The shouts were followed by loud crashes, and were coming from the other side of an arched doorway. Donnie crept through it and hid behind a ridge of ice. He gawked at the sight in front of him. He was in a huge ice hall, filled with hundreds of large gray seals covered in black spots. Some were marching up and down. Some were leaping through hoops, others were perfecting their pole vaulting. In one corner, a group were practicing a form of martial arts. It was basic in style, mostly involving slapping each other with their flippers, but it looked pretty effective. In another corner, a line of seals was balancing balls of solid ice on their noses. On the command “Fire!”, they flung the balls at a line of crudely made snowmen, knocking their heads clean off. Another seal was rebuilding the heads, hastily patting the snow down with its flippers, while trying to avoid getting hit by the flying ice balls.
Donnie pulled out his phone and called Chuck.
“I’ve found those seals the penguins mentioned,” Donnie whispered.
“What are they like?” asked Chuck.
Another ice ball flew across the hall, pulverizing a snowman’s head.
“I wouldn’t want to meet them in a dark alley … or in a tunnel of an ice mountain, for that matter,” said Donnie. “It seems to be some kind of army training camp.”
“Can you keep watch while we rescue Grandmaster One-Eye? There’s a good chance the Ringmaster could be—”
The phone went dead.
“Chuck?” said Donnie. He tried again and went straight through to Chuck’s voicemail.
“This is Chuck’s phone,” said Chuck’s voice. “Like an escapologist in the middle of a trick, I am tied up and unable to get to the phone right now. Please leave a message after the tone.”
“Right, you ’orrible lot, jump to attention!” a voice cried from inside the hall.
Donnie peeked over the ridge and saw two seals waddling through the hall. One wore a red beret and bellowed at the others to get a move on, while the second was older and had long whiskers.
The rest of the seals quickly stopped what they were doing and formed a line. Some of them snarled at each other angrily as they got in one another’s way.
“Settle down, settle down!” cried the large seal with the beret. “Colonel Ron wishes to speak.”
There was a hush in the hall.
“Friends, leopard seals, Antarcticans,” said the older one. “Who is your leader?”
“Colonel Ron, Colonel Ron!” chanted the army of seals.
The old seal smiled. “We leopard seals are naturally the strongest, the toughest, and the deadliest seals in the whole world.”
The army erupted into applause.
“And only one band of rebel penguins stands in the way of us controlling this whole area—the Tuxedo Ten.”
The seals honked angrily.
“As you know, we have sealed a deal to ensure we crush these penguins for good. And to fulfill our part of the deal, I need a very special task force.” He turned to the big seal next to him and said, “Sergeant, I need your twenty best soldiers.”
The sergeant shuffled along the lines. The seals jostled for position, eager to be picked.
“You lot come with me,” said Colonel Ron, once the twenty were assembled. “Everyone else, evacuate Ice Mountain.”
Such was the rush for the exit that Donnie had to burrow into the ice to hide and only narrowly avoided being crushed by stampeding seals.
While Donnie hid from the seals, Chuck, Bruce, and Jet were facing a far bigger problem. Chuck’s phone had been swiped from his paw by a huge white bear, who’d appeared out of nowhere. It smashed the phone against the wall, cutting the line dead. Before Chuck could say, “A polar bear in the Antarctic?” the bear wrapped a large paw around the meerkat’s waist, pinning his arms to his sides, and squeezed as hard as he could. Chuck struggled to reach his sword, but the bear’s grip was too tight.
“Ninja-boom!” cried Jet, drawing his nunchucks. He somersaulted through the air, hurling himself at their attacker, but the bear landed a powerful punch on Jet’s chest with his free paw, sending him flying backwards.
“Bruce Force!” cried Bruce. He leaped forward too, but was brought down by a flurry of snowballs from behind.
Jet pulled Bruce to his feet.
“Hey, Barnie, that was a bit of a frosty reception you gave them,” said a voice.
“Nah, looks like Barnie’s got a crush on Cobracrusher,” said another.
“The … clowns…” said Chuck, gasping for breath.
