The vast blue ocean stretched out in all directions – an endless blue expanse of water that sparkled in the late-afternoon sun. Scores of seagulls squawked as they dove into the rolling blue waves in a bid to catch food. In the bright blue sky above the waves, a beat-up old barrel with wooden wings and a wooden propeller trundled along, jolting up and down with a kick of the engine every now and then.
"Do you see anything yet?" Diddy asked, poring over a map of the ocean and nearby islands.
"Not yet!" Funky called over his shoulder.
The inventive ape was hunched over the tiny control console and peering through the tiny viewing ports of the Biplane Barrel. The roar of the single propeller at the front reverberated throughout the 'cabin'. For their part, Diddy and Dixie were squeezed into the extremely cramped space behind the pilot's chair, sitting on the floor. There were many canvas bags, stuffed with who-knew-what, lying scattered everywhere, or tied off and swinging overhead.
They had set out from the snow-capped peak of DK Island at dawn, soaring east over the ocean, and spent most of the trip in a tense silence, only speaking to give flight bearings or lookouts.
Diddy stood on a wooden peg just below the top end of the Biplane Barrel, which he had opened to expose the sky. He stood up straight on the peg, looking over the top of the barrel and swung a spyglass around, ignoring the wind whipping into his face. All he could see in every direction was the endless ocean.
He was beginning to feel anxious. What if the Kremlings' ship had not continued on its eastward bearing? Or what if the flight path on their part was slightly off? They would never catch up to them.
Funky had tried to calm him down, pointing out that the pirates had caught the weekly Eastern Gale, and could not deviate much from its course for at least another day. He eventually gave up after a couple of hours of this – if the stubborn monkey refused to see reason, then that was his problem.
Dixie had been sitting in a contemplative silence for the past hour, idly tracing her finger along the trigger of her peanut popgun. Her expression was one of quiet determination.
"Are you okay?" Diddy asked from above. He replaced the top hatch of the Biplane Barrel and climbed down from the perch to sit down beside her.
"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, giving him a strained smile.
He gave her a frown. "Come on, Dix. Talk to me. What's on your mind?"
She sighed as she glanced around, brushing a stray lock of blonde hair out of her eyes. "It's just… everything is moving so fast. You, Funky and I are chasing after the Kremlings again, DK is set to be sacrificed, and our homeland is at war. It just seems like yesterday that the biggest problems we had were keeping Gnawties out of the tree-houses, getting out of Kong Kollege in time to meet Funky at the beach for the morning swell, our relationship problems – " Her emerald-green eyes widened when she realised what she had said.
She looked away, while her former boyfriend flushed red with embarrassment. A moment of awkward silence passed between them, before Diddy found his voice.
"Everything will be okay. We're going to get DK back and get out of this in one piece. We have to."
-
Later on, the darkened indigo sky was streaked with crimson and pink clouds, and the sea was an endless expanse of inky blackness. It was early into the evening, and the sun had just sunk below the horizon when it happened
Dixie, who had been on lookout at the top hatch of the biplane, excitedly lowered the spyglass. "I've found it!"
The others immediately perked up.
"Really?" Diddy said, clambering up to join her at the hatch, the evening sea-breeze blowing into his face. "Where?"
Dixie handed him the telescope and he looked through it to see the twinkling lights of a ship in the distance. The pirate galleon, where the Kremlings were keeping his best friend prisoner to sacrifice him…
"Funky, don't get any closer," he instructed. "We can't alert the lookouts in the crow's nest."
On his instructions, the ape banked the plane into a wide circle in place. Winds buffeted the outside, but the aircraft was sturdier than it looked. He gestured for Diddy to come over and take the controls while he moved into the very cramped back compartment.
It was Dixie who asked the million-dollar-question. "So how are we going to get close enough to the ship to board? It's not like we can swim from this far out."
"Glad you asked, Dixie-dude," Funky said, rummaging through the cluttered mess of supplies behind the pilot's seat and pulling out a very familiar barrel.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," she groaned.
"What?" he said in a slightly offended voice, brushing aside a swinging bag.
"Don't you remember how well that thing worked last time?"
"What?" Diddy called from the front. "What is it?"
Dixie pinched the bridge of her nose irritably. "Funky wants us to ride his Rocket Barrel again." She levelled her piercing green stare at the simian in question. "Assuming that thing doesn't malfunction and crash into the ocean, how do you expect us to even get close enough? The jet engine you put on it is really loud and noisy. And besides – it's probably going to malfunction and crash into the ocean!"
