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Emerald had had enough. Of this stupid ship, of all these annoying Pirates Of The Caribbean wannabes, of the fact that she had been stuck with Carter on enough missions to last her for a good long while.

Chaos had basically run amok upon the vessel, and, above, waving in the gentle breeze, the flag of the Jolly Twitches mocked them and reminded her just how moronic all of this truly was. Everyone was fighting everybody. She couldn't tell where Jay had gotten to, but he could take care of himself. As for the current bane of her existence, she'd hear him yelling or screaming, wailing, making some kind of loud noise that would inform her that the so-called Golden Boy needed her help.

And these other idiots – FANS and whatever group it was that had created the Kraken to begin with – well, they were asking for it. Especially the one who’d decided her ass was perfect for grabbing.

"Oh, FUCK this shit." She immediately grabbed a bayonet off another pirate, turned, and shot him, before stabbing the one who’d grabbed her in the first place. He attempted to dodge the incoming blade and failed, as it stabbed his eye. Blood spurted out as he shrieked in pain; his hands flew to his now-wounded eye and flailed around, while he kept shrieking.

She'd just go around and kill anyone who wasn't Nick or AJ. Hell, they're all the enemy anyway, and it's too damn crazy to attempt capturing anyone who ain't that midget leader from FANS, she mused silently.

Who needed a plan?


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Nick was scanning the area, shoving aside anyone who got in his way. He didn't care about the random pirates or minions scattered about the deck of the ship. No, he wanted someone specific this time. Jay had said he would go after the leader. Nick had someone else in mind. He knew Drums would be here.

And there he was, up within the crow’s nest of the ship. Nick needed to get there, now. He eyed his options. Climbing. Not the quickest route for him. That was when a wide grin appeared.

Nick Carter definitely had an idea.


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It was Donnie who saw that idea put into action. He noticed a blonde agent, obviously not with FANS or the Kraken pirates, messing with the cannons. He was stuffing something in, likely a cannon ball... but with a rope attached. How... odd. The agent then held on to the other end, while aiming the cannon towards the crow’s nest, where one of their own oversaw the chaos below. It was then that he recognized the man as the infamous Agent Carter, of Himitsu Takana. The fuse was lit, and, within seconds, Carter was launched into the air, along with the cannon ball, in the direction of the crow's nest.

"He's insane!" Donnie heard a female voice yell. He agreed silently.

Once close enough to one of the rigging yards, Nick let go of the rope and gripped the wooden pole tightly, swinging himself up on top. It was synchronized so perfectly. Yet the action itself was so random. It baffled Donnie. “Do you think he plans it all out… or just makes it up as he goes along?”


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Nick caught his breath as he walked along the pole towards where his enemy stood. Drums turned and faced him with an almost neutral face. Nick caught the look of surprise before it vanished. As he stared at him, Drums climbed out of the nest and walked to meet him, the red, robotic light of his eye blinking relentlessly. Idly, Nick wondered if he was tempting fate by keeping his balance like this, despite his natural clumsiness.

"Knew you'd try get up on this, dawg."

Nick just shrugged. "What can I say? I have this whole love for keeping the world safe. You should know how that is – you used to have it too."

That was what triggered the first swing of the blade, as it was quickly unsheathed by the former HimTak agent. Drums lunged, as Nick fumbled, before swiftly pulling out his own saber to block his next attack. He reminded himself not to look down. Nick had never been a fan of heights, oddly enough; he hated planes, which wasn't common in his career field. Drums knew that, too, so he had to be careful.

"That man be dead and gone, yo.”

"He doesn't have to be!" Nick tried; he knew it was useless. Yet, out of respect for their old bond, he had to try one last time, even in spite of JC's own demise.

"Yes, it do gotta be like that! Yo, Nick, you’re da one who popped a cap in his ass! Justin's dead!"

The jab was fierce from Drums this time, causing Nick to stumble back. He struggled to keep his footing. The other man was on a deadly offensive; Nick kept having to back away as the swords clashed against each other in battle. The two dueled on, back and forth, as the boat swayed beneath them. The whole affair felt sadly familiar to Nick. It reminded him of earlier days, back when they would spar in one of the many training rooms of HimTak.


"Come at me, Kaos! Dawg, you gots ta be quicker!"

"Drums, we all know we aren't gonna swordfight much. My skills are with my Berettas... and with my ladies."

"Ya nevah know."

"Eh, you'll be there to help me out then, aight?"


It felt ironic, crossing blades with the same man who had helped hone his skills. Their sabers met strike for strike. Each knew the other's moves too well, able to read each other at a moment's glance to see what the other was planning to do next. Their sword dance went on amid the rigging, a precarious string of maneuvers along the wooden beam, as the weapons clanged and clashed loudly in the air. One wrong step, and either of them could plunge some two hundred feet to his death.

"This is fucking pointless, dude," Nick muttered, not meaning to say it aloud.

Drums's sword dove towards Nick, and, with seconds to spare, he met it with his own, struggling to keep the former agent's away from its intended target. The swords glimmered with the light of the fading sun above. Justin raised his sole remaining brow at him in silent question. The swords wavered, the strength of each man almost equal, neither quite able to overcome the other.

