FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Sean came back to himself with a shriek of fear and wept at the fiery ache in his ass. He found himself crouched in the corner of a large, moving box paneled with industrial white walls. The floor was textured steel and a pair of florescent lights hummed above. On one wall was a panel of buttons and, above them, a red electronic display ticked over from six to five. Next to him was a big black bag; the one dropped by the puma before he attacked.

The entire scene was nothing more than blur that he could not untangle; pain and terror dominated by those fearful bronze eyes. He could not recall how he had escaped, much less survived, nor why he had taken the bag. The cat had brought it, which meant he had wanted it. That was enough rationale for Sean to deny it to him. His legs burned with muscular exhaustion and his feet felt as if they had been bludgeoned by sledgehammers. A streak of pain trailed down his face from brow to chin accompanying the throbbing ache of his head and torso. Touching the shaper points of pain on his face, his fingers came away tinged with dry blood. Time would mend those injuries so he pushed awareness of them back as best he could. Leaning forward, wincing at the broken glass burn in his ass but not willing to find out what kind of damage had been wrought, Sean dragged the bag over. The numerical display ticked over to three as he unzipped it and peered inside.

Money met his first look; bundles of hundred dollar bills wrapped with the casino's bands jumbled in a heap. He leaned back for a moment in confusion; had he just escaped a robber, or something else altogether? With one hand he ruffled through the bundles, feeling the slick cool smoothness of taut bundles wrapped in plastic beneath. Pushing the money aside he pulled one up far enough to look at. About the size of a large hardback novel the vacuum sealed object contained a large block of white. With a twitch of atavistic fear Sean dropped it and kicked the bag away.

Drugs!

Drugs and money. He had somehow stepped into something altogether different in taking the cat's bag. Not only had he attempted, and likely failed, to steal a prize from their stables he had compounded that insult by stealing their drugs and money. He wrapped his arms around his knees and pressed back into the corner of the elevator car, moaning softly to himself. He was well and truly fucked now. They would find out who he was and be after him like rabid dogs, now.

Or, if not him, his family. They would be after Taws, and that made his heart do a crashing flip-flop in his breast. The numerical display clicked over to P2 and dinged as the elevator came to a quiet halt. The doors waited a few moments before hissing open to reveal the open bay of a garage beyond.

Judging by the stacked boxes, shrink-wrapped pallets and stacks of mattresses in clear bags it looked to be a service garage. No one readily visible moved about in the cavernous space. Crouching forward he zipped the bag and dragged it out of the elevator in haste, fearing the doors would close on him. The thought that someone may be hunting for the bag filled his fevered mind. His back and thighs screamed in painful protest as he scuttled out and slid along one wall to hide behind a line of pallets when he spied the hulking black gleam of a car parked not far away.

Slumping against the wall he panted and rested his head back against the cool concrete trying to compose his thoughts past the many dull aches and sharp pains wracking his body. He had lost Bryant's walkie-phone during his scuffle with the cat but a quick pat of his breast pocket told him that his own remained secure, the click accompanying the pat down letting him know that he had not lost his Bluetooth ear piece either. Leaning cautiously to one side he peered out at the car. It might, at least, offer a swift route of escape if it had been left unsecure.

From kidnapper to drug courier to car thief hardly seemed such a stretch.

The car's lights were on, its drivers' side door stood open, and the trunk gaped open as well, and he could hear the subdued growl of its engine running. It was a beefy, muscular saloon car, something European and expensive. The windows were heavily tinted offering no view of the back seat. Its presence in the service garage bespoke of clandestine purpose and the running engine hinted that its owner might not be far away.

But escape, while potentially assured with a running car only fifteen paces away, would mean little if Taws was still inside. They had been on their way down to the thirteenth floor when he lost touch with the collie directing their operations, possibly trapped. Bryant's ten minute window had closed, or would if his sense of time was right. He had no idea how long it had taken him to escape the cat, or spent catatonic in the elevator. Shifting slowly along the wall behind the pallets he peered across the loading dock that the car was backed up to.

He saw no one.

He glanced at the car again, then across the dock. He could see a human shaped shadow on the wall of a corridor leading from the dock deeper into the hotel but it was not moving. Picking up the bag he eased out from his concealment and, as quickly as his bruised muscles could move, scuttled across the dock toward the car. He spied the back of a large, bald headed human a short distance down the corridor. By the way he held his head up and looked further down the corridor Sean could tell that he was agitated at something.

