The four of us sat in strained silence as we stared at Doris' house down the street. We had driven here quickly after seeing the picture of the man Kowalski identified as Parker standing over Doris' unconscious body, claiming we had to come alone and unarmed or something bad would happen to her.

"So, what's the plan?" Kowalski asked as he swallowed a lump in his throat.

I exhaled. "We go in, figure out what's going on, and kick ass," I responded.

"That sounds like more of a goal than a plan," Private piped up from the backseat.

I shrugged. "We're short on time and resources," I responded. "Don't worry, if Dr. Blowhole is desperate enough to use his own sister as bait, then he's already lost."

The four of us walked down the sidewalk and up the steps to Doris' place. After ringing the doorbell, the man called Parker opened the door, immediately training a pistol on the four of us.

"Good choice," he said with a grin. He had tan skin and dark brown hair, a mustache-beard circling his mouth. We held up our hands as we filed into the home.

The foyer was short, the lights off. I could barely make out the cream walls with pictures hanging from them. We were led into a living room area.

"Excellent work, Parker," a familiar voice said from the shadows in the corner. A figure stepped into the faint moonlight coming from a window and we all scowled.

It was Blu.

Parker made us all sit on the couch that sat in the middle of the room.

"If this is about the surprise swim," I started with a sneer, "I was trying to wash that ridiculous blue dye out of your hair."

Blu laughed. "Make jokes, Skipper. I know that it's your way of hiding your fear."

"Why don't you tell us what all this is about?" I asked, changing the subject. "Why are you helping Dr. Blowhole?"

Parker casually leaned against the frame of the TV stand on the wall. "Eh, he's paying me," he said nonchalantly as he picked dirt from his nails with one hand, still training the pistol on us with the other.

"And we have a deal," Blu responded, "after I help Dr. Blowhole get to you all, he's going to help me wipe my records clean. Then I can continue campaigning for Senator of Delaware, and eventually the President of the United States!"

The four of us exchanged a glance. This chick was nuts.

"What have you done with Doris?" Kowalski asked.

Blu and Parker laughed.

"Chill, Kowalski," Parker said, looking over at him finally. "Doris doesn't even know what's going on. She's sleeping soundly upstairs after the sedative I gave her."

The four of us exchanged another glance. They'd fooled us into thinking they were going to hurt her just to lure us in, and we fell for it.

"I knew you four wouldn't be able to resist coming to her aid if you thought she was in trouble," Blu added.

"So what happens now?" I asked, growing impatient.

"Now . . ."

The voice from behind us caused us to turn. Dr. Blowhole moved forward on his hoverboard from a dark room, eyeing us down.

"Now, we bring you to my new lair so we can finish business," he said, cupping his hands together as he grinned at us deviously.

I crossed my arms. "And how exactly do you plan on doing th –"

Before my question could finish, I heard a sharp breath and Private called out as he reached for his neck. I was on one end of the couch, and he, the other. I watched in horror as I watched him slump backwards unconscious.

"Hey!" I exclaimed. "What did you do to him?!"

I heard the sound again and realized it was Parker, who used a blow dart to shoot small needles at my teammates. This time, Rico slumped backwards unconscious.

"Don't worry," Parker said as he loaded another dart, "they're just unconscious. For now."

He shot another at Kowalski, who fell unconscious.

"F-Francis?"

We all turned to the slurred voice coming from the stairs.

"Sis!" Dr. Blowhole exclaimed. "You're . . . awake." He finished the last word with a hard glare at Parker.

"Francis, what's going on here?" Doris asked as she rounded the couch in her gray silk pajamas. "I haven't seen you in years and here you are . . . hurting my friends?"

"That's not Francis, Doris," I answered. "Not anymore. He's the serial killer, Dr. Blowhole."

Doris stepped back a couple of times, then looked at Parker as if just now noticing him. "Parker?" she said in surprise. "No, this can't be –"

She was cut off as Parker spit another dart at her and she fell to the floor unconscious.

