BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale

15 Jan 04 - 08:40 AM (#1093266)
Subject: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Rapparee

Tossing cards into a hat wasn't getting the rent paid. But ever since she'd left it was all Chongo could seem to do.

That and drink. Had to get some money soon or the last bourbon bottle would be dry.

He flipped the three of clubs towards the hat, missed. Damn. The whole deck was all over the floor. He'd have to pick them up again. Maybe he'd buy three or four more decks, make it easier to....

It was a very official knock on the door. Cops, thought Chongo. Heavy cops. Maybe even G-men.

The door opened, crashed into the wall. Two guys in suits and hats. Yeah, thought Chongo, examining the last few weeks in his head, G-men. FBI.

"You Chongo Chimp, chump?" asked the taller.

"You curious or just dumb?" replied Chongo. "Who else would be...URK!" The shorter guy held Chongo by the neck up against the wall.

"Lissen, you! You keep a civil tongue in yor head, see? When you git asked somethin' by the Boss, you answer, you ____________ ape!" He let go, dropping Chongo to the floor.

"Oh, let's all sit down and discuss this like civilized people," said the taller. "Dicky, let it go. I don't think Mr. Chimp meant anything impolite."

"I don't like ___________ apes, that's all," muttered Dicky.

Chongo hoisted himself into his desk chair. The taller man took the client's chair. Dicky stood, looking like the business end of an unhappy .38.

Chongo looked at Dicky, said "You're ugly. Don't let me catch you in an alley, 'cause afterwards you'll be uglier."

"Listen, Chimp," began the taller man. "We're Federal agents." And he flipped an ID across the desk. Chongo glanced at it. Not the FBI. Must be..."Counterintelligence?" he asked.

The taller man waved off the question with a flick of his right hand. "You could say that, yes," he answered. "You interested in serving your country?"

"Maybe. Is there pay, or am I gonna do this outa the goodness of my heart and the empty of my cupboard?"

"A hundred a day plus expenses. And we'll pay hospital and funeral expenses if necessary."

The pay was good, though Chongo. Too good. This would be as dangerous as a rabid dog, maybe worse.

"And here's ten days pay as a signing bonus," added the taller man. Dicky snorted as a pack of twenties was laid on the desk.

Chongo looked at it, his stomach rumbled. He took it, counted it, stuck it in his desk.

"What's the caper?" he asked.

"Nazi spies," replied the taller agent. "At least, we THINK so." He turned to Dicky. "Go get the General. Now."

Dicky turned sullenly, left, and returned a moment later with a man in a suit. Dicky returned to the place where he'd been holding up the wall.

"Chongo Chimp," said the taller agent, who was now standing, "General Leslie Groves." They shook hands, both sat.

"So, Mr. Chimp," said Groves, "I've got to break all kinds of security here, but you'll need to know. We've run a background check on you, and you're a patriotic Primate-American clear through. So, tell me...have you ever heard of the Manhattan Project?"

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15 Jan 04 - 12:32 PM (#1093444)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Editor's note: Kreegah!!! Here we go, folks! It's another glorious Chongo Chimp, Primate Eye tale from the gritty streets of Chicago, USA. It's late 1940. The Germans are blitzing England, but America is still not in the war. Big Daddy Malone, the mad musical orangutan, is languishing in a high security jail cell (where he is likely to remain for a few years), and the North Side Gorillas and South Side Baboons are reorganizing in the wake of the collossal shootout down at the docks, which resulted in the siezing of 50 million contraband bananas by the Feds. Chongo Chimp has a new office and a new car, courtesy of the mysterious Laura "M", who sent him a $7,000 check from Spanish Morocco to replace his losses in the last caper. It was probably just a small slice of the money she netted for seven stolen diamonds, but who knows? It's hard to tell with Laura. Chongo has been lovelorn and morose ever since she left, tortured by his forbidden and secret love for the human female. Now he is about to get his tender little apeskin into another major screwup involving...the Manhattan Project!!! Yowsa!

Writers - keep the basics in mind: Chongo is the hero of these stories. He's smart, tough, cynical, hardworking...a typical Primate Eye. He doesn't get killed. Neither does police detective Drecker (Chongo's pal on the force)...and his 1933 banana yellow Cadillac, a gift from the KING (KONG) does NOT get blown up by anyone. Nymbel the Capuchin monkey is a handy sidekick for Chongo in these stories, so don't kill him either. If other people invent an interesting character, try not to kill him/her without at least getting their permission first. Vampy dames are needed in good primate eye stories, so feel free to come up with some here and there.

Useful bits of street-ape patois can be picked up from a google search for Edgar Rice Burroughs' Ape-English dictionary.

Kreegah!!!

- LH

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15 Jan 04 - 12:50 PM (#1093453)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Amos

Ape English Dictionary

Ape - English Vocabulary

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15 Jan 04 - 02:06 PM (#1093502)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Jack the Sailor

Chongo could tell it was an act. Dicky was saying Boss but he meant General. The "Boss" talked to Dicky with the deferance an smart officer pays an experienced first sergeant. As they boardes a non descript sedan Chongo's thought's went back to Africa.

"he's going left!"
"No! Right!"
Chongo held a grudging admiration for the little monkey they were hunting. Twenty strong chimps in their prime chasing this little protein boost and they hadn't got near him yet.
The little capuchin headed in to the coconut grove.
as the nearest chimps grew closer he threw a large nut to the ground. It split perfectly on a sharp rock and two of the persuers descended to the ground and hungrily cramed the white meat into their maouths.
Chongo shook his head in grudging admiration.

"What next?" thought Chongo as his quarry put another coconut under it arm and lept to the next tree.
"He's swinging on that vine toward those thick bushes."
"The vine is wrapping around that tree!"
"He's on the ground I heard him in the bushes!!"
As the other chimps hit the ground and started beating around the bushes, Chongo crept quitely to the large mahogany and peered into a groove between to lage branch's. Sure enough there was the monkey silenty laughing at the chimps on the ground.

Quick as a leopard, Chongo grabbed the little beast and held him up by his prehensile tail. He was just about to snap the scrawny neck when the monkey uttered a real head scratcher.

"If I'm going to be eaten at least its by a chimp that can tell the difference between a plantain and a plantation!"

"You're pretty smart yerself" admitted Chongo.

"Tell you what err....."
"Chongo"
"Tell you what Chongo. With my help you can run this jungle. Gettin' a bit protein now and then will be the least of your worries. You spare me now and I'll give you something I got from the mining camp. The miners call it bratwurst"
"OK Monkey you got a deal!"
"You can call me Nymbal Mr. Chimp."
"Nah... call me Chongo."
"Chongo, This looks like the beginning of a successfull symbiosis."
"Bratwust eh? What are they mining."
"The miners call it Yellowcake. Maybe it's good to eat."
Another fateful day in Niger.

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15 Jan 04 - 02:09 PM (#1093505)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Jack the Sailor

Please pardon the typos folks. I hope it don't ruin the story for you.

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15 Jan 04 - 05:55 PM (#1093640)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Chongo had not heard of the Manhattan Project. He wondered if it had something to do with building a memorial to the fallen King, the mighty Kong, who had done his last tragic swan dive off the Empire State Building back in 1933. Apes from all over the world still went to the site daily and placed flowers on the sacred spot where Kong had fallen, riddled with thousands of 30 caliber bullets, and breathed his last.

Well, it probably didn't have a thing to do with that. Humans didn't care much about Kong anymore, even if he had made a hell of a big splash in '33, and it was doubtful that they would build him a memorial, thought Chongo.

"Nope. I ain't heard of it, General. What say you and me have a drink and you can fill me in on this Manhattan Project?"

A Grand in hand, and a century a day...things were looking up. Just the medicine he needed to stop thinking about that dame Laura and get back behind the wheel.

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15 Jan 04 - 06:01 PM (#1093647)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Cluin

"Agreed," nodded the General. "Let's head over to the Officer's Club and we can have a stiff one, and you can check me over for fleas and ticks while I go over the high points"

"Aw shit, a traditionalist!" thought Chongo. "This won't be much fun."

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15 Jan 04 - 06:12 PM (#1093651)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

(snicker) Now, Cluin, let's not be completely ridiculous...they are gonna talk in Chongo's private office. That's the way it's done in Chicago. This is 1940 America, baby, and don't you forget it. Apes don't groom humans in America, and they don't usually touch them either if they can help it, cos it ain't considered proper behaviour by either party. The humans have got this idea that they are superior to apes, see, but they value the special abilities that an ape can provide...like climbing up sheer walls and breaking some bozo's stiff neck with a careless twist of the hairy arm and stuff like that.

- LH

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15 Jan 04 - 06:51 PM (#1093675)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Cluin

Oh well, if yer gonna take all the fun out of it...

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15 Jan 04 - 07:13 PM (#1093693)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: GUEST,Chongo Chimp

It ain't easy livin' on bananas and cheap booze when ya got bills to pay. A Grand on the desk and a hundred bucks a day can go a long way toward fixin' a problem like that. But it can't fix the ache in your heart. Hell, that's why I drink. I'll kiss a mandrill's rainbow tail before you catch me groomin' a human. Well, I might make an exception in one or two cases...but it would have to be a real special human. I ain't namin' no names either. This general must pull a lotta weight. I know what kind of money gets spent on military contracts. Enough money to keep a chimp in ripe mangos till the last trumpet call, Clyde. Lemme tell ya somethin', buddy...there ain't no bugs on Chongo Chimp! I use Mennen's products every day and I keep a clean hide. You want bugs, you just go down to the Bundolo Club on a Saturday afternoon and hang out with the gorillas in the poolroom. You'll go home with bugs you never even heard of. If you go home at all, that is...they don't like humans at the Bundolo Club.

Chongo

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15 Jan 04 - 07:57 PM (#1093724)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Cluin

You sure sound like "Blind DRunk in Blind River", Chongo.

I'd caution LH to watch for signs of Balzacne. (the disorder of an author's characters taking on a too-real existence for them).

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15 Jan 04 - 07:58 PM (#1093725)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: GUEST,Kerchak

Chongo, you little maggot, you have insulted gorillas for the last time! I am gonna find you and grind your little flea-ridden body into a pile of mush! You better write your will, you sap. The big Bongo is comin' for Chongo!

Kerchak

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15 Jan 04 - 08:36 PM (#1093744)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: GUEST,Chongo Chimp

I am quakin' in my booties, Kerchak. The last time we met I remember you didn't do so hot. I thought you were still in the hospital gettin' your coconuts treated. You mean to say you are back on the street? Awww...ain't that nice. Look, brow-ridge boy, you know where to find me. Any time. Just walk up the stairs and knock. Don't forget to tell your mommie you'll be late gettin' home, though.

By the way, I met a human today who's almost as ugly as you are. His name's Dicky. You guys oughta meet some time and share witlessisms.

Chongo

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15 Jan 04 - 08:37 PM (#1093746)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Peace

Screeching tires on the slick pavement; a still, tense moment that would have to last a lifetime for some unfortunate soul; a simlpe flick of the finger and slugs would turn some helpless victim into cream cheese. The vignette played time and time again in the moist heat of the dark: it danced in Chongo's brain, like a "C" movie in a "B" world.

Bananas: skin 'em, throw away the bone--what's left to eat. Like the seamy side of life. Like sucking a limp fish dry. Like . . . .

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15 Jan 04 - 08:50 PM (#1093755)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Jack the Sailor

"This general must be on Mescaline!" Thought Chongo "I'd better not mention the Manhattan project to anyone else, its sure to be top secret at least until after the war."
Chongo knew everything that went on in Chicago. He new about the hookers the gamblers and the pushers. He knew about that little experiment under the bleachers at the University. Nuclear fission power source of the future but maybe you could use it for more than "Buck Rogers" stuff. Maybe you could make a bomb. Those Blonde haired blue eyed miners back in Africa sure seemed to think so. He and Nymbel had over heard them talking about getting uranium for the Reich. They said that a couple of pounds of the stuff could turn London into a parking lot. He didn't believe them then. But now???

"I've got a nose for Nazis" said Chongo to the General. Tell me who they're spying on and I'll sniff 'em out quick enough.

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15 Jan 04 - 11:07 PM (#1093828)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: GUEST

A chill wind was raising choppy waves on Lake Superior. Little whitecaps showed under lowering skies with just an occasional beam of moonlight filtering through the pressing darkness. There was a sailboat beating southward through the chop. A weary young man clung to the tiller, his eyes straining for a shore he could not see. But he could hear breakers. He had to make that shore before dawn and then cover ground fast, try to make it to a tiny place called Eagle Harbour at the northern extreme of Keweenaw Point, Michigan.

He studied the compass for the thousandth time. It's rather like navigating a fighter plane across the Channel on a bad night, he thought, but so much slower...and even colder. The cold was beginning to numb his senses and stiffen his fingers. The tiller felt like a stick of ice, and the purloined jacket he was wearing gave little protection against the elements. There had been no time or opportunity to get hold of a better one.

Then he saw it, just for a moment. A blinking light...red, red, green....red, red, green. Then nothing. The signal! "Too lucky!" he exclaimed. "I must be the luckiest bastard in the whole air force!"

A slight adjustment to the tiller. She handled nicely. Nice to be sailing again, even under these conditions. It reminded him of the days before the war, sailing with his brothers. They had loved the blustery days, ripping along with the leeward side right down in the water, but a night like that on Lake Superior would have been the end of him. Fortunately the wind was rather moderate tonight, even if it was too damned cold.

Where was that signal? Ah, they must be playing it safe, and only signalling occasionally. Then he saw the shore clearly, a long curving expanse of rocks, crashing waves, and spray flying off in sheets. Christ! Where do I put her ashore? Where are they? Does it matter? Must put her ashore now.

The signal flashed again...red, red, green...and it was only a few hundred feet away. (By God, I've made it!) Then the little boat's keel caught on the bottom and she bumped, broke loose, caught again, slewed half around. A wave broke half over the side and drenched him. Cold as bitter death. The boat lurched shoreward like a crab, leaning half over and catching again. Time to swim for it.

He dove in and felt the cold superior waters close around him, so cold it was like fire. He broke surface, gasped for air and struck shoreward with desperate energy. Got to move on adrenalin while it lasted.

He rode a big wave in for the last twenty feet or so and washed up on small rocks and sand, rolled over, and struggled away from the next set of waves that were coming in to clutch at his heels. Hell and damnation! So cold and raw. Never been so cold.

When the flashlight fell on his face he could only look up at it dumbly. If these were border police, he was too cold and tired to fight or run anymore.

"Leutnant Brehmer, I presume?" The man was thin, dressed in a dark raincoat, with the collar pulled close around his face. He wore spectacles and a fedora.

"Yes," said the young man, rising cautiously to his feet and shivering. There were two other men standing near, studying him carefully. If they were armed, they weren't showing it.

"Who sent for you?" asked the thin man.

"Marika," said Brehmer. "Who commissioned you?"

"Donner und Blitzen," answered the thin man, smiling. "Welcome to America, Leutnant Brehmer. I am your contact, 'Otto'. I apologize for the poor harbour conditions. It is not usually this unpleasant crossing the international border into 'the land of opportunity', but we are living in difficult times, all of us. Cigarette?"

"I should much prefer a hot drink," said Brehmer. "Or two. Or some Schnaps. I am freezing my goddamn arse off."

The other two men laughed, and one of them took off his coat and pressed it on Brehmer. They hustled him up the beach, scaled a small embankment, and got in a car whose motor was still idling. One man took the wheel, the other got out a map, while Brehmer and "Otto" sat in the back seat. And thanks to God! There was a thermos of still hot coffee in the car. Brehmer drank down the coffee like it was the nectar of paradise.

"Otto" studied his catch of the night with great interest. He got out a bottle of brandy and offered it to Brehmer. "No schnaps tonight, I'm afraid." No matter. The brandy was an excellent substitute.

"So, how did you like Canada? Were they hospitable?"

"Not terribly. But they were basically decent. You know the British. They are great believers in law, order, and honour, and really quite proper fellows to deal with, in my opinion."

"Yes. So I hear. And are they proper fellows to fight with?"

"Definitely," said Brehmer. "We've had the devil of a tussle with them over bloody old Eng-gel-land and the thrice damned channel. They are brave, skillful, and entirely dedicated men, flying quite good aircraft. I had the excellent luck to shoot down six of them since August, and then my string of luck ran out, and they shot me down instead one day over Kent. My crate got raked fore and aft by some smart fellow in a Spitfire. He had me cold, but my mates came right to my aid and chased him off. Then I tried to make it back but the engine started smoking badly. It caught fire shortly after that, and I bailed out. Nothing else to do. I found myself descending into a beautiful little field with several very unfriendly gentlemen with pitchforks waiting to receive me when I landed. Since then I have been a guest of His Majesty," Brehmer smiled wryly. "They sent me and a number of others to Canada shortly after. It seems we were too set on escaping, so they decided to put us farther afield. An ocean away."

"Yes. Well, you are in America now, and America is neutral territory. Still, you're what could be termed an illegal alien, so we are going to arrange for a new identity for you for the next little while. You are going to be a diplomatic assistant named 'Becker'. Here are your papers."

Brehmer looked them over. Hans Becker. Well, not a bad name, he supposed. Anyone could be called Hans Becker. It was like being called Tom Smith in England. Totally ordinary.

"So," said 'Otto', "for the last time I congratulate you as Leutnant Jurgen Brehmer for your past aerial exploits on behalf of the Reich. We now have a different sort of work for you to do."

"I am not returning to Europe? I wish to fly again with my unit."

"Not right away. First we need you to help with some intelligence work right here in America. In the big city of Chicago, in fact. I will brief you on that shortly. Your flying abilities may yet prove very useful."

"I see," said Brehmer soberly. This wasn't what he had counted on, but he was ready to do whatever was deemed to be his duty. "I want to write to my family as soon as possible," he said.

"Yes, by all means. We will provide everything you need for that," 'Otto' assured him.

They pulled into a dirt road and up to a small cabin. It looked like a hunting lodge, and when they went in it proved to be exactly that, complete with a handsome moose head mounted on the wall.

One of the other fellows, whose name was apparently Martin, started up a fire in the wood stove and soon the place was reasonably warm. Brehmer suddenly realized how utterly tired he was, and when 'Otto' showed him to a bunk bed he collapsed on it and fell asleep immediately.

"Good man," said Martin. "Imagine escaping and getting all that way in a little sailboat, and then landing within a few hundred feet of the arranged spot. It's almost unbelievable."

"Yes," agreed Bruno. "He must be a tough and resourceful one. I hope he doesn't get pneumonia from his dip in the lake."

"We must make absolutely sure he doesn't, gentlemen," said 'Otto'. "Warmth and food and tender care are the order of the day. We need him far more at this moment than the Luftwaffe does. We'll give him a good couple of days rest here, and then we go straight to Chicago, and we start working. Martin, Bruno, I need that boat sunk. Before daylight.   Take the motor launch up the coast and do it now."

"What?" protested Bruno. "It's 4 AM."

"Exactly. Not much time. Why are you still here?" said 'Otto' sharply, drawing his brows together. Bruno glanced at Martin, sighed, and they turned as one and headed out into the darkness.

"Never misses a damned thing, does he?" muttered Bruno, as he started up the car.

"Not a damned thing whatsoever," agreed Martin. "This poor flyboy, Brehmer, is going to get put through his paces, I'll guarantee it. He may soon wish he was back fighting the Tommies again."

"I think he already wishes it," said Bruno, putting the Packard in gear. "Some of them are born to it. The life expectancy is short, so they say, but you get to fly high for awhile...just like a god... and you get all the girls you can handle when you're on leave. France is a lovely place."

"Yes. Well, there are girls enough in Chicago for me," smiled Martin. "I love the USA. I hope to God they stay neutral forever."

"You'd better," said Bruno I don't think they're liable to join forces with us any time too soon."

* * * * *

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15 Jan 04 - 11:50 PM (#1093844)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Excuse me. I was that last GUEST. I didn't realize I was de-cookied when I submitted the post. I know precious little about General Grove and the Manhattan Project, but I do know a fair bit about the Luftwaffe in WWII, so there you go. This should help make for an interesting addition to the story, I think. All kinds of possibilities.

- LH

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16 Jan 04 - 05:14 AM (#1093947)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Hrothgar

Franz von Werra would have loved it.

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16 Jan 04 - 09:24 AM (#1094096)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Yes, as a matter of fact I was thinking about him too. I looked up some stuff on his amazing escape (all the way back to occupied Europe), which was made into a film in England after the war, starring Hardy Kruger as Von Werra.

- LH

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16 Jan 04 - 10:00 AM (#1094126)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos

The general had left a package with all the info that Chongo needed to get started and not a pinch more. Chongo hadn't expected too much, "You don't get to be a general by giving away all you know", he mused, "specially in these type of affairs."

It seemed that someone had been using small chimps and monkeys to penetrate security through the air shafts of the building. Too small for humans but not for smaller species of primate. Security had found chimp hairs on the floor below one of the air shafts. The lieutenant commander in charge of security had gone from an inflated idiot to a sad sack private in seconds flat in Grove's private office and was now cooling his heels in the brig until charges could be brought. His side of the story was that he didn't think that there was a chimp alive with half a brain that would be interested in what was going on much less understand it. Chongo ignored the obvious bigotry of the man. The feeling was mutual between the species and didn't look to be changing anytime soon. Maybe the war would make some changes. Graves had thought different knowing that if the chimps or monkeys didn't understand they could still observe, listen, photograph, record, steal or God knows what and deliver their findings to someone who did. Some files had gone missing and also some vials. Nothing too specific on the vials except for being highly radioactive. Whoever stole them would be extremely sick or dead by now. Teams were out with geiger counters but hadn't found any signs of contamination.

It made Chongo sick to think about it. Bright, eager young chimps, trying to make a fast buck and have an adventure being used by Nazi spies. They probably thought it was all fun and games to spy on the "stupid humans". And their final payment was likely to be a pretty horrific death. Graves had to keep his men out of the search for fear of revealing that something was going on. "Start adding up pieces of the jigsaw and sooner or later you can guess the whole picture", he'd said.

Chongo grabbed the phone and asked the operator to conect him with the 6th precinct where his friend Drecker worked. If any dead or extremely ill chimps had hit the hospitals or morgue he'd be the one to know. "Better keep this on the quiet side," Chongo thought.
"Sixth Precinct, Drecker speaking", Drecker answered with a growl.
"Hey big boy, it's Chongo, time to pay up on that bet you lost. How's a hot dog in the park sound?"
"Sounds good, I need to get out of this lousy office anyway."
"See you at noon then", Chongo said and waited for Drecker to hang up. Chongo placed his "hand" over the microphone and waited for a few seconds. Sure enough there was a series of secondary clicks afterward. Either Groves, his men, or someone else had been listening in. Chongo was glad that he and Drecker had arranged some secret code between themselves back when they were on the force. Drecker would be waiting on the bridge in the park at about 1130. Chongo had discovered a spot below the bridge where he would be unsen but could hear what Drecker said and speak to him without anyone else being privy to what was going on. It would just look like a man waiting on the bridge to anyone else. Chongo could then slip around and meet him at noon for that hotdog. Chongo got hungry just thinking about it. Chicago has the best 'dogs in the world, well known fact!

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16 Jan 04 - 12:33 PM (#1094242)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Editors note: Excellent! I like it. Okay, it seems, according to Rapaire, that the Manhattan Project (as named by FDR) officially started in very early 1942 but that it had been going on unofficially in various ways since 1938. What the heck, this is a Chongo Chimp story, right? It's an alternate reality. So Chongo's 1940 Chicago/USA is very much like ours was at the time...but it's a bit different in some respects (a lot more talking apes around, for instance...oh, and monkeys too! Don't forget the monkeys or they'll get really upset.).

I don't see why we can't move the old Manhattan Project ahead by about a year...to Dec/40, shortly before Christmas. Sound okay, Rapaire?

This means our Luftwaffe pilot has escaped from Canada after getting shot down in the Battle of Britain and moved overseas by his British captors, and the USA and Germany are not at war yet...but there is vigorous espionage going on without a doubt, so Mr Brehme and 'Otto' and the rest of the German operatives must operate very undercover, to say the least.

- LH

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16 Jan 04 - 01:47 PM (#1094299)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos

11:30 found Chongo at the park watching from a copse of trees for Decker to show. Sure enough Lance was there, trench coat and all. He didn't even need to look toward the street to know that the great banana was parked tenderly by the curb. He watched Drecker bite the end of a cigar and take a few puffs before slipping under the bridge.
"Didn't anybody tell you smoking is bad for your health?" Chongo said by way of a greeting.
"My wife, which you ain't, 'bout a million times, but in our line of work you're worried about cigars? I worry more about a severe case of lead poisoning," Drecker replied. "What's cooking short stuff?
"We, and I do mean we, have got some hot troubles brewing up. And I do mean hot. I need to know if you've seen any young chimps dead in the morgue or really sick at the hospitals from strange symptoms," Chongo said.
"I'll check around. What should I be looking for?" Drecker asked.
"I don't quite know myself, yet, but it's gonna be something really strange. Nothing like the flu or any disease you've likely seen. Just do me a favor and keep it quiet like, oh, and do yourself a favor and stay away from them if you find them."
"Chongo, what's going on?"
"Believe me pal, I'd tell you if I could, but I will tell you this, you don't want to know."
Drecker shivered in his overcoat. He and Chongo had been through some pretty hairy stuff and Chongo had never said anything like that before. "That bad?" he asked.
"Drecker if this goes south it could ruin your life as well as the lives of everyone else in this little slice of paradise." Chongo replied. "That's really all I can say, now how 'bout that dog? Just talking about it earlier has got me hungry."
"Sure thing, my treat. Settling that diamond / banana mess got the Captain off my back, so I owe you, " Drecker said as he shaved the ash off the dog ear, snuffed the coal and stuffed it in his pocket.
"I think I got it this time Lance. You may think you owe me but this is gonna be a huge favor I'm asking of you." Drecker let out a whistle and turned to walk toward the hotdog cart across the park. Chongo waited a few minutes and climbed back to his original spot in the trees. Good, if he or Drecker had been followed there was no sign of it. Of course it might mean that the tail was really good, he thought. He then took the arial route across the park so he could come in from the opposite side of Drecker. "Can't be too careful. After the dog he intended to visit someone who might know a thing or two about radiation poisoning. But right now that dog was whistling for him!

---

16 Jan 04 - 10:57 PM (#1094642)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Editor's note: Well, Rapaire started off this idea about a caper involving the Manhattan Project's secret work in Chicago in 1942, so I guess he gets to call the shots on the timeline. Here's the scoop about the Italian scientist Enrico Fermi, who headed up the hidden lab in Chicago...

Upon the discovery of fission, by Hahn and Strassmann early in 1939, Fermi immediately saw the possibility of emission of secondary neutrons and of a chain reaction. He proceeded to work with tremendous enthusiasm, and directed a classical series of experiments which ultimately led to the atomic pile and the first controlled nuclear chain reaction. This took place in Chicago on December 2, 1942 - on a volleyball field situated beneath Chicago's stadium. He subsequently played an important part in solving the problems connected with the development of the first atomic bomb (He was one of the leaders of the team of physicists on the Manhattan Project for the development of nuclear energy and the atomic bomb.)

So...we've got a secret lab in an underground volleyball field (of all things!) under Chicago Stadium. Wild! And the first controlled nuclear reaction of an atomic pile is set to take place on December 2, 1942, almost a year to the day after Pearl Harbour...and Hitler's lunatic declaration of war on the USA which followed very shortly after the Japanese attack...thus solving a big problem for FDR, who certainly wanted to start fighting the Germans without delay.

Our story, therefore, had best be set in late 1942...say early November/42. This means that Lieutenant Brehmer (alias Hans Becker) and his new boss 'Otto' and the various other German agents will have been forced to adopt yet new identities...and are now disguised as...Dutchmen? Belgians? Or something like that...

The scene involving Leutnant Brehmer's escape across Lake Superior will have been a flashback to earlier events that occurred in December 1940. The poor, frustrated Messerschmitt pilot has been languishing in Chicago for nearly 2 years now, doing espionage work for 'Otto'! (His only real desire having been to return to combat with his squadron, which is now involved in desperate fighting in Russia, as the Stalingrad campaign moves into its final, disastrous phase...)

Sheesh! Oh, well, it was Rapaire's idea, like I said...

- LH

---

17 Jan 04 - 12:35 AM (#1094685)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Jurgen Brehmer was in a lousy mood. It wasn't hard to see. He had become uncommunicative lately, terse to the point of rudeness. Right now he was seemingly staring a hole into his coffee cup, Bruno noted.

"What's eating you?" said Bruno. "You're as friendly as a caged leopard these days."