Without a pause Sean slipped to the edge of the loading dock and hurled the bag into the gaping trunk of the car. It bounced once and slid into the shadows against the back of the rear seats and Sean spun about, retreating once more to the cover of the pallets. Crouching there, the danger of the bag dealt with for the moment, he tried to think of what, if anything, he could do to help Taws and the other two get out alive. If Bryant's trick with the video feed had succeeded they should already be on their way out but Sean had heard no fire alarms. He was not sure if escaping via the fire escape would trigger just the door that they went through or the entire subterranean hotel so the lack of alarms told him nothing.

But, perhaps, considering that the money had casino bands, he could cause some problems between them and the police. Taking out his cell phone he watched one bar flicker in and out; he was some levels below ground. It was by luck he had any signal at all. He tapped in 911 and waited. Maybe a police raid would give his cohorts a chance to escape, or at the very least expose Sharpson's thirteenth floor slave kennel.

"Las Vegas nine-one-one, what's your emergency?" a gentle feminine tenor hissed and crackled in his ear.

"I - uh, I think I see a drug deal going down." He hissed into the phone, keeping an eye on the corridor.

"Say that again, sir? Did you say a drug deal?" The woman's voice faded into the hissing background and then back.

"Uh huh... Diamond Mine hotel, garage level. Black car, and a guy... big bald white guy... he's got a gun." He had no idea if the man waiting in the corridor was armed but any information to hasten police response would help. "He took... a black bag, in his car. Lots of money, white blocks wrapped in plastic" He slowly dictated the number he had read from the car's rear license plate, "In the trunk."

"I'm still here, sir." The woman's voice had faded into static again and he had to strain to pick out her words. A glance at his phone showed no signal bars at all. "Sir? Are you-" her voice trailed into deeper static and a few seconds later his phone blipped at the dropped call. He hoped, at least, that the little drama he had offered would elicit a response.

Silencing his phone he shoved it back into his pocket, pulling out his Bluetooth by reflex and seating it in his ear. He winced at the sharp stab of pain as he crammed it into his bruised ear and turned it on. He was about to slink back toward the cargo elevator when the bald man emerged from the corridor, his eyes on the car. In either hand he carried a large bundle; one was a sheet loaded with what looked like laundry and in the other a poorly packed suitcase. Frilly, brightly colored lace peeked from its seal as he carried it to the car and heaved them down into the trunk. Another man emerged, walking tall with an air of harried authority and stopped, hands on hips, at the edge of the loading dock to look back toward the corridor.

They were only thirty feet away and Sean froze, afraid to move other than slink a little deeper into the shadows behind the paletts. His gaze followed that of the harried man and two more people emerged. One was a tall, distinguished looking middle-aged man in a fine suit, much like the other two. The fourth was a woman, her steps uncoordinated and her body sagging against the man who led her roughly by one arm.

Ashley!

Sean's body tensed with a twitch of pain and he almost rose from his hiding place but managed to halt himself. He had no gun and he would be alone against three men -- possibly very well armed men -- in a hopeless confrontation. Gritting his teeth he tried to make himself as small as possible, and waited.

"I don't fucking care!" The imperious man snapped at the older man, "Her fucking face pops up on a missing persons report right here in Vegas, and it's pointing right at my casino! A day after her buyers are nailed in an FBI raid? You don't think that isn't coincidence?"

"And now you want to move the bitch?" The older man snapped back as he dragged Ashley, babbling merrily to herself in a drugged stupor, to the lip of the loading dock. "Just bury her in the back of the kennels and wait, another buyer will pick her ass up. Abe, this is folly and you know it." He protested as the burly bald man helped Ashley down and hustled her to the back seat of the car. "Just dump her on a street corner pimp and let them take the heat."

"Fuck that, I want that fucking twat to disappear. You dump her on a pimp and she'll get rolled in a day, then she's down at police headquarters spilling her guts, you moron! We dump her in a hole in the desert, she's nobody's problem. She never existed, you got that?" The man called Abe hissed furiously, "I'm having the dog wipe every trace of her from our systems. I can find another whore to replace her, but I don't ever want that bitch to reappear, you got me? Gone!"

