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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

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Book IV - Wait For No One

Chapter 7 - Water Water Everywhere

Hurricane Eunice was a category three storm when it hit the gulf coast, but had diminished to a category two, then a one, as it moved inland. By the time it hit Nebraska it was no longer technically a hurricane, its winds having diminished to a mere sixty miles per hour. But its clouds covered a swath seven hundred miles wide, and it continued to churn slowly north, dumping rain in record amounts as it went.

Old-timers knew that the winds were not to be feared so much as was the deluge that came after. Flooding following a hurricane did more property damage and took the most lives. So they packed their vehicles and watched the rivers for the first signs of overflowing. But while the rivers filled to capacity that night they did not overflow, not in the mid-west.

Over Ontario, Quebec and the north-east states a second system rotated counter-clockwise. It picked up moisture as it swung over the eastern Atlantic and the Great Lakes. Then when the cool moist air met the warm air being pushed up ahead of Eunice a line of thunderstorms formed. Tornadoes were reported throughout southern Ontario. Storms such as this usually resulted in washouts and localized flooding, but not this time.

Another system blowing in off the pacific was dumping rain on the west coast and in the Rockies. Parts of Oregon, Washington State and British Columbia were inundated and declared emergencies. Flash floods cascaded down both sides of the mountains, but there was devastation only on the western slopes. On the eastern side of the Rockies the Project had its effect. The water was channelled away from the towns and the cities, and the citizens did not even notice.

The media focused on the devastation on the west coast, ignoring the non-story of tropical storm Eunice. In Washington and Ottawa officials that had a part in the Project congratulated themselves. The system that the Tasmanian platypus had built for them seemed to be working wonderfully, so far. They understood that it is not just the rain that falls on you that causes flooding, but also the water that falls elsewhere and flows down to you. After the storm passed, assuming that everything held up, they would reveal the Project's true scope and pronounce it a success. Twenty-four hours would tell, and then they could start lobbying to have a similar system built for the west coast, Alaska, the south-east ... there would be enough work to form a whole new department. Their bureaucratic stars would rise as surely as the tides.

But tides turn. With the continent's communications systems as inundated as Seattle's rivers the word that there was something strange going on with the Project was slow getting around. It would be twenty four hours before everyone with any knowledge of it was contacted. About the same amount of time it would take for the waters rushing through secret conduits to reach the mid-west.

* * * * * * * *

Kain spent the night desperately trying to juggle the flow of information. Requests and data went out whenever communications permitted. Questions, answers, and more data came back, clogging the available bandwidth. Throughout it all Kain tried to keep a small pipe free for him to probe the control system he had discovered the night before. It was not an easy job.

Around midnight the analysts that had been on the day shift began drifting back in. From the comments he overheard at the Duty Officer's station Kain gathered that Silver had authorized twenty-four hour operation of the cafeteria and day care centre. Extra work stations were set up in the offices near the Ops Centre, and cots were set up in the interrogation rooms. No one would be going home until the situation was resolved.

Geno joined him sometime during the night, having left a sleepy Leslie with Ms. Brown. Kain assumed that Marcel was hanging around Silver, trying to convince him to mount a rescue mission. He would have to find something for the junior agent to do in the Ops Centre once Silver kicked him out of the restricted area. Meanwhile, Kain set Geno to mapping out all of the uncharted dikes, canals and levees he was discovering. Determining whether they were part of the Project's authorized works or not was proving to be difficult. Documentation continued to be forwarded to them from Joel's lab over in the technical building, but the lemur had not added any comments in hours. Kain was sure that the analysts could benefit from the forger's insight.

"Geno," he said, turning to face her, "can you have Joel come over and give us an update on the document search?" He noted that Geno had forgone her usual revealing outfits for one of Marcel's baggy track suits, the ones he got from one of his cover persona's sponsors. At least it was baggy on the diminutive black fox, Geno's bust and ass were doing things to the material that Kain was certain the sponsor would have loved to see on a billboard. Momentarily distracted, he missed most of her reply.

" ... so I'll go see him myself. Was there anything else you needed while I'm over there?" Geno finished.

"Uh, no." Kain was a little embarrassed to catch himself staring at her chest, even if Geno didn't seem to have noticed. Had she said that Joel was working on some new line of inquiry and was too busy to come over? "Before you go though," he continued, "could you get Marcel to check in officially. He's showing as absent on the status board."

"I'll sign him in." Geno replied rather hastily. "He's over helping Joel. They will probably be at it the rest of the night and all tomorrow." She adjusted Marcel's status to show that he was in the documentation lab at the support building. Then she grabbed her purse and headed for the exit, calling back to Kain over her shoulder. "I'm going to see Joel and Marcel now. Back in a few minutes."

Kain wondered what line of inquiry Marcel could possibly be helping Joel with. The little black fox had talent, street smarts and survival instincts, but no analytical or computer skills whatsoever. But another influx of data drove the line of thought from his mind before he could pursue it. He hardly even noticed Geno returning several minutes later.

"Talk to Joel?" He asked without turning away from his monitor or pausing on the keyboard.

"Yes. He had a little computer problem but it's fixed now. He will send his analysis around regularly." She was already opening windows on her monitor and absorbing data as she answered. Kain grunted and continued with the task of managing the information flow.

By dawn they felt that they had a good enough picture to brief the new Chief of Staff. They transferred their files to the workstation in the briefing room. Silver joined them a moment later. To save time Kain decided to display the results on the desktop monitor in front of the Chief of Staff's chair, rather than the big screen.

"What we have detected," Kain began, "is a huge network of channels, canals and pipes that are designed to move water, as one would expect for a project of this type." The screen lit up with a map of the continent. Red lines scaled to represent flow capacity appeared and soon obscured the map. Kain noticed that Silver was turning his head to and fro, raising and lowering it, adjusting where his glasses sat on his snout.

"Do you want me to switch to the big screen?" Kan asked.

"No. This pair of glasses is supposed to be for working on a computer." Silver answered. "But everything is foggy. Are you sure the screen resolution is set properly?"

Kain peeked at the monitor. It looked fine to him. He took a close look at Silver's glasses. The lenses were covered with paw prints and smudges. One smear looked like peanut butter. Kain reached into the bag that he always carried at his side and brought out a soft blue cloth. He held it out to Silver.

Silver took it and removed his glasses. He wiped his eyes with the cloth and replaced the spectacles. He peered at the screen again.

