FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

He sat on the edge of his bed. The blinds shutting out the sun let streaks of light pass through its shutters to stripe him and the wall in daybreak. Slowly, the sun appeared from behind the horizon, the soft grays and reds of morning melting into the oranges and yellows of the new day.

Two knocks at his door preceded its opening. The bobcat turned his head to the intruder.

The intruder showed just his head through the door opening, his amber eyes fastened onto the bobcat and nodded. "You are awake. Good. Get ready. We are leaving in thirty minutes."

The bobcat blinked and shook his head. "I've been awake all night. Don't worry, I'll be ready." He turned his head from the intruder as the door snicked shut. Standing, the bobcat stretched stiff muscles, yawning as his joints creaked. He shook himself alert and opened a dresser to change.

A pair of black jeans and a t-shirt covered his sleek frame. His boots were laced up tightly soon after.

He opened the blinds with his paw, the morning sunlight hit his eyes, making him squint for a moment before they adjusted to the outside light. Another smoggy day, the sky around downtown was already browning over in the distance as the world awoke. The skyline, dotted with skyscrapers and the occasional tree, used to be clean and clear. Now if you were lucky you could see blue if you looked straight up into the air.

The bobcat shook his head. He looked down into the top dresser draw and rummaged underneath clothing until his paw met cold metal. Grasping it he pulled the Beretta 92F from its hiding place and checked the safety. He pulled the clip from the base of the grip and checked it also; eighteen hollow-tipped rounds sat in the staggered clip. Sliding the clip back he pulled the action of the handgun, hearing a hollow clink as a round was pulled from the clip and chambered. He flicked the safety on and tucked the pistol above his tail into his jeans and walked out of his room, locking the door behind him.

The intruder was standing in the hallway, glancing away towards the living room. Turning, the intruder revealed a wolfish complexion, long brown muzzle and amber eyes stared back at the bobcat, tall upright ears twitched and swiveled. He wore blue jeans, a black t-shirt and a leather jacket that fell to his thighs, beneath it shifted a Moccichi 48 semi-automatic shotgun. The bobcat guessed it was loaded with its standard 12 round clip. He knew the wolf carried four more clips in a pocket inside the coat, making sixty rounds total. The bobcat carried another three clips for his Beretta, giving him 72 rounds.

For once, the bobcat didn't think it would be enough. "Let's go," he breathed, "before I lose my nerve."

They stopped in an all night diner for breakfast, lingering over their meals in silence. Every few minutes one or the other glanced up quickly from their food to check to see if the other showed signs of cracking. Every time the wolf turned his eyes to the bobcat, the bobcat would notice, and bear his fangs in a feral grin. The wolf opened his jaws enough to show the bobcat his canines every time the bobcat raised his head a fraction of an inch to glance at his partner.

Finally the bobcat finished his meal, and wiped his short muzzle with his napkin. He leaned back and looked up at the wolf, who had finished his meal as well.

"Well, it's time." The bobcat observed, glancing at an analog clock rimed with neon lights.

"Yes it is Lou, however, I think the real question is: are we ready?" Lou, the bobcat, shook his head. "I don't have anymore a clue as to the answer as you do Darryl."

The wolf growled. "Great." Paying the waitress, the wolf stood a fraction of a second before the bobcat. "Shall we? I am sure they are waiting for us. We might as well oblige them by showing up at the appointed time and location." They walked from the diner and into the warming daylight. Hot wind whipped past them, dust picked up by the wind gathered in their head fur and made Lou sneeze. They climbed into their car: a black, slightly beat up 1989 Camaro Z28 and headed onto the freeway towards the sea.

Exactly two hours after local sun rise, at eight-eighteen a.m. the Camaro pulled up into a dockside warehouse, the loping bass of the exhaust note echoing off the walls of the warehouse as the car idled onto the pier half of the warehouse towards a waiting ship. The SS Tranquil Dolphin was scrawled in English and Japanese onto a container ship.

Lou felt the barrel of his Beretta digging into his tail-base as he drove the Camaro into the hull of the ship and turned off the engine.

"No one's here." He commented to the silence.

"No shit?" Darryl replied. "Maybe they have decided that the odds of two against sixty was too great against them. And they went home."

Lou ignored the sarcasm. "Seriously Darryl. They were supposed to meet us here, in the hold of this ship. Foy doesn't fuck around. If he said he'd be here, he will bloody sure as hell be here."

