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Not a Bed of Roses

Keeping up a long-distance relationship going can be tough. Especially when your girlfriend is dead, Kain Algorath thought, or at least officially dead, he amended as he explored the folds of her vagina with his tongue. But it helps that the sex is so good when we do get together.

Roughly two feet south of where he was licking, his lover, the cloud leopard Ophelia Sommer, was performing a similar service. They were lying on their sides in the middle of a king-sized bed at a seaside resort, enjoying the sound of the surf trough the open balcony door and the taste of each other.

Five days ago the young Arctic fox had been sitting in the rear of a Boeing 737 flying from Naples, Italy to Holguin in Cuba. The plane had been full of Italian travelers and a few returning Cubans. It also held one member of a Canada's most secret espionage agency, him, and the world's most successful assassin, his girlfriend. She was sitting in the front of the economy section, and neither had acknowledged the other during the flight.

Kain shifted his legs slightly, allowing Cass, a nickname for her that only he used now, more room to manoeuvre. She pressed her soft fuzzy muzzle against the inside of his thigh and cupped his testicles in one paw. With a soft moan, she turned her hips to press her mound against his mouth. Kain responded by trusting his tongue deeper, dividing her as it sought her clit.

When they first met, and became lovers, they had both been students at the Foreign Operations eXecutive, FOX for short, Canada's super-secret espionage agency. Kain, the son of one of America's leading electronics entrepreneurs, was recruited because of his advanced hacking skills. Ophelia, a Biochemist whose Navy SEAL father had trained her in the martial arts, had worked her way into FOX in order to kill its last remaining senior agent because she believed he had left her father to die in the Balkans. Silver, the agent she was after, had managed to set her straight, but not before she had murdered one of the other students. Ophelia should have been executed for what she had done, but Silver had found an alternative.

Silver had given Ophelia a poison that required monthly doses of an exotic antidote and had then sent her to replace the original Perfect Stalker, whom Silver had recently defeated. Her fellow students knew nothing of this arrangement; as far as Kain was aware she had simply disappeared. It was not until a year later, when she broke the 'no contact' rule to rescue Kain and some of his fellow agents that he discovered the truth, and immediately fell back in love with her.

Kain found her clit. He used his digits to pull her lips apart to expose it and he circled it slowly with the tip of his tongue. The button of flesh was soft at first, but it quickly grew harder. His snout rubbed the tender pink inner lips as they swelled and bloomed. They were becoming moist, and the odour of her mounting stimulation filled his nostrils. His genitals engorged in response to her taste and smell as much as to her ministrations.

After the rescue word was circulated that Ophelia had died from the wounds she received. She was In fact returned to her post as the Perfect Stalker. Only Kain Algorath, of all the junior agents, knew that she was still alive, but they were forbidden to contact each other. If she violated that rule a second time the antidote would be withheld, resulting in her death. Kain himself would face arrest and solitary confinement under the secret provisions of the agency's security code. FOX had a low tolerance for disciplinary problems, but Ophelia had figured out a way for them to keep in touch, and Kain's electronic skills ensured that their communications were not intercepted.

From that point it was a simple matter to arrange to meet in out-of-the-way locations. They frequented theme park hotels, rental trailers and luxury resorts in countries the other FOX agents avoided for security reasons. This time around they had booked a week at an all-inclusive resort in Cuba, a country still considered off-limits by FOX. They were looking forward to seven days and seven nights of sun, surf, and privacy.

Kain shuddered as Ophelia lifted his cock and licked one of his testicles. Next, she sealed her lips around it and sucked all the air from her oral cavity. The vacuum it created made his ball pop into her mouth. Closing down on the loose skin between, she rolled the captured testicle around inside with her tongue. At the same time she slowly stroked his hardening shaft. The first drops of pre-cum leaked out of the tip, lubricating the head so the pads of her paw slid lovingly across the sensitive skin there. Yes, it was good to be together again.

But getting together required more than just hopping on a plane and meeting up somewhere. FOX routinely monitored the movements of its agents so they had to change appearances, identities and direction of travel several times each. They only dared share a flight on the final leg, but they sat apart both in the airport waiting room and on the plane, checking each other for signs of surveillance. If it appeared that neither had been followed nor was being watched they would become a couple again at their destination.

As usual, Kain noted that many of the males on board ran their eyes over Ophelia at least once. Tall, fit and pleasantly filled out, she always drew attention. Several of them stared at her openly, with little smiles on their faces as they fantasized. One fellow, a handsome rodent of some sort, one of the few returning Cubans from the look of him, regarded her with frank admiration. When Kain saw her look around and lock eyes with the rat he had felt a little stab of jealousy. But then she had continued looking around with a bored expression on her face, much like the ones on half of the other passengers. The tip of her long puffy tail, held up above her head like a periscope, had followed her gaze as if it had eyes of its own.

He tail also had a personality all its own, although he had learned that it usually reflected her true mood. At the moment it was wrapped around his head, pulling his face into her crotch while the tip caressed his ears. He pulled away for an instant, just to catch his breath, but the tail jerked his snout back into her dripping hole insistently. Obviously it liked what he was doing. Breathing through the corners of his mouth, he redoubled his efforts. Soon the tail loosened its grip and began caressing him again.

Despite the efforts of the single males, and some of the married ones, to engage the beautiful snow leopard in conversation, Ophelia had kept to herself on the plane. She pretended to read or apply make-up while she checked to see if anyone was showing undue interest in Kain. Some of the younger females had glanced at him, but this was not unusual. Kain was several years younger than Ophelia and had spent two years rebuilding his body after an unfortunate encounter with an exploding Pontiac. The regime had honed his physique down to nothing but muscle, and quite a bit of it. He was unaware of the effect the sight of his sculpted muscles under the wispy white fur had on the young ladies, or on Ophelia, because she had never told him. She didn't want to swell his head. She preferred to leave that function to other parts of him.

Speaking of which, she had switched testicles, and his cock had swollen quite nicely while she concentrated on them. The skin around the tip was tight and shinny, slick with his juices. The veins stood out on his shaft, a roadmap to ecstasy. The tube that would eventually deliver the steaming hot cum to whatever orifice she desired was raised, a pleasing ventral protrusion that would help stimulate her in certain positions.

Ophelia ran her tongue along it. She was pleased with her younger lover. On the plane she had pretended to stretch several times just to look at him. Once she had caught him looking hard at one of the Cubans, a hutia, or brown tree rat, she recognized from her studies of other species. It was the one that had smiled at her. Kain's brow had been slightly furrowed as he concentrated on the rat, not quite giving him the stink eye. He was not as good at disguising his body language as he should be, she had realized. She would have to caution him about that.

His body language was telling her that a certain portion of him was ready for whatever she had in mind next. She circled it with her digits and drew her paw from tip to base, delighting in the tremors that it sent through him. It looked like he would cum any second, but she knew that he could take, and give, a lot more first. They had made love twice already that day, and this one would last a long time, long enough to suit her needs nicely. And speaking of long ... she had taken to joking calling him 'my little pony', because his feathery white fur had reminded her of her favourite childhood toy, and also because ... well, the answer was staring her in the face, so to speak. She extended her tongue and gave the beast a long, slow lick around its single eye.

The comparison reminded Ophelia of the group that had occupied the small first-class section on the plane. They had been a boisterous bunch. A collection of overweight, over adorned, middle-aged male horses and an equal number of much younger females. The females were also much slimmer, if you didn't count the bust area, where enough alterations had taken place to pay for three doctor's Lamborghinis. Ophelia had noted that while the males all wore wedding rings none of their female companions did.

One of the males, a potbellied pony with artificially black hair, the oldest and the leader by all appearances, had pinched the ass of a passing stewardess. His entourage laughed heartily at the look of constrained anger on the stewardess's face. The pony had been far from apologetic, and motioned the stewardess to come closer so he could pinch her again. He had that air of confidence that only great amounts of money or power, or both, can give. Ophelia had forced her expression to remain neutral, but inside she was writhing with disgust.

