Writing proposals for military projects like this was Alan's bread and butter. In six years he'd never had a proposal refused, but even Alan would have a hard time talking the government into throwing more taxpayers' money at their lab if Beatrix was right and Drew messed up another one.

But what made her so sure that Drew had lost it completely this time? Drew's ramblings about anatine genetic mutation and his insistence that the experiment be abandoned were surely just another case of the stress getting to him. He always got a little stir-crazy toward the end when they started pulling twenty-hour shifts--catching what few winks of sleep they could without leaving the facility--to meet a project deadline. He would usually pull himself together when it came time to "hang the monkey upside-down". (Alan always had a quiet chuckle to himself when he thought of how their first project had spawned the cute idiom that they now used to refer to the final stage of all their experiments.)

Sure, Drew had thrown a few spanners in the works and caused a few deadlines to slip but he didn't usually threaten to destroy the experiments, so Alan had felt somewhat justified in sending him away for an all-expenses-paid trip to Hawaii until this one was over. Of course Drew grew even more crazy at being cut out of the loop right at the climax, but when Alan had pointed out, on the way to the airport, that if Drew's claims had any basis in fact (which of course they didn’t) he would probably be much better off outside the continental USA Drew had seemed to calm down a little, but still seemed reluctant to leave. When Alan then threatened to pull him off the team if he didn’t take the trip he dropped into a quiet funk and went without any further argument. Right now he was probably relaxing on a beach three thousand miles away, and hopefully coming to the realization that western civilization was not really about to end tonight, after all.

###

Alan and Beatrix met at the door of the isolation chamber and looked at each other wordlessly for a few moments. Alan tried a thin smile but Beatrix just shook her head slowly as she swiped her ID card.

“He’s in Hawaii, Bea. He can’t do anything from there.” Alan said.

“Did you see him get on the plane?” she asked quietly.

“I saw him check his baggage, and he’d calmed down by then.”

Their footsteps rang in hollow unison as they ascended the metal stairway to the glass control booth. As Beatrix flipped on the main light switch Alan let out a loud gasp. The bright glow revealed Drew inside the isolation chamber, a length of lead pipe in one hand and an enamel bucket in the other, sloshing bright orange liquid onto the floor as he staggered towards the towering rack of cages.

...

Brain Johnson loved money. He loved the way it smelled and the way it felt, but mostly he loved what he could do with it. With money he could surround himself with expensive silks and the most beautiful women, he could even buy the loyalty of men who considered themselves honest. Yes, Brian Johnson loved money, and right now he wanted more.

Brian Johnson was the world’s premier supplier of water fowl, and he had a plan to increase his revenue by millions of dollars, if he could solve one tiny problem, the Easter Bunny. Subconsciously Brian growled to himself. Twenty five percent of egg revenue was made around Easter time, but could he tap into that vast market? Of course not, every one wanted chicken eggs and baby chicks. Even those repulsive marshmallow peeps were in the form of chicks and not ducklings.

Brian was a reasonable man; he had tried compromise and logic. Duck eggs were more nutritious than chicken eggs and people were less likely to be allergic to them, but did that stubborn cottontail rabbit see the benefit? Of course not, he kept stuffing those baskets full of colored chicken eggs, ignoring the logic, ignoring the truth and even ignoring the bribes placed inside those hollow plastic eggs.

“Calm Brian, be calm,” he murmured to himself as he again pictured his ducks all neatly lined up, laying eggs that were mechanically colored and evenly distributed amongst the millions of baskets being delivered across the world.

“Ms. Potter, please come in here,” Mr. Johnson said as his finger tapped the intercom button.

“You called sir?” said a prim woman of middle age as she opened Brian’s office door.

“Yes, call Drew and tell him that I have decided to go ahead with operation Rodent Control,” he said to his secretary.

“Sir, as a friend and your administrative assistant, I must urge you not to use Drew. While his resume may be impressive, he is a complete fool and he does have that small problem with narcolepsy.”

“Nonsense, Ms. Potter!” Brian spoke quickly, “He is the descendant of one of the world’s leading rabbit hunters. Why his uncle Mr. Fudd, upon his death, bequeathed to him his knowledge AND quite an impressive arsenal of weaponry, I might add.”