Darryl reached between his legs and pulled his shotgun from the floorboards of the Z28, "Yeah. You are right, of course. Something is wrong."

Lou sighed and unbuckled his lap belt and opened the car door. A second later he slammed the door shut and ducked down as a hail of automatic gun fire made sparks flash off the hull of the ship next to the car door.

"Shit! Where the hell are they?" He doubled over and drew his Beretta and flicked off the safety.

Darryl shifted to huddle down in the leg well of the passenger seat. "It does not matter much. They have us right where they want us to be Lou. I do hope they stop to ask questions instead of shooting first."

"Too late?" Lou pointed out.

A booming voice echoed over the ships PA system, "Men in the car, you will die if our sniper sees you so much as sneeze, stay where you are!"

A second voice carried over the first. "Who are you? Identify yourselves and throw your weapons out of the car windows." The Camaro's windows were instantly shattered by a short volley of machine gun fire.

Lou swore and shook his head. "At least we don't have to worry about rolling them down." He tossed his gun out the window and heard its clack against the floor a second before Darryl's shotgun clanged against the bulkhead.

Lou raised his voice. "My name is Lou, and my partner's is Darryl. I'm sure you know who we are, Foy."

The voice known as Foy didn't sound impressed. "Put your paws over your heads and come out of the car, slowly."

Lou growled, but did as ordered, as did Darryl. Padded footfalls pitted off the bulkhead of the hold and approached them, Lou turned to see what looked like a small army running up to greet them. They are wore body armor covering all but their paws, and in their arms were H&K MP-5's.

All but one carried the deadly submachine guns. The Siamese padding through the middle of the group carried a katana in his paws. He marched up to Lou and Darryl with no more sound than a whisper of fur.

Lou nodded his head towards the Siamese. "Hello Foy, good to see you again." The Siamese stopped and pulled the mask from his face, revealing his almost bleached white fur and lavender colored eyes. "You have a lot of balls coming here Lou." Foy pointed his katana towards the wolf. "And you, Darryl, have either bigger balls, or you are just plain stupid to come here with this sorry excuse for a feline."

Darryl frowned.

Foy pressed the tip of the sword into the wolfs throat. "Say nothing pup, if you want to continue breathing," he turned his head to Lou, "why are you here?"

Lou narrowed his eyes and swallowed a growl. "You arranged this, I was hoping you'd tell us why we're here."

The katana point was lowered from Darryl's throat. Foy took a step back and bowed formally to Lou and Darryl. "Hai, I did arrange this didn't I?" He chuckled. "And you two are either pretty paranoid or just dumb for bringing weapons. We wouldn't have fired upon your," he tilted his head and grinned, "fine, American automobile if we didn't see the shotgun in your paws, Darryl."

"You're going to pay for the repairs Foy Sauce," Lou deliberately used the nickname he pinned on his old friend to needle him. "I just had the Camaro worked on."

"Later, later my fine substitute for a lynx. Now, we shall have tea and discuss why I brought you here." Foy turned and sauntered towards the bow of the ship.

Lou growled.

"So, let me get this straight." Lou leveled a cool gaze at Foy, who was kneeling opposite of the table from Lou. "You shot up my Camaro, which was my first ever car, which YOU found for me in--"

"--As I told you, I am going to reimburse you for the damage caused--"

"--a new paint job and engine overhaul--"

"--dreadfully sorry Lou-san. As I said, I am going to--"

"--tell us that you want us--"

"--a new five point seven liter engine, with a Vortech S-trim supercharger--"

"--your own garbage, couldn't you just have one of your guys take care of it--"

"--KONI adjustable shocks and Hotchkis suspension upgrades--"

"--aren't your errand boys--"

"--and the permanent acquisition of my 1969 ZL1 Camaro."

Lou blinked. "Deal."

Darryl cleared his throat politely and looked at the hagglers, "I would like to add, if it is not too much trouble, a request as to my part of the payment for acceptance of this assignment with Lou."

Foy didn't bat an eyelash at the wolf. "One hundred and fifty thousand American dollars."

Darryl nodded sagaciously. "Acceptable."

Foy stood gracefully and looked at the pair. "Now, before I go and leave you to your assignment, is there anything you need that I might be able to acquire for your usage?"

Lou nodded. "Guns. Lots of guns."

"And little nifty gadgets and explosive thingies," Darryl added with a gleeful look in his eyes.

