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Diamonds in the Rough

Chapter Four: ... White Bones in the Evening

Zac and Akira spent much of the day working in his hotel room with the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door. Using their respective laptops and secure communications systems they accessed their agencies servers for data on flights and manifests while teams of analysts in Ottawa and Tokyo matched surveillance photos to reports of missing females. By the time that evening rolled around they had identified and located eighty percent of the ones that had entered Canada through Yellowknife, and discovered promising leads into other Yakuza species trafficking operations.

As her agency would be the official liaison with the nations of origin Akira was keeping a master list of all the females on her laptop. Near supper time Zac interrupted her by passing a list of five names and instructing her to take them off the active search list.

"Why?" She asked. "Have they already escaped the Yakuza's slavery?"

"In a sense." He said sadly. "Those five have been reported dead over the past year. They were all listed as Jane Does until we matched them with names on the list." He watched as she annotated five of the names on her list with a Japanese character that he assumed meant 'deceased'. "How are the tax files coming?" He asked.

"They have woven a complicated web of overseas companies and bank accounts." She sighed. "It will take months and a great deal of international cooperation to sort it all out. It is a job for accountants and lawyers, not intelligence analysts and secret agents."

Zac know what she meant, they could accomplish no more by being here. In fact, the longer they stayed the more risk there was that they would inadvertently blow Kyroo's cover. Tonight was likely their last night in Yellowknife.

"Hey," he said, "it's getting late. Want to go out and grab a bite to eat?"

Akira turned off her laptop and closed it. "Yes, and I would like to do some shopping too, if the stores are still open."

"There's a tourist shop down the road that's open late, if you aren't looking for anything too fancy."

"That should do. I will put my things away in my room and meet you in the lobby."

The souvenir store was large but had narrow aisles. It was creamed with everything from snack foods and baby onesies with cute sayings on them to jewelry and parkas, most of it made in China. They even had a selection of Halloween costumes and props. There was a native craft section though, with stone, wood and bone carvings supposedly made right here in Yellowknife. They depicted daily life, game species like the narwhal or the iconic inuksuk. The prices were much less than in the hotel or airport shops and Zac wondered how they could sell them so cheaply. They were probably fake, he concluded, although they looked real enough. He purchased a small bone carving of a leaping whale for his mother.

He and Akira had become separated in the crowded space so he waited for her near the exit. She showed up a few minutes later with a store bag somewhat larger than his hanging from her paw. They had dressed warmly so instead of returning to the hotel to get the car they decided to continue in the same direction and walk to Old Town and the Wild Cat cafe.

The Wild Cat was run by a cougar whose Great-grandfather, the original owner, had actually been a 'wildcatter', the term they used for independent prospectors. The wood beam and panel interior was covered with photos and memorabilia of the town's early mining days. Gold and silver had come out of the region back in the days of the Yukon gold rush, but that industry had gone bust by the middle of the twentieth century. Times had been hard for the locals after that, but the discovery of diamonds had created a sort of mining renaissance. Because of that and the tourist trade businesses like the Wild Cat cafe were booming again.

The menu chalked up on a blackboard over the bar, had several dishes designed to cater to the Asian tourists but it also contained the Western stick-to-your-ribs kind of fare that Zac was used to. He opted for a hardy stew and a beer while Akira chose fried seafood, salad and wine. Other than commenting on the decor, the crusty owner or the other patrons they ate mostly in silence, each aware that they would be going their own ways the next day. Zac didn't know if the events of the night before and this morning were supposed to be a one-time thing or whether the analyst would expect a repeat performance. He didn't want to talk about it in the crowded restaurant though, and apparently neither did she.

When they left he suggested that they walk around the perimeter of the peninsula. The Aurora had been out earlier but it had clouded over and the locals were predicting a couple of centimetres of snow. There was always a chance that they were wrong, however, and with no wind it was still a pleasant if chilly evening. They would have a good view of Yellowknife Bay and it would give them time to talk privately. Akira agreed and they set out with their earlier purchases.

About half way around they came upon a scenic overview on a dark patch of roadway. It overlooked the floating houses in the bay and hung about fifteen feet above the ice that had formed along the coastline. No one was parked there, although gravel sprayed onto the road showed that someone had used it since the last street sweeper had gone by. Zac and Akira stood by the low railing and wondered aloud how the occupants of the floating homes got from there to shore when the bay was only half frozen.

"They probably have hoses with holes to produce bubbles attached to air compressors to keep the water moving so it doesn't freeze." Zac speculated. "That's how they keep the berths for the fishing boats free of ice down home."

"Maybe they have reinforced hulls on their boats." Akira suggested. "That is what the divers in Grandmother's village do to cut through the thin ice around the mouth of the river in winter."

"Your Grandmother dove for shellfish in the winter?"

"Ah, yes. Being very, what is the English word ... poofy, I think, yes? Well, being very poofy of fur tanuki have natural insulation from the frigid waters of the Northern Pacific. In fact ..." She took a step closer to him and something crunched under her shoe. She bent to pick it up and looked it over in the dim light. "It is a USB stick." She commented. "Broken now, but it looks like the one you gave Kyroo."

Zac took it from her paw and used a small flashlight he carried to examine it further. "It's a common brand, but I think that you're right. Kyroo and Violet must have been here earlier in the evening, when the Aurora was still out. I wonder why he would toss my music though. Even if he didn't want to use it you think that he could at least return it."

"I agree." She said, and then poked him hard in the chest. "But that does not excuse you for not telling me that you Li-on-al Ri-chee music last night. I love Li-on-al Ri-chee."

