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Tower Town, Chapter 35 - Baby's Day Out

Peppino walked down the street, carrying Tony in the crook of his arm. The youngster, almost three now, was looking around, pointing at anything that caught his eye, telling his Papa all about it in laughing tones. Peppino dutifully oohed and ahhed at every single one. The world was still new and bright to the child.

He was careful to keep those feelings at the front of his mind. The little boy’s telepathy was getting strong now, almost uncontrollable, and as keyed up as Peppino was, he didn't want to scare the child more than he could help.

For once, Giuseppe wasn't available. Understandable, at least. Anita was in labor with their second child, and Giuseppe already had his hands full keeping Sofia, now a rambunctious toddler, out of trouble while supporting his wife. Gustavo was working. Even Margherita was feeling under the weather. So, for the first time ever, Peppino was having to leave the boy at a daycare. It would be the first time Tony had been left alone, without someone he already knew.

The thought was giving Peppino fits.

As he walked through the doors of the daycare, a matronly Pig walked from behind the counter. “Hello there, Mr. Spaghetti!” She greeted him airily, “I suppose this is little Tony, eh?” She held her hands out to take him.

Peppino hesitated. He'd been extremely unsure about the entire situation, and now he was having second, third, and fourth thoughts. He mentally shook himself. It's just for a few hours, Pino, he thought, and they're the best-vetted place in town! Reluctantly, he handed over his son.

Immediately Tony turned and looked up at the woman's face. He seemed curious, but then he turned and held his arms out to Peppino. “Papa? Wanna come back now.”

For the umpteenth time that morning, Peppino's heart clenched. He put on a smile, but it was very forced. “You'll be staying with Mrs. Iggsley for a few hours, my little polpetta,” he said, trying to keep the quaver out of his voice, “I'll be back very soon to get you, bene?”

The way Tony's face shifted was almost a caricature - his bottom lip was stuck out in a frown, and his eyes were huge, shimmering with unshed tears. He'd inherited a powerful set of emotions, and they frequently overloaded the little boy. He's too young to learn to control them yet, Peppino thought sadly.

Peppino put a hand on Tony's head. “It'll just be for a few hours, Antonio. I have to go…”

Immediately Tony burst out into a full-throated bawl, his eyes showering tears, and he reached up and grabbed Peppino's forearm with both little fists, gripping on with superhuman strength.

Peppino was on the verge of a breakdown. He hated doing this, but he didn't have any other choice. Gently (but having to use his own super-strength) he prized the boy's hands off his arm. “I'm sorry, polpetta, I'll be back as soon as I can!” He looked up at Mrs. Iggsley. “I hope he doesn't give you too much trouble…”

The woman shrugged and smiled. “He's not the first, and he won't be the last, Mr. Spaghetti. If anything happens we'll let you know, all right?”

As she turned to walk away, Tony's wails turned into full-on screams, and Peppino reached out a hand reflexively. “You, ah, you-a know about-a his strength, tu no?”

She turned, smiling. “Oh, yes. We'll take good care of him, Mr. Spaghetti, never fear!”

Peppino nodded sadly. He knew there was no way yet to make his son understand that this was only a temporary thing - even as developed as he was, some things just took time to understand.

So he waved, turned, and left.

