FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

FOX Academy:

Book I - The New Breed

Book II - The Werewolf of Odessa

Book II.5 - The Love Who Spied Me

Book III - The Curse of the Yellow Monkey

Book IV - Wait For No One

Book V - Dawn of Vengeance

Chapter 4 - Dusk is just an illusion

Undercover espionage agency headquarters are not designed to repel a heavily armed force. It is more important to prevent access to the information they contain than to protect the buildings or the personnel. The guards at the entrance to FOX Headquarters were immediately overwhelmed by the RCMP SWAT team, but three layers of increasingly thick and sturdy security doors should have held the invaders back for a while, except for the fact that the SWAT team had access cards and codes to go with them. The cards were provided by FOX for the use of the RCMP liaison officers that were allowed access during certain joint operations. The codes were provided on order of the Deputy Clerk, who was told that only a few senior officers would be going in to secure the personnel records until this mess was cleared up. The Director, Tancred Williams, was on his way back to the Academy at the moment of incursion, blissfully unaware that his agency was being occupied by a small army of canine cops.

While the operation had gone fairly smoothly Chief Inspector 'Charlie' Parker was not impressed. The SWAT team had spent far too much time getting to the operational hub of the rival agency in her opinion. Someone like her, a basset hound with legs so short she had to take three steps for every one of theirs, should not have been able to keep up with the main assault wave. After they took down the fox with the metal arm and eye patch she was actually able to pass the lead team and stride through the double doors of the Ops Centre and right up to the FOX Chief of Staff, the one they called Silver.

He was standing in the centre of the room reading from a paper someone had given him when Charlie burst in with the SWAT team close on her heels. When he saw her striding up to him in her blue and grey working uniform his eyes widened in surprise. She raised the paw that clutched the warrant from the Clerk of the Privy Council and prepared to give the official announcement, after she had closed with him.

That was a tactical error on her part, one that she would not have made if the raid was against the Italian greyhound mafia or a criminal gang of Russian wolfhounds. But she assumed that the former agent would respect the uniform she wore, the warrant from the Clerk of the Privy Council she clutched in her paw, and also that he would be unarmed while in the safety of his own Ops Centre. She was wrong on all three counts.

The commander of the SWAT team must have realized the precarious position she was in because he tried to catch up and get in front of her but he was too late. She was almost within touching distance of Silver when he made his move. The paper in his left paw never even fluttered and his head, which was only half turned to her, did not move either, only his right arm did. Before she had time to check her stride the muzzle of his Glock-17 was aimed unerringly between her red-rimmed eyes. She skidded to a halt with the cold steel of the barrel tickling the fur of her forehead while the SWAT team slapped rifles to shoulder and shouted at the fox to put his weapon down. He ignored them.

"This is a restricted area," Silver informed her, "and I don't recall you being on the access list."

If he was expecting her to pee herself or look intimidated he was disappointed. She crossed her eyes and then closed one after the other to study the gun in his paw. Satisfied that it was indeed loaded and cocked she wisely made no move, but instructed the SWAT team to stand down in a loud, commanding voice. She saw the corner of Silver's mouth twitch the slightest bit. Did he find her situation funny?

"I am Chief Inspector Parker of the RCMP and I have a warrant for you to surrender all FOX facilities and records to me." She ruffled the warrant in her paw without making any gesture that could be seen as threatening.

If the fox was surprised he did not show it. He waved the paper he had been reading and a grey fox took the warrant from her paw.

"It appears legitimate." The grey fox admitted reluctantly. "And I have seen the Chief Inspector at security conferences in the past, so I can vouch for her identity. I am afraid that you have to do as she asks, Silver."

"Thanks, Professor." Silver lowered his gun and returned it to the holster, while keeping an eye on the SWAT team. They started forward but Charlie waved them back with a frown. "So what exactly do you want?" He asked her.

Before she could answer there was a commotion at the door. Two SWAT officers were trying to restrain a large golden-toned fox, without much success. From the flashes of golden fur over sculpted muscle that she could glimpse through the crowd she recognized Tancred 'Tanner' Williams, the new Director. She ordered her troops to let him through.

"What is the meaning of this?" Tanner snarled, incensed at the intrusion. "Your Commissionaire expressly promised the Clerk that it would be a quiet, controlled, and civilized temporary transition. You're lucky you didn't get your damn fool head shot off!"

"This was the only way that we could ensure that valuable information pertinent to our investigation was not destroyed or locked away before we could get at it." She responded evenly. Technical experts were already elbowing FOX analysts and operators aside under the watchful eyes of the SWAT team. Data scrolled on screens as they accessed and downloaded case files and personnel records. "Now I suggest that we retire to the director's office so I can deal with you two." In private, she added to herself.

"You can deal with me right here." The silver one growled. Charlie remembered that he still had a gun on him. The bigger golden one stood beside him, supporting his Chief of Staff. Well, if they wanted all his dirty laundry hung out in public, so be it.

"We have reason to believe that you conducted an unauthorized execution of one of your students." She began. There was a collective gasp from the assembled FOX analysts present. "Ophelia Cassidy Sommer, who was suspected of poisoning her husband in Virginia in two thousand two, and a fellow student named Nelson Knight here in Ottawa two years ago. Rather than turn her over to us for investigation and trial you abused your authority under the legislation that covers Foreign Operations Executive conduct. You failed to have the sanction approved by the Prime Minister of the day and that makes the act nothing short of murder."

The two foxes exchanged a glance that communicated more than Charlie could read in it. Evidently some decision was made though. Silver hung his head and answered her accusation.