"I didn't think it matched the mood." Zac said, remembering their first savage encounter. "And I was asleep when you, uh, started in on me this morning."

Akira just shrugged and tossed the stick into a nearby trash can. She turned and gazed back out over the bay.

Now that the ice was broken Zac gathered his courage. "Look, Akira, about last night and this morning. I don't know what came over me, and I'm sure you don't either. And tomorrow we're going our separate ways, so ... well, maybe we should not go to your room tonight."

The Naicho agent turned to face him and nodded her head vigorously. "I agree, Zachary. We were both carried away by the fantasy and the moment. So much so that I was ashamed to leave the room as it was for the maid to clean. So many sticky patches! So I turned the cushions on the couch over and made the bed myself. Ayiee! It is too soiled to be comfortable, so I will come to your room tonight."

"Uh, I don't know if I could do that again. I mean, sure I can do that again, but the whole rape fantasy thing ... well it just isn't me."

"No problem Zachary. I have purchased a few things to help with another common fantasy that I am sure you as a western male will share." She began digging around in the bag from the souvenir store. "Fortunately it is close to your Halloween. Here I have a black cape, a pair of fake fangs, a wooden stake and some Crisco oil from the store's grocery section."

"Which one of us gets to be the vampire." Zac laughed.

She gave a shy smile. "Either, or both can take their turns."

Zac closed the gap between them and took her in his arms. "You didn't need the stake. I have something long and hard to pierce you with already."

"Oh, sorry, the stake is not to use on me but for you." She beamed up at his face. "Tell me, Zachary, have you ever heard of 'pegging'?"

Zac's jaw dropped and he was at a momentary loss to answer. Before he could get his mouth working again a car came around the nearby bend at a high rate of speed, turning into the lookout at the last minute. Zac and Akira were blinded by the driver's inconsiderate use of the high beams, and he had to cover his eyes with one paw even to see the outline of the vehicle.

"I guess this is too nice of a spot to expect total privacy," he told Akira, "but you think that they would turn off their lights if they want to enjoy the view."

Akira sounded worried when she replied. "Zachary, I ..." before she could get more out the doors on the sedan opened all at once and several creatures rushed toward them. The two largest came straight for Zac, while the smaller ones went for Akira. Still unable to see more than silhouettes the large wolf put himself between her and the attackers and raised his fists, but to no avail. They struck from a distance with wooden shafts that resembled swords, striking his legs and arms until he was forced to drop his guard and then going after his torso and head. Behind him Akira became tangled in his legs and she screamed as paws clutched at her, trying to drag her out from behind him. But before they could find purchase she threw herself backwards, off the cliff on the edge of the lookout and into the darkness.

Beaten to his knees Zac turned and grabbed for her leg but he was too late. He heard a crash of breaking ice and looked down over the edge. The light from the town and the nearby floating houses caught the frigid lake water as it splashed up through the hole she had made.

"Akira!" He shouted, and received the butt of one of the wooden swords for his pains.

His limbs went limp. Rough paws grabbed his legs and arms and tied them behind him. His head continued to hang over the edge of the cliff and by turning it slightly he could see the polished shoes of the attackers on either side of him. They were looking down at the hole in the ice and one was counting in what sounded to him like Japanese. Counting the seconds since Akira had disappeared, Zac realized. He did not understand the numbers but he counted along with them in his head. It seemed to go on forever, but somewhere around two hundred the counting stopped. Over three minutes had passed without any sign of Akira surfacing.

He called out her name again in a strangled voice and tried to pull himself over the edge, thinking that someone had to go in after her. His movement drew the attention of the creature to his right. There was a whistling noise as something cut through the air towards him and then everything went black.

* * * * * * * *

Kyroo and Violet were taking a break. After mounting the stairs to her private residence above the strip club she had finished what she started in the car and then made Kyroo return the favour. After which she had broken out a fresh bottle of Jack's "just to rinse our mouths" while they built up energy for the next round.

Violet passed Kyroo a tumbler full of the fiery liquid and walked naked to a stereo console on her dresser. She leaned over it as she flipped through the music stored on the iPod mounted on it and Kyroo took the opportunity to admire her strong legs and firm backside. With her fur shaved down to no more than peach fuzz he could see every line and contour. He even liked the way her tail, also shaved except for a puff of white fur on the tip, curved up to reveal her sex and her tail hole when she bent over.

She found what she was looking for and a moment later the dulcet tones of Frank Sinatra filled the bedroom. She turned and returned to the bed, laying down on her stomach facing Kyroo and propping her head on her paws. "If you are going to pull some cheap shit seduction at least have the decency to bring along some real music." She said. "Sinatra, or Tony Bennett in a pinch."

"But no Lionel Richie." He laughed. "Not if I want to keep my flash drive."

She shrugged. "It could have been worse. If it had been Barry Manilow it would have been you going through that window."

"Mmmmm ...." Kyroo finished his drink, put his glass down on the bedside table and patted the sheets in front of him. "Come here. I want to cuddle you."

Violet complied, rolling over and twisting around until her butt was against his groin. She snuggled in and leaned against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. She rested her head on his right bicep, bent her left leg and clutched his left paw in both of hers. Kyroo bent his other arm and toyed with her floppy ear.

They were facing the mirrored closet and Kyroo could see that she had closed her eyes. Her body was relaxed, possibly for the first time since he had met her, and she looked softer and curvier than when she was tense. That was helped by the way she sunk into the mattress at the waist and the rumpled sheets that obscured her straight lines. Her pose, with the bent leg hiding her sex and her arms across her breasts, was very demure. She looked at peace, and she looked lovely ... very lovely. Kyroo could see himself falling for someone like that.

