Episode Three: Betrayal, Part Three

Poupon waited until the others left before he turned to his brother. "What is going on, Dijon? What are you not telling me?" He fell into another coughing fit. After that one subsided he collapsed to the floor, weakened. Dijon helped him stand and led him out of the study. Remembering where Poupon's room was from the last visit, that was where Dijon brought him, gently guiding him to his bed, where he laid down.

"I don't know, Poupon." Dijon honestly answered. "We were originally hired to find some objects and return them to our employer Shere Khan, but now that has gone wrong."

"Your employer is the tiger that woman mentioned earlier, I presume." Poupon guessed with more certainty than he would ever know. "Dijon, every time I see you, you are in deeper and deeper trouble. If you're not stealing, you're working for a criminal. If not that, it's working with… people like your new friends." His muzzle wrinkled with distaste. "I used to fear that you would never change in my lifetime and now I know."

"I suppose you'll be calling me demon spawn next." Dijon muttered, pouring a drink of water from a pitcher nearby for Poupon.

He accepted the glass of water. "What was that?"

Dijon sighed. "Nothing, forget it. It doesn't matter."

"Dijon, I can't predict the future, but I fear for you if you stay with those people. No good can come of your association with them. You will come to a tragic end. I can tell that not one of them has ever done an honest deed a day in their lives. Are you staying with them?"

"I have no choice. I have to."

"There is always a choice." Poupon insisted, drawing himself up. "You can choose to live the life you have, or -"

"Or I can be holed up for the rest of my life in a mosque somewhere because Mama insisted. No thank you." Dijon's tone was uncharacteristically sarcastic.

Poupon lowered his head.

Dijon regretted the words as soon as they came out. "Poupon, I'm sorry. You know I didn't mean it."

"I know you didn't." Poupon said softly. "But I know why you are really doing all this: pure greed. Dijon, I don't want to lose you to greed the way we lost our father."

Dijon's eyes flashed in disbelief. Their father was one of many subjects the two of them never talked about. For Dijon he was nothing more than a dim memory, a distant voice in his mind, a face he could barely recall. For Poupon he was a source of irritation, someone who he didn't want to recall. Mama was the same way. When he was younger, Dijon would often pester his mother and brother with questions about their father, but Poupon's answer was always the same: "Please don't talk about him." Their mother was convinced that he was the devil incarnate, and she could never resist referring to him as a demon. "What does he have to do with this? I don't even know if he's alive or dead."

Poupon shook his head. "Of course you don't remember him. He left home when you were five. He ruined our lives."

"I don't know what you're talking about. Anyways, living with him would have been better than living with Mama."

"Allah forbid it!" Poupon tried to shout, but his voice and body were too weakened by his mysterious affliction to get much louder then his normal speaking tone. "Why do you think Mama reverted back to her maiden name after he left? Why do you think she became angry if we spoke even a word of Spanish? Because it was his native language and he taught it to us! She didn't want anything to remind her of that man and what he did to us! He ruined our lives, neglected our mother and us, and hurt us. He was obsessed with gold and finding this golden city -"

"- where even the rivers are gold and gold could be plucked from the very walls." Dijon finished. "I remember that much about him. He used to tell me that story every night. But I also remember Mama and how she would tell me I was a worthless bum, and how she would keep the door locked even though she knew I was standing outside. She would ignore me while I looked in through the window staring at her. Back then I don't know who I hated more - her for doing it, Papa for leaving and being such an awful person to be compared to, me for causing her to hate me, or you because she loved you more."

"She was scared. Sometimes she would cry when she came to the temple and told me how you were. You broke her heart, and she was afraid that you would end up like him." A silence fell over the two brothers.

Exhausted from having talked so much, Poupon shivered. Dijon pulled the covers over his brother.

"Do you still hate me?" Poupon asked.

Dijon sighed. "No, I don't." There was still so much that he wanted to say to Poupon however. That he wasn't a bad person. That he didn't understand how Mama could proclaim to love him but then treat him the way she had. And he couldn't really speak for the rest of the Dirty Near Dozen, but Morgana and Shenzi weren't bad or dishonest like Poupon believed they were either. But every time he looked down at Poupon's gaunt form and labored breathing, the words died before he could get them out. "I don't even know if I hate her now. What's the matter?"

"I'm really sick. I caught it last winter and I kept thinking it would get better, but now I don't think I'm going to make it."

