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Alright, next chapter's up. Almost wishing I had made Manny the main character after writing a few of these scenes. Rate, comment, and enjoy.

Chapter 4: The Jack

Kris

"Man, we could've had 'em. How awesome would that have been? We were so close..."

"Holy shit, Kris, are you still on that? In case you haven't noticed, we just landed in Vancouver. Travis is one of the best damn drivers in the world probably. Give it up already," Blake said from the row behind me, the noise of the jet airliner muffling our voices just enough to prevent us from being overheard. "Yeah, at least you beat Alex. That's something," my essentially best friend and teammate Manny said from the seat next to me. I turned my head toward him and asked why that was such an accomplishment, and the blunt cheetah replied, "You caused Alexei Pavlov to finish last in something. I think we can at least get a moral victory out of that."

I looked in the other direction, across the aisle at our squad leader, who was zoned out looking through the window of our first class cabin (why HURT thought setting us all up in the same first-class flight was a good idea is beyond me. Kinda jeopardized our aliases, didn't it?) with his conservatively dressed (a once in a lifetime event) dingo "girlfriend", and I guess "mate" for that week at least, sleeping with her head on his shoulder. It was a sight that made me a little sad inside. I guess you could say I'm the crazy one of the group. "But why," you ask, "You sound completely normal compared to these headcases." Well, first off, all of us are a little legitimately insane. It's part of the job (yeah, who would've thought being responsible for the deaths of possibly hundreds of furs would be grating on the mind?). But me, I'm crazy because I'm the only member on this team who's mated.

It's... hard. And it's been that way ever since I got to HURT. It sucks being the guy who, while all the other guys on your team are getting wasted and laid out on an assignment or on a break period back home, gets to wait outside and be the designated driver. And then, you have to deal with knowing that if you get wasted, for real, with bullets, not alcohol, you're the one leaving someone behind. Not just your family, who you've probably grown distant to already, not some girl that doesn't really know you but you claim to be dating anyway, and not some Serbian prostitute who you had a fling with after knocking out a terrorist cell, but someone you vowed to spend the rest of your life with. And then there's the whole thing about my mate not knowing what I do. Alex might tell his girlfriend (The real one. The vixen, not Elise) every little secret about HURT, but I keep my mate out of it. When I left the Canadian Forces, I told her I was done with fighting, and that thanks to my combat experience, I was offered an advisory position at a defense contracting firm in DC. I feel bad about lying, but I'd feel worse knowing the stress I'd put her through if I told her the truth. At least I have something tangible to fight for.

So yeah, just give me a minute here... I know I'm supposed to be a soldier and a badass and whatnot, but I guess you never think about these things when you sign on for a job like this. Sometimes I really struggle to keep my emotions in check, but I always stay focused. I guess that's why my salary has so many zeroes in it. And I stayed focused when we landed in Vancouver, not dwelling on my jealousy of Alex for being able to have someone he loves be with him on missions (yeah, I know I already said I don't consider her to be his girlfriend. But that has nothing to do with his feelings for her. Though I still can't understand what exactly he sees in her. But that's beside the point.) for more than a second or two.

I turned back to Manny and responded, "Heh, yeah I guess so. Let's hope we can come up with something a little more impressive than a moral victory against Lebowski, though." We arrived at our gate and rolled our eyes at the other furs in our cabin that made comments about finally getting out of the uncomfortable plane. For us guys that were still used to "government-sponsored" transportation, however, we got up out of our seats with energy to spare, having rested up during the flight so we could be ready to operate that night. The one complaint I had was the suit. That was something I wasn't used to, and don't even get me started on how much I hate ties. So while I did have energy, it still took me a couple of seconds to get some of the stiffness out.

Once the doors of the commercial airliner opened, Travis and Pavel (or should I say, Paul and Mischa) got up out of their front row bulkhead seats and exited the aircraft. I laughed inwardly as I clearly saw one of the female flight attendants check out Pavel as he walked off, and Manny must've caught it too, as he mentioned in a low voice, "Shit, man, is nerdy the new sexy? I think I gotta get into a different line of work." "Nah, I'm sure all the females love a male in our erm... business," I muttered back. "What do you know? You're married." "To a damn fine lady." "I'll concede that." I patiently waited for the "newlywed" couple across from us to step out into the aisle, the blonde dingo "bride" still a bit groggy from recently waking up (which meant that I for one would be keeping my distance from her). The flight attendant who had showed an interest in Pavel looked at Alex and gave a disappointed expression as he walked by with the five-foot-something tan Australian tumor growing out of his right arm. Finally, we got the chance to disembark, and I walked off the plane nonchalantly. Manny, however, had caught the same damn horny employee eyeing the three of us, and shook her paw before leaving. I found out later that he had slipped the tigress his number (ah, the benefits of being a bachelor. Slick bastard).

So we marched through the terminal, briefcases in one paw, compact rolling luggage in the other, toward the exit of the airport, following close, but a safe distance, behind the other two pairs ahead of us (we were to receive a full wardrobe along with the rest of our crap at the hotel, but we carried some baggage to make it look less suspicious). We got to the front of the airport and found a male black and tan hound in a suit with neatly combed brown hair holding a sign that read "Columbia Community Bank - Malone Party". Alright, apparently I was the leader of our particular detachment. Lovely. "Hello, gents, wonderful day to land in Vancouver, eh? Your boss called me up and arranged for a ride," the hound said as we approached. "Indeed. The Pacific coast is remarkable. Do you have suitable transportation for us?" I asked. "Only the best. Our company would never want any clients to get hurt," the hound responded, clearing our predetermined security dialogue.

We followed the hound to a black stretch limo, and a driver came around, opened the door for us, and closed it once all four of us were inside. Shortly afterwards, we saw the airport landscape begin to move away through the limo's tinted windows, and the hound introduced himself, "Helluva situation, this, isn't it? Jean-Luc Gautier, your chief CSIS liaison in Vancouver."-we paused for pawshakes-"Just so you're aware, I have subordinates giving the same briefing you are about to receive in different vehicles containing Operatives Langley and Svrbada, as well as Operatives Pavlov and McAlester. I've read up on your files. Carlisle, I understand this is your first time in Canada. Welcome. I wish your first visit was under better circumstances. Zimmerman, welcome home." I chuckled, "Vancouver's not my home, Gautier. I never liked big cities." "And yet you live in Washington?" "It pays well. And for the record, I live in Fairfax, anyway. Let's get down to business, shall we?"

"If you insist," Gautier said with a smile, "So. You're out to get Pierre Lebowski, huh? Well I've got bad news, worse news, and shit news. Bad news is he's up to something, we know that. And he's done nothing illegal. So currently we can't legally touch him or investigate him. That's a major reason why you're here, and why us and the RCMP can't handle him by ourselves. Worse news is he's got a couple compounds set up in BC. Some sort of private security force. Probably a bunch of goons, but our intel is kinda shady right now. Shit news is that he's got a confirmed partnership with your guy Igor Kossenko. We've even traced one of his lieutenants in particular in frequent dealings with Lebowski himself at the Ernest-Wilkes headquarters building in downtown Vancouver." Gautier pulled out a tablet and pulled up a picture of a slim black wolf with flowing, medium length dirty blonde hair. "This is Marek Zlin, one of Kossenko's top guys. Specialist with cyber-terrorism and economic shiftiness. Originally a software company employee in Prague named Miroslav Janosik, he embezzled a shit ton of money from his employer and escaped the country, fleeing to Belarus right as Czech authorities caught onto him. From then on, he's been attached to Kossenko. We don't really have much more than that.

