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Unfinished Business

Summary:

Steelbeak and enemy, Javert, are after each other. Can Darkwing stop them before it's too late.

Chapter 1: Chapter 2

Chapter Text

"Unfinished Business"

by Roaming Tigress

Fandom: Darkwing Duck

Summery: Steelbeak and enemy, Javert, are after each other. Can Darkwing stop them before it's too late?

Author's note: It is recommended that you read "Twisted Every Way" and "My Funny Friend and Me" before reading further on into this story.



Unfinished Business

by Roaming Tigress



Part 1: Introductory

Mr. Roberto Volatili was one of the wealthiest and most successful lawyers St. Canard has ever seen. His array of clients ranged from, simple-minded Eggmen, to the insane Megavolt and the ordinary, everyday citizen. The job brought money, and with it, power.

At the age of 70, the white-feathered rooster didn't look a day over 50. His cheek feathers had only begun to turn silvery-grey at the tips, and his body was as solid as it was when he was forty. In a picture of good health, he had made a promise to keep working until the day he would die.

He had moved to St. Canard in 1995 and remarried Amelia Volatili. By chance, the two had met up with one another in a French café in the downtown core of the city. Their previous marriage had been ruined by the birth of their third son, Valentino, who later became known as the infamous F.O.W.L agent, Steelbeak. Once he came out of the picture, Amelia forgot about this wretched being and was determined to lead a normal life.

A dignified, gentlemanly appearance hid Roberto's inner bitterness. Ten years ago, he had found out that his son, the worthless little creature whom he spat on at birth, was still alive. Worst still was the death of one of his older sons, Antonio. Although the death was accidental, Roberto placed the blame on the same individual that Amelia did - - Valentino.

Son of a High Commander and spy of F.O.W.L, Javert J. Adair was out for revenge. He had been jailed for the attempted murder of Steelbeak and was eventually fired. The white mallard with the distinctive black patch over his right eye was driven to near insanity over this, and plotting went underway to rid himself of the constant thorn in his side.

After hearing of his father's whereabouts and the release of Javert, Steelbeak himself was beginning to slip into a realm of revenge and insanity -- a deadly combination. This rooster had unfinished business to attend to.



Chapter One: The Beginning of Trouble

Drake Mallard laid stretched out comfortably on his lawn chair, sipping lemonade and reading the newspaper. The front page had a picture of him striking a dramatic pose, with the headline reading "Daring Darkwing Wins Again." Making St. Canard a safer place was his duty, but it wasn't every day the egotistical duck made headlines, and when it did, it was a cause for celebration.

The vigilante had spent most of the day going after the Fearsome Five who attempted, once again, to take over the St. Canard Power Plant. He saved the city from a major power outage, and could settle down for a little rest and relaxation. For the moment, anyway. St. Canard was a city of a thousand villains, and it wouldn't be long until someone would stir up some sort of criminal activity. A bored teenager, a jaywalker, a vacationing Beagle Boy.

"Another day, another crowd of cowardly criminals spending their summer vacation in the slammer!" He smiled smugly, casually tossing the papers on the ground and folding his arms behind his head. "In addition, I've also taken care of ahold of Tuskerninni, and Moliarty. All in one week!"

"Keen gear! But what about FOWL?" Gosalyn asked, stretched out on the grass and grudgingly working on her homework. With plans on inviting a few friends over for a house party, she secretly hoped there was a villain that Darkwing needed to go after.

"They're ALWAYS up to something!"

"F.O.W.L? Oh puh-lease!" Drake scoffed at his now-teenage daughter. "Their staff are on strike, remember? High Command's having too busy making sure disgruntled agents won't burn down their headquarters, let alone send them out on ridiculous missions."

"Oh . . . " Gosalyn muttered quietly under her breath.

Darn it, dad! Now I won't have this party!

"I swear I must've killed him . . . " A snarling male voice spat out from behind the white-painted wooden fence. Drake was alerted by this voice and jumped off the lawn chair in surprise.

"Javert!?"

"I shot him square in the chest, I don't know how he'd survive . . . " The same voice said in disbelief, this time in a lower tone. "Knocked him clean off his feet in shock!"

"Are you sure he wasn't wearing a bullet-a proof vest?" A second voice snapped. "Either that or my son has more lives than a cat!"

"What the . . . ?" Gosalyn's green eyes widened in surprise and ran over the fence to take a peek. "But . . . I thought he was in jail for trying to kill Steelbeak!"

"They released that fiend!" Drake mumbled, pacing back and forth a bit before looking over the fence. He saw that he was with another slimy individual - - Roberto, the crooked lawyer.

"I may not like Steelbeak for what he does, but I don't exactly want him bumped off."

"As tempting as it is!" Gosalyn added, playfully elbowing him in the ribs. "Who's the other guy?"

"Roberto Volatili, a lying, leering lawyer! I've dealt with him in the past!" He said with disgust. "He's been charged with fraud more than I can think!"

Down the street, Roberto handed Javert a wad of money. He uttered something in Italian and strolled down the opposite side of the street with furrowed eyebrows and a conniving smile. His suspicious behavior did not go unnoticed by Drake, whom quickly changed into his famed alter ego.

"Stay here, Gos!" He told her firmly, briskly leaving the yard once he saw the pair had disappeared behind a corner. "If I need you, I'll reach you on my cell phone!"

"Okay, dad!" Gosalyn replied in fake disappointment, gathering up her homework and heading back into the house.

Hiding behind cars and sneaking behind the occasional bush, Darkwing Duck managed to track down the location of Roberto without being detected. This time the aged but unscrupulous rooster was with his wife, and a moment later, Javert met up with them. He watched as Amelia handed a large sum of money to the ex-spy and paid special attention to how casual and friendly the three acted with one another. After all, Roberto and his wife were not the most sociable citizens.

Something tells me these three aren't out for a regular walk around the block!

Darkwing's suspicions came true as he went in for a closer inspection. They were in a middle of a conversation and he hung onto every word, not letting a single detail go unnoticed. Parts of the conversation was in Italian, a language that he never understood properly.

"If you ask me, Mr and Mrs. Volatili, you should've done away with that horrid Steelbeak decades ago!" Javert sneered, placing a couple of hundred dollar bills in his wallet.

"It would've done everyone a favor, plus I might've been High Command by now."

"That lowlife brought nothing but trouble to my life!" Amelia seethed with pure rage in her eyes. "This time, shoot to kill!"

"When you manage to kill my son, I want you to bring back his skull!" Roberto ordered, making it graphically clear that he loathed his son more than anything else in the world. "Make sure you hit an artery or two. I want him to suffer!"

"I aim to please!" Javert asserted with a chuckle. "I will assure you madame that this time, I will kill Steelbeak. I myself despise the creature, and I want him dead as much as you do!"

Darkwing's bill hang open in shock. With a shudder and a nauseous sensation, he quickly envisioned Javert atop of a building and gunning down Steelbeak in broad daylight. He saw the blood, the horrified scream of both the agent and of panicked passerbys. He saw a triumphant Javert cheering and waving his gun in the air, and down below, the agent lying in a pool of his own blood and withering in pain.

I must intervene!

Something caught Darkwing's attention, distracting him from this horrifying vision. It was Steelbeak, slowly and tensely walking down the street. His eyes were predatorily focused on Roberto, Javert and Amelia, and was too fixated on them that he payed no attention to the masked mallard.

"Steelbeak, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Darkwing yelled inwardly. "That's suicide!"