"A good comparison," commented Brehmer coldly, continuing to stare at his coffee.

"Huh!" grunted Bruno, noncommitally.

Martin smiled. Bruno had such a way with words. "I know what's bothering our hero, Bruno. He wishes he was in Russia right now, shooting down the damn Bolsheviks in record droves...don't you, Brehmer? His 11 little victories in France and England are as nothing now, when our experten are shooting down 100 ruskies...or 150...or more. Eh, Brehmer?"

Brehmer shot him a dark glance from his icy blue eyes. "A hundred and fifty dead Russians may not be enough, Martin. Perhaps not nearly enough. Have you gentlemen been paying attention to the news lately?"

"I have," admitted Bruno, "but you can't believe everything you hear in this damned country. Ninety-five percent of it is outrageous propaganda and the rest is sheer conjecture. The winter will be hard as always, but we'll tough it out and hold...just like last year...and when Spring comes we will whip their red arses right back to the gates of Moscow, and hang that bastard Stalin in his Kremlin with the rest of the murdering lot of commissars and hellhounds."

"Like we hung that bastard Churchill in London?" inquired Brehmer. "When we took the British parliament and burned Buckingham Palace last year after our glorious invasion?"

"Oh, for Christ's sake, Brehmer! If you are going to be completely miserable, sarcastic, and bloody-minded you can do it alone." Bruno threw down his papers angrily and stalked out of the room.

Martin puffed thoughtfully on his cigarette...he liked American cigarettes very much. "You're quite right of course, Brehmer. They're in a hell of a fix at Stalingrad. I know it. You know it. We all know it, but people don't like to talk about it. If this thing about the secret bomb is true, it is our greatest chance to turn the tide in a most unexpected way and win this war. It's absolutely vital. You do see that, don't you?"

"Yes," said Brehmer. "I see it plainly. And I hate it."

"But why?" expostulated Martin.

"I'll tell you why," replied Brehmer bitterly, looking straight into Martin's eyes with his jaw muscles clenched tightly. "Two reasons why. Number one: Suppose Otto is right. Suppose this strange uranium device can blow up half a city in a single burst. Suppose it is even much worse than that..."

He got up and walked swiftly across to the large map of Europe that was pinned on the wall. Someone had put little markers all along the fighting lines in Russia. They clustered around Stalingrad in a dense concentration...red for the Russians, blue for the Werhmacht. More markers stood in North Africa, where Erwin Rommel's fortunes of war had swung wildly back and forth in the past year from triumpth to disaster to further triumph and even greater disaster.

"Do you know what that would mean, Martin? A device like that falling on a city? It would be the end of a brave soldier's courage or usefullness. The end of moral decency of any kind. The end of meaningful service and justifiable sacrifice. The end of all measure of sanity. The end of whatever it is that keeps us human. That is precisely why I hate it. I wish I had never heard of such a thing."

"See this map, Martin?" He swept a pointing finger from the peninsula of Brittany sharply across to Warsaw...or what was now more like the ruins of what had once been Warsaw. "Europe is quite small...or it would be without that hellish morass of Soviet Russia in the East, stretching on forever and ever. What in God's name led them to attack Russia in '41? We were not finished with the British Empire yet, and they attacked the biggest country in the world. It was an act of madness! I tell you, if Gerd Barkhorn and the others shoot down 500 Russians apiece it may not be enough. And imagine, Martin...imagine what this bomb could do in a small country like Germany. This is an enormous country here, Martin, almost as big as Russia. This is a country that could arm the entire world from its factories, but look at our country. We are strong, but Germany is small."

"And that is why we MUST stop this American project now," declared Martin vehemently, jumping out of his chair. "We have to beat them to the punch or it's all over. But watch it...Otto does not like defeatist talk in the least, nor does he like anyone to question the wisdom of the higher-ups, and you know that."

"I know it too well," muttered Brehmer. "I heard they basically sacked 'Dolpho' Galland for questioning 'the Fat One's' judgement. The best ace on the Western Front and they kicked him upstairs...the last place for a man like him. He doesn't fly anymore in combat. Stupid bastards!"

"You really love the air force don't you, Brehmer?" Martin offered him a cigarette.

Brehmer took it, lit up, and took a long draw. His eyes were far off, looking across dappled skies at 5,000 meters, contrails streaming off the wingtips in a shallow climb. Checking the trim. Looking back for his wingman. Sun gleaming on perspex in a sudden rainbow display...

"Yes. Damn right I do, Martin. I should be there, not here. I am not a spy, but Otto won't let me go." He stood lost in thought, then shook his head and took another puff. "So...what is your new identity for this month?"

"Oh," laughed Martin. "I'm a Dutchman. Again! I almost begin to believe I AM Dutch. A Mr Van Schelde. I sell refrigerators, and I have a loving wife in Mexico who is probably screwing the greengrocer in my absence. And you?"

"I am a Pole," answered Brehmer wryly. "Imagine that. My name is Wally Krupinski, American-style Polish. Lovely name, wouldn't you say?"

"Indeed," agreed Martin, "...but, Brehmer?"

"Yes, what?"

"You said there were two specific reasons you hated 'it'. The uranium device. What was the second?"

Brehmer sighed deeply, sat down and rested his head in his hands for a long moment, then looked up slowly. His eyes were bleak and empty. "Did you see them?"

"Did I see who?"

"Who do you think? The monkeys Otto used. The...the little chimpanzees, they call them. Did you see them afterward?"

Martin didn't answer. He had seen them, and it wasn't something he wanted to dwell on or think about at all.

"I tell you, Martin, we are playing with fire here, but not your ordinary fire. It's Hellfire this time, my friend...and it's going to poison everything and everyone it touches. It has only just begun."

Martin said nothing, but looked down at his shoes, while Brehmer smoked furiously. They stood there in a morbid silence until Bruno came bursting joyfully back in and shattered the spell..."By God, gentlemen, it's my lucky day! My horse came in! Look at this. Panquitch by a nose! By a nose I tell you! Drinks all around, you poor gloomy bastards, and I'm buying. That'll put a smile on your ugly faces. It's Panquitch uber alles, and all is well with the world tonight..."

* * * * *

---

17 Jan 04 - 08:49 AM (#1094796)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Rapparee

Why, thank you. Thank you. I've been blamed for a lot of things, but never before for making history!

But then again, maybe I *did* make history, since I've decided that Solipsism is the Only Answer....

Couple quick corrections, though. First, it was a hand ball court, not a volleyball court. And the pile wasn't lit under THE Chicago stadium (there wasn't and isn't any such), but under the bleachers at Stagg Field at the University of Chicago. Gone now, that football arena honoring coach Alonzo Stagg, but there's a historical marker. No, it doesn't glow in the dark and you could live on the site of the old pile and not mutate.

---

17 Jan 04 - 10:36 AM (#1094838)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Yeah, I thought it was the University of Chicago too, Rapaire, but I lifted that italicized quote right off a supposedly factual historical internet site about Enrico Fermi...boy, ya can't trust anyone these days! It makes a lot more sense to have a science project at a University than underneath a sports stadium. Thanks for the correction.

- LH

---

17 Jan 04 - 08:00 PM (#1095195)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos

Damnit, Damnit, Damnit!

I thought perhaps Chongo could run into a young Diane Fossy or Jane Goodall at the university (either as student or visiting lecturer. But doing my homework I find that they would have both been 10 years old at the time. I know there have been some young scholars but that's just too damn much! Arrrgh!!!!!

---

17 Jan 04 - 10:26 PM (#1095269)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Editor's note: Too bad. That would have been very cool. Mind you, a world in which there are talking, cigar-smoking, humanized apes and monkeys all over the place as well as wild ones out in the bush would have put a young Diane Fossey or Jane Goodall in a rather different position in some respects, but I suspect their basic strong affection for primates still would have shown itself.

Chongo is a big fan of both of them. In fact this may partly account for his secret yen for the human female...or not. Hard to say. Naw...it's probably just those long, long legs...or the "grass is greener on the other side of the fence" syndrome.

Don't be in a rush on this story, guys...we've got all the time in the world to write it. Now where's Rapaire? We need some more atomic trivia...I wonder what that slippery scoundrel Otto is up to? Hmmm....

- LH

---

18 Jan 04 - 06:27 PM (#1095795)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Peace

Chongo sat down to contemplate life. Death, where is thy sting. He munched on snacks that tasted of hampster. Fast banana or not, Chongo was in a mood. A dark mood that matched the sky, the horizon of his life, the feeling one gets from a nuclear reaction at the cellular level. Micro-macrocosm: what's the dif. Life sucked on that grey, dismal afternoon in the Windy City. Where to from here, he wondered? And what was to come?

---

18 Jan 04 - 09:12 PM (#1095909)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Rapparee

The telephone rang. Not the regular phone, but the Special One. Rico answered.

"Doc? We found more stuff, sent it to Area 10. Good stuff. You should have some more by the end of the week."

"Thank you," he said, and hung up. "Good news," he said to the young man across from him. "There will be more slugs coming up from Oak Ridge by the end of the week."

"Oh, that's great, Doctor Fermi!" exclaimed the young man. "We've had the graphite blocks ready for over a week."

"Yes," said another, older man. "It's a long process, but this new uranium hexafluoride seperation is faster than the old centrifuge method. But...do you know where they're getting the uranium from?"

"Leo," Enrico Fermi said, "I understand that a very patriotic chap in New York had stored a warehouse of it away before the war broke out. He thought that we might need it, and he stored several tons of Congo pitchblend." He chuckled. "I understand that the FBI was quite surprised when they asked him for pounds and he offered -- for free, mind you -- several tons of high grade ore."

They all laughed at their mental pictures of what the poor G-man would have looked like.

"So, back to work," Szilard said. "Enrico, what do you think of this?" And on the blackboard he quickly wrote an equation.

"Interesting...interesting. If the moderators fail, then we could expect, maybe, the obliteration of a goodly part of Chicago."

"Or nothing at all. Or a puddle of radioactive chemicals."

"True, true. But if Albert is right, and he is you know, we might even set the atomsphere alight."

Szilard chuckled. "Well, that would certainly end the war!"

Fermi turned to the young man. "Do you think that you could get some students who would be willing to pour buckets of cadmium compound on the pile if the reaction got out of hand?"

Szilard said, "That's not very effective, Enrico."

Fermi sighed. "Yes, but it's the best we can do right now."

---

19 Jan 04 - 12:38 AM (#1096018)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Ursula Neuhoff was a fine looking woman, no question about it, and she was an excellent agent as well. Otto was looking forward to seeing her again. He had plans for the evening. Ursula had been placed in the Chicago area five years earlier, in '38, back around the time of the Sudeten crisis in what had been Czechoslovakia for 2 short decades, but was now part of the greater Reich. It was most satisfying seeing these bastardized little nations that should never have come into existence at all being amalgamated into Europe's greatest nation, thought Otto, and it hadn't been done a moment too soon. Without an iron man like the Fuhrer at the helm, it would certainly never have happened at all. Otto had tremendous confidence in Adolf Hitler. He was unquestionably the greatest man of the century, perhaps of all time. "When this war is over," thought Otto, "those who fought hardest to realize the Furher's dream will be the ones most highly rewarded...and I shall be one of them."

He knocked on Ursula's apartment door. No answer. Where was she? He had been most explicit about the time, and he expected nothing less than absolute punctuality from his agents. He knocked again, louder.

"Who is it?" came her voice, faintly. It sounded like she must be in the washroom. Probably seeing to her makeup. They're all the same, he thought.

"It's Kris Kringle, who do you think," he snapped irritably. "Open the door."

There was a brief pause. Then he heard the door click, and she opened it. "Good evening, Mr Kringle," she said airily. "Don't you usually come by the chimney? This is America, you know, and appearances must be kept up. Besides, you're over a month early, I believe."

Otto glared at her. He was unamused. "Well, come in, then," she said evenly, in an I-don't-really-give-a-damn sort of way, and she walked over to the cabinet and started mixing herself a drink. "I suppose you want one too?" she asked.

"Yes, I'll have one of course," said Otto, attempting to match her studied indifference. Clearly she was not in an amiable mood tonight. That was damned inconvenient.

He studied Ursula carefully through narrowed eyes that burned with a pale inner light...not an obvious light, but a dangerous one. The woman was gorgeous, long-legged and poised, ash blond, a real "looker" as the Yanks said, and she knew it all too well. She was as hard as a yankee silver dollar and had probably been touched by about as many hands in her time, he suspected...but discreetly, of course. Ursula was a clever little courtesan who knew exactly what she was doing at all times. If it was good for Ursula, it got done. If not, too bad.

"I'll take a double," he said.

"Ah!" she giggled. "You're learning more and more of the American tough guy expressions from the movies. That's good! People might even get the idea you are a tough guy..."

"People already have that idea, Ursula," he said in a silky voice, "and they are right. Don't ever doubt it."

"Oh, I don't doubt it at all, Otto...not in the least." She walked over and handed him his drink just as calmly as if she were arranging some flowers on a Sunday afternoon. "So, what is the news on the great "monkey" operation?"

Otto took the drink and looked at it carefully, as an archaeologist might study an ancient shard. This was how they did it in the gangster movies. He was deliberately stretching out the suspense. He sipped it thoughtfully. Not bad. She would make a good cocktail waitress in a fancy bar.

"It was a semi-success," he said at last. "We got a number of valuable items, but not as much as I had hoped for. By the way, they weren't all monkeys...we used some apes too. Small chimpanzees. They are surprisingly clever for such primitive creatures."

Ursula snorted. "They're filthy, disgusting things. This city is absolutely infested with the wretched creatures, everywhere you go. I detest them."

"So do I, Ursula, so do I, but they have proven useful. When one is in a battle for survival one uses whatever must be used. Once the battle is won, then one disposes of the trash. You will not see these creatures around in the New Order, except perhaps in a zoo somewhere. I promise you that."

"It can't happen too soon. Still, you say they did well?"

"Quite well. But we won't be able to use them again. The Amis are onto us, and that hole has been sealed. As for those particular monkeys...and apes...well, they won't be of any use to anyone again."

"You had them eliminated?" she asked, leaning forward with a quickening interest.

"I more or less had to," he replied. "They were exposed to very toxic materials, and were dangerous to even be around. They would not have lived long in any case. It was...unpleasant."

Ursula extracted a cigarette from a gold case. "I didn't think you found killing unpleasant, Otto. You surprise me."

"I don't, Ursula. I rather enjoy it." (Otto relished delivering lines of that sort, and he watched carefully to see if it had the desired effect on her.) "I especially enjoy it when eliminating enemies of society...but these were just tools that had served their time. Nothing more. At any rate, that gambit is used up. We are going to have to find another means of either robbing them or destroying the project outright. Blow it sky high if necessary. We have to cut the head off this snake before it becomes venomous, and I have some good ideas how. I intend to tell you all about it over dinner in some quiet place. Your pick. You know the clubs better than I do."

She thought that over. "Alberto's then," she said. "They have excellent Italian food and booths that are quite private. Excuse me for a moment while I change into a better gown."

He got up and followed her in the direction of the bedroom, placing a hand on her shoulder..."Perhaps I can help you."

She stopped, looked at him cooly, took the hand in her own and removed it from her shoulder quite deliberately. "It's way too early in the evening for that, I think." She stepped into the bedroom and closed the door with an audible click and snick of the lock.

"Hell and damnation," muttered Otto under his breath. He wandered back over to the couch, nursed his drink and his general level of frustration, and gazed out the window at the lights of Chicago. What a city! It was big, brawling, dirty, vulgar, and full of energy, even with the war rationing in effect. American servicemen could be seen everywhere. The country was in a ferment ever since the Pearl Harbour raid, and they had apparently won a huge victory in the central Pacific back in the summer at some obscure little island called Midway. Bad news for the Japanese, who had stared out so well in the beginning. One could only hope that Japan would hold the line now...make them fight for every inch and every island, and keep them fully occupied while Germany dealt with Russia. It was becoming a desperate business...a bigger war than anyone had anticipated in '39 or '40. It was not clear to Otto why the Fuhrer had declared war on the USA after Pearl Harbour, but there must have been the most pressing reasons for doing so. One couldn't expect to know everything that was happening behind the scenes. Probably the Americans had intended a surprise attack of their own on Europe. They had already been clandestinely helping the British fight the U-boats in a totally illegal fashion! Yes, Hitler had simply decided to bring things plainly out into the light of day. It was worrisome, though. The USA had tremendous strength in men and machines and it was growing daily by leaps and bounds. The genii was truly out of the bottle. A number of his reports on American production figures had simply been rejected outright by Berlin. Some idiot in an office there couldn't fathom the straight facts he was feeding them, and at the risk of his own life. It was infuriating! If only he could go to Berlin and talk to Hitler himself, face to face...then something would be done.

"I'm ready." He turned. Ursula was wearing a simply stunning burgundy gown, low-cut, pearls at her throat. Marvelous. She was right, it had been too early in the evening. His mistake. He'd been cooped up too long.

"Excuse me for my impetuosity, Ursula," he said, bowing slightly. "I don't know what I was thinking. Too many long hours in the office waiting for information to come in, I suppose, and not enough down time."

"I accept your apology, Otto," she said lightly. "Let's go and have a simply delicious meal, and some champagne, and you can tell me all about exactly how we are going to blow Mr Enrico Fermi and his crew of expatriate saboteurs off the face of the planet."

"Amen to that," he agreed, offering his arm. "To the devil with them all." She took it, and they went out to the street to hail a cab.

- LH

---

19 Jan 04 - 03:42 PM (#1096477)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Amos

Ach, LH, me hat's off to ye!! Truly a raconteur of the first order!

A

---

20 Jan 04 - 01:35 PM (#1097275)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos

Chongo sat and considered his next move as the dog settled in his stomache. Hell and Damnation! Looking for spies, dead, sick and highly "contagious" chimps, and now Kerchak was on his tail as well. One thing after another he thought. Well, can't do much about the spies or Kerchak, 'least 'till he shows his hand. Wouldn't want to be the instigator in that tango. They'd slap me in the big house even if a pre-emptive strike was the best way to go. Better find out a little more about radiation sickness.

With that thought he headed for the University. maybe some student would be hanging around that he could harrangue on the side without drawing too much attention.

By the time Chongo got to the University it was early evening. He wasn't worried about finding someone working late. People interested in the latest theoretical applications of science weren't the most likely to have a date much less a life. Sure enough there were lights on in the lab building. Chongo took the roof route and in seconds was down in the bowels of the building. The corridors of the science department smelled of dissinfectant and stale chemical experiments. Chongo suddenly understood why most of the progress made in these fields was made by humans. With a sharper sense of smell no chimp on earth would want to be around the building much less the experiments. The stringent white painted walls with the pale brown patterned floor were also enough to make a gorilla gag and were hurting his eyes. Chongo passed one lab after another looking for a female professor or student. He'd found that the female of the species was much more curious and although perhaps repulsed by the appearance of an ape, was a little attracted as well. They were much less likely to be jealously hording their knowledge than the males and less likely to yell for security.

Chongo found one in nearly the last lab. He eyed her speculatively through the wire impregnated windows. Small and demure, curly hair where straight blonde tresses were currently the rage. glasses and sensible shoes were the only personal clothing items he could see as all else was covered by her lab coat. Chongo took a deep breath (instantly regretting it from his smarting sinuses) and entered the room, loud enough to attract her attention but not enough so that anyone else would hear.

---

20 Jan 04 - 03:08 PM (#1097352)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos

Chongo was amazed. Here he'd made enough noise to wake the dead and still she was bent over her work ignoring him completely. Well, he considered and grinned, don't know what else I expected.

Chongo cleared his throat and said, "excuse me?"
"Can I help you," the student replied, still leaning over her lab table and ignoring him.
"I hope so," Chongo said, "I'm a freshman researching the effects of radiation on living organisms. I know I should start in the library but I figured an upperclassman might give me a few titles that I could start with. Sort of narrow down the list a little."
"Well, I could give you a few names but I think you would probably do better to look at the photographs down in the medical section, she replied. "They had an excellent essay done a few years ago with a test subject exposed to too many x-rays."
"Thanks! Thanks alot! That's just what I need! Chongo said as he headed for the door.
"Your'e quite welcome Mr. ...." the student said standing up and turning around just intime to see Chongos hand swing the door shut behind him.

Chongo went to the hall directory and quickly found his way to the medical lab. The hallway was dark and silent. "Medical students," he thought, "always too busy partying to put in extra hours." Chongo had to jimmy the door with his lock picks but gained entry quickly. If the science hall had been abd this room was ten times worse. Chongo detected at least three different corpses by smell alone and various other bodily parts and speciments in formaldehyde. Chongo made his way across the darkened room by the starlight coming through the windows to the bookcase on the far wall. He pulled his flashlight out of is pocket and began looking through the case studies. He found it quickly and drew it over to the windows where a little extra starlight would help him see.

It was all there in horrifying color. The lab animal in the test had been overexposed. Picture by picture, frame by frame, the study documented the grusome death from radiation poisoning. The hair and teeth falling out, blindness and pain, the grizzly scaring and open wounds that wouldn't heal. The hotdog tried to make a return trip but Chongo held it down. "Got to stop this!" he thought as he put the study back. Well, at least I have the info to tell Drecker now," he thought grimly.

---

21 Jan 04 - 04:32 PM (#1098166)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Editor's note: Hello, fellow writers! It seems that Rapaire, who started off this new edition of Chongo Chimp, is busy for the next week with moving. This will necessarily limit his available time for input into the story. Not a problem, because there's no time limit on when we have to finish it, but keep it in mind. Rapaire is providing much of the expertise on the Manhattan Project. We'll all do the best we can in the meantime...

- LH

---

21 Jan 04 - 05:03 PM (#1098195)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos

I want to apologize for the misspellings in my last few posts. I have to move fast before someone offs my characters or does something else and sometimes I don't use the spell checker like I should. Last time someone gave Drecker a wife and kids when I was about to write in a bit about him and Chongo going to Bali when the adventure was over. I figured two hard bit characters like them wouldn't be able to hold onto a wife. One of the hazards of the business.
Good story so far!
Don't be afraid to use Drecker where necessary. Just remember that he is trying to keep up appearances of a gruff policeman dealing with a lowlife private dick. They're really chums but appearances matter.

---

21 Jan 04 - 06:03 PM (#1098235)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Nobody is going to "off" Drecker. He's in these stories forever. I'm the creator of Chongo, and I guarantee it. I have already advised our writers not to kill other people's characters off without getting their permission first. I had to lay down the law after people started blowing everybody away in 3 pages or less in the first story... :-)

I can see Drecker having a wife and family...or not...it works either way. Too bad the Bali trip didn't work out though!

- LH

---

21 Jan 04 - 10:45 PM (#1098448)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos

Chongo was dead tired by the time he got back to his office. More than that he was hungry! Chicago hotdogs might be the best but they don't last forever especially after completing the roof circuit. Chongo checked his office door carefully before opening it. No need to get careless. No wires, no problems, this time. He crossed the office to his "new" old mahogany desk. Chongo had picked it up at an estate sale. New was in and no-one wanted such a mahogany monster anymore, no-one except Chongo who was a little tired of being shot at and blown up. The mahogany was heavy and solid, bullet proof and with a little bit of plate steel and some screws it was a decent bomb shelter. Chongo hoped fervently that he never actually needed it. He felt the heavily padded leather chair and longed to sink into it. If it hadn't been for his stomache talking to him he would have probably would have, greatfully and awoken in it the next morning. "It wouldn't be the first time," he thought.

Instead Chongo crossed to the kitchen and peered into the ice box. Damn! Empty again! "Honestly!" he thought, "I've got the bread to buy the cabbage, now if I'd only taken the time!" Slamming the door he turned away towards the bathroom. "Gotta freshen up if I'm gonna go out and not attract attention." Feeling a little better Chongo put on his overcoat and hat checked the load in his .45 and turned out into the night

A few blocks down the street was a late night diner where he knew he wouldn't have to worry about trouble. Jackie, the waitress, might not be pretty, but she could deal with a drunk gorilla in a heartbeat. She was a kindred spirit although Chongo hadn't worked up the nerve to ask where those bulging biceps had been and what they'd been doing before she found work at the diner. Chongo sat down and ordered a cup of coffee and a ham on rye with chips, dill slice on the side. Jackie brought the coffee while he waited for the rest to arrive and began cleaning glasses. Chongo wasn't actually used to brightly lit, clean places. "Ah, the life I've chosen," he thought darkly. His sandwich and chips arrived while he was still studying the diner. As Chongo reached down to get his first bite he heard the door to the diner open, the little bell ringing cheerily. The next thing he knew he had bluesuits on wither side of him.

There was a hand on his arm as he reached into his coat for his .45. It took him a moment to identify the first man although the second remained unknown to him. Jackie shot a glance at Chongo, but Chongo waved her off.
"Evening, Dickie," Chongo said, "who let you out of your cage?"
"Smart mouth, chump. Too bad you ain't got the brains to keep it shut."
"Now, now Dickie, I thought we were friends, all in this together like," Chongo said, nonplussed. Dickie's face turned beet red. "Friends with a damn dirty ape like you?!" "Not likely and don't you ever say that again!"
"Well, if you ain't here to join me for dinner, what are you here for?"
"I just wanted to let you know that you can forget this case, furball. I finally got the job that shoulda been mine in the first place and Me and my boys are gonna put it to rest. Not you or any other primate! I twas a good thing theat the man couldn't tell emotions in a chimp's eyes or he'd have run shouting Bundalo! at the top of his voice. He didn't even know what kind of thin ice he was on. Chogno was tired of this treatment and come the day he was going to set things straight with this man personally. Chongo took a deep breath and said, "What about your boss? He already has me on a pretty good retainer."
"Just give it to me," Dickie smirked, "I'll tell him you reconsidered and put the money back in Uncle Sam's bank where it belongs."
"Not likely," Chongo parroted back at him, "One, I know too much already, you're not likely to let me stay free with that knowledge. And two, I don't back down. That's why your boss came to me in the first place. So if you'd kindly remove yourself from my sight before Jackie back there decides I need some help from her friend Mr. Thomson, I'd like to finish my dinner."
Both men visibly paled as they heard the bolt lock home and began moving as Jackie came out from the kitchen with the gun levelled at them.
"You've been warned hairball!" Dickie said over his shoulder as he reached for the door, "I promise you're going to regret this!"

Jackie put the gun on a shelf below the counter and went back to cleaning drinking glasses. Chongo finished his sandwich and coffee at a leisurley pace. Jackie found a sawbuck on the counter after he left. Jackie smiled and stuffed it into the top of her blouse. She enjoyed the weight and heft of the sub-maching gun and loved the stacatto rhythm when she got to use it, but good tips were always welcome.

---

21 Jan 04 - 11:33 PM (#1098484)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Oh...yeah! Love it. You bin readin' your private eye stuff, Chief...

We have just gotta get Dickie and Kerchak together some day...they got so much in common, those two, and they would just hate each other.

Oh...when apes are alarmed they yell "Kree-gah!" It means "Look out!", "Danger!", "Beware!", "Heads up!" and so on. "Bundolo!" means "Kill!", "Maim!", "Destroy!", or "I'm gonna kill you!"

"Gom!" means "Run!" Therefore..."Kree-gah! Gom! Gom!" basically means "Holy shit! Let's get outta here!" Gom is pronounced like Rome.


- LH

---

22 Jan 04 - 01:37 AM (#1098538)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Otto was in a good mood. A rare treat. He had been to visit Ursula again last night and things must have gone well, thought Brehmer wryly. Otto was always in a good mood when things went well with Ursula. Funny how in spite of all the big important things one was supposed to have one's mind on...like fighting and winning a war...people's creature comforts still ruled them. Food and drink, shelter and sex...give a man enough of those and he was liable to remain quite reasonable. Deprive him of any one of them and he became thoroughly hard to live with...or work with.

Otto's good mood meant things would ease up a bit now for Brehmer, Martin, and Bruno, and that was good.

Brehmer had seen Ursula in the office a few times, though they had hardly spoken, and he had noticed her sizing him up from a distance. She had looked at him like a large hound contemplating its next meal. She must think he was the big war hero. This could be problematical if they ever found themselves alone together, because Otto regarded Ursula as his personal territory (whatever she thought about it), and the last thing Brehmer wanted to do was alienate the one man who could sanction and properly arrange his return to Germany. It was a very frustrating situation. He needed Otto, and he owed him, but Otto just wouldn't let him go. No...best stay away from Ursula altogether. That was the best policy. Brehmer didn't like her very much anyway.

There was someone else he did like. The girl at the bakery. They had spoken several times and he had the feeling she liked him as well. Brehmer was getting very lonely stuck in this huge American city where he knew no one except a few German agents.