Chastened, the older man nodded stiffly. While Abe spun on his heel and stomped back out of sight down the corridor the older man hopped down from the loading dock, slammed the trunk of the car, and slid into the back seat opposite Ashley. The bald man slid into the drivers' seat, closed the door, and put the car into gear. Sean watched it slowly creep up the recessed loading ramp and turn down the lane leading between the various supply caches.

Fuck! Sean leaped to his feet, staggered by a throb of pain from his thighs and a twinge from his violated ass, and ran shambling for the cargo elevator. He slapped the first garage level button and paced while the doors drew closed and the car began to rise. It only moved for a few moments before stopping with a ding.

When the doors opened on the P1 level Sean looked out to find Ashley looking directly at him through the side window of the sedan as it prowled past. The light of an overhead fixture pierced the window tint, creating a disembodied face against the black with the silhouette of the man seated next to her behind it. Ashley's eyes blinked as they focused upon his face; the first time they had laid eyes on each other since the morning of her precipitous break-up two days before Christmas.

Sean had left the house with a 'Love you' thrown over his shoulder but she had only glanced silently at him, he suddenly remembered. Her face had been blank then, her decision to leave him hidden behind her implacable mask of politesse. When their eyes locked he saw that her mask was gone, ripped brutally away by whatever tortures that she had suffered since. Her mouth opened in an astonished circle of surprise and her eyes widened. Then she was gone, the car cruising past the elevator and bearing her out of sight. Sean squeezed between the opening doors and staggered out into the garage. He could see her looking back through the rear window of the car; a fast dwindling pale face as the vehicle bore her away. The last pale halo winked out when the car moved into the blinding rectangle of light cast by the distant street level exit.

Sean broke into an ungainly run, forcing his burning thighs to respond, ignoring the broken glass twinge in his ass as he followed the car. Bisecting that white wall of light it paused with a flare of red tail lights before slowly turning right into traffic. Sean emerged seconds later and staggered to a halt, sun blinded as he tried to scan the traffic. He saw the sedan some distance ahead idling behind a delivery truck at a red light. Gasping through lungs that felt as if they were on fire, a burning, blunt pain in his side adding itself to his list of hurts, Sean staggered down the sidewalk. People glanced at his rumpled suit and breathless run as he past but never paused their own pursuits; he was just another pretty rich boy down on his luck running from the toughs looking for their pay out.

The light ahead went green and the car began moving away. There was no way to catch it, now, and Sean staggered to a stop unaware of the sound of running feet pelting up the sidewalk behind him. It was not until strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him painfully upright that he realized that he was nearly falling. He staggered and swayed, trying to shake those powerful arms loose, until their owner circled around to stand before him.

"Sean! Thank god!" Taws gasped breathlessly as she held him at arms' length for a moment before hauling him in with a crushing hug, "Bryant said you were in some kind of fight and he lost contact with you! Ashley was being relocated when we got out of the elevator, I'm sorry -"

"She -" Sean lifted an arm and waved down the street over her shoulder. The growl of a large diesel engine rumbled up to the curb nearby; Lazarus' truck. The rear door opened and Oda put a foot out onto the running board before Sean reached out and pushed against the door violently, trying to close it. "She - car - there!" he pointed down the street and shook free of Taws' embrace. Staggering to the truck he crabbed his way around the back side and, ignoring the disgruntled honking of cars, clawed his way down the beast to the rear drivers' side door. Oda pushed it open and thrust out a hand, helping him in with an easy heave.

Lazarus, likewise ignoring the lane of traffic his truck was half blocking, looked back at Sean in the rear view mirror. "Which car?!" he barked as he lurched the beast out into traffic. With the lane open due to his blockage he poured on the gas, roaring through the intersection as the light turned yellow. From the front passenger seat Taws turned to look back, reaching back with one hand to touch his face with gentle fingertips.

"Sean, you're bleeding." She muttered worriedly. He bobbed his head in absent acknowledgement.

"Black one, went -" he had to slow and close his eyes for a minute to compose himself. They were out. They had gotten in, and gotten out safely. Taws was safe, that's all that mattered. "Went through the light this way. Executive sedan, black tint." He stammered the license plate number while Lazarus listened. Reaching down under the dash he pulled something. A piece of the dash opened up to reveal a police radio and he turned it on. "Laz... they mean to kill her. A man called Abe ordered the two men to lose her, permanently."

"Abe," Oda growled softly from the seat next to Sean, "Abraham Sharpson."