"What we do have, however, is a deep cover operative on the inside. Downside is, she can only send us limited reports, and we don't risk sending people in for direct contact lest we compromise her cover. We can give you a name, though. Marissa Deveaux. She's somewhere in Vancouver right now, but honestly we don't have an exact location." "That's fine," Blake interjected, "That's why we have Pavel." "Do you have any idea what Lebowski and Kossenko might be planning?" Manny asked Gautier. "Given the amount of stuff he's been putting together in Canada and Russia, something big, that's all we know. We think maybe some sort of attack on Canada. Anyway, whatever it is, Ottawa's freaking out about it. We'd greatly appreciate it if you took this guy out. And with that said, you guys will be mostly on your own, though we have a couple of JTF-2 teams on standby if you need the extra help. But if you guys are as good as Obama and Harper think you are, you probably shouldn't need them.

"Anyway, this is your hotel," Gautier informed us, "our personnel have already moved your equipment into your rooms. Good luck, guys." We stepped out of the limo and into the hotel lobby. "Well the CSIS was a big frickin' help," Blake commented. "Trust me," I said, "It's probably for the best that they stay out of our way." We approached the hotel's check-in desk and waited for an opening. Pavel was doing the talking for him and Travis, and Travis was contributing by winking and raising his eyebrows at the reddish-orange blonde vixen behind the counter. The girl winced, and Pavel looked to his side, saw the brown fox doing his thing, and promptly hit the back of his head and told him to stop it before quietly saying something to the attendant. The vixen smiled and looked at the counter before continuing to process their reservation, conversing with Pavel as she went. When she was through she slid the papers over the counter, lingering around Pavel's paw, and uttered something to him, the white of her muzzle tinged a similar color to the rest of her fur. When the wolf and fox walked away from the counter toward the nearest elevator, I overheard a flabbergasted Travis ask, "How the hell do you do that?" "Magic," Pavel replied nonchalantly.

We stepped up to the desk, the female still blushing and staring off in the general direction of Pavel. "Hi there, ah... Krista," I said, looking at the nametag on her uniform before trying to get her attention. "Oh, um, uh, hi, uh, sir, do you have a reservation here?" the vixen stumbled, her voice a bit too squeaky for my taste. I handed a few papers that had been given to me by Bourne before we left to her and she absent-mindedly processed them, "So you're Mr. Malone then? And the cheetah is Mr. Pollard, and the raccoon is Mr. Radkovic?" she questioned. "Yes, all of that's true," I confirmed, "Just regular business people, you know. No charming young European wolves here, I'm afraid." The vixen blushed immensely and quickly handed us our room keys, "I, uh, suite, fourteenth floor, as previously requested. Enjoy your stay." I thanked her with a raised eyebrow and led Manny and Blake to the elevator. We stepped inside, and Manny pressed the button labeled "14". We were silent for a while, until Manny spoke up, "I'm tellin' you, man, nerdy is the new sexy." "In this particular instance, I'd have to agree," Blake concurred, "'Krista' seemed to be about ready to make an impromptu trip to the break room after essentially just seeing Pavel."

"That may be a part of it," I postulated, "But it's not the whole story. Pavel's a smooth talker, and don't get the wrong idea, but he's not unattractive. If there's anyone on this team that could charm his way into a female's pants, it's him." We mulled this over as we walked down the hallway and entered our room, and it was decided that Manny and I would take the beds in one half of the suite, and Blake would take the sleeper sofa in the other. When the raccoon walked into his side, we heard a choice exclamation, "HOLY JESUS OF FUCK." Manny and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes before going in to see what was up, and that's when we found several boxes and bags lying on the floor, and upon opening them up, found that they were filled with weapons and other equipment. I found a C7A2 assault rifle already equipped with an underbarrel H&K AG-C/EGLM grenade launcher and holographic sights, picked it up, and declared, "Merry Christmas, fellas."

Elise

Call me high-maintenance, but I knew the first thing I had to do when Alex and I got to our room was get out of those stuffy clothes we had to wear as our cover. I told Alex of my plan, and immediately went to the suitcase full of clothes that had been left for us and pulled out a pink sleeveless top and a pair of denim shorts, and threw a t-shirt and pair of gym shorts at my husky, telling him to change as well. I quickly threw off my dress, leaving me only in my underwear, but before I could grab my new clothes, I felt two furry arms slide across my waist from behind me. I looked over my shoulder and found Alex there, in a similar state of dress as I. He kissed my cheek and said I looked off, and asked what was wrong. I pulled his arms off of me and bitterly said, "Everything."

That... was probably not the best thing to say at the time. Especially since I knew any drama on this trip would probably be coming from me. But I felt that if I was going to spend a week with Alex, I needed to get all this stuff off my chest then. "I hate this job," I said bluntly, "Being a secretary sucks. It pays well, I guess, but it's not exactly mentally stimulating. Running comms is nice, but it's still not being out in the field, where I want to be. And beyond all that, there's the worst part: you. One of the only things at HURT that's ever made me truly happy is you, and I have to live with you going out there in danger, maybe dying, while I sit in some air conditioned room twiddling my thumbs. And if the worst did happen, and you did die out there, I would have to face the fact that you didn't die for me. While I do my job every day for you, you do yours for her. What happened to what you told me after that concert, Alex? That you were gonna be there for me all the time? Sure you've improved, but I'm still just getting her sloppy seconds. I don't know if you love me because you've never told me. You shut me down every time I want to move things along physically. My friends don't think you even exist."

I paused in my rant to turn around and look behind me. I found Alex sitting on the edge of our bed, his head in his paws. "Elise," he said softly, "You did save my life. Twice. If you hadn't taken over communications on the Kossenko op in December, I wouldn't have made it out of there." "Oh? And what was the other time?" I asked, trying to retain my anger so I could really get my point across. "After my first mission with HURT," Alex told me, looking up straight into my eyes, "Do you remember what happened?" I nodded, and he continued, "It was too much. I hadn't failed at anything before, I always got the job done. And with that mission's outcome, and Sam, God, I couldn't handle it. I was gonna quit HURT. I was gonna stop fighting. I was gonna leave my team, and my life behind. And then you came in. And despite the fact that we had had a falling out, you stayed with me and held me and told me it would be okay. And I survived that ordeal. And that's when I fell in love with you, and I still love you. But you're still right, I've done a terrible job of showing it, and I don't deserve you."

