Alvin Chronicles Episode 8: I See Dead Cake

 

On top of an office building

 

Agent Ubermatthew steadied his Stealth Recon Scout sniper rifle and leveled it at an apartment window across the street, twenty sixth floor. Today was all business. The veteran sniper, at twenty two years old, was already one of the Agency’s best marksmen, and couldn’t wait to unleash his expert poise and patience in this mission. Ubermatthew breathed in fresh air and closed his eyes. Seconds passed before Ubermatthew finally opened his eyes. His sniper scope was rested in the exact same place. All checkpoints check.

 

“I’m monitoring the apartment right now,” said Ubermatthew. “The curtains are closed, so I’m not able to see what’s inside. Hold on while I switch to Scope Infrared.”

 

Uberdaniel, cramped in an air vent above the objective, waited a few tense seconds as Ubermatthew adjusted the sniper scope.

 

“Okay, I got it,” Ubermatthew’s voice rang over Uberdaniel’s earpiece. “There are four individuals inside the apartment. Two of them are packing things up.”

 

“Anything vital?” asked Uberdaniel.

 

“No. Just socks and…rocket ship boxers.”

 

“Good,” said Uberdaniel, “We don’t want the objective to escape. Rabbits, ready?”

 

“Yeah,” said Jason. “However, it would be best if you stopped calling us rabbits.”

 

“Rabbits,” said Uberdaniel.

 

“Ah, whatever,” Jason replied.

 

“From here on, we’re going in silent mode,” Uberdaniel said. “Do not move until you are given the signal over your earpiece.”

 

“Sure,” replied Jason.

 

“Man, my hand still hurts!” said Howard.

 

Uberdaniel switched off his earpiece and took out silenced twin Berettas. He took a deep breath and peered through the vent. There were three ordinarily dressed men in the bedroom below. Two of them were packing socks and boxers into a duffel bag, and all three were conversing in Russian. Uberdaniel waited in silence.

 

Meanwhile, outside on a rooftop across the street, Ubermatthew took aim at the heat signatures of the two bodyguards behind the door. He took out a receiver and pushed a small button on it, activating a small beep signal.

 

Jason and Howard heard the signal. Jason turned to Howard and gave him a tense look.

 

“You ready?” Jason asked Howard.

 

“Ow,” replied Howard.

 

“We’ll get you some ice after all this is over, ‘kay?” said Jason.

 

“Just get it over with,” grimaced Howard.

 

Jason took a deep breath, and rounded the corner into a long hallway. He could see the two guards from his position, guarding an apartment door. Both the guards quickly stopped exchanging conversation and turned to face Jason with grips around their handguns tightened.

 

“Sir, are you authorized to be on this floor?” asked one guard. Jason was surprised to discover that the guard had a genuine American accent.

 

“Uh…” said Jason, “I was just visiting a friend of mine…and he lives on this floor.”

 

The guards looked at each other before turning to walk towards Jason. However, Jason approached them fast, and the guards stayed put.

 

“Who is this…friend?” asked the other guard.

 

“Um,” Jason replied, “he’s an entrepreneur of bananas. He makes…banana…accessories…”

 

Jason winced at his poorly chosen words.

 

The first guard raised an eyebrow and turned to face his partner, amused.

 

Suddenly, Howard rounded the same corner and started stumbling towards the guards, seemingly drunk. He carried a six pack of Heineken beer, and looked like he was going to fall over at any moment.

 

One of the guards raised his handgun tensely.

 

“Who are you? What the hell are you doing here?” ordered the guard.

 

“I’m…” Howard drawled, “I’m just drunk.”

 

“Yeah,” sneered the guard, “And I’m Hannah Montana. Put down your beer!”

 

Howard complied, and raised his hands up.

 

Suddenly, the guard who was pointing his handgun at Howard writhed, and a giant splintered hole appeared in the door the guards were standing in front of. The other guard turned to look at his partner in surprise, and was immediately shot in the head by another sniper bullet. Both Jason and Howard started screaming like little girls.

 

“What was that?” yelled a confused Russian inside the apartment. He opened the door and spotted Jason and Howard.

 

“Agents!” he snarled, and pulled out a handgun. Jason and Howard screamed even louder.

 

Another crack was heard, and the Russian fell forward over the dead bodies of the two guards.

 

The three other Russians were still inside their apartment, and were yelling out panicked assumptions to each other. Then, they burst out of the apartment and fired at Howard and Jason.

 

“Oh s***!” yelled Howard, “I’m not drunk anymore!”

 

The two time travelers ran towards the end of the hallway. The three Russians chased them, firing their weapons.