He broke into a run so fast he had to check himself from breaking the glass around him with a sonic boom.

~~~~

Fake was in the kitchen, happily grumbling to themself, when the young woman who Peppino had recently hired came quietly through the doors.

“Mister, um, Mister Fake…” she said meekly.

Fake turned gently, carefully trying not to surprise her, but not so slowly they seemed more creepy than they already were. She'd already proven a shy, nervous type. “Yes, Carrie? Can I help you?”

She looked down and shuffled her feet. “It's, um, it's Mr. Peppino, sir. He's acting… strange.”

Fake nodded. “Morrrre than usual, you mean?”

She looked up and nodded. “Could you please come check on him?”

Fake quickly wiped their hands on a towel. “Of courrrrrse.”

The young woman quickly went back outside, moving towards the register. Fake followed behind.

Peppino leaned forward onto the counter, one arm draped and dangling off, the other clutching his chef's hat. He was staring off into space, his eyes distant and blank. He seemed to be muttering to himself.

Fake felt a twinge of concern. While he was much better than he'd been before (by Peppino's own words, anyway - Fake hadn't been there for Peppino's many, many breakdowns), and especially so since Tony's birth, he seemed in the middle of a full meltdown.

Fake glanced around - the pizzeria was empty for the moment. A mercy, there. They moved forward, gently touching the man's shoulder. “Peppino?” Fake said quietly. “Arrrre you all right?”

The man seemed to be muttering to himself in Italian. “Come potresti farlo? Si fida di te! E lo hai lasciato solo! Deve odiarmi! Come potrei farlo? Mio figlio! Sono un padre orribile…”

Fake leaned back. He was castigating himself over leaving Tony. It's a daycare, it's not like he abandoned the boy on a street corner! Fake shook his shoulder. “Peppino. Peppino! Stop! You'rrre spooking the customerrrrrs!”

The man seemed not to hear them. He continued muttering imprecations on himself.

Fake harrumphed. We have to snap him out of this! Then they had an idea. This is a bit dirty, but it should work…

Fake leaned back and carefully reshaped their voicebox to as close as they could remember. In a great bellow, Bruno's voice rang out…

“Spaghetti! Vieni qui ORA!”

Peppino yelped and leapt to his feet, spinning, his eyes wild with anxiety. He looked around quickly, confused. “Signore Tagliatelle! Mi dispiace! Non volevo... aspettare, questo non è…” He paused, his eyes cleared, and he glared at Fake, who was crouching back down. “That was a nasty-a trick, Fake.”

Fake shook their head, but they didn't seem too contrite. “It worked, didn't it?”

Peppino grumbled, but agreed.

Fake put their hands on their hips. “So, what's the problem, Peppino? If we had any customerrrrrs right now, you'd be spooking them quite nicely."

Peppino looked to the side, rubbing his right arm. “I-a feel so bad, leaving-a Tony with-a strangers. He was bawling his little-a eyes out when I left…”

Fake shook their head. “We're harrrrdly the person to come to for parental advice, Peppino,” they said, “but we do know that it had to happen evennnnntually. We can't stay with them forever.”

“I know, I know,” Peppino grumbled. “But…”

Carrie ambled over. “Mr. Peppino, I know I'm just butting in, but… I have to say, you acting this way about it just means you really care.” She paused, nodded, and scurried back to the register, looking terrified.

The two men, looking a little stunned, turned back to each other. “She's got a point, Peppino,” Fake said.

“But what do I do??” Peppino said, almost wailing. “I can't-a stand it!”

“I'd say look forward to getting him back,” Fake said cautiously. “It's not forever, Peppino, just a day. One that you'll have to repeat. It's part of life.”

Peppino stroked his goatee, thinking on Fake's words, as the being ambled back to the kitchen. Why am I reacting so badly to this?

The answer came almost immediately. I'm afraid of hurting him. Of hurting someone I care about again. Of failing them.

Despite his realization, he knew it wouldn't be as simple as that to resolve. He resolved to call his Mama that night. I could use some motherly advice.

Peppino felt his pocket vibrate, and quickly pulled it out. Giuseppe! He clicked the link from his brother -

The image showed Anita, looking tired but smug, in a hospital bed, in the background. In the foreground, a hugely-smiling Giuseppe held a small bundle, out of which peered a red, wrinkled face.

Meet Gustavo Sergio Spaghetti!

Peppino smiled brilliantly. The name said a lot. After all the vitriol they felt towards him after our breakup, at least they've managed to remember who he is, not just how he was, for a time. “Hey, Fake! Come-a back out here for a minute!” He waved Carrie over. “Let me show you my new nephew!”

The young woman seemed reluctant, but moved over. Fake came back out and leaned over Peppino's shoulder.

The young woman’s demeanor changed entirely. “Aww, he's adorable!” She cooed. She leaned in closer, making baby talk at the screen.

Fake and Peppino looked at each other, smiling. “Didn't take herrrr long, did it?”

Peppino chuckled. “Optimized health can-a do that. And it's-a not like it's her first. Mothers often-a have less trouble with later births.”

Carrie leaned over, making a questioning noise. “Mr. Peppino? Is something wrong with the baby's eye?”

“Giuseppe didn't say anything about it…” Peppino said, zooming the image in; then, seeing what it was, he laughed loudly. “Ha ha ha! Those are-a crosshairs! He's-a inherited Anita's power!”

Carrie looked at Peppino, confused. “She has powers, too?”

“Oh, just-a the one,” Peppino said airily, “but it's a doozy! She can zoom in and-a out like a scope, and once she's-a locked on to something, she almost never misses!”

“Like Sheriff Lantte?” She said.

“Yep! Exactly alike, in fact,” Peppino crowed. “Strange-a coincidence, that.”

“Does… does everyone in your family have powers?” Carrie said quietly.

Peppino nodded. “Sì, everyone I know, anyway.” She looked uncomfortable. “Does no one in-a your family have powers?” Peppino said, surprised.

“No,” she said. “Well, I think one cousin can make wood change color or something, but no big, special powers.” She looked envious.

Peppino turned to her. “Ragazza, having powers is as much a curse as a blessing,” he said firmly.

“It must be nice, though,” she said wistfully.

Peppino reflected on all his broken furniture over the years, the repair bills… the number of times I've almost killed someone by losing my temper… “It has-a its problems.” He pulled at his beard. “I mean, look at-a little Tony. He's-a already showing the same strength that Seppe and I have. But he's so young… he can't control it. I'm afraid…” his eyes lit up.

Carrie looked surprised. “What is it, Mr. Spaghetti?”

“Call me Peppino,” he said absently. “I think I just-a figured out the other reason I'm-a worried. I'm afraid Tony could-a hurt someone… or himself.”

Carrie giggled. “There's probably a good dose of daddy-worry in there, too.” Then she put her hands over her mouth and gasped. “I'm so sorry, Mr - I mean, Peppino! I didn't mean to be so familiar!”

Peppino shook his head, coming back to reality, and laughed. “Non c'è problema, ragazza. I told you before, I don't stand on ceremony.”

“But Mr. Brando calls you Signore,” she countered.

“Brando is… a special case,” Peppino said. “He’s-a my student, not-a my employee. He insists. I'd prefer others weren't-a so… formal.”

“Oh, right,” she said hurriedly. “He's so good that I forgot you said he's still in his apprenticeship.”

Peppino chuckled. “He insists I still have a lot to teach him… but I'm-a not so sure. As you said, he's-a quite good.” Peppino shrugged. “He just-a needs to realize that.”

“He seems to enjoy working here, though,” Carrie said. “Maybe he just doesn't feel ready to go out on his own yet?”

“Probabilmente è vero,” Peppino said. “You have another good point, ragazza.” He waved a hand. “Now, as-a your boss, I'm ordering you to be less-a stiff and-a more relaxed. Inteso?”

The girl seemed to argue with herself, then stomped her foot. “All right! I'll try!”

“Bene,” Peppino said, smiling. “Now. I'm-a sorry for spooking everyone. That's-a being said…” he said, scratching the back of his head and looking embarrassed, “I think I'll-a call and just… check in.”

“All right,” she said, smiling. “I think I can handle out here. I can always ask Mr. Fake for help.”

“Grazie for understanding, ragazza,” Peppino said. “You know, you should-a be more assertive more often, too. You're sharper than-a you seem.”

As the chef went back through the doors, Carrie contemplated what he'd said. Then she felt a wave of suppressed panic wash over her, and she sat down, giddy. I can't believe I talked to my boss like that! And he was Ok with it! Even told me to do it more often!

As she sat, turning her thoughts over in her head, the bell jingled, and sheleapt to her feet. “Oh, so sorry! Welcome to Peppino's!”

