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This is a work of fiction. The story contains adulty themes and images and should only be viewed by those 18 years or older.

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MIND GAMES - pt. 3

The morning disappeared quickly, blurred by a seeming endless sorting and form filling. Saul normally saved this part of the work for late afternoons, but with Pepper gone for the day, he decided to get ahead of his workload, as if such a thing were possible. Cooper, it turned out, was quite a skilled writer and breezed his way through the case reports in only a couple of hours. Checking over his work, Saul nodded in satisfaction, correcting only one or two items in each report where the rookie had gotten the chronology wrong.

Saul looked up at the clock. It was nearly half past noon. He turned toward Cooper. "What say we Ten-Seven at Rosie's."

The otter looked up from where he was working. "What?"

Saul raised one eyebrow at the rookie. "You know, Lunch!"

"Sure," Cooper responded enthusiastically. "I'm hungry enough to eat a horse,"

The human chuckled. "Don't say that too loud. Deputy Chief Striker might take it personally."

"I can understand why."

"Oh, and by the way," Blackthorne added, "Rookies buy."

"Since when?"

"It's an ancient and long standing tradition... rookie."

The two detectives crossed the street. Halfway there, Cooper started patting his pockets. "Shit!"

"What's wrong?" Saul asked.

"Forgot my wallet. It's in my jacket in the squad room." He looked down the street at the café entrance. "Why don't you go on and get us a seat. I'll see you inside in about five."

"Sure," replied the detective.

The otter dashed back the way they had come. Saul waited a moment or two then dialed a number on his cell. A gruff voice answered. "Central Sheriff's Station, Deputy Norris."

"Max, it's Blackthorne. Could you Ten Fifty-Nine that newbie when he comes in and let me know what he does?"

"Sure thing. Call you right back." The phone went silent and Saul walked the rest of the way to the café, taking a high-backed booth in the rear. Max called ten minutes later. Two minutes after that, Cooper arrived and slid into his seat.

"So... What's good here?" the otter asked, smiling. Saul didn't answer him immediately as he sized up the deputy. The silence began to make him nervous. "Was it something I said?" Instead of answering the big human simply reached across and pulled a button off the deputy's shirt pocket. "HEY!"

Saul held the button up to his mouth. "I need a little private time with the deputy here, if you don't mind. Oh! You might want to take your earphones off." Placing it between his thumb and forefinger he deftly snapped it in half. He looked across at the otter again, keeping his voice low. "Which is it? FBI? ATF? Secret Service? If it's CIA you're in a world of shit. Domestic spying is still against the law. Oh, and by the way, I want to see both hands on the table, now or I break your kneecap."

The deputy cautiously placed both his hands on the table in front of him. "How did you know I was wired?" he whispered.

"Whoever sewed your button on was an anthrop." Saul said. "They used a slightly different shade of tan thread. As advanced as you are, humans still kick ass when it comes to visual acuity."

"And the rest?"

"Maybe later. What's your interest in the Bellows Case?"

"What do you mean?"

Saul locked eyes with Cooper. One of the deputies watched you access my case files in the squad room while you were purportedly looking for your wallet. So I repeat. What's your interest in my case?"

"I can't say."

"Can't or won't?" The otter remained silent. "Look, you're obviously not a street cop, but you are involved in enforcing the law. If you know something that would help our case you should be professional enough to fill me in."

"It's an issue of national security. You don't have a need to know."

"Fuck, this need to know crap," Saul rumbled. "We've got nine suicides in the last eight months, all with a similar M.O. and all highly suspicious. That's nine dead women and I want to know why."

"Fourteen," said a quiet voice. Saul looked up sharply. A tall male German shepherd was standing next to their table. He was dressed in a simple, slate-gray business suit and white shirt with a red tie. The clothes practically screamed Fed. "Mind if I join you?" He slid into the booth without waiting for a reply.

"And you are?"

"Major Dean Kaplan, Army Intelligence. You already know Lieutenant Cooper, Naval Investigative Service. We are both attached to the D.I.A."

"The what?"

"Defense Intelligence Agency," the otter explained. He looked over at his supervisor. "Should we be involving Detective Blackthorne, Sir?"

Kaplan nodded. "He already has a handle on the local case. That and the boss says he's trustworthy." The major looked over at Saul. "You do understand that anything you learn from or about us must remain classified.

"I understand," Saul replied. "But you need to understand I will not destroy evidence or assist in any kind of dirty governmental cover-up."

Kaplan focused on Blackthorne. "Agreed." Reaching into his shirt pocket, he pulled out a small disk about the size of a large bottle cap. He looked up at the detective. "You might want to lean in a little." Saul complied and watched as the major pressed the button in its center. The noise of the café faded to a muffled din.

The human looked at the device. "What the hell is that?"

"It's called a scrambler." Cooper explained. "No one outside a two foot radius can hear what we're saying."