Jet and Bruce spun around to see their old enemies Grimsby and Sheffield carrying handheld cannons. A barrage of snowballs flew at them, knocking the two meerkats off their feet and sending them into an icy wall.
“Mind you, Grimsby, looks like they’re bowled over to see us.”
The clowns laughed and fired two more rounds of snowballs. But this time, Jet and Bruce were ready for them. They leaped into the air, shattering the snow missiles with lightning-quick moves, spraying snow everywhere.
“Is that all you clowns have got, some oversized snowballs?” cried Jet. “This is going to be easy!”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” said Grimsby, wearing a cruel smile beneath his sad painted face. “Don’t forget Barnie, the bear-knuckle fighter. He already seems to have taken a shine to your leader!”
“Polar … bears … don’t live in … the Antarctic,” said Chuck, struggling to breathe as Barnie held him tight.
The clowns laughed and fired more snowballs. “He doesn’t live here. He’s on holiday. And we’ve come to help get rid of a penguin problem,” said Sheffield.
“The penguins … have every right … to live here,” gasped Chuck.
“You should spend less time worrying about those flightless birds and more time worrying about the fact that you’re soon to be extinct,” said Grimsby.
“And that’s snow joke,” added Sheffield.
“Nice one, lad,” said Grimsby.
“Finding it … hard to … breathe,” gasped Chuck. “Jet … Bruce … I could do … with some … help … here. Use my … sword.”
“Bruce—distract the polar bear,” whispered Jet.
Bruce nodded and turned to face the bear. “Right, Barnie, if that’s your name, let’s see what you can do.”
The bear growled and stepped forward. Jet launched himself at Barnie, silently clambered up his side, scurried down his arm, and pulled Chuck’s sword from its sheath. But the clowns were watching every move and opened fire with another volley of snowballs, knocking Jet flying and throwing Bruce to the ground. As Jet landed, he caught Barnie’s foot with the edge of Chuck’s sword.
The bear roared in pain and threw Chuck at a wall. Chuck slid to the ground in a crumpled heap.
“Are you OK?” asked Jet.
Chuck sat up. “I feel like an orange at breakfast time…” he said. “Squeezed and drained.”
The clowns laughed.
“I don’t see what’s so funny,” Bruce snarled.
“You need to chill out,” said Sheffield. “Hey, Grimsby, I think snow’s forecast again.”
“How lovely. What time?”
“About now.”
Both clowns aimed their guns at the ceiling and fired. There was a loud crack, followed by boulders of ice falling on top of them. Jet and Bruce grabbed Chuck and dived to safety.
When the air cleared a moment later, the meerkats found themselves on the other side of the avalanche from Sheffield, Grimsby, and Barnie.
“Come back, you cowards!” cried Bruce, leaping to his feet.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” said Chuck. “There must be a reason why they want us on this side of the avalanche. Quick, we must find Grandmaster One-Eye and get out of here right away.”
“Perhaps Donnie’s found him,” said Jet, handing Chuck his sword.
“We were cut off when the bear attacked and destroyed my phone,” said Chuck. “Bruce, call him on yours.”
Bruce pulled out his phone, set i
t to loudspeaker and dialed the number.
“Bruce! What happened to you guys?” whispered Donnie.
“We had a run-in with our favorite clowns and their pet polar bear,” said Bruce. “But it was nothing we couldn’t handle.”
“Donnie, what have you found out?” Chuck interrupted.
“Most of the seals were told to evacuate. But a team of twenty were picked for a special squad—I’m following them at the moment. They’re up to something, but I’m not quite sure what—”
There was a crackling sound on the line, then a cold voice, dripping with evil, spoke. “Would you like me to tell you what it is?”
“The Ringmaster!” exclaimed Jet.
“Indeed, Flashfeet. I hope you don’t mind me tapping into your phone call. Sorry if the line isn’t very good. I’m quite a long way away.”
There was an eager barking on the Ringmaster’s end of the phone.
“Doris says hello,” said the Ringmaster.
“What do you want? Why have you kidnapped Grandmaster One-Eye?” demanded Chuck.