"Nope. No better." Silver said, holding the cloth out for Kain to retrieve. Kain took his lens cleaning cloth with the tips of two claws. There was a wet, brown stain in the middle from the eye boogers that dark-skinned foxes like Silver were prone to. Geno, who was there to assist should more detail be required, reached over and lifted Silver's glasses off his face. Silver pulled back at first but then allowed her to do it.

"I went through this with my dad when he got his first glasses." She commented. Seeing that Kain's cloth was useless now she spat on the lenses and lifted her track suit top to polish them with the soft inner lining. Silver squinted and tried to see what she was doing. Kain looked on open-mouthed. Lifting the top revealed that the track suit pants were riding low on her hips; low enough to see where the straps of a yellow thong came together. And when she leaned back to inspect the lenses Kain could see the undersides of a matching brassiere. Kain suddenly sat down and put his paws on his lap. I really need to get away for a few days and visit Cass, he thought.

Satisfied, Geno put the glasses back on Silver's snout and adjusted her top. Silver, who had missed her revealing performance, looked at the screen, nodded, thanked her and motioned for Kain to continue the briefing.

"The way that this is supposed to work, according to the description filed with the federal authorities, is that these conduits take water away from populated areas and to the power generators. The excess is stored in catch basins, old mines and huge reservoirs for generating electricity in the dry season. The problem is that all of those reservoirs have been filled, recently and surreptitiously. The water is not being routed around anyone as much as it is being aimed. It's all heading for the mid-west and the great Lakes region."

The screen changed to show two horseshoe-shaped lines in black. "This shows the water containment system that has been built, over half of it in secret. Instead of preventing the flood waters from crossing into the low-lying inhabited areas they will keep the waters there." Another set of short black lines appeared, lines that bisected the blue lines of the natural rivers. "What electricity is being generated by this system is being used to pump water back into the containment area."

"What's the bottom line here?" Silver asked. His voice was steady but a faint line had appeared in his brow.

"They are trying to flood the entire mid-west and Champlain Region." Geno answered. "I ran a computer simulation using rough estimates of the rainfall and the normal flow for this time of year." The horseshoes on the map filled with blue. Silver noted that the time scale indicated seventy-two hours had elapsed in the simulation.

"So we have three days to stop them." He stated.

"Uh, no." Geno frowned. "I ran it again, adding the water from all those reservoirs they built and filled up in the hills." The map cleared and the black sacks filled with blue again. This time the time scale showed that only fifty-five hours had passed. "Then I calculated the flow of the rivers that they could redirect into the area." The sequence ran much quicker this time.

"Thirty-six hours?" Silver read the elapsed time off the screen. "We have only Thirty-six hours to figure out how to stop him?"

"Less actually." Kain said, nervously. "After a certain point flooding is unavoidable." He ran the simulation again at a reduced speed. The blue of the existing rivers and lakes grew slowly but steadily as the time scale lengthened, until it reached roughly the eighteen hour mark. Then the rate of expansion increased dramatically. Ninety-five percent of the land was covered in fifty percent of the time. "Even if we open all the drains at that that point we still lose most of fifteen states and three provinces. He ran it again with the new parameters. The horseshoe-shaped areas did not quite fill up, but it took four days of simulated time to drain them. Kain toggled the continuous play button and the cycle repeated itself.

"How are they managing this?" Silver watched the centre of the continent fill up with blue and drain.

"It's being controlled by a program that looks like it was designed to maximize the efficiency of the grid." Kain answered. "At first I thought that it was a government system, because it links all of the private, corporate and state utilities, everything that's regulated. But it traces back to northern Saskatchewan. From there, they can control the flow of water for most of the continent. And everything is being turned inward."

"Is there a chance we can evacuate the affected area?"

"Getting the message out will be difficult, convincing the Prime Minister and the President even harder." Geno said. "Even though it's not New York or LA there are still tens of millions of people in the area, and they will be trying to move by car and bus through the worst storm of the decade. Nothing is flying, so except for a few cities on the edges, there is no where they can get to that is safe in the time available."

"Make a list of those peripheral cities and forward it to Gold at the Privy Council Office. We will have to do what we can." Silver sounded resigned. "Kain. Can you get around this control system and turn some of that water around?"

"It would be easier to hack into the control system itself, even though it is as well protected as the CIA's Intranet. One hack and we have total control, but we will only be able to issue our commands once. After that we'll have to launch a denial-of-service attack on it to prevent them from countermanding our commands. That will prevent us from adjusting as we go. It will be an all-or-nothing deal. And there is one big problem."

"What's that?"

A lot of water is already on its way; more than the drainage capacity." He pointed to the screen where the continent continued to fill quickly and drain slowly. "Some flooding is inevitable." He left it unsaid that death and destruction would accompany the floods.

"Get us into that system, Kain. We need to reroute what we can." Silver ordered. "Geno, find the path of least damage. Find the places with the smallest population, where the economic damage will be the least. But first, drop these files onto a secure thumb drive for me. I have to go to the US embassy. They should have a direct line to the White House. I have to convince them of the danger. We will need them on-line when the time comes to make a decision, if there is still time for that." Silver stood up, his face set and his shoulders back, radiating a confidence that he did not feel.

"There may not be time to get everyone on board. But we must act when we still have the ability to do so." The older fox looked from Kain to Geno. Even through the thick glass lenses they were captured by the intensity of his glare. "Above all else, it is imperative that we do not miss that window of opportunity. We must act when the time comes. Do you understand me?"

Kain and Geno answered in the affirmative. Silver looked down to switch off the screen and the spell was broken. Geno returned to her workstation to compile the files Silver needed while Kain retrieved his personal laptop from his bag and plugged it into the Academy network. The laptop contained his hacker tools and all the codes and passwords he had collected over the years. With these he had once broken into the Pentagon, and almost breached the holy-of-holies, the National Security Agency. A job like that could take weeks, but if the Platypus had used code and connections from his access to the legitimate government network to build his secret control system Kain could probably find a backdoor into it. He crossed his digits and said a little prayer before settling down to work.

Kain's mind worked on several levels. One part examined and analysed the control network, searching for vulnerabilities. Another portion tried various methods and tools to break in where it already appeared weak. A third bit monitored the information coming into the duty station, in case anything came in that altered the picture they had painted for Silver. A quick glance every few minutes at the summaries provided by the electronic in-basket was usually enough.

