Solid Frodo: Hobbit Espionage Action

Chapter 8: That Next Step’s a Doozy

Pippin pressed the upside down triangle, and the elevator took them down another floor. There were no guards in here at all. There was just a door on the opposite wall and a window. Merry peeked through the window and said, "I think that’s Dr. Emmerich. At least, he doesn’t look like a guard."

"OK, good, we’re getting close," Frodo said. Then he walked over to the door and opened it. A thin yellow mist filled the room, and he started coughing and choking. He rushed back out and let the door close behind him while he doubled over, hacking and gagging and hoping furiously he wasn’t about to lose first and second breakfasts and lunches or any of the various snacks he had eaten.

"Are you OK sir?" Sam asked, patting Frodo on the back and looking very concerned. Frodo nodded, but he was still coughing.

Pippin wondered, "What’s in there, Frodo?"

After his coughing fit passed, Frodo straightened up and answered, "Some kind of poisonous mist, I think. I didn’t get a chance to see much."

Suddenly, their Codec beeped. "This is ‘Deepthroat’," the voice said. Before anyone could respond, ‘Deepthroat’ continued. "That room is filled with poison gas, and the floor is electrified. You have to destroy the high-voltage switch on the north wall."

Merry asked, "But how? It’s way inside there, and we’re out here!"

"Use a remote controlled missile."

"A what?"

"You should have one now. It’s the newest weapon you found, the Nikita." Then ‘Deepthroat’ cut off the transmission.

They all looked at Pippin, who pulled the large weapon out of his bottomless pocket. "This is what he meant, I guess."

"Well...how are we going to do this?" Merry asked, looking at the Nikita missile launcher.

Frodo looked through another window in the wall and pointed to the huge box inside. There appeared to be a switch on it. "Well, that’s our target I should think," he said.

Sam joined Merry in examining the Nikita. "Look, there’s a...whatsit, a scope on it." He looked through. He nudged the Nikita slightly, and gasped. "Wow! It’s like I can see right through it, where ever it’s aimed!"

"Hmm. He said the missiles were remote controlled...," Pippin observed. Then he got a missile out of his pocket and stuck it inside the Nikita. "Maybe that means one of us could direct it through the scope?"

"Maybe," Frodo said, perfectly content for the four Hobbits to try to figure it out for themselves without having to call one of the Big People. "If that’s so, who will use it? I don’t think any of us are big enough to use it alone."

"True," Pippin said. Then he added, "I hate to admit it, but I think Sam has the best aim. Remember how he pegged Bill Ferny in Bree?"

Sam puffed up a little with pride. Merry helped Pippin hold up the Nikita. He said, "I think we can hold it up...then Sam can guide the missile. Probably it will just take three of us."

"Then what about the gas?" Sam asked. "It don’t look like we can breathe in there."

Frodo crossed his arms in thought. "How long can you hold your breath?"

"Me sir? I don’t rightly know, I never had to before."

"Looks like you’ll have to now."

Merry said, "We’ll just have to do this as fast as we can. I can hold my breath for long enough, I suppose." Pippin just frowned.

"So...I guess we better oughta go do it," Sam said, not particularly happy.

"Seems so," Merry replied. "Before we go in, take a few really deep breaths, then take one extra deep one and hold it, OK?"

So Pippin and Merry carried the Nikita to the door and Sam followed. They all did as Merry had instructed them, then when they had the deepest breaths they could get, the rushed into the room with the poisoned gas. Merry, who was in the lead, nearly stepped on the electrified floor—they could see arcs of electricity sparking here and there, and his foot fur began to stand on end from static.

The two taller Hobbits got the Nikita positioned to aim down the hallway, and Sam put his eyes to the scope. He held a hand up to stop Merry and Pippin’s maneuvering when he felt the aim was right. Then he pulled the trigger.

Fortunately the Nikita had very little kickback; it only nudged them all a little bit. But Sam was able to keep his eyes on the scope...though it was very disconcerting, seeing things he knew he shouldn’t be able to as he moved the controls to direct the missile.

