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FOX Academy:

Book I - The New Breed

Book II - The Werewolf of Odessa

The Werewolf of Odessa - Chapter 3 - Equal Opportunity

The reunion between Vikki and Silver in the rubber Zodiac as they raced across the Sea of Azov was short and painful. She and Gold had pulled the Fox, freezing despite the neoprene suit, into the boat while leaving Marcel to pull himself in. Immediately after that she had thrown herself into his arms, an unfortunate mistake that could only be blamed on her unfamiliarity with the semi-rigid amphibious assault craft. She reached him just as the bow hit a wave and Silver fell backwards. She landed on him, with a knee in a particularly tender spot considering the torture he had recently suffered.

Silver screamed and clutched his crotch. Gold, ignorant of the nature of Silver's torture, reacted fast least the injury involve the large artery in that area; he pulled off the neoprene suit and bared Silver's groin. After a quick examination he gave Silver an injection that would render him unconscious so they could begin to treat the area.

"Funny," Silver said as her drifted into a drugged stupor, "I always thought that you were supposed to drug me first THEN get into my pants." Gold just shook his head.

* * * * * * * *

Two weeks had passed since then, with no opportunity for Vikki to speak to Silver. At first he was kept unconscious in the infirmary of the ship that recovered them in international waters. The ship's surgeon was unwilling to attempt treatment and felt that an induced coma would protect Silver from the shock of his injuries better than morphine. As soon as they were close enough to an allied airbase he was evacuated by helicopter, to be flown to the Canadian Forces medical facilities in Germany.

Now Silver was back at FOX Academy in Ottawa. His first stop, after visiting his suite to change into some of his own clothes, was W's office. He left a message for Vikki that he would come to her rooms when the director was done with him.

The Walrus known as 'W' had been the director of the Academy since its inception during the cold war. The Walrus was approaching the age of 80 and it was said that his mind was still as sharp as it ever was; which made Silver wonder how he had gotten the job in the first place.

"Ah, Silver!" W greeted him warmly as he entered the director's office. "Have a seat. Now, how are you feeling? How's the ... thing ... going? Damn it I can't remember the word for it, on the tip of my tongue, starts with a 'P', haven't had any use for it myself for years. How's your ...your ..."

"Penis?" Silver suggested, and when W still looked confused he added, "Prick, Pecker?"

" ...Physio! How's the Physiotherapy going? Is it helping your ... wait ...begins with a 'C', your ... your ..."

"Cock? Crotch?"

" ... Condition! Helping your condition any? Will you recover completely? What about, you know, getting back in the saddle so to speak. Will you ever be able to ... I know this one ... just a second ... starts with an 'F', takes two people ..."

"Fornicate, Fool-around?" Silver added resignedly, "Fuck?"

"... Father children! Still shooting full loads, eh wot?" W leaned across the desk and looked inquisitively at Silver.

"No. There was too much damage and they had to remove the tubes. The, uh, weapon still fires but it can only shoot blanks now."

"Oh! I am sorry to hear that Silver. Still, all for the best I suppose. Children are a complication in this line of work that you are better off without. Now," W tapped a red folder that was on his desk, "I've read your debrief and I wanted to ask you what you thought of the whole affair with this Werewolf fellow."

"It's pretty straight forward. He's obviously figured out some way of hacking into the Allied Missile Defence system and is using that access to guide the intercept missiles. What's strange is the fixation he has with us here at FOX." Silver's brow furrowed as he thought through the problem. "He must know that we wouldn't get involved unless there was a Canadian angle, something that gives us jurisdiction. Didn't they trace the control signal back to Canada? I think that we need to start looking closer to home. What was White working on before he was killed?"

"He was investigating the movement of large sums of money on behalf of the Treasury. Someone has been moving funds between Canada and Europe at an alarming rate. The Treasury started to investigate but their chap turned up floating in the Ottawa River with several new holes in him. Another fellow traced the money as far as a casino in the Ukraine, but he disappeared. We were asked to step in as it was a foreign country and evidently a dangerous assignment, and White was dispatched to take a look around. You know the rest; White was killed in his room at the casino last winter."

"Well, the Ukraine connection fits with the Werewolf. When do I leave?"

"Oh, you won't be going for a while yet Silver. Doctor's orders. You take some time to heal up and then we'll see. In the meantime we'll task all the collection agencies to concentrate on this Werewolf and his contacts and build a better picture of what we are up against."

