The Master of Sorrow
Chapter Five
"This is the only component missing from the Transporter." Jacob unrolled a blueprint of SHUSH's newest contraption and spread it across the desk. He pointed to the diagram of the small piece in question. "It's scheduled to be delivered to SHUSH after hours tonight via an unmarked delivery truck. Think you can intercept it?"
Negaduck arched a brow at him, as if he had just asked him the dumbest question in world. "Not that I'm looking for a way out of this plan to cause some havoc, but why don't you just get it at SHUSH yourself with your new 'access'?" The last word was dripping with cynicism.
"Because, boy, if you steal the missing piece, it puts the production of the Transporter on hold. This will give us the opportunity to use it for ourselves without someone noticing that it is missing from the lab," Jacob explained in a condescending voice as if he were trying to explain to a five-year old.
The villain sneered. "Gimme that," he said and snatched the blueprint to get a closer look at his intended prize. The only reason he put up with Jacob's snide attitude was because he'd soon be on his way back to the Negaverse. He had been longing for a way to return ever since Darkwing caused the portal to collapse. And when Jacob informed him of a potential way back, it seemed too good to be true, and Negaduck still had his doubts. He still didn't trust Jacob, and remained vigilante of any ulterior motive or double-cross.
And Negaduck knew how to deal with a double-crosser--a chainsaw to the kneecaps or a .357 slug to the head usually did the trick.
Negaduck looked out of the window to see the first of the city's lights beginning to flicker to life as the sun slowly descended the Saint Canard skyline. He turned his suspicious glower to the man who so closely resembled his own father. It took a tremendous amount of restrain to stop himself from wrapping his hands around Jacob's neck and strangling him.
"I'll get your stupid little component," he growled lowly. "Just as long as you bring me the Transporter."
The older mallard blinked, but then chuckled as he followed Negaduck out of the room. They soon entered a large garage-like hanger which housed all of the devious mallard's vehicles. There was the vicious looking jet plane, a heinous monster truck, and his fierce motorcycle among many others, all of which matched his poisonous tri-color scheme.
"You know, I'm sensing some major trust issues," Jacob remarked with a false tone of concern as he followed. He gave a melodramatic frown. "And if we don't work these issues out, I'm afraid this relationship is just not going to work."
Negaduck gnashed his teeth as he climbed onto the Troublemaker. "I trust no one. The only reason I'm doing this is because there's something in it for me." He paused briefly, then smirked as he exchanged his fedora for a red and black helmet. "And I never turn down the opportunity to cause a little mayhem."
"Just get that part, Negaduck," Jacob urged as he returned to being serious. "And I'll see to it that you return to your little playground."
Negaduck glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. He didn't offer him another word as he switched the bike's ignition and it roared to life like an angry lion. He gave it a few strong revs, then pulled on the gas, causing the tired to screech loudly against the concrete.
Jacob watched the motorcycle speed out of sight, a stoic expression on his slightly aged face. He tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the handle of his cane. It would take a lot of hard work to gain the villain's trust, which, he hated to admit, he needed in order to successfully reap his revenge against their common enemy. But he was confident he would prevail. Jacob Mallard knew how to get accomplices. And even thought the Public Enemy would be his biggest challenge to date, he knew it was not impossible. It would be a matter of time before he would form an alliance with Negaduck to finally take down the man who destroyed his life.
"Gosalyn! I told you to pick up this mess!" Drake shouted as he tripped over a hockey stick on his way into the living room. He glanced at the clock on the wall as he began to pick up a few of the scattered items himself. "Agent Mallard is going to be here any minute!"
He didn't know why he felt so anxious about Jake's impending arrival. He was finally going to get the answers he had longed for since his childhood. Answers about his father and his disappearance. But what if they weren't the answers he wanted to hear? What if the answers turned out to be worse than he had anticipated? What if--??
"Oh come on, Dad! What's the big deal?" Gosalyn argued from where she sat on the couch, engrossed in a game of Whiffle Boy. "Since when do you invite SHUSH agents over here, anyway? You hate those guys!"
