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Lock and Load

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by D.C. Yote

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"Lock and load, ladies, we got a lotta work to get done today."

Crouched behind a dumpster at the foot of the mid-rise office block, as nondescript a location as one could find, Yote wrinkled his muzzle. Dora hunched beside him, constantly shifting her weight from paw to paw as if she simply couldn't bear to stay still. The German Shepherd growled softly under her breath, itching for action lurking barely beyond her twitching fingertips.

A headset allowed the coyote to communicate with the other Shepsister, Danica, their eye in the sky and sniper of the mission, and he tapped the microphone, held safely close to his muzzle before speaking. His ears tipped back, flat and dull against his skull as he put as much derision as he could into his words. It didn't come easily to him.

"I'll start working when you stop calling me a lady, Danica. You remember it's not just Dora down here, right?"

The blonde German Shepherd grinned and patted him heavily between his ears like he was a four-legged dog. A couple of nights ago, she'd dyed the tips of her hair a shocking pink and forgotten to take it out before launching into the mission at her usual reckless pace, a variance from her sharp norm that he couldn't fail to notice. Of course, her trademark pink pistols, Glock 19s, were secured at either hip, so the canine would have only said she'd matched anyway, if anyone had dared to bring it up.

No one dared.

Danica's voice crackled over the radio, buzzing in his ear.

"When you stop behaving like one. Now move. You two got a clear shot to the door."

He growled and muttered, keeping his voice low as a large-bellied panther stepped out of the back entrance, a cigarette dangling from his fingers.

"You sure about that? We got a live one at two o'clock."

Yote trusted the radio to transmit his voice, despite his low, careful volume. The Shepsisters sure had some sweet gear in comparison to his last company. And it was good to be back in the field good and proper again. Regardless of the mission, something about being in the field made his blood sing, heart pounding hard to keep up with the constant, simmering adrenaline.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll have him. Just need you two layabouts to move your tails before I take him out."

Yote grimaced and shot Dora a look.

"Is she always this bossy?"

"I heard that!"

Dora's lips twisted and she rolled her eyes.

"Pretty much. Half the time I end up ripping out that stupid headset and chucking it on the floor somewhere. She doesn't like that very much."

Grinning, she looked Yote up and down, finger playing with the leather sheath of the blade laid down her thigh. He shook his head, one eyebrow raised. Sometimes the German Shepherd seemed to have kitted herself up with everything out of a weapons shop and more.

"But maybe there's something in it for you if, you know, you get her hackles up a bit, little 'yote," she crooned, eyes flickering with something deeper.

Yote gulped and shrank back an inch, but she followed him, trailing her finger down the side of his muzzle.

"I'm sure I could think up something mighty special if you could really do a good job for me and piss my sister off, Yote. Something really special."

The coyote swallowed, shivering from the absence of her touch as she retracted her paw, pushing her sharply cut blonde hair back from her cheeks. A cool breeze caressed his brown fur, stirring up a crisp packet against his boots. He paid it no mind. The coyote only had eyes for Dora.

Danica's voice crackled into life.

"I wouldn't count on it. You have me to contend with when we get out of here. And don't forget who's covering your flank. Now move it! Let's get this done, ladies!"

Yote didn't comment, jaw set as he propelled his body into action. Muscles contracted, movement flowing from limb to limb as he slunk down the side of the building, paws softly coming down on debris so that not even a paper cup made a noise beneath his booted paw as he moved. Dora followed close on his heels as he relished in the sensation of his own body working as it was designed to, doing the job he was best at. It had been waiting to be used for all this time.

It was time to focus.

Buckling down to the job, Yote stepped into the line of the sight of the panther at the door, who was leaning back against a wall riddled with graffiti in the back alley, smoking a cigarette.

He probably wasn't aware that it was the last one he would ever have.

"Hey, fella," Yote said, lips pulling up on one side in a cocky smirk. "Heads up."

The panther whipped his head to look, lips parting and forehead creasing into an angry line. But he never got the chance to speak as his head exploded in a shower of blood and brains. Yote coolly stepped back from the splash zone, blood streaming down the wall as the panther's body belatedly slumped and toppled, lifeless, to the dirty ground. The last thing he saw was the coyote before life left him.

Yote took a deep breath, fingers tingling. It was a strange feeling. He didn't realise how much he'd missed it. But the stench of raw, hot blood made his nose screw up all the same.