“Be that as it may sir,” Ms. Potter said as she adjusted her proper work skirt, “Mr. Fudd was never actually seen to kill a rabbit, despite his glorious claims.”

“Damn it, Ms. Potter, I need your co-operation, I am trying to run a business!” Brain roared, “Now, do I have your loyalty, or should you begin looking for another job?”

“Of course you have my loyalty sir, what would I ever do without you?” Ms. Potter asked, “Write stories about cute little rabbits?”

Feeling somewhat guilty for having snapped at his loyal secretary, Mr. Johnson said simply, “Thank you Beatrix.”

Excerpt from Chapter 3
‘Stick to the Plan.’

After their third game of naked twister ended in a tangle of sweaty limbs, Drew surrendered to the unbeatable Beatrix. Now it was time to get down to some serious business. They retired to the leather sofa and stuck there for hours. At the crack of dawn, still glued to the same spot they landed, their foolproof plan was laid.

Excerpt from Chapter 5
‘Casing the Joint.’

Walt Disney’s preliminary sketches of Donald Duck were displayed in the center of the museum’s main gallery under heavy surveillance. Momentarily forgetting where he was, Drew quickly extinguished his joint and stuffed it into his brief case.

Excerpt from Chapter 9
‘Pistols, Speedos and Plastic Wrap.’

When it was finally settled that the diversion baskets would be filled with an even distribution of eggs, not ducks, Drew tucked his pistol back into the waistband of his Speedo. Beatrix gave in. She was exhausted from arguing her point that ‘if the ducks weren’t confined in the baskets they would surely wander off’. Drew was more concerned that the eggs ‘might break if left unprotected’. They agreed to disagree but compromised by adding plastic wrap to their shopping list. If the ducks, baskets and eggs were wrapped up then surely this plan could not possibly fail.

Excerpt from Chapter 14
‘See Through Dress Rehearsal’.

Following their annual streak at the County Fair, and a brief scare for Drew involving the horns of an angry bull, Beatrix and Drew sprinted for home and got back to work. It was time for a dry run through of their plan. Some say that practice makes perfect. Those that do don’t know Drew.

His cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. Drew had tangled himself up yet again with the plastic wrap. He toppled over landing on top of poor Beatrix who was hunched over in her best duck pose, partially wrapped to a basket. It took them both quite some time to wriggle free.

Excerpt from the Final Chapter
‘Ducks Cry Fowl.’

The day had finally arrived. With two hockey bags stuffed full with plastic wrap, eggs, baskets and frightened ducks, Beatrix and Drew casually sauntered past the museum guards and blended in with the crowds. Drew made his way to the maintenance room just off the main gallery. Beatrix took up her position next to the plate glass case that housed the priceless Donald Duck sketches. The sledgehammer carefully concealed in her stockings was causing her slight discomfort, but in a good way.

The preparations were going smoothly until the ducks caught glimpse of the plastic wrap. For several long minutes their flapping and quacking caused quite the ruckus, but it was nothing that a little duct tape couldn’t fix. However amidst all the commotion within that confined space, a few of the eggs cracked. With that, the stink bombs were prematurely launched so Drew rushed the plan into high gear.

"Finally, it was time to wrap everything up."...

“And now what?” Drew looked up into Anita’s tempestuous blue-green eyes. He wondered what thoughts could possibly be behind those deep pools of her soul.

“And now what - what?!” Anita shot back! Anita was on edge, and everyone knew it. Her eyes blazed at the man she thought of, at one time, as her friend. Now she knew the truth! Drew was no friend; Drew was a coward! Anita tried to think of how she could have possibly included him in this plan in the first place.

Beatrix looked from one, then to the other, and said slowly, “Drew! Anita! We won’t get anything accomplished with all this bickering going on!”

Drew sucked in a sharp breath. He looked over to Beatrix, and said. “Beatrix, this is fool-hardy at best! What do we think we’re doing?! Do you really think we could stand up to a corporation like Innotec? And now this!” He held out the printout of the e-mail that they had just received from Harper that morning. “Anita, Beatrix – this is the last straw! After all this is said and done, this whole thing will be ‘less fixed’ then it was before! I’m telling you, it’s going to blow up big time!”

Beatrix locked eyes with Drew, “Drew, it’s been planned out – we can do this. Look, you’ve invested what money you had; we all have for that matter. We looked at this from every possible angle. The e-mail from Harper will not be a problem. This plan will work!”