"Sis, eyes front. I need you to find that car while I find a hole in traffic." Lazarus ordered levelly as he bullied smaller, slower cars to move out of their way with the sheer bulk of his truck. Sean scanned the cars ahead as well, catching a stare from the corner of his eye. He turned to find Oda looking at him. He read the realization in the wolf's gaze. He knew, Sean realized; he could smell it. The wolf's black nose twitched as he looked Sean up and down and then met his gaze. Emotions seemed to cascade behind the lupine's golden regard; concern, curiosity, terrifying rage and then empty sorrow. Raising one hand without a word said he gave Sean's shoulder a squeeze before turning his attention forward.

For several minutes they all sat in tense silence, eyes scanning the traffic ahead and each street as they passed intersections, before Taws threw up a hand and pointed. "There! Behind the trash truck, black car, black windows!"

Lazarus' ears twitched and he scanned the mirrors on his truck before bulling into the next lane. A car's horn blared but no one gave it a glance. "Tags?" Using the hulking size of his vehicle the collie drove aggressively on the tail of the car in front of them until it pulled aside.

"Can't see, car behind is too close; they're stopping for that red." So was Lazarus, caught one lane beside and two cars back. The three passengers craned forward to peer at the car ahead. To Sean it was the right car; the right shape and color and dark windows. But those heavily tinted windows meant there was no way to see who was in it. The beefy diesel engine loped eagerly as Lazarus revved the engine, waiting for the light to change. When it did the car in front of them, some tiny little compact, quickly moved to the turn lane and let them pass. "That's the tag!" Taws crowed a moment later.

"Arright, good, we got' em. Sit back, buckle those four points good. This ride could get rough." Lazarus ordered as his truck rumbled slowly along in traffic; a predator pacing its prey before pouncing. At the next intersection they came to another red light but were only a length behind. On the far side of the intersection a Las Vegas police sedan also waited.

"One four one, dispatch." A masculine voice called from the police radio near Lazarus' right knee.

"Dispatch, 141, go." Another male voice responded calmly.

"Possible BOLO contact. Black on black, November yankee sierra one one eight. Sands southbound at Eighth." Sean glanced across the intersection at the police sedan that was still waiting for the light to change. He could see two people in it but beyond that they were just vague shapes.

"Copy that, 141." The dispatcher replied with more alertness under the calm, "Advise caution, suspect reported as armed."

"141, copy, we'll shadow. Anyone else near my twenty-five?"

"Three one niner at Dice and Mark." A third voice replied, female but powerfully deep. "ETA two."

The light turned green and traffic began to move again. The police sedan rolled through the intersection, the two occupants studiously looking forward. The vehicle in front of Lazarus turned left giving them room to move forward. Sean glanced back and saw the police car slide into a turn lane from their side and loop back.

"That cop fell in behind us a few cars back." He offered, "I called 911 on that car..." he paused when he caught Lazarus looking up at him in the rear view. "I found a bag of drugs and money and threw it in the trunk before I knew they were going to take Ashley in it. Figured I'd get the cops onto something associated with the Mine."

"Well, if cops do a traffic stop it'll sure as hell make our job easier." The collie said with a nod, reaching down to unclip the mic clipped beneath the radio. "141, dispatch, 319 advise; suspect vehicle two male occupants, possibly armed. Third occupant female, hostage. Copy, over? Hostage on board."

There was a moment of silence before the voice of the dispatcher growled back, "Unknown contact, this is a police emergency channel, please identify, over."

"INS, unmarked, call yankee delta two. Copy previous, over." Lazarus growled back with the same disgruntled air.

"Copy, YD2, hostage on board. 141, report status."

"Passing Joshua on Sands, still southbound." As they crossed the intersection Sean saw another cruiser waiting to turn into their flow of traffic. "319 on scene."

"Nevada patrol and county have two units enroute, northbound, ETA three minutes."

"141, I copy. Lighting him up." The squadcar a short distance behind them turned on its flashing roof lights and began moving forward. Traffic quickly parted to let it through and within moments it fell in behind the black sedan carrying Ashley. Lazarus fell back with traffic, slowing down as the patrol car drew up behind the sedan. Sean leaned forward against the firm restraint of the four point harness, hoping fervently that they would just pull over and try to bluff their way through. Such wishes are for children and falling stars, unfortunately. Not for desperate people at the end of their ropes.