"Parker!" Dr. Blowhole chided. "You were supposed to give her enough to keep her out until morning!"

Parker rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry. It's not an exact science. Too much of this stuff could kill someone, and everyone takes to it differently."

Dr. Blowhole slapped his palm to his face. "All right," he growled. "Finish Skipper off and let's get going. We're going to have to bring my sister too to make sure she doesn't start blabbing."

Parker loaded another dart and the needle pricked my cheek. My world went black a few moments later.

— § —

A groan involuntarily escaped my throat as I came to. Whatever that stuff was that knocked us out, it was strong.

The strong scent of saltwater invaded my senses as I slowly woke up. My back pressed up against something cold, and there were binds on my wrists and ankles.

Finally, my eyes opened and a floor was beneath me. My head hung over my collarbone limply. Picking my head up and working the tightness from my neck, I realized my team and I were suspended by a metal wall by our wrists and ankles. None of them had come to yet.

I scanned the room. No one else was around at the moment. There was a long pool of water that started at the center of the room and stretched to the far wall. Various equipment and computers surrounded the room. At the top of the far wall, there was a huge window the length of the entire room and big enough to see the skyline in the distance. The moon was still in the sky, which meant we weren't out for more than maybe a few hours. It seemed to be no more than a couple of hours after midnight.

A door opened to my right and I let my head slump forward again, pretending to still be unconscious.

". . . promise that I will get you your money soon enough," Dr. Blowhole's voice was saying. "But technically our deal was that you'd help me put an end to the unit, and that hasn't happened just yet."

"That's because you're dragging your feet about it," Parker's irritated voice responded. "What are you waiting for? Put them out of their misery and let's get your show on the road."

"Patience, Parker. I want to see the life drain from their eyes. I can't very well do that while they're unconscious."

"And what about your sister? She's seen too much."

Dr. Blowhole sighed. "I'll deal with her later. She's incapable of ratting on me right now, and that's all that matters."

"Oh, look," Dr. Blowhole's voice said after a moment of silence. "He's waking up."

Private's voice groaned to my left and I decided to keep pretending to be unconscious for now.

"Wakey-wakey, Private," Dr. Blowhole's voice sang, followed by a few slapping sounds. My muscles tensed as I realized he was slapping his face, and the thought of that fiend touching him made my blood boil.

"My friends call me Private," Private snapped groggily. "My family calls me James. You're neither."

You tell him, Private, I thought.

An unexpected snap right in front of my face made me flinch.

"This one's awake," Parker said in front of me.

I glared at him as he folded his arms with a satisfied smile.

"Good morning, sunshine," he taunted.

"What, no bacon?" I spat back.

Parker ignored the comment and turned his head to watch the rest of my team come to. Kowalski and Rico groaned as they awoke.

"Hello," Dr. Blowhole cooed, moving his hoverboard back and forth in front of us with a grin. "I'm glad you all could join us."

"What are we doing here?" I demanded.

Dr. Blowhole cackled. "I'm so glad you asked," he answered, hitting a button on a remote. A television screen dropped down from the ceiling and flickered to life, showing an image of the Earth from space. "For far too long, the human race has been a cancer to this planet. The suffering of humans and animals alike have been mocked, ignored, or even used for entertainment."

Slides moved across the screen showing various images of humans suffering all around the world, and screenshots of news articles depicting legislation that would help alleviate some of this suffering that never passed.

"My former boss, Dr. Octavius Brine, wasn't ambitious enough. He wanted humanity to suffer. He just wanted to level the playing field. He wanted humanity to feel the pain he had felt. But me, oh no. I dream much bigger. It's time we brought the human race's current existence to an end. The Earth has no need for those humans anymore. Life must continue without them," Dr. Blowhole continued.

I swallowed hard, not liking where this was headed. I looked at my team from the corner of my eye for a moment, and they seemed to match my sentiments. However, none of us could form the words to respond to what Dr. Blowhole was suggesting.

