"Good morning, all."

I looked up from my desk, muscles tensed upon hearing his voice the next day. "Good morning, Agent Classified."

Classified walked into the room with his head held high. He wore a gray suit with matching gray bowtie, and his silver hair glistened in the fluorescent lights. Behind him entered Corporal Bearington, a large, tall Norwegian man with a gut that hung over his belt. His skin was pale as snow. He had no hair on his head save for his mustache and goatee. Then Dr. Eva filed in, a thin, tall, Russian woman with olive skin and silver pixie cut hair. Lastly, the short, stout man who couldn't be taller than 4'11" filed in, whom everyone called Short Fuse. He had a buzz cut and always wore an expression that made it seem like he was always angry. Why they all wore white suits I didn't know but it bothered me.

The North Wind and my team have not had the best relationship. I've only had to work with them one other time, and the personalities on our teams always clash. And Agent Classified is so damned arrogant it makes me want to puke. They thought they were superior because their department gets more funding for fancier equipment. I don't think any of that is necessary to be a good detective or agent.

"I was given the needed warrant from Captain Rockgut," Classified explained, holding up the piece of paper. "I hear we have a kidnapping to solve at Coney Island."

I stood from my desk. "Yes," I said through my teeth. I refused to meet his eye and cleared my throat. "My rookie vanished into thin air while we were chasing down a wanted con artist and thief."

Classified nodded. "I see. I'm so sorry to hear that," he said with a sigh, folding his arms. "I've never lost a member of my team, personally. That must feel awful."

I clenched my jaw as I looked at him, fighting the urge to punch him. It was just like him to rub salt into the wound.

"Well, we best get going," he said as he turned with his team. "Corporal, bring the jeep around."

When he left my muscles relaxed slightly as guilt washed over me. Private had gotten us further than we'd ever been in catching The Dolphin, and I was the reason he was missing. I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see Kowalski.

"Don't listen to him, Skipper," Kowalski insisted. "We're going to find him."

I sighed and pushed his hand away before grabbing my weapon, badge, and keys. "Let's go," I said as I walked out of our HQ.

Kowalski, Rico, Marlene, and myself climbed into my car and we headed to Coney Island behind North Wind. Manfredi and Johnson stayed behind to try to dig into Rhonda Wallrush's records, as well as Savio Conda's. I couldn't help but wonder if they were in on whatever game Blowhole has been playing for nearly six years.

When we arrived at Coney Island, the North Wind team had already set up a perimeter around the dolphin enclosure and the utility shack that was next to it. We flashed our badges at the police that helped maintain the perimeter and were let through.

"Kowalski, you collect samples," I ordered. "Rico, dig around for any trap doors or other secret hiding places. And don't go near Short Fuse, you know you'll only end up arguing with him again. Marlene, see what you can do about getting that CCTV footage."

My team set off to carry out my orders. I found Classified inside the utility shack, studying the floors closely with some kind of device.

"Find anything?" I asked, crossing my arms and leaning against the door frame, which was still damaged from when I shot it.

"Not quite," Classified said with a sigh. "Everything appears to be sealed tight here. There's no way a trap door could exist here with all the tests I've run."

I stepped forward. "Your fancy gadgets won't tell you everything, you know."

Classified chuckled and looked up at me as he rose to his feet. "Now, Skipper, now's not the time for jealousy that our department is better funded than yours."

I clenched my jaw again, fighting to hold my tongue. "I'm just saying," I started through my teeth, "that sometimes you can find more with the naked eye than you can with your little doodads."

Classified stepped forward and clapped me on the shoulder, and I fought the urge to slap his hand away. "Well, then, you're welcome to keep poking around in here while my team and I do the real investigating."

He left the utility shack and I took a moment to strangle the air in front of me for a moment, pretending my fingers were around his neck. Then I sighed and knelt down, examining the floor as Classified was doing, but without the fancy equipment.

The floors were pretty solid. I knocked on the floor in different places. Nothing felt as if it were hollow on the other side. But it just didn't make sense. There had to be something that Rhonda and Private went through to have disappeared so quickly. It made no sense that they could've disappeared into thin air. I decided to go have another talk with Savio.

I found a park employee and tapped her on the shoulder. "Excuse me."