One item caught his eye. The military wanted to know if FOX still needed the aircraft that was on standby in Ottawa. They had been waiting since midnight for the weather to clear enough for the insertion mission to Saskatchewan, and the crew was nearing the mandatory crew rest period. The weather was clearing, but leaving now would violate flight safety rules, and there was no other crew available. There were provisions for making an exception, but authority from the FOX Chief of Staff was required to do so. They wanted an immediate reply.

Kain opened the message and saw that the original request was attached. He opened the attachment and read the air transportation request in amazement. It was for two passengers, and as was typical of FOX operations, contained no names, just descriptions of the agents. A short black fox to be inserted by air and a ring-tailed lemur, listed as a mission specialist. It was signed simply 'Gold', and stamped with the FOX academy logo. A stamp that only the Chief of Staff had access too; unless it was a cleaver forgery of course.

Kain closed the attachment and reopened it in a graphics program. He quickly copied the signature and stamp from the forged request and pasted it on a copy of the request to extend the crew's hours. He used a program from his laptop to create a font based on a sample of the former Chief of Staff's writing. Kain used the font to add the single word "Authorized" above the signature. He printed the new document and faxed it back to the Air Force Operations Centre. Hopefully, they would not have heard about Gold's promotion to Director yet.

Kain went back to work, one part of his mind analysing, one part hacking, and a small portion wondering if he would be sharing a cell with Marcel and Joel soon.

* * * * * * * *

Dawn found Dongo crouched in a stand of bulrushes several kilometres away from the wreak of his truck. He was tired, but far from exhausted. He was used to spending days at a time stalking a target and knew how to conserve his energy. Now he sat in the shallow water, keeping perfectly still as the sky lightened around him. He had been sitting like that since an hour before sunup, and he would stay like this for another hour, or more if that is what it took.

He and the big alligator Minko Holata had been engaged in a deadly game of cat and mouse during the night. The reptile had natural camouflage, waterproofing and the ability to use the river to his advantage. Dongo had his training, his skill and a deep smouldering desire for vengeance to keep him going. The garbage bags he had put on under his clothing helped too.

Dongo had searched the banks of the river looking for the gator's trail. It was slow tedious work hampered by the rain and wind. But he was so quiet that the local wildlife went about its business undisturbed. Dongo came within four feet of a crane hunting feral frogs. He was just about to turn and try another direction when the crane lunged forward at something wiggling in the reeds. Massive jaws closed on the bird's neck before it could withdraw. The crane and Holata disappeared into the river before Dongo could aim and fire. A minute later the carcass of the crane popped to the surface thirty meters downstream. Its head was gone. There was no sign of the alligator. He seemed to be unarmed, at least.

An hour later Dongo felt that he was close again, but a soft splash heard through the rain indicated that the gator had moved off again. He was sticking close to the river, but moving steadily toward the berm that paralleled the highway. Dongo tried to work his way around between the wall of earth and the river.

Nearer the berm the river disappeared, becoming a wide marshy area with no clear channel. A gator's paradise. Dongo did not dare go in after him. But the Holata could not stay there forever. Inauguration was supposed to require his full attention. Dongo wondered how badly the project Security Chief needed to get back to the Project headquarters. Would the gator be able to find help inside the hunting grounds, he wondered? Maybe they had a hunting lodge with a telephone, a pickup truck or guns. Any of those would be bad news for Dongo.

The fox switched his search to the berm itself, seeking a trail or a spot where it would be easy to get over. He found a culvert with water bubbling out of it that appeared to go all the way through, but it was too narrow for the pot-bellied reptile to use. Dongo finally settled on a rocky slope as the best option, and settled into the nearby reeds to watch. Sooner or later the gator would make his move.

Daylight was not much different from darkness, the clouds were so thick, but Dongo saw the weeds near the water's edge move against the wind. He tightened his grip on the two pistols, they were cocked and ready, but he did not move a muscle. The weeds shook again.

Something erupted from the water and flew toward the berm. It took all of Dongo's training and discipline to keep from firing at it while it was in motion. It struck the rocky face of the wall with a 'thud', and slid back to rest at the base of the wall. It was too small to be an alligator Dongo realized, just in time to prevent himself from raising his guns and firing. It was grey and feathery. It was the body of the crane Holata had decapitated. Dongo froze, willing himself not to do so much as blink. If the crane had been thrown at the most obvious spot then ...

He heard a noise from behind him. A rustle of grass. Dongo turned as slowly as he could, moving his whole body rather than twisting his head around. About fifty meters away the grass was darker. The blades had been turned the other way by the passage of a body. The dark area was extending, getting closer to the foot of the berm. Dongo held his fire. The distance was extreme for a pistol and the alligator would have to break cover eventually.

When Holata did emerge he did it with amazing speed. Dongo could not have imagined someone so bulky being able to run so fast, let alone up a steep slope. He barely had time to aim before the gator reached the top, but he squeezed off a round just as his enemy reached the top of the berm. It was a long shot, in poor conditions, but he may still have hit the gator if the big reptile had not slipped and slid backwards just at the same time the gun fired. With a yelp, Holata disappeared over the mound.

Now Dongo had a problem. He still had three shots left, but the gator could be waiting on the other side to ambush him. It was impossible to know whether the gator was just on the other side, or had moved one way or another. And if he had any sort of projectile weapon Dongo would be a sitting duck as soon as he started to climb the slope.

Then Dongo remembered the culvert.

Dongo moved toward it, keeping low and slow. When he reached the pipe he estimated its width and decided that although it would be a snug fit he would be able to pass. The problem would be holding his breath long enough to make it through to the other side. Fortunately the pipe was corrugated metal and there would be plenty of paw holds. Dongo transferred his last three bullets to one gun and buried the other deep in the mud. He holstered the remaining pistol, pulled his felt hat down tight on his head and took a deep breath before diving into the tube.

It was blacker than night inside the pipe, and the force of the water threatened to push him back out, but Dongo's metal arm did not tire. Using his right paw to steady himself, he dragged himself forward with the other. He estimated that the berm must be at least ten meters from side to side, a little wider than it was tall. Twenty arm lengths perhaps.

He found the edge of the other end on the twenty first reach. Getting a firm grip with his metal paw he pulled the pistol with his right paw and prepared to pull himself out and up to the surface. Good thing, he thought, my lungs are about to burst. He pulled forward and raised his head slowly, so not to make a noise when it broke the surface.

