....and now, back to PENGUIN$

********************

By the time Forrester pulled the car to a screeching halt in front of the
building, Christi had resigned herself to being a willing member of the
expedition, giving up any thought of escape.

"You can put the gun away," she said as Forrester pulled the key from the
ignition and allowed the vehicle to cough, sputter and shake its way to
silence.

He gave her a long assessing look, then nodded and tucked the weapon into
the back of his jeans. Leaning over the steering wheel he tilted his head
awkwardly to stare up the length of the building through the windshield, a
low whistle escaping from his lips.

"You sure this is the right place darlin'?"

"I know what I heard Winston, if that's what you're asking." Christi was
paying more attention to the stairs that lead to the main entrance. In the
short space of time since they'd arrived, she seen two people approach the
revolving door, stop suddenly, then turn and walk away. "That is just plain
weird," she said softly.

"Now darlin'," Forrester said, clearing his throat loudly, trying to get her
attention. He reached a large callused hand forward and grabbed her chin,
forcing her to meet his eyes. "Darlin', before we do anything I want to make
one thing perfectly clear. I'm in charge. You hear me? I call the shots. I
want you to remember to be a good girl and do as I tell you."

Christi's eyes darkened with anger and twin spots of red appeared on her
normally pale cheeks. "You have a real problem with respect don'tcha
Forrester," she snarled through clenched teeth. "Now let go of my chin and
cut the bullshit. I want to get this over with."

"Now hon, I'm only saying this for your own good," Forrester said as if he
was speaking to a child. "You know I love you, girl."

"Goddess spare me from idiots who tell me they love me." Christi smacked his
hand away and threw the car door open, stepping out into the early morning
air. She slammed the door closed and stood, hands on hips, studying the
entrance to the building again. Behind her she could hear Forrester get out
of the car and open the back door, muttering to himself. He pulled out the
sack containing the penguin pacifier and slung it over his right shoulder,
then fished out a large duffel bag which she had since learned was filled
with weaponry, ammunition and a layer of dirty laundry.

His actions were jerky with anger. After violently kicking the door shut he
stormed up behind her. "Now you listen here woman..." he started but was
immediately cut off.

"We need to find the source of the foo," Christi said, lost in thought as
she scanned the area. "They're guarding the fort, Winston. There are
penguins hidden around the entrance here somewhere and we're gonna have to
find them."

"I don't see a damn thing," Forrester snapped.

"Don't believe me?" Christi said softly. "Then watch this guy."

The pre-rush hour streets were beginning to fill with intermittent traffic
and bleary eyed humans were streaming up the stairs from the nearest subway
station. A bald man, wearing a suit and a leather jacket, was approaching
the entrance to the building. He carried a styrofoam cup with the Starbucks
logo on it in one hand and a briefcase in the other.

His stride began to lose it's purpose about twenty feet from the revolving
doors. By the time he reached the entrance he came to a full halt, a look of
confusion and frustration on his face. He glanced back towards the street,
his eyes round with desperation. He then stamped his foot, shook his head
and hurried in Christi and Forrester's direction.

"Hey bud, you okay?" Forrester yelled.

"Huh?" The man stopped and looked up as if fighting to see through a thick
fog.

"He asked if you're okay," Christi said, leaning back against the car.

"Um, yeah." He blinked. "I, um, I think I left my curling iron on. Gotta go
home. Yeah." He hurried off.

"See what I mean?" Christi said, crossing her arms over her chest. "That
kind of thing has happened four times since we got here. Now if we'd been
smart and told the team what was going on they'd have known exactly what to
do in this situation; but no, you had to do it the hard way. I don't go out
with them on jobs Winston! I'm classified as technical support so I usually
stay behind at the factory. I've never killed a penguin in my life. The
team's killed thousands, but you had to go and....Winston?" Christi suddenly
noticed that the hapless assassin was no longer by her side. Her voice
dripped with suspicion. "What're you doing Winston? I sure hope it's nothing
stupid."

"Darlin' someday you'll learn to trust me," Forrester said, his voice
muffled. He had dropped the duffel bag and sack and was rummaging through
the contents of the trunk. "A-HA! Got it!"

"Got what Winston?" Christi asked cautiously.

Forrester removed a battered grenade launcher and a bulging green garbage
bag from the mess of weaponry, then slammed the trunk shut. He reached
gingerly into the bag, his face soured with disgust, and pulled out a dead
fish.

He looked up at Christi and grinned. "Now for once, Ms. Penguin-Specialist,
we're gonna do things my way."

Christi shook her head. "Do you honestly think they'll fall for the old
fish-as-bait routine Winston? It's been done before."

"You did say that the smaller penguins aren't as smart as the bigger ones,
right?"

Christi tilted her head and sighed. "Yeah. Most of them, but..."

"Do you see anything large enough around the entrance that could be hiding
one of the big penguins?" Forrester interrupted.

"Well, uh, no." Christi was forced to agree.

"So this is the best plan we've got!" Forrester smiled. "Y'see darlin', I
figure our best shot is to go in through those doors right there. I'm gonna
fire this fish, and draw those damn birds away from the doors."