The woman turned around and smiled at me. "Yes, sir?" she asked. Her name tag said Lulu, and her accent sounded like Private's which sent another pang of guilt into me.

"Do you know where Savio Conda is?" I asked, showing her my badge.

She seemed surprised by the question. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir. Mr. Conda is on vacation right now. He hasn't been in for a week."

My brow furrowed. "I'm sorry, that's incorrect. I just spoke with him yesterday," I told her.

Lulu shrugged. "Well, as far as I'm aware, he's still on vacation. I'm sorry for the confusion."

I stood there, dumbfounded. How could he have been on vacation if we'd just spoken to him yesterday? I then remembered the attendant that had helped me find Savio the day prior, her name tag had read Blu.

"Where is the park attendant that goes by Blu?" I asked.

Lulu frowned. "We don't have anyone who works here who goes by that name," she answered.

I folded my arms and narrowed my eyes at her. "What is this?" I asked in an accusing tone. They were hiding something here.

"I'm not quite sure I know what you mean, detective," Lulu answered with her brows furrowed.

My gut was telling me that perhaps she might be innocent in all this, but I wasn't going to let her off the hook just yet. I stepped closer to her so that our faces were right next to each other.

"Listen here," I said in a low growl, "I know some kind of whacked-out conspiracy is going down at this aquarium, and I'm not resting until I figure out what it is. Don't leave town."

I turned on my heel without letting her respond and stomped my way back toward the crime scene. Marlene met me at the side of the shack.

"Skipper," she called to me, her expression serious. "Look at this. I have a copy on a hard drive for us to analyze back at HQ."

She held her phone up to show a recording she took of the CCTV footage. On it showed the moment that Rhonda ran into the utility shack, the three of us hot on her tail. Private rounded the shack and saw the window. He pushed it open and jumped into it. However, after he'd gotten in to his waist, he was suddenly jerked inside with force, as if someone had pulled him in. Just a few seconds later, we walked into the shack after I'd blown the door open.

"Is there any footage from inside?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"No," Marlene said with a sneer. "No cameras inside the shack, and none with a better angle through the window. What did you find out?"

I sighed and put a hand to my temple. "I spoke with another park attendant. She claims that to her knowledge Savio has been on vacation for a week, and she also claims that the attendant that brought us to Savio, Blu, doesn't even work here."

Marlene crossed her arms and shifted her weight onto one leg as she studied the ground. "This just keeps getting weirder and weirder."

We showed the footage to Classified and he shared our sentiments that there was definitely something shady happening here on Coney Island. Marlene, Classified, and I walked over to where Kowalski and Eva were discussing their findings inside the shack. I hoped they were getting along well. Kowalski actually attempted to get over Doris by going out with Eva a few times, but obviously that didn't work out. They thankfully ended things on okay terms.

"Kowalski, analysis," I said as we approached them.

"Well," Kowalski started, "we did find traces of something on the floor here, but we aren't sure what it is yet. I'll have to analyze it further in my lab."

"And Eva?" Classified broke in. "What have you found?"

Eva moved around with a device in her hand that had waving lines on its screen like TV static. "Energy readings are slightly higher here than in other areas of the park. This means that, for some reason, this room is drawing more electricity for something."

I scanned the room with my eyes narrowed. None of this was making any sense.

"Excellent findings, Eva," Classified commended, and I ignored that he didn't commend Kowalski for his findings. "Let's get all this information back to the precinct for further analysis."

"I concur," I said bitterly as we all followed him back to the parking lot. North Wind got in their jeep and my team and I climbed into my car.

I crossed my arms. "Am I the only one getting annoyed at how confusing this all is?"

"Uh-uh," Rico grunted, sharing my sentiments.

Kowalski held a clear container in his lap containing test tubes with various samples in it. "No, I think we all are, Skipper," he said.

"Yeah," Marlene said, studying the dashboard. "I just hope Private is okay."

I put the car in gear and started heading us back to the precinct. "Me too."

— § —

Marlene and I walked into Kowalski's lab. He'd texted me that he had some results about some of the samples he collected.

"What's the news, Kowalski?" I asked as we entered.

Kowalski was sitting at a table with his microscope in front of him, staring at a paper while leaning to the side, his other hand over his mouth as he stared in deep concentration.

