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Firestorm

Phase II - Deployment

Azim Crocifissio Bloedrye sat alone at the head of the large oval table that could seat twenty-two and ran his digits through this fluffy tail as he waited for his GHOST agents to report back. He had been sitting like that for over six hours. Although he looked idle, contingency plans and countermoves were whizzing through his brain at an amazing speed. If this was a game of chess he would already be twenty moves ahead of his opponent. But the only physical manifestation was a cramped paw and a tail that looked amazing.

A 'ping' sounded on the console in front of him announcing an incoming video communication. He untangled his paw from his tail and pressed a button on the control panel. Halfway down the table a chair exploded.

"Oops." Bloedrye pressed another button as he reminded himself to have that chair replaced before the next meeting. The screen on the console glowed to life revealing the face of the leader of the Somali jackals.

"Report, Number Nine."

"We have the document you sought."

"Does it contain the information we need?"

"Yes. The Russians say that with the data in it they can set the initiators with great precision."

"Excellent." The Persian paused, and when he spoke again his voice had taken on a falsely casual air. "Were there any, uhm, complications?"

"None, Number Two. The targets stopped unexpectedly but the tigers were able to complete the mission without exposing themselves to any of the security cameras and they escaped without casualties."

"Excellent. Remind me to commend Number Seventeen on his choice for his brother's replacement.

"Yes, Number Two."

"Meanwhile, commence Phase Two, deploy our assets. Pass it on to the rest."

"Yes, Number Two."

"That is all." Bloedrye leaned forward and pressed a button to close the connection. Two chairs away a giant iron spike shot up through the seat, impaling the cushion and lifting it ten feet into the air.

"Fuck."

* * * * * * * *

It was just before six o'clock in the morning, the time Silver usually got up to go to work, when his Blackberry began ringing insistently. At the same time it pinged to indicate that a private message had come in and then it chirped to say that a text had arrived from one of his contacts. Instantly awake, he snatched the device and his glasses from his bedside table. Naked, he sat up in bed, slipped the glasses on with one paw as he hit the answer button and raised the phone to his ear. An all-out effort to reach him at this hour had to be F.O.X. business. He could have put it on speaker phone but it might be something that Vikki was not allowed to hear, and she too was wide awake. He suspected that even Leslie was awake and on his way to their room by now. Vikki must have thought the same thing because she, also naked, jumped out of bed and began pulling on her nightgown as she headed to intercept the tyke.

"Silver." She heard her mate say as she reached the door. She slipped out into the hall and pulled their door closed behind her. Sure enough, the kit was already coming down the hall, wearing his superhero pyjamas and clutching his Pinocchio puppet to his chest as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

"Mommy?"

"It's okay, dear. Daddy's office called and he's on the phone with them. Let's get you upstairs and get started on breakfast while we wait for him, okay?"

"Sure, mommy." Leslie did a wavering about turn and headed back toward the stairs. Vikki caught up with him and took his paw in case he stumbled on the steps. As always she marvelled at how warm and comfortable it felt in hers.

She had time to pour Leslie's cereal and make a pot of coffee before Silver appeared in the kitchen. He was already dressed in slacks and a sports coat and had made a cursory brushing of his fur. She poured his coffee, black with no sugar, into a travel cup. She knew from the expression on his face that he would not be having breakfast with them, and she would have to drive Leslie to school herself. He reached into the bread box where they kept some energy bars for such occasions.

"Is it bad?" She asked as she passed him the cup. "Can you tell me?"

"Our couriers got hit in Brussels."

"Gray and Miss CC? Are they hurt?" All that she could think of when he said that they were 'hit' was that they had been involved in some sort of accident, knocked flying by a speeding car at one of the busy Brussels intersections perhaps.

Silver glanced at Leslie, who was talking to his puppet between mouthfuls of cereal, and lowered his voice. "They were shot. That's all we know. I'm going to the Academy now. The Duty Officer can call me on the paws-free if anything new comes in during the drive. If I can arrange it I'll fly over there today. Will you be okay with Leslie?"

"Sure." Both of their cars had booster seats in them, so she would not have to worry about Silver driving off and leaving her without one. She would have no trouble taking care of Leslie alone for a few days, but as the most senior agent on the roster she may be called on to work extra hours at any time should they identify the culprit and need to mount a response. Thank God that Leslie's school had contingencies for two-parent emergencies, she thought. "Give me a call later if you can."

"Sure. Love ya." He tilted his head up to kiss the cheek of his somewhat taller mate and was off, a half-eaten energy bar in one paw and his coffee in the other. She knew that it was likely the last thing he would have to eat for many hours.

"Is daddy going away for a while?" Leslie asked as she joined him at the breakfast table.

"Maybe. Probably." She corrected. F.O.X. currently had no senior agents permanently stationed in Europe so Silver would want to go over himself to manage the investigation. Marcel and Geno were supposed to have taken over the European regional office but after their involvement in the Rainshelter sanction and the recent fracas in the Ukraine it was felt that Europe with its heavy Russian Intelligence presence would be too dangerous for them. So Silver had sent them down to South America to run the F.O.X. station there. It would mean learning new languages, Spanish and Portuguese, but it would be a safer environment to raise their adopted kit, Aldwin.

While Leslie brushed his teeth Vikki made sure that he had everything that he might need for an overnight stay at the school. She could be sent away at any moment, depending on what Silver discovered in Brussels. The spare clothes and pyjamas they had sent to be kept at the school should still fit and the weather was warming up so he would not need anything warmer to supplement it. She packed extra of his favourite snacks knowing that he would not eat them all at once. After she was done she settled the kit in the family room where he began to take apart the gift basket he had been assembling for Ms. Cohen.

"Why don't you leave it for your new EA?" She asked. They had told him about the death of Ms. Cohen the night before but had left out the details. He had a lot of questions about death and they had tried to answer then as best they could. Afterwards he had gone silent, and she was afraid that he might be dwelling on it too much.

"I don't know what she likes yet." He replied with a hint of impatience. "She might not like the same things as Ms. Cohen did." He was carefully removing everything he had made them buy from the kosher section of the supermarket.

