Today he had more on his mind than just money and power. Much more. The fate of the world hinged, perhaps, on the pilot that he was anticipating, and that unsettled Shere Khan. He preferred having the world in his own hands, plying people as a puppeteer would control a marionette, or at least being able to buy off his adversaries with huge sums of money. Hearing the elevator doors open, he swivelled in his chair.

“Ah, Baloo,” he purred in his cultured bass voice as pilot and navigator made their way across the dim office, past the thick jungle foliage bordering both sides of the room to where the tiger was waiting behind his large mahogany desk. Both the desk and chair were scarred with countless claw marks, attesting to Khan’s nasty temper. Elbows on desk, fingertips pressed together, he continued, “I’ve sent for you since you seem to be the only one who can help me with this little dilemma.”

Baloo shared a concerned look with Kit. “What’s the buzz, Khanny?”

One of Shere Khan’s eyebrows raised slightly in astonished amusement at Baloo’s word choice. “The correct question, Baloo, would be where’s the buzz. My inventor Buzz is missing.”

“Missing!” both bears exclaimed in unison.

In his usual composed manner, Khan explained, “The last time he was seen was last Tuesday. He was leaving work at approximately 9:00 PM.”

“Workin’ overtime on a project?” Baloo interjected.

“No, actually, I let him leave early that day as a reward on a breakthrough pertaining to his latest top-secret invention.”

Baloo and Kit flashed each other an astonished look, each telegraphing silently, Long hours!

“Uh, that was real generous of ya,” Baloo stammered uncertainly, “lettin’ him leave so, um, early.”

“Mmm...yes, wasn’t it?” Khan replied, his lips twitching. “The doorman saw him climb into a taxi, and he hasn’t been heard from since. I understand that you and he are friends, Baloo.”

Baloo nodded. He whipped off his hat and began crushing it in his paws: a sure sign that he was agitated. “Known Buzz ever since I was a kid. Do ya got any leads?”

“My best and most trusted agents are on the case, but so far they have discovered nothing of his whereabouts.”

“Have you tried his favorite thinkin’ spot in the NoSmokey Mountains?”

“Yes, but Buzz’s traps have rendered my best men useless. That’s why I need you, Baloo. Being Buzz’s friend, I thought that perhaps you knew how to evade the traps.”

Baloo rubbed the back of his neck thoughtfully. “Can’t say as I do.”

“Of course, I’d be willing to pay you handsomely for his safe return,” the businessman added blandly. Money was definitely no object. Overlooking Buzz’s absentmindedness, a loyal, brilliant inventor was difficult to come by.

“Aw, you don’t owe us anythin’, Khan.” Baloo put a hand on Kit’s shoulder. “Kit an’ me’ll be willin’ ta find Buzz for Buzz’s sake. That old bird’s gotten me out of more scrapes than I got bandages.”

Kit nodded his acquiesce.

“Very good. Contact me if you obtain any information.” Shere Khan swivelled his chair back to his window, signifying that the meeting was over.

The NoSmokey Mountains

Northeast of Cape Suzette was a mountain range consisting of extinct volcanoes appropriately named the NoSmokey Mountains. The slopes of these volcanoes, which had oozed with smouldering hot molten lava eons before, were now green with old-growth oak forests. The places where dinosaurs had roamed were now inhabited by scampering squirrels and grazing deer. The Sea Duck circled around one of the mountains until Baloo spotted a cleared strip to land.

“Keep yer peepers peeled for Buzz’s traps, L’il Britches,” Baloo reminded as he and Kit hopped from the plane.

“You’re telling me, Baloo. The last time we visited Buzz, I almost got chopped in two by a giant axe.”

Their feet sank into the velvety green grass that carpeted the forested glade as they cautiously treaded up the slight incline of the mountain, skirting every depression of earth, every scattering of twigs that looked suspicious, and, therefore, might be concealing a trap. However, they weren’t careful enough...

Faster than you can say ‘gotcha’, Kit vaulted through the air courtesy of a giant flyswatter. He landed a few yards away on a giant strip of flypaper.

“Unh...get me...ugh...outta here, Papa Bear!” Kit said, trying, without much success, to become unstuck from the sticky, honey-colored substance. He writhed on his back much like a trapped fly.

“Man, talk about yer sticky wickets!”

Taking the boy by both hands, Baloo wrenched Kit from the flypaper. They both tumbled head over heels backwards only to plunge through a hole in the earth. From there, they slid down a long metallic tube until they landed on a hard-packed earthen floor with a collective “oof!” They were in Buzz’s laboratory.

“Buzz, ya down here?” Baloo’s voice reverberated through the cavern/lab.