"You should market that thing," Saul said. "I've got some neighbors who should be wearing them around their necks." Neither fur smiled. The detective quietly wondered what it was with feds and humor. Everything was dead serious with them.

"Do you remember the security breech at the Pentagon about three years ago?" the canine asked.

Saul nodded. "I remember you had half the federal enforcement community working that one. Took you guys about four months to nail the hacker, right?"

"Yes," the canine replied. "Unfortunately we didn't find him fast enough to prevent him from passing on some of his data to others, for a substantial reward."

"We tracked his buyers and managed to retrieve the data before it could be further distributed, or so we thought," Cooper added. "Unfortunately, we missed with one of them. It wasn't until we did a complete systems check on each buyer that we found one of them had been hacked himself."

"What did this new hacker get?"

"Useless stuff for the most part. Computer programs that were fifty to seventy years out of date, old strategic plans for the war with China that never happened... Things like that."

"Except..."

The major wrinkled his nose. "Except... One program which was thought deleted, but may turn out to be a time bomb in disguise."

"Did this program have a name?" Saul asked.

Cooper looked over at his boss. Kaplan nodded. "STROMBOLI," the otter replied.

Blackthorne looked across at the two furs, anger etching itself across his face. "I assume that is not a reference to the volcano off the coast of Italy."

"Unfortunately, no."

A long string of pieces suddenly slid into place. The similarity between the suicides, the girls' pattern of behavior, Tara Bellows pleas to "let me go..." Pepper had been right. They had all been controlled, all driven to their deaths by some sick bastard on a power trip.

"You goddamn sonofabitch! How long?"

"We believe the program's been in use for about a year and a half."

"NO! DAMNIT! How long have you had these... puppet plugs inserted in the anthrop population, and who knew?"

"The ARMY installed them in the last few batches of soldiers they created fifty-eight years ago," Kaplan replied. "The plugs, as you call them, are a kind of genetic, organic circuitry, and can be passed on through breeding, though how mutation would affect them is uncertain. We estimate about 35 to 40 percent of the anthrop population now has them."

"As to who knew, well no one did," Cooper asserted. "The programmers, generals and geneticists who created this nightmare are all dead, and the material relating to it was thought destroyed, at least until the Pentagon was hacked."

"And now the Feds want this particular genie back in the bottle, right?"

"Wrong," Kaplan said. "They want it and the bottle destroyed. That's why our investigation team is made up entirely of anthrops. None of us want this thing loose. You're the only human we've taken into our confidence, aside from our boss that is."

"I'm flattered," Saul sarcastically responded. "You said something about fourteen earlier?"

"There have been five other cases which match the profile you and your partner set up," the otter said. "Three were in Los Angeles, one was in Seattle and another was in Las Vegas. We believe our suspect, whoever he is, was traveling during that time and only settled down in this area within the last twelve months."

"How and when did you latch onto his M.O.?"

"An FBI agent in Los Angeles filed a inquiry for one of his friends on the LAPD. That set off a daisy chain of reports that crossed our desks about two weeks ago. Before that we'd been working the hacker angle exclusively."

"Once we knew you and your partner were also working the case, we decided to place Cooper on the inside to find out what you had.," Kaplan said.

"Well, next time you decide to infiltrate a cop shack, try hiring a cop to do it. You guys may be hot stuff when it comes to military style investigating, but you know squat about a squad room."

"Point taken," the canine replied.

The human could have sworn he had almost smiled. "So where to from here?" Blackthorne asked

"What would you suggest? This is your turf after all."

"Nice of you to finally notice," the detective responded. "Okay, I want copies of everything you have on your five cases so we can do a comparative profile with ours. Second, I want a rundown on everyone even remotely connected with a place called Jigsaw Jim's over on Spring Street. Cover the last fourteen months just to be safe. Put a special emphasis on anyone who deals with computer or electronic systems."

Kaplan nodded. I can have what you want in about three hours. Where should we meet?"

"Back here," Saul replied. "Meanwhile Junior here and I will stake out Jigsaw Jim's and watch who comes and goes." He glanced over at the young otter. "After we find him a less conspicuous change of clothes."

* * * *

By four o'clock Pepper had finished all but one of her errands. It wasn't easy though. She felt as if she were going through an extremely intense 'heat' cycle, stronger than any she had experienced before. Normally, they were fairly easy to deal with. Modern medicine had provided anthrop women with a suppressant that lessened its effects, but today it wasn't working. Three times, the vixen had been forced to find a ladies' room where she could quietly masturbate to relieve the slowly building tension in her body. Each time she did, she momentarily felt as if she were walking through a dream, confused and frightened to find herself someplace other than where she should be. The feeling would fade quickly though, replaced by a calm sense of purpose that overrode all other considerations.

