Note: If you haven't yet read the new Chapter 21, I'd suggest you read it before progressing on to this last chapter. :)
The soundless car ride was interrupted by a short trip to a convenience store for some much needed oil before J. Gander's old jalopy dragged its tires into the front parking space at SHUSH Central. Two sets of webbed feet strode into the building, one pair much more purposeful and confident than the other. J. Gander hoped Jacob couldn't hear his racing heart as they entered his sober office.
"Sit…" His voice sounded muffled and strained, as if an invisible rope had him in a chokehold. When he reached his desk he cleared his throat and repeated himself a little more firmly. "Sit down."
"I prefer to stand…sir."
Jacob sounded so cold, so angry, that J. Gander could barely catch the twinge of hurt Jacob was trying hard to mask. That sound alone made the gander already regret his decision. Deep down there was the fear that this act alone would be enough to sever their friendship. But J. Gander was the director, and SHUSH always came first.
"Fine. Tell me exactly what you were doing receiving money from the Mongoose Gang?"
Jacob's eyebrows twitched minutely as he stared at his superior. "Did you know a man named Charlie Collarton?"
"No, and I don't see what that has to do with –"
"He had a wife and two kids. Owned a nice little bar for quite some time before the lowlifes took over. To protect his family and stay in business he let a few things slide, let the cons move in and do business there so long as it was under the table. But somebody didn't want to play by the rules…shoved a shotgun down his throat." He leaned forward, gripping the desk as he had done earlier that day. "The reason I was collecting money was reparations for Mr. Collarton's family. Charlie was a good man. He didn't deserve what he got. I'm going to see to it that his widow is taken care of, and what better way to do that than collecting from the same criminal scum responsible for his death?"
J. Gander was silent for a few long minutes, turning this odd narrative over in his mind. It didn't quite seem to make sense in the director's straightforward, black-and-white manner of thinking. But this wasn't paperwork, so easily definable. He raised an eyebrow behind his small spectacles.
"And why would mobsters and criminals so freely give their money to a dead man's family? Or more specifically, to you?"
"Look, John, I have my own methods. They respect me down there, and they see things my way, because they know what's there for them on the other side if they don't. If Mongoose hadn't divvied up, I'd have been a little bit more intrusive on his men's…activities. And without manpower, he knows he'll lose to Mob Hill. He has every reason to comply."
The gander's jaw hung open. "Jacob, that's completely unethical! Making deals with criminals and baiting them against one another! I've never heard of such –"
"That's because you're not out there, John. You're safe and sound in your little office puppeteering the rest of us."
"And you're out there gallivanting around with the very people we're supposed to be protecting the city from!"
"Last I checked, we weren't cops. Let them do the protecting."
"Aren't you afraid of retaliation? What about your family?"
"What about them?" Jacob snapped. "You have no idea how much I've already had to sacrifice for their sake! My independence, my freedom, my time, my job…"
"Your job? I didn't mean to imply…wait…Does this have to do with your transfer a few years back?"
The slicked back feathers on Jacob's head ruffled slightly as he ran his fingers through them, as he always did when he felt frustrated or worried.
"I didn't tell you before, but it was never my decision to break away from Blunt and stay local. It was Gail's. With Drake on the way, she wanted me home more. She gave me little room for another option." He smirked. "I hate it. Don't get me wrong, I love my family, but…I miss being out there; actually making a difference; having adventures; using intrigue, gadgets, death-defying stunts to defeat real-world threats. I've felt trapped ever since I transferred. In working with the downtown mobs to maintain order, I've found a purpose, I feel useful again. But it's not the same. Believe me, John, this isn't what I had in mind."
The gander smiled. "I know. You wanted to be on top of the world. You had to know what you were getting into when you married, though."
Jacob shifted his weight, growing tired of this subject. He'd had this same internal conversation with himself for years now. "I thought I did. I didn't plan on fatherhood taking so much away from me." He grew quiet, an agitated look returning to his aging face. He crossed his arms and stood up to his full height. "I don't take bribes, John. You know me better than that."
J. Gander struggled to put Jacob's actions in any perspective that didn't seem underhanded. "So you mean to tell me that in some strange, roundabout way you're trying to rehabilitate the cons of this city by enforcing contributions to their victims' families while at the same time allowing them to continue running their covert, illegal activities?"
"Something like that."
J. Gander rubbed his brow. It was all so bizarre, and it was too much for the bird to make sense of at the moment. But he knew for certain that no matter what happened, the last thing he could do was fire his best friend, and Jacob had never been purposely malicious or corrupt despite some of his questionable methods. Perhaps he had been too hasty in suspending the agent. Besides, if things did get out of hand, he could always assign more agents to Jacob's beat to handle things.