Logical Leslie, she thought, using the nickname she and Silver used for him when he was stating the obvious, as he saw it. They had explained about how some folk ate certain types of food or avoided others because of their beliefs, and how such beliefs could dictate how one dressed, what forms of entertainment one could partake in or the level of technology one could use. At first he had trouble distinguishing the Mennonite farmers that lived nearby from the Orthodox Jews that lived in the city's west end and the Muslim woman who ran the local Dry Cleaner's from the old Italian matrons that lived in Ottawa's Little Italy district just north of F.O.X. headquarters, but he soon got the hang of it.

"Okay." She conceded. "But don't throw any of it away until you find out who the new EA is." She left him to his chore and went to shower and dress.

The drive to Ottawa was pleasant. It was a sunny day and the fields were greening up nicely. There were several routes Vikki could have used but she took the one that gave the best view of the Gatineau Hills on the other side of the Ottawa River. The sight of them always seemed to help her relax. In the back Leslie played with his Pinocchio, asking it what kind of creature they might get as the new EA and providing the answer for the puppet in a deeper voice. Pinocchio was hopeful that they would get someone exciting, like Auntie Geno, but would settle for someone more sedate, if they were nice and knew how to sing. Vikki resisted asking Leslie how his puppet knew about 'Auntie' Geno since it had never met the Polish leopard before.

The drive to the school was uneventful and they arrived at the usual drop-off time. Having set the child locks on the rear doors when Leslie was an infant Vikki had to go around the vehicle to let Leslie out after he released his seatbelt. By the time she did Missus Babcock had spotted them and was on her way over with another female in tow.

Vikki could see that the older badger's eyes were red from crying. She had gotten along well with her EA and fielding the questions of the children must be hard on her, Vikki supposed. Leslie gave missus Babcock a card of condolence he had made before going to bed the night before. There was a drawing of Ms. Cohen with angel's wings inside and that set the badger off to crying again. Vikki, who at Silver's insistence had gotten into the habit of reading everyone she met, used the opportunity to study the other female, who she assumed was the new EA.

She was a rabbit with sun bleached fur, although the hair on head was darker and streaked with grey. Her long ears fell back over her head, but did not hang straight down like a lop's would. She was slightly overweight, but still very attractive; handsome some would say. She had a large bosom and wide hips, a matronly type that would appeal to kits and cubs Leslie's age, as well as certain adult males. She was not wearing much makeup, just a trace of blue powder on her cheeks. Vikki could see tell-tale wrinkles around the eyes and brown spots on the skin where her fur was sparse. She was dressed in a simple style that was perhaps better suited to a warmer climate and her voice, as she comforted Missus Babcock, had a slight lilt that Vikki associated with deserts and mesas. From these clues she guessed that the rabbit was in her early to late fifties and from one of the Native American tribes located in the American south west but which tribe Vikki could not tell, and a recent immigrant to Canada.

Vikki checked the rabbit over for jewellery that might tell her more but the rabbit was not wearing any. That was not unusual, teachers and EAs in the lower grades were discouraged from wearing necklaces or ear baubles that little fingers might get tangled in or little mouths swallow. But the rabbit had an indentation in the fur around her neck which indicated that she habitually wore a heavy necklace. Perhaps she only took it off when she was working, Vikki supposed. There were no similar indentations on her digits, especially the third digit of the left paw. But that did not rule out the possibility that she was or ever had been married, Vikki thought, glancing at the bare digits on her mechanical paw.

Missus Babcock finally composed herself and turned to Vikki. "Ms. Beausoleil," she began, "I'd like to introduce our new EA, Miss Ruth Pawstone."

Vikki had already offered her right paw to shake and was surprised at how strong the rabbit's grip was. The body under that fur was not all fat, she suspected. "Miss Pawstone, a pleasure." She smiled and held the rabbit's eyes as Silver had taught her when reading a subject. "How are you finding it here in Canada?" She saw some surprise and a bit of shock in the rabbits eyes at the question but that quickly disappeared.

"Well, it's pleasant, but a bit more humid than I'm used to."

"Ottawa is like that," Vikki told her, "hot and humid in the summer, cold and humid in the winter. But you'll get used to it, if you stay long enough." There was an implied question in her tone.

"I don't know if I'll be staying beyond this contract." The rabbit replied. "I've only recently become an Education Assistant. My Husband and I worked in the, ah, pharmaceutical sector back home, but he passed away recently. We never did have any children and without him the house was so lonely. So I volunteered at the local school and studied as an EA at night."

"Really! I'm sorry for your loss. But, how in the world did you end up here, Ruth?"

"Everything I saw reminded me of my husband and I needed a change of scenery. I applied to teach out of the country, expecting to be assigned to somewhere in Asia or Africa. I was so surprised when the agency suggested that I take a job in Canada, but they said that many overseas teachers and EAs get homesick before their assignments end and come home early. A short assignment someplace closer to home where the culture was not too different would allow me to see if I was suited for this kind of work, they said."

It made sense to Vikki, who had run into many lonely foreign workers while on assignments overseas. "It sounds like a well organized agency." She commented. "Best of luck, and if you need any help or advice just ask Leslie," she indicated her son, "and he'll pass it on to me. Don't worry about him forgetting, he has a wonderful memory for that kind of thing."

"I'll keep that in mind." Ruth responded, and then she turned to the kit. "So, Leslie. What do you have there?"

"His name is Pinocchio." Leslie replied, holding up the puppet for her to see. "He's a rabbit, like you."

"Not like me." She smiled. "He's an Italian rabbit. I'm a bunny, from the Cuni tribe. We were here in the America's long before any of our European cousins came over to settle. Come with me," she held out her paw, "and I'll tell you all about it as we walk to class, if you are interested."

Leslie tucked his puppet under one arm and took her big fluffy paw in his. "I like learning new things." He said, matter-of-factually.

"Good." The older bunny said with a twinkle in her eye. "I can see that we are going to be good friends." She waved goodbye to Vikki as she turned and led Leslie into the school.

"She seems nice." Vikki commented to Missus Babcock as the bunny disappeared through the big oak doors with her kit. "And Leslie has taken too her. That's a good sign."

"Yes." Missus Babcock replied. "I think that she is going to work out just fine."