Sinatra was telling him that it was witchcraft. He closed his eyes and shook his head to clear it. She was right about the crooner's seductive qualities. But he was here for business, not fun, so he had better get on with it.

"That's quite a cute way you guys have to bring our stones in." He said as he caressed her ear.

"Mmmmm." She was much too comfortable to speak.

Kyroo dropped his paw and stroked one of her nipples. "How much do you have to pay the girls that bring the stones in?"

"Not my department." She murmured.

"Your partner, Gorou, must manage that end." He pulled his other paw away from hers gently and placed it high and inside on her thigh. "What do you think he does with them, the girls I mean, not the stones?"

"What do you mean?" She shifted her leg to give his paw free access. He moved it up until his thumb was rubbing her mons as he massaged her thigh.

"Well, I've done jobs in Asia before and some of those females looked more Chinese or Korean than Japanese to me."

"So what if they are?" He could feel her body begin to tense, and he massaged it away with his lips on her neck before he replied.

"With all these creatures trying to get into Canada and make refugee claims you would think that some of them might attempt to run rather than go back. He must take them somewhere, some holding area, until he can fly them out to ... wherever."

"Back to Japan." She asserted.

"Yeah, sure." He kissed the nape of her neck again, right where the purple mohawk ended, as he soothed her with his paws. "Do you ever wonder what happens to them?" He whispered while hugging her tight.

A tear escaped the corner of her eye before she opened her mouth to answer. "I ... I think they go to a better place ... better than where they came from."

It was her first admittance that she knew something about the fate of the couriers. Kyroo phrased his next question carefully, nuzzled her head, and opened his mouth to speak. But his mind went blank as the door to the bedroom crashed open. The polar bear bouncers, moving surprisingly fast for creatures so huge, rushed into the room and closed the gap between door and bed before Violet or Kyroo could react. They threw themselves on top of the naked lovers before either could roll off the bed and grab a weapon, not that Kyroo knew of any weapons other than the furniture. He had come unarmed, deeming it unseemly to stuff a gun into the tight jeans. Violet must have had a gun or a knife stashed nearby though as she tried to squirm out from under the pile of white fur and blubber to reach her night table. The bear on top of her grabbed her wrist and twisted it cruelly.

"Hey, tailhole! You work for me!" She yelled, her voice somewhat muffled.

"No, we work for MisterTsukasa." The bear informed her.

"You bastards! When I get out from under your fat ass I'm going to make rugs out of the both of ya!" She struggled to raise herself but gave up when she couldn't budge the bulbous bear. "What the hell are you two doing here anyway? I don't recall offing a gang bang."

"MisterTsukasa wants for us to bring this one to him." The other bear rolled one cheek off of Kyroo enough to haul him out from under him. He held Kyroo's wrists in one huge paw as he slapped steel cuffs around them. "He says the fox is a government agent and that he needs to have speaks with him."

The blood drained from Violet's face as several emotions flashed across it - anger, fear, embarrassment and betrayal. "You prick." She said in a low voice, a voice that might have come from a child betrayed by her mother. "You were just trying to into my pants to get more information, weren't you?"

The second bear rolled off of her and helped his brother pull Kyroo's pants on. "Tuck it in." He advised as he reached for the zipper. "The boss wants you alive but that don't mean you got to be whole." Kyroo stuffed his limp penis in just before the bear hauled the fly closed. Then he draped Kyroo's jacket over his shoulders before turning him towards the door.

Kyroo looked back over his shoulder. Violet was sitting on the edge of the bed with her head n her paws, staring at her feet. "Violet!" He called. "Those females never go back to Asia, and you know it. They end up in Vancouver and Calgary, Seattle and LA. In strip joints and brothels and massage parlors. But they aren't going by choice, like you did. They can't ever escape, not alive." The ear behind him gave him a shove toward the door. Violet had not moved.

"They're sex slaves Violet! Subject to the worst abuse you can imagine." The bear pushed harder, and Kyroo grabbed the door jamb, hoping to get a reaction from her before they forced him outside. The one in front seized him around the waist and pulled while the one behind pried his digits away. When they popped free the two picked him up between them and marched him away.

"You're sending them away to be raped and killed by strangers!" He screamed as the door swung shut. "You're as bad as your mother!"

"Oh shaddup." One of the bears said, concurrently delivering a roundhouse punch between Kyroo's eyes. The blow knocked the young FOX agent's head back against the wall. He saw stars for moment, felt excruciating pain, and then passed out.

* * * * * * * *

Zac regained consciousness aware of two things. The first was the pain in his head, which was centred on a spot behind his right ear. The second was the pain in his shoulders, which seemed about to pop out of their sockets. He flexed them, and almost blacked out again. When his head cleared again he took his time to assess his situation and discovered that his shoulders were sore because he was hanging by his arms with his feet several centimetres off the floor.

He looked up. His vision was still blurry but he could see that his wrists were bound with several turns of thick rough rope. He was suspended on a wicked looking steel hook, and his weight was helping keep the rope tight. Looking down he saw that his ankles were similarly bound, and that most of his clothes, except for his pants, had been removed. Now that he was beyond the pain from his head and arms he could feel the chill through the thin fur of his torso.