"Did you have to make it so messy?" He asked Danica over the headset.

"It keeps her quiet."

"Woo-hoo-hoo - that was amazing!" Dora grabbed Yote's paw and punched the air, though her eyes never once stopped scanning the area, watching for danger. "Danica, I didn't know you still had it in you, you ol' girl!"

"Dora, I'm a few minutes older than you. Shut your trap and get on with the mission. We've wasted enough time already."

Dora smirked and blew Yote a kiss, slinking past the felled panther with barely a second glance.

"Roger that," she said, suddenly all business. "You got an eye on us?"

"Of course. Get in there, I've got you covered." The radio crackled. "The only advice I got for you two on this one is to lead them into the windows, if you can. I'm sure they'll clock onto the fact that I'm out here once their guys start dropping like flies, but we'll press the advantage for as long as we can."

Yote nodded, inching around the doorframe after Dora with his ears pricked.

"Get in, get out. I know the drill, Danica."

"Good to know."

The back door dropped them into a narrow hallway lined with further doors, which could only have been used for cleaning supplies or the like. Moving away from the windows made Yote's hackles raise, but he tried to soothe the flicker of discomfort, resting his paw on the rifle at his hip to remind himself that he was not alone in there. They had weapons too, and, boy, did they know how to use them.

Following Dora down the long corridor, he kept his ears pricked, swivelling to catch any modicum of noise there was. But there was no one there to hinder them and the stairs at the end of the corridor proved too inviting to pass up, offering a silent escalation to the next floor. Sharing a look with Dora, they nodded in unison and launched themselves up the stairs, pausing at each and every corner to clear the area before progressing. It never paid to be too hasty, although Yote could see Dora growing increasingly fidgety at the lack of action as they darted off the stairs onto the first floor and through the main fire door.

"Head for the top and keep going," Danica instructed. "They got the windows blacked out up there so I can't tell you what's going on, but I'll bet my tail that that's where that scum Tendajj is hunkered down. He knows we're coming."

Peering into an empty open-plan office lined with forlorn looking cubicles and the odd fake plant, the coyote couldn't help himself.

"So, does that mean I get your tail tonight if you're wrong?" Yote quipped, a smile tugging at his lips despite the severity of the situation.

Dora shot him a look and he smiled sheepishly even as Danica delivered her comeback as smoothly as ever.

"I'll have yours instead just for that snark."

"Promises, promises."

The coyote stiffened as Dora paced through the office, pink pistols suddenly in each paw. When had she even had time to draw them? He shook himself. Sometimes the German Shepherd was even quicker than him. He'd have to keep up.

But the quiet of the perfectly normally, nondescript office sent a chill down his spine, as cliché as it felt. It was the middle of the week - shouldn't there have been someone in the office, if only to clean it? Wasn't it just a front for the slavery ring? It was a pretty poor one if so, unpopulated and left empty as if it was nothing more than a bare pretence at concealing just what was going on beneath the surface. Not even the computers were on, placed on the desks as if for show. Giving the area a quick sweep - he had to trust Dora to do that ahead of him for the time being - he ducked his head beneath one of the desks. The metal of the prongs on a computer plug gleamed at him in the low light. They hadn't even bothered to plug the computers in.

"Dora."

She ignored him, stalking the office with a cool, calculating stare. But she clearly had the same trepidations as he, levelling her pistols as Yote protected her back.

"There's nothing here, Danica," she said. "You sure we got the right place? There was that time in Bermuda -"

"Of course it's the right place. Keep your heads up, ladies. Something doesn't feel right about this to me."

"No kidding," Yote muttered.

Stepping in front of the large windows, which ran from floor to ceiling, Yote swallowed, letting the sunlight stream onto his fur. It seemed the wrong kind of day to be busting up a slavery ring, though he found himself beginning to doubt that there was even one based in the office building, as unnerving as the place was. It just seemed like it had been abandoned, or a floor left empty for another company to roll in and begin work at any time. There was nothing unusual about that and certainly nothing that should have indicated foul play.

"Got an eye on you, Yote. Nothing still?"

"You'd have heard if so."

"Strange. Keep moving."

He followed Dora to the end of the office, stepping in front of a frosted glass pane that separated a private office from the main body of the open-plan cubicles, eyes wary. A shadow shifted on the other side of the frosted glass and Yote sprung into action, Dora's eyes on the far door.