"I'll admit that we did not process all of the paperwork exactly as policy dictates." He said. There was a collective intake of breath around the room. He had as much as admitted that he had killed the cloud leopard. Charlie pulled a card out of her pocket and read him his rights. When she was done he acknowledged them.

"I'm not placing you under arrest at this time." She told him in a tone that said she would dearly love to. "But you are suspended pending the outcome of an official inquiry into this matter. You are to leave the premises and are not allowed to come back or communicate with anyone involved in the inquiry, investigators or potential witnesses, until further notice. I'll need your ID and your gun." She held out her paw.

The silver fox pulled his gun out from under his suit jacket under the watchful eyes of the SWAT team and handed it to her butt first. He produced his ID card and building pass and surrendered them also. The Director looked on helplessly.

"As for you." She turned to the big golden fox. "You are suspended also. A person of your ... your ... lifestyle, should never have been hired by that demented old walrus in the first place." She saw his brow furrow when she referred to his homosexuality, but she continued. "You have been covering up for your buddy Silver here for years, allowing him to recruit killers, perverts and criminals, to build his own little gun deck full of loose cannons."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Not only do you let Silver roam around killing whosoever pisses him off, you let him surround himself with his own kind." She pulled a notebook from her pocket and consulted it. "You made his lover an agent despite her being handicapped and unsuitable for further service. Then there is this American hacker, Algorath. You hired him even though he tried to break into the CIA, NSA and Pentagon computers and was involved in the death of a CIA officer. You actually manoeuvred him into working here."

"What?" Charlie looked to where the exclamation had come from. Several SWAT members were escorting a young Arctic fox, a lemur and the fox with the metal arm into the room. She ignored them, for now, and continued addressing the golden fox in a voice loud enough for everyone in the room to hear clearly.

"You hired another cripple to cover up another of your silver friend's mistakes, and you refused to fire the lemur after we reported his perversions. Frankly, you have been a pain in the commissionaire's ass for years."

"If only." Williams sneered, not intimidated in the least.

"The final straw was when the murdering little fox Marcel was exposed as the Slasher." She concluded with satisfaction. "You knew that he had tried to kill his stepfather by cutting his balls off. A sexual crime." There was another gasp from the crowded room. "You knew that he was running a pack of underage prostitutes on the streets downtown. An obvious paedophile." More shocked exclamations greeted that news. "You knew that he had slashed one of the johns who later died, just before Silver took him in. He had already established an MO." Someone wailed in anguish at the back of the room.

"Will you all just shut up?" Charlie screamed. The room went silent. She took a moment to gather her composure.

"You're wrong about Marcel." Silver said in a serious tone. Charlie looked at him with contempt. She crooked her finger at one of the larger dogs and indicated that it should take this one away. She waited silently until Silver was out of the room and then continued to address Williams.

"We found black fox hairs on two of the victims." She said matter-of-factly. "There is also a witness that reported seeing a short black fox in the vicinity of one of the crime scenes around the time of the murder. She has made a tentative identification from the 'Anthony Foxx' Publicity photos. But rest assured, when we catch him, which we will, we will not treat him like you do. He will get a proper trail and be placed in segregation in prison so that he can safely spend the rest of his long life paying for his crimes." She turned back to Williams. "Your gun and ID please."

"I'm afraid not." The golden fox sneered. "Check your warrant again. I'm sure that you will find no mention of removing me. You can't fire me or suspend me, only parliament can. That provision was put in the legislation back in the cold war to prevent a mole in the upper echelons of government from replacing the heads of the intelligence services with more moles. No offence Johnson." The last was addressed to an analyst standing behind the rest, a brown mole wearing thick glasses but still squinting to see what was going on across the room.

"None taken." The mole waved it off.

The fox turned back to her with a crooked grin on his face. "So while you may have operational control at the moment, it looks like you will have to put up with me for a little while at least, Patricia."

God, how I hate that name! She thought. Short and stocky since birth, built more like one Tolkien's dwarfs than the elves all the other girls dressed up as, she had been 'Fatty Patty' in elementary school and 'Patty Porker' through most of high school. Exercising did not slim her down, it just added muscle to her square frame, and enrolling in wrestling and shot put had done nothing to clarify her sexual identity. Everyone just assumed that she was a lesbian and not even the geeks bothered asking her out, all through high school.

Suppressed anger at the cruelty of her peers boiled up inside her. Bitterness at being lumped with the gays caused a backlash of resentment against the big queer golden fox.

"Then you can preside over the next dismissal." She motioned a technician that had come in with the three FOX employees under escort forward and spoke with him in whispers. He nodded his head and passed her a sheath of computer print outs.

"Two of your employees have been accessing the restricted files." She said. The lemur and the fox with the metal arm were brought forward. "That is grounds for firing. But perhaps they were misled into breaking the rules. You, lemur. Joel Grigori is it? Who gave you the password for the restricted files you were reading when we arrived?"

"I ... uh ... I can't ... recall right off." The little lemur stammered, his long ringed tail twitching back and forth rapidly. He was obviously uncomfortable speaking in front of his peers, especially with the Arctic fox standing right behind him. Charlie showed him one of the print outs.

"Let me refresh your memory. Is this not the email with the link to the file and the password? Who is it from?"

"Algorath." Joel answered, hanging his head as his tail dropped to the ground. "Kain Algorath."

"And you Fett." She turned slightly to address the one-armed fox. "Who sent you the information you needed to access those files?"

"....."

"Sorry," she leaned closer, "I did not hear that."

"Algorath." He mumbled a little louder.

"Algorath." She repeated, and then turned on the Arctic fox. "The hacker, who has also accumulated a number of complaints from your own Information Technology security section I see." She waved the pile of papers at him. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I didn't do it." He answered defiantly.