Zac shivered, and the movement set him turning slowly on the swivel the hook was attached to. He seemed to be in some kind of warehouse or workshop. There were piles of white material that he could not make out in the dimness, and work benches with old style grinding machines that he recognized from his days as a machinist. Something else white but closer was coming into view as he rotated on the hook. It was Kyroo, unconscious or dead, similarly trussed and suspended on a hook two metres away. His hopes sank at the sight. With Akira lost in the icy bay Kyroo was his last ally. He wondered what could have gone wrong to have exposed both of them.

The next creature he saw as he spun slowly around may have answered that. It was the big brown bear, Murphy, but he didn't look like he would be responding to any questions with that hook through his neck. Zac shuddered and started to feel better about being hung by the wrists.

He continued to turn, and began to notice the input his other senses were receiving, one of which was a terrible meaty smell that thickened the air. It was an ageless smell, the kind of smell you might encounter in the afterlife, if you took the path heading downwards. It was far too strong and pervasive to have been caused by the body of the corrupt customs official. Zac looked up to the rafters where it seemed to emanating from and gasped.

Hanging from the ceiling in various states of decay were the carcasses of whales, sharks, narwhals and other feral Arctic beasts. There were dozens of them, and the sight reminded him of the white material he had seen on the shop floor. Looking down again he focused on the nearest pile. There were bones in there, but what kind he could not tell. There was also a fair number of antlers and what looked like drift wood, materials he was used to seeing carved and offered for sale by the First Nations folk near his home back east. But this was handicrafts on an industrial scale. Zac now understood how the souvenir store could offer 'native' artifacts so cheap.

His rate of rotation was slowing, but now he was becoming aware of noises coming from somewhere just out of sight. He risked twisting his hips to give his spin more momentum. There was a sharp stab of pain, but not nearly as bad as before. He must not have been here too long, he speculated. He continued to turn and the source of the noise slowly came into view. And what a bizarre sight it was, strange enough to make Zac wonder if the blow to his head was giving him hallucinations.

The five Yakuza members were seated in cushions on the warehouse floor around an empty wooden cable drum that was over a metre across. They were smoking and drinking and slapping down cards with a vigour that would have been frowned upon in Vegas. They called to each other in Japanese, implored the gods, screamed with delight or moaned in mock agony when they lost. Betting markers crossed the table in great piles. But the really strange thing was their appearance. They had fur on their heads, tails and paws, but the rest was shaved down to the skin, and on several of them every inch of that skin was covered in elaborate and colourful tattoos. Zac could tell because each was dressed in only a sort of loin cloth, totally different from Western underwear, and white socks with split toes.

The shortest, the kitsuni called Smoothie, had its back to Zac, and that back was covered in an erotic image of a nine-tailed female kitsuni in an open kimono against a background of cherry blossoms. On the far side sat the hare, Gorou, the leader. His chest was a demon's mask, with his nipples cleverly worked in as the eyes. Emerald snakes covered his legs. The accountant sat beside him. His tattoos were smaller, but more numerous, and it was hard to make out the details at this distance, but there was only a few square centimeters not already occupied, as befitted a senior member of the gang. The wolf and the big squirrel, sitting on either side of the makeshift table, still had plenty of room left for more ink. Their torsos were coming along but their legs were completely bare. An indication of their junior position in the family, Zac supposed. They appeared to be losing regularly to the senior members and Zac suspected that they were doing so just to be deferential.

The leader looked up from another winning combination and saw Zac watching them. He nodded towards the wolf and said something in Japanese to his colleagues that set them laughing. The flying squirrel got to its feet and lumbered over to where Kyroo was hanging. He slapped the comatose fox's face lightly and Kyroo began to stir on his hook. Then he moved to Zac and grabbed his shoulders to stop his spin facing the group of gamblers.

Up close Zac could see the fine details of its tattoos. One of a colourful fish, a koi Zac assumed, had hundreds of individual scales each done in several colours. But he could also see every wrinkle and fold in the rodent's skin, especially where there was no ink. It made him think about those 'skin suiters', creatures that wore tight latex or vinyl suits and went to conventions pretending to be hairless. He had once come across one of their 'skinny' fan sites but their art and stories depicting their furless fantasy lives did nothing for him. While he could appreciate a shapely female poodle with an extremely close clipping, bare skin was another thing altogether - some of those shaved pussies in the feline galleries were frankly scary. He preferred sexual partners with enough fur to get a grip on, the thicker the pelt the better it felt, you might say.

That reminded him of Akira, and her icy fate. He wondered what he and Kyroo were in for.

Beside him Kyroo cried out as he came to and also tried to flex his arms. He struggled for a moment, which left him turned away from their hosts. He swore at the sight of Murphy hanging by his neck. The squirrel turned him back around, and got spit in the face for his pains. The goon cocked one huge fist but lowered it at a sharp word from his leader. Grumbling, he returned to his cushion where he sat on his heels with his paws on his thighs, staring at the Canadian agents.

Gorou spoke from his position behind the cable drum. "I am Gorou Tsukasa. Welcome to my factory." He said in the accented English that Kyroo was familiar with. "My friend Mister Murphy told me that your names are Zac-ha-ri Em-bar and Ky-rou Ee-kos before he had his little 'accident'. He also told me of a secret agency that he suspects you are members of."

Zac answered. He was still nominally in charge of the field force ... for as long as they lived in any event. "Those are our names, but we work for the Justice Department." He ran through the information they had memorized as part of their cover story in case of such an event, supervisor's names and phone numbers, office addresses and organizations. Some of it was real, based on information available to the public, the rest was fictional.