"Kowalski?" I inquired as we stopped in front of his desk.

Finally, he looked up at us. "It's the strangest thing," he said breathlessly.

"What did you find?" Marlene asked, leaning forward on the desk by her hands.

"One of the samples from the shack brought back results matching that of hydraulic oil," Kowalski explained.

"Hydraulic oil?" I repeated. "Why would that be in the shack?"

"I don't know," Kowalski said with a shrug. "There's nothing in the shack or Coney Island that requires hydraulic oil to function to my knowledge."

There was a moment of silence while we all tried to think of anything that hydraulic oil could be used for.

"That's not all," Kowalski piped up.

"What else did you find?" I asked.

Kowalski's face went serious. "One of the samples I brought back was a small thread. I assumed it was going to belong to one of the park attendants, but figured it couldn't hurt to make sure. You'll never guess who it belongs to."

I exchanged a glance with Marlene.

"Who?" Marlene asked.

"Jessica Timbers," Kowalski answered.

My eyes widened and I looked at Marlene, who seemed to share the sentiment.

"You mean," I started, suddenly feeling as though I needed to sit down, "that our victim was there? Are you absolutely sure, Kowalski?"

Kowalski nodded. "The fiber matches the clothes she was found in, in both color and fabric type. In addition, traces of her DNA were still on it."

I crossed my arms and put my hand over my mouth. How was the victim in the utility shack? She didn't even work there. The more we learned about this case, the less sense it made.

"What are we going to do now?" Marlene asked.

I inhaled deeply and ran my fingers through my hair. "I don't know," I said. "There has to be something at that utility shack that we're missing."

"I just hope James is okay," Marlene said. "He's been missing for twenty-four hours now. The first forty-eight are the most crucial in finding someone alive."

I studied the floor, my heart sinking. I just couldn't believe that he would be killed. He was just a boy. He had barely been able to live his dream of delivering justice in the wake of his parents' murder. It couldn't end here for him.

"I need to think," I said as I turned on my heel and left, not waiting for a response. I went to my car and sat down in the driver's seat. I wasn't planning on going anywhere yet, but I needed time to myself.

I leaned my head on my fist, my elbow propped on the windowsill. It was late afternoon now and traffic was starting to become heavy with everyone heading home from work. I stared at my steering wheel, feeling increasingly frustrated. There had to be something we were missing.

I pulled my phone out and opened the video Marlene sent me of the security footage of Private being pulled into the shack. I watched it several times. He was just ripped away in a flash. Gone without a trace.

The more I watched it the more I realized something didn't make sense. Looking at it closer, I realized something strange. The moment Private was pulled into the shack, his legs should have shot upward as he was pulled down from the high window. But they didn't. His legs angled downward as he was pulled in.

That meant . . . he was pulled up from the window.

But Rhonda wasn't that much taller than Private. She couldn't have been able to pull Private from the window so high that it would've caused his legs to be pulled in from such an odd angle. Feeling something strong in my gut, I crunk my car up and threw it in gear.

I had to go back to Coney Island.

— § —

Coney Island was closed at this hour. It was around 1900 when I returned, solo. It was empty aside from the animals in their enclosures, and eerily quiet.

Since no one was around, I needed to sneak in. I scaled the front gate and climbed over, dropping soundlessly to the ground. It took a few minutes to sneak through the aquarium, and when I got close to the dolphin enclosure, which still had police tape set up surrounding it, I drew my weapon at the ready, pointing it at the ground as I moved around toward the utility shack.

I pushed the door open with my gun, carefully scanning the small room. It looked the same as we'd left it earlier. I checked over my shoulder to make sure no one was around, then pushed into the shack, holstering my gun again.

When we'd searched the shack earlier, I remember we focused mainly on the floor and all the boxes of cleaning supplies and tools around the shack. I wondered if we'd been looking in the wrong places.

I looked up at the ceiling, using the flashlight on my cell to get a better picture. There wasn't anything up there that seemed out of place. It was made of wood, just like the rest of the shack. There was a ladder propped up against the wall, so I grabbed it and positioned it in front of the window. After carefully climbing up, I took a deep breath as I reached my hand out to the ceiling. It didn't feel any different from the rest of the shack.