"Do you know of anyone else who is capable of getting into the restricted files?" She asked slyly, knowing full well that Algorath had designed the security system for those files. The Commissionaire had told her so when he instructed her specifically to fire the American hacker. "Do you know of anyone else that is capable of manipulating FOX's secure email server to fake your identification code?"

The young fox's maw opened and closed several times but no words came out. She turned back to the Director.

"I can suspend him, but if you want to stick around I suggest that you fire him. You can always hire him back again when this is over; if you are still the Director that is." She stared into his eyes unblinking, challenging him.

"You had better go." The tall fox told his white-furred employee. "We'll send you your things if we ... when they ... soon." The escort grabbed the white fox by the elbows and led him out of the building.

"Show me to your office." Charlie demanded. "I'll be working out pf it for the foreseeable future." Then she turned and regarded the two FOX employees that were still being held, and a number of others that had gathered behind the wall of SWAT members.

"I'll deal with the rest of you later."

She strode through the middle of the crowd without waiting for the fox to show her the way. She had memorized the floor plans the raiding team had used. All in all, she though, things have gone fairly well. The two that the Commissionaire wanted out of the way most are gone and it is only a matter of time until the third is arrested and locked up. As far as operations went, this one was right on track and that track was leading her to a big promotion.

So why don't I feel good about this?

* * * * * * * *

Silver did not get a chance to talk with anyone as he was escorted out of the Ops Centre, but he looked carefully around to see if any of the FOX employees were showing anything less than shock and surprise. Lack of either could indicate someone on the inside working with the RCMP. What he saw puzzled him.

The regular Ops Centre staff looked dazed. They had not known the cloud leopard Sommer but they knew that the most senior of agents was always assigned the disciplinary sanctions, so that story probably did not affect them too much. But they all knew Marcel, through his girl Geno who worked among them if not personally, and word that he was a serial sex killer and child stalker would have hit hard. The Professor, Bill Hanlan, gave Silver an encouraging look, indicating that he did not believe the accusations against his former classmate at least.

When he was passing the three being held by the SWAT team he avoided Kain Algorath's eye. Not because the young Arctic fox did not know about the sanction of his girlfriend, but because he knew too much. The execution had been faked so that she could drop out existence and take up the mantle of the assassin known as the Perfect Stalker of FOX's behalf. Kain knew that because she had come out of hiding to rescue him during the affair with the yellow monkey. Silver was afraid that others would notice if Algorath looked at him with anything less than stunned hatred.

It was the looks that Joel and Dongo Fett gave him that baffled him. Dongo looked at Silver with his jaw hanging slack and eyes full of despair, like his soul was lost. Joel glared back at Silver with open hatred, his little lemur fists clenched tight and even some teeth showing. Silver had never seen him so angry. He dearly wanted to know what had caused the laid-back fox and the happy-go-lucky lemur to change so drastically, so quickly, but he was pushed out the door and down the hall before he could so much as say 'hi'.

RCMP officers had taken over the security desks inside the restricted area and at the main entrance. They eyed him suspiciously as he was led outside. Once in the open his escort seemed unsure of what to do next. Silver made up his mind for him.

"Take me over to the day care centre." He demanded, pointing the way. "I have to pick up my son." His voice was no less authoritative than the basset hound's and the dog fell into step with him as he strode purposely toward the old brick building that housed the FOX day care service. It used to be a safe house for defectors or high-ranking prisoners back in the cold war days and it was very secure. In addition, it was run by Mrs. Brown, a retired senior agent responsible for putting so many KGB-sponsored terrorists underground that they called her the Bulldozer.

Silver did not actually have to pick his and Vikki's kit up. The day care never closed and she could get Leslie on her way home no matter how late she had to work. But he had seen her leave the Ops Centre a moment before he was shown out and head in that direction. If she had heard the instruction that he was not to talk to potential witnesses she would want to find a meeting place where she could separate him from his escort, and the daycare was the perfect place. Mrs. Brown only let parents and designated guardians inside, all others had to wait outside. If the RCMP officer cared to challenge that rule he would find out how she got her nickname.

As they entered the outer reception area Silver caught a glimpse of brilliant red tail with a pure white tip disappearing into the day care proper. So Vikki had come here, good girl. Mrs Brown was stationed behind the reception desk, calloused paws on formidable hips and an expression that could stop buses on her face. Vikki must have alerted her, Silver thought.

"Afternoon Silver." She said gruffly. "Picking your kit up early today?"

"Yes, I've decided to take some time off." He replied.

"He's in the ball room, playing war with Bill Hanlan's youngest. Go on in." Mrs Brown lifted the counter top and allowed Silver to pass. She slammed it down again when the RCMP officer tried to follow.

"I have to escort him while he is on agency property." The big dog growled at the stout sixty-something vixen.

"Let me explain the rules to ya." Silver heard her reply as he pushed through the inner doors. Oh-oh, poor Fido.

The ball room was about three meters a side and a metre deep in colourful plastic balls that were too big for the kits, cubs and pups to swallow and soft enough not to hurt if thrown. As Mrs Brown had said, the three year old Leslie was indeed engaged in a battle royal with a smaller grey vixen. Silver frowned; the vixen appeared to be winning.

Vikki was standing in one corner of the ball room. She leapt into Silver's arms when he came in.

"Silver! What is going on?" She gasped.

Silver looked up into her emerald green eyes, the slim vixen was several centimetres taller than him. "FOX is under attack." He explained.

"But who is doing it? The RCMP?"