"What do I do in the meanwhile?" Silver enquired. "I can't just sit around my room waiting for something to come in."

"Actually, I did have something that I wanted you to help me with." W seemed a bit evasive. "I'd like you to help out training the new recruits."

"New recruits? I thought training was on hold until we built up a new cadre of agents?"

"Ah. Well. We are not our own masters in this matter I am afraid." W sat back. "We had a number of applicants on our books when that decision was made and some of them submitted complaints to the Public Service Commission when they were told the bad news. That lead to an investigation and, well, it wasn't pretty. The end result is that we have had to induct a number of new candidates and give them a fair go at passing the training."

"What does a 'fair go' entail?"

"Same standards as before, if they fail a task twice or fail two tasks we can give them the old 'Heave Ho', but there can be no failures for other reasons. The commission will be reviewing every dismissal and can overrule us."

"That's not too bad then. Maybe we'll even find a couple of good candidates for field work amongst them."

"There is another complication." W pulled another docket out from under Silver's debrief and handed it over. Silver opened it and saw that it contained the background sheets for the students on course. He read them one by one, commenting as he went.

"Not bad. This one's okay. Loser. No chance. Not bad. Hmm, impressive. What's this, an American?" He looked up at W. "How did an American Arctic Fox with a record get into the school?"

"He has certain skills that we need in this technological age. He was working for the Signals Intelligence boys, testing their protective systems, but apparently got bored. He hacked into the Pentagon you know. Anyway, he has citizenship and the appropriate clearance, as do they all. Read on." Silver game him a puzzled look and continued.

"Average. I'll give this one two weeks. Not bad." Suddenly he stopped talking, staring fixedly at the top of the last data sheet.

"This ...person, this one ... is not a Fox." He lifted his head and waited for an explanation.

"No. She is a feline, a Cloud Leopard to be exact. Very rare species; from Borneo originally and actually, now this is fascinating, actually not a true leopard at all. In fact ..." W's voice trailed off seeing Silver still staring fixedly at him. "We had no choice Silver. The commission took one look at our demographics and went crazy. Not a single field agent has been any species except Fox since the Academy's inception."

"I thought that that was the point of FOX." Silver's tone dripped with sarcasm.

"Now, you're not a speciesist are you Silver? You've worked with and against some of the best agents from around the world and they were not all foxes were they? You yourself advocated a broader range of recruitment and," W held up one finger to make his point, "and bringing other species to the field. Change is inevitable Silver. We either embrace it or step aside, but we can't stop it."

It was true, Silver thought, but it was still hard to believe that it was happening now. He looked through the file again.

"Ophelia Cassidy Sommer, eye colour ' Ice Purple. Is that some kind of mistake? Maybe she has defective vision. Did we check that out?" W looked back into Silver's unique blue-grey orbs and remained silent. "I guess we did then." Silver conceded. "And she's American too, of course. It says here that she was investigated for murder?"

"She was suspected of poisoning her abusive husband, she has an extensive knowledge of poisons, her mother was a pharmacist and she herself has a degree in Biotechnology, but there was no evidence. She passed all of the psychological tests and the lie detector test. We aren't recruiting Saints you know." W chided, then continued innocently, "Look at her background on the other side."

Silver flipped the sheet over and read for only a few seconds before his eyes locked onto something there. When he looked up there was real sorrow in his expression.

"There's trouble coming."

He was wrong; trouble was already there.

* * * * * * * *

At that moment most of the students were gathered in the hallway of the residence, outside the door of the unisex washrooms. The door had a small sign with male and female symbols on it, and the rule was that when you went in you slid the panel to expose the sex you were and cover the other. If the panel was already covering your sex you waited until the others left before using the washroom. If you were the last to leave then you slid the panel back to the middle to indicate that the room was empty. Mistakes were inevitable at the beginning of the course, and the staff let the students work it out amongst themselves; but this gathering was different.

At the centre of the group, surrounded by foxes, stood a feline. Like the rest of the crowd she wore the unmarked grey shorts and t-shirt the Academy issued for physical training. She was a little shorter than most of them; Cloud Leopards aren't a big cat like Tigers. Her fur was light grey in general and where she wasn't covered by shirt and shorts she was covered by large dark grey spots that were rimmed with black, like storm clouds drifting across a sombre sky. Her expression was equally stormy.