Accordingly, he was pleased when Otto asked him to go out and get some food, and he went off whistling merrily.

Bruno raised an eyebrow to see that. "Well, well. The lad's somber mood has passed. Excellent! I was afraid we'd have either a duel or a suicide here if he got any grimmer," he joked. "What could it be that's got him perked up?"

"He must still be overjoyed that your horse won," quipped Martin, who was busily studying photographs of American aircraft production lines...long lines of P-38 Lightnings and B-17 Flying Fortresses. They looked like damned good airplanes to Martin. Brehmer had not had a chance to take on these high tech birds back in 1940.

"You think so...?" puzzled Bruno. Bruno was not the brightest light in Chicago, thought Martin, but he was still a good man when action was called for. And that could be any day now.

As for Brehmer, he'd not had sex or anything remotely like it in a very long time. So long that it had begun to assume a sort of mythical place in his cosmos. He had concentrated instead on keeping himself in peak condition, as a fighter pilot must, and he kept up a daily regimen of calisthenics and long walks when he could get away from his duties. Otto had a way of always finding one more thing for Brehmer to do, mostly office work of an utterly tedious nature, sifting through papers, endless papers...all of which proved in no uncertain terms that the USA was an industrial giant second to none. Far too many airplanes were rolling off those assemby lines to comfort Brehmer. Some of his old squadron mates might well be meeting them soon in the increasingly embattled skies over Western Europe. Apparently they were shipping hundreds of them to Russia as well, and the news from Stalingrad sounded worse every day. Troubled times.

But all these thoughts vanished from Brehmer's mind when he walked through the bakery door and saw Kathryn smiling at him. (He knew her name from the tag she wore on her blouse.) She was like a breath of fresh air. He blushed a bit, said "Hello, Kathryn," and tried to look busy examining the rolls and pastries.

"Hello yourself," she replied brightly. "Can I help you find anything? We have the most delicious cheesecake today. You should try it."

"Oh. Cheesecake is it? Well...yes. We could use some of that."

"Why not sit down and have a piece now with a cup of coffee?" She gestured toward the small tables at the front of the store. "I've seen you walking sooo briskly back and forth, and it's my opinion you could use a break now and then. How about it?"

"Well...yes. Why not? I will. Thank you." Brehmer walked over to the tables with his hands full of rolls and nearly fell over a chair while smiling back at her. "Idiot!" he thought, "I'm such an idiot!"
He sat down and tried to recover his aplomb. One roll had fallen on the floor. He wondered if he should pick it up or...

"Oh, I'll take care of that," she said, laughing merrily, and she scooped it up and deposited it in a wastebasket. "Not to worry," she said, as he began to apologize. "Really, it doesn't matter at all." Brehmer watched her in a state of wonder. She really was the most beautiful thing he thought he had ever seen. Very dark Auburn hair and grey-blue eyes and just a few freckles. A classic Irish girl of a certain type, very sweet and respectable. Not like Ursula. Ursula was bloody dangerous. This girl was the antithesis of danger. Why then was he afraid of her?

When she brought his coffee and cake she asked if she could join him. He was surprised and at the same time delighted.

"It's my break. I've got 15 minutes...or maybe a bit more if no customers come in. It's been slow today."

"Well, I'm glad of that, Kathryn. Really I am."

"You know," she said, smiling at him roguishly, "you have me at a disadvantage."

"I do?" blurted Brehmer. He was quite at a loss.

"I don't know your name," she said with a giggle. "Whereas you do know mine."

"Oh, of course! I do apologize! I am Jur...uh...I am Wally Krupinski. And you are Kathryn..."

"Kathryn McConnell," she replied. "Krupinski...that must be Russian or..."

"Polish," said Brehmer. "Well, Polish-American, really. And you are Irish, of course..."

"Part Irish. My mother is Italian, from the old country. My father is second generation. His parents came over on a boat from Ireland back in the 1800's. They landed in New York, then eventually came out to Ohio."

"That must have been quite an adventure," said Brehmer.

"It certainly was," agreed Kathryn. "There was great prejudice against the Irish at that time in America. So many were crossing over." (A bit like that with the apes and monkeys now, thought Brehmer, but he said nothing.)

For the next few minutes Brehmer sat spellbound as Kathryn told him all about her family, her own growing up in Chicago, her neighborhood and friends. He was getting a glimpse into another world, a world that seemed remarkably homelike and peaceful, a world that had little or nothing to do with the war that had brought him here.

"And what do you do?" she asked after a bit. "Besides keeping very, very fit," she added, eyes twinkling.

"I work for a jewelry engraver," said Brehmer. He had to say something. "It is machine jewelry engraving. Really quite simple. It's a temporary port in a storm."

"And what would you like to do?"

"I...I would very much like to fly," said Brehmer. It was the truth, but not in the way she would take it.

"Oh, so would I," she said enthusiastically. "Wouldn't it be wonderful. Oh, but look at the time...I have to get back behind the counter now, I'm afraid. It's been lovely talking to you, Wally. We must do it again."

"Yes," he said, getting up and giving a slight formal bow. I should like that. In fact..." he took a deep breath. "I wonder if you would do me the honour of going out to...a show, as they say?"

"Why...I'd be delighted! How about on Sunday? Is Sunday good for you?"

"Sunday is perfect for me," said Brehmer. It damned well better be. No matter what Otto had in mind. "Shall I meet you here...at..."

"Two O'Clock," she said. "Meet me at the front door at two O'Clock."

"Absolutely," said Brehmer. "Two O'Clock sharp. Sunday."

He went to the counter and paid for his cake and coffee, mumbled a few more things which he couldn't remember afterward, and left walking on clouds. At least 10,000 meters high, that's what it felt like.

Kathryn watched him go. The other girl, Norma, observed her closely. "Good lookin', isn't he?" she commented.

"I think he's the most beautiful thing I ever saw in my whole life," said Kathryn, very quietly.

Norma shook her head and grinned. "Girl, you've got it bad. If it don't work out, at least give me his phone number after you get over it."

Brehmer was three blocks away when he realized that he still had not bought any food to take back. He plunged into the nearest store, bought a general assortment of whatever looked half reasonable and headed for the office, double-time.

* * * * *

---

22 Jan 04 - 09:37 AM (#1098669)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos

Robbie the Robot says: "Danger Will Robinson! Plot Complication imminent! Danger!"

LOL!

---

22 Jan 04 - 09:18 PM (#1099249)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Leadfingers

More More More I got to have my Chongo fix on a regular basis!

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22 Jan 04 - 10:28 PM (#1099295)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Well, it's nice to know someone is out there enjoying it... :-) One wonders at times.

* * * * *

It felt good to be out of the damned Monkey House at last. Real good. Kerchak scowled darky from under his heavily projecting brow ridges as he contemplated the many horrible things he intended to do to Chongo when he got hold of him. He would destroy Chongo in every way simianly possible, but first he would torture and humiliate him, subjecting him to grotesque indignities.

Fairness was not an item in Kerchak's personal philosophy. Getting even was. Not for a moment would it have occurred to him that his bopping Chongo on the head and then apeknapping him and then presenting him to the none so tender mercies of Big Daddy Malone the psychotic orangutan had given Chongo a perfectly valid reason for kicking Kerchak in the coconuts and then escaping. Not on your life. That had nothin' to do with it. Chongo had kicked Kerchak and he was gonna pay. Big time. Kerchak was gonna fit Chongo for a wooden kimono.

Kerchak had resumed his usual place among the North Side Gorillas, where he was considered useful for busting heads and shaking down poor saps for protection money. Mostly they were just little shopkeepers and bar owners, both human and simian. They were easy meat for Kerchak. He never failed to get the desired results. Right now though, business was pretty quiet and Kerchak had some spare time on his hands. He planned to use it putting Chongo on ice. Permanently. But it had to be done the right way.

"Gimme a drink, Solly," growled Kerchak. The howler scrambled to obey and had a drink ready within seconds. He didn't like the look in Kerchak's closeset little red eyes. Solly was a gopher, a sort of bellhop for the North Side Gorillas. He didn't get much respect, but the pay was not bad. And the problem was, you didn't leave the North Side Gorillas, except in a pine box. Solly had made his choice and he had to live with it now.

"You know what I'm gonna do to that lousy shamus, Solly?" said Kerchak, low and mean.

"Whaddya gonna do to him, Kerchak?" piped Solly nervously.

"I'm gonna grab hold of him with these mighty hands of mine!" Kerchak grabbed Solly by way of demonstration and shook him like a leaf. The howler emitted a strangled squeak.

"And then I'm gonna beat in his brainpan!" Kerchak waved a fist in front of the terrified howler.

"But then..." Kerchak paused dramatically.

"Wha...whaddya gonna do then, Kerchak," quavered Solly, with his eyes popping nearly out of his head.

Kerchak dropped Solly in a wooden chair, where he huddled shivering, and stood over him.

"I'll tell ya what I'm gonna do, Solly. I'm gonna tie him up and light matches under his little chimpy feet. I'm gonna burn off all his little chimpy hairs one by one. I'm gonna cut off his little chimpy ears...and then..."

"And then?" whispered Solly, staring up as if hypnotized.

"And then I'm gonna knock him off. I'm gonna pop da sucker. I'm bonna bop da jerk. I'm gonna rub him out. I'm gonna croak da little bastard. I'm gonna blip him off. I'm gonna pump metal t'rough and t'rough da little mango picker till ya can see daylight between his ribs wit yer eyes closed!"

That was putting it pretty plainly. Solly stayed very still and tried not to look at all like a chimpanzee.

Kerchak stood there, breathing heavily for a bit. Then he said, "Fix me anudder drink!"

Solly sprang out of his chair like a jack-in-the-box and began fixing another drink at amazing speed. Kerchak liked Banana Bangers, tall and strong. Solly was good at making them just to order.

"I guess maybe you wonder why I'm tellin' you all this," said Kerchak.

"Um, me? Wonder? Well, I...um.."

"I'm tellin' you all this, Solly, because YOU are gonna help me set Chongo up."

"I am?" said Solly, hesitantly. He put the new drink on Kerchak's table very gingerly.

"Yeah. Dat's right. First you find out what Chongo's up to dese days. He's prob'ly on a case. Or maybe he ain't, but he will be. Find out what case. See if you can feed him some useful information. I don't care what it is, just so's you find out what he's doin'. That gives me an in. Den we set him up and we set him up good. Can you do dat?"

"Oh yes!" piped Solly, feigning great enthusiasm. "Solly can do that for Mr Kerchak! Solly will find out what Chongo is doing and report back."

"Good," said Kerchak. "Dat's all I need ta hear. Now breeze off!"

Solly was gone in an instant. You couldn't see dust for that howler.

Kerchak finished off his second drink slowly, relishing it to the fullest. A couple of years in the monkey farm and you could really build up a taste for this sort of thing.

* * * * *

---

24 Jan 04 - 07:26 PM (#1100672)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos

Sveral days of searching and Chongo had gotten nowhere. At a hundred a day and little to show the General was bound to call it all off and then throw him in a holding cell for the duration of the war. And depending on how hard the power's that be might want to cover their little problem up, he might not see sunshine again. maybe it was time for a trip south, perhaps Bali. He'd heard some nice things about Bali. No...he wouldn't run, he wouldn't back down. As much as this was starting to aggravate him Chongo would see it through. He was just about to check out the inner lining of his eye lids when there was a knock on his office door. He was about to say "Come on in, it's open," when two of Chicago's finest came through the door with guns drawn and levelled at him.

"Chongo Chimp?" asked the taller of the two.
"Yeah, that's me," he replied
"You're under arrest!"
"On what charge, officer?" Chongo calmly replied.
"Who knows," said the other, "Drecker said to bring you in, so wer'e bringing you in!"
"I think you might have got the wrong message, boys," Chongo said al little amused.
His amusement didn't last long as the tall one circled behind him, pushed him forward on to the desk and slapped him in cuffs.
"Quiet you!, don't give us any trouble or you'll regret it," replied the shorter one.
With Chongo in cuffs the policemen frog marched him down the steps and into the squad car. If Chongo hadn't known to duck his head he'd have gotten a nasty knock to his brain as they shoved him in the car. The policemen burned rubber away from his office with lights blazing and siren wailing.
"This is gonna do alot for my reputation," Chongo thought.

Chongo was in a holding cell for twenty minutes before Drecker showed up to let him out. Chongo had actually been rather enjoying the show from the other cells where and old crook was teaching his fellow inmates all about picking pockets and looking innocent.
"Sorry Chongo", Drecker said as he dusted his friend off, I asked to have a couple of officers pick you up so I could talk to you without arousing suspicion from whoever might be around."
"No problem, I figured it was something like that. You might want to have a talk with those two about inter species relations. They aren't gonna make it far in a town like this if they treat all ape kind like that.
"I'll take care of it," Drecker said with a grim look on his face. "You'd think that they'd teach that at their fancy new academies wouldn't you? I got no love for some of our frequent guests but roughing up the apes is only going to make the whole community uncooperative and fearful. Not to mention earning you a "mising persons" report when one of the larger gorillas gets you alone."
"Speaking of academies," Chongo said, "did you know that your guests, to use your own words, is teaching the others all the tricks of his trade?"
"You don't say?" remarked Drecker, "learn anything new?"
"Not really," Chongo replied grinning, "but you just might want to put a stop to it."
"Nah," replied Drecker, "I think of it as job security."
"If the crooks are dumb then you don't need smart cops."

Drecker escorted Chongo to a quiet interview room and got the both of them a cup of coffee.
"I wanted to talk to you about the case you're working on Chongo," Drecker said offering Chongo a cigar."
Chongo accepted one of the havannas offered and lit up.
"Found something did ya?" Chongo asked as he blew a few smoke rings.
"Nothing in the morgues or the hospital, so maybe there's some hope yet." Drecker replied as he lit his own stogie.
"Well you sure didn't get me down here for that."
"No, not that anyway, but I have been informed of a few "missing" young apes from all over the area." It doesn't give us alot to go on. If it's somehow connected to what you're investigating, it means that the bad guys are smart enough to know not to shop for pigeons in just one area."
"You got the names with ya?" Chongo asked.
"Yeah, names and addresses right here for you," Drecker said taking an envelope out of his pocket and handing it to Chongo. "I'd check out the last one first," Drecker said. "The parents clammed up a little after the report was made. Something strange about that. I can't follow up on it much more than putting out the APB but I thought you'd be interested.
Thanks, Lance." Chongo said stuffing the envelope in his pocket. "Maybe you could do me one more favor before you let me walk outta here."
"What's that?" Drecker said getting up and crossing to the door.
"Get me bak my .45. I'm rather attached to it, lots of memories you know. Your boys decided it might be dangerous for me to hang on to in the cell."
"Ignoring the fact that you could have torn their arms off if you'd wanted to huh? Dumbshits!" muttered Drecker.

---

25 Jan 04 - 12:59 AM (#1100777)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos

Chongo left the precinct with as much haste as possible. Drecker had offered a ride home but he had driven the "banana" again. Chongo could understand his keeping it on the one hand but on the other it sure did garner alot of attention wherever Drecker drove it. Chongo needed to be a little more anonymous than that.

Chongo was about to call a taxi and head across town when he noticed the black sedan with the out of town tags with two men trying to remain inconspicuous behind upside down newspapers. "Gonna have to do better than that boys," he chuckled and headed into the corner store. A buck slipped to the stock boy and Chongo was up on the roof in a couple of seconds. He was satisfied to look down and see the G-men were still watching the front of the store. "No wonder they couldn't keep the chimps out," he thought. He crossed a few roofs, ran down a fire escape and entered the building through the third story back window. Despite the fact that he was trying to escape the attention of his own government, who should be his allies in this case, he was actually having fun. Chongo had picked this building in particular because there was a connecting steam tunnel running from it's basement two blocks east to a local taxi company. No phone calls to be traced, nobody to see him on the street, and for another buck or two, none of the drivers would admit to seeing him in the garage.

Chongo road in relative comfort laying down on the back seat with a blanket over him, just in case, for a couple of miles. the driver checked his mirrors and gave the Chongo the all clear. The ride across town was not eventful and soon he found himself in front of the rowhouse of the missing ape. "Thanks Mac," he said to the driver, handing him a ten for a three dollar ride, "I wonder how long those boys will wait in front of that store before they realize they've been had.
The driver started making change but CHongo told him to keep it.
"Sure thing son," the driver said stuffing it into his shirt pocket.
"For that kind of tip I'll go back and tell them I just took you to the west side if you want."
"They might even pay you for the info," Chongo grinned.
"Naw Mac, they're confused enough as it is. Let 'em rest there for awhile. They probably need their beauty rest.
The driver grinned and drove off waving to Chongo as he made his way down the street.
Chongo waited a few minutes until he was out of sight and then walked a few blocks to his real destination. "Can't be too careful," he thought with a sigh.

He looked at the address in his hand and then up at the dingy letters over the front door. A little run down row house, but not too dingy, not for the district he was in. He climbed the steps and knocked on the door. He was thinking about what he was going to say, what he would ask when the door opened and he found himself face to face with Kerchak.

Chongo didn't even bother going for his gun. Kerchak could reach out and crush his head before his hand was could reach the .45 in his pocket. Strangely enough Kerchak made no move towards him and seemed a bit dazed as well. Chongo began backing away down the steps until he felt the business end of a thomson catch him in the back.
"Damnit, he thought, this guy must have been down by the stairs watching the street for Kerchak and I didn't even see him."
"You." Kerchak finally said, sounding rather tired.
"You want I should ventilate him boss?" the gorilla behind Chongo asked.
"No Nick, no, believe it or not after all the things I told you I was gonna do to him when I got ahold of him, I just might need him."
"Whatever you say boss," Nick replied keeping the barrel pressed into Chongo's back.
"Escort Mr. Chongo in and get back by the steps Nick," Kerchak said, turining and entering the house.
"Yeah boss," he replied and not too gently pushed Chongo with the thomson.
Chongo could have fainted from the confusion he was feeling. First he runs into Kerchak and then Kerchak doesn't kill him out right, and finally Kerchak says he might actually need him alive.
Nick escorted him to a side room that Kerchak had already entered. Kerchak was pouring himself a drink from a small sideboy. Nick pushed Chongo toward a a chair and then turned and left the room.

"Can I pour you a drink Chongo?" Kerchak asked, "got some real fine brandy here."
Chongo weakly nodded assent. Whatever was going on a good stiff drink couldn't make it worse.
Kerchak actually grinned at Chongo as he handed him his glass.
"Well well well, the mighty Chongo Chimp, private dick, at a loss for words. Never thought I'd see the day," Kerchak said, sitting himself in a chair across from Chongo. "Okay, since the cat seems to have your tongue I'll do the talking. First off you know I still hate your guts and would like nothing more than to crush you between my fingers right?" Chongo just nodded and took another sip. "Okay then, just so that's straight. I've been enjoying inventing new tortures just for you but for now I've gotta put that on the back burner. I got a call the other day about my niece being missing. I'm assuming that's why you're here?" Chongo nodded again and began feeling the warmth of the brandy penetrating his bones. Chongo, as much as I hate you, I love my niece. She's had me wrapped around her little finger from the day she was born. I know that's hard to believe coming from me but it's true. Guys like you and me, the life we live, dames for a casual fling are a dime a dozen but we're never gonna find someone willing to take on the rest of the baggage that comes with us.
"Why," Chongo asked, "I mean why did you choose this life in the first place if you figured that out, and by the way, no offense, but when did you get so smart?"
"Cammoflage, Chongo, cammoflage. If a gorillas' smart he's likely to have ambitions. If he's got ambitions then the bossman can't fully trust him. That gorilla will have enemies behind and a boss above him that would probably have a hit lined up for him if he gets too uppity. Acting stupid removes me from that situation. The boss thinks I'm blindly loyal. The other gang members think I'm too stupid to stop their ambitions. My only ambition is to get whats best for me. And being the boss is bad for your health, always gotta watch your back. I like what I'm doing and I like where I am, why screw it up?
As far as why I got into it in the first place. What choice did I have? Chongo when I got here from Africa there was already too many humans thinking we were just dumb brutes, fit for nothin' but heavy haul jobs. If I wanted a part of the so-called "American Dream" I had to grab it for myself, not work night and day for some slave driver in a sweat shop. Even if I'd been legit I wouldn't be much above just taking care of myself. If the humans hadn't been so damned blind and discriminating I might not be here. When my niece was born I swore that she'd have the best and not have to face the world that I did.
"Just when you think you've got a guy pegged," thought Chongo, "and now she's gone missing," he said out loud.
"Yeah, for a couple of days now, that's why you're here right?" Kerchak said.
"Yeah, that's why I'm here. I'm assuming you're why the parents stopped talking to the cops?"
"Yes, I don't think the humans really care about her anyway," Kerchak muttered.
"Well at least one does, guy by the name of Drecker, remember him? He's the one that put me onto this," Chongo said a little heatedly. Kerchak didn't need to know about the connection to the whole case.
"The flat foot that drives that banana caddy?" Yeah I remember him."
"Look Kerchak, you may not like me, and I'm not fond of you either, but I've never lied to you. This is bigger than your niece, alot bigger. There are quite a few othe missing kids, all of them primates. They were being used by some humans to lift some things and gather info. I can't tell you what but I'm trying to find them and hopefully find the kids too.
Kerchak eyed Chongo a little suspiciously, "You'll be looking for my niece then?" he asked.
"Yeah, I hope I find them alive, but Kerchak, I know you don't want to here this, but I wouldn't count on them being alive."
"What makes you say that, Chongo?"
"Again I can't tell you Kerchak, you'll just have to trust me on that."
Kerchak wilted a little. "Whoever these people are they'd best hope I never get my hands on them."
"I'll tell you what Kerchak, you and me got some bad history but I think we could both help each other out. There's too much territory for me to cover alone. If you could get some of your boys to help you look for all of the missing kids or anything unusual it would be a great help. I'll do my best to find these guys and when I do I'll give you a call and let you have first crack at them. What do you say to that Kerchak?"
"I'd say that's a bargain," Chongo, "truce?"
"Truce," Chongo said taking Kerchak's proffered hand.
Kerchack grinned again showing some pretty fierce canines, "just don't think that because we've got a truce between us that it means I wanna start showering with you or anything."
Chongo grinned in spite of himself.

---

26 Jan 04 - 11:57 PM (#1102226)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos

Chongo was busy preparing a status report for the General the next morning when the phone rang.
"Chongo? It's Drecker. Come on down to the station, I think we got something."
Chongo wasted no time getting down to the precinct house. Drecker hadn't sounded anything but tired which didn't bode too well for the kids.
Drecker met him out front of the precinct in an unmarked car
"what happened to your Caddy?" Chongo asked as Drecker pulled away from the precinct.
"She's in the garage. This is definitly one time I don't want to advertise what we've discovered."
"That bad?"
"Worse. A fisherman heading to his favorite spot on the lake came across a large patch of ground that had recently been disturbed. He figured that it would be easier to find some bait than have to dig through the hardened ground. Chongo, he found the kids."
Drecker said the last with barely a sigh.
"He made it to the hospital before he collapsed in shock."

It was a rather long drive in silence.

---

27 Jan 04 - 01:02 AM (#1102268)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: GUEST,Dewey

They strode up the wide stairs leading into Chicago General, hoping they weren't too late. As they pushed their way through the wide glass doors, a small kid, maybe a shoeshine boy, heading out through the same doors, slipped a small card into Chongo's hand and fled down to the street.

Chongo didn't slow in his stride for a moment. He glanced at the card.

Green print, pricey, linen, well-laid, embossed. "She will be back...." was all it said.

Chongo stuck it in his pocket, puzzled. But he had more important things to worry about at the moment. He followed Drecker into the elevator.

---

27 Jan 04 - 08:44 PM (#1103026)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Otto was in a lousy mood. That wasn't unusual. His nerves were getting badly frayed lately, specially after having to quickly dispose of some badly contaminated primates. It was clear from the bits of information that were trickling in from Ursula that Fermi's group was nearing some kind of major breakthrough on the top secret Manhattan Project, and something drastic had to be done about it very soon. It so happened that Ursula, in the persona of a cosmetics salesgirl named Betty Melnicki, had succeeded in seducing no less than five American servicemen and/or officials. One was involved with radar development, another in the production of Lockheed P-38 Lightnings, another with naval intelligence, and yet another with the allocation of K-rations, of all things, to the troops overseas. No moss grew under Ursula, thought Otto cynically. It never had time to.

But the most important thing was her fifth patsy. He was an MP connected in a peripheral way with security at Stagg Field. It was from hints "Betty" had gleaned from this fellow in his weaker moments that Otto knew for sure that the project was nearing a crucial juncture. The future of the world was at stake. Otto could feel it in his bones, and he intended not to be found wanting when the time for decisive action came...as it must by very early December. And it was now mid-November.

The other matter that really troubled Otto was Brehmer. His dark and rebellious mood had altered totally. He was now cheerful and upbeat and seemed to have at least temporarily forgotten about his usual obsession...returning at the first opportunity to his bloody fighter squadron, where he would probably get killed within a few weeks or months. The news from Russia was increasingly bleak, and the Luftwaffe was losing men and machines at an unprecedented rate as Goering tried to do the impossible and supply the entire trapped Sixth Army by air! The fat fool had guaranteed it to Hitler. Now he was trapped in a web of his own making, losing his precious airplanes by the hundreds and presiding over what was beginning to look like a catastrophe.

But back to Brehmer. What in the world was on his mind? What did he have to be so cheerful about anyway? He had gone out to see an American movie on Sunday...a rare treat...a musical of some kind.   Otto didn't mind, because he figured Brehmer needed a break and would perform his duties more efficiently afterward. He wasn't the kind to get drunk to let off steam...like Bruno...nor did he lose himself in novels, like Martin. Martin was presently reading "The Grapes of Wrath" and enjoying it immensely. The man was becoming a real Americanophile. Matter of fact, Brehmer was too, it seemed. He and Martin were having long conversations now about the lot of migrant workers and the oppressed farmers and such...they were starting to sound like a pair of bloody communists! On the other hand, the Fuhrer had championed the rights of the "little people" on his way up too, thought Otto, but that was different. These American radicals had little or no respect for authority. They were vulgar and anarchistic, and their language was atrocious.

Otto had quizzed Brehmer thoroughly, and gotten nothing out of him whatsoever other than that he liked to take "long walks". The man was unquestionably a fitness freak, but one didn't get this cheerful by taking long walks. No indeed. Brehmer was hiding something.

And then there was the other incredible thing. Brehmer had quit smoking. Just like that. It had happened the day after his movie outing. Everyone was lighting up, and Brehmer didn't join them. He just sat there, going through his airplane magazines and humming a little tune to himself. Eventually Martin had offered him a Camel..."Say, Brehmer, try one of these and see what you think..."

"No thanks," Brehmer had said. "I've decided not to smoke anymore."

"What???" said Martin, and they all looked at the boy with disbelief. "Why would you do that?"

"Well..." said Brehmer, appearing to think it over carefully, "I just don't like it that much anymore. Besides, it is liable to weaken the lungs over time, and a pilot needs to stay at the top of his form. You need good lungs when you're pulling a few 'G's or you'll black out."

"What the hell?" exclaimed Bruno. "And when do you expect to be pulling 'G's? And what about your big hero, Adolf Galland? He smokes like a chimney. He even smokes his expensive cigars in the cockpit of his 109 for Christ's sake! And you say he's the best pilot on the Western Front."

"So he is," replied Brehmer evenly. "Galland is Galland. The one and only. He can smoke till hell freezes over if he wants to and it's no concern of mine. I am not Adolf Galland, I am Jurgen Brehmer and I have decided not to smoke. Period. Just wait and see," he went on, grinning, "You, Bruno, are going to spend every last dollar or deutschmark you ever get on whores, cigarettes, and cheap liquor and you will finally end up with nothing. I on the other hand will save my money, and when this war ends I'll buy a nice little house and start up a flying school in Schaffhausen."

Martin laughed. He was enjoying the new Brehmer's sense of humor. The fellow was a true oddball. Martin liked oddballs, they kept life interesting.

"Ach!" snorted bruno in disgust. "You're a bloody health nut, that's all. You lost your wits in 1940 due to breathing too little oxygen at 15,000 meters, and there's nothing to be done about it. To hell with you then. Don't smoke. See if I care."

Otto, peering sharply over his spectacles, had observed all of it, but had said nothing. It was very peculiar, and he meant to get to the bottom of it as soon as possible. He would have Ursula find out what was going on with Brehmer. Ursula was good at finding out things. She would unlock Brehmer's little secret in jig time. And then Otto would know what to do about it.

