FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

FOX Academy:

Book I - The New Breed

Book II - The Werewolf of Odessa

The Werewolf of Odessa - Chapter 6 - The Game is Baccarat

Vikki arrived at the Odessa Airport late on a chilly autumn morning. After picking up her luggage, clearing customs and being interviewed at immigration she made her way to the arrivals platform. She had been told that Marcel would meet her there with a car and she expected to see him standing on the platform waiting for her; but he was nowhere to be seen. Several taxi drivers tried to engage her commerce, as did a few fellow travellers after taking in the tall, slim sexy vixen in the designer trench coat. The Ukraine was rapidly becoming known as the sex tourist destination of choice in Europe and lovely unescorted females were generally assumed to be retailers. Vikki ignored both approaches, but she was becoming worried.

If Marcel didn't show soon she would have to contact the resident agent directly. She had a list of fairly safe hotels she could book herself into before initiating contact, but lacking an international driver's permit she would have to hire a taxi to get to one. She had just about decided to go back into the lobby and find the currency exchange desk when she noticed the line of limousines parked at the far end of the platform, in the VIP arrivals area. Marcel could be posing as a limo driver, she thought.

Most of the drivers held out signs with the customer name or the destination on them. The drivers, all males, angled their signs at Vikki as she passed, hoping that she would be their customer, but they were all strangers to her. Some of the drivers were gathered together smoking and talking, obviously their customer's flights hadn't arrived yet. Vikki didn't see Marcel amongst them either. Giving up, she turned back for the lobby.

"Miss Victoria Volpe?"

Vikki turned casualty, but with muscles tensed, ready for anything. A small brown squirrel in a chauffeur's uniform that she hadn't noticed before was standing behind her, holding a sign for the Vovkulak casino. That was indeed her ultimate destination, and Victoria Volpe was the cover name that she was using.

"I was expecting someone else." She addressed the Squirrel in English.

"Mister Anthony sends his regrets for not being here to greet you himself. He sends you this note." The Squirrel held out a small gilded envelope.

Vikki examined it. Embossed on the front of the envelope was the name of the casino 'Vovkulak' and a stylized set of fangs that could be read as two 'V's or a single 'W'. It was only folded shut, not sealed. Inside she found a second, blank, envelope of a type familiar to her. She unsealed it and pulled the single square of paper that it contained out; it too was blank. She quickly put it back and closed the envelope, counting to herself. After fifteen seconds, she pulled the paper out again; now the FOX logo could be seen as a watermark in the lower right corner of the square. The signal meant that it was okay to trust the Squirrel. The proper logo would only appear after a short exposure to light and a set period of darkness. Vikki put the paper back, it would be blank the next time it was brought out, and pocketed the envelope. Playing the important client, she indicated her luggage.

"Shall we go then?"

Once on the road the Squirrel introduced himself.

"My name is Aleksy Lutsenko, I have the pleasure of working for your agency here. We have no resident agent; your office in Moscow controls us. Delores Johnson is my contact. She visits and we ... exchange communications."

Knowing how 'Baby Doll' Johnson liked to communicate, Vikki had no doubt that the Squirrel enjoyed working for her. Aleksy informed her that 'Mr Anthony', Marcel, would meet them at the entrance to the casino, where he had booked a suite for them. No, he did not know why her fellow agent had not met her at the airport or why he was taking rooms in the casino itself.

Vikki shuddered. She was counting on taking a couple of days in isolation to coach the young fox on some of the finer points of etiquette, like how to stand up straight and why it's considered rude to stab people who disagree with you. Imagining Marcel in his habitual baggy, low-slung jeans, high riding boxers and hoodies, she wondered if he had even managed to get past the doorman to check in.

The limo pulled up at the main entrance to the casino. Aleksy hurried around to open the door for her then went to fetch the luggage. The casino was a modern building with a classic facade of white marble. A short flight of stairs led from the entrance to the lobby, where the doorman, the largest Badger that she had ever seen, stood guard. Two bellhops rushed down to assist the Squirrel with the luggage, sensing a generous tip from the sensuous Vixen. Vikki looked around at the clientele in their trendy clothes and opulent jewellery; Marcel would have stood out like a sore thumb, and there did not appear to be any thumbs present.

"Ahem."

Vikki looked up. Standing beside the doorman at the top of the stairs was Marcel, or at least she thought it was Marcel. He looked down at her, not with that shy smile that she had gotten used to seeing around the academy, but with the confident grin of someone who has pulled off the unexpected.

He was dressed in the same manner as always, but different. His outfit was a caricature of his former street clothes, but an exquisite one. Black baggy pants made of fine wool with a stripe of silk down each seam. Silk shorts that were pulled three inches above them, printed with a famous designer's logo. The t-shirt shone as the sun reflected off the metallic threads that formed a similar design, and the cashmere hoodie bore a third copy. The cap he wore reversed on his head was from a different designer, one accustomed to using numerous diamond chips to highlight his work; and the shoes were a match for the cap. Sunglasses that would have cost more than the combined value of everything that Marcel had ever previously owned completed the picture.

Vikki moved up the stairs in a trance and took the paw he held out.

"Victoria, right on time." Marcel turned to the doorman and addressed him in a haughty tone. "Augustyn, see that Miss Volpe's bags are brought to the suite." Marcel peeled a bright note off a roll of bills and slipped it into the Badger's pocket. "And take care of the bellboys, willya?" A second note followed the first.

Vikki avoided the bustling bellboys and ignored the knowing stares as she let Marcel lead her into the casino. He signalled that she should remain silent for now and headed to the elevators. The operator greeted him like Marcel was a favoured client of many years and brought the elevator to the top floor without waiting for instructions. The penthouse had a separate concierge to provide security as well as to cater to the needs of the casino's special guests, and she raced ahead to open the door to one of the suites for them. Marcel assured her that everything was in order and that they would require nothing but privacy for the next hour. The concierge blushed and smiled as the door closed behind her.

They were alone now, but Marcel signalled that she should remain silent. He crossed the suite's living room and turned on what looked like a portable music device in a speaker dock. The room filled with music. Vikki recognized one of Tchaikovsky's piano concertos.

"Now we can talk." He said, and motioned to the device. "Something Joel the Lemur sent over. The sub frequencies are calibrated to resonate with the natural frequencies of our voices, which FOX has on file, cancelling them out. You, me and Aleksy are programmed into it. He could'a picked better music though."

"What gives Marcel? Weren't you supposed to meet me at the airport with a car?"

"The Professor miscalculated. He used my Academy profile when he was making his plans." Seeing Vikki's puzzled look he continued. "You guys all came in through the front door. Had to have all your credentials before they offered you a slot in the school, then they trained you up on everything else. Silver brought me in the back way. No papers, no diplomas, no permits. Had to fake both my real identity as well as my cover before the HR department would start paying me."

Vikki still didn't get it, and said so.

