FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

If there was one thing I could never bring myself to understand it was where the hell all of the connections that the dragons at this temple seemed to have came from. Tyranny had a plane for Hudson and I that same afternoon, which according to him, was sitting on a runway at an airport about ten miles from the base of the mountain. Problem was, I couldn't exactly fly there without stirring attention and since I was pretty sure airport security wasn't about to let a 20 foot long dragon just jump on a plane for Iraq, Master Otani had to get a little creative. What he did was fairly interesting. He, Tyranny's friend Ditch and a few other Guardians put a spell on me that turned me human again. After I got done in Iraq, the spell would wear off and I would return to my now permanent dragon form. I did have to wonder exactly what it was that Siazach had done to me that Master Otani and the guardians couldn't un do, but, because of Tyranny, I didn't want it undone. Once Master Otani had finished the spell, I looked just like I did before I turned, the same clothes, skin and orange streak in my hair, the only difference was my eyes remained the same as they were as a dragon, a problem I fixed myself with a cheap pair of sunglasses Hudson gave me. I grabbed a few things from my room, stuck my tags in my pocket because they were too big for my neck and then went out to meet Hudson.

"Ready to go", He said opening the driver side door of his Camaro.

"Yep", I said opening the passenger side and sliding in. The interior of Hudson's Camaro was very, very nice. Most of the plastic had been replaced with what looked like hand pounded, hand sanded and brushed aluminum, the seats and seat belts seemed to be out of a race car and they were both black with a white "Recaro" logo on them. The gauges were definitely aftermarket and all the knobs and dials were the same brushed aluminum as the dash. The shifter looked custom and the steering wheel had the same Recaro logo as the seats and seat belts, or more seat harnesses. The floor mats were very clean and the car, for being almost 40 years old, looked and smelled brand new.

"How do you hook up these belts?", I asked trying un successfully to buckle them.

"Like this", Hudson said doing up his harness. I copied his movements and the belt was soon secure. Hudson started the car. Not only did I hear the same sound I had come to associate with the sound of our 92 Train with, but I also heard what sounded rather like a vacuum cleaner.

"What the hell is that?", I asked.

"A Roots FS-41", Hudson answered.

"A what?", I asked, "I didn't understand a word of that."

"Supercharger", Hudson said, "compresses 6.5 pounds of boost."

"Ah", I said, "did you build this car yourself?"

"Yeah", Hudson said, "I got it when I was 17 in a ditch in Fresno for about 350 dollars and at the time, it had no transmission, no Differential, the tunnel was all cut apart, the wheels were rusted and the tires were shit. I brought it back to Texas and took it to my Dad's metal shop where we did all the body work, took all the rust out of it and then rebuilt the stock V8 from the ground up. All aluminum forged block, milled pistons, cams, valves, heads, exhaust, fly wheel, all that stuff. But even though the parts are stock specs, the material we used was mostly steel and aluminum. On low boost I'm putting about 350 to the rear wheels and on High were making about 550."

"Seems like a lot of work for a car you picked up in a ditch", I said.

"Your not a car person Emelia", Hudson said as he drove the Camaro from the front of the lodge, down the small access road and onto the pavement of the mountain race track, "for us, the work is worth it, no matter how bad the car is or how much work it takes."

"I'll take your word for it", I said as Hudson waited for a Toyota Corolla to pass us before turning out onto the road and shifting the car into second gear. The Porsche seemed to hang back, as if it wanted to race. Hudson drove up behind him and was going to pass before the driver of the Corolla sped up and cut us off.

"Oh so you wanna play that game huh?", Hudson asked dropping a gear, causing the car to lurch, "alright then, let's play."

Hudson put the pedal of his Camaro to the floor, easily overtaking the old Toyota. The Corolla did catch up with him in a corner, but he was just turning in as Hudson was already coming out. The old Toyota was on Hudson's bumper the entire way down the mountain, but was never able to catch him.

"Ouch", Hudson said as we slowed for a yield sign, "a Japanese car just got beat on Japan's premiere Tuner circuit by an American Muscle car."

"What's the big deal?", I asked, "you were faster."

"It isn't all about going fast Emelia", Hudson said, "you gotta have power in a usable package that's drive-able, stops, goes, turns, has down force and looks cool in the process. 60-0 is just as, if not more, important than 0-60."

"What is the 0-60 of this car?", I asked as Hudson stopped for a light.

"3.5", Hudson said turning on a blinker.

I whistled, "that's wicked quick."

"Not really", Hudson said, "John's Plymouth Barracuda had a V-10 and was going 0-60 in less than 2 seconds."

I sighed.