- LH

---

27 Jan 04 - 08:51 PM (#1103028)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos

Chongo held his breath as much as possible through the interview with the old man. When he did breath it was totally through his mouth although that didn't stop the smell from permeating into his nostrils. To him hospitals were worse than Chem labs with all the disinfectant and other wonderful odors to be had.

The questioning had been a little rough on Drecker and Chongo due to the fact that the old man had been tranquilized. Chongo also had to phrase the questions in such a way as to avoid giving away the ball game to the doctors and nurses buzzing about the area. Drecker might not know the effects of radiation poisoning but they certainly would. Chongo wished he could speed things up. Chongo was pretty certain that the old man had not receive a significant dose of radiation, but to be on the safe side he intended to inform the general when he made his next report. If the old man had been heavily dosed Chongo hoped they could do something for him.

Drecker got directions to the spot and radioed in for a unit to secure the area until they got there. Chongo wished he could think of something to discuss with Drecker. The silence was disturbing to him but nothing was appropriate. There might as well have been a rain cloud in the car with them.


Otto was on his way back to the cabin after another afternoon spent with Ursula . She was definitely a dangerous femme fatale and he was enjoying every minute with her. AS he rounded the bend his eyes widened to dinner plates when he saw the two police cars on the side of the road about a half-mile or so from where he'd buried the bodies of the primates they'd used. He'd not wanted to bury them so close but with no help and fearing contamination he'd done the best he could. The grave had been wide and shallow. He wished now that he'd had more time to camouflage the sight but it was too late now. The alarm bells were going off in his head and he knew it was time to clean the cabin and move to a new safe house. Otto had already selected several other sites throughout Chicago, they'd be okay for a while.   Unfortunately this would jeopardize the mission. Once the police figured out that the chimps had either died from or been suffering severe radiation poisoning and not the bullet to the back of the head that he'd had to administer to the few still breathing the American security forces would tighten so much that he doubted they'd be able to fart without it shrieking like an opera singer being chased by a mouse.

Otto reached the cabin and didn't bother to stop the engine of the car. He, Bruno and Martin         thoroughly cleaned out the cabin as well as they could and hit the road quickly. Brehmer had gone into town to see his American girlfriend. It pissed Otto off but they needed the pilot desperately. Things might not have hit the frying pan officially between the Americans and Germany but most Americans would not be willing to work for three foreigners in a job that threatened their own country. Help was at a premium.

As soon as they reached the edge of town they headed for the small store that Brehmer did most of his shopping in so as to maximize his time with Katherine. Brehmer was there still chatting her up as they pulled up to the curb. Otto left Martin in the car and headed in to collect Brehmer. As soon as Katherine saw Otto approaching she left the counter to do some chores around the store, leaving them in semi-privacy to talk.


"Wally come on, we have to go!" Otto said through his teeth.
"What's the matter?", you look like you've seen a ghost.
"They're onto us! We have to get out of here and head for the safe house on the old wharfs."
"I don't mean to argue with you but what could they have found to scare you so?" Brehmer asked him.
"They found the dead apes!" Otto replied.
From behind them came the crash of ceramic plates on the floor. Brehmer looked across the shelves into the very frightened and confused face of Katherine. He might have been able to convince her that she had misheard Otto, but Otto was suddenly so furious that he broke down into German. "Got En Himmel!" Otto shouted waving his arms, "why has this got to be so damned difficult?" He then drew his luger and pointed it at Katherine.
"Alright Fraulein, you've heard too much. I hope you really like lover boy here because you're coming with us."
Brehmer made as if to protest but Otto gave him a look that froze his blood. At least Katherine would be safe with him around which was much better than dead on the storeroom floor. Brehmer took her by the hand firmly and led her out to the car. As he climbed in beside her he whispered "Katherine, I'm so sorry!"

---

27 Jan 04 - 09:04 PM (#1103042)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Hmmm...well, I guess we can make a quick plot adjustment here, since we cross-posted. The action's heating up faster than expected.

Okay...let's assume:

1. A short time had passed, during which:

2. Ursula uncovered Brehmer's situation with Katherine and reported back to Otto. He was not pleased one bit, but decided to put up with it because Brehmer was not to be moved on the matter. Ursula was not too pleased either. She'd rather Brehmer was interested in her.

3. Brehmer and Kathryn have become lovers (it was inevitable and relationships form fast in wartime).

4. Yes, Otto and the others do need Brehmer desperately. He's very capable...and he knows how to fly an airplane. Probably any airplane. That could prove crucial if things go badly awry...as they most likely will.

And that pretty well sums it up. We're all off to the safe house, which is going to be anything but safe...for a variety of reasons.

- LH

---

27 Jan 04 - 09:10 PM (#1103047)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Editor's note: Quick note: It's mid-November/42. Things HAVE hit the frying pan officially between Germany and the USA since back in December/41, almost a year ago. That's when Hitler declared war on the USA (an idiotic thing to do...if he hadn't it might have taken Roosevelt a few more months to convince Congress to start fighting Germany as well as Japan).

Other than that, we're okay, I think. Carry on, chaps! Kreegah!

---

27 Jan 04 - 10:27 PM (#1103085)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos

When Chongo and Drecker arrived on scene Chongo could have sworn a blue streak. "Here we go again!" he thought, "it was bad enough having those two rookie cops die on my last case, now they've turned this into a damned circus!" Drecker apparently was thinking along the same lines.
"Dammit, Dammit, Dammit!" Drecker swore. They've probably scared off the suspects by now!"

He and Chongo walked sullenly through the woods to the grave site. A team of policeman had already begun exhuming the bodies and laying them beside the grave. The sight was more than enough to make Chongo sick. The pictures in the medical report were nothing compared to what lay before him. Chongo turned away from the small bodies by the grave. Looking towards Drecker he spied a tear on Drecker's cheek. Nothing needed to be said.

Chongo walked back to the car alone with his thoughts. Revulsion and anger mixed with sadness and a sense of hopelessness. By God almighty he was going to find the spies responsible and make them pay. Drecker arrived at the car a few minutes after Chongo. His eyes were red and his cheeks were puffy. He sniffed and snuffled into his handkerchief. "Damn sinuses," he said. Chongo allowed him his dignity.
"Chongo, I've got to go back to my office. I'm out of my jurisdiction here. Any of the officers here will give you a lift back. They've also found a cabin about a mile further down the road that's been recently abandoned. I figure that's where our suspects were before the clown parade arrived here.
"Thanks Lance, but before you go I need to tell you what your boys are dealing with. Those kids didn't die from those gunshot wounds. The lack of hair and teeth and those open wounds weren't from decay. That's radiation poisoning. Your boys are going to have to be monitored and the bodies of the kids will have to be cremated to prevent further contamination."
Drecker's eyes showed the shock he felt at those words. He knew about radiation from all the science fiction magazines he'd consumed as a kid and he'd heard some vague rumors that something strange was going on in town but he'd mostly discounted them.
"I can't tell you what or where but that part is going to get out if any of your boys get sick and I've seen too much of that."
"Thanks Chongo. I'll make sure they get properly taken care of."

Out of pure habit Chongo returned to the grave site and began looking for a trail back to the cabin. It didn't take him a lot of time to find the track, he'd been hunting prey long before most of these policemen had been walking a beat and it was probably more obvious to him than it would ever be to any human. He was at the cabin in about fifteen minutes. As he'd expected when he set out the cabin was clean. The only thing that he was really able to deduce was that there had been at least four humans there at one time, mostly by sent, but also by the different sets of footprints around the site. He was so intent on looking for clues that he didn't hear the man sneaking up behind him.

"Dicky" subdued Chongo quickly and tied him to a sturdy arm chair.
"I told you you'd regret messing with me hairball!" Dicky smirked at Chongo.
"Now you're going to pay for humiliating me in that diner. Oh, and in case you're thinking that the cops are just a holler away, I already sent them packing."
Dicky pulled in jar out of his pocket. "Know what this is asshole? This is a container of low grade uranium. Not lethal while it's in its container and pretty innocuous in small exposures but that's not what's going to happen to you. Oh, no! You're going to get exposed but good!. Chongo was getting good and angry and was already working at breaking the ropes that held him fast.
"I see that finally wiped the smirk off your ugly mug! I'm going to leave you here with this little container and come back some time tomorrow. You ought to be good and dead by then!"
Chongo stalled for time while he worked at his bonds. Dicky had unfortunately done a very good job.
"Must have been a damn boy scout," Chongo thought bitterly. Out loud he said, "how'd you find out about this?" Let the enemy reveal his plot to you, they do it every time instead of paying attention to what you're doing.
"We've had your phone tapped since day one and you never knew it? And you call yourself a detective! When that flatfoot called you we waited for you to show up and tailed you to the hospital and then here. I told Graves that I should have been in charge. You're too damn sloppy."
Chongo was starting to get a minor amount of slack. "Unfortunately by the time I get these ropes untied I'll be a crispy critter. Momma didn't raise me to die like this!" Chongo thought and redoubled his efforts.
"After you're dead I'm gonna take your body to him in a lead lined sack and tell him we found you that way in your office. Damn stupid Chimp! I'm gonna say. Found some evidence and instead of handing it over he decided to keep it for himself. Yeah, curiosity killed the chimp! I'll get the spies sooner or later and then I'll get the recognition I deserve. You know chump, it's just to bad that liberal pantywaist Roosevelt has decided to side with the damn frogs and limeys. The nazis got a pretty good idea wasting your kind. If it wasn't for him I'd be right by their side!

Dicky was laughing for a moment until he saw the shadow rising up behind him. He turned just as Kerchak's fist caught him on the side of the head, sending him tumbling across the floor.
"Kerchak! I never thought I'd say this but boy am I glad to see you. Think you could come over here and untie me?"
Kerchak reached over and snapped the ropes holding Chongo to the chair. Chongo was impressed with the apes strength but he wasn't about to show it.
"Couldn't let him do you," Kerchak said, "spoil my fun when this is all over. Couldn't let that bastard do a fellow primate either for that matter."
Chongo chaffed his wrists and went over to check on Dicky.
"Is he dead Chongo?"
"No, you must be losing your touch, Kerchak"
"More like his head is so hard that nothing could hurt him," Kerchak said spitting on the floor "we already know that he's got a really stiff neck. How do bastards like him get in power?"
"They kiss ass and stab people in the back until they get there. Good thing they can't keep the charade up once they hit the limelight. You heard everything he said?"
"Yeah, shit Chongo, you're playing with folks more dangerous than me on this one. Nazis?"
"At least four of them from what I can tell. I'd appreciate it if you'd keep it under your hat though. This whole deal is rather sensitive."
"No problem there. I don't like humans in general but Nazis are worse than anything on this side of the pond, well, with the exception of your friend there. What do you want to do with him? You want to leave him here with the uranium like he was going to do you?"
"No, Kerchak," Chongo sighed, "the hate has got to stop somewhere. But I do need to get him out of my hair until this is over. I'm tired of him dogging me and he really needs to be taught a lesson."
Kerchak began grinning madly. "Leave it to me Chongo, I think I've got just the thing."


Dicky woke in a strange bed in a strange room that was softly lit and decorated with lace and flower prints. The smell of perfume lingered in the bed and the air. He couldn't remember anything after tying Chongo to the chair. It must have gone well he decided.
"I must have decided to tie one on and get a girl for the night," he thought, "oh but what a hangover! My head is killing me!"
Dicky rolled over to see if he could find a clock. Wouldn't want to be late getting back to the lab. He needed to retrieve the body and make his report to the general. The bed springs squeaked loudly under his weight.
"You awake big boy?" came a sexy voice from what he assumed was a bathroom. "That was quite a ride last night! I hope you got something left for Momma this morning!"
Dickie grinned and lay back on the bed. "To hell with the lab today," he thought,"I'll make up some excuse when I get back."
He closed his eyes and relaxed awaiting the girl's return to the bed.
"I thought you were awake, lover" came the voice now right next to him.
Dicky opened his eyes and found himself face to face with a 700 pound female gorilla in gold silk lingerie. He went from pure contentment to rage and loathing faster than his little mind could comprehend. Dicky flew at her in a rage but she was waiting for him. Kerchak had warned her he might react that way. If it were Kerchak himself she might think of it as foreplay but coming from a human her mind began screaming Bundalo!" Maisy held back her instincts and cold cocked Dicky with her fist to the side of his head that Kerchak hadn't pounded in the previous night.

Dicky awoke in the brig. The guards wouldn't even talk to him, not even look at him. Dicky knew he was finished.

---

29 Jan 04 - 12:46 AM (#1104006)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Ursula sat filing her nails and examined the girl, Kathryn, with considerable interest. So this was the one who had put Brehmer on cloud nine? Ursula had discreetly followed Brehmer and quickly discovered where he was spending most of his off time. He was either at the store, out with Kathryn or sequestered in her apartment with the drapes drawn. And the two of them were glowing in the most obvious way. "Puppy love" she thought to herself, sarcastically. "They're both barely wet behind the ears and they think they've found a paradise on Earth together."

That had been three days ago, and she had quickly passed the news on to Otto, who had had a fit about it. Otto had promptly summoned Brehmer into his office upon his return from "shopping" and given him a severe tongue-lashing for his poor judgement. What if the girl was an American agent? Even if she wasn't it was a bloody stupid thing to do. Why couldn't Brehmer just find a prostitute now and then to satisfy his appetites?

Otto wasn't absolutely sure, but he felt fairly certain that Brehmer had almost punched him in the nose when he said that. A look had come into the young pilot's eyes that said, "One more word along that line and I will break you in two..." It was such a look that it had given even Otto pause, so he backed off a little. He tried reminding Brehmer of the need for security. Brehmer insisted that the girl knew nothing and was no risk, and that in any case he would not stop seeing her and that was that. Then he walked out.

Things had been damn tense after that. Otto would have had Brehmer arrested and shot if they were in Europe, but he needed him here. There was no way around it. Brehmer would have his girlfriend and they would work around it somehow, and watch both of them like a hawk. If the girl found out anything or turned out to be anything but what she appeared to be...then kill her. And that might mean killing Brehmer too. It was a shame, but that was the way it stood.

Otto had assigned Ursula to continue watching them.

Then came the sudden crisis with the discovery of the buried apes and monkeys and the whole thing fell apart. Why did that young fool compromise them so? Now they had to hold the girl indefinitely...or until the job in Chicago was done...and then? Kill her. Most definitely. But Brehmer would be controllable as long as she was still alive...so for now, she must live.

Nothing could ever be simple, could it?

Ursula was thinking all this over herself as she kept a close eye on Kathryn. The girl had hardly said a word, and looked like she was in shock. Scared stiff, no doubt. Well, she had good reason to be scared.

"Smoke?" said Ursula, cooly, lighting up one herself.

"No thanks," replied Kathryn, guardedly. "I don't smoke."

"Ah!" exclaimed Ursula. "So that's it! We were all wracking our brains to understand why our handsome young pilot had suddenly become an abstainer...he who used to smoke so heroically whenever he was upset...now I understand. True dedication. It must be 'love'. I would say you were a lucky girl, but that would be quite incongruous at this juncture, wouldn't it?"

"Yes," said Kathryn bitterly. "It certainly would. Who the hell are you and what are you doing in Chicago?"

"Better you shouldn't know," replied Ursula smoothly, blowing smoke, and tapping off a bit of ash. "And by the way, just what do you know? It would be better if you just tell us now and don't make things difficult. Otto is not so nice as I am, and he is the boss here."

"Apparently I don't know a damn thing," snapped Kathryn, with tears of anger showing in her eyes. "I thought I was going out with a very nice young Polish man named Wally Krupinski. That's not his real name at all, is it?"

"No," admitted Ursula, "it's not. But it will do for now. In this line of work one exchanges names like gloves or shoes."

"You're Nazis, aren't you?" said Kathryn, glaring at her. This girl had quite a temper, you could see that. A fiery one when it came down to brass tacks.

"Humph," retorted Ursula, raising her eyebrows. "You say it like it was some sort of insult. What do you know about it? You're a victim of Allied propaganda. We are people who serve our country faithfully and risk our lives."

Kathryn shot her back a contemptuous look and turned away without a word. Nor would she reply to any more of Ursula's questions.

"You are very foolish," said Ursula at length. "I leave you in the tender care of Bruno here. Be careful of him. Bruno lacks imagination, don't you, Bruno? And he might get the idea you were trying to escape and shoot you."

"Oh, go to hell, Blondie," commented Bruno, without any heat. He was used to being picked on by Ursula. He thought she was a right cold bitch, even if she was good looking. He put down his paper and sat down across the room from Katherine, watching her stolidly but without any hostility. She was certainly a more pleasant sight to look at than Otto or Martin...but she was in a lousy mood. He decided not to bother her any more than was absolutely necessary. Angry women made Bruno feel very nervous. He preferred not to deal with them at all if he could help it.

"And what are you going to do now?" said Bruno to Ursula as she stood up. Not that he really cared.

"Me?" she inquired archly. "I am going to re-educate that young fool of a pilot and teach him not to spend his valuable time kissing young American strumpets."

It must have been the wrong thing to say, because to Bruno's amazement Kathryn exploded, leaping to her feet and striking out at Ursula with clawed hands, so fast that Bruno's jaw had barely had time to hit the floor before the two of them were tangled up in a screaming fight.

"Jesus Christ!" yelled Bruno. This was close to his worst nightmare. He elbowed his way in between them and got a fist in one eye and a couple of good scratches for his efforts. It was like wrestling with barbed wire. Martin and Brehmer came pounding in from the front room and dove into the fray, and between the three of them they got the two women apart.

"You little idiot!" spat Ursula. "What the hell do you think this is? Public school? I can shoot you dead any time I take a mind to, and don't think I can't!"

"Nobody is shooting anybody," said Brehmer savagely to Ursula, and he stepped in front of Kathryn protectively. Martin and Bruno were holding her arms tightly.

"What the hell do you care?" screamed Kathryn at Brehmer, and burst into tears. "You're not who you said you were. You're a liar and a spy and I hate you!"

Brehmer flinched and looked stricken. He started to speak haltingly, then gave it up and walked slowly out of the room looking like he wished he was dead.

Ursula stalked out in his wake and slammed the door behind her.

Kathryn was very quiet after that, and so was Bruno. He didn't make a peep, but just sat on the other side of the room looking like a cat trying to balance on a telephone wire. Martin stuck around to keep them company, and chatted idly about this and that. After awhile he went and made some tea and brought it back.

"Need a break?" he asked Bruno.

"I wouldn't mind."

"Go ahead then. We'll be fine."

Bruno went out with obvious relief. Martin poured himself some tea, poured some for Kathryn as well, and put it down near her on the side table. He sipped quietly, took a breath, and then spoke casually.

"I know that you don't like any of us in the least right now...and there's no particular reason why you should, but there is simply something that I must tell you, and you don't have to tell me anything in return."

Kathryn glanced up at him silently. She was attempting to repair her makeup, just for something to do.

"What I want to tell you is that I know your "Wally" very well. I've known him for about two years...long enough to know this: he is utterly honest, idealistic to a fault, courageous and hardworking, impeccably loyal to those he loves...and he loves you so much right now that it's killing him. That is the plain truth."

She said nothing, but her eyes filled with tears.

"It's a bad business," said Martin, "but he is my friend and I care about him. I can see that you do too. I want to tell you that your caring is not in vain, and that he simply cannot help being in this situation. He didn't ask for it. It's the war. He had no choice about it. No choice whatsoever. The war put him here against his will, just as it has me. Without it, we might all be the best of friends right now, sitting in your Chicago stadium and eating 'hot dogs' and getting along famously. I'm very sorry about it, but please go easy on him, because if you don't he is going to lose his mind."

She wept quietly for a bit, and Martin drank his tea. Eventually she dried her eyes, looked at him helplessly, and said "What can I do"?

"Keep calm," advised Martin, "and talk to him. I will arrange for you to be alone with him here for a few minutes if I can. Then let him explain himself. I'm sure that you are no agent, but I am trying to figure out how you can get clear of this. I'm trying to figure out how all of us can get clear of it, God knows!" he exclaimed. "You must be very careful of Otto," he went on, "You know that already...and of Ursula too. Don't make any trouble or give them any excuse or they definitely will kill you...and then I expect Jurgen...yes, that is your boyfriend's real name...will kill them. Or they'll kill him. Whoever moves quickest. And I'll have to take sides when it happens. So don't make it happen!"

"I understand," said Kathryn wearily, and she stared into her tea as if trying to unravel the future.

"It's a hell of a bad situation," said Martin, "but I'm afraid that's the way it is. I'm not going to tell you anything about our 'work' here, because your life would be forfeit if I did, and don't ask Jurgen about it either. It wouldn't do any good if you knew anyway. I wish I didn't know about it myself at this point. Lives have already been lost...and perhaps for nothing."

"That's usually what happens, isn't it?" said Kathryn.

Martin nodded. "Ja. Probably. People follow orders from other people whom they barely know and life goes down the drain."

"Well, thank you," she said. "I think I believe you. I really need a rest now."

"I'm sure you do. We all do. There's no way out of here except by the door, so I'll leave you now. You have everything you need here. Try to get some sleep, and think on what I said. You have a good man out there, even if he is on 'the other side' at the moment."

He bowed slightly in a rather courtly way, got up, and quietly left the room.

Kathryn heard the deadbolt slide home and then nothing but a distant murmur of voices. She went to the door and listened for a minute, but they were talking in German. She sat back down, drank her tea slowly, and thought about the situation long and hard.

* * * * *

---

29 Jan 04 - 12:57 AM (#1104011)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: GUEST,Tang the Orangutan

OOOOo oooo OOOHOHOOOO!

---

29 Jan 04 - 01:06 AM (#1104015)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: GUEST,Tang the Orangutan

Sorry about that last post. I just got a little excited from reading this story.

---

29 Jan 04 - 09:26 AM (#1104261)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: 42

i'd be thinking about it long and hard too!

---

29 Jan 04 - 11:43 AM (#1104371)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Nice to get some comments from an Orangutan for a change...

---

29 Jan 04 - 03:15 PM (#1104531)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Solly the howler monkey had been very surprised when he got the new orders from Kerchak to actually help Chongo with his investigation and not set him up. It had to do with the young primates who'd been found dead down by the river, a grisly affair. Solly was the type who adapted quickly to changing situations, and he got right on it, tapping every source he could think of for information.

There were a few scraps of useful info trickling in on the grapevine. A couple of rhesus monkeys had spotted people coming in and out of the now infamous cabin, so recently vacated by whoever had killed Kerchak's niece and the others. There was a man, probably in his mid to late 30's, wore a trenchcoat, fedora and glasses, dark hair, looked like a serious type. There was a slightly younger man, cleanshaven, similarly dressed, well groomed. A third guy, very muscular, looked like a bouncer or a football player, again in the fedora and trenchcoat. And a much younger man, early twenties, very athletic looking, liked to go for walks, blonde and handsome, had a military bearing about him.

There was also a woman. A blonde. She was a real good looker by human standards and a sharp operator. Solly had already spotted her and tried to tail her twice, and she had lost him both times. It was downright embarrassing. Solly didn't think she had even known he was there, she was probably just assuming somebody might be there at all times, and acting accordingly. She was a real pro.

It sounded like the other guys were pros too, except for the young one. He didn't fit in somehow.

One more peculiar thing had come up. Solly got word that a girl had apparently vanished from a bakery/grocery shop while alone on her shift. The cops suspected foul play. The girl's name was Kathryn McConnell, and she had a totally clean record in every respect. Solly wouldn't have given it a moment's further thought except for one thing. Kathryn had been seen several times recently with the young, athletic guy. They'd been dating and he'd been visiting her at work quite regularly. Solly started asking around in the neighborhood. Eventually he came up with a spidermonkey who had been hawking newspapers on the day Kathryn disappeared. This monk confirmed that Kathryn had come out of the store with the young guy on one side and the mug with the glasses on the other, and she'd looked very white-faced. They quickly got in a car and drove away, and she'd not been seen since. Bingo! Solly had no idea what Kathryn had to do with it all, but it was a solid lead. He arranged to meet Chongo at Al's Diner that afternoon. Solly had never had a chance to meet Chongo and he was looking forward to it. The Chimp gumshoe was becoming a bit of a legend ever since that caper with Big Daddy Malone and the mobs. He'd even danced with a human dame once. Unheard of. He had to be one cool cucumber.

- LH

---

30 Jan 04 - 02:49 PM (#1105351)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos

With thanks to Terry Pratchett...

Back at the precinct a strange scene was playing itself out. An non-English speaking orangutan was attempting to tell several police officers what he had seen the night before, Unfortunately the policemen in question were no good at charades.

The Orangutan had come from a very far distance to see this city of "Chicago". He'd observed that it was very strange and fascinating as he'd heard it was and yet in some ways it was very similar to his home. For instance he'd found upon his arrival that just like at home any traveler will arrive at his destination eventually. Unfortunately their luggage would not. Having no money in his pockets, primarily because he had no pockets because he wore no clothes, he found himself rather destitute and unable to finance the return trip. So he'd wandered the city streets until he came upon a building that he understood fully. The Library.

The clouds parted and the sun which had been vacant all day shone down on him. He opened the door to the hallowed halls knowing that there he would find someone that could help. Unfortunately for him the librarian, in whom he had great faith, had never seen an orangutan before. She knew intellectually that they existed but to know something and to have it suddenly pop-up in front of you with a great toothy grin was quite another. She fainted.

His second mistake was in trying to bring her too without help. Her eyes opened to see his great hulking orange body hovering over her, her hand held in his huge hairy mitt being patted by his other huge hairy mitt. She fainted again. He became a bit concerned the second time and went to find the library director for assistance. When the ambulance that the director called left, it was with a sedated librarian in the back, softly babbling to herself.

Without the help he expected to find, and without anywhere else to go, he settled into doing what had become second nature to him back home. He began cataloguing and returning books to their shelves. In short, as at home, he became "The Librarian".

It was because of this that he'd first run into Katherine. She'd been a regular at the library, always checking out books about foreign places that she'd never seen. In this they were kindred spirits. He'd been on his way to deliver a book about Poland that he had had to obtain from an other library to her. He'd been on the street in front of her store when he had seen her forced at gunpoint into a grey ford sedan which he'd chased into the old river front district.

Now if only he could get this across to the police. He was becoming rather frustrated withe the process having gone through the "first word", "sounds like" routine several times already. They'd missed lid, and hid, and bid had gone nowhere at all. He was about to start tearing off limbs and assailing their owners with them when it dawned on him that he might actually be able to get them to understand "kid". He did the first word, sounds like motions and then put his fingers pointing upward to either side of his head.
"Devil" guessed one of the police. "Satan" guessed another.
The librarian covered his eyes with his big hairy mitt and blew soft raspberries and tried again this time adding sound effects (after all they didn't need to necessarily follow the rules).
After seeing the librarian put the fingers up and hearing him say "baahhh", the police finally seemed to be getting the hint.
"I got it!", shouted one, "he means sheep!"
"No you idiot he means lamb!" said another.
"Since when are you an expert on barnyard animals?" a third asked.
Another ventured "goat?"
The librarian got very excited. He was finally getting through!
He then began to gesture for "small".
Immediately the policemen began shouting, "small goat, little goat, tiny goat, miniature goat, itty bitty goat!"
It was then that Detective Drecker walked into the room and said, "Kid, a little goat is a kid."
The librarian turned a backflip he was so ecstatic! He quickly pointed at his nose to let them know, for certain if they'd missed the back flip, that Drecker had got the right answer. He then signed for second word and put his hands together as if praying, laid them aside of his head, closed his eyes and began making snoring noises.
The policemen again started shouting answers, they didn't want to be outdone by the detective after all, "sleep", "snooze", and "rest" all got raspberries and looks of derision. Again Drecker was the one who said nap. He was also the first one to put together kid and nap to get kidnap and it was all downhill from there. Well, with the exception, of having to console a frustrated and exhausted 600 lb male orangutan librarian. Soon Drecker had the river front area staked out.

---

30 Jan 04 - 03:15 PM (#1105377)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

LOL! Well, there's a refreshing little vignet, and once again the orangutans get honorable mention in this tale...

- LH

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30 Jan 04 - 06:19 PM (#1105510)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos

Oook!

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30 Jan 04 - 10:53 PM (#1105619)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Oooo! Oooo! Oooo! EEEEEEEEK! EEEEEEK! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEK! (jumping up and down and waving arms frantically)

---

31 Jan 04 - 12:57 AM (#1105675)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

It took some doing, but Martin managed to find an opportunity for Brehmer to be alone with Kathryn while Otto and Bruno were poring feverishly over the latest information Ursula had smuggled out of the briefcase of one of her American boyfriends. They had about 15 hasty minutes to pour out their hearts to one another. In that time Brehmer, after an initially abject and tearful apology...which Kathryn matched with one of her own for saying she hated him...had given the girl the briefest thumbnail sketch of his short stint in the Luftwaffe in 1940, his being shot down over England and captured, the voyage to Canada with other German prisoners of war, the harrowing escape across Lake Superior and his becoming enmeshed in Otto's little spy cell ever since.