~~~~

Peppino sat down at the desk in his new office. A recent addition, everyone other than Peppino had insisted. “Listen, Pep, if you're gonna run a franchise, it's not gonna look good to be doing it out of the closet of your kitchen,” Gustavo had said.

It wasn't as big as everyone had wanted it to be, but it was well-appointed.

He leaned back in the chair. He'd splurged a bit more with it; well-padded and sturdy, he leaned back and smiled. I really should do things like this more often. Pulling out his phone, he dialed the daycare. After several rings, a perky female voice chimed through. "Little Smiles Daycare, can I help you?"

Behind the chirpy voice, Peppino heard several little voices screaming. Peppino's alarm rose. Oh Mio Dio, I hope that isn't Tony! “Ciao, signora, this is Peppino Spaghetti, I was just calling to check on-a my son, Tony?”

What sounded like a small avalanche came through the phone, and Mrs. Iggsley's voice clearly said, “get off of that, you little devil!”

“Mio Dio, signora, is everything all right?” Peppino said.

The young woman laughed. “Thank you, sir, but this is nothing unusual. In fact, your son is the only one that isn't causing trouble. He's just been playing by himself. Until, um…”

Peppino's heart jumped. “ ‘Until-a, um’ what?”

“Er, well, one of the other kids decided they wanted the toy Tony was playing with, and, um, a scuffle broke out.”

“Is he OK??” Peppino tried not to yell, standing up in alarm.

“He's fine, sir, he's fine,” she said hurriedly, “but when the other child tried to hit him, he pushed them away… across the room.”

Peppino sat back down heavily. “Oh, Madonna Santa… are they alright?”

The voice perked back up. “Oh, it's nothing unusual here! The walls are quite well padded! The other child received no real injuries. Just a bruise. And frankly, the child in question is quite a little bully. Always terrorizing the other children. Personally, I think little Tony put some much-needed fear in them!”

Peppino relaxed, but just a little. “So he's-a OK? They're not-a filing charges or anything?”

“No worries, Mr. Spaghetti,” she responded. “We have very good insurance. Everyone knows some children are powered. We keep an eye on them.”

“So, um, why-a all the noise?” Peppino said, perplexed.

The woman snorted. “Your son isn't the only one here with a strong power, sir. Mrs. Iggsley can handle it.” A pause. “Did you want to come pick him up?”

Peppino thought for a moment. “No. No, I think we'll be fine. Thank you for-a humoring me.”

“It's nothing unusual,” she said happily. “Especially for first-timers! If anything happens, we'll let you know ASAP, okay?”

Peppino agreed mechanically, and they hung up.

Fake slipped in while he looked at the ceiling. “Everything allllll right?”

Peppino filled Fake in, and the clone chuckled. “Glee hee hee. Kids will be kids, we suppose.” They paused, then crouched down a bit farther. “Peppino, can we suggest something?”

Peppino raised his eyebrows. “Have you come up with something new to put on-a the menu?”

Fake shook their head. “No, something for you. Go pick up your son early.”

Peppino leaned back. “Weren't you the one who was suggesting I don't-a do that earlier?”

Fake shrugged. “The day is slow. And your son is probably missing you. He's used to his uncle caring for him, after all. And…” they stopped.

“And…?” Peppino prompted.

“Peppino, we must ask - is anything different between you and…”

Peppino sighed. “We still talk, Fake, but it's-a purely business,” Peppino said. “Gustavo… from what I hear, he hasn't so much as-a glanced at another partner since our breakup.”

“But… how do you feel?” Fake prompted.

Peppino turned, looking out the small window. “I wish… I wish he would come back. Everyone has buried the hatchet… except-a him. It's-a been a year.”

The pair sat in silence for several minutes. “Doooo you really think he's reformed?” Fake finally said.

“I think… I think he's not ready to forgive himself,” Peppino said quietly. “He hurt us all badly, Fake. And I think he hurt-a himself, in the deal. I've-a talked to his employees, and… they say that, while he puts on a smile for-a the customers, as soon as he's alone, he's almost… mechanical.”

Fake looked thoughtful. “Perrrhaps he should seek the assistance of a professional. A therapist. Not everrryone can manage on their own.”

Peppino shrugged. “Probabilmente. I'll-a mention it to him.”

Peppino's phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the screen. Gustavo. “Speak of the devil…” He clicked the Connect button. “Pronto?”

“Peppino!?” Gustavo's voice was high-pitched, frantic.

Immediately Peppino's adrenaline shot up, and he started shaking a little. “Gustavo? Amico, what's wrong?”

“Peppino! Turn on the TV! Hurry!”

Immediately Peppino ran to the dining room of the restaurant - the TV in the dining room was always on.

