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Fox Academy - The New Breed

Chapter 7 - The Garden

Vikki woke to a world of pain, thundering noise and sudden light. Then there was darkness, but the noise and the pain remained. Two faces over her, one dark, one pale, surrounded by stars. Were they talking? Saying something to her?

"Give me the axe." Oh no. Then there was nothing.

* * * * * * * *

Vikki realized that she was awake before her eyes opened. She knew that she was still alive when the pain from her left paw hit. She wished that she were dead when she opened her eyes and saw that instead of a paw her arm ended just below the elbow in a bulb of white bandages, with a red stain on the end that was slowly spreading.

There was darkness, not the dark of unconsciousness, only night time. Moonlight fell through the window; there was a line of light under the door. There was something in the corner of the room, a ghostly head floating without a body. Straining, she could make out the form of someone dressed in dark clothes standing there, but the effort made her lapse back into the deeper darkness.

* * * * * * * *

It was a week more before she could stay conscious for more than a minute at a time. Dr Gordon, the Academy's psychologist, came by, as did the padre. She did not want to talk with either. One of the analysts came by to question her about the compound, but the nurses chased him away.

The nurses told her that she was very lucky to be alive, that she had lost a lot of blood. The surgeon told her that her paw had been detached too long, and had suffered too much trauma to be reattached. The good news, he said, was that he had saved the ligaments of the elbow, many of the forearm muscles and some of the tendons, so an active prosthetic device was a good possibility. Everyone on the staff acted cheerful and friendly around her.

But Vikki could hear them whispering about her out in the hall.

One morning she woke up to find a young fox in hospital pyjamas sitting beside her bed, staring at her; an adolescent, in a secure facility?

"How you feelin'?" He asked when he saw that she was awake

She looked at him more closely. It took Vikki a moment to realize that it wasn't some teenage kit that had wandered down the hall from another ward. The young Fox was Marcel, the junior agent brought into their class just before their emergency graduation.

"Did you get hurt on a mission too?"

"The jammies?" Marcel plucked at the pyjama top he wore. "Naw, this is just a disguise in case someone saw me in the hall."

"You just snuck in here? Into a high-security facility?"

"Sure, isn't that what we do?" he shrugged. This place ain't all that big, found you right away." He stuck out a paw. "Special Agent Marcel. Had a sick assignment doin' some street agentin' but it got mobbed. Got sent here to learn some of this old school stuff before my next session. Happened to be available when the rescue Op when down. Went in with ol' Silver hisself. Man, gotta give him his props, he really slaughtered that one."

Vikki still looked puzzled. "Do you speak either of Canada's official languages by any chance?"

Marcel gave her an exasperated look in return then began speaking slowly and loudly, "I was recruited directly for a special assignment. I didn't go through the academy course. The mission ended and I was brought back here to join you class until they find another mission for me. The Silver Fox ...that's the dude, G-U-Y, that recruited me, he took me along for the ride when your rescue mission went in."

"Silver was on the rescue mission? Not back in the Ops Centre?"

"Yeah, well, he got a case of nerves when some intelligence came in on day two. One of the Brits got captured so we moved to a forward operations centre, to be closer to the action just in case. I was hanging around with nothin'... I mean, with nothing to do since you all left the Academy, so Silver grabs me and says, 'You come with me. We've got three agents to bring home.'"

Mention of the other FOX agents piqued Vikki's Interest. "Are the others okay? Did they complete their missions? Did they need help to get out?"

"Whoa, whoa, sister! Slow down." Marcel clasped his paws together and leaned in toward her. "Let me tell you how it all went down."

* * * * * * * *

Marcel was bored on the plane ride to Europe because the government Challenger jet Silver had commandeered for the flight was not equipped for the entertainment of passengers. He had given Marcel only 15 minutes to pack before leaving and Marcel, never having had to pack in a rush before, had not brought much more than underwear, spare skate-shoes and socks. Marcel tried to engage Silver in conversation but the senior agent spent most of the flight tapping at a laptop he set up on the seat beside him and talking on a secure phone.

When Silver wasn't typing or on the phone he was staring at the ceiling and whistling the same tune over and over again. Marcel tried to ignore it, but he finally asked him what the tune was. He wasn't sure that he heard Silver correctly, but he wasn't about to ask again. He made a mental note to lookup the songs 'The Nut-breakers Sweet' and 'Dance of the Super-Plump Fairies' by some group called 'Try-Cough-Sky'.

Finally the plane arrived at dusk at a more secluded airfield somewhere in Eastern Europe. An American Army Colonel, a mid-sized Cougar dressed in forest camouflage, met them at the base of the ramp. Two large Wolves with assault rifles accompanied him.

"You Silver?" the Colonel asked.

Silver passed his agency ID, something he rarely carried outside the Academy, over to the soldier. The Colonel shone a flashlight on the card and then on Silver's face. Silver just winced from the brightness of the light and waited. The Colonel shone the light over Marcel, taking in his sneakers, dropping jeans, sweatshirt and cap.

"Jaysus Silver. This isn't 'bring your kit to work day'. Couldn't you find a sitter?"

Silver stuck out his arm to stop Marcel and forced him to put the knife down. "He's a special agent, the one mentioned in the visit request."

The Colonel looked hard at Marcel, Marcel looked hard at him. Finally Marcel flipped the knife he was holding into the air, which caused the Wolves to jump into the ready position. Marcel caught the knife by the tip on the end of one callused digit, the middle one, and balanced it for a few seconds in front of the Colonel before letting it slip into its sheath inside his sleeve. The Colonel chuckled and waved at the guards to relax.

"Well he's got balls, and that's the first prerequisite for getting onto my base. Welcome to the 253rd Special Operations Group. I'm Colonel Santos, Commander."

A mobile canteen truck, the kind with a refrigerated compartment and a serving area, was parked on the edge of the taxiway and they were headed for it.

"Some folks here to meet you." Colonel Santos said.

Silver motioned for Marcel to wait and walked over to the truck. He opened the Refrigerated compartment and leaned inside. After fumbling around for a minute he reappeared looking satisfied.

"Perfect."

"May I ask ..." the colonel began.

"No; you may not." replied Silver.

Inside the makeshift operations centre a dozen large flat-screen displays were mounted on the walls. Blue fibre optic cable ran in bundles across the floor.