"I never planned for any of this," he said emphatically. "My only thought was to be a pilot and do my very best, but I have become a spy, and frankly I'm not very good at it. I don't even have a gun. I've been pestering Otto for the last 2 years to arrange a way for me to return to Europe and rejoin my squadron, but he has no intention of doing so. He needs every pair of hands and eyes he can get here. I hate this work! It's not what I trained for...and if I get caught I will be shot...because I'm out of uniform. Besides...we are involved in things that are very ugly, and likely to become more so...and now I have involved you in this quite unintentionally, and I could kick myself for it! I am the world's biggest idiot, and that is for sure."

"No you're not," said Kathryn. "You're not an idiot at all. You're just someone who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Jurgen...you know I'm still not used to not thinking of you as Wally," she laughed a little through her own tears, "Jurgen, you have got to get clear of Otto. Run away! You escaped from Canada so why can you not escape from Otto? Just walk out the door and disappear. I know that you don't want to surrender, but you could go south...to Mexico or something. You could make it. I know you could."

"Yes," he said bitterly. "That is exactly what I should have done after the first few months...but now...everything has changed. Now you are here as a prisoner and I cannot walk away. I am in this for better or for worse to the bitter end, because if I leave they will kill you. Martin wouldn't, but he wouldn't be able to prevent it either. That Otto is a cold devil, and Ursula, if anything, is worse. They would sacrifice any number of lives in order to 'win', as they see winning. But I'll tell you the real truth...nobody wins these deadly games! Nobody. Only some survive, and some do not. Galland said that once, you know, when a member of the German press corps called him a 'hero' for the hundredth time. He got quite sarcastic. He said 'Hero? I never met any heroes yet. Just those who lived and those who died.' And you know, Galland loved to fly against the British, because they were such damned worthy opponents, and he loved the aerial jousting with them, but he could still see that in the end it was just a big meat-grinder swallowing up the youngest and the best on both sides. I didn't see that then...I was too young and hungry for glory...but I see it now."

"Never mind about that," she said, "It's far away now. A world away from us. Now listen...if what you say is true, then we simply must both escape together. Would Martin help us?"

"I don't know," said Brehmer. "I know he would like to if he could, but that's pushing it. He is, after all, loyal to Germany...as am I if it comes to a decent fight...still..." he knitted his brows. "If he thought that Otto was planning something simply intolerable...some horrible murder or atrocity...he might not put up with it. And then, anything is possible."

A sudden three soft raps on the door, and Martin stepped in. "That's it!" he said urgently, gesturing to Brehmer to come out with all haste.

Jurgen and Kathryn clung to each other for one moment, then he tore himself free and stepped away, as Martin closed the door softly behind them and locked it...just as Otto and Bruno entered the room. Otto was scowling heavily.

"We've very little time," he snapped. "Martin, I want you to start putting together the explosives. I want enough to blow the Great Pyramid off its bloody foundation...and get our red-eyed loverboy here to help you," he added savagely. "He needs something to occupy his mind. Bruno! You get back in there and watch the girl. There are no windows, but I'm leaving nothing to chance."

"Come on then, Jurgen," said Martin. Brehmer gave Otto a sharp piercing look, rather like an eagle might eye a dangerous and hated opponent that he plans to kill at the first opportunity. Then he followed Martin to the shop, and they began assembling detonators, wire, and charges.

"I was wondering, Martin..." said Brehmer, after a bit.

"Yes? What are you wondering?"

"This spying trade is always dangerous, and I think you know that Otto has not seen fit to issue me a firearm in the last two years, as he clearly thinks I am just an amateur here. Well...I was thinking that I might sometime be needing one."

Martin stopped what he was doing, and stared into Brehmer's keen blue eyes. They never wavered, but Brehmer was pleading with him desperately behind those steady eyes. Martin sighed, and pulled a small snub-nosed pistol from his vest. He handed it to Brehmer. "Seven shots," he said, "and here's another clip to go with it. Don't use it unless you absolutely must, and don't waste a shot. It's a well balanced gun, but I'm afraid you won't have time to practice now."

"Thank you, Martin," said Brehmer, tucking the gun and the clip away in his trousers. "I won't need to practice. I used to compete with the best in the squadron on our offtime. Only Willi Baatz could shoot a handgun better than I. Damn good fellow, but he burned up in a Messerschmitt one day over Tangmere, after doing a perfect strafing run on the Tommies. Their AA got him on the pull-out when he was almost free and clear."

"Too bad," said Martin, "But something gets all of us in the end." He winked at Brehmer. "Me, I want to die at 75 or 85 of far too much excellent wine, fine music, and incomparable lovemaking. I hope I find a way to do that." They resumed the deadly work of constructing bombs. Bombs big enough to blow holes in most anything they might be needed for. What madness was Otto planning now?

* * * * *

They were all done when Ursula returned and gave them a hell of a shock, because when Otto opened the door she didn't look like Ursula at all. Her hair was dark, and pulled back in a tight bun, and her clothing was...well, rather sober and severe...like a librarian or something. Otto didn't even recognize her until she spoke.

"You should see your faces," she remarked tartly. "You look like you're all trying to catch flies with your mouths hanging open like that."

"Ursula! Bloody hell! What are you doing like that?" spluttered Otto. "I might have shot you."

"Not likely, Otto," she purred, "I am very quick on the draw, as they say in the American Westerns. And...I am quick enough to know when the hounds are closing in! While you gentlemen have been planning your great assault upon the so-called 'Arsenal of Democracy'...(she laughed contemptuously)...I have been watching the waterfront. They are onto us. The place is lousy with plainclothes operatives...and lousier with apes. Stinking apes and monkeys in the alleys, in the trees, on the rooftops...from one end of the waterfront and right down to the other. If I had come here tonight looking as I usually do, they would about now be preparing to smash down your door like the Big Bad Wolf and bring us all out, alive or dead. It is unfortunate that those wretched apes' bodies were discovered. You should have buried them deeper, Otto, or put them in a bath of acid."

"Mein Gott!" exclaimed Otto. "Are you sure?"

"You know better than to ask that," said Ursula, shortly.

"We must move fast," said Otto, but he felt fear gnawing at the pit of his stomach. His nerve was beginning to give way after months of increasing tension. He had a virtual mutineer on his hands in Brehmer, an unknown quantity in Martin, a kidnapped girl in the backroom to keep an eye on, a target that was probably about as well guarded as Fort Knox, and a city full of stinking apes and monkeys...creeping vermin!...watching for him to stick his nose out the door and be seen. He felt suddenly weak, and passed a hand over his brow vaguely, then sat down heavily on one of the kitchen chairs. Ursula was looking at him commandingly with a bit of a sneer on her beautiful lips.

In a sudden moment of sheer blinding hatred Otto realized that she didn't really respect him at all, never had, and that she had more nerve when it came right down to it than he ever would in his wildest dreams. He was nothing to her. Absolutely nothing. He could have killed her for that, if it would have done any good.

* * * * *

---

31 Jan 04 - 05:30 PM (#1106133)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: GUEST,Chongo Chimp

Assistant Editor's Note: Okay, the write-up on this caper was Rapaire's idea, see? He was desperate to get it going by mid-January, and he did. Now the poor sucker's been overwhelmed by other circumstances and he ain't got much time to write, but we need him. Therefore, we gotta all hang tight until Rapaire gets back here and does some fill-in on the Manhattan Project stuff, so avoid any major plot developments for a bit, I'd say. No problem with puttng in a few little fillers for background though.

Just to keep people entertained, I am gonna fill some general info about apes in the 1940's USA...

Okay, we apes have gotta face quite a bit of discimination in human-dominated society, cos we are recent immigrants and people got the idea that they are way superior to us. You got these rich white-collar white people at the very top of the social pecking order, then you got the poor whites, then you got the brown and yellow people a notch down from there, then you got the American Indians another notch down, and then you got the negroes (called 'blacks' these days) another notch down...and then you got us apes and monkeys, who get dumped down at the very bottom of the pile. It hasn't been easy, but at least primates were never enslaved en masse like the Negroes were back before the Civil War...only a few of us were kept prisoner in zoos and circuses here and there. I have to say though, that there have been medical experiments more recently done on apes and monkeys as bad as anthing the Nazis ever dreamed up, and the scars go deep! There's a lot of anger out there.

The big primate migrations began in the 1800's, and got a terrific boost after 1912 when "Tarzan of the Apes" was published by Edgar Rice Burroughs...a human who is revered by primates everywhere.

See his biography at:

http://www.tarzan.org/official_biography_part3.html

Primate immigration to the USA really picked up in the 10's and 20's of the 20th century, then sorta stayed steady. You had apes from Africa and Asia and monkeys from just about everywhere comin' in on boats, lookin' for the 'good life' in the Land of Opportunity. Mostly they find lousy, demeaning jobs at rock bottom pay. This made a lot of apes and monkeys turn to crime, and that fueled more human prejudice. It's a vicious circle.

I gotta admit there is bad prejudice among primates too! Apes look down on monkeys generally, thinking they are mental lightweights not to be taken seriously. Monkeys look down on apes, thinking we are big, stupid bruisers without no sensitivity. Chimps figure gorillas are crude, arrogant bozos. Gorillas figure chimps are self-important, arrogant pansies. Orangs figure chimps and gorillas are goofballs without much brains or class. Baboons don't like nobody else, and don't even get along so well with each other. It's a big problem.

Still, I've seen some progress. Primates are slowly winning the respect of humans...some of them...and are beginning to find a sense of solidarity among themselves. The fight for equality is only beginning on the streets of America, but I see the day when our oppressors will yell "Kagoda!" (we surrender) and share and share alike with their primate brothers and sisters across this land.

Chongo

---

31 Jan 04 - 11:00 PM (#1106328)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos

Chongo,

To paraphrase,

I have a dream.

I am proud to help you and your bretheren find your voice through this story. I would like to join you on the grounds before the Lincon Monument where other struggles have found their bedrock. With the heavens of the almighty above us, the works of nature around us and the monuments to the open minded before us to declare "We Will Overcome!"

---

31 Jan 04 - 11:40 PM (#1106340)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos

Chongo returned the container of uranium to the general the next morning. He was going to tell the general about "Dicky" dogging him as any man that felt that vehemently about primates might just be too much of a loose cannon, but he held back.
"You know you're pretty much our last hope on this investigation," Graves told him, "Our top man, the officer that was with me when we first contacted you, was thrown into the brig this morning for assaulting a female gorilla. Rumor also has it that she is.... an escort shall we say? I shouldn't tell you this because the investigation into his behavior is just beginning, but the investigating officer believes that he spent the night with her and then attempted to kill her to cover his indiscretions. Sick, sick man, no offense, he keeps saying that he was set up and how much he hates apes. I'm glad you didn't have any run ins with him."

Chongo grinned at the news but tried to cover it up. "Leave it to me, he says," thought Chongo, "Muscles like steel mountains and a sharp mind as well as a twisted sense of humor. I'm glad he's working with me on this caper." Chongo told the general that he'd found the container in the cabin where the spies had been. He felt bad about lying to the general but it might give creedence to Dicky's story and Chongo was better off with him in the brig.

Chongo also told the general about the bodies and grave.
"We'll have to get the bodies from the morgue and decon the area," Graves said, "I'll work through the hospital to do that and make sure the policemen are okay as well. Shouldn't be too difficult. Chongo, if you'd help me on just one more thing on this as well, I'm going to take care of the burial costs and help out the remaining family members as well. Those youngsters died because of an oversight in our security. They died for their country in a way, and I for one am very grieved that they did."

Chongo's jaw dropped in awe. Never before had he seen such respect for his kind displayed by a human. Sure he and Drecker were friends, and Jake down at the gym had literally saved his life, but these children were strangers to General Graves.
"Stunned you did I?, the general said, lighting up a stogie, Good, I like to keep people on their toes."
Chongo extended his hand to Graves saying "It would be my great pleasure general."

Chongo was still musing over the general and what he'd said when he got back to his office. It was still early and the smell of someone cooking brunch was making him extremely hungry. Smelled like eggs, bacon, toast and coffee.
"Wait just a damn minute! That's coming from my kitchen!, he thought. He drew his .45 and slowly inched towards the kitchen.
A strange howler monkey, well all howler monkeys were strange... a howler monkey unknown to Chongo was wearing an apron and handling a spatula like a pro at the stove.
"Hope ya like ya eggs over easy," the monk said, "I do dem best"
"So this is what it feels like," Chongo thought, "I guess I should have expected this at some time or other, I do this all the time to other people."
Chongo put away his .45 and hung up his coat and hat.
"M' names Solly," the howler said still not turing from the stove top, "Kerchak sent me." "I reckoned ya'd be hungry since ya left so early dis mornin'". Ya take yer java black I'd guess. Din't find no sugar er cream. S'good and hot, pour yaself a mug and siddown, I'll be witcha in a minute. This all came out about a mile a minute as it did with most howler monkeys and it took Chongo a minute to understand it. Chongo had learned to record the sounds coming from a howler in his mind and play it back at a slower speed, parsing the message together bit by bit. He grabbed a mug from the cupboard, poured himself some coffee and sat down at the table. One sip told him that the howler made a good brew. Chongo found himself anticipating the eggs and bacon.

---

01 Feb 04 - 02:25 PM (#1106635)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: GUEST

Several salivating moments later Solly brought two plates to the table.
"Eat first, we'll talk after, " Solly said grabbing his own steaming mug and sitting down.
Chongo dove in head first. Something told him that after he heard what Solly had to say, he wasn't going to have a lot of time for eating for awhile. Unfortunately the eggs and bacon didn't last long and he was almost longing for seconds when Solly put down his napkin and said "down ta bidness."
"Help me wash up, we'll talk in front a da zink."
Chongo found himself drying the dishes that Solly handed him.
"Use ta woik at a restraunt. Trained up sa well dat I can't geddit outta m' system, sorry."
Chongo used to let the dishes sit in the sink until enough built up to make it worth his while. Matter of fact the load that had been sitting waiting for his attention was gone. Now that he thought of it the whole place seemed to be in better order and a lot cleaner than he left it. Chongo grinned, Kerchak didn't know the favor he'd done sending Solly over.
"Well, well, well. Where ta start?" Solly said while rinsing, "Ya knows Kerchak done sent me ta informs ya a what we found. Well, ya knows bout da chimps and ya seen da grave. Been ta da parents a da kids an dey din't see notin'. Checked da oder kids in da neighbahood an dey say dat two guys inna grey sedan come round lookin fer help. Da chimps whats dead went wit um. Same story each neighbahood. No d'scription. All hoomans look da same ta dem. Only 'ting was da sedan. One a da oder parents say dey seen da sedan da oder day. one hooman goz inta da shop and pulls two oder hoomans out, pointin' gat attem. One guy, one doll. Nunna da kids sed dey saw a dame b'fo. Checked da shop. Dame der sed oder dame not been ta woik inna day er two. Parent sed dey saw da sedan head fo da old rivafront. Kerchak got eyes allova riverfront lookin'. Dat's bout it. Oh yeah, Kerchak wanna talk ta ya bout sumtin private. Toll me ta axe ya ta come ova later. Neva know Kerchak ta ask so p'lite befo."
Solly wiped his hands with a dishrag and grinned.
A few moments passed before Chongo fully digested what solly had actually said. He realized Solly was still standing there, motionless.
"Uhh, yeah, tell Kerchak I'll be around about one," he said.

---

01 Feb 04 - 02:27 PM (#1106637)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: GUEST

No offense Chongo. That's the way I hear Solly in my mind.
Damn its hard to stop typing that way after you've gotten into it.

---

01 Feb 04 - 05:31 PM (#1106749)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos

Okay, sorry, the last two entries were made by myself. Now to the story.

Chongo took a moment to check in with Drecker. Now that Dicky and his boys had been pulled off he didn't have to worry about being overheard anymore.
Drecker listened patiently to Chongo and then told him about the report from the librarian. At least the stories jived. Nothing further on it though but Drecker assured Chongo he'd call if they found anything.

Chongo lit himself a havannah and checked his mail. Gotta do it sometime, boring as it is. Bills, bills, bills, no letters from secret admirers, no you too may be a winner anouncement. Chongo began thinking that the world loved him only for his money. Then he thought "what money?" and chuckled to himself.

Chongo caught a cab for the east side to keep his appointment with Kerchak. He checked the stairs this time before going up. Sure enough an ape was there with a thomson. The Ape smiled up at Chongo and actually waved. Seems he'd been told Chongo was expected. Chongo knocked on the door and was admitted by Solly who actually took his coat and hat. and then led him into a parlor off of the foyer. Kerchak was sitting in an arm chair with a worried look on his face.
"Well, here I am Kerchak. Kerchak?"
"Huh! Oh hello Chongo, glad you came by. Sit down will you?"
Chongo sat down as Solly came in with a tray with two drinks on it, grinning from ear to ear.
Kerchak glanced at Solly as he took his drink from the tray.
"You know that smirk is really annoying Solly, it isn't all that funny."
"Yeah boss, it ain't funny," Solly replied, but the grin remained anyway.
"Okay Kerchak I'll bite, what's going on?" Chongo asked.
Kerchak sighed, "Well you heard about Dicky right?"
"Oh yeah! pure brilliance, Dicky ain't gonna be bothering me for a long time to come," Chongo replied.
Yeah, I thought so too," Kerchak said with a fleeting smile, "except..."
Now Chongo knew something was really going on, "Come on Kerchak, spit it out."
"Well, I needed to make a deal with someone to pull that off and I don't know if I can do it."
"So you need my help, is that it?"
"Yeah, but it's not what you might think. Maizey, the gorilla that Dicky woke up with? She told me that if I wanted her to do it I had to promise her a "date" at a really posh place, uptown.
"So what's the problem?" Chongo asked.
"I don't know how to say this Chongo, but I've never been with a woman before, I mean I've been with a woman before but never on a real date. I think Maizey likes me and I think I might just feel the same about her. I've never had to deal with this type of thing."
"Kerchak old boy, you've come to the right place."
"Just one thing Chongo, you tell anyone, I mean anyone about this, and I will kill you!"
Chongo chuckled, "do you mean more than you want to kill me already?"
Kerchak looked a little stunned and then grinned himself "yeah, you tell anyone and after I'm done killing you for what happened before I'll bring you back and kill you again! I mean it!", he said and burst out into a howl of laughter.
"So you gonna help me or what?"
"Yeah Kerchak, but you might notice that I'm not exactly doing well in that market myself." Chongo replied, "let's get down to business."

---

01 Feb 04 - 06:44 PM (#1106817)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Rapparee

Fermi sat in his desk chair, poring over equations. It squeaked.

The chair, not the equations. The equations were fine, dead on.

He picked up the intercom phone, punched a button. "Feynman? If you're not busy, I have those equations ready for you."

A few minutes later there was a knock on the door and Richard Feynman entered. Fermi handed him the sheaf of equations, turned back to his desk. Feynman hesitated, cleared his throat.

"Something more?" Fermi asked quietly.

"Well, yes. Some of the guys and me, we were wondering...do you know when that next shipment is coming up from The Area in Tennessee? We're getting awfully close to critical, we think."

"Hmmm...no, I don't, but I think that it should be any day now. How much U235 have we embedded? The pile keeps growing every day."

"About 8.4 kilograms. More exactly," he continued, seeing the professorial look creep into Fermi's eyes, "8.391458845 kilograms. Eighteen and a half pounds."

Fermi chuckled. "I want to get this self-sustaining as much as you do, Richard," he said. "And we are so close. So very close. You know, we could have done this in Italy, in Rome, don't you? We would have discovered the fissioning of the nucleus if I hadn't followed a bad hunch and wrapped foil around the test tubes to preven beta leakage! And so Otto and Lise did the same thing, showed that fissioning was occuring, and got the Nobel Prize!" He laughed, a real laugh. Fermi wasn't jealous of his German colleagues.

"More cadmium control rods came last night," Feynman observed. "We're in pretty good shape there. Miller is fitting them into the mechanism right now."

"Any more of the radioactives disappear?" Fermi asked, his face serious.

"No, not lately. There was a rumor, something from the MPs I think, or maybe the FBI, about a bunch of bodies found up on the lakeshore north of town. Apparently they were in pretty bad shape. General Groves sent North and South over to the hospital; he thinks it might be radiation caused."

"Ed North and John South? Good men. They'll find out. But it couldn't be, of course."

"Of course not. Well, I'm off to read these equations. Drop around later, if you want. Some of the guys have gotten some good chianti."

"Thank you, I might very well do that."

The door closed. Fermi sighed, picked up his pipe and relit it. He reached into his in-basket, pulled out a several pages of equations, and became engrossed again.

---

02 Feb 04 - 04:12 PM (#1107557)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Otta chewed on his frayed nerves for about twenty minutes and had a stiff drink while Ursula went over the documents with Martin. The warmth in his throat and stomach braced him up after awhile, and he called Ursula aside for a private conference.

"Tell me honestly, what chance do we have of getting in there at Stagg Field and doing anything decisive?"

"Almost no chance at all," replied Ursula. "Their security is as tight as I imagine you would find around Joe Stalin right now."

Otto looked grim. "I expected as much. Your recommendation?"

"First," said Ursula, "we get the hell out of this place. They've got the waterfront staked out and they will find us soon, barring a miracle. I don't believe in miracles. But I have a plan."

Otto nursed the remains of his drink and looked hopefully at her. "What is it then?"

"I rent a truck. Tomorrow. I bring that truck here, make a supposed 'delivery' at the back door of a small package...and all of you get aboard as quickly as possible and hide in the back. I'll back the truck right to the doors so no one can be seen getting in except me. They can't know my new appearance."

Otto looked totally perplexed. "And then?"

"And then I drive north, back to where you picked up Brehmer when he landed from the lake 2 years ago. You still have that cabin, don't you?"

"Yes!" exclaimed Otto. "It's in a very isolated spot, heavily forested. Near a town called Rockland, in Michigan. But then we'll be far from Chicago...too far for practicality."

"You will," said Ursula. "I won't. And this is a job best done by subtlety, not force. It needs but one person. Me. I still have one good idea left up my sleeve."

"What about all our gear? Our papers? There isn't time," protested Otto vehemently.

"No there isn't. So you just take the essentials. Blow up the rest. Make it look like there was an accident with the bombs and we all got blown up together."

Otto's eyes lit up. "Yes..." He pondered it. "I could blow up the girl too, and get rid of her..."

"Not unless you plan to blow up Brehmer as well," said Ursula. "The fool would die for her, I'm sure."

"It's worth a thought," mused Otto. They sat in silence. The clock on the wall ticked relentlessly on.

"No," he said finally. "I'm tempted. But no. Martin concerns me too, and I'm not sure what he would do in such a case. We need him, and we may yet need Brehmer. We'll all go to the cabin at Rockland. One big 'happy' family."

"And then I return at once to Chicago," said Ursula. "I've got a new identity, and a plan that may work after all. I'll keep you informed."

"I could order you to reveal that plan to me now," said Otto.

"No you couldn't, Otto," said Ursula, with a steely look in her eyes. "It's not as you think at all. If you doubt me, ask Berlin. Ask 'Reinhard'. He will tell you in plain terms."

A chill went through Otto. He said no more. (Should have known it...!)

"Then what am I to do while you make you plan?" he muttered, biting down hard on his humiliation.

"Keep up the communications with Berlin. Report on everything. I will keep you informed. If I succeed, fine. If I die, then it's your job from there on in."

"And if you are caught?"

"Then I die," she said simply. "Depend upon it. I will not be taken prisoner."

"If so," he retorted, sarcastically "I will see that you get Germany's highest decoration. And I will send flowers."

"I'm sure," she replied, smiling coldly back at him. "We understand one another perfectly, don't we?"   She stood erect with an air of finality. "Best get to it. You have until dawn."

Otto got moving at once and gave the orders to pack, and pack only the essentials. Then he instructed Martin to set up the bombs and wire a timer. Martin was very good at that. He'd been in demolition before the war, and he knew just how to bring down a building.

* * * * *

---

02 Feb 04 - 05:25 PM (#1107623)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: GUEST,Bubba Baboon

Dang! R yew all communists er sumthin', like thet thar Openhinder nookyoolar physisistin guy? How cum yew no so dadgum much bout this hyere stuff whut went on back then? Where's ol' Jay Edgar when ya need `im? All y'all sound like communists to me.

---

02 Feb 04 - 05:59 PM (#1107650)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

It was 11 AM the following day when the cops decided to check out the warehouse. A barbary ape named Eeley had given them the tip, and it seemed like a possibility. It was one of a number of nondescript buildings in the neighborhood, and they would be checking all of them...process of elimination. Two plainclothes officers, Jamieson and Weatherup were on the scene. They had a word or two with Eeley first, after he bummed a smoke off Weatherup.

"You seen anything?" asked Jamieson, lighting up Eeley's cigarette.

"Not much. All I seen was this. A truck made a delivery there this morning. One small package in brown paper."

"What kind of truck?"

"Well, just a plain Ford truck with a box, y'know. No markings."

"Get the plate number?"

"Nope."

"Christ! Big help you are," swore Weatherup. "What about the driver?"

Eeley glared at Weatherup truculently. He didn't like cops much. "Yeah, I seen the driver."

"Well? What the hell did this driver look like."

Eeley took a long drag. He was enjoying this. He scratched the back of his neck and sighed, as if dredging up the memories. Weatherup was going slowly nuts, and Jamieson was looking not too amused either.

"It was a young guy," said Eeley. "Slender built, in a green uniform with a peaked cap. Looked maybe 18 to me. I didn't see no identifyin' marks on the uniform. dark hair, short, straight. Pale skin. small hands. He took the package to the back door and handed it to someone that I couldn't see, cos the truck was right against the building. They gave him a piece of paper. He went back in the truck and sat around for about 5 minutes, readin' the paper, and havin' a drink of coffee, I guess...or hot chocolate or somethin'. Kept the motor runnin'. It was real cold this morning. So...after about 5 minutes he puts her in gear and drives forward, goes back and shuts the doors, then gets back in the cab and drives off."

Jamieson was noting it all down carefully. "Doesn't sound like our suspects," he said, but let's check it out. "You sure you didn't get the license plate? Can you remember part of it."

"Wait..." said Eeley, "wa-ai-ai-ait...it's comin' back now..."

The officers leaned forward expectantly.

"I got it," said Eeley. "It was one o' them special plates...all letters. It started with F...yeah...that's it...F and N...and then a space...and then C-O-P-S."

"FN COPS" repeated Jamieson, carefully writing it down. He looked up sharply. Eeley had a tiny smirk lurking at the corners of his mouth, showing his canines a bit.

"Why you LOUSY..." snarled Weatherup, drawing back his fist. At that moment the building blew up with a blinding flash that knocked all three of them off their feet and broke every window on the block. It seemed to Jamieson that it was all happening in slow motion. He saw the flash, and had a moment's glimpse of the walls bursting out in all directions like a huge balloon. Better than the movies, he thought. Then he realized he was flying through the air. For a moment the whole world turned upside down and something hit him very hard. He was knocked breathless, and just lay there for a bit. Everything had gone amazingly silent. He tried rolling over, eventually managed it, and staggered slowly to his feet. Eeley was extricating himself out of a garbage can into which he had apparently been driven headfirst. Weatherup was staggering around like a crazy man, waving his gun and yelling silently. Yelling who knows what. Then Weatherup started blowing his whistle. Strangely enough it made no sound at all. Jamieson turned to look at where the building had been and saw an inferno raging there in what wasn't much more than a crater surrounded by debris.

"Jesus," he said. This must be the place after all. At least it was the place.

"I can't hear anything," he said to Weatherup. "Can you?"

Weatherup moved his lips, but it was anyone's guess what he was saying. Eeley was jumping up and down, apparently screaming like primates do when they're excited. He took off up the wall of the nearest intact building and joined several other primates on the roof. They were all gesticulating wildly, focused on the fire.

Jamieson made his way awkwardly to a pay phone, wondering how he would now when it rang at the other end. He attempted to call in to headquarters and report. When he turned around he was surprised to see two fire engines already on the scene, fighting the blaze.

Jamieson sat down on the pavement. He suddenly felt very tired.

* * * * *

Far to the north Ursula drove, moving up Highway 45 at a steady, but legal speed. Otto slid back the little window behind her and looked through. "How far have we gone?"

"Clintonville," she said. "About halfway to Rockland. We're to the west of Green Bay right now."