"That may be true." Gorou said as he crushed his cigarette out on the floor. "But we have to be certain. We will also need to know what you have found out about our enterprise and who you have told. Care to save us the effort and tell us now?" Zac and Kyroo remained silent. Gorou sighed theatrically. "I did not think so. Souta, Katashi, make them talk."

They had to stick to their story no matter what, divulging details or even the existence of FOX was the greatest sin an agent could commit. Zac hoped that the gangsters would only try to beat it out of them. Professional torture could break them given enough time, and with no one to raise the alarm Gorou had plenty of time.

His hopes were dashed though when the wolf hurried to roll a mobile workbench up close to the hanging agents. Zac recognized some of the equipment on the bench as older models of an arc welder, soldering guns, metal cutters and grinders. He also noted that they had been modified with attachments that were more suitable for shaping wood and bone and stressing them to look antique for their fake carving business. Any one of them could cause fatal injuries if applied to living flesh carelessly, or excruciating pain if used with finesse. The squirrel joined his comrade and at a nod from the wolf grabbed Zac from behind and held him still while the canine attached a cable from the arc welder to Zac's big toe with an alligator clip. The wolf then picked up the other cable, inserted a welding rod into it and turned to regard Gorou with eyebrows raised inquisitively.

"Now." The hare said as he lit another cigarette. "Where shall we begin?"

* * * * * * * *

Violet was still sitting on the side of her bed several minutes after her bouncers had revealed who they really worked for and dragged the Arctic fox away. The only difference was that she was now holding in her paws a snub-nosed .38 Special that she had taken from her bedside table. Holding it and turning it over and over again while a range of thoughts passed through her while outside her window the first real snowfall of the year had begun.

Betrayal was foremost in her mind. The fox wasn't Frank Peters, if there even was a Frank Peters, that much was obvious. When she had talked to Gorou after he was done at the sauna he had mentioned that the fox was registered under the name of Kyroo Echos, but that his explanation for that seemed reasonable at the time. The local Yakuza leader had also mentioned that he was meeting with that offensive bear, Murphy, to discuss the situation with the new investigation. Murphy must have found out that this Echos character was an undercover operative somehow, she supposed. She felt ashamed and angry for falling for his act, and for falling for him. She was also angry at Gorou for putting spies in her club, and at Muk and Luk for being on the hare's payroll, and again at herself for not suspecting it.

For all her faults Violet was basically a trusting, honest and straightforward kind of person. Other than claiming she was nowhere near the Fairbanks liquor store when it was broken into once she did not lie. She only stole when she didn't have the money to pay for her needs, and usually paid whoever she stole from back twice as much when she came into some money; anonymously of course. When she worked as a hooker she provided the services promised at the price agreed on and never lifted a client's wallet if he passed out on her. But if one got violent or refused to pay then all bets were off. It was the same with business partners. She kept up her end of a deal and was willing to face the music if things went sour, but she could not abide being made the scapegoat.

Take the current situation. She didn't skim off any of the goods for herself or hold back any of the profits. If the cops raided her place and scooped up some of the couriers and illegal stones she could be counted on to keep her trap shut about Gorou, at least until he was out of the country. In turn she believed that the Yakuza would get her the best lawyer available and, if she had to do some time, take care of her while she was in prison. Gorou knew that. There had been no need for him to subvert her bouncers. She was sorry that she ever sucked that bastard's dick and let him stick it in her.

Normally she was a better judge of character, you needed to be when you were on your own in the Arctic. But Gorou had presented an opportunity to escape that life. He had been one of her better customers, one who appreciated her Joie de vivre and her enthusiasm between the sheets. She had heard of his reputation as a ruthless gangster, loyal only to his Yakuza family, but she thought that he was a friend too. So when he proposed this setup she had entered into what she believed was an equal partnership at the time. Now she could see that she was just a pawn in his long game, a patsy.

She should have been angry, at herself at least, for letting herself be fooled. Twice when you counted the fake Frank Peters, but what she was feeling mostly was shame. Shame, because she had really been fooling herself.

She had left Asia before she was old enough to tell creatures from one region from another, but she could speak fluent Japanese and she had never forgotten the language. When they had fist started smuggling stones in on a trial basis she had spoken words of comfort and encouragement in that language to the couriers as they recovered from the purgatives that brought the silicone encased diamonds out, and they had responded. Those couriers had not needed to have their passports collected either. But when they started moving the stones in volume the couriers had changed, they seemed not to understand Japanese, even though they were travelling on Japanese passports. And Gorou had instructed her to collect those passports and issue them fake Canadian or American ID. When she asked why he explained that they were using females that wished to work in North America but were unable to get visas; carrying the stones was the price they paid to be snuck in, or so he claimed. But if that was the case why only young, pretty females? And, as the fox had noted, why did they appear to be drugged?

These were questions she had avoided asking herself. Probably, she had to admit, because the answer was obvious. Gorou was already involved in the sex trade when she met him in Alaska, where he was in charge of spearheading the Yamaguchi-gumi advance into North America. Everywhere they went they set up dens where the rich and jaded could indulge in their vices, be it gambling, drugs or sex. And whatever commodities could not be procured locally would have to be brought in.

She should have known. Echos had known, and her feelings for him further confused her. She had fallen for a bad boy who turned out to be a good guy, someone who cared about these smuggled females. Had she sensed the goodness in him or been attracted by dangerous role he was playing? Now that Gorou had him she would never know. All she did know is that his last words had brought her fantasy world crashing down on her and cut her to the core.

Now the question was, she thought as she contemplated the loaded revolver, should I run, turn myself in or end it all right here and now? With the resources and reach of the Yakuza all three choices would end the same way, in her death. Some would just take longer to play out than others.