Launchpad rubbed his cleft chin thoughtfully. "Gee, DW, Gos has a point. Is this regarding some case?" he asked, feeling a bit disappointed that he was potentially out of the loop.
"No, this is something…uh…personal!" Drake explained, his arms now piled high with soccer balls, rollerblades, and hockey pucks. He staggered and swayed, attempting to keep his balance.
Gosalyn stopped playing her video game to look in the direction of her father skeptically. Drake had been mum about the whole situation to both her and Launchpad. "Personal? Like what? And how come this guy has the same last name as us? IS he some relative you failed to mention?" she asked in an accusatory tone.
"Not really…" Drake muttered, barely audible. He had intentionally kept the details from his daughter and sidekick. He didn't want them asking questions when he himself didn't even have the answers. Drake's past was something that had always been kept hidden from his present life, and he hoped to keep it that way.
A wave of light suddenly passed over the living room through the window that faced the street. Drake turned his head just in time to see the headlights of the black sedan pull into the driveway.
"He's here!" Drake announced, almost fearfully. He dropped the armful of sports gear in top of Gosalyn. "Here! Put this away and Gos, please, stay out of trouble! Launchpad can keep you company!"
"But Dad, I wanna stick around! Maybe he has some good secret agent stories!"
Outside, parked in the driveway of the Mallard Household, Jake silently sat in his car for a moment. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he eyed the front door, then glanced to the passenger seat where a briefcase sat. Inside the briefcase were the tools he needed to persuade Drake that Jacob Mallard was nothing more and a selfish coward, and would pull the naïve vigilante onto his side forever. It was just one more thing that Jake could take away from his enemy.
He grabbed the briefcase and got out of the car, approaching the front door with a purpose in his step. He rang the doorbell.
"I don't want to hear another sound out of you for the rest of the night!" Drake's voice carried through the doorway as he shouted up at his daughter.
With a jiggle of the doorknob, the door swung open and Drake smiled cordially. "Agent Mallard, glad you could make it." He backed up a few steps to allow the agent to pass into the entryway before he closed the door.
"Please, call me Jake," he answered and stepped inside. As he was pulling off his coat, he tilted his head towards the ceiling when he heard the rhythmic stomping. "The old 'lock 'em in the bedroom' ploy?" he asked Drake with an amused smile.
"Uh...she's practicing for when she gets her drum set. You know...keeping rhythm?" He let Jake walk in front of him toward the dining room before he turned his head back up toward the second level. "AND IF SHE KNOWS WHAT'S GOOD FOR HER SHE'LL KNOCK IT OFF!!"
That did the trick...for the moment.
Jake followed him into the kitchen, his curiosity perked. "I was unaware that you have children."
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Gosalyn," Drake answered with a wave of his hand, "She's adopted. A great kid, really. But anything less than a handful at times. And stubborn to boot."
"Sounds like she's got a lot of spirit," Jake observed as the two mallard sat down at the kitchen table, across from one another. Instantly, he began thinking of how this new development could benefit him and his plans.
"Pah! 'A lot' would be an understatement!" Drake exclaimed, although the hint of pride in his voice was obvious. Then his eyes drifted to the briefcase that Jake had set on the table, and his expression turned sincere. "So…were you able to find anything?" he asked, somewhat hesitant.
"Well, Drake, I've got some good news and bad news," he answered as he opened the briefcase and began rifling through its contents. "The good news is that I spent the last half of the day pulling the useful information you requested."
A look of anticipated dread crossed Drake's face. "And the bad news?"
Jake looked up at him regretfully. "The bad news is that the information is...probably not what you'd want to hear."
He felt the breath he had been holding in slowly exhale out of him as the disappointment hit. "I figured as much."
Suddenly the back door leading into the kitchen burst open and Gosalyn barreled into the room, a large water gun in her hands.
"All right, stick 'em up! This is a jailbreak!" Gosalyn whooped, shooting her father straight in the face with a stream of water.
"Gosalyn!!" Drake gurgled, wiping the liquid from his face.