"Who did it?" She demanded again. Someone in the group stifled a laugh.

"Who did what?" A newcomer to the crowd, an Arctic Fox, half white as his coat made its annual change from light brown to pure white asked. The cat held the door open with one paw and he moved forward, adjusting his rimless glasses, to peer in. On the floor of the washroom, between the sinks and the toilets, someone had placed a large pan of fine gravel. Over the pan a crude sign had been stuck to the wall, with one word and an arrow pointing down. It said "Cats".

"Aw Christ," the newcomer turned to the group of snickering foxes, "grow up willya?" Then turning back to the washroom he said, "I gotta go, I'll get rid of it." He went to enter but she shot one arm out, blocking his path. "Hey, come on," he begged her. "Let's just forget about it and get over to the gym. Why do you need to know who did it?"

"Because I'm going to feed it to him." Laughter erupted from the back of the group.

"Really?" A large Red Fox was pushing through to the front now, the others making way for him. He was the tallest in the group and very muscular as well. He moved with the confidence of a fighter who had never lost. When he stood before her he had to look down his long narrow snout at her. This was Nelson, formerly of the RCMP, a Golden Gloves boxer and the de-facto leader of the students.

Ophelia looked up into his golden eyes. "Really."

"And how are going to do that 'Ophelia'?" The last time someone had pronounced her name like that they had needed a lot of stitches, but Ophelia didn't move, except for her tail. Longer in ratio to their bodies than any other feline, the Cloud Leopards' tails were an essential part of their makeup, and almost had personalities of their own. Hers was arched over her head at the moment, the tip level with Nelson's eyes. As Nelson talked the tip waved in time with his words, mocking him.

He snatched at the tail, but it flipped away just before his paw closed on it. Angry now, he grabbed her by the shoulders to shove her against the wall. His mistake. Her Father, a Navy SEAL, had taught her hand-to-hand combat at a young age. One of his more valuable lessons had been to place your opponent in a vulnerable position before they could use their strengths against you. Ophelia ran backwards up the wall, pushing against the pressure form Nelson's arms, and across the ceiling. As she moved overhead she hooked one arm under his chin and the other behind his head. Once she had passed the apex she dropped to the floor in a crouch, pulling Nelson down and across her knee. The best he could do from this position was to punch himself in the face.

"Hungry Nelson?" She snarled, but paws were already pulling at her from behind as Nelson's followers tried to pull her off. Most of the others just stood and watched, only the Arctic Fox tried to intervene on her behalf.

"Hey, back off guys! He got himself into this." Then to Ophelia, "Come on, let him go. We were due at the gym five minutes ago."

Nelson had his paws on her arm now and his muscles were straining to push it up enough to free his head. Eventually he would succeed. Ophelia had only two choices, free him or finish him. She started to increase the pressure on his larynx.

"What the good hell is going on here?" A voice boomed out. The students, except the two locked on the floor, turned and stood still as a massive red Doberman in green shorts and t-shirt strode down the hall. This was 'Rusty' Nails, the Academy's combat instructor. Seeing the situation he roared again "Let him up." Ophelia reluctantly did so.

The Arctic Fox was trying to block the view through the open washroom door, but the dog stood head and shoulders taller than him and took the scene in at a glance.

He turned back to the two combatants. "I'm waiting for a damn good explanation, and if I don't hear one the classroom is going to have two more empty seats tomorrow."

"It's my fault sir." This from the Arctic Fox. Rusty turned to him and raised his brows. "She was saying that she knew this unbreakable hold and Nelson said he could break it so I started taking bets, and well, I guess things got out of hand. They're both so competitive, ya know?"

Rusty studied the Fox for a moment. "Algorath, right? Kain Algorath?" The Fox nodded. Rusty turned back to Nelson and Ophelia. "Mr. Knight, Miss Sommer, is this true?"

Ophelia shot a glance at Kain then looked the combat instructor in the eyes. "Yes, it's true."

Nelson gave her an angry look then opened his mouth to speak, but before he could the Doberman leaned in to him and said, "Cause if it isn't true, the penalty for harassing, bullying and fighting would be dismissal."

Nelson's expression changed, slightly, he was a survivor. "Sure it's true. Yep, just about to get free when you came along."