There was a soft tap on her door. One of the girls must have come up to see why both the owner and both bouncers were absent on one of their busiest nights of the week. Violet ignored it. The tapping noise came again.

"Leave me the fuck alone!" She screamed at the door. "Tell Carl the bartender to deal with whatever it is."

The tapping persisted.

"Jesus jumping fucking Christ." She muttered as she crossed the room and jerked the door open. "I said ..." The words froze in her mouth as she was confronted by a beast the likes of which she had never seen before. It looked like a racoon but its fur was arranged in long frozen spikes around its face, and icicles hung from its eyebrows and muzzle. The first thought that struck her was that it was one of the native spirits come to take her tarnished soul.

Many of the indigenous peoples had legends of a trickster spirit. Back home in Alaska the Athabasca Indians said it took the shape of a raven. Here in Dene territory it was said to take the form of an old raccoon. They called it the Wisagejaak in their language, which the Scottish settlers had corrupted to Whiskey Jack. Violet had been out on the land with enough of the First Nations folk to know that they held a deep and firm belief in their spirits, their Manitou, and she was suddenly a believer too.

The creature was short, less than five feet tall, but that was not unusual, Manitou were often described as being either extremely tall or short, and Whiskey Jack was a shape shifter that could be either. The tips of the icicles that hung off it were dripping, and the creatures face was contorted in a grimace of anger or pain, or both. It was said that Whiskey Jack fooled his victims into lowering their guard by appearing as a helpless creature lost in the forest, wandering into the light of one's campfire when blizzards raged looking small and starved and half frozen. Then it attacked.

The raccoon-like creature at her door looked sad, small and miserable ... and then it attacked.

Violet was taken by surprise and despite its diminutive size the Whiskey Jack knocked her on her ass, sending the revolver spinning under the bed. Then the Manitou had its paws on her throat and was choking the life out of her. Violet had been in worse situations, and she could have fought back, but she could feel the cold winds of a northern hell emanating off its body. What was the point of fighting back against a demon that had come to drag her undeserving soul to its frozen lair in the netherworld?

Just like the first time her foster father had raped her, Violet lay back and let it happen. She was slightly interested to discover that the world really did turn red when your brain was starved for oxygen. But the Whisky Jack stopped before she could pass out and die.

"Where has he taken them?" The apparition screamed in Violet's face.

It took a second for Violet to realize that the Whiskey Jack had screamed in Japanese. She was puzzled, why would a Dene Manitou be using Japanese? She supposed that as magical beings they could speak in whatever language they choose, but wouldn't it know that she was more comfortable in English? Japanese did not have enough swear words for her taste.

Her silent pondering of the problem seemed to agitate the Whiskey Jack. It squeezed her neck again and thumped Violet's head on the carpeted floor twice.

"I said where has he taken them?" It screamed as ice water from her furry spikes dripped down on the poodle's face.

The shock of the chilly drops brought Violet out of her fugue. She blinked twice and her vision cleared, the red mist lifting as the paws at her throat loosened so she could answer. The creature on her was no Manitou, she realized, just a very angry tanuki that looked like it had swam here from Hay River. "Who the hell are you?" She sputtered in English as she fought to get more air in her lungs.

"I am Akira Tanaka," the tanuki replied in the same language, "with the Japanese Naicho. I have been working with the Canadian agents who were investigating Gorou Tsukasa and the Yakuza. Now you tell me where they have taken Zachary and Kyroo or I will end your life."

It was all very surreal for Violet. One minute she was contemplating suicide and the next she was being threatened by a munchkin covered in icicles. "Jesus, chill out lady... speaking of which, what the fuck happened to you?"

"I threw myself in the bay to escape Tsukasa's creatures, but they took Zachary. I came here to force you to tell me where they had taken him, but then I saw your bouncers throw Kyroo in a car and drive off. But now is not the time for stories." She implored. "Kyroo thought that you might help us, once you realized what Tsukasa was really up to. He did not think that you consciously acknowledged what was before your eyes, and he felt that there was good in you, somewhere deep inside. He thought you might cooperate to avoid prosecution, but that was before we found out that at least five of the females that you helped to smuggle in have died. I do not think that such a deal is possible now. I can only appeal to your conscience. If Kyroo was even just a little bit correct in his assessment of you I need you to tell me where the Yakuza would have taken them."

So, his name really was Kyroo, and even after knowing her for only a few days he had seen that I was fooling myself, and now I'm responsible for five innocent lives. The last of Violet's resistance collapsed. "They have a warehouse, in the north end of town."

"How do I get there?"

Violet described how to find the warehouse and general layout. "You're feisty, but there is no way you are going to be able to save them if Gorou has his gang and my bouncers there. Save yourself the heartache, call the cops."

"I cannot call the police. Someone from the law enforcement community has provided them with inside information. I do not know who to trust."

"Good point." Violet conceded. She knew about Murphy, but who knew who else Gorou had on his payroll. This tanuki was going to need all the help she could get. "You knocked my gun under the night table. Take it. It only has six shots but it's better than nothing."

Akira released Violet's throat and peered under the furniture until she had located the pistol. Then she cautiously got up and backed away from the larger poodle until she could reach under the table and fish it out. She checked the load quickly and then looked around the room. She saw a wakizashi, a sword with a blade about forty centimetres long, on a wall mount over the dresser. "Is that real?"

"Yes. You want it, take it. Anything else I can get you?"

"You would not happen to have some dry clothes, would you?"