"Yes Dad?" the duckling said in a suddenly sugary-sweet tone of voice.
"Aren't you supposed to be in your ROOM?"
"Hey, there are laws against cruel and unusual punishment, Dad, and besides, you should know by now that locking me in won't keep ME in my room!"
Drake looked toward the ceiling with a "give me strength" expression.
Jake stifled a smirk as he watched. The young girl did have spirit. Normally, he hated that, especially in children. But he found himself a bit interested in this spunky red-headed child."So, this must be the Gosalyn Mallard I've heard about," he cut in, turning in his chair to face her.
"Yeah, what's it to ya?" Gosalyn retorted, turning to face Jake.
Drake cleared his throat warningly. "This is Daddy's guest for the evening, Agent Mallard, whom you will show some respect!"
"Pfft, yeah right," Gosalyn muttered under her breath. "How do you know my dad?" she asked Jake, unafraid.
Jake knew he had to play his cards right with Gosalyn. Already he could decipher that she was clever and fearless. It may prove to be more difficult to pull the wool over her eyes, but he was confident that he would be able to win the rambunctious 9-year old's approval as well.
"I guess you could say that I'm an…old friend of his father," Jake answered her, his voice taking on a more gentler and engaging tone as he spoke to her.
Gosalyn's eyes widened, then turned accusingly on Drake. "You told me your dad was killed by man-eating apes!"
Drake pulled at his collar nervously. "Well, that's what I thought! But apparently he's really been in hiding this whole time."
"Hiding? From what?!" Gosalyn inquired, her interest peaked.
"That's what Daddy and the nice man are trying to discuss, so why don't you play your Quackstation for a while, dear?" Drake suggested forcefully through clenched teeth.
She had been disciplined enough to know that look meant business. "Uh, heh, heh, I think I'll go play some video games," said Gosalyn, backing away from her father toward the living room.
As soon as she disappeared through the swinging door, Drake's stern glare faded and he looked apologetically at Jake. "Sorry about that; she's a little headstrong."
Little did he know that Gosalyn was listening just outside of the doorway.
"Don't worry about it. I'm sure she keeps things around here very interesting," Jake responded with a careless wave of his hand. "So, Drake, is there much outside of the life behind the mask and cape? Are you married?" He wanted to get as much information, both on Darkwing Duck AND Drake Mallard, that would put him a step ahead of Jacob."Er, no," Drake said somewhat grudgingly, as if it were something he'd been meaning to do, he just hadn't got around to it yet. "But I am seeing someone. Then there's my sidekick, Launchpad. He lives with us and helps me take care of Gos. And other than sporting events, parent-teacher meetings, and maintaining the general home infrastructure, that's pretty much it. What about you, Agent Mal- er, Jake. What do you do outside of SHUSH?"
Jake chuckled and shook his head. "Unfortunately, any life outside of SHUSH for me is non-existent," he said. It was one of the few truths he would tell Drake all evening."I know what you mean by that. I was all work before Gosalyn came into my life. How long have you known my father, Jake?" He decided it was time to get down to business.
"If by 'known' you mean how long have we known one another existed, about twenty years. That was when I first 'stumbled' upon this universe. But that was just one or two occasions I was here. It wasn't until I decided to stay here about five years later that we started butting heads and developed a strong dislike for one another. Then he disappeared."
Gosalyn pressed her ear against the closed door, growing more interested by the second. What did Jake mean by "universe?"
"Hey, Gos!" came Launcpad's voice as he descended the stairs. "Aren't you supposed to be in your--?"
The redhead grabbed Launchpad by his aviator's scarf and pulled him down so she could clamp a hand over his beak. "Shh! Listen…!" she whispered and motioned towards the closed door.
Launchpad quietly mumbled something in reply and nodded as he joined her in the eavesdropping.
"Oh, right. The Negaverse," Drake acknowledged, having vivid memories of the parallel universe which his double ruled with an iron fist. He raised a brow with a light smirk. "You couldn't stand it there either, huh?"
"It could hardly shine a light to the life here, and that's putting it mildly," Jake answered in disgust. "I was an agent for SHUSH there before I came here."