"I can't drive, okay!" Marcel almost shouted. "The database says I got my licence and as 'Anthony Fox' I got an international drivers permit so I can rent cars but it doesn't do much good to rent 'em if you can't drive 'em does it?" Marcel's vocabulary was regressing in his embarrassment. Vikki felt sorry for him.

Just them the doorbell rang to announce the arrival of their luggage. Personally supervised by Augustyn the doorman, three bellboys scurried in and headed for the master bedroom, but Marcel directed them to the Suite's second bedroom. Giggling, they complied. Aleksy stood by the door until they were done.

"Would you have any further use of me today Mister Anthony?" The Squirrel asked.

"Yes, come inside and wait, I'll be right with you." Marcel closed the door behind the departing entourage. "Thank you Augustyn."

Once the door was closed Aleksy relaxed and the three of them sat down in the living room. Vikki turned back to Marcel.

"So, fill me in on where we're at with the plan now."

Marcel explained how he had been delayed in Bern (or Berne) by the Otter without going into the soggy details. Unable play the chauffeur he had wired ahead for transportation assistance and come up with another role for himself.

"It was Alvilda who gave me the idea. We were passing a poster for one of those hip-hop artists all covered in bling and babes and she said 'A famous skateboarder like you should be dressing like that guy'. So, we hit the shops and a tailor Sharon knew about and viola, one more suddenly rich, obnoxious show off from the entertainment industry hits the casinos to spread the love around."

"Jesus Marcel," Vikki moaned, "Silver's going to castrate you and sell your balls to pay for all this when the accountants back at headquarters present him with the unauthorized payment slip."

"Naw," Marcel had his confidence back, "I checked with Gold first. It seems that the Academy has been making a little profit off my cover character's tours, even an endorsement deal that I was unaware of. The expenses for keeping up this image are coming from that account." He settled back in his chair.

"Is this the casino where White was killed?" She asked.

"Yes, the very same." Aleksy answered. "The Vovkulak; its name means 'Werewolf' in Ukrainian. The owner calls himself 'Vasyl Vovkulak', King Werewolf."

"I've heard the name Vasyl before," Marcel added, "in Cyprus. Vasyl Timoshenko was the Werewolf of Odessa. Are these two the same Wolf?"

"No one knows." Aleksy shrugged. "The owner has a private suite on this floor and sees no one publicly. We have been watching since your agency alerted us last year. At first not so closely as it was thought to be simple money laundering, but since the death of your agent White we have had constant surveillance."

"What was White doing when he was killed?" Vikki enquired.

"He too noted the similarity to the Werewolf names. He was trying to work his way close to the owner to confirm that they were one and the same. He pretended to be in the market for missile secrets, claiming that he had heard of someone in the casino that could provide them. It turned out to be the wrong approach."

Vikki recalled the grisly photos the Academy had on file and the detailed autopsy report; wrong approach indeed.

"Too bad Silver isn't here," She mused, "he could identify him."

Marcel bristled. "Don't forget that I've met Timoshenko's granddaughter," and killed her, he added to himself. "Maybe there will be some family resemblance?" He turned to Aleksy. "You said that White screwed up trying to connect the dots from the missile end. How do you get close to the casino owner version of the Werewolf?"

"You gamble, Mister Anthony, you gamble."

* * * * * * * *

And gamble they did, with Aleksy the Squirrel in his chauffeur's uniform by their side. Marcel bet recklessly, occasionally winning at long odds, but inevitably loosing it on the next bet. Vikki, with her gambling experience from working Vice and the Bike Squad, bet carefully. Both of them bet in steadily increasing amounts. Soon they were the darlings of the casino; Marcel for his flamboyance and the large amounts he was dropping on the house, Vikki for her cool demeanour and steadily increasing stack of chips.

After five straight hours, they took a break to eat and check their progress. They were amazed to find that between them they were little ahead of the house. While they sipped coffee one of the casino employees approached.

"The owner would like the pleasure of your company for an evening of gambling. He would be honoured to receive you at 9:00 o'clock in suite number one."

"I don't know. What's the game?" Marcel played it cool, although he was thrilled that the ploy had worked.

The messenger cleared his throat and gave Marcel a look of old world distaste. "Ahem, the game is Baccarat Banque, but the invitation was not for you sir. It was for the young lady." He smiled at Vikki.

"We're together." She replied.

"Of course your escort may accompany you, to watch." With a flip of his tail, the messenger was off.

"Hmmph." Marcel was put out, having been firmly slotted into the category of 'boy toy'. He glanced sideways at Vikki, who was deep in thought, and wished that it were only true. "So what is this game 'Pack-a-Rat Bunk' anyways? I've never heard of it."

"The game is pronounced 'Back-a-ra', the 'T' is silent," Aleksy spoke up, "and 'Banque' is French for bank. It is an old game played for high stakes." He turned to Vikki. "This is rare honour, Madam. It usually takes some time before the owner invites someone up. He must be quite taken with you."

Marcel grew protective. "Maybe it's not so good an idea to go so soon. Maybe we can wait until they play a real game, like Texas Hold'em."

Now both Vikki and Aleksy were giving him that pitying look.

"I know the game." Vikki said. "I went to dealer's school when I worked Vice. Baccarat was popular with the European gangs."

"How's it played?" Marcel asked.

"Everyone starts with two cards face down. You can get one more card face up. The cards two to nine are worth face value, tens and face cards are worth zero and Aces are worth one. You calculate your score by taking the sum of all cards and ignoring the tens digit. For example, a hand consisting of a two and a three is worth five, however a hand consisting of a six and a seven is worth only three instead of thirteen. Any hand that adds up to ten or twenty is called 'Baccarat', the worst hand, worth zero. The highest score that can be achieved is nine. If a player is dealt eight or nine at the onset he flips the cards over and no one can draw a third card. If the bank has a higher score it wins and the money becomes part of the stake. Nobody wins on a tie."

"The strategy is to look at what you have and figure the odds. Each player in turn has the option to take another card face up. Generally, if your score is six or seven you refuse the card and if you have baccarat to four you take it. Five is the pivot point where the odds are equal that you will improve or decrease our score. The bank has the advantage because it goes last and has seen what each player choose to do and what they received. A good banker can calculate your points based on how you played."

"In Baccarat Banque the banker is usually the player willing to put up the largest amount of money. Some banks play each side of the table as one entity; others deal to every punter who has put up a stake. Each casino has its own local rules; we'll be able to get a copy from the desk. Any player can 'go bank' and challenge the bank for the whole amount of the stake. They can either do so in a single hand or split the stake into two and play two hands. If they lose, the bank has the option of doubling the stakes and the loser has the right to go bank again, before giving the option to any other player. The stakes can get awfully high very quickly."

"Sounds pretty simple." Marcel scoffed.

"I'll get a deck and we can warm up in your suite." Aleksy signalled the waiter for the bill.