* * * * * * * *

Gray was surrounded by a grey fog. He seemed to be lost in it. It grew thicker and thinner but never dissipated entirely. Sometimes he could hear voices, and other times he could see shadows of movement, as if there were others here in the fog with him, just out of sight. It reminded him of the time the old nun, formerly a F.O.X. agent known as Scarlet, had told him about her near-death experience. She had been all but decapitated by a double agent, but Silver, her lover at the time, had forced the surgeon to sew her back together at gunpoint after they had given her up for dead. Her description of the shadowy grey land she had found herself in matched this quite closely.

Gray looked up. He could see a light somewhere up there. As he watched it grew brighter, and he was afraid. Wasn't it called 'going into the light' when one crossed over? But it was not death that scared him, it was the possibility that his past sins would catch up with him on the other side. Would it be wiser to go towards the light or flee from it? Was it the gateway to the blissful hereafter? And would he end up someplace worse if he avoided it or was it the portal to both possibilities? It would all depend, he thought, on who was waiting for him on the other side.

The light became almost unbearable, but then it was blocked by the silhouette of a head, a large furry head. The light made a halo around it, making it impossible to see the creature's features. But it seemed to glow with silvery light, and Gray heard it calling his name. He was filled with warmth at the sound.

I'm in heaven, he thought.

The creature stepped aside and the light illuminated its face. It was a stern face, with a vertical scar through its left eyebrow. The face of his boss, Silver.

Correction, Gray mused, I'm in hell.

"Gray! Can you hear me?" Silver turned his head to address someone outside Gray's range of vision. "I thought you said that he was coming around?"

"He's lucky to be breathing on his own. Give him a break."

Silver muttered something about doctors being a necessary evil and leaned down to Gray again.

"Gray. It's me, Silver. Are you awake Gray?"

"I don't know. Am I dead?"

"No."

"Oh? I remember ... shots ... blood ... being hit ... pain in my chest." He felt his brow furrow in confusion. "Why aren't I dead?"

"Here. Let's sit you up." Silver signalled to whoever it was in the room with him and Gray felt the bed elevate. As his head raised his vision cleared and he could see that he was in a typical hospital room, but the doctor beside Silver was not dressed in white, he was wearing a powder blue Canadian Air Force uniform. From the number of rings on his epaulettes Gray guessed that he was at least a Colonel. The pointer, that is what he looked like anyway, was frowning at Silver.

"This fox has three broken ribs and we just re-inflated his lung." The canine chided Silver. "It's too soon to be questioning him."

"You have your orders." Silver said absently as he checked Gray's eyes for signs of dementia. "You can run along now. I'll buzz if we need any medical assistance."

The Colonel let out a loud "Hrumph!" but he left, pulling the door closed behind him.

Silver made a "vee" with his right paw in front of Gray's face. "How many digits do you see?"

"Five." Gray answered, and was secretly pleased when Silver frowned. "But only two are extended." He added.

"I see that being shot hasn't curbed your insubordination." Silver's mouth was still frowning but he looked relieved also. "You've been out for three days. Can you recall what happened after you left NATO Headquarters?"

Gray told him about their decision to take the train to Parc Leopold and cross over to the EU parliament building from there. He recounted how Miss CC had kept an eye out for recurring faces and how she had not picked up anything suspicious. With some embarrassment he related how they had arrived early and stopped for waffles at his insistence.

Gray's voice sped up as he reached the climax. "Then two of the three tigers we had seen turned and fired on us. Miss CC went down on the table. I was sitting there with a mouth full of waffle when they shot me. Silver, I felt the shots hit my chest! I felt them tear into me! Why didn't I die?"

The big fox lifted a briefcase up and opened it while he balanced it on one paw. From inside he pulled a battered object inside a clear evidence bag. Gray recognized his new tablet in its reinforced leather case, the gift from Miss CC. Silver put down the briefcase and passed the bag to Gray. Through the plastic Gray could see four jagged holes on the tablet side of the case and four bulges on the keyboard side. Everything in-between was a wreak.

"Small calibre guns with low muzzle velocities reduced even further by the silencers." Silver commented. "They are designed more for accuracy and concealment than stopping power. Still, if it wasn't for the steel sheets for the magnetic keyboard I doubt that we would be having this conversation." Silver stopped. He had noticed a tear trickling down Gray's cheek. "What's wrong?" He asked.

"Miss CC. She just had a light jacket on. I saw four holes in her back before the impact of the next volley knocked me down." He buried his face in his paws and started sobbing. "This is all my fault! If only I hadn't insisted on stopping for waffles!"

"Listen up agent." Silver said sternly. "In the first place, Chienne-Caniche was in charge, and she made a decision to stop in a public place in one of the most secure cities in Europe. She made the call, not you, and it is not your place to second guess her decision. Secondly, you would have been hit regardless. They were there waiting for you. From out analysis they were planning on hitting you as you walked down the tree-covered lane toward the parliament building. The usual tactic is to let the target go by and them turn and fire into their backs from point blank range. Stopping to eat out in the open put a kink in their plans. They had to shoot from much farther away, and they did not have time to finish you off. You can thank your stars for those waffles and the tablet in your map pocket. They saved your life. And you managed to keep your head even after you were shot. You yelled 'fire storm' and 'ghost' at the guards, is that right? We're running down all the references to those words and if there is even a whisper of them in the ether we'll find it. And the hairs you grabbed from the assassin, they'll be analyzed and maybe we'll get a hit on their DNA."

Gray understood what Silver was trying to do, but he still felt like his heart had been torn from his chest. He lowered his paws, but the tears would not stop flowing. "But Miss CC ... she sat across from me so that she could watch my back and I could watch hers. But I was too busy stuffing my face. Now she's .... she's gone."

Silver put his paw on Gray's where it lay on the sheet. "Listen to me Gray." He said in a softer voice than Gray had ever heard him use. "Marie is not dead. She's still hanging on. She is one tough bitch and the security guards that were first on the scene did the best they could for her. We had you two evacuated to an allied hospital that our military use when they are injured in theatre. It's the best place in Europe for this kind of injury. I won't lie to you and say that her chances are good, but we haven't given up hope yet."

"You think she may be okay?" Gray sniffed. "That she'll get all better?"

Silver sat back, a sad expression on his face. "No. Not all better. One of the shots hit her spine. She will probably never walk again."

