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ROGUE SWORD

Chapter 3 - Training Films

F.O.X. Academy was used for much more than just the basic training of new agents. Many advanced courses were held there, as well as any refresher or specialty training required before going on a mission. In fact, any field agent that was not currently on a mission or being sewn up after one was on some sort of training schedule, and could be found somewhere on the Academy grounds practicing with new weapons, learning new paw holds, studying reports on various counter-intelligence agencies or memorizing escape routes from Mongolia. Because of the need-to-know principal, however, it was unusual for a large number of agents to be on the same training schedule, but that was what was happening now as nine agents came together for an unprecedented effort.

Only the Chief of Staff and the Director knew that there was a tenth agent, secretly participating through hidden network feeds set up by their in-house technical genius, Kain Algorath.

That agent was a cloud leopard, one Ophelia Cassidy Sommers. She had infiltrated the Academy seeking misguided revenge on Silver. She learned the truth before she killed him, but had murdered a fellow student in the meantime, which could not be simply forgiven. She was given a slow-working poison and then offered the option of either a quick death or a life in exile posing as the recently deceased master assassin, the Perfect Stalker, but dependant on an antidote controlled by F.O.X. She chose exile, leaving her lover, the arctic fox Algorath behind ... or so it seemed.

She had managed to pass a secret message to Kain before disappearing and he was able to establish contact with her. Once or twice each year he would slip off, ostensively on vacation, but in actuality to meet with Ophelia in secret. They had to be extremely cautious, as such meetings violated the conditions of her exile and were punishable by death, but with possibly the best spy craft training in the world and a natural talent for subterfuge they managed to hide their affair from the eyes of the counter-intelligence branch of F.O.X. Unbeknownst to them, however, Silver knew about their clandestine meetings. He had, in fact, anticipated that they would break the rules and risk their lives to continue their romance. He had counted on it as a way of keeping Ophelia in line and retaining the services of her master hacker paramour; Ophelia needed the antidote that only Silver could supply, and Kain needed the resources of F.O.X. to cover his tracks when they met.

Knowing that they got together every time Kain was out of the country, and aware of how protective Ophelia could be, Silver arranged a simple method of brining her onto this mission without letting them know that he was on to them. Kain was told that he was going into Pakistan alone to provide a distraction for an unidentified allied agent, who would be working independently. As expected, Kain used his secret channels to contact Ophelia and she decided to drop a minor mob assassination that she was working on to join him there. As both were overflowing with the curiosity that makes for great agents, Silver was certain that neither would be able to resist getting involved in the search for the scientist's killer, and he deliberately made Kain's orders vague enough to allow the arctic fox a lot of leeway. So he was pleased to see activity on the lines Sommer used to access the Academy files that coincided with the training sessions Kain was attending.

While all nine attended lectures on atomic theory, nuclear energy and the bomb making process there were some variations in their schedules.

Kain would brush up on his general tradecraft and study Pakistan's information technology infrastructure. When not out and about the town leading the local intelligence agencies around in circles he would see what information he could glean off their intranet. There was no sense in him trying to pick up any of the local languages in a short period of time, but he had written a translation program and would carry something that looked like a smart phone to run it on. His main concern was how to hack the Pakistani government and education networks without being intercepted.

Marcel was up to speed on most aspects of the job, having just come off a mission, and could understand Ukrainian thanks to his mother and step-father. He would not be going in as the pro skateboarder Anthony Foxx this time though, but rather would pose as a local, so he had to work on his vocabulary and expand his cultural knowledge. Geno knew a dozen or so words in Ukrainian, mostly swear words and sexual terms, and since her cover was to be that of a Polish 'Au pair' girl in the household of one of the potential targets she would be attending the language classes with Marcel to pick up a few of the more socially acceptable phrases. She would also be visiting wardrobe to pick up some more socially acceptable clothing.

The two field agents, along with Delores "Baby Doll" Johnson, were still making their way back to Canada from what was supposed to be a post-mission break in Europe.

Grey Muzzle and Mademoiselle Chiene-Caniche were to go into Argentina under the cover of European energy investors. His fluent Spanish and her French would suffice to fool most of the officials they would run into, although Grey had to avoid speaking English due to a distinct New England Accent.

"Tell people that you are Scottish." Silver suggested. "No one south of Hadrian's Wall knows what a proper Scottish accent is."

Miss CC needed just a little weapons refresher for her role, but Grey had not completed his basic training before being arrested as a sleeper agent, and needed to catch up. He had picked up a lot of tips from the agents talk around the bar and he was a fast learner, but one hour on the range was all that it took to convince Rusty that the middle-aged grey fox would never threaten Silver's position as top shot, or even Joel's as the sixty-third best shot in the Academy.

"You're competent enough up close," the big Doberman advised the older fox, "but we're saving a lot of money on targets out past five metres. What you need is one of our small, easily concealable pistols." He showed Grey a .22 calibre automatic made entirely out of plastic and hardly bigger than the fox's paw.

"Where do you get a holster small enough for this?" Grey inquired after examining the toy-like gun.

"You don't." Rusty laughed, slapping Grey on the backside. "You get fitted for it. Report to Doctor Jones first thing Monday."

Grey had heard rumours of the surgically implanted pouch that field agents were given for such purposes. But not being a fan of anything that might cause him to part with any amount of blood, he balked at the prospect.

"Do not fear, mon cher." Mademoiselle Chiene-Caniche crooned in his ear. "I weel be there to comfort you after zee procedure."

"You weel ...will?"

Rusty laughed. "Careful Grey, due to the, uhm, delicate location of the operation, you won't be able to engage in any, ah, strenuous physical activity for at least a week."