Alex began pulling off the faux wedding band on his finger, but I made my way over to the bed and grabbed his paw before he could get anywhere. "No," I told him, tightly gripping both of his paws and sitting next to him on the bed, "You're not getting what I'm saying. I don't want a new male. I want you. I just want both of us to be happy. Can you make me happy, Alex?" "Whenever the next time you get together with your friends is, I want to be there. I'll prove to them that I exist. And as for being more physical, I thought you didn't want that," he uttered. "I just didn't want everything to revolve around sex. I'm not opposed to getting closer to you though, and I want to be able to give you everything she can and more, because one day... and I know this is a long way off, and maybe improbable, but maybe one day, I want these rings to be real," I said, pouring out my soul right in front of him. He looked at our paws in surprise, then in a mix of solemnity and guilt, and spoke, "There's a part of me that wants that, too."

I didn't say anything more. I didn't need to. MY husky loved me, and that's all I needed to know. I'd figure out how to get rid of the fucking fox-bitch later. Though I did already have some creative ideas. Anyway, I snuggled up to Alex, resting my head on his shoulder and stroking the white fur of his bare chest. We sat there for a few minutes until my love finally spoke up, "So... We've still got a little bit of time before we actually have to go do something. Do you wanna, I dunno, get st-" "Yes," I cut him off, grinning and stroking his chest fur more seductively, "Hey Alex," I said. "Yeah?" he asked with a smile. "I love you," I whispered in his ear before straddling his legs and pushing him down on the bed, falling on top of him. "Hey Elise," he somehow got out between frantic kisses. "Yes, love?" I asked sweetly. He put his arms around me and rotated blindingly quickly, leaving him on top of me, "I love you too." I pulled him in and embraced him, unwilling to let him go.

Time passed in a blur. I remember only faint bits and pieces of our time that evening. Our lips connecting, breaking apart, and reassembling in a feverish blitz of passion. His muzzle pressing against my neck and chest. His paw sliding under my bra. My thumbs hooking around the waistband of his boxers and trying to slide them off his hips. And that's when the phone rang. I never thought I'd hate a song so much as I did when Alex's "Lonely Boy" ringtone went off on the nightstand. He sighed and reluctantly crawled off of me, and announced it was Pavel calling. While he was on the phone, I rested my head on his back and zoned out on his adorable sickle tail shifting back and forth.

"Hey Elise," Alex called out, hanging up the phone and looking back at me, "It seems that when we thought we had some time, we horrendously underestimated our hacker extraordinaire. He's already found our missing CSIS link, and we're arranging a bit of a rendezvous. We need to go to Kris, Manny, and Blake's room so we can plan." "If you insist," I said, managing a smile before getting off the bed and going to where I set my clothes. It didn't take more than a few seconds to get dressed, and I went over and threw my arms around Alex's neck. "Sorry if we didn't get as far as you wanted," Alex apologized sheepishly. "Don't worry about it, it's not like it was your fault," I told him before kissing him on the cheek, then grinning I let him know, "Besides, you aren't getting any sleep tonight, anyway, stud," before playfully smacking his ass. I giggled as I observed him start to blush, and we walked out into the hallway, paw-in-paw, and our tails brushing up against each other as they wagged.

Deep down, I knew that Alex was about to go risk his life again, and I was terrified. I just wanted to hold him all night, and talk and laugh and maybe fool around, like a normal couple. But that wasn't reality, no matter how hard I tried to imagine it was. Alex might've lost his life on this trip, but he also might've saved the world. Because saving the world IS our job. For a brief second, though, I forgot about all of this, because I was in my own happy world.

My husky loved me, and that was all I cared about.

Manny

We heard a knock on the door. Pavel went and opened it up and led the happy couple back into Blake's room. And by happy, I mean fuckin' happy. Like our friendly... yeah, right I couldn't keep a straight face there. Sorry, like our irritable, in a constant state of PMS dingo had just taken a ride on the Pavlov express. Which, she probably did. I swear to God, who decided it was a good idea to put those two in a room unattended? On second thought, if they were in the same room anyway, I wouldn't want to see what went down between them. Which is probably more literal of a statement than I intended. Anyway, good call Mansfield. You saved us guys some eyeball scarring. Now go get yourself a female, man! You're like, forty fucking years old! And don't fire me for that, either. It's sound motherfucking relationship advice.

Now, we were all assembled in our sort of makeshift briefing room, which happened to be Blake's room for two reasons: Numero uno: It was where all our shit was. Easier to lock and load from the ammo dump, y'know? And numero... two, fuck I don't know Spanish: It pissed Blake the hell off. Pavel was sitting at the room's desk on his laptop, doing hacker-stuff. Or somethin. That really ain't my thing. He was also probably arranging some way to be covered in bitches while we were gone, because that's something that kid could pull of somehow. Lucky son of a bitch. Kris and I sat on an empty equipment box, discussing whether we should play pin the tail on the raccoon that night, Blake sat in the recliner, looking grumpy and disgusted with the rest of us, as usual, Travis was sprawled out on the floor, tossing a closed switchblade up into the air, and Alex and Elise got all... cuddly on the couch. Fuckin weirdos. "'Alex, I love you!' 'I like you almost as much as my real, smoking hot girlfriend, who isn't a total bitch!' 'I'm still okay with you seeing two girls! I swear! I'll prove it to you, take off your pants! Mate!' 'Just kidding, I fucking love you!'" Or at least, that's my impression of them.

Thing is, like, Alex is super-cool whenever Elise is not around. But, shit, I don't wanna go down that tangent. So, Pavel, the male with the intelligence, in multiple ways, called our meeting to order and kicked it off. "Alright guys, so here's the setup: You all know that the CSIS has been about as useful to us as a set of SCUBA gear in the middle of the desert. However, they did give us one lead: an undercover agent by the name of Marissa Deveaux. By tracking her movements since her last known location- Yes, Travis?" "Uh, yeah, stupid question," the fox said, sitting up on the floor, "if you can track this Deveaux chick's whereabouts so easily, why couldn't the CSIS, the ones who are like, controlling her, you know, do the same damn thing?" "Lots of technical stuff that I've been working on with Bourne. That the Canadians don't have. Or the Americans for that matter. Do I need to explain it more?" "Nope. I'm good. Fuckin' terrified, but good." "As I was saying, I've tracked Marissa down, though maybe I should refer to her as her alias, June Lynch." I'm sorry, but I really hated this mission. Everybody and their fucking brother had to have like, seven different names. Pavel continued, "And she just happens to be free tonight. She'll be at the new casino in town. Anybody want to guess who owns it?"

Blake spoke up first, "I'm gonna have to go with The Big Lebowski." We stared at him. Didn't say nothin'. Just stared. "Oh, come on, somebody had to say it," Tannehill protested. "Yeah, that's not true," Kris corrected him, "So Pavel, go on. Is it Lebowski's property?" "Why yes, yes it is. Which is why we should be on the lookout to maybe make some trouble while we're there." "Whoa whoa whoa, hold up," I stopped him, "I thought our whole purpose here was to not draw attention to ourselves." "Just because we mess with him doesn't mean he has to know it was us," Pavlov explained, "If this guy's a paranoid type, anything that doesn't go according to plan will mess with his mind. And if we're not around when it happens, even better." "And when you get a nutjob like this all ruffled up, he might start makin' mistakes. Which is good for us," Travis joined in. Figures all the non-military guys had this figured out in two seconds. Diversity is good, I guess. Though I do kind of miss the old "don't think, just shoot" jobs that I was put into HURT for in the first place. "So how are we actually gonna get information out of her?" Pavlov asked logically. "Well, she doesn't know who we are, so I think a safe plan is for one of us to go into that casino and um, lure her to someplace private so we can tell her who we are and she can give us her info."