"Right." Rusty turned to the group watching. "You lot over to the gym." Facing the three remaining he continued. "But you three, didn't you read the part in the student handbook about no gambling in the residence? All three of you will have extra PT after supper in the boxing ring." Nelson smiled, anticipating a few rounds with the feline, but Rusty continued. "Sommer with Algorath, Knight with me." Nelson's smile disappeared, the Doberman was two classes above his weight and the gym was lined with his trophies. "Now clean this place up."

Rusty tuned and left. Nelson slumped off after him.

"Well, I guess that leaves you and me on cleanup detail." Kain quipped. "Nice move by the way.

The cat turned on him so fast he almost tripped trying to back up. "I can take care of myself."

"Whoa, whoa, just trying to keep the peace you know?" She's got fangs like a Sabre-Tooth he thought, and those eyes! Weird!

"Just stay away from me. I can handle things alone." She went off down the hall in the opposite direction from Nelson, hips swinging and tail waving goodbye.

"Why did you stick up for her? Because you're both Yanks?" Kain turned; Nelson was back, with a garbage bag to dump the makeshift litter box in. Kain looked back at the silhouette of the retreating feline and asked himself the same question.

"No." He replied. "I did it because no matter what else she is, she is one fine looking lady."

* * * * * * * *

After Silver was finished reviewing the rest of the student files W's secretary and bodyguard, the Poodle Mademoiselle Chienne-Caniche, notified him that the Chief of Staff would like to see Silver in his office. Silver used the connecting door and found his old friend sitting behind the antique hardwood desk. He sat in one of the comfortable chairs opposite and waited for Gold to begin.

"So, Silver, how's your p..p..p..pecker?"

"You've been listening in." Silver scolded.

"Part of the job, I'm afraid." 'Tanner' Williams grew serious. "I heard about the prognosis and I just wanted to say how sorry we all are."

"Don't be. Without the training in Bangkok it would have been a lot worse. The pain should go away in a few weeks and now I don't have to worry about any little Silver's showing up on my doorstep. Is that what you wanted to see me about?"

"Not just that, no. We've had some disturbing news about the Werewolf's intentions."

"Disturbing?" Silver was aware that all intelligence collection efforts, both here and abroad, were focused on the Werewolf at the moment. Any tidbit of information, no matter how remotely related to him, would be examined, shared and examined again.

"We have a source close to one of his bankers, a fellow who lives in Singapore known as 'The Old Bastard'. Recently he served as a go-between for the Werewolf and another of his clients, you've heard of 'The Perfect Stalker' I presume?"

Silver nodded. In this line of business the Stalker was legendary. Every government agent dreamt of taking someone like that out, but the chances of coming up against one while on a mission were slim and they didn't track them down unless they had committed political assassination in their country. Not even then sometimes, some governments liked to keep people like the Stalker around as a backup. Silver had studied all of the assassinations attributed to him as a form of professional development.

Gold continued. "The Werewolf has engaged the services of the Stalker. We believe that you are the target. The price is reputed to be one million Euros."

"That is disturbing; the fact that he's taking Euros instead of American dollars says a lot about the poor state of the North American economy."

"This isn't a joke Silver. As you well know one of his favourite tactics is to infiltrate himself or an agent into the organization for reconnaissance and to make the actual hit if possible, and we still have no idea what species the Stalker is. Some say he's a Tiger, others a Wolf or a Bear. Personally, the way he plans, I believe he could well be a Fox. So you'd better watch your back."

Silver thought of the files he had just finished reviewing and about how little they really knew about the Stalker. There were too many new faces around the Academy these days. He would indeed have to watch his back ... or get someone to watch it for him.

* * * * * * * *

Vikki was still living on the Academy grounds. She could see no point in moving into an apartment or buying a condo at this point in her life. Just turned 27 and single, the suite's single bedroom, bathroom, salon and kitchenette were enough for her needs. She could eat in the Academy cafeteria if she choose and socialize in the attached lounge. So she had taken her car out of storage and moved her belongings up from Toronto. Whatever wouldn't fit into the suite she sold or gave away, and there wasn't very much of that.

Vikki opened the door when the bell rang to find Silver standing there. She almost threw herself into his arms again then she remembered the results of the last attempt. She restrained herself and invited him in.