"Well, in that case maybe I should skip it."

"Do not worry mon pi'tou. I weel think of some way to relieve your tensions." She licked her lips suggestively.

In the end, appropriately enough, Grey conceded to the operation.

Vikki Beausoleil and the former sniper Dongo Fett had the hardest assignment, to infiltrate the "Hermit Kingdom" of North Korea. Secretive and secluded to the point of paranoia, it was just as hard to sneak agents in as it was to sneak citizens out. Not that many of them wanted to go, as most believed the state-run media that claimed they were the most fortunate of creatures on the face of the earth.

The nation was ruled by the Kim family in a cult of personality that spanned three generations. The eldest, Kim Il-Sung, was genuinely adored by his people and regarded as a sort of demi-god. He was appointed as the "Eternal President" on his death and the general population believes that he still fulfils that function, from wherever it is he has gone since leaving his mortal existence. His son, Kim Jong-Il, may not have been as well loved, but he was certainly feared and respected. He became "Eternal Chairman" when he died relatively young, widely believed by western analysts to be due to sexual excess and a fondness for expensive cognac and brandy. He third son, Kim Jong-Un took the post of "Supreme Leader", since president and Chairman were taken by his dead ancestors. His resemblance to his grandfather was striking, and helped reinforce his legitimacy in the eyes of the populace.

The country was run under a rigid party-class system based on loyalty to the Kim family and the communist party going back several generations. There were three levels and over 50 sub-levels that determined one's access to education, work assignments and rations. The families of the elite, the descendants of those who fought with the elder Kim against the Japanese and later in the civil war, were considered "trusted" and got the best of all three. The lowest group those considered "hostile" because of their ancestor's political leanings or religious beliefs, were allotted next to nothing, unless they had a special talent that the state wanted to exploit.

The small Christian red fox clan, the Palgan Yeou, was considered neither "trusted" nor "hostile". They were not considered truly Korean by the majority species either and so they were mostly distained and ignored. Only their unique role in the mining and processing of uranium saved them from being starved out of existence. The entire red fox clan had been conscripted into the Korean nuclear program from its onset.

Uranium had been mined in the Hungnam district of North Korea since before the Second World War. Back then it was called Konan, and it was the site of the Japanese secret atomic bomb program. No one knows how close they got to building a device, because the scientists all disappeared at the end of the war, but they had a ready supply of high grade Uranium 238 which was easily processed to more than 99% purity. This naturally occurring uranium isotope was found in an area where the red fox clan lived, and they lived there because no one else would. The ground was considered poison since ancient times and it was not hard to see why when one looked at the foxes that lived there in the early part of the twentieth century.

Deformities were common, and the cancer rate was triple that of the rest of the peninsula. Inbreeding and prolonged exposure had given most of the population Marfan syndrome, a disease that manifested itself in stunted limbs, unusual tallness and spiderlike digits. It was that description, and the fact that the local agent was in contact with several members of that clan, that gave Bill Hanlan the idea of having Vikki and Dongo impersonate a pair of the oppressed Palgan Yeou.

Over six feet tall, missing half of one arm, and naturally slim, Vikki almost looked the part already. And while Dongo was not as tall, his gauntness and matching missing limb fit the part. It was a simple matter for the technicians at the F.O.X. labs to fit them with paw coverings that would extend their digits enough to make the illusion of Marfan syndrome complete. There was a little language problem, however.

"A number of the Palgan Yeou suffer from blindness, deafness or are mute," Silver informed them during their mission brief, "due to their lifelong exposure to low-level radiation. Our contact inside their nuclear program is one of the few that has escaped unaffected, and he is sort of the senior foreperson among the indentured foxes. But he has a little sister who is partially deaf and has a deformed palette. Her husband is completely mute. They need medical treatment that they will never receive in their homeland. We are going to sneak then out and replace them with you two. In exchange for their treatment our contact will arrange for you two to work close to the nuclear scientists we are interested in."

Silver passed them a small metallic device. "This is a new implant that we have developed." He explained while they examined it. "It contains a smaller version of Algorath's translation program. It will translate what it hears and send an English version directly into the auditory cortexof your brain. There is a short delay, but your apparent mental slowness will fit the persona you will adopt. Your character is mute, Dongo, so all that you have to do is react appropriately to what is said. Vikki, you unit will suggest monosyllabic responses. You'll have a jaw insert that will slur your pronunciation enough to mimic the kind of deformity their masters are used to dealing with. We've brought in a few Korean speakers for you to practice with."

"What about reading and writing?" She asked.

"Most of the Palgan Yeou are illiterate. You'll both get a crash course in their phonetic script, enough to pronounce a word if you see it written. If you can't read a sign just whisper the sounds to yourself and the translator should be able to handle it."

Other than that the two foxes needed to brush up on their exfiltration techniques, because if things went sour it was highly unlikely that F.O.X. would be able to send a rescue squad so deep into Korean territory. They would have to make it to the coast to meet a submarine, and that meant lots of climbing practice in the nearby Gatineau hills, river crossings using the more turbulent parts of the great Ottawa River, and field craft, lots of field craft. All of that training had to done at night, of course, because they would not be moving during the day if they could help it.

The last team, destined for South Africa, was still short one member. Delores Johnson was on her way back from Finland and would report in the next day. Her partner, a new agent named Zachery Ember, was a tall slim eastern grey wolf. He was the only survivor of the Academy class of 2011. That course had ended abruptly after most of the other students were killed by a group of genetically altered cat-bats who were trying to infiltrate one of their own into F.O.X. He had finished his agent training since then by attending refresher classes with other agents and receiving some one-on-one training from Rusty and the other instructors. He was fairly well up to date on his weapons and fighting skills, and language was no problem as most South Africans spoke English to some degree.