"So, to paraphrase," Travis said, "Somebody's sleepin' with a squirrel tonight." "Basically," Pavel confirmed, "Any volunteers?" After a few seconds of absolute silence, Blake brought up the fact that every female on this trip had been mesmerized by Pavel, and maybe he should do it, but the wolf explained that he couldn't because he had to stay in the hotel with Elise to oversee the op. "I'm not doing it," Kris declared flatly, "there is no way in hell that I'm cheating on my mate." This was as true of a statement as any I've heard. For as long as I'd known Kris, he'd never taken of his wedding ring. Ever. His wife, probably one of the kindest females I'd ever met, was the whole reason why he fought. "Yeah, Kris is out. Period," I backed up my friend, "Which leaves myself, Travis, Alex, and Blake." "I can't do it," Blake spat out quickly. Alex asked why not, and the raccoon exploded, "BECAUSE I'M GAY, DAMMIT! We've been on the same team for half a year and you haven't figured this out?" Okay. So that was new. "Whoa, pal, calm down," Travis attempted to ease him, "I guess we never thought about it. You could've just said something." "Yeah, sorry," Alex added, "at least we got this figured out now before we threw you in to seduce a female."

Blake looked around the room and asked, "Really? None of you are judging me for that?" "No," Pavel responded, "Why would we?" More silence. Then I tried again, "... Okay, so scratch that. We're at me, Travis and Alex." "Alex is out," Elise squeaked out from the couch. A whole fuckin chorus of responses came back, but they essentially all boiled down to the word "why". The flustered dingo tried to defend her claim, "So Kris is off the hook because he doesn't want to cheat, but not Alex? How is that fair?" "Because Alex isn't FUCKING MATED," I threw back at her, possibly more forcefully than was necessary. She sat there speechless, but in my mind right then and there I felt she deserved it. She had no right to be comparing her messed up romance with Kris' home situation. But I didn't need to snap like that. I tried to redeem myself a little, threw out maybe we should draw straws for it. The others seemed to like this, and Alex stroked one of Elise's paws, trying to console her with the knowledge that it still probably wouldn't be him who received the task. Travis got up off the floor and grabbed three coffee stirrers that had been lying around on a table, cut one in half with his switchblade, and held them out with his eyes closed. I shrugged my shoulders, and Alex raised his eyebrows, and we both took a straw from Travis' paw. We opened our paws up, and I sighed a big ol' sigh of relief when I saw mine was full length.

When I looked up and saw Elise's face, though, that told me all I needed to know. The temperamental dingo who had appeared on cloud 9 walking into the room was dead and gone, apparently, and she was replaced by a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any moment. I looked slightly to the side of her and saw Alex holding the short stick, and I briefly considered volunteering in his place, but then thought better of it. Elise would get over it. Alex tried to grab her paw again, but she moved it away from him, and he whispered something in her ear. Whatever he said must've worked up some sort of Svrbada magic, because she took his paw after that, albeit resentfully. Poor fool. I really started feelin' bad for him. Not cus he had to cheat on Elise, nah none of that. But because he LIKED Elise in the first place. Bitch musta been a pain in the ass to take care of. Now I realize I probably won't ever land a girl like Katie Zimmerman, but thank God I wasn't stuck with Elise. Fuckin' psycho.

With our general plan decided, we worked together to flesh our strategy out more before heading out on the op.

*****

A couple hours later, I slipped into a dark alleyway across from the bright flashing neons of the casino with Blake. Given the fact that Blake just came out of the closet, that sounds a lot worse than it was. We were in dark hooded sweatshirts and sweatpants, and we carried rather large duffel bags slung over our backs. We pulled out a new kind of grappling gun that Bourne's lab had developed, which had a button by the trigger that deployed and retracted the spikes, spokes, whatever they're called that latch on to wherever your tryin to get to, and allowed for easy recovery and hiding. Nifty. So using these gadgets, me and Stripes climbed to the top of this building across from Lebowski's casino, which just happened to have a flat roof. Sometimes I wonder if we're really lucky, or the megalomaniacs of this world are just retarded. I clambered on to the roof and was about to make my way to the front when Blake slipped off his rope. If I hadn't been looking down at him in that second, we would've had to continue the mission with four guys and one splattered raccoon. Luckily, I was able to grab his paw and pull him up. "Sly Cooper you ain't," I told him once I made sure he was okay.

We made our way to the front of the building and opened up our duffel bags, revealing Blake's Mk 12 SPR, his beautiful sniper rifle that he semi-jokingly referred to as "Precious", my M4A1 SOPMOD modified assault rifle, and my thermal imaging system, then we laid at the front edge of the roof and looked over the operational area. "This is overwatch team, base do you read?" I said, to an outside observer to the open air, but in reality through the communication device hooked up to my right ear, which also included a micro-camera so Pavel and Elise could see what we saw. "I've got you loud and clear, Overwatch," a feminine, Australian-accented voice came through, "Cameras are also on and live. Pavel's on top of the hotel launching his UAV, he'll be back soon." "Wonderful," the procyonid sniper next to me commented, "What's the status of 'Snake Charmer'?" Holy shit did our team love innuendo, especially when it messed with Elise. "Snake Charmer is on route, ETA five minutes," the dingo answered very, very dryly.

"Looks like we got time, brah," I said to Blake.

"Yep."

"So you play for the other team, huh?"

"Yep."

"Where you from again, cuz?"

"Vegas"

"VEGAS?! You shittin' me, man?"

"Um... No?"

"Dude, you are from the city with the most exposed titties in the USA! How'd you turn out likin' males?"

"Do you want me to go into detail on the Las Vegas gay scene?"

"Uh... Nah, I'm good."

"Really though, there's this great story when me and my friend-"

"Yo. Dude. For real."

"I can totally get under your fur now, this is great."

"Look man, I may have let Kris borrow my shock pen for this op, but don't think I won't go down there and get it back. Don't make me do it, boy!"

"Is that a boy with a 'y' or an 'i'?"

"Da fuck? What's 'boy with an i' mean?"

Blake winked at me, and I crinkled my snout, "Aw hell, man, I don't wanna know..."

Elise started cracking up over the headset, like she had any room to laugh at anything, "I'm sorry, I can't stop myself, this is too funny." "Oh yeah," I growled, admittedly getting a little flustered, "What's your boy's name right now again?" "Snake charmer," Elise sighed. "And how does that make you feel?" "Not so bad, really, considering that I know that after tonight, I'm gonna be 'charming' my hot husky's 'snake' all week long," the dingo came back (effectively), drawing out the last three words so that you could almost physically feel the horniness in her voice. Out of nowhere another familiar voice came over the comms, this time decidedly Eastern European, not Australian, "What the fuck was that?" "Something that got way too real, way too fast," Blake relayed to Pavel. "I don't really want to know any more about Elise and Alex's sex life, or whatever you guys were talking about, so if we could please just focus and remember this is a mission, not a porno."