There was a pause as a red flag popped up in Drake's mind. "Hey, hold the phone…" He leaned forward and eyed Jake suspiciously. "If everything is the opposite in the Negaverse, wouldn't that make SHUSH an evil organization??"
But this only caused Jake to smile. This was an accusation he had anticipated. "You are sharp, 'Darkwing.' And you are correct. But it was not always as such. The corruption began shortly after I joined their ranks. Pretty soon, SHUSH overtook Saint Canard by means of anarchy. This was when I left SHUSH, and stumbled upon a portal that led here."
"Oh…Eheh, well, I guess that makes sense," Drake said sheepishly. He felt embarrassed that the thought of such an esteemed SHUSH agent would consort with a criminal organization. "So, you came here, joined the more righteous SHUSH, and that's when you came across my father. Was he a…good agent?"
Drake was grasping for any piece of information that could reinstate his respect and admiration for his father.
"Yes. An excellent agent. No one could deny that," Jake admitted and tried not to grit his teeth in contempt at praising his worst enemy. "He was good at everything he did and was praised for it. When I came along and began to unintentionally steal his thunder, he developed a strong disliking towards me.""Ah...he felt threatened by you? Is he the one who started the feud between you two?" Drake asked curiously.
"That would be a fair statement. He was more hostile towards me. I returned mutual feelings in my own defense. It wasn't long after my arrival that he disappeared. Many others at SHUSH assumed he didn't like the competition and just left with a grudge. Many of them still believe that. But very few of us know better...and the true story."Jake returned his attention to the briefcase. He reached inside, picked up the top enveloped file and slid it across the table to Drake. "Yes, he did disappear, but not on his own accord. It appears that your father had other enemies on his tail to worry about.""He did? Such as...?" Drake said with a raised eyebrow as he opened the file and glanced inside. The idea had never crossed his mind.
"I don't think even HE knows that for sure. He was nearly assassinated twice, probably by the same person," Jake narrated. Inside the file were documents describing a phony mission Jacob was sent to investigate. There was also a hospital report from after the first time he was shot with a couple of hospital surveillance photos of Jacob. "The last mission he was sent to investigate and never returned from was supposedly a hoax.""If it was a hoax then why did they let him go?" Drake muttered. Then he sighed loudly, running his hands down his face. "Who shot him? Why weren't we informed of the hospital records? Did SHUSH know about this the whole time? They told Mom he disappeared a few days after he left for the mission - that they had no idea where he was. And who set up this supposed 'phony mission'?" he questioned agitatedly, frustrated that instead of getting more answers, all he seemed to be getting were more questions. He put his head in his hands, feeling suddenly exhausted.
In the other room, Gosalyn narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Hmm…something smells fishy here, Launchpad…."
"Yeah, I thought Drake said he was making salmon for dinner," Launchpad agreed, the analogy going completely over his head.
"No!" Gosalyn quietly hissed and turned to face him. "I mean what they're talking about in there! Dad never talked about his father before, and now there's all of this talk about him still being alive and a phony SHUSH mission. And there's something about this Agent Mallard guy that I don't like…"
Launchpad blinked questionably. "DW has a father? He told me his father was killed in a freak golf accident!"
"Now I know something is going on here…" Gosalyn concluded as she returned to her eavesdropping.
"Don't worry, Drake. SHUSH wasn't keeping anything from you and your family. No one there even knew where he disappeared to," Jake gently reassured, which was true. "No one knew who was after him or why. But it's safe to assume whoever it was is also the person responsible for permanently crippling him."
Drake scoffed spitefully as he remembered his confrontation with Jacob earlier that day. "It didn't seem to do anything to improve his personality, that's for sure."
Jake had to hide the grin that was fighting to surface. With every minute that passed, Drake's disdain for Jacob was growing. He had him right where he wanted him. And Drake would never discover that he, Jake Mallard, was the assassin of Jacob Mallard. "Your father was good at everything he did. That was the source of his enormous ego. He never failed at anything nor was he ever outsmarted. But this assassin outsmarted him and crippled him and his ego for life. It's quite possible that he disappeared afterwards on his own accord, too ashamed to face SHUSH with his failure."