While waiting for Delores Johnson to return he studied the country and its culture. Foxes and grey wolves were not uncommon there, but most were descendants of the European settlers and spoke Afrikaans, which neither he nor Delores knew. The African population consisted mainly of dik-diks, a small antelope, bat-eared foxes, black-backed jackals, zebra of several stripes, warthogs, lions, rhinos, springbok, a number of mice and a surprising number of mole species. He had expected more primates, like Joel the lemur, but was disappointed to discover there were very few. It was the wrong part of Africa for them.

He also started a crash course online in the art of film making, something he had dabbled in before coming to the Academy. He had once thought of filming a documentary about Poi spinning, which he was adept at, but gave up that idea as he gravitated more towards the practical sciences of mechanics and machinery. He was studying the art of film again because their cover required he be familiar with the terms.

"The scientist that we are interested in is the head of a research institute housed in the same complex as their former nuclear weapons facility." Silver had explained to the young wolf that morning. "And he has a weakness. He like movies, but not just any movies. He likes pornographic movies. But not the plot less yiff 'em in six positions and them discharge on their muzzle kind of porno; what he likes are hardcore historical dramas. We found that out when Algorath did a check on his internet habits. There is a Canadian production company from Montreal that does that kind of thing, '55 Days at Yiffing', 'All Quiet on the Yiffing Front', 'All the President's Yiff" and 'The Year of Yiffing Dangerously', among others. You'll have to watch them because he's got them all in his collection and he'll probably want to talk about them. You and Johnson are going in posing as members of that company to scout for locations for a pornographic version of 'The China Syndrome' called 'Three Yiff Island'. You are in South Africa because you heard that the facilities there closely resemble those of the reactor at Three Mile Island and also of the generous tax incentives the government gives to attract filmmakers. All you have to do is get Johnson close to our target and let her do the rest. Think of it as 'Argo', with benefits."

"Benefits?"

"You'll see."

* * * * * * * *

That night Zac had nothing on his schedule. Tired of studying online he decided to crack open the box of DVDs Silver had given him. Inside he found the four films that the Chief of Staff had mentioned and a dozen more. He decided to start with 'The Yiffing Fields' because he enjoyed war drama and the Asian actresses on the cover photo looked cute.

It followed the plot of the original movie much more closely than Zac would have expected, but instead of the grand panoramic scenes of the Cambodian countryside the plot was interrupted regularly with gratuitous sex. As far as porn went, Zac had to admit, theirs was pretty good. More erotic than pornographic, really, with lighting and music to match the mood. And the cast could really act, although they would never win an Oscar for their yiff-filled performances. Zac found that he had an erection from the first coupling, and while it dropped a bit between encounters, it sprang back readily whenever someone started pawing someone else.

Zac was watching them in the single agent's quarters. He had a small suite there with its own television but he had put the movie on the big screen TV in the darkened lounge. He lived there almost alone. The only other resident was Kain Algorath, and he was at the headquarters hacking into the networks of the five target countries' security agencies in preparation for the mission. Since the downsizing of the late twentieth century there were very few agents, and they were not required to live on the Academy grounds anymore. Nowadays the single agent's quarters were mostly used as transient quarters for those agents posted to embassies around the world.

On the screen the American journalist, a grey wolf like Zac, had some Cambodian female, a doe-eyed slow loris, on her back with her legs locked behind her head. Her little breasts bounced as the wolf pounded her pussy from a standing position. Zac could see every fold in her cunt as the wolf's pink prick slid in and out of her. Seeing as there was no one around Zac decided to unzip his jeans and slip his stiffening cock out through the fly, just because the material was pinching him, he lied to himself.

The loris was sitting on the edge of the bed now, sucking on the wolf's cock while looking up at him with those big, brown eyes. She was taking her time, and the wolf's enjoyment did not seem to be faked at all. Zac began to stroke himself unconsciously in time with the action on the screen.

After a few minutes of oral ministration the loris turned around and kneeled on the bed. Zac's heart skipped a beat at the sight of her perfect butt and long shapely legs. The wolf knelt down and licked her twat a bit first, making it good and wet. He teased her clit with the tip of his long tongue, and Zac found himself imitation the technique. It became very painful after a few seconds but he imagined that if he practiced a little more each day he would develop the endurance the actor was displaying. No amount of exercise would give him a schlong quite as big as the one that the wolf finally inserted in the glistening slit of the loris however; some fellows were just born lucky, Zac supposed.

The couple rolled around on the bed, changing positions smoothly, naturally, as the action sped up. Zac's paw also quickened as he sensed the climax of this little episode coming. Unlike most pornos these days the wolf did not pull out at the last second and cum in her face, as Silver had mentioned. Instead, he came inside her, slowing his pace as the spooge oozed out around his cock. Caught unawares, Zac groped for the remote control and backed it up to a point about a minute before the climax and then let it run as he went back to stoking his erection. If he timed it right he would come at the same time as the actor on the screen.

The actor hammered away at the loris frantically, she squeaked just as he remembered, he grunted and his hips hitched just the slightest bit. Zac's paw flew up and down. Only a few more seconds and ... and ...

And all the lights in the lounge came on at once.

"Well, well, well. I see that the new generation of F.O.X. agents aren't afraid to get their paws dirty." A short, blonde and busty red fox rounded the couch that Zac was sitting on. "Do you need a tissue dear?" She asked as she leaned down to rummage through the pile of DVDs on the coffee table.