Shortly after Pavel came on, Studly McHusky came crackled on the comm too, "Hello, base and Overwatch, this is Snake Charmer, do you read?" "We read you, love," replied... shit, I don't even need to tell you. You already know. "Cover 1, Cover 2, do you read as well?" she followed up. Kris and Travis affirmed, in respective order to their codenames. Elise continued, "Good. What's your situation?" "We're about there," the noticeable New York accent of Travis came through. Me and Blake confirmed that we saw the limo approaching the casino. Travis was driving the thing, and Alex and Kris were in the passenger section. The limo pulled up to the entrance, and then everything started getting interesting.

Alexei

Okay first off, before someone freaks out, I know what I said earlier. But I do love Elise, and... shut up it's complicated! God! Eeagh...

Ok... SO. I was sitting across from Kris in the ah, "rented" limo we had been provided with by the Canadian government when we pulled up to the casino. Kris, Travis, and I were all dressed up in tuxes, which made us look rather spiffy, as Elise had let me know before I left the hotel in some ahem... different terms. Some of which were not approved for general audiences. But, though we looked like real ladykillers, we also really hoped we didn't have to fight anyone. Or run anywhere for that matter. I felt a little stiff from the combination of the snazzy clothes and the plane ride earlier, and I'm sure the other's did too. Just in case we did need to fight, however, we were armed, and we could do this because we had padded jackets which hid the bulge from our pawguns. And also made it harder to move. I remember thinking that if I did have to sleep with that chick, that the worst part was going to be getting dressed again afterwards. I had my signature twin Glocks in holsters under my jacket as well as Bourne's laser (and his condom, because you know what? You never know), Travis had his switchblade as well as an FN Five-seveN 5.7mm pistol, both weapons that were far beyond in practicality anything that we thought Travis, who preferred machine guns and explosives, was capable of, and Kris had Manny's shock pen, a Walther PPK, because he wanted to feel like James Bond, and his keychain-dart-thingy, which was loaded with special ammo that night.

Bourne had cooked up some concentrated form of the naturally occurring toxin tetrodotoxin, commonly referred to as TTX and appearing in various animals such as the Blue-Ringed Octopus and the pufferfish, which if Bourne wasn't mistaken, could kill a grown male in half an hour if injected. We didn't know what this could be useful for, but we took it anyway. And as luck would have it, a use stopped by that night. But more on that later.

Once we were stopped in front of the entrance to the casino, Travis got out from the driver's seat and opened the rear door for us. Before stepping out of the car, I instinctively touched the area around my bowtie, searching for a piece of familiar jewelry, and almost panicked when I didn't feel it, then I remembered I didn't get it in the first place that time. It had been the first time since December that Elise hadn't given me her heart pendant for good luck, and her refusal to give it to me was for obvious reasons. Of course, don't tell Elise this, but I never touched it right before a mission start to like, connect with Elise or touch something both literally and figuratively close to my heart. I did it to make sure it was still there and I hadn't lost it. Cus that wouldn't go over well, you know?

Kris and I got out and walked through the entrance of the place while Travis went and parked the limo in the casino's private underground garage, and Pavel radioed to remind me to stay in character. This character, of course, being a male who was looking for a good time. "Relax. That really shouldn't be a problem," I mumbled as to not look like I was talking to myself, while eyeing an attractive white vixen that passed by. That also got a reaction from the spectators. "Alex, love," my lover said through gritted teeth with just a tiny bit of irritation, "I'd like to remind you that I can see whatever you see. And I'd better not be seeing other girls' ARSES the entire time you're in there." "You should calm down, too, Elise. Your arse is still the best arse," I mumbled again, playfully poking fun at her Australian dialect.

While Elise was sitting in speechless frustration in the hotel, me and Kris took seats at a bar and assessed the situation. The casino itself was pretty great. Fancy looking, expensive looking, and bustling with lots and lots of furs, many of which were good looking. There was also a fair amount of security roaming around, tough looking. Not really that tough for us, but it would still be nice if we could avoid conflict with them, especially considering they were probably Lebowski's personal goons. I was about to complain about not knowing where the CSIS agent was right when I first detected her. She was a somewhat petite brown squirrel, with slightly darker brown hair that dropped down to a little past her shoulders, and wore a blue dress that showed quite a bit of chest, cut a considerable way down her back, and stopped just above her knees. She wasn't unattractive, and she had a look about her that made her seem like she wasn't opposed to a little excitement. This was gonna be fun.

I moved to get up from the bar when Kris grabbed my wrist and told me to wait, then nodded at a black wolf approaching Deveaux. He looked familiar, and then suddenly it hit me as I whispered, "Is that... Marek Zlin?" "Yes it is," confirmed Pavel, "Looks like you may have a little competition, Pavlov." We waited to see what the sketchy wolf would do, and he tapped the squirrel on the shoulder. Deveaux turned around smiling, but the expression faded once she saw Zlin, who was still smiling. My first thoughts went something like this: Oh shit, her cover's blown, we've got to get out of here, ohfuckohfuckohfuckohfuck.

But I kept my cool and watched the interaction play out, and it turned out to be... eh, not so bad. Basically, it looked like Pavel's joke was essentially true, and our buddy Marek did have a crush on the undercover agent, though his feelings were massively unrequited. You know the stereotypical high school scenario when the archetypal nerd asks out the cheerleading captain, and the girl smiles and is like, "Sorry, I don't think you're my type."? Yeah, it was basically like that. I kinda almost felt bad for him. Then I remembered he was an international criminal, and he totally deserved it. She went and sat down at a card table, and Zlin followed her, sitting next to her despite her rebuffs. It was a small table, only five players and a dealer, and there was only one seat left, directly across the table from Deveaux. I had to go get it. I got up and walked towards it only to have my arm be grabbed again. A brown paw extended in front of me and I heard Travis' voice say, "I figured you would almost do somthin' stupid like this. Forget ya needed these?" He dumped a pawful of chips into my paw and I sheepishly thanked him, knowing that I had indeed forgotten that I needed money with which to gamble.

I sat down at the table, also realizing at that point that I didn't know how to play many card games. I was hoping, praying that it was one I knew, and I was happy to find out that our contact wasn't that sophisticated. The game was Go-Fish. Just kidding, it was Texas hold 'em. But still. Not a problem, even for me. I showed her a bit of a smirk, and she curiously tilted her head, brutally ignoring the wolf trying to talk to her. The game progressed, with Pavel doing most of the betting decisions for me while I concentrated on intriguing my target, almost entirely through body language. Eventually, it got to a certain point where I raised my eyebrow and nodded toward the bar. She smiled mischievously at me, slid all her chips over to Zlin, grabbed her small silver handbag and got up from the table. I gathered my money, bid farewell to the table and followed her to the bar.