The sedan pulled to the side as the cruiser approached, Lazarus' truck rolling past both of them and swinging to the right as he sought to box the sedan in place. When the cruiser followed the black sedan to the shoulder, however, the sedan's tail end dipped and it fairly leaped forward with a pall of dust from its rear tires. It roared past Lazarus before he could fully block the shoulder. "Blasted fuck." Lazarus cuffed his steering wheel, hauling it hard to the left, and floored his own accelerator. All four tires barked as the truck lurched around, falling in behind the patrol cruiser as it sped past. "Why couldn't they just make it easy?" They slowly began closing the gap behind the cruiser as Lazarus steered with one hand, reaching up to the console of switches above the rear view mirror and flicking several of them. The wail of a siren blared from beneath the hood and a couple of those switches began blinking madly in sequence; pursuit light indicators. "Sis, reach down under your seat and switch that handle upright, please."

The black car was a fast dwindling spec ahead as they drew closer to the police cruiser. It wove in and out of slower traffic and they followed ponderously. A shrill whine that Sean had not heard before whistled from the engine compartment and, when Lazarus floored the gas all four of the huge tires barked loud squeals. Sean was pushed back and Oda let out a snarling whoop as the truck lurched forward.

"141, dispatch, he's running. On Sands, southbound, over sixty." The squadcar ahead of them reported as it wove nimbly through traffic. "Unmarked one-ton, white on blue, joining pursuit. YD2, that you?"

Lazarus handed the mic off to Taws so he could keep his hands on the wheel as they drew abreast of the police car, the roar of its engine a petulant protest against the thunderous bellow of the truck's. "Affirmative, 141." Taws replied, clutching the handhold of her door desperately. The whining of the diesel's turbine rose and fell, interspersed with brief hisses which heralded a harder press against Sean's back. The black speck of the fleeing sedan became an identifiable form as Lazarus rapidly closed the gap it had created with its swift start off the line.

"Vegas, all patrols, emergency traffic only. Seventeen thirty three." The dispatcher issued through the radio, "141, you have lead."

"Affirmative, passing Baynes, still south on Sands, eighty. Unmarked in lead." The driver of the police car falling behind them reported with an incredulous lift in his voice.

"Taws, watch for cross traffic." Oda advised as he braced back in his seat, his phone in one hand. "We're outrunning our own siren and we're unmarked; people may not see the wig-wags." Sean leaned in toward the center to look out through the windshield as they rapidly closed on their quarry.

"Gonna give the old boy a nudge." Lazarus growled as the rear of the car disappeared beneath the lip of the truck's hood. A second later the entire truck shuddered with impact a moment after Lazarus raised his foot from the gas. The sedan pulled ahead of them again, its rear end swinging from side to side as it corrected from the nudge. Tapping a small toggle beneath the fingers of his right hand clutching the steering wheel produced a muffled hiss from beneath Taws' seat. The whine of the turbine rose to a shriek and, once more, the back of the car disappeared beneath the hood followed by a shuddering thunk. The truck fell back again and the car, its rear bumper dragging the road, surged ahead with a wild swinging of its rear. "Okay, he can drive."

"How can you outrun him in this monster?" Taws gasped as she clutched desperately at armrest and door.

"Propane injector, but I don't have a lot of it." Lazarus quipped as he depressed the propane feed toggle under his fingers for another burst of acceleration. This time, however, the car saw them coming and quickly jinked into another lane, sweeping wide around the right side of a car that was trying to get out of the way. The black sedan bucked and sidled as it squeezed through the narrowing gap and Lazarus swung left to avoid the slower car that passed between them in a brief flash. "Need a highway to -"

"On the left!" Taws yelled and Lazarus' head jerked slightly to identify the threat; a slow moving car was turning left from opposing lanes and, at their speed, would never clear their side of the road. Lazarus pumped the breaks, the massive tires of his truck rattling against the pavement in a series of rapid chirps as the antilock braking system ground with a sound like so many loose tools. The squadcar, 141, swept past them with a doppler wail of pursuit sirens and Lazarus swung wide to the left, into oncoming traffic lanes, around the startled car stopped in the middle of the road. The truck rattled them all as it bounced over the median curb when Lazarus brought it back into their lanes of traffic. The turbine wailed and the propane tank hissed sending the truck rocketing forward to catch up with the pursuit. By then a second Vegas squad car had joined the first, weaving around traffic hot on the heels of the damaged black sedan.