Chapter Two: The Calm Before the Storm

Steelbeak walked right past Darkwing as if he was in a trance. His mind was elsewhere, slowly and dangerously spinning into insanity. The agent had not even seemed to have noticed Amelia, the person whom he feared more than anything in the world. Nor did he take notice of Javert, who no more than a year ago, had nearly taken his life. Everyone but Roberto was invisible in his blind fury. The pure hatred in his eyes made the otherwise suave rooster look demonic.

A shiver of terror ran down Darkwing's spine. He could almost feel the tension build up inside Steelbeak, and wisely chose to stay in hiding. Sure, he had a temper, but never anything to this extent. Something was wrong with him, and he wanted to know about it.

"Either Steelbeak's gone mad or this is his Negaverse counterpart!" He quietly said to himself, watching the F.O.W.L agent's every move.

Body taut with rage, Steelbeak approached the trio from behind. In one quick, stealthy move he seized his father by the neck and pulled him away from the rest of the group.

Darkwing was beginning finally realizing the entire situation. Normally he'd jump in and break up such an attack, but in this case, he decided to let the villains duke it out. There were more invet

"Let's settle down an' 'ave a real father and son talk!" Steelbeak sneered, thrashing his father violently to the ground while the others jumped back in shock.

"I'll show youse who is unwoithy of bein' a Volatili!"

"This is only the calm before the storm, son!" Roberto gasped for breath, flailing and trying to push off his attacker. "Only cowards attack from behind!"

"Only cowards walk out on deir families!" Steelbeak seethed, tightening the grip on his throat. "Imagine youse, a sleazy lawyer.It fits youse so well, father!"

"I spent four and a half years in law school for this job, Valentino!" Roberto retorted, spitting him in the face just like he did forty years ago.

Steelbeak hissed in disgust, letting go to wipe the saliva off his face.

"Unlike you who just walked into the doors if F.O.W.L and joined a criminal organization!" Roberto growled, clenching his teeth.

"YOUSE 'AVE NO IDEA!" Steelbeak roared, slamming him against the sidewalk. "IF IT'S DE LAST T'ING I'LL DO, I'LL KILL YOUSE!"

"And ultimately winding up in deathrow!" Roberto added calmly, using his last strength to finally shove his assailant off. "I must say, the mask was an improvement. You don't look like the bell ringer of Notre Dame anymore but it doesn't hide the fack that you you're nothing more than a bastard son!"

"How dare youse walk out on de family when youse were needed most! Maybe if youse stayed t'ings wouldn't be like dey were!" Steelbeak yelled, reaching a hand into his jacket for a gun.

"Just a moment, Steel-For-Brains!" Darkwing shouted, arrogantly marching over to the crowd. "If anyone has to take care of these scumbags it'll be me, Darkwing Duck!"

"Scumbags?!" Amelia gasped, stepping back and helplessly watching her husband getting attacked. Fearing Darkwing would not believe her, she quickly thought up a believable lie.

"We were only out walking when this maniac attacked my husband!"

"He came out of nowhere!" Javert flustered. "I thought it would be nice to take my mother and father out for a walk. I suppose no neighbourhood is safe from the likes of thugs!"

"In your dreams, Javert!" Darkwing scoffed.

"I'm telling you, that's what happened!" Amelia

"Just who do you think are trying to fool?" Darkwing asked, twirling his gas gun with one finger and keeping a careful eye on her. "Trust me, I know what's going on with this!"

"And how would you know?" Javert asked suspiciously, placing his hands on his hips. "Have you been . . . Following us?"

"Lets just say I've been doing my research!" Darkwing said as a matter of factly, boldly approaching Steelbeak and calmly placed a hand on his shoulder. A split second later, he pulled it back as a flash of metal came viciously snapping at him.

"Well excuse me for trying to save your neck!" Darkwing gasped, raising an eyebrow. "You sure have a funny way of showing gratitude!"

"Don't youse dare interfere wit' dis, Dipwing!" Steelbeak yelled, trembling in anger. "Dis fight is between my father and me! Youse don't wanna 'elp me. Youse only wanna arrest me fer attacking an so-called innocent bystander!"

"That isn't true, Steelbeak . . . " Darkwing replied sincerely with a nod. "This time, I'm letting you go."

"Let him go? I demand you arrest him! The only place for filth like this is in jail!" Javert snapped, giving Roberto's attacker a well-aimed hard kick to the lower jaw.

Steelbeak's head was sent reeling back from impact. He involuntarily released his father as a sharp pain shot through what was left of his deformed, metal-encased natural beak. Grimacing painfully, he unsteadily got up onto his feet and drunkenly threw a punch at Roberto, whom Darkwing had just handcuffed.

Suddenly, a cloud of smoke surrounded Javert, and Steelbeak laughed in spite of himself. "Soives ya right ya moidering traitor!"

"Long time, no see, Valentino . . . " Amelia spoke coldly, approaching her son with an icy stare. Her left hand was raised and ready to strike. "What a charming little family-get together this has turned out to be. You even brought along a friend!" She added, scowling at Darkwing.

"Mother . . . ?" Steelbeak asked fearfully, slowly turning around.

The smoulder in his eyes vanished as anger was replaced with sheer terror. He cringed like a beaten child and looked around nervously. It had been many years since Amelia had threatened to strike him, but the memories stayed vivid. At the sound of a police siren, he panicked more.

"I see nothing's changed much!" She continued, circling Steelbeak threateningly. "You're still an ugly, cowering creature without a single redeeming feature!"

Without saying another word, Steelbeak fled.

"Wait, Steelbeak . . . !" Darkwing yelled, chasing after him and leaving the others behind.



Chapter Three: On the Run

Javert took advantage of Darkwing's absence and with one shot of his revolver, he freed Roberto from his handcuffs.

"I've never heard of that Darkwing Duck individual. If he crosses my path again, I will take care of him just like I'll take care of that good-for-nothing Steelbeak!" Javert snarled, slipping the gun back into his navy jacket. "I would not be the least bit surprised if he was a crooked cop. There's a lot of them in this city it seems."

"Thank you, Javert," Roberto muttered, rubbing his wrists and scowling at the city's horizon. "Darkwing Duck is a vigilante. He's a bumbling fool, but supposedly the greatest crime fighter in St. Canard. He knows what we're up to, and damn it all!"

Amelia watched with disdain as a police cruiser sped by. "That vehicle is going in Valentino's direction. If it's him they're after, they're going to get him before we do." She clenched her teeth and furrowed her silver eyebrows.

"Not the fate I want him to suffer!"

"Not if we get there first!" Roberto grinned evilly, placing an arm around his wife and lighting a cigarette. "We'll get our way, old girl!"

Four blocks away, Steelbeak was running like he never knew he could. Tailing behind him was Darkwing in his Ratcatcher, and just down the street were four police cars heading his way. It was then that it dawned on him that the commotion that went on had not gone unnoticed. In desperation, he ran down a rat-infested, garbage-strewn alleyway and unintentionally trapped himself more.

"They old running-through-the-alleyway trick won't work for me, Steelbeak!" Darkwing announced proudly, stepping into the alleyway with the Ratcatcher parked against the wall of a warehouse. "I know your slippery, sleazy ways all too well!"

At the other end of the alleyway were two police officers, one of which had a formidable German Shepherd at the end of a leather leash.

"Police, freeze!" The K-9 Officer ordered while the other removed a baton from her belt. "Surrender quietly or we'll release the dog!"

"What de . . . ?" Steelbeak stood his ground, looking over at Darkwing with a betrayed, hurt expression. "Youse said you were gonna help me out on dis!"

"Well I was, until you blatantly refused my offer!" Darkwing angrily replied, crossing his arms. "Take him away."