Ophelia had issues with abusive males. The world had two fewer of them because of her. That's why she was living in exile. But, considering the treat she was about to partake in, things could be worse.

She felt his tongue moving faster against her as her insides filled with wet, pleasant warmth. While he worked her clit with his mouth he extended a single digit into her slit, spreading the moisture. He probed inside for that spongy spot that swelled when it was teased, and found it. Angling his arm around, he dove his digit deeper, so that he could rub the spot and tap it rhythmically with the pad of the first joint. He pressed up from inside her while his lips pressed down around her clit, and she was acutely aware of the thin layer of flesh that separated the two. Her fluids were flowing freely now, leaking out and trickling down the sparse fur of her ticklish inner thigh. Even the way her muscles jumped as the droplets advanced one hair at a time felt good. She whished that this could go on forever.

But it could not. And while they had made love in marathon sessions each morning, afternoon and evening since arriving, she knew that it would end when day seven arrived, perhaps sooner. And, because of the trouble they were in, perhaps forever.

* * * * * * * * *

As they had gotten off the plane they had given each other the 'all clear' signal. She waited for him on the tarmac at the bottom of the stairs and once inside the airport they stood together like most of the other holiday couples, who were holding paws and looking around excitedly. Their arms had gone around each other's waists and Kain gave her a quick but intimate kiss as they followed the crowd towards the immigration booths. A dozen uniformed security agents were leaning against the walls, watching the tourists idly. The tree rat from the airplane was standing by a green door, watching the tourists as they lined up for inspection. The other Cuban nationals had already moved on to a separate customs area.

"Missed ya." He said.

"You too kid." She replied, giving his ass a squeeze.

Couples approached the booths together but were only allowed forward as individuals. Kain and Ophelia were near the back of the pack, and they had to wait almost twenty minutes for the crowd in front of them to thin. But that was okay, it would take at least that long for the luggage to be unloaded and if felt good just leaning on each other, giving mutual caresses and sharing the occasional kiss.

Just when they got to the yellow line where they would have to separate a pair of uniformed security agents had come silently up behind them.

"Senor, Senorita, this was please." They took Kain and Ophelia by the upper arms and guided them lightly, but insistently, toward a green door at the end of the row of booths. Ophelia, who usually took the lead in situations like this, gave Kain the signal to cooperate for now, but to be ready to break free when she did.

The door opened onto a short hallway that ended with another green door, a much sturdier one. Their escort stopped in front of it and one of them knocked. A muffled voice from inside bade them enter in Spanish.

They were led into a small room; an interrogation room from the look of it. There was an exit door on the far wall, flanked by another pair of security agents. There was a wooden table in the centre of the room, with a glaring lamp behind it. There was a large mirror mounted on the side wall, probably a one way glass, Kain thought. On the other side of the table sat the hutia from the airplane. He combed his dark whiskers with his claws as he regarded them. A flip of his paw toward two uncomfortable looking chairs opposite him indicated that they should sit. Their escort stayed back by the door they had entered.

Kain and Ophelia sat. They had planned for this eventuality, and waited until the interrogator made the first move.

"Allow me to introduce myself." The hutia spoke in slightly accented English. "I am Alejandro Garcia. I am an official with the Department of State Security, a division of the Interior Ministry." He pulled a leather folder from inside his jacket and flipped it open. There was a badge and an identification card with his picture inside. "My name, Alejandro, means protector, and that is also my job. I protect my country from threats. Now, your papers please." They held out their passports and tourist cards. The rodent looked them over, flipping from one to another as he took in every detail.

"Your tourist cards indicate that you are staying here in Cuba together, at the Playa Verde resort." His face gave no clue as to what was up as he regarded them.

"Yes. Is there something wrong with that?" Kain answered.

"Oh no. Even though you have different names and do not appear to be married. We have no archaic religious laws here in socialist Cuba and we pass no judgements on other's lifestyles." The rat said mildly. "But on the aircraft I could have sworn that you two did not know each other. Imagine my surprise when on arrival you act like newlyweds." He raised his brows and looked from one to the other inquisitively.

Kain breathed an inward sigh of relief. They had rehearsed a story in case anyone noticed, although no one had before this.

"We are married, officially, but several years ago our careers took us to different parts of the world." Kain began. "It put a considerable strain on our relationship and, well, neither of us is a saint." He spread his paws, as if apologising for his shortcomings. "We separated. Cassie took back her maiden name, but we kept in touch. Next month we will both be transferred to London by our respective companies. We decided to see if we could make one last go of it. If this week goes well we will consider getting back together. If not, we will file the divorce papers."

"We booked our trip together," Ophelia took up the story, "but found out that you only get assigned seating if you pay extra when you confirm the flight. Most of the seats were already taken by the time we learned this, so we decided that we would take whatever they gave us and not to talk to each other until we arrived here. Neither one of us particularly likes to travel and we wanted to keep the stress from interfering with our chances for reconciliation."

"How very interesting." The rodent's voice dripped sarcasm. "Your story is plausible, but not very likely. You both carry Canadian passports, but neither of you lives in Canada. You are both listed as Canadian citizens by birth, yet your accents are more American. As part of my duties I have studied languages and linguistics and you two lack the intonation and sentence structure common in Canadians."

"That's pretty presumptuous of you." Kain tried to feign offence. He had actually been born in Canada but raised in California's Silicon Valley. Ophelia was from coastal Virginia. "Just because we don't run around saying 'Hey hoseface, gonna meet me at Timmy's after a game of shinny for a double double' and adding 'eh' at the end of every sentence. Education, American television and five years living in Europe tends to even out the accent ... eh?"

Garcia sat tapping their passports against the side of his snout. He did not look convinced. Kain was nervous, but he hoped that the slight tremor he was experiencing would be taken for suppressed anger. Being discovered as Americans in Cuba, even expatriate Americans, would be a bad thing, what with the embargo still in effect. At least the hutia was from State Security and not from Cuba's ruthless intelligence and counter-intelligence agency, the G-2. His powers would be broad, but not unlimited. Kain held the rat's gaze and waited.

"I have other, more important work to see to, so I am going to let you continue on to your resort." Garcia said finally. "But I will keep these passports for now. No, don't bother to threaten me with your embassy." He put his paw up as Kain rose to protest. "It's not the first time I've done this and by the time they decide whether to make an official complaint or not you will either be cleared and out of Cuba or under arrest. If you have to change money I suggest you do it here in the airport. The banks all require passports to make the transactions." He gestured to the uniformed guards to escort the two out.

"Enjoy your stay in Cuba" Garcia called as they were led out of the door behind him. "I'm sure that we will have another opportunity to chat before you leave."

* * * * * * * * *

Ophelia tried to get her mind off the mess they were in. Kain's talented tongue and clever digits were helping, a lot, but a part of her mind refused to let it go. She moistened her lips and tilted his prick down so that she could take it comfortably in her mouth. Bobbing her head slightly she took it in a bit at a time, spreading slick saliva down its length. When her lips touched the furry base and the tip was lodged in the back of her throat she drew back in one slow movement, and then slid back to the base again. She kept it slow, maximizing the sensations for him, as that small unoccupied analytical bit of her brain reviewed their predicament.

From the first day it was obvious that they were being watched. The staff of the resort all seemed to recognize them, even when meeting them for the first time, and their faces froze in fake smiles while they talked with the two foreigners. Whenever they appeared at the bar or in one of the resort's restaurants the bartender or Maitre'd would pick up the phone and utter a single sentence before hanging up. A grain of sand carefully placed between the pages of a notebook left in their room safe was gone when they came back an hour later. The phone in their room could only reach the main desk.

Ophelia was convinced that their room was bugged, but as looking for the devices could be interpreted as suspicious behaviour they could not confirm that it was so. To keep on the safe side they only discussed their situation when they were walking on the beach away from the resort, where the wind and the surf would cover their conversation from long-range listening devices.