Eleven-thirty p.m., the following night, at another pier on the opposite side of the wharf. A skunk dressed in black leather stood guard outside a warehouse. He carried an AK-107 assault rifle. Beneath the leather coat he wore armor that looked like it could be spider-silk.

At eleven-forty-two p.m. he was relieved by a leopard with some sort of automatic shotgun. The skunk walked a short way down the pier to a dark corner. He placed his rifle down next to him and started the painstaking operation of unbuttoning his thigh and crotch armor plates to relieve himself.

"Figures, the hardest part of the damned armor to take off is the one you'd actually WANT to take apart quickly." His tail flicked impatiently as he finally got his armor off and began to relieve himself off the piers edge.

He whistled to himself softly, looking around at nothing in particular: the water, the dark sky, some crates to his left, his rifle sitting next to his left leg, along with his armor. To his right was another stack of crates, a metal pail, the muzzle of an H&K MP-5SD. . .

"If you ever want to live to use what's in your paws again I suggest you act like nothing's wrong and finish taking a leak."

The skunk nodded and looked back to his business. He was a professional mercenary, paid for his services, the last thing he wanted to do was get shot. Especially when the part of his anatomy that would be the first to go would be the last thing he'd want to see missing. "I'm due to check in every five minutes, if you kill me, the other guards will know something's wrong."

Lou nodded. "That's good, that's real good. You're a professional, I can see that. I also think you're just paid to guard some crates and make sure that no one gets by you. You're not in this for anything else but money. If you cooperate, you'll still get paid, only from myself and my colleague instead of your current employer. All ya need to do is stay good and cool, got me?"

The skunk nodded. "That's fine by me, tonight is the last night of my contract anyway." He had finished relieving himself a while ago, but kept his paws where they were. "Do you mind if I zip my pants back up?"

Lou shook his head. "By all means, just be real slow. You were paid to guard some stuff, now, I have another proposition for you. I want you to be paid to help blow some stuff up. I'll double your salary and do my best to see that nothing is traced back to you. You also get to keep the nifty gear, what do you say?"

"I like how you do deals, maybe I should have come to you looking for work instead of these blowjobs." The skunk turned towards Lou. "My name is Valentine."

Lou nodded. "My name is Hardball. When this is over, I'll give you a more believable name."

The radio on the skunk's hip crackled to life, "Gamma-one, report."

Lou and Valentine locked eyes, the skunk raised the radio to his muzzle. "Gamma-one here, all clear and I'm off duty. Gamma-six assumed guard at station one at twenty-three-forty-two hours, over."

"Roger Gamma-one, Gamma-six assumes guard, out."

Valentine clicked the radio off. "There are three guards outside the warehouse and one guarding the driveway to the pier. Four more inside, though the inside and outside guards have zero contact with each other. The outside guards move through six stations, each guard is six minutes behind the other. The pier guard doesn't move."

Lou nodded. "There is a length of rope twenty meters behind me, lower yourself to the service ramps beneath the pier. Three hundred meters down the pier you'll find a vehicle, there will be a wolf in a leather jacket nearby. Say 'shadowstalker' before he blows your head off, he'll know what to do." He placed a paw on the skunks shoulder. "You did the right thing my new friend. These people are bad. With a capital B."

Valentine looked into the bobcat's eyes. "And who are you, then?"

Lou smiled. "The closest thing to good this time and place has."

The leopard known as Raphael checked the breach of his Beretta auto-shotgun again. It was prone to becoming sticky and jamming when the first shell was fired. "Damn salt air messing with my fine Italian artillery." He clicked the weapon to 'safety test' and pulled the trigger. A dull chunk and the shell ejected from the breech and into his paw. Something wasn't right still, the metal was ringing somewhere. He blinked, hearing the faint whisper of sound again, but the weapon wasn't being fired. Whirling around he peered into the shadows melting into one another as an orgy of darkness, but found nothing to betray the sound to his sensitive ears again. "Must have been my imagination."

Lou snickered to himself and watched the leopard turn his back to mess with his gun again. If this wasn't such a serious job, I'd be having too much fun, when I get home I'm going to set aside a half hour just to get rid of all the laughing I've built up inside. From seeing Valentines face when I caught him with his pants down to this imbecile who's so stubborn he chooses to use a gun that jams more often than not.

The warehouse door was open halfway, more than enough for the bobcat to slip himself through the opening. He crouched down next to a stack of shipping crates, labeled sardines. He wrinkled his nose at the thought of fish and shook his head. Time enough later to be disgusted over sea-food, I've got work to do and a warehouse to topple.

