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As one of the Siamese cats silently bandaged the bruises on my lip and under my left eye, the Doberman--who clarified his name was Blu--calmed me down enough to explain their actions. Or, at the very least, explain them to me in a way that made sense.

Yes, I had actually been captured by the Defiant's Peoria, IL branch, by complete accident. Years ago, the cell had managed to acquire an entire crate of Archangel uniforms from a government train they robbed back in 2012, using the stolen weapons and supplies to arm themselves to the teeth. As for the uniforms, they gave them away to various cells (excluding Johanna's branch in Chicago for some reason) in different states; Defiant members like Blu would dress up as Archangels and use their intimidating appearance to either scout an area during the nighttime, or pretend to be an Archangel during events like the protest so they could extract one of their own without gaining the attention of law enforcement.

"Surprisingly, cops would rather piss themselves than interfere with an arrest made by Archangels," Blu explained further. "Me and Jack were keeping an eye out for potential recruits for the cause when we ran into you. Didn't even know you were already one of us until Johanna Cardinal asked Vox if we'd seen a tabby cat in the crowd."

"Vox?" I asked, wincing as a bandage was placed on the corner of my lower lip. "As in Vox the Fox? The communist rebel?"

"Our leader," the cat tending me murmured. I hadn't even noticed his brother leave the room, likely going to do something important or speak to 'Vox'.

"Anyway," Blu continued, awkwardly folding an ear in visible embarrassment, "while this was going on, Vox still wanted to have you go through the initiation. Figure out if you were protesting because you wanted to rebel, or if you were just another coward. Even knowing you were a Defiant, Vox still wanted to test you. See if you'd sell us out if it were real..."

"Did...Did she approve?" I asked, then clarified, "Johanna?"

"Not really," he shrugged inanely. "Vox ordered me to go ahead with doing this schtick by the time he and Cardinal started arguing about it. Still had to follow orders though, ya know?"

No, I didn't know. In some sense, I did, but I doubted anybody could blame me for feeling slightly angry at my 'saviors' for putting me through Hell. Granted, I only sustained some bruises and a cut during their so-called 'test of loyalty', except even Lowell of all furs would be the first to say...say...

I gasped, "Lowell..."

"Hm?" Blu tilted his head.

"Lowell uh..." I stalled, cursing myself for not pressing the gray wolf for something other than a stupid mononym. "Lowell, my friend. The wolf I was with at the protest. Uh, he's got yellow eyes, tends to swear a lot..."

"Oh, you mean THAT Lowell," he chuckled lightly. "Yeah, he's safe. Managed to escape from the protest and hide out. I'm telling you, if Johanna's done cussing out Vox about you going through the test, I'm pretty sure the mutt's doing the rest for her as we speak..."

I exhaled, feeling the sudden worry levitate from my tired shoulders. "Good. Thank God..."

The Siamese cat--who I would later learn was named Luke, while his twin brother went by Lee--had finished putting his bandages away in the medical kit beside him and helped me up from the chair. Without so much as a word, he nodded and left us in the room.

"So...where are we?" I tentatively asked. "Are we in a Maverick?"

"Nah," he shook his muzzle, "Not exactly, kiddo. It's actually an old Buy-Mart."

He led me out of the tiled room, a meat locker that no longer held any meat or subarctic temperatures, into what I could only describe as a ransacked, dusty kitchen. One section looked relatively clean, but the rest of the metal cabinets, carts of disinfectant and even countertops near the end of the row looked more neglected than the ones back at the abandoned neighborhood that me, Lowell and the Langes camped out in. Before I could ask what Blu meant by it being an 'old Buy-Mart', he led me through a pair of traffic doors that swung open with the grace of an old barnyard entrance.

We suddenly found ourselves near the far end of a long, rectangular cavern made of concrete, broken glass and a cracked tile floor. Blu turned on his flashlight and led the way through the darkness, occasionally pointing his torch here and there along the far walls.

Near the right end of what I assumed to be the front entrance, underneath some layers of years-old graffiti were boarded up windows and the sliding doors. Dusty fluorescent lights hung in rows along the ceiling, but one glance upward and downward made me realize where most of the glass originated. Luckily, I had some protective shoes on already as Blu led me deeper into the derelict salesfloor, now devoid of shelving, endcaps or islands selling merchandise.

(My parents once had me working part-time for a Buy-Mart outside of my neighborhood during the summer of my senior year. Three of the dullest months of my life. If it weren't for Blu clarifying that the store was outside of Chicago's city limits, I likely would have guessed this to be the same location.)

It seemed like everything had been stripped from the floor. Leaving an empty husk.