Dongo was surprised when he did not feel the cool air on his head right away. Maybe the creek this culvert drained was backed up a bit, or maybe the pipe had sloped downward slightly without him noticing. He sat up as he exited but found himself still submerged. Now his lungs really were ready to burst. He searched for the slope and tried to pull himself upward, but became disoriented. He no longer knew if he was moving up, sideways or down. A spasm forced his mouth open and he swallowed involuntarily. But as he started to choke he saw the air bubble that had escaped rising, and he paddled madly after it. It felt like it took forever, and he had time to wonder at the depth of the water on this side.

Dongo broke the surface with a splash and a gasp that would have alerted a dead person. He had lost his pistol in his panic. There was no way that he would be able to locate it in the murky depths. He looked around franticly to see if the alligator was closing in on him. There was no sign of the giant reptile, but what he did see stunned him.

Behind him, with only the topmost few centimetres exposed above the waves, the berm stretched out for miles in either direction. In front of him there was nothing but an endless expanse of water.

* * * * * * * *

Marcel and Joel had been waiting nervously in the military Air movements Unit building in the restricted portion of the Ottawa international Airport for most of the night. There were no military aircraft permanently stationed there so they had to wait for a break in the weather for the airlift they had ordered to arrive. They lay down on a couple of couches and tried to sleep while they waited for word on the aircraft.

Shortly after midnight their sleep was disturbed when Marcel's cell phone rang. It was Geno, calling to warn them that Kain Algorath, the Duty Officer, was looking for Joel. He shook the lemur awake and Joel spoke to Geno for a moment. After disconnecting Joel pulled his laptop out and powered it up.

"Auto-forwarding the documents isn't good enough." He explained to Marcel. "I have to log into the remote server and start reviewing the stuff coming in so I can send comments in occasionally. You get some sleep. You're going to need it more than me." Marcel lay down on the couch, wrapped his tail around his waist, pulled his hood down over his face and fell back into an uncomfortable sleep.

The plane landed just before dawn. Marcel was expecting a Hercules, the propeller-driven cargo plane the forces had used forever. He was a little shocked to see a C-17 Globemaster taxi up. The four-engine jet transport was huge, big enough for a couple of hundred passengers at least. He and Joel ran though the rain, up the ramp and into the cavernous interior.

The co-pilot met them there. She was a tiny muskrat in a blue Air Force jumpsuit, with the midriff bulge that transport pilots and taxi drivers tend to develop from spending all their time sitting down.

"Captain Allison Beight." She introduced herself, pronouncing her last name as 'bait'. Joel noted that her uniform name tag read 'Squeaker'. One of those Air Force nicknames, he supposed, like 'Maverick' or 'Ice Wolf'. When she held out her right paw to shake he saw a circle bare of fur around her wrist. His eyebrows went up, but he did not comment on it, not in front of Marcel.

She explained that they had spent several hours on the tarmac of their home base before the weather cleared enough to attempt the flight to Ottawa. Then they had circled above the thunderstorms waiting for an opportunity to land for another hour. They were expecting another break in the weather in about an hour, but there was a problem. The crew was near the end of its shift when they got the call to go to Ottawa, and flying to Saskatchewan without a rest would put them over the safe limit.

"But don't worry," she assured them, "the pilot has already asked for permission to extend our hours. As soon as we hear back from your Chief of Staff we'll get the aircraft warmed up and ready to go."

"Uh, excuse us a second." Marcel. He pulled Joel over to one side and whispered harshly. "What the hell do we do now? Silver will freak when he sees that request!"

"What are you asking me for? This whole thing was your scheme in the first place! " Joel complained. Then his face lit up. "Wait! I have an idea. We need to convince them to take off without waiting for the reply. Once we are in the air I can forge authorization and send it as an email to their Blackberries. The storm has communications so screwed up they probably won't get the recall notice until it's too late. And if not ..." He stared at Marcel's holstered service pistol.

"Hijack an Air Force Plane? Are you crazy? Besides, how do we convince them to take off in the first place?"

Joel thought hard. "Uh ... maybe you could seduce the co-pilot?"

"Seduce her?" Marcel exploded. "I'm already in enough trouble with FOX, stealing an airplane, forging orders, absent from duty. But they will only jail me, if Geno catches me fooling around again on her she will skin my balls and replace the sack with a sandpaper pouch, gritty side in."

Joel looked around frantically. Fortunately the co-pilot had chosen that time to put on her headset and converse with someone over the intercom on the other side of the plane. She was standing there by the bulkhead, her flight suit tight where her waist bulged, her scaly black tail hanging limp behind her. She did not appear to have heard Marcel's outburst. She had her left paw up by her head to work the switch on the headset and the sleeve had fallen back from her wrist. It had a bare patch the same as the one on her right arm. Joel though that he knew what had caused those marks. He turned back to Marcel.

"Maybe I can, uhm, convince her to cooperate." Joel said slowly. "We're bound to have something in common."

"Give it a try, but don't get carried away." Marcel advised him. He was not so sure of the lemur's persuasive skills.

"Not to worry." Joel assured the young fox. "Restraint is my middle name." With that he turned his back on Marcel and walked over to the muskrat who was just unplugging her headset. "This is my first time on a plane this big." He told her in an enthusiastic voice.

"Would you like a tour?"

"Sure!"

Captain Beight led Joel up the centre of the cargo bay, explaining the capacities for different configurations and the capacities for carrying troops, parachutists, supplies and armoured vehicles.

"So you see, it's not the volume so much as the weight and the distribution of mass that determines how much of any one thing we can carry." She said she let him though a partition that divided the cargo area in two. The forward compartment was full of bright red webbed straps and belts. "Right now we're configured for airdrop in the rear and passengers in the forward section, but we could switch to all of one or the other in no time. The partition is just to reduce the noise for the passengers and it stows up in the ceiling. These straps and nets can be slung to make seating for passengers, or we can use them to tie things down. The long titanium pins go through those holes to create tie-down points wherever we need them."

Beight held out a wide strap with a brass ratchet on one end and one of the metal pins for Joel to examine. But instead of taking the device he reached past it and pushed her sleeves up, exposing the bare circles on her wrists.

"Stockholm Shackles." He said. "Your master should have lined them with padded silk inserts. They grip just as tight, but without damaging the fur. And the cool silk feels sooo good."

The muskrat pulled her paws back out of reach hurriedly. "I have no idea what you are talking about." She said. But she was looking at Joel in an interesting way.