"So, pretty eyes, what brings you to this casino?" Deveaux asked me. "My name's Leo. I'm in Vancouver for my brother's wedding, thought I'd have some fun in this place," I said, checking my paw to make sure the fake wedding band wasn't still on it. Good call leaving that at the hotel. "A dog named Leo? That's funny. So, you wanted to 'have some fun' with me I guess?" "Well, jeez, you make it sound so terrible." "It's not terrible at all. In fact, cutie, you can start by buying me a drink." I called over the bartender and ordered her... something. I can't remember exactly what. It was definitely something with alcohol, if that narrows it down, and Elise remarked that she couldn't believe I didn't get carded. Pavel also came through with a choice, "Hey Pavlov, Zlin's sitting alone at the bar now. We could axe this guy right now if you want. Tap the counter once for no, twice for yes." I tapped the counter once almost instantaneously, and asked Deveaux to tell me about herself to distract her while I covered my mouth with my paw and explained myself to Pavel.

"Okay, Zlin might have information. If we kill him now, all that's gone. Get him with the TTX, hustle him to the limo, and inject him with the emergency shutdown. Sedate him, tie him up, we interrogate him, profit. Then we let the Canadian government do whatever they want with him." Another explanation: Since Bourne and his dudes sort of engineered the new and improved form of TTX, they put a sort of biological kill switch in there that's triggered by another solution that's inserted through another syringe. If the "antidote" is applied within 20 minutes of poisoning, the victim should be completely okay.

I finished talking to Pavel and Deveaux ended her cover story at the same time, and I pointed out that I still hadn't gotten her name. "Oh pardon my manners," she said, "my name's June. June Lynch." "Really? You looked more like a Marissa to me," I replied, possibly dropping a hint. "You are such an idiot," Elise told me. Deveaux looked at me funny, then gave a simple, "That's odd." Knowing that Travis and Kris were about to make their move on Zlin, I decided to try and speed things up a bit, "You know, drinking and talking about ourselves is nice, but maybe we should go somewhere else where we can really get to know each other." "Oh, I see what you mean," she said smiling and looking me over before rubbing her paw along my thigh (which itself granted a couple of choice words from Elise), "I'll tell you what, husky boy, my apartment's right down the street. How bout we go there? I bet we'll know each other inside and out by the end of the night. I'm not usually this open, so if you want to have some fun you'd better jump on this opportunity." "Oh, I don't think I'll have a problem with that. Shall we?"

We exited the casino, Deveaux latched onto my arm, and with me trying to figure out some sort of moral excuse for all this.

Travis

This whole mission was a microcosm of how our team works. Yeah yeah I know, Travis used a big word. I bet you're shocked. But yeah. Alex gets the attention and the girl, me and Kris do the dirty work, Pavel does all the smart things, Manny and Blake kinda watch, and Elise gets slighted and pissed off. It's not really all that simple, but it seems that way sometimes.

While Alex was off getting into our contact's pants, Kris and I carried out his plan for dealing with Marek Zlin. I took Kris' dart gadget and went to go work my "nice guy" magic on the bad guy. "Hey buddy, you alright man? I saw what that squirrel chick did to you. Harsh man, that was harsh," I opened up, feigning sympathy. "I don't know why she can't see me for the guy I really am," Zlin sobbed, fiddling with his glass. Really, Zlin? What kind a guy were you, exactly? Criminal? Psycho? Sure not a sweet, misunderstood little dude, that's for sure. "Ah, forget her, there're plenty of fish in the sea," I mock-consoled him, extending my arm around his neck, then sliding the keychain out of my sleeve, "Hey, I think you've got a bug on your neck." I shot him in the neck with the poison dart, and quickly pulled the dart out, "Agh, sorry man, didn't get to it fast enough," I said as Zlin yelped in pain. "Anyway, as I was saying, you've got to take girls from a different approach," I started, giving him some shifty dating advice while the toxin set in.

After about ten minutes, he started to complain about feeling nauseous and twitching, and I told him they might be symptoms of the "bug bite" and told him to come with me to our limo where I would have proper medical supplies. The stuff must've put him in a bit of a stupor, too, as he acquiesced without a fight. Yeah, I know, I'm on fire with the big words today. Kris came over for support, and this was a lucky event because right when the Doberman showed up Zlin asked for one of the casino security guards to accompany us. "I'm right here, sir," Zimmerman told him, "I've seen just about everything so far, I'll keep you safe."

We carried Zlin through the backways of the casino, the way I had come in, and we reached the garage without much trouble. We made our way to the limo and I opened the door to the passenger compartment. Once we were all inside, I told the gullible wolf that he needed to be sedated for the antidote to work. At first he said he didn't trust me, but then out of nowhere Kris pulled his PPK out from his jacket and held it against my head, "Believe me, Mr. Zlin, if this guy does anything fishy, I'll blow his brains out." I was pretty sure he was faking. Kinda. He was more than adequately convincing though, which is what really got me worried. Although, generally having the wrong side of a gun pressed to your temple is a worrying situation in and of itself. I struggled to keep my heart rate down as I grabbed a box from a hidden compartment under one of the seats and from it removed one of Kris' normal sleep darts and stuck the tip into Zlin's neck. The loser fell unconscious in no time at all, and once he was out I felt the muzzle of the gun slip off my fur and I breathed a tremendous sigh of relief, "Holy fuckin' Jesus, Kris, you almost had me shittin' my pants."

The Doberman laughed at me, apparently thinking the whole thing was a real riot, "Calm down, the safety was on the whole time. Now stick him with the antidote while I get something to make sure he doesn't move if we have to leave for some reason." I pulled the antidote injector, which was pretty terrifying itself, a big ol' white syringe gun thing. Honestly speaking, if I had to get stuck with that thing, I'd want to be sedated too. I jammed the needle into Zlin's arm and pulled the trigger, unleashing the serum into his bloodstream. As I put the equipment away, Kris came over with zip-ties, a blindfold, and a gag, and these were quickly applied to our unknowing captive. "I don't wanna know who planned ahead to throw these in with our gear for the trip," Kris told me once we were finished. "Gear," I asked, raising an eyebrow, "who said these were with our gear? I got these out of Elise's suitcase." There was a pause of silence in the limo and over the radio traffic, then a terse "Shut up unless you want your machine gun shoved up your ass" was heard. I'll give you one try to guess who that was from. It's a tough one, I know.

"Well. That escalated quickly," Blake commented, and Pavel said nervously, "Hey Travis, I'd like to remind you that I'm the only one in the room with Elise right now. Would you kindly refrain from pissing her off? I kind of want to see Toni again before I die." Before I could say anything regarding Pavel's misguided relationship, Manny interrupted, "Hey, hate to break up the love fest here, but we got two guys tailin' Snake Charmer." "Well fuck, looks like we're on the move again," I said as Kris and I got out of the car and set off in the same direction as Alex and our contact.

Several uneventful minutes of following passed, and we eventually arrived on the floor of Deveaux's apartment. Before the goons did. Lesson learned here, kiddos: take the stairs. It's good for you. We sat in chairs situated next to the elevator of the pricy-looking apartment building (which was probably also owned by Lebowski) and waited for the guys to get off (Alex and Deveaux had gotten to her place shortly before we showed up). The two members of Lebowski's security force stepped out, a lion and a wolf, both appearing fairly stout and wearing suits. They walked past us and we got up and followed them. Kris put a black glove on his left paw and withdrew Manny's shock pen, and I drew my handgun. Simultaneously, Kris put his gloved paw over the lion's muzzle and jammed the pen set to maximum strength onto his neck and triggered it, and I bashed the back of the wolf's head in with the grip of my pistol. We sat the incapacitated henchmen up in the chairs, and we sat down on the floor against a wall. "Well. It looks like we've got nothin' to do until Alex is finished giving it to that squirrel," I observed. "Yup." "So... Seen any good movies lately?"

Alexei

While Kris and Travis were out in the hallway feeling uncomfortable because they were sitting with two unconscious bodies essentially waiting for me to finish having sex, Manny was feeling uncomfortable because Blake was being extremely open about his homosexuality, Blake was still feeling a little uncomfortable because he had just come out of the closet, and Pavel and Elise were feeling uncomfortable because there was going to be an impromptu POV live sex show on their computers, I was getting very comfortable with Marissa Deveaux.

It didn't start out so comfortable, however. In fact, I'd say it started a little tense when we got to her apartment. I don't know what really set off that vibe, but it may have been when we had guns pointed at each other. Word on the street is that that can be a traumatizing experience. We had just entered the place, and she went to a desk under a window on the far side. I could guess something "interesting" might happen so I took off my jacket and pulled my Glocks out of their holsters. "I told you I'm not that easy," Deveaux reminded me, still with her back to me, then spun around so she was pointing a pistol in the general direction of my face, "So who are you working for?" I nonchalantly walked towards her and tossed my guns on a table with my jacket, then recounted my story, "I'm with an organization that you've never heard of, and will most likely never hear from again. I know your real name is Marissa Deveaux, and that you are undercover in Lebowski's operation, but you are actually linked to the CSIS. My team and I have been sent here to get rid of him, and we were hoping you would have some information that could help us."

Deveaux shakily retained her aim on me, asking, "What organization?" "The High-Priority Urgent-Response Task Force, HURT for short." "I have heard of you guys, though I always thought you were a myth," she spoke before turning and facing the window again, "I still don't know if it's a good idea to tell you what I know, though. If I'm discovered, there would be dire consequences..." I walked up to her and placed my paws on her shoulders, "Don't worry, HURT will keep you safe. Though if it helps, I'm sure there are a few ways I can relax you a bit." "Mmm, continue..." I massaged her shoulders, then slipped the straps of her dress off them and slid my arms around her waist and started kissing her neck. If I remember correctly, this is where Elise announced that she couldn't take it anymore and walked away from her computer, and Pavel shut off my radio transmissions to spare everyone's ears.

I moved one paw back and started unzipping her dress, and Marissa asked, "Do they not teach business before pleasure at HURT?" "I never was one for following the rules," I whispered as her dress fell to the floor, then she leaned her head back and we started to kiss.

*****

About half an hour or so later, we lied catching our breath in Marissa's bed, and the squirrel rolled over so she was half on top of me and kissed my nose, "I don't suppose you could be assigned here on permanent duty?" "Sorry, that's not how it works." "Oh well then. At least you're here now. So what's your real name, 'Leo'?" "That's a bit above your pay grade." I tapped my earpiece to let Pavel know to start recording again, and Marissa continued, "Oh come on, you know mine. I get the best sex I've had in years and I don't even get to know the male that gave it to me?" Okay, so maybe I gave the signal to start recording again a bit too early. "Not today," I replied, now getting a little impatient. I wasn't all too inclined to have a(nother) clingy girl after me, and to be quite frank I wanted to get back to Elise.

Marissa pouted and asked, "Maybe there's some way I can change your mind?", then began kissing my chest and working her way south. "'Fraid not," I answered bluntly, pulling her head away from my fur, "We've had our fun. Now let's concentrate on taking down Lebowski." "Hm. I liked you better when you were in your fun-loving persona. But if you insist. Lebowski's got three major centers of operation. The first is obvious, his Ernest-Wilkes corporate headquarters here in Vancouver, the second is his personal mansion to the north on the Pacific coast, and the third, a sort of pseudo-military complex for his private security force somewhere between the first two. I don't know exactly where it is. What I do know is that you can find a lot of incriminating specs on his computer network at Ernest-Wilkes, and that the higher-ups in the cooperative effort between him and Kossenko have a ton of information."

I pondered this information, "Would one of these higher-ups be Marek Zlin?" "That dirtbag? Yeah, he's up there," Deveaux confirmed, "Good luck cornering him though, he's almost perpetually surrounded by Lebowski's security." I smirked and snickered at that thought, "Yeah, that's not a problem. We've already got him captured." "What? Are you saying the job will be easy or...?" "No, we've literally already got him captured. He's tied up in our vehicle right now." "How... How is that even... Canadian forces have been trying for months to get him, how have you managed that in one day?" "Well, you helped."

Deveaux was stunned, and I was getting what one might call a bad feeling about the whole situation. She was stunned in all the wrong ways. As if she was stunned that she made a mistake or something. Which was bad, and meant that I probably needed to get out of there, pronto. I already had our next move planned in my head anyway. "It appears that I'm receiving an important transmission," I declared, getting out of the squirrel's bed, "and I have to depart. It's been a magical night, really." I got dressed in an absolute flash, and as I was walking out, she asked me if we'd ever meet again. "No, not like this," I said before promptly exiting the apartment.

Upon reaching the hallway, I immediately saw Kris and Travis, and told them we needed to move. Move wasn't even the best word. We needed to haul ass back to the casino garage. As we hustled down the stairs, Kris asked me what was up. Everyone had heard the last part of mine and Deveaux's interactions, but they were still confused as to what exactly sent me into action mode. "Deveaux's a double agent," I told everyone, "She's probably messaging Lebowski's goons as we speak. Not that we should have any problem with them, but still. They know we're here." "Whoa whoa, time out," Manny called for a pause, "How exactly did this happen? You'd think the CSIS would run like, a background check or something." "It's nothing so complicated," I explained, "You all know what Stockholm Syndrome is, right?" "Yeah, it's when victims of a kidnapping learn to love their kidnappers or something," Elise responded, now having rejoined the conversation, "what does that have to do with anything, love?"

Travis spoke up as we briskly walked down the street, about as fast as we wanted to go in our formal attire, "I think I get it. Deveaux gets hired by CSIS, gets sent to spy on Lebowski deep undercover. Unfortunately for the Canadian government, she's TOO deep undercover, and starts digging the bad guys more. Eventually, she tells them what's up, and they offer her a better deal, and she takes it. Presto, instant double-cross." "That would explain why she was providing such infrequent and vague reports to the CSIS," Pavel contributed. "That would also explain how she rose to prominence so quickly. Someone still thought of as basically a neophyte wouldn't have the credentials necessary to even meet someone like Marek Zlin in person, let alone be noteworthy enough for him to have a crush on her," Elise also put in. That's my girl. Always thinking, even when she misses it the first time. Just like Natalya. Goddamn, another stab wound, right in the conscience. Anyway, I said that they were all exactly right, and they got what was going on.

We reached the casino and started going into the underground garage when Blake asked why I didn't just kill her when I had the chance. I sighed and responded, "It wouldn't have done anything. If I had killed her, they would have known we were here anyway. As it stands, we probably won't be seeing much of her anyway. Also it's hard killing someone you just slept with in cold blood. Come on, man, cut me some slack." We got into the main part of the parking garage, and we immediately saw a group of about fifteen guys walking around in a pack, checking cars. "Well isn't that just dandy," Kris said cynically, "What's the plan, chief?" "Um, how about a distraction? Travis, make your way over to our limo. These guys are corporate bitches, they won't shoot on sight for fear of a lawsuit. Once they start trying to apprehend you, me and Kris will tear them up from the side."

Travis did as I told and walked calmly towards our vehicle, and as planned, one of the guards asked him where he was going. Me and Kris surreptitiously slinked around them , flanking them and drawing our weapons. One of the hired guns recognized Travis, pulled out a handgun and told him to get on the ground. I whispered into my comm for Manny and Blake to make their way to the street so we could pick them up on our way out as Travis got down on his knees and put his paws behind his head. Without any warning, Kris and I opened fire on the group, downing seven of them in the first salvo as Travis rolled away and took cover behind a parked car. I fired my twin Glocks, one in each paw, with deadly precision, dropping another two dipshits before they wised up and took cover themselves.

"Hey, ah, Pavel," Travis asked nervously into the radio, "Where'd they go?" "I've got six heat signatures remaining, two behind the white stretch limo at your two o'clock, three behind the pink Hummer, and one trying to be witty and approaching you from behind." "Fan-fucking-tastic," Langley muttered, and after a couple of seconds we heard him shout, "SURPRISE!", and then there was the sickening crack of gun handle meeting skull, and then the bang of the lead coup de grace. "'Didn't have to blast him, but I did anyway. Punk had to pay. So I just killed a man'," Travis recited. I realized the others would be moving in on Travis, so I told Kris to move around the back of the white limo while I approached the Hummer from the opposite side. In a short time, I heard two more shots ring out, and Kris say, "Two more down. This whole situation's a pity really."

I definitely agreed with him. I understand that they're the enemy, but it takes a special kind of sick bastard to kill a bunch of furs without considering the families and friends they're leaving behind. Luckily, if we weren't sick bastards, we wouldn't be in our current occupation. I crept around the back of the flashy Hummer, crouching rather uncomfortably in my tux. When I reached the far side of the vehicle, one of the goons saw me, but before he could even produce any noise, I blew him away with simultaneous shots to the forehead and chest. The other two dashed back around to avenge their fallen comrade, but I dropped them instantaneously as well. "Welp, that was easy," I declared, "Let's hope it stays this way."

We regrouped at our limo, and Travis hopped in the driver's seat while Kris and I went in the passenger area with Zlin's still unconscious body. Travis floored it out of the garage, and we picked up Blake and Manny in a flash. "All righty then," Blake started once we were on our way back to the hotel, "Let's recap a few things. The CSIS is useless, their mole is a traitor, we have not-that-much intelligence still, but we do have Marek Zlin in custody. What in the hell do we do now?" "We still can't do anything drastic, but what we can do is interrogate Zlin and do a little further investigation at Ernest-Wilkes' headquarters. The first place we have to hit with force is his security complex, and we'll be able to pull that off once we have intel. That's the general plan, we'll work out the bugs tomorrow. In the meantime, everyone get some rest. You all deserve it." "Wait, one more thing," Pavel jumped in, "what are you gonna do with Zlin for the night?" "Eh, the car has alarms. We'll just give him another heavy dose of sedative to keep him unconscious in the limo until morning, then well get to work."

Elise

I guess some furs might get into it, but I really feel like watching your lover fuck someone else is quite possibly the worst feeling in the world. Pavel had to watch it, at least off and on, so he could know when it was over and if something had gone wrong. Me, on the other paw, I couldn't do it. I walked away. Just the thought of that dirty, double-crossing bitch touching my property before I did made me sick. It wasn't really Alex's fault, though, I mean, he didn't want to do it. So I forgave him.

I waited for him to return in our hotel room, wearing only the hotel's complimentary white robe over my pink lingerie. I felt bad about not letting him get the rest he ordered the rest of the team to get, but I wanted his welcome back to be... special. I was sitting on the edge of our bed when I heard the door open. Alex looked exhausted, and I got up to meet him, asking if he was okay. He nodded weakly, then threw his arms around me and buried his muzzle in my neck, squeezing me tightly and whispering that he loved me. It was like a dream come true. Now all he had to do was procure a flying white horse (feral, of course) and whisk me away to Bermuda where we could escape everything and focus on each other, and my whole fantasy would be complete.

I pushed his head up with my paws and kissed him squarely on the lips, confirming once again that I felt the same way. He told me that he'd never do anything like that to me again because I meant too much to him. Deep down, I knew this was partly a lie because he'd still sleep with the Fox-Bitch, but it was at this point when I really started believing that I was still his chosen one, that I'd be the one with him till the end, even when all the others, the Fox-Bitch included, had been cast aside. It was so magical, standing there, holding him. Everything else seemed to melt away. Much to my disappointment, he said he wanted to take a shower because as much as he wanted me, he still felt gross and wanted to wash away the grime of killing hired guns in a parking garage and fucking a treasonous squirrel, or something to that effect. I frowned and I pouted, but I whispered in his ear that I'd be waiting for him when he came back and kissed him again.

The minutes passed slowly as I lied on the bed, patiently awaiting my lover's return. I felt butterflies fill my stomach when I thought about spending the night with him. I anticipated, I dreamed, I fantasized until my whole body felt warm from nothing but his imaginary touch. And then he appeared. He wore nothing but a pair of black boxers as he slowly glided toward our bed, and then proceeded to collapse face down upon it. I guess I never realized just how exhausted that day had been for him. I stroked his prone body and kissed his back and neck, and told him to get some sleep. Of course I didn't necessarily want this, but I had to draw the line somewhere. I wasn't going to like, rape him. There would be plenty of other times that week for action to start up, so I started pulling up the sheets and rolling over to fall asleep next to him, but suddenly, I felt a paw grab my tail. I looked back and saw Alex looking back at me with a determined gaze.

I looked away and told him to go to sleep again, but he shook his head slowly and deliberately, and argued, "Don't you want it?" I couldn't really lie in this case, "I... yes, but your health is more important." And then my husky, my wonderful, perfect husky melted my heart, "My health will be fine. What's important right now is you. All night, through this entire op, all I've been able to think about is getting back to you. I love you so much, Elise, just give me a chance to give you the same share of time as I've given another partner who didn't deserve it nearly as much as you do tonight." I was dumbfounded, but I still managed to silently roll over and crawl on top of him, "Alex, I..." He caressed my cheeks and told me that he wanted me, and I kissed him on the lips again. And again. And again, until his paws started exploring, the tongues started rolling in, and I began kissing his neck. I knew it was happening that night, and I said softly, "Alex, you've still had a long day. Just relax. I'll take care of you tonight."

A Short Post-Chapter Commentary from...

Manny

** ** Sup, Blake. I just wanted to let you know that I looked up what "boi" meant, and I am going to clarify right here and right now that I definitely meant "boy" with a "y". Don't get any ideas, pretty boy.

Blake

Sure ya did. ;p