"I don't know. It's pretty sophisticated for them. They may be just taking advantage of a situation. As it stands they have fired Kain, rather abruptly, and they are looking to arrest Marcel. Everyone else seems to be okay for the moment."

"I have some time off coming to me. We'll wait this out together." She assured him.

Silver smiled and rubbed her cheek. "I'd love that, but I need someone on the inside. Kain is out and for some reason Joel and Fett seem upset with me. Gold will be watched too closely, as will Geno in case Marcel tries to contact her. But they don't seem to think that our relationship is very serious, so maybe they won't isolate you."

Vikki had been wondering about how serious their relationship was herself, but she changed the subject. "What do you think of that basset?"

"She is courageous, if a little out of her league in this." He said, and Vikki could read the grudging respect in his tone. "Focused, dedicated, fearless, a bit righteous actually."

"Not that we know anyone like that." She replied dryly, but Silver was so focused on the problem that the sarcasm was lost on him.

"Keep your ears open." He advised her as he separated a crying Leslie from the vixen that had him pinned under a layer of plastic balls. "If they won't let you come home to us use the message board from that group we shut down last spring." He was referring to a free email account on one of the popular sites. Anyone who knew the user name and password could go in and leave a message as a draft email. Other group members could sign in and read the message and add their comments by saving an updated version or another draft. Since it was never sent it could not be intercepted. But once one member was compromised the authorities could read everything everyone posted, and they were able to shut the group of terrorists down quite suddenly one dark night in April. The account still existed because no one was left alive to shut it down.

"Right" she said. "I'll do what I can, but I'm wondering who I can trust. Is FOX compromised, do you think? "

"I can't say." His brow furrowed in thought. "Bill Hanlan seems okay, but Fett and Joel are acting strange, as I said. Try to find out what it is that got them in that state. If you need any special access contact Mademoiselle Chienne-Caniche."

Vikki frowned at the mention of the voluptuous party poodle that acted as secretary for the Director and the Chief of Staff. She was well aware of the poodle's reputation and the fact that she had had a thing for Silver. Before Vikki had come along Silver had a thing for her too, on occasion, although Silver swore that they had a completely professional relationship now. Vikki still felt uncomfortable at their close proximity. Especially since the poodle wouldn't be getting any from the Director, Tancred Williams. Silver interpreted her frown correctly.

"You can trust her. She is as loyal to FOX and the memory of Sir Wilbur as Tancred and I are."

He took Vikki's head in both of his paws and she leaned down to give him a kiss that would have shocked Mrs. Brown. Which reminded him.

"I should go check to see how my escort is holding up." He said as he picked up Leslie and turned for the door. "He's been with Brown long enough to be in several pieces by now."

In the reception area Mrs Brown had the RCMP officer down on the floor in a position that was neither sexy nor comfortable. In fact the slightest pressure in the wrong direction, that being any direction at the moment, would result in broken bones. Silver signalled her that he was done with what he came for.

"We're all set to go here." He said as he grabbed Leslie's bag from the hook with his name above it. "I think that he has to come with me as far as the traffic circle." He indicated the canine pretzel at her feet.

Mrs. Brown untangled his limbs and helped the taller dog to stand. "If you are staying here for a while I can show you those moves, and others." She told him not unkindly. "I'm in the gym from two to three thirty for anyone that wants a little instruction."

"I can see why your fellow agents call you the Bulldozer." The dog said with a little awe in his voice.

"Not them, the KGB. My fellow agents called me Brownie, like the wee fairies, 'cause I'm so cute." The dog looked dubious. So did Silver. He had never heard her called that when she was terrorizing the junior agents in the Academy boxing ring. But as soon as he was out the door he forgot Mrs. Brown and turned back to the larger problem. His situation would resolve itself when Tanner had a chance to speak with the Cabinet, but that would not happen until they had cleared Marcel's name.

Where the hell could Marcel be? He wondered.

* * * * * * * *

The dry dusty smell of small creatures long dead was Marcel's first indication that he was awake. The intense headache was the second. He recognized the symptoms of a drug used to render one compliant and open to sexual advances. It had been used on him once before, when he was still in training. The squirrel must have coated the glass she had given him with the stuff, and quite a bit of it by the state of his head.

The events of the morning were starting to come back to him, and Marcel realized that he was in big trouble. He had left a dead body behind in the apartment, one covered with his DNA, and filled with it, if he recalled correctly. He shuddered at the memory of Monique lying naked with her throat slashed. Had he done that in self defence after he was doped, he wondered? Or had she been set up by someone trying to frame him as that serial killer? He wished he knew.

He realized that he was in total darkness and wondered why. Digging through the layer of leaves and garbage that covered him he discovered that the small section of sky visible from the bottom of the shaft he had hidden in was black; night had fallen while he was unconscious.

Now that his head was above the trash he could hear traffic noises, so it was probably not late in the evening. Had the police searched the roofs in the meantime? They must have, he concluded, but maybe not as far as he had gotten before stumbling upon this shaft. Would they have left a guard on the roof? There was only one way to find out.

Marcel dug himself out and studied the walls of the shaft. They had the same raised brick pattern as the exterior of the old buildings. Scaling it would be a piece of cake, thanks to the Academy's training, reinforced by the ruthless Silver during several nocturnal mountain climbing excursions. He went up carefully and silently, stopping just below the roof line to listen for signs of a sentry. Satisfied that there was no one lurking just beyond the rim, he eased his head up enough to scan the rooftops. They appeared clear. Marcel climbed out and flattened himself against the roof.