"My apologies." Joel nodded submissively. "I must be mistaken."

"No problem." She said absently. "Come here and I'll show you how this works." Joel joined her in the centre of the compartment. "You sling the net like this, and slide this pole in behind, then tighten the straps that connect it to the ceiling, and voila!" The contraption looked like a mesh lawn chair with no legs. "Sit down." She said. Had her voice grown harsher?

Joel sat, threading his bushy tail through a hole in the netting. "Now, these straps criss-cross your torso to restrain you in case of turbulence." She snapped the belts into place. "For additional stability you can reach behind and slip your arms through the net." She guided his arms into position. "But you have to be careful, because if the stabilizing straps break you could be trapped." She reached up and flicked the safety catch on one of the ratchets. The strap it held zipped out, pulled by Joel's weight in the chair. He fell forward, his arms tangled in the netting and became trapped behind him. The metal floor of the aircraft was approaching fast. Joel closed his eyes, turned his head and gritted his teeth, preparing for impact.

Captain Beight reengaged the catch just before he hit the deck. Joel was suspended just above the floor, bent almost double with his ass above his head. He kicked his legs feebly.

"Hey! What gives?"

The muskrat did not answer at first. Instead, she started cranking another ratchet. Joel was rising, but still in his head-down position. Beight pulled one of the aluminium poles from the seat out and slid it in between his elbows and his back. Then she swung the helpless lemur around to face her.

"I stopped wearing the shackles long ago." She said, and gave Joel an evil grin. "Now I'm more ... dominant."

"Mother." Joel whimpered

"Quiet" she gave him a slap in the ass that sent him spinning in circles. She stopped him while he was facing away and did something to the straps he could not see. An instant later he was standing upright, his arms still trapped behind his back. The co-pilot reached around his waist and unbuckled his pants. With a jerk, she pulled them down to his knees, effectively immobilizing his legs. His underwear soon followed. Joel felt the cool processed air on his bare butt, and then he felt something else.

"Youch! What the hell was that!" He screamed.

"Pitot tube, for measuring air speed." She held the slender metal rod out in front for him to see. "It's amazing the things we carry in our spare parts bin. Oh look! Suspension straps!" She displayed a short leather loop for an instant, before swinging it hard against the tender inside of his thigh. She circled him, smacking his butt and legs with the leather strap and pulling his head back cruelly, choking him with the pitot tube.

"You ... can't do ... this." Joel grunted between clenched jaws. "Your crew ... agent ... in other compartment."

"The rest of the crew is in the hanger, getting some rest, and that partition is sound proof. The ramp is closed and the doors are locked. You are mine to do with as I please." Beight released his head and whacked him hard on each thigh.

"What makes you think that you'll get away with this?" Joel demanded.

"This." She answered, placing a soft paw on his swollen penis. "And the fact that you could recognize the damage done by Stockholm Shackles when applied by an incompetent master." She stoked his rising cock, but only once, and then she pinched one of his balls. "Who is your master now?"

The sharp pain shot straight to Joel's brain, to the pleasure centre. His prick stiffened. "You are Captain Beight." Joel gasped.

The muskrat slipped her shoes off, unzipped her flight suit and let it drop to the deck. She was wearing a black corset that lifted her plump breasts and left the nipples exposed. Matching thigh-length stockings were attached to it by silk straps. She wore no panties, and Joel could sense the heat coming off of her from down there.

"Don't call me captain, not when I'm out of uniform." She commanded.

"Allison? Youch!" The pain sensors overwhelmed the pleasure nodes for a moment. "That's a hell of a grip you have there ... Mistress Beight."

"Mistress!" She gave his left testicle a twist to the right. "I'm nobody's mistress."

"Master!" Joel cried out, hoping to get out of this with at least one ball intact. "Master Beight!"

"Masturbate? I'll decide who does what here." She slipped the leather loop around his cock and balls and lifted, forcing him onto tip toes.

"Mercy, mercy master." Joel panted.

"Mercy?" She said with a sneer, but she lowered him slightly. "What have you done for me to deserve mercy?" She released his parts and circled him again, but now the rod struck with delicate precision, just hard enough to make his skin tingle. In moments his cock was back up, and his tail was curled around his shoulders, exposing his buttocks to her stinging caress.

He heard her fumbling in the parts bin behind him. What would she produce this time? A whip antennae? She came back around with one paw behind her back and a grin on her face. Slowly, she produced her prize. It was one of the titanium securing pins. It looked to Joel to be almost a foot long, and it was thick.

"You, uh, weren't thinking of hitting me with that were you?" Joel asked uncertainly. She shook her head no and grinned wider. "Choking me with it?" No again. "Tying it between my teeth like a horse's bit and bridle?" She just ginned some more. "Oh come on, you can't be thinking of sticking that up ..." She erupted in giggles and cut him off.

"Bingo."

"Wait a damn second here!" Joel eyed the cold metal bar in panic. "What's the safety word? MARCEL! HELP"

"I told you, he can't hear you, and the door is locked. That partition can stop bullets, for when we transport dangerous prisoners. But don't worry," she crooned, "I won't put it in dry."

Joel envisioned her dipping the titanium dildo in axel grease or some other cancerogenic substance before splitting him with it. It was huge, and the grease dripping off its end would look like black spooge. He could just imagine what it would feel like going in. He shuddered and his cock ached as it grew even harder.

But Captain Beight had no intention of greasing him up just yet. She raised one thick leg up and hooked her ankle in the mesh by Joel's hip. She placed the opposite paw on his shoulder for support. She turned the pin around so the blunt end was pointed down and guided it to the cleft between her legs. She slid it back and forth, parting her lower lips with it, leaving a glistening trail of sweet moisture behind.

She kept her eyes locked on his face, but Joel had to look down. The golden-hued pin shone in the bright interior. As he watched she angled the pin up and inserted it into her vagina. She sighed deeply as it disappeared inside her.

In and out it went as her hips rolled. Joel's prick ached to take its place. Her digits dug into his muscle and her tail came up to wrap itself around his leg. It shifted higher, settling into the crease at the top of his thigh. Its tip tickled him underneath his tail. Joel was just starting to relax and enjoy the caresses when the whip-like tail cracked and stung his tender ass again. Startled, his eyes snapped back to hers. The evil grin was back.