In a pouch on his right hip, the gossamer weight of nanopolymer explosive shifted slightly. About a hundred times stronger than C-4 per ounce, the explosive silicon based clay could be detonated by an ultra-high frequency radio transmission, supplied by a little red button on the side of Lou's digital chronograph. Nifty toys indeed, sometimes having a weapons smuggler and car nut as a friend is a good thing. Thank you so much Foy Sauce.

A ball the size of the tip of his pinky finger was pressed into the side of a metal I-beam support. Lou estimated that he'd need four of these supports to blow for the warehouse to topple, and he'd put a palm sized gob of the stuff on each of the six barrels he was looking for. The resulting blast should vaporize the canisters and their cargo before it escapes into the air.

The soft thud of a boot against concrete behind him alerted him to the presence of one of the four guards inside the warehouse. Oh, shit. He'd better not be looking this way.

"Thought I heard a noise, and there ain't no rats in this warehouse, cept myself, heh."

Lou shifted so he could look in the direction of the rat. His foot paws slipped along the smooth concrete and didn't make a sound, giving him the passing glimpse of a long pink tail, and the wooden stock of an AK-74.

Lou's ear crackled for a moment as static washed through his earpiece. "How are things working out for you up there Lou? Are Foy's nifty explosive thingies coming in handy?" A wolfish giggle followed along another burst of static.

The bobcat sank his fangs into his lower lip to keep from bursting out laughing. "Stop it, you're going to make me give away my position you maniacal wolf."

Another giggle whispered into his ear. "You are in awfully good spirits considering we are on a mission, Lou. Are the thoughts of owning one of the rarest classic muscle cars getting to you?"

"Perhaps," Lou responded, "but probably more likely was running into that guard." He blinked. "Uhm, Darryl have you seen anyone--"

"Yeah, Valentine is sitting next to me right now."

Lou sighed softly in relief. He didn't want to hear that the skunk had been caped by the often trigger happy wolf. "Ask him if he knows anything about the interior of the warehouse, I could use a bit of help."

"Ask him yourself Lou. Err, Hardball." The soft singsong trill of Valentine's voice washed though Lou's earpiece.

"Oh, heh. I didn't expect you to be listening in. So, what have you got for me insofar as stuff I can use in here?"

Static was his answer for the better part of a minute, the bobcat leaned up against a heavy metal container to rest his legs. "Darryl told me what you were looking for: six heavily shielded barrels. I don't know how you found out about them, they didn't even arrive until 2200 hours. They're guarded in the center of the warehouse."

Lou grinned darkly to himself. "They didn't even exist until 2200 hours. Even if I told you what they were and how they got here, you wouldn't believe it."

Valentine chuckled. "Try me."

Lou sighed. "Well I've got a few minutes. Basically, you're looking at anti-proton and tachyon particles. Somewhere in the 99.99 percent purity range."

Silence on the radio for a few moments. "But that's just theoretical, Lou. People say that time travel is capable if you combine anti-proton and tachyon particles at around 85 percent spatial purity. But we don't have the technology to even create a one percent pure anti-proton."

"We don't. Yet." Lou countered. "But somewhere along the line, someone did, and brought it back here for someone to use. For whatever reason, I don't know, but I've been hired to destroy it all before it gets into someone's paws."

Valentine's voice was thick with concern. "Be careful, Lou."

Lou smiled and warmed all over. "I always am. Besides, I don't go anywhere without a babysitter. Darryl are you still there?"

"Of course," came the tart reply.

"Good. Grab some gear and hoof it up here. I need a diversion. Valentine, I'm trusting you to guard the car and our escape route. That's important, at least as far as actually getting rid of this junk."

"Yes sir." Valentine replied happily

"Sir? And hoof? I'm a wolf, I stalk, thank you very much." The radio clicked off.

Lou chucked softly and stretched his legs out. He carefully moved towards the center of the warehouse, following along the wall of the building and leaving little pea sized balls of nanopolymer explosive along his route. He wasn't going to risk leaving one micro-ounce of the particles or their containers left in existence.

He kept both his eyes opened for the four guards, and planned his movements to keep himself as far away from them and as close to the center of the building, and the barrels, as he could.

