"Kowalski, options," I said as the four of us studied the controls that the henchmen were previously working at, who were now tied to each other along the wall, still unconscious.

Kowalski sat at one of the chairs in front of a monitor. "I just need to figure out what coding has been done to trigger the launch and undo it."

"Good," I responded. "You work on that, and the three of us will guard the doors."

There were two doors in the large room we were in – one on each side of the room. We needed to barricade them before Dr. Blowhole and his henchmen realized we were actively foiling his plans.

"Rico, got any tricks up your sleeve?" I asked him.

Rico smiled and pulled his shoes off, holding them up in each hand. "Kaboom?" he said with a crazy smile.

Private and I exchanged a glance.

"You rigged bombs into your shoes?" Private asked, taking a small step away from him.

I laughed. "Rico, let it be known that your insanity is a vital part of the success of this team."

Rico smiled and laughed menacingly. We ran toward one door to rig the first shoe and it burst open just as we reached it, causing us to instinctively go into combat position. We relaxed as soon as we realized it was Doris.

"Oh my gosh," she said breathlessly, "thank goodness. I managed to get away from some weird red-haired clones and I just started running. Where are we? What is this place?"

"No time to explain," I said, pulling her forward by the arm and kicking the door shut. "Rico!"

Rico yanked the aglets off the shoelaces of one shoe with his teeth and tossed the shoe at the door. We ran for cover and the walls collapsed in on the door when the low-grade explosive detonated. Heading to the other door, we stopped as the door slammed open. Dr. Blowhole came rolling in with half a dozen of his henchmen behind him.

"Attack!" Dr. Blowhole screamed.

"Go take cover with Kowalski!" I yelled over my shoulder to Doris.

I didn't turn to see if she listened and started fighting off the henchmen with Private and Rico. I started to realize one major flaw with Dr. Blowhole's henchmen. They didn't just look the same, they seemed to also be the same in skill. After fighting one off, I realized none of them had any variety in their skills or fighting styles. Once you learn how to fight one off, you know how to fight any of them off. It didn't take long for us to down all six of them, despite being outnumbered. When we finished, I realized Dr. Blowhole was nowhere to be found.

"Skipper!" Private called. He was pointing with his mouth agape and I followed his finger to see Dr. Blowhole holding a gun on Kowalski by the control panel, standing in front of Doris, who was cowered in the corner behind him.

"Rico, seal the door. Private, watch my six," I ordered as I started charging forward.

"Blowhole!" I screamed, coming to a stop at his side. He turned and pointed the gun at me.

"Stop right there!" he demanded. "Kowalski, keep working."

"Kowalski," I repeated, "don't listen to him, we've got this."

Blowhole turned the weapon back on Kowalski, pressing the barrel against his head. "Kowalski," he sang, "I'd hate to spatter that pretty brain of yours all over my computers."

I slowly raised my hands. "Blowhole, you hurt him and I swear to you, I will kill you with my bare hands," I threatened.

Blowhole cackled. "Skipper, you and I both know you aren't capable of cold blooded murder," he taunted.

"There's a first time for everything," I shot back.

"Do you really think you have what it takes to stop me?" Blowhole asked, his grip noticeably tightening around the weapon.

I shook my head with pursed lips. "No," I responded. Blowhole studied me carefully. I smiled. "But he does."

Just as the words left my mouth, Rico dropped down from above, having climbed up into the rafters while Private and I kept him distracted. He landed directly onto Blowhole, sending him forward on his hoverboard. I lunged for the gun as it dropped from his hand.

Private charged after Rico and Blowhole, and I went to Kowalski's side. "Kowalski, status."

Kowalski vigorously continued tapping at the computer. "I'm trying, Skipper, but I'm running out of time!"

I looked up at the digital clock on the wall. It was only twelve minutes until the missiles were scheduled to descend to Earth.

"Keep moving, man!" I ordered. "We'll keep Blowhole dis – AH!"

The collar of my shirt was suddenly yanked back and I found myself sprawled on my back on the floor with Blu standing over me.