Dijon held Poupon's hand as the monk drifted off to sleep.

Scrooge McDuck paced around his desert campsite, growing more and more frustrated with each turn of his webbed feet. Fenton Crackshell, his loyal accountant and current traveling companion, watched the septuagenarian duck from where he sat in the entranceway of their tent, seeking refuge from the relentless heat.

"We've searched high and low for that temple for three days and haven't found a thing!" Scrooge complained.

"Maybe we should go back to Duckburg." Fenton suggested.

Scrooge leveled a ferocious glare at him. "We have to find it and we are nae goin' home until we do!"

When Scrooge had turned away, Fenton rolled his eyes and shook his head. He shouldn't have even suggested going home, he knew. Ever since Launchpad McQuack had taken that job in St. Canard and Mr. McDuck's nephews had moved back in with their uncle Donald last year, Scrooge had been jumping from one treasure hunt to another, each more dangerous than the last. Maybe it was to fill a void left by his loved ones, or to overcompensate for those losses, or just to prove that even though he was getting on in age he could still do it. Fenton didn't know. He wasn't a psychiatrist, but he knew what it meant for him personally: extended hours, near-constant dangerous situations, being Gizmoduck more than Fenton, and lots of time away from his fiancée Gandra Dee. But he didn't want to tell Scrooge all that.

"Do ye have the map, lad?" Scrooge asked him, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Yes sir." Fenton nodded obediently. The map was right there with him in the tent on top of the sheets. They'd been studying it earlier.

"Well we need tae study it more, maybe head further north." Scrooge said, squatting down and using a stick he'd found to scrawl out yet another possible route through the desert in the sand. Without looking up from his handiwork he motioned for Fenton to come over. The two of them were so caught up in planning their next move that they didn't hear a tearing sound as something ripped a big hole in the tent flap near the bottom, or see a grappling hook slip inside. Its clamps, which seemed to move of their own accord, took hold of the map.

Fenton happened to turn around just in time to see the map being pulled through the newly-made hole. "Mister McDuck! Someone just took the map!"

Scrooge seared him with a look that could've melted a glacier. "You were supposed to be guarding it!"

"I'm sorry sir, but look!" Fenton pointed to the hole in the tent flap. "Something - or rather, someone tore through here. There's only one thing to do!" Quickly he dug around inside the tent and came back out with a large brown suitcase which had been obscured under the sheets. Opening it, he uttered the words, "Blatherin' blatherskites!"

What appeared to be individual pieces of armor and other bits of machinery suddenly flew out of the suitcase as if energized and began attaching themselves to Fenton. Once the transformation was complete, in place of the accountant now stood a figure outfitted in formidable-looking mostly white power armor. He was supported by a single wheel, and a helmet obscured much of his face, save for his bill. "This is a job for Gizmoduck!"

"Yer nae goin' anywhere without me! That's me map!" Scrooge proclaimed, following Gizmoduck as the superhero sped out into the desert.

Clutching the map in his hand (yes, hand, as he'd switched out the grappling hook in order to hold the map better), Warp ran back to the place where the others were waiting for him. A large rock formation peeked out of the sand, offering precious shade that the team was taking cover in. They were out in the wilderness now. Mountains and miles of sand had replaced paved streets and buildings.

"Still got it." Warp crowed, regarding Mozenrath smugly. "I believe some apologies are in order."

"AllrightI'msorryfordoubtingyouyoudidagoodjob." Mozenrath mumbled.

Realizing that it was as close to an apology as he was would get from his rival, Warp didn't pursue the issue any further. Instead he set the map down on a rock and carefully rolled it out. It was faded and yellowed, the paper brittle with age and dotted with symbols and markings. At the bottom of the map was an inscription written in ancient Arabic. Mozenrath translated it for the others, who'd gathered around for a better look at their prize. "The temple lies in a canyon in the mountains."

"Cool, so where to first?" Lucretia asked.

"First stop is the two hills."

"I see them." Shenzi pointed to the hills rising ahead of them. "Let's go!"

"I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that!" What could only be described as a loud and stereotypically "heroic" voice interrupted their plans. What looked to be a duck in high-tech armor that was mounted on one wheel like a unicycle wheeled out from behind the rocks to block their way.

"How long do you stay fresh in that tin can?" Warp cracked.

"That's the pot calling the kettle rusted." The duck retorted, referring to the ex-ranger's suit and cybernetic arm. "You are in the presence of Gizmoduck. Now, hand over the map, evildoers!"