They played for points, each starting with five million. After an hour, Aleksy, playing the bank, was down to a million points and Marcel was broke. Vikki had her original five, Marcel's five and four of Aleksy's. They switched around, allowing her to practice as the banker. The results were the same, only quicker. Marcel suspected that Vikki and Aleksy were in collusion. Confident that she could hold her own, Vikki contacted Gold and he authorized a credit line of five million Euros.

Vikki and Marcel cleaned up and changed into formal evening dress on Aleksy's recommendation. Vikki wore a gown cut low in front and lower in back, dipping to a 'Vee' just under her tail. Marcel wondered how she it kept from slipping down her ass, and if she was wearing anything under it. She wore matching opera gloves to cover her artificial paw. Her other accessories included baroque pearl earrings that contained a receiver and a transmitter. Aleksy would remain in the suite, but listen in, ready to support them in an emergency or exploit any opportunity that arose.

At 9:00 pm sharp they left and their suite and crossed the penthouse lobby to knock on the door of suite number one. They were greeted by Augustyn, the large Badger who worked as the doorman during the day. Tonight he was dressed in a tuxedo that didn't conceal either his paunch or the gun in the holster under his arm. He nodded to them and escorted them into the suite's salon.

It was much larger than their suite, with comfortable chairs and couches against the walls and a large kidney-shaped table in the centre. Arranged around the table were ten chairs. Cards and racks of chips stood ready.

A number of other guests had already arrived and were serving themselves from the bar near the entrance to the kitchen. Augustyn suggested that they too should serve themselves, or they could help themselves to the anything in the kitchen while they waited for their host. Vikki and Marcel mingled with the group while Augustyn returned to the door to greet other guests.

They were a diverse lot. An Elkhound from Germany that had made his fortune in shipbuilding was there with his mate. A famous but ageing feline actress, recently revealed as gay, was there with her partner, a Sheep barely out of lambhood. A Panda who would only confirm that he was from China was alone. An ancient and formidable Grand Dame Poodle from Paris leaned on the arm of a young Spanish Ram. She smiled knowingly when she found that Vikki, not Marcel, was there to play; the Ram seemed very interested in Marcel, however. A Saudi Dessert Rat, a Japanese Macaque and an American Senator, another Fox, were all escorted by the type of lady that charges by the hour.

Their host kept them waiting until 9:30; a tactic to get them drinking, Vikki wondered? He emerged from the inner suite dressed in a sky blue suit that complimented his greying fur. Vikki recalled that the Werewolf was in his eighties, but it was hard to tell how old this specimen was. He was big, even for a Wolf, with a body-builder's physique, and could have been anywhere from sixty to a well-preserved ninety. When he introduced himself to her, he squeezed her arm seductively and planted a kiss on both sides of her snout in the European fashion, but Vikki could see the cold light of cruelty in his eyes.

Marcel, who had been silent and sulky up until now, suddenly became gregarious. He only came up to the Wolf's chest and weighed about half as much but he waded in as if he had found a long lost relative. He grasped the Wolf's paw and forearm and pumped it like he was hoping for oil to spout. He laughed and poked the wolf in the stomach and called him 'Bubba'. The Wolf tolerated the familiarity for a minute then shook of the annoying little Fox.

While the Wolf greeted the last of the guests Marcel slid up beside Vikki and whispered into the ear with the transmitter, "That's the Werewolf."

Aleksy's voice buzzed in her other ear. "Ask him if he is certain." She did.

"I pulled his sleeve back while I was pumping his arm. He has a number tattooed on the inside of his left forearm; the same number as his granddaughter. She said he got it during the war when he was pretending to be Jewish to escape the Soviets and got intercepted by the Germans. They slapped that on him before they discovered his knowledge of the Soviet missile program and he went to work for them."

"I'll notify headquarters, Aleksy out." Her earring went silent.

After the introductions, they sat around the table as indicated by the Badger. The Werewolf sat in the hollow of the Kidney and Augustyn sat opposite, where the cards and chips were stacked. Four guests sat on each side of the table. Augustyn mixed the cards and distributed the chips while the Werewolf proceeded to review the house rules.

"First of all, as you are aware I like to keep these games formal, as befitting a duel of the minds. So please address me as Mister Vovkulak, and I shall address you in a similar manner. As this is my home as well as my place of business, there will be one change in the rules involving the passing of the bank; it will not pass. I have the funds of my casino to draw upon as well as a personal fortune, so the bank will never run out of money. The players may retire anytime after their initial bets, but if they are ahead, they must give me one last hand, double or nothing, to recoup my funds. Play will continue until all the players have dropped out, gone broke or I decide to retire."

The Werewolf looked to each player for his or her acknowledgement before continuing. "One more thing. To be fair, if you go broke I will give you another chance to regain your funds. The terms and conditions to be agreed on at that time and followed to the letter." His voice rose at the end, and his eyes shone with that disturbing light. Vikki hoped that she would not have to resort to that option.

Play began after each player had a chance to shuffle the cards with Vovkulak staking one million. Marcel and the other escorts arranged themselves behind the players, ready to fetch drinks, light cigarettes or do other menial chores. Almost immediately, the Saudi called "Banco", indicating that he was willing to go for the bank. Vovkulak dealt them both a pair a cards face down. The Dessert Rat glanced at his and accepted a third card; it was a four. Odds were that he had no more than eight. The Werewolf looked at his cards and flipped them over, a two and a six for eight. The Saudi signed and turned up his cards, a nine and a five. With the second four he had a total of eight also, a tie.

The Rat declined to go to the bank again, but now that the ice was broken, more players joined the game. The Werewolf had invited players of varying skills and incomes. Some, like the Saudi, seemed to also have unlimited funds and while skilled, he bet extravagantly and often lost large amounts. Others, like Vikki and the Poodle, bet cautiously and steadily increased their holdings. The Panda hardly bet at all, and then only in small amounts; Vikki wondered what he had come for. The Actress had no head for the cards at all and was broke within two hours.

"Vovkulak, darling." She crooned, and the Werewolf bristled at the omission of the 'Mister'. "You said that you would give me a chance to win back all my loses. What's it to be? Double or nothing on a cut of the cards?"

Vovkulak thought for a minute. "One more hand of Baccarat, just you and I. If you win I will give you back all of your money and you must leave, but if you lose it will cost thirty minutes in the bedroom."

The actress stretched, baring her claws. "I think that if I could play straight for all those years I can manage an encore."

"Not you, you old hag." Vovkulak spat. "Your partner."

She looked over her shoulder to where her partner sat. The young Sheep was a natural beauty, as the actress had once, been before hard work harder living and Father Time had all taken their toll. The Ewe stared back with eyes wide and mouth agape, and managed a tiny shake of her head.

The actress turned back to face Vovkulak, her lips tight and her brow furrowed in thought.

"Alright," she declared, ignoring the gasp behind her, "but nothing kinky, no devices, aids or hitting."