"I used the word 'Base' in a figurative sense of course." The Cougar said. "This is where we are controlling all of our assets from for this mission; the reconnaissance elements, the search and rescue teams, the assault teams, the escort and clearance flights." As he spoke he gestured to screens that displayed the location and status of the various units. "Since your people needed to go in under EMCON 1, no electronic emissions, we don't have a current location or status for any of them. We won't hear from them until they activate their locators, if at all."

The Colonel showed them to a rest area where they could keep an eye on the action without being in the way, where they could sit and get a coffee if they needed it. They settled in to wait for the first of the scheduled rendezvous.

The Colonel came to see them close to midnight. "We're coming up on the first rendezvous window. Care to join us at the situation board?"

They followed him into the maze of screens and workstations. The Situation board was actually another flat-screen display, larger than the rest, and placed where several of the key staff could see it. It showed the Russian border and the objectives, which were circled in red. Blue circles on the friendly side of the border designated the rendezvous, or RV, points. Yellow circles on the Russian side indicated emergency RVs. A black 'X' over a blue triangle indicated where the British agent had been captured.

A few minutes later the interior of one of the Blue circles lit up. Behind him Marcel could hear one of the operators reporting that A-3 had signalled. After a pause the same operator reported to the Colonel that American Agent number 3 had made contact with the recovery party. Marcel looked closer at the map and saw that each blue circle was designated with a letter and a number. The one that was lit was A-3. Five circles in all were marked with the letter A. Focusing on those opposite the Canadian sector he saw that they were annotated C-1, C-2 and C-3. The last four circles, opposite the British sector, were numbered B-1 through to B-4.

Over the next half-hour blue circles lit up one after another. Operators relayed messages between the command post and the recovery parties. As the time expired only one American and one Canadian RV, C-2, remained dark.

"That's Vikki?" Marcel enquired?

"Beausoleil, yes." Silver replied, without removing his eyes from the situation board. Marcel saw that a little 'vee' had formed between his eyes. Not knowing what they were waiting for, but not wanting to leave the Ops Centre while Vikki was still unaccounted for either, Marcel settled in beside Silver and stared at the board also.

Four hours passed. The second Rendezvous window was approaching. When the minute and second hands of a synchronized clock, hung where everyone could see it, passed the top of the hour together the remaining American circle lit up. When the second window closed C-2 was still dark.

"Sir," one of the workstation operator's had switched to the speakers, used when important information came in so that everyone could be informed at once of new developments. "Signals intelligence indicates an increase in activity at objective C-2. Some of the emissions are coming from outside of the compound, moving south and west. Imagery assets are moving onto target now."

Marcel checked the map. RV C-2 was dead west of the objective, but the closest friendly territory was farther south. If Vikki were running would she take the shortest route to safety? Marcel felt a paw on his arm and turned to see Silver looking down on him. Silver's brow was flat and his gaze was clear; a decision had been made and the time for action had arrived.

"Go to the truck we saw on the tarmac and tell them to prepare number two. Stay and help if you are needed. When they are done report back to me here." Silver turned back to the screen.

Marcel went outside in the dark and walked over to the truck. He knocked on the widow of the cab and the window came down to reveal two Jackals in coveralls. He repeated Silver's instructions.

"Come with us then." One of the Jackals said and headed to the back of the truck. Once there he opened both doors and stepped up inside. "Come on, easier to move them with three." Marcel climbed in, saw what the truck held and would have fallen out the door if the second jackal had not been there to push him back.

Laid out on the floor of the canteen truck, between the shelves of sandwiches and soft drinks, were Randy, Genghis and Vikki; all cold and dead.

"Relax Fox," The first jackal spoke. "It's not your people. These were 'donated'. Matching papers, equipment and outfits were sent in by your people. Now give us a paw lifting her out."

Marcel was severely creeped out. Looking closely at the three bodies in the brightness of the overhead dome light he could see now that they were strangers, but their size, physique, colourings and features were close enough to fool someone who had only seen the originals for a short time, so if they had escaped capture or been seen under other circumstances the body may still be identified as the intruder in question. He struggled to keep his stomach contents inside and leaned down to help.

The Jackals took the body that resembled Vikki around to the side of the truck and lifted up the side to reveal the serving area of the mobile canteen. Its major feature was a long steam table, where pre-prepared foods could be kept warm until sold. They lay the cold vixen along it now.

When they reported that the body was back up to ambient temperature Marcel reported back to Silver. Silver lead Marcel to a corner of the hall and showed him a table covered with military equipment.

"Get geared up if you want to come along." He ordered, "Lose the cap and the baggy clothes, keep your knives if you want but pick out a gun. I'd suggest something small for the size of your paws, the Beretta Cheetah here maybe. We don't need a lot of stopping power. Just cover my back because I'm going to be busy."

"Thanks Silver. It's nice to know that I have an important role to play here." Marcel would have added more but suddenly an orange circle appeared on the screen, on the Russian side of the border, several kilometres away from the rendezvous. The noise in the room picked up considerably until the Colonel shouted for quiet.

"What do think Silver?" the Colonel asked the Canadian agent.

"It's in line with the RV. Imagery shows a natural clearing there so it's a likely alternative. She's way out of the window but if she can't make the border she probably can't wait either. The chase seems to be moving farther away to the south. She's been instructed not to signal from the other side if she had nothing, even if it meant capture and imprisonment. I believe that she has something. I say we go get her."

"All right then." the colonel turned to his staff and spun his finger in the air. The staff officers dispersed rapidly to their stations and began talking into headsets and typing in a frenzy of activity. The colonel turned back to Silver.

"You two go with the recovery team. I have the honour of staying here to take the blame if things go wrong." He gripped Silvers arm above the elbow "Bring her back, and bring all my people back too, will ya?"

Silver nodded, picked up a large black bag that looked heavy, and left. Marcel followed. Running across the tarmac they ducked to avoid the rotors of a large black helicopter and climbed aboard.

* * * * * * * *

When they arrived at the clearing Silver would not let them land. They circled the clearing, searching with the spotlight, and found Vikki face down with one arm outstretched. After the light was extinguished Silver and Marcel jumped down and rushed over to the body, followed by a medic. The medic checked her vital signs while Silver tore through her pack. Marcel saw the damage to her left arm and wanted to vomit, but he forced it back down; mustn't leave any trace if possible. Finally the medic turned her over on her back and stood up.