If the room was bugged, she thought, they would be straining to hear the slurping and sucking noises coming from the pair on the bed. If there was a good resolution pin-hole camera they would have enough footage for a few full-length porno films by now. She and Kain had gotten used to making love in less than total privacy. They had done it in the dorm rooms of the FOX Academy, in the security wing of the agency hospital, in the flying teacup ride at that theme park, and less private places. They weren't exhibitionists, but they weren't going to deny their urges either just because conditions were not ideal.

Kain had started to thrust his hips slightly in time with her swaying head. His tongue had fallen into the same steady rhythm. They could keep this up for an hour if they wanted, but sooner or later one would signal a desire to step up to the next level. Eyes closed, mind free to wander, Ophelia let the waves of pleasure coming from her cleft wash over her like the surf she could still hear in the background.

They discovered the full extent of their restrictions on the second full day at the resort, when they attempted to book a trip to the local market town. Although usually not required, the tour operators demanded to see their passports before they made the reservations. Since they could not produce them the operator would not book the trip, or any other expedition away from the resort. The main desk would not sell them time in the resort's Internet Café either, citing similar requirements. The bicycles, usually available just by showing the wrist bands guests wore, were similarly unobtainable, as was access to the rental scooters and cars. Even the taxi drivers refused their requests to drive them into town.

Testing the limits of their freedom, Kain and Ophelia had walked out of the lobby and headed down the lane leading to the public road. A pair of armed policemen in an old Russian jeep got out and stood up as they approached. Another pair on the far side of the intersection got on the radio at the same time. Kain and Ophelia turned back before getting halfway to them.

"Want to bet that the paddle boats will be unavailable also?" Kain asked in disgust.

"Hell, I'll bet that they won't even give us an extra beach towel for fear that we will make a raft and sail away on it." Ophelia had replied, trying to lighten the mood, but she had been worried. They could easily evade the resort security and escape at night but where would they go without friends or papers in a country that had security checkpoints at every municipal boundary? Even if they could make it to the Canadian Embassy in Havana the punishment FOX would mete out was much worse than whatever the Cubans would do to them.

"Tailholes." She remembered muttering on that occasion. She was reminded because Kain choose that moment to pull his sopping digit from her twat and rub the puckered orifice between it and her tail. The initial touch sent a spark up her spine, and she let him press harder against her anal aperture. She even rolled her hips slightly to push back. With a sensation that she could only compare to tearing silk, her tailhole spread slowly and around the pad of his digit. When it sealed itself around his first knuckle she felt him insert the thumb of the same paw in her vagina. He rubbed the thin layer of flesh that separated the two between his pads, all the while lapping at her clit. She let the sensations carry her away, or tried to.

"We could steal one of those little catamarans." Kain had suggested after encountering the checkpoints on the road. It was a good idea. He had learned to sail in private school and Ophelia's father had taught her how to navigate by the stars. Sailing to the Turks and Caicos, an island nation very friendly towards Canadians, would be easy. That evening they went for a midnight walk on the beach, and discovered that all the boats had been secured with bright new chains. The armed police that were patrolling the beach on foot and in a motorboat were an added deterrent.

"We could do this, if I can get my paws on some paper clips, salad oil, and two pairs of chop sticks." Ophelia muttered after seeing the padlocks and studying the patrol patterns.

"Let's wait it out." Kain had suggested. "Garcia's instincts may be right but he has no idea why we are here. He probably thinks that we're going to make contact with some dissidents. Maybe to trade some information or to help them escape Cuba. If we don't do anything suspicious he may let us leave, thinking that he has foiled whatever plot we came to perpetrate."

Ophelia had agreed, but intended to keep working on her escape plan and locating the resources she would need; just in case. In the meantime, they intended to get in as much sun and fun as they could.

Speaking of fun, Kain had managed to sink both his thumb and second digit in their respective holes until the pad on his palm was pressed against the short strip of skin that separated them. Inside he was running them up and down against each other on either side of the thin wall of flesh that separated the two channels, as if checking the quality of the material. His tongue was bearing down hard on her clit, flicking it back and forth relentlessly. If she let him continue like this she would come in his mouth after a few more moments.

His hips were jerking too, forcing his prick deeper down her throat. Ophelia sucked air through her snout and tried not to lacerate him with the large sabre-like incisors her breed was equipped with. Another minute and she would be drinking cum also. Not that she minded, but they had already had oral sex once today, and she was in the mood for something different. She pulled her head back and off him, leaving his prick bouncing forlornly in mid air. At the same time she reached down and pushed his head gently away from her groin.

She rolled onto her elbows and knees, his digits still buried deep inside her, certain that he would take the hint.

He did.

* * * * * * * * *

When they were not in their room yiffing they spent their time on the beach tanning and watching the other tourists.

There were no American tourists, what with relations between Cuba and the United States still strained. That felt strange, since there were usually so many of them at the other holiday spots. There were a lot of Canadians, and they tried to fill the void by being louder than usual. They could not quite master the art of assumed superiority that the Americans managed to convey wherever they went, although those from Toronto came close. Like the States, Canada was mainly populated by immigrants and their descendants, so many different species from the Europe, Asia and Africa were represented.

There were a lot of British couples, mostly badgers, skunks and some hedgehogs. The Brits were a bit reserved, but friendly once you got them talking. There was a fair number of Germans too, canines mostly. The Germans tended to stick together; the pack mentality, Kain guessed. There were a few Irish sheep, Spanish bulls, and a handful of French foxes.

Most of them were successful, older couples, and while many were if fair shape, few were anything to write home about. Only a few were in the same league as Kain and Ophelia. He noted that Ophelia in particular drew more stares than she gave. And why shouldn't she, he thought, watching her turn lithely on the bed. She had been dealt generous portions of breast and ass but everything in between she had developed through hard work and exercise. When she got up and stretched in the morning the ripping muscles looked like geological formations evolving. It was like watching one of those animations of how the continents were formed. When she sashayed from her beach chair down to the surf all eyes were on her, and Kain could read the fantasies forming behind them.

Fantasies like having her naked on her elbows and knees, her thighs and buttocks pulled tight. Breasts squeezed between forearms, nipples brushing the blanket that covered the bed. Knees slightly spread so you could see the delicate pink inner lips peeking out of her mons venus. Tail held high to expose the glistening hole that you had just pulled a digit out of, offering you a choice. Kain's cock throbbed painfully with desire.

A burst of raucous laughter from somewhere outside broke his concentration. The laughter was all too familiar, and reminded him that the Cuban security service was not the only fly in the ointment of this otherwise idyllic playground.

The party of rich Italians from the plane were also staying at their resort. At first they seemed to be a happy and lively, if irritating, bunch. The females were artificially endowed with slim legs, pouty lips, excessive makeup, and the tiniest of bikinis. The males were universally overweight with massive chests, big bellies and skinny legs. They wore heavy gold chains and tiny, tight Speedos that left nothing to the imagination, unfortunately. Ophelia whispered to him the first day that the leader, a pot-bellied pony with a two-tone coat, certainly was no Italian Stallion. Kain, who favoured roomy Bermuda shorts, had laughed out loud at that one. Many more witty comments followed, which had keep them snickering the rest of the day.

That was a good day, he reminisced. The comical Italian males and their obviously hired escorts had almost wiped the thoughts of Garcia from their minds. Just as the sight of Ophelia's swaying backside and twitching tail was currently making him forget everything else except the need to plunge his swollen cock into her. His prick, slightly deflated from the distraction, was rising again. When the tip was level with the dewy lily of her vagina he wrapped one paw around it and guided it closer, close enough for the tip to penetrate the outer lips. It looked dry, the saliva that had coated it already gone. He lifted and lowered it, re-lubricating the end with her juices. Ophelia made a delighted squeal as it passed over her clit, and wiggled back toward him. Another glut of laughter drifted in from the beach.

Kain and Ophelia had stopped laughing at the Italians the second day. Arriving early on the beach they had settled into a pair of the most comfortable chairs under one of the shade trees with an unobstructed view of the ocean. It was the best spot on the beach, and resort protocol had it that whoever claimed a set of chairs first by occupying them or leaving some personal items on them, like sun glasses or a book, had exclusive use of them for the remainder of the day. The Italians had showed up shortly after.