"On your left!"

He barked the words, surely deafening the Shepsisters as his voice transmitted over the radio - a necessary evil for a quick reaction. Six furs shot from the room like lightning, clad head to toe in classic suits and shirts as if they had just come from a meeting and he would have believed their innocence if they hadn't clasped guns in each and every paw with deadly intent.

Spinning on her heel, Dora seemed to move in slow motion, a smirk spreading across her muzzle as she leapt, dodging the shots as she fired her own. The pink pistols shone as if happy to be out and in use again and their bullets sank neatly into the chests of each target, one after the other. Little holes burst through their tailored shirts, appearing comical in the moment before blood seeped through and, one by one, the bodies hit the floor, nothing more than lead weights in sudden death.

Yote didn't sling his rifle - an AR15 style piece that was customised to the nines - again and didn't bother to count the ones that he'd hit. Numbers didn't matter in a missions: it wasn't a game. Dora crowed and bounced on the balls of her hind paws, jubilant in their swift victory.

"Too quick - we could have had some real fun with those, Yote! Let me have the others next time, all right?"

She punched his arm, tongue lolling from her muzzle. Yote winced. Even when she was playing around, she hit hard!

"I got movement on the floor above you. Seems you've started something. Keep a level head and move up, we'll clear them out floor by floor."

Yote and Dora sobered up quickly and, checking the area, took themselves back down the office to the stairs. It may not have been the swiftest route, but it would confuse anyone intent on causing them trouble if they were expecting them to arrive on the other side of the second floor. But they had a lot of floors left to go.

They found the second floor understandably empty and Dora spat words about the cowardly slavers retreating to higher levels as if they had anywhere to go. Yote had to say he agreed with her, but tried to keep a steadier head and paw as they moved on to the third floor, hackles raised and skin prickling with a distinct sense of unease. The third floor looked just the same as the last, only they were being watched.

It didn't take him more than a cursory sweep of the room to spot the first shift of movement beneath a desk, a flash of metal denoting a weapon. His jaw hardened, reassured - even though he had not known that he needed reassuring - that the furs in this open floor were far from innocent. They had known they were coming. The room reverberated with an air of unnatural stillness as if the world was holding its breath around them, their little patch of justice in an otherwise chaotic world.

Sunshine streamed through the windows. Danica would have a clear shot if they got into any kind of trouble. Yote took a deep breath. It was a beautiful day for the slavers to die.

Nodding to Dora - she'd, of course, seen them too - he put his back to the wall and leapt onto a desk, throwing caution to the wind as he fired down through it. The bullet sliced cleanly through the wood and the fur beneath howled, body toppling to the side to reveal him as a common grey wolf. He clapped his paw over a streaming bullet hole in his upper arm, shooting the coyote a venomous look, already crawling and dragging his paws beneath his body. Yote frowned. A clean shot would have been better, but he couldn't be too choosy. He calmly dispatched the wolf with a bullet to the head and he dropped like a stone.

With that, the rest scrambled to their paws, forgoing their hiding places and seeking more appropriate cover from which to shoot. Yote snorted. What a mismatch of guns. Did they even think about the weapons they were holding? He narrowed his eyes, providing covering fire as Dora streaked past him, blonde hair whipping back from her face as her eyes rang with that crazy note that made his heart pound.

There wasn't much a load of thugs could do against a crazed German Shepherd with a penchant for blood. In a flash, the pink pistols were gone, only to be replaced by a pair of glinting knives, their handles wrapped with leather for grip. Yote knew those knives well; they were suited to the size of her paws and strength and all the more deadly for it.

Setting himself back to cover her, Yote kept one eye on Dora as she cackled and launched herself bodily at a tiger who stood a good head and shoulders taller than her. Her hind paws crashed into his chest and his firearm flew up, bullets sinking into the ceiling as her knife slashed his throat, spilling out his life essence. Blood splattered onto the carpet and Yote winced. He wouldn't be getting back up again. The rest of his gang seemed to realise that too, taking hesitant steps back as their resolve wavered.

Dora turned on them, teeth bared and the tiger's blood spotted across her chest. There was no running from her.