“Oh, dear. Haven’t you worked that out yet? To entice you into my trap, of course.”
“What trap?” demanded Chuck.
“Oh, it’s painfully simple. Painful for you, that is. As we speak, Colonel Ron’s seal army is planting a series of snow explosives in these tunnels. When they go off, they will bring the whole mountain down. Not even you, my small burrowing friends, will be able to survive an entire mountain collapsing on top of you. And I will be free of your meddlesome ways once and for all.”
“Why are you telling us this?” said Donnie.
“Because you still have to find your flaky master. You won’t leave him to die, will you? Of course you won’t. Your over-confidence and loyalty are your weaknesses and will be the end of you.”
“Donnie, you have to stop the seals planting the explosives,” said Chuck.
Another laugh crackled down the line.
“I’m afraid that even Donnie and his famous bag of gadgets will be helpless against Colonel Ron’s seal army. If you had the element of surprise then perhaps you would stand a fighting chance, but I’ve just traced your position using the signal from your phone and have let Colonel Ron know exactly where you are. Good-bye, Clan of the Scorpion. It’s been ice knowing you.”
The phone line went dead.
As the phone call ended, Donnie heard movement behind him. He turned to find five seals had crept up on him. He spun around once more to find five more seals ahead of him in the tunnel. All of them were spinning ice balls on their noses.
“So you’re just a bunch of the Ringmaster’s cronies,” said Donnie. “He’ll have you working in his big top before long.”
“We’re no one’s cronies,” barked Colonel Ron, squeezing through the line. “He is helping us and we are helping him. The rest of my team is starting the timers on the snow explosives as we speak. But before we get out of here, we do have time to practice our aim. Ready, boys, and … fire!”
The seals flipped their ice balls into the air, then headed them at Donnie.
Donnie ducked to avoid one, skidded across the ice, and rolled out of the way of another. He flipped up onto his feet and dodged two more that flew past his head and smashed against the wall of the tunnel. He hastily pressed a button on the side of his backpack and an umbrella shot up, sheltering him from the ice that rained down from the smashed ice ball.
The seals stared in confusion.
“Well don’t just stand there! Reload!” yelled Colonel Ron.
Donnie pulled two smoke grenades from the harness across his chest and launched them in opposite directions. Green smoke poured from the exploded grenades, filling the chamber.
“Where’s he gone?” cried a seal.
“I can’t see him!”
“Keep firing!” shouted Colonel Ron.
More ice balls flew in all directions.
“Ow!” cried one of the seals.
“Watch where you’re firing,” shouted another.
Donnie didn’t waste a second of the chaos that followed. He slipped on a pair of specially-designed goggles that enabled him to see through the dense green smoke and hurried out of the tunnel.
* * *
Meanwhile, the rest of the Clan were making sense of their conversation with the Ringmaster.
“So that’s why the clowns ran away,” said Jet. “The snow explosives could go off at any minute!”
“I must take a moment to contemplate the nature of this problem,” said Chuck.
He sat down cross-legged, closed his eyes, and hummed quietly.
“We haven’t got time for this,” said Jet. “We have to find Grandmaster One-Eye and get out of here, not sit around with our eyes closed!”
“We have spoken about your impetuous nature before, Jet,” replied Chuck, opening one of his eyes. “There are many tunnels in this mountain. We could too easily take the wrong turn and waste valuable time. Very soon, these caves will begin to collapse. Now, please allow me to concentrate.”
Chuck closed his eyes once more.
CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH.
Then opened them again.
“Bruce, please. Can’t you avoid eating at a time of such urgency?”
“Sorry,” said Bruce. “Only, I just found this deep-fried lizard’s tail on the ground. Lovely.”
“Deep-fried lizard’s tail!” exclaimed Jet. “Bruce, you’ve cracked it! That’s what Grandmaster One-Eye said he would take from the banquet. He’s left us a clue!”
Chuck smiled. “I sought the answer in my mind, but Bruce found it with his stomach. Quickly, Bruce, sniff out the rest.”