* * * * * * * *

Although quite capable of conducting open source research on those areas of the internet open to the public, and of hacking into many of those that were not, Kain did not have the resources he needed at F.O.X. to conduct proper Signals Intelligence. So he met once a month with the agency that was responsible for SIGINT, along with representatives from a number of other departments. At these meetings the intelligence provider briefed the clients on the trends they were seeing, and in turn the clients passed on their intelligence requirements. Kain had already passed on the words "Fire" and "Storm" to be searched separately as well as together and "Ghost", but he brought it up again for the benefit of the other analysts in the room. None of them could recall coming across the terms but they promised to keep an eye out.

The representative from the Department of Natural Resources stood next to brief the group on the contents of the envelope that was stolen from the couriers.

"It's very bizarre." The feline from Natural Resources began. "The documents in the courier envelope were scientific papers, dealing with the chemical composition of the bitumen in the oil sands of Alberta and Saskatchewan, with maps showing the extent of the deposits. Hardly anything worth killing someone over."

"So why was it classified Top Secret?" One of the analysts asked.

"Because we are fighting off a movement by certain members of the EU to have a crippling tariff placed on our oil. A tariff is the last thing we need with oil prices already plummeting. The Green faction claims that our Oil Sands oil creates more pollutants than other forms of oil. They are also claiming that it is more volatile and should be banned from being transported in Europe."

"Is any of that true?" Kain asked.

"No, not really. It is true that it takes more energy to get it out of the ground than say a fresh Saudi well does, but that will be offset by energy savings in transporting it by pipeline, if the pipelines ever get approved."

"What about the volatility? Wasn't the rail shipment that destroyed the town of Lac Megantic from the Tar Sands?" Another chimed in.

"Oil Sands." The feline said between grit teeth. "We call them Oil Sands, not tar sands. Or, if you prefer, Petroleum Bearing Silicate Layers."

The representative from Transport Canada leaned over to Kain and whispered. "Don't ask him about coal. Coal is a dirtier word than Tar Sands over at Resources."

"In any event," the cat continued, "That was heavy crude from North Dakota that exploded and burnt down Lac Megantic. The papers that were stolen only showed that the bitumen, a thick, almost solid form of ..."

"Tar." Someone interrupted.

" ... Oil. They show that it is actually less volatile than sweet crude or even heavy crude. It's very safe to work with. You'd have to give it quite a jolt to set it off.

"Is there anything else?" The chair of the working group asked the cat from Natural Resources. They were falling behind time and he had a lunch date with his mate.

"Yes, one more thing. Our IT security techs tell me that we have been getting hit hard the last week or so. Someone is probing our firewall, looking for information on energy, the geology of the Arctic, permafrost, the Fire Information System, coastline maps, a real mixed bag."

"Do they think that it's all the work of the same group?"

"Yes, they do. But they have no clue who. They were able to chase down a couple of IP addresses that they think your gang should check out." The cat read off a string of numbers. The secretary of the meeting wrote them down to pass onto the appropriate analysts. Kain wrote them down too.

* * * * * * * *

Kyroo Echos was bored and lonely. There had been a lot of scurrying around in the three days since the couriers had been shot but not much action. All of the agents were on alert, ordered to remain close to the farm, and to conduct extra training in the event they were sent out to recover the missing documents, or avenge the couriers, or both. For established teams, like that of his friend Zac Ember and his senior agent, Delores "Babydoll" Johnson, that meant long hours working together on the combat range and on infiltration or evasion exercises. Kyroo's supervisor, Vikki Beausoleil, should have been out there doing the same with him, but as the most senior agent in Ottawa she had taken on some of the Chief of Staff's administrative duties in her mate's absence. That meant that Kyroo had to work alone when the facilities were free, doing repetitious weapons drills and exercises designed to improve his skill and endurance. Hopefully Silver would wrap up the Belgian end of the investigation soon so that she could go back to just being a senior agent, Kyroo moaned to himself.

Along with all of the agents off training elsewhere, all the analysts, like his fellow American Kain Algorath, were working eighteen hours a day in the Ops Centre, where Kyroo, as a junior agent, had no access. Even the kinky little lemur that ran the forgery section had been sucked in to assist with the analytical effort and the medical staff were all consulting with the staff of the hospital in Europe, so during the normally bustling daylight hours the Academy was like a ghost town.

While the day times were bad he at least had the blessing of being busy. Night times were worse, because even if some of the other staff wanted to sit and socialize there was no place to do it, the agent's lounge was closed due to Gray's absence. The rest of the catering staff having been pressed into service keeping the analysts feed and hydrated in the headquarters conference room. He was lucky to see Zac or Kain dragging their ass through the hallways of the agent's dorm on their way to bed for five hours sleep before getting back to whatever it was they were doing. Actually, he knew what Zac was doing; Zac was practising night climbing on the Gatineau Bluffs with Babydoll. An exercise that Kyroo thought was sure to end up with Zac and Babydoll having agile sex suspended a hundred metres off the ground.

She had treated Kyroo to a few similar sessions when he first started here. Kyroo grinned and rubbed his crotch absently as he remembered some of her more inventive scenarios. But once she was confirmed as Zac's senior agent and Vikki was confirmed as his she had concentrated her efforts on her junior partner. Kyroo had no such luck. Vikki was the opposite of Delores, that is to say, monogamous. It was bad enough that she was mated, but worse that her mate was Silver. Every time the Chief of Staff dropped by to see how the training was going Vikki was either showing him wrestling moves or giving him seduction tips, and whenever Silver walked in when he had his paws on Vikki he could feel the sights of Silver's old Glock-17 homing in on him. It did not help that he had to suppress carnal desires each time the tall gorgeous vixen touched him.

So along with being lonely and bored Kyroo was sexually frustrated; a bad combination in a secret agent. But then, he was still a junior agent, and junior agents were known to make a few mistakes. Since he was not strictly confined to the Academy grounds, deciding to go out to see if he could find a little action would probably not count as a mistake. Deciding to go to the bar at the nearby Dow's Lake pavilion probably was.

The Bar at the pavilion was famous in Academy annals because it was the first drinking hole one encountered after leaving the grounds of the Experimental Farm which housed the agency. It had changed names and owners numerous times over the years, sometimes serving Italian cuisine, other times Mexican fare, and once Thai food, and the decor had gone from English Pub chic to Bavarian Tavern noir and then to Fifties nostalgia, but several things remained constant: there were always at least three big-screen Televisions showing hockey in the winter and other sports the other three months of the year, the waitresses all looked better in the dark and the competition was fierce for the rare single female. Although fierce was a relative term in a bar frequented by government bureaucrats and tulip lovers.

