...and now, back to PENGUIN$

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

The usually calm, collected and very redheaded Ms. Morgret chose that moment
to lose her cool.  Walking up to Forrester she met him eye to eye. "Look
Bubba," she said, "let me tell you a few things about Penguins." She gave
him a shove and he landed in the chair behind him with a thud. Leaning on
the armrests she continued. "Not all penguins are alike. Some are different.
There are those that stand as tall as a man and have the strength of ten.
Their feet have huge talon-like claws and they have needle sharp beaks, made
of...of some crystalline material we can't identify yet. Their skins are
coated with a toxic residue that kills almost instantly if you get enough on
you. Worst of all the penguins that we're fighting are capable of mind
control. If they get you, they can make you do anything they want. They can
destroy you. They can tear you apart mentally and physically. How's that for
ya, huh?" She fell silent, panting.

Forrester stared up at her with rapt attention. "I think I'm in love," he
said finally. His mouth turned up slowly in a grin and he looked her up and
down, taking in the black t-shirt, GAP khakis and black Converse sneakers.
"Are you married darlin'?"

Christi froze, her eyes wide and her top lip curling up slightly in disgust.

Peter slapped his knee and started laughing, relief visible on his face.

Valeria shook her head in amazement. This was going to be a long night.

Just then, there came a tapping on the door.

"Come!" Valeria shouted.

The door opened to reveal Fred, breathing heavily. "Boss, come quick.
There's a package here for you. It's from the Home Office."

"A package? Since when does Canada Post deliver at this time of night?"

"I dunno 'bout that. It was in the mailbox when I got back from taking
Captain Canuck out for his walkies," he said and then added ominously,
"something's inside it."

"That's not unusual Fred," Christi snorted. "People don't tend to mail empty
packages."

Fred rolled his eyes in frustration. "No Morgret. I mean SOMETHING'S inside
it. The goddam thing is MOVING!"

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

Valeria pulled a H&K P7 9mm from the holster she wore under her jean jacket
and was out the door in a flash with Peter and Christi on her heels.
Forrester calmly picked up the green bag and pulled out a Remington 870 12
gage shotgun.

"For close encounters," he muttered to himself as he slowly loaded it with 3
inch cartridges, then snapped the tubular magazine shut. "Time to Rock and
Roll."

In the Wreck Room, the atmosphere was one of near chaos. The package lay on
the floor, flopping like a fish out of water. The team surrounded it,
weapons pointed but with looks of confusion and fear on their faces. They'd
seen the extent of penguin villainy in their time. Anything could happen in
the blink of an eye.

George looked up as Valeria burst into the room.

"What do we have George?"

"Well it sure ain't the goddam pay, boss," he replied matter-of-factly.

"Very funny. Peter? Christi? Ideas would be welcome here."

"This is a new one on me," Christi said. "We can't take any chances."

"Maybe it's a practical joke?" Fred suggested tightening his hold on his
crossbow.

"No way," Valeria said. "It's from Whitewright, they don't joke around down
there."

"My guess is to try to contain it somehow," Peter said.

"Agreed. We can't all start shooting at it in here anyway," George added.
"Someone's gonna get ventilated real quick that way."

"Wait," Christi said suddenly. "You've got a point George. No shooting.
We've got the heat turned up. It's comfortably warm in here. You know
what'll happen if this is what I think it is."

"Oh God," Valeria moaned. "She's right. Listen up people. We can't have any
shooting in here."

One of the mercs looked up in disgust. "What're we s'pposed to use, harsh
language?"

The package took that opportunity to burst open. From the remains of the
U.S. Postal package fell something that on first glance looked like a tiny,
purple, penguin plush toy.  It lay silently on its side, glossy black eyes
staring mutely.

"What the hell is that?" Fred muttered in the silence that followed.

"It's some kind of trick!" Mina yelled, goosebumps giving her tattoos a
raised, 3D effect. "I say we waste it!" She pulled a lethal looking knife
from her belt and lunged for the penguin.

"Mina no!" Bob yelled, grabbing her at the last second. "Look!"

A wave of energy washed through the room like a hot wind, and the tiny body
immediately began to shudder. Slowly, its little head turned and one flipper
reached out as if stretching after a long sleep.

"What're we waiting for?!" Mina screamed.

The mercs agreed. They fell on the minuscule invader like football players
tackling the man with the ball. A lot of pushing, shoving and yelling of "I
got it" followed.

"Okay! All right already! Everyone move back. Jayzus," George yelled, wading
into the fray. "Can't see a damn thing. Morris get the hell off Dwight,
you're choking him! Bunch of idiots wouldn't know your asses from...."

He stopped.

"George, what's wrong?" Valeria breathed.

"Well, let's see," George sighed. "Purple, about four inches tall, penguin
shaped and missing."

"Missing?" Valeria cried out.

"Missing?" the mercs yelled in unison.