Zac was frozen with his cock squeezed in a death grip. "Uh, no." He managed. The shock on hearing her voice and the pain from his instinctive clench had effectively stifled his orgasm. Other than a few drops of pre-cum that had leaked out and dampened the fur on the back of his paw he was still clean and dry. He suspected that his erection would disappear too if he could loosen his paw enough to let the blood flow back out of it, but he couldn't move. He just sat, prick in paw, staring at the voluptuous vixen that was leaning over the table opposite him.

Her legs were straight, their curves enhanced by the spike heels she wore. She was bent over ninety degrees at the waist, supporting the weight of her torso and the twin globes of flesh mounted there with her paws on her knees. She was wearing short-shorts, and a lose top that hung down as she leaned over, exposing most of her pendulous breasts. They were squished between her upper arms in her current pose.

This must be the infamous Delores Johnson Zac realized, and cursed himself for forgetting that she would probably be staying in the single agents quarters during their mission training. She did not seem to mind that he was staring at her breasts, nor was she looking at his exposed cock. Zac took the opportunity to tuck it back inside his pants and fold the fly over the shrinking bulge but he stopped there; zipping up would have been too obvious.

"I see you're doing your homework like a good boy." Delores commented after he had hidden his sore shaft. "The Battleyiff Potemkin!" she held up a case with a screen shot of Russian sailors gang-yiffing a female in the uniform of the imperial guard. "A favourite back in Moscow. I've used it myself to provide a little patriotic incentive for some of the old soviet-era generals to get it up. I swear, trying to seduce those old farts is like pushing limp rope uphill ... literally." She glanced at the action on the big screen TV before turning back to Zac. "But you prefer your communist comrades tiny and tight I take it?" She grinned suggestively as a group of small, slim, naked females from the Khmer Rouge tried to get information from the Cambodian hero of the story, a slight departure from the original film."

"Uh, no ... I mean ... yes, sometimes, Agent Johnson."

"You can call me Baby Doll, hon." She told him. "And don't be ashamed of what you were doing. Everyone does it, just not in public places, you daring bastard." She straightened up and stepped around the table. "But I like daring in a partner. Daring is good." Before Zac knew what she was doing she dropped to her knees and slipped a paw into his unzipped fly. She smiled up at him from between his knees. "I'm pretty daring too."

Zac had heard stories about "Baby Doll" Johnson. The buxom blonde swift fox was reputed to have yiffed everyone on the F.O.X. staff with the exception of the Director, who was gay, and Silver, who had fallen for Vikki Beausoleil before Delores had gotten around to him. Even the Director's secretary, the party poodle Miss CC was said to have spent some time between the sheets with F.O.X.'s Moscow resident. Thinking of that possibility brought new life to Zac's loins.

The movie on the big screen had entered a dreary phase, showing the hero stumbling through fields of skeletons after escaping his lithe interrogators. Without pausing the paw that stroked his penis Delores reached over with the other and tapped the remote to stop the movie and then deftly tapped in a few numbers to change the playback to a music station. The strains of smooth jazz filled the lounge.

"So, tell me about yourself Zac." Delores said as she eased his stiffening joint out of his jeans.

"There's, uh, not much to tell Del-" She gave him a warning squeeze. "I mean, Baby Doll. I just joined the Academy last year. I've helped out on a couple of missions but never something big like this." Between his knees, she did something complicated with her arms, switching paws at one point without missing a beat. She finished the manoeuvre by pulling her bra out of the arm hole of her blouse. She dropped it on the floor beside her. "I don't mind telling you," he continued, 'I'm a little nervous."

Delores shrugged off her blouse, exposing two of the firmest, well rounded breasts that Zac had ever seen. She rubbed her nipples erect with the head of his cock before she spoke. "Nervous? Why on earth would you be nervous, honey?"

"Well, uh." Zac struggled for words as he stared down on her. "They say that this is going to be a dangerous mission, and I've ... well I've ..."

"Spit it out, boy." She said as she did the opposite with his prick. The feel of her warm moist lips around his shaft made him sigh and he lolled back against the back of the sofa.

Well, I've never killed anyone." He confessed. Helping Silver incinerate a half dozen hermaphroditic cat-bats on a Saskatchewan prairie did not count in his mind.

Delores took his cock from her mouth and wrapped her large breasts around it so that she could speak. Her response surprised him. "Neither have I. Oh I've had a couple of senior Russian officials kick off from heart attacks while in the saddle so to speak but it's not like I was trying to kill them. Undiagnosed congenital heart disease in both cases. Ha!" She laughed. "Con-genital - genitals, get it?"

He did, but he could only smile weakly as she slowly stroked his prick with her breasts. The fur on them was thin and wispy, and they were warm. Looking down, he saw his cock appearing and disappearing between them like a mouse trying to avoid a fox ... or a vixen.

Delores continued as she rolled her ample breasts around on his shaft. "Don't get to thinking that every agent is like Silver, or even Sable for that matter." She used Marcel's codename, the one he earned when he became a senior agent. As a resident agent, she did not have a codename. "Most of us spend our days working contacts in the countries we are posted to, getting along perfectly fine with the local state security, providing we do not get too blatant. We play the game, and so do they. It's a much more peaceful game than it was thirty years ago when everyone was certain that they were all about to be nuked sooner or later. Back then secrets were protected with deadly force and agents like Silver risked their lives daily to get information that would give their side an edge in the upcoming holocaust."

She paused to lick the tip of his joint. "Get caught breaking into a compound to take pictures of the latest tank and you got shot. Meet with a stooge and get gunned down in the street. Stop for lunch on a courier run and after the bullets stopped flying they chop your arm off to get the briefcase chained to it. You know old Jenkins?"

Zac recalled an elderly fox with one arm that sweep up in the gym and shooting range. "The janitor you mean?"