One night before he had left for South America, while treating him and Zac to a beer after a training session, Marcel had told Kyroo about the place. Every class had a student or two that tried to sneak out past security before their curfew was lifted. Those that succeeded all made a bee-line for the pavilion, where they tried to get laid to add to their fame. Most were seduced by F.O.X. instructors that they had not met yet, and used as 'how not to' examples in the resisting seduction class. At that point Zac had smiled and nodded in embarrassment. Others, Marcel said, were either intercepted by the RCMP Counter-Intelligence Squad, seduced by enemy agents, or both. And here Marcel had solemnly tapped his own chest.

"Has anyone ever succeeded in getting out, getting laid and getting back without getting caught?" Zac had asked. Marcel had shrugged, but a voice from down the bar answered.

"Two have." Rederick 'Rusty' Nayles, the Academy Combat Instructor had said as he put his beer down on the bar. "Silver did it in Eighty-two, and Scarlet did it in Seventy-one."

"Humph. Easy for her." Marcel had commented. "A female can get laid anytime."

"She seduced a homosexual priest." Rusty had rejoined. "And yiffed him on the canon of the Naval Memorial outside the pavilion. Poor guy hung about the area mooning for months afterwards."

"Wait, isn't she the one who's a nun now?" Kyroo had heard about that one, and if only half of the stories Gray had told him were even half true ...

"Silver told me that she's finishing her days atoning for her sins." Marcel informed them.

"Hope she's on the accelerated plan." Rusty had snorted. "Cause she's got a lot to make up for. Why, this one time ..."

The conversation had taken a decadent downward turn at that point. What they talked about after that Kyroo could not remember, but he did remember feeling disappointed about how, having never having gone through formal training, he had missed out on taking part in this particular ritual. Remembering it made him feel lonelier and more like an outsider than before.

And since he was bored, sexually frustrated, and feeling left out, he decided to go visit the pavilion, just for a quick peek, of course.

There was a lot of extra security because of the attack. They were still not certain whether it was meant to acquire information or if it was some sort of revenge attack meant to embarrass F.O.X., and until they were sure the extra patrols, cameras and sensors would remain active. Kyroo was not confined to the campus but rather than just walking out and showing his badge to the guards he decided to practice his escape and evasion skills by sneaking past security. That was, after all, how the regular members of the Academy had done it, and he could claim he was just practising for an upcoming mission if the guards caught him.

He donned a dark hoodie, black trainers and jeans and slipped out a window in the dorm that he figured would be a blind spot in the video surveillance. From the sill he climbed to the roof and traversed the building, keeping his head down below the ridge of the roof and using the angled corners to slip around to the other side. A quick slide down a sturdy drain pipe and a three hundred-foot crawl along a low ditch got him past the ground sensors. Keeping his pale fur under the hood of his sweatshirt he listened for the sound of the foot patrol and waited not only until they had gone past, but until he heard the insects along their route recommence their mating songs. Then he made a dash for a group of ornamental trees that marked the limit of F.O.X. territory. Once on the other side he was in the Arboretum of the National Botanical Gardens and he could stroll or jog casually along like any other late evening visitor, or which there were several even this early in the year. Keeping the trees between him and the perimeter cameras Kyroo walked down to the path that followed the canal and turned north to head toward the top of Dow's Lake and the Pavilion.

It was a short walk and Kyroo arrived at the bar just before ten. There was a late season hockey game playing on the big screens, but not a crucial one judging by the sparse crowd. Kyroo took a seat at the end of the bar so no one could approach him from behind. He ordered a beer and surveyed the other customers.

"Watch out for innocuous looking mammals." Marcel had warned him when he was asked to educate the new agent on counter-surveillance techniques. "The Counter-Intelligence surveillance team uses species that you never suspect would be cops - weasels, gerbils, dwarf rabbits - mostly males because even pain females get too much attention in a bar. They will be sitting alone and never seem to looking at anyone."

There was no one like that in the bar at the moment. There were a few small groups of males watching the hockey game, an older canine couple and one group of female felines his age. He made eye contact with one but she looked away with a slight frown. At one hundred and eighty-seven centimetres and ninety kilograms with compelling blue eyes Kyroo was physically attractive enough, but his attire did not scream wealth and stability, and this was not the kind of bar where females came looking for a bad boy-toy to spend the night with, or so it seemed.

There were no other prospects. No femme fatale form the Russian secret service sucking seductively on a cocktail toothpick or licking luscious lips. No Suzy Wong from the Chinese embassy in a push-up bra and slit silk skirt. Not even a British Cocker Spaniel with an umbrella and high heels between assignments for MI-6.

Kyroo sipped his beer and sighed, so much for adventure and romance. He couldn't even look forward to a hangover because two beers was his limit, any more made him ill. Fortunately his new line of work did not rely on drinking your opponents under the table as much as it used to. He debated whether to even bother finishing his first before heading back to the farm, and was about to stand up when the door opened and she walked in.

She was a rabbit. A rabbit with a tuft of dark fur between her laid back ears but light fur over most of her body. Kyroo could tell because her dress showed most of it. It was a tightly wrapped little black number that showed the top half of her well-rounded breasts, clung to her hips and ass and ended at the top of her thighs. She was average height, and perhaps a little overweight, but it was distributed nicely, emphasizing her curves. Kyroo had always preferred his women tall and slim but there was a certain allure to a body you could sink yourself into. Stiletto heels gave her legs definition as she sashayed across the floor to take a chair two down from Kyroo. As she sat Kyroo could see that there was a little grey in her hair. She had not tried to cover it up, but she had put on some makeup, some lipstick, eyeliner, and a trace of blue powder on her cheeks. She had been around the block a time or two by the look of it, but there was still a lot of mileage to go her body seemed to say as she eased it onto the tall bar chair.

Someone scored in the hockey game but no one cheered because all male eyes were on the rabbit. Most of them had hungry looks on their faces. Even the old canine smiled in appreciation, earning a tap on the snout from his mate. The felines watched her too, but their expressions revealed their opinion about older females that dressed like females their age, and it was not a favourable one. They looked at her like she was a whore. Kyroo suspected that they might be right.