“This is a National News special report… members of the infamous Susapien League have launched an assault on several locations in the city of La Crosta, taking hostages of friends and family members of their recent targets. The police, as well as local Special Operations agents, are working to resolve the issue, but tensions are high. The Leaguers have taken hostages, including several children, and weapons have been brandished as…”

Peppino's mind seemed to crash. Tony.

Mechanically, he raised the phone to his ear again.

Gustavo was almost babbling, and his voice was edged with fear. "They attacked here, the hospital, and the daycare. We fought them off here, and Giuseppe took down the ones at the hospital, but they surprised him, and he's unconscious, injured. And the daycare…!”

Peppino felt his heart stop… and then his head exploded in murderous rage. My son! My friend! My brother!! They could have hurt Sofia and Gus and Anita!!

They're threatening MY FAMILY!!!

A blood-red haze filled the edges of his vision…

A hand landed on Peppino's shoulder.

He spun around, his eyes bloodshot -

Fake stood, their expression as cold as ice. “Peppino, we know you are furious now. We are, as well. Soon, we will likely hear as much from our friends. But we must be cautious. Haste could result in these terroristi harming someone.”

Peppino's rage began to temper itself. He breathed hard for several seconds… then growled. “Damn you, you're right. We can't-a just charge into this.” He heard a crack in front of him. Looking down, he realized he'd unconsciously shattered the edge of the stone counter in front of him.

Peppino pointedly pulled his hand away from it before he broke something more expensive.

Several patrons rushed to the counter, their faces a mixture of fury and concern. The babble of voices, asking questions, offering support, expressing anger and worry and concern, both comforted and irritated the big Italian.

Peppino raised the phone back to his ear. Gustavo was still frantic. “Peppino! They have Tony!! What do we do? I heard you say we shouldn't charge in, but- !”

Despite his burning fury, mixed with the terrified shaking of his body, Peppino managed to keep his voice even. “Amico, respirare. I'm-a sure the polizia will let us know our-a options as soon as they know. We…”

The front door bell jingled…

Peppino looked up in time to see Vigi ooze quickly into the restaurant. The cheeseslime had the same expression on his face he'd had when he and Peppino had faced off in the Tower, years before - a look of cold fury.

He waved his gloved hands at the crowd as he oozed up. “Alright, alright, folks, give the man some room. Understand yer concern - we share it - but right now I bet he needs air.”

The patrons all expressed agreement, and backed off.

“Gustavo, Vigi just-a came in. I'm-a gonna put you on speaker.” He clicked the button, setting the phone down on the semi-fractured counter between them. “Go ahead, sceriffo.”

Vigi climbed up onto a stool. “Kinda surprised yer not already on yer way to La Crosta, Peppino,” he said.

Peppino snarled. “I started to, but Fake talked some-a sense into me.”

Vigi nodded. “That's good. The ones at that daycare are the only ones left. They're th’ only ones who actually took hostages.” Vigi snarled the last word out with undisguised disgust, spitting to the side.

For once, Peppino didn't chastise him for the mess.

“They didn't just attack yer people, Peppino… but you were one of th’ biggest targets,” Vigi growled. “Giuseppe took a hit t’ the head. One of ‘em had th’ brass to try and come inta the nursery! Nurse told me yer brother did some real damage. An' it was a good thing they were at th’ hospital already. Heard it got a little… bloody.”

Peppino recalled the talk they'd had on the roof, years ago, when he and his brother had discussed their respective murderous insanity when they truly snapped. “They should-a count themselves lucky.”

He heard Gustavo snarl in absolute fury over the speaker. “I swear, I’ll kill them all. Just let me at them-”

“Gustavo, as a friend, I understand, but as a Sheriff, I gotta say - stop talkin’. Yer getting on dangerous grounds w’ words like that. I already had t’ send some of my people over stop Noisette - whoop, there she goes…”

An almighty ruckus broke out outside, and everyone looked out through the broad windows just in time to see Noisette burst out the front door of her cafè. The little rabbit-woman, normally gregarious and happy, was practically shrieking at the poor officer in front of her, who was backing away with their hands held up defensively. Noisette's eyes and hair were literally on fire with rage.

Everyone's eyes were wide with fear… except for Peppino, Vigi, and Fake. Noise always said she was the most dangerous of us after Fake, myself and Seppe, Peppino thought bemusedly.

Waving a finger in the officer's face, Noisette turned, stalking towards Peppino's. Peppino saw Noise quietly walking behind her, their toddler son, Timmy, on his hip. He looked unusually serious.

Noisette slammed the door open, striding over to the counter, the crowd parting like an ocean in front of an oddly-cute prophet. She slammed her hands down on the counter. “I'm gonna kill ‘em,” she said.

Vigi growled. “Listen, y'all are friends, but y'all can't be sayin’ stuff like that! I gotta take it seriously.” He turned to Peppino, who was grim but quiet. “Honestly a little surprised at how quiet y'are, Peppino.”

Peppino's lip twisted. “Trust-a me, it's-a taking real effort.”

Noise, standing behind Noisette and looking upset, cleared his throat. “Uh, I know I ain't normally th’ voice o’ reason, but Vigi’s right. We gotta play this cool.”

Noisette rounded on her husband, who stepped back. She was as fond of Tony and Giuseppe's kids as her own. “I ain't standin’ around and letting some brain-rotted Pigs hurt those kids!” She shouted.

Timmy whimpered, and Noise bounced the child with unexpected tenderness. “Sette, yer scarin’ Timmy. And me.”