They listened for a reply. Without the usual clacking, humming, and beeping of Buzz’s equipment and inventions, it was completely silent, so silent that their ears strained for the minutest sound, but were unable to find one except the faraway drip, drip of water.

Baloo scrambled to his feet and helped Kit to his. “Lights are on, but nobody’s home.”

“Gosh, Baloo, it looks like a hurricane blew through here,” Kit said, picking up an unidentifiable part from the floor and setting it on a cluttered counter.

“Yeah, Buzz must have left in a hurry,” Baloo commented, peeking underneath a counter for the inventor. “He didn’t bother ta pick up like he usually does.”

The lab was indeed a mess. Inventions were overturned. A few were smashed. One had long gashes in it as if someone had slit it apart with a sharp knife. Tools as well as spare pieces of this and that were scattered on the floors and counters.

“Or someone has been here before us searching for something,” Kit suggested softly. “Do you think he could have been kidnaped, Papa Bear?”

“Who would wanna kidnap Buzz?”

“Who indeed?” Kit mused, turning over a piece of wire in his hands. Only one person came to mind - the nefarious air pirate Don Karnage.

Meanwhile at Pirate Island

The Iron Vulture, the air pirates’ mammoth purple and black mother-ship floated in the secluded cove secreted inside Pirate Island. In the hangar of this sizeable ship-of-the-air was Don Karnage. Standing beside him was a small bird with googly eyes wearing a rumpled brown suit and pink polka-dotted bow tie that was slightly askew. His head was fringed with an unruly mop of grey hair. He held a small black box and a joystick in his hands. The inventor nervously shifted from one foot to the other, not exactly liking the greedy expression on Don Karnage’s face.

“Is the device ready, Mr. Invention-inventor?” Karnage demanded of Buzz.

“N...not quite, Don Karnage, sir. There are still a few bugs that need to be worked out,” the inventor stammered.

“No matter. We will worm the bugs out.” The pirate captain snatched the box from Buzz and stuck it to the control panel of a brown, tri-wing CT-37, courtesy of magnetic strips on the back of the box. “Mad Dog! Time for a test spin!”

“Why me?” Mad Dog whined. However, the lanky ferret obediently climbed into the plane, started it up, and took off.

Seizing the joystick from Buzz, Karnage smiled an evil smile that showed all of his pointy teeth. He flipped the on switch up, causing a little green light to light up on the remote control receiver. He then yanked down on the joystick. The plane dove towards the floor with Mad Dog screaming, “Heeeeeelllllllppp!” all the way. Dumptruck and Gibber, passing through the hangar, had to hit the deck as the plane skimmed over their heads.

Karnage jerked the joystick from side to side. The airplane aped the joystick’s movements by sharply zigzagging from side to side, ricocheting off of the sides of the hangar.

“Get me off of this crazy thing!” Mad Dog yelled. “Ouch! Ow! Oh, that’ll be black and blue tomorrow!”

Anxiously, Buzz murmured repeatedly, “Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear.” He had never meant for his invention to hurt anyone.

“I am loving this!” Karnage exclaimed enthusiastically as he gave Mad Dog a roller-coaster of a ride.

After a few minutes of joyriding, the plane came in for a bumpy landing It stopped right at Karnage’s and Buzz’s feet. Mad Dog literally poured out of the cockpit to the floor, moaning, his face a sick shade of yellow-green. He appeared as if he had been through the spin cycle.

“Now can I go, Mr. Karnage, sir?” Buzz asked, hoping against hope.

“Why would you want to go? Aren’t we having fun? I have more plans for your big brain.” Picking Buzz up by the scruff of his suit, he added, “If you will kindly step this way I will tell you how you can assist me more in achievement of my magnificent plans.” Over his shoulder, he barked, “Dumptruck! Mad Dog! It is time to feed our illuminous guest!”

“Yes, Captain.” Dumptruck threw Mad Dog’s limp, dizzy form over his shoulder.

A Dark, Spooky Cavern

Knee-deep in salt water and trembling with fear, Mad Dog and Dumptruck stood before the entrance to the gigantic, colossal entrance to the creature’s lair - another large cavern in Pirate Island.

“You go first,” Mad Dog said, giving Dumptruck a nudge towards the dark, gaping hole.

“It’s your turn to feed it. You go first,” Dumptruck answered, his voice thick with a Norwegian accent. He shoved Mad Dog, sending the skinny ferret almost spiraling into the water..

“I don’t want to.”

“Den we’ll go together.”

They sloshed through the water, advancing further into the dark cave. The beams of their flashlights bounced off of the damp, mossy walls. A watermark about five feet up the wall indicated where the water level was during high tide.

“Why does Captain Karnage have to have a snake?” Mad Dog’s voice