"Ahh, there they are. Now where's Darryl with that diversion?" Lou frowned and chewed on his lower lip. The barrels were indeed shielded and reinforced. They looked like they were made out of pure lead. Heavy containment barriers shimmered blue across the cylindrical sarcophaguses.

The three pounds of nanopolymer Lou had left didn't seem enough to scratch these things, let alone destroy them. Foy didn't screw around though, he had said if he didn't have the polymer around, he would have given them a clean, tactical nuclear bomb for him to use instead.

Foy hesitated to say 'bomb', because the device was only the size of a backpack. But it was pushing megaton class power, and would be more than adequate for vaporizing a mere warehouse.

Lou's brain screamed overkill, but the moment Foy explained why he had asked him to take this mission, Lou wondered if he shouldn't have packed an 800 megaton Long Tom hydrogen bomb instead.

Just as it did when Foy gave Lou his and Darryl's mission, the fur along the bobcat's arms neck and tail stood on end. It was just plain scary to see something that shouldn't even exist existing behind shimmering containment fields. "Not for much longer," he commented to no one but his consciousness.

A double-click in his ear told him Darryl was set up with whatever distraction he had in mind, Lou clicked his tongue three times against the radio mouthpiece in acknowledgement.

"Uhhha, hello? Someone ordered a pizza from Tails, and I am here to deliver." A wolf dressed in a striped smock and coveralls sauntered to the pier guard, holding a stack of pizza boxes balanced on one arm. "Come on man these things are hot, move your fur dude.

A collie in the clothing of the Wharf Security growled to the wolf and gestured with his rifle. "No one ordered a pizza here. Get the fuck out of here before I blow your head off."

The wolf took a step back. "Hey, just because our ancestors hated each other does not mean you gotta be hating on me man. Take it easy and call it into your boss or something, I am sure he will want these and a few dozen doughnuts to go with it. Jesus."

The bolt on the rifle slid back as the collie chambered a round, but he pawed at his radio. "Hold on a fucking second. Duncan. This is Gamma-two. Did some wise ass order a fucking pizza from Tails? You're kidding. Alright, what should I do? Yah, over and out." The collie shook his head. "It's your lucky day, buddy. You get to wait here while an escort gets here, then you get to deliver those pizzas--ooph!"

The guard doubled over as an MP-5SD put three bullets though the collie's muzzle and forehead. The wolf stepped over the twitching body and headed for the warehouse.

"So, like, you want me to put these pizzas down, here?" The wolf deliberately bent over the couch of a small lounge just inside the warehouse. A lion with a pair of Uzi's had picked him up just inside the perimeter and practically hauled him into the lounge, grumbling about food finally coming.

"Yeah, put them down there. You sure you can't stay for a bit? I'm sure you could tell your boss you got lost, or something."

"Aww man, nah. The wolfster never gets lost. He might chase his tail for a bit, but he always finds his way back home." The wolf flicked his tail back and forth along his back, while his arms rummaged with the arrangement of the pizzas. The lion was so enraptured with the wolfs hind-end he didn't see Darryl pull his MP-5SD from under his smock and pull the trigger once. A single bullet caught him in the throat and silenced any cries he may have choked out.

Darryl ripped the smock off, revealing jeans and a t-shirt. He reloaded the sub-machine gun and snuck out of the lounge.

"Lou, do you read? Your diversion is coming up in about forty-five seconds."

Lou blinked and ducked back down behind a pair of half-ton crates. "Valentine, I thought I told you to guard the car?"

"Yeah you did, and that's where I am. Darryl is on his way, he told me to relay this message, he was pinned down a moment ago and didn't want to alert the rest of the guards."

"Oh."

"Thirty seconds," Valentine counted off.

Lou checked his gun and made sure it was loaded, safety off. The nanopolymer was formed into six separate pieces already, poised to be molded to the barrels after the containment fields were deactivated.

Darryl counted down in his mind while he pawed at his belt for a sphere of metal the size of a fist.

Twenty.

He found the grenade and pulled it from his belt, raising the pin to his muzzle.

Fifteen.

The pin tasted metallic and cold in his mouth as he grasped it between his teeth and pulled.

Ten.

He heard voices about eight meters to his left; the remaining inside guards. Five. He released his breath and his hold on the grenade, letting it fly towards a group of crates next to the voices.

Two.

A startled, "What the--?" and the grenade detonated, not giving the two guards a chance to move.

"One, oops." Darryl grinned and clicked his radio. "Lou old buddy. You have your distraction, get those barrels toasted and let us get the hell out of here!"