 

Uberdaniel heard all this commotion from his hiding spot in the ceiling vent, but decided to wait it out. After seeing the Russians leave the apartment building, the Agent carefully loosened the vent and tightened a black cord to his waist. Then, he lowered himself upside down carefully into the bedroom. Uberdaniel edged his way to the Russians’ laptop computer and inserted a USB drive. Dangling from the ceiling, Uberdaniel watched as his self made virus started copying and compressing all of the laptop’s files into the USB drive.

 

“Move quick, Daniel,” Ubermatthew’s voice rang in Uberdaniel’s earpiece. “I don’t think those two can stay alive much longer.”

 

“Hey, don’t rush the art!” Uberdaniel replied. The virus finished its work, and Uberdaniel safely pulled out the USB drive.

 

“Files retrieved,” said Uberdaniel in a satisfied voice. “Okay, let’s get the heck out of here.”

 

“What about the two random people you picked up on the streets?” asked Ubermatthew.

 

“Just let them be,” Uberdaniel said lazily, “Our mission is complete.”

 

“Okay,” Ubermatthew complied, and on his lonely rooftop he started to disassemble his sniper rifle. But out of the corner of his eye he saw something move, and he turned to face it, pulling out a handgun.

 

Ubermatthew came face to face with a vanilla cake with pink icing and a single candle sticking out of it. The cake was situated a few feet away, on the edge of the rooftop he was on. On the cake was a beige card with the word “LIE” printed on it.

 

“Hmm, strange,” Ubermatthew said to himself, and holstered his handgun.

---

In Switzerland…

 

A fist slugged Alvin in the right cheek, and the captured Asian let out a groan of pain.

 

“That was only an appetizer of what I can do,” boasted Dementov in his Russian accent. “If you do not cough up the information, I will bring Hell down on your head!”

 

Alvin coughed and managed to glare weakly at Dementov. The massive Soviet general began pacing around the room, arms outstretched.

 

“Why are you so defiant?” Dementov asked, amused, “There is no hope for you of escaping. All I want to know is what you know. If you tell me, I may let you live. However, if you don’t tell me…”

 

Private Kaverin, who was leaning on the door, glanced at Dementov, then back at Alvin. The silent soldier knew full well how far Dementov would go to retrieve information.

 

“I will never tell you anything,” Alvin spat.

 

“Fair enough,” Dementov said. The burly general started to remove his belt. Alvin stared with wide-eyes as Dementov wrapped his belt around his right hand, with the buckle situated on top of his knuckles.

 

“I don’t know anything!” Alvin broke. “I seriously don’t know anything! I have no idea what you’re talking about! Please, don’t hit me with your belt!”

 

Dementov smiled a horrendous smile back at Alvin and raised his right hand, which was balled up into a fist.

 

“WRONG ANSWER,” said Dementov.

 

Suddenly, a foul grey gas poured through the vents and slowly engulfed the room. Alvin could smell a combination of expired milk and moldy bleu cheese. The captive quickly gagged. The other three men in the room also started coughing and choking.

 

“What the hell?” Dementov gagged. “Serenov! What the hell is that smell?!”

 

“I have no idea, sir!” Serenov gagged back.

 

Alvin tried to struggle, but the ropes bound him firmly to his chair. Private Kaverin tried to open the one door to salvation in the room, but found it was locked. The three Russians gagged and fell to their knees. Alvin himself started to faint, but was rudely awakened by a gas mask that was crudely shoved into his face.

 

“OW!” yelled Alvin in surprise. “What the heck- Victoria!”

 

Victoria secured the gas mask onto Alvin’s face before turning towards the rest of the room. Through her gas mask, she could see the three tormentors practically out cold on the floor. Victoria turned back to Alvin.

 

“Wow!” she exclaimed, “I never knew dairy products could be so useful!”

 

“What did you DO?” Alvin managed to say. He tried to spit the bleu cheese taste out of his mouth.

 

“Well, after they took you into this random house here, I went to the field we landed in earlier and milked cows!”

 

“What?” asked Alvin, disbelief on his face.

 

“And then I made ice cream!” Victoria said, excited, “And then after that I ate the ice cream! IT WAS SO GOOOOD!!!”

 

“Why didn’t you save me earlier?!” Alvin exclaimed.

 

“Because I didn’t see the need to rush,” said Victoria. “Besides, I also made some cheddar cheese! You won’t believe how hungry I was!”

 

Alvin groaned. “Victoria! You could have waited until after you saved me!”

 

“Why the rush?” asked Victoria. “Were they torturing you or something?”

 

“o__o” replied Alvin.

 

“Come on, Alvin! Let’s go! TO THE GLENSOFT BUILDING!” Victoria shouted valiantly, and left the room.

 

“Has to be the ice cream,” Alvin muttered to himself, and followed her out.

---

At Lynbrook…

“Okay, so let me get this straight,” Future Lawrence moved one hand up and down his large desk as he talked, like any authority figure would. “You are me.”