"Ah-ah, that's where you're wrong," he shot back, attaching a high-tech looking… gizmo to the exhaust of the jet turbine. There was really no other way to describe it. "This muffler will help reduce noise from the engine to virtually nothing. Trust me, I've tried it. And if you two monkeys cruise in soon, under the cover of darkness, there'll be no problem. And I got a chance at Cranky's cabin to tinker with the engine, and I fixed the problem that caused us to crash in Typhoon Lagoon."
"But have you actually tested it?" the girl put forward, her tone of voice making it abundantly clear how much she distrusted the Rocket Barrel.
"Of course not. That's what you and Diddy are for."
"…I hate you sometimes."
"For the record, I don't like this plan either," Diddy said, glancing over his shoulder from the pilot's seat. "But we don't really have any other options here. We're too far out from DK Island to get any help from Enguarde or Squawks. We're on our own out here."
Aside from the roar of the biplane's propeller, silence fell over the cabin for the next few moments as they pondered their other options. As much as she hated to admit it, Dixie knew that he was right.
She turned and jabbed an accusatory finger at Funky. "If your rocket sends us spiralling into the ocean to our deaths, I'll never speak to you again… Obviously."
He just grinned in response and lifted the Rocket Barrel. "Let's get this baby fired up, shall we?"
-
Ten minutes later, the sky had darkened considerably, stars beginning to twinkle overhead. In that time, Funky had the Rocket Barrel set up and ready to go, having given his friends a crash course in its operation.
"Aim to land in front of the galleon," he was saying.
"What about your rocket?" Diddy asked.
Funky shrugged. "I can always make another one." He turned and jabbed a finger at the map spread out at their feet. "There's a small uninhabited island a little ways east from here. While you two take the Rocket Barrel and board the ship, I'm going to land there and wait for your signal." He stood back and gave them a two-fingered salute. "Good luck, and try not to die."
"Very encouraging," Dixie muttered, shoving her peanut popgun into the pink sash tied around her left thigh.
Diddy strapped a larger holster around his stomach, just below his red shirt, which held his popgun, as well as two single-shot flare guns. That done, the monkeys climbed onto the Rocket Barrel while Funky pulled the cord to kick-start the engine and stepped back. With a sputter, the Rocket Barrel shot up through the top hatch and out of the Biplane Barrel!
The large wooden aircraft fell away from the rocket as it rose in a vertical climb, before Diddy guided it into a horizontal flight-path.
The dark ocean sparkled in the moonlight below them, and the lights of the pirate ship quickly grew nearer and nearer. The muffler seemed to be doing its job – the roar of the engine reduced to a muffled growl. If they flew far enough away from the ship, there would be virtually no chance of it being heard. Dixie held tightly on to the side of the barrel, a myriad of bad outcomes running through her head. Fortunately, none of them happened, and the Kongs carefully guided the Rocket Barrel past the galleon, keeping far enough away to avoid being seen by lookouts.
When they were far enough in front, Diddy carefully steered it into a shallow dive and cut the engine, sending it plummeting into the dark ocean. As soon as it hit, he yanked a cord to detach the sinking engine, allowing the barrel itself to float to the surface, the two soaked monkeys still clinging to it.
"What do you know? It worked," Dixie said in relief, as the barrel rolled and rocked in the waves.
"Yep. And now we play the waiting game," Diddy replied, looking back toward the ship cutting through the waters toward them.
They did not have to wait long. Very soon, they abandoned the barrel and swam below the bow of the ship, reaching out and grabbing onto the wooden hull. The pair carefully climbed up the side of the ship, over a cannon and were soon peering over the railing. The darkened deck was mostly empty, but there were several sentries walking around, carrying lanterns.
"I think it'll be safer if we stay off the deck," Diddy whispered, to which his friend agreed.
With that, the primates nimbly climbed and clambered their way along the side of the ship toward the stern, their feet never actually touching the deck. Suddenly, the bright yellow glow of a light appeared above them, and they immediately pressed themselves against the hull of the galleon, hoping against hope that the Kremling did not decide to look over the side.
For several agonising moments, there was nothing to be heard, aside from the crashing of the waves and whistling of the wind through the ship's rigging.
"Looks like the Chomps are out," the harsh, grating voice of the Kremling above them finally said.
"Do they make for good eating?" another voice could be heard calling from across the deck. "I'm sick of maggoty bread."
"Nah, shark meat is tough and chewy," the first voice answered, sounding more distant as its owner walked away. "We could catch 'em for shark fin soup, but that's just incredibly cruel and wasteful…"
"Aw, we got a bleedin' heart over here," a third, deeper voice mocked.