“And besides that,” Anita interjected, “we do have contingency plans if something should go wrong.”

“Yes,” Beatrix said, “and there’s that.”

“I don’t know…” Drew looked down at his shoes. “I’m just not sure…” Drew then dropped the e-mail printout from his hand and, sullenly, he got up and walked out of the room.

Beatrix looked over to Anita, “Heck of a time to be getting cold feet.”

Anita looked over to Beatrix, and then to the floor, “I know, I know” she softly intoned. “It’s just,” she hesitated, “it’s just that I thought he’d be more of a man then this.” She then went over and picked up the e-mail printout. “We can handle Harper – and Drew also if it comes down to that.”

“Like I’ve said before,” Beatrix continued, “we should never have gotten Drew involved with this. He’s never had the stomach for this kind of thing. I just hope that he doesn’t go off and do something crazy.”

“He won’t” Anita said. And then looking back to Beatrix, she said: “He’s a good man, he really is. Besides, like you said, we’ve looked at this from all angles. What could possibly go wrong?”

Beatrix sighed, at fifty-six, she was getting far too old for this kind of stuff, “Famous last words Anita?” She smiled and then added, “I really hope your right about Drew Anita – I’d hate to think of what could happen if he were to work against us.”

“Bobby, are you sure this will work?” Toni cautiously asked.

“For the last time Toni, we aren’t going to get caught!” Bobby said for the tenth time.

“I know, I know. It’s just that, Drew isn’t here yet, and I was wondering how that is going to affect our plans.”

“He better show up. He promised he would.” But Bobby didn’t sound quite as convinced as he had the previous time she’d asked.

“What about what Beatrix said?”

“Beatrix was just worried about losing her scholarship.” Bobby felt like he’d had this conversation a hundred times by now, and wished that Toni would just keep quiet, she was making him nervous.

The moon peeked from behind storm laden clouds, casting them in its pale light. They stepped back quickly behind the tree nearest them. Toni rearranged her grip on the feathered creature tucked into the crook of her arm. Its beak breaking her grasp as it quacked in protest. They heard a distance quack in answer.

Bobby glared at Toni and hissed, “Can’t you keep him quiet? If they all start up to soon, we won’t be able to make as clean a get away!”

“I’m sorry, maybe you should hold him?” Toni whispered.

“Me? Me? I can’t hold him! I’m holding the basket remember! And besides, my aim is better than yours and we agreed I’d be the one to throw, not to hold!” Bobby pushed the small button on the side of his watch and checked the green phosphoreus display. “How many seniors finally agreed to show up?”

“The whole graduating class, minus Beatrix of course.” Toni said with pride and continued, “Even got a good amount of the juniors to join us. I paired them myself with seniors. Juniors hold the ducks, seniors get the egg baskets.”

Bobby squinted into the surrounding darkness as the moon disappeared behind the clouds once again. “Where is everyone?”

“You had me arrange them all by the tree line, remember!?” Toni couldn’t help the slight exasperation that edged her voice. He was questioning her ability to do her portion of this little scheme again. “Look,” she continued, “if you didn’t think I could handle this, why’d you ask me to organize everyone?”

“No, no. I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought of how many kids are out there and wondered how they were staying out of sight for so long. I want to make sure they are all there!” Bobby hastily replied.

“They’re there! I checked on them before joining you. Everyone’s ready and waiting for eleven o’clock. Just as planned.” Toni starred hard at Bobby and continued, “Are you sure Drew can be counted on?”

“For the final time! YES!” Bobby hissed between clenched teeth.

“Ok, ok.” Toni muttered, “Don’t mind me, I just can’t believe you talked the principal’s son into helping us with this.”

Bobby dropped the basket and turned to Toni, his mouth working but no sound coming out, he swallowed hard. “The principal’s WHAT?!?”

Drew got up early that morning. It was a beautiful morning, the sun was shining, birds were chirping, even children were playing in the nearby park. However, it wasn’t a good morning for Drew, he knew something was amiss. Beatrix had been acting strangely all last week. He knew he was close to reaching the bottom of Bea’s secrecy, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Drew stretched his way out of bed, and through the blur of his eyes, could see that his answering machine light was blinking. Confused that he hadn’t seen the light last night, before he went to bed, he pushed the button.