He thanked whatever saint watched over spies for the black hoodie and dark jeans. He had even worn black skate shoes this morning. Those accessories, along with his dark fur, would make it easier to move without being spotted. He must have left his red cap and his backpack in the apartment, he supposed. A quick check revealed that the knife he always wore strapped to his forearm was also missing. Would it be found by the police, covered in squirrel blood?

He had left the house he shared with Geno on the Academy grounds without any form of ID, but the cap had been one of those from the 'Anthony Foxx' clothing line, a model not available in stores yet. That, the surveillance cameras, and several witnesses back at the skate park were probably enough to associate him with the crime. He needed to find out if the police had gotten that far yet.

Crawling to the edge of the roof he peered down into the parking lot. There was an occupied police car parked in from of the squirrel's building. There would probably be another one behind it, covering the only other entrance. Marcel scuttled over to the far edge of the building he was on and checked the street. There was a police car at the far end, parked where it could get a good view of the street, but several old tees blocked their view of the roof and the wall of the building that Marcel was on. He could scramble down the drain pipe and hide in the bushes that lined the buildings.

He waited in the space between the shrubs and the wall until a city bus came along. When it was between him and the police cruiser he stepped out and, keeping the bus between them, sauntered casually along the street to the intersection. Checking quickly for more police he crossed over and turned perpendicular to his route, away from the group of apartments. It was not the best part of town, but far from the worst. More importantly, it was familiar turf for the former street kid.

Marcel chose streets and alleys that would carry him away from the scene and also avoid places where the cops liked to park or patrol at night. He trotted down a driveway and slipped through a hole in a fence behind a row of stores. There was a used clothing drop-off in the parking lot here, and he pulled a few of the garbage bags full of cast-off clothes behind the bin to examine them. He was short enough to wear youth sizes but since joining FOX he had put on a lot of muscle and could not get a good fit without going to a specialty store. Having a cover identity with his own clothing line helped, but now he wanted to look as little like Anthony Foxx as possible. He found some fat kid clothes in one of the bags and tied them on. They were baggy, but a close enough fit for what he had in mind. He changed and stuffed what he had been wearing into the bin. He stopped by a leaky air conditioning unit to collect some of the mud from the sodden ground below it and rubbed it into his face and paws.

When he emerged he looked a lot more like the street punk that Silver had recruited three years ago. His clothes were an eclectic mismatch of styles and sizes. His new skate shoes were covered in filth and his matted fur hung down on his face and tail, helping to disguise his fox features. When he moved it was with the timid slump of a street kid, prey for many and protected by none. Five years seemed to have dropped from him in the transformation.

He needed information, so Marcel made his way toward downtown, where he knew of several spots good for eavesdropping in on conversations. The latest slashing was sure to be the talk of the streets. Within minutes of parking himself in a hedge near a popular coffee shop he overheard his cover name mentioned. A pair of male felines was reading the local journal and going on about how you couldn't trust anyone these days. As they passed his position the one with the paper tossed it towards a trash bin, missing it by at least a metre. They did not go back to pick it up. After they had rounded the corner a black paw slid out of the hedge and pulled the cast-off paper in.

It was a special evening edition of the same newspaper that Vikki had seen earlier that day. Marcel read the headlines in the dim light of the distant street lamps. According to it not only had the police identified the Slasher as Anthony Foxx, they had connected the missing skateboarder to a recent killing at a convenience store. The details included a recap of earlier reports on the secret intelligence agency, FOX, and speculated as to Anthony Foxx's connection to it. It ended by noting that the location of the formerly ultra-secret agency was still unknown, but that sources in public security had confirmed that, due to this latest development, it was under control of the RCMP at this hour.

The RCMP, Marcel reflected, are no friends of the Academy, or of mine. They had tried to nail him with a number of crimes just to embarrass FOX. He wondered if it was safe to contact the agency, or even to go home, given that he lived on-site. Better not to, he decided, they would be watching Geno for sure, in case he tried to contact her. She was not exactly their favourite creature in the world either.

What he needed, he thought, was some time to gather facts, evaluate the situation and make a plan. Fortunately, he knew a number of places in the city where he could hide out while he did that, and one of them was near a bakery where they would just be getting ready to dump the unsold pastries. If he hurried he could beat the rest of the street people there.

Marcel headed off, unaware that he had already slipped back into street survival mode, the talent that had originally attracted Silver's attention.

* * * * * * * *

Kain Algorath kept a small bachelor apartment near FOX headquarters. It was small and cheap, but convenient, especially with all the shift work and overtime he put in. He saved a lot of money by living there, money he spent on trips to exotic resorts for clandestine rendezvous with his secret lover, but he did not really need the extra funds. His family was wealthy, pioneers in the high-tech information technology field, and Kain held a few patents of his own. The disadvantage was that the place was cold and impersonal, designed for sleeping and snacking only.

Having been fired for an infraction that he did not commit Kain needed somewhere more familiar and comforting to blow off steam. He also needed someplace with an electronics lab and the bandwidth of a small African nation in order to get on the web and start figuring out who had set him up, for that was what he was sure had happened. Luckily the family mansion in nearby Kanata fit the bill in all aspects.

Kain had been born while the family was living there, affording him dual citizenship. The place had five bedrooms, a three-car garage, and a thousand square feet of lab space. It overlooked the golf course just outside the Kanata High-Tech zone. Originally isolated, over the years the area surrounding it had been built up so the local infrastructure was stressed to the point of breaking, but that would affect him. There was a secure T3 line running directly from the lab in the house to the servers in his Dad's company, just over a kilometre away.

The only problem, Kain mused as he drove down Carling Avenue, was how to get access to the FOX network from there.