There was an awkward instant once he was inside and the door was closed. They had parted lovers but Vikki was uncertain as to Silver's condition and what effect that may have from this point onward. Should they embrace, kiss, shake hands? Silver seemed to sense her hesitation. He took her right paw in both of his and just smiled for a moment before dropping it and going to sit on her couch. Vikki sat beside him and his arm went around her shoulders comfortably.

"How have you been while I was gone Vikki?" Silver was concerned for her. She had been in a fragile state, sinking into depression, just a month before his disappearance. The news of his presumed death must have hit hard.

"At first I almost slipped back to where I was before that night in the garden," She answered without hesitation, one of the nicer features of their relationship had been their ability to talk openly and honestly about anything, and she didn't want that to change. "but then I realized that life goes on, no matter what happens around you. You wouldn't have wanted me to spend the rest of my life mourning. If our positions would have been reversed you would have gone on with your work, until the opportunity for revenge arose maybe, but always moving forward."

"I would have gotten drunk once a year in your honour." Silver injected.

"And shot up your room the first year like you did after Green died. Yes we heard about that. We had a little wake in the lounge a week after the raid and Gold got mellow and told a few stories. You were quite the little shit disturber back then, weren't you?"

"It's all lies, told by Gold to discredit me and steal my glory."

"Anyway," she continued, "after the initial shock wore off I was determined to be ready when the opportunity to prove myself arose." She put a paw on his thigh "Thinking that I'd lost you I put you behind me. It made me a stronger person. Damn it, I'm not saying this right."

"Yes you are," Silver spoke, "and it's okay." He shifted around and hugged her to his chest.

"Oh Silver," she said over his shoulder, "I still love you; it's just that I don't need you like I did before, as a crutch, I can stand on my own now." Suddenly she pulled back and looked at him intently. "Oh God, Silver, I forgot! How are you? How's your ...." she looked embarrassed.

"Don't start. I'm fine."

"There was a rumour that there was, well, permanent damage."

"Nothing I wouldn't have had done to myself eventually. Another month and I'll be abusing myself again. Don't worry about it." They leaned back; the moment of intimacy had passed. "So, tell me about everything that's happened since I went away. How's the new paw doing?"

Vikki demonstrated her growing control of the robotic prosthetic, picking up a plate, then a glass, then an egg, all without breaking anything. Tossing the egg in the air and trying to catch it however, required several paper towels to clean up. She told him of how hard she had been training and about her illness, which still wasn't going away. Silver questioned her like a doctor would about her symptoms, nodding his head as she detailed the aches and swellings she had suffered lately. Afterwards she told him of how they had found out that he was alive and the plan that had led to his rescue. He had to laugh as she told how Marcel had described his face when he found out about the skateboard escape run, and how Delores 'Baby Doll' Johnson had seduced the Colonel into parking just where she wanted.

"What did he do when he saw the dent?" Silver asked.

"Oh, he didn't see that until the next day. When they got to the castle he took one look at the smoking hole where the gate was and the bodies all around and drove to a hotel 100 kilometres back the way they had come. 'We never made it there' he told Delores, 'we stopped here because of the rain.' When he saw the dent she blamed it on hooligans, no discipline since the collapse of the Soviet Union type of thing. He bought it, or at least decided that that was better than admitting they had been at the castle. Delores doesn't see much of him anymore. Can't take the excitement I guess."

Silver chuckled at the thought of a Russian full Colonel afraid of the busty and outgoing Delores. She was a peach. He had leaned his head on Vikki's shoulder while she talked, and now his paw was idly playing with the fur on her belly where it was exposed between her loose blouse and pants. There seemed to be no more need to talk.

Vikki hugged his head tightly to her chest, a wave of affection passing through her. After she relaxed Silver shifted around and back so that his head was above her and his arms were around her shoulders. He leaned down and kissed her tenderly. She returned the kiss, and they continued the exchange for several minutes.

"Silver ... can you ... are you all healed now?" She asked, looking up into eyes that now shone a soft blue, with only a trace of grey on the rims.

"Not enough for that." He replied. "But mom always said that my paws were my best feature."

"Really, your mother said that."

"Sure. She wanted me to play the piano. Allow me to demonstrate." Silver ran his fingers up and down her chest while humming a classical tune she almost recognized. On the longer passages her continued down one leg. When he reached the crescendo his paws dove under her arms and tickled her mercilessly. Vikki was rolling and laughing on the couch, trying to defend herself. Silver was laughing like a fool too, another first.

