Chapter 182: 168 – Sneaking In

The mouse squeaked, pulling the phone off its back with teeth. It set the phone on Dr. Zlo, using deft paws to type out a response.

Tractus, my lord.

"And where is that?" Dr. Zlo asked the mouse.

In the seas, my lord. Tractus is home to a space elevator that requires both sides to stay within a certain distance.

"Well then, it seems our first job for the Zlomobile will be in the city of elevators!" Dr. Zlo exclaimed.

The villain thrust his cane in the air, affecting a conqueror's stance. "Tractus will soon fall under the might, that is… Dr. Zlo!"

The mouse squeaked approval, and a few Jacques appeared to clap for the villain.

"Right," Dr. Zlo pointed at the Jacques. "You, go get Quartet and bring him to the front door. The rest of you start collecting gear. Cass!"

The butler appeared behind Dr. Zlo, startling Dylan as he expected the butler to show at the stairs.

"Cass! Don't sneak up behind me like that. You know how itchy my trigger finger can get."

"Sorry, boss," Cass said. "Won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't. Anyway, we have our target. Get Mabel ready and prepare your equipment. We have a fusion reactor to steal!"

Cass bowed, leaving to find Mabel. Brunhilde appeared a moment later, her hand holding a feather duster that looked more like a club than a cleaning utensil.

"I vill vatch ze house vhile you are away zen?"

"Correct. Make sure that anyone who comes knocking receives a welcome befitting the criminal mastermind that is Dr. Zlo."

Brunhilde tilted her head in confusion, "I velcome zhem az if zhey vere you?"

Dr. Zlo rolled his eyes, "No! Make sure they all run in fear! Or make them do something else that a criminal would have them do."

"Ah," Brunhilde answered. "Very vell."

"Excellent," Dr. Zlo said. "Now, to crime!"

The city of Tractus rested on the waters like a dead fish, lifeless compared to the vibrant world around it. Maybe it was the sterile look of the buildings or the eerie calm around the waters outside it, but Dylan got a distinct impression that Tractus wasn't a city people went to if they wanted to see the sights.

That wasn't to say the city didn't have beauty. No, the white structures spiraling out of the floatation device looked like ivory tusks, which gave the city a pristine look. The spires also contrasted the black material Tractus used to keep the foundation afloat, a rubbery substance that Dr. Zlo couldn't quite place. In the center of the city sat a gigantic cord, twisted together with itself an impossible number of times. A line of elevators ran up the cable, transporting various goods and passengers to the space station city above it.

"What is that smell?" Quartet complained as the team neared.

"Rubber," Cass answered. "They must have a lot of it for it to be this strong."

Dr. Zlo didn't answer. If Dylan didn't keep his concentration, he would end up retching over the side of the boat. Villains intent on stealing did not retch.

Mable pinched the bridge of her nose, "No wonder there aren't any fish around. The smell alone could drive off any monster."

Cass turned to look at his boss, "How are we going to get inside?"

The villain and his entourage were on a small yacht, a vehicle Dr. Zlo borrowed from Dextra. The player held many different modes of transportation, and this yacht was one of many scattered around the world. Sure, Dylan could have teleported directly into the city, but that wasn't as fun as trying to infiltrate it from the outside.

"To answer the question," Dr. Zlo said to Cass, "I'll have Turing here describe it."

Dr. Zlo pulled the mouse messenger from before out of his pocket. "Our recon team has worked hard to bring us the various openings in Tractus' security, so you all need to listen carefully."

Quartet scoffed, "You want us to listen to a mouse?"

"I want you to listen to my orders," Dr. Zlo shot back. "If that means listening to a mouse, you listen to a mouse. Understood?"

"Fine," Quartet huffed.

Dylan was starting to think Quartet was taking on the role of a disgruntled teenager and not that of a lieutenant looking to take over. He wondered if he could fix that somehow. No time for it now, though. Dr. Zlo had a crime to commit.

Turing the mouse scurried off Dr. Zlo and made his way toward the television screen on the yacht. A few tweaks later, the mouse had connected the phone he carried to the screen, broadcasting the texts for all to see.

Tractus sits atop a gigantic tube of air. The mouse started. The smell you experience comes from that tube and the obscene amount of rubber it uses.

"How's that important?" Cass asked.

