SMUGGLER’S
BALOO
By
Herodotus
TaleSpin and its characters are the property of Buena Vista/Walt Disney Co. and are used without permission. No profits are being made from this story. It is intended only as a tribute to the original stories. The rest is mine. The following fan-fic is rated PG for occasional coarse language, innuendo and violence.
Rebecca Cunningham studied the
documents carefully. “Well, I guess you
check out, Mr. Muller.”
The fox seated across from her desk
gave her a tired smile. “I must admit,
Mrs. Cunningham, I’m impressed by both your professionalism and the care you
take. It’s something we look for in the
people with whom we work.”
Rebecca looked at the fox. “Let’s just say I’m not one to be impressed by
a fancy trench coat.”
Well,
not again, anyway, she added silently.
The fox gave the prim-looking female
bear a curious look, as if he wanted to say something. Instead he changed his mind and said, “A
rather interesting way to put it, Mrs. Cunningham.”
“I must admit I’ve never heard of
the Office of Secret Stuff.”
“Well, as the name would imply, we
don’t exactly advertise our presence.”
Rebecca pushed his documents back
across the desk to him. He picked up
his government ID, driver’s license, Kiwana’s membership card, and his library
card. He placed them back into his
wallet before returning it to an inside pocket of his expensive-looking trench
coat. Rebecca was not sure, but she
thought she caught a brief glimpse of a pistol butt under his left armpit as he
did so. Was he armed?
She picked up a piece of paper from
her desk at random and pretended to study it to hide her nervousness. “So, Mr. Muller, what exactly does the OSS
want with Higher for Hire?”
Reaching out, he gently removed the
document from her hands and turned it right side up before returning it to
her. The tired look that had been in
his eyes when he had first entered her office was replaced by a boyish twinkle.
“Please, call me Vulps. And you can trust me, Rebecca. I really am one of the good guys.”
Could she? Rebecca studied him even more intently than she had his
credentials. More than once in the past
she had judged on appearances and had lived to regret it. There did seem to be a glow of sincerity in
his deep brown eyes. Despite the fact
that he might actually have brought a gun into her office, she did find that
she felt she could trust him. Maybe it was
his calm manner, maybe it was the fact that he only asked her to trust him and
did not try to convince her, or maybe she was just a chump for a handsome face.
She hoped this would not be another
one she would live to regret. “Okay,
Vulps, I’ll trust you. For now. But you still haven’t told me what a secret
government agency would need with Higher for Hire.”
He gave her a little-boy smile. “About what any other person would
want. We would like you to go
somewhere, pick up a cargo, and bring it back for us.”
“Then why the cloak and dagger
routine?”
And
why are you carrying a gun? she added to herself.
“I’m sorry, Rebecca, I didn’t mean
to be so cagey. It is one of the
pitfalls of my line of work. You tend
not to tell anyone anything more than you have to.”
Rebecca put her head in her hands
and rested her elbows on her desk. She
was already beginning to regret trusting this nice-looking young
gentleman. With a sound that could have
been either a sigh of disgust or a growl of frustration, she looked up at him.
“Listen, if you expect me to do a
job for you I am going to need a little more information than that!”
“A very reasonable request,
Rebecca. Let me start by filling you in
with a little background. As you may
have noticed, things are becoming a little unsettled on the international scene
lately. There are forces out there that
do not have Usland’s best interests at
heart. People who would not hesitate to
use violence to achieve their goals.”
“Does this have something to do with
Thembria?” A worried tone crept into
her voice. “I’ve heard rumors lately,
but I haven’t...”
“No, it isn’t Thembria.” He shook his head. “That is a threat we will have to face sometime in the future,
but not yet.”
“Then who?”
“The Ratzis.”
“The Ratzis?” Rebecca was incredulous. “But Vermany is just a little country. And after how soundly it was defeated in the
Great War...”
Vulps Muller stood and walked to a
window. The boyish twinkle in his eyes
was completely gone as he stared out over Cape Suzette’s harbor. Staring as if he could somehow see further
than the great cliffs that lined the harbor.
“Mrs. Cunningham, you must fly a lot
in this business of yours.”
“Well, er, that is, probably more
than most people.” Not wanting to admit
that she was not really a pilot. Well,
not a licensed pilot anyway.
“Have you ever been out at sea where
you can see a storm front closing in on you?
A great black wall of clouds and rain?