As the officers came forward, Steelbeak's eyes darted about frantically, looking around for any possible escape routes. He saw that there were no police officers standing behind Darkwing and thought if he could push him aside, he could make a run for it. By doing so, he'd risk getting bitten by the dog and the possibility of running into police awaiting for him at the corner of the buildings. With those risks, however, came the possibility of freedom.

"Who said an old agent can't learn new tricks?" Steelbeak asked wryly, shoving the purple-suited duck aside and running away laughing. "Hasta la vistas, suckahs!"

"Hey, watch it! I just took this suit to the dry cleaner's!" Darkwing griped, straightening out the creases in his cape.

"Get him, Ricardo, get him!" The K-9 officer yelled, releasing the dog and giving chase alongside his fellow officer.

A moment later, Darkwing took off in his Ratcatcher. Suddenly remembering about handcuffing Roberto, he decided to let the police deal with Steelbeak for the moment. The others needed to be caught, and if possible, interrogated.

The motorcycle slowly came to a stop as the headlights revealed the discarded handcuffs. Darkwing stepped off his seat and picked them up, noticing that they had been cut in half. He concluded that they had been shot and decided to drive off further into the city to look for the escapee. Luckily, Darkwing would get to the Trigger-Happy Trio -- Roberto, Javert and Amelia -- before anyone would be killed.

"Oh no you don't!" He exclaimed, spotting Javert run across a busy intersection.

A puff of blue smoke startled the fleeing villain. He took a step back, waving the smoke away from his face.

"What is this, some sort of magic trick? Get out of my way!"

"I am the terror that flaps in the night! I am the weather report that interrupts your favorite show! I am Darkwiiiing Duck!" The caped crusader announced dramatically as the cloud of smoke began to clear. "Stand back or suck gas!"

"My, my, my, must we all end this in gunplay?" Javert sneered, shoving the end of his gun at Darkwing's forehead. "Were's your psychotic rooster pal when you need him?"

"He is NOT a friend!" Darkwing flustered nervously while noticing the huge backup of cars along the road. With a single web-kick to the gut, he was able to dislodge the weapon from Javert's hands and ran off with it.

"Catch me if you can, foolish fiend!" He shouted joyfully, almost childishly skipping down the sidewalk with the enraged gunman hot on his heels.

Just as Darkwing had hoped, this attracted the attention of Roberto. He casually strolled past the angered Javert, and roughly snatched him by the collar of his jacket.

"Did you kill Valentino?!" He demanded with a frenzied, evil grin. "Or Steelbeak, whatever you want to call that worthless piece of garbage that I refuse to call a son!"

"Killed him? Of course not!" Javert snarled, with slight nervousness as he tried to wiggle himself free Roberto's powerful grasp. "I saw him pepper spraying a police dog and he dashed off again!"

"I knew I should've trusted you!" Roberto growled, punching the other scoundrel right between his eyes. With a grin, he snatched a wad of money out of Javert's coat pocket and slipped it in his wallet. "I think after your failure I expect to be allowed to have my money back!"

Suddenly, he found himself once again handcuffed by the daring Darkwing Duck. "What's the meaning of this?!"

"The villains can run, but they can't hide from Darkwing Duck!" He replied smugly, handcuffing Javert and dusting off his hands.

"Yep, yep, yup. I win again!"

Steelbeak watched the entire scene from around the corner of a clothing store. He was practically brimming with joy as he watched his father, along with Javert, being taken away in a police cruiser. Having eluded the authorities after a two-hour merry chase, he was more than quite pleased with himself. For the moment, Steelbeak was a free bird.

"Well, Pop, it looks like yas got what was comin' to ya!"



Chapter Four: Interrogation

Back at the police station, Darkwing Duck sat alone in a sterile room containing Javert and Roberto. His temper growing short, he just wanted to get to the bottom of this and head back home for a good night's sleep. Unknown to Steelbeak's stalkers, the entire conversation was secretly being recorded into a specialized lie detector attached inside the interrogator's jacket sleeve.

"I was there when Steelbeak attacked you, Mr. Volatili, and I agree, it was a vicious attack, but I must ask you this - - "

"Ask away!" Roberto interrupted defensively, avoiding eye contact.

"How can I be certain that you aren't really plotting the death of your son?" Darkwing asked, getting up to circle the table.

"Plotting the death of my son? Don't be ridiculous!" Roberto replied quickly, his voice acidic. "Don't you dare question my ways. My family means the whole world to me. I would never in my life even raise a hand to my son, let alone kill any of them!" His angered tone softened somewhat, he looked down sadly at the ground.

"My sons are precious, and ever since Antonio's death they've been even closer to me. Valentino disappeared years ago after a car accident that nearly took his life, and I never saw him again. I left the family because I felt I was a bad father. If I stayed, I may have snapped."

"Interesting . . . " Darkwing murmured, not believing the seedy lawyer's sincerity. He quickly looked into his sleeve to look for a green light that would indicate lying. It was red, meaning that what the accused had said was true.

"Do you not believe him?" Javert said in an accused tone, suspiciously watching him pace around.

"I can't decide if I can!" Darkwing scoffed arrogantly, hands folded back as he continued to pace. "I listened to half of that conversation!"

Growing weary of his incessant questioning, Javert pounded a fist on the table. "That conversation was part of an acting class! Roberto and I are studying to become actors!"

Darkwing raised an eyebrow. "You also said you were just out for a regular stroll around the neighbourhood!"

"That was only part of it!" Roberto muttered, rubbing his temples. "We were on the way to the theater when this metal-beaked monster came up from behind and assaulted me, totally unprovoked!"

"Then why did you not step in to intervene?" Javert sniped. "Or are you taking Steelbeak's side?"

"I'm not taking ANYONE'S side!" Darkwing gasped, taken aback. "I wouldn't take that larceny-loving, power-hungry poultry's side if I was paid a million dollars!"

With another check of the lie detector, he sighed in defeat. By instruction of a prison guard, he was ordered to leave the facility and did so in a huff. All was not lost, for Darkwing had one more thing to do, and that was to find Steelbeak before the police would.

Meanwhile, the wild rooster chase was coming to an end. After spending the entire night running from the law, Steelbeak was nearing exhaustion. The veteran king of the villains had heard the wailing of sirens, but this time, this sound did not frighten him.

As he calmly made his way back to his parked convertible, Steelbeak suddenly found himself surrounded by a squad of police cars. This left with no other choice but to surrender, but he would not let himself be taken down easily. Although tired, Steelbeak still had some energy left to fight for his freedom.

"Who d'ya t'ink I am, some sorta mass moiderer?!" He shrieked, raising an arm to shield his eyes from the bright headlights.

"If anyt'ing, I'm da victim 'ere!"

"Keep your hands above your head!" Commanded an officer, stepping out of his vehicle with a pair of handcuffs. "You have the right to remain silent!"

"NEVER!" Steelbeak snapped in defiance, curling the corners of his beak back in an ugly snarl. "Youse 'ave no right to do dis ta me! I'm innacent!"

"You're about as innocent as Negaduck on a bad day!" The chief scoffed, motioning his fellow officers to arrest him.

Steelbeak cursed in Italian and thrashed about violently as five burly policemen tried to restrain him. He bit two as they attempted to handcuff him and swiftly kicked another in the groin. Three down, another two to go.

"I guess it's two for tango, eh?" He laughed, keeping his eyes the remaining two and fought them off once more as they tried to subdue him once more.