She gave Kyroo an appreciative lock that lingered where his paw was resting on his thigh. After a pause where a more eager lad might have offered to buy her a drink she ordered her own, a tequila with club soda, a Juan Collins she called it. She sipped it slowly as the hockey fans went back to their game. The canine couple left laughing about something and the felines called for their bill. While the felines argued how to split the tip four ways when one of them had ordered more expensive drinks than the others the rabbit turned to Kyroo and spoke.

"You know, there was a time when a lady could count on a gentlemale to buy her a drink in a bar."

Kyroo, who was still wondering if the rabbit was the kind of lady that worked evenings, replied. "That was probably in the same epoch that ladies did not go to bars unescorted."

"Touché!" She raised her glass in a small salute. "Times have changed. And so has the weather." She added with a shiver. "At least for me anyways." She wrapped her arms across her chest and rubbed her bare shoulders. It made her look vulnerable, and Kyroo relaxed a bit.

"Oh?" He asked. "I thought it was a pretty warm evening for this time of year."

"For you Canadians maybe, but I've just moved here for work and I'm not used to it yet. I come from a hot, dry place."

"Yeah, you sound like you come from Arizona, New Mexico way." Kyroo stuck out his right paw. "Kyroo. I'm an expat American myself."

She turned her chair to face his and took his outstretched paw with the tips of her digits and gave it a little shake. "I'm Ruth, and you're close." But she did not elaborate. She had to lean into him to reach his paw and the angle of her torso gave him a good view of her cleavage.

"What brings you to sunny Ottawa, Ruth?"

"Early childhood education, and you?"

"Security work."

"Really? You work nearby?"

Kyroo frowned slightly. "Why do you ask?"

"I saw you walk in here from the trail by the lake while I was parking across the street. There are no residences in that direction, just some government buildings and the gardens. You look like a regular and I figured that you had stopped in for a drink on your way home from work before grabbing a bus on Carling." She shrugged and turned back to face the bar. "Guess I was wrong."

Kyroo knew he was not to reveal his association with F.O.X., or any connection to the Experimental Farm because foreign agents might make the connection. But he felt bad for the apparent snub. "No, you're correct, to a degree." He said quickly. "I do work nearby, but father out than that. I just like walking. Actually, I have never been in this bar before."

She turned back and pulled her chair a little closer. "Me neither. I got a place west of here and this is my first free night since I unpacked. I felt like getting out amongst the locals so I just got in the car and drove until a saw a bar, and this was it."

Since it looked like they were going to have a conversation after all Kyroo moved to chair beside hers. His legs brushed hers as he sat down. She did not pull hers away but kept them resting against his as he settled in. "How long have you been in Canada?" She asked.

They talked for a time about how long it takes getting used to a new climate and a new culture. She finished her drink and he ordered her a new one, getting a second beer for himself. After that they joked about the colourful Canadian money, the one- and two-dollar coins they called "Loonies" and Toonies" and the way they had to spell color and honor and favor differently than the three hundred million Americans living just south of them.

"And their obsession with Hockey!" Ruth laughed, jerking her thumb toward one of the televisions where the last of the fans were arguing over whether the Referee should have called hooking or interference on one of the players.

Kyroo, who had played some street hockey when he was a kit and a lot of ball hockey with the guys and girls since coming to the Academy, had developed an affinity for the game.

"Oh, they're not so bad." He said. "No worse than the baseball fanatics back home, and not nearly as bad as the soccer fans in England, their form of football is like war to them." Somehow their legs had gone from being against each other to being intertwined. He was absently rubbing one of her thighs with his paw.

"What is the object of hockey anyway? To get pucked, right?" She placed her paw on his and made him press harder.

"No!" He laughed. "It's to score."

"Isn't that the same thing?" She asked with a sly smile. "Aren't we all out to score?"

Nearing the end of his second beer, Kyroo couldn't help laughing. "What is it?" She asked

"I shouldn't tell you." He giggled.

"Go ahead, I'm a grown bunny."

That only made him laugh harder, hard enough to choke on the last of his beer. When he had calmed down, after a few slaps on the back from Ruth, he managed to sputter: "Marcel, one of my, uh co-workers, he said that females that hang around the hockey rink looking to score with one of the players are called 'puck bunnies'." He dissolved into chortles again.

"Ah-ha!" She said, still smiling, and then she leaned in towards him and ran her paws down his sides and along his legs. "It looks like you have had enough to drink, Kyroo my pup. Why don't I give you a lift home?"

Her head was close to his now, close enough that if he stretched just a bit he could have kissed her, and he would have, but he had to think. He could not take her back to the dorm, that was forbidden. He would have to persuade her to take him to her place instead.

"I have roommates." He breathed into her ear, nuzzling her head in the way the seduction instructors had said older females liked. He left it to her to suggest going to her home, but she surprised him.

"Well, we're not going to my place." She said, nipping his cheek with her strong front teeth. "I don't know you well enough for that ... yet."

Kyroo thought. "You said you had a car parked in the lot across the street?"

"Oh, no!" She laughed. "I'm a decade or two past that stage. Unless you know of a nice hotel nearby?"

Kyroo didn't, but he knew of another place.

"There's a bit of a park on the other side of the government complex." He told her. It's very pretty, with a pond surrounded by gardens and a little waterfall and a gazebo to keep the night dew off you."

"Why you big romantic hunk you." She took her purse from the bar and threw a five down for the bartender. "Let's go."

Kyroo wasn't sure if the park he had found while taking a lone jog around the experimental farm was for tourists or some forgotten corner of the Experimental Farm. Someone was tending the garden, but not on a regular basis by the look of it. There was only a narrow path leading down a ravine to it, and it was effectively hidden from view, a secret spot in the middle of the city. He suggested that they take her car around to the other side of the farm where there was a small parking lot and walk in from there.

Ruth had to take off her heels to follow him down the trail, but was very sure footed without them. She gasped at the sight of the garden when it suddenly came into view. The night was clear and a full moon had risen to silhouette the gazebo and illuminate the glade. It reflected in the still waters of the pond and made diamonds of the drops that escaped from the small spring that fed it at one end. Kyroo led her by the paw to the wide wooden bench inside the gazebo and they sat side-by-side watching the scene in silence for a few minutes.