"Good. I'm sick of being crowded in back here and the seating is atrocious."

"It's better than the accomodations on a U-boat," she said, unsympathetically. "Brace up. Nobody gets out till we reach the cabin. Then we can build a fire, Martin can cook us a nice meal, and all will be well. How do you like the uniform?"

"It makes you look like a young man," said Otto, "Unless one looks very close. I've seen better, but it will do."

- LH

---

02 Feb 04 - 06:04 PM (#1107654)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Don't get paranoid, Bubba. This here is detective fiction, see?

---

02 Feb 04 - 10:21 PM (#1107820)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Rapparee

Yeah, Bubba. An' if you don't like it, I got some friends who'll explain it all to ya. Real private like. They'll tell you all about it on a nice quiet boat trip out into Lake Michigan. And they'll even give you a brand new pair of shoes, and 'cause they like you, you won't have to worry about the shoes wearin' out, 'cause they'll be made of cement!

Ha ha ha ha ha ha!!

---

03 Feb 04 - 09:38 PM (#1108725)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Aside from a couple of brief rest stops on deserted country roads, Ursula drove steadily north until they reached the tiny community of Rockland, Wisconsin. Population 412. Otto directed her to a sideroad that snaked back into a forested area. Three miles down that road was the cabin when Brehmer had spent several days recuperating after his dip in Lake Superior two years ago. Jurgen remembered it well. A nice place to go hunting under normal circumstances. There was a heavy layer of snow on the ground, and one wouldn't get far in those woods without snowshoes or skies now.

They had made only two very brief rest stops on the trip north, picking places where no one might glimpse the truck's passengers, and Otto had watched Kathryn and Brehmer very closely on those occasions, with one hand in his pocket. That hand had no doubt been resting on his luger, ready to shoot if necessary. Kathryn had thought fleetingly of escape, but there was no possibility of succeeding, so she had not tried anything. Mostly she just remained silent.

Otto set the others about starting a fire, and brewing up some hot tea, because the cabin was very cold. He went back out to talk to Ursula.

"Will you leave now," he asked.

"In a couple of hours," she said. "I'll just take a look at the forest and rest for a bit...I like the forest. Then I'll go back under cover of darkness."

"What about the truck? Can they trace it?"

"I doubt it," replied Ursula, "because I have put a different set of plates on it, and there are many of these same trucks. I shall abandon it in Chicago, in a place where it won't be found too soon, and then I'll get to work."

"I don't feel good about this...being left out of the loop, as they say," complained Otto. What if you get killed or something? How will I even know?"

"You'll know if you don't hear from me every three days," said Ursula, "and don't pretend it's because you care," she added tartly. "I know what is bothering you, Otto. You simply can't stand not being number one."

"Humph!" he snorted. "And what about you? I suppose you don't care in the least about such things?"

"I care about my duty," she said sharply. "Frankly, Otto, you have been incompetent lately. I can't rely on you. Neither can I rely on Martin or Brehmer, and Bruno is an ox. I don't happen to need an ox right now."

"How dare you accuse me of incompetence!" flared Otto, his face turning red, and his fists clenching.

"First you involved those monkeys," snapped Ursula. "That was foolish. They didn't get us much, except a lot of trouble. Then you didn't think to warn them against getting contaminated and they died! Now there are many of their heathen comrades out looking for us, and they have some interesting abilities that people do not, even though they are subhuman things. You then disposed of the bodies in an incompetent fashion, and they were found! You then lost your judgement utterly and blurted out something about it in front of that girl of Brehmer's in her shop, and involved her in this! All totally unnecessary! You astonish me. You are not fit for command, Otto."

Otto gasped and glared at her speechlessly, grinding his teeth. He envisioned shooting her down where she stood...a lovely fantasy. Ursula calmly smoked her cigarette and stared him down for a minute or so.

"However," she said, "you are still in command of this little cell, Otto...under my command, that is. I need you to hold it together. Eventually the girl will have to be disposed of, but for the time being I advise you to treat her well...but watch her and Brehmer! You don't need me to tell you that, do you?"

Otto shook his head mutely.

"You wonder why I say 'treat her well'? Because if you do, Brehmer will be much more useful and cooperative. I recommend you treat him well too. Act like we are all making the best of a very difficult situation."

"And what about Martin?" asked Otto at last. "I think he is becoming unreliable as regards Brehmer."

"So do I," agreed Ursula, "but Martin is not about to change sides...nor is Brehmer. They are patriots. That is why I say: treat the girl and Brehmer well. But don't overdo it! Then they will suspect the worst. Just be even-handed, that's all. Can you do it?"

"Yes, damn it! I can do it," swore Otto petulantly. "I can do much better than you think, Ursula!"

"I hope that is true, Otto," said Ursula. "I really do. Because unless we both do very well indeed we are going to end up dead quite soon. And no one will even remember our names."

Otto felt the chill wind playing over them, winding its way through the trees that stood dark around the cabin, and shivered. He smelled wood smoke.

"Let's go inside," he said, and he turned toward the cabin. Ursula took one last breath of the deep pine forest and followed him in to the light and warmth.

Martin had brewed tea. You could always depend on Martin. "You'll make someone a fine wife someday, Martin," quipped Ursula.

Martin chuckled. "Why thank you, Madame Commandant! I look forward to that with great anticipation, I can assure you. After the war I shall marry in the most lavish way humanly possible, with dancers and a Mexican band, and you, Ursula, you shall dress in full uniform and be my 'best man'. What do you say?"

"Ha!" she scoffed. "I'll tell you this, Martin. If we are still both alive when it's done, I'll do anything you say." she answered. "Even that."

"Excellent," exclaimed Martin. "Here's to survival, ladies and gentlemen...and an early Spring. Hot drinks all around."

"Here's to victory!" said Ursula, raising her mug, and the others joined in with her toast...but Brehmer hesitated, when he saw the conflicted look in Kathryn's eyes, and lowered his mug. Their victory could not possibly be hers, and he would sooner or later have to choose...one or the other.

"Perhaps life is not about victory at all," he thought. "Perhaps it is about something else entirely...something much finer and more enduring than what people call 'victory'."

- LH

---

03 Feb 04 - 10:06 PM (#1108737)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos

The building was still smoldering when Chongo got there. Amidst the fire trucks and police cars he poked and prodded, sifted the debris through his fingers. Drecker was there as well.
"So what are your boys telling you, Lance?"
"Well after somebody finally figured they were deaf from the blast they brought out their pad and pencil. They were watching this place last night. A small delivery truck pulled up, the guy delivered a small package, but didn't go inside. Took his lunch break and then drove off. Minutes later the whole place went up."
"And they never saw anybody come or go from the place aside from the delivery truck?" said Chongo.
"Nobody. Whoever was in there went up with the building. Not a stitch left of them. Just debris."
"Sometimes I pity you Lance."
"How do you figure?"
"You figure this is the end of the chase, don't you?"
"Well that was the last building they could have been in and its just a crater now, so yeah I guess it's over.
"Sorry Lance, you and your boys got taken. I pity you because you only have half the sense of smell that I have. There isn't a trace of burned flesh or fresh meat. Chongo stood quietly for a moment. "Actually I guess you should pity me that I can smell such things even in the smallest amounts."
Chongo then smiled up at Drecker, "How long have you been walking the beat and you've never run into some joker playing three card monty."
A light dawned in Drecker's eyes. He threw his unlit dog end on the ground and muttered "Shit!"
Chongo would have laughed but it was supposed to have been inaudible.
"Let me guess, Chongo said, "they didn't think to get the license, not that it matters because it was probably stolen, the driver was pretty much non-descript and the truck had no markings and was painted just like any other delivery truck around here."
"That about sums it up," Lance said turning his back and walking back toward his car. "What do we do now?"
Chongo shrugged. "It's their move now."

---

03 Feb 04 - 10:28 PM (#1108739)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Rapparee

"Doctor Fermi?" asked the big man in the doorway. "Can we come in?"

"Sure, Ed. You too, John. Sit down, sit down. Coffee?"

"No, thanks." Ed North rushed right into it. "You've heard about the bodies? The ones Groves sent us out to check on?"

"Yes. He thought it might be radiation poisoning. Nonsense, of course."

"It's not," said John South. "It's 100 percent real radiation poisoning. The geiger counter went nuts during the autopsies."

Fermi was quiet. For quite some time.

"How?" he finally asked.

"We don't know. But there are fourteen dead primates out there, and all of them dead of radiation poisoning. And that's way, way too many for coincidence."

Fermi stared at the wall beyond the two men. "We'll have to let Groves know at once. There has to have been a major breach of security here. We're the only place with that much radioactive materials."

"Shit," he added and waved the two men out. "I've suddenly got lots of work to do." He picked up the scrambler phone, dialed.

"Leslie?" he said asked. "Enrico. If you're not busy, I've got some really awful news for you, and I'm coming up right now. Well, I suggest that you cancel your meeting, because this is big and won't keep."

---

04 Feb 04 - 07:39 PM (#1109572)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Rapparee

He listened. Leslie Groves was good at that. Fermi was right, as usual. This was big news, and very bad news indeed.

He picked up his scrambler phone, called a number.

"Franklin? Leslie. I'm flying to Washington now and I have to see you as soon as I get there. It's about this Metallurgy Lab here in Chicago, the one that's doing things for that Manhattan Engineering Project, you'll remember. We've had some unexpected casualties, I'm afraid."

He frowned with obvious distaste and continued.

"I suppose that we'll have to tell J. Edgar. You might want to have him sit in on the meeting. I should be there, in, oh, five hours. Right. Goodbye."

He hung up.

Damn, damn, DAMN! Keeping this quiet was going to be a real problem.

There was a knock.

"Chief?"

"I told you not to call me that!" Then he looked up. It was Larry Ellison, his secretary. "Sorry, Larry. What's up?"

"There been an explosion down in the lakeside docks area. I'm afraid that the police...well, it might be linked to us."

Double damn, double damn, double DAMN!!

---

05 Feb 04 - 12:07 AM (#1109715)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Ursula drove back to Chicago and ditched the truck in a handy parking lot, next to a lineup of similar vehicles. She also got rid of the green uniform. The short wig she kept. It might come in handy again soon. Her blonde hair was now chestnut brown, and pulled tightly back. She could have been a legal secretary or something like that...the straight-laced, businesslike type from all appearances. First thing was, get a moderately priced hotel room, not too far from Stagg Field. Then start working on whatever useful angle she could come up with. There had to be a way to get into that place, and she only had to do it once.

* * * * *

Otto followed Ursula's advice, and went easy on Brehmer and the others. Not too easy, mind you, but he avoided being unnecessarily difficult about anything. That was a pleasant change as far as everyone was concerned. They put it down to Otto's absolute relief at escaping the police dragnet and being relatively safe for a bit. Still, Otto was moody, and he went off for long walks. Something was eating at him, that was clear, and it most likely had to do with Ursula.

Kathryn and Brehmer got a fair bit of time to talk quietly together, and he told her a good deal about his youth in Germany and his experiences early in the war. It was evident to Brehmer that most Americans considered Hitler to be a dangerous lunatic, and it puzzled him no end. He tried to explain to her that Hitler had brought stability and prosperity to a desperate nation, and given it pride again, but he had a hard time justifying certain things...such as the attack on Poland in '39, and the absorbing of Czechoslovakia into the Reich, and the bombing of Rotterdam, among other things. Brehmer's general impression was that Hitler's hand had been forced on those matters, but the Americans certainly didn't see it that way. Then there was the matter of the Jews. Brehmer hadn't given it a whole lot of thought up till now...he wasn't a political type by nature...but Kathryn had him thinking about it, and she was raising some thorny questions in his mind that had no good answers he could come up with. He knew that many, many people had been arrested, and their property destroyed or confiscated. He knew that many others had been forced to leave before the war, and when it came right down to it he didn't know why. Brehmer had no reasons of his own to dislike Jews. They hadn't caused him any trouble.

"What about the Duce?" he asked Kathryn. "Do you like him any better than Hitler? After all, you are half-Italian..."

Kathryn made a face. "He's a horrible man, always sticking out his big chin arrogantly like that! I think he's an egomaniac and a complete scoundrel. Look at this picture, for heaven's sake!" She pointed to a photo of Mussolini addressing the Fascists in a copy of Life Magazine that lay on the table.

Brehmer took a good look. He screwed up his face, as if concentrating very hard, and turned the picture this way and that way. "Hmmmm...Kathryn, you may in fact be right. He actually does look quite decidedly arrogant. Let me see if I can match this stance..." He stood up on a chair, so as to gain an impressive height, put his hands on his hips, puffed out his chest and stuck his chin way out, just like the Duce haranguing the masses, and launched into a barrage of quasi-Italian gibberish.

Kathryn raised her hand to her mouth and burst out laughing. Martin sauntered in, and did a double-take. "My God, it's the Duce himself! In our humble abode! What an honor! Imperial Rome lives again in the unlikely frame of Jurgen Brehmer, itinerant war hero in search of enlightenment."

Jurgen stuck his chin out threateningly, glowered at Martin and launched into more bogus Italian phrases.

"Oh, stop!" said Kathryn, gasping for breath. "You're assassinating my mother language. It's dreadful!" She pitched a pillow at Brehmer and it bounced off his head. He frozed in mid-declaration with a shocked look and pantomimed falling slowly from the balcony into the street below.

"Now you've done it," said Martin, shaking his finger at Kathryn severely. "A clear assassination attempt on the Great Man, a veritable Caesar of our times...."

"But where are his legions?" asked Brehmer, with a smirk. He resumed his seat on the couch. "Tagging along after General Rommel, what's left of them. You know, they sent a couple of squadrons to fight alongside us over Britain in 1940. I would not criticize the pilots. A spirited bunch of fellows and quite gallant....but they were flying dreadfully antiquated aircraft. Fiat biplanes, if you can believe it! Maneuverable as hell, but terribly slow...and those clunky little humpbacked Fiat G.50 fighters. Really a bad design, and mounting only two 30 caliber machine guns, against Spitfires and Hurricanes armed with eight 303's apiece! They were totally out of their league. They didn't even have modern navigational equipment for finding their way back in the bloody fog over England and the channel. It's a wonder they didn't all get killed first time out."

"How many times did they go out?" asked Martin.

"Two or three, as I recall. Then they gave it up and stood down and went back to the Med. The only sensible thing to do. I understand that Mussolini has sent a few squadrons to Russia more recently. Poor souls! I pity them."

"I pity anyone in that mess," said Martin.

"Where are Otto and Bruno?" asked Brehmer, changing the subject.

"Bruno is out there chopping wood, I believe. We need plenty of it. Otto has gone for another one of his solitary walks. He's chewing hard on something, but I couldn't say what it is."

"Hmmm. You've noticed the change, Martin? Otto's been different lately. He's almost nice to us. I wonder what he is up to."

"So do I, Brehmer, so do I."

Later Brehmer had a word alone with Martin. They were standing underneath a towering white pine that stood back of the cabin, Martin having his occasional smoke, and Brehmer abstaining.

"What would you do in my position?" asked Brehmer. "Do you think Otto would kill her?"

Martin sighed. "Frankly? Yes. She knows too much now, and he's not even bothering to prevent her from knowing. She knows our names, and much of your background. That alone makes her far too big a liability from Otto's point of view."

"But she knows nothing of the 'project'."

"No. Still, if I were you...in love with that girl...I would get her out of here." Martin threw down his butt and ground it out with his heel.

"If she is gotten out, she'll go straight to the American authorities. Then what?"

"That's true," agreed Martin. "Look, Brehmer...here is how I see it. This mission cannot succeed anyway. It's a million to one chance. Even if it did succeed it wouldn't stop the Americans, it would just slow them down a little. You've seen the immense size and strength of this country. My opinion...this project will get us all killed for nothing. Ursula intends to blow up that lab under Stagg Field. I doubt she can succeed, but she will try. She will most likely be killed in the attempt. Then they'll find the rest of us, soon enough. If they do, I expect we will all end up being shot or hanged as spies. It's a lousy situation, with no good ending."

"And the war? We have our duty to fight as best we can."

"I hate to say it, Brehmer, but I think the war is lost. Russia is not going to fall, and America is coming in full force. It's just a question of numbers. Add them up and you'll see."

"I don't want to believe that," protested Brehmer. The very thought was agony to him.

"I know you don't," replied Martin sadly, "but I told you...it's just a question of numbers. We can't beat this country AND the British AND the Russians. It simply can't be done. The Japanese are already falling back in disarray. They shot their bolt at Midway, six months ago. Rommel has had it in Africa. He'll be driven off the continent in another few months at best. Then the Allies will assault Italy. It's as plain as day. There is nothing ahead but a slow grind to defeat and disaster. I didn't think so last summer, but I see it now."

"So what are you telling me? What are you saying, Martin?"

"Get out, Brehmer. You and Kathryn, get out now. Soon. Before it's too late. There is going to be a life after this war for those who survive it. Think about that. Look to your future, not to fighting battles that can't be won."

Brehmer took some time to digest that. He felt tied up in knots thinking about it, but he had to admit that Martin was most probably right, and Brehmer's priorities were changing lately. Going back to his squadron was just a dream. It wouldn't make any difference even if he did. Just one more lamb to the slaughter.

"I understand you," he said at last. "And I believe you are right. So, what are you going to do, Martin? What will you do if Kathryn and I make a break for it?"

"Pretty much the same thing as you," said Martin. "And it had best be at the same time. Can you fly any airplane, do you think?"

"Absolutely."

"Good. I have an idea, then, that may work...and we can all get off this sinking ship before it's too late. Then we go south, Jurgen, to Latin America. There are many possibilities down there for people with a good head on their shoulders."

* * * * *

---

06 Feb 04 - 10:42 AM (#1110756)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Chongo had investigated the matter of the missing girl, Kathryn McConnell. He got an excellent description of the young guy she'd been dating from the other girl, Norma, who worked at the store. Norma wasn't the brightest light in town, but she'd been quite observant of Kathryn's boyfriend, and had exchanged a few words with him now and then when he came to the store. She said he was a Pole. Wally Krupinski. Chongo doubted that. The guy was almost certainly one of the German agents they were looking for. Norma hadn't seen the other guy, the older one, and that was unfortunate, but the Orangutan and at least one other ape had seen him, and their descriptions matched perfectly. He was forty-ish, receding hairline, glasses, average build, kinda looked like an accountant or a smalltime lawyer or loan shark. A sour, kinda serious-looking Roscoe. Not a guy you'd crack too many jokes with. Chongo figured if he ever got close to this guy he could identify him by scent. He'd noted the scent of several individuals in their original hideout.

Drecker was still sifting through the debris over at the exploded warehouse, but hadn't found much. One bright note. The missing truck had been found, sitting apparently abandoned in a parking lot. Chongo got a good look at it and checked it for scent. Sure enough, the same people had been in the back as had been in the hideout near where the dead apes were found buried, and the McConnel girl too, so she had still been alive at that point. And a woman had been driving up front, not a young man! Whoever she was, she wasn't taking any chances being spotted. Must be a real pro. Chongo had noted a faint trace of her perfume, and filed that away for future reference. He'd caught a whiff of the same stuff over at the hideout, but couldn't smell any by the flattened warehouse...too much smell of smoke and burning there.

Drecker figured he had a lead on the guy with the glasses, who must be the one in charge, Chongo figured. It seemed he'd been running a part-time engraving business a while back. His few customers had known him as a Mr "Svenson". That had to be an alias. Someone else remembered one of Svenson's associates...a dutch guy named Van Schelde. That had to be another alias. They described him as an affable fellow with a gift for the gab. There was a third guy, a big guy. He liked to bet on the horses. The pieces were filling in now, bit by bit. And then there was young "Krupinski". He liked to walk, and was in terrific shape.

Only thing was, they seemed to have vanished off the face of the earth since the explosion. That meant they were either lying very low...or they'd left Chicago entirely. But the truck had been abandoned in town. So they'd either changed vehicles or at least one of them was still around.

One thing for sure...these people had a special interest in the Manhattan Project. That meant they would be back. Chongo decided that the best thing to do was to stay close to Stagg Field and keep his eyes open. Sooner or later the bees would come back to the honey, and that's when he'd nab them. Drecker agreed. Stagg Field and the few blocks in its near vicinity was the place to watch.

They got together for a coffee at Lucy's. Drecker was driving the bananamobile again and it stood outside, drawing admiring glances from those passing simians who were in the know.

"So, whaddya think about the McConnel girl?" said Drecker, lighting up his third smoke. "Is she some kind of agent?"

"Naw," said Chongo. "Not a chance. I checked it out every which way. She's just a nice local girl who got drawn in somehow without knowing beans about it. Must've fallen for the young guy hard. Judging by what that ankle Norma says, the kid fell for her at least as hard in return. Norma would have given her eye teeth if he'd fallen for her instead. It ain't hard to see that."

"Yeah," said Drecker. "Only now I bet she's changed her mind. You know what I think? I think the guy with the glasses is the boss. He got scared after we found those bodies, and he beats it over there in a panic, says something he shouldn't of said, and figures he has to take the girl."

Chongo nodded. "Yeah. That's how I figure it too. Then they make a quick move to that warehouse and hunker down. Then they get wise to us closin' in, and they get out fast and try to make it look like they all got blown to smithereens. You find anything at all that can help over there?"

"All we've found is the remains of some bomb and detonator materials and a few half-burned documents that got blown clear of the fire. It's espionage stuff all right. They've been spying on military production lines and other stuff, but there's nothin' that'll help us find them at this point."

"I don't think we hafta find 'em," said Chongo. "They'll come to us. We just watch all around Stagg Field. I'll tell ya somethin' else. I got a whiff of the driver, the woman. If I get close to her, I'll know it. She seems to have a gift for disguise, but you can't fool the old nose."

Drecker smiled. "Regular hound dog, you are."

"Just call me 'Bowzer'," said Chongo.

---

06 Feb 04 - 11:00 AM (#1110770)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Editors note: (here is some of the history behind the project at Stagg Field)


The incident
at Stagg Field

by MIKE MOORE

On December 2, 1942, the world changed, though hardly anyone knew it. In a squash court under the abandoned West Stands of Stagg Field at the University of Chicago, a handful of men and one woman achieved the first controlled release of atomic energy. The story of that day has been told often in books, articles, and on film. Arthur Holly Compton, a Nobel laureate and cosmic-ray physicist at the University of Chicago who headed the chain-reaction project, later said the experiment ushered in "a new age." But in almost the same breath, he described the experiment with a "pile" of graphite and uranium as "only an incident."

Compton, one of the world's great scientists, was not confused. He was getting at a vital but poorly understood point: The symbolic meaning of the first manmade self-sustaining nuclear chain reaction far outdistanced its experimental meaning. Something distinctly new had been accomplished December 2. Nevertheless, it was not quite the "birth of the atomic age," as so many have suggested over the years. Nor was it the pivotal moment in the atomic bomb project.

As a piece of science, the December 2 experiment was one milestone in an already sprawling and multifaceted project geared toward producing an atomic bomb in time to affect the outcome of World War II.

In September 1939, Hitler's air and ground forces eviscerated Poland as easily as a hunter might gut a deer. England and France quickly declared war. Prematurely, said many in the United States. Hitler's invasion of Poland constituted a "phony war." Now that Poland had fallen and Hitler had acquired additional "living space" on his eastern frontier, an uneasy calm would return to Europe-if England and France would act with prudence, and if the United States would hold its fire. The United States must remain neutral.

A handful of scientists in the West-emigrés from Germany and Hungary and other European nations that had taken on fascist trappings-would have no part of such isolationist nonsense. They had seen the Nazis and, in Italy, the fascists close up. They believed that Hitler and his tag-along, Mussolini, intended to build a new order on a foundation of bones and blood. German technology and industry would assist Hitler. But German science could prove even more decisive. It might produce a superweapon-a uranium bomb. With that, a Third Reich could be created- and maintained.

In late 1938, German scientists had demonstrated that when uranium, the heaviest natural element, was bombarded with neutrons slowed by a "moderator," some of the uranium atoms would split into two lighter elements. Niels Bohr, among others, noted that considerable energy-although thus far on a laboratory scale-was released in the process. The tight-knit world of nuclear scientists was set abuzz. By the end of 1939, nearly a hundred scholarly papers dealing with nuclear fission had been published, and many physicists had come to believe that if the energy released by fissioning could be controlled, a new source of power would become available.

Fission power could be benign. It might drive generators that would bring electricity-charged abundance to the world. But three Hungarians then living in the United States- Leo Szilard, Eugene Wigner, and Edward Teller-believed that Hitler's scientific stars were rather more likely to produce a bomb. In the summer of 1939, they asked Albert Einstein, a pacifist, to call nuclear energy to the attention of President Franklin D. Roosevelt.

Although no longer on the cutting edge of physics, and wholly oblivious to the recent ferment over fission, Einstein was the world's most famous scientist. His name carried weight. It was "conceivable," Einstein wrote FDR, that uranium could be fashioned into "extremely powerful bombs of a new type."

The President's Advisory Committee on Uranium was formed in October, under the leadership of Lyman J. Briggs, director of the National Bureau of Standards. Although Briggs quickly came to believe that nuclear energy was a promising field of research, he was near retirement and, in any event, not given to boldness. He provided little leadership in the nation's embryonic nuclear program.

For nearly a year and a half after the formation of the committee, nuclear research remained almost wholly uncoordinated. It was largely conducted on a small scale at universities from the Atlantic (Columbia) to the Pacific (the University of California at Berkeley). Although little government funding was forthcoming, the universities were often relatively generous in underwriting their own projects.

Progress in understanding nuclear physics was rapid. By early 1941, it was well understood that if enough refined natural uranium of high purity-a "critical mass"-could be brought together in one place and with the right arrangement, and if the neutrons emitted by the fissioning uranium could be slowed by a moderator such as graphite, additional fissioning would occur on such a scale that a self-sustaining chain reaction would take place.

It was further understood that uranium 238, the most common isotope of uranium, would not sustain a chain reaction. Rather, uranium 235, an isotope associated with 238 at a ratio of one to 139, would get the job done by emitting more neutrons than it absorbed. Finally, it had become clear to a few physicists that if a workable bomb could be made, it would be made with kilogram quantities of uranium 235. Rather than employ "slow" neutrons, a bomb would rely on unmoderated "fast" neutrons to produce a near-instantaneous chain reaction.

But separating uranium 235 from 238 was a daunting theoretical and technical task. They were so similar in atomic structures that obtaining uranium 235 in anything other than microscopic quantities presented staggering technical problems.

By the spring of 1941, key members of the Roosevelt administration anticipated that the United States would shortly go to war, and military preparations were increasing at a rapid pace. Research, development, and production priorities had to be set and then rigidly enforced. Nuclear science was intriguing, but financial and intellectual capital could not be wasted on intensive research and development in any field unless there was a high probability that it would help win the coming war. Unless nuclear science could pass that test, it would go to a back burner until after the war.

In April 1941, Vannevar Bush, under whose leadership America's vast but disparate scientific enterprise was being organized for war, asked the National Academy of Sciences (NAS) to evaluate the short-term military usefulness of nuclear energy. The University of Chicago's Compton chaired the NAS committee charged with the task. By fall, Compton's answer was that a bomb of "superlatively destructive power" possibly could be produced within three to five years. His report supported, at least in broad outline, the conclusions of British scientists, who were lobbying their American colleagues to build a uranium bomb.

By December 6, 1941, the eve of Pearl Harbor, a decision had been made: the United States would forge ahead on atomic-bomb research at a greatly accelerated rate. The final decision to go flat out on developing and building the bomb was made six months later, months before the Chicago pile achieved criticality.

The atomic bomb work defined what would be called today a "fast-track" project. Key elements were planned and financial commitments were made long before the theoretical and developmental work had been completed.

By early 1942, Harold Urey at Columbia University was directing a rapidly expanding program to separate uranium 235 from 238 through gaseous diffusion. Eger V. Murphree, a vice president of Standard Oil Development Co., was supervising an effort that would separate the isotopes with mechanical centrifuges. At the University of California at Berkeley, Ernest Lawrence concentrated on isotope separation through electromagnetic means, a program that eventually produced the calutron, a Lawrence-ism inspired by combining the words California and university with his own cherished invention, the cyclotron.

Meanwhile, Compton had been charged by Vannevar Bush with designing the bomb itself (a task that was soon to be taken up by J. Robert Oppenheimer) while developing something wholly new-the making of a new transuranic element called "plutonium" in a production reactor.

The uranium experiments that had been conducted by Leo Szilard and Enrico Fermi at Columbia since 1939 had been designed principally to explore the properties of uranium 235. But once researchers working elsewhere learned that neutron bombardment turned a portion of uranium 238 into 239-which quickly decayed to neptunium 239 and then to plutonium 239-a second route to producing a bomb opened up. Plutonium had fissioning properties similar to uranium 235, making it a candidate to form the explosive core of an atom bomb.