She took quick, but messy, care of the remainder of the thugs, letting Yote bear them down with bullets before darting in for a kill. With only one free fur left roaming the office with hatred burning in the backs of his eyes, she squeezed her arm down on his leopard companion's throat, letting him see the fear in the feline's eyes before she jabbed her blade into his chest and twisted. Blood poured down his stomach and she left him writhing out his death throes as she neatly ended the life of the last fur, a bear that didn't seem suited to turning on his tail like a cub and fleeing. But still he fled like the weakling he was and he did not survive regardless of his cowardice.

Glancing out the windows, Yote inhaled slowly and gave the ever-watching Danica a thumbs-up: room cleared.

"Could you have made that any messier, Dora?"

Danica's voice came disapprovingly over the radio, but her sister only threw her head back and laughed recklessly, firing a bullet into the nearest corpse just for good measure.

"Like you want a clean job here, Danica. Slavers don't deserve shit now, do they?"

"Can't say I disagree with you there."

Yote's ears pricked, taking the lead out of the floor and up to the next set of stairs, taking care not to step in any blood that may reduce the grip on his boots. That was something new in Danica's voice, something raw. He shook his head and filed away the note for later perusal when she spoke again, her voice pure steel.

"Give them hell."

The coyote nodded and called Dora after him, mind on the job. Whatever beef Danica had with the slavers - them in particular or the general, abusive trade - he had a job to do and couldn't take his eye off the ball for even one second. With Dora by his side, they cleared out several more floors scattered with fleeing furs, panic running ragged through the ring as they sought sanctuary where none was to be found.

They blazed through floor after floor as Yote let Dora do most of the work, not because he was not capable of it, but simply because the canine took such pleasure in it. It had been a long while since she'd been let off the leash, so to speak, and Dora took full advantage of it, leaving a stream of blood and entrails in her wake as she took care of her opponents the best was she knew how.

Danica only had to come to their aid once when a brutish moose slammed Dora into the wall. Dazed, the canine's legs dangled weakly for a moment as she blinked herself back to her senses, but a bullet drove clean through the larger fur's brain before he had the chance to loose a bullet into her heart. Throwing off and dispatching his target, Yote darted to her side and helped her to her paws, eyes scanning the area. Clear. They were clear.

"On to the next then."

There was no time to pause as they came to the second to topmost floor. Unlike all the others, it was completely bare of any furniture whatsoever without even a carpet to make it somewhat habitable. The windows were smeared and dirty, though not enough that Danica couldn't track them across the office.

"I don't like this. There's nowhere to hide here." Yote shuddered. "But it feels like there is something lying in wait."

Dora scoffed and twitched one ear.

"Get your head in the game, we're fine. Mission almost done and all that jazz."

She stretched out her arms and rolled her shoulders, working out the bruises and tension from the fight that had only escalated as they gained height within the building.

"Damn, it's good to be back in the game! This is what I should be doing, Yote! Not all those scrappy bodyguard jobs and picking off enemies that almost are begging to be killed. This is what we all should be at now!"

"Those jobs pay the big bucks, dear sister."

Dora scowled.

"Yeah, well, you do them then. I'll have this arsehole's head for what he's done to all those girls and I'll take a damn side more pleasure from it than I will guarding some bigwig with a small cock."

The conversation was cut short as Dora bounded up a small flight of stairs to an obviously reinforced door. She tested it with her paw, shook her head and dug into her pocket for a small, black device that she stuck to the door where the sleek handle tucked into the metal. Tapping it twice, she grabbed Yote and ducked back around the corner.

"What the -"

The resulting explosion answered his half-formed question, heat blasting his fur as debris flew past them. Smouldering chunks of metal sank into the wall, leaving scorch marks where they landed. Dora grinned and barked.

"Well, they know we're here now if they didn't already!"

Rolling his eyes, Yote half-shrugged and readied his weapon, the firearm sitting comfortably between his paws as if it belonged there. He went ahead of her through the scarred mess of a doorway and blinked, stepping into a dim hallway.

"Nice watching that fine tail of yours go ahead of me, little 'yote."

The coyote blushed and cursed under his breath, tucking his tail down over his rump as he fully entered the top floor - the dark floor where Danica could not track them through the windows. And nothing could have prepared him for the sight that greeted him. The penthouse could have been a scene from one of his best dreams ever, but, to the chained up slaves, it was a nightmare incarnate.