"Speechless," Dr. Blowhole said with a sigh, "I like that. Anyways, you will have front row seats to the end of the world."

I set my jaw, finally finding the courage to speak. "You realize you're one of the idiots that lives on this planet, right?"

Dr. Blowhole cackled. "Oh, Skipper," he taunted, "I'm fully aware of that. But you haven't even asked me how I plan to do it yet."

He watched me expectantly, and I rolled my eyes. "How?" I relented.

Dr. Blowhole chuckled softly, gradually raising his volume until he was fully cackling again. "I'm so glad you asked!"

He hit a button on his remote again, and the television screen changed. It showed an image of a large vessel that looked like a thin rocketship, orbiting the Earth.

"Meet Project Tsunami," Dr. Blowhole said, moving to where he was standing next to us. "This beautiful piece of machinery will crash land into the Pacific Ocean, where it will cause massive tsunamis due to water displacement, effectively drowning the entire human race."

He erupted into laughter again, but stopped when he realized Kowalski was laughing with him.

"That's ridiculous," Kowalski responded. "The amount of force it would take to displace that much water wouldn't be possible with one measly missile."

Dr. Blowhole chuckled low as he moved closer to Kowalski until he was face to face with him. "Oh, how cute. You thought I only made one?"

The screen shifted again, zooming out to show hundreds of Dr. Blowhole's missiles, hovering just outside Earth's atmosphere. My blood ran cold as I imagined the destruction they could cause, and I didn't imagine my team felt much different.

"Yakkity yak yak yak," Parker said with a roll of his eyes. He pushed off the wall he was leaning on off to my right and strode toward us. I had forgotten he was there. "Can we get on with paying me and your doomsday plans?"

"Patience, Parker," Dr. Blowhole said, moving to his side. "All in due time."

"You realize you're going to die too, right?" I asked. "Money is not gonna do you much good."

"The Doc and I have that covered," Parker answered, folding his arms. "We've calculated that it will take approximately two and a half years for the ocean water to drain back where it belongs. We have enough resources to last until then, and then we'll continue to build up our own community from there."

"Well," I said as I looked between them, "I hate to burst your bubble, but you're both male."

Parker and Dr. Blowhole chuckled.

"You haven't figured it out yet, I see," Dr. Blowhole said, coming closer to me until his face was inches from mine. "I thought you were smarter than that."

"Why don't you enlighten me, Doctor," I spat.

Dr. Blowhole simply snapped his fingers. My team and I stared in horror as two doors opened, one on either side of the room. Dozens of red-haired men entered the room – a few dozen at least – all completely identical to each other.

"You see, Skipper," Dr. Blowhole said as he started moving about the grinning men, "I managed to save some of my colleague, Dr. Brine's, work on genetics. Using some of the DNA from a hair sample from him, I managed to create the world's first human clones to create my army of henchmen to do my bidding. I've even perfected it enough to lack a need for surrogate mothers. I can create a fully grown man in a matter of days. Isn't that fascinating?"

I studied the henchmen closer and I chided myself for not seeing it before. While the henchmen didn't look exactly like Dave, they had a lot of similar features, including his signature red hair. I exchanged a glance with my men as we absorbed the information.

"Gentlemen," Dr. Blowhole said, addressing the henchmen, "begin getting Project Tsunami in position. I plan on starting our attack at precisely 0700."

"Doc," Parker said impatiently, "my money? I wanna buy some expensive shit before all the good stuff gets ruined in the flood."

Dr. Blowhole sighed and turned to one of the henchmen. "Red One, get me my checkbook."

Red One hurried off.

"And you're just going to leave them there?" Parker said, regarding us. "Why not just kill them and get them out of the way."

Dr. Blowhole glared at us for a moment, then turned back to Parker. "I want them to feel as much pain as possible until they ultimately drown along with the rest of the dullard humans. Don't worry about them, they're about as much of a flight risk as a flock of pen-gu-ins," he said, accentuating the syllables of the word "penguins" unnaturally.