When he was younger, Kain had tried to make a name for himself by hacking into the CIA, the NSA and the Pentagon simultaneously. He had partnered up with a Black Hat hacker known only as 'the Long Guy' because the older hacker's tools were so sophisticated. Unfortunately the Long Guy turned out to be working for a hostile intelligence agency, and was only using Kain's superior skills and intuition to break through the agencies' firewalls. That little enterprise had resulted in the death of a CIA White Hat hacker, a female snow leopard that Kain had a brief affair with before she was killed. He was still not over that yet, but had worked tirelessly for the authorities ever since in an attempt to atone.

Despite his best efforts, he was never able to find a trace of the Long Guy again. But, being familiar with the old hacker's methods and his tools Kain was able to build defences against them, and other threats, for the same American agencies that he had tried to violate. Once there was no more to accomplish there boredom had set in, and he was lured north to FOX on the promise of field agent training. An exploding Firebird convertible had put an end to his chances of ever becoming a senior agent like Sable and Ruby, but he was qualified to accompany them to the field as a mission specialist, and that was good enough for him for now. In between missions he improved the Canadian agencies IT security to the point where no one could break in.

Regrettably, that included him. In order to be completely secure he had put in no back doors, no short cuts, and no remote administrative bypasses. Plus, you had to be inside the headquarters on one of the intranet stations to get access, unless you were someone special. There were only ever three laptops with remote access protocols hardwired into them. Two were kept at FOX Headquarters for use by the senior agents, the Chief of Staff, and the director. The third officially did not exist. It was listed as having been destroyed when Silver spilled a cup of coffee on it. But Kain knew where it was, and who had it.

It had taken a few hours to process him out of FOX, the RCMP wanted to make sure that every circuit and wire he had ever touched was accounted for before letting the master hacker go. Then he had to stop off at his apartment to get the keys for the mansion and some clothes. So it was after dark by the time he pulled into the spacious and nearly empty garage. He hopped out of the car quickly to neutralize the alarm. He had his own personal code, and the alarm could display a log of all security events. Out of habit he scrolled through to see if there had been any activity since he was here last. As he suspected, no one had touched the alarm since his mother came to visit three months ago.

He opened unlocked the interior door and stepped inside the mud room. The place was dark, almost pitch black on this moonless night, with just the dim glow from the security lamps on the lawn coming in through the windows. Kain set his bag down on a nearby counter and wrinkled his nose at the puff of dust that rose up around it. He would have to call the cleaning service tomorrow. He turned on the light and automatically entered his code to turn off the interior alarm. Just as he hit enter his paw froze; something was not right.

It took him a minute to figure it out. There was no dust on the keypad, and there should have been at least some on the top of the protruding casing if so much had accumulated on the other horizontal surfaces of the room. Kain quickly punched in the code to enter the alarm diagnostic mode and checked the records more carefully. There it was, a gap of about five minutes occurring a little over an hour ago where someone had erased the record of their access. Just enough time for a professional burglar to get in, case the joint and get out; or for a surveillance expert from a certain national police agency to plant a few bugs. But the hairs standing up on Kain's back told him that whoever it was, they were still in the house.

He did not have a gun with him. As a part-time agent he only carried an agency weapon during a mission. But he had a few hidden about the mansion. Kain moved silently in the dark, letting his eyes adjust as he moved into the living room and slipped a paw under the cushion of the couch. The small Beretta he had hidden there was gone. Okay, he thought, that one was obvious, maybe too obvious. Next he moved to the kitchen and swung the wall clock aside on hidden hinges. The alcove behind it was conspicuously lacking a Colt Python. The next nearest hiding place was in the bedroom, and Kain had the distinct impression that he was being led there.

He slipped a carving knife from the block beside the sink and held it the way Rusty had taught them to, with blade out and tip down. He moved carefully down the hallway to the bedroom he used when he stayed here. The door was wide open, and he could not remember leaving it like that. The faint glow from the safety light in the ensuite bathroom spilled across the floor. Kain lowered himself to the floor and crawled the last metre so he could look under the bed. There were no suspicious lumps or shadows. He peered around the edges of the door to check the rest of the room. It appeared clear. The closets were open, the racks and shelves bare. There was no hiding place in there. He slid into the bathroom with the knife up in a defencive position, but there was no one inside, even the shower stall stood open and empty.

Kain went back into the bedroom, wondering if he was getting paranoid. Silver would like that. He said that paranoia was a survival trait for guys like them. Still, maybe his Mom had found the guns and taken them away. She didn't like weapons, even the Airsoft guns Kain used to keep. Kain put the knife down on the bedside table and looked at his bed. The comforter was pulled up over the pillows at the head, while another pair of pillows sat on top of it at the foot of the bed's foot. That's odd, he thought, spare pillows belong in the linen closet down the hall.

He had already begun reaching down to pull the covers off when the lump at the head of the bed that he had assumed to be pillows exploded. A figure in black with huge white paws spread and deadly claws extended rose up and pulled him down on the bed. He was roughly flipped onto his back and a pair of the longest fangs he had ever seen came down for his throat. But Kain had been practising his paw-to-paw combat skills diligently since being injured and he was far from helpless. He hooked the leg of his attacker with his own and twisted his powerful abdominal muscles while pushing up on the assailant's opposite shoulder. A split second later he was on top with the intruder's arms and legs pinned, trapped as their body heat made them sink into the form-fitting memory foam of the expensive mattress.

He had lost his glasses in the tussle, but Kain was the only one who could move an arm or a leg. So he was taken by surprise when something came zooming out of the dark to poke him in the eyes, one after the other. Instinctively he clamped his paws to his face to protect them from further injury, and he cried out. "Jesus Cass, can't you control that tail of yours?"