"Agreed." The Werewolf dealt out the cards.

The actress peeked at hers. She put them down and looked at Vovkulak, looked at her cards again. Vikki felt sad for her partner. Finally, the feline asked for another card, it was a three. The Werewolf declined another card. Vikki assumed that the actress had eight, seven at the worst. When the actress turned up her cards she exposed a two and another three, for a total of eight, the second best hand possible. She smiled at her host, but Vikki thought that she smiled too soon.

Vovkulak turned over a king and a nine. A natural, and a win.

The Werewolf stood and stretched, declaring an hour break. The actress was huddled with her partner, who looked stricken and kept shaking her head. Finally, she stood and led her over to Vovkulak.

"Where is the bedroom?" She asked in an icy voice.

"Augustyn will show her." The Werewolf replied. Then he turned to the panda and addressed him. "Mister Zhang, we can talk in my office. An hour should be sufficient, yes?"

"Hey Vovkulak," the actress interrupted. "What about your thirty minutes? I'm not hanging about here all night waiting for you to get it up."

Vovkulak turned slowly toward her, a smirk on his face. "I never said that the thirty minutes would be with me. Augustyn will entertain her, won't you Augustyn?" The huge badger paused at the entrance to the bedroom, holding the Sheep by her upper arms, and grinned back at his boss. "What is it you call that thing that you like to do to the ladies Augustyn? The one where their orgasm is heightened by strangulation? Oh, never mind what it's called; just remember, use only your paws, no devices or aids allowed, and yes, no hitting either." The Werewolf chuckled as he led Mister Zhang to his office.

There was a moment of confusion as the actress rushed to the bedroom door and it slammed in her face. As she slid down it, pounding on it weakly with her paw, Marcel lurched from the chair he had occupied, knocking several empty glasses over. Marcel staggered over to the Wolf and attempted to grab his lapels, but missed and ended up leaning on the astounded Mister Zhang.

"You are a bastard, 'Mister' Vovkulak." Marcel slurred, and the Panda was almost overcome by the fumes. Vikki rushed to pull Marcel off him.

"Such rude people these Americans." Vovkulak quipped as they disappeared into his office.

"Canadian actually, you prick." Marcel mumbled as Vikki led him to a couch. "Take me home old girl. I've had enough fun and frivolity for one night." She angled toward the door and held it open for him.

Marcel could barely walk across the hall to their suite but once inside he straightened up and headed for the living room where Aleksy was monitoring. Realizing that the drunken display was an act, Vikki asked him what he had done.

"I slipped a bug onto Mister Zhang's lapel. He didn't come to gamble; he's been pissing himself with anxiety waiting for a chance to talk to the Werewolf alone. You picking anything up Aleksy?"

Aleksy nodded. "Best that you get back before you are missed Miss Victoria." He advised. Vikki headed back to the Werewolf's suite.

* * * * * * * *

The Ewe trembled as the bedroom door closed behind her. Darling, the actress wanted to be called Darling after one of her famous movie rolls, had scolded her before going to the Wolf's bedroom with the repulsive Badger.

"You've done this before Ellie, before I took you in." Darling had said. "You screwed every producer and director's assistant from Disneyland to Pasadena trying to get into the business. He's just an old fart with one last shot in him. Probably won't even be able to get it up and in before the time's up. Do this for me."

Ellie had felt shock and betrayal. She had given everything up for Darling. She had stopped sleeping around, stopped taking recreational drugs, stopped drinking and even changed her diet for the old Cat. She kept herself in good shape so that Darling would be proud of her, and she had done everything that Darling had asked her to do in order to prove her love; right up to now.

Their relationship was based on love, at least on Ellie's part, and until this moment, she thought on Darling's part also. Oh, Darling could be a selfish, self-centred, demanding bitch when she wanted to, no doubt about that; but Ellie had put up with it all because she thought that the feelings she had for her were reciprocal. The scene at the door had shattered that illusion.

The cry of despair, the rush to the door, arriving a split second too late, the weak pounding and the tears; she had seen it all before. Darling had first played that scene in one of her early movies, as a lover abandoned by a soldier off to war. Later, in the role of Darling, a prostitute whose true love leaves in disgust when he finds out, the scene won her an Oscar. Ellie had seen Darling play the same scene when her ex-husband refused to finance her comeback. It was what Darling did when she wanted people to see her being dramatic. She hadn't really cared about the outcome; but the sympathetic stories from the strategically pre-positioned paparazzi had earned her a spot on Leno.

Now here she was, trembling before a Neanderthal Badger with a taste for inflicting erotic asphyxia. He stood before her, head and shoulders above her, twice as wide and three times as heavy, his lips slack and moist, his eyes bloodshot and protruding. He lifted his handpaws to his jacket ... and pulled out a deck of cards and reading glasses.

"So young lady, what will it be?" He asked in a pleasant baritone. "Poker, Gin Rummy, Go Fish?"

"Wha ...what are you ta ...talking about." Ellie asked in confusion.

"What do you want to do for thirty minutes? Play cards, talk, watch TV?" The Badger raised his brows inquisitively.

"Are you kidding me? Is this like, to lull me into trusting you before you brutally rape me?"

"No. The bet was thirty minutes in the bedroom. No one said anything about sex. Of course, everybody is going to think that's what happened, and your partner certainly thought that when she agreed on the bet. You see the beauty of Vovkulak's plan? All the angst with none of the mess." The Badger went to put his paw on her arm but she cringed and he froze.

"Oh wait, I see." His voice loud and angry now. "You think that I'm the brutal henchman, the sadistic beast who has to be restrained from killing and does all the dirty work, don't you." The Badger sat down on the bed and sighed. "It's my looks. I'm built like an ogre and look like Quasimodo. I even scare my own children." He looked at Ellie sadly. "Would you guess that I practised Family Law in Kiev before taking this job? I was pretty good too, but judges and juries don't trust a client whose lawyer looks like he molests children in his spare time. I had to take the doorman job and deal cards for Vovkulak at night just to make ends meet." He bowed his head; Ellie thought she saw a tear in one eye.

"Now, now." She sat beside him and patted his head. "I'm sure your wife loves you."

"She did." He was sobbing openly now. "She died two years ago. Now my mother watches the children while I work. I hardly see them at all. They think their father is a monster." He wailed in anguish.

"Shhh. Don't cry. Come here." Ellie gave him a big hug, as much of him as she could anyways.

"You and the actress," he sniffed as his tears dried, "you have been together more than a year?"

"Yesss, why?"

"You both residents of California?"

"Uh huh. What's the point?"

"If you split now you're entitled to half of her income for the time you have been together, half of all goods and chattels purchased for family purposes, houses and cars included, and everything she gave you as gifts. With a good lawyer you could take her to the laundry."

"The cleaners, Augustyn, take her to the cleaners." She sat and considered what he had said. "What kind of grounds would I need to sue her for mental anguish or something?"