Radio traffic was swift and confused as cars communicated with one another, passing information back and forth. The unit 141 had assumed the lead position and, as more and more cars moved into the fray, Lazarus fell into the middle of the pack. Sean looked around, surprised at the number and configurations of the vehicles joining them. Everything from the ubiquitous street cruisers to sleek pursuit interceptors to utility vehicles in police colors surrounded them, all with flashing blue lights and intensely focused drivers. Even a few unmarked cars, with no more indication of their purpose than rapidly strobing head and tail lights, swept into the formation.

"These guys will have them in no time." Lazarus observed as he laid off the propane boost and settled into the middle of the pack, by far the largest bruin among them but keeping pace easily. One of the faster pursuit interceptors assumed the lead, dogging the black car mercilessly. Now and then other cars would fall out of the pursuit for various reasons but the number never seemed to decrease with the addition of new elements.

"On the right." Taws reported as she watched the road ahead and to either side, but not the pursuit. She watched traffic as they roared up on it, keeping an eye out for possible threats coming from intersections. She had spied a squadcar rapidly closing on the pursuit from a merging road that showed no intentions on yielding to the pack when it joined. As she had feared it bulled into the pack of speeding cars a few lengths behind their quarry sending the chasers scattering.

"Fucker!" Lazarus worked the brakes and looked rapidly around for a route of escape as the cars immediately ahead of them slowed precipitously, each trying to dodge those ahead and not hit those beside them. The tires barked and rattled as they bounced against the truck's suspension.

"Left, left, left!" Taws did not bother to point, trusting her brother to see what she did. Lazarus did, avoiding an unmarked sedan breaking in a pall of white smoke, swinging the truck left and bounding across the grassy median in a tooth rattling charge that carried them across three lanes of opposing traffic. They sped through the gap created by oncoming cars slowing to avoid police vehicles performing similar maneuvers. Dust and dirt filled the air briefly and then they were past, roaring down a side street perpendicular to the direction of the pursuit. With the wail of sirens echoing from warehouses on both sides Lazarus accelerated down the road looking for someplace to turn so he could rejoin the chase. "He turned left ahead," she added as she caught a report through the angry chatter on the radio, "We're on parallel course."

"Oda, are you using that GPS of yours?" Lazarus hissed irritably as he sought a road he could use. They bounded over a set of railroad tracks with a brief moment of semi-weightlessness.

"Uh huh," came the strained grunt from the wolf who was trying to focus on the phone despite the bouncing lope of the truck. "Got a slow right split ahead, about half a mile."

"He got turned by a spike trap; he's heading back toward the city." Taws added, watching the road ahead for danger and listening to the radio chatter that was completely lost on Sean. The truck's engine roar dropped off markedly as Lazarus let off the gas.

"He'll cross us at some point, then. Oda?"

"Not many places he can go, keep to that right split. Maybe he'll come back at us." The engine picked up again, but without the earlier bellow. The turbine whined petulantly, eager to exert itself. The lane they were traveling widened as they approached the fork and they rattled over another set of railroad tracks. Lazarus kept his eyes fixed forward while Taws' head turned left and right, rapidly scanning the road to either side ahead.

"Truck, on the left." A lumbering semi was pulling out of a warehouse lot turning left into their lane. Lazarus eased off the gas and the truck began to slow with a hum of big tires. "Right, Right!" At the last possible moment Taws spied a car coming out of a blind driveway and stopping, half of its length in their lane. Lazarus swung easily into the left lane around it and closed on the semi as he brought his course back into their lane.

They met the pursuit coming the other way; the black sedan sweeping around the front of the halted semi. It sedan was not moving terribly fast as it swung the semi, but there was nowhere for it to dodge to avoid the huge blue and white truck filling the narrowed lane. Lazarus hissed a curse and hammered the brakes. "Head's down!" he bellowed when the truck started to slide, switching from brakes to gas and pounding down. The turbine wailed and the truck lurched forward, ever so briefly.

With a deafening crunch of metal on metal Sean's face was pummeled by a giant white fist into which he was bodily thrown. The world became a roar of shattering glass and rending metal as everything lurched precipitously to the right. He caught a brief glimpse of canine chins being tucked to canine chests before everything disappeared in the white impact of an airbag. He jerked against the the punishing restraint of the four point harness and then slammed back to his seat as everything came to a halt.