They had stopped dead in their tracks when they saw the fox and the leopard in the best spot. There was a short and violent argument, punctuated by the pony slapping one of the females repeatedly. From what Kain could gather, it had been her job to come early and claim the spot for the group, but she had forgotten. He rose to interfere when the slaps made her cry and cover her face, but Ophelia had put a paw on his arm to stop him.

"This is not our business." She had said, pointing to the beach attendants that were closing in on the group.

Just as she was closing in on him now. He had pulled his hips away as she scuttled back to him, but he could not withdraw any further. Putting a paw on each of her buttocks he stopped her advance when just the tip of his prick was inside her. Then, biting his lip in anticipation, he straightened his hips and let it slide slowly and steadily in. The warm wet folds of her quim surrounded him and welcomed him. When his pelvis came up against her he paused and let out his breath, unaware that he had been holding it. He wondered if what she was feeling was as good as what he was experiencing, and accepted her contented moan as evidence that it did. He pulled back.

He had sat back, anticipating that the big Cuban beach attendants, some sort of local lizards with thick torsos and curly tails, would deal with the abusive Italian. To his surprise they stood subdued as he turned his anger on them. He gestured at to where Kain and Ophelia reclined and spat in the sand at their feet. Then he turned his back on them and seemed to sulk. One of his cronies stepped forward and talked to the Cubans in hushed tones.

The Cubans turned and approached the Canadian pair, their heads bowed, eyes shifting back and forth nervously.

"You have to move." One of them mumbled toward the sand.

"Why?" Ophelia demanded in a tone that made the lizard's skin twitch.

"Senor Gallo has reserved this spot. His things were on the chairs. Someone has taken them off." The young fellow spoke reluctantly, aware that the Italians were watching him closely.

"Are you accusing us of theft?" Now Ophelia's voice was cold enough to freeze blood. The Cubans winced, hating the dilemma they had become entangled in, but their spokesperson managed to continue.

"No senora, no. It must have been hooligans, guests from another resort further down the beach."

"And what if ..." she had begun, showing her teeth, but Kain had stopped her this time.

"We have enough trouble." He had whispered. They had picked up their things and moved far down the beach without a backward glance. But the Italian's smug laughter had burned their backs with shame.

If only it had ended there, Kain thought as he reversed his stroke and drove his steel rod back into her velvet sheath, then they could concentrate on avoiding the suspicious Garcia, who showed up later that day asking questions of the staff. When Kain reached bottom again he paused just an instant before pulling back out again. He fell into a steady rhythm that Ophelia complimented by rolling her ass left and right. Her tail wrapped itself around his waist and helped pull and push him in time to her gyrations.

The Italian's spot was conveniently near the small restaurant and bar located on the beach. Guests were supposed to go there themselves to get their drinks, but even though the Italians were so close they had one of the beach attendants fetching drinks for them. When Kain went to get Ophelia a Daiquiri and a Cuba Libre for himself he stared at them with open distain. Another Italian tourist, a mountain hare from Sicily with some business experience in Cuba, had noticed the look and offered some advice.

"That pony is none other than the Napoli mobster Gino Gallo." He had informed Kain cautiously after introducing himself. "Gallo means 'Cocky', like a rooster, you know? He was baptised Dino when he was born, but that means 'Little Sword', a derogatory term used to describe males with a small penis. He changed it to Gino, 'Noble Born', after he took leadership of the gangs in Naples."

Kain noted that 'Gino' was again wearing a form-fitting bathing suit. "Dino indeed. The truth hurts most of all." He quipped unkindly.

The hare went pale. "Don't let him hear you talking like that." He cautioned. "He is a very nasty customer and he can do what he wants in this resort. He owns forty-nine percent of it openly, the most that a foreigner can legally own in any Cuban enterprise. But he has his Cuban partners ensnared in a complicated system of loans, grants, mortgages and financial obligations that effectively give him full control. Again, I caution you. He had his own mother whacked for holding out on him. She was an, uhm, entertainer, of sorts." The hare turned red under his grey fur.

"Like his current female companions, no doubt."

"Gallo likes to be seen surrounded by beautiful ladies. But it is rumoured that what he desires is not willing cooperation, or faked reluctance." The other Italian added darkly. "When his power slips in Naples there will be many a disappearance for the police to look into."

Ophelia's tail urged him in harder and faster. There was no feigned reluctance, role play or acting on their part. When you were a member of one of the world's most secretive spy agencies and your girl was an uncover assassin hunted by a hundred police agencies you didn't need to play games. Just being together under these circumstances was excitement enough, although they experimented with new positions and tested their endurance occasionally.

Kain knew that he could stay hard for quite a while in their current position. He could even outlast her. Her clit was being stimulated by the slap of his balls against it and the ridge formed by the tube his spooge would travel through. It stood out from his blood-swollen member, ready for action. The sweet spot inside was likewise being excited by the end of his prick, but that was the least sensitive part of his equipment. Ophelia would have to clench her Kegel muscles to grip his cock tighter if she wanted him to come first. But she seemed content to let him pleasure her for now. If things became too stimulating he could slow down, clamp down on his own pelvic floor to prevent ejaculation, or switch appendages until his cock calmed down a bit. As he had eventually calmed down himself after their humiliating experience on the beach, but the good mood had not lasted. Not after they had found their chambermaid crying in a remote corner of the resort.

The card on the desk when they arrived announced that the cleanliness of their room was the responsibility of Catalina. Catalina Fernandez, as it turned out. Ms Fernandez was a hutia, as were many of the local staff, and a very pretty one at that. She had a lively spirit and an air of innocent joy about her that made her a pleasure to be around. Ophelia had taken quite a liking to her, and vowed to leave behind her makeup, cosmetics and other female necessities, all commodities hard to come by in socialist Cuba, for the cute little rodent.

Kain wondered if Ophelia would leave the gels, oils and flavoured lubricants she kept in the bedside table along with the standard feminine hygiene products. He hoped not, unless she intended to replace them before their next rendezvous. Thinking of them, he reached over and fumbled in the drawer. He pulled a plastic tube out and squinted to read the label without his glasses. Mentholated mint gel, he read. Alright, it cools and_lubes_. The selection gave him an idea.

He stopped thrusting and unwrapped Ophelia's tail from around his waist. She turned her head to look over her shoulder, but when she saw the tube in his paw she lowered it and began to purr in anticipation. Kain pulled his cock completely out. The pressure of the blood trapped inside kept it up, despite its sheer weight. Kain squirted a fair amount of the bright green gel on one paw before spreading it along and around his throbbing member. The menthol in the ointment numbed and cooled his overheated cock like he had stuck it in a freezer. When he plunged in back into the warm hole it had recently abandoned the contradictory sensations of heat from inside and a layer of delicious coolness would be exquisite. Ophelia would experience the same battle of the senses as he spread it inside her. His cum would be a fiery point of light inside her when it burst forth.

The Italian mobsters' suite was located at the end of Kain and Ophelia's building, overlooking the beach. The two lovers had taken to using the stairs at the other end, furthest from the services and seldom used by others, in order to avoid further confrontations with the dangerous pony and his entourage. It was the soft sound of sobbing that had alerted them to the presence of Catalina hiding under the stairs. The young hutia would not come out when they asked her what the problem was, so Ophelia, who knew some Spanish, went in to comfort her.

Slowly, between tears and sobs, the story came out. Each year when Gino Gallo came to inspect his holdings and corrupt the local officials he would cast his eye about over the local females until he found one he fancied. The more innocent and pure the better. He would try to seduce them in his crude manner, offer money and make promises. Those that resisted, the incorruptible ones, were those that he must have. This time Catalina had caught his eye, and after three days of attempting to lure her into his room he had sent his companions out after her.

"No one dares to intervene." She wailed. "No one dares to help me. If I leave my job until he is gone I will not be allowed to return, and I am the only source of income for my family until my younger brothers are old enough to quit school. The tips pay for meat so they will grow strong, and for foreign medicine for my ailing mother. Oh, the shame when she finds out that I have been dishonoured. It would kill her, and my brothers would seek revenge. The police will cut them down before they even get close to that pig of a pony. No, it is better that I kill myself now than be the cause of my family's destruction."