"Well, let's see. Playing on your affection to force you to have sex to pay off a bet, that's a good enough reason. Vovkulak would gladly swear out a disposition to that effect, she disgusts him. He only invited her to do something like this to her. Of course, the court will want physical evidence, but you can claim that you were too distraught to go to the police here and that by the time you got back to America it was too late. I would go and testify that I did it, but then they would charge me and who would feed my children?"

She thought hard. Darling had been partially right, Ellie had used sex as a way to a means in the past. Funny how she only really got screwed by the person she hadn't done that to. She made up her mind.

"If it's evidence they want then it's evidence they'll get." She stood and crossed her arms, gripped the both sides of her pullover and pulled it off over her head in one smooth motion. She stood in front of the seated badger, one hip cocked, short skirt riding high on her thighs, naked from the waist up.

"Let's do this Augustyn."

Augustyn was not a monster, but he was male. He has seen countless artificially enhanced busts come in the front doors of the casino, and helped the ladies cover them up again after a night in Vovkulak's suite, but this was one hundred percent pure tender lamb. So what if it wasn't virgin wool? He began to unbutton his shirt.

Ellie lifted one large breast and bent her head to lick the nipple. Augustyn's fingers moved faster on the buttons. She reached back and a second later her skirt fell to the floor. He admired the contrasting effect between the tight curls of white wool and the black silk of her panties. She put a thumb through the band on each side and pulled them slowly down, bending at the waist to bring her close to Augustyn, she rubbed her woolly head against his.

The Badger pulled off his shirt, threw the holster with the pistol in it on the night table and undid his belt. Without standing, he jerked his pants out from under his ass and let them fall to the floor. His cock was already filling with blood, rising up from between his legs.

"My, my." Ellie said appreciatively. "Look who was in the front of the line when they were passing those out." She measured it with both paws. She would have needed a third to cover the shaft completely, and still leave the head free. It was so wide that her fingers didn't touch on the far side. She sang a line from an old tune, "Something tells me I'm into something good."

Ellie lowered herself to her knees, knelling between the legs of the large badger. His balls were below her chin and his knob was level with the top of her head. She took it in both paws and lowered it down until it was staring back at her with its single eye. Licking her lips, she brought it down further and licked the slit, moistening the head and forcing the tip of her tongue inside. Augustyn wailed again, but he wasn't crying now.

Ellie stretched her mouth wide and engulfed the knob. Bobbing her head slightly she lubricated the shaft with her lips. With each nod of her head she took more of him in. She removed one paw and Augustyn felt the back of her mouth. She removed the other and he could fell himself entering her throat. Her lips reached the base of his shaft and she held him there, rolling her head left and right, one paw on his sack now, gently rolling his balls.

Augustyn wailed louder. Ellie breathed through her nose. She pulled her head back slowly, still rolling it as if she was working a cork free from a wine bottle. When her lips reached the base of his knob she plunged again. Augustyn could barely restrain himself; it had been two years since he had lain with a woman.

Sensing his struggle, Ellie released his cock and squeezed his balls just enough to distract them. Pushing the Badger onto his back she crawled up onto the bed and lay full length on his chest. She took his head in her paws and kissed him passionately, silencing his moans. When he was calm again she reached back to check his hardness; still one hundred and ten percent. She lifted her ass and wiggled back until her moist slit was poised above it, then she lowered herself onto him with a wail of her own. She forced herself down on it, feeling it split her insides, pressing her pelvis apart.

She paused to catch her breath when she had taken in as much as she dared; she could feel the head pressing against the entrance to her womb. Flexing her legs, she raised herself back up until only the head remained inside, then she lowered herself again. Augustyn grabbed a buttock in each of his enormous paws and helped her, his arms straight out and straining; he was really quite strong. Every thrust forced a moan out of Ellie, matched by Augustyn's wails of pleasure.

The slow but steady pace allowed Augustyn to control himself, but the pressure was building. Two years without sex, too tired after the sixteen-hour days to even masturbate, had left him wondering if he would produce anything but dust the next time he made love. Now he could tell that his little friends had not been idle. His hips began to rise to meet Ellie as she came down, urging her to go faster.

Instead, she slowed down and popped off his member. "One more thing, Augustyn, and my case will be ironclad." She took his paw and made him stand by the bed where she knelt, and then she turned her butt to him and lowered her head and shoulders to the mattress. Her woolly little tail flipped up to reveal the hole beneath it. One paw snaked up from between her legs and moistened itself in her vagina before spreading the juices around the new hole.

"Nothing like a good ass raping to get sympathy from an American jury." She crooned.

Augustyn needed no further urging. Positioning the head of his penis against the hole he let her twist her ass onto it, spreading the natural lubricant. While she did so his paw dipped into the source of the wetness and spread more along his shaft. A sharp cry from Ellie and the knob was inside, the sensitive skin around the rim trapping it there. Augustyn pushed and withdrew a millimetre, then two; increasing the length of the stroke with each thrust. Every time he went deeper more of the sensitive skin was engaged, heightening her pleasure in ever increasing waves. Her cries of ecstasy grew louder as the pleasure mounted.

Soon his balls were slamming against her mound with each plunge, bumping against her fist as she worked the hard knob of flesh there in a frenzy. Three more stokes and he could take no more; steaming fluid shot from him in a stream, filling her. His balls were sucked up against this shaft in their efforts to empty every last drop they had stored up while he continued to pump. He roared as a pleasure so intense that it was painful spread; and still he kept going.

Down below Ellie was screaming now also as she neared orgasm, her paw moving faster and faster on her clit while Augustyn's still-stiff shaft slid in and out of her anus. Then, with one long drawn-out shriek she rose up, reached back to pull herself against him and her juices splashed against his thighs as she came.

Ellie held that pose for what seemed like an eternity, her cry slowly fading away to silence, then she fell to the bed, pulling Augustyn along with her. Still buried deep within her, but fearing that his great weight would crush her, he released her ass and stuck his arms out to support himself. His hips rested on her soft ass, and his stomach followed the curve of her back. He bent his head down and kissed her gently.

After a while his arms began to tremble so he slowly pulled out of her and rolled to sit beside her, where he could look down and admire her form. He noticed something red and took a closer look.

"There is blood Ellie, from a small tear just under your tail. I'm afraid that I have hurt you." His voice was full of concern.

"Don't sweat it Augie," He blushed at her use of the diminutive. "I can't feel a thing that isn't good down there."

He glanced the clock above the bed. "The thirty minutes is almost up. I wish that Vovkulak had made the bet for an hour, or a night." He idly traced the line of her buttock with one paw. "Let me show you where you can clean up."

"No need baby." Ellie twisted around and planted an affectionate kiss on the surmised Badger. She stood and began pulling her clothes back on. "Darling taught me that half the secret to success is looking the part, and the other half is good press. I want those folks out there to have vivid visual memories for when the tabloids I intend to inform come to interview them. Just point me toward the hospital so I can report my terrible molestation. You sure you won't get in trouble?"