"Sorry, Kain. It has a mind of its own." The cloud leopard Ophelia Cassidy Sommer apologized from under him. She pressed the button on the table lamp with one bare foot and the room was filled with a soft light. Her long puffy tail continued to hover menacingly in front of her lover's face. "I hear that you were fired." She said to change the subject.

"How do you know these things?" He asked, amazed at the accuracy of her information. "And what are you doing here? I mean, when did you get in?" Since they were forbidden to contact each other on pain of death they had agreed never to compromise the other by meeting at either of their residences, including the home of Kain's family. Still, it was better than his small apartment. At least the security system here would afford them a little privacy. Speaking of which, he noticed that she had pulled the blinds and closed the curtains before hiding under his comforter.

Keeping one red eye on her wayward tail, Kain lowered his paws, to rest them on Ophelia's breasts. He caressed them gently, letting the tips of his digits trace the curves where they met her chest. Her nipples rose up to meet him, he heard a soft purr coming from her throat and felt the vibration of her contentment through the spandex and several centimetres of cushiony flesh.

"Well, since you are here you might as well stay for a while."

"Got a spot for me?" She smiled as her paws came up to rub his chest.

"I have several in mind." He murmured as he leaned down to kiss her.

It was different, kissing someone with teeth like a sabre-toothed tiger, dangerously thrilling yet delicious at the same time. They had to be careful, because like most felines she tended to bite when she got excited, and his snout often got in the way. He was constantly in danger of an impromptu nose-job. Still, the sensation when his long snaky tongue was wrapped around her shorter, rougher one was beyond compare. Eventually he had to break off to breathe.

"Really Cass," he asked again, "what are you doing here?"

She liked it when he called her Cass, he was the only left alive that still did. "I happened to be near an airport when I heard what happened to Silver." Ophelia explained. "So I thought that I should get close in case you guys needed rescuing again. Then when I heard that ridiculous story of Marcel being the stalker ..." She hugged him tightly to her. "... I had to find out how you were."

"It's dangerous for you here." He rose up on his arms to look down on her. "What if somebody from the Academy who thinks that you're dead saw you? What if Silver caught wind of you being here?" While he spoke she undid the buttons on his shirt.

"I like living dangerously." She said with a grin as she slipped her arms inside his open shirt and tickled the soft white fur along his sides.

"Oh, you do, do you?" An evil glint came to his eye. He reached back and groped for the carving knife on the night table. "How dangerously?" He asked as he tested the edge with his thumb. A dot of red appeared at the tip of his pad.

"Try me." She breathed, her eyes slightly unfocused.

Kain shifted his hips back and gripped the spandex body suit. In one smooth sweep he sliced it from crotch to neck, exposing her breasts and abdomen. Three grey hairs drifted down off the blade.

"You've been practising." She complimented. Then, faster than the eye could follow, she slapped the paw holding the knife hard enough to numb it. As it slipped from his lifeless digits she reached left and caught the blade by the dull side. She tossed it to one bare foot, caught it with her toes, tossed it to the other foot, and finally kicked it up to stick in the ceiling above them. Kain had to strain to see it, but Ophelia watched it for a moment, calculating in her head, before starting to count backwards.

"Ten ... nine ... eight ... seven, do you, six ... five, prefer, four ... three, chicken or, two ... one, DUCK!" As she screamed out the last word she threw her legs around him and rolled them both over to the right. At the same time gravity overcame the large carving knife's tenuous grip on the gypsum board ceiling and it came down, arcing over until the razor-sharp tip was pointing straight down. It sliced cleanly through comforter and pillowtop to embed itself halfway into the mattress, only a few centimetres away from their legs.

Kain looked up at her with shock. "You're crazy!"

"Crazier than you anyway." She said smugly, and twirled a lock of her light brown hair. She was sitting on his hips, her back straight and her head back. The spandex outfit he had shredded hung down from her shoulders and she shrugged it off. One tug and the remnants were out from under her and she was naked. She tossed the rags to the floor.

She pulled the knife from the mattress and slid it under his belt, dangerously close to a bulge that had recently formed there. The keen steel bit through the soft leather easily. Ophelia casually tossed the knife over her shoulder and it stuck in the hard wood of the dresser with a solid 'thunk'.

She ignored the button holding the waistband of his trousers closed and felt under the flap of Kain's fly for the handle of the zipper. She lowered it, slowly, pressing down on the protrusion that threatened to pop out of the growing opening. When it was down as far as it would go she gripped each side of the oval aperture and pulled hard in opposite directions. The brass button with the company logo flew past her head and the groin of his pants ripped almost as far as the tailhole. Rising up on lovely, bent legs she jerked the pants down from around his hips, taking his underwear along with them.

With his pants around his thighs and his arms tangled in his shirt Kain should have been helpless, and would have been a few years ago. But he really had been working hard in the gym to rebuild the muscle lost in that fateful explosion. He flexed his chest and shoulders and the shirt ripped down the centre like it belonged to the Incredible Hulk. At the same time he doubled his legs under him and pulled his torso off the bed by the strength of his abs alone. His damaged jeans ended up in two pieces, one on each leg, and he ended up kneeling in the middle of the bed with Ophelia facing him in a crouch. He wrapped arms like steel bands around her and pulled her into his chest. She melted into him, reaching under his arms and up to hang from his shoulders while she wrapped her legs around the top of his hips. Her tail came up and tickled one of his ears.

Kain was ready, his cock was high and hard and already leaking tiny drops of pre-cum. Its tip was just brushing the soft fuzz that grew around her mound, making it all the more eager. But he knew her. Despite the desire brought by being apart for so long she would not be ready yet.