"In your size, don't make me laugh." But then Violet remembered something. "I might have something that will do the trick. But it's downstairs in the club."

Akira's eyes narrowed. "How can I trust that you will not phoneTsukasa?"

"You can't. But if it's any help, Kyroo was right about me. I feel like the biggest shit in this particular cess pit. I can't undo what I've done. I just want it to stop."

The Japanese analyst studied her for a moment and then nodded toward the door. Violet slipped out, leaving it slightly ajar.

Five endless minutes later she was back with a bundle of material in her arms. She laid the clothes out on the bed and noted Akira's skeptical expression. "It's the best I could do short notice, but at least it will provide some camouflage." She had also brought a large bath towel and passed it to the sodden tanuki.

Akira striped down, towelled off and donned the outfit Violet had provided. She grumbled as she stuck the short sword and gun in places where they would be accessible. "I am going to freeze my tush."

"You made it from the bay to here covered with ice, you can make it to the warehouse."

"I suppose." Akira turned to face the poodle and gave her a short bow. "Thank you for your help. So sorry that I cannot offer any hope of immunity either here or back in Japan, but I will mention your assistance to the authorities when this is done."

Violet returned the bow as she had been taught and watched the tanuki leave. So brave, so innocent, so naive, she thought. Even with the gun and sword she was sure that the tanuki was doomed. But she was grateful that the Naicho analyst trusted her enough not to have tied her up before leaving. That meant that she could get back to what she had been doing before being interrupted. So, she thought, what will it be? Pills? Slit wrists? Take a bath with her toaster? A pantyhose noose? The choices were endless, but none were as quick or as certain as munching on a .38 Special.

She was paralyzed by indecisiveness, but then Violet remembered, she did have another gun. And, if she was not mistaken, she still had one bullet for it somewhere around here. She got up and began searching.

* * * * * * * *

The snow was falling in large, lazy flakes as Akira conducted a reconnaissance of the Yazuka warehouse. It was large, fairly isolated and unlike the surrounding buildings it was well lit with security cameras on each corner. It had a single entrance at the front and a loading dock with heavy steel doors on one side. Each of them had one of the polar bears from the Bad Dog posted in front of it with an assault rifle. They were dressed in white parkas and black ski pants to fend off the cold and did not look like they would be leaving any time soon. There were a couple of fire exits in the back but she could see that they had anti-intrusion hardware on them. The roof vents were equally well protected and was likely to be slippery with the fresh snow.

It would take someone with ninja skills and the proper tools to sneak in. That left the direct approach. But that was complicated by the position of the bears. They were on adjoining sides of the building and too far apart to be taken out in a single attack, yet they were standing far enough out to be able to see each other and provide covering fire. They were constantly turning, covering all approaches and checking in with each other regularly. After watching for a few minutes she determined that their movements were predictable, which might allow her to approach to the edge of the lit area under the cover of the snow. But what then? While she might conceivably sneak up on one and take it out with the sword the other would surely see and open fire. The snub nosed .38 did not have the range to engage both from a safe place. One bullet would likely not be enough for creatures of their bulk anyway, so by shooting one she would be inviting a hail of fire from the other.

She wasn't worried about whoever was inside the warehouse hearing her pistol. Buildings this far north were built with thick insulation to keep out the cold and that insulation also served to make then virtually sound proof. An assault rifle at close range was another matter however.

A faint sound emanated from the warehouse, a howl of pain. She was not certain but it sounded like Zachary to her. What could you do to someone to make them cry out loud enough to pierce all that insulation? She wondered with a shudder. She had no time to wait. She must attack now and hope for the best.

The snow was still falling straight down but it was thick enough to diminish the light's penetration. Like driving with high beams in a snowstorm it should also reflect a fair amount back into the Bears' eyes. The outfit that Violet had loaned her was pale blue and white and it blended well into the snow. Even the sparkly snowflake shaped sequins on it helped. She just wished that it had come with warmer underwear as the skirts were thin and loose.

She slipped out from under cover as the nearest bear's gaze passed away and used its body to block the other's view as she approached. She drew the wakizashi when the bear's back was turned and dropped the black scabbard least it give her away. Timing her approach carefully she crouched and ran the last few metres as the bouncer turned her way. With the wakizashi held low, cutting edge up, she leapt. With the favour of the gods and a bit of luck ..., she thought.

But luck was not on her side. While it had been turned away the great white bear had shifted its grip on the assault rifle from across its chest to pointing down. Her blade caught the barrel before piercing flesh, and he instinctively turned away, his bulk effectively brushing her sword aside, leaving him with just a shallow flesh wound. By the time she recovered for another strike it had raised the rifle and she had to duck as it squeezed off a single shot. She turned that dodge into a spin tough, bringing the blade around with twice its normal speed.

When she finished the stoke she was facing away from the bear, her ears flat as she waited for the burst of gunfire that would end her life. But it did not come. Glancing at the blade she noted the fresh blood dripping from it. Turning, she saw the bear drop its gun as it fruitlessly tried to hold its guts in the scarlet gap that had appeared across its belly. It failed, and went down on its knees as his intestines decorated the parking lot. Then its eyes rolled back and Akira had to take a step back as the long torso crashed to the snow covered pavement.

She heard the 'clack' of an assault rifle being loaded and looked up. Fifty meters away the other bear was drawing a bead on her. Despite the snow and the distance she was sure that she heard the sound of the selector lever being thumbed to the full auto position. She lowered her sword. The fallen assault rifle was too far away and she could not hope to hit it with the .38 in these conditions. It was over.