Morgana tried to obscure herself behind her cohorts, who were surprised by the superhero's entrance, as discreetly as she could, but to no avail. Gizmoduck instantly recognized her and was equally taken aback. "Morgana? What are you doing here?"

Her cover blown, Morgana gave up on hiding and revealed herself to her Justice Duck teammate. "Well, I had to find something to fill my time after you gave me the boot!"

"Good job, hon. Take that anger and build on it." Lucretia commented in a stage whisper from where she was standing.

"I'm sorry it had to come to that, but what you did was a clear breach of Justice Duck protocol." Gizmoduck replied. There was an unhappy note to his voice.

"Listen, I love a good reunion just like the next person," Mozenrath jumped in, "But we need to find that Oracle, so we'll be keeping the map."

"So do we. Now, I'd like my map back!" A new speaker, this one Scottish if his accent was anything to go by, angrily declared. Scrooge McDuck strode onto the scene, his cane pointing at them.

"Now come on." Lucretia purred, slinking over to Gizmoduck. draping herself over him, she began playing with his bill. "We just need that itty bitty map, and then we'll be on our lil' old way."

Gizmoduck could only blush under his helmet and stammer.

Scrooge used his cane to lightly tap Lucretia on her shoulder. When he had the taller duck's attention, he waved a dollar bill at her. "Lass, here's a fifty. Stay away from my bodyguard."

Lucretia's mouth dropped open. "I am not a prostitute!" But she removed herself from Gizmoduck and discreetly pocketed the bill.

Hearing the high-pitched whine of an electronic device of some kind charging, Gizmoduck turned to see Robert and Dawn behind him. Their respective laser rifle and blaster were aimed dead center at him.

"No hard feelings, Gadgetduck." Robert bluntly told him. "This is just business." Both pulled the triggers.

Nothing happened. Bemused, the two of them stared down at their weapons.

A compartment on Gizmoduck's suit opened, and a couple of metal arms ending in claws popped out. Extending outwards, the arms snatched the guns out of their surprised owners' grasps and brought them to Gizmoduck. He then very calmly broke the rifle in half before simply crushing the blaster in one hand before dropping both ruined guns to the ground.

"Okay, color me impressed." Lightning remarked to no one in particular.

While Gizmoduck appeared to be distracted with Robert and Dawn, Shenzi rushed in from behind and jumped on him. Still completely calm, he pressed a button on his right gauntlet that sent out a small electric shock. Stunned by the shock, Shenzi lost her grip and landed hard on her backside.

"Ow… not one of my better ideas…" She groaned.

Mozenrath took the opportunity to make a break for it with the map, only to be intercepted by Scrooge. He grabbed hold of the other end of the map in an attempt to wrest it away from Mozenrath.

"Very stupid, old man!" Mozenrath growled through gritted teeth. A tug-of-war broke out – up until the point the map ripped right down the middle.

"Look what you did!" Duck and wizard shouted at each other in the same instance.

The others had also witnessed the accident. "Why can't we just fix it?" Dawn asked as she and the rest of the group approached the bickering pair.

"Sure. Got some scotch tape or glue?" Lucretia joked.

Dawn sniffed. "I just asked."

"It was partially created with the magic of whoever made it, so once torn it can't be bound again." Mozenrath groaned, rubbing a hand across his eyes.

"I hate all this fairy tale crap." Warp grumbled.

Gizmoduck stated the obvious. "Well, it looks like we'll have to work together, even if we don't like it." He glanced over in Morgana's direction. For her part, Morgana looked away from the other duck.

An incredulous Mozenrath scoffed. "Yeah, how about we don't and just say that we did?"

Scrooge was on the same page. "What? Are ye daft, man? I'll nae work with a bunch of crooks!"

The others just stared at the duo.

"Well… all right." Scrooge reluctantly began. "But dinnae be surprised when this is all over that I have ye arrested!" He pointed at Mozenrath.

"And dinnae be surprised that once this is over ye will nae be able tae find us, laddie!" Mozenrath shot back, mocking Scrooge's accent.

The back and forth earned an eye roll from Warp. "C'mon, could we just get on with finding this Oracle thing already? It ain't gettin' any cooler out here."

The others echoed his impatience to leave, even Gizmoduck. So the Dirty Half Dozen (currently down by one), along with Scrooge and Gizmoduck, started the arduous trek across the desert to the two hills.