Noisette leaned back, and the flames in her eyes and hair died down. She blinked. “Oh, Timmy-poo, I'm so sorry. Mama's just a little upset, is all.” She turned back to the counter. “But what're we gonna do?”

Fake leaned down. “Weee could go into camouflage mode. Sneak in, take back the child."

Vigi shook his head. “But what about th’ other kids? An’ this bunch have guns. They could start shootin’. Naw. We gotta let experts handle this.”

Everyone other than Noise growled in frustration. Peppino shook his head. “Experts or-a no, I'm-a gonna be there. I'm-a not going to stand by and leave-a my son alone.”

Noise nodded. “Tell ya what, Peppino. I'll get one of my cars t’ take ya. All of ya.” He bounced Timmy up. “I'll stay here with the nugget.”

Peppino’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “That's… molto carino da parte tua, Noise.”

Noise looked his son in the eyes. “Y’know, I wasn't sure about havin’ a kid, but…” he grinned a bit, and Timmy giggled, “the little guy has grown on me. I know how I'd be behavin’ if it was mine.” He grinned wickedly, his teeth shifting into vicious fangs. “Half the city'd be a crater by now.”

Vigi looked from Noise to Peppino. “Y’know they won't be able t’ let you get very close. Y’know that, right, Pep?”

Peppino nodded. “Lo so. But I'm-a not going to stand around when-a mio figlio is in periglio!”

Vigi nodded. “All right, Peppino. I'll go with ya, say yer with me.” He raised a gloved finger, looking stern. “But if I say to do or not do somethin’, ya do what I say, OK? Hero or no, they'll run ya off if they think yer a problem.”

Peppino nodded.