Argue as they might, neither Kain nor Ophelia could change the rodent's attitude. She was determined to die rather than be raped. It seemed that the only solution was to keep the gangster and his cohorts away from the pretty young maid.

"We'll watch your back." Ophelia had assured her.

Of course, at the moment, Kain was watching Ophelia's back. Her backside more specifically. It was turned up to him invitingly, fully exposed as he held her tail up and out of the way with his dry paw. The smaller of the two holes there seemed to wink at him. There was still some of the green mint lube on his other paw, and he reached out to her with it. Hesitating for only a second as he decided, he directed it to the puckered opening just below her tail, and slid a goo covered digit in.

Ophelia's purrs deepened, evidently approving his choice. Her tail caressed the side of his face as he swirled his digit around inside her tailhole, spreading the cooling gel and greasing her up for the next act. She clenched her buttocks in response, sucking his digit down deeper. When she relaxed again he drew it out slowly and shuffled into position. He spread her cheeks and lowered the tip of his cock to the glistening fissure.

Ophelia had helped Catalina to stand. They had to hurry if she was to get away before the mobsters found her. Already they could hear the click of their trendy hard-heeled boots on the stone walkway as they searched the shrubbery and utility closets for the errant maid.

"Kain, you delay them. Catalina, come with me." Ophelia had insisted as she led the frightened rodent up the stairs.

Kain had taken off his colourful shirt and lay down on the off-white marble stairs in just his cream-coloured Bermuda shorts, his pale fur making him almost invisible. Two of the Italian's boys turned the corner just then and saw the lower half of the maid's uniform and her fuzzy brown tail disappearing around the corner. They came at a run, and tripped over the reclining fox. The air was knocked out of them when they went sprawling. They picked themselves up and gave Kain a murderous look, but they must have had orders from their boss to bring the maid back at all costs because they quickly turned and took up the chase again. The delay would not have given Ophelia enough time to get the maid to the next stairwell, so the Italians were sure to catch up to her somewhere between the two. Kain felt sorry for them.

Ophelia had filled in the details later that evening. She had turned out the lights along the corridor and then stashed Catalina in their room as they passed by. She had continued to run down the exterior hallway alone. When the Italians reached that level it was dark enough for them to mistake the fleeing leopard in her beach robe for the maid they sought and they had redoubled their efforts to catch up. When they came to the next stairwell, however, there was no sign of their prey, and they had stopped to catch their breath and cradle their heaving bellies. That's when Ophelia had dropped from the ceiling and knocked their heads together.

She collected Catalina and escorted her to a hole in the outer wall that she had pondered using for her backup escape plan, and returned to help Kain pose the bodies so that it would look like they tripped and fell down the stairs. They left them that way, unconscious but still alive. Perhaps that had been their greatest mistake.

Kain felt a moment of regret as he eased his stiff cock into her anus an inch at a time. Despite the lubricant he went slowly, knowing that half the fun was the gradual exposure of more of the tender inner flesh to stimulating contact. The battling sensations of hot and cold would help send jolts of pleasure through her, and him. Carefully, dipping deeper with each thrust, Kain impaled her on his straining spear until his abs rested against her glutes, and his balls sat against her warm wet pussy.

She lay her tail down along her spine and buried her head in the blankets that were bunched up on the bed. Kain leaned over and took most of his weight on one outstretched arm. He wrapped the other around her waist and reached under until he could touch his own balls. Then he rose up on his toes and began to thrust, long and hard and deep, as his digits sought the elusive clitoris. Finding the nub of hard flesh hidden in the folds he rubbed it in little circles. Looking like some one-armed athlete doing push-ups, Kain tried to pace himself. He rose and fell as his steamy cock appeared and disappeared and his digit came around and around.

* * * * * * * *

Trouble seemed to be coming around regularly after their encounter with Gallo's troops. They seemed to run into the pony's posse everywhere, literally. They were bumped in the corridors, their plates were knocked out of their paws in the buffet, and if they passed on the stairs one of the Italians would try to trip them. Fortunately their FOX training and natural athleticism made them more agile than their middle-aged and overweight antagonists. It was Catalina's regular day off, so they did not have to worry about protecting her at the same time, but the attacks grew increasingly violent throughout the day.

Just after dark, while Kain and Ophelia were massaging each other's bruises and hoping to be left alone long enough to get intimate, the fire alarm went off. They grabbed their robes and rushed out the door. Ophelia, in the lead, encountered the taut trip wire someone had strung just below knee level and she went flying toward the railing that separated her from a four-story drop. It broke away from the building where the nuts had been removed from the bolts. Kain was only able to save her by throwing himself flat on the hard stone walkway and grabbing her by the ankles.

The following day was quiet, thanks to the return of Kain and Ophelia's other problem, the State Security Officer Garcia. They saw him several times, talking with the staff at the front desk, interrogating the chamber maids, directing the police stationed about the resort. Not only did his presence keep the Italians off of them, it solved the problem of how to protect Catalina when she returned to work. Garcia had gathered all of the staff for interviews and he spent a considerable amount of time with the ones that serviced their wing of the building.

But the Italians were always lurking about. They did not threaten them directly, but they noted the movements of the maid and waited for Garcia to leave. Fortunately for Catalina she was the last to be interviewed, long after her shift had ended, and the security officer escorted her off the resort at the end of the day.

In the buffet that night the two spies were left mercifully alone and were able to enjoy their meal and a bottle of local wine. While they ate dessert one of the Italian's female companions approached their table.

"You leave here soon?" She asked in heavily accented English. Kain admitted that their bus left for the Holquin airport early in the morning three days hence.

"Don Gino, he say the police been asking about you." The trollop continued. "He say best for you to leave here on time. He can wait that long."

"What do you mean, 'he can wait that long'?" Ophelia had asked suspiciously.

"For that bit of rat tail maid he after." She shrugged. "He say he understand you like her, wanna be protective. But what Don Gino wants he gets, sooner or later. He don't gotta leave after one week like you. He can stay as long as it takes. Nothing happen to her tomorrow, next day. Day after, you leave, no problem with the cop Garcia, Don Gino see to that. But if you cause more trouble you go to Havana for interrogation, not home, and Don Gino gets the rat girl anyway."

Ophelia had looked like she was ready to launch herself at the hooker. Kain saw that look in her eyes that she used to have back when the death of father still haunted her. Under the table he had placed one of his feet firmly on hers, and above it he had taken her paw in both of his. The Italian's messenger did not seem to realise how close she was to death.

"Don Gino says your choice. Go home or go with Garcia. If you don't have an unfortunate accident first. You decide." And with that she turned tail and sauntered back to the large table by the pool that was set aside for the Italians at eat at every night.

The message was clear. If they insisted on getting in the way they would be gotten rid of. One way or another. Kain and Ophelia had returned to their room without speaking and went straight to bed without making love.

That had been the day before. Today they had woken up at dawn and gone for a long silent walk along the beach. The police kept them in sight but did not interfere, a constant reminder of their dilemma. They had returned and picked at their breakfast before returning to the beach where they ignored the beach chairs and swam instead. It was windy and the surf was high. The red flags were out and no one else had dared to defy the waves. Ophelia had swum hard against the current, silently challenging Kain to keep up. Back and forth along the beach they had gone, arms pumping, legs kicking, sucking in as much salt water as air, until they crawled forth exhausted.

They had lain on their backs in the sand, letting the sun and the wind dry them. When they were dry enough to brush the fine sand from their fur Ophelia had stood up and taken Kain by the paw, to lead him back to their room. Once inside she had undone the knots that held her bikini and let it drop to the floor. They had still not spoken a word to each other since supper the night before, but the look in her eyes told him of her need. Their quandary was tearing her up inside, and she needed to be comforted.

Kain had stepped out of his shorts and into her arms for what promised to be a long, fierce release of passions.