"Easy for you to say, keep my tail covered!" Lou clicked his tongue against the frequency nub on his communicator. "Valentine, we're engaged, expect us shortly, and expect trouble."

"Alrighty Lou, I'll be on the lookout. Out."

Lou eased up into a running crouch towards the six barrels, his head on a swivel, constantly looking for a flash of metal, a glimpse of clothing or fur. His tall ears strained for the slightest whisper of boots or paws on concrete, of the action of a rifle being pulled and loaded or for the whispered crackles of radio-conversation.

Nothing surprised him as he reached the barrels and their containment shields. The low hum of the energy fields filled his ears. He made a slow circuit of the barrels, searching the crackling blue field surrounding them for a way to deactivate it. "Shit, shit, shit. There isn't any 'off' button." And any containment field strong enough to keep anti- particles from interacting with reality and detonating will easily keep explosive out as well.

He clicked his radio on again. "Valentine, you read" A click answered in the affirmative. "Listen, we've hit a snag and we don't have time to dick around here for much longer. Did you ever see what was powering these containment fields? Is there a switch or power unit around here somewhere keeping this stuff on?"

Valentine closed his eyes and tried to remember. "I-I don't know Lou, I remember seeing a few other blocky crates looking out of place when I went though the warehouse, about a hundred meters south of the barrels, they could have been portable power generators."

Lou bit his lip. "Are you sure? We don't have enough explosive to make a guess and be wrong."

Valentine sighed. "I'm not sure, but--wait, they have to be it. They had radioactive symbols on their casing and had couplings for plasma-coolant and steam on their sides, they're micro-fusion power plants!"

Lou nodded grimly, "That's about the only thing that would be able to power these kind of containment shields. Thanks buddy. You just saved me a lot of trouble, again."

Valentine grinned to himself. "No need to thank me, the pleasure's all mine. Just hurry up and get back here, my fur's crawling."

Darryl frowned and looked outside the warehouse towards the pier's entrance. There was a van approaching the guard post, with the capped guard dead just inside the small guard-shack. "Lou, hurry up. We are about to have company."

Lou had managed to shut off the first reactor, but the second was being a bitch. The magnetic-interlocks on the plasma weren't deactivating and scramming the reactor like they were designed to.

There was another way, cycling the valve for the deuterium fuel would cause the reactor to shut down by itself, but if the safeties weren't running properly, there was more of a chance it would over-heat and turn the warehouse into a mini-sun as it exploded.

Hmm, now there's a thought! "Darryl, get the fuck out of here, meet Valentine and get ready to haul ass off the pier! Meet me at the warehouse entrance in," he checked his watch and eyed the temp-gauge on the fusion plant, "five minutes."

Darryl wanted to ask why but turned and headed for the door instead. He'd have to haul tail to make it to the car and get back in the time Lou gave him. "Alright bud, but be warned there's five in a van that's coming towards us and I don't have time to stop them for you, you're going to be on your own with them if I'm gonna get the car back here in time."

Lou growled. "Don't worry about me, just get the car over here before we're all killed." He opened the service panel on the mini-power plant and put a bullet through the safety interlocks. A keening alarm sounded and a computer voice warned of a reactor malfunction. Lady, you're about to get a whole lot more malfunctions, he thought to the feminine voice bitching at him through the computer speaker. His paw tips flew over the controls. A dangerously over-simplified control scheme allowed Lou to set the reactor to overheat and go critical in exactly five minutes.

"Warning, temperature increase detected in primary plasma torus. Main coolant loss detected. Core breech is imminent. You have five minutes to reach critical safe distance."

Lou grinned and kicked the controls in for good measure. Sprinting, he pulled the six gobs of nanopolymer from his belt bag and wadded them onto the containment fields. He flicked his watch computer on and set the explosive to go off ten seconds before the fusion plant went critical.

He started the countdown with the little red button.

A shifting movement along the edge of his vision and a flash of something off the overhead lights alerted him to duck just as a burst of gunfire ricocheted off the concrete and containment shields. He dove out of the way and pawed at the strap for his MP-5SD as another burst of gunfire tore through the space his body was occupying a moment before.

He thumbed his gun to full auto and sprayed 9mm slugs back in the direction of the gunfire, a hollow whump and a cough and a clatter against the ground informed him of a very lucky hit. The remaining guns fell silent, and he could hear the whisper of feet against the ground as they moved around. Darryl said five, that's one.