At first he turned it down the wrong hall, but he corrected it quickly when all he saw that way was a door. Soon the missile was on its way to the control switch. Sam almost burst out shouting when he saw all the roving eyes that tried to shoot the missile down, but he remembered the poisonous gas just in time.

Sam directed the missile in all sorts of ways to dodge the bullets, and soon he saw the switch in his viewfinder. But that was the best Sam could do—he just couldn’t hold his breath any longer and it exploded out of him, and then by instinct he took a deep breath. Not a good idea in a room filled with poisoned gas. He started coughing madly, and Merry and Pippin dropped the Nikita and dragged Sam out of the room, just as the missile hit and they heard a loud explosion.

While Sam fell down and coughed and gagged, Merry went to check the window. "You hit it Sam! We should be able to go in now!"

Sam turned to look at Merry, still coughing, "I don’t know...how you plan to,...can’t breathe that stuff...." Frodo helped Sam up and patted his back in his turn.

Merry frowned. "I guess that means me...I can hold my breath longer than the rest of you."

"You can go exploring, but eventually we’ll all have to go," Pippin reminded him.

Finally Sam stopped coughing. "The door to the room we want to go to isn’t that far...I think we can all make it holding our breath. There’s just a camera there," he informed the other Hobbits. "Oh, Mister Merry, there are lots of those eyes with guns on them in the other room."

Merry sighed. "Well, let me go exploring for a bit, see if there’s anything useful in there. I wish I could use your Ring, Frodo."

"You CAN’T!" Frodo nearly shouted, unsheathing Sting. "Keep away from me you thief!"

Merry was taken aback. "Whoa, wait, I just said I ‘wished’ I could...I wasn’t gonna ask you for it!"

Frodo didn’t say anything in reply, just held Sting threateningly and clasped his fist around the Ring.

Sam whispered to Merry, "Probably be best if you didn’t mention ‘It’ again...he gets that way sometimes now."

The taller Hobbit nodded. "OK, see Frodo, I’m going in now," he said, as he edged toward the door.

For a moment longer Frodo looked upset, but then he lowered Sting and let go of the Ring. "I’m sorry Merry. I didn’t mean to...."

"It’s OK, Cousin Frodo. I should just keep my mouth shut."

Pippin snickered and said, "It would keep us out of trouble."

Merry gave Pippin a dirty look, "Oh certainly, and Master Took never gets us in any trouble at all running his mouth off."

Frodo sighed and shook his head while he returned Sting to its scabbard. "Is there anything short of sewing your lips shut that will stop you two?"

Both Pippin and Merry smiled broadly. "Of course not," Pippin answered. "You know us, and if you weren’t so gloomy lately you’d be doing it too."

The older Hobbit sighed again. Sam hid a grin behind his hand.

Merry took several deep breaths, holding the last, then he ran through the door and down the hallway. He turned the corner, and was distressed to find several eyes with guns attached, even though Sam had warned him of them. So he quickly tossed out a Chaff grenade, and after it exploded, he ran up to the doors. One wouldn’t open, but the other had a mask in it which looked a lot like the masks the guards wore in the room Campbell had told them would flood with gas if they were seen.

After a quick inspection, Merry realized it wouldn’t fit him unless he adjusted the straps, but he didn’t really have time for that. So he pocketed the mask and ran back out, down the hallway until he reached the end where the switch Sam had destroyed stood. He found a ration and grabbed it, but didn’t pocket it because he wasn’t sure it was safe and he didn’t feel like mixing it up with the others just in case.

He saw nothing else of interest, so running as fast as he could, because he was beginning to run out of air, he dodged bullets the gun-eyes shot at him and then rounded the corner. He sped through the hall, nabbed the dropped Nikita, and made it through the door just in time.

Outside where the air was safe, Merry gasped for breath and leaned over with his hands on his knees.

"Was there anything in there?" Frodo asked after Merry had regained his breath.

"Yeah, yeah...there was this," he answered, holding up the suspicious ration, "and there was a mask. I think it’s like what those guards wore, a ‘gas mask’."

"That would be very convenient!" Pippin exclaimed. Then he thought for a moment. "But there was only one?"

Merry nodded, pulling the gas mask out of his pocket. Upon closer inspection, it looked an awful lot like the black mask Psycho Mantis wore. "Oh, yuck," Merry muttered, and handed the mask to Pippin.