“I'll meet you there,” Gustavo's voice piped up from the phone. “I'm not gonna leave my son alone, either.”

~~~~

The car, just big enough for all of them, stopped several blocks away. “Sorry, folks, can't get no closer,” the Pig driver called over his shoulder.

Vigi opened the door. “S’alright, son, we can walk. Thanks for the ride.”

The others - Peppino, Noisette, and Fake - called agreement and piled out.

As Peppino passed the driver's window, the Pig waved a hand. “Hey, Mr. Spaghetti, I need to tell you something.”

Peppino paused, curious.

The Pig blushed just a little. “Just want you to know… not all us Pigs agree with the Susapiens. I hope it all goes all right.”

Peppino smiled and shook his head. “I never even enter-a-tained the idea you would, young man. But grazie, nonetheless.”

The Pig smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Spaghetti. Take care.”

Peppino looked ahead as the car slowly turned away. This part of the city was tightly packed at the best of times… and now it was cramped with police and Spec Ops. Ahead, beside a distinguished-looking human, stood Gustavo and Brando.

Brando and Gustavo turned, quickly moving towards the group. Brando locked arms with Peppino, his face stricken. “Signore, I'm so sorry this has happened. I wish there was something I could do.”

Peppino did his best to stifle his shaking. “Lo apprezzo, amico. But we must be prudente.”

Gustavo looked up into Peppino's eyes, his face quivering with fear and grief. “Peppino… our son…”

This is the most emotion he's shown in ages, Peppino mused. He knelt down, and the gnome wrapped his arms around the Italian, bawling out his grief.

Peppino felt his own resolve break, and he bent his head down, choking out his own tears.

As the two fathers shared their pain, Vigi spoke to the officer beside them. “Sheriff Lantte,” he said, shaking hands.

“Captain Kowalczyk,” the man replied. He turned, seeing the others behind them. “You're… you're Peppino Spaghetti,” with a slight bit of awe.

Peppino looked up and stood, flushed a little as tears continued streaming down his face. “Sì. My-a son is in there… I couldn't just stay away.”

Kowalczyk frowned. “I understand, but it's a delicate situation,” he said, his words terse and clipped. “These Susapiens have lost their minds. Their sponsors have already publicly renounced them - the ones that survived themselves.”

Noisette's ears perked up. “What do you mean?”

The captain grimaced. “These fanatics staged a coup. They murdered most of their financial backers, stole their fortunes, and did - this. There never were a huge number of them, but…”

Everyone's eyes went wide. “Mi… mio dio,” Brando whispered.

Captain Kowalczyk nodded. “Yep. In fact, only one survived.” He pointed at a well-dressed Pig - one Peppino found to be familiar.

Peppino growled deeply and marched towards the Pig, the others following, swept up in his wake.

The Pig, shivering and cowering, turned, saw the Italian, and squealed in abject terror. “Please! Don't hurt me! I'm sorry! We didn't know - how could we -” he stopped, unable to speak anymore. “We didn't want this,” he choked out. “We just wanted… justice!”

Peppino went blood-red with rage, but managed to hold his temper in check… mostly. “Justice? Justice?” He grabbed the Pig by the lapels, picking him up.

Kowalczyk raised a hand, but Vigi stopped him. “Let it play out, Captain.”

Peppino held the terrified Pig up to his face. “What kind of-a fucking justice is there in-a what you’ve-a done?? Shutting down small-a businesses? For serving pork?? How-a many poor lost their livelihoods - their dreams - for your god-damned so-a-called JUSTICE??” Peppino was practically shooting steam out of his nose. “How many-a lives have you ruined? For what?? You arrogante, odioso, MALVAGIO-”

Peppino paused - the Pig was almost delirious with fear.

Peppino took a deep breath, and set the Pig down… but didn't let go. “Listen to me, you fucking sciocco arrogante. People have been hurt. People have-a died, because of you. Now a group of people - children, one of whom is-a my infant son - are being threatened with pain and-a death. Because of-a you, and-a your so-called fucking justice.” He pulled the Pig back into the air. “I swear… if-a anything happens to-a my son… or any of these-a people, for-a that matter… I will make it my life's-a work to make sure you spend the rest of-a your days in the deepest prison in the world, paying the price for your-a justice.”

The last word was spat with the vilest venom Peppino could muster.

The Pig whimpered. “I… I…”

Peppino set the Pig down, his rage having transmuted into nauseated disgust, and turned back to his friends. “Mi dispiace, Capitano. Had a bit of atemper-a tantrum. So. Tell me what's going on.”

Kowalczyk cleared his throat, pointedly ignoring what had been perilously close to a death threat against the Pig. “Well… right now we have negotiators speaking to the terrorists.” They turned, and Peppino noticed several Spec Ops agents speaking into radios, and even one with a megaphone. “So far, all we've gotten is demands for ‘justice.’ Whatever they mean by that,” Kowalczyk said.

The Pig spoke up. “We… the Susapiens made it our mission to have all pork products eliminated from public use,” he said quietly. “In truth, we knew it couldn't be completely eliminated, but… some of our number apparently took it far more seriously.” He put his cloven hoof-digits to his face. “At our most recent meeting - this morning - we were actually discussing… giving in. But some of them… some of them…” the Pig's eyes began to water. “They turned on us. I happened to be… out of the room. They… they murdered the others. Seized what funds they had on them. Then… they did this. There was a helicopter on the roof - that's how I eacaped.” The Pig looked up at the tall Captain. “I swear to you… we never intended this.”

Everyone stood in stunned silence. Finally, Vigi spoke. “Intended or no, it's your teachins’ that have these folks in a tizzy. Ya got blood on yer hands, sir.” He turned towards the daycare. “If anythin’ happens to these people… I'll be helpin’ Peppino put you away.”

Everyone other than Kowalczyk added their affirmations to Vigi's words.

Kowalczyk cleared his throat again. “Anyway. They're getting nowhere so far. The worker in the daycare are refusing to leave. Say they want to protect the kids.”

Gustavo smiled weakly, looking up at Peppino. “Told you it was well-vetted.”

“We can't risk an assault. They have too many hostages,” Kowalczyk said.

“Have they made any demands?” Noisette said, strangely serious.

Kowalczyk shook his head. “None, actually. They seem to be… locked-up. They don't want to give in, but they don't seem to know what they want.” He sighed. “It's a true standoff.”

Fake growled - the sound reverberated like a giant frog’s croaking. “Is there nothing we can do?”

Suddenly Brando’s eyes lit up. “Un attimo… I think I saw one of their weapons earlier. It didn't look like a standard gun.”

Kowalczyk nodded. “They're energy weapons, based off Old Tech.”

Brando’s smile turned almost malicious. “Could Paolo do something about that? Almost all Old Tech these days is descended from the stuff from the Tower, no?”

Everyone looked perplexed. Finally Kowalczyk spoke. “I suppose it's worth a try. Can one of you contact him?”

“Way ahead of ya, big guy,” Noisette said; she already had her phone out.

Gustavo looked unconvinced. “But… Paolo's in Boiler City. Maybe he could remotely access them eventually, but… what could he do right now?”

Noisette grinned mischievously. “Watch and learn, Gussy-wussy,” she said. “Noisette got me the latest phone tech! I can do so much with this thing,” she said in a happy sing-song voice.

Everyone stared at the rabbit-woman, looking a little stunned. “I guess it pays to have connections,” Kowalczyk said weakly.

Vigi shook his head. “T’ be fair, even we didn' expect that,” he said with a hint of amusement. “Noisette, that's all well ‘n good, but that still leaves us with a bunch o’ hostages.”

“Aaaand there's no guarantee they do not have other weapons. Knives, for one,” Fake rumbled.

“But maybe if they realize their weapons are disabled, they'll give up?” Brando volunteered.

Everyone shook their heads. “Going by what… what he said,” Gustavo said, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the quivering Pig, “these guys are zealots. Fanatics. I bet… I bet they know the cops know about the murders.” His eyes walked up. “All those kids… they…” he sucked in a shaky breath.

Brando placed a hand on the gnome's shoulder, and Gustavo turned, weeping into the man's shirt.

Peppino felt his own heart breaking at the sight. If anyone doubted his real feelings, this ought to set them straight.

Then he noticed something else: the gnome was twisting something in between his hands. Looks like a shank of… gray fur?

His eyes widened. Gray. Rat fur? Brick?

Peppino walked over, kneeling down. “Gustavo,” he said quietly, “has-a something happened to Brick?”

Everyone froze, turning towards the little man.

Gustavo shivered, twisting the hank of hair. “She… she disappeared a while ago. I don't know why. Not long before… before everything happened. She was just… just gone.” He choked, barely able to speak. “I was… I was alone. So alone. Here, alone, everyone gone, expecting me to come to them…” his face was streaming with tears. “I couldn't… I couldn't stand it! Not… not again! So I… I started… and then… then you found out, and everyone was so angry, and-and I hated myself for treating everyone so bad, and… and…”

Peppino felt his throat close up. “Oh, mio caro amico…” He wrapped the gnome up in a bear hug… and found himself surrounded by the entire group. “Mi dispiace tanto, amico. If I'd only known…”

Gustavo sniffed. “That's doesn't excuse what I did, Peppino,” he whispered. “To you. To Tony. To Anita and Giuseppe and everyone. I… I deserve to be alone.”

Everyone broke away. “Everybody deserves a second chance, Gussy,” Noisette said, her eyes misty. “Everybody.”

Fake nodded. “Nearrrrly everyone here is here noww because of second chances,” he croaked.

Gustavo looked around, his eyes wobbling. After several moments, he looked down. “Grazie mille, i miei amici. I'll… I'll try to be worthy.”

Kowalczyk cleared his throat. “I hate to interrupt this heartfelt moment, but… we still have a group of fanatical murderers holding a bunch of toddlers hostage.”

Noisette's phone started ringing,and everyone broke away so she could answer… but Peppino out his hands on Gustavo's shoulders. “Lo giuro, amico, when this is-a over, we'll all help you find-a Brick.”

Gustavo nodded.

Noisette was chatting amiably to whoever was on the phone, then paused. “Actually, hang on, the guys here should hear this, too. I'm gonna put you on speaker.” She clicked, holding the phone up. “Go ahead, Paolo.”

“All right,” the voice of the Ninda rang out. Noisette wasn't kidding, it doesn't even sound like a phone call! “I saw what's going on - it's all over the news. I think I can help, at least a little. Captain… sorry, didn't get your name?”

The captain cleared his throat. “Captain Kowalczyk, sir, of the La Crosta PD. I assume you're Mr. Totino?”

“More’s the pity, sometimes,” Paolo said ascerbically. “Noisette's right; if I can find out what kind of weapons they have, I can give her a code to disable them. You don't happen to have a picture of one, do you?”

“No need,” a quavery voice said behind them. Kowalczyk turned; the Pig had stepped forward, shaking but looking determined. “They're PT-307 Fireflys. I recognized them from one of my cohort’s private stores.”

Kowalczyk shuddered. “Small but powerful. Glad we didn't try to rush in.”

“On the other hand, I'm familiar with those,” Paolo said smugly.

Kowalczyk looked unconvinced. “And you can… shut those down, Mr. Totino?”

“Most of that sort of tech is descended from the Tech we took out of the Pizza Tower, Captain,” Paolo said. “As such, some of the code of the Tower is there… and I know override codes.” Noisette's phone beeped. “I just sent you the current codes you can use, Noisette. You should be able to send a Lock command from your phone. Be careful, it'll only work for twenty minutes.”

Noisette saluted. “On it, Paolo! Thanks!”

As the woman typed furiously, Kowalczyk leaned over. “Not that I'm not grateful, Mr. Totino, but… doesn't this mean you could essentially shut down any advanced tech, anywhere in the world, at any time?”

“Anything descended from my tech, yes,” Paolo said. “But I don't give that information out to just anyone. And I know better than to exploit that sort of thing.” Pause. “I’m not my ancestor, Captain. I'll take these secrets to my grave. I'm only doing it now to help those kids.”

Kowalczyk nodded. “It's appreciated, then, Mr. Totino. Thank you.”

Peppino could almost hear the wide grin. “Happy to help, sir. Everyone? Take care.”

The line clicked as he signed off.

Shortly Peppino's phone buzzed.

A message from Paolo. Your son is in there, isn't he?

Peppino shuddered, and replied. Yes.

The phone buzzed again. Didn't want to call you out. I'm sorry. It'll be Ok. With all of you there, I know it.

Peppino smiled. Thank you, amico.

He stared into the distance. Hard to believe we used to be mortal enemies.

Noisette dramatically pressed a button on her screen, and a grating brrrrp sounded. “Aaaand done! Those guns are no better than toys now!”

The group turned towards the daycare. “Now we just have to figure out how to get a group of murderous fanatics to give back their hostages,” Kowalczyk muttered.