It's important because the smell repels the more dangerous sea monsters. Turing answered. Therefore, no one bothers to patrol the areas near it. Instead, the city elected to erect a series of cameras that alert authorities if they detect any possible threats.

"So we scale the tubes and disable the cameras, and we're in," Quartet answered. "Seems simple enough."

Correct. However, that doesn't stop a few overzealous heroes from patrolling the area in the hope of finding something interesting. Therefore, there is a significant chance of getting discovered.

"Is it a risk we have to take, dear?" Mabel asked.

I'm afraid so. However, the team in Tractus has determined the best spot to enter undetected.

"And where is that?" Dr. Zlo asked.

Next to the engines.

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"That sounds dangerous," Cass said.

"We've experienced worse," Mabel replied.

"That we have," Dr. Zlo answered. "So gear up, everyone. Turing will direct us to where we need to be, and we'll be on our way."

The Jacques scattered around the yacht saluted, scrambling around to grab various ropes and other climbing equipment. While they performed their tasks, Dr. Zlo turned back to the mouse.

"Have the team in Tractus inform us of the reactor's location when we're on-site."

Understood, my lord.

Turing unhooked the phone from the television and hoisted it onto his back. He made his way back into Dr. Zlo's pocket, ready to receive any new information from the other mice. Once he settled back in, Dr. Zlo turned his eyes on the city of Tractus.

"Soon, you will be mine!" he exclaimed.

A minute later, the yacht settled next to the gigantic tube of rubber that held Tractus above the sea.

"You know, it looks a lot bigger up close," Quartet said.

"A trick of the light," Dr. Zlo said, though even he had to admit the tube was massive.

The black stretch of rubber covered most of the group's vision now that the yacht pulled up next to it, a massive overhang that masked them from any prying eyes in the city.

"Jacques, get the boat anchored!" Dr. Zlo shouted. "The rest of you start climbing!"

"With what?" Quartet complained.

A Jacques tapped the minion on the shoulder, offering an ice pick it had found scouring the yacht.

Quartet raised an eyebrow, "An ice pick? Really?"

The Jacques nodded eagerly. Quartet looked to Dr. Zlo.

"Please tell me you have a better idea."

"I always have better ideas," Dr. Zlo answered. "Jacques, hand me the rope."

A minion saluted, handing over a rope to the villain.

"Now, I'll take this, fly up, and tie the rope around something secure. From there, we'll make a rope ladder or use another climbing device."

"But boss, that would leave you alone," Cass argued.

Dr. Zlo laughed, "You think that I'll be in trouble on my own? Me? The world's greatest criminal mastermind? Why, Cass, I'm almost insulted."

"I'm just worried, boss. The mouse said there were heroes on patrol."

"Which is why I'm almost insulted, Cass," Dr. Zlo said. He activated the rocket shoes and started climbing through the air. "Besides, I'm more than a match for a measly hero!"

With that, the villain shot up, leaving the yacht and his minions behind.

Cass stared after him, worry on his face. "I hope he'll be okay," the minion said.

"Dear, if there's anything I know about Dr. Zlo, it's that he always ends up okay," Mabel answered.

"Right, now that he's gone," Quartet said, "We should get ready. Someone start making climbing gear."

Mabel cocked an eyebrow, "Who left you in charge?"

"I'm obviously in charge," Quartet answered. "I'm the most competent after the boss."

"I think no one's in charge if the boss is gone," Cass said. "Boss is always in charge."

"And what are you going to do if someone comes and ambushes us?" Quartet protested. "What will we do if there isn't a concrete chain of command?"

"I think we can handle it," Mabel answered. The woman walked over to one of her Jacobs, who prepared a chair to sit in.

"Now, listen here," Quartet started.

"No, dear," Mabel said. "You listen. I've been with Dr. Zlo longer than you have, which means that if anyone's in charge, it's me. Now, be a dear and go make me a cup of tea."

"You can't–" Quartet started, only to freeze up as Mabel's control took hold.

"You…" the minion growled.

"Ah, ah, ah," Mabel said. "I like my men quiet. Now, the tea?"

Quartet tried to protest but couldn't stop his body from moving to the yacht's kitchen and preparing a cup of tea. Cass stood back from the whole debacle, glad that the fight didn't focus the two's attention on him.

"I hope you're quick, boss," Cass murmured.

The Jacques near Cass pat the butler on the back consolingly. They knew all too well how dangerous it was to get caught in the crossfire of power struggles.

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