"Back in the day, Vox used a shell company to buy off this place once Buy-Mart realized it was a terrible idea to build another store several miles away. Now, we use this as a way station of sorts. Our base-of-operations between Chicago and Peoria whenever Johanna and Vox do joint operations together."

"A-And nobody notices?" I asked, curious.

"It's out in the countryside, so no," he replied curtly, a noticeable smile visible on his muzzle, "That doesn't mean we can't be too careful though. Archangels are always trying to find our hideaways. Know what I'm saying?"

I couldn't help but nod, despite my fur still standing on end, warily waiting for the nightmare from before to return. Except, it didn't. "Y-Yeah...I think I do...""

An awkward silence hung over us. He felt it too, my hesitation to exchange conversation.

"So what day is it?" I tried to continue.

"July 11th. You were out for a day and a half before we brought you here."

"Oh. Okay..." My eyes traveled to the wall and noticed some rays of light peek through some of the miniscule holes. "What time is it?"

He checked his watch. "Half past six..."

"O-Okay..."

Blu suddenly stopped, looking down at the ground. "Wait."

I stopped, perking my ears to watch the Doberman scratch the back of his head.

"Listen, I might as well get this outta the way right now," he sighed, looking embarrassed under the soft glow of his flashlight. "I'm really, really sorry for doing all of that to you. Back there."

I waved my paws, "That's okay--"

"No, it's not," he interrupted. "Vox ordered me to do it, but that didn't mean I wanted to do it." The tall canine stepped forward and leaned his head forward slightly. "Hit me."

"Huh?" I gawked. "Excuse me, what--"

"Here's your free shot," he offered, smiling momentarily before tensing with closed eyes. "C'mon, you deserve it after what I put you through, right?"

I waved my paws. "I-I don't know about--"

"Just do it," he insisted, then switched to the intimidating voice used just an hour ago. The same one that shook me to my very core. "Do it now!"

Something odd, yet familiar took me over. My right paw clenched into an instinctual fist, then suddenly lunged right into the Doberman's left cheek. He staggered back a few steps, groaning and clamping a paw onto the impact zone.

The haze disappeared as fast as it appeared.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry, Blu. You--"

"Heh, not bad." Blu straightened back up. Wincing only once when he touched the cheek, the Doberman pointed his flashlight at me. "Your punch needs some work, but it's not too shabby...Now c'mon, let's get going before Vox comes looking for us first."

I looked perplexingly at the Doberman, still unsure at first.

"Hey now, don't worry about me, okay?" he chuckled, patting my back (thank God the darkness hid my growing blush) as we walked. "I'm fine."

The tension now broken, Blu led us to the back of the store until we entered a long corridor that obviously had seen better days, then into an adjacent room filled with light. The first figure standing inside was one of the Siamese cat twins, followed by his brother watching behind him. They leaned against a beige countertop along the wall, which looped along the back until it came to a small kitchenette painted the same ugly color. Aside from a big metal table that did not belong there, as well as some backpacks resting next to recently used sleeping bags, the only fixtures remaining in the room were the dull overhead lights embedded into the Styrofoam ceiling.

This has to be the break room, I surmised in thought. Once my eyes fell on the hunched figure stirring something in a pot by the stove, a chill ran up my spine. That's him...that's...

"Commander," Blu spoke, "he passed the test."

Vox the Fox. His real name was Vincent Yardley, a former university professor in Texas who retired not long before America became Devout. Ever since 1997, the swift fox did not meet my expectations. Granted, he was indeed old, but contrary to the images shown of Vox by the state-controlled media, it seemed age had been gradually kind to him. In fact, his hunch almost disappeared as soon as he turned to face me across the counter.

He didn't wear his iconic squared shades, revealing two heterochromia eye colors usually hidden underneath the reflective black glasses; his right shone in light blue similar to the ocean, while his left auburn eye raised itself down at me, judging me over.

"Uh, h-hello sir."

"Quit stutterin' like that, kiddo." He barked in a noticeable Southern drawl that did not decrease his intimidating frown, "Be confident, sonny. You're a Defiant, so act like it!"

My muscles tensed, as if he were a drill sergeant and I a cadet. "Yessir."

"I must say this: I certainly did not expect you to have the balls to stare Death in the eye," the elder canine grinned from ear to greying ear. "Back there, you were ready to face down the end of a bullet without little hesitation. I like that, though it's a pity you have the body of a twig and the instinct of a critter...Now then," he cleared his throat and returned to his pot to stir it, his back to us as he continued, "before I get you patched in with Cardinal, you got any questions the need to be asked?"

A beat of awkward silence.

"Well?" he asked impatiently, still stirring the pot, "Do you got any or not?"

Glancing around the room, I finally decided to query, "Whe-Where's everyone else, s-sir?"

He punched into the laminate counter beside the stove, practically growling like a truck as he said, "I told you to act like a Defiant, son!"