"This will never work," Christi muttered, crossing her arms over her chest
and scratching at the ground with the tip of her sneaker. "I can't believe
I'm standing here listening to this."

Forrester stuffed the fish into the opening of the launcher and shouldered
it. He pulled the sight down and patted the back of his head.

"FISH IN THE HOLE!" He yelled, and launched the mackerel at a spot some
distance away from the revolving doors. It landed and then bounced a few
times before coming to rest a few feet from a metal canister filled with
fine white sand and cigarette butts.

Together, Christi and Forrester stood and stared, waiting for something to
happen.  Nothing did.

"Now, y'see? What did I say?" Christi said smugly. "I hope you're gonna be
man enough to admit that you were wrong."

Forrester ignored her, scratching his head. "Maybe I didn't use enough
fish," he said, rubbing the stubble on his chin. "I should have brought
salmon instead of mackerel." He stuffed two fish into the launcher, once
again heaved it onto his shoulder and took aim.

"FISH IN THE HOLE!" He yelled again and fired.

Christi looked up from her pacing to see two pedestrians staring at them
with flabbergasted looks on their faces.

"It's okay," she told them. "We're Americans."

This put the man at ease. "Got a brother living in California," He said to
the woman beside him. "This is the sort of thing he'd do."

"No kidding, eh?" The woman replied. "God, we're always so behind on the
cool trends up here." She shook her head and the two continued down the
sidewalk.

"Okay Winston, that's it! I've had enough!" Christi said in a huff. "I think
we should get back in the car and..."

"SHHHH!" Forrester said. "Look!"

Christi looked towards the fish, but saw nothing move.

"I think you're seeing things," she said.

"No, wait a moment. It'll happen again." Forrester sounded very excited.

Muttering to herself Christi stood and watched the fish. Just as she was
about to lose her temper completely, something happened. The butt-filled
canister magically rose a few inches off the ground and waddled a few feet
in the direction of the fish.

"Well whaddya know?" Christi said, amazed. "You were right after all."

"Can't let you  have all the fun all the time darlin'," Forrester said,
sounding very pleased with himself. "Now all we need is more fish."

"Here, let me help," Christi said, suddenly animated with excitement.

They fired two more fish to join the two already on the ground, and then
fired another three on the other side of the doors. About ten minutes later,
a potted plant had joined the canister. A newspaper box and an over-filled
garbage can were closing in on the other pile of fish. The revolving doors
were now as unguarded as they'd ever be. It was time to move.

Forrester tossed the launcher and the bag of remaining fish aside and once
again picked up the duffel and the sack.

"After you, darlin'," he said with a slight bow.

The lobby was deathly still as they emerged from the revolving doors. They
hurried to the front desk, weapons drawn.

"Something definitely happened here," Christi said, spying the
bullet-riddled walls and curious blue smears on the floor that looked oddly
like blood.

"We can't think about that now darlin'. At least there's no red stuff on the
floor." Forrester patted her shoulder and moved around to stand behind the
desk. Bending over, he lifted the garbage can and removed a ring with two
keys from under it.

Christi looked up from her examination of the sign-in book. "Now how the
hell did you know that was there?" She asked.

Forrester looked sheepish. "It's a standard trick. I did some security work
in my time. Never got to shoot anyone, so I gave up on it."

"I, uh, see." Christi shook her head. "Well, it looks like a Dr. Pisces
signed in for the 123th floor."

Forrester unlocked the desk drawers one by one until he found a stash of
white security cards.

"Time to Rock and Roll darlin',"he said and headed for the elevators.

Christi blew out a breath. "I can't believe I'm doing this," she moaned.

An elevator dinged softly and the doors shushed open. Once inside, Forrester
slid one of the cards in and out of the reader. The light above it turned a
healthy green and the doors closed.

"I hope you've got a plan ready when these doors open," Christi said as the
elevator began it's ascent. "Because they're not exactly gonna welcome us
with open arms."

"Don't worry hon, I'll think of something," Forrester replied absently as he
lowered the duffel to the floor and hunkered down beside it. He pulled out
two AK-47 machine guns, slinging one over his shoulder and passing the other
to Christi.

"Now darlin'," he said gently. "I want to show you a few things about this
here gun so you're not afraid to fire it. It's got a recoil on it that could
knock a little thing like you right off your feet."

"Cut the crap you idiot, I'm five foot nine," Christi snapped. She expertly
pulled out the gun's curved magazine, checked it, then slammed it home
again. Forrester watched with dull amazement as she lifted the gun up to her
cheek and checked the sight, then expertly pulled down on the cocking
mechanism to chamber a round. Her every movement showed complete competence
with the weapon.  "I'll admit it's a bit bigger than I'm used to, but it's
nothing I can't handle," she said finally. "I made sure that I learned all I
could when I started up with the resistance movement. Is there anything in
that bag of yours that you'd like me to give you a few pointers on,
Winston?" She graced him with a look of pure innocence.

"Damn," Forrester said. "We might live through this after all."

Christi snorted. "You're damn right we're gonna live Winston. I didn't let
myself get dragged into this just so you could get me killed."

Forrester simply shook his head, still in shock.