He shook his head as the airbag hissed, deflating against the back of Lazarus' seat from whence it had deployed. The window beside him was a gaping, smashed void and the windshield was spiderwebbed by the crumpled hood. Police sirens wailed as Sean reached down and unbuckled the center of his harness. He almost slipped over against Oda who was just beginning to regain his wits but reached up to grasp his door handle. When it popped he put a foot against the transmission hump and used that leverage to push the door open.

His body was a chorus of aches but they had become a single whole that he found he could barely register in his adrenalized rush. The door squealed as he shoved it open and leaned out. Below him was the crumpled steel of the black sedan. He saw it was the roof as he dragged himself out of the truck. He could hear heavy thumping coming from within the car beneath him and the rear door swung open. Someone was screaming; high and terrified and female.

Ashley.

Fresh fury surged through Sean's veins, banishing that all-over ache, and he pulled himself around the door of the truck. He saw the older man that Abe had been talking to back out of the car hauling Ashley with him as the front door of the car squealed open. As Ashley was hauled out into the open by the first man a bald head appeared in the gap between the car's roof and front door.

Sean kicked it as firmly as he could just as the owner of that head turned to look up at the truck. He caught a brief glimpse of startled brown eyes before his foot slammed the man's head back against the top of the door. It rebounded forward, slamming against the roof of the car and then disappeared as the bald man collapsed unconscious to the pavement.

"Get down!" a loudspeaker was bellowing somewhere, almost lost under the cacophony of police sirens. "Drop the gun and get down! Release the woman!" Sean pushed the truck door out of his way and stalked across the roof toward the rear of the car. The man had hauled Ashley a few feet away from the car, a gun in his free hand as he used her as a shield, not pointing up at the police but raised slightly at an angle as if seeking something to shoot.

"Back off!" the man was yelling into the din, "Back off or I waste the bitch!"

"Release the woman!" Sean could see an uncountable number of police, in uniform and not, crouched behind cars and around the front of the halted semi truck. "Drop the gun!" they yelled, unheard, over the wail of their own sirens. Sean jumped down to the trunk of the car and from there to the ground, only twelve feet away from Ashley and her captor. The man saw him then and spun, putting her between them.

"Back the fuck off, man!" the older man snarled in a panic, not raising the gun beyond its forty-five degree angle. Ashley's eyes were wide with panic, her face screwed into a baby's terrified wail, but she only looked at Sean with entreaty beneath her fear. Save me, she said with her eyes, her mouth hanging open in a scream lost under the wailing sirens.

"You see a fucking gun?" Sean bellowed through the chaos, holding up both arms to show that he carried nothing, all the while approaching at a hard walk. "Come on then, asshole, do something! Shoot me!" he thumped his chest; he was only eight feet away, almost face to face. He could smell antifreeze and transmission fluid and burned rubber. The man's gaze scanned the police and came back to the very immediate threat of Sean steadily approaching.

"I'll fucking cap your ass!" He jerked the gun and jabbed it against Ashley's ribs, "I'll do her, right here!"

Sean raised his eyes and glanced over the man's shoulder, focusing on nothing with a short nod, "You do and that cop right there will put an entire clip through your ass!" The man snapped his head around, looking for the threat, and Sean closed the last distance with two long strides. "Let go of my Ex, you _ fuck _!" Hopping on one foot he raised his opposite leg and kicked outward with every ounce of force he could muster.

His foot slammed full into Ashley's stomach. Her eyes sprang wide and her body folded forward as her captor, completely startled by the blow, staggered back. His arm slipped from around her and Ashley dropped to her knees, then keeled forward clutching her stomach with one hand. Sean never slowed his advance, stepping around his fallen past love. As the man brought the gun around, trying to raise it, Sean snapped a hand down, capturing his wrist, and turned his body in a downward punch against the inside of the man's elbow with all he had left.

He sensed dark forms closing in rapidly from all sides, yelling orders, but his attention was for his foe alone. His fist collapsed the man's elbow, the gun flying from his grasp, and he brought his arm up, intending to smash an elbow into the man's face, but at that moment his target was buried under the white-suited flash of a wolf pouncing upon him. The man went down with a startled cry and Sean was thrown down as well. He sprawled face first to the pavement as shadows charged in from all sides. From his unfortunate position he saw the man scrabbling for the gun a few inches beyond his fingers while furious white fists hammered his face. Lazarus landed a moment later, throwing his weight down onto the man's thrashing legs, and reached for the gun as well.