Three more policemen got out of their vehicles and tackled Steelbeak to the ground. He fought back, but not nearly as savagely as before. The largest of the three placed a knee against his broad back and forced his head to the ground, keeping a firm grip on the scruff of his neck. As he squirmed, the smallest of the officers slapped the handcuffs on the wrists and assisted the others to get him back onto his feet. For safety, a rather heavy and macabre iron muzzle was placed over his beak to prevent further biting.

"Take him away!" The chief ordered, pointing to an armoured police truck. "A night or two in jail will cool down those nasty nerves!"

Steelbeak planted his feet firmly into the ground and surged ahead, only to be roughly pulled back. He tried to thrash his head to one side, hoping to knock out at least one of the officers. However, the muzzle was too heavy and he scowled bitterly as he felt himself tire out.

"I'm afraid there's no other option, Mr. Steelbeak!" Muttered an officer who was keeping a firm grip on his right arm. "In you go . . . "

With a deep sigh, Steelbeak closed his eyes and accepted the fact that he had lost another battle.



Chapter Five: Endless Night

After ensuring Gosalyn was doing fine back home, Darkwing Duck continued to scour the city for Steelbeak. He checked the rouge rooster's usual late-night hangouts; the Old Haunt, the nightclub, even the local theaters. Nothing. Not even a blonde, silver-tipped feather smelling of English Feather cologne. After a three-hour search that lasted until the wee hours of the morning, he reluctantly decided to call it quits and try again tomorrow morning.

The mallard did not sleep well that night. Tossing and turning repeatedly, he finally got to bed at two in the morning. Once again, it would not be a peaceful sleep, for there was nightmare after nightmare. The chilling thoughts of Roberto and Amelia laughing at their son's planned demise came back to haunt him.

"What the . . . ? !" Drake gasped, suddenly jumping up on the mattress and looking around nervously with beads of cold sweat dripped down his worry-lined forehead. "Just a dream . . . " He muttered once more before settling back to bed.

At the St. Canard Penitentiary, Steelbeak remained sullenly calm as three armed guards twice his size walked him toward his cell. The heavy muzzle kept him from saying unrepeatable things, but the sight of Javert sneering at him from behind the bars sent his blood boiling. He lunged toward him and desperately tried to push the heavyset bulldogs aside.

"Move on, move on!" Barked the third guard, dragging Steelbeak down toward the last cell at the end of the row. "The sooner you get in, the better!"

Javert emitted a closed mouth chuckle and smiled smugly at the rooster's predicament. "My, my, my, look at what the bulldogs have dragged in!"

Adjacent from his cell was Roberto, whom was looking on with aloof amusement. He knew that he soon be out of jail and back to his scheming ways before long. As tempting as it was to utter an insult to his son, he held his tongue and smirked. "Indeed, Javert. I knew eventually my son's anger would one day get the best of him!"

"If you ask me, they should've put him in the stocks . . . " Javert muttered, crossing his arms. "Better yet, the death penalty!"

Once the muzzle and handcuffs were removed, the guards shoved Steelbeak into the cell and quickly shut the gate. He paced around for a moment in frustration before repeatedly banging his head against the cell's wall. "I knew I shouldda got away when I could've!"

"What's done was done, Valentino!" Roberto said coldly, sitting at the edge of the cot-like bed and mentally counting the number of times he heard a metallic clang against the bricks. "You got yourself into this mess by just being born!"

"T'anks fer de reminder, dad!" Steelbeak rumbled, hitting his head against the wall one last time. "Maybe if mom kept 'er legs closed and youse got snipped I wouldn't be 'ere ta make yer life a livin' misery!"

Realizing what his son had just said, Roberto fell silent. What he said was true, and realizing this, his smug smile turned into a morose scowl. "You may be right there, but you certainly cannot blame everything that happened to you on your parents. It was your choice to hang with the wrong crowd, and it was your fault those two people were killed that one winter's night!"

"Well t'anks fer bringin' dat up!" Steelbeak replied sarcastically, grimacing painfully at the memories of the accident. "It's a damn shame I'm not in da same cell as youse! I'd beat youse so 'ard dere wouldn't be anyt'ing left!"

"Don't play smartass with me, lowlife!" Roberto roared. "I can kill you with my own bare hands!"

"I'd really like ta see yas try!" Steelbeak shouted back daringly.

"Don't tempt me!"

"Would you two knobs stop arguing and let me get some sleep?" Negaduck yelled, his gravelly voice echoing through the hall. "Like father, like son . . . "

"I refuse to call him my son . . . " Roberto grumbled, looking over toward the direction of Public Enemy Number Two. "This thing they call Steelbeak is no more welcome into my life than a mosquito. Just like that parasite, I will crush him under my fist!"

"I must tell you ol' metal-mouth is much more powerful than you'd think," warned a random prisoner. "He threw a good buddy of mine through a window and ended up in hospital for five months."

"Him? Hah! He's nothing but a sissy . . . " Negaduck scoffed. "I could take care of that overgrown marshmallow Easter Peep with one finger!"

"Well who's de one who's afraid of bunnies?" Steelbeak rolled his eyes and chuckled slightly.

"Looks like our way to freedom is just around the corner!" Javert spoke in a sing-songy tone, watching a guard pass by with a ring of keys around his belt.

"You're a free man, Mr. Volatili," the guard spoke, unlocking Roberto's cell, and then moving towards Javert's.

"You as well, Mr. Adair."

"How could dis be . . . ?" Steelbeak wondered out loud, raising an eyebrow watching the entire situation from the corner of his cell. Once the coast was clear, he clamped his jaws around the bars of his cell and began to gnaw, knowing from experience that freedom was only a few quick bites away. His urge to escape overrode a sizzling, burning sensation to the rooster's softer mouth tissues.

Suddenly, Steelbeak jumped back with a scream. He had been electrocuted, and a few seconds later, his tongue was bleeding. The other prisoners laughed at his mishap and he silently cursed them.

"Gah . . . What de 'ell?"

Further inspection revealed tiny hot wires that were taped against the jail bars so that the metal-biting bird wouldn't get out so easily as he had in the past. The Penitentiary seemed to have smartened up, he thought. Engraged, Steelbeak tore at the wires with his hands and ended up electrocuting himself again. He tried two more times, but with no successl.

Defeated, Steelbeak flopped onto the bed and hid his face with a pillow in humiliation. How dare dey release my father and dat madman Javert and not me! How DARE dey degrade me like dis!



Chapter Six: The Deal

Drake Mallard groggily drank down what was left of his coffee and switched on the radio. He flipped through the paper, trying to find out anything about last night's events and grumpily tossed it aside when he couldn't find anything about it. The front page read "Peregrine Press Opens its 10th Location."

"I can't believe it!"

"Can't believe what, dad?" Gosalyn asked, poking her head into the kitchen's door frame.

Drake let out a sigh and motioned toward the paper. "Not a single article about what went on between Steelbeak and his troubles with the Trigger-Happy Trio!"

"Are you sure you're reading today's paper?" Gosalyn asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, Gos. Apparently the opening of Peregrine Press was more newsworthy!"

"If you don't mind me asking . . . What exactly went on yesterday, dad?"

Drake opened his bill to explain. "Well - - "

"Master criminal Steelbeak is now sitting behind electrified bars after assaulting an elderly man!" The radio news reporter announced with urgency. "The attack was reported to be unprovoked when the infamous F.OW.L agent, long known for his extensive criminal record, came out of nowhere and attempted to strangle seventy year-old Roberto Volatili as he was out for a neighbourhood walk. The veteran lawyer was slightly shaken but otherwise not hurt in the incident."

"Slightly shook? What a shame . . . " Drake muttered sarcastically. "I know everything that went on. I can't see how those fiends managed to go slip through that lie detector!"