~~~~

An hour later, the group stood just outside the police line. Peppino was trying to maintain his composure, but the wait had been excruciating.

Giuseppe had messaged him about the minutes in. I'm OK. Anita and the kids are OK. But I heard about the daycare and the restaurant. Is Gus OK?

A few scrapes, he said, but they're OK, Peppino sent back. But there's a standoff at the daycare. They're at a standstill.

Do you want me to come down there? He sent back.

Peppino felt his heart lfit at that. To offer to be away from his wife and children… he thought. No, fratello, he sent back, there are plenty of us here. And someone might try again. Stay with your family. I'll feel more at ease knowing you're safe.

Well, Spec Ops has this place locked down tight, Giuseppe replied, but all right. I had to talk them down, to be honest. Guess these guys take attacking a retired general's family seriously.

Peppino smirked. As they should. Be careful, fratello.

Same, fratellino.

Kowalczyk walked over; he'd been speaking to Fake. “Your friend's camouflage abilities are coming in handy, Mr. Spaghetti. They've been scouting.”

“And what did they find?” Gustavo said.

“Something… strange is happening,” Kowalczyk said. “The people are… disappearing.”

Everyone paused. “Disappearin’?” Vigi said, confused. “How?”

“Weee’re not sure,” Fake said. “Any person not in the hands of a terrrrrorist disppearrrrs. The terrorists, as well.” They smiled grimly. “Onnnnly Tony and one other are left.”

Kowalczyk nodded. “Whatever's going on, they're probably getting desperate. No weapons and almost no hostages… we have to be very careful.”

“ATTENTION!” A voice called from inside the daycare. “OUR DEMANDS HAVE CHANGED!”

“I’ll bet,” Kowalczyk muttered. He turned to the Spec Ops officer near him, a tall Ninda. “You're the negotiator, Major Ingerah,” he said.

The brown-skinned man raised a megaphone. “We hear you! What are your demands?”