"Ow," I said as I caught a splinter in my finger. I picked it out and tossed it to the floor, then turned back to the ceiling. Balling my hand into a fist, I gave the ceiling a gentle knock.

A small gasp escaped my throat. Despite the wooden ceiling, my knock had a metallic quality to it. I knocked again, a little harder this time. Not only was it metallic, I could hear a hollow echo beyond it.

The trap door was up, not down.

I quickly descended the ladder and dialed Marlene's number.

"Ski –?"

"Marlene," I interrupted, "no time to explain. Get a team to Coney Island immediately. I know how Private got kidnapped."

I hung up before she could respond, then returned the ladder to the wall. Rhonda didn't have time to get a ladder to get to the ceiling . . .

"How did they get up there so fast?" I asked myself quietly, while I studied the room.

A shadow appeared on the wall across from the door and I whipped around, my hand gripping my weapon from its holster and pointing it at her.

"Blu," I said upon seeing the face of the woman at the door. She held out a small remote.

"You ask a good question, Skipper," she said in her southern drawl. "You want to find out?"

My brow furrowed for a moment, but before I could say anything, she pressed a button on the remote and a square cut into the floor beneath me sprung upward, thrusting me into the ceiling just as it opened up to reveal the hatch above. I lost my balance as the floor stopped abruptly, causing me to fall over and tumble down a small staircase, my weapon flying from my hand. Thankfully the staircase wasn't that long and as I lay on the landing. I felt bruised but didn't feel anything had broken.

After getting my bearings and trying to ignore the aches where the corners of the stairs jabbed my body, I pushed myself up by my elbow and was met with two pairs of boots. I swallowed and slowly looked up to see two men standing over me, grinning, each with fiery red hair. I was a bit unnerved at how similar they looked, like twins. In addition, they looked eerily familiar, though I couldn't put my finger on how. And they were pointing guns at me.

"Oops," I said with a nervous laugh, "this isn't the bathroom."

The two men exchanged a glance, then looked back down at me.

"Get up," one of them said, his voice gruff with a Brooklyn accent.

I slowly pushed myself up to my feet with my hands up, glancing down at my gun, which was several feet away in front of a glass wall. Dolphins swam about in the dark water beyond it. I realized we were behind the dolphin tank.

They each grabbed one of my arms and shoved me forward, prodding me with their guns as I stumbled forward through a dark hallway, a metal wall to my right and the tank to my left. We reached a door in the metal wall to the right and one of the red-haired men opened it, shoving me through it. When I walked in, I gasped at the sight before me.

In a cage meant for animals, Private sat in the corner with his knees drawn to his chest. His clothes were ripped and his hair unkempt. He looked up when we entered the room and he crawled forward and gripped the bars of the cage.

"Skipper!" he croaked.

"It's all right, Private," I said, looking at him with my arms still raised. "I'm gonna get you out of here."

"Is that so?"

I turned to the sultry voice to my right, a voice that sent shivers down my spine. A silhouette outlined the shadows of the dimly lit room. He moved forward and my eyes widened at the sight. He was a bald man, and had to be around seven feet tall, so I had to crane my neck up to look at his face. His face . . . it was clearly disfigured on the right side, and he had some kind of device wrapped around his head and stopped at the eye on the disfigured side, a deep scar running diagonally across his face underneath it. The device on his eye almost looked like something you'd see in a sci-fi movie. His skin was extremely pale and sickly, like he barely saw any sun. His legs were secured to what looked like a custom hoverboard.

I recognized the non-disfigured side of his face as that of Francis Felipo, just as Private had predicted. All this time, he was here, and no one ever knew about it. Committing unspeakable atrocities.

He stopped in front of me and I kept my gaze on his eye, trying not to show how terrified I was. I wanted to catch him, but he had caught me.

"I know," he cooed, "take it all in. You've finally found me, Skipper."

"Francis Felipo," I responded.

He rolled his eyes. "I prefer Dr. Blowhole, commands a little more respect. The infamous Dr. Blowhole. Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

I didn't respond.

"What's the matter?" he said as he started moving around me. "Cat got your tongue?"