"Her pulse is weak but steady. I don't see any sign of the missing paw." the paramedic said.

"It's in here." said Silver, who was searching the backpack, and he passed it over to the medic. He had the digital camera now and was plugging it into a small device he carried.

The medic examined the appendage and shook his head. "We'll put it on ice; maybe the surgeons can do something."

"Wait." Silver was intent on the electronic device. "Okay," he said as he unplugged the camera, placing it back in the pack. "I have a copy of all the data, but we can't move her yet. Sergeant," he addressed the medic. "Bring the body over."

"I need to point out to you sir," the medic said with the formal politeness reserved for dealing with idiots of a superior rank, "that this vixen cannot live for much longer without proper medical care."

"Noted, now go get the body. Marcel, get the black bag."

Marcel rushed back to the hovering helicopter and called for the bag to be thrown down. He didn't know what sort of weapons it held, but the sound of metal striking metal and the weight told him that they were sure to be deadly. He dropped the bag beside Silver, who unzipped it to reveal not modern weapons, but a variety of ordinary tools.

The paramedic returned with one of the recovery team wolves carting the dead vixen between them. They lay her gently on the ground beside Vikki. Silver examined the two together.

"Look!" Marcel said, pointing to Vikki. "Her eyes are open!" He and Silver leaned over her.

"Probably in shock; she's not really conscious." Silver ventured, and then he looked at the dead body. "They have the same blood types and our replacement died of heart failure, which fits with the loss of blood and exhausting run though the forest, so hopefully they won't look much farther than that. Now we have to duplicate her wounds on the corpse." Silver rolled the corpse so that its intact left arm was alongside Vikki's damaged one. He pointed at the black bag.

"Give me the axe."

* * * * * * * *

"And after that we switched gear between the two of you, even the belt your tourniquet was made from. She had your pack with the camera and all its pictures. Silver didn't erase any of them. He said that after capturing the Brit, the bird watcher story won't hold water, so it's better that they think you died trying to escape than to leave them wondering where your camera got to. But he had copies of all your data and we had you. So all's good eh?" Marcel asked hopefully.

Vikki didn't respond. She had gotten away but at what price? Even if they could have reattached the paw and she had made a full recovery she was sure that they would be letting her go for alerting the Russians. Now what chance did she have? The academy required all field agents to be able to shoot proficiently with both paws, and taking a desk job, listening to the whispers and suffering the pity of all around her, was unacceptable.

Marcel was about to say something when they heard rapid footsteps approaching. He disappeared under the hospital bed, and Vikki could feel him pulling himself up into the works underneath where the hanging blanket would hide him. A large female Otter in a nurse's uniform came in and surveyed the room, paws on hips and chin stuck out, looking for trouble. Seeing no one other than Vikki she relaxed and addressed the patient.

"Have you seen a young black Fox? Has he been in here?"

"Uh, no. I haven't seen anyone today. Does he work here?"

"Oh no. He's an intruder. If you see him just buzz the nurses station and I'll come get him." She flexed her meaty arms and cracked her knuckles. "I'll have no trouble with him." She turned and left.

When her footsteps had receded Marcel dropped to the floor and rolled out from under the bed.

"I better go. I'll come back and see you again, okay?" He looked hopefully at Vikki, but she wasn't looking back, she was staring down at the sheets where she was picking at them with her remaining paw.

Marcel's face fell. He turned to the door and checked the hall, and then he was gone.

That evening, when the nurse came to clear the dinner that Vikki had not touched she asked about visitors.

"I don't know if I'm ready for visitors yet." Vikki said and the nurse's face clouded with concern. The old Otter had seen agents react this way before and she made a mental note to inform Dr Gordon. "Let's just keep to the medical staff for now, okay?"

"Well, you rest and think on it for a spell." the nurse replied kindly. "I don't know when they have scheduled your debrief, but for now it's just the medical staff and the senior agent who's allowed in, so you don't have to decide right now."

"The Senior Agent? Silver? I haven't seen him around." Vikki said bitterly.

"Why child," the nurse scolded. "He stood in that corner there every night for the first two weeks you were here. It's only since you've been awake that he's stopped coming.

* * * * * * * *

For the next few weeks Vikki healed, at least physically. Gold came and debriefed her, emphasizing the danger of the mission and her monumental efforts to get away after suffering so much, and the successful delivery of the data, but it was just talk, she knew. Build them up before you boot them out, send them away smiling.

Although she was allowed visitors now she avoided contact with anyone not on her immediate medical team, in particular the prosthetics technicians that tried to get her into their department for a fitting. Eventually, however, she had to leave the hospital.

She was surprised to find that her things had been moved from the student dorm into the agent's quarters. She was relieved to find that her former classmates were not around at the moment. Delores was off buttering up Russian diplomats and military delegates. Randy and Genghis had left for their new assignments in foreign lands. Bill Hanlan was still in Ottawa, but he and his wife were living off-campus, and with the analysis of the site taking all his time it was easy to avoid him.

She saw Marcel in the canteen occasionally; apparently he was living in a different part of the quarters. When their eyes met he would wave, smiling at first, but she didn't acknowledge his attempts at friendliness and eventually he just nodded and carried on.

The one person she may have wanted to see was conspicuously absent. Silver had missed the debriefing and her discharge from the hospital. He seemed to have disappeared. Vikki wasn't about to ask anyone where he was.

She sat alone in her room, TV and radio off, running that night through her mind again and again. In the Canteen she sat alone, facing the wall so that she wouldn't see the furtive stares that she was sure everyone casting her way as they whispered together about the agent that had lost her virtue, her arm and her nerve all in one go. She took roundabout routes from the quarters to the hospital for her appointments there, hiding if she thought someone was approaching. She longed for the day when the doctors would pronounce her arm healed so that she could escape this place, but she still refused to see the prosthetic technicians.

Summer was drawing to a close. Her stump was fully healed, the scar closed and the swelling gone, but the doctors still seemed reluctant to discharge her.

