The Alvin Chronicles Episode 7: After I Take Over the World

 

Glensoft Skyscraper

 

Patrick Lin looked over nervously outside the window of the large skyscraper. This phase of the plan was at most risky, and if any Agency agents managed to show up, the entire plan could go to the dogs. The former programmer rapt his fingers on the handgun strapped to his waist, ready for any unexpected occurrence. Patrick couldn't afford to leave the Glensoft building until his program finished installing itself into the Swiss network, and was not about to take any chances.

 

Patrick turned to the four Spetsnaz Storm Troopers guarding the large circular room. Patrick knew they were the best of the best, but having Soviets around made him uneasy. They all looked like they could down six shots of vodka in five minutes and break a server in half just by punching it. The leader of the Spetsnaz guards, Captain Gunov, stood over seven feet tall, and looked more like a weight lifter than a soldier.

 

“What makes you so twitchy, Komrad Patrickov?” Gunov asked. The Captain shouldered his massive RPD light machine gun like it was nothing.

 

“I don't know,” said Patrick. “I'm just a little lightheaded today.”

 

“You think there is a threat here that looms larger than us?” Gunov correctly guessed Patrick's assumption.

 

“Uh...” Patrick didn't know how to reply to a seven foot tall gorilla carrying a large machine gun with full ammo.

 

“Don't you worry, Komrad,” said Gunov, “The 5th Spetsnaz is more than a match for enemies of the Soviet Union. All who stand in our way will be CRUSHED!”

 

Gunov picked up a stapler from Glen's desk and crushed it with a squeeze from his left hand. The sickening crunch turned the stapler into a metal raisin.

 

Patrick looked on in bewilderment. “Did they give you steroids or something?” He asked, to himself.

 

“What was it you said?” said Gunov. The burly captain placed the twisted stapler back onto the table.

 

“Nothing,” said Patrick quickly.

---

 

Soviet Headquarters

 

Peter and his cat watched on the LCD screen as Soviet troops entered an underground complex with full force. The Soviet soldiers blew open metal doors with charges and stormed rooms with assault weapons raised, yelling curse words in Russian.

 

The leader of the assault, a woman named Lieutenant Petrenko, radioed Peter with her latest reports.

 

“Komrad Peterov, the Glensoft underground complex has been infiltrated by our assault teams,” Petrenko said, “We are approaching the target from all four directions.”

 

“That's good progress,” Peter enthusiastically mused.

 

Petrenko hesitated. “However, there is one problem.”

 

“Problem?” asked Peter. “What problem?”

 

“There is a force field protecting our target from within. We will need access to Glensoft's secure mainframe to be able to shut it down.”

 

“I have a man working on that right now,” Peter yawned. “He should have the field down in a moment.”

 

Dementov approached Peter from behind. Peter raised a hand, signaling for Dementov to wait.

 

“Very good, sir,” said Petrenko, “We won't let you down.”

 

Peter's cat let out a meow.

 

“Baby says you better not fail,” Peter said.

 

“Yes sir,” Petrenko acknowledged. “Petrenko out.”

 

Her voice transmission cut off, but Peter was still able to see his troops' progress into the underground complex on his LCD monitor. Dementov tapped Peter on the shoulder.

 

“Yes, General?” Peter said.

 

“A patrol from the 5th Spetsnaz just radioed in. He says he has captured an Agency agent.”

 

“What? The Agency knows we're here?” Peter turned to face Dementov.

 

“Apparently so,” Dementov said. “Do you want me to tell him to interrogate the agent?”

 

Peter thought for a second. Finally, he looked up at Dementov.

 

“No,” said Peter. “I want you to personally interrogate the prisoner. We must know everything the Agency knows, and you are the perfect guy to do it.”

 

Dementov grinned a demented grin and said with a distant voice, his one eye twinkling, “You are to debates as I am to...effective persuasion.”

 

“Get to it, General,” said Peter. His cat purred.

 

Dementov left with gleeful thoughts on his mind, and Peter turned back to face the LCD screen. Suddenly, his cell phone started ringing with “Banana Phone” as it's ringtone.

 

Peter answered the phone.

 

“Soviet Dictator Peter Tang on the phone, who is this speaking?” Peter said.

 

“Me,” said a familiar voice.

 

“Jenny?” asked Peter.

 

“Peter, your operation is not entirely a secret. The entire world is broadcasting it, and think your next move is to take over the world.” said Jenny.

 

“Really?” asked Peter.

 

“Yes,” said Jenny.

 

“Crap! They're actually right for once!” exclaimed Peter.