You can see it coming, and yet there is nothing you can do about
it. You can’t outrun it, you can’t
dodge it, all you can do is brace yourself and hope you can pilot your craft
through the storm and bring her through in one piece.”
“Well... ” A shiver ran down
Rebecca’s spine. There was something
about the calm way in which he spoke that was almost spooky.
“That is the position we in the OSS
often find ourselves in.”
This
guy could give Orson Whales lessons in being creepy, Rebecca decided. “But what does that have to do with Higher
for Hire?”
The little boyish smile returned to
his face as he sat down again. “Sorry,
didn’t mean to get up on a soapbox there.
The basic nub of the mission is we need someone to fly to Macadamia,
pick up a cargo and bring it back to Cape Suzette.”
Rebecca gave him a wry look. “Have you thought about having it sent
parcel post?”
The fox shook his head. “Besides the inherent risk involved in doing
it that way, this all has to be done without anyone being the wiser.”
“Don’t you have pilots of your own
who could do it?”
“At the OSS we specialize in
unconventional operations. The whole
idea of this operation is to have as few people involved in it as is
possible. If we send out a government
pilot I’d have to fill out so much paperwork that half the government would
know what was going on. At that point,
the odds are the Ratzis would probably know what we were up to before the
plane’s wheels lifted from the runway.”
“Do you mean you don’t even trust
our own government?” How paranoid could you get?
“A person I admired a great deal
once told me to trust no one.” He shook
his head. “No, I’m not that paranoid,
but part of the problem of having an open and free society is the fact that it
is so easy to infiltrate. And if there
is one thing the Ratzis are good at, it’s espionage.”
Creepy
did not go far enough to describe this guy.
If he was not for real he should take his act on the road. Boars Carlough had nothing on this guy. She was not sure she wanted to get involved
in whatever it was he had in mind.
“In that case aren’t you telling me
an awful lot? I mean what are you going to do if I decide not to take the job?”
He reached into his trench coat once
more, and again she caught a glimpse of deep brown wood and blue-black
metal. This time he brought forth a
large envelope, which he tossed onto the desk in front of her. With nervous caution, she picked it up and
looked inside. Her eyes widened.
“There are a hundred C-notes in
there, Rebecca. There will be four more
packets just like it when the mission is over.
I’m quite aware of the financial situation that Higher for Hire is
in. I’m also quite aware that you are a
single mother with a child to support.
You, literally, can’t afford to turn me down.”
Fifty
thousand dollars! Rebecca
swallowed.
“I think you had better come with me
and see the bear you’ve chosen to pilot your craft through the storm.”
Baloo lounged lazily beneath the
starboard wing of the Sea Duck in his
favorite faded canvas hammock. It was a
perfect day for lounging. One of those
hot, humid days that could make a person wish they didn’t have fur. Off in the distance he could hear a radio
playing Glen Miller’s “String of Pearls”, accompanied by the bells of the
harbor buoys, and the lapping sound of the waves against the pier. The sound of sea birds overhead and an occasional boat
whistle added to the din. None of them were in rhythm, but somehow oddly in
harmony. Even the occasional rumbling
of his belly letting him know that it had been too long since it had last been
fed could not rouse him to action. And
when Baloo did not answer to the call of the “big guy”, it meant something.
The best part of it all was the fact
that he did not have to worry about being disturbed. Becky had given him the next three days off. She had given him her solemn word after that
last nightmarish week of eighteen to twenty-hour days getting those rush orders
of umbrellas and warm beer to Blokeland that he would get three whole days off.
Maybe in an hour or two he would get
up and get something to eat, and then maybe take Kit fishing. Or better yet --- fix up a picnic basket and
take both it and Kit fishing! Maybe he would even see if he could talk
Becky into joining them.
Now if there was one person he knew,
other than himself, who really needed to take a few days off, it was
Becky. That was it --- he would grab
Kit, Becky, Molly, and a picnic lunch and they could make a day of it. Or a half a day of it, as he had no
intention of rousing himself any time before noon. Kind of like a family outing.
Family outing? Now why did that
phrase make him feel comfortable and nervous at the same time?
“Baloo...”
Now there was a sound that did not
make him feel comfortable at all. He
knew that voice, and he knew that tone.
The voice belonged to the boss lady, and the tone was that sweet gentle
one she used when she wanted to talk him into something he was not going to
like. Usually involving work, or being
somewhere he did not want be, in clothes he did not like wearing.