They turned and left with the rest of the henchmen to presumably get things in position for Project Tsunami. I exchanged another glance with my team.

We had mere hours to save the whole world.

And we were hanging off a wall like a bunch of sitting ducks.

— § —

"Skipper."

I turned my head toward Private's hushed voice, who was hanging immediately to my left. We'd hung in silence for at least half an hour since the henchmen had set to work carrying out Dr. Blowhole's plans.

"Yes, Private?" I whispered back.

"I think I have a plan to get out of here," Private responded, eyeing the henchmen across the room to make sure they couldn't hear us.

"Follow my lead," he whispered back.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke again, and I stood stunned for a few seconds at his tone.

"Ha, some leader you are," Private started, raising his voice loud enough to fill the large room we were in which caused it to echo off the high ceilings. "First you let Dr. Blowhole escape, and now you lead us right into his trap. Can't you get anything right?"

I stared bewilderedly for a moment before catching on. I met Kowalski's and Rico's eyes for a moment from the other side of Private, who stared in disbelief. I narrowed my eyes and played along.

"I've been leading this unit just fine for years until you showed up," I snapped back. From the corner of my eye, I noticed a couple of henchmen start glancing our way.

"Oh, so now it's somehow my fault you can't lead?" Private responded.

I rolled my eyes. "All I'm saying is we were doing just fine till you came in and started acting like you're cut out to be a detective."

"Oh, you're just jealous that I got further in cracking this case in a matter of days than you have in over five years!" Private shouted back, his voice rising.

"Anyone with two brain cells to rub together could crack a code on a sandwich bag," I shouted back, matching his volume.

"Oh, poppycock! You were lost without me!"

"See? This is what I'm talking about. Speak American and cut all this 'poppycock' business!"

"American isn't a language!"

"Hey!"

We turned our heads to face the henchman that had approached us.

"You two," he said in his thick, nasally Brooklyn accent, pointing at both of us, "knock it off!"

"Oh, and what are you gonna do about it?" I challenged. "What are you, the lead henchman?"

"Yeah!" the henchman fired back, stepping forward and poking me in the chest.

A small crowd had gathered behind him and one of them stepped forward, tapping the first one on the shoulder. "Um, who said you were the leader?" he asked. Their voices were nearly identical, save for some mild inflection and pitch differences.

The two henchmen faced each other. "I was made before you, that's who," the first one responded.

"Hey, I was made before either of you," another one chimed in.

Soon enough, all the henchmen were arguing with one another about who was made first, and whether that should even be the qualifier for who the lead henchman was. I looked over at Private, wondering how this was supposed to help us escape. He smiled at me and looked up at his hand, which held a paperclip.

After picking the lock for a couple of seconds, his hand fell free and he quickly freed the other hand as the henchmen continued to bicker, a few having engaged in a physical altercation. Kowalski, Rico, and I watched with a growing anticipation in our guts as Private frantically worked at the ankle restraints, worried that a henchman would notice before he could break free.

Once he was free, he quickly moved around the arguing henchmen until he made it to a control panel across the room. He hit one button which caused a laser to drop down from the ceiling and take aim at us. We tensed up and shook our heads violently at him. He hit another button and the wall that held us moved higher and tipped backwards until we were almost laying back horizontally. Then a saw appeared beneath each of our feet and started to grind upward.

"Wrong button! Wrong button!" we all screamed.

By now the henchmen had taken notice. I couldn't see them but I heard them start screaming at Private and their footsteps moving in his direction. Private must've hit the right button finally as the wall dropped back down and the saws disappeared, our restraints unlocking, allowing us to drop to the floor.

"Great work, Private!" I screamed as we sprinted toward the henchmen advancing on him, working the tightness from our shoulders. After a fight between us and the henchmen, we had laid them out unconscious.

I exchanged a high five with my team. "Great work, gentlemen. We are back in business. Now, let's save the world. Dr. Blowhole is set to end the human race in a few short hours. And if anyone's gonna save us, it's us. Move out, team!"