"This is better than a hotel room." Ruth said leaning against him and wrapping her arms around his torso. "Can we swim in the pond?"

"I don't know. I've never tried." He admitted. "The water might still be a bit cool for that." The night was staying warm, warm for Ottawa in any event, but this spot did not get a lot of sunlight. But the worn wooden bench felt warm, as did she. He put one arm behind her and let his digits rest just below her breasts. He reached across with the other and turned her head up to his. "Maybe we can give it a try ... later." Their lips met, spread and sealed against each other.

Things progressed rapidly after that. Heads rolling, tongues battling, Kyroo had no sooner moved a paw to her breast than he felt her claws scrambling at his belt. His free paw dropped to her lap and slid up her inner thigh until it could go no further. What it found was silken, smooth and already damp. He rubbed her through the thin layer of her panties as she pulled the leather through the loops of his jeans and went to work on the button at the front of the waistband.

She was caressing his tail with her other paw, high up near the base, and she popped the clasp above it so she could get her digits right up there. His front button came free about the same time and he instinctively leaned back as she deftly unzipped his fly. Jeans loose, she pushed one paw down his backside to cup a firm buttock while she teased his stiffening cock out through the slit on his boxers. He was fully erect by the time the cool night air hit his pale pink prick, and the warmth of her furry paw on his bare flesh felt wonderful.

He wanted to see if the rest of her was as soft and warm as promised. Abandoning her sodden panties he reached behind her and found the top of the zipper to her dress. It slid smoothly down to the top of her tufted tail where it came apart. A shrug of her shoulders was enough to drop it to pool about her waist. The under cup bra beneath it came off with a flick of his claws, but her silhouette in the moonlight did not change. Her breasts were round and firm, age had not caused them to sag or droop, and her nipples stood out from the downy fur that covered them at the first kiss of the breeze. Kyroo bent to warm them with his lips.

She was gasping for air as his mouth left hers for new territory, and her chest was heaving. Sensing her need he dropped his paws to her waist and tugged at her dress as she lifted her bottom. He snagged the waistline of her panties as he pulled the bunched dress out from under her. He got both down as far as her knees before her arms, one caressing his butt and the other stroking his cock, got in the way. She paused in her pumping long enough to pull them off the rest of the way and tuck them under the bench. Kyroo took the opportunity to pull his Jeans and boxers down too.

When she touched him again it was with an eagerness, an aggressiveness, that Kyroo had not experienced since the day he first met Vikki. Her paws were all over him, squeezing his balls, grabbing his ass, reaching up under his hoodie. He crossed his arms and pulled that off so he could feel her against him. He stood up and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in close.

At first she seemed to resist, but then she melted against him. His cock was nestled between their bellies, her breasts were squashed against his hard chest, and he could feel her heart beating fast through them. Thighs pressed against thighs and he lowered his head to kiss her again. She was as soft and as warm as he had expected, if not more so, but he could feel muscle under that soft layer, and there was strength in her digits where they dug at his back.

Ruth hooked a leg behind his and pushed him back as she pulled it out from under him. The move made Kyroo fall backwards, but not far. She manoeuvred his lean body with ease so that he landed lengthwise on the backless wooden bench. She came along with him so that she was laying on him, chest to chest and groin to groin. Spreading her legs she dropped her feet to the floor of the gazebo and took some of her weight on them, just enough to bring her hips off his pelvis. Then rolling her hips back and forth slowly she rubbed his cock with the damp outer lips of her vagina.

Kyroo could smell the juices that she was producing, the ones that were lubricating his shaft as she massaged it with her cunt. The scent made his cock harder still. He longed to reach down and guide it into her, but she was in charge now, so he let her tease him, spreading her lips along his length but never letting the tip rise to meet the hard little nub of flesh he could feel dragging along it. His legs were bent at the knee with his feet firmly on the ground and he had to hug the bench with his knees to keep from twisting too much under the intense sensations she was inflicting him with.

Just when he thought that he could not take it anymore she sat up, flexed her legs and lifted herself up above his quivering cock, now freed to stand straight and tall. With her mouth hanging open she reached down and took his shaft with the tips of her digits, guiding it toward her gaping pink hole as she lowered herself onto him. Her expression turned into a grimace of pleasure as his prick, slick with her fluids, slid slowly into her. She ended with a moan as her clit came to rest against the base of his cock.

She continued to set the pace by rising and lowering herself as she experimented with the angle of penetration. Kyroo did not have much to do other than to caress her breasts when she leaned over him or her thighs when her breasts were out of reach. He tried to add his hips to her movement but she just pressed him back against the bench by putting her paws on his hips and letting her weight rest on them. He was essentially helpless, a tool for her pleasure, some creature that had been trapped and was being consumed, but oh so slowly.

That suited Kyroo just fine. He lay back and enjoyed the waves of pleasure emanating from where they joined.

Ruth began to move faster on him. Her body arched like a bow and she clutched at her own breasts and she spat out a few words in a language that he did not recognize. Then she threw herself down against him, hooked her feet inside his thighs, and began pumping her ass up and down as fast as she could while she uttered high pitched cries through clenched teeth. His hips were moving now too, making his balls slap up against her ass each time they slammed together. Kyroo could sense her coming, and the hot wet flesh sucking at his cock was bringing him near to a conclusion also. He bit down on his tongue in an effort to hold off, and succeeded in delaying his orgasm long enough to feel her stiffen and hear her scream as a new wave of hot fluid washed over him. Then he lost it and his spooge shot from him, adding to the warm softness inside her as he continued to pump away at her.

She propped her weight on her arms and tilted her head back. The pose made her breasts jut out just over his muzzle. Glancing along her as she lay there illuminated by the moonlight, he could see that her ass was rolled back and that her little pale tail was sticking straight up. He wanted to kiss it all, but he settled for burying his nose between her breasts and holding her thighs as his hips slowed down and he took a few long, last, slow strokes.

He felt a paw on his head and he let her pull his face away from her breasts. She leaned down and planted a kiss on his mouth, not a passionate one but a lingering one. A kiss that said thank you, and good bye.

"You are amazing." Kyroo said as she broke off. She smiled as she lowered one leg and swung the other up over the bench so that she was standing beside him.