One day she returned from dinner to find a maintenance crew in her suite. A pipe had broken below her floor, they explained. She would have to wait in the lounge for several hours while they fixed it and replaced the floor, unless she wanted to go to a motel? Vikki went to the lounge but several staffers were already there, laughing and drinking, so she turned and headed out to the empty deck.

She sat in one of the big wooden muskoka chairs with one foot up and the other tucked under. Resting her head on her chin she stared off into the distance at nothing.

Someone came out on the deck from the bar. Vikki didn't look around; it was probably one of the smokers coming outside for a cigarette. The newcomer walked up and sat down in a chair to Vikki's right, placing his glass down on the table between them. No tobacco smell, not a smoker then. Curiosity got the better of her and she glanced to her right without moving her head. Patent leather shoes, black socks, right ankle resting on the left knee, left paw resting on it. Dress pants with a silk stripe down the seam, ruffled white shirt with French cuffs rolled back, a bow tie hanging loose. Black fur shot through with silver hairs. Silver was back.

Silver sat staring off into the distance and occasionally sipping his drink. Vikki took the opportunity to study him closely for the first time. She lifted her snout over to the other side of her knee to get a better view without having to stare directly at him. The movement brought no response.

She noted how the outside of the heel of his right shoe was worn down while the inside edge still looked new. Coming from a family of beat cops, she knew all about foot problems; Silver was splay-footed. When he reached for his drink she noticed something about that paw, the fourth digit didn't move with the others when he clasped the glass, it stayed sticking straight out. Vikki tried to duplicate it with her right paw hidden behind her leg; it was almost impossible to keep the finger from curling with the rest. Looking back at his face she noticed a scar, a vertical line through the left brow, like a fencing scar, but she doubted that Silver got it in gentlemanly competition.

She had turned her head directly toward him without realizing it, so intent was she on her study. Silver didn't seem to notice, he just kept sipping and watching the horizon. Finally, he spoke.

"You know Vikki," She was startled; it was the first time he had ever called her by her first name. "We are all damaged goods. We come into this world innocent but we start to sully our souls as soon as we learn to reason and to justify our actions. You end up doing things that you couldn't have imagined yourself doing when you were young and idealistic. You look at yourself afterwards and wonder who that was that took over. A lot of us try to drown it in bars like the one behind us." He sipped his drink again, and Vikki realized that it was only water.

"You have things done to you that would have horrified you if you had read about it when you were in grade school, and maybe excited you just a bit when you were in high school, but you wouldn't have understood it then, not really, because you wouldn't have had a reference point to measure it against, if you were lucky. But after it happens to you, you see it reflected in the face of everyone you meet, hear it in every whispered conversation. Whenever you talk to someone you wonder if they know, and if they do, what they think of you now. Soon you can't follow a conversation, and then you can't concentrate on anything because you're spending all of your time thinking about what other people are thinking." He turned to face her.

"Only W, the chief of staff, myself and the medical staff assigned to your case know everything that has happened to you. The looks and the whispers that you imagine are just the echoes of your mind bouncing off the routine activities of life around you. You need to start the journey back soon or else you will regress beyond our ability to assist you."

He stared at her silently for a minute. The lowering sun lightened his eyes and they shone blue like a Caribbean bay. He stood up and held out his paw.

"Come with me." His tone of voice brokered no arguments or refusals.

Taking his paw, she allowed herself to be led off the deck and across the grass to the fence that separated the grounds from the rest of the experimental farm. They went through a gate that locked behind them and continued through the grounds to an area that had been left wild and almost impregnable by tangled underbrush, but Silver knew a way through. The undergrowth soon thinned and the trees got larger and father apart. Topping a slight rise he stopped and she looked down a notch in the ground on a strange scene.

At the top of the notch was an eight-sided gazebo, decorated with wooden curves, curlicues and flower-patterns like a gingerbread house. It had low walls on seven sides and a backless bench facing the setting sun. In front of the gazebo was small pond, feed by a spring on this end, and draining somewhere out of sight. A gravel path encircled the pond. On the south side of the pond there was a terraced rock garden, with three main arcs at least a hundred feet long and may intermediate levels. Some plants that had bloomed early in the season and were dark green carpets filling their rocky confines, others were in full bloom, reds mostly this late in August, while still others showed the tender green of plants coming into bloom. The north side was mostly bare, but terraces could be seen there also. An old yellow wheelbarrow full of rocks sat on the path on that side, with a shovel leaning against it.

Silver led her into the gazebo and they sat on the bench, facing west. Silver's left paw rested on the bench between them, still holding her right paw.

"According to a journal I found in the archives, this spot was a mica mine from 1860 until about 1900, when the spring broke through and flooded it. One of the Lumber Barons bought the land in 1924, discovered this spot in 1926 and built the gazebo in 1927." The sun was approaching the horizon, across the pond from where they sat. "In a few minutes you'll see why."

They sat silently, waiting. The sun, now a distorted dull-orange ball that they could look at without hurting their eyes, touched the horizon. Suddenly the surface of the pond glowed orange as the still surface reflected the sun back to them, but the glowing pond only served to highlight the dazzling display of gold and black that shone from the edges of the old mine and the rocks of the garden as the sunlight bounced off the chips of mica. It changed constantly in hue and intensity as the sun steadily lowered. It seemed to last for hours, but Silver assured her later that it had only taken six minutes. There was a final flash of green as the sun disappeared.

"That was beautiful." Vikki said. Then she realized that she was gripping Silver's paw so tightly that her knuckles were white under the fur. She released his paw and went to clasp her other, then froze as she remembered that she didn't have another to clasp. Self-consciously she doubled over with her arms crossed over her chest.

Silver put one paw on her shoulder and increased the pressure until she straightened back up. He took her good wrist and placed her paw back on the bench beside her, resting his right paw on hers, with his left arm across her shoulders.

"A long time ago," He began, "When I was just a new agent like you are, I was sent on a mission to Finland. Although in the end we got the information we were after, it went terribly wrong and some good people suffered because of decisions I made. When I came back from that one I was depressed and obsessed with trying to figure out how I could have saved the situation. I spent hours wandering around the grounds, avoiding contact with the other agents. That's how I found this spot. I was lucky enough to be sitting here at sunset and saw what you just saw for the first time."