A bad feeling coiled itself around
his belly. A belly that was no longer crying
to be fed as his appetite had been completely destroyed.
“I ain’t gonna do it,” he muttered
under his breath as he heard footsteps on the dock. “No matter how much she pleads, begs, or threatens, I ain’t gonna
do it.”
“Baloo, I need to ask a favor of
you.”
“Becky, you gave me your solemn
word.”
“Will you at least open your eyes
and listen to what I have to say?”
Baloo sighed. Maybe he would get lucky and she wanted him
to take the kids fishing. He opened his
eyes. No such luck. The well-dressed fellow standing next to
Rebecca positively reeked of hard work.
A no-nonsense client of the first order if Baloo was any judge of
character. There were two things Baloo
could smell a mile away. One was
Louie’s pizza, and the other was hard work, and this fellow did not smell of
pizza.
“Okay, Becky, lemme have it.”
“Baloo, will you behave.” She turned to address the well-dressed fox
next to her. “You see, Vulps, I don’t
think my pilot is quite what you had in mind.”
“Quite the contrary, Rebecca, he is
just the pilot I want.”
Baloo scowled. Who was this fancy pants to be calling Becky
by her first name?
The fox stepped forward and offered
his hand to the bear, who was still reclining.
“I’m very honored to meet you, Baloo.”
With a grin, Baloo stood up and
shook his hand. “Ya hear that,
Becky? I’m famous.”
“Yes, but famous for what? That’s the question,” Rebecca grumbled.
“So ya gonna introduce me ta your
new friend or what, Becky?”
“Baloo,” Becky scowled. “He’s not my friend, he’s a government
agent.”
“What, another one?” Baloo laughed. “I hope ya asked for more identification this time than just a
trench coat.”
Muller turned his head and looked at
Rebecca, amused understanding danced in his eyes. She reddened.
“Of course I did. He had all sorts of identification.”
“What is it this time, another box
of worms that needs to be delivered?”
Rebecca looked at Vulps with an
embarrassed smile. “As you can see, Baloo is not really the kind of person you
want to entrust with such an important
mission. Oh, he’s good enough for
regular kinds of cargo runs, like delivering pickles and manure, but...”
“Wait a minute, Becky, what do you
mean ‘good enough for regular kinds of cargo runs’? I’d hardly call some of the harebrained schemes you’ve had me do normal!”
“I don’t mean that, Baloo.” Becky
placed a gentle hand on one of his massive arms. “You are, without a doubt, the best pilot I’ve ever known, but
Mr. Vulps is looking for a secret agent sort of guy. You know, dangerous and desperate mission kind of stuff.”
“What, you don’t think I could
handle it?”
He wished she would not touch him
like that when they were arguing. For
some reason he found it hard to keep up his end of the argument when she did
that. It was ... it was... well, distracting.
“I have to agree with Baloo on this,
Rebecca. His record is quite
impressive. He has taken on air pirates
more than once and come out on top. He
has also saved Cape Suzette on more than one occasion, such as the Panda-La
incident and the time air pirates captured the air defense batteries on the
cliffs. Then there was the Macadamia
incident. Not only does it show how
well he can think on his feet, he also has some knowledge of Macadamia itself.”
“That’s fine, but Baloo on a secret
mission? I thought you were worried
about someone finding out?”
“Actually, Rebecca, Baloo can lie
better than most seasoned agents I know.”
“Ha! Did ya hear that, Becky, I
can... hey, wait a minute, I think I’ve just been insulted!”
“The Martian invasion incident is
ample proof of that.”
Rebecca managed to look both shocked
and embarrassed at the same time.
“You know about that?”
“You can’t cause an entire armor
division to mobilize without someone checking to see what’s going on.”
“You mean the OSS looked into that?”
“No, not the OSS. The Weird Happenings Office has jurisdiction
over incidents like that. But WHO and
the OSS do a pretty good job of keeping each other informed when we think it
might be something that the other might find interesting.”
Rebecca gave him a confused look.
“Who?”
“Exactly!”
“Did you ever feel like you wandered
in halfway through a comedy routine?”
Baloo asked.
“Baloo, what are you talking about?”
“That’s just it, I’ve no idea what
we are talkin’ about!”
Vulps Muller studied the pair with
an amused look in his eyes. He could
not quite put his finger on it, but for some reason they reminded him of his
parents.