"You were not too bad yourself." She grinned and gave his penis a playful squeeze. It twitched in her paw. "And I'm sure that you have more where that came from, but it is time for me to be going. Care to brave the pond with me?"

Kyroo could not let her try the chilly water without him, and they had a wild few minutes as they gasped and laughed and tried to rinse the worst of the sticky fluids from their fur without actually immersing themselves in the surprisingly frigid water. She offered to drive him home but he told her that he could walk to his bus stop easily enough from there. He lent her his hoodie for the walk back to the parking lot because her damp fur had made her dress wet and the breeze was giving her a chill. It was doing the same to him but he just toughed it out until she was inside her sedan.

"I don't suppose that you have a phone yet?" He asked as she passed his hoodie back out through the driver's window.

"No, it's not hooked up yet." She said with a pout. "But I should have one soon. Do you have a number I can call you at when I do? You're the first friend I've made since coming here and I'd hate to lose contact with you."

Kyroo had been issued with a F.O.X. cell phone that rang for two numbers, one to be used only for work, the other that he could give out to relatives, old friends and businesses that required a contact number. He gave her the second number and watched as she wrote it down on a pad of paper from the glove box.

"I don't know what my work schedule is going to be like for the next few weeks," he told her, "but give me a call and leave a message if I don't answer. I'd like to show you some of the city, during the daylight hours that is."

She told him that he was sweet and then she closed her window and pulled out of the parking lot. Kyroo watched her car turn back toward the main artery before he turned and headed off cross country for the Academy. Continuing what he had started he crept through the woods, avoiding the sensors and cameras until he was near the Agent's dorm. Then, when the coast was clear, he crawled along a slight depression in the ground until he was back in the blind spot where he had started. Removing his shoes he used the edges of the bricks to scramble up to his window, lifted it and slipped inside. He had done it! He was only the third agent in Academy history to get out, get laid and get back inside without being caught!

It was only when he as securely back inside and laying on his bed that Kyroo realized his mistake. Having come and gone alone, with no witnesses, and having washed the evidence of his sexual encounter off in the pond he had no proof of his accomplishment. No one would believe him.

Kyroo drifted off to sleep with a frown on his face, hoping that Ruth would call soon.

* * * * * * * *

The rabbit stopped not far from the first intersection then turned out her lights and killed the engine. She watched the corner for a full five minutes but he failed to appear, as he would have if he story about catching the bus had been true, but she had been pretty sure that it wasn't. After waiting another five minutes she restarted her car and headed west to the outskirts of the city where she had rented an isolated farmhouse. She took a circuitous route and kept one eye on the mirror to see if she was being followed.

Satisfied that she was not being tailed she drove to the farmhouse and used a remote to open the garage. She closed the garage door from inside the car before getting out and walking to the door that connected it to the house. Beside it there was a set of steps that led directly down to the basement, an old converted coal chute from a time before the garage had been added. That feature was going to be very useful, she thought, when she made her move.

Inside the kitchen there was just the barest of furniture and only a few pots and pans. With what Bloedrye was paying her she could afford to eat out. What she could not afford, she reminded herself, was to expose herself before she was ready, to either Bloedrye or her enemies, assuming that they were not one and the same. The house was leased for only a few months, as was the car, and in a name other than the one she was working under. Even that name, Ruth Pawstone, was not the one that she went by back home. Pawstone was just a name the Americans had given her ancestors when they invaded the Cuni tribal lands and Ruth was given to her by a Baptist clerk at the county courthouse where her birth was registered; her real name, the one her parents gave her, Runs-with-Stick, had not been Christian enough for him.

Since growing up she had avoided getting involved with the authorities, so very few records bore her prey name. Her parents, and then her mother alone after her father disappeared and was presumed dead, had educated her at home. She had never gotten a real driver's licence or registered to vote. Her marriage had been conducted by the tribal elder without the benefit of a State-issued licence.

Bloedrye had promised to have any old records destroyed. He had also promised that she would have a chance at the bastard that had taken her father away from her so many years ago, but not until this was all over. Until then she was what he called "his insurance policy".

Had going to reconnoiter the enemy's lair been a mistake? She asked herself. Possibly, she admitted. Bloedrye had warned her to stay away from the place. But she had to go take a look, he could not help it. She had assumed that there would be a bar nearby where they might go to blow off some steam, and she had dressed appropriately just in case she got lucky. And lucky she had been, lucky enough to catch an inexperienced young one out on his own. She had been sitting in her car in the parking lot of the Arboretum when she saw the white fox creeping and crawling away from the buildings she had identified as the enemy's lair. Sneaking out after curfew, she suspected.

She stripped off the soiled dress and threw it into a corner. The uncomfortable shoes followed. Having tracked one of the enemy to his watering hole she would not need them anymore. She could dress more like a normal person as she continued to seduce the lad until she learned enough to go after the one she really wanted. Then, with or without Bloedrye's blessing, she would take her revenge.

Before heading to the shower to wash the stench of the fox off of her she paused by counter where she had tossed her personal items before going out. She ran her paw over a heavy necklace made up of bones. An Orthopedist would have recognized them as the tarsal, metatarsal and phalanges from a number of creatures. By their size they might have deduced that they were mostly from sentient canines and felines, hunter species. A closer examination by a Forensic Anthropologist might even reveal that they had been collected from living subjects over a period of twenty-five years or so, using a heavy bladed instrument, like a machete, or a cleaver. That was why she did not wear the necklace in public; you never knew who might see it and get the wrong impression - or the right one.

She slipped on the necklace and smiled. She would wear it to bed tonight to remind her of her mission. She would apply fresh blue indamo powder to her cheeks as a sign to the gods that she did not fear death and she would sleep with the cleaver that her mother had given her so that she would be constantly ready to defend the tribe. Then, in the morning, she would thank mother earth for her continued well being and ask the sun for guidance before putting the cleaver and the necklace away and adopting the guise of a meek creature so she could mix in innocently among the enemy ... and their children.

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

Book VII - Rogue Sword

Kain Algorath © Marcus X Light

Ophelia Cassidy Sommer © Devil Kitty

Joel Grigori © Joel the Lemur

Geno © Coyotek

Dongo Fett © Dongo Fett

Zachary Ember © EmberWolf

Gray Muzzle © Gray Muzzle

Ruth Pawstone/Runs with Stick © Grendelair (aka Bunners)