"I looked through the archives and found the journal. The owner tells how he came to find this spot and his plans to beautify it. This spot was just a ragged hole in the ground when he discovered its unique alignment, but he recognized that this had been a beautiful place once. He believed that it could be beautiful again, so he carefully built this gazebo and started planning for a garden, plans that he never got to finish, unfortunately."

"He lost the land in the stock market crash of '29. The government bought the land in the 30's to expand the experimental farm. This corner was out of the way and useless for agriculture so they let it go back to nature. When I found it again the gazebo was still solid and I only needed to clear some brush and trees from around it."

"I started coming here every day to clear brush and move rocks. I had a mind to finish what he had started. I had never so much as touched a trowel before then so I had to spend a lot of time researching and trying things out, and gradually I got too busy to think about what others were thinking of me. It helped me to clear my mind and really take a hard look at what had happened in Finland and why. I worked this site all that summer, and in autumn I was ready to go back in the field."

"Seventeen years later I had another bad spell. It was while China was under marshal law after the Tian An Men incident. Everyone was desperate to find out what was happening at the top politically. A meeting with our head of station was requested by one of our contacts. The analysts thought that it might be a trap because the heads of two other nations' intelligence stations had disappeared in the preceding days. It was decided that our head of station would stay anonymous, and that I would go to the meeting in his place."

"It was a trap, and the Ministry of State Security was not happy to have captured someone with no knowledge of our network in China. They decided to make an example of me."

Silver stood and turned to face her. He slowly unbuttoned the dress shirt he wore. When it was open, he grasped the two sides and pulled the shirt apart and down over his shoulders, exposing his torso. His chest was criss-crossed by four major scars that glowed white in the dimming light, and several minor ones. One nipple was completely gone.

"My back looks the same." Silver said, pulling his shirt back onto his shoulders, but leaving it open. "But this is only the physical damage. When they didn't get the mental collapse they wanted from the torture they strapped me down on a bench and found new ways to humiliate me. I know what you have been through Vikki, all of it." Silvers face had gone taught and his expression was unreadable, but his paws were clenching the shirt so tightly that they trembled. Vikki knew that the memories were still painful although eighteen years had passed and how hard it must be for him to tell his story to a relative stranger, and subordinate at that, and risk losing her respect.

"How did you escape?" she asked.

"They traded me back; partially because I really was of no use to them, and partially because they believed that living with the humiliation would be worse than killing me. They were almost right. When I got back I was in the hospital here also, but the atmosphere wasn't helping me recover mentally. Gold, Tancred Williams, came and took me to his chalet in the Gatineau hills. He took care of me while I recovered."

"Were you two ever ...?" she enquired.

"No. He is just my best friend. My garden was what I needed at the time. Every weekday he would drop me off near this spot and I would take off my shirt and work. By the time I was ready to see other people again I had finished the entire south side."

She gazed at him for a minute, studying his expression and his eyes for any sign of falsehood. Satisfied she asked, "What is it you think that I need?"

"You need to know that the life you want is still possible for you. You need to know that everything that was you before you were attacked is still there, inside you, waiting to be brought back to the surface. You need to find your own garden, something you can love and nurture, the thing that you come back to, the beauty spot in your life that keeps you sane."

"And you are okay now?" She asked. "Has all this 'garden therapy' chased away the ghosts and brought you peace?"

He sat beside her again and sighed. "You can only keep moving forward, and realize that trying is better than the alternatives, surrendering or hiding. Yes, there are things that I've not fully settled with myself yet, but I believe that one day I will. Hey," he smiled for the first time. "You're the first person beside Gold to see me with my shirt off since 1991, isn't that progress?"

"Even if I do get over this," she said sadly. "My life here is done." She lifted her left arm and pulled back the sleeve to uncover the now healed stump. Can't do much with this now can I?"

"Oh, didn't the prosthetics techs tell you?"

"I'm afraid that I've been avoiding them." She blushed. "Tell me what?"

"They can fit you out with the latest in robotic prosthetics. Sensors and microchips will read your muscle movements and translate that into the new paw and wrist. Servomotors will provide grip strength, probably more than you had before. Data from sensors in the paw will be feed back into your nervous system and in a short time you will learn how to control it. They can even make it look and feel realistic, although you might want something more durable for field work."

"You'll still be able to hold a gun and your marksmanship will probably improve, given that there will be no wrist muscles to tire out, no involuntary twitches and your grip will always be exactly the same. You are not the first agent to go back in the field after an incident like this with new parts. Surely Dr Gordon told you all this?"

"I ... I guess I wasn't listening. I was so afraid that one day he would tell me that it was time to leave the Academy that I blanked everything out." She reached out and ran the tip of one digit along the scar that had taken away one of his nipples. "They couldn't remove these and replace it?" She looked up to see him staring into her eyes. Her paw was still against his chest.

"You have flecks of gold in your green eyes." Silver told her. "It's the first thing I noticed about you when we had the ball hockey game, how your eyes flashed when you charged the net trying to score the winning goal. I almost forgot to stop it." He gently took her wrist and raised the paw to his lips and then he kissed it. Placing it back on his ruined chest he reached down and took her left arm. This too he raised to his mouth, and uncovering the foreshortened limb he kissed it also. He pulled the sleeve back into place and lowered it to her lap.

Vikki leaned toward him, hesitantly at first, and placed her mouth against his. Their mouths opened together to seal the kiss as their heads rolled slowly in tandem. Her paw clutched at the fur of his chest. After an age she drew back.

"Is this what I need, at this time?" she asked.

"I think it's what we both need at the moment."

She slid up against him on the bench. She caressed the fur on the back of his head while their lips explored each other. He rubbed her back with one paw and stroked her neck lightly with the other. Their tongues found each other and she pressed her mouth harder against his.

He trailed the pad of a single digit down her neck to the collar of her shirt then continued down over her breast, across the nipple and under. When it reached the narrow strip of exposed fur between her shirt and the jeans that she wore it changed direction and moved across her abdomen, so lightly that hardly a hair was disturbed, but its passage left a tingling sensation behind. Now as it headed south again along the inside of her thigh he used the claw, pressing down harder on the thick, tight denim.

Vikki pulled his shirt down and he released her to shake it to the ground. Leaning back on his outstretched arms, the rising moon lit up the scars on his chest. Ignoring them, Vikki leaned down to lick at his remaining nipple while she undid his pants. When she felt it harden she closed her lips around it and sucked hard, bringing a moan from Silver. Forgetting her injury, she wrapped both arms around him and pressed him down onto the bench.