Dixie sneaked a glance over her shoulder into the dark water below them and saw what the pirates had been talking about: the triangular shapes of several dorsal fins could be seen knifing through the moonlit ocean. The sight of which suddenly made their precarious position – hanging off the side of a pirate ship gliding through shark-infested waters – all the more precarious.
She really did not like sharks.
"Can we climb up now?" she asked in a small voice.
Diddy shot her a look, which implied he was wondering whether her sanity was still intact. "There was a sentry right above us before."
"Well he isn't there now!" she hissed back in a panic.
"If they catch us, they're just going to tie us up and throw us into the ocean with the sharks anyway," Diddy pointed out.
Dixie begrudgingly saw his point and took a deep breath to calm herself. She opened her eyes and nodded. "Okay, I'm fine. Let's keep going."
He tipped his red cap in response, and then led the way across the side of the ship toward the stern. No more Kremlings looked over the side, thankfully, and the Kongs were soon peering cautiously over the back railing of the galleon. The intermittent glow of lanterns could be seen across the ship, some held by sentries, others hanging from the rigging. But for the most part, the deck was cast in darkness, spurring the two monkeys to slip carefully on-board and then dash past the wheel, down the stairs and into the nearest doorway.
They found themselves standing in a dim wooden corridor, the ship creaking as it rocked. There were no Kremlings in sight.
"Okay, what now?" Dixie whispered.
"DK is probably being kept in the brig, or somewhere in the hold below deck," Diddy mused. "We have to find some stairs leading down."
"Into the belly of the beast," she muttered to herself, adjusting her pink beret.
The pair crept slowly through the wood-panelled hallways, ducking into side rooms whenever they heard footsteps. Most of time, they found themselves inside storage rooms, with crates and barrels of supplies and provisions. However, one such trip brought them into a dark barracks, with many hammocks strung between walls and posts. Snores could be heard drifting through the air, intermingled with the creaking of the ship, and the two intruders carefully slipped carefully back out again.
After some time of this they came to a junction of hallways. Loud raucous laughter and the clinking of bottles and clunking of tankards could be heard coming from a nearby doorway, where light spilled out from. It sounded like there was a party going on in there.
"That's got to be the galley," Diddy whispered, and then turned and pointed down the interconnecting corridor. "I remember seeing some stairs this way…"
His memory and sense of direction proved correct, and the pair soon found themselves at a wooden staircase. Looking up, they could see the stars and sky through a hatch at the top of the stairs. However, they went in the opposite direction, making their way down the stairs into darkness.
The cargo hold they came into was a large and darkened space, filled with barrels and crates. However, one piece of cargo immediately caught their attention. It was a tall cage with vertical iron bars, its door sealed with a skull-shaped padlock. Its occupant: a large gorilla with a red tie, looking tired, seasick and altogether miserable.
"DK!" the monkeys exclaimed together, rushing forward.
The ape looked up wearily and his face lit up. "Diddy! Dixie!" he said, gripping the bars of his cage. "What are you two doing here?"
"What does it look like?" Diddy said. "We're here to rescue you!"
The look of gratitude that spread across DK's face was warm and genuine. "Little buddy… I don't know where I'd be without you."
However, the reunion was cut short by the sound of running footsteps. Moments later, three pirates emerged from around a stack of crates, looking shocked at the scene before them.
"I'll raise the alarm!" one of them shouted, turning tail (literally) and running away up the stairs. Dixie watched him go with a sinking feeling in her chest.
The remaining two Kremlings drew flintlock pistols from their belts and opened fire at the simian intruders, who in turn took cover behind a nearby barrel and returned fire with their peanut popguns.
"Go!" DK shouted. "There are more coming down the stairs!"
"Stop firing, you idiots!" one of the arriving buccaneers yelled. "You might hit and kill the big Kong!"
The sounds of swords being drawn rang throughout the room, and then the group of Kremlings rushed toward their enemy, yelling battle cries. However, their progress was arrested by a meaty and furred arm battering them aside like limp ragdolls. The ones in the back looked in shock to see the large gorilla in the nearby cage flailing his arms through the bars, cutting off their approach.
"GO!" he roared to his friends. "I'll hold them off!"
"No, we're not leaving you!" Diddy shouted back.
"There are too many of them, and you can't open this cage without a key!" DK slammed his fist into a sly Kremling who had tried to sneak past him, sending the unfortunate individual flying across the room.
The red-capped monkey felt his former girlfriend tugging on his arm, pulling him away. "He's right," she said, her voice strained. "We have to get away for now."