"Yep. Couldn't resist fresh bratwurst, and the Soviets knew it. Six months of NATO codes gone in an instant, as well as his second career as a concert pianist." She started licking again, looking up at him with wide innocent eyes.

"You're kidding me." Zac concluded. He had been trained to detect when someone was not telling the truth, but damn, she was good.

"Okay, I confess. He lost it in a lawn mower accident, but what I said about Silver and Sable is true. It takes a special kind of person to deal with the risks they take and the kind of killing they have to do. This place is full of stories about agents who tried and died, or broke themselves trying to be like that. You're going into this mission as shooter, sure, but you don't have to be like them. You will have to do what you have to do, but it doesn't mean that you have to like it."

Zac remembered the sight of the burning cat-bats, as well as the smell, and the screams. The dreams that brought them back still woke him in the middle of the night over a year later. But what he remembered most was the look on Silver's face as the last of the genetic mutants went down under the stream of flame he poured on them. The look of satisfaction in a job well done, like he had just finished polishing his car or painting a bench. Zac had wondered then, and still wondered now, if he would ever be so familiar, no, so callous about death, to feel the same way.

Thinking of that day on the prairie was making his cock sag. "Oh, no you don't." Delores declared, rubbing her tits frantically on it. "Let's get back to thinking happy thoughts here Peter Pan." She dipped her head and engulfed him three times before reverting to the breast massage. "Think of a wonderful thought," she sang, "any merry little thought. Come on, work with me here Ember."

Zac could not help himself. The sight of her smiling up at him while she rolled her balloon-like breasts around his cock was too much to resist. Thoughts of burning meat and big silver foxes with death personified standing behind them fled as new blood rushed into his loins.

"There we go." She crooned as he stiffened between her warm globes. "There's my big boy."

"I bet you say that to all the guys." He said with a grin as he ran his digits through her golden curls.

"Sure I do, kid. But it only because I love each and every one of you." She finished by lowering her head to take him into her mouth again, slurping noisily as she sucked on his erection. At that moment Zac realised why she was so good at what she did. It was because what she said was true. She really did love what she did, and the people she did it with. The secrets she gleaned from it were just a bonus. Maybe that's Silver's secret too, he thought as he abandoned himself to the sensations, that he really loved doing what he was good at.

What, he wondered, am I really good at? What do I love doing? And more important, was he doing it here at F.O.X.? But there would be time to time to ponder such questions later. Right now he had more urgent needs to fulfil.

Delores continued to tit yiff Zac while she sucked on his cock. But she could not get much in her mouth because only the last bit ever poked out far enough from between her breasts for her to get her lips around. She compensated for lack of volume by using her tongue, wrapping it around the sensitive area just below the head and tickling the slit in the end. Saliva was dripping from her mouth as she simultaneously sucked on Zac's cock and massaged it with her tits. It pooled between her breasts, trapped there because she had them squeezed so tightly around his prick that the fluid could not escape. But with each stroke a tiny bit served to lubricate his passage and he slid smoothly between them, without binding, chaffing or burning. And it felt good, very good. Zac held her head and rocked his hips so she would not have to do all the work.

After a few minutes of that Delores let go of her breasts and plunged her head down on his prick until her snout touched his belly. Then she sucked hard, shaking her head like a dog with a bone so that the tip rubbed against the back of her throat. While her paws were free she reached down and undid her shorts and then shimmied out of them. Looking down, Zac saw that she was wearing a bright yellow thong that stood out against her tawny fur. The cord disappeared between the round cheeks of her buttocks. It was held on by a loop with a snap around the base of her bushy tail. He reached down and undid it. Delores grabbed the lose material and slipped it off. Then she released his cock and stood up.

"Your turn Tiger." She said as she climbed up on the couch. She planted a foot on each side of him and leaned over to rest her paws on the back of the couch. Her crotch was just above Zac's snout.

Zac put his paws on her thighs and separated them. Her pubic fur was blonde, like that on her head, and it was neatly trimmed above her slit. But she had shaved it off on the sides, and the pale skin glistened. Her inner lips were already protruding, and they were already wet. The smell made Zac's loins ache to sample them.

He pulled her closer to him and opened his mouth to cover her tender parts. He explored her with his tongue while he rolled his head against her groin. Delores let go of the couch and put her paws on his head to guide him. When his tongue found her clit she moaned and rocked against it.

"Oh yeah, Zac. That's the spot. Right there. Lick it Zac. Lick it hard."

Zac supposed that she meant for him to lick harder but her clit was certainly responding by growing harder also. He used his paws to hold her open so he could get more tongue on it, and slipped one then two digits inside her while he had the opportunity. He used them to push her clit from behind and massaged that spot in little circles while he continued licking. He paced himself so he would not get a tongue cramp and continued like that for several minutes.

She ground herself against his fist and tongue as he tickled her outside and rubbed her inside. Her hips jittered and her cunt tightened on his digits as her orgasm approached. Sweet juices were flowing freely from her, mingling with his saliva. Zac pressed on harder in response to her frantic bucking, wondering how long she would hold off. He did not have to wonder for long, after less than a minute at that accelerated rate she squeezed his head between her paws and screamed as a burst of hot fluids squirted out from around his fist.

He pulled his digits out of her and clamped his mouth around her sex, drinking the nectar down while his tongue chased her clit back between the folds of warm flesh. Delores shuddered against him as her climax reached its height, but she pulled back when he tried to tease a second one out of her with his clever tongue.