Strolling into the sheriff's station she waved her pass at Deputy Norris and headed for the squad room. She passed a dozen deputies on her way in. Most ignored her. Being human they could not smell the musk of her estrus. Two of them, both canines, not only noticed, but found themselves with raging hard-on as a result. They quickly retreated to the parking lot until the embarrassing effect wore off. Another who noticed was Captain Harris. Sniffing the scent, he looked up in time to see the vixen heading for the squad room.

"FIELDS!" She ignored him and continued into the room. Growling slightly, the badger stood and followed her. Entering the squad room he saw her sit down at a computer terminal and began typing. An anthrop service clerk working in the corner looked up, sniffed the air, saw the Captain standing at the door and quickly excused himself for a quick coffee break.

"SERGEANT FIELDS!" The vixen turned around in her chair and looked up at Harris.

"Yes sir?" she stoically replied.

The vacant look in her eyes threw the normally gruff anthrop off beat. "Are you feeling alright, sergeant? I thought you'd called in sick?"

"Yes, sir. I just wanted to clear some things off my file before the end of the day, sir."

"Well, you seem to have succeeded in clearing the squad room as well Are you taking your suppressants?"

She smiled sweetly. "Yes, sir, but they don't seem to be working too well. Perhaps I need a new prescription, sir."

"Well, if that's what you need, then finish up what you're doing here and get it done, BEFORE you have every anthrop male climbing the station walls." With that he hastily retreated from the room.

Working rapidly, Pepper deleted several files then went to her e-mail box. She found the message she was looking for and opened it. Fingers flying across the keyboard, she rapidly disabled the firewalls, linked to the station network and opened the attached file. Rising, the vixen went over to Saul's desk. There, she wrote out a quick note and sealed it in an envelope with his name and the word URGENT scrawled across the front. Dropping it on his desk, she scooped up her purse and exited the room. Curses and howls of frustration began following her as she left the station.

She headed home, walking because she only lived about a mile from work. She always enjoyed the exercise, and normally it would have taken her but fifteen minutes to cover the distance. Halfway there, however, she felt another hot flash building within her. Panting slightly, the vixen looked around then casually strolled into a small alley between a used furniture store and a mini mart. Turning a corner, she found an old, small couch pushed up against the back of the furniture store. Perfect! Smiling blankly she sat down, pulled her knee-length skirt up, spread her legs and began massaging her clit.

Once more she was imagining her human lover, dipping his tongue in and out of her sex, lapping at her juices as they flowed from her slit. She shuddered as she felt the orgasm building within her.

There was a sudden noise as a freight door opened next to her and a young human male stepped through. His back was to Pepper as he deposited several empty cans into the trash bin on the far side of the door. Turning, he suddenly froze at the sight of a beautiful vixen, legs spread and two fingers halfway up her snatch.

"M-M-M-Ma'am? Are... Are you all... alright?"

Smiling, Pepper stopped, raised her self to her knees and reached across the end of the couch to grasp the human by his belt. She pulled him easily towards her then began working the buckle on his belt.

The human, barely out of his teens, didn't resist, unable to quite believe what was happening. It was like something out of a porno flick he'd once seen. He was torn. Part of him wanted it to continue, part wanted her to stop. When she finally managed to undo his jeans and pulled them down, the former side won out.

Pepper's tongue licked the underside of the young man's rod, causing him to shiver and quickly stiffen. She lay back on the couch, pulling him down on top of her and wrapping her legs around his hips. Spread as she was, it was easy for the store clerk to penetrate her mound and hilt himself. The vixen moaned in pleasure and tightened the walls of her passage, even as the human began thrusting into her, slowly at first, then faster.

Pepper wrapped her arms around the clerk's torso. He could feel her heat as he continued to thrust powerfully in and out. She moaned and shivered, then gasped as the orgasm she had been searching for tore through her very being. She bucked, causing the human to spasm and release his seed deep into her womb.

Both figures gasped for breath and suddenly Pepper woke as if from a dream. She looked up at the clerk, confused for a moment or two, then realization set in. With it came a strange combination of fear, disgust and anger. She pushed desperately against him, tears streaking her face.

"Get off... get off... GET OFF!"

The human staggered to his feet, a look of confusion playing across his face. "W-W-What's... What's wrong?"

"Go AWAY! Just get AWAY from ME!"

"But..."

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" the vixen screamed. "LET ME GO! LET ME GO!"

Panicked, the young clerk pulled up his pants; desperately afraid he was being set up for something. He backed away from Pepper then dashed through the freight door, slamming and locking it behind him. Behind him, the detective wept silently, confused and scared, her anger burned out of her.

Slowly the look of confusion was once more replaced by a blank, smiling visage. She brushed away her tears, wondering dimly why she had been crying. Pepper looked around and spotted a pile of upholstery fabric next to the couch. She used a few pieces to clean herself off as best she could, then rose, straightened out her clothing and continued home, stopping by a local hardware store enroute.

To be continued...