“WE KNOW SOME OF THE PARENTS OF THESE CHILDREN ARE HERE,” the voice called. “ONE IN PARTICULAR. WE DEMAND TO SPEAK TO MR. PEPPINO SPAGHETTI!”

Everyone turned to Peppino, who had gone white. “M-me?” Peppino stammered. “Why-a me?”

Ingerah and Kowalczyk looked at each other and frowned. “They probably feel like they can get something from you,” Ingerah said.

Peppino felt a panic attack already starting. Gustavo reached out and took one arm, Noisette the other.

Their touch calmed his nerves… slightly. “What… what should I-a do?”

Ingerah held out the megaphone. “Ask,” he said.

Hesitantly, Peppino stepped forward. The crowd had gone quiet; everyone knew the situation was delicate. He held up the megaphone… “I am Peppino Spaghetti! What do you need?”

“WE KNOW WE STILL HAVE YOUR SON,” the voice replied. “WE DEMAND ASYLUM!”

Peppino turned; Ingerah shook their head. “They can't ask asylum, they're all citizens! Tell them that.”

Peppino relayed the message, and there was a pause. “WE REFUSE TO BOW TO CANNIBALS!”

Peppino turned again, and Ingerah shrugged. “We've been hitting this snag all day. They're fanatics.” He pursed his lips, then nodded. See if you can get him out in plain view. Maybe we can take him out.”

“He's sure to have the kid, though,” Kowalczyk countered heatedly. “We're not risking the child!”

Ingerah nodded. “Agreed. But we need to see if the kid is still OK. Mr. Spaghetti? Over to you.”

Peppino was shaking badly, but nodded. “I-a need to see if-a my son is hurt! Step out-a-side so we can see you!”

The voice replied with derision. “OF COURSE! SO SOME SNIPER CAN GUN ME DOWN?”

“I-a promise, that won’t-a happen,” Peppino called back. “Please. I just-a want to know my son is OK.”

There was a long pause, and finally, a response. “ALL RIGHT, I'M STEPPING OUT! ALL OF YOU, LOWER YOUR WEAPONS!”

Kowalczyk and Ingerah both signaled to their people, and everyone lowered their weapons. “All-a right, you're safe, whoever you are!”

Shortly, a surprisingly-thin Pig stepped out, with Tony in his arms… and a gun to the boy's temple.

Brando had to restrain Gustavo. “TONY!” The gnome cried out. Noisette put her hands to her face. Fake growled loudly, and Vigi put a hand on Peppino's leg. “Easy, amigo.”

The Pig looked disheveled, wild-eyed. “I don't know how you got the other hostages, or what you did to my friends, but… I refuse to go down alone!” He hoisted the child up, brandishing the gun. “I'll… I'll have justice!”

Peppino put the megaphone down. “Giustizia?” he said. “What-a giustizia is-a there in threatening to murder a small child, Signore?”

In the throes of instinct, Peppino stepped around the blocking tape. Ingerah reached for him, but Kowalczyk grabbed his shoulder. “Wait,” he whispered.

The Pig terrorist was wild-eyed. “I-I know what you can do! You can kill me at super-speed! I'll-I-I’ll kill the boy first!”

Peppino held out his hands to the side. “I won't-a do that,” he said calmly. The shaking had stopped. Saving my son is most important. “Please. Just… give me my son. We can-a talk. I won't-a let them hurt you.”

Suddenly, from the side, a huge gray blur shot past…

And Tony was gone.

Behind him, Peppino heard everyone cry out. He turned…

Gustavo was holding Tony, and both of them were bawling. Beside them stood -

Brick?? Peppino thought incredulously.

Then he remembered the Pig in front of him. He turned…

Unsurprisingly, the Pig now had his gun trained on Peppino's chest.

“How did you do that??” The Pig squalled. “You planned that, didn't you??”

Peppino shook his head. “Sinceramente, I'm as-a surprised as you are,” he muttered. “But we can still talk, amico. Please. Put-a the gun down.”

Peppino held out a hand.

The Pig, tears in his eyes, lifted the gun.

He pulled the trigger…

And nothing happened.

The Pig's eyes went wide, and he slumped to the ground. “How - how did…”

Peppino knelt, smiling sadly. “Friends in high places, amico. Now-a please. Give-a yourself up quietly. It'll go better for you.”

The Pig looked up, defeated, and nodded.

As the police and military took him into custody, Peppino walked back to the crowd. Everyone was cheering.

Peppino had only eyes for his son.

As he walked up, Tony held out his arms. “Papa,” he said. “Papa!”

Peppino wrapped the boy up in his arms, pulling him close, and started bawling. “Mi dispiace,” he blubbered. “Mi dispiace tanto, mio figlio.”

Peppino heard new voices around him, and looked up…

Giant Rats were appearing from everywhere, carrying children, escorting adults.

Peppino turned to Brick. “Did… did-a you save them all?”

Brick nodded, squeaking proudly. Then she knelt to nuzzle Gustavo.

The gnome reached up, rubbing her muzzle. “Oh, amica, I've missed you so! Tell me-”

Suddenly both gnome and rat froze, and Brick stood up, looking surprised.

“Brick?” Gustavo whispered.

Brick nosed the gnome over, looking confused.

Brando walked over. “What's wrong, Signore?”

“I… I can't hear her,” Gustavo whispered. “I can't hear her!” He looked up, grabbing fistfuls of Brick's fur. “Can you hear me?” he said, his eyes full of tears, his voice desperate.

Brick sadly shook her head.

Everyone stared as Gustavo buried his face in the Rat's fur, sobbing.