“You have… one… new message” his mechanical friend announced.

“Drew? It’s Jerry. I have some information you may find interesting. It’s about Beatrix. Meet me at the park around 8 o’clock.”

Drew, still a little bleary from his relentless wandering mind the night before, rubbed his eyes to look at the clock. It was a quarter till. Drew forced himself into the bathroom, threw on some clothes and walked out the door. Luckily the park was just a few blocks from his apartment. When he arrived Jerry was already there waiting for him.

“Where have you been?” Jerry asked, as if he’d been waiting for hours.
“Sleeping,” Drew rubbed his head, “or at least trying to.”
“Well, here, listen to this, Bea is definitely up to something.” Drew rolled his eyes, and thought to himself in disgust, “This is why I dragged myself out of bed?”
“Here me out, I saw Beatrix walking out of a coffee shop last night.”
“Jerry,” Drew said irritated, “What are you talking about? Bea’s in Indiana at a conference. You must have seen someone else. Besides, when I told you, Bea’s been acting funny, I didn’t mean she was in the center of a conspiracy, only that she hasn’t been herself lately.”
“She was with a guy, a big guy! And trust me, it was Beatrix! Don’t you think I know my own brother’s wife? They were talking, then she gave him an envelope, it looked like money. After that they talked some more, and then, she left.”
“Jerry, get over it, you saw wrong. I’ll call Bea later tonight, and I’ll clear it all up.” Drew said shakily, he hoped Jerry was wrong, but had a nagging feeling about what Jerry said.

They spoke a few more words, and finally departed. Drew walked back home and with every step placed more faith in his little brother. By the time he was at his doorstep, he was confident; Bea had been lying to him. But why, and what about? He called Bea, he was aggravated, and the short conversation aggravated him even more.

The call upset Bea as well. She knew he was on to her. She just wanted her surprise to be a success, and Drew as always was ruining it.

The eggs were splashed with color, the chocolates were wrapped into their little nests and the smiles would soon arrive. Casting nervous glances over his shoulder as he was finishing, Peter felt an sense of accomplishment. How long had he been working on all this? Nevertheless, it was far too long and a strange sense of dread washed over his face. Long ears curling and nose rapidly twitching, Peter looked around to see what remained. Only a few more, which he worked on feverishly for if Drew were to peek in a window, the secrets would be out.

There was no Easter Bunny. Not anymore, anyway. Peter's tiny eyes clenched shut and tried not to remember hearing the details. There was a long stretch of road and plenty of time to dart across it. Simply the wrong place at the wrong time. The rest, too gruesome to discuss. A shudder flew through Peter's furry body as his eyes snapped open and he continued working. He didn't personally witness the tragedy but this job was appointed to him by some sort of deity.

A few months ago, light had streamed through the cabbage patches and Peter had seen a human approaching the area where he lay. His instinct to run could not be acted upon, for he could not move. He stared as the human knelt down and cradled him in her delicate hands. Terror morphed into serenity as Peter felt a voice echo through his head. She said her name was "Beatrix" and she was his creator. She also had said that a special one had fallen and he was the one to take the place but to be careful for there was danger ahead. But why Peter Cottontail? There were plenty of others in the patch who would have leapt at the chance. Bugs was happy for him but he knew that jealousy shook his fur every time they spoke.

Then there was Drew. The animal who had dreamed of working with the Easter Bunny since birth and who had tales of his methods and practices and how everything was created. He was something of a real-life Willy Wonka to the young rabbits and Drew spent most of his life hunting for him. Once he found out that he had been killed, he felt sorrow and excitement simultaneously. Who else to take over other than the rabbit who was most obsessed with him?

It was not to be. Not a word was spoken to Drew by anyone and the smokestacks started up again. He was shocked and revenge flew through his mind more than once. How dare this wretched pile of fur take HIS job?

But now, Peter reflected on the traps that had been set in front of his factory. The traps that he had managed to avoid and later discovered who had set them. He knew how to avoid the one that lay outside right now. But how many more would there be?

Drew held the water bottle to his forehead. Sweat mixed with the bottle’s condensation and ran down his face. The bottle was the last one in the bucket. The ice had mostly melted.

“There has got to be a better way,” he said, turning his back on the brutal August sun.