 

“Yeah,” said Lawrence, a little bit numb.

 

“You came from the past,” continued Future Lawrence slowly, “And you landed here.”

 

“Yeah,” Lawrence bobbed his head up and down in a nod.

 

“At Lynbrook,” Future Lawrence continued.

 

“Uh huh!” Lawrence replied.

 

Future Lawrence exhaled and shook his head. “I…I don’t know what to make of this.”

 

“Actually, sir, you said everything you needed to say about five minutes ago,” said Jim the security guard.

 

“Yeah, that’s true,” sighed Future Lawrence, “But I just got appointed to this job and then THIS happens. I’m still…what’s the word?”

 

“Shocked,” corrected Lawrence.

 

Future Lawrence stared at Lawrence long and hard.

 

“You just corrected me,” said Future Lawrence.

 

“Um, yeah…” said Lawrence.

 

“That is awkward,” continued Future Lawrence.

 

“I would imagine it is so,” said Lawrence.

 

“Yeah,” nodded Future Lawrence, and flipped random papers around on his desk.

 

After a few moments of awkward silence, Future Lawrence asked, “So, how exactly did you get here? I mean, who made this happen?”

 

Lawrence shrugged. “I don’t know. Alvin said it was the Apple marketing people, but-“

 

“Wait,” interrupted Future Lawrence, “Alvin?”

 

“Yeah,” said Lawrence. “Why?”

 

Future Lawrence squinted in thought. “Alvin died five years ago.”

 

“WHAT?!” shouted a surprised Lawrence.

 

“He was killed by a psychotic killer during an Agency mission to New York City. The authorities recovered his body.”

 

“But- but- that can’t happen! That just isn’t possible! WHO KILLED HIM?!?!?!?!” Lawrence shouted.

 

“The name escapes my brain,” replied Future Lawrence, “But then again, a lot of stuff escapes my brain.”

 

Lawrence started hyperventilating. “Does this mean I’m all alone in this bleak future? Is there no one left? AM I THE ONLY ONE IN THIS SITUATION?!?!”

 

Future Lawrence opened his mouth to say something, but forgot it.

---

In Switzerland…

 

Peter strode through the remains of a Swiss city, and paused to look at the wreckage of a few Swiss tanks. He held his cat Baby in his arms, and was accompanied by two his elite guard.

 

“So, this is what has become of Switzerland,” Peter said. “I laugh in the face of Switzerland! HAHAHAHA!”

 

“Sir?” interrupted one of his guards.

 

“Yes, McClellan?” asked Peter.

 

The guard, an American man named McClellan, walked up to him. “Patrick is on line one.”

 

“I’ll take it,” Peter said. The leader took out a walkie-talkie.

 

“Patrick, what’s up?” Peter said.

 

“The download is complete,” Patrick’s voice came over the walkie-talkie’s radio receiver. “I’m in the system.”

 

“Good work.” Peter said, “Lieutenant Petrenko is in a jam attempting to retrieve the Long Cat Crystal from the Glensoft vaults. I need you to deactivate the final shield protecting the crystal.”

 

“Will that be all?” asked Patrick.

 

Baby yawned.

 

“Oh, and Baby says the success of this operation rests in your paws.” Peter said quickly.

 

“Kewl,” said Patrick, and signed off.

 

Peter turned to McClellan and handed him the walkie-talkie. “McClellan, can you remind me what phase three is?” Peter said.

 

“Phase three,” said McClellan without hesitation, “is the phase in which the Long Cat Crystal is shipped back to Base 1337 in Russia, where the Activation Emitter Platform will use the Crystal to send a signal to the abandoned Long Cat starship in space telling to rendezvous at a special set of coordinates. Schematics include defense of the Crystal en route to Moscow and the conquering of Germany.”

 

“That is purrfect!” exclaimed Peter. “McClellan, I feel like having a drink right now. Transport me to the Peterbar!”

 

“Yes, sir,” said McClellan.

---

In a dreamworld…

“La la la la! Cats ho!” Hansen giddily said. He was playing with moose and cats in a large blue castle. Everything was jolly, and the sun smiled down upon him. Suddenly, a voice echoed throughout Hansen’s entire world.

 

“Hello there,” said the deep voice.

 

“Woah!” yelled Hansen, surprised.

 

“I hope you are having a good time,” continued the voice.

 

“Are you God?” asked Hansen innocently.

 

The voice laughed. “No, I am merely a mysterious figure carrying out a tenaciously devious plan.”

 

“Huh,” said Hansen, “I have no idea what those words mean!”

 

“You are to be part of my plan,” said the mysterious voice. “You shall be an instrument of my incarnation.”

 

“I have no idea what those words mean either!” said Hansen.

 

“Good,” said the voice. “For you are to become my PUPPET…”

 

“Puppies! Yay!” said Hansen happily.

 

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