
When Emma had searched the woman's seaside cottage she found Pongo, much to the woman's astonishment. Her surprise hadn't been one of innocence, however, since in her shock she began demanding to know where the 'mottled mongrels' were.
Upon questioning, Cruella, Jasper, and Horace revealed that while she had been in Neverland, Pongo had escaped of his own freewill and had gotten friendly with a female wolf, who birthed a litter of speckled puppies, which they had discovered. This had given Cruella the idea to kidnap Pongo and a female wolf to breed them so that she could sell the new breed. She predicted that since Labridoodles and wolf-pups were all the rage, mottled wolf-pups would be a sensational hit. However, King George had gotten wind of the plot and stolen her ill-gotten stud to force her to fall in with his party line. As to what that was, she would not say. At least not unless…
"She'll talk, if we promise to drop all charges and let her quietly cross the town line."
Belle gazed back at her flabbergasted. "Wh-why? Why would someone willingly…?"
Emma shrugged, "She wants a fresh start. She was happy being Madame Sadique D'Enfer. She has opportunities out there that she doesn't feel she has if she were to return to the Enchanted Forest, whenever or if we ever get back there. And it has the advantage of being beyond King George's reach."
Belle shook her head sadly, "It just seems like we would be assisting her in committing suicide."
"That's one way to look at it." She shrugged again as she pointed out, "But if we don't drop the charges, she'll cross the town line anyways when state officials transport her to prison. This way we're giving her a second chance." She knew this was a bit manipulative. But she truly believed that De Vil had valuable information that she needed to get before King George silenced her.
Belle sighed morosely, "And we don't have the resources to keep her under lock and key indefinitely, do we?"
"And protected? No." Emma confirmed.
The mayor finally nodded, giving the go ahead with a quiet, "Make the deal."
~0~
Killian was overjoyed to see that Conroy's ugly mug as he came to transport the mongrels to the Animal Rescue Shelter. In the far and few silences between yaps, yips, and howls, he had plotted the perfect favor to call in. A punishment worthy of the crime, it was.
He was going to have Tawny clean out the Jolly Roger's shit-covered hold.
A/N: Questions, Comments, Concerns?
Oh, yeah, and not mine.