As much as he hated to admit it, he knew she was right. They had been so close… "We'll come back for you!" he shouted back to DK. "I promise!"
He and Dixie turned and fled through the hold, weaving through a maze of stacks and barrels and crates, finally coming to another staircase that led upward. They clambered up, ran through a short corridor and rounded a corner to see a staircase leading up to the deck of the ship. The only problem was three green-skinned Kremling pirates who stood in the way, levelling muskets at them.
"Look out!" Dixie yelled, yanking Diddy back around the corner by the scruff of his shirt.
The wooden wall behind where he had been standing a second ago was shredded by musket balls. Diddy recovered, grabbed a nearby barrel and swung back around the corner. The pirates were in the middle of reloading, and thus unable to stop him from hurling the barrel at them with all his strength. Two of them cried out and threw themselves out of the way, but the one in the middle was too slow, and the rolling barrel bounced and struck him in the head, knocking him unconscious.
The other two Kremlings scrambled on the floor for their weapons, but were promptly knocked out by the two Kongs, who sped back around the corner and cartwheeled into them. They ran past the unconscious pirates, up the stairs and back out onto the deck of the galleon. Shouts sounded as they were spotted.
"Quick! Up into the rigging!" Dixie cried.
They both began to climb up the mainbrace mast, shimmying up ropes, and scurrying across sail-posts and yardarms. A quick glance down confirmed that several Kremlings were climbing up the shrouds and rope ladders after them. One such party was about to reach them, bloodlust in their wild eyes.
"Jump!" Diddy shouted, his tail poised as he leapt for a nearby rope dangling down from the mainbrace.
His friend followed suit and the rope swung off, circling around the mast. However, another loud yell drew their attention to an orange Kremling, with a green bandana tied around his head, swinging toward them on another rope, holding onto it with one hand, while his other grasped a sword.
Dixie held out both of her feet as they came together, managing to kick him off his rope before he could cut theirs. The cutthroat shrieked as he hurtled down toward the deck below.
"Nice one!" Diddy said in encouragement.
With the nimbleness of, well, of monkeys, they climbed the rest of the way up the swinging rope to find themselves nearing the crow's nest. Where they could go from here was still a work-in-progress in the escape plan.
However, said plan was stopped cold as they found their way forward barred by three more orange Kremlings, hanging in the rigging above, brandishing rapiers at them, while a fourth aimed a flintlock pistol at them.
"Bonjour, little fleabags. No more moves, or we cut you down from here." The one holding the gun nodded his long scaly snout at the ship deck far below. "And it's a long way down, oui?"
Their terror became extreme when, without warning, the pirates leaped down and knocked them off the mast! They screamed as they fell, but, instead of being met with a hard, unforgiving surface, they rebounded off a tarp, being held by several Kremlings on the deck, like a trampoline. They shrieked as they were thrown back up into the air several times, much to the pirates' delight and amusement.
"How high d'you think the fur-balls can fly?"
"You reckon I can shoot 'em both in one bounce?"
"Pull!"
Fortunately, the Kremlings decided not to use them for target practice, but they did drop the tarp, allowing the Kongs to fall painfully to the wooden deck. They were immediately seized by the scaly cutthroats, held in place by dozens of rough hands.
"Well, well, what have we here?" a high, cold voice said, drawing everyone's attention. There came with the steady CLOMP of what sounded like a wooden leg.
The Kongs looked toward the stern of the galleon, where a very large, very familiar and very unwelcome Kremling was walking down the stairs toward them. He held a lantern, casting a glow over his gleaming teeth and dark-green scales. A peg-leg hung down where the stump of his left leg ended.
"Kaptain Kraft! We've secured the intruders!" a large grey Kremling shouted.
"Kraft?" Diddy exclaimed. "You're Kaptain Kraft?"
"Indeed I am, boy!" the big Kremling boomed.
"So it's you!" he snarled, struggling against the hands that held him. "You're the one who's leading the Kremlings and trying to destroy DK Island! You already destroyed the Nanji clan's homeland, and now they're waging war on my people!" The rage that coursed through his body only made him struggle harder, but there were too many pirates holding him in place.
The Kremling leader – Kaptain Kraft – eyed him in disdain, before balling a fist and punching him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. He gasped in pain, but the crowd surrounding him held him in place, stopping him from going down.
"Leave him alone, you coward!" Dixie shouted.
She cried out when one of the Kremlings behind her yanked brutally on her blonde ponytail. A beefy hand came around her throat, forcing her to stare up into a pair of wild eyes, gleaming with malicious intent.