By the summer of 1942, there were, as Compton liked to say, "four horses in the race." A bomb might ultimately be fashioned around uranium 235, which would be separated from uranium 238 either by gaseous diffusion, by centrifuging, or by Lawrence's electromagnetic process. Alternatively, a bomb might be made with a core of plutonium that had been produced in a chain-reacting pile and then separated chemically.

It would have been reasonable for Compton to have based his plutonium project at Columbia or Princeton or Berkeley, schools at which sophisticated work in nuclear physics had already begun. But Compton chose his own school, the University of Chicago, which was only beginning to explore the field. Chicago had lab space, bright students, and it was far from the coasts, which might eventually be attacked. In his book, Atomic Quest, Compton recalls Lawrence's reaction to that decision:

"You'll never get the chain reaction going here. The whole tempo of the University of Chicago is too slow."

Compton bet Lawrence that a chain reaction would be accomplished by the end of the year. The stakes: a five-cent cigar. Compton won, with nearly a month to spare.

The Metallurgical Laboratory (Met Lab) was established at the university in February 1942. Although it was initially staffed by a small crew, it grew quickly. At its peak, the Met Lab employed about 5,000 people scattered among 70 research groups around the country. But despite the project's size and complexity, it's likely that most people think first of one man: Enrico Fermi, a Nobel laureate who had arrived in the United States in January 1939 with his family, refugees from fascist Italy.

Although Fermi's research interests were broad, for several years in Italy he had focused on the nature of artificial radioactivity and the effect that neutron bombardment had on various elements. He would continue his work at Columbia University, where he was joined, in an often uneasy partnership, by Szilard. When Compton moved the Fermi-Szilard chain-reacting pile project to Chicago in early 1942, Fermi did not complain. Szilard, however, protested, often and loudly; he liked New York better than Chicago.

Albert Wattenberg, a young man when he worked with Fermi on building the first self-sustaining pile (see page 40), had enormous respect for Fermi's accomplishments. Apparently, so did all of Fermi's colleagues. They were in awe of his science; he was clearly a frontrunner in nuclear physics, if not the point man. In preparing for a talk earlier this year at a meeting of the American Association for the Advancement of Science, Wattenberg checked the indexes of four physics texts. "Einstein," said Wattenberg, "averaged about six references per book, and Niels Bohr, who was the father of atomic theory, only four. Fermi averaged 16."

Fermi had a prodigious memory, and not just for numbers. He was said to have memorized long sections of the Divine Comedy and other books of poetry. But it was in his work that his mental powers seemed most startling. Says Wattenberg: "During the war when we were working together, I probably measured the cross-sections for about 70 different elements [to discover their ability to absorb neutrons]. In the course of discussions, when something came up, Fermi remembered, off the top of his head, all of the values of those cross-sections."

But perhaps the characteristic that most endeared Fermi to his colleagues and assistants was that, unlike Szilard, he did not mind getting his hands dirty. William Sturm, who after the war became a researcher and administrator at Oak Ridge and Argonne National Laboratories, was a 24-year-old graduate student at the University of Chicago when he met Fermi.

Sturm was about to be inducted into the army. His job would be to join the bustling and vital Anglo-American radar-development team in England. Sturm visited Compton, his dean, to say goodbye. Compton said that, yes, radar was important, but that Enrico Fermi had just arrived on campus and he was looking for some good people to work with him on an exciting project. Why not look Fermi up?

Sturm dashed around the physics department, asking where Fermi could be found. He was finally directed to the department's machine shop. "I saw a few students and machinists I knew," recalls Sturm. "And across the room was a big band saw with big clouds of black dust coming from it. That was Fermi. He was sawing graphite."

Fermi seemed to be expecting Sturm. He stopped his work, sat down on a window sill, and for five or 10 minutes matter-of-factly laid out what he proposed to do at Chicago. The team he was putting together would first develop a self-sustaining chain reaction in a graphite-moderated uranium pile. If possible, they would then design a plutonium-production reactor that would generate fissile material for bombs.

As secrecy and "compartmentalization" later enveloped the mushrooming multi-site atomic bomb project, such a free-wheeling "uncleared" discussion would have been nearly impossible to imagine, much less to engage in.

But in the spring of 1942, Fermi was focused on the careful, step-by-step process that would be needed if the United States was to actually make a device that might end the war. The first major step was to assemble a chain-reacting pile and make it "go."

Today, after more than 40 years of a nuclear arms race, it's difficult to recreate the idealistic spirit that animated the original bomb project. If anyone should have such terrible weapons, reasoned scientists like Albert Einstein, Leo Szilard, Eugene Wigner, Edward Teller, Enrico Fermi, J. Robert Oppenheimer, Ernest Lawrence, Arthur Holly Compton, and-eventually- thousands more, it should be the United States, not Nazi Germany.

After the conclusion of the December 2 experiment, Wigner produced a bottle of Chianti that he had tucked away in a brown paper bag. Chianti was appropriate, Wigner said later, because Fermi was Italian. "Even though our hearts were by no means light when we sipped our wine around Fermi's pile," Wigner wrote in 1962, "our fears were undefined, like the vague apprehensions of a man who has done something bigger than he ever expected to."

Some 33 months after the group had finished off the Chianti bottle, bombs "of a new type" fell on two Japanese cities, chosen principally because they had not yet been destroyed by Gen. Curtis Lemay's strategic bombing campaign. Being relatively intact, Hiroshima and Nagasaki would clearly show the effects of the new devices.

One bomb had a fissile heart of uranium 235, the other of plutonium. Upwards of 100,000 men, women and children died, some instantly, others in the minutes and hours and weeks and years that followed. The Japanese quickly sued for peace.

---

06 Feb 04 - 01:09 PM (#1110842)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: GUEST,Officer McLagen

For a pretty close match to Drecker's yellow caddy, look at this beauty...

http://cgi.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewItem&item=3172910695&category=2582&ssPageName=Merch06

---

06 Feb 04 - 11:52 PM (#1111173)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos

General Groves had had to catch a red eye military flight back to Chicago, traveling incognito so as not to attract too much attention even from his own beloved Army. He'd flown out early to Washington to report to President Roosevelt about the problems with lab security. Roosevelt had damn near handed him his ass. But after cooling down had observed that even the best laid plans of mice and men err oft go astray. Groves had suggested that because of the potential for collateral damage should the spies be able to penetrate security that maybe the lab should be moved. Roosevelt was tired, very tired. He just sighed and told Groves to carry on where he was.
"It's too late in this war to stop and move," he said, "we know they're working on the same idea.
At this time intelligence tells me we're ahead of them. If they get there first there's no telling how the war will go. We may have them beat hands down with numbers of troops and the ability to turn out the machinery of war, but if they can threaten any city in the U.S. with the extreme destruction that our scientists tell us these bombs are capable of...well then I just don't know."
"Get on back to the project General. All you can do is your best and I trust you to do that."

General Groves saluted Roosevelt and Roosevelt returned it with a small smile. "Good Luck General."

Groves dozed off during the flight only to dream of American cities going up in flames. Chicago, New York, Washington D.C., the military bases in Hampton Roads. Everywhere dead bodies, charred and burned by radiation, survivors pleading for help with Groves helpless to assuage the poison that was killing them before his eyes. And all the while vague images of small chimps watching him. He dozed fitfully and woke with tears on his cheeks. He had to ensure that the Nazis didn't stop the project and that they didn't get the bomb themselves. And God forbid that the Japanese should get the bomb from the Nazis.

Groves didn't bother going back to his quarters when he arrived back in Chicago. He did his best to make himself comfortable in his desk chair and caught as much sleep as possible before the morning arrived. He figured he had one last shot at doing something about the spies. A long shot at best but he had to go for it.

The changing of the guard at the lab woke him the next morning. He'd saved at least an hour by not returning to his quarters. It was time to put that time to good use. The General grabbed his phone and placed a call to Chongo.
"I think I've got something here. Can you get down here before work begins at seven? Good. I'll meet you at the entrance to the labs."

Chongo hit the streets running and arrived a short time later. Groves had just had enough time to wash up and shave. Being a good General meant having a spare uniform or two in the office locker in case of unannounced visits by the higher-ups. Groves was almost always assured that he'd never have a problem with the image that he portrayed.

"Okay General, fill me in on your idea and let's see where it goes," Chongo said, "and I hope it goes somewhere because I'm fresh out of ideas other than sitting around and waiting for them to attack.
"Well Chongo, I got to thinking about our situation. The chimps that the spies used didn't just wander around looking for things. They were put in specific shafts that lead to certain areas. That tells me that security had already been compromised to a certain extent before the chimps were used."
"And now with the chimps gone you figure that whoever managed to get in here before might try again but this time they might bring a bomb with them?" Chongo asked grimly.
"That and if they got through once they might have been here several times. The warehouse that was blown up. The papers said that the police had a reliable source that no-one had been inside when it went up. By the way, they're saying that it was a gas leak that caused the explosion. "I figure that you're the source the police were quoting?"
"Probably so," Chongo said.
"Well if your sense of smell is that good then you can probably pick up the scents of our workers and any guests that might have been admitted. Since you also went to the cabin I figure you might be able to find out which rooms they were in, and from there we might be able to figure out who their sponsor was. Once we know that we can probably get a physical description. Hopefully that will lead us somewhere."
"Sounds like a great idea to me General. Let's get moving before the staff gets in here and overpowers any lingering scents."

General Groves didn't waste time taking Chongo to rooms that hadn't been infiltrated by the chimps. They didn't have a lot of time. The scents of the staff were very strong in the rooms so it wasn't easy for Chongo to pick out the underlying traces, but he was beginning to get a nagging at the back of his brain. By the third room he thought he had it.
"General, I think I've got you a lead," he said, "I don't think you're going to like it."
"Give it to me, Chongo, I don't have time for games."
"You were probably figuring on a male? Some dignitary that visited and is working for the other side?"
"I told you we haven't got the time for this, but yes, I did figure that it was male, why?"
"General you've got female troubles."
"Come again?"
"The way I figure it, you've got someone on the staff trying to act the bigshot. He tries to play up how important he is by taking his "girlfriend" around and showing her the place. Whoever it is figured she'd be too dumb to understand and she probably helped him with that illusion. He didn't have a clue that he was giving a guided tour to a Nazi spy. Then scent in these rooms is the same one I smelled faintly in the remains of the warehouse and in the delivery van they used as a getaway car. Check with your guards for female visitors and you'll have your man."

General Groves took Chongo back to his office and consulted with the security detachment. With all of the people filing in it took a little while but he returned to the office with two MPs flanking him, a rather dejected looking Sargent between them.
"Here he is Chongo, here's our leak!"
The sargent looked startled at seeing the chimp, but then just hung his head.
"Does he know what you're talking about General?"
"I haven't let him in on the whole ball game just yet. Gentlemen you are dismissed."
The MPs saluted smartly, performed an about face and left Grove's office with some haste.
"Sargent, this is Chongo."
"Chongo, Sargent Victor James".
"James, Chongo is investigating a spy ring that has penetrated the lab."
Sargent James looked startled and bolted upright in his chair.
"You don't think I'm......You don't think I'd....."
"No Sargent, we know that you're not a spy," Chongo said, "but you know someone who is."
"I'm quite sure that I don't know what you're talking about."
"Your girl, James, the one you escorted through the lab on a "private" unauthorized tour," General Groves growled, "she's a spy and you let her in. You let her case the lab without once thinking about the consequence. Inadvertently you're responsible for the deaths of a dozen or so young primates that they used to further infiltrate the lab. Yeah, that's right! The rumors you heard are true! Now it's payback time. You are going to tell Chongo everything you know about the woman that you showed around here. Every detail of her appearance right down to any birthmarks she might have and I don't care how embarrassing this might be for you. It might sound trite but the fate of the free world may hang on you!"

It was hours before Chongo was done with Sargent James.

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07 Feb 04 - 09:48 AM (#1111352)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Amos

(Great stuff, CC!! Just great!)

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10 Feb 04 - 01:40 PM (#1113492)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Otto had driven into the tiny hamlet of Rockland, Michigan, a few miles from the hideout, to get the latest word from Ursula. It was a terse telegram informing him that she was still "on the job", and nothing more than that. Otto swore, crumpled it up, threw it in the nearest trash bin and headed back to the car. He hated being out of the loop, and intended to do something about it soon.

On his way back he stared morosely at the endless forested wilderness that closed in around both sides of the road. He might as well be in Siberia, he thought, with disgust. They were totally isolated and useless here.

On returning to the cabin he got a surprise upon opening the front door, when he found himself looking straight down the barrel of a gun...Martin's .38 revolver.

"Hello, Otto, we've been expecting you," said Martin, reasonably. "Now if you would just quietly raise your hands..."

Otto stood frozen in shock. A quick glance around the room revealed Bruno, tied securely up in a wooden chair, and Brehmer handling a snub-nosed pistol, which was also pointed straight at Otto. Kathryn was standing beside Brehmer, her eyes shining.

"What in hell is this?" spluttered Otto.

"I'm sorry, Otto," said Bruno, his face red with frustration. "They got the drop on me."

Brehmer had handed his gun to Kathryn and stepped forward. He went through Otto's jacket and removed not one, but two weapons, both Lugers, tucked one of them into his own pockets and kept the other.

"Sit down, Otto," said Martin. "And I shall explain it all."

Otto took a seat. He was pale, and at this point quite speechless with anger.

"You see, Otto, things have reached a point here where they can only get worse," said Martin. "I have considered where we may all go from here, and it doesn't add up to anything good. Number one, I know you would eventually decide to shoot this young woman...no, don't deny it...we haven't time for that now. When you did that, you would surely have to kill Brehmer too...or he would kill you...or maybe I would. Then there's Bruno, who as we all know is a fellow who goes by the book and follows orders. It would come down to him killing Brehmer or Brehmer killing him or...you see what I mean? And for what, Otto? For exactly what? For nothing! This mission is a fool's errand. We cannot get into or stop that atomic project unless we all intend to commit suicide doing it, and that is clearly not going to happen. Ursula thinks she can do it somehow, but I think she's wrong. She may try, but she won't succeed."

Otto finally found his voice. "What do you take me for?" he snarled. "Some kind of monster? I would never kill this girl."

"Yes you would," said Martin calmly. "Just like you did those young apes. I know you, Otto. I will not be complicit in pointless murders that accomplish nothing anyway."

"You are a traitor!" said Otto, his eyes burning with a cold rage. "I'll see you hung on a meat hook for this!"

"I don't think so," said Martin. "Now I'll tell you what we're going to do. We need the car, Otto. Brehmer and Kathryn and I are going on a little road trip, and we won't be back. We are bailing out of this war which is lost anyway. If you don't know it then you're simply denying unpleasant realities. I have no reason to do you any harm and I don't intend to. My advice to you and Bruno is simple. Give it up now. Get out of this country by any way you can. You can't stop that project, but will only get yourselves caught or killed. You've seen the American production figures, and you know it as well as I do, Otto, it's over. Germany can't win this war. I am regretful of that, but I accept realities."

"But we could win it if we had the new weapon!" said Otto fiercely.

"Perhaps," admitted Martin. "But we can't get it. Not you and I, not Ursula, not any of our agents. It can't be done. Therefore, it's a pipedream...unless our scientists in Europe achieve an unexpected breakthrough. I can't count on that happening."

"I should have blown you up in the warehouse," said Otto bitterly. "All three of you."

Martin shrugged. "You would never have managed it. I'm not that stupid."

Otto said nothing, but he thought of Ursula. She could have arranged it. She would have, if he had just taken the bull by the horns.

"Well," observed Martin. "That about sums it up. I didn't think you would prove to amenable to reason, but I thought it fair to let you know where things stand. I have taken the liberty of dipping into the emergency funds. Just enough to allow us to travel. Don't worry, I've left you plenty of cash too. If you're smart, you will buy yourself another car and get moving...anywhere but in the direction of Chicago. As for Ursula...well, Ursula has a way of looking after herself, but I doubt we shall see her again." He got up and buttoned his jacket. "Best of luck, gentlemen!" He gave them a smile, a little bow and a click of the heels. "Otto...Bruno...it's been...interesting, hasn't it? If we all survive the war I'll buy you both a bottle of schnaps or tequila. See you in Montevideo, perhaps? On the beach."

"I'll see you in hell," muttered Bruno darkly, straining at his bonds. As for Otto, he just ground his teeth in impotent fury.

"You should have let me go back to Germany when I wanted to, Otto," said Brehmer pointedly. "I'll give you one last warning. Don't pursue us. Don't even think about it. And don't think of doing anything to Kathryn either or I'll put a bullet through your brain. Do as Martin says and stay well away from us. I will NOT buy you a bottle of schnaps after the war."

Otto glowered back at him wordlessly, imagining all the terrible things he would do to Brehmer. Futile imaginings.

And with that they were out the door. Otto was out of his chair and moving fast for the office when he heard the car doors shutting. He was looking for another gun...but couldn't find one.

"Otto, untie me," yelled Bruno. "I know where they put the rifles."

Too late. By the time Otto had Bruno untied the escapees were well on their way, and Otto was fit to be tied himself.

* * * * *

Brehmer was driving. "Christ! It feels good to be piloting something again, even if it is just a car," he said. And it feels good to be free! Even the air smells fresher!" He laughed for the pure joy and excitment of it, and Kathry was smiling brightly too, although she was wondering just what they would do next.

"Where to, Commander?" asked Brehmer merrily.

Martin smiled. "Never mind about that, this is an association of equals from here on in. You're been discharged, Jurgen. I suggest we go somewhat south, but not too close to Chicago." He studied the map. "Why not make for Madison, Wisconsin? Kathryn, could you drive yourself back to Chicago from Madison?"

"Yes...I could...but...what about...?"

"Jurgen and I shall find other means from there. We can't be seen in this car for very long. Otto and Bruno will walk or ski into town, and then who knows? They will probably get another car and contact Ursula. The safest thing for you to do is...either travel on with us, and that would be very risky, so I frankly don't advise it...or go back to Chicago and put yourself under the protection of the police at once. Only do us a favour and tell them that Brehmer and I are traveling east, if you would. East to the Atlantic coast."

"Yes..." said Kathryn. She was torn. Part of her wanted to stay beside Brehmer, risk or no risk, and face whatever came...the other part told her that she had to go back home at once and do her duty, do whatever she could to stop Ursula and Otto. She had responsibilities that could not simply be walked away from. Things were just not that easy. It was the war again. Damn the war. But without the war, she and Brehmer would never have met. It gave both of them a good deal to think about on the long drive to Madison.

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10 Feb 04 - 05:33 PM (#1113604)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Otto raged around for a few minutes while Bruno busied himself locating the rifles, a couple more handguns, and other necessary gear. Upon investigating the money cache (Berlin had a practice of supplying its spies in the Allied countries with a significant amount of foreign currency, including American greenbacks, both real and counterfeit...) Otto discovered to his fury that there was $15,000 dollars missing...and it was the real stuff. Martin was being exceptionally careful. He had taken no counterfeit bills whatsoever. With $15,000 he and Brehmer could easily get to anywhere they wanted to and have a nice nest egg for the future besides.

It couldn't be helped. He would enlist Ursula's aid, find them, and kill them. That was more important to Otto now than the atomic project. Whether it would be more important to Ursula remained to be seen...she could be infuriatingly single-minded. But she would certainly act to eliminate the girl, should she return to Chicago...and it seemed reasonable that she would...unless she had fallen so hard for Brehmer that she would follow him to South America...anything was possible with these young fools when they fell in love.

Ten minutes later he and Bruno were on skis and heading for Rockland as fast as they could go. Otto wished now that he had been walking daily and keeping in top condition like Brehmer. He was shortly getting very tired. Up ahead of him Bruno was doing much better. Eventually Otto told him not to wait, but get to Rockland and send a telegram to Ursula at once...then rent or steal a car. Otto would make the best time he could and meet Bruno on the road or in Rockland at the post office. Bruno pressed on with the utmost speed and determination and soon left Otto far behind.

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10 Feb 04 - 06:00 PM (#1113613)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Chongo had gotten a phone call from General Grove. It seemed there was someone the general wanted him to meet, but he was mysterious about just who it was. Chongo wondered idly if he was going to meet President Roosevelt himself or maybe J. Edgar Hoover or better yet, the Mighty Joe Young, nephew of Kong. Naw...not likely! It was probably just some other bozo in a suit like that jerk Dickie that Kerchak had disposed of. Some G-Man who secretly or not so secretly hated primates and would be not too subtle about showing it. Chongo pulled on his best trenchcoat and headed out to deal with it.

When he got to General Groves' office and showed his I.D. the guard sent him right on in. Groves appeared to be in a good mood. He offered Chongo a top quality Cuban cigar, then sat there smiling like the cat that had eaten the canary. What was he so damned amused about?

"Chongo," said the General, "we are making some very good progress here. I am confident that we will have those Nazi agents very shortly, and I want to introduce you to someone who can help identify them and nail them to the wall."

Great, thought Chongo. Here it comes. Another 'Dickie'. Try to act nonchalant while you figure out how to work around this guy and still get the job done...

Groves pushed a button on his desk. "Send Agent Mason in."

The door opened and Chongo heard not the step of a man, but the sound of a woman's heels. He turned to look and almost fell off his chair. His little monkey brain did a quick shift past neutral into overdrive, tried to change gears too fast, jammed the clutch, and stalled completely, while his stomach landed with a thump somewhere east of Katmandu.

"Chongo Chimp, may I introduce one of our best agents, Miss Laura Mason, recently back from an assignment in North Africa. Oh, but you have met before, haven't you?" The general was grinning from ear to ear, enjoying his little joke on Chongo enormously.

"We have," said Laura, smiling graciously, "and he's a great dancer. How's business, Chongo?"

It was one of those rare moments when Chongo Chimp was completely at a loss for words.

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10 Feb 04 - 06:46 PM (#1113633)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Laura "M", by god! Same face, same glossy dark hair, a little longer, but still curving in around her perfect jawline, same sculptured cheekbones, same fathomless eyes, same killer legs going all the way up to Everest. Chongo mumbled his way through some kind of greeting and couldn't remember afterward what the hell he had said to her.

Then they got down to business...thank God. Laura had plenty of useful info. It wasn't clear where she'd gotten it, but Chongo didn't particularly care. He had confidence in Laura. The buzzing in his ears was beginning to subside and he began concentrating on the details as she laid them out for him and Groves.

"First of all," she said, "we've got Otto. Otto Kretschmar from the city of Dusseldorf, Germany. Came to North America in '38 and went underground. He is almost certainly in charge of the Chicago cell. Here are some photos."

Chongo took a good look. Nasty looking character with glasses, just the way they'd described the bird that abducted the girl from the cafe/bakery.

"Next we have Martin Bauer, a well-educated man who used to work in the construction industry in Berlin. He's a demolition expert, among other things, and has numerous other talents as well. A very capable fellow."

The pictures this time showed a pleasant-looking fellow with a keen intelligence in his eyes, dressed in a suit and fedora. There was also a photo of him on a construction site, directing some workers in setting up their equipment.

"Bauer also came to America in '38. With him came another man, Bruno Fallenberg. We don't have much information on him, other than that he worked as a machinist before the war."

This was a big guy. He looked like a typical G-Man or carry-outer to Chongo. You saw guys like that every day, but Chongo wouldn't miss this guy if he spotted him.

"And last..." said Laura, "we have Fraulein Ursula Neuhoff, a professional agent for the Nazis since 1933 and a top operative. We don't know when she came to America, and have only recently suspected she was here at all. She was thought to be in Sweden. Miss Neuhoff is a diehard Nazi loyalist and an extremely deadly and effective agent. Do not underestimate her. She'll kill you in a moment if you give her the chance."

This time the pictures showed Chongo something he already knew plenty about. Ursula Neuhoff was a dead ringer for the blonde girlfriend described by the hapless Sergeant Victor James.

"How did you get all this stuff, Laura?" he asked.

"I only got some of it myself, Chongo. I don't work alone by any means. It took years of work by many people to put it all together. Are these our pigeons? Or do I have to ask?"

"If they aren't, I'm a rainbow-nosed baboon," said Chongo. "And I ain't. What about the young guy? The good-lookin' one?"

"He's a bit of a puzzle," said Laura. "We're still looking into it. He doesn't match any profile in our records at this point."

"Well, keep looking," said General Groves. "I believe we'll have these people in our hands within days now that we have these photos. Get to it. Chongo, you need anything, you just tell Miss Mason. And catch those people. I want them alive if at all possible."

"I understand," said Chongo. "I only hope Kerchak does as well..."

"Kerchak?" said Laura, frowning. "I remember him. He's a dangerous customer, as I recall. Doesn't he have it in for you?"

"Yeah, he does...sort of," admitted Chongo, "but he's got other priorities right now. We practically drink out of the same bottle these days. Funny, isn't it?"

"Well, it's certainly convenient," said Laura, flashing a brilliant smile at him. "Okay, I'm still fagged out from flying across the Atlantic, but I'm not too tired for a meal and a drink in a good Chicago restaurant. In fact, I think I'd almost kill for it at this point. You got any ideas on that?"

"I know just the place," said Chongo, feigning great aplomb. He was back on his feet again, hands firmly on the grapevine and ready to pound his chest and yell "Ungawa!". You can't keep a good ape down for long.

"But I ain't dancin' this time," he added, truculently. (Not in public anyway, he thought...whew! Gotta watch these wild fantasies. They could get a chimp in serious trouble one day if he didn't watch it.)

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11 Feb 04 - 03:07 PM (#1114265)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos

Hours later Chongo was still dreaming of the Dinner with Laura. The food had been superb, the band played splendidly, he'd actually begun hoping that Laura would ask him to dance again, just to hold her in his arms. Laura was coy and mysterious and now that Chongo knew she was much more worldly he found her so much more attractive.

She'd asked Chongo to stop over at her apartment on the way to the restaurant so that she could change out of her working clothes and into something a little more appropriate. He'd been as gentlemanly as possible with every fiber of his being screaming to at least go and peak while she changed. When she emerged from
Her room she was wearing a blue chiffon evening gown that accented her eyes and contrasted nicely with her hair. Chongo was dumbstruck. Laura smiled and did a little pirouette for Chongo.
"What do you think?" she asked. Chongo could only nod appreciatively.

After dinner they'd lingered over drinks making small talk until the mait're de shooed them out. Chongo had been so entranced that he hadn't noticed the time fly by. He walked her home through the dark streets, telling her jokes just to hear her laughter. She said goodnight to him in front of the apartment complex. Chongo was disappointed but he hadn't been expecting an invitation for a night cap or even a good night kiss. But you can't blame a chimp for hoping now can you?

So now it was five in the morning and in his dream Chongo was waltzing with his Venus, impossibly high above the ground, across the clouds. As his telephone rang he tripped in his dream and fell to the cloudy floor, through the floor and still falling. He awoke with a start. Reality was too damn insistent!
"Chongo, damn-it! Pick up the phone!" Groves voice growled from the other end.
"Hello General," Chongo replied yawning, "What's up?"
"Chongo, we just got a call from the police dept. about somebody wanting to blow up the University. I think our friends are coming to pay a visit."
Chongo was wide awake an dressing in an instant. "I'll be right there General!" he said hanging up the phone. With one hand checking the load in his .45 he called Kerchak with the other.
Kerchak groggily answered. Chongo thought he heard a woman say "who is it honey?"
Like Chongo, Kerchak sprung out of bed, vengance and adrenalin igniting his blood better than any caffeine from any coffee.
"Kerchak, meet me in front of the University. I've got some friends for you to meet. And bring some of the boys, we might need some help." Chongo didn't wait for an answer.

"It was such a simple plan it just might work," thought Otto under a pile of blankets in the front seat of he sedan "borrowed" from the truck stop that Bruno had found. Otto had continued following the tracks of Bruno's skis for what seemed like hours. He was still not quite defrosted but the truck stop coffee that Bruno had actually payed for was having some effect.

Bruno had called Ursula. Otto was glad that Bruno had done it instead of him. Bruno could stand steadfast through the gale front of any storm and that's just what the first few minutes of the conversation had been like when Ursula found out that Martin, Brehmer and Kathleen had escaped. She ranted and raved about incompetence and what she would do to Otto and Brehmer once they were safely back in the reich for a time and then with supreme effort calmed herself. She said that she didn't think that Martin or Brehmer would betray them but that that "Little Bitch" would just to spite Ursula personally. Time was running out, desperate times calling for desperate measures. Ursula outlined the plan for them.