Clad in hues of crimson and black, the room took up the whole top floor in an open-plan fashion, adorned with the most extensive array of BDSM gear and furniture that he had ever had the good fortune - or misfortune - to see. Toys of all descriptions littered the room as if they had only just been used, bondage benches standing with leather straps hanging loosely undone at strategic points. The room would have given off an air of extravagant finery in the most erotic sense if found under different circumstances. The circumstances he found the room under was far from pleasant, as denoted by the line of naked furs, all female, knelt chained to the far wall, the subjects of the torture, for no pleasure was to be had as a slave, dealt at the hands of Tendajj.

The fur in question, the head of the slave ring, lounged on a throne at the far end of the room, a snow leopard slave with a heavy, steel collar massaging his large hind paws. The coyote sucked in a breath through his nostrils, heart pounding in his ears. So that was him. At his side, he felt Dora tense, ears pricked forward.

Coolly, the hyena stood from his elaborate, gaudy throne and dusted off his trousers. The snow leopard gulped and shrank back, making herself as small and insignificant as possible, hunkering down to the floor. A muscle in the corner of Yote's mouth twitched.

And then he saw the firearm in the hyena's paw, levelled straight at him. Time seemed to slow and Tendajj grinned charmingly, cheekbones cut and as handsome as he'd been in his headshot photos on the mission briefing.

"A pleasure to finally meet you, D.C. Yote. I've been waiting to give you something."

He didn't hear the gun firing. He didn't have time to. The bullet drove into his chest, slicing through the pocket above his heart. Yote flew backwards from the force of the bullet, eyes wide as he slammed into his back, head smacking the floor with a dull crack. Dora cried out, something between a howl and a shriek, a sound that no fur should ever have had to make.

"No!"

Dora stared, her jaw slack and hanging, tongue fluttered from her lips as stress bid her to pant. Yote lay still, eyes closed and fingers in a loose half-curl, arm flung out on the plush carpet. There was no smile on his lips. Lungs tight with breath that could not be gleaned, the canine hurled herself to the ground at his side, grabbing his combat jacket and struggling to rip it from him. He didn't respond when she shook his shoulders and he didn't blink when she kissed his forehead. Dora swallowed, blood roaring in her ears. She was only dimly aware of the hyena stepping down from the dais and kicking his slave aside. He was going to get up. He had to get up. He couldn't have been hit so easily, it just couldn't be!

But the hyena was advancing and the invisible paw around her throat wasn't letting up, squeezing tighter and tighter as she forced back emotion. Tendajj laughed.

"Oh, I am so sorry for your loss. I'll have a card sent. I've been waiting to get that one for some time, you know. Caused me no end of trouble."

Dora screamed as she drew her throwing knives and flicked them with deadly intent at the hyena.

"You pitiless cunt!"

The knife sank into his shoulder and Tendajj's eyes widened as if shocked that she'd actually had the gall to hit him. Dora laughed, though it came out in a broken sob, chest heaving. The second knife sliced his cheek, leaving a red line through the well-groomed fur. He clapped his paw to the cut and swore in his native tongue, though there was no time for ill-advised words as the German Shepherd hurled her grieving body into the attack.

She couldn't think of him. She had to think of revenge. Dora drove her fist into the hyena's face, a small part of her enjoying the satisfying crack as his nose broke. She tried to latch on to that and that sensation alone as she bore him down to the floor, fists pummelling his muzzle into a bloody, disfigured mess. Dazed, the hyena tried and failed to fend her off. When one of his paws gripped her clenched fist, she simply broke his wrist and left it dangling uselessly as the weak-willed slaver broke beneath her wrath.

The mission was won, but it was far from a success. Dora's veins ran with red-hot anger as she dragged Tendajj up by his hair, scorning the blubbering mass of a hyena.

"You fucking bastard! I'm going to rip your guts out chunk by fucking chunk and make you fucking watch!"

Dora raged, yanking the hyena's head back, paws around his throat. He spluttered, trying to bring his paws up to hers, but she smacked them away and snarled, a low, guttural sound that would have sent chills down anyone's spine. When he protested and tried again with his good paw, she struck him across the skull with such force that he slumped, knocked unconscious.

She couldn't even take pleasure in the fact that the room was strewn with so much bondage gear that tying him up was an easy task, securing his hind paws and wrists so that escape was impossible. As the hyena swam back to consciousness, she hissed through her teeth and shot him twice, once in each shoulder, with her pink pistols, savouring his pain. It would be nothing compared to the pain ripping through her gut, clawing into her stomach as if a monster was trying to tear its way out of her from the depths of her destroyed soul.