* * * * * * * *

Now here they were, several hours later, locked together for the third time since dropping their bathing suits by the door. This was proving to be the longest and most strenuous session of their trip thus far. Both of them were breathing hard and unevenly, grunting in effort between moans and wails that escaped from overburdened lungs. Gone was the tenderness of earlier couplings, it was combat now.

Kain, balanced on his toes and the digits of one paw, drove his well-lubricated cock in and out of her tailhole for several long minutes. He clenched his pelvic control muscles to keep from coming as the numbing effect of the mentholated gel wore off. He could feel Ophelia clenching also as she too strove to hold off. She was also squeezing her ass cheeks together rhythmically, milking his rod as it pistoned in and out.

Ophelia was no longer on her knees. She was up on her toes too, her legs straight and her ass high. Her shoulders had come off the mattress, and her head was barely touching it. It was her upper body that took their combined weight, paws flat on the bed and arms cocked like she was caught halfway through doing a push-up. Her tail, always a full participant, had slid out from between them and wrapped itself around Kain's bushy white one. It held his tail out of the way while its tip rubbed the back of his testicles, making it all the more difficult for him to hold back.

Ophelia turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, her neck straining. "Let's finish this." She growled.

"Yes." He answered, knowing that she was not referring to their current state of impending orgasm, but first things first.

Kain redoubled his efforts and concentrated on the how her ring felt as it his cock slid in and out of it. His paw massaged her clit furiously, the digits dipping inside the sopping hole now and again to keep it moist. Ophelia spread her arms and legs until her breasts were pressed against the bed and only her hips were raised. She dug at the mattress with digits and toes as Kain's prick rumbled into her, her tail still rubbing between his legs.

Kain was the first to come. As the swelling in his balls became impossible to contain he drove his cock as deep as it would go. His balls came to rest on the paw that was working Ophelia's slit and he felt them jerk against his knuckles as they went off. Wad after wad of spooge shot through him, forcing it way past the ring of flesh that was clamped around the base of his shaft. It shot out of him with such force that his hips bucked with the recoil. Every muscle on his body was standing out as he threw his head back and howled to the ceiling.

Ophelia joined him an instant later. Her insides melted into liquid ecstasy and sprayed out between the digits of the paw covering her vagina. He continued to tease her clit even as it retreated deep into the folds of her tender mound, driving her wild as bolt of electricity coursed through her body. She gnashed her teeth and began stuffing the blanket in her mouth to keep from biting her own tongue. A ripping noise indicated that they may have some damages to pay for when they checked out. It wouldn't be the first time.

All the strength went out of Ophelia and she melted into the mattress with a sigh. Kain felt the tension drain from him too as he rode her down and collapsed on top of her. They lay like that for a while, both too tired to move, but it was difficult to breathe in that position, so eventually Kain gathered enough strength to roll off of her. He lay on his back on an angle across the bed, paws behind his head and one leg bent. His limp penis lay across his thigh, the last of his spooge still dribbling from it.

Ophelia rolled over too and tucked herself against him. She reached down and squeezed his cock, gently running it through her paw as it cooled. He brought one arm down from behind his head and wrapped it around her, his paw coming to rest on her left nipple.

"We're going to need a few things." He said, idly toying with her breast.

"I know just where to find everything." She replied, giving his penis a pat.

* * * * * * * *

There is always some degree of thievery wherever one goes, but the reliance on tourism and the honest nature of the Cubans themselves kept the pilfering at the big resorts to a minimum. So most of the items that disappeared that afternoon were assumed to be mislaid, and were not missed for days. Even if they had realized that those items were stolen, it is doubtful that anyone would have imagined the use they would be put to.

Cutlery was no problem, guests were always wandering out of the buffet with a little snack and the resort was used to finding forks, spoons and knives in the rooms. String, tape and a few tools all proved to be easy to acquire. These kinds of things were left at the worksite when the labourers went to siesta, and several portions of the resort were being renovated so there was a good selection.

The evening's entertainer was a little disturbed when he came to rehearse and could not get the piano to cooperate. A quick check revealed that the string for high 'C' was missing; not broken, but completely gone. He scratched his head and adjusted his repertoire accordingly.

The necessary electronics were a little more difficult to acquire.

The director of entertainment was cleaning up after another interactive show in the theatre when he felt the presence of someone nearby. Turning and looking up brought his snout directly into the cleavage of a rather well endowed leopard of some sort. Unlike the muscular beach attendants in their skimpy Speedos, the short comical gecko was not used to being hit upon by the ladies. The leopard asked him a question in a language that the Cuban did not understand. She tried gesturing, miming what she wanted. She was no good at it, but it certainly made her breasts bounce in entertaining ways. His buggy eyes locked on the bumps her nipples made in her bikini top, his mind foggy with the possibilities. He neither heard nor saw the white paw that slipped through the stage curtain and removed two of his remote microphones and headsets.

The clerk in the clothing shop, however, was not susceptible to the ladies. He had a fine eye for fashion and a keen sense of style, but no interest in the female anatomy beyond how to drape it in expensive designs. But when the young Arctic fox asked for his help fitting a pair of light, tight, form-fitting trousers, his ears perked up. He would have to check the fit around the hips and groin of course, just to make sure that nothing was ... constrained. When the young fox came out of the changing room with evidence that he too was excited at the prospect the clerk forgot all else, including the female cloud leopard that was examining the sunscreen display by the other cash.

She was gone by the time he was finished with the fox, breathless and somewhat disappointed that he did not get a room number. Maybe tomorrow, the kit did seem a little nervous, and it was time to close up anyway. He shut off the laptop that kept track of the transactions at his station. He did not even glance at the other clerk's station to see if she had turned off her laptop too. It was not his job, and he still had lusty visions related to the ridged and rigid torpedo he had felt through the thin cotton of the fox's pants filling his mind. They would blame each other the next day when it was discovered missing.

* * * * * * * *

"That wasn't so bad was it?" Ophelia asked when Kain rejoined her in their room.

"He squeezed my root." Kain complained as he pulled a seven-inch chunk of raw carrot out of his pants. They had pilfered it off a truck parked by the kitchen. "Any harder and he would have broken it. What would I have done then, eh?" He asked, waving the licentious vegetable in her face.

"Feigned either great pain or great pleasure, or both." She replied dryly. She handed the store's laptop to him. "You sure you can reprogram this to do what we want?"

"Piece of cake." He said, his embarrassment forgotten now that he had some virgin circuit boards to violate. Kain placed it on the desk and pulled up a chair. He absently put the carrot in his mouth and started chewing on it as he turned on the computer and watched the start-up script roll. "It connects to the resort intranet automatically. That's good, saves time cracking it. But it's all in Spanish!"

Ophelia leaned over and examined the screen. "That means home," she pointed, "and guest list, and billing, and security systems." Kain opened the last and she read the submenu for him. "Wait," she said, "I'll make a list."

"When did you learn Spanish?" Kain asked while he examined the contents of the security folders.

"Back when my Dad was a Navy SEAL. But I'm picking up a couple of new languages every year now. Helps with the work." Kain could imagine that knowing a lot of languages would come in handy when one was a top-notch assassin like her.

The bed was covered with electronics, cables, and wires that they had liberated from around the resort. He selected a Bluetooth device and plugged it into the laptop. He turned on the headsets they had taken from the theatre. After a few minutes he was able to synchronize them all together.

"We now have secure communications." He announced, handing one set to her. "How's the ninja gear coming?" He looked over to where Ophelia was bending and twisting cutlery and several small tools into interesting shapes.

"I wouldn't recommend it for everyday use, and it is going to leave some interesting marks for the forensics types to puzzle over." She held up her paws, showing the forks she had taped to her wrists and bent to form climbing hooks. "But it will do. Cracked the security system yet?"

"Oh yeah. It was no challenge at all. All the alarms and motion detectors in the VIP suite are off. All of the doors will open to your key card, and I changed the code on their safe just in case they have guns in there." He pushed the headset back off his ears and gave her a concerned look. "Are you sure that you want to do this?"