"Well, between you and me I think Steelbeak's got a few screws loose," Gosalyn shrugged indifferently, sitting in front of Drake and sipping a glass of orange juice. "I mean, why else would they place him behind *electrified* bars? Seems like something you'd expect in Jurassic Park! That guy is a psycho!"

"Your right, Gos, but let me explain," Drake nodded with a slight chuckle. "You see, Roberto and Amelia, Steelbeak's parents, paid a madman by the name of Javert to gun him down. I'm not sure why. That's what I'm trying to piece together. Apparently it didn't go unnoticed by the rogue rooster and he decided to take measures into his own hands."

Gosalyn had always disliked Steelbeak, especially when she was a young child, but at the same time, she couldn't help but to feel bad for him at this moment.

"What are you going to do about it?"

"I'm going to get him out is what I'm going to do!" Drake answered confidently, his chest slightly puffed out.

"And when I'm done that, I'll place the real culprits involved in this in their rightful place!"

At the St. Canard Penitentiary, Steelbeak sat slouched up on the cot with his back turned toward his cell's gate. Still sore from the electric shock, his miserable state was made worse when he heard that the person who practically assisted in his arrest would come by to visit.

"Someone is here to visit you, Mr. Steelbeak," a guard spoke in a gruff tone. Standing behind was Darkwing, slightly annoyed but otherwise calm.

"Tell 'em ta get lost . . . "

"Do you want to get out of this place or do you not?" The guard asked. "I could care less either way. One less villain off the streets, but one less villain that needs to be fed."

"Of course I want out!" Steelbeak scoffed, slowly turning around. "What kinda stupid question is dat? I should sue youse fer unlawful arrest!"

"Beating elderly citizens is no way to solve family problems," The guard mumbled, walking off as he heard a group of inmates yell some rather non-Disney words.

"Worse comes to worse, try counseling! It worked for the problems I had between my next-door neighbour and I."

"If youse knew what I've been t'rough you'd know dat my actions were valid," Steelbeak growled, turning his back away. "What I did was no woise den what 'e did. Counseling won't do a damn good t'ing! If anyt'ing, it'll jus' make t'ings woise."

"I know, for once I'll agree with you . . . " Darkwing spoke awkwardly, finding it difficult to comprehend the fact that the debonair villain had lead a difficult life. "They were trying to kill you, and you had every right to be mad at them. You just took it a little too far."

"Jus leave me alone . . . " Steelbeak murmured dejectedly. "Why do youse insist on tryin' to help me out? Dere's not a t'ing youse could do fer me now. "

"Wrong again!" Darkwing said assuredly, putting his hands on his hips. "I just this moment dropped off more evidence to prove your innocence, and I've come here to bail you out."

Steelbeak's metallic jaw practically fell to the ground when he heard the mention of innocence. He slowly turned around and looked down at Darkwing, not with arrogance this time, but with sheer confoundment. Innocence was certainly not one of the words that the daring do-gooder used for him, and he was suspicious. Maybe it was a trick, maybe it wasn't.

"Me . . . Innacent?"

"I'm only letting you go this time," Darkwing said firmly. "I mean it. You certainly aren't a saint but you're more innocent than that rotten Roberto and his petty pack of pretentious predators!"

"Although I can't say much fer Javert, my parents were both poifectly fine before I was born," Steelbeak muttered, clenching his fists. He trudged toward the small window that looked out across the Audubon River.

"Maybe if I was born normal . . . Maybe if I wasn't born at all . . . Maybe if . . . "

"You can't stay in the past . . . " Darkwing sighed, shaking his head. "I know it's hard, I went to the same school as you did. I know what you went through, but it's what's causing all this trouble. Just let me try and work something out."

Steelbeak stared blankly at the ground and shrugged his shoulders. "Youse kin try, but yer jus' wastin' yer time."

"I can't promise you anything, but I'll certainly do what I can!" Darkwing said optimistically. "I am Darkwing Duck after all, and thus, I can think up well made plans faster than you can say Missouri!"

"Dere's a catch to it, right?" Steelbeak asked, pacing back and forth and only stopped when he became dizzy.

"Well, yes . . . "

"Well, I t'ought so," Steelbeak mumbled. "I mean, it's not ev'ry day when a crime fighter helps his villains out in tough situations."

"You must promise to NEVER, EVER threaten my daughter!" Darkwing no-nonsense-ly replied. Then, bravely, he carefully placed a hand through the bars in hope of an agreement.

"Deal?"

Steelbeak rolled his eyes at the mention of Gosalyn. She was always constantly in his way, and more than once had ruined a mission. Yet, his freedom meant more to him and with a small smile he shook Darkwing's hand.

"A deal's a deal!"



Chapter Seven: Uncertainty

It had been five months since Steelbeak had a run in with the Trigger-Happy Trio and was subsequently sent to jail. As the day for his release approached, he felt an edge of uncertainty. He felt an odd sort of comfort in his cell; Javert wasn't there pointing a gun to his head and Amelia and Roberto wasn't there bringing up abusive accusations and memories of a painful past. Yet, Steelbeak desperately sought freedom, even if it did mean allowing his nemesis - - and his daughter - - to help him.

"I do not make friends wit' my enemies," Steelbeak muttered to his cell mate, a scruffy badger named Tyson whose convictions were practically as long as the Audubon Bay Bridge. "I suppose dere's woise t'ings out dere dat could 'appen to me, but I

"You don't know what you want to do with yourself, do you?" Tyson asked, reading through a horror novel titled Nightmare on Jay Street. He placed a bookmark in it and plopped it down on the ground, seemingly more interested in trying to reason with the rooster.

"Look, I never said you had to make friends with the git. I only said it's purely ridiculous to say you would prefer to stay in here than to be a free bird. Word of mouth has it that you wanted out so much you bloody well almost cauterized yer bloomin' tongue off to get out. Didn't work mind you, but heck, must've been worth it. Poor, crazy messed up bloke . . . "

Steelbeak ignored Tyson's comments and looked out the barred window, the waning sun reflecting onto his beak. Soaring across the edge of the river was an eagle, giving him a reminder of what it would like to be truly free.

"Must be nice being a F.O.W.L agent," Tyson chuckled. "Nice posh apartment, nice big paychecks and all them pretty ladies to flirt with. Not to mention, being paid for just being a villain! Sure beats being a run of the mill thug."

"Eh, it's not all what it's cracked up ta be," Steelbeak indifferently shrugged his shoulders. "Sure youse get dat stuff, but its rat'er like bein' stuck in 'ere. Ya don't 'ave much in de way of freedom because ya got stupid Eggmen ta deal wit' and evil overlords 'igh Command breathin' down yer neck! Dey're woise den Negaduck on a bad day."

"I heard that . . . " Negaduck growled, his gravelly voice sending a chill down Steelbeak's spine. "I will not be compared to a bunch of shadow puppets!"

"Speaking of the devil . . . " The English badger scoffed, returning back to his reading. "Ya gotta be careful of what you say in here because everyone hears everything."

Steelbeak let out a groan and mumbled something incoherent. He stepped away from the window and paced around for the up tenth time, trying to think of a good reason why Darkwing would want to help him. Was it out of pity? Was it to make himself look good? Surely Darkwing, with his ego the size of a small planet, wouldn't waste his time helping a villain.

"'I get out tomorrow . . . "

"Consider yourself lucky. I still have to stay here for another year!" Tyson said in a half-laugh. "Still uncertain, are you?"

"Not anymore. I'm gonna step right outta dis place like I own de woild!" Steelbeak lied, but Tyson fell for it.