Finally he lifted his eyes and smiled faintly. "And to think…I want you to be my chief agent."
Jacob blinked, clearly not expecting the offer. "You're joking."
"No, I'm quite serious. All of the men here respect you and look up to you, Jacob. I know it isn't exactly your ideal, but you'll have a lot more say in the way things are run. After all, the only person you'll report to will be me. It's either this, or staying where you are. There are a lot more benefits to being the chief agent than you might think, and certainly it will help your family financially. Carrie's starting high school this year, right? In another year she'll be driving."
Jacob cringed. "Don't remind me."
John smiled. "Just think about it. Talk it over with Gail. I'll expect your answer by the end of the week. In the meantime…be careful with the way you deal with Mongoose and Hill. I trust you're doing your best to uphold the law, but you never know what a mob leader will decide to do. I want you to use more caution."
"Oh come now, John…I'm always cautious." Jacob flashed a brief boyish smirk before adding, "So…does this mean I can have my badge back?"
"Of course." J. Gander slid the badge and handgun across the desk toward his friend, but kept his hands on them as a grin filled his bill. "Once you've cleaned and organized your office."
Jacob groaned.
The next day Jacob found himself chatting with J. Gander in the hallways like old times. It was as if now that his friend knew of his activities, there wasn't so much heaviness to it, because he knew he had the director's backing. And with the director's backing Jacob knew he would have more freedom to do things his way.
They were nearing his office, a quick stop before they both headed home for the evening. "One of these days, I'm going to pull you away from that desk. I promise!" he chided John playfully as he placed his hand on the knob. "Wait up a second and I'll walk out with you. I just have to grab my coat."
It took him only a few minutes of searching in the cluttered darkness to locate it.
"Hrm…wait a minute…Aha! There you are!" He snatched it off of his leather chair, rattling it slightly, and headed out without noticing the figure slouched underneath his desk.
"Hey John…about yesterday. Something's still bothering me."
"What's that?"
Pushing open one of the glass double doors to step out in front of his friend, Jacob continued. "Just where did you get those photos of me?"
"They were sent to me anonymously," J. Gander replied. "Do you have any idea who might've wanted to ruin your career? Maybe it was one of Mongoose's men trying to get out of paying his share."
"Maybe…" the agent shrugged. "Oh, forget it. See you tomorrow."
His yellow Jaguar beeped twice, disabling its brand new car alarm system, and Jacob slid into the driver's seat, which had been his favorite place to be ever since he'd acquired the car from SHUSH.
The drive always seemed too short, and there were many nights that Jacob found himself wishing with some guilt that he could just keep on driving. But every night he pulled into the same driveway, knowing that as soon as he stepped over the threshold, it would all make sense again.
"Honey, I'm home!" he called. Though it had been a joke from the start, Jacob found that he couldn't stop using the ritualistic greeting for every homecoming.
"Oh good!" came Gail's voice from the kitchen. "We're just getting ready for dinner. Kids, set the table!"
There was a teenage scoff from the dining room. "Mom, I already did that."
"Okay, thank you, Carrie," Gail chirped, turning to give Jacob a quick peck on the bill.
The smell of roast chicken filled the air, and he could feel his mouth moisten with hunger.
"Hey, Dad!"
Jacob felt a sharp tug at his sleeve and turned to look down at his young son. He smiled broadly and scooped the ten-year-old up in his arms.
"Haha, Drake! Now you're my prisoner!!" He spun around a few times, letting Drake's legs flail out behind him as the duckling laughed gleefully. "And as punishment, you're going to eat two spoonfuls of lima beans tonight!"
"Noooo!" Drake giggled as his father sat him down at the table. "That's no fair! I could've gotten away! You just got lucky."
"Luck has nothing to do with it, son," Jacob smirked. "It's all about what's up here." He tapped his temple pointedly. "Remember that."
"I will, Dad. Hey, d'ya wanna see my science project after dinner?"
Gail came around the table and doled out portions of the home-cooked meal, and Jacob took the opportunity to fill his beak with mashed potatoes. When he swallowed, he glanced at Drake apologetically.
"I can't, kiddo. I've got a lot of work to go over." Jacob looked away quickly before he could see the disappointment on his son's face.
"Did you have a good day at work, sweetie?" Gail asked after finally sitting herself down to dinner after serving everyone else.
Jacob smiled, glad for the change of subject. "Yeah…I did."
It was the end of the week, and Jacob knew it was time to give his decision to J. Gander. Just past five o'clock he found himself trudging miserably into his disastrous office.