Kain swung around to face the head of the bed and laid her down on her back. Her arms and legs reluctantly released their grip as he streamed kisses down her throat, between her breasts, and along her abdomen. His paws roamed up and down and across her, seeking each sensitive spot. Teasing here, tickling there, tracing long sensuous trails through her short coat. Her nipples stood out tall and hard and he paused to suck on them gently while the tips of his claws traced the undersides of her breasts.

His kisses drifted south again, down the line of raised fur on the mid-line of her belly. His tongue explored her naval for a moment, then wandered off to trace the line of her hip where it met the thigh. Her muscles twitched as he reached the tender moist folds in the centre, but he changed direction and trailed kisses along the inside of her thigh to the knee. Reaching up to massage her foot he pressed his chest against the back of her leg. Looking down he saw his rigid member resting against the folds of her mons. Her sex was opening as it pressed against her, glossy pink wings spreading like a flower greeting the sun.

He could easily have slipped it in then. Pressed down on the tip until it pierced those rosy petals and slid down to find the nectar. But anyone who has watched a butterfly knows that the best nectar is found with the tongue.

Taking her other leg behind the knee Kain raised it while he slid backwards in slow. snake-like sweeps. He closed his eyes, kissing and nibbling the insides of her legs, testing the tenderness with the tip of his tongue as he went. The soft fur grew shorter, and then disappeared altogether. His tongue touched wet flesh, and he tasted the steely sweetness he sought. He explored the layers of soft skin, nuzzling them apart until the delicate, damp insides were exposed. Then he sank his tongue in as far as he could reach and flicked the tip up and down.

Ophelia had begun to purr again and her paws were crushing his ears, but it did not hurt. Her knees were up and apart, opening herself to him. Kain reached around her thighs and placed a digit on each side of her vulva, spreading her even more. His tongue slid up until he felt the hard knob of flesh at the apex of the fold, and he circled it with the tip before diving down again.

He rotated between clit and slit, tickling her twat and buffing her button in turn. She became warmer and wetter as he continued. Her paws were pressing him down hard on her. Kain released one side of her vagina and brought his paw under her with one digit extended. It slid inside her like it belonged there, and soon he was rubbing the spongy pad inside her in time to his tongue's lapping.

Ophelia was squirming and cursing now. Calling him names that his worst enemies would not have dared. Kain briefly debated adding a little anal probing to the mix but her claws digging into the flesh at the base of his ears convinced him that she had enough foreplay for now. With a final lick and rub he pulled out his digit, pulled back his snout and crawled up between her legs until he was face-to-face with her. The backs of her ankles were resting on his shoulders and her arms were flat and out to the sides on the bed to steady her. Her icy purple eyes, her most distinctive feature, glowed in the light of the bedside lamp.

His eyes locked on hers, Kain eased in until the tip of his cock was touching her welcoming vagina. A wiggle of the hips and a slight dip and the tip was in the channel. They both signed as he pressed forward, burying his length inside her.

Kain was up on his toes with his legs together and straight. He was far forward so that his cock was going almost straight down into her. That made her clit ride over the thick veins on the bumpy topside of his cock before being crushed between their pelvic bones. He arched his hips to withdraw, and then let gravity bring him down. She rolled her hips up to meet him and relaxed as he pulled back.

Up and down in and out they went. Juices flowing, tender pink flesh sliding over his swollen red member. Her hyperactive tail wrapped itself around his brushy white one, pulling him down more forcefully as her breathing quickened. He complied eagerly, slamming his cock into her with a twist to grind her clit between them before pulling back. He could feel her tensing the muscles inside, making her vagina suck on his prick greedily. He had to clamp down on his own pelvic muscles to keep from releasing too soon.

Ophelia hissed between clenched teeth. She was getting close. Kain brought his feet in close to her butt one at a time without losing the rhythm of his stroke and lowered his torso until his head was nestled beside hers. Chest to breast, he kissed, sucked and nibbled on her neck and shoulder as his hips went into high gear. His cock was pistoning in and out so fast that he could smell the cunt juice being vaporised by the friction, but she had plenty more. She brought a paw to her mouth and bit down on one of her knuckles, to keep from biting Kain and lacerating his shoulder with her fangs.

Kain paused at the top of his stoke, the tip of his prick trembling against her hot clitoris. Her hips twisted and bucked as she strived to swallow him again, but he kept it just outside, letting her spasms do the work of massaging her clit against the head of his cock. When the rasping made her gasp he plunged, once twice, three times. By the third stroke he was awash in her cum, and he could finally relax and come himself. He did so while fully seated inside her, while she ground her clit against him.

They stayed locked together like that for a long moment, savouring the warmth inside and the tingling that the orgasm brought to their furthest extremities. But aching muscles soon demanded release, and rolled over on to their sides, where Ophelia was able to disengage her legs and stretch luxuriously. Kain's penis was still inside her, still swollen if not exactly hard as oak anymore. It was still sensitive too, as was she, and the act of pulling it out made them both shudder with fresh ecstasy.

They lay side by side, lazily caressing each other as their bodies cooled in the air-conditioned room. Kain's partially engorged penis lay on his thigh, and Ophelia reached down to take it in her paw. From the way it twitched they both knew that round two would not be long delayed. Ophelia leaned down until her slightly parted mouth was only a centimetre away from the throbbing meat stick. Her breath was hot upon it.

"So," she purred, planting a tiny wet kiss on its tip, "do I get to stay?"

"That depends. You wouldn't happen to have brought your laptop, would you?"

.