By next morning, Darkwing Duck was all set and ready to go to jail. All that was needed was to invite Gosalyn with him. After all, if Steelbeak agreed to not harm her, then what was the harm in letting her come along? Worse comes to worse, he could always put his Quack Fu skills to good use.

"Look, Gos, what would you say if I asked you to come along with me on a quick trip to the prison?"

"Sure! What for?" She asked, her green eyes alight with curiosity and excitement. "Do we get to interrogations?"

"Ohhhh . . . Let's just say we're visiting with an old friend!" Drake answered, giving her a cuddle. "Listen, I know how you feel about Steelbeak - - "

The very mention of the rooster's name had nearly caused Gosalyn to change her decision. She viewed Steelbeak as a contemptible creature that was best kept locked away behind bars. "Well, I suppose there's worse people out there."

"You said it, Gosalyn."

Steelbeak was still sleeping by the time the two had arrived at the penitentiary. Bravely, Gosalyn approached his cell and spoke to him softly. It had been many years since the two had seen each other. Darkwing stood behind her protectively and didn't let his eyes off the prisoner, just in case he had changed his mind about the deal.

Hearing Gosalyn's voice, Steelbeak slowly stirred out from his sleep and looked up at her. In his weariness, he mistook her for an old girlfriend and he smiled warmly.

"Janette McQuest?" He asked softly, holding out his hand. "What made ya decide ta come down to visit ol' Steels, hon?"

Gosalyn smiled and held back a laugh, slightly amused by his confusion. "No . . . It's me, Gosalyn. Remember that girl in the pigtails who used to bug the heck outta ya?"

Steelbeak's smile turned to a slight scowl in disappointment. He smacked himself in the face and pretended to not act embarrassed about the mix-up between Gosalyn and the ex-girlfriend who left him for a "beakless mutant".

"Ehhh . . . Don't mind me. Mid-life crisis, ya know."

"Yeah, I know how ya feel about that, " Darkwing laughed slightly. "Anyway, ready to get out of here? Five minutes in here's bad enough, let alone five months!"

Steelbeak nodded quickly and took a step back as a guard came around to unlock his cell. His release was like a surreal dream and he hesitantly stepped out.

"I . . . I dunno what to say . . . " He spoke in a humbled tone, retreating back into the cell and looking around nervously.

"A simple thanks would be good enough," Gosalyn replied, crossing her arms with annoyance. "Or would that put a dent in your ego?"

"Gosalyn!" Darkwing hissed under his breath.

"T'anks fer everyt'ing youse done over de past few months," Steelbeak finally answered with newfound confidence, yet still staying behind bars. "I gotta say, yer a crazy duck fer lettin' go a criminal who's got more den sixty convictions under 'is belt!"

"My duty is to protect my citizens, whether or not they are larceny-loving lunatics or carefree children!" Darkwing explained proudly as if given an award.

"Okay, okay, I'm goin', I'm goin'!" Steelbeak complained, picking himself off the ground after Tyson gave him a kick to the rear to get moving.

Darkwing felt uncomfortable about bringing a villain to his house, but it was the safest place for Steelbeak to be at the moment. Even safer than the Darkwing Tower, which Javert knew the location of.



Chapter Eight: The Hunt

"If I catch you sneaking anything, I'll put you back in jail so fast your head will be spinning!" Darkwing warned Steelbeak as he opened the door to let him and Gosalyn inside.

Steelbeak merely shrugged indifferently and rolled his eyes. Darkwing's home was just as he had expected; nothing fancy, but not exactly a warehouse hideout. He laid his eyes on a couple of framed newspaper articles and clicked his tongue against the roof of his beak, sarcastically impressed by the vigilante's successions.

"So . . . Eh . . . Dese are yer trophies? Pretty good considerin' youse only done dis fer twenny years!"

"T'yeah! ," Gosalyn exclaimed, settling down into a blue armchair next to a statue of Basil of Baker Street.

"Of course they're my trophies!" Darkwing flusteredly replied, motioning for Steelbeak to take a seat on a jade-coloured couch. You think I'd keep newspaper clippings that were centered around Gizmoduck? Sit down before you hurt yourself."

Gosalyn sighed and crossed her arms impatiently. "Now that we dragged the jailbird out of the cage, can we just get to the planning?"

"We're getting to it, Gos - - "

"I still say it would be best ta let me take care of 'im!" Steelbeak snidely interrupted, the feathers at the back of his neck raised with agitation. "All I was gonna do was remove a coupla lowlifes from de gene pool. I'm pretty soiten nobody would miss 'em!"

"Steelbeak, Steelbeak, Steelbeak . . . " Darkwing sighed, wearily massaging his temples. "We're going in circles here again . . . "

"Like I said, yer wastin' yer time!" Steelbeak groaned, sitting in a slouched up position.

"I am not!" Darkwing snapped, standing up and marching over to him boldly. "And what would it matter if I'm wasting my time or not? My duty is to protect the city's inhabitants, and if that means I have to protect the villains from other villains, then so be it! I've helped Megavolt a few times, so why are you any different?"

Gosalyn got up and stood defiantly by her father's side. "Dad, don't waste your breath on him. If he wants to get into trouble again, let him."

Steelbeak fell silent and looked across the room with a blank stare. When he did finally speak, his voice was cold as his beak.

"Yes . . . Let me! Even if it means being sent to jail, on death row, so be it!"

"I must tell you this once and once only; when I kill Steelbeak, I want to be paid an additional five hundred. Your failure to do this would result in something along the lines of what I'll put him through," Javert warned his companions with all the nastiness he could muster. "Now, that doesn't sound very nice now, does it?"
Amelia and Roberto nodded nervously in agreement. In comparison to their ages, Javert was a mere child but one that needed to be greatly feared. At the age of twenty-one he had claimed the life of three hundred people and they weren't looking to become his three hundred and third victim.

"Good. Now lets go looking for him, shall we?" Javert sneered, leading them to sleek black car he called The Deathtrap. Once inside, they headed toward an upper-class neighbourhood were Steelbeak owned an Italian style mansion overlooking the Audubon Bay.

"Here we go . . . " Roberto cooed, spotting the elaborately designed establishment enclosed in a iron fence on 24601 Jaybird Avenue.

"Stay here!" Javert hissed as he parked the car at the corner of the street. "It looks as if we have our fox right at his den!"

To his disappointment, Steelbeak was not at home. However, Javert was a patient duck, and he would return.

"He must be at F.O.W.L HQ. Get us there!" Amelia demanded with an evil glint in her eyes. "I want my son to suffer!"

"Patience, my dear, patience!" Javert exclaimed, grinning broadly and placing his handgun back inside his trench coat. "We will return at night. By then, he should be back. "

"Don't you mean, will be back?" Roberto asked, once again losing his trust on the sniper. "When he does return, I don't want you to just put a bullet in his head and be done with it. To hell with clean kills, I want his death to be a as bloody and painful as possible!"

"No need to repeat yourselves," Javert assured as he started up the car. Before he took off, he looked back at his companions with a smirk. "Do you not trust me? I am a professional at cruelty!"

"If you say what you are, tell us the plans you have," Amelia spoke slowly and calmly.

"Arsenic laced bullets, madame!" Javert replied joyously. "Only one bullet is needed to kill him. Trust me, there will be blood and suffering."

"With only one bullet?!" Roberto exclaimed, clenching his fists. "Don't be absurd! My son is huge! One bullet cannot kill him, arsenic laced or not!"