Slowly their laughter subsided as they gazed at each other. One of his paws had found its way to the inside of her thigh, the other was on her breast; he could feel the nipple harden below it. Her right paw was against his cheek, then behind his neck as she pulled him down to her waiting lips.

They kissed continuously while his paws undid buttons and loosened buckles; lips pressed hard against the other's, tongues battling. She reached behind him and unstrapped her left paw, placing it on the table beside her. He found the clasp at the front of her bra and then she felt the cool air strike them, making the nipples raise even more. She tugged at Silver's shirt, too impatient to wait for him to undo more than the top button, pulling it over his head, she kissed his chest as he raised his arms to finish removing it.

Now Vikki was laying back against the couch, her blouse open and he breasts free for Silver to kiss them, to suck on them, to lick them. His one arm was behind her, reaching around to caress her, the other was between her jeans and her panties, rubbing back and forth through the thin material that was already becoming damp. Vikki had a flash back to her senior year of High School, hadn't Daniel Newman's mother caught them in a similar position?

Silver continued uninterrupted by motherly intervention. His paw had found the edge of her sodden panties and had pulled it across, exposing the swollen vulva and the rosy lips that were just starting to protrude from it. Still constrained by her jeans his paw could barely move, the fingers had to do the bulk of the work. One finger was centred on the opening, those beside it between the inner and outer lips. The middle digit began to sink in with each stroke, curling as it descended, until it disappeared. Once inside the tip felt for the spongy area above and taped it each time it moved past.

Vikki was breathing heavily now. Her knees coming up as her hips moved in sync with Silvers paw. His tongue was rimming her nipples as she was plucking at the fur on his back. He lifted his head and locked his blazing blue eyes on hers, increasing the rhythm down below. The pad at the base of his thumb was pressing down on her clit, mashing it against her bones, forcing the flesh around it to part and expose its tender surface to his rough skin.

Her mouth hung open now, her breath coming in quick gasps. Silver drew his finger out of her until it found her aching clit and used her juices to sooth it, circling it, dipping back inside for more. The hard mound responded, growing and lifting out of its fleshy bed as he teased it. He watched her eyes for signs that she was approaching the end, and when their focus changed as if she was looking right through him he bore down hard, the pad of his finger circling one way then the other rapidly. Vikki flung her arms around his head and locked her mouth on his to stifle her scream as insides exploded.

Silver rode her down like a spooked filly, slowing his paw, spreading the digits and retracting them, massaging the liquid fire back into her. When she released his head he shook it to straighten his neck out again then looked down to see her gazing back at him with an angelic look on her face. He pulled his paw free and rotated his wrist to relax the cramp that had developed there.

"Now tell me that you don't need that anymore." He joked.

"Well, I must say that it was the most fun I've ever had without taking my pants off." She poked his chest as she continued, "But a far cry from my previous lover."

"We'll see about that." Silver picked her up from the couch and cradled her in his arms as he carried her toward the bedroom.

"Your mother favour any of your other parts?"

"No, but my Grandmother always said that I was a silver-tongued devil."

* * * * * * * *

Ophelia returned to the residence late that night tired and sore. The sparring session with the Arctic Fox Algorath had proved rougher than she had anticipated; he was in surprisingly good shape and boxing gloves cramped her style. She had however had the pleasure of watching Rusty teach Nelson the difference between boxing with a referee and without, but the look Nelson had given her as he crawled out of the ring told her that the trouble with him wasn't over yet.

When she was alone in her room with the door closed she went to her bed and bent down beside it. She pulled her trunk out from under the bed squatted before it. She checked that the dial of the combination lock was still in the same place as she had left it, that the three hairs she had stuck down to seal the lid were still in place and that the talcum powder on the latches had not been disturbed. Satisfied, she dialled in her combination and opened the chest.

Inside were a number of personnel items: souvenirs, mementos, a personal laptop computer, and a locked metal box. She went through a similar inspection of this box's security before taking a key from its hiding place inside her brassiere and inserting it in the lock.

The box held only three items: a name tag, 'SOMMER' in gold on a blue camouflage background; a metal oval with a black plastic rim and a chain that also said 'SOMMER', but it included a first name and initial, a service number, a blood type and a religion; the final item was a five-inch by seven-inch colour photograph.