“There are always better ways,” whispered Beatrix. Her lips were blistered, and it hurt to talk. “But this is the quickest way, and you know it.”

She reached into the bucket and took the last sliver of ice. Cold water dripped from her hand as she held the ice to her lips. Salt and grit mixed with the melting ice. Nevertheless, the water was a small bit of relief from the heat.

Drew had already picked up his shovel and was stabbing at a stubborn piece of red clay near the bottom of the trench. He’s not lazy, Beatrix thought, but he likes to complain. The whining is almost worse than the heat.

It would be another hour before Jeff is due back to fly them out of this place. They should survive until then.

Jeff and Drew. God, how she used to love those two guys. Grabbing her pick, she thought back to the days at Earl’s Inn playing pool and dreaming of making it big. Jeff with his sunglasses and perfect smile, Drew with his endless energy, and Beatrix with her schemes, they were all anxious to get out of that rat hole of a town. They were all anxious for the good life.

Drew tossed another shovelful of Montana dirt over his shoulder and looked toward the horizon. “He better not be late,” he muttered.

“He’s never late,” she said quietly. Almost never, she thought.

Jeff was late for work the day this all began. Truth is, it was the power failure the night before that made his alarm clock fail. And it was the power failure the night before that led them to the old newspaper.

And it was the old newspaper that led them to Missoula. And it was in Missoula that Beatrix had her revelation. Which gave them the idea for the plan. The plans. Which is why Drew and Beatrix were working in almost unbearable heat waiting for a stolen helicopter.

Click, click, and click. Each piece fits so neatly together, this sequence of events. It’s hard to imagine that what now looks like fate, like Kismet, was all caused by a summer storm and a downed power line.

Drew dropped his shovel and sat down. “I’m done,” he heaved.

Beatrix watched as he grabbed the bucket and raised it to his lips in search of whatever water may be left. He looked up at her and said, “Want some?”

She shook her head. Drew did most of the work, let him have most of the water. Not that big a deal. Drew takes most of the water, Beatrix takes most of the money.

“Beatrix, you don’t know what you’re saying. How dare you tell me what I should do. Plus, talking about my love life is off-limits.” Amy said as she stormed out of the house. Beatrix jogged after her. “Amy,” she said, “I’m only telling you this because you are my sister and I love you. You have let this boy blind you to reality. You’re acting so stupid, and it’s driving everyone insane! You need to grow up. What do you mean by your ‘love life?’ You’ve never even kissed a guy.” But Beatrix’s words meant nothing. Amy ran strait to Drew’s house, hoping for a little comfort. “How dare my stupid sister try to sabotage my life. I know he loves me.” She muttered to herself. “I will surprise Drew with a romantic Caribbean cruise and I will propose to him, he will say yes, I will get my first kiss, and we will live happily ever after.”

Tickets in hand, Amy walked up the sidewalk to Drew’s house. As she neared the door, she brushed the sweat off her brow and adjusted her hair. Walking up the driveway, she heard Drew talking. “…tomorrow would be wonderful. Thank you so much. I’ve always loved Chile. (long pause) Well, I look forward to that, too. (pause) Oh wow! Thank you for calling me. You won’t regret a thing. (pause) I wont tell a soul. I swear. (pause) Yes, I understand. It will be as if we didn’t have this conversation. Adios.”

Amy paused outside the door, desperately holding back her tears. Last year, Drew applied for a job with the Government of Chile as a covert spy. They rejected his application due to the fact that, though him and his family were originally from Chile, his entire college education had been in the States. His residency in the U.S. hindered him from getting the position he wanted, but the government promised that they would see if there was a loophole so that they could hire him. He did, after all, graduate at the top of his class at Harvard Law. Secretly, Amy was glad that he was rejected. That meant that they could stay together. She knew in the back of her head that the phone call was Chili offering him a job. Nonetheless, she convinced herself that the phone call could have been anything. Perhaps he was planning a surprise party for a friend or, better yet, planning a trip for the two of them in Chile. Or maybe it was a trip to his hometown to meet the family and announce his wedding date!

Incredibly optimistic about the future and the fun she may be having in Chile, Amy skipped up to the door and rang the doorbell. Drew answered, gave her a great big hug and said, “Oh, baby. I was just about to pay you a visit. I have some horrible news, but I am glad you’re here. I couldn’t bear telling you this over the phone…”