 

“Exactly,” Jenny said.

 

“It doesn't really matter,” said Peter. “What can the rest of the world do? I control Moscow. I control Washington D.C. I control Ottawa. I control Berne! All they can do is stare at my beautiful cats and pout.”

 

“That's not why I called,” said Jenny. “The reason why I called is because you owe me some money.”

 

“I do?” asked Peter.

 

“Yes,” said Jenny. “Remember that counseling session last month? I'm still waiting for the money you owe me.”

 

“Hey, once I take over Ukraine, I'll give you the Petercredits, okay?”

 

“Also, what's bothering more is that you've neglected to include me into your scheme,” said Jenny.

 

“Hey, with all these Russian troops under my command, who needs mercenaries?” asked Peter.

 

“I am NOT a mercenary!” said Jenny.

 

“Mercenary, Contract Killer, same thing,” Peter yawned.

 

“You want me to cleaver you?” threatened Jenny.

 

“Hey, let's chill here, alright? I planned to get you involved once Phase Three was well under way, but I guess now that I do have some variables to be smoothed out, I could use your help a phase earlier. How much?”

 

“Thirty million for every operation,” came the abrupt answer.

 

“Sure,” said Peter.

 

“It's done then,” said Jenny. “What are you willing to spend thirty million on?”

 

Peter thought for a moment.

 

“New York City,” said Peter. “There have been some Agency activity there. Disrupt them.”

 

“All of them?” asked Jenny.

 

“Yes,” said Peter. “All of them.”

 

“Sure,” replied Jenny. “Remember, Peter, if you need a contract, CAKE or grief counseling, call me.”

 

“Yeah, whatever,” said Peter.

---

In Switzerland...

Alvin woke up with a throbbing headache. He was in a small room with boring white wallpaper. Alvin immediately tried to stand up, but realized his hands and feet were tied to a wooden chair.

 

“Oh Ramen!” Alvin grimaced, and looked around. There was nothing else in the room but one boring light panel and a boring white door.

 

Alvin tried to bend down to gnaw at the rope binding his hands to the chair, but couldn't reach it.

 

“I knew I should have taken Yoga,” Alvin groaned. He tried struggling, but besides hurting his wrists and ankles nothing else happened.

 

Suddenly, the door slowly opened and two Soviet soldiers walked in. Alvin recognized one of them as the soldier who had knocked him unconscious. The soldier discarded a burnt cigar onto the floor beside him and approached Alvin. The captured Asian looked up at the grim face of the soldier, and wondered what kind of unhappy childhood that guy must have had.

 

The two guys stared at each other; the Soviet soldier with his grim, weary face, and Alvin with his practiced poker face.

 

“Um,” Alvin broke the silence. “What's up?”

 

The soldier said nothing, and turned to his comrade. This second soldier walked up to Alvin and flashed an evil grin. Alvin could see this soldier's name on his helmet: PVT. SERENOV.

 

“Pardon my comrade's curtain of silence,” said Serenov. He sounded like he was trying to impersonate an American cowboy in a movie from the '50s.

 

The first soldier, the one who had knocked Alvin unconscious, just stared at Alvin.

 

“Private Kaverin is a mute, and he communicates through his eyes,” Serenov cheerfully explained to Alvin. “Don't worry, though, you are not the first Agency man Kaverin has...dealt with.”

 

Alvin glanced back at Private Kaverin, who still stared through Alvin.

 

“I'm sure he is a...a pleasurable man to be with,” said Alvin slowly.

 

Serenov let out a laugh. Alvin could tell, however, that this was a laugh of ridicule.

 

“Oh yes,” Serenov said, “Kaverin is a pleasurable man to be with...if you're not the enemy.”

 

Alvin open his mouth before closing it. Serenov continued ranting.

 

“You won't believe how long it took our patrol to rig the old SWISS CHEESE AND ICE CREAM store with our booby traps. It took us ten hours. TEN FRIGGIN HOURS. Luckily, it was worth it. You came along and played directly into our hands.”

 

Serenov laughed maniacally.

 

“How can an Agency man like you be so imbecile? Traveling alone? Deep in enemy territory? With identification linking you back to the Agency? That is unheard of.”

 

Wait a minute, Alvin thought, 'Traveling alone'? That means Victoria...she escaped?

 

Serenov continued to laugh. Suddenly, he turned serious and stared at Alvin.

 

“It's too bad you'll be paying for your mistakes. You'll be tortured soon. Then, if he thinks your information is good enough. He may let you go.”

