Ferb's POV

Bacon.

The aroma drifted through the corridors, tickling Ferb's nose and beckoning him to follow. Ferb drifted in a trance-like state, through the hallway, three doors down, left at the right hand bend down the stairs fifteen steps east and then finally to the human's mess hall (it was formed because the pigs, chickens, and other agents formed a protest group when they learned that roast beef was to be served for dinner. Monty Monogram then promptly renovated the old TV room into a dining area and kitchen. Occasionally, agents who weren't bothered by the human's food visited and dined with Carl, Monty, and Ferb.)

To Ferb's left there was an open area that led to the kitchen. Carl was there, busy flipping pancakes with one hand and scrambling eggs with the other. The rising steam and sizzling of hot grease made Ferb remember before...

Ferb's heart beat faster. The temperature suddenly seemed to drop and the world around him faded away. He was alone.

"Ah, hello Agent F." Monty's voice snapped Ferb out of his trance-like state. "Glad you could make it."

Ferb smiled wryly. "That new alarm system is quite..."

"Effective?" Carl's voice piped up. He walked out of the kitchen holding a pitcher of orange juice, which he promptly set down in front of Monty. "Amazing? Ingenious?"

"Now Carl..."

Ferb grinned. "I was going to say cruel."

"Well Agent P enjoys it, I think it's a GREAT idea, the agents are on time, Monogram isn't grumpy. Everyone's happy. People just don't appreciate my intellect..." Carl huffed.

"Don't get so cocky." Monty warned. "And you know I hate it when you call me Monogram."

Carl was about to open his mouth when Ferb sniffed the air. "Is something burning?" He asked.

"MY QUICHE!" Carl shrieked, and dashed back into the kitchen.

Monty watched him go, a bemused expression on his face. He cleared his throat. "Well then. While Carl tends his quiche, we better get down to business." Monty settled back in his chair and propped his feet up on the table.

"Over the years, the OWCA has successfully defended the world from evil. To tell you the truth, the villains weren't even bright. Their plans were dunce. This has been a great advantage for us, but of course, there were rare occasions when an EG reached an epiphany."

*EG was the agency's formerly unpopular acronym for Evil Guy. Ever since Monty took over, acronyms became a thing. Pronounced "egg", it has since been a part of every new recruit's regular vocabulary.

"However, according to our tallies and estimations, the numbers of near-unsuccessful missions have gone up. Injury rates have also increased, but luckily there haven't been any fatalities...yet. We think that EGs are becoming...smarter." Monty paused, letting his words sink in.

"Now I know it sounds like I'm making a mountain out of a molehill, but this is serious. If, in fact, the enemy is coming up with better ideas, the Tri-State Area may be in serious danger."

A projector slid down from a panel on the roof. As if on cue, Carl came back in with a tray full of pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, toast, and fruit. He set it down and quickly went back into the kitchen, but not before stealing a few bites. Monty took a piece of toast and scarfed it down.

"Mffm. Wait a shec." Monty swallowed and then picked up a remote. He pressed a button and a slide popped up. The face seemed familiar to Ferb. Almost like...

"Is that…Heinz?"

"Olga Doofenshmirtz, actually. Heinz's cousin twice removed. She recently immigrated to the Tri-State-Area. We didn't know about her until this." Monty pressed another button, and the lights went dim. A video clip appeared on the screen. Monty pressed play.

News clip. Ferb observed. A very bedraggled reporter stood on a street, the charred wreckage of a building behind him.

"…Firefighters tried desperately to put it out, but all efforts were in vain as the fire soon consumed the whole complex. Luckily, no one was injured. Police suspect that this has been the work of an arsonist, and a very good one at that. Investigators are on scene now. No more information has been released."

The screen darkened, and the lights turned back on. Ferb blinked a few times.

"Well, what do you think?"

"Do you know who was behind this?" Ferb inquired.

"Olga, of course."

"Well, then has she been brought to justice?"

"HA. Agent R caught her and brought her to OWCA headquarters. She's too dangerous to even be kept in a normal jail."

"But it was just a building."

Monty reached for a grape. "Not any building. That was the future of OWCA. We were planning to use that building as a training facility slash meeting area slash backup headquarters."

"How could she have known?"

Monty shrugged. "We don't know."

"Then what happened to her? Where is she now?"

Monty's face grew bright red. "Erm…She kind of…escaped."

Ferb's eyes widened. "ESCAPED? WHAT?"

"It was an honest mistake! She escaped through the ventilation system. We don't even know what happened!"

"But…but…that's a danger to society! She could be…she could be plotting! Something could…" Ferb's voice rose an octave with every sentence. "Are the police notified?"

"Well, no. They don't even remember the fire. No one does. Any investigation by the police would put the OWCA at risk. We can't have people knowing it exists."

"How…?"

"Carl shot a widespread selective-memory eradicating beam. Simple, really."

"Another great idea!" Carl called. Ferb sighed. "Then…why did you call me?"

Monty stood up, his expression grim. "We've found her. Vancouver, Canada. 2239 Cypress Ave. You, Agent F, are the best. We need you to stop Olga once and for all."