"Oh, Skipper," she taunted as she towered over me. I propped myself up on my elbows, waiting for an opening. "Did you really think it was going to be this easy?"

"Oh, this?" I responded. "This is a piece of cake."

Blu laughed and flipped out a blade from the switchblade in her hand. "Then it's a good thing I brought something to cut it with."

Just as she stepped forward, I wrapped both of my legs around one of hers and pulled her down. The impact of her body hitting the floor sent the blade flying from her grasp. I jabbed my foot into her ribs which caused her to double into the fetal position while I started slithering forward for the knife. A hand grasped my ankle and dragged me back and Blu crawled over my back trying to get an advantage. I rolled over on top of her and jabbed my elbow into her stomach. I was just a couple feet from the knife now.

"I thought you said you wanted your record wiped!" I screamed, struggling against her as she tried to crawl after me. "You realize he's drowning everyone, right?"

Blu laughed. "So then will my record not be clean?"

Just as my hand was only a few more inches from the knife, Blu climbed on top of me again, which pushed my chest into the floor and restricted my breathing. Fingers closed around my throat from behind and I groaned in frustration. I flailed my arms back to try to get her off my ribcage but I couldn't reach her. Just as I started to see stars in my vision, Blu grunted and she fell off of me, slumping to my side. I shook the fuzziness from my vision and rolled over to see Doris standing over us.

"Are you okay?" she said before setting down the pipe she was holding and kneeling to my side.

I put my hand to my throat and coughed. "Yeah, thanks," I responded raspily. I reached behind me and grabbed the blade, then allowed Doris to help me to my feet.

Private and Rico had managed to hold Dr. Blowhole's arms behind his back and were walking him back to where Kowalski was working. The clock on the wall indicated that we only had about 6 minutes left now.

"Kowalski, talk to me!" I called as we gathered behind him.

"I've almost got it, Skipper!" he answered as he frantically typed away.

Before I had time to think, Blowhole ripped one of his arms free from Rico's grip and stabbed a small blade into his shoulder he had to have hidden in his coat. Rico faltered and stumbled to the side, gripping the wound in his shoulder. I rushed forward, but Blowhole gripped Private around the collarbone and pointed the bloodstained blade to his jugular, causing me to pause.

"Kowalski," Blowhole snapped. Private gripped Blowhole's arm and winced as the blade barely pierced the skin of his neck. Kowalski had already turned his head at the commotion. "Undo whatever you just did or I will end him."

Rico, Doris, and I surrounded him and he backed closer to the wall, Private stumbling backwards with him.

"Don't even think about it," Dr. Blowhole threatened. "You know the smallest incision will cause him to bleed out in minutes."

Rico gripped his bleeding shoulder, glaring at Blowhole. I raised my hands. "Listen, Blowhole, you're too late. Just cooperate and I'll plead your case to avoid the death penalty."

Blowhole cackled. "I've worked far too hard to get where I am now, Skipper. And you're not going to stop me. Kowalski, undo it now."

"No, Kowalski!" Private protested. "My life isn't worth the world!"

He croaked as Blowhole tightened his grip, restricting his breathing but still holding the blade dangerously close to his jugular. I stepped forward.

"Hey!" I snapped. "Take it easy." I looked over at Kowalski. "Make his missiles detonate on schedule."

Kowalski's jaw slacked. "But Skipper –!"

"No buts, Kowalski!" I interrupted. I held eye contact with him sternly. "I said . . . make his missiles detonate on schedule."

Kowalski looked from me to Blowhole, then nodded. I only hoped he understood what I was telling him to do.

"No," Private croaked, causing Blowhole to dig the blade into his skin a little more, causing a small amount of blood to start dripping from his neck. He hadn't severed his jugular yet though.

Kowalski sat back down and the only thing we could hear for the next couple of minutes was the clacking of keys and Private's labored breathing. Blowhole's one eye darted from me to Kowalski, beads of sweat forming on his forehead, making his bald head look shiny in the fluorescent light.

Finally, Kowalski stood.

"Okay," he told us. "It's done."