"Your turn." She was holding the gleaming securing pin up, but not for long. It dropped down out of his line of sight, but Joel could feel its passage as the tip traveled down his chest, around over one hip, and down to the hole below his tail. It stopped there, pressing gently against the puckered portal.

"No. Oh no."

"Oh yes." Her face tensed as she twisted and pushed the long thick rod with all her might.

In the other compartment, Marcel's head snapped up. He could swear that he heard a wail from somewhere. It was gone now though, and did not come back. Must be another jet warming up, he supposed. He went back to checking the equipment they had brought.

Back in the forward compartment the muskrat had her paw clamped tightly over Joel's mouth. "Do that again and I'll hammer the last few inches of that pin into you." She hissed. Joel could only whine in response and blink his watery eyes.

Beight relaxed her grip, but kept her paw over his mouth as she adjusted her hold on the titanium pin. She extracted it slowly, turning it as it came out. When it was almost out she reversed it and rotated it back in again.

It wasn't Joel's first time in a situation like this, but he could pretend it was. It made it that much more exciting. The sensory overload from the carefully calculated blows was one thing, the delicious sensation of the cool metal rod stretching his sphincter was another. But the real thrill was in being helpless to stop the other person, especially when they were a stranger. Some thought that all that was required was total surrender on the submissive's part, but Joel understood that it was really a challenge to the dominant partner. A challenge that in the answering, gave control back to Joel.

He felt something on his prick. He looked down and saw that she had moved closer and was rubbing her clit with the tip of his cock. She continued to work the pin in and out of him while she rocked her hips against him. She wrapped her other arm around his neck and he could have screamed again if he wanted, but he didn't want to. Her leg went through the mesh of the cargo net and across the small of his back, just above his tail. His cock was being lubricated the same way the pin had been, by the juices that flowed from between her nether lips as they slid along the length of his prick.

Beight massaged his joint with her twat for a few moments and then she jumped, bringing her other leg up and around as she mashed her breasts into his face. An agile move for a pudgy muskrat, Joel had to admit. She had not even lost her grip on the suspension pin. When she lowered herself, his pulsating prick had no trouble finding her hole, and the two slid together with no trouble at all.

The Air Force officer buried her face in his shoulder and used her legs and arm to drive his cock in and out of her. Strange noises started to come from her, a high pitched "eek, eek, eek." Joel glanced down and saw that her eyes were shut and her teeth were clenched, but her nostrils were flaring with every breath. The noise was coming from them. She sounded just like one of those toys that you squeeze to make a funny sound. They had those little rubber noisemakers inside, what were they called? He suddenly remembered her Air Force handle, Squeaker. The interval between squeals was getting shorter as she moved faster on him.

She could not manipulate the pin as well in this position, could not pull it in and out like before. But she rotated it by twisting her wrist and that was good enough for Joel. With a flood of sensations coming from both sides he too started to gasp and his breath whistled through his open mouth in counterpoint to her tune. Trapped in the mesh he could not do more than buck his hips as she slammed down onto the base of his prick. The sound of his balls smacking her ass joined her squeaks and his squeals.

Joel blessed the soundproof barrier when they came. He uttered his usual series of grunts and moans as his balls shuddered and wad after wad of cum shot from his prick. But she issued a wail so high-pitched when her loins exploded that Joel was afraid it would attract banshees, bats, or the airport police.

Captain Beight released the titanium pin and it slipped out of him and clattered to the decking. She held him loosely, still riding high on his hard cock. They had time to catch their breath and calm their racing hearts before it started to deflate, gently lowering her to the floor. She put her legs down as she slipped off him and planted a kiss on his cheek before stepping back.

"Bet you don't get that kind of service from Army transport." She smirked as she retrieved her flight suit.

"Actually," Joel began, "there was this one time, when I was in the Army Cadets ..." but the sound of beeping interrupted him. The co-pilot pulled a blackberry out of one of the flight suit's many pockets and looked at the screen.

"Oh, good. Your boss has authorized the extension. Looks like we're good to go when the weather breaks." She pulled the bar out from behind him, freeing his arms.

"He did? I mean, sure he did. Was there ever any doubt?" But the muskrat wasn't listening. She was busy retrieving the items she had used on Joel, wiping them off and stowing them before the rest of crew came back.

"There's a washroom over there where you can wipe yourself off and rinse off your cute little butt Hun." She gestured with one paw absently. "I hear that you are going to be the only passenger on the return journey."

"Yeah, that's right." Joel wondered why she asked.

"I'll be due for a break from the controls around that time." She said casualty.

"Oh, really?" He raised his brows.

"We've got some medical equipment on board that we were supposed to be delivering to the UN mission in Darfur, before we were rerouted to this mission that is. Tables with straps for operating without anaesthetic, rubber surgical hoses, enema bags ..."

"Stop, just stop." He said, holding up a paw to silence her. "You had me at medical equipment"

* * * * * * * *

Vikki had spent the night strapped to a display board at a forty-five degree angle. She had tried to work free of her bonds but they were too tight. She gave up in order to conserve her strength for whatever was to come next.

The rest of the night was spent running various scenarios through her head. What to do if she could get her paw on a gun, a knife, or a nice pointy pencil. Would it be better to kill whoever showed up to escort her if she got the chance or play along until she learned more about the situation? Each mission was different, and you had to go by instinct, even if that meant going against the odds, Silver had said. So far her instinct told her to rip that rubbery black beak off the platypus's face at the earliest opportunity and shove it so far up his ... she supposed that she might be a bit upset. She did the breathing exercises that Silver had taught her to calm and clear her mind.

Two otters came for her, but they did not release her. They merely wheeled the board she was tied to through the door and down the hall. After passing through a set of double doors they emerged onto a loading dock where a large van sat waiting. They adjusted the contraption so that Vikki was lying horizontal before rolling it into the back of the van. Then they locked the wheels in place and closed the cargo doors. The two otters got in the front and they were off.

Vikki could not see much. There were no windows in the back and she could only see a slice of stormy sky through the windshield at this angle. But she guessed that they were following the road back to the highway when she saw the hydro lines. She concentrated on estimating their speed and direction. If she could escape she would need to have a rough idea of where she was in order to find a phone quickly. She had to warn FOX about the flooding. Mostly, she had to make sure that Silver got their son out of the danger area before the deluge came.