Snarling, she wrenched the slaver's head down and kicked him in the throat, letting him gasp and splutter, pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears. Oh no. She would make him pay. But nothing she did could make up for what he'd done.

"Dora."

The canine trailed the tip of her bloodied knife down his cheek, circling an eye socket contemplatively. The crazed glint had returned to her eye, though there was not a single drop of pleasure behind it. Tendajj gaped at her, one eye swelling shut.

"Dora?"

"I'm going to cut out your eyes before I'm done," she hissed. "But not before you've seen your own death, slowly. You'll know that the end is coming when it claims you, you worthless piece of shit. For all that you've done, you deserve far worse."

"Dora, get your head out of your arse and stop what you're doing. You can deal with that swine later."

The canine jerked and dropped Tendajj face first onto the floor.

"What?"

"He's not gone," Danica said through the radio, unable to keep the hint of amusement from her voice. "Look behind you."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you!"

Dora whipped around only to see it sitting up and ripping off his jacket and shirt, revealing a bulletproof vest underneath. The bullet gleamed from the safety of the vest, lodged into the protective barrier. She stared, hardly daring to believe that what she saw was the truth.

"Try telling me he's not your boyfriend now."

Dora snapped.

"He's_not_ my boyfriend!"

"Uh-huh. And you were weeping because your friend-not-friend-and-certainly-not-your-freaking-boyfriend was dead, weren't you?"

Dora rubbed her temples as Yote touched her arm, a soft, reassuring touch that she didn't want to admit she needed. The canine sighed, resisting the urge to lean into him.

"Knock it off, Danica." Her voice sounded tired. "I don't want to deal with this right now."

"Hey, he's the one who didn't get up straight away. You know he was playing it up, right?"

Her eyes shot wide and she turned on the coyote with her teeth bared.

"You did what?"

Holding up his paws, Yote grinned sheepishly and took a step back, ears splayed.

"Now, now... I just wanted to see what you'd do."

Dora growled, clenching her paw and gesturing around the room with her knife.

"We'll talk about that shit later. You go release the slaves, while I take care of a little business here. I don't want to see anyone but this cunt in chains right now."

Tendajj flinched from her as she returned her attention to him, running her thumb along the edge of the knife.

"No... Please!"

The hyena gulped, putting his bound paws together and slumping forward as if all the energy had been taken from his body. Dora stared him down, her eyes steely. Yote balked. He'd never seen that look before. There was something particularly deadly about it. Even more so than how she normally was in life and out in the field.

For the first time, Yote squashed down a flicker of fear stymied into life by his mistress. But, seeing the slaves quailing from the fight with a greater, ingrained fear in their eyes, he knew that Tendajj deserved every bit of torture Dora had to deliver to him.

He ignored the hyena's screams and gargled moans as blood filled his mouth, focusing on releasing the slaves, one by one. They barely moved from their positions, clinging on to each other as they were released, seeking comfort that only a warm body could give. Most averted their eyes from the dying slaver, tortured under Dora's calculating paw, though some had the bravery to stare him down, look him in the eye as his vision hazed over. It would be a while indeed before death truly claimed him.

"Keep your eyes in your head, Yote, and gather up some of this to take back." She fingered a leather flogging, a low murmur of appreciation rolling from her lips at the quality. "I can think of far better ways to use some of these things than on slaves who should never have been here."

He swallowed hard and eyed the flogger with greater trepidation.

"Taking it back with us? What do you mean?"

Dora rolled her eyes.

"Seriously, you think that innocent show is gonna work after what you just pulled? May as well put it to some good use now, hadn't we, Yote?"

He gulped and tried not to look at the gear, shivering as he imagined it being put to a much better use - on him. Smiling meekly, he nodded and looked down at his boots, fingers trembling without due cause.

"Yes, Dora."

The coyote licked his lips, suddenly torn between the coyote he was in private, with his mistress, and the assassin he was, the mission-taker who gave his all in the field. And there was something more there, something more between them that neither coyote or canine was willing, as yet, to put into words.

Slowly, Yote stretched out his paw to touch his love's cheek, curling his fingers softly into her fur. Dora blinked and closed her eyes, leaning into his touch.

The voice that crackled over the radio cut through the moment.

"Dora and Yote, sitting in a tree..."

"Danica!"