"Do not question my ways!" Javert snapped, instantly silencing the old rooster. "You are right, he's a big guy, but one bullet will do the trick. You see, left untreated, it'll take him approximately three to four hours to die. Very painfully, I must add. Internal bleeding is a very sore way to go."

"But what if he does go for treatment?" Amelia asked. "He'd be up on his feet in no time and we'll have to go back to square one!"

"Simple. We won't let him go for treatment!" Javert answered excitedly. "We'll lock him in a room for three hours, and we'll go out somewhere. To the theater, perhaps. When we get back, we'll have a dead rooster!"

Back at the Avian Way household, Steelbeak had worked himself up in such a state that Darkwing was forced to slip a sleeping pill in his coffee. It worked, and the rooster was sleeping easy within fifteen minutes.

"Sometimes, Gos, I wish I thought of that back in the days you were bouncing off the wall," Darkwing winked. "Keep watch over him while I'll go out to the grocery store. When he wakes up, he might be a bit disoriented."

Gosalyn let out a small groan and plopped herself down on the chair across from Steelbeak. "If you insist. If he does anything 'funny' I'll just smack him upside the head with

"Thank you, Gosalyn."

Steelbeak dreamt of what his life would be like if he was born a "normal" child. To be loved, respected, treated kindly. Without the deformity, Valentino Volatili -- Steelbeak -- was just another blissful boy in the playground. His parents spoiled him rotten and Darkwing Duck didn't hound him to the ends of the earth. All in all, it was an easy life; one that he should of always had.

As a dare, Gosalyn reached out and touched Steelbeak's beak. He groaned softly in his sleep but otherwise didn't react. She pulled back her hand, anticipating the snap of his deadly jaws but only saw a look of serenity. It was a look she never knew villains could ever have.



Chapter Nine: The Light at The End of The Tunnel

It was well past midnight when the effect of Steelbeak's sleeping pills began to wear off. Awakening with a jolt, he staggered around for a moment in disorientation before sitting back down. Gosalyn, who promised to keep watch on the snoozing scoundrel during her father's absence, was upstairs, watching television in her bedroom.

If there would be any opportunity for Steelbeak to slip out and escape, now would be the time. In spite of his grogginess, he was still manically bent on taking care of The Trigger-Happy Trio his own way. To hell with throwing them in jail; he wanted them dead. Even the chance of being put on death row for their murders did not phase him.

After stealing a few valuables, Steelbeak quietly snuck out the back door. He laughed quietly to himself, mocking the attempts that Darkwing made to assist him with his private affairs.

"Damn it . . . " He growled, ducking behind a car as the bright lights of a motorcycle came into view. Sure enough, it was the Ratcatcher being driven by a very proud but tired Darkwing Duck.

As he stepped into the house, the mallard sensed something just wasn't quite right. Steelbeak was gone, and Gosalyn was also nowhere to be found. Panic struck his heart. The first thing that came to mind was that he kidnaped her and fled. It was something that he had done in the past.

"I knew I shouldn't have left that cowardly criminal here!" Darkwing Duck said in despair, searching around for clues of her disappearance. "I knew I should've left the police go after Ammonia Pine for a change . . . "

The couch was still warm from were Steelbeak was sleeping and there were no signs of any struggle in the room. Darkwing knew he was a calculated criminal and often left very little traces of evidence behind in his crimes.

"GOSALYN?!"

"What?" Gosalyn moaned, lazily slipping out of bed and trudging her way down the stairs. "What's wrong, dad?"

Darkwing sighed with relief and hugged Gosalyn, tightly, nearly cutting off her circulation. "Thank heavens you're safe!"

"But . . . What's wrong?" Gosalyn asked, hugging her distraught dad and trying to gasp for breath at the same time.

"Is there something I should be concerned about?"

"I thought that scum Steelbeak took you and ran off while I was gone!" Hexplained, catching his breath. Clearning his throat, he returned to his usual confident, cocky self. "Of course I knew you'd fight back and probably defeat him, but it' a dad's duty to ensure his young are safe!"

"I kept watch over him as long as I could but then I started to drift off," Gosalyn replied truthfully. "I didn't know how long those sleeping pills lasted! He looked so peaceful lying there so I thought I'd use that opportunity to go to bed."

"Not to worry, Gos. I know why he's gone and I know were he's gone!" Darkwing answered confidently. Without a moment to loose, he was back out on the Ratcatcher with Gosalyn alongside him in the sidecar.

"Man oh man does dat guy ever sleep or does 'e 'ave a clone?" Steelbeak moaned, slipping back behind a building. When he was certain that Darkwing was out of sight, he resumed his hunt for Javert and his associates.

"Looking for someone?" Hissed a hefty cloaked figure, shoving a gun in the center of his back. "Or are ya runnin' from Darkwing Duck again?"

Steelbeak sharply elbowed his attacker in the face and took off, dodging bullets from the enraged thug. The sight of the Ratcatcher came into view again and he dashed inside an abandoned warehouse. Once again, the FOWL fellow escaped from the face of death - - and the law.

"Dat was close . . . "

A block away, stopped at a red light, Darkwing Duck impatiently drummed his fingers on the vehicle's handles. He had caught sight of Steelbeak running across the intersection. "Why is it whenever I'm after a crazed criminal the light always has to change the moment I see them?"

As soon as the light turned, Darkwing turned around the corner at full speed. If he could nab Steelbeak soon, maybe, just maybe there won't be a bloodshed. That is, if there hadn't been one already. Staying optimistic, he had heard the gunfire and dismissed it as a bored punk shooting cans for target practice.

In the warehouse, Steelbeak took to the basement and found it had been occupied recently. There was a desk and three chairs set around it and a filing cabinet. Perhaps the most curious item in the paper-strewn mess was a diagram of well-detailed chicken skull. It included ineligibly written notes in blue ink and an arrow pointing between the eye sockets. At the bottom of the sketch was the initials J.J. Adair.

Without further ado, Steelbeak sat back into one of the chairs and rummaged through the rest of the papers. He calmly concluded that this 'abandoned warehouse' was Javert's hideout and that he would be back soon - - and he would be waiting for him.

At the crack of dawn, Darkwing's search for the now-dangerous Steelbeak continued. The last report of his whereabouts was from a homeless white terrier who had spotted him run into an venerable automobile factory. Finally, there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Someone knew were he was.

"Thank you kind sir!" Darkwing praised in a somewhat arrogant tone, placing a coin in the homeless fellow's begger cup.

"Oh, anytime!" The scruffy terrier replied, looking at the coin in astonishment. "Good luck catching ' him, and thanks for the money!"

"The warehouse district seems such an unlikely place for Steelbeak. I mean, wouldn't he complain about the rats?" Gosalyn asked, looking around at the derelict buildings for any sign of the suave

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, Gosalyn. If my memory serves me, that abandoned warehouse is Javert's hideout!"

For the third time this night, Steelbeak heard the sound of the Ratcatcher echo through the warehouse's crumbling walls. Over the years, he had learned to distinguish it's sound from other motorcycles.

It had been nearly nine hours since he had eaten anything edible and was growing desperate to eat even a rat. Yet, he was unwilling to step out of the warehouse and risk arrest or being lectured by Darkwing Duck. Especially not when he was getting close to winning his revenge on the duck who had nearly taken his life.

As he hunted around for something to eat, Steelbeak heard a soft, timid and recognizable voice call to him.

"Steelbeak? A-Are you there?"



Chapter Ten: The Train Wreck of Thought

"Is dat. youse, Bushroot?" Steelbeak asked, warily poking his head around the corner of the doorframe. He smiled warmly, seeing his plant-duck hybrid friend wave back shyly at him. He saw that he was holding a tupperware container filled with food and hoped that Bushroot was willing to share some of it.