She straddled him and worked his chest and neck, licking, sucking in his skin, running her paw along it. He grasped both sides of her shirt, pulled it up over her head and off. With practised ease he undid the snap on her bra and let it drop to his chest; she brushed it aside impatiently. Reaching down he undid the button holding the jeans closed above her tail, then the one above the fly in front before lowering the zipper; difficult with her pressed so tightly against him.

He sat up, forcing her upright. Hooking his thumbs in her pants he pulled down as she stood up, taking jeans and panties both at once. Vikki stood on one leg at a time to complete the action, while he pulled off his own trousers. Finally she was standing naked before him with one leg on each side of the bench, and with him in between.

Silver began to run his paws up, down and across her, as lightly as the passage of a breeze. Sometimes using his claws, going with the lay of her fur, so that the tip brushed the skin below, leaving a trail of sparks behind. Sometimes he used the pads against the grain so that the tip of each hair was pulled back until her fur stood up, the skin vibrating beneath. His paws went up the outside of her hips and torso and she raised her arms so that he could continue. They went down and under her breasts, along the edges of her taut belly, tracing the line where her legs joined, down and around and back along the line of her buttocks and up her spine. He avoided the traditional erogenous zones, the vagina, nipples and anus, but found others that Vikki didn't know she had. Soon the tips of his claws were circling those spots on her back, thighs and abdomen, making her shudder each time they drifted across. She felt her nipples and clitoris harden and warm moisture began to spread between her legs.

She moaned and pressed herself against him, pulling his head into her chest below her breasts. The circling fingers had less territory to wander now, and they looped lower and lower, homing in on the heat emanating from her. Her tail was up along her back now, leaving her exposed from behind, and one digit found the tender skin around the hole there. Nearby, two fingers of the other paw traced the triangle of her vulva, squeezing the swollen mound together until the inner lips came out. A third finger took the shortcut up the middle, just brushing her clit as it passed, and the contact sent a lightning bolt through her. She bit down on one of his ears.

Now his paw was inside her. One finger deep inside stroking the top of her canal, the thumb playing her clit like a mandolin. Behind her the other pressed against her anus, then left to moisten itself in her slit before returning. Slowly, countering the strokes inside her and the flickering thumb, the tip of his finger rotated into her tail hole.

She could feel the sensation building deep inside her. She shook with what had passed for orgasms in her previous encounters, sweat mixing with the fluid dripping from her, but Silver didn't stop, and the sensation kept building. She squeezed his head tighter between her breasts, felt his tongue tickle the tip of one nipple. Silver had two fingers rubbing inside her cunt and one sliding in and out of her ass, the thumb pressing her clit against her pelvis, massaging hard. The pressure inside was unbearable now. Eyes wide she turned her face to the sky and screamed as her insides exploded.

Her hips bucked against him instinctively and she felt a rush of hot fluid course down her legs. Suddenly every portion of her body was super sensitive, she could almost feel the dust in the air around her. Silver had withdrawn his fingers and was caressing the outer edge of her vagina. When he slid it up between to touch the swollen button of flesh there her insides clenched and she came again, although there was no more to wring out of her. Silver's paw circled outside and around again, dove back inside, making her insides clench, three more times until she pushed it away.

"Stop." she gasped. "You'll kill me."

"But what a way to go." He pulled his head from her clutch and shook it to make his ears pop back up. He ran his paws down her sides one last time then leaned back against his arms again. He stared up at her and she looked down at him as the night air cooled her and the trembling slowed. She dipped her paw between her legs and raised it to her mouth, put it inside and sucked it dry.

"Your turn." She grinned.

Lifting one leg over the bench, she knelt beside it with her arm across his thighs and her paw on his hip. She looked at the blunt end of her left arm for a moment then rested the forearm on his chest. Looking down, she saw the eye of his penis staring back at her.

She licked her lips and leaned forward, enveloping the tip, tracing the small slit there with her tongue inside. She pulled back, but not off and slid down again, squeezing with her lips, teasing with her tongue. Her claws traced the line of his hip down to his sack and back.

Each bob of her head took more of him in, each circuit of her paw went lower. Soon her lips were slowly running up and down the full length of his shaft, her paw cupping his balls in time with each plunge. Shifting her weight she turned perpendicular to him. Lifting her head from his cock she inserted one finger there, rolling it around inside and pulling it out dripping saliva.

She looked at Silver tenderly, a bit apprehensively, and said, "Tell me if you want me to stop."

As she took him in her mouth again her paw squeezed up between his legs, easing them farther apart. He trembled as it spread his buttocks, and his whole body leapt as the tip of the wet digit lightly touched his anus. Vikki froze and look at him.

"Okay, it's okay" he stammered, but his paws were gripping the edges of the bench hard enough to scar the wood.

Vikki's head lifted and dropped again, and again. She rubbed his chest with her forearm and traced the sensitive skin of his tail hole. She felt his muscles tighten as he fought the sensations down, trying to hold on. Moving even slower now she pulled back until just the tip of her lips remained in contact and pressed the tip of her finger harder against his hole. She could taste the pre-ejaculation fluid that leaked from his cock, and licked it clean before it could escape into his fur. The act made him shudder harder and she felt his balls tighten in preparation.

"No, no, no. Not yet." she whispered. She squeezed the base of his penis and blew gently on the shaft to cool it down. When Silver was back in control and breathing regularly again she stood and swung her leg over the bench. Guiding him with her paw she lowered herself down until the tip brushed the entrance to her. Still wet from his earlier ministrations he slid in smoothly as Vikki squatted down, the muscles in her thighs standing out, her face hard from the effort to resist plunging straight down in a rush.

Slowly at first, she lifted and lowered herself, rotating her hips back and forth in rhythm. She steadied herself with one paw on his chest and he put a paw on each of her hips to assist. Each time the tip of his cock pressed against the inside of her she signed, when her re-awoken clit ground against the base of it she gasped. Her pace increased. Soon her breaths were coming short and forceful, sucked in through gritted teeth, blowing her cheeks out on exiting. Silver was sucking in long trembling breaths himself, his hips thrusting up as her pelvis came down.