“Okay, let me start over, and this
time I’ll use real small words.”
Rebecca said with the same tone with which she might have addressed
Molly. “This is Mr. Vulps Muller, he
works for the Office of Secret Stuff.
He needs someone to pick up a cargo and bring it back here.”
“Give me a break, Becky. I could figure that much myself. I don’t need ta know who. What I need ta
know is what, where, and why.”
Rebecca gave him a puzzled
look. Baloo grinned and continued.
“What do I have to get? Where is it? Why me? And trust me,
Becky, if ya expect me to cough up my three days off I’d better be real impressed by the answers.”
“Baloo!” The petite female bear
scolded him, and Muller almost laughed out loud. It was so much like a mother scolding a wayward child.
“Mr. Muller is from the government,
and he needs our help.”
“Then maybe he should tell me just
what it is I’m supposed ta do.”
“An excellent idea, Baloo,” Muller
broke in. He had a suspicion that these
two could keep this kind of exchange up for hours, if not all day.
“Let me explain. As I was telling Rebecca earlier, these are
quite turbulent times. Forces are in
motion. Forces that can not be easily
dissuaded from their intended courses.
It falls to an unfortunate few to try and do what they can to protect
the innocent from these forces. I am
one of those few, and I was hoping what I knew about you indicated that you
would be willing to be one of us.”
Not taking his eyes from Muller,
Baloo addressed Rebecca out of the side of his mouth, “Boy, he is good.”
“Tell, me about it,” she whispered
back. “I think I’m going to have
nightmares for days.”
“I think I’ll join ya.”
“One of these innocents,” Muller
continued as if he had not heard their exchange. “Is the country of Macadamia.”
“Macadamia?”
Vulps smiled. “I thought that name would ring a bell. Yes Macadamia. Its present government is close to Usland philosophically,
despite the fact that it is a monarchy.
Unfortunately, it is closer to Vermany geographically.
While it would like to side openly
with Usland, the Ratzis are able to keep political pressure on them due to
their close proximity. Macadamia is
rich in natural resources that the Ratzis desperately need to fuel their
rearmament’s program. Not the least of
which is oil, to make fuel itself. Up
until now, the King of Macadamia has been able to keep the pro-Ratzi faction at
bay because he has the backing of the people.
The Ratzis are working on eroding the people’s confidence in the
King. They hope to make the people feel
he is unfit to rule so they can depose him and install a pro-Ratzi puppet
government.“
“Hey, I know the king of Macadamia,
He’s a lot sharper than people give him credit for.”
“You know the
King of Macadamia?” Rebecca gave Baloo
a surprised look.
“Yeah, I spent a year there for a
couple of days once. He comes off a
little nutty, but trust me, he’s no fool.”
“You... know... a... king?”
“Their latest plot involves the
theft of the ancient artifacts of the Macadamian monarchy,” Vulps
continued. “Artifacts that supposedly
grant the ruling monarch his right to rule.
The theory being that if the king is foolish enough to lose control of
those artifacts, he is not fit to be king.”
“So what does that have ta do with
me? I mean I kinda liked the guy and
all that, but couldn’t you just send any ol’ pilot out ta pick it up?”
“You... know... a... king?”
Vulps shook his head. “The Ratzis would stop any attempt to remove
them from the kingdom.”
“Yeah, but it’s still his kingdom. I mean, if he just wants ta send them somewhere, say to Cape
Suzette for a cleanin’, how could they prevent him? What kind of political pressure could they use ta stop somethin’
like that?”
“How about three panzer divisions,
two paratroop battalions, and a wing of fighter bombers on their northern
border?”
“Man! Now that’s what I call political pressure.”
“You know a king, a real live king,
like with a palace and oodles of money?”
Rebecca continued as if she was unaware of the conversation going on
between Baloo and Vulps. “A king with a
crown and you never told me?”
“Yes, Becky, a king with crown,
and a palace, and a royal treasure and all that jazz.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about that? Do you
realize the kind of business a head of state could throw our way? Baloo!
You never tell me anything!”
“What are ya complainin’ about? I just told ya, didn’t I?”
“If we could get back to the
business at hand?” Vulps asked calmly.
“Oh, yeah, right, go ahead, Mr.
Muller.”
“Please, call me Vulps, Baloo.”
“Knows a king, with all kinds
money. But does he think to tell
me? Noooo.” Rebecca continued to grumble to herself.