"I lost my leg because of you," Kraft growled, his acrid breath wafting into her face. "I haven't decided how I'm going to pay you back for that yet, but just know that I can get… creative."
"Stop, don't hurt her!" Diddy pleaded, causing laughter to ripple throughout the reptilian crowd around them.
The huge Kremling released his grip on the schoolgirl's neck and turned to face the other troublesome monkey again. "For your information, I couldn't care less what happens to your pathetic spit of an island. But my master is particularly fond of the idea of watching it sink into the ocean. Not to mention the sacred power that our island will receive as a reward." He eyed his captives down thoughtfully. "And I'm pretty sure he'll be happy to see both yer heads on pikes as well."
Dixie gulped, eyeing the glittering sword hanging from his belt.
"Perhaps you know of whom I speak," the captain said, rising his full height and looking pointedly at Diddy. "An old enemy of yours."
The monkey in question did not answer, glaring back in defiance.
"You are both fools," Kraft said, turning away. "I have nothing more to say to you."
As he walked away, the large grey Kremling took his place and began barking out orders to the crowd around them.
"Seal them both in barrels, and store them below in the hold!"
Diddy tried to struggle, but the pirates holding him in place were far too strong. He could only watch helplessly as Dixie was roughly pulled away from him by her hair. The Kremlings bound her feet together and her hands behind her back. She was then picked up and dumped unceremoniously into a barrel.
"NO!" she cried out, but her voice was cut off as the top of the barrel was put in place.
Diddy felt coarse rope being coiled around his wrists and ankles as well. He turned his head sideways and saw that a similar barrel was being prepared for him. He then looked forward to see a Kremling wielding a rifle approaching him.
"Your turn," the pirate hissed, before reversing the rifle and slamming the butt into his face. Everything went dark.
-
The hours spent in the cramped darkness of the barrel seemed to blend together for Diddy. The ropes that bound him seemed to tighten, the cramping of his limbs worsened, and his throat felt dry and constricted from lack of water. Sleep was very hard to come by.
Altogether, what would have normally been a miserable experience was made worse by his thoughts.
He had failed.
He could not save DK, he had gotten himself captured, and, even worse, he had allowed Dixie to be captured as well. They were all at the mercy of the Kremlings now. And their homeland remained in peril.
If only Cranky could see him now. The old ape would probably berate him – call him a useless failure, a disgrace to the Kongs. And he would be right.
He was not a hero.
Diddy's miserable thoughts were interrupted by the sound of two sets of footsteps approaching his barrel. Moments later, a hard kick from outside sent it toppling over onto its side, rattling its occupant. The top was cracked open, Diddy's eyes squinting as they adjusted to the dim light.
He was pulled bodily from the barrel and hauled to his feet, before a canvas bag was thrown over his head, blackening his vision once again. His hands were left tied behind his back, but the bonds around his feet were cut, allowing him to walk.
"Should we get the big one too?" one of the Kremlings rasped.
"Are you crazy? Let the massive gorilla out of his cage? No, it's the only the little ones the Kap'n wants."
Diddy was marched through the cargo hold by the two Kremlings and shoved roughly up the stairs to the deck, his disabled vision causing him to miss many a step and stumble. When he came out onto the deck of the ship, judging from the stream of indignant snarls and curses to his right, he could guess that Dixie was receiving similar treatment. The calls of seagulls drifted in the air as he was pushed down the deck of the ship and up some more stairs, to what he guessed was the stern.
The stifling bag was unceremoniously yanked off his head, and it took his eyes a few seconds to adjust to the light. Beside him, Dixie looked equally disoriented. The sky was a creamy kind of pre-dawn colour, lightening as the sun approached on the horizon.
Dixie struggled with the ropes that bound her hands, her fingers flexing uselessly. Her popgun had been taken off her, and she could see that Diddy's equipment had been taken as well. Her silent contemplation of their predicament was interrupted by Kaptain Kraft turning his attention from the ship's wheel to them.
"Did you two have a nice nap?" he said mockingly. "Well, don't get too comfortable – we'll be making port soon."
The Kongs turned and looked beyond the bow of the ship to see that they were indeed approaching another island. A very tall island. An enormous and terrifying island.
"Wait for it…" Kraft said to the other Kremlings present.
The island looked terribly familiar… It couldn't be…
"There it is! Your faces – that is priceless!" Kraft exclaimed.
All of the pirates surrounding them roared with laughter.
"B-But… how…?" Dixie whispered. "It sunk below the sea…"
"Yes, I thought you'd recognise it," the captain said, gesturing a scaled hand behind him. "Welcome back to Crocodile Isle."