"A-a-a-h-h-h-h-h" With a final moan he arched his back, pulled her hips down and pushed his cock as deep as it would go and Vikki felt the small explosion of warmth inside. The grinding against her clit set off a series of mild orgasms; pleasant, not so intense as earlier. His hips relaxed and his ass settled back onto the bench. Vikki relaxed too and lowered herself to lie on top of him.

They stayed like that a while, idly caressing each other, twirling one another's fur, until a buzzing in her ear let her know that the mosquitoes had found them. Waving them away they sat up. Silver put his paw along her jaw and kissed her tenderly once more.

"Thank you." He whispered. Vikki did not reply, but she caressed his face before turning to find her clothes.

As they dressed Vikki asked him where he had been the last few weeks.

"I've been working on the missile shield case. It looks like that machine you found is designed to tap into the American military's global positioning system, a key component of the anti-missile missile's targeting system. The shaft is angled so that only the piece of sky that that particular satellite occupies is visible from the bottom. That not only serves to prevent interference but also prevents detection, a sensor platform would have to get directly between the two to pick up the carrier signal."

"You'll be happy to know that our ruse worked, they increased security and shut down the device for a month, but they didn't move it. They still think that it's a secret. The Americans will be paying them a midnight visit soon."

Vikki was glad that the data she had brought back was valuable, but she still felt bad about using the young vixen's body as a decoy. She would never have come up with an idea like that, and if it were suggested she would not have considered it, at least not before this. She wondered if she would ever become as ruthless as Silver, and in doing so realized that she was already thinking ahead to her future as an FOX agent.

They finished dressing and Silver led her back along the trail in the dark.

For several minutes after they departed the clearing was quiet, quiet enough for the frogs and insects to start singing again. They fell silent again instinctively as a shadow detached itself from the bushes behind the gazebo. Marcel stepped cautiously out into the dim moonlight. He stared hard at the gazebo for a full minute, at a black bow tie lying forgotten under the bench. With a last glance around he headed back toward the Academy.

* * * * * * * *

The next morning Vikki reported to the prosthetics department. As the technician measured and mumbled to himself about time wasted she looked around idly. Glancing through the glass door that separated the department from the rest of the surgical ward she saw Silver standing there, leaning against the opposite wall, watching her with a small smile on his face. When he caught her eye he nodded and, pushing off of the wall, disappeared down the hall.

Several minutes later Silver knocked on the door to Gold's office. On entering he sat across from Tanner, the large oak and leather desk between them, and told him the outlines of what had happened the night before.

"So, are you here to brag or to turn yourself in for fraternizing with a subordinate?" Tanner asked.

"Both perhaps. I think that she's going to be okay. I think that we have a team."

"With only two new agents?" Tanner's brows rose.

"It's enough to track down whoever is taping into our networks. But first, I think we need to take care of the compound where Beausoleil found the satellite interceptor. The Americans are sending their special forces in, but given what our girl went through to bring the information back out I managed to get an slot reserved for a Canadian 'technical expert'. I'll be going in with them two weeks from now. Hopefully there'll be some clue there as to who's behind this."

"And coincidentally get a little payback for what happened to Vikki." Gold added.

Silver leaned back in his chair. "Every job has a few perks, Tanner Old Boy."

* * * * * * * *

Silver spent the days of next two weeks training for the mission and checking his equipment. He spent his nights with Vikki. She spent her days trying out various prosthetics, wearing a temporary one while the robotic replacement was manufactured. The night before he was to depart, while they lay in each other's arms, Vikki brought up the subject of his mission.

"Will you be away long, do you think?" She asked.

"Let's see ... two days of travel, one day of briefings, two days of rehearsals, the raid itself ... probably two days of debriefing and another to unwind ...10 or 11 days altogether I would say. Why do you ask?"

She sat up and looked down on him. "Because when you get back I'll be back on active duty. I'll be working for you, and we'll have to decide whether to keep this thing that we have, or break it off."

"Vikki, I ..." Vikki stopped him with a finger to his lips.

"Shh. I said when you get back. You think about it, I'll think about it, and when we see each other again we'll talk. For tonight, you're mine." She slid a paw under the sheet and began to stroke him.

"I have to get up at five remember?"

"You had better be 'getting up' now. You can sleep on the plane."

Afterwards She asked if they would be monitoring the mission in the operations room. Silver confirmed that they would, but that access was restricted.

"Marcel will be there, its part of his training to help out during an operation and this is his first chance. You can get the news from him, I'll call and tell him that it's okay."

Vikki kept him up most of the night. When she woke he was gone, but he had left a note.

"Called Marcel, all set up. You wait in the canteen and he will come out for a nature break regularly and fill you in. See you in 10 days max, we can unwind together before we talk."

The day of the mission she booked off the appointments she had and took a vacation day. With the time difference the operation was due to begin at 1:00 pm Ottawa time. Vikki sat in the canteen at a small table between the operations room exit and the washrooms.

On the 2:00 break Marcel reported that the reconnaissance teams were in place, watching the compound. Security was heavier than when Vikki had been there. At 3:30 he apologized for being late, but the operations staff had been busy evaluating new data concerning the number of guards and types of weapons they had. The American commander was willing to assume the risk and had just given the final okay. The mission was in the air and only an emergency transmission could stop them now.

At 4:30 Marcel didn't appear at all, but two senior staffers did and Vikki overheard part of their conversation as they headed for the washrooms.

"Jesus, it's getting hairy in there. I hope that they can get most of them back out again"

Vikki waited by the canteen. Five o'clock came and went, so did six. By seven she had build a replica of the Titanic out of artificial sugar packets and still no one came out of the ops room. It must be nearing dawn there. They would have to have left the objective by now.

It was 7:34 when Marcel finally came out. Vikki knew because she had been glancing at the clock every 30 seconds or so for the last hour. Marcel had his hat in his paws. He was looking down at it and wringing the brim as he approached her. He didn't look up until he had stopped before her.

One look at Marcel's face was all she needed to know that the news was bad. She sagged back into the bench. Marcel bowed his head and turned away. A single tear, the last she would shed for a very long time, rolled down the side of her snout and hung on the edge of her lip until she pawed it away.