His bare feet paws whispered against the ground as he moved towards some of the shuffling. Lou could move as silently as a whisper of wind when he needed to, and he used his full extent of stealth to approach the sound. When he could sense he was just around the corner from the noise, he eased the barrel of the gun around the corner and emptied the clip into the unknown.

A gurgle, cough and drawn out moan of pain before more than one thump against the crates and ground. Lou reloaded his gun and eased his head around the corner. Two more, making three.

Two left.

A burst of gunfire rattled out through the warehouse, but not directed at the bobcat. The lights exploded in a shower of incandescent light and glass, throwing the building into darkness. The backups clicked on a moment later, bathing the crates in an eerie red glow.

Lou poked his head up above a brace of crates long enough to see a pair of fox tails moving ahead of him. Sinking to his haunches he slinked across the open space between him and his prey, just as they turned around and spotted him.

The staccato chopping of a pair of M-4 Carbines deafened Lou's ears as he fell to his stomach a hairsbreadth before bullets tore him to shreds. An odd warmness tricked across his right shoulder, with scorching fire following along it's heals. Lou didn't have enough time to register the wound before he raised his arm and unleashed his return volley upon the pair of foxes. 9mm hollow tips peppered the pair, leaving their deadly marks tattooed upon their hides.

Lou panted and couldn't decide between cursing or moaning in pain, so he did both as he pulled himself upright and headed for the door at a jog.

"Lou, are you alright? We're waiting for you just outside." Along with the roaring of blood though his ears, Lou could hear the idling of the Camaro.

"I'll be fine, someone got lucky and tapped my shoulder. We've got three minutes to get off this pier before the warehouse turns into a star." A click in his radio and he pulled off the ear piece and spit the mouthpiece out, throwing both to the ground. He just wanted out of here, and a few bandages, and a glass of milk and vodka, and a certain leopardess, and then to curl up and sleep with said leopardess. The thought of his new car as payment didn't even enter into his mind as he kicked open the door to see his Camaro sitting there with Darryl at the wheel, with Valentine opening the passenger door for him.

He looked down at his shoulder for a moment, ruefully contemplating the stupidity of his wound. A shout from Valentine make him jerk his head back up just as the horribly loud rim-shot sound of an AK-47 pierced his ears, and a half dozen rounds of armor piercing rifle-rounds pierced his side.

Valentine saw a glimpse of something behind Lou as the big bobcat shook his head at his shoulder wound. He raised his Castech assault rifle and shouted at Lou to get down, but too late. A mist of red blood puffed from Lou's left flank and he fell to his knees and slumped over, giving the skunk an all-too easy shot at a rat holding the rifle, grinning.

He pulled the trigger of his rifle and let 5.45mm bullets disintegrate the rat's skull and shoulders.

Dropping the rifle he leapt from the side of the car to Lou's side. The bobcat's eyes were closed, his fur spattered with blood. He felt for a pulse and found one, barely. "Jesus, he's still alive. Darryl! Give me a hand!"

"We have to get him in the car and get the hell out of here before we're all dead." Darryl fell to the opposite side of the bobcat and pressed a t-shirt to the wounds. Blood saturated the cloth before a moment had passed, but they managed to get Lou into the Camaro and off the pier before a flash brighter then the sun erupted behind them. A shockwave powerful enough to make the car spin out under Darryl's paws crashed into them, spinning the car enough for them to make out what was left of the pier and warehouse.

Nothing. Not even the sea underneath was left, only a vaporized hole about 500 meters in diameter, the outside edges along the coast glassy and glowing. Water filled the void left when a million tons of seawater was vaporized, making a small scale tidal wave crash into the wharf side.

Darryl was quiet for a long moment as he got the car pointed in the right direction towards Foy's villa, knowing if anyone could save his more-than-half-dead friend, it was him. "We did it Lou. Neither of us know what we did exactly, but we did it."

For a long, long time; Lou knew only pain. He felt each impact of the fusillade of rifle fire, each bullet making an exquisite symphony of shock and pain ring though his body. Another, high pitched sound above his head signaled Valentine's exotic response to ancient Russian artillery. He heard both skunk and wolf talking above him, and another sharp pain as something was pressed against his exposed wound. He felt his life force seeping, no, pouring from his body, bringing weakness and an ever growing need for sleep, and peace. He willingly sought refuge from the pain in that peace, and embraced the light.

Then he knew nothing for a long, long time.