"Retract that appendage, boy." She crooned as she squatted down. "I've got an urge to put something else in there." Reaching down she grabbed his aching cock and guided the tip into her slit. She continued down, sighing deeply as his length slid into her. When her buttocks were firmly planted on his thighs she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and covered his mouth with hers. Then she flexed her thighs to rise up again, stopping just as the tip of his cock threatened to pop out.

Zac could taste himself on her, and she could certainly taste herself on him. She sucked and licked at his muzzle as she rose and fell on his prick. He was harder than he could ever remember being before, and he could feel every contour of her twat as it slid up and down on him. He put his paws on her ass to help, and also for the feel of those globes in his paws. Behind her bushy tail whipped back and forth faster and faster, helping her to keep her balance as she rode up and down. Zac wanted to caress it but he was afraid that he would throw her off if he did. Instead he worked his digits farther around until he could press the pad of one digit against the tight little hole below her tail. His digit was dry, and Delores giggled and shook her head when he pressed against the orifice, but she did not tell him to remove it, so he rubbed the sensitive skin around it while she continued to pump up and down on his cock.

Having had its last eruption stifled his balls seemed in no hurry to try again, and that suited Zac just fine, but something inside her was swelling, he could feel when the head of his cock passed over it. She was tighter too than she had been when she started on him, he was sure of it. The combined effect was making his balls swell despite his efforts to hold them back. He grit his teeth and tried to think of train wreaks and grandmothers but it was no good. A groan escaped from between his lips and Delores increased her pace.

Giving up, Zac grabbed her around the waist and pulled her down hard on the next stoke. She cried out with pleasure as his balls slapped against her ass and lifted herself right off his cock before driving herself back down on it. Zac assisted, and soon they were bouncing on the couch hard enough to make it shudder across the carpeted floor a little bit on each thrust.

Before they could crash into any of the other fur nature Zac came. He came hard. A cry was torn from his throat as a fireball rose inside him. It felt like his balls were being sucked up through his shaft to be blasted to bits inside her. She didn't pause as he came, but continued to ride him. Wads of spooge escaped when she rose up and more was squeezed out of her when she came down again. His cock was super sensitive now, and Zac could hardly stand it, but she was still moving on him, and faster than ever.

With a cry of her own Delores drove herself down on him one last time. She pressed him back against the couch and rotated her butt to stir her insides with his still stiff prick. The pad of swollen flesh he had felt earlier twitched against him and seemed to melt as more fluid built up inside her. Gradually, slowly, she became still.

Zac wrapped his long arms around her and held her tight as she lay gasping against his chest. He did not speak because he was breathing hard too, and could think of nothing to say anyway. They lay like that for a few minutes, but when she had gotten her breath back Delores pushed herself back up to a sitting position and smiled down on him.

"You'll do partner." She smirked. "And after a quick break to visit the ladies room, you'll do it again." She jumped off if him and the couch in one smooth movement. Reaching for the remote she turned the DVD player back on. "Find some inspiration while I'm gone. I'll want you hard by the time I get back. I'm going to need some practice if I'm going to impersonate a porn star ... a lot of practice."

Zac watched as she strolled out of the lounge toward the washrooms. He appreciated the way her butt rolled and her tail swayed with each step. Fondling himself with his paw he decided that their next act would be in a position that would give him a good view of that lovely ass and tail. He felt a twitch and smiled.

"Argo with benefits." He mumbled. "Damn, but I love this job!"

* * * * * * * *

The next day found the four teams and Algorath assembled for a lecture on the nuclear process and the what signs of a secret weapons program to look out for, provided by personnel from Atomic Energy Canada Limited, known commonly as AECL. They spent the morning learning about the enrichment process, and why the uranium 238 that makes up 98 % of natural uranium could not be used for nuclear weapons directly. They discussed the use of plutonium from a breeder reactor, and why that process was easy to detect and shut down. Finally they were lectured on the process of extracting the fissionable uranium 235, of which only .07% of natural uranium was.

The AECL scientists walked them through the different types of extractors. Electromagnetic separation had been used for the Little Boy bomb that had been dropped on Hiroshima, but that technique had been abandoned as not being effective enough. The French had developed Plasma separation, but abandoned it in the 1990s due to its high cost. They, and the Japanese, now used chemical separation. South Africa had developed an aerodynamic process for its nuclear weapons program. The Americans were now experimenting with lasers, but by far the most common method was the gaseous centrifuge.

There were several types, including Pakistan's heated Zippe Centrifuge, and some worked better than others, but they all had a couple of things in common: they were very delicate and you needed a lot of them. Hundreds of the latest models or thousands of the older first generation centrifuges were arranged in arrays and cascades, which on the first pass, brought up the concentration of U235 slightly, depending on how good they were and how well they were running. "There is one popular misconception though." The AECL physicist assigned to teach them about the devices told them. "And that is that you need to pass the material through the cascade many, many times to get the 80-95% purity you need for a nuclear weapon. That is not true. The concentration goes up proportionately with each pass. If your first cascade raises it a factor of three, from .07 to say 2%, then the second trip through it could be 6%, then 18%, then 54% and by the fifth trip it would be pure enough to sustain the chain reaction necessary for a nuclear weapon. The figures vary slightly, but you get the drift. If a country can enrich uranium to 5% for 'peaceful purposes' and stockpiles it, then it can enrich it to weapons grade in very short order."

"You'll be given detector kits disguised as ordinary objects." Bill Hanlan informed them after the AECL personnel had left. "It's as good as the stuff that the International Atomic Energy Agency inspectors have, but smaller. If anything is going on that shouldn't be in the places you are going to they'll pick it up. Now we're going to spend a couple of hours looking at imagery of the types of equipment you may see. You'll have to be able to recognize them all in order to tell if something is there that shouldn't be."