"I-I saw you running around and I thought you might be hungry so I got this out of the fridge in the room upstairs," Bushroot shrugged, handing the container to his old pal. He was lying, for he had been involuntarily hired by Javert and his gang to keep the rooster at bay. Knowing what Steelbeak had gone through in his life, he felt terrible.

"Eat it quickly. Javert will be back soon and if he finds out I've been digging through his stuff he'll kill me! I just know it . . . "

"T'anks!" Steelbeak said with great enthusiasm as he took the food container. "As fer Javert, leave 'im ta me. I ain't afraid of 'im and dere's no reason fer youse ta be, either. Javvy's all show. Just a kid who t'inks he's cool to have a good aim. I gotta good aim, too, but I don't go braggin' about it."

"Y-You're not afraid of him?"

"Not at all," Steelbeak replied with indifference, opening up the food container. "Dere's a coupla t'ings ya need ta know about Javert, and one of dose t'ings is dat he should be de one dat's afraid of me!"

Inside was a half-eaten leftover roast chicken, a boiled potato and a few wilted stalks of celery. Just enough to tide over his hunger.

"Are you going to eat that?" Bushroot asked, pointing a leafed finger at the chicken. "I mean . . . Wouldn't that be cannibal - "

"Of course I'll eat it! ! I don't like ta see good food go to waste!" Steelbeak grinned manically, picking up the chicken and tearing at it like a half-starved vulture. After a few chomps, all that was left were the bones which he crunched with his immense jaw pressure. A few were even swallowed, and he smirked as Bushroot cringed at the macabre noise.

"Jus' gettin' to de marrow, babe!" He gleefully explained, leaving the rest scattered on Javert's desk. He tossed the potato in his mouth and with one chomp it was down his gullet.

"I don't mean to intrude, but . . . Isn't it a bit weird to eat another of your species?" Bushroot asked with the curiosity of a child.

Steelbeak looked at him as if he was from another planet and nibbled on the celery sticks. "I'm a cannibal. Sure it's bizarre, but I'm poifectly comfortable wit' it."

"I'm quite the opposite!" Bushroot laughed nervously, taking a seat on a wooden crate. He looked into Steelbeak's eyes with admiration and wished that he could have his courage and self-pride - - and his good looks, and his money and power. All things he felt he never really had. "I have trouble eating any sort of vegetation, except russets. I'll eat russets!"

"Why russets?"

"Russets are just plain mean!" Bushroot replied cheerfully. He remained unconcerned about the tall, shadowy figure moving about in the hallway and the sound of footsteps that were coming closer which put Steelbeak on the alert.

"Let's just say I've had a couple of unpleasant experiences with them."

"They aren't the only thing that's mean!" Snarled the shadowy figure, stealthily making its way into the room. As it came into the light, both could see it was Javert dressed in a trench coat. "Thank you, Reginald Bushroot for leading Steelbeak right into my trap! I knew I could rely on you someday."

"How could youse?" Steelbeak snapped, backing away from Bushroot and giving him a look that would kill. Gradually his eyes, filled with hate, were softened into an expression of deep betrayal. It had not been the first time he had been stabbed in the back. All his life he knew that it wasn't wise to trust just anyone with pretty eyes and a nice smile.

"I t'ought I could trust youse as a friend!"

"You can . . . "Bushroot said apprehensively, placing a hand on his shoulder and patting him lightly. Just how could he tell him that he was forced at gunpoint to work for Javert? Just how could he say it without sounding like he was lying?

"W-We still are friends Steelbeak . . . I-I was set up for this! Honestly! I know you can't forgive me for this, so don't even try."

"Skip the pleasantries, plant punk!" Javert hissed, violently pulling the botanist away and shoved a 45. Colt to his throat. His

"All good things must come to an end, and I'm afraid this friendship is one of them. Need not to worry. As soon as I dispose of this miserable creature, I'll do what must be done for you, and then you two will be together again in Hell!"

"It was one t'ing when youse tried ta kill me, but when youse go after my friends . . ." Steelbeak growled, seizing Bushroot's assailant by the throat and slamming him against the wall. He snatched the gun from his hands and beat Javert across the side of the head with it until he was knocked out cold.

"Admit it, Javert. I 'ave won again!"

Just as things were getting fun, a cloud of blue smoke appeared in the center of the room. "I am the terror that flaps in the night! I am the animal rights activist that protests at fast food outlets! I am Darkwiiiiing Duck!"

With a yelp, Bushroot dashed behind an annoyed Steelbeak and cringed. "Why does he always have to ruin the fun?" He tugged at the ends of the Armani suit and gulped.

"I didn't do anything this time, Darkwing! I mean it!"

"Well, looks like I got here before there was too much bloodshed!" Darkwing stated arrogantly, placing his hands on his hips and looking down at the unconscious form of Javert. With one sharp look, he sent Bushroot scurrying into another room and unintentionally intensified Steelbeak's train wreck of thought.

"I'll tell you what, Steelbeak. We'll - - "

"What do youse mean 'we'?" Steelbeak asked slowly, grabbing Darkwing by the collar of his jacket and bringing him up to his face. With a rough shake, he dropped him to the ground.

"Dere comes a time when youse gotta let other people settle deir problems wit'out 'aving youse come into de picture. Der are t'ings dat youse cannot solve, and dis is one of 'em."

Darkwing Duck picked himself up off the floor, and dusting off his jacket he stepped away from Steelbeak slowly and calmly. In some ways, Steelbeak was more of a threat than the "main public enemy," the notorious Negaduck. Immune to the gas gun and unpredictable in temperament, Steelbeak was a force not to be reckoned with.

In spite of this, Darkwing Duck was normally not afraid of the oversized rooster, but today was different. In front of him, he was facing a different Steelbeak he had never known before - a truly dangerous one. Ten years ago, he was able to subdue him with single webkick, but now it would take the force of ten of him to do so.

"Let me help you . . . " Darkwing whispered, his voice filled with fear. "I mean no harm to you, and I'm not going to arrest you. I thought we had an agreement on this!"

The morning light shone through a broken window of the warehouse, glinting off Steelbeak's beak as he paced around in the shadows. His anger was mixed with distrust as he still couldn't let go of the fact that this crimefighter really did want to help him. He was a tortured soul; one that constantly had confrontations with others, the law and himself.

"How could I be soiten dat I can trust youse, of all people? All youse ever did was t'row me in jail fer doin' my job, and brag about it to yer buddies! 'Oh look at me, I tossed ol' Steelbeak in the slammer again! He wouldn't be causing chaos for a while'!"

Darkwing could feel his confidence return, and with his trademark determination, he marched right over to Steelbeak, blocking his way each and every time he paced. "And I was doing my job! Do you think I would go and let you run amuck, threaten my citizens just so I wouldn't jeopardize your oh-so-precious career? Well let me tell you - - "

With one hard kick to the gut, Steelbeak got Darkwing out of his way - - for the moment. "Youse don't need ta tell me. Just back de hell off!"

"GET AHOLD OF YOURSELF!" Darkwing roared, leaping onto Steelbeak's back and knocking him to the ground in a surprising show of strength. He expected a struggle of sorts, but the rooster was too stunned and merely stayed where he was.

"Well, easier than I thought . . . "

It was around that time that Javert had awoken from his "nap." As soon as he got his bearings straight, he reached for his gun and took aim at Steelbeak's temple. It was either now, or never, and being the son of a High Commander, Javert knew what victory was when he could practically taste it in his mouth.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled the trigger.