"No. Vovkulak pays the local chief of police enough to ignore 'mishaps' like these. He'd have to drop a mutilated body on a public street to attract their attention. You go ahead and remember what I said, get a good lawyer."

Ellie put her paw on the door and turned back to where the Badger sat. A tear was rolling down the short wool on her cheek.

"For what it's worth Augustyn, I wish Vovkulak had bet for the night too." Then she was gone.

* * * * * * * *

Vikki had been watching the clock counting down the thirty minutes, as she was sure everyone else still in the room was. The Elkhound and his mate had left in disgust; they were down a fair amount and free to go. The actress stood by the bar, downing straight gin at a rate that would put her out in just about thirty minutes. The rest were gathered on the far side of the room, trying to ignore the sounds coming through the door.

At first there had been the sound of the Badger's angry voice, and then a sob had escaped. An eerie wailing began soon after. What was the beast doing to her? Vikki debated rushing in to crush the Badger's throat with her robotic prosthetic, but refrained; she had to keep her cover or the Werewolf would have them all killed. She huddled with the rest and left the Ewe to her fate. Now she knew what Silver meant about things that you would not have contemplated a few years ago dirtying your soul.

Just a few minutes ago the sounds of the Sheep crying out could be heard again, followed by a roar from the badger. In the end there had been a shriek that made the fur stand up along Vikki's back, then silence. It was too late to intervene now, whatever evil the Badger had been working on the helpless Sheep was done. The actress hardly seemed to notice.

The door opened just as the thirty minutes expired. Everyone looked as it opened, but none of them directly, they were too ashamed. The Sheep stepped out of the room on trembling legs and turned to close the door. If the tears on her face and damp matted wool visible below her short skirt were not enough evidence of what had transpired the thin line of blood running down her thigh certainly was.

"Ellie!" The actress gushed and left the bar to embrace her partner; not quite at her gin limit, it seemed. Head held high, the Sheep ignored her, brushing past the ageing Cat and headed out the door. Vikki felt a wave of sympathy for the poor thing. The actress, humiliated, screamed for her to come back, but Ellie didn't and she was left standing there like a fool. Eventually the stares and the silence of the rest were too much for her to bear and she slunk out the door.

As soon as the Cat was gone, the others came back to life and the room buzzed with snide comments about both the actress and her unfortunate partner. Then the bedroom door opened and they fell silent again. The Badger was clean and dressed in his tuxedo, as if nothing had happened. He stood at the door and swept the room slowly with his eyes, and Vikki felt her face redden when his glare passed over her. I'll have to learn to control that, she thought, and simultaneously dreaded the day that she would. Would she have to take up gardening beside Silver to keep her sanity in this job?

Vikki poured another glass of fruit juice and pretended to add rum to it. She could hardly wait to get out of the Werewolf's lair.

* * * * * * * *

Marcel and Aleksy listened in on the Panda and the Werewolf from their suite. The reception wasn't good, probably had emission screens on the building Aleksy thought, but he was an expert with this equipment and was able to tease a coherent signal out. He was recording all the data in any event. They spoke in Russian and Aleksy provided a running translation for Marcel after he arrived.

The Panda had started in as soon as the door to the Werewolf's office had closed behind them.

"We are very worried about project 191 Mister Timoshenko. There have been some unacceptable setbacks."

"Nothing permanent however." The Werewolf assured him. "It has only been delayed. The data from the tests in Russia prove that the concept is sound and the technology is more than adequate. With my guidance and control system and the Russian's missile technology your government can leap ahead of both them and the Americans. You can tell your masters that the project will be back on line shortly."

"What assurances do we have that your project is still secure? You have lost your Russian base and there are rumours that your Castle in the Don was raided."

"There have been some setbacks, that is true, one agency in particular has been a thorn in my side for some time now, but I have taken steps to remove that threat. As for the 'big picture', the Russians still think that I'm designing a system for them. The Americans are focused on the Russian threat to their ballistic missile defence shield. Neither suspects that it has all been a ploy to tap into their resources and steal their technology for a third party, your party Zhang Tongzhi."

"Your absence for the past few weeks has eroded the committee's confidence in you. They demand an examination of the technical aspects of your plan. That is why they have sent me, an engineer, instead of the usual state security contacts. Show me the operation."

"Very well." There was a short period of silence then the sound of clanging metal and the rustle of papers. "This is a map of the Island."

Their conversation continued for almost an hour. There were several references to the island and the facilities available, fresh water, an airstrip, buildings and a generator. Other than that, Aleksy could make no sense from the highly technical jargon. The data would have to be sent back to FOX headquarters for analysis.

After Zhang pronounced that he was satisfied, there were the sounds of papers rustling again, followed by a metallic clang. Zhang and the Werewolf quit the office and returned to the Baccarat table. Aleksy shut down the receiver for the bug, but continued to monitor Vikki's earrings.

"What do you think Anthony," he asked using Marcel's cover name, "is this enough material?"

"I don't think so." Marcel answered slowly, a little uncertainly. "Let's ask Miss Victoria." He took the microphone and turned one earpiece around so Aleksy could listen in.

"Vik, this is Marcel. If you are free to talk for a few minutes tap your earring twice." After a pause, two distinct taps sounded on the headphones. "Okay, here's the gist." With Aleksy's help, he covered all the material that they had overheard. "So, what do you think? Do we have enough or should we stick around and hope for more?"

"The info about the third party is valuable," Vikki answered, "but there is no smoking gun pointing at China. We have a project number, an engineer who may or may not be using his real name, and reference to an island somewhere in the world with what, some kind of electronics on it? It's not much." There was a pause. "Oh oh, looks like Zhang is getting ready to leave. I'll be back in a second."

In their suite Marcel heard conversations swell and fade as she crossed the room.

"Mister Zhang," She said, "So sorry to see you go. It was a pleasure playing with you."

"Yes, a pleasure."

"Your collar is turned up in back. Here, let me get that for you."

"Thank you. Goodbye."

"Goodbye Mister Zhang." They heard the sound of a door opening and closing. "I have your bug back. Couldn't risk leaving it on him to be found later. I guess that we won't be getting anything more out of him."

"It sounds like Vovkulak is keeping the 'good stuff' in a safe in his office." Aleksy noted. "Too bad the game is going on outside the only entrance."

"What do you mean?" Marcel asked.

"I surveyed the building before meeting you and bribed a city planning department official for a copy of the plans. His office has no window."

"You have the plans with you?"

"Yes. You can read blueprints?"

"No." Marcel admitted. "But you can."

Aleksy pulled a bundle of folded papers out of his case and selected the one for the penthouse. He pointed out the features to Marcel.

"So the outer walls of the suite are solid between the concrete slabs that form the floor and the roof. The bedroom has a window, and a hanging ceiling?" Marcel looked up from the plans and Aleksy confirmed that it did.