The plush leather chair felt uncomfortable around him, confining him behind his disorganized desk. He stood up and paced, but no amount of movement placated the turmoil indecision brought. Rarely was he unsure of anything, and it was times like these he was all too aware that the decision was a life-altering one. But he didn't have just himself to think about, he had his family too.
Would this promotion mean more sacrifice on his part? Giving up more of the mallard he was for the sake of comfort?
His agitated stare fell on the many framed photographs he had lining his desk. The one of his wedding day showed a naïve young mallard, so wrapped up in love that he'd forgotten that with love came responsibility to the one whom that love was for. The second was taken only a year after Drake's birth. A family portrait. Though he'd been thrilled at becoming a father, and even more overjoyed when he and Gail had been blessed with a son, the blatant truth was that the birth of their children had terrified him.
He had been determined to be a better father to them than his father had been to him and his brother, but he had had no idea what that meant, exactly. He still didn't. He tried what he could, mimicking those happy fathers he saw in the park or on the occasional television show, but when it came to the meaningful things, the things he knew might have a lasting impact, he avoided them altogether. Not once did he raise his voice or raise a hand to either his children or Gail, but neither did he really immerse himself in spending time with them. Although he was home almost every night, he wasn't really there. He was afraid to be. The last thing he wanted to do was screw up his kids' lives, and the best way he knew how to avoid that was to avoid them.
It wasn't that he wasn't a good father. It was that he was a coward. He loved them where he could, mostly from a distance, and they would never know how much joy and pride they had brought to his life.
He sighed.
With this new job, he could work less at SHUSH with more pay, yet at the same time being chief agent meant being chained to a desk. It meant ordering other agents out on the field while he awaited updates from within the building. He would be a prisoner. And yet, J. Gander had said that he would have a lot more say in the way things were run. Who was to say that he couldn't change the role of chief agent into a more involved one? Who was to say that he couldn't go out on missions, travelling the world like he used to?
His thoughts began to carry him away as he dreamed of having his old life back, but before he could get his head too far into the clouds, reality pulled him back down.
He couldn't go globe-trotting, he had a wife and kids. It wasn't fair to leave Gail alone to do everything, and she had expressed such an idea when she was pregnant with Drake. Her opinion wouldn't have changed by this time; she was as stubborn as he was. Then there was J. Gander. Would the director really go for his new outlook on the role of chief agent?
Suddenly he was right back where he started.
Heaving a sigh, he slumped back into the uncomfortable chair and moved to prop his feet up on the desk when something caught his eye. It was a wide manila folder stamped CONFIDENTIAL in red ink. Curious, he picked it up and tore it open at the top.
Inside was a single piece of paper which Jacob read over three times with increasing excitement. It was a mission letter, and at the bottom was the signature of Director John Gander Hooter. Jacob silently thanked his old friend. This was exactly what he needed. A chance to get out of the office and rekindle his drive, his ambition, his hunger for life. A mission would help him prove not only to J. Gander and the rest of SHUSH, but to himself, that he was still a capable and ingenious agent with the sharp wit and skills it took to be a top agent. This was the key to assuming the role of chief agent in a way befitting him. And there would be no way anyone could dispute his tactics or his leadership without being frowned upon by the organization. It was perfect! Jacob had never been more pleased to have John as a friend, and he couldn't wait to tell Gail the good news.
In the next instant he was on his way home with a bounce in his step that hadn't been there in nearly a decade. What he didn't know was that night would be the last time he would see his wife and children. The letter he'd received hadn't been left by J. Gander at all, but by an assassin hell-bent on destroying the life Jacob had. And while the SHUSH legacy Jacob would leave behind would be every bit as awe-inspiring and filled with tall tales as he would have hoped, the damage wrought upon those closest to him by his disappearance was beyond compare. He had striven to be a decent man, but those efforts had returned to him altogether unforeseen consequences. Though he'd been afraid of it, engaging with his children would have been far less destructive than his total absence would ever be.
It was a lesson learned too late for the late Jacob Mallard.
Author's Note: Well, here it is. I'm not sure how happy I am with the whole thing, but it's done and right now that's all I care about. As I said last chapter, let me know if it feels disjointed or if I forgot to wrap up any loose ends. Mind you, there are a few things I purposely glossed over. I plan on writing more Jacob fics in the future to fill those in. This was just an overview story of his life in general.
I've left it open on purpose in the end. Did Jacob disappear or did he perish? Both? I wanted to leave that up to you, the reader, to decide.
Keep an eye out for the sequel to this story, The Deeds of the Son, which tells the story of Drake from this point on.
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