Since the discreet method was out of the question and they had no time for alternatives, it was time for a frontal assault. Otto was startled and would have protested had he been on the phone. Bruno just grunted assent. She was in charge he knew and if it meant that he would lose his life for the Reich then so be it. There were holes in Ursula's plan and some of it depended on a great deal of luck, but it just might work.
Ursula would meet up with them at a pre-arranged spot and give them the explosives that she had brought with her. She would take some smoke bombs and a couple of small incendiary devices and drop them in the air intake vents that did not lead to the pile. They had barred the vents from intrusion by anything as large as the smallest monkey but since then they had taken no further action in their regard aside from patrolling the area occasionally. With the ensuing smoke and fires in the compound someone would assuredly pull the fire alarm which would cause an evacuation of the compound. Otto and Bruno would acquire wheeled fire extinguishers and hide the explosives on the carts. They would then head for the lab and buffalo their way through the workers that were fleeing the smoke and fire looking like two volunteers trying to put out the fire. After accessing the lab spaces they would plant the explosives. With the alarm bells still ringing they could take care of any individuals that got too nosy with their lugers and not draw attention. Otto and Bruno would drop their disguises, grab lab coats and exit the lab. Ursula would meet them at the parking lot upwind of the lab with enough time to get a few blocks away before the bombs turned the lab into an ungodly radioactive hell for the city of Chicago.

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11 Feb 04 - 03:54 PM (#1114298)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos

Chongo arrived at the University to find Drecker's Cadillac sitting outside on the curb.
General Groves appeared at the entrance of the building and led Chongo to his office.
Drecker seemed very surprised for a moment, but checked his expression as Chongo entered the room.
"Chongo, this is Detective Drecker from the Chicago Police Dept. His office handled the call about the bomb."
"Thank you sir, we've met on occasion," Chongo said with a grin.
"Okay then, go ahead detective."
"Yes sir, at about 3 o'clock this morning our office took a call from a woman tending the switchboard at a hotel on the outskirts of the city. According to her one of the guests at the hotel was a strikingly good looking woman who was reportedly traveling alone. The manager of the hotel was suspicious because their were no "ahem" visitors to her room as would normally be the case. He had the receptionist monitor her phone calls and the receptionist over heard her say something about bombing the university."
Drecker continued, "We sent a squad car over to investigate but the woman had left the hotel and took everything with her. Since we couldn't find any evidence to suggest that she had a bomb or didn't for that matter, we decided to inform you of a possible threat.
"So you think they're on their way General?" Chongo asked.
"Yes, I'd say we're going to have some visitors, at least they won't be unexpected now. Thanks for the warning Detective. I think we'll take it from here.
Chongo escorted Drecker back to his car.
"Is there anything I can do Chongo?"
"Yeah, get the wife and kids and call in sick. Today would be a real good day to go on a trip, call it an extended weekend and take them a few hours north. If this doesn't work out I don't want to think that I failed you or them." Chongo said this without looking at Drecker. Drecker laid his hand on Chongo's shoulder.
"Sounds like a great idea to me, good luck Chongo."

Kerchak hadn't shown up yet but Laura walked in somehow looking no worse for the long night they'd had. "Dames amaze me!" Chongo thought to himself. The General filled her in with what details they had.
"I guess it's a waiting game then," Laura said with a sigh, "Damn I hate waiting!"
"Me too toots, me too," Chongo replied.

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11 Feb 04 - 09:45 PM (#1114548)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Martin and Brehmer put Kathryn on a bus in Madison, having decided she'd be safer that way than in the car, which might be spotted. It wasn't an easy farewell. Martin stood back at the last to give the kids a little time by themselves. They were both looking a bit teary.

"I shall write to you," said Brehmer. "I promise. As soon as I can. Just make sure you get police protection immediately upon your arrival. Promise me that, darling."

"Yes, I will. But how will I know if you're safe, Jurgen? They may be looking for you too."

"Oh, I'm sure they are," he said, "but they won't find me. I will be in Mexico sooner than you can say...'Jack Robertson'"

"It's 'Jack Robinson'," she said, smiling a bit through her tears.

"Oh. Well, 'Jack Robinson', then." Brehmer laughed. "I have so many expressions to learn, but no time to learn them now."

"All aboard for Chicago!" yelled the uniformed driver. "Last call!"

"That's it," said Brehmer. "You must go now." All he could see was her eyes, hazel eyes shining into his mournfully. She caught her breath, embraced him fiercely for a moment. One last kiss. And then she was gone. Brehmer stood for a long time watching as the bus pulled away. He could not have found any words to describe what he felt. Then he heard Martin approaching.

"Don't worry. She'll be all right. Want to break your fast and have a cigarette? It might snap you out of your blue mood."

"No thanks," replied Brehmer. "I've given up on them for good, blue mood or not. So...what is our plan, Martin? Do we drive to Mexico?"

"Not in this car. No, Jurgen, I have a much better idea. There is a civil airport only a few miles from here. We are going to go and buy an airplane there, if we can find a good one, and you are going to fly us to Mexico, my friend. Time you started earning your keep in the way you are best suited for."

"Well...I'll be damned," said Brehmer, raising his eyebrows, "but...just how much money did you take from Otto's cash, Martin?"

Martin smiled. "Fifteen thousand dollars. And it's not counterfeit, either. The real stuff, Jurgen. As for Otto, I left him plenty enough to get himself in further trouble with. I'm not a greedy man, just a practical one."

Brehmer laughed out loud. "You're a very practical man, my friend! Let's go and look at airplanes."

* * * * *

By midafternoon the deal was done. The airfield they flew to had had a handful of planes for sale. Of those, two had interested Brehmer...a Stearman PT-17 that was in nice shape, and much better than that, a Beecraft 18 twin-engine modern aircraft. He checked them over thoroughly, tried out the engines, and took each plane for a short flight, accompanied by the airfield manager, who was impressed by Brehmer's knowledge of airplanes and his enthusiasm for them.

"By God, son, you should be flying for the Army Air Corps," he said. "They need men like you."

Brehmer thanked him, and said he was thinking about it, but he had to clear away some business first. Maybe in the Spring he would volunteer, and get to fly P-38's. (Little did this guy know some of Brehmer's old squadron buddies were probably fighting those same P-38's right now over the Med! They referred to it as "the fork-tailed devil", and had a very healthy respect for the big twin-boom fighter.)

"What do you think?" he said to Martin. "The Stearman is a good plane, and I can set her down anywhere with absolute ease...but the Beechcraft is a magnificent airplane. With that plane you could run a very good business, as long as there are airstrips available to fly to. I just don't want to use too much of our money."

"The Stearman's got open cockpits, Brehmer. Damn cold and windy. You know me, I like my creature comforts. I am going to offer this fellow what I think is a good price, and throw in the car with it. We'll see if he goes for it. If not, we buy the Stearman."

Brehmer nodded. He went over and studied the Beech from one end to the other. It was a truly inspired design in every way.

Ten minutes later Martin came over, smiling broadly. "It's a deal. Jurgen, we are now the proud owners of a Beechcraft 18. I have the papers. Let's get a meal, a room at the nearest motor lodge, and a meal. We fly in the morning."

"Martin," said Brehmer. "You are a wonder."

* * * * *

Kathryn's bus pulled into downtown Chicago at 8 pm. She didn't go home, but caught a cab and went straight to the police station. Fifteen minutes later she was telling her tale to a very interested Detective Lance Drecker. Drecker had followed Chongo's advice and gotten his wife and kids out of town...but not himself. He had no intention of missing the finale if there was to be one, and it looked like there very well might be.

"These two that helped you...why did they do that?" asked Drecker, watching her eyes very closely.

"I'd say it was for several reasons," said Kathryn, looking like she was thinking hard about it. "Number one, they had decided that the whole plot to sabotage that secret project at the University was completely unrealistic and suicidal. They wanted no further part of it."

"Hmmmm..." grunted Drecker, noncomittally. "What were their names?"

"The older man was named 'Van Skelde" or something like that...I don't know his first name...and the younger man is called 'Wally'. Wally Krupinski."

Drecker knew she was covering up something, and he suspected it was because of the young guy. She was sweet on the guy for sure, according to what the girl Norma at the store had said. So she was protecting him.

"You say they were driving Otto's car. Do you know who Otto is? He's a nazi spy commander. His full name is Otto Kretschmar, similar to the name of some ace U-boat commander, but spelled a little differently. He's a very dangerous man."

"I know that," said Kathryn, showing a flash of anger. "I'm not stupid! That's why I've come here to warn you and the government people. Otto and the other fellow are at that cabin, a few miles east of Rockland. If you don't believe me, get the cops up there to check it out."

"Oh, I will," said Drecker. "I will. And don't think I'm not appreciative of your help, Miss McConnell. I am. You say they've been in contact with the female agent...Ursula?"

"Yes. In regular contact. And she is definitely back in Chicago now."

"Yeah. I'd bet on that too," said Drecker. "I need to know a couple more things. Namely...describe the car that you made your getaway in, and see if you can suggest where they might be going in it now."

"It's a maroon-colored 1939 Packard," said Kathryn. (that was a lie...the car was actually a black 1938 Pontiac) "I don't have any idea where they're going. They dropped me off in Madison, and I was grateful to be alive. I didn't ask them any questions I didn't have to."

Drecker wrote it all down and let the clock tick for awhile.

"Is there anything else?" asked Kathryn, when she couldn't stand the silence any longer.

"Yeah. This Krupinski. Wally Krupinski. He was your boyfriend according to Norma, your coworker."

Kathryn flushed a bit. "I...went out with him a couple of times. He was a nice guy. I don't know what he is, but I don't think he's a German spy at all, I think he got caught up in it somehow by accident. That jerk Otto came to the store, pulled a gun on both of us, and forced us into his car. I don't blame Wally for it. What you need to do is stop worrying about Wally and Van-whatever-his-name-is...they're harmless...they saved my life! Worry about Otto and Ursula. They are anything but harmless."

"You got that right," said Drecker. "Okay. It's getting late. I think we can take a break on this, Miss McConnell. I want you to stay somewhere safe until the show is over...which oughta be soon, given the info you've given me about the hideout in Rockland. Don't go back to your store or your apartment.   Don't go to any of the usual places where you would normally be. In fact, I am gonna arrange for a hotel room for you, and have it watched...to protect you, you understand. I want you to stay there and put up with that for at least a few days. We may need you to identify suspects shortly. I'll call you the moment we do."

Kathryn nodded. She felt totally exhausted and wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep somewhere, anywhere, and not answer any more questions.

Drecker got busy. He arranged for the hotel room, detailed two plainclothes men to take Kathryn there and watch the place, and assigned others to stake out her apartment and the store. Something would turn up. He also put out the word on that maroon 1939 Packard, assuming she'd told the truth about that. He was not at all sure she had. But she was probably right...those two guys didn't matter all that much. It was the other ones he had to run down. Otto, Ursula, and Bruno. Might as well pass the word to Chongo too. And then catch a few hours sleep, if he was lucky.

* * * *

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11 Feb 04 - 10:27 PM (#1114566)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos

The hours ticked away with Groves and Chongo smoking havannas waiting for the shoe to drop. Chongo was about to crawl out of his skin. Lunch had come and gone, sandwiches and chips brought in from the commisary. Not bad, and definitely better than the c-rations that the boys were chewing on the continent, much better than going hungry. Bathroom trips were executed as efficiently as possible. No one wanted to miss their chance to stop the "big bang", and nobody wanted to die on the can should the others fail to do so.
Laura came and went between the lab and the college checking with the security forces in place. In an outfit of a nice past the knee skirt and a loose cardigan sweater over a white blouse, she looked just like any coed attending classes. Kerchak had not yet showed. For some reason Chongo was worried about him.

Ursula met Otto and Bruno at a park outside the city. She personally ranted at Otto for awhile, what she'd saved from her conversation with Bruno and then went over the plan again. She had enough explosives to accomplish the demolition of the building which was to be followed by exploding the pile up and out of the remains of the building. Unfortunately she only had a few incendiary devices. She'd have to be very careful in emplying them. It would be fine to catch a file room on fire but accidentally getting one of the radioactive storage rooms would be bad. She wanted to turn Chicago into an unseen fiery hell, but not with her still there. The smoke bombs she had plenty of. They were mostly meant for troop deployment on a battlefield, but she'd thought they might be handy. Together the three of them decided to wait for the evening staff to come in. Otto and Bruno's trip into Chicago had taken all night and a little darkness would help the mission. It would also give Otto and Bruno a chance to get a few winks and Ursula some time to review and smooth out any wrinkles in her plan. She was pretty sure that at least either Bruno or Otto would be killed, maybe both, as long as it wasn't her, no big loss.

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13 Feb 04 - 02:16 PM (#1115360)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos

The attack began soon after dusk. Ursula crept slowly through the long shadows dressed in a multishade gray poncho towards the vents at the base of the wall. Although she didn't know, her presence had been detected by the security force. It wasn't so much that she could be seen. The poncho was doing a very good job concealing her, but the securityman had been well trained and spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. He phoned in to the General who told him to keep a rifle trained on her and see what she did. They wanted her alive with the rest of them and although he could injure her with one shot they wanted all of them and the noise of the shot would scare the others off.

One by one the smoke bombs and incendiary devices went into the vents. Ursula knew that some of them would go straight down to a workspace while others would end up just sitting in the ducting of the vent. She did her best to put the incendiary devices in the former. Mission accomplished she crept back through the shadows and then proceeded to the pre-selected rendezvous point. She'd keep the engine running and wait, although she really didn't expect any company to escape with her.

Kathryn became figity within the first hour in the hotel room. Drecker had ben nice enough but she didn't think that he'd believed her. Here she sat, the only one that knew of the plan and she was trapped! Well maybe not so trapped after all. She checked the look through in the door carefully and sure enough both officers were still there on either side of her door. She then went to the bathroom to check if she'd be able to fit through it. She only gave her doubts aminutes thought before getting the bed sheets and blankets and forming a rope ladder which she tied to the claw foot of the bathtub. Good thing she was only on the second floor. Kathryn had seen enough prison movies to know that it could be done and hadn't she already escaped from her Nazi captors? Well.. with a little help from Brehmer. But seeing and doing weren't quite the same. Kathryn held on for dear life hanging out the bathroom window. With sheer will she went down hand over hand to the alley out back. With luck her escort wouldn't know she was gone for quite awhile. She made her way down to the street corner and caught a bus headed toward the University.

Chongo heard the clink clank clunk coming form the ventilation duct and wondered just what it was that Ursula was sending them. Seconds later he shot across the room yelling "Grenade" and flinging himself on top of it. His life flashed before his eyes. Everywhere he'd been, everyone he'd know, everything he'd done. "Wait a minute, my life's been going through my head for a long time now and the grenade should have gone off by now!", he thought. Chongo opened his eyes and looked around. The General was just standing there. Chongo began to feel a burning sensation in his stomache and could see whisps of smoke curling around his abdomen.
"That was a german smoke bomb Chongo," the Groves said with some amusement as he overturned a trashcan and motioned for Chongo to move. Chongo rolled off the bomb and Groves deflty put the can over it. "Thanks for saving my life though," he said with a grin. The earsplitting din of the fire bells cut in on him like a college jock stealing a weak freshman's girlfriend.
"I think I see their plan," yelled Groves over the din. "If I'm correct the second part of the attack will come in while we're going out!"
They both calmly headed for the exit.

Kathryn arrived on the bus moments after the alarm was activated. Fearing that she was too late, she ran towards the university to see what she could do to help. Ursula watched the bus pull off and Kathryn running across the street. She would have run her down had she had the chance. "That Bitch!," she yelled, "She'll ruin everything."
Ursula crushed out her cigarette, checked her luger and exited the car to pursue Kathryn.

Otto and Bruno had found the wheeled fire extinguishers and had moved them from their usual spots to underneath the stairwells where they could hang the bombs and hide out until the proper time. They had confiscated some lab coats from the laundry. The alarm bells startled them for a moment.
"Time" Bruno said.
Otto just nodded.

Chongo and Groves hung back from the crowd streaming orderly from the building. If anyone was coming in they wanted to catch them. Chongo noticed that one fo the offices they were passing was actually on fire and grabbed an extinguisher. The office must have been a file room because it was burning with a will. Chongo layed too with the extinguisher and managed to put the fires out. The smoke from the fire and the smoke grenades was getting to him. Luckily he was at a lower level than almost everyone else so he had a little more air to breathe. Out of the smoke came a strange shadow looking like a man pushing something in a wheelchair.
"Fire's out in this one boys, but I'm sure there are others that still need attention." Chongo called out.
The figure stopped short and began fiddling with something.
"Hey, I said the fire is out in this one, can't you hear me?
A bright flash and bang in the smoke and the flying plaster hitting him in the cheek from the wall next to him told him all he needed to know. One of the Nazi spies had gotten in and was shooting at him. Chongo knew the pistols they used were semi-automatic, that didn't give him much time. Another shot brushed his right shoulder. Chongo screamed Bundalo! and hurled himself at the attacker with the expended extinguisher in his hands. A third shot ricocheted off the extinguisher as Chongo charged. Chimp, cart and Man collided with bone splitting shock. Chongo batted at where he thought the gun was and was rewarded with a meaty "thump" and clatter as the pistol hit the floor. Chongo had gotten lucky but he didn't know how long that would last. The luck ran out when he felt a knife piercing his side. The smoke had gotten thick enough that his assailant hadn't gotten anythin but his skin and maybe a few nicked organs, but damn did it hurt. Luckily the nazi spies used there knives as eating utensils as well as for fighting so there wasn't likely to be any poison. Chongo brought the extinguisher around at a higher level and felt the impact and the give of the mans head that he'd been trying to hit. The man fell to the floor, the knife spinning across the tiles.
Chongo began draggin him to the exit.

Chongo hadn't been the only one having a fight, although the first man with the extinguisher had managed to bully past him, the second had nearly run him down. Groves was further up the hall from Chongo and actually recognized Otto from the pictures that Laura had provided. He didn't give Otto the time to draw his pistol. Groves shoved the cart hard into Otto knocking him. The extinguisher bottle and cart tilted backwards. Groves grabbed them and gave them a shove toppling them over on Otto. Otto was trapped under their combined weight. The bag containing the bomb spilled out onto the floor. Groves hadn't seen one like it before but he didn't have to be told what it was. Groves gently lifted it out of the bag.
"Are you it or do I have to worry about some other sons a bitches trying to rain on my parade!" he yelled at Otto. Otto just sneared at him.

Chongo started up the corridor dragiing the unconscious nazi behind him. Other fofices might be on fire and although he'd have liked to pitch the guy onto the piles of burning paper the guy might know something usefull that the Groves could use. He heard Groves shouting his name down the corridor.
"I'm here general!" Chongo choked out, "I've got one of them unconscious behind me!"
"I got another back here." Groves said as Chongo emerged from the smoke.
"Did you get the bomb?" Groves asked, showing Chongo the device in his hands.
"Shit!" Chongo yelled and before Groves could stop him he dropped the spy and stampeded back down the corridor. It was almost to dark to see. Chongo tripped over the cart and hurtled into a wall. Rising painfully he felt his way back to the cart and began feeling around for the bag which must be strapped to it. Chongo tore away the bag and headed back in what he hoped was the direction to the exit. General Groves had already made it to the exit and called in three MPs to help with the prisoners while handing the bomb off to a fourth. Fire truck sirens announced the arrival of the local fire department. General Groves waited for what seemed like an eternity and almost turned to leave when Chongo emerged from the smoke.
"Didn't think you were going to make it," he said grabbing the satchel from Chongo and helping him towards the exit.
"If there are anymore we missed this could be a short reunion general." Chongo croaked with a grimace.

Kathryn was running across the yard towards the lab with Ursula not too far behind. Ursula skidded to a halt as Otto was led out between two MPs with Bruno being carried out by another. The plan had failed!
She began yelling obscenities at Otto and Bruno.
"You incompetent fools! Dolts! Imbeciles!" She screamed as she pulled out her own lugar. The first shot missed Otto by a breath and hit the MP on his right side. The other MP forced him onto the ground. The second shot managed to hit Bruno in the chest. From the way he fell there was no doubt that it was a critical hit. Everyone was madly scrambling for their firearms and for cover when a dark shape dropped out of the sky in front of Ursula and caught the third shot in its chest. Kerchak brushed off the rage from the pain and grabbed her pistol hand. Ursula screamed as her fingers broke and twisted along with the metal of the gun.
"Shouldn't play with guns little girl!" Kerchak shouted at her baring his teeth. He then caught Ursula's head in an open fisted round house that sent her cartwheeling across the lawn.

MPs and firefighters were rushing into the building as Kathryn managed to push through the crowd and found the only man in uniform who looked to be of high rank. The general actually flinched when she tapped him on the shoulder. An MP had her by the arm before he could turn around. Groves motioned him off. Sir! Oh thank God! They didn't succeed!" Kathryn panted.
"What do you know of this!" Groves demanded.
"Those two you caught and the other one kidnapped me, I escaped and got here as fast as I could to try to tell someone about it." she replied.
"Tell me if there were any others! I need to know now!"
"There were two others but they didn't want to carry out the plan, they took me with them as insurance and then abandoned me at the train station," she lied through her teeth thinking of Brehmer.
"that's a relief," the general sighed.

Minutes later the fires were extinguished and fans were brought on-line to evacuate the smoke. There was some significant damage to the building on several floors but the lab and its working were all intact. The project would go on.

---

13 Feb 04 - 03:00 PM (#1115378)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Chief Chaos

Prologue:

Though the weather was cold, Chongo with Laura, Drecker, Kerchak accompanied by Maizey and Groves, in civilian attire with Kathryn on his arm attended the funerals of all the primates who had died at the hands of the nazi spies. The wind might have been blamed for the tears on everyones cheeks as they wished farewell to the children for the last time.

Chongo was nursed through his injury by Laura who stayed with him for a few happy weeks until she was called to return to Europe to help out with invasion plans. She said she'd be back but Chongo rather doubted it. It had been fun while it lasted but although times had certainly changed they hadn't changed enough to allow for what he really wanted. At least this time she'd had a photo taken with him so he had something to remember her by.

Kerchak was nursed through his bulet wound by Maizey. Although he really didn't need the tending Kerchak acted the part of the walking wounded and rather enjoyed her tender ministrations. They were married baout a month later with Chongo as the best man, Drecker and Groves in attendance and Kathryn as one of the brides maids. Kathryn and Maizy had struck up a relationship while attending the funerals together. After the wedding Kerchak also had some other news for everyone.
"I've decided that you were right Chongo as much as it pains me to admit it. The time has come for the hate to stop. It nearly cost all of our lives before I figured that out. I was being selfish and taking what I wanted instead of working to even the playing field for everyone. I've been talking with General Groves about what I might be able to do to help bring this war to an end. I can't return to my prior lifestyle knowing that there are thousands of life in the balance. I've asked Maizey and she agrees with me, after our honeymoon I'm going to join the resistance fighters in France. the way the nazis feel about us primates they won't notice that this gorilla is watching everything they do.
Kerchak was as good as his word and would return from France wearing the Croix De Guerre.

On May 7, 1945 the allies secured victory in Europe. At home in the states the friends wept and prayed and celebrated.

On July 16, 1945 the first atomic bomb was tested in an open area of New Mexico under the greatest secrecy and with some success.

On August 6, 1945 the city of Hiroshima experienced the first atomic bomb used in warfare firsthand.

Three days later, because the Japanes Imperial Command could not believe the reports about Hiroshima, the city of Nagasaki felt the fiery wraith of the sleeping giant and the last atomic bomb used in wartime.

On August tenth the Imperial High Command sued for peace.

On VJ Day the friends gathered again to weep and pray, somberly for they knew firsthand what kind of hell had been unleashed on the citizens of Japan.

Kathryn and Maizey kept each other company and talked about the men.
Kathryn even told Maizey the whole truth about Brehmer. Maizey wasn't judgemental, after all, look what her husband had been and he'd be returning home a hero. Kerchak returned and he and Maizey began in earnest the life together that they had temporarily set aside. One day a package from Paraguay arrived for Kathryn with some cash, a picture and a note from Brehmer asking Kathryn to please come to Paraguay. Kerchak and Maizy, now expecting and absolutely glowing, waved to her plane as it flew off into the sunset.

The End

Please keep your eyes peeled for our next Chongo Chimp adventure!
Rapiare, Littlehawk and I have really enjoyed writing this for you. If you enjoyed it, please PM us and let us know what you think.

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13 Feb 04 - 03:40 PM (#1115394)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Amos

(((Cheers and standing ovations, catcals and whistles and whoops and Bravos)))

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13 Feb 04 - 05:18 PM (#1115427)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: GUEST,Martin Bauer

Message from Paraguay, February 14, 1946:

My dear friends, I have a happy event to report to you. My erstwhile young business partner, Jurgen Brehmer, was married today to his sweetheart Kathryn, a lovely young woman from Chicago, USA. Brehmer had the occasion to meet her quite unexpectedly in late 1942 while he was 'visiting' Chicago, and it appears to have been the hand of destiny that brought them together. They make a lovely couple. I am confident that Kathryn will provide a useful focus for Brehmer's ferocious energy level and succeed in settling him down a bit. One cannot fly commercial aircraft like fighter planes, and Brehmer has definitely needed something lately to occupy his restless mind.

This country has been good to us. The climate is magnificent and the food is very good. You even get used to the ants and scorpions soon enough! Our flying business, B & B airlines (for Brehmer and Bauer), is doing very well indeed, so much so that Brehmer has managed to purchase his dream...a war surplus Lockheed Lightning that apparently served in the Pacific at one time. It's a fine machine, but no damn good for anything except aerobatics and killing people. I hope it does not end up by killing Brehmer, but he assures me that it is a highly reliable aircraft as long as one avoids compressibility effects in a dive, and this one is the later model with the small dive brakes under the wings.

I am becoming quite a hand with aircraft myself. I can now fly them, more importantly land them (the hard part!) and service them...most of this due to Brehmer's patient instructions over the past three years.

Brehmer has been approached and offered a job as a military flying instructor for the Paraguayan Air Force. He was tempted, because they would have him flying the P-51 Mustang, a marvelous airplane by all accounts, and maybe the new jets, but he finally decided he didn't want to get involved with the military again. One ends up having to do things that one would really be better off not doing, and not having a thing to say about it. We have both decided we prefer civilian life. One war was more than enough.

In a year or two we plan to visit the United States, most of which I have not seen. It's an amazingly large and prosperous country, but I don't think people are as relaxed there as they are here in Paraguay.

My own wife, Carmen, is well and happy, and the children are growing by leaps and bounds. I can honestly say that I am among the most fortunate of men. Damned if I know what I did to deserve this, but there you are.

So, we all send you our very best wishes and hope to see you again one of these days soon.

Much love and remembrance,

Martin Bauer
Hernandarias, Paraguay

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13 Feb 04 - 05:52 PM (#1115445)
Subject: RE: BS: My Banana Is Quick: A Chongo Chimp Tale
From: Little Hawk

Further prologue: Bruno died from his wound, as did the MP that Ursula had shot. Otto offered to work as a counterspy to save his skin, and turned over a good deal of valuable information, while the Americans tried to decide what to do with him. They suspected he had told them some, but not all of what he knew. He was holding out, hoping to still have some bargaining room left to play with.

Ursula remained defiant and uncooperative to the end. Eventually she requested an interview with Otto, hinting that she might be prepared to make a deal of some kind through him. The interview was arranged under the close scrutiny of two armed and vigilant MP's. There was a brief and fruitless discussion, at the conclusion of which Otto threw his hands in the air and said, "Fine! Then I suppose they will just have to execute you."

"I suppose so," replied Ursula sharply. "As they probably will you, Otto, soon enough...when they have all they want from you. This is goodby then. One last kiss for the condemned, Otto?"

He stared at her wordlessly. She stepped forward and put her arms up to embrace him, startling the MP's. One of them stepped forward, saying, "Hey, no touching there..."

"You would deny a last kiss between friends?" said Ursula, darting the man a contemptous look. She lowered her arms and raised her mouth. Otto bent to touch her lips with his own. He was thinking of all the times past, of what could never be again, as she kissed him deeply. She shuddered, stiffened, suddenly clutching at his arm and falling against him. Otto could taste an odd taste in his mouth, something like bitter almonds, and he started to gag. He fought for air, heard the MP's yelling in alarm. He tried to reach a chair, sat down groggilly, lost his balance, and fell writhing to the floor.

The poison capsule Ursula had extracted from under a false crown on one of her rear molars and then bitten down on killed her almost instantly. Otto took about three minutes to die from the smaller dose he got and there was nothing anyone could do for him. The cause that they had served died itself, 2 years later, in the rubble of Hitler's bunker in Berlin.

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