"Hey Vic." Marcel spoke back into the microphone. "How long do you think that you can keep Mister Vovkulak at that table?"

* * * * * * * *

The game recommenced with three fewer players shortly after midnight. The bank now stood at three million Euros, and the more lubricated players were betting larger amounts against it, and subsequently losing faster than before. Vikki, still sober, was trying to keep close to even, neither winning nor losing too much, so she could take her leave without having to submit to one of the Werewolf's challenges. She had to fight to keep her concentration because she was following the movements of Marcel through her earring at the same time.

He had outlined his plan to break into Vovkulak's safe as play commenced. She had had to cup her paws in front of her mouth and pretend to pray to ask if he was certain that he could pull it off. He was.

Marcel had spent most of youth on the streets of one city or another. He had never heard of Abraham Maslov and his theory of the hierarchy of needs, but if it had been explained to him he would have agreed immediately, and wondered why it took so long for academics to note the obvious. On the street, you needed food and shelter first; and both were generally found in or around buildings. Most of his days were spent figuring out how to get into buildings he wasn't supposed to be in, where to hide in them once he got in and how to get out quick if he was found in one. Safety was a state earned by being good at doing that. Social needs were fulfilled when a pack formed around you because you were better than most at it.

That was as far as he had gotten up Maslov's pyramid before being recruited into FOX, where they added safe cracking to his skill set. Now he was clinging to the outside of the casino's penthouse, working his way around to the suite's bedroom window. He was keeping a running commentary going to distract himself from the fact that he was twenty stories up.

"Note to Werewolf." Vikki heard in her ear. "The pigeon shit situation is getting out of control, inform housekeeping." She would have liked to tell him to shut up but she guessed that he needed to keep his courage up.

Marcel made it to the window and strapped himself against it while he worked on the latch. Unlike the guest rooms, where a despondent loser may be tempted to throw themselves out the window otherwise, this one was capable of opening. The lock was a good one, but with the suite full of visitors Vovkulak had fortunately left the alarm off.

The Saudi, unaccustomed to alcohol, had gone to the bank twice in a row and had just called 'Banco' again. He lost and declined the opportunity of winning it all back on a challenge. By the time Marcel was in the bedroom and examining the ceiling the Japanese was ready to quit also. He played the final double or nothing hand the Werewolf required silently, and walked away with four million Euros more than he had brought.

"Okay," Marcel spoke quietly to himself, "Got the ceiling panels up and the headlight on." Vikki heard a 'click' as he turned it on. "Gonna stay on the steam pipe 'til I get to the fire system pipe then go three meters left."

The cards made their way around the remaining three players. It was becoming harder to make up the full amount of the stake now. The Senator was holding his liquor well and the ancient Poodle showed no signs of fading. Both their escorts had fallen asleep on couches.

"They'll be all rested up for later, eh Madam?" The American Fox joked.

"Above the office now. Sliding the ceiling panel over. Gonna put the mirror down now, hold your breath, if there's an alarm we're about to find out."

"What is your bet Miss Victoria?"

"Oh, sorry, one hundred thousand."

"We're clear. Moving the panel aside now ...and I'm on the floor."

Vikki looked at her cards, a natural nine. She flipped them over and called "Nine." She won. Marcel continued to mutter to himself as he searched the room for the safe, finding it behind a wall tapestry. He went silent, listening for the tumblers with the electronic stethoscope she supposed.

"Ta dah." The muffled scrape of metal on metal confirmed his success. "Oh shit, we got trouble."

Vikki couldn't help but jerk her head to one side when she heard that. Vovkulak interpreted as her declining another card for the current hand and dealt himself a nine, reducing his count to three. Vikki hadn't even looked at her cards but she turned up a four and a ten, a win.

"Bold move Miss Victoria" the Senator said admiringly. "Well Mister Vovkulak, You have enough of my money for one night. I'm off."

"A small wager to recoup your loses Senator?" The Werewolf smiled.

"Your Badger up for another half hour with this filly?" The Senator motioned to the Pony that accompanied him.

"Nothing so mundane as that Senator. If I lose I'll return your five and a half million, if you lose you retire from politics, tomorrow."

The senator threw back his head and laughed. "Not a chance. You keep the money. I can get more of that by staying in than I can by getting out." He picked up his wallet and suite keys while Augustyn shook his escort awake. "You all have fun now, you hear." and he left with a smile.

Vikki managed to put a paw up to hide her mouth and whisper, "What's wrong?" while the Senator made his exit.

"There's a grid of lights around the opening of the safe. I don't think that I set anything off yet, but I'm afraid that if I close the door I will. I don't know how to turn it off."

Aleksy interrupted and had Marcel describe the lights. While they discussed the problem Vikki continued to play. She was winning steadily, despite her efforts to lose a few hands and get back to even. When she kept a low hand the Werewolf had lower, when she drew on a high number she got a low card and improved her hand.

The Poodle roused her Spanish lover and prepared to leave. She too was ahead and she played the obligatory double or nothing hand calmly. She lost, but she left no poorer than when she came.

The werewolf looked at the stack of unplayed cards before him; it was getting very low.

"Well my dear," he smiled at Vikki in a way that made her skin crawl, "Is see that you have an accountants eye. Perhaps it is time for me to retire." Vikki realized that he thought that she had been card counting, memorizing the value of all the cards dealt to narrow down the odds as the six-deck shoe came to its end.

She had to act quickly. Aleksy had just finished coaching Marcel on how to defeat the security device but if the Wolf quit now he wouldn't have time to shut it off and get out before he was discovered. She had to buy him more time.

She pointed to the cards. "Afraid to finish of the deck Mister Vovkulak?"

He smiled at the challenge, and dealt another hand.

Vikki had to really concentrate now. Fortunately, Marcel must have picked up on the situation, because he was thankfully silent. She tried to stretch out each hand but the cards were running out fast.

"Last hand Miss Victoria."

"Yes, time to go home." She hoped Marcel picked up on that one.

"Dammit, I just got the prick shut off." Marcel's voice hissed in her ear. Give me a minute and I can get some pictures of this stuff."

The Werewolf had his paw on the deck, waiting for her bet.

"Banco."

The Werewolf's smile broadened. The stake was at five million Euros. She was up almost two million now so he stood to win more than three million; or lose almost seven. He dealt the cards.

Vikki tried to ignore Marcel's mumbled swearing as he fumbled with papers and camera in the office next door. She looked at her cards, a two and a three. She wished that she had been counting the cards; she had no idea what remained. She asked for another card. It was another two. Seven points.

The Werewolf studied her cards, only the two of hearts showing. He drew the last card from the shoe. It was a four. He flipped his other tow cards over, a two and a three also. He had won with nine.