She estimated that they were on the highway and half way to town when they turned east unexpectedly and began going uphill. Vikki could not remember a side road or a hill this far north of town. The slope was steep, and the sound of the tires indicated that they had left the paved road for a gravel one, but the van had not gone more than thirty or forty metres before it came to a halt. One of the otters came back and pulled a hood over her head. The other went around and opened the back doors.

They lifted the board she was tied to down and carried her along what sounded to her like a wooden walkway. They lowered her down, awkwardly because her destination was at a lower level than they were. A splash and a curse as the platform she was resting on tilted alarmingly corrected her estimate. They were on a dock, and they were putting her in a boat.

They finally managed to get her restraints into the boat and then they climbed in. An outboard engine roared to life and she felt her stomach lurch in protest as the boat sped away from the dock. There was no way she could guess speed or direction now. But she knew where she was. She was in the water park that Gaya-Dari had built for the enjoyment of the more aggressive members of his coalition. The hunting grounds.

The trip did not last more than fifteen minutes. She heard them cut the engine and then the boat lurched as the bow ground up on the shore. More splashes and curses followed as the otters had to wade alongside to lift her and her restraining board out. These two must have gotten too used to dry land, she supposed. They had the air of city dwellers about them, and probably only went in the water at the Young Mammals Christian Association pool.

The perturbed otters placed Vikki's board flat on the ground. One of them laid something on her abdomen and squeezed a breast before leaving. The other pulled the hood from her head and left also. A moment later the sound of the boat sliding back into the water indicated that they were abandoning her here.

"Hey! Wait!" She called, but it was too late. The engine came to life and its pitch increased as they cranked it up to full power. The sound began to fade immediately as they sped away. They wouldn't just leave her here, would they? Tilting her head back she saw the boat disappear into the rain. I guess they would.

Vikki looked down along her torso. A brown leather strap was laying across her abdomen, holding down a folded plastic bag. The strap was the same as those that held her to the board, and she realized that they must have undone one of the ones on her good arm. Pulling hard she felt the strap around her wrist and forearm slip. Encouraged, she pulled harder and had her arm free in an instant. Less than a minute later she rolled off the board and stood up to survey her location.

It was almost an island about ten metres across, with some bushes in the middle and two trails leading connecting it to other nodes that she could barely make out through the rain. Other than the scar left by the boat and the tracks of the otters, there was no sign that any other creature had been here recently. Vikki spied the plastic bag and bent to retrieve it.

Opening envelopes with one paw was difficult, and the sealed bag was slippery from the rain, but Vikki managed. Inside the bag she found a note in Bardo Gaya-Dari's elegant script.

"Welcome to the hunting grounds." It read. "Having seen the aerial photos your colleagues kindly sent you will understand that the raised trails are a labyrinth, a maze for you to solve if you wish to reach terra firma again. Escape is possible, theoretically, but of course, there are a few hazards along the way; not the least of which will be young warriors hoping to make their first kill. Some of the previous prey choose to stay in place and wait for us to come to them, and that is no fun. So, as added incentive to get you moving, I have placed your robotic paw, still fully functional, on one of the nodes. Although I am rather occupied today, I will try to join you later, if you survive that long, that is."

He had signed it with little 'x's and 'o's and added a post script. "Corporal O'Malley lasted almost six hours; a new record. I'm betting you will break that record. Until we meet again, au revoir."

Vikki looked around her. She had nothing but the loose robe she wore, the straps from the restraints and one small plastic bag. That and whatever she found along her way. The robe was thin papery material, the disposable kind they gave hospital patients. Her bare fur would probably blend in with the surrounding better and the robe was no protection from the elements anyway. It was already coming apart at the seams in the rain. Vikki slipped it off, balled it up and stuck it under a bush.

But the straps were made of thick, sturdy leather, and they had strong brass buckles. She unthreaded them from the board and linked them together. She slung the straps around her neck, across her chest, and around her waist and loins before cinching them tight; not from modesty or any hope of warmth, just so they would not get caught up on a branch at a critical moment. When she was done they followed the curves of her tall, elegant frame, crossed between her breasts, circled her thighs to each side of her sex and buckled up under her tail. It was more comfortable than she had anticipated.

Vikki tucked the small bag under the belt and, looking like a warrior princess from some teen-aged males fantasy, set out to find her bionic paw.

* * * * * * * *

"Need a paw?" The familiar voice startled Kain Algorath out of the fugue state that he had worked himself into. Looking up, he saw Bill Hanlan slipping into the chair beside him.

"Hey Professor. I thought that you and the missus wouldn't be back for another two days." Kain shifted over to give Bill more room at the main computer console. He was happy to see the older grey fox back because the Professor, as he was known at FOX, was an expert at compiling and analysing data. Now Kain could concentrate on hacking the Project's control system.

"I received the recall notice issued by the Chief of Staff. I was surprised to find it was from Silver. You are going to have fill me in on what has happened once we get the chance. But for now, just bring me up to speed on the current mission."

Kain quickly obliged, finishing with Silver's direction to find the safest place to send all the water.

"Where is Silver now?" Bill asked.

"He is still on the Hill." Kain replied, referring to the complex of offices that surrounded the legislature on Parliament Hill. "He keeps running from there to the American Embassy on Sussex Drive. He's having a hard time convincing the bureaucrats that there is a threat. We're forwarding the results as soon as Geno can compile them but she's more of a tactical analyst. We really need your expertise here."

"Then let me see what I can do." The Professor turned to the double monitor and started flipping through the open files. "Eh heh. Yep. Over with the rest you go." He started mumbling to himself and immediately forgot about Kain Algorath.

The rest of the world faded out for Kain as well once he could concentrate completely on breaking into the platypus' control system. It had elaborate and robust security, but Kain came up with an elegant solution. Instead of attacking the system's core, he followed the same protocol they had used, and hacked into all the other utilities they had taken control of. Once he was inside them, he could work backwards, sending his worms to the central processor through the feedback signals that it used to confirm their commands.

Kain had lost all track of time and was completely focused on the screen of his laptop, until a sandwich landed on the keyboard. It was wrapped in plastic, so there was no damage to the computer, but it startled him into an angry outburst none the less.

"You're going to have to do better than that if you want to compete with Marcel's outbursts." Geno addressed him dryly. "You missed breakfast and it looks like you're going to miss lunch too. Eat quick," she said gesturing to the sandwich, "we have the morning staff meeting in five minutes. As the Duty Officer of record you get to chair it in the Chief of Staff's Absence." With a flick of her spotted tail she turned and strode off toward the briefing room.