A few minutes later the doors shushed open on the 125th floor, revealing an
empty elevator lobby.

Forrester and Christi, who had flattened their backs against the walls of
the elevator, let out a collective sigh and relaxed slightly. Forrester
ducked his head outside and then pulled it back quickly.

"Empty," he said quietly. "The whole damn place is deserted."

"Our welcoming committee could still be out there," Christi whispered in
reply. "Don't take this quiet for granted Winston."

"Cover me," Forrester said and eased himself out of the elevator.  The black
marble desk and floors gleamed dully in the low night-time lighting.
Forrester let a low whistle escape from his lips as he glanced at the shiny
brass Diokletian logo. "This guy must be just raking in the bucks."

"I don't know much about him," Christi said as she came up behind Forrester,
her eyes scanning the area restlessly. "Valeria seems to think he's in deep
with the Penguin forces. So now what?"

"We search the place, I guess," Forrester said. He approached the security
door and bent forward to inspect the retinal scanner. "Looks like he isn't
using the standard building security protocols. Those security cards we
picked up won't work worth shit on this."

Christi walked slowly around the lobby with her head down, holding her gun.
She was paying particular attention to a low rumbling sound that she was
sure was coming from above her. "Forrester can you hear that?" She asked.

Forrester stood and squinted, listening hard. He looked up. "Darlin', these
buildings are made with reinforced concrete. Whatever is making that noise
is pretty damn big. It sure as hell doesn't sound like the air conditioning,
now does it?"

"No it doesn't," she replied.

There was a loud click and the security door behind them swung open.

"Jayzus!" Forrester yelped, jumping. Both he and Christi aimed their weapons
at the door and began to back away.

"Damn! I'm so stupid," Christi spat out. "They must have been watching us on
the security cameras the whole time!"

A figure appeared in the doorway. It was a tiny, uniformed cleaning lady.
She stood quietly, hands at her sides.

"Winston," Christi said. "Look at her face. She's been foo-ed!"

"Easy now darlin', this could be a trap," Forrester replied tersely.

The woman began to walk towards them. She was followed by a line of five
other people all with the same blank eyed expression as herself.

"Get ready darlin'. I'm sorry I brought you into this," Forrester said.

"Oh right!" Christi snapped. "Sure you are. Just hold your damn fire,
Winston. Humans who have been foo-ed are like computers. They have to be
told what to do, and unless told otherwise they will continue to do exactly
what they are told to for eternity. These people stopped when they saw us,
so that tells us that they've obviously sensed our presence, but this bunch
obviously hasn't been programmed to be on the alert for intruders. If they
had, been we would have been dead by now."

Forrester sighed. "So we don't get to shoot them?"

"No Winston. We don't get to shoot them. I can't believe you sometimes!"
Christi said, exasperated. "My guess is that they want us to get in line and
follow them."

"I sure as hell don't think so darlin'!" Forrester nearly yelled. "I'm not
lettin' a bunch of foo-ed up zombies take me that easy."

"No you idiot!" Christi smacked her forehead with her free hand. "We're not
giving ourselves up. Don't you see? This Pisces guy is over-confident. He's
not expecting anyone to infiltrate his operation at this level. These guys
here think that we're one of them!"

"I don't buy it, and I don't like this at all," Forrester said warily, on
the verge of a serious sulk.

"Well, like it or not it's our only option," Christi replied. "We're gonna
have to hide our guns and that sack of yours in the big garbage bag on the
cleaning lady's cart because I'm guessing that when we get to where we're
going there will be penguins there that will notice." Christi sunk the AK-47
into the large green bag, then removed the Glock 26 from her belly bag and
shoved it into the back of her jeans.

Forrester looked like he'd just swallowed a bug. He made no move to hide his
machine gun.

Christi clapped her hands. "C'mon Winston, Chop, chop! Drop the gun in the
garbage bag and move that cute butt of yours into line!"

Forrester gave her a lop-sided grin. "Cute? You like my butt darlin'?"

Christi sighed. "Drop the gun and come on over here and I'll tell you all
about it big boy."

Forrester shook his head and forced himself to put the AK-47 down. He pulled
out his hand gun, a Lugar 9mm, from the back of his jeans, took the safety
off, stuffed it down the front of his jeans and then pulled his shirt over
it.

Christi looked on skeptically. "Are you sure you want to do that Winston?
Not planning on having a family some day or anything?"

Forrester grinned, reached a fist down to his crotch and banged on it with
his knuckles. The resulting sound was not what Christi had expected.

"Um, wow," she said, honestly impressed. "What the hell have you got down
there Winston?"

"Titanium alloy cup, Darlin'," Forrester said smugly. "My momma didn't raise
no stupid children."

Christi sighed. "Just get in line Winston, and do what you seem to do best."

Forrester didn't look amused. "And what might that be darlin'?"

"Act like a dummy." Christi smiled. "After all. You are supposed to be
foo-ed."

Forrester sniffed once and stuck his tongue out at her. He then heaved the
sack containing the penguin pacifier over his shoulder and joined her at the
end of the line of blank-eyed humans.

Continued in  Issue 11  of PENGUIN$...

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