 

“Who's 'he'?” asked Alvin. “Kaverin?”

 

“No, not Kaverin,” smiled Serenov. “HIM.”

 

Suddenly, General Dementov entered, smiling sadistically.

 

Alvin, wide-eyed, knew he was doomed and wondered to himself, “Victoria, where the HECK are you?”

---

In New York...

 

Back in the alley, Jason turned to Agent Uberdaniel.

 

“Okay, so now we're down here,” said Jason. “What do you want?”

 

“I could use your help,” said Uberdaniel. “I saw you two being chased by the Russians and I thought 'Hey, these guys are already wanted, so why not let them help us?' So I have come to help you help me.”

 

“Yeah, help you, but not help me,” panted Howard, “I think I have blisters everywhere.”

 

“What are you doing here?” Jason asked Uberdaniel.

 

“Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to tell you guys,” said Uberdaniel. “Me and Agent Ubermatthew are on a mission to-”

 

“Wait, WHO?” asked Howard.

 

“Agent Ubermatthew,” said Uberdaniel.

 

Howard gave Uberdaniel the worm guts look.

 

“Huh,” said Howard.

 

Uberdaniel ignored Howard. “Me and Ubermatthew-”

 

“Hey, isn't it 'Ubermatthew and I'?” asked Howard.

 

“I don't like this kid,” Uberdaniel told Jason.

 

“Hey!” huffed Howard. “I'm not a kid! I'm a big boy!”

 

“Anyway,” Uberdaniel continued, “Me and Ubermatthew are supposed to search an apartment building for clues to a Soviet operation in Europe. However, according to my calculations, this mission is impossible to complete with only two agents.”

 

“Why?” asked Jason.

 

Uberdaniel raised his hands up. “I gathered intelligence yesterday to see what kind of security we're going to have to foil in order to complete the mission, and I discovered that there are security guards who guard the entrance to the target apartment 24/7 in pairs on seven shifts. The apartment window is the only way safely in or out, but it's reinforced safety glass, impenetrable by anything short of armor piercing rounds. Going through the window would expose us to the public anyway. Therefore, I propose going through the vents, but I need a distraction to prevent the security guards from discovering the mission.”

 

“And you want us to help you?” asked Jason incredulously.

 

“Yes,” said Uberdaniel. “You two are perfect for the distraction.”

 

“What if we refuse?” Howard challenged.

 

“Then I will shrug, disappear forever, and leave you two to fend off the Russians by yourselves. I'll remind you that I've got big guns.” Uberdaniel said.

 

“Okay, fine,” sighed Jason. “We'll help you in exchange for protection.”

 

“Good. Our mission begins in about...” Uberdaniel checked his digital wristwatch. “Five minutes.”

 

“WHAT?!” cried out both Jason and Howard.

 

“Agent Ubermatthew is already monitoring the apartment window. We wouldn't want to keep him waiting, would we now?” said Uberdaniel.

---

 

In Lynbrook...

 

Future Lawrence was still cursing due to the presence of the splitting image of his past self standing in front of him.

 

“OH F****** SH** HOW IS THIS F****** POSSIBLE OH MY F****** SH** SON OFA F****** B**** HOW THE F***- AM I F***** DREAMING STIL HOLY SH** F*** MOTHERF***** GOAT CHEESE SON OF A B**** S*** F*** SON!”

---

 

“Aww...”cooed Hansen, “Little bunnies want play time!”

 

Pink bunnies hopped around, eating grass. The sun smiled down upon everyone, and Hansen felt blissful at this wondrous occurrence of freakish awesomeness. A Loveblimp puffed along in the sky.

 

“Spread love, not war!” it cheerfully proclaimed.

 

“YAY!” said Hansen.

 

Meanwhile, in the real world, the mysterious figure watched Hansen. He turned to look at a glass window. Beyond that window lay another dark figure suspended by cords and tubes. Weasel appeared behind his master and said, “S-s-sir, we have enough for activation.”

 

“Excellent,” said the figure. He lifted up a gloved hand and touched the screen in front of him. In turn, a bracelet was revealed. On the bracelet a word was imprinted in faded gold letters: PUPPETMASTER.

 

The Puppet Master turned to face his creation beyond the glass window, an empty shell soon to be occupied.

 

“Start it up.” Puppet Master said.

 

Weasel nodded ferociously, and turned a lever. At the same instant, the shady figure behind the glass window shuddered, and where the eyes were supposed to be two blue orbs started to glow.

 

“EXCELLENT!” The Puppet Master laughed evilly. His plan was coming to fruition at last.

 

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