"You see a penguin?" George yelled back, "I sure as HELL don't see no damn
penguin."

From the far corner of the room, near the ping pong table, came tiny, evil
giggling noises. Slowly the team turned to look.

"It's behind the table," Fred mouthed.

"No kidding Einstein!" Mina yelled. "Get it!'

"Hee!" Squeaked the penguin as it zipped out from under the table moving
like a bat outta hell. It stopped just out of reach and shook its little
purple butt at them.

"Damn that thing can move," Christi muttered and grabbed the nearest weapon
she could find, which happened to be a ping pong paddle.

Peter pulled himself around the corner into the hallway that lead to the
offices and training rooms. He had to think. Something wasn't right about
all this. Why just one penguin? Why was it taunting them and what was it
hoping to achieve?

Suddenly he was shoved roughly aside and looked up to see Forrester
disappearing around the corner into the wreckroom, trailing L'Air du Temps
perfume in his wake. He was carrying a shotgun.

"DAMN!" Peter yelled, "No! Forrester WAIT!"

In the room, the chase was still on. The penguin was proving to be slicker
than a greased pig in a school cafeteria. Forrester appeared in the doorway.
He held his ground, chambered a round and then aimed the shotgun.

The penguin stopped and seemed to sniff the air, then, spotting Forrester,
it gave a little leap into the air and sped towards him, narrowly avoiding
being flattened by three hundred pounds of merc.

"Yippeeeeee!" Squeaked the penguin, looking very excited.

"Forrester, NOOOOO!!" Valeria yelled, but it was too late.

Forrester aimed point blank at the tiny advancing form. The shotgun boomed
in the enclosed space of the wreckroom.

The penguin exploded into thousands of tiny pieces of purple goo.

"God help us." Fred said from the other side of the sofa, crossing himself.

"Oh man, this is NOT good," One of the Mercs said from behind the bar. "We
are so screwed."

"Now THAT'S how you propeller-heads are supposed to kill a penguin,"
Forrester said. Splatters of the purple stuff hung from his hair and covered
his clothes.

"No you idiot, that's not how you kill a penguin," Christi said tersely,
easing herself to the edge of the doorway. She, Peter and Valeria had thrown
themselves into the hallway when the shot was fired.

Forrester looked at her with narrowed eyes. "Now what could you possibly
mean by that darlin'?"

"That, darlin', is how they reproduce," Christi said. "Warm enclosure,
sufficient impact."

"Sufficient what?" Forrester shrieked, blinking.

"Winston," Valeria whispered. "For the love of whatever you call holy, don't
move."

The thousands of tiny pieces of purple goo all began to shudder.

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

"Sweet Jesus," whispered Forrester as the goo began to slither like quick
silver over his body and towards the floor.

"Be very, very still Forrester," Peter said carefully. "You're covered in a
highly toxic substance, but thankfully its main concern is to be free of
you. You're too warm."

"I thought you said...," Forrester began.

"That part's over. The newly born infants will need cooler temperatures to
form. They eventually lose their toxicity but they also get much, much
stronger. Right now, they're weak and blind, but not for very long."

Valeria looked back at Christi and Peter. There was no need to ask the
questions that were plain in her eyes.

"More heat," Peter said. "Lots more. It's the only way."

"Risky, but it's all we have." Christi nodded. "We'll seal the wreckroom and
turn up the heat really high. They won't survive in temperature like that in
their infant state."

"Everybody out!" Valeria yelled. She looked across a toxic sea of purple to
the other side of the room where the temperature controls sat on the wall.
"Mina! Try to make it to the thermostat and push it up as far as it'll go."

"I'm on it!" Mina shouted.

The infants were no longer puddles of purple goo. In the blink of an eye
they'd become tiny, fully formed Penguins with sharp talons and lethally
edged crystalline beaks. Their bodies shone with the remnants of the highly
toxic purple goo.

The floor around Forrester was a mess of tiny bodies. Now that the goo was
off him, his confidence seemed to be returning though it was tempered with a
healthy dose of respect.  Carefully he nudged a penguin with one foot.  It
reacted immediately, sinking its beak into the shiny steel tip of his Docs,
puncturing the metal, but not the boot itself.

"Damn," he said quietly, shaking the tiny horror off as gently as he could.

"There's only one way to do this people," George said. "Get ready to fight
your way to the nearest exit. Use your feet, your fists, whatever, but
remember NO WEAPONS!"

"Hasta lasagna, don't get any on ya," Dwight murmured.

"Damn straight," Morris replied flexing his fists.

"And Fred," George added. "If you shoot me or anything else with that thing
I'm gonna stuff those arrows up your fat behind."

"Um, yeah, sure big guy," Fred gulped and lowered the crossbow.

"We have some serious movement happening here!" Peter yelled.

"Let's do it people!" George thundered.

Spying a golf bag behind her, Mina selected a nine-iron and begun the
assault with a nice controlled swing, showing excellent form and hoping that
the impact wasn't enough to cause more problems.