Akira heard the crack of a single shot, but she did not see the muzzle blast. The polar bear might have though, as he looked up and behind her while a red stain bloomed in the middle of his chest. After he dropped his weapon and slumped to the ground Akira looked over her shoulder to see who had fired. A figure in a black hooded jacket stood up on the roof of a low building behind her. It pulled the hood back to reveal a white head bisected by a purple mohawk. Then Violet slung the hunting rifle she had used on the bear over her shoulder and slid down one of the drain pipes to join Akira on the ground.

"Don't bother bowing." Violet said as she approached. She picked up the wakizashi's discarded sheath on the way and held it out to Akira. Then she traded her long barrelled gun for the nearest bear's assault rifle. "This will work better in a confined space and I'm out of bullets for the rifle anyway." She explained. "I suggest you grab the other one."

Akira did so, checking the body of the bear for spare magazines at the same time but finding none. She pointed to the security camera on the corner of the building. "Do you think that they know we are here?"

"No. They would have responded by now. The pricks are probably focused on their sadistic little games inside." She tried the front door. It was locked. "How were you planning on getting inside?"

Akira wiped the snow from the fur of her head. "I had thought that far ahead."

Violet studied the camera. It was mounted directly below one of the spotlights and currently aimed down at the entrance. If they pointed it in any other direction the light reflecting off the snow would blind it. Violet removed her jacket slung the small assault rifle across her broad chest and replaced the jacket. "Get directly under the light." She instructed Akira. "It's a blind spot. I have no idea what we'll find inside but follow me and be prepared to shoot. I'll go left, you go right, and hopefully we'll meet up somewhere ..." She was about to say 'somewhere on the other side' but that sounded too fatalistic. "... somewhere inside."

"Good." Akira agreed as she pressed herself against the wall under the camera.

Violet pressed the button on the intercom with her left paw, holding her jacket closed over the assault rifle with the other. She had to wait almost a minute before her ring was answered. "Hai?" A harsh voice spoke in Japanese. She recognized it as belonging to the kitsuni lawyer.

"Smoothy, it's Violet. Let me in. I have to speak to Gorou."

There was a moment of silence and Violet could hear the camera whirr as it focused on her. Then she heard the servos as it swivelled about, probably looking for Muk and Luk. It finally settled on her again. "Where are the guards? How did you get past them?"

"They're at their stations where you left them." She turned and pointed theatrically knowing that the camera could not see anything through the reflective snow. "Don't worry, they frisked me. Got a little personal there too, the pervs. They know I have a, uh, relationship with Gorou and when I told them that I came to apologise they let me through."

Smoothy's voice was replaced by that of Gorou. "Is that why you are here, to apologise?"

Violet heaved a deep sigh and tried to look penitent. Head down, she said "I have come to offer my paw to you for Yubitsume as penance for my foolish behavior. She held her left paw up for the camera and mimicked losing a digit by cocking her pinkie. She waited for what seemed like a very long time for Gorou's reply.

"I accept. Do it out there."

"I, ah, can't do it out here. Muk took my knife and threw it out into the shadows somewhere. But as I recall, you have variety of bone cutters in there. Maybe with a little disinfectant one of them would do?"

"Not to worry. I have my katana here. We can use that." The replay came quicker than before, a good sign she thought. The lock on the door buzzed. "Come in."

"Here goes nothing." Violet muttered as she grabbed her gun and signaled to Akira to follow.

Violet pulled the door open crouched down, rushed in and cut left to clear the way for Akira. Apparently Gorou had not entirely trusted her, as evidenced by the hail of gunfire that greeted her entry. She ducked behind a metal worktable and shots ricocheted off the steel as she crawled to peek around from behind it. Judging by the volume of fire all five of the gang were shooting at her. They must not have seen the tanuki enter behind her, probably because her outfit matched the background of falling snow. She heard a short burst from her right, a scream from where the gang was shooting, and the fire shifted away from her. Violet took the opportunity to run to a pile of driftwood, firing at the muzzle flashes of the gang as she went.

Being attacked on two flanks must have surprised them. Violet heard Gorou bark some commands at his gang and the shooting stopped. She heard the sound of creatures shuffling around up ahead and risked a peek over the pile of wood. She ducked back as a bullet drilled through the wood an inch to the left of her face, but not before she saw what Gorou was up to. There were three bodies hanging in the middle of the room, one that looked like Murphy with a hook through his neck, the other two by their paws. One was Kyroo, and the other must be the Zachary that the tanuki had referred to. Gorou had pulled his troops back to the far side of them and was using them as a shield. If she shot at them she risked hitting the agents they had come to rescue.

On the other side of the entrance Akira had come to the same conclusion. The only way to get a clear shot was to out flank them. Catching Violet's eye she motioned that they should go along the outside walls in alternating rushes. Violet gestured angrily back to indicate that she did not have a clear shot. Akira lay on the floor and fired along it, under the skirt of the drill press she was hiding behind. The shots passed under the feet of the hanging agents and passed among those of the Yakuza, causing them to jump around in a most amusing manner. With a grin Violet ran to the wall and dropped behind another workbench, where she did the same as Akira, providing cover for the Japanese analyst as she moved forward along the opposite wall.

Suddenly the room went dark. Someone had killed the lights. Emergency lighting came on, casting long shadows across the room. The gang could be hiding in any one of those shadows, Violet realized, waiting for them to pass so they could ambush them from behind. She was thankful that she had worn dark clothes, she could disappear as well as they could, but Akira was still in the wispy white and blue outfit that was better suited for the snow than the dark. She'll just have to adjