The Curse of the Yellow Monkey - Chapter 4 - Night School

Story by Dikran_O on SoFurry

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#4 of FOX Academy 3 - The Curse of the Yellow Monkey

 


FOX Academy:

Book I - The New Breed

Book II - The Werewolf of Odessa

Book II.5 - The Love who Spied Me

Book III - The Curse of the Yellow Monkey

Chapter 4 - Night School

Several days of fruitless activity had gone by since Silver's return and with each passing day the team grew more frustrated. Silver, on the other hand, seemed to grow calmer as time passed. He would show up to lend a paw, suggest an alternative or just to say how much he appreciated their hard work. They poured out their frustrations and concerns and he listened patiently, letting them vent. In that manner, they were able to keep going despite the apparent lack of progress. Only Tanner noticed that Silver wasn't acting like his old self. For one thing, he wasn't whistling.

Silver must have been one of those kits that can never sit still, Tanner supposed. At staff meetings, he would start tapping his pencil on the table until everyone else paused to stare at him. When he drove, he pumped his leg and sang along with the oldies on the radio, an painful experience that so far only Vikki seemed to be able to tolerate. And when ninety percent of his brain was occupied, analyzing, planning, comparing courses of action and possible outcomes on the fly, the other ten percent went off somewhere else and began whistling. Tanner was so used to it now that he could tell what Silver thinking by the tune. Planning was usually accompanied by Tchaikovsky's 'The Nutcracker Suite', analyzing was indicated by 'Unchained Melody' and Edith Pilaf's 'La Vie en Rose' went with making a difficult decision.

Not that Silver couldn't be motionless when he wanted to. Tanner had seen him lie as still as a stone from dawn to dusk, covered in scrim, camouflaged rifle resting on a sandbag, mosquitoes landing on his head empty and flying away full of blood. He could put himself into a state that resembled total physical relaxation, from which he was able to burst into action instantly. It was a something that Silver had practised for years to perfect. He appeared to be in a similar state now; a state of waiting.

Silver was in what was for him, an unusual position. In the past, he would be given an assignment and he would act. When there was not enough information he would go out and get some, sometimes leaving a trail of destruction in the process. He had to move cautiously now however, for the sake of Vikki, and his unborn son. That forced him to slow down, concentrate on guiding the team, because the combined effort of the team was the only hope they had of finding her alive. So he forced himself to be calm when all that he really wanted to do was go to the nearest outlet of Eden's Oasis, rip a few snouts off a few faces and shout questions into the bloody holes.

He watched the team for signs of frustration and fatigue. Silver noted that Joel seemed to be handling the pressure best; he had his on-line hobbies to escape to when he wanted to unwind. Geno was working out well as an analyst, but Marcel had little to occupy him, and he took to hanging around her workstation, hoping to learn something. Silver assigned him to extra sessions of combat and weapons training to get him out of Geno's fur, but made sure to schedule their off-duty time to coincide. He asked Tanner to have them housed in an isolated cabin on the Academy grounds, one usually reserved for questioning uncooperative informants; not only so that they would be closer to work if he needed them but also because their landlord had barricaded their apartment.

Kain Algorath seemed to having the most difficulty concentrating. His strength and stamina had improved over the last six months, and the Academy physician was confident that he would be able to resume his training one day, but he had lost that spark of genius that had made him an excellent, if somewhat insolent, hacker. Silver observed that whenever Kain was stuck, he would leave the Ops Centre and go back to his suite for a few minutes. Whatever he did there seemed to help shake him loose, but it wasn't making him any happier. On one occasion he overhead Geno saying to Marcel how lonely Kain was. Silver suspected that the sudden disappearance of Ophelia Sommer was affecting Algorath, but he didn't know what he should do about it.

So the team watched their monitors, waiting for a break in the case. Silver watched the team, hiding his apprehension and waiting for them to find something. Tanner watched Silver, waiting for him to whistle.

On the fourth day since Vikki's kidnapping, the waiting came to an end.

Although it was a very hard thing for him to do, Silver had made a habit of making himself scarce so that his constant presence wouldn't add more stress to an already tense atmosphere, so he was at the indoor shooting range when his pager went off. Notionally, he was there to practice, but it was only an excuse to be somewhere other than the Ops Centre. He was venting his frustration by trying difficult shots under steadily worsening conditions and had already burnt through over a hundred rounds of ammunition.

He was fully focused on the shoot and the beeping pager did not break his concentration, even though he had been praying for it to go off for days. He heard the 'swoosh' of a target appearing to his left, spun, identified it as a hostile, put two holes in the centre and one in the head region. His left paw dropped to his belt and came back up holding the pager. A quick glance to confirm that he was wanted back at the headquarters was interrupted by another sound behind him, low to the ground. Silver bent to look between his legs, pistol preceding, and saw a head target that had popped up from a fake stairwell. Firing and twisting simultaneously, he put three rounds into the target by the time he was prone on the floor, pager still clutched in his left paw.

The automatic range controller signalled the end of the scenario and the lights came up. Silver acknowledged the page and put the device back on his belt. Rusty would be pissed that he hadn't cleaned up after himself but would forgive him if he bought him a beer. Still, he checked his targets out of habit before leaving. The full-figure target on the left was a clean kill, and the head on the right had three holes in its forehead in a neat little triangle, unfortunately. On closer examination, Silver saw that it was blue, indicating a friendly. Damn, now he would owe Rusty two beers.

Back in the Ops Centre, the team was once again assembled in the briefing room. Joel was nearest the screen so he would be leading the presentation. Silver slid into a chair opposite the screen and nodded at Joel to begin. As Joel stood, the screen was filled with a fuzzy image of three figures on a concrete apron. The first was a diminutive yellow-furred creature whose face was obscured by a fedora. The second was a canine, a female husky in dark glasses. She was pushing the third, a tall shrouded figure, in a wheel chair. The title on the image identified it as a security camera at the private terminal of the Beverly Municipal Airport, taken three days ago.

"I stopped searching old image files for a match on the husky yesterday," Joel began, "and started searching new images instead. I got a hit this morning in the Boston area, it seems some pharmacist thought that she was suspicious and posted her picture on a web site the merchants there have. After finding that one, we concentrated on public cameras within a fifty-mile radius, and a few not-so-public ones that Kain was able to hack into for us. A little while ago, we found this shot, from an airport just north of Boston. It was too indistinct for a positive ID, but there is other evidence." Joel sat down and Kain stood to continue.

"The airport logs show that a private jet came in empty three days ago and left that evening with three passengers. We were able to trace it to Paris, where another passenger got on. Then it flew to Brussels, Belgium, where one passenger got off. After that, it went to Warsaw, where two of the remaining three debarked. Finally, it flew to Sydney, Australia to drop off the last passenger before returning empty to its home base in California. All of those cities have branches of Eden's Oasis. The jet was registered to Zeppo Productions, Okra's company." Kain sat and Geno took the floor.

"According to the more reliable gossip magazines Okra has put a plane at Doctor Dourado's disposal." Geno said. "We went over all the intercepts from the Eden's Oasis and Okra's Zeppo productions, but analysis shows nothing unusual. Her personal communications are a little harder to crack, she's protected herself well from the paparazzi, but we found one link to an unregistered satellite phone. Although we don't have the audio portion of the communications, the movement of that phone over the past year matches the known movements of Dourado. That phone was used in Warsaw yesterday."

"To sum up," Geno continued, "we believe that the yellow monkey and the husky took Vikki to Europe. It is unlikely that they would let her off the plane by herself, so she is probably in Warsaw with one of them." Geno sat down and they all looked at Silver.

"Do we know who got on the plane in Paris?"

Geno answered. "No, we don't know who the fourth person is. The security cameras were down for an hour before the plane's departure and the plane's crew were not allowed leaving the flight deck during the trip. As for the departures, since nine-eleven they have made it very hard to get into airports, but it's still relatively easy to get out of one unobserved, especially if you have already been waved through customs and immigration."

"These people have that much clout?" Silver wondered.

"If they don't, Okra does." Geno responded. "It is her plane."

Silver grunted, and turned to Joel. "How about the match for Marcel? You find any good candidates?"

Joel looked embarrassed. "Not exactly Silver, but I did find some alternates for you."

The scene on the screen changed to show a dapper, middle-aged arctic fox. The fox was wearing a well-cut suit, done in the European style, and he was smiling confidentially into the camera. Silver looked from the image to Kain Algorath and back.

"Who is it?" He asked Joel.

"André Renard. He is an up-and coming conservative politician in France. Word is that he will be president one day. Looks good doesn't he?" The image changed to one of the same fox, but he looked older, tired and ill in this one. "This was what he looked like a year ago, before becoming a customer of Eden's Oasis." The newer image reappeared in split-screen shot with an image of Kain. Slowly they morphed into a single image. The new fox looked close enough to pass for either of the two originals. "We can do this without reconstructive surgery." Joel continued; Kain looked relieved at that news. "And with Renard looking younger after each visit, no one at the spa will question Kain's youthful vigour."

Silver considered the implications of sending Algorath out in the field. The young fox had not completed agent training before being injured, and he hadn't even been cleared to resume that training yet. Then there was the language issue. He put thoughts of that off to one side for now.

"You said alternatives?"

The image of Renard/Algorath faded out and another image took its place. This one was a police mug shot, but the card the subject was holding up was in a foreign language. The person holding the card was a female feline, a cheetah with a white chest and forearms. Her hair was dyed bright red, and she had an extremely unpleasant look on her face.

"This is one Aniela Jaworski." Joel spoke. "She has an impressive record of armed robbery, assault and prostitution, or at least she would, if it had not have been erased from the polish police database last week. Fortunately for us, they back up their files at a remote site that our good friend Mister Algorath provided access to. We came across her name while checking into the private files of the spa's Warsaw branch; it seems that they only hire cheetahs, and only a particular sub-species at that, one found exclusively in Poland. Miss Jaworski was hired through a talent agency that usually provides protection for the flesh trade in Europe. She was due to start at Eden's Oasis this week but got involved in a bar brawl in Antwerp."

Silver wasn't watching the screen anymore, he was staring at Geno. Except for her yellow hair and happier expression she was dead ringer for the feline in the mug shot.

"You are a Canadian citizen," he addressed her, "otherwise we couldn't have hired you, but were you born one?"

Geno's face went a little red. "Uh, not exactly. My parents are Polish. They came to Canada just after they were married and took citizenship. Then the family business needed him back in Poland, so Dad started living there full-time, but he kept a residence here for tax purposes. I was born in Warsaw and lived there for the first ten years. They mailed in my citizenship application. When the Warsaw Pact broke up the family split up the business and he took the Canadian interests; I've lived here in Ottawa ever since."

"So you are fluent in Polish?"

"As long as I don't require anything more technical than grade-school vocabulary."

"Hmm. Probably not." Silver considered the information and turned to Marcel. "Marcel, what's the skateboarding circuit like in Europe this time of year?"

"There's tours and exhibitions going on all over. I could get onto any number of them and add a side trip to Warsaw easily enough."

"Stick to France, Belgium and the Netherlands for now." Silver said absently. He was gazing toward the ceiling, his eyes unfocused. "I have to go check on a few things over at the personnel records section. Good work everybody. Stand by for more instructions."

Silver got up and left the room, leaving them sitting around the table.

"Good work? That's all he has to say after we bust our asses for three days?" Geno complained once he was gone, but Kain and Joel were headed out the door and Marcel had already started searching the Internet for skateboarding events.

"That's just his way." Marcel said without looking around. "Believe me, if he wasn't happy with you, you'd know it. He'll get around to thanking you properly when he has less on his mind."

"Hrumph." Geno wasn't so sure about that. "He didn't look too concerned to me; and what was that he was whistling?"

"Some Russian Christmas Fairy ballet."

* * * * * * * *

Later that morning Kain saw Silver in the personnel section, with three files open in front of him and a map of the world pinned to the wall. Silver was whistling a Righteous Brothers Tune, deeply and slowly, as he stared at the files.

At lunch, Silver sat in the officer's section of the cafeteria, something he rarely did. It was a partitioned area where senior staff could talk Academy business privately amongst themselves. He hardly touched his meal, and one look at his face made other senior personnel head for different tables. Silver just sat staring out the window and whistling 'La Vie en Rose' over and over and over again.

Just at the point where the badger at the next table thought that he would strangle Silver if he started whistling that tune again, he fell silent. Silver stood up and picked up his tray. He paused by the badger's table as he headed for the racks to dump it.

"Sorry about the whistling Bob. Have my pudding." Silver put the untouched bowl of chocolate pudding on the badger's tray and left without waiting for a reply.

Once his paws were free Silver keyed the codes for Kain, Geno and Marcel into his pager along with the words "Briefing Room" and "1900".

At seven o'clock, the three arrived together to find Silver already in the briefing room. He was sitting at the head of the table talking on cellular phone. He waved them in and indicated that they should sit.

"Five minutes?" Silver asked into the phone. "In the interrogation room, okay?" Silver flipped the phone closed and turned to face them.

"Okay, you're going in, all three of you." Marcel pumped his arm, Geno smiled and Kain sat back with a stunned look on his face. "Marcel, you go in as Anthony Fox. I've managed to arrange an invitation from a member we have some leverage over." Marcel knew that with the combination of Kain's hacking and Joel's Photoshop skills they could probably get leverage on just about anyone. He wondered who it was.

"Algorath, you are going in as André' Renard. I checked our records and they show that you speak some French. How good are you?"

"Pretty good." Kain answered.

"Say something in French." Kain obligated, introducing himself and describing the explosion that had injured him so badly the year before. When he was done, Silver stared at him with a pained expression on his face.

"God, it's worse than I thought. That accent is atrocious. You sound like George Dubbya. Where did you learn French?"

"My tutor was from Texas, she taught French and Spanish, but it can't be that bad. It works fine around here."

Silver sighed. "The francophones around here are a lot more forgiving than L'Académie française in Paris; they don't even recognize the French spoken by the 'pure laine' in Outramont, let alone the franglish they speak in the Ottawa Valley. Listen." Silver leaned forward and repeated Kain's speech, word for word, but with a totally different accent and cadence. "That's the French Parisians speak." Silver spoke again, in a choppy, blunt manner. "That's the Marseilles accent, Renard's home town." Silver sat back.

"Obviously you can't go into Europe. You'd be spotted for a fraud the instant you opened your mouth. You'll be leaving for Sydney tomorrow morning, but don't bother packing. We'll provide the appropriate wardrobe and accouterments. You are going to be busy tonight in any event."

"Doing what Silver?"

"You'll see. Now Geno." Geno sat up straighter and tried to look professional. It was difficult since she had forgotten about Gold's dress code and had come to the meeting wearing a leather halter top two sizes too small for her generous bust and a matching mini skirt. Silver looked her over appraisingly.

"You on the other hand," he addressed her, "probably have just the right wardrobe for the job I have in mind. You are going to Warsaw to replace Aniela Jaworski. We found out that she has never been seen by, or talked on the phone with, anyone from the Warsaw branch of Eden's Oasis. The Antwerp police are suppressing the record of her arrest and we sent a message, supposedly from her agency, apologizing for mixing up the contract dates. You start in two days. The plane for Warsaw leaves at nine tomorrow morning."

"I guess that we better go pack and get some sleep then." Marcel said, taking Geno by the paw. "What time do I have to be in the Warsaw spa?"

"You're not going to Warsaw Marcel. You are going to Brussels"

"What? You can't send her in alone! It's her first field assignment!" He gripped her paw tighter. Geno gave Marcel an irritated look.

"She isn't going in alone." Silver stated. "I'm going to Warsaw with her." Marcel opened his maw to protest but Silver waved him down. "Algorath can't go to Europe, but he had almost completed the agent training so he can handle a simple reconnaissance mission in Sydney. Geno has to go to Warsaw because she is the only one who can get behind the scenes where there is likely to be some trace of Vikki. I still need someone to check out the Brussels spa, and maybe Paris as well. I can't show my face, or my torso, in one of those places again so it has to be you."

Silver leaned toward Marcel and looked him straight in the eyes. "I could send for a junior agent from one of the foreign stations to do it but your cover works nicely in this situation. Plus, I trust you and I want you close, but not right on top of me, in case something goes wrong in Warsaw." He held Marcel's gaze for a few more seconds before sitting back to wait for Marcel's reaction.

Marcel wasn't entirely sure, but he thought that he had just been complimented. He shrugged. "You're the boss."

Silver nodded. "And the boss is sending you over to the range to practice disarming incendiary devices. We don't want to see another spa going up on the Belgique version of COPS. Your Anthony Fox wardrobe will meet you at the airport at eight o'clock for the flight to Paris. A limo will take you from there. Get going."

Marcel gave Geno's paw a last squeeze and she squeezed him back somewhere less appropriate. Red-faced, he left the Ops Centre.

"You two come with me." Silver said as he stood and stepped to the door. Kain and Geno fell in behind him as he left the operations area and let them into the high security zone where only those with the proper clearances and a need to be there were allowed. Halfway down a silent hallway marked by metal doors that all had keypads and thumb print locks he stopped. He placed his thumb on the pad and entered his personal code with the other paw. The door clicked and he swung it open. He gestured Geno inside.

She had been in this room once before. This was where Gold had administered the challenge test that had gotten her hired by the Academy. Today the only occupant at the long scarred table was a tough-looking little female skunk, who was wearing an orange prison jumper and too much makeup.

"This is Zali." Silver introduced her. "Sometimes known as Bambi. Zali came to Canada on an entertainer's visa, as an exotic dancer to be exact. When that fell trough she found employment in a 'gentleman's health club' sometimes known as a whore house. Zali is now a guest of the state, awaiting deportation back to her homeland ... Poland. In exchange for a second chance, Zali has kindly offered to help you improve your Polish vocabulary in the, uhm, physical services realm.

Geno stepped over and held out a paw. " Dzie? dobry."

"Spierdalaj." The skunk answered with a sneer. Geno's paw curled into a fist and she prepared to leap but Silver stepped between them.

"Now, now Zali. Play nice. Remember our deal." Silver stayed until Geno backed off and Zali sat back down. "I'll leave you two girls to chat then. Come on Algorath."

Silver locked the females in and moved to the next door. He placed his thumb on the pad and entered his code again. Instead of opening, a panel slid back to reveal a retina scanner and a DNA swab. When both tests were positive, a second portal opened and Silver spoke a series of words into a voice analyzer. Finally, he entered another code into keypad. There was a loud click and the sound or retracting bolts as Silver stood back to let the door open.

"Jesus." Kain said nervously. "Who do you keep in this one Silver? Hannibal Lecter?"

"In here? This is the washroom. I just want to take a leak before I take you over to your French dialect coach. I'll be right out." Silver slipped inside and the door closed behind him, leaving Kain alone in the high security hallway without an escort. Kain wondered if it was some kind of test.

A minute later, he heard the door click and the bolts draw back and Silver was striding down the hall again. Kain hurried to follow. They entered a hallway decorated with wood panelling and carpet. Kain realized that they had come all the way around to the back of the building now, where the offices for the Director and his senior staff were. Silver passed a doorway with his own cover name on it and went to the end of the hall, to a door marked simply 'Director'.

There was an outer office with an L-shaped desk and several filing cabinets. Certificates on the wall attested to the shooting qualifications and martial arts prowess of the incumbent. The outer office was empty however, but the green leather-covered door to the inner office stood open.

Silver led him into the inner office. It was an impressive room, done in dark wood and antique furnishings. The desk alone must have been worth tens of thousands, and had a leather top to match the door. The room was as large as Kain's whole suite and the chairs looked more comfortable than his bed. A female poodle was sitting behind the desk, arranging papers in several folders laid out in front of her. She looked up when they entered, her right paw disappearing below the desk as she did. When she saw Silver her paw returned to sight and she smiled.

"I am just finishing with the day's correspondence, Silver. Is this your student?"

"Yes. Kain Algorath, this is Mademoiselle Chienne-Caniche, W's secretary. Before joining FOX she worked as a teacher in one of the private language schools that teach French to public servants seeking promotion. I've heard that she can get more out a student in less time that anyone else in the business. I'll leave you to it." Silver turned and strode out of the office.

Kain was left standing in front of the desk, uncertain as to what to say or do. The poodle continued to smile up at him with the patented poodle grin, but his eyes had already strayed to her bust, which was mostly exposed thanks to a loose, low-cut blouse. He stuck out a paw in desperation and introduced himself in French.

Mademoiselle Chienne-Caniche's pained expression was a match for Silver's earlier one. "Oh, mon Dieu. Please, do not speak. Silver was right; you do need special attention. Sit." Kain sat. Chienne-Caniche closed the folders and placed them in a drawer. She got up and walked around the desk to stand in front of Algorath.

She was a tall slim poodle with legs that seemed impossibly long, and her fur was trimmed in a traditional poodle style; cut short all over but with pom-poms on the ears, ankles, wrists and tail. Kain could see that her fur was mostly white but her ears were black. He had heard rumours that she also had two black spots on her lower back, just above her buttocks, but her blouse was covering that area. She was barefoot, and besides the blouse, she had on a tight skirt that came down to mid-thigh. She wore no jewellery, but her makeup was carefully applied. She leaned back against the desk and peered down on him over the curve of her bust.

"French is more than a language, mon chere, it is an attitude. Repeat after me." She led him through several difficult phrases.

"Non, non, non. You have to pace yourself and pronounce each syllable with the same emphasis until the last, which you stress." She dropped her paws to the arms of his chair and leaned down until her snout was above his and he had to strain to meet her gaze. "It is like with the sex, non? You make it last and last and you finish on a high note."

Kain dropped his eyes, but they only got halfway before they became locked on the opening in the top of her blouse. From this angle, Kain could see right down to her navel. The downy fur on the tops of her breasts looked soft and inviting, and he licked his lips unconsciously. He may not have noticed what he was doing, but she did, and she leaned back against the desk with a knowing grin on her face.

She made him practice pronouncing individual syllables and combinations. She had him use the French pronunciation on English words and phrases. She made him reverse the order of his adjectives and nouns. With every new exercise, she moved to a new position. She sat on the leather top of the desk and crossed her legs one way, then the other, over and over again until Kain thought that he would go cross-eyed. She stood behind him and leaned over him to shape his mouth with her paws, which made it difficult to hear her because then her breasts were covering his ears. She switched to the front and then he had a breast resting on each eye. Every time she passed, she managed to brush against his leg or trail her claws along his thigh. Soon he had to keep his legs crossed and it was taking all of his concentration to follow the exercises. He began to sweat from the effort.

Mademoiselle Chienne-Caniche decided that it was time to fulfil Silver's second request.

"Mon Dieu, but it is getting hot in here, n'est pas?" She undid most of the buttons on her blouse and pulled it free from her skirt. The Skirt had a zipper running down one side, from just below the waistband to the edge. She undid that also, and now one snowy hip and thigh jutted out that side. She turned, bent over the desk to retrieve a pencil. Kain could see the top halves of the legendary black spots when her stretching exposed her lower back. She looked over her shoulder and caught him staring at her ass. She turned to face him again.

"You need to work on your 'R's. Roll your tongue when you say them like this." Chienne-Caniche took the pencil and ran her tongue along its length, leaving it shiny with saliva. She stopped halfway and curled her tongue around it until she could let go with her paw.

"r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r" She breathed "R-r-reunion, r-r-revolution, r-r-respect." She pulled the pencil out of the loop of flesh she had formed, pausing at the pink tip of the eraser, working it in and out as she crooned "r-r-r-r-r, r-r-r-r-r, r-r-r-r-r." She held the glistening pencil out to Kain. "You try."

Kain's eyes were fixed on her mouth. His legs had come uncrossed and the bulge at his crotch threatened to burst free of his trousers. He took the pencil and stuck out his tongue, but it was too short to encircle it completely. "rah- rah-ragh" he gagged."

"Try again." She stepped closer, forcing herself between his legs. She undid the last button on her blouse. All that kept it from swinging all the way open was her erect nipples, Kain saw.

"rah-rah-rah-rah" His paws twitched as he fought the urge to separate her blouse from her breasts.

"You make everything sound like 'Rory' or 'Aurora'. You need to build up the muscles in your tongue." She reached out and ripped the pencil from his mouth. The motion set the blouse free, and now he could see the pink nipples sticking out from the white fur.

"raw-raw-raw-raw"

"Closer." Chienne-Caniche put a paw behind his head and pulled him up straight. She lifted one shapely leg and held it straight out to the side for an instant before bringing it slowly around to rest her ankle on the back of the chair.

"Raw-Raw-Raw-Rawr"

"Almost there." She reached behind with her free paw and the skirt came apart. It fell out of sight between their feet. He saw that she had not worn panties for this occasion. She pulled his head closer to her. Kain could see that her inner lips were swollen and protruding, already moist and glistening. He drank in her odour and the smell almost drove him crazy. He had been celibate since that night with Ophelia many months ago, although he occasionally woke up wet after dreaming of her. Chienne-Caniche continued to pull his head gently.

"Raw-Rawr-Rawr-mmpph" Kain's tongue made contact.

His paws came up and clutched her buttocks, kneaded them as he drove his tongue into her slit. The tip of his snout pressed against her clit as he traced the contours of her labia, drinking down the nectar that she produced. He tilted his head back so that he could lick the button of hard flesh that had developed at the apex, slurping at it like it was ice-cream on a cone.

"Non, mon ch're. Roll your tongue, roll it. r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r comme ca. Yes, that's the way." She threw her had back in pleasure as Kain curled and uncurled his tongue to flick at her clit. He produced a satisfying "r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r"

He ran his paws down her flanks and along her thighs, God but she was fit! It must be true what they said about her being a bodyguard as well as a secretary. He could trace the contours of each muscle under the thin layer of curly fur. He inserted two digits inside her and worked them slowly in and out, searching for the sensitive spot inside. She moaned in response. Encouraged, he pressed harder, drove digits deeper, until he felt the flesh swell inside her. He pulled at one buttock with his other paw as he did, and the tips of his digits brushed across her tailhole.

She stopped and pulled his paw away from her anus. "Non non, mon p'tit. This is French class. Greek another time, okay?"

Kain continued as before, using the free paw to tickle the tender flesh of her inner thighs now. He could feel her vagina growing tighter on his paw as it filled, almost ready to burst. Her clit stood out like the eraser on the abandoned pencil, hard and pink. She was grinding herself into him now, gasping for breath. Kain's tongue was getting numb, but he found new strength and lapped faster.

His efforts were rewarded with a shower of hot fluids and a howl from the mademoiselle.

He continued to rub his digits inside her and he tried to lap up as much of her juices as he could while her body shuddered and shock in orgasm. He slowed as her tremors abated and finally pulled his paw and tongue out of her when she lowered her leg. She fell to her knees in front of him, resting her arms on his legs, and rubbed his erection through the material of his trousers.

"r-r-r-r-r" he said.

"Tabernak, but you are a fast learner." She undid his belt and his fly and reached inside his boxers to grasp his penis. "Now we work on the letter 'i'. She is pronounced like you say the letter 'e'. Not as 'eye' but as 'yi'. Yi-yi-yi-yi. You see?" She pulled his throbbing cock out and stroked it slowly with her paw.

"Yee-yee-yee"

"Not quite. You have to pull your lips and the corners of your mouth back to show your teeth." She continued to fondle him while he tried to make the face she wanted. "Open a little wider, bon. More stress on the lips. Here I help you."

Chienne-Caniche lowered her head and took his cock into her mouth. Taking it all inside, she closed her mouth and worked her throat until he was covered in saliva. Pulling back and opening her mouth she said, "Say 'yi'."

Just as he started to open his mouth, she engulfed his staff again and pinched his sac with her claws.

"Yiiii!" he exclaimed in sudden shock.

"Better. Try again" She caressed his testicles to make the pain go away.

"Are you crazy? Someone will hear."

"Don't worry; the office is soundproof. Now try again."

Kain yipped as she plunged his cock repeatedly into her mouth, pinching his thigh or his testicles, sometimes nipping the head of his penis. She turned her head sideways and curled her tongue around him, sliding it up and down, reaching up to tweak his nipples. Soon the pain blended into the pleasure and became one. He could feel the pressure in his balls from months of abstinence building to a level he had not felt since he was a teenager.

Chienne-Caniche could feel it also, with the paw that continued to caress his balls. She squeezed the base of his cock and waited until she felt the first pulse of his internal pumps going into operation. Then she released him, pulling her head back out of the way at the same time; this felt like it would be a gusher. She was right.

With a final "Yiiiiii ..." Kain came like Old Faithful. Milky white fluid shot straight up into the air and fell back on him. His stomach clenched and his hips jerked as he drained. She continued to stoke him slowly but tightly until he could produce no more.

He lay back, powerless to move, his shaft slowly wilting. Cum pooled in his naval and oozed along his fur, threatening to spill onto the chair. Chienne-Caniche stood up and walked over to a door just inside the entrance to the Director's office, a private washroom, it seemed. Kain could hear water running. He admired her figure as she returned, carrying a damp towel.

She wrapped the towel around his limp member and dabbed at the spooge until his fur was clean. If she had gotten any on her, she had cleaned it off in the washroom. She had been thoughtful enough to use hot water and the towel was deliciously warm and moist. As she wiped him down, he felt himself becoming hard again, and the tip of his cock peeked out from the warm towel. He reached out with both paws and took her by the hips, tried to pull her onto the chair with him, but she was too strong, and refused to budge.

"Save your strength, mon amour." She said, and ran her claws through the fur on his head tenderly. "We still have 24 letters to go."

* * * * * * * * *

It was true that the Director's office was soundproof; it had to be because of the sensitivity of the information discussed there. The Director's safety was also important, however, and agents had been known to turn, to go bad. A monitor had been installed in Gold's office, so he could listen in and intervene if necessary. The monitor was activated now, but the volume had been lowered so as not to disturb Gold and Silver while they played Backgammon.

"Did she just say that they were going to do the whole alphabet?" Tanner asked as he contemplated a roll of three and five.

"Yep." Replied Silver. "They probably won't get more than five or six of the most important done before she exhausts him. He's still weak from the operations." He took the dice and rolled a double six.

"You get all the good rolls, but you could be wrong about Algorath. He's been working hard to get back in shape and showing good progress." He winced as Silver sent two of his stones to the bar.

"Want to put a little wager on it?" Silver proposed. "Win back some of what you're about to lose on this game?"

"You're on. Fifty says he makes it to at least the seventh letter. Now give me those dice and prepare to grovel when I take this game also."

Gold lost the game, and the match, but he broke even when Kain reached seven, and won big when Silver doubled it against Algorath making it to the ninth letter.

* * * * * * * * *

The next morning a poorer Silver went around collecting the team and giving them their final instructions before they left for the airport.

His first stop was the indoor range; where Rusty, the Academy's Combat Instructor, had set up a series of explosive disarming exercises for Marcel. Silver wondered how well Marcel had done. Rusty's bombs were notoriously tricky, and filled with enough black powder to make failure sting.

When he opened the inner door he could smell the strong odour of burnt cordite. One look at Marcel's singed fur and Silver was on the cell phone to the Academy hair stylist. When he was finished he raised his brows in Rusty's direction.

"I call him 'El Kaboom' now; but he's got the hang of it." Rusty shrugged.

"Some of his devices are friggin' unpossible." Marcel complained, tossing a long black tube to Silver. "How do you deal with this one?"

Silver examined it for a moment. It looked like a cigar tube covered in black rubber shrink-wrap, with no visible openings. He knew instinctively that removing the wrap would trip an anti-tampering device. He tossed the device high into the air and down-range from where they stood. He drew and fired his Glock in one fluid motion. The device exploded with a burst of fire and smoke and the smell of gunpowder got stronger as the fans struggled to deal with the cloud of fumes.

"Run like hell or blow it in place." Silver said as he slipped the gun back under his jacket. "Some things you just don't fool with, no matter how good you are. Let's go get you cleaned up."

"Do I get a chance to say goodbye to Geno before I go?"

"She'll be going in for a make-over too, so you'll see her in passing, but don't be late for your plane." Silver walked with him to the headquarters where the stylist and make-up artist awaited them. Joel had hung posters of Kain/André and Geno/Aniela for them to work off of, but Marcel only needed to look like himself, change clothes and cover himself with gaudy jewellery to play the nouveau riche bad boy of the professional skateboarding circuit. The stylist began by clipping away all the singed fur.

Silver left him there and went to fetch Geno. She had been locked in the interrogation room with the Polish hooker all night, but she had proved herself to be as tough as they come when she accidentally became involved in Academy business last year. Still, the skunk was a hard one, and he hoped that she had not given Geno too much difficultly.

The door to the interrogation room was designed to open silently or with a squealing 'rusty hinge' sound effect, depending on the psychological impact they wanted for the subject. Silver opened it in silent mode just because that's the way it was set already. He took a glance into the room and stepped back outside quickly, closing the door just as quietly. Geno and Zali were getting along just fine.

The skunk had only agreed to coach Geno in the terminology used in the massage parlours and bawdy houses of Poland, but apparently Zali had decided to add in a demonstration; they had been lying on the table naked with heads buried in each-other's crotches when Silver had stepped in. Silver suspected that the image of Geno holding the skunk's tail out of the way while she lapped at her gaping pink pussy would stay in his head for quite a while.

Silver turned on the intercom in the hallway and heard the soft 'bing' through the door. He cleared his throat and announced that he was over at the range and would be coming to collect her in ten minutes. He was tempted to put the intercom on 'listen' and hang out there for a while but he went to the cafeteria to see if they had any fresh coffee instead.

Ten minutes later he was at the door again, but he switched it to 'squeal' just in case they had lost track of time. Geno and Zali were sitting on opposite sides of the table, looking innocently at him as he stood in the doorway. He decided not to break the illusion by mentioning that Zali's panties were still on the floor under her chair.

"Come along Geno. Someone from Security will be by to take you back to the detention centre Zali. I suspect that you will be hearing from your immigration case officer in a day or two." He closed the door, locking her back in the interrogation room.

Geno was silent as they made their way to the make-up room.

"So, you girls get along okay?" Silver asked.

"We weren't at each other's throats, if that's what you mean." She casually replied.

No, he mused, not the throats anyways. They arrived at the make-up room to find the stylist just fluffing up Marcel's facial fur to make up for the lost volume.

"You two have a few minutes to say your goodbyes. If there's anything you need taken care of while you are gone, Marcel, leave a note with Geno and I'll see that it's handled." Silver left to get Kain.

He found Algorath snoring lightly on W's couch. Mademoiselle Chienne-Caniche was nowhere to be seen, but there was a note stuck to Kain's forehead. It read "He's good enough to fool anyone from the US, UK, Australia or the Conservative party. I'm taking the day off, you explain to W." It was signed 'C-C'.

Silver shook Kain's shoulder. "Come on Algorath, time to get up."

Kain put his arms across his eyes and moaned. "No, no more. Can't get it up again. Let me die you evil ... oh, hi Silver. I thought you were someone else."

Silver helped him up, concealing the admiration he felt to the young fox, despite losing a hundred dollars on him. He made a mental note to schedule him for the Bangkok training when he made agent. He led him down to the cafeteria for some breakfast and strong coffee; the make-up team would be busy with Geno for at least another hour. He left Algorath there and told him where to find the room then went to check on other arrangements.

He had left instructions to be called when they were finished with Geno so that he could escort her to the airport. Although they would not be sitting together, they would be on the same flight to Warsaw. He was just filling his pockets with last minute necessities when the page came through telling him that she was done.

When he returned to the make-up room he found the stylist waiting for him in the hallway, red-faced with embarrassment and anger. The make-up artist was in the room working on a sleeping Algorath, inserting silicon forms in his cheeks, but Geno was no longer there. Silver suspected that she may have made a scene over having her hair dyed red to match the missing masseuse, Aniela Jaworski.

"Alright," he addressed the stylist calmly, "what happened?"

The stylist was a middle-aged grey rabbit doe, one who had worked for the academy for several years. She had missed the cold war days, however, when shattered bodies from both sides were regularly brought in and made to look alive once more for a final photo shoot. Many an agent had been 'last seen' about to embark on some dangerous activity with photographic evidence to back it up, conveniently produced when the battered body was found on the ground with an unopened parachute or downriver from the rapids still jammed into a kayak. Silver was afraid that the current headquarters' staff had not been desensitized to the realities of their work properly.

"You left me alone with those two, the little black fox and his ... his ... whatever you call that feline. Do you know what they did? Do you?" the stylist screamed.

"I can guess."

"They yelled at each other. They knocked things over. They called each other the most horrible names."

"That would have been my second guess."

"Then they went into the washroom together and they ... well, it was just as noisy and they made the whole suite shake. Look at my shampoo, its all bubbly now!" She waved it in front of Silver's snout, making it foam. "Afterwards she strolls back in here like nothing has happened and asks for a trim and a curl. I tell you, I never ..."

Oh you probably have, just without as much vigour, Silver thought, but he said "I'll take care of it. Where is she now?" He made a mental note to have Gold review the support staff training procedures.

The stylist had sent Geno away as soon as she was done, fearing the return of Marcel and a repeat of their erotic soap opera. Silver found her in the Cafeteria, destroying a pile of waffles and an entire jug of milk. He sat with her until she was done and they went out to the van that would take them and their luggage to the airport together.

"I saw Kain Algorath come in for his make over." Geno said to make conversation as they rode. "He looked beat."

"Well, our tutor is notoriously thorough."

"Was it hard for him, learning the French accent?"

"You could say that, yes." Silver mumbled. "Oh, by the way, I've had the quartermaster include some cleverly disguised devices in your luggage. We can go over them in the hotel tonight. In the meantime, take this." He handed her a flat green package. Geno examined it. It looked like a package of sugar-free gum.

"What is it, some kind of communications device?"

"No. It's gum. You chew it on takeoff and landing. It keeps your ears from popping." He slid the foil and plastic holder out of the sleeve and popped a piece in his mouth. "Hope you like Spearmint."

* * * * * * * *

In another part of another world, a virtual world, an avatar depicting a ferocious tiger lurched to life. It stood and spoke a series of unrelated words. A doorway opened before it and the tiger stepped out onto the streets of Tilia Life. It made its way down the street to one of Lao Huidan's establishments and walked in, ignoring the bouncer. A few minutes later it was in Lao's private office in front of the virtual computer screen there.

Nearby in the virtual sense, but perhaps thousands of kilometres away in reality, someone else monitored a duplicate of the screen in Lao's. They saw the tiger access one of its email accounts and watched as it opened and discarded emails one after the other. When it came to an email from an address that was becoming familiar to the watcher it lingered, opened an attachment and left it on the screen for a minute.

The watcher made sure that his system had captured the image properly and forwarded it to Lao's account. He reset the alerts to notify him if the Stalker's accounts were accessed and went to make some tea. He sipped the steaming brew as he gazed out over the Mumbai skyline and thought about the attachment.

It had listed four names and their itineraries on three flights; one to Paris, one to Warsaw and one to Sydney. He wondered why Lao Huidan wanted this material. He wondered why the security on it was so high. Mostly, he wondered why he had been told to be on the lookout for the name 'Silver'.