"It's the only way to keep him off Catalina." She shrugged. "Garcia has been around more and more often, questioning the staff. He's probably broken our cover IDs, so he'll never let us leave Cuba anyway. At least this way we can save the maid and however many others he might molest before someone else gets him. I hear that he is an unpopular guy back in Naples. Maybe they'll assume that one of his competitors did him in."

Kain had his doubts, but he said nothing. Ophelia had a lot of bad karma to work off, and since it looked like this would be her last opportunity to earn brownie points with the big guy, who was he to complain? The worst part was that they would not have time to make an escape attempt afterward, and security was sure to be increased after Gallo was discovered. With only one more full day and night left before they were due to depart they would not have time to plan a new escape route.

Kain hid his unease. "Go get 'em kid." He said, giving her the thumbs up sign.

"Oh yeah." She grinned, showing more teeth than the legendary T-Rex as she snapped the piano wire. She had wound the ends around two wooden pegs stolen from the games room. The wire garrotte was a traditional assassination tool of Italian mob. "You know how I love the dominant males." And with that she doused the lights and slipped through the curtains to the balcony. Kain waited thirty seconds for her to clear the area before he closed the door and turned the lights back on.

"Poor bastard." He mumbled. He adjusted the settings on the laptop screen before activating the microphone. "Can you hear me okay?" He was sending the scrambled signal over one of the resorts intranet channels normally used for billing purchases to guest rooms during the daytime.

"Got you. You tracking my progress?" Ophelia replied. Although Kain had disabled the security systems he could still monitor them from the converted laptop.

"No problem." He advised her. "There is no activity in the target area. The roof is clear and the nearest guard at ground level is fifty feet away." She would be coming across the rooftops and down the outer wall to the air conditioning duct. He would access the maintenance system to stop the fans long enough for her to pass through, then she was on her own.

"I'm in." She said when she was inside the Italian's suite. "He's not in the salon. I'm going to check the bedroom." Several seconds of silence followed. "I can see him." She whispered. "Jesus he doesn't waste time. He has a local girl in here and it looks like she's been beaten half to death." Her rising anger came clearly through the headphones.

"How is she?" Kain asked with concern, and then remembered where Ophelia was. "Has she, uh, seen you?"

There were a few moments of silence before Ophelia answered. "Looks like he drugged her. She's unconscious, but she'll live. He's passed out drunk himself."

Kain noticed a slight edge in the sound quality. That sort of distortion was usually caused by multiple signals too close together. But there should not be any other remote equipment working this late, especially in the vicinity of the pony's suite. The intervals between interfering frequencies along the electromagnetic scale were well known, so he was able to guess at the offending signal fairly easily. He found the source in less than a minute. Decoding the signal took another few seconds.

It was a video feed with an audio track. He directed the steam to a video player and his screen lit up. The picture was tinted green, indicating a light-intensification camera was being used. The scene was a bedroom with three figures in it. Only one was moving.

"Oh oh. I can see you on the screen."

"What?" She whispered harshly. "What do you mean you can see me?"

"Someone has him under surveillance. The signal is being sent by radio, just like we're using, but much more sophisticated. It's a professional job."

Ophelia swore under her breath. "Can you access the recorder? Erase it from the time I entered?"

"No," he said regretfully. "It's an omni-directional transmitter. The receiver could be anywhere. The best I can do is jam it, but that could set off an alarm and alert them, if they are not watching you already."

"So they are either on the way or will see this when they come to check their tapes, tomorrow probably." She said flatly. "We're screwed either way."

"Yes." Kain had to struggle to match her neutral tone. He knew what she meant. Whether they killed Gallo or not her presence in the mobster's room would be enough to earn them a trip to Havana in the back of a windowless van. There would be no one to stop Gallo from molesting the little maid. If he were alive, that was. In other words, there was no turning back now.

On the screen he saw Ophelia move away from the small female figure on the floor to stand by the head of the bed. The audio track from the parallel signal carried the sounds of the pony's snores. She slid into the Italian's bed, pressing herself against him gradually, like a warm breeze on a spring morning. He smiled in his sleep, and leaned back against her. She tickled his throat, and his head came up as he unconsciously enjoyed the sensation. Ophelia slipped the garrotte around his neck.

"Dino." She whispered. "Dino. Mama's calling. Time to go home Dino"

Kain saw the pony's eyes open, still dull from alcohol and the violence he had inflicted on the girl. "Mama?" The Italian asked, confused. "Mama is gone. And my name is Gino now."

"You can see Mama again, and you will always be her little Dino." Ophelia crooned as she tightened the wire. "And when you see her, tell her that Ophelia says Hi." As she spoke she tightened the noose, making Gallo's eyes bug out. His paws came up to grope at the wire but he was too late, it was already embedded in his flesh.

Kain looked away. This was Ophelia's area of expertise, and Silver's. Even his fellow agent Marcel was able to perform this kind of hit without regret, but Kain could not. Not like this, not in cold blood. Maybe he lacked the passion required to be a true field agent, he thought. He reached out and turned the volume down so he would not have to listen to the victim's final few gurgles and grunts. Thank God these things don't transmit smell.

* * * * * * * *

The next day was their last full day at the resort. Kain and Ophelia rose early as usual, but stayed up in the resort after breakfast rather than head for the beach. By nine o'clock a barely perceptible increase in activity indicated that something was going on. Most of the other tourists failed to notice, but the two agents were trained observers. They noticed the tension in the employees and the increase in traffic toward the VIP suite. Security staff and then police officers headed that way but did not come back. The pony's entourage failed to appear.

Kain and Ophelia were sitting by the pool where they could watch the lobby and the approach to the Italian's suite. Just after ten o'clock Garcia showed up. He strode through the lobby with his head down and his fuzzy brown tail whipping back and forth in agitation. Halfway to the wing that held the murder scene he stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face the pool. He stared hard at the fox and the leopard, a strange expression on a face. He almost looked like he was in pain. Kain and Ophelia stared back. After what must have been a full minute he broke off and turned away. He continued toward the suites, but now his tail dragged behind him.

"He's lost his happy thoughts." Ophelia observed. Kain frowned after the hutia. He was having a little trouble finding his happy thoughts himself. He went to the bar for some strong drinks for the two of them. They settled in to await their fate.

A van, the coroner's probably, was backed up to the corridor leading to the suite. The body of the van blocked the view of the body being brought out to it. Soon after that the Italian's party was trotted to an unmarked bus, overweight males and over endowed females alike. A squad of skinks carrying forensic kits entered. A dazed and confused local girl was brought out by a nurse and left in a police car. One by one hotel staff members were brought to the suite, where they were presumably interrogated by the Security Service Officer. They saw Catalina being escorted in. She stayed inside a long time and left in tears.

No one came to talk to them. No one at all.

Kain and Ophelia stayed by the pool until late that night. They drank steadily, but slowly, and skipped supper. Finally they gave up and went back to their room. With nothing else to do, they packed their bags and lay down on the bed, fully dressed. Neither slept that night, both fully expecting Garcia to burst into their room at the head of a police SWAT team any minute.

* * * * * * * *

They got up before alarm went off. It was another perfect day in Cuba, sunny and warm, with just a hint of breeze to help cool you off. Too bad they had to leave. As they left their room, the beach towels left on the bed as instructed, a maid scuttled over to check for damage and missing items. She was a hutia, like Catalina, but this one was a stranger to them. Ophelia hoped that the cosmetics, toiletries and cash she had left by the card with Catalina's name on it would find its way to the little rodent.

They ate breakfast before checking out. There were no extra charges on their bill as they had not made any calls, booked any trips, or ordered any foreign alcohol during their stay. All the towels were accounted for, and they must have missed the torn sheets. Kain took their bags down the ramp to the pile waiting to be loaded on the bus to the airport. They took one last stroll around the grounds.

The security was just as heavy as before. While the police seemed to be ignoring them, Kain and Ophelia did not test their limits.

"Where do you think it will happen?" Kain asked, referring to the inevitable arrest.