** * * * * * *

Epilogue - 25 years later

The Chief of Staff sat behind the desk in the office that connected to the Director's suite. The furniture, heavy oak and leather, had not been changed since the original Chief of Staff, Tancred Williams, had picked them out nearly 50 years ago. His picture hung on the wall, along with the two other former Chiefs of Staff. The office and furniture were not the only legacies of the job, the codename Gold, used by all but the Chief of Staff's close friends, came with it also.

The Chief of Staff's duties were diverse, and settling disputes between the various divisions at FOX was one of less pleasant ones. Today Gold waited for the senior student, who had a complaint against the ground keeping staff. The senior student was late, and Gold was doubly irritated; this was opening night of the new concert series at the National Arts Centre, and Gold had arranged to attend. If this matter couldn't be dealt with quickly, Gold, already dressed and ready to leave, would be late; and Gold hated being late.

Finally, a full fifteen minutes after the scheduled appointment, there was a knock on the door.

"Come In."

"Good afternoon Chief, sorry to be late but the Chief Instructor and I were going over the material for the doctrine lessons."

More likely you were arguing with him again, Gold thought. According to his dossier the senior student was a former analyst with a law degree who had a reputation for brilliance in his own mind, and one for arrogance in everyone else's. Although he wasn't aware of it, he was on the edge of being returned to his former agency. The instructional staff was divided on the issue so Gold would make the final decision. Being late wasn't helping his case any. Gold addressed him sharply.

"Don't call me 'Chief' Mr. Reynolds. You can address me as Chief of Staff or Gold. You are fifteen minutes late so state your business and be concise."

If the student was taken back he didn't show it. "It's the ground keeping staff, and one of the ground keepers in particular. We've been looking, the students that is, for a place to hold the end of course party, somewhere other than the lounge, and seeing as the course is due to end in July we were looking for a secluded spot outdoors. We tried down by the canal but that's too public..."

As he continued to speak his eyes left those of the Chief of Staff and he looked at nothing as he began to gesture with his right paw. This was a bad habit in Gold's view; how can you gauge the reaction to what you are saying and change tack if you are not looking at your audience? Maybe that's why he isn't practising as a lawyer. It was time to bring him back on focus.

"I have a busy schedule today Reynolds, what is your point?"

"Oh, yes. Well we found a perfect spot, secluded, still on Academy property, and not being used by anyone as far as we know. It's a garden and pond in the woods out behind the canteen." He was orating again, now actually wandering around the office as he spoke, so he didn't see the Chief of Staff sit up at mention of the garden.

"It hasn't been kept up though. I realize of course that budgets are tight everywhere but the grounds keepers have little enough to do. Half of one side hasn't been planted at all and there's an old yellow wheelbarrow and tools just sitting around. The gazebo is in good shape but it could be moved back to make more room for picnic tables and them larger groups can enjoy it."

"Anyway we took the initiative of fixing it up, well, I did actually. I just instructed the other students to start working on it. But we had hardly started when some crazed old Doberman they call Rusty, the one that chews that disgusting tobacco? Well he shows up and starts yelling at us to leave the wheelbarrow where it is and not to touch anything. He twisted Robert's arm and shoved him out off the clearing. Honestly, we need to start looking elsewhere for ground keeping staff." He finally stopped his pacing and turned to face Gold. "I would like you to ..." he froze with his mouth open, fixed in place by the expression on Gold's face.

Gold was up from the chair with both fists pressed into the leather desktop, leaning forward and glaring at the senior student intently. Reynolds didn't know it but only a few people had seen that look, and that was just before they died at Gold's paw. His fate, while not so final, had been decided in the last moments.

"That 'grounds keeper' is a volunteer, on pension after 40 years of service as this Academy's Combat Instructor. If I were the malicious sort I'd tell you to deal with him, at which point he would probably rip your head off, shit down the hole and replace your stupid noggin on upside-down. That garden is Academy property and you don't as much as move a pebble from the path without my express permission." The speech wasn't diminishing Gold's anger at all. Reynold's jaw began to work as he fought for words.

"Don't talk." Gold warned. "Just go. Tell the other students that that area is out of bounds." Gold's left arm came up and one finger shot out of the fist to point at the door. "Go."

Reynolds made his first good decision and left without a word.

Gold sat back in the antique leather chair that had served all the Chiefs of Staff. Glancing at the clock Gold noted that there were still a few minutes before the evening's escort arrived for the drive to the Arts Centre. An itch had developed on Gold's left forearm, so she unstrapped her prosthetic and rubbed the stump. Time to be refitted perhaps?

A knock sounded at the door again. Probably Reynolds back with one last career-ending argument Vikki thought. She hid her prosthetic out of sight below the desk and called for him to come in.

To her delight it was not Reynolds, but her escort. Tall, but not quite as tall as her, dressed in a fine tuxedo and black bow tie. He looked impatient, his peculiar blue-grey eyes were flashing. She stood to greet him still holding her artificial paw.

"We're going to be late, I had to park all the way down by the Chicken barn, and you don't even have your arm on. Honestly Mother."

Vikki walked around from behind the desk while she reattached her prosthetic, 25 years of practice made the job easy and it was on in an instant. She scolded her son as she approached.

"Don't worry so much Leslie, we'll be there in time. We'll take my car, it's right outside." She stepped up close to him and lifted his chin so that she could look straight into his eyes. He had inherited her vibrant red fur but he had his father's eyes. She smiled, remembering the first time she had seen those eyes up close.

"What's so funny Mother?"

"Nothing, Leslie Sterling Beausoleil, my beauty. I was remembering someone that once told me to grow my own garden if I wanted to find peace of mind."

"Now that's funny. I can't imagine you poking around in the dirt trying to grow things; every plant you've ever bought has died within a year; but their prophesy has come true don't you know?"

Indulging him she asked "How so?"

"Well my name, Leslie. I looked it up when I was doing that heraldry project in grade 8. Leslie is a Scottish name that means garden. You have raised a garden." He spread his arms dramatically and struck a pose.

"Well, you learn something new every day." remembering how she had found the name on the Internet herself in two minutes flat all those years ago. "Lets go, the orchestra is opening with a selection from Tchaikovsky's 'The Nutcracker Suite' and I want to be settled before they begin."

The End

The character of Joel the Lemur is © Joel the Lemur

The rest are © Dikran_O