"You and I both know we aren't going to settle this in a swordfight."

Before Nick could actually continue, before Drums could even think and respond, a shriek pierced the air. It caught the attention of both men, and their eyes shifted downward, where another “pirate” was being stabbed in the eye by none other than Emerald Ecstasy. Nick was trying really hard not to snicker a bit at the scene below. Not at the man's injury; more at how smug the woman looked as she did it… and how she then rushed to shoot, slice, and dice any who came into her path.

Drums, however, was far from amused.

"Yo, you fucking tryin ta gank me, dawg?! Tryin to hate by doin’ it again?!"

It took Nick only seconds to realize what seeing that would do to him. An almost symbolic recreation of the injury that had destroyed his life. Every time he thought of it, it stung, more than Nick would ever say to anyone. And he thought about it more than anybody at HimTak would guess, including Pearl, Jay, or Jewel.

He couldn't wallow in guilt, however, because his opponent swung the sword dangerously close to his head. It set Nick off balance, forcing him to turn a stumble into an awkward somersault that almost looked like he’d done it on purpose, to those who didn't know any better. While in the air, he swung his sword at Drums. He just wanted all this to end. He wanted to move on. He wanted to end all the chaos he’d caused since that fateful mission. He wanted to forget. None of that could happen till everything between the two men was finished. That meant capture or death for one of them.

That didn't happen.

And still, his mark wasn't completely missed.

It did hit flesh. His blade was one of the very best, made of Japanese steel. A customized Hattori Hanzo sword, made exclusively for Himitsu Takana back in its days in Japan. HimTak always provided its agents with quality weapons, even for disguises, just in case. The blade was sharp, deadly, and able to slice through almost anything.

That “almost anything” included bone. It slid easily through Drums’s sword hand, sliced right on through as if it hadn't been of flesh and bone; it cut in like it was simply butter. Blood sprayed immediately at both Nick and Drums, as Nick reached wildly for the cordage of the sails to keep himself from falling. Clutching tightly to the ropes, he watched as the severed limb plummeted carelessly to the depths of the ocean below.

Nick looked up, wide-eyed, at Drums, startled by what he had just done. "MY HAND!" was the scream of agony with which he was met. Drums was in too much pain to do more, and Nick was in shock. He hadn't meant to disfigure Drums again. He’d missed the mark, again. Mutilated the man, again.

For a second, he was distracted, as the noise of helicopters roaring through the air caught the attention of everyone on the boat. All fighting ceased on both vessels.

Great. They had even more company.


± ± ±


Jay was still defending himself against the slashing blade of Dr. Rough when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed what appeared to be a human hand fly through the air, trailing flecks of blood behind it like the tail of a shooting star. Above the shouts and clang of swords on the decks below, he could have sworn he heard a plop as it dropped into the sea.

“Did you just see that?” he asked, steeling his own sword against Dr. Rough’s.

“See what?” sneered his nemesis.

“It looked like somebody’s hand. It fell from the sky and landed in the water over there.” With his own free hand, he pointed over the deck rail.

Dr. Rough frowned, perplexed. Their eyes met, and without a word, they both lowered their swords and raced to the rail, pushing each other out of the way in their quest to look for the appendage. It didn’t occur to either to stab the other while his back was turned.

“There!” cried Rough, pointing, and Jay looked down and grimaced at the sight of the ghostly hand bobbing in the blood-tinged waves. As realization dawned, they both looked up, craning their necks to see who had lost a hand. A sudden jolt rocked Jay’s stomach. Nick. Nick was up there, clinging to the rigging of the ship, with Drums.

All of a sudden, his attention turned to the skies, as he noticed a small fleet of helicopters swooping down from the clouds. His eyes narrowed, trying to make out their insignia. Next to him, he heard Dr. Rough’s low intake of breath.


± ± ±


Emerald didn’t see the helicopters. After watching Nick manage to blast himself into the rigging of the FANS ship to take on Drums, she had done a little rope swinging of her own – and planned to do a little blasting, too. She would never admit it, but 00Carter and their last mission together – two things she’d hated (and, in the case of Carter, still did) – had inspired her.

While the pirates ran amok aboard The Jolly Twitches, the Kraken was surprisingly deserted, leaving Emerald to poke around in the cargo hold, unseen. She made quick work of her task, gathering materials from the eclectic bounty of booty the pirates had pillaged from the cruise ships. Electronics, which she disassembled, laying out batteries and wires across the floor. A handsome, old-fashioned alarm clock that ticked out the time. A large section of pipe, which must have been recovered from the wreckage of one of the sinking vessels. A tube of ping-pong balls. A couple of pool toys. A sewing kit.

She even plundered some supplies from the pirates themselves. A toolbox. A few lifebuoys. A keg of gunpowder. A fuse from one of the cannons. These she set aside, while she got to work assembling her creation. She filled the pipe with gunpowder, inserting the end of the fuse before capping off the ends. She hooked the lifebuoys together and rigged the pipe inside. She attached wires, connected batteries. She set the alarm clock.