Lunch was brought in while they studied the images projected on a big screen. They looked at different types of reactors, cooling systems, processing equipment and containment systems. Then they examined close ups of weapons components, many of which had been stolen by Kain Algorath from secure servers in the countries they were going to. But after several hours of staring at hardware Silver broke the pace by briefing them on the personalities involved. He began by showing them the scientists that had been killed or had gone missing, beginning with the most recent and finishing with Hanlan's candidate for the first victim, Jack Fisher.

It was his university graduation photo. In it Fisher had his head slightly cocked and he was smiling with his mouth closed. "Good looking fella." Delores noted. One of the male foxes in the room snorted. "No really, I dig those cute little ears, and that button nose." The next image showed the Canadian physicist at the finish line of a mountain bike race that he had apparently won. His eyes were bright with triumph and his mouth was open in a victorious grin. "Whoa!" Delores exclaimed. "What big teeth he has!"

"The better to eat you with." Vikki muttered sarcastically under her breath, and then immediately regretted it. She had never really gotten along with Delores when they were trainee agents together. She thought that the blonde vixen relied too much on her sexual wiles to be a truly professional agent. But then she remembered that she used to feel that way about Marcel's partner, Geno also. However, the Polish cheetah had taken good care of her and Silver's kit Leslie when Vikki was a prisoner of a mad platapus who was bent on flooding all of North America to create a new habitat for his kind. Ever since then Geno had been their 'go-to' babysitter.

That reminded Vikki of something she had meant to speak to Geno about. While Silver passed out mission folders with individual target profiles in them the tall vixen turned in her seat to address her feline colleague.

"Geno," she began, "Are you and Marcel working tonight?"

"We have to go over some Ukrainian phrases." Geno answered. "That's about it. Why?"

"Dongo and I have to go out to Gatineau Park and practice evasion techniques, and Silver has to fly down to Washington overnight. I was wondering if you two would mind taking care of Leslie, if it's not too much trouble?"

Inside, Geno's heart soared, but she kept her expression neutral. "Sure Vik. I know Marcel likes to look after the little rug rat. You want us to stay overnight at your place?"

"You might as well." Vikki trusted Geno and Marcel's babysitting abilities, but was leery about their housekeeping skills. She preferred to keep Leslie in the more sanitary environment of their apartment. "Silver won't be back until tomorrow night and I'll be out until dawn. Just drop him at the day care in the morning. Oh, and if he shows you any pictures, fluffy things are sheep, he has a thing for sheep lately, red things with a smile are me and anything frowning is Silver. But don't tell the Marcel, he'll blab to Silver and I'll lose my advantage in the parenting game."

"Is that what parenting is all about?" Geno, who had grown up in an environment of nannies and private schools wondered. "Who's better than who?"

Vikki smiled and reached over to pat Geno's arm. "No, of course not. But you know how Silver is always going on with his 'everything's a test' bullshit. This is just my way of getting a little payback for a few things he pulled on me back in the day."

Geno grinned and ran two digits across her lips to indicate that they were sealed. The Chief of Staff could certainly be a pain in the ass. "I promise. No pillow talk to Marcel about your secrets."

Vikki made a small 'O' with her mouth and her eyebrows went up as she recalled something else about Marcel and Geno's habits that did not sit well with her either. "Unh, Geno."

"Yes?"

"Speaking of pillow talk. I know our place is kind of small, and you'll have to sleep in our bedroom, but ..."

"But?"

"But, could you and Marcel try not to break the bed again?"

"Uhm, sure Vik, but you know, when you buy that cheap Ikea stuff ...."

"It's oak, Geno, solid oak, with solid brass fittings. A three-hundred year old heirloom. It survived two world wars. My Grandmother hid under it when their house was run over by a tank. Their stone cottage was totalled but neither she nor the bed suffered as much as a scar. But you and Marcel managed to break it ... twice."

"Oh."

* * * * * * * *

After an early supper Geno and Marcel spent two hours playing and colouring with the four-year old kit. Geno correctly identified ten out of the twelve pictures Leslie drew to Marcel's four. Afterward they gave him his bath and put him to bed. They listened to him sing himself to sleep over the baby monitor and waited for another hour after he fell silent before turning in themselves. 'Turning in' in their case however, always included at least an hour of rough and somewhat noisy sex.

Conscious of the need to keep quiet for Leslie's sake and not break anything, Geno insisted that they conduct their business in the Apartment's big bathtub, without water that could splash and damage the walls, and with several pairs of Silver's socks stuffed in their mouths.

Marcel was a little reluctant to make love on the cold hard porcelain at first, and definitely against the idea of cramming a few of his bosses socks in his maw, but after Geno disarmed him and hog-tied him with a couple of Silver's neckties he had no choice but to comply. Actually, he found it kind of exciting, being a slave to her whims, unable to call out for help or mercy. Geno explored every inch of his body with her rough cat tongue before she untied his paws and stuffed her own mouth with socks. The conclusion was as wild as ever, but rather than the usual howls and hisses it was accompanied only by the sounds of laboured breathing through their snouts, the squeak of pads against porcelain and the occasional thump of a head against the tile wall.

After a marathon session in the tub they showered, washing each other tenderly before sharing Vikki's fur dryer.

"Why don't they have two?" Geno asked.

"Silver doesn't use one." Marcel replied as he fluffed his black fur. He had traveled with his boss on several occasions and knew the older fox's routine. "He just rubs himself with a towel and combs the damp fur back to let it dry on its own. It's a habit from his army days."

Geno shrugged as she luxuriated in the flow of hot air rifling through her locks. "His loss."