Only Sean was able to reach it, however. Extending an arm he grabbed the pistol and flung it away as the converging shadows arrived. Something sharp and painful struck him in the side and, a split second later, his body convulsed with agony as some fifty thousand volts surged through him. The last sight he had before the lights went out were those shadows, all topped by furious faces of a half dozen species, descending upon them.

"I don't fucking care what you think, he didn't break any gods be damned laws!" A voice was roaring when the world once more swam into focus. Sean found himself lying on his back staring up at the flat white of some sort of roof. To one side glass fronted cabinets held packages all showing a red cross. It took him a moment to realize that he was in an ambulance, lying on his back. When he tried to raise his hands he found them secured together by handcuffs. A pained sobbing nearby made him turn his head.

Ashley, his Ashley or what remained of her, sat on the ambulance's bench seat while a medic examined her. She was sobbing and holding her stomach. Her tear streaked face was drawn in a grimace of pain as she wept softly. Raising her eyes she caught Sean's stare.

"You - you liked that, didn't you." She croaked through a raw throat, frowning at him.

Sean grunted, then winced in fresh pain, "Uhn huh. Felt--" he took a slow breath and let it out, "Felt like Christmas." He managed to wheeze after several moments, remembering how it felt as if he had taken a mule's kick to the gut when her text came, and he found that she had blocked him.

"How about obstruction?" a voice bellowed not far away, "Interfering with an investigation, tampering with evidence, assault?" Sean raised his head and looked down past his feet to see Oda, hackles upraised under the rumpled collar of his soiled white suit. The wolf looked positively murderous as he faced off with a considerably taller human in a police uniform with sergeant's stripes on the sleeve.

"False arrest, excessive use of force, and," Oda's voice trailed off, "a pending legal shitstorm when the evidence in our possession reaches your inspector general's office." He offered in a deadly, low growl. His gaze swept down the officer and back up, "We going to see your name on that list, sergeant?"

"Not bloody fucking likely." The sergeant growled in return, spinning on his heel and storming away bellowing orders. Blue lights continued to flash, painting the white interior of the ambulance flickering blue, but at least the sirens had been silenced.

"Sean?" Ashley's quiet voice whispered, "Sean?" He turned his head to look across at her. The med tech had finished his initial examination. An intravenous stretched from one elbow to a bag hanging near her head. "Thank you." She managed a quavering smile. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry about all of it." Her eyes gleamed with tears up but she was beyond crying, slumping back against the wall of the ambulance with a tired sigh.

"I'm not." Sean croaked, swallowing to wet his parched throat. The tech glanced over at him and, rummaging around in a shelf above his head, offered him a small plastic bottle of water. He had to crane his head painfully to sip, but the tech was gentle, and patient. "Thanks." He rested his head back. "I'm not sorry about any of it." His chest rose and fell in a deep sigh as the ambulance shifted under an added weight. Oda's form loomed up through the open rear doors. "I owe you my thanks, actually," he mumbled, eyes half closed. The wolf glanced between the two humans before moving up to unlock the handcuffs binding Sean's wrists. He tossed them onto the ground behind the ambulance and, a moment later, the doors were swung shut. "Oda, how's Taws? Is she okay?"

"She's fine, pup, just fine. Got a little nosebleed from the airbags, that's about it." The wolf sank down onto the bench beside Ashley as the ambulance began moving. The tech said nothing and retired to a small chair near the cab to do paperwork. "She's sitting up front." Reaching across himself he offered a hand to Ashley. She diffidently shook it after a moment. "Agent Animikee Odayin, ma'am, Immigration and Naturalization Services."

"Sir," Ashley bobbed her head tiredly, looking back to Sean, "Who's Taws?"

"Someone you kept me from knowing for far, far too long, Ash." Sean sighed and laid back as the ambulance sped up away from the accident scene, sirens wailing to life. "And Lazy?"

Oda chuckled softly, "Back there with his precious, madder than a wet cat. He wrenched his foot in the accident and that's just making him angrier. Stupid locals are scrambling all over themselves trying to put the blame for this fiasco on his shoulders, and yours. Luckily DEA swept in and recovered the evidence before it conveniently disappeared." He leaned across and gave Sean's knee a reassuring squeeze. "You did good, pup, just fine good. I've not seen a better takedown in all my years."

Sean grunted, "I was a little mad."

"Uh huh," Oda just grinned toothily, but Sean saw something else in his eyes.

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