"W-What the--" To save myself another bark from the crazed vulpine, I cleared my throat. "Where's everybody else, sir?"

"Besides Blu and the twins, we're all that's here for now," Vox replied in a voice that switched between proud and melancholy. He started turning off the stovetop and placing the pot's contents into a plastic bowl as he explained, "The rest of the pack are back at the Maverick in Peoria, plannin' and schemin' the next big fight against the Christofascists! We should get another soldier or two here willin' to fight before then, so don't you worry your tail off about our competence, sonny."

My ears fell downward, "I-I wasn't implying that you were!"

"Wasn't suggestin' you were," he scoffed, then jabbed a fork into his bowl of...instant ramen. Huh? "By the way, good to know you passed, regardless of your allegiance. I would've hated to put a bullet in your brain. Waste of time and space around here. The smell too. Ugh."

The next words somehow found their way through my mental filter, and I absentmindedly spoke, "Thank God Johanna isn't that extreme."

"Of course, she isn't," he scoffed. "She doesn't need to test your allegiance. Archangels like her were trained to weed out the traitors from the tin men!" Vox the Fox then looked right at the Doberman beside me, "Now Blu, can you get me the damn laptop? I think Cardinal's wettin' herself with worry enough at this point..."

"Yes sir," Blu promptly strolled to the back end of the room and pulled a rectangular case from one of the built-in closets. Once he set it down, the Doberman groaned while looking down at his Archangel uniform. "Sir, I'd like permission to get--"

"Granted," he interrupted, waving a paw as he pulled a laptop from the case, then flipped it open. "Jesus, seein' you in that is giving me flashbacks, Blu..."

The Doberman silently nodded and left the break room, leaving me and Vox the Fox. Alone (aside from the silent Siamese cat doing something in the corner), and booting up a laptop that I only now noticed possessed an uncovered webcam.

"Vox, sir," I spoke up, concerned about what he was doing. "Is the wi-fi, like, protected?"

"Nah," he shook his grey-furred muzzle, making my tail curl in immediate alarm, then instantly relax, "but don't you worry. This old thing doesn't access the normal web, kiddo. It accesses the Deep Web."

In dumb confusion, I echoed his words, "The Deep Web?"

"Correct, sonny," Vox slurped up some of his ramen noodles before setting the fork down and typing on the keyboard. "How else do you think we keep in contact with other cells? Carrier pigeons? Then again, it would beat the cruddy wi-fi inside here..."

Vox laughed shortly as he started typing onto the laptop once it booted up.

I knew very little about what Vox meant by 'The Deep Web', but kept my maw shut. The last thing I wanted now was to sound incompetent in front of someone like Vox the Fox. Plus, my limbs practically trembled in delight at the thought of hearing Johanna (and hopefully Lowell) again. Anything to confirm I was not inside of some lucky fever dream.

Looking over the swift fox's hunched shoulder, I tried my best not to make my watchful gaze that obvious, though given his background and experience, part of me knew better than to assume he didn't notice.

Minutes later, Vox opened a tab on some plain, unmarked webpage. He typed in a long line of numbers and then hit 'Enter'. Then, a new tab appeared and filled up the entire screen to reveal the glitching form of someone sitting behind a well-lit desk.

"Goddamn it Vox, I swear if you don't get me--" Johanna Cardinal narrowed her cervine eyes onscreen, then visibly relaxed into her seat. "Adam! Adam! Thank God you're alright!"

"Johanna!" Her relief seeped through the laptop to me, causing the tension in my muscles and raised tail to disperse. So, it wasn't a lucid dream, after all. "Johanna, it's good to see you!"

"Adam!" a familiar male voice echoed from a hallway onscreen, "Johanna, is that Adam?" Suddenly, that relief turned into elation and respite as Lowell scooted his way beside Johanna so he and the annoyed/amused doe could appear together. The wolf's headfur looked matted and his eyes contained heavy bags under them. "Adam, is that really you?"

"Who else do I look like, you guys?" I laughed in relief, leaning closer to the screen as Vox politely allowed me some room. "I-I cannot tell you how worried I was about you, Lowell!"

"You shouldn't have worried," he chuckled, still grinning like a wolfish idiot. Then, his eyes stared blankly until they widened in anger. Lowell snarled, "Question, how the fuck did you get that bruise?"

Specifically, he meant the one on my cheek. He probably did not know of the ones across my chest.

It did not take much for Lowell to quickly figure it out, it seemed. "I'm gonna kill him."

"Lowell!" Johanna chastised him, though she too seemed as agitated. "He does not mean that Vox."