Vikki's antique bed was a king-sized one. Her ancestors had been well-to-do in the old country. Back in the isolated former safe house that Geno and Marcel shared they had a double, which was plenty considering Marcel's small frame. He had also developed a habit of sleeping right on the edge of the bed, in order to get out and get moving faster, a habit acquired growing up eith an abusive step-father until he ran away and from living on the streets afterwards. Geno liked to stretch out, and in their double she was always in contact with Marcel. But in Vikki's king bed she found herself alone on one side, barely able to touch her mate. And tonight she needed the comfort of his arms, because something was bothering her.

She shimmied over to his side and pressed herself up against his back. Marcel, half asleep, shrugged and mumbled "Gotta get up early, besides, you said not in their bed."

"I just wanted to cuddle." She replied.

Marcel was not one for nocturnal cuddling. He still slept like he was about to be attacked any second and could not sleep if someone's arms were around him. But he did not push her away. It was his nature to give her whatever she needed, even if it meant staying up all night while she hugged him in her sleep. He was not one for probing conversation either. He may know that something was troubling her but while he would do what he could to comfort her he would never come right out and ask what it was, so they lay like that for a long time. But it wasn't soothing as she had hoped, and forcing him to stay like this would be unfair. She decided to tell him what was on her mind, part of it at least.

"Does it ever get to you?"

"Does what ever get to me?" She could tell by his tone that he was fully awake.

"Killing, in cold blood I mean."

There was a drawn out silence before he answered. "The first time it did, a little. But then I told myself what Silver keeps telling us, that we're protecting others by removing these people."

"What about Buttmange and Rainshelter? That seemed more like punishment for releasing the allies' secrets. How did killing them protect others?"

"Buttmange had more important secrets than the ones he had already released, secrets that would put agents' lives in danger. With Rainshelter it was less cut and dried. A bunch of stuff that he released exposed wrongdoing and war crimes, sure, and he had plenty more embarrassing material, but he also had stuff that could really hurt our intelligence collection efforts. It's hard to say how many lives might be put in peril in the future because of that."

"But Kain wiped out all that data from Rainshelter's laptop and his back-up files didn't he?"

"Not all of it. I didn't tell you before the mission, in case you fell into the Russians' paws, but Rainshelter kept the best stuff separate, on a hard drive hidden somewhere only he knew, and encrypted with a code he kept in his head. Eventually the Russians would have gotten tired of embarrassing the States and pulled him in for interrogation, if only to find out what the NSA had on them. Killing him was the only way to guarantee that all that information stayed secret."

"And is that a good enough reason?"

"Yes." He declared firmly, too firmly. "Maybe. But it's done now and it can't be undone." He paused before continuing. "I guess it still bothers me a bit.

"What do you do when it bothers you?"

Marcel turned around and she could feel his eyes on her in the dark. "I come home to you, and we make love until the feeling goes away. What do you do?"

"Same thing." She lied before kissing him and moving back to the other side of the bed. Neither making love nor cuddling made the feelings go away. They just settled into an empty space inside her and waited until they were done to come back out again. She could only get rid of them when she filled that hole with something else, something that came rarely to her.

The few hours that she had spent holding the sleeping kit on the flight to Warsaw had been one of those times. Playing with Leslie tonight had been another.

Within five minutes Marcel was snoring lightly. Geno glanced at the clock and noted the time. She laid there, thoughts of Moscow and Rainshelter running through her head, and when she looked at the clock again she was not surprised to find that two hours had passed. She was just debating whether or not to get up for a pee and take something to help her sleep when she heard a slight sound from the hallway. Rolling out of bed she hurried to the door and opened it. Leslie was standing on the other side, holding a blue blanket in one paw and rubbing his eyes with the other.

"Where's mommy?" The kit asked in a sleepy voice.

Geno knelt down and pulled him into her, snuggling his between her ample breasts. "She and your daddy had to work tonight sweetie."

"Want my mommy."

Mommy will see you tomorrow, at the day ... at school." She corrected quickly. "Tell you what. Why don't you come sleep with Auntie Geno and Unkie Marcel in the big bed? Won't that be fun?" She picked up the sleepy kit and carried him toward the bed as she spoke.

"Okay." Came from somewhere around her right shoulder as the little kit put his arms around her neck.

Geno put him in the bed between her and Marcel but as soon as she lay down he shuffled over to her side and snuggled against her. Geno put one arm under his head for a pillow and the other around him. Suddenly, without warning, tears were coursing down her cheeks and she was pulling the little fox against her, hugging him tightly to her chest. He did not protest, just hugged her back and gave her a small kiss on the snout. "Don't cry, Auntie Geno. Mommy will be back soon." He assured her.

His concern just made her cry harder, but she stifled the sobs and wiped the tears on his head so she would not have to let go of him. Eventually the tears stopped and she relaxed her grip. Leslie was already asleep. She smoothed his fur where she had messed it up by the light of the digital clock and then put her arms around him again before settling into a comfortable position. She could feel his breath on her neck and the beat of his heart against her chest.

For the fifteen minutes it took for her to fall asleep she thought of nothing but how good it felt to hold him. There were no empty spaces in her at all, and she was at peace.

The FOX Academy series:

Book I - The New Breed

Book II - The Werewolf of Odessa

Book II.5 - The Love who Spied Me

Book III - The Curse of the Yellow Monkey

Book IV - Wait for No One

Book V - Dawn of Vengeance

Book VI - Unnatural Selection

Kain Algorath © Marcus X Light

Ophelia Cassidy Sommer © Devil Kitty

Joel Grigori © Joel the Lemur

Geno © Coyotek

Dongo Fett © Dongo Fett

Zachary Ember © EmberWolf

Grey Muzzle © Grey Muzzle