"Hudson, you think HDR will even...", I paused, I was going to imply that I was concerned that HDR might not work, then remembered Tyranny, then thought, just cause it worked for him, doesn't mean it will work for John.

"Do I wonder if HDR will work?", Hudson asked changing gears, "yes."

"Tyranny is HDR", I sighed. Not meaning for it to come out, just thinking out loud I guess. I half expected Hudson to go off on me, but he remained quite composed.

"He is is he?", Hudson asked, "what's his story?"

"Vietnam civil war", I said, "a flame throwing tank sprayed him from behind and melted the flesh on 95% of his body."

"Fuckin hell", Hudson sighed.

"Tyranny told me he was so badly injured he couldn't sign his name, so his Sargent forged his signature", I told him.

"John didn't have to sign though?", Hudson said,.

"My guess was because Tyranny was still alert to what was going on around him", I said, "I don't really think John was aware of anything but us and pain."

Hudson sighed, "good point. Still though...can I ask you something?"

"Shoot", I said.

"What was it like seeing your sister die?", Hudson asked, "I heard you and Tyranny talking about it a few nights ago."

'It hurt", I said, "that's all I can say, it hurt."

Hudson shook his head, "I can relate, John was like a little brother. We grew up together. Ever since that night...sometimes I get these feelings like It really should have been me to take all that force. I mean, John was married with two kids, Jackson had a home to go back to, Issac had Nephews to look after, and Wyatt had a business to run. Me? I lived in an apartment in the run down section of Fort Stockton. I had nothing and no one to go back to."

I didn't answer, I couldn't find the right one. Hudson turned into the airport where two guys in black suits pointed us towards a divided runway. Hudson turned his Camaro onto it and started speeding down it, going through all six gears. He started to slow down as we neared the end of the runway where a plane about the size of a C-75 was waiting for us. It had four propeller engines and was wailing just like Hudson's Camaro. The pilot was standing in front of the front landing gear, looking like he'd been called on his day off because of his white shirt and blue jeans.

"Is this thing supercharged?", I asked.

"Sounds like", Hudson said pulling up to the Pilot.

"You must be Hudson?", he asked.

"I am", he said, "you are?"

"You can call me Nemo", the man said, "I'll be taking you to Iraq because I owe your Dragon buddy a favor, after this, tell him were square. Drive your Camaro into my cargo bed, "I'll be taking off shortly."

Hudson nodded and drove around to the back of the plane, driving his Camaro up a ramp and into a cargo hold. He and I secured it and Nemo took off once we were settled in. There wasn't much to do on the flight but rest, so that's what we did, for the entirety of 18 hours, by the time we landed in Iraq, it was dark out. Nemo helped us unload the Camaro and we drove from the airport to the Highway that lead to Firebase Charlie. Hudson checked both ways before turning onto the Highway.

"Think Holland will hear us out?", Hudson asked.

"He will if he's still alive", I sighed.

'What do you mean?", Hudson inquired.

"He said he had to send a team of kids on a suicide mission", I said, "something about how the team knew something too much, and it was either send them to die, or they get Court Martialed on falsified evidence and put to sleep."

"Put to sleep eh?", Hudson sighed, "since when does the Army put people down?"

"They were a Draco squad", I said, "they weren't people they were dragons."

Hudson shook his head as we turned into the entrance of Firebase Charlie. He dropped to first gear and came to a stop between the two guard towers at the gate. I could hear two of the soldiers, one of them Corey, talking.

"Where the fuck did these guys get a 69 Camaro SS?", Corey asked.

"With a wide body and a supercharger to boot?", the second man asked as he approached the Camaro. Hudson rolled down the window.

"Captain Weaver?", the Marine asked, "the hell are you doing here sir? I thought Raven was disavowed?"

"I'm not hear as a Marine", Hudson said, "I'm here as a civilian, I need to speak to General Holland as quickly as possible, trust me, you really don't want to know why."

The Marine sighed, "I'm not going to ask questions sir, head on in and I'll say I never saw you, Holland's in kind of rough shape right now, so he might not wanna talk to you."

The Marine motioned to open the gate and Hudson drove inside. He parked at the command building where Holland's office was next to a Nissan 240 SX with a ton of custom work. It was very bright, Matte blue with black wheels and aftermarket bumpers, side skirts and a carbon fiber looking wing. There were neon tubes glowing the same blue color as the car underneath all four wheels and underneath the car as well. The interior, which we could see through the open driver side door, was stripped like Hudson's Camaro with brushed aluminum, Recaro seats and seat belts and a steering wheel with a flat bottom and a Momo Italy Logo on it. There was an AK-47 with a grenade launcher in it in the passenger seat, a combat vest in the back along with a duffel bag and a Desert Eagle. There was also all kinds of things in the open trunk, mostly food and boxes of ammo.