The photograph showed a male Cloud Leopard, quite muscular, wearing a grey t-shirt with a discrete Navy SEAL logo on the breast. He was grinning into the camera and making an obscene gesture at the broad-shouldered Fox that he had his other arm around. The bare-chested Fox, who also had an arm around the Leopard, was saluting the photographer with a stubby brown beer bottle. The brand name of the beer was 'Canadian', and so was the Fox. He looked a little drunk; his blue-grey eyes were shiny and glazed.

The photo was somewhat ruined by the red 'X' drawn across the fox's face, the dripping slit drawn across his throat, the oozing bullet holes drawn on his chest and the crude knife drawn sticking into his stomach. A single tear landed on the image of her father and Ophelia blotted it away with the edge of her shirt before it could soak in. Doing so erased the 'X' on the fox. She carefully redrew it before putting the photo back in the box and reversing the process to secure her belongings.

Ophelia lay on her stomach and fell asleep instantly, but her tail stayed sticking up, the tip waving slowly to and fro, for another hour.

* * * * * * * *

The sun coming through her bedroom window roused Vikki the next morning. Eyes still crusted shut with sleep she reached around for Silver but couldn't find him in her bed. There was something different on the table beside her bed though. She peered at a yellow haze, trying to bring her eyes into focus. A bowl full of yellow globes with nipples on them; a bowl of canary tits? She sat up and rubbed her eyes.

She looked again. It was a bowl of lemons, with a wooden-handled knife and a note beside it. She lifted the paper and read, "Every morning before you get out of bed, take a lemon and cut it in half along the equator." A crude diagram illustrated how to cut the lemons. "Give each half a slight squeeze and then put them back in the bowl while you do 15 minutes of the deep breathing exercises I taught you. That should take care of the nausea." It was signed with a single 'S'

How had Silver managed to get a bowl of lemons during the night? What a strange fellow I've taken up with, she thought as she dutifully cut open a lemon and lay back breathing in through her nose for five seconds, holding it in for five more, releasing it slowly through her mouth for five, holding there before inhaling for five, and then repeating the sequence for a full 15 minutes. At the end she felt clear headed and peaceful, and there was no trace of the nausea that had plagued her the last few weeks. Whether it was the lemon or the breathing, or both, she didn't care. She would continue to do this every morning until the cafeteria ran out of lemons.

* * * * * * * *

It was late afternoon in Europe, late morning in Ottawa, and the Werewolf sat patiently in another of Lao Huidan's Tilia Life enterprises. Soon enough, Lao came and led him through the layers of security that ended in a Spartan room. This time the Werewolf had chosen a Wolf avatar, very similar to his real appearance. He was surprised to find another Wolf waiting for him.

"Where is the Stalker?" He demanded.

"I am the Stalker." The other Wolf replied. "I don't restrict myself to one avatar, and the Tiger attracts too much attention to use when I'm working. You look more impressive, maybe too impressive, to memorable. I suggest that you scale it down a bit for our next meeting." The Werewolf noted that the Stalker's avatar was not as animated as at their previous meeting, and he mentioned this to the Stalker.

"I only have rudimentary controls with me when I'm working. You seem to be handling yourself much better."

"I invested in new hardware." the Werewolf acknowledged, but didn't admit that he had also spent many hours practising before this meeting; his ego would not allow him to appear weaker even in a virtual world. He grew tiered of the small talk.

"I need to start up my operation again soon. When will it be safe to do so?" Meaning when would Silver be dead.

The Stalker understood the implication. "I have managed to infiltrate their compound, but I don't have access to their most secure areas, where the target is off his guard. I still need to learn more about his habits before making an attempt. We want to be certain the first time, don't we?"

"Just remember, there's more than money at stake here for you. Your reputation is on the line also." The Werewolf snarled.

The Stalker allowed his avatar to smile. How astute of the old Wolf. He wondered if it would be considered solicitation to offer to kill the Werewolf for the Canadians after he killed Silver. Solicitation was illegal, after all.

"Don't worry Werewolf. I have never failed and I don't intend to start. Now, you must excuse me, I have to get back before I am missed."

The Stalker's avatar didn't move. The Werewolf walked up to it and waved a paw in its face. When there was no response he pinched its nose. He could feel the pressure with his new feedback devices, but the other avatar did not react.

"He's gone, cut the connection." Lao Huidan had come in silently while he examined the other wolf.

Damn these people, he thought, why can't we meet in a real smoky bar in Morocco, like in the good old days?