I glared at him as he moved back around to the front side of me. "What's with the hoverboard?" I asked in a taunting voice. I couldn't let him know he got to me. "Even serial killers like playing with kid's toys?"

Dr. Blowhole laughed and I had to restrain my surprise for how similarly his laugh sounded like a dolphin's cackle. How long had he been down here?

"Oh, Skipper," Dr. Blowhole said as he leaned against Private's cage. "You think you're funny."

"I am funny," I responded, mustering up a smirk. Maybe if I could rile him up somehow I could distract him long enough to rescue Private and escape.

Dr. Blowhole studied me for a moment. "I knew it was a matter of time before you discovered who I am. The real question is, do you remember who I am?"

I was taken aback by the question. "All I know is that you're a serial killer that's hellbent on brutally murdering everyone who ever laughed at you."

Dr. Blowhole's expression hardened and he moved toward me. "Do you know how I got this way, Skipper?"

"All I know is that there was an accident," I answered. "I'm sorry that happened, and that people have been cruel and ableist toward you for it, but that's no excuse for what you're doing."

He reached up to touch my face, but I jerked my head back. He smiled again.

"Several years ago," he started, "when you booked a good friend of mine, Dr. Octavius 'David' Brine. You blew up his submarine. Guess who was in there?"

My eyes went wide. I wasn't aware that Dave had had any other employees. I thought we'd booked them all when we caught him and ended his mad science. He was an insane scientist who performed horrible experiments on human beings, causing several to become permanently disfigured, most of which were thankfully able to get reconstructive surgery to fix through government programs. That was the last mission I had been on with the North Wind, and together we arrested all of them and put an end to their horrible experiments. The submarine Dave had used to hide out and conduct experiments in was blown up in the process of arresting him. We were under the impression that the submarine was empty.

Apparently not.

"So . . . you blame me for your disfigurement?" I asked.

"Yes," he hissed, "and for my inability to walk. You and your team and special unit North Wind are fully responsible for what happened to me. And I suffered for it for years."

I didn't break eye contact. "I'm not sorry for what happened to your deranged boss. He was insane and deserved to go to prison. I am sorry that you were hurt in the process, but in my defense, if you hadn't been working with that horrible man, you wouldn't be where you are now."

Dr. Blowhole jerked forward and grabbed my face. I tried to pull away but his goons grabbed my arms to hold me in place.

"Listen here, Skipper," he hissed, saliva spitting from his mouth onto my face. "I have been waiting for this moment for a long time. And when I'm done with you and your team, I will continue making every single dullard human who ever laughed at me and forced me to do tricks pay for the way they treated me."

Finally, I jerked my head from his grip. "And what about Private? He has nothing to do with any of this. Let him go."

Dr. Blowhole laughed and turned to look at him. He was still kneeling in the cage, gripping the bars so tightly his knuckles were turning white. Then he turned back to me. "Well, unfortunately for him, he stuck his nose where it didn't belong. He knows too much. So I won't be able to let him go."

I struggled against the grip of the two men holding me back. "And what are you going to do with us then?" I growled.

Dr. Blowhole chuckled. "For the moment, you're both bait. I'm sure your team will be here to look for you soon. I'll soon have everyone I need to get my revenge. Then, I move on to bigger things after you've finished being useful to me." He turned to the men gripping my arms. "Put him in the cage."

I struggled against the two men as they pushed me forward. They quickly frisked me and removed my lighter, Swiss army knife, and cellphone as Dr. Blowhole opened the cage next to Private's. The two men threw me in, landing me on my face. The cage was shut before I could turn and try to get back out. Once it was locked, the three turned and walked toward another door on the far wall.

"Rhonda, keep an eye on the prisoners while we await our incoming guests."

From the corner in the shadows, Rhonda pushed herself from her leaning position on the wall and came to the center of the room in front of us, grabbing a metal chair and having a seat in it, watching us with an evil, lopsided smile.

I ignored her and looked at Private in the cage next to me as he crawled to the side of his cage that met mine.

"Skipper, I'm so sorry I got us into this," he said softly.

I sighed and leaned my head on a bar in the cage. "No, Private, I'm the Skipper. I got us into this."

There was a moment of silence and I ran my hand over my face. I had been in a lot of situations before, but I had no idea how to get us out of this one.