"FORE!" she yelled, and proceeded to cut a path towards the far wall.

Penguins sailed left and right, experiencing the joy of flight. They landed
on top of each other, unamused and with no appreciation for the intricacies
of the sport.

Morris and Dwight took the hint and started bashing away at the wriggling
mass. The Penguins scattered, only to regroup and attack.

The room became a mess of fighting bodies, both human and penguin. Fred
watched helplessly from the sidelines, trying to staunch the flow of blood
from a wound on the leg of an unconscious merc he'd dragged to the sofa. He
worked with one hand while using his feet to kick away the tiny purple
attackers as best he could.

George was covered with the things. They pecked and clawed at him
mercilessly. Fighting like a maniac, he managed to tear them off him just in
time to be hit by a penguin projectile thanks to the wrath of Mina. He
stumbled backwards into the elevator buttons on the nearby wall. The 'up'
light dinged on and the doors opened. George got a glimpse of the penguin
that had felled him. It had landed inside the elevator. He could see it sit
up and look around itself slowly as the doors closed.

Valeria tried to put years of martial arts training to use against opponents
that now topped 2 feet in height. Mina had managed to reach the thermostat
and the enemy's growth had been slowly halted by the increase in
temperature. Both sides were giving way to heat and exhaustion.

Fred grabbed a nearby flame-thrower and in his panic proceeded to set
everything around him on fire, except for his attackers. The familiar sound
drew Valeria's attention just as smoke begun to billow about the room,
cutting visibility. She grabbed the edge of her shirt and covered her nose
and mouth but kept kicking at the tiny marauders, knowing that dropping to
her knees to avoid the smoke was not an option.

Over the sounds of the battle the ding of the elevator could be heard
clearly. Before the smoke completely reduced visibility Valeria caught sight
of the doors opening to reveal a penguin and a blank eyed husky.

Captain Canuck had fallen to the Penguin Menace.

The fire sprinklers suddenly came to life sending cooling streams of water
down onto the angry flames.  Almost immediately the heat lessened, but the
fire was far from extinguished.

As if of one mind, the penguins suddenly halted their attack.

"What the hell?" yelled Dwight.

"I can't see!" Mina shrieked, "What are they doing?"

"Forget them!" Valeria shouted. "Get out of here. Head for the emergency
exit by the weapons room!"

"Mercs, we are LEA-VING!" Dwight yelled as he helped Fred pull the wounded
man to safety.

"Bob?" Mina wailed. "I can't find Bob!"

"Save yourself Mina! Come on," cried Rob, one of the mercs. "Bob wouldn't
want you to die trying to save him."

"Booobbbbbbbb!!"

When the last Team Member had cleared the wreck room, Christi smashed a
Plexiglas covered emergency control. An alarm sounded and a heavy
containment door slid closed effectively cutting the hallway from the
Wreckroom.  Powerful emergency venting cleared the remaining smoke, leaving
a group of soggy, tired and disgruntled humans.

"I'm sorry boss!" Fred wailed. "I just meant to keep them away from Bob
here. He's hurt bad!"

Valeria gave him what she hoped was a reassuring look. "It's okay Fred. You
did what you had to do. Hey, I did say turn up the heat right?"

"Well, yeah, I guess....," Fred mumbled unhappily.

"Come on people," George growled, oblivious to his injuries. "This ain't
over yet."

"Where'd they go?" Mina asked, tears rolling down her face.

"The elevator," Peter said simply. "They took the elevator."

"But it looked like there were hundreds of them," Morris said in disgust.
"Man, that's impossible."

"Believe it," Valeria said. "You heard George. MOVE! They've probably made
it outside by now. This is definitely NOT OVER. We can't let them get away."

Moments later, Valeria was the first to stumble out of the emergency door
and up the stairs to the outside. The cool night air was a welcome relief
after the smoke clogged atmosphere of the bunker.

She checked her watch. The battle hadn't taken more than 20 minutes. Running
around to the front of the building with the team at her heels, she saw the
doors of the front entrance hanging off their hinges as if blasted from the
inside. Glass covered the ground.

In the distance she could see the tail end of the herd of penguins as they
crowded onto the mammoth black metal draw bridge that separated Toronto
Harbor from a docking channel currently housing a huge tanker. They weren't
far from The Docks, one of Toronto's hottest nightclubs. Capable of holding
up to 2,000 patrons on the dance floor alone, it was sure to be packed with
unsuspecting, inebriated humans. The carnage would be unimaginable.

Then, something caught her eye.

"Oh no," she whispered.

George came up behind her. "What?"

"Look! There's a car way up ahead. What if there are people in it? We have
to do something!"

"Stay calm," George replied. "Will's getting the bus. Saddle up people! We
have some civvies to rescue!"
 

Continued in   Issue 3  of PENGUIN$...

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