When she’d added the pool toys – a couple of child’s floaties and a long, foam noodle – she sat back to admire her handiwork. Cocking her head to the side, she decided something was missing. It didn’t yet give the visual effect she’d hoped for.

That was when she stripped off her green dress and started tearing it to pieces, still oblivious of the helicopters circling outside.


± ± ±


A smile spread like lava across Dr. Rough’s face when he saw the helicopters. He hesitated only a second, long enough to decide he was not about to risk being captured at the last minute, and then tipped his large hat to Jay. “Farewell!” he announced, as he flipped headfirst over the rail and dove into the sea.

When he surfaced, shaking saltwater from his eyes, he could just make out Jay’s stunned expression above the rail of The Jolly Twitches. “What do you think you’re doing?” Jay yelled down to him. “You’re insane, you know that?!”

Dr. Rough laughed bitterly. “I’m not insane!” he shouted from the water. “I’m a genius!”

“Maybe, but you’re also fucking nuts, dude! You know that’s why HimTak turned you down, don’t you? You failed the psych exam! Now I see why!”

Jay turned and walked away from the rail, leaving Dr. Rough treading the waves, screaming, “I am not insane! The mundane minds at Himitsu Takana couldn’t possibly understand the inner workings of a brain like mine! You’re looking at a mastermind! A mastermind they could have had as one of their own! But no! No, they missed out! Now they shall know their mistake in rejecting me! You don’t want me as your enemy, Agent McLean!”

But AJ McLean was already out of hearing range of his rantings. Furious, Dr. Rough snatched his waterlogged hat from the sea’s grasp and jammed the dripping thing onto his head. He reached both arms above his head, kicking feverishly beneath the surface of the water, and waved to signal the approaching helicopters.

As the one nearest descended, he could make out the purple letters emblazoned on the side. F.A.N.S. “Forgotten agents need status,” he murmured, shivering in the water as he watched a small hatch in the chopper’s black exterior open.

A long, rope ladder dropped when the helicopter was in range of him, and Dr. Rough swam to reach it. As soon as he had hoisted himself up onto the bottom rung, he dug deep into the pockets of his soggy breeches and retrieved a small whistle. This he blew, emanating a shrill pitch, as he was lifted out of the sea.

The chopper moved into position itself over The Jolly Twitches. Dr. Rough ignored the surprised shouts from the Kraken’s crew and the cheers from his own as he clung to the ladder, hovering a few feet above deck. His hopeful eyes found the captain’s quarters and watched until he saw what he’d been waiting for: the lithe body of his ferret, scrambling through one of the portholes.

“Come, Twitches!” he called, tooting his whistle once more, and watched Dr. Twitches scamper across the ship’s deck towards him, dodging feet and fallen bodies. “Jump, my darling!” And Dr. Twitches took a flying leap, soaring through the air like a missile, aiming for the ladder. Dr. Rough caught him by his harness and pulled him to the safety of his shoulder, winding the leash around his arm again. “There, there,” Dr. Rough cooed, kissing the top of the ferret’s head as he felt the ladder begin to ascend. “Daddy’s got you now.”

He began to climb the ladder. He could still hear the boom of cannonfire, the clatter of swords, and the shooting of guns from the decks below, and he prayed that his faithful minions could hold off their enemies long enough to allow him a safe escape.

When he finally reached the top of the ladder, unscathed, a hand reached down to pull him up into the helicopter. “Just in the nick of time, Fatone,” Dr. Rough panted breathlessly, setting Dr. Twitches safely down on the floor of the cabin.

“We received a page from Drums, saying that HimTak was here, and the numbers were more than anticipated. MJ and I thought you might need some backup!” shouted Joey above the roar of the rotors.

Dr. Rough smiled briefly at the rockhopper penguin strapped into the co-pilot’s seat. The penguin turned and winked, raising its wing in greeting. It was wearing a headset.

Joey fit Dr. Rough with a headset of his own so they could hear each other without shouting. He thought of Drums, watching the battle from the crow’s nest. Though he hated to admit defeat, Dr. Rough knew his right-hand agent had been wise to call for a rescue crew when he had. There was no telling how he would have escaped otherwise, with his ship overrun with HimTak agents, including that menace 00Carter and dear old AJ himself.

He gazed down at the crow’s next, intending to command Joey to fetch Drums next, and blinked in surprise when he saw that it was empty. “Where’s Drums??” he asked.

“I don’t see him,” Joey’s voice crackled through Dr. Rough’s headset. They both squinted down at the ship, searching for the red gleam of Drums’s eye. “There,” Joey said suddenly, pointing. “There he is.”

Dr. Rough followed his finger. He gasped softly when he spotted Drums, clinging to one of the masts with one hand, his knees hooked around the wooden beam. His right arm dangled limply in the air, and Dr. Rough’s eyes widened when he saw that it ended in a bleeding stump.

“He’s still alive,” he murmured, as he watched Drums struggle to hang on.

They circled the mast and dropped the ladder again, and Dr. Rough himself climbed back down it to rescue his most prized agent.


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