We all watched with bated breath as the clock ticked from 0658 to 0659. Blowhole's surround sound system made the lair vibrate with its booming voice.

Project Tsunami launch in sixty seconds.

A countdown timer appeared on the large computer screens and we all waited, watching it with horrified eyes. I met Kowalski's eyes for a moment and he nodded slowly at me, and I nodded back. The booming voice returned.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. Launch.

Above us through the big window, we could actually see dozens of little lights igniting in the barely lit sky. I glanced over at Blowhole who grinned wildly as he watched. He eagerly awaited the moment the missiles would explode in Earth's oceans, creating tsunamis big enough to flood the whole world.

Instead, in the sky, several explosions occurred in succession, so far away it almost looked like little grenades going off in the stratosphere. Blowhole's grin faded and his brow furrowed in confusion as he looked back down at Kowalski.

"You!" he screamed. "What did you do?!"

Kowalski smiled. "I did what I promised," he answered. "Your missiles have detonated on schedule."

"No!" Blowhole screamed. "You'll pay for this! Starting with him!"

"I don't think so!" I yelled as I grabbed his arm before he could plunge the blade into Private's neck. Private managed to wriggle free as I yanked Blowhole backward. My back slammed into a wall with Blowhole slamming into me. As we struggled, I looked down and saw a small button between his feet on the hoverboard. I stepped on it and the metal clamps that held his feet to the hoverboard opened. I pushed the hoverboard out from under his feet and Blowhole slumped against me, his legs limp.

"No!" Blowhole screamed as he struggled against me. By now, Rico, Kowalski, and Private were there to help me pull him off of me and restrain him. He wriggled back and forth against our grip but was powerless to escape without the hoverboard. Rico ripped off his own sleeves and used them to tie his hands behind his back. When he was subdued, angrily cursing us from the floor, I looked back at the boys.

"Great work, boys!" I commended as we started exchanging high fives.

Doris came up from behind and knelt down beside Blowhole. "Francis, let this be an official notice that you are never invited to Thanksgiving dinner ever again," she told him sternly. Then she stood and faced Kowalski. "Thank you for saving us all, Kowalski."

Kowalski turned beet red, and I didn't bother interjecting that it was technically a group effort that saved us all. He started tripping over his words for a moment but finally ended with, "All in a day's work," he said in a phony suave voice, putting his hand to his chest.

Doris giggled. "Well, I just want you to know that I've never seen you in action before. It was kind of . . . hot," she added.

I started scratching the back of my neck from the cringe and exchanged looks with Private and Rico. Before Kowalski could embarrass himself, I spoke up.

"All right," I started, "let's save this for later. Let's arrest Francis Felipo for good."

— § —

Rico had Blowhole slung over his shoulder, barely fazed by the pain of the stab wound that had thankfully missed any major arteries. Blowhole's henchmen were tied up waiting to be collected within his lair. As we approached the exit of the lair, we noticed in a window that we were in some kind of abandoned warehouse. At the entrance gate, we noticed a group of police and FBI vans forming a perimeter.

"How did they know we were here?" Private asked, the blood on his neck having dried since we started making our way out.

"I think I know," I said, pursing my lips as I noticed a van with the North Wind logo pulled up.

"They're a bit late," Kowalski observed.

I laughed. "Let's open the front door then, shall we?"

Making our way across the parking lot, it was clear Agent Classified was busy barking orders to everyone. He and his team were in full tactical gear with no doubt the latest tech. Several agents tried to get his attention and point us out to him as we drew closer, but he kept cutting them off.

"– and I swear, if anyone else tries to interrupt me, I will have your badge by noon!" Agent Classified was saying when we became in earshot.

"Well," I called loud enough for everyone to hear. The North Wind agents turned around with their mouths agape. "Look who's tardy to the party! I believe this –" I jabbed a thumb toward Blowhole still draped over Rico's shoulder – "is who you're looking for."

Rico dropped Blowhole to the ground and he landed with a grunt. Everyone watched the six of us speechlessly.

"But . . ." Agent Classified began. "How did you –?"