Kain made a note of his progress and was pleased to see that his worms had successfully copied his code into the Project's central processor. He had his backdoor, but one so obvious he could only use it once. Shoving the last of the sandwich in his maw with one paw, he typed out the command that would insert the data bomb. Once they acted, dealing with the data bomb would ensure that the technicians at the other end did not simply reverse his commands. By the time they were back in control it would be too late, hopefully. Kain pressed 'enter' and sent the bomb in, there to sleep like a kraken in the deep until awaked.

In the briefing room the normally calm Bill Hanlan was more excited than Kain had ever seen him

"I've calculated how and where we can redirect the water, but we have to act now." The Professor began, as a map of North America filled the screen. The program Kain had shown Silver earlier was running again. "From what we have so far we know that everything is going to happen around eight o'clock tomorrow morning." The blue began to spread over the map just as a clock labelled 'EST' that was superimposed over Alaska read "08:00". By the time it read "12:00" most of the Midwest and the Great Lakes region was affected.

"But we can't simply redirect it at the last minute." Hanlan continued. "There's already enough water in the final approaches, combined with what Eunice is still brining down, to make some flooding inevitable. But the longer we wait the worse it will be. Even another two hours will cost us a number mid-sized cities. Watch." Bill fed new data into the program and a new clock appeared beside the first. The topography was replaced by a population density map, with white points of light in various intensities representing the cities.

With the new clock fixed at eleven am eastern standard time most of the blue spread into the darker areas of the population map, where there were few residents and fewer industries. As the Professor advanced the clock to noon, and then one pm, the blue blob shifted toward a line of bright lights that must represent the cities along the major rivers. The one that represented Ottawa was covered in blue even before the noon scenario. Bill Hanlon noticed where Kain was looking and commented.

"The program does that automatically. It will allow Ottawa to be flooded before Montreal. It's one quarter of the population and has nowhere near the financial or industrial base that Montreal does. But if hurry Ottawa will be fine. If we hurry. It's already ten thirty-seven and it will take at least fifteen minutes to feed all the data into the control system before executing the commands."

"I can't make this decision." Kain said, panic rising in him. "We have to get hold of Silver or Gold."

"Gold is in an emergency session of the Security Committee of the Privy Council." Geno injected. She had been monitoring the duty officer's log in order to free Kain for hacking. "And Silver is in a meeting with the CIA at their safe house. No phones, blackberries, cameras or anything else electronic allowed in either place. They are out of contact and that puts you in the driver's seat. It's up to you to decide."

"I don't have that kind of authority."

"Legally, you do." Geno pointed out. "The charter gives the Director and the Chief of Staff the authority to act in cases of national interest where grave damage would be done otherwise. And the Duty Officer is required to act on their last orders if they are out of contact. I looked it up."

"But ... but ... Bill, you've been here longer than me. You have seniority." Kain looked to the grey fox desperately.

"We're both junior staff officers, Kain," he said sternly, "and you are still officially the Duty Officer. It is your decision." Then Bill's features softened. "But I'll give you all the help I can, and I'll stand behind you whatever you decide."

"Then, I suppose ..."

"Wait." Geno's voice cut him off. "There is another complication. Show him Bill."

Kain gave the Professor a puzzled look, and the grey fox sighed. "Watch the screen." He said.

Up on the wall the scene shifted and enlarged. Soon a large black area, a region sparsely inhabited, filled the screen. Only one dim light shone in the middle of it. The implementation clock was set to eleven am again, and the effect clock started to run. Almost immediately the blue stain spread from the river to the west and filled the blank area to the north. Then it leaked to the south and started surrounding the town. By eight in the morning the town was an isolated light with a thin black border surrounded by blue.

"So what? The town is saved and the citizens just have to hold on for a couple of days until the water subsides." Kain was still puzzled. Geno reached past Bill for the keyboard and changed the view back to the Topographic map. The town's outline and major roads were visible, and it was labelled "Prince Albert". Then two small red dots appeared on the map about ten and twenty kilometres north of the town respectively. She started the simulation again.

"That is the town Vikki and Dongo were sent to." She said calmly as the blue spread around the town. "Those red dots are their last known locations." The markers disappeared, covered by the blue tide by the time she finished speaking. "Vikki was at the Project headquarters complex. Dongo was on the highway headed in that direction. But both areas are going to under ten metres of water if we implement the recommended changes."

"The only alternative is to let the water go past by allowing it to follow the river." Bill Hanlan said as he stared down at his paws. "But that means wiping the town of Prince Albert off the map, and several others further downstream."

Kain felt numbness come over him. Two agents or forty thousand unsuspecting citizens. The agents may be dead already, probably were. But they were two of the few people that he thought of as friends. He looked at his watch, it was eleven forty-two, there was barely enough time to save anyone. The options were two agents, or the citizens they had sworn to lay their lives down to protect.

The choice seemed simple enough, but it was still incredibly hard to put it in words. He was out of his depth. He wished that Silver would stride in the door and take over, or that Gold would call in and make the decision for him. He wanted to wait for one of them to contact the academy, but he knew that he could not. Silver's last order had been explicit - consult if possible, but when it was time to act, do so. Wait for no one.

"Start transferring the data." He said to Hanlan. "The link through the backdoor has been established. I'll be in by the time you're done to execute ... to initiate the command to override the system. Then I'll set off the data bomb."

Hanlan hurried from the briefing room. Geno came to sit beside Kain. She put a paw on his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. "I'll send the emergency recall notice out." She told him. "We'll get the plane to turn around and bring Marcel and Joel back. You did the right thing, Kain."

"Just give me a couple of minutes to myself, okay?" He asked her. She nodded sadly and got up to leave. At the door she paused, and spoke without looking back.

"She would be happy that her son and his father are safe. It's the best you could do." When he did not respond she lowered her head and went out the door.

Is it the best I can do, he wondered, the best anyone could do? He sat for a few more minutes, watching the area around Prince Albert flood again and again as the program repeated itself. First the red dots were there, and then they were gone. There, gone, there, gone. He got up and left the room, walking to his workstation in a fog. He sat down and waited for the green light that would indicate Hanlan's data had been received. The button to start the commands was already selected.

Kain lifted his paw, paused for an instant that seemed to last forever. Forgive me Vikki. Forgive me Dongo. He dropped his paw down on the enter key. _ Forgive me Silver_.