"Oh, I believe I meant it," he growled with his fangs visible onscreen, much to me and Johanna's collective horror. Well, more frustration than horror. "I cannot believe you'd actually 'prove' his loyalty like that! Vox, you two-faced fox fucker, if we ever meet, I'm gonna--"

"Wait 'til after the Revolution, kiddo," Vox waved him off dismissively. "Anyway, I do not want to postpone this call for any longer. Can we move along, Johanna?"

"Fine," she sighed, scowling at Lowell beside her and then at Vox, "but you and I will be having a discussion later."

"Debriefin' now, discussin' later."

Finally, Johanna calmed Lowell enough for them to explain to me what had been occurring since the Army Recruitment Center Massacre--or rather, the 'Communist-supported riot', according to FaithTV, the JIS Network and even those who used Prayer Post online.

To make a long story short, there were over a hundred injured and dozens killed, but thanks to Lowell's photography, none of them would ever be forgotten. After escaping from the crowd of fleeing bystanders (even helping a few furs escape to their vehicles in order to avoid arrest), Lowell spent a good two hours risking his neck to search aimlessly for me around the surrounding neighborhoods. He was convinced I had been captured, or worse. When he couldn't find me anywhere, he went back to the abandoned house and contacted Johanna, who ordered him and the Langes back to the Maverick.

The Langes acclimated well into the hotel, but much like the wolf, they worried for my safety. Luckily though, the Defiant's Peoria cell found me before anybody else. The rest was history, and now with the photographs being developed, the Defiant could get the news about the massacre to the outside world via the 'Deep Web'. The Western Republic, the European Union, NATO and countless other nations could know the true depravity of how Devout America directly responded to activism.

"Regardless of the mission's success," Johanna stared at me, "I'm very disappointed in you for getting lost during all that chaos, Adam. Frankly, it's a goddamn miracle that Vox's men stumbled on you in the first place. That first day you were gone, I...we..." She cleared her throat, scratching one of her ears. "Still, I am proud of you."

My eyes could not have widened any further. "Really?"

"Really?" Lowell voiced my same thoughts.

She nodded, smiling. "I am very proud of you for not giving in during the test, had Vox and his crew actually been Archangels. You did an excellent job, Adam. As a Defiant and a soldier. You...really proved yourself to be one of us."

I could not help but choke up slightly but composed myself. My tail would not stop wagging, no matter how much I willed it to calm down. "T-Thank you, ma'am."

"That does not mean you're off the hook though, Vox!" she glared at the swift fox with unyielding disdain. "I will speak with you later, got it?"

"Sure thing," he chuckled beside me, "though what is there to lecture about?"

"Regardless, I am sorry we cannot do much now, Adam," she continued, "As much as I want Vox to ship you over here, we cannot risk anybody else getting arrested. They have begun to set up further checkpoints outside of large cities, including Chicago. However, we do have one window of opportunity, and that is Operation Blackjack. Vox will debrief you on it when we are ready, but until we are ready, you will have to stay a month with them at the site. Do not get bored, that is an order."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good," she leaned into her chair, "I will be signing off now, but expect another call soon. Especially you, Vox."

Next to her, Lowell was muttering with his arms crossed, "Fuck-faced, Communist bastard--"

"Lowell!" She stared crossed at him, then to Vox. Then to me, relaxing her stare into a relieved gaze. "You take care, Adam. Good luck over there and stay safe. That's an order."

"Thank you, ma'am." I smiled, then felt my heart race as I said, "Good night, Lowell. I...I'm really glad you're okay..."

His anger melted somewhat into a momentary grin, directed at me. "You too, Adam. You too..." the wolf almost said something, then paused before ending the call with, "See you soon, bud."

I half-expected him to mumble something along the lines of 'I love you' or something, but maybe that was just my imagination. "You too, Lowell...Bye..."

The screen went static soon after.

"Now then," Vox casually closed the laptop and stuck his fork again into the cooled ramen noodles, "As long as you're goin' to be under my care, Grimwald, tell me what you can do. Got anything useful for us?"

Vox proceeded to eat his ramen as I sheepishly explained to him and Blu--who returned wearing some jeans and an oversized flannel shirt, still keeping the boots he wore from before--what I learned from the Chicago cell. Thanks to Abigail's expertise and small training, I knew how to heal some wounds, how to sew a wound, keep it from infecting and such. Vox clearly wasn't impressed, especially when I told him I knew very little fighting.

"So, you're useless then. Well, it's better than nothing..." Vox mumbled before putting on his glasses. "Blu, teach him how to fight while I go outside and do a perimeter sweep. Train him good and hard. We'll need all the help we can get on the big mission next month. And sonny," the swift fox patted my shoulder, "as your temporary commander, I order you to do everything that Blu tells you to. If he tells you to walk on coals, do it. Do I make myself clear?"

I gulped. "Yes sir."