“With pleasure.”
They followed the trail of lizards’ tails along the winding tunnel. Bruce ran on ahead, greedily gulping down each one. Chuck and Jet followed as quickly as they could. Suddenly, Bruce’s head appeared around a corner. “Hurry, I’ve found him!”
Chuck and Jet sped up and rounded the corner to find Grandmaster One-Eye lying inside a cage with his eyes closed.
“Grandmaster!” exclaimed Jet. “Are you all right? What have they done to you?”
The Grandmaster opened his eyes, yawned and stretched. “Oh, hello, Jet,” he said, getting to his feet. “I’m fine, thanks— I must have drifted off. Is it time to go?”
“It is indeed. Bruce, get him out,” ordered Chuck.
Bruce launched his full weight at the door of the cage, but his efforts were in vain. The meerkats had come across the Ringmaster’s special reinforced titanium cages before. They were impossible to break, and this time, where there should have been a lock, the door had been welded shut.
“I could try my Single-Claw Hole Punch,” said Jet.
“No,” said Chuck. “Such a punch can only be used on solid surfaces. If you used it on these bars, the force of it could kill Grandmaster One-Eye. We need Donnie.”
Jet pulled his phone out, but before he had even pressed a button it started to ring. “We were just about to call you,” he said, switching on the speakerphone. “We’ve found Grandmaster One-Eye.”
“Good, because we only have three and a half minutes to get out of here,” said Donnie.
“What?” Bruce replied.
“I’ve just found one of the snow explosives, and the timer’s been activated.”
“Can’t you disarm it?” asked Chuck.
“Even if I could, there are nine more of these things. We need to get out now.”
“But Grandmaster One-Eye is stuck in a titanium cage,” said Jet. “It’s ninja-proof. We could carry the whole cage out, but not in three and a half minutes.”
“Donnie, do you have something we could use to break it open?” asked Chuck.
“Yes, but there’s no time,” replied Donnie. “I’ve checked the coordinates of Grandmaster One-Eye’s signal, and it’ll take two minutes just for me to get to you.”
“So we’re supposed to leave him here to get blown up?” exclaimed Bruce.
“Blown up,” said Donnie thoughtfully. “That’s it! Stay where you are.”
After what seemed like the longest two minutes in history, Donnie arrived carrying a mound of snow with a small electronic display in the middle. The timer was down to just over a minute.
“You’ve brought an explosive?” exclaimed Jet.
“No time to explain,” panted Donnie. “Jet, I need you to use the Single-Claw Hole Punch.”
“Where?”
Donnie pointed at the ground. “Down,” he said. “We need to put this thing about twenty yards directly below us.”
Jet closed his eyes, extended one claw, and hummed, then suddenly punched the ground. The force of the blow tore a hole straight through the ice, creating a deep well.
“Your technique has improved considerably,” said Chuck.
“Thanks to Professor Longtooth—he told me that when harnessing one’s powers for the Single-Claw Hole Punch, a quiet noise will produce a more powerful punch.”
“Good work,” said Donnie. He dropped the bomb into the hole and turned to the cage. “Now, Grandmaster One-Eye, stand back and shield your eyes.”
He pulled two small pieces of plasticine from his backpack and placed them very carefully at either end of one of the bars.
“What are you doing?” asked Grandmaster One-Eye.
“These cages are strong, but their weakest spots are where the bars have been soldered to the frame.” He attached a wire that ran from a small black box and took a few steps back. “These plastic explosives should be enough to disconnect one bar. Cover your ears, everyone. You too, Grandmaster.”
He pressed a button on the box. There were two bangs in quick succession and the metal bar clanged to the ground.
“Well done,” said Grandmaster One-Eye, clapping his paws. “May I come out now?”
“No, we’re coming in,” said Donnie.
“What? We’re getting in there?” exclaimed Jet.
“Yes. Bruce, you push the cage over the hole first,” ordered Donnie. “Hurry!”
Bruce did so, then the Clan of the Scorpion joined Grandmaster One-Eye inside.
Escape from Ice Mountain Page 3