"Away from the resort." Ophelia, the tactical expert, answered. "They will want to isolate us to reduce the collateral damage as well as the chance of anyone reporting the arrest when they get home. At the airport probably. "

At nine forty-five the two agents dutifully got in line for the bus to the airport. They had no idea how to proceed once they got there. Garcia still had their passports and tourist cards and they would need both to get their boarding pass, the first step in clearing the airport bureaucracy.

Sure enough, when they got to the airport a security agent in plain clothes, but obvious for what he was all the same, intercepted them. He directed them to the same door they had entered through seven days before. Kain noticed a phalanx of uniformed guards that just happened to be lounging in a semicircle around them, leaving only the route to the door clear. Dropping their bags in the middle of the lobby, he took Ophelia's paw and they headed to their fate.

The interrogation room had been reversed since their last visit. Now the pair of uncomfortable chairs was on the lobby side of the room while the lamp and single chair was on the other. Garcia was seated on the other side, as before. He gestured for them to sit, and they did. When the door closed they were alone in the room with Garcia. But there was probably someone watching through the one-way glass, ready to back the rodent up at the first sign of violence.

"Did you enjoy your stay?" Garcia asked. He almost sounded interested, but not quite.

"The beach was fine, but we didn't get a chance to see much else." Kain answered dryly.

"One should not spend their vacation rushing around. Vacations are for unwinding." The handsome hutia lectured. "You take my last trip to Italy. I was in Rome, Sardinia, Milan, Naples. I had no rest at all, but that was a business trip." He put his arms on the table and leaned forward.

"I was in Italy consulting with Interpol and the Italian authorities about organized crime. When Cuba opened the island to tourism we needed the money, but we did not want the drugs or prostitution that comes with it, so we tried to keep the criminals out of the resort business. We were not always successful. The Italian found murdered, for example, was believed to be have corrupted several local and provincial officials. So he was put under surveillance. By me."

"Gallo was known to have connections with many local officials. Although he was only allowed to own forty-nine percent of this resort by law he arranged loans and investments for the Cuban partners, putting them heavily in his debt. He did the same for the local chief of police and the provincial regulators. Corruption is one crime we still inflict the death penalty for here in socialist Cuba. Once he had them compromised they had to cooperate with his more blatant schemes. Drugs, gambling, species trafficking, cub pornography." The rat shook his head sadly. "It was as bad as under Batista."

"What has that got to do with us?" Ophelia asked in an indignant voice. She had no hope of bluffing her way out, but she needed more time to assess the situation. The door had locked behind them, she had heard the tumblers turn. The door opposite would also be locked. If she could get Garcia mad, or bored, enough to move around, maybe she could spot where he kept the key. Then, whether they were being watched or no, she would pounce, and she and her lover would make a run for it.

"Well, as to that, Gallo also had connections in America. A good portion of the drugs he shipped through Cuba went there, and the females he smuggled went to the brothels of Miami and New York. When you two showed up I thought that you were American mafia, or maybe CIA agents working with them again. Although it has been a while they have worked together in the past, attempting to assassinate our leader and his brother. And you, my dear," He game Ophelia a beaming smile, "look and move like a killer if I ever saw one. Gracious, balanced, beautiful." Ophelia's face went red from the compliment, Kain's face went red with jealousy. "I was convinced that you were bad news, and had decided to detain you here for a full background check."

The rodent reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved a ring of keys attached to a small penknife. He used the blade to clean his claws while he spoke. Ophelia noted the old brass key that would be a match for the lock on the door. She tensed to leap, but at the last second a paw restrained her. She looked at Kain in puzzlement. He was looking Garcia in the eyes, the red glow of hate gone from his face.

"Had decided?" Kain said with emphasis.

"I had." Garcia shrugged. "But the obviously professional hit has caused a panic amongst the local officials. They are falling over each other trying to get immunity for turning the rest in. Good thing, surveillance was producing nothing but evidence of his sexual deviations, until last night that is." The rodent pushed himself away from the table and stood up. "So really, whoever did this has done me a favour."

He used the key that Ophelia had guessed would fit to open the door leading to the departure lounge. "They will be calling your flight soon. I took the liberty of having your baggage put on board. You had better hurry to the departure gate." He reached inside his jacket, produced their confiscated passports, and held them out.

Kain and Ophelia don't move.

Garcia frowned. "You are free to go. Go."

Ophelia remained seated, her arms folded across her breasts and her legs crossed, an altogether uncooperative pose. "What gives Alejandro? Clearing up your little corruption case is not enough for you to risk your career letting us go. What's the catch?"

The hutia sighed and sat down again, placing their passports on the table between them. "There is no catch, but as you are still suspicious let me tell you something of life here in Cuba. Since the breakup of the Warsaw pact and the Soviet Union we have suffered greatly. They used to subsidize our economy to taunt the Americans. But when they dissolved we were left on our own. The Americans, hoping to break us once and for all, kept up the embargo. We had to find new markets, make new treaties, open our borders to foreign investment from Europeans, Canadians and the Chinese. Now the tourist industry employs more Cubans than any other sector of the economy and is the single greatest source of the foreign currency we need to buy oil and medicines from abroad."

"Everyone has a relative or two working as servers, beach attendants, or maids. My sister's daughter, for example, is a maid in the Italian's resort. But she is a very bright girl. She was accepted in university to study medicine, but she had to leave to find work to pay for her mother's foreign medicines, at least until her little brothers are old enough to work. One day though, she will be a doctor, despite the low pay doctors receive here. That is unusual in itself, most young people just want to get into work programs for hospitality management, or to find work abroad. But Catalina is different."

Garcia's face hardened and his voice deepened. "We come from a very old and traditional family. A family of bureaucrats, policemen, soldiers and other servants of the public. It is the highest form of duty to become a doctor. We are all very proud of her ambitions. It would break her poor mother's heart if anything were to happen to interfere with them." Now Garcia looked away. Kain noticed a tear leak from one of his eyes. "Catalina is a good girl, a traditional girl, with strong beliefs about family honour. Her name means pure. She would stay that way." Garcia noticed the tear and wiped it with the back of his paw. He looked up, his eyes, rimmed with red, fixed on theirs. "Nothing is more valuable than the well being of one's family, si? Now please," he gestured toward the door, "otherwise you will miss your plane."

The urgency in his expression told them of the risk he was taking. He was the hero of the moment but very soon others would ask what had happened to the mysterious Canadian couple whose passports he had confiscated. He could only help them for so long.

"If you tremble at every injustice then you are a comrade of mine." Ophelia said. Kain looked at her in surprise. He recognized the quote from Ernesto "Che" Guevara, one of the heroes of the Cuban revolution, from his expensive private school education.

"True." Garcia replied. "But he also said, 'it is a sad thing to have no friends, but it is even sadder not to have enemies'. Clever ones, at least, are a stimulating challenge." He stood again, and swept his arm to indicate the door, like a courtier from the Spanish nobility he was descended from.

Ophelia stood and walked around the table. She leaned in to the rodent and placed a kiss on each of his cheeks. Kain followed her, but merely shook the rodent's paw and mumbled his thanks. He scooped up their passports, and found their boarding passes inside. Taking Ophelia around the waist he led her through the door. The tail-end of the line for boarding the plane was just leaving the terminal, and they hurried to catch up.

Garcia had reserved good places for them, in first class where there were only two seats on each side of the aisle. They settled in, confident that their bags would meet them in Italy, where they would part ways again. Ophelia would go back to the secret lair of the Perfect Stalker, and Kain would change identities and return to Ottawa. He would be back at work in the operations centre the next day. She would be off to assassinate another high-profile target. Life as normal, or what passed for it for agents of FOX anyways.

The plane taxied to the end of the runway and took off immediately. It climbed quickly to cruising altitude, making their ears pop as the pressure decreased. When they levelled off Ophelia turned to Kain and took his paw in both of hers.

"Next time," she said, "why don't we try the Dominican Republic instead? I hear they have some nice resorts but very laid back cops there."

The end

Kain Algorath © Marcus X Light

Ophelia Cassidy Sommer © Devil Kitty

Any guesses as to the source of the title?