"The partially, nearly Naked Gun 3 : 'They Saved Crumpf's Brain'..."

Summary: Frank Drebbin is out of retirement and on the case when he learns the fanatical former president and loser candidate Fred Crumpf may not be quite as dead as he left him and he and/or his crazies including his family threaten the newly elected President Woodrowmina Wilson.

Of course, Nordberg is no longer on the squad because of, well, we never talk about that...

Part XXI...

Scene of devastation at the Barton Clinic, Venice Beach, California...

The van of the Department of Presidential Security, unlabeled as such, though with federal seal, destroyed, the fires of the van's fuel tank and set by shrapnel from the van just put out by the recently arrived fire department...The bodies of two team members and Dr. Barton being zipped into body bags by other Department personnel after brief negotiation with the newly arrived LAPD and FBI, personnel of each now, along with the fire department staff, combing the area. While the Presidential and Homeland Security personnel not securing the bodies, over some initial objection by the LAPD, were engaged in search the remains of the van for any of the removed files, hard or computer.

Unsuccessfully as yet, one reported to Director Bailey as she stood with Frank and Captain Hocken observing the scene ruefully. She moving to the stretchers on two of which the two surviving team members lay, with stretchers bearing several other persons severely or lightly wounded by the blast.

"Terry..." Director Bailey knelt by the young female team leader, seriously though not...Yet...Fatally injured. "Can you tell us anything?"

"An FBI...She claimed to be an agent...She pulled a gun on me, then there was an explosion. She shot me. I'm sorry, Director." Terry, wanly. An EMT eyeing the Director, clearly urging her to take it easily with the woman.

"All right, we'll talk later. You rest." Marjorie turned to the stretcher on which Jeremy lay...Less severely wounded but seriously. Blood on face and hands.

"Jeremy? Can you remember anything?" she asked.

"I was taking Barton out...There was a blast. I was knocked off my feet, I heard Barton screaming, and then when I came to...He was dead, beside me. But he'd been shot as well as hit by some shrapnel from the van. Willa and Daniels were dead..." he faltered.

"Ok, we'll talk more later." She patted him. Turning to the agent handling Barton's body bag. "I want to know the caliber of the bullets immediately." She eyed him.

"Yes, Director." Nod.

"Well 0 for 4 on the Nazi doctors..." she sighed to Frank and Ed. "Baker?" she called to the team leader, a thirtiesish man, leading the group combing the van's remains. "Anything?"

"Not yet, Director. Still looking." He replied.

"No sign of our phony FBI agent...?" she asked.

"Seems to have gotten clean away, unless she was vaporized." Baker noted. "And that's not likely. "Her id checked out but the real agent is still at the LA FBI office being interrogated and examined."

"Good." Marjorie nodded. "I doubt she had anything to do with this but lets not take chances."

"Not looking too good for hopes of finding anything." She sighed to Frank and Ed.

"They've been one step ahead of us all the way..." Hocken noted.

"Maybe two...Even three..." Frank noted. "It's pretty clear they knew we were going to a pay a call on their doctors."

"Yes...And I intend to find out how they knew." Marjorie nodded.

"Lucky guess is possible." Frank noted. "Though these killings have the hallmark of professionals. And the two you nailed at the hospital the other night were very professional."

"Hmm-hmmn." Marjorie nodded as she pressed phone. "Bailey here, what's the word on Dr. Goebbels-Banner?"

"You think that's it, Frank?" Ed asked Frank as Marjorie talked to phone.

"I know it's always easy to blame the Danes, Ed, but..."

"I was more wondering if we were done, given we're almost out of doctors. Certainly, the ones here in the LA area." Ed noted. "But..."

Marjorie looked over at the two. "Dr. Goebbels-Banner is our man. He did not have surgery this afternoon and he and our driver are missing. He's one of them, almost certainly and likely warned his people last night."

Ed and Frank eyed each other...

"Those Danish sons of bitches..." Frank frowned.

...

"You know what to do with the young lady..." Dr. Goebbels-Banner informed the tall angular man with the looks of horror film star Robert Englund...Minus the Freddy makeup, more in his role in "Zombie Strippers".

"Sure, doc." Smile. "Keep giving her injections, keep her here in the dorm with the other ladies. Tell her she's been working here for a coupla years and owes me dough and got slipped some bad stuff. Start her conditioning out slow at first. And increase the dosage if she starts to ask questions, or seems to recover." Nod. "When can I put her little money-maker bod on the floor?" questioning leer.

"Give her a day and more injections...By tomorrow she'll have the mind of a six-year old and be ready to do anything you ask."

"I love that part..." the man grinned lewdly. "Not that I ever...Doc." To Goebbels-Banner's look.

"Just, the girls you pass on to us are so good...Wish I could give this stuff to all my girls." Smile.

"Wouldn't be too good if the girls with families started acting like zombies, Trevor." Goebbels-Banner noted.

"I don't know...'Zombie strippers'? Sounds neat to me." Trevor noted.

"Till the families start asking questions and have to be...Dealt with."

"Oh...Right. Well, I prefer not to know about that, doc. Being a man of peace myself."

"Just keep the 'special' girls apart from the rest on a different weekly schedule and under the stuff and you won't." Goebbels-Banner noted.

"And be careful with this one." He eyed the unconscious young woman vague moaning on mattress in bed next to five others sleeping or vaguely looking around, all the others in lewd stripper outfits, handcuffed to the beds. Though showing no signs of resistance or struggle...One, a tall brunette, receiving an injection from a heavy-set fellow in 'Crumpf Rules and Will' t-shirt with beard.

"She's a trained agent. She may be a bit resistant to the drug and conditioning. Don't worry." He eyed Trevor's nervous face. "The drug is working, I'm sure of that. She just may need a little more time."

"And if she gives you trouble...You can terminate her." He noted.

"Doctor, man of peace here..."

"Just dose her up and call in my people, you have their number. But she'll be fine in a day. Just don't skip any injections..."

"No, sir, doc. We stick to the schedule." Trevor nodded.

"And condition her...Oh, I'd say...Three times a day for the first week, starting tomorrow. And send me reports on how she's doing, I want to monitor her progress."

Into a mindless stripper...Or maid, whatever we need...As part of the Master Plan...He thought. Once Dad is power behind Crumpf's throne we go big with this.

Hey, we're Nazi/fascist/KKK/nasty ahole billionaire bastards, it's what we do. You've seen the stories about Epstein, he eyes us.

"Hard to believe that one was a CEO a month ago." Trevor looked over to the tall brunette.

"She had too many questions about our medical supply requests." Goebbels-Banner noted with frown.

And she turned me down for a second date...Bitch. What, a handsome world-class neurologist with good German genes isn't good enough?

Could have been my collection of porn pictures of my patient victims...But she said she liked to go on the wild side...

"Well, I've a plane to catch..." Goebbels-Banner noted.

"Pity you can't stay for the show..." Trevor notes. "It's gonna be a humdinger tonight."

"Send me a video if you can." Goebbels-Banner noted. "Strictly for medical science, you understand."

...