“You see, Baloo, with that kind of
threat hanging over his head the King of Macadamia just can’t risk blatantly
flaunting their power.”
“And that’s where I come in, right?”
“Right. We need a pilot who can slip in and smuggle the Macadamian
artifacts out. All without anyone
knowing a thing about it. It is a job
that calls for a very skilled pilot. A
pilot who can handle himself in a scrape and is no stranger to danger. For danger there could be aplenty.”
“Danger?” Baloo said, not sounding too thrilled.
Vulps gave him another boyish
smile. “When the Ratzis are involved
there is always an element of danger. I
hope I’m not scaring you off?”
“Nah, it’d take more than a couple
of panzer divisions to scare off ol’ Baloo,”
Baloo said. I just don’t have ta like it, he added silently.
“So, Vulps, just how big is this
‘cargo’ you need me to pick up? And I
mean size-wise. How much space will it
take up?”
“Hmmm, at a guess, I’d say maybe
eight to ten cubic feet.”
“And how big is the largest piece?’
“About twice the size of a bread
box.” Vulps said, indicating the
approximate size with his hands.
“Hmmm,” Baloo said, rubbing his jaw
thoughtfully. “It just might fit.”
“Baloo, What are you talking
about?” Rebecca demanded.
Instead of answering her, Baloo
turned around and walked to the Sea
Duck’s open cargo bay and entered.
Rebecca and Vulps had to scamper across the seasoned planks of the dock
to catch up with him.
“Baloo,” Rebecca called. “Will
you answer me!”
Much to Rebecca’s horror, instead of
answering her, he began tearing up the floor of the Sea Duck. Already there
were gaping holes in the decking and he was still pulling up more and more deck
plates. Finally the large gray bear
stopped his apparent wanton destruction of the Sea Duck and proudly studied his handiwork.
“Have
you completely lost your mind?” Rebecca screamed at him.
“Heh, considering who I work for,
that’s always a danger.”
Unlike Rebecca, Vulps studied the
present state of the Sea Duck’s floor
with an appreciative eye. “I must
admit, Baloo, I am impressed!”
“What!” Rebecca screamed. “Are you nuts? That big dumb bear is wrecking the plane you
wanted to use to rescue the Macadamian treasures. What’s more, it’s my
plane.”
Vulps gave her another of his mischievous smiles. “If it truly is ‘your plane’, why are you so surprised that he is opening all the secret compartments?”
“Secret whats?” Rebecca turned to
face Baloo, storm clouds gathering on her brow. “What’s the idea of never telling me that the Sea Duck has secret compartments,
mister?”
Baloo grinned in spite of
himself. Smiling at Becky when she was
mad was not the best of ideas. It could be real hard on the ears, both
volume-wise and physically.
“Well, I guess the subject just never
came up.”
Besides,
he thought to himself, a feller needs a
place to hide a case or two of Orange Fizzies when his boss is trying to cram
every possible space in the Sea Duck full of whatever cargo she has decided he
need to haul to the far corners of the world.
With her hands on her hips, Rebecca
gave Baloo a stern look. It was just
like him to enjoy keeping a little secret from her. Sometimes he was just like a little boy.
“Baloo, one of these days we are
going to have a long talk.”
“Sure, Becky,” he chuckled. “Someday when you have nothin’ better to do.
But right now we have more important things ta talk about.”
With that he turned to Vulps. “Well, what do you think? Will it fit?”
“I must admit, Baloo, I am
impressed. Even our best information on
you did not indicate this. Yes, I think
it should fit rather nicely.”
“So how soon do ya want ta get this
show on the road?”
“How soon can you be ready? As far as the OSS is concerned, the sooner the better. Right now would not be too soon.”
“Hmmm, let me think a moment.”
For once there was a serious
look on Baloo’s face. He sat down on a
frame chair that was bolted to the Sea
Duck’s bulkhead. His eyes flicked
around the cabin as if he was looking at things that were not there.
“I should have Wildcat go over the
engines. Macadamia ain’t right next
door, and I don’t like the sounds that one of the pots on number two engine is
making. And of course we’ll need ta fuel
the Sea Duck, and of course
I’ll need ta pick up some new charts.
I’ll have Kit plot us a course.
Hmmm. I’d say sometime tomorrow
mornin’.”
With a grin, Vulps thrust out his
right hand to shake. “Welcome to the
few, Baloo.”