"Oh, it was easy, really," I responded, studying the dirt under my fingernails. "The real question is how did you find us?"

Classified shifted uncomfortably and straightened his posture. "Well, I may have put . . . tracking devices on all four of you."

I scoffed. "You low down, dirty dog," I said. "See what good that did you. The world would've ended already had we not taken matters into our own hands. Sometimes, Classified, technology just slows you down."

Classified shoved his tongue into his cheek and took a deep breath, stepping forward. "Well, then, let's make a proper arrest of this scoundrel."

"Hold on, now," I said, holding my hand up. He stopped in his tracks. "I think Private should be the one to do the honors."

Private looked at me and I smiled at him.

"But . . . sir," Private protested, "you all are the real cops. And you've been trying to catch him for six years. Shouldn't you make the arrest? It would be the highlight of your career."

I laughed and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Soldier, we never would have caught him without you. You're the one who found out his true identity. You're the one who helped us escape Coney Island alive. And you're the one who helped us escape capture inside his lair. That sounds like a real cop to me." I paused for a moment as we smiled at each other. "So, what do you say, Private? How do you feel about going down as the man who booked the infamous serial killer, Dr. Blowhole?"

Private smiled and stood at attention, raising his hand in salute. "It would be an honor, sir."

I saluted back. Proudly, I watched as Private began reading Dr. Blowhole his Miranda rights. I gave the North Wind a smug smile as they watched with their arms folded, jaws gritted shut. I fistbumped Kowalski and Rico before helping hoist Dr. Blowhole back up and over to a police car. A news van had appeared and got a front row shot of Private pushing Dr. Blowhole's head into the car.

"Well, boys," I said as the car drove off. Several other agents were marching into Blowhole's lair. "How about we let them do the clean up and blow this joint."

No objections were had as we made our way to an ambulance to get a ride to the hospital to treat our injuries. Doris wasn't injured so she asked a policeman to drive her home. I hadn't realized how tired I was until I was finally relaxed into a seat. A paramedic started with Rico's wound since his was the most serious as we all just sat in silence for a while, ignoring our sore muscles as the ambulance bumped along the highway.

"You saved my life, you know," Private said finally, breaking the silence. "When you stopped Blowhole before he slit my throat."

I looked over at him and smiled. "Call it even," I responded, nudging him.

Private smiled back, but frowned a moment later. "Your neck is bruising," he observed.

I breathed a sigh. "Yeah, that blue-haired freak almost had me," I admitted. "Thankfully, Doris managed to stop her. Hey, speaking of Doris." I leaned forward with a lopsided grin at Kowalski, who was sitting on the other side of Private. "What was that flirty-flirtatiousness I saw back there?"

Kowalski turned red again and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know," he said unconvincingly. Then he side-eyed us sheepishly. "You really think she was?"

"Kowalski," Private cut in, "even I could see that."

"Hey," Kowalski laughed, "you don't have room to talk with Nurse Shawna taking care of you."

Private whipped his head around to look at me. "You told him?!" he protested, smacking me in the arm.

I laughed. "What?" I argued. "It's not like you don't make it obvious you're smitten!"

Private was beet red now and slumped back in his seat with his arms crossed. Then he perked up. "What about you?" he asked. "You never got a chance to tell me about your lost love."

My smile faded and I looked at Kowalski and Rico, who turned to look at me immediately. I looked away.

"It was nothing," I responded. "It was a long time ago."

"Skipper," Kowalski's voice responded, "you aren't talking about –"

"No," I interrupted. "Drop it."

An awkward silence filled the ambulance. When I finally looked over at the boys, they were studying their hands or the floor. I exhaled.

"So did you ever text Shawna?" I asked, changing the subject.

Private smiled bashfully. "Yeah, before we left to save Doris. I never got to see if she responded."

The ambulance lurched to a stop and the back doors opened a moment later. I looked over at Private as we started to climb out.

"Well, today might be your lucky day," I suggested.

Private smiled back. "We arrested Dr. Blowhole. It's already lucky."