"Wonder who this piece belongs to?", Hudson asked looking it over and then walking inside. We had to argue with one of the Marines who was out front of Holland's office before he shouted from inside, "Solider let Captain Weaver and Private Renxiang in!"

The marine sighed and the opened the door, we stepped inside. Holland's office was a mess, there were boxes everywhere, stuff was covered in plastic wrap and taken apart. Holland himself was in pretty bad shape. His arms were covered in bruises, his left arm was in a cast and he had a black eye and stitches in his right arm. He was wearing a jean jacket, blue jeans and a white shirt underneath it.

"No offense sir but you look like shit", Hudson said.

"Seen better days Captain", Holland said, "and don't take this the wrong way, but why are you here?"

"I need weapons and ammunition", Hudson said handing Holland a piece of paper.

"This is a pretty big list Marine", Holland said, "what you thinking your gonna do?"

"What I was trained to do", Hudson said, "fight a war. Sir, I'm gonna sound crazy for saying this, but the forces of Satan are about to sweep over this planet like a plague."

"Say no more Captain", Holland said, "your welcome to all the Draco shit you can fit in your Camaro, fill up a Deuce and take it back where ever your going for all I care."

"Just like that?", Hudson asked, "spill it, what the fuck happened to you?"

"Sargent Taro Salanth happened", Holland said, "the Draco Brass decided they'd had enough of Taro actually being a solider and getting things done so they told me, "either you send him on a suicide mission, or we falsify evidence, Court Martial them and put them down". Taro overheard me talking with one of the Terrorists they were using....Hudson...those...kids...have a hit on them, the youngest and oldest are 14 and 16, what the fuck am I supposed to do? I can't exactly help them because Taro thinks I'm dead. If I show my face again, he'll make sure I am."

"Why the hell are you asking me what to do?", Hudson asked, "you have what? 30 years of Military Experience over me? How am I supposed to give you advice?"

Holland shook his head, "never mind then. I'm so done with Project Draco. I'm just as much of a tool as the kids are. Your lucky you got out when you did."

"So where are you going?", I asked.

"The Chez Republic", Holland said, "I'm gonna go to work for an old friend of mine who takes crap engines that no one makes parts for and hands his customers back 4 figure monsters."

"If I'm ever in that part of town I'll pull ya up brother", Hudson said, "By the way, that 240 out there yours?"

"Yeah", Holland said, 'Got a stock LS-1 in it, making about 400 at the rear."

"Nice job brother", Hudson said, "now what did you say about a deuce?"

"Head on over to the armory", Holland said, 'I'll have a deuce outside that you can fill with all the Draco hardware you want."

"Thanks Holland", Hudson said, "we'll need it."

"We even by the way", Holland said, "and if anyone comes to you looking for me, tell them they can find me at the base of Mt. Siania, slowly decaying in the ruins of a chopper crash."

"Will do", Hudson said.

Holland picked up a radio and called ahead as we left. When we got to the armory, there was a black deuce waiting for us with Corey.

"Holland radioed ahead", he said, "said to give you access to the Draco weapons. Though the one question I have is, where are they coming in at?"

"What do you mean?", I asked.

"Don't play dumb Emelia", He said, "I knew something was up when I saw you and Hudson pulled in, and I was reassured when I heard him talking to you. I heard about "The forces of Satan are about to roll over the planet." Care to enlighten me?"

"Not really", I said.

"Well you don't get your weapons until I get answers", Corey said, "I'm a PMC, I don't have to follow Holland's orders."

Hudson sighed, "long story short, Emelia was fucked, she got un fucked and in the process screwed the planet with out realizing it. Her demon friend is possibly days away from unleashing an Undead army on the world and we are the only ones who know how there gonna get in. We can stop them, but not unless you let us get our equipment."

Corey sighed, "You have any idea what this army of your demon numbers in at?"

"No clue", Hudson said.

"Then your gonna need more men if you expect to get out alive", Corey said, "I can help with that."

"Then your in", Hudson said, "now, let's get our shit."

"What you need?", Corey asked as we walked inside and un locked a cell door.

Hudson rattled off the list to Corey. I'd tell you exactly what was on it, but I'd be here for hours trying to list it. It took us about 2 hours to load all of the supplies onto the Deuce. Once the truck was loaded, Hudson, Corey and I departed the base with Holland behind us almost all the way to the airport, where he turned off, headed a different direction. Once we were back on the Tarmac, we loaded up Nemo's plane, left the Deuce behind and started back of Japan.