Pippin looked at it, and held it up to his face. Then he pulled it away and fiddled with the straps. "Well, it smells funny, but I could breath in it...but I dare say we can’t share it."

"Let’s have a little bite and think about it," Frodo said, reaching for the ration in Merry’s hand.

Merry pulled it away. "I have plenty, and I don’t trust this one. Who knows how long it’s been in there with all that gas!"

"Oh, true," Frodo said, and waited while Merry went to the door and quickly tossed the suspect ration away. Then Merry pulled a good ration out of his pocket and handed it to Frodo, who started sharing it out.

"I figure we won’t forget that one might be poisoned if we leave it in there," Merry explained, taking the slice Frodo offered him.

"So," Pippin said, munching on a slice of ration, "what shall we do with the gas mask? How long can you hold your breath, Frodo?"

Frodo shrugged. "I don’t know either. I don’t mind splashing around in shallows, and I can tread water, but I never learned to swim really."

Merry made a face. "Well, we already know Sam can’t hold his breath as long as Pippin or I. I don’t suppose you want to go test it, Frodo?"

"Mister Frodo can use it, I’ll be fine," Sam piped up.

"You won’t be if we have to drag you half way through," Pippin replied.

Frodo thought for a moment. "Why don’t we see if it will even fit on Sam or I first?"

"Well...yeah, I guess we could do that, Mr. Practical," Pippin said as he handed the mask to Frodo.

Frodo accepted it and set it over his face. There were gaps, and as much as he pulled on the straps, he couldn’t seem to get them close. "It looks too big for me." He handed the mask to Sam, who had a rounder head, though in truth it wasn’t any bigger than Frodo’s.

But, the difference in the shapes of their faces seemed to help, as Sam was able to get the gaps in the mask to close a little easier than Frodo could. "Well, that settles it," Merry said, and he started fitting the straps so Sam wouldn’t have to hold them.

Sam muttered, "This is altogether a nasty feeling thing. I feel like I would suffocate." His voice sounded odd coming through the rubber mask.

"Well, you’ll be better off than the rest of us anyway," Pippin said.

As soon as Pippin finished getting the mask fit properly for Sam, they all started for the door. Sam was trying his best not to pull at the uncomfortable mask. The other three Hobbits took deep breaths, then rushed through the door and down the hall. The turned toward the door Sam had mentioned being there earlier, and when they saw the camera, they knew they couldn’t keep their breath long enough to sneak by, so they used a Chaff on it, then ran over to the door. Luckily, it opened, and they all stumbled through.

They found themselves in a very small room. The air looked clean, so Frodo tested it. He nodded, and the other Hobbits exhaled and panted for a few moments. Sam struggled to get the gas mask off, and eventually managed to do it, but not without putting his hair in severe disarray. Sam pocketed the mask while Pippin and Merry tried very hard not to laugh at Sam’s curly brown hair sticking up in all directions.

"What?" Sam asked. "What is it?"

Frodo had his mouth covered, very likely to hide his own grin. He answered, "You’re hair is everywhere, Sam dear."

Sam began furiously flattening his hair, muttering to himself something about friends and not needing enemies. He succeeded in somehow making it worse, and at that Merry and Pippin could no longer contain their snickers, and Frodo looked like he was fast loosing the battle.

"Oooo...now what am I supposed to do about it? I don’t suppose any of you brought a comb, now did you?" Sam grumped.

Despite their giggling, the other three Hobbits did their best to try to get Sam’s hair back to normal. Some combing with fingers was necessary, but eventually they managed to approximate a normal Hobbit hairdo. Frodo had to slap Merry and Pippin’s hands when they started braiding one of Sam’s locks.

"Well...that’s the best we can do," Frodo said, as much to get Merry and Pippin’s mischievous fingers out of Sam’s hair as anything else.

Sam tried to find something shiny to check their handiwork, but nothing was available. Then he said, "Now that you all are done laughing at me, shouldn’t we be getting to findin’ that Dr. Emmerich?"

"Of course," Frodo answered, and they all turned to the door near by and stepped through.

Go on to Chapter 9