With this new information brought to light, it seemed obvious that what Jake assumed was the truth. Drake remembered his father as being very self-assured, very capable, and while he had been a good father while he'd been home, the fact of the matter was that he had barely been there. It had been more important to his father to work and spend time on missions than to raise his own children. And without work, Drake thought, his father cared for nothing. Jacob HAD abandoned them after all - just as his sister had said all along. He'd never really believed that - truly, deeply believed that - until this moment.
Drake stared back into Jake's eyes, the blue irises reflecting a cold, hardened glare. "So why is 'dear old dad' back in Saint Canard? Why NOW?"
*Because I failed to wipe him off of the face of the earth and now he wants MY blood* Jake bitterly thought to himself and secretly gritted his teeth together. "I'm not entirely sure what his full intentions are at the moment," Jake answered him. "But I don't doubt that they are far from virtuous. He's gotten Director Hooter to reinstate him as an agent, so he is back with SHUSH. Apparently, the two of them go way back."
"I know," Drake snapped quietly. After Jacob had disappeared, J. Gander had become like a second father to Drake - though he, like Jacob, could never afford much time away from work. And now he felt betrayed by J. slid the briefcase across the table towards Drake. "In the meantime, I'm sure there's plenty here for you to read up on and get the whole story. The REAL story.""I'll do that," Drake said, taking the file he had been reading and placing it inside.
ERRR! ERRR! ERRR! ERRR!
A loud alarm suddenly blared through the house, which was accompanied by a flashing red light. It caused Jake to jump and clap his hands over his ears. "What the blazes is that?!"
"DRAT! It's the Darkwing Remote Alarm Terminal!" Drake announced and jumped to his feet. His eyes were wide with the adrenaline rush that came with the news of a crime in progress.
"Uh oh!" Gosalyn cried over the sound of the alarm, knowing she would be grounded if she were caught listening in on the private conversation. She looked up at Launchpad. "Quick! Hide!"
They both bolted up the stairs just as Drake came barreling into the living room. He pulled aside a framed family photograph that was hanging on the wall and pressed the outrageously large red button that had been hidden there. The alarm ceased, and a portion of the wall slid aside to reveal a small computer terminal. He hopped into the chair and began typing away at the keyboard.
"AH HA!" he declared loudly as he read the text that appeared on the screen. "It's Negaduck! That dastardly duck of darkness is up to his diabolical deeds once again!"
Drake jumped up and passed Jake an apologetic yet excited look. "Agent Mallard, sorry to cut this short but duty calls!"
Jake held up a hand dismissively. "No apology necessary, Drake. I'll show myself out." He passed him an encouraging smile. "Get to work, Darkwing."
Drake could feel himself swell with pride from the agent's parting remark. "Launchpad! Launchpad! We gotta go! We--! Oh, forget it," he concluded. Too excited to wait for his sidekick and confident that he could stop Negaduck on his own, he leapt into one of the blue chairs and punched the statue of Basil of Baker Street on the head. The chairs whirred and spun, and then the mallard was gone.
As soon as Drake was out of sight, Jake's warm smile twisted into one of deviousness that would rival that of his son. He now had Drake despising Jacob, and he would continue to pull the masked hero onto his side of the line. It was just one more victory for Jake over Jacob.
He picked up his coat and started to pull it on as he headed toward the door. As he did so, a head of read hair peered around the corner from the top of the stairs and watched with suspicious green eyes.
Then Jake suddenly stopped. He narrowed his eyes and looked over his shoulder, but then saw no one. With a conclusive grunt, he continued on his way and exited the Mallard home.
Gosalyn waited until she saw the car pull out of the driveway and drive down the street before she came downstairs. She made a beeline to the kitchen where Drake and Jake had been having their conversation. The briefcase had been left open on the table.
"Hey, Plain View Doctrine," Gosalyn justified aloud with a shrug and hopped up onto a chair so she could dig through the briefcase's contents.