"I suppose that you were hoping for the four, eh? Too bad. I did promise you a chance to break even however." The Werewolf gazed at the ceiling and pretended to think. "Now, what shall we bet for? I know," He leaned forward suddenly, "You will stay here tonight. You will do anything I tell you to do, wear anything I tell you to wear, say anything I tell you to say, and you will beg; but only because you will want to. Six hours, then you may leave."

Vikki could hear Marcel swearing at the Werewolf now through her earring and hoped he could control himself. They needed that information and he was their only hope of getting it out.

"Deal the cards Mister Vovkulak." She said with a coolness she didn't feel.

"Please, call me Vasyl. Cards are so impersonal and it takes so much time to shuffle them. I propose an arm wrestling competition instead.

Vikki looked at the Wolf. He was in good shape, even great shape, but he was almost ninety. She was in pretty good condition too she realized, thanks to the way she had pushed herself after Silver had disappeared. Growing up with seven older brothers she knew more about sports like this than he may have guessed. Arm wrestling was as much about tactics as strength.

She put her right elbow on the table and her left paw behind it where she could grip the edge of the table for extra leverage. "Bring it on."

The Werewolf stood and laughed. "Not me, silly girl. Augustyn, come here.

The badger looked almost sad as he sat down opposite Vikki. He took off his jacket, holster and shirt to give his muscles room to expand. His arms are bigger than my legs, Vikki marvelled. The Badger's paw engulfed hers and they increased the pressure steadily until Vovkulak said, "Go!"

It was no contest. Even though Vikki was stronger than the average male, Augustyn was not the average male. She fought bravely but his weight and length of forearm gave him too much of an advantage. Her arm was slowly but steadily forced to the table.

Vikki was breathing hard from the effort, Augustyn was hardly breathing. She had not heard a word from Marcel since taking the bet; she hoped that he had gotten out by now. She looked up to where the Werewolf stood chuckling and stared him hard in the eyes. She tugged on her left opera glove, wondering how he would react when he saw the prosthetic paw.

The Werewolf seemed put off by her defiant stare. Had he been expecting her to plead for mercy? She had caught him staring at her earlier in the evening, undressing her with his eyes, and she knew that he wanted her; but maybe he wanted something else more. She just might have a chance.

Vikki switched arms so that the left paw was up and flexed the fingers of her artificial paw underneath the glove.

"Twelve hours against the money I owe, double or nothing on the off-paw." Vikki tried to look desperate.

The Werewolf agreed, smiling again. "Bring her to me after you break her arm Augustyn." and with that the Werewolf disappeared into his bedroom.

* * * * * * * *

Marcel had tears running down his cheeks and his tongue between his teeth to keep from screaming in frustration. His arms ached as he clung to the wall between Vovkulak's bedroom windows. The Werewolf had entered the bedroom and thrown open the curtains. If Marcel tried to move, he would be spotted. If he stayed put, Vovkulak would eventually come close enough to the windows to see him. He was trapped and Vikki was about to be brutalized.

He had only managed to get a few pictures before he had to put everything back as he found it. Scooting back the way he had come he had tried to make sure that he left no trace. Vikki had sacrificed herself to buy him the time to do that but it hadn't been enough, he had barely closed the window when the Werewolf strode into the room.

If the mission was going to fail anyway, then there would be one less werewolf in the world after tonight, Marcel decided. He eased one of his knives from its sheath and prepared to charge into the room, then he froze as heard the scream.

The only sounds on his earpiece since the Werewolf had entered the bedroom had been of shuffling chairs and grunts as the two contestants settled into their new positions. Then they had each said 'Ready'. Then Vikki had said "This is for Ellie." The scream had come a second later.

The Werewolf rushed out of the bedroom. Marcel realized that the scream had come from the Badger, not from Vikki and understood what Vikki was up to. He crossed the window and began inching his way back around the building to their own suite.

Back in the card room, Vikki's microphone picked up the Werewolf swearing in Ukrainian and Marcel recognized most of the words thanks to his stepfather Yurgi. Vovkulak had lost his happy thoughts.

"Looks like your Badger has a weak left paw, Mister Vovkulak." Vikki's voice came through. "I'd get that looked at. I take it that I'm free to go?"

The Werewolf swore again, but must have indicated consent because the next sound Marcel heard was a door closing and cutting off the curses. He could hear the tap of Vikki's heels on the marble of the penthouse foyer as she crossed to their rooms. Now that she was safe, he could concentrate on getting back there himself.

Just before she shut her earrings off she gave Marcel one last piece of advice, "Marcel, next time we're all working on an open circuit, you shut the fuck up."

* * * * * * * *

Several hours had passed since she arrived at the hospital an Ellie was dead on her feet. The ER staff had examined her and called the police. The paparazzi, alerted by Ellie's 'anonymous' phone call, arrived at the same time. Darling had showed up shortly after, drunk and dishevelled, only to be driven off by the flash of a dozen cameras. Now the police and the press had their statements and the small tear Augustyn's enormous prick had made was repaired. She would go straight to the airport and take the first flight heading back to California to file the separation papers.

The paparazzi were gone from the lobby, off to sell their pictures and file their stories, when Ellie emerged from the ER. One hulking figure sitting in the corner with its back to her looked familiar however. She circled around and gasped when she saw Augustyn cradling his bloody left paw. She rushed to him.

"What happened to your paw Augie?"

"Nothing more than I deserve for working with Vovkulak." He replied sadly. "He used me again to get the vixen that he fancied into his den, where he would have done terrible things to her, but she managed to turn the game around on him. I don't know how she managed it, but she crushed my paw with hers. Her grip! It was like steel!" The Badger lowered his head and continued softly. "She did it for you, for what she thought I did to you."

Ellie had tears running down her face now as she squatted in front of him.

"Are you going to be okay Augie?"

"I'm afraid that I am now unemployed; Vovkulak does not like losing. I have enough saved up for the treatment here, but this paw will take some time to heal, and it may never work again. I don't know what will happen to my children now, we will have to go live with my Mother I suppose."

Ellie stood and pulled a paper and pen from her purse. "I have to go back to America to do what you advised. Write your Mother's address and phone number down. Check the tabloids, when this is all over I'll come back and find you."

When the ER doctor came out to fetch the Badger with the mutilated paw he wasn't surprised to see tears running down his cheeks, intense pain can do that to the biggest and baddest, but he was surprised to see the serene smile on his face. Must be in shock, he thought, better get him under quickly.

* * * * * * * *

In their suite, Vikki and Marcel apologized to each other for her harsh words and his distracting babble while Aleksy transmitted their data back to Canada. They would leave the casino as soon as he was done and head straight to the airport also.

As they waited in the airport lobby for the Squirrel to purchase their tickets Vikki signed onto the secure communications network to see what news there was from FOX.

Marcel found her staring at the screen, chewing her lip in a way she did when she was worried.

"What's up?" A knife was already in his paw. "Werewolf coming after us?"

"No." She turned the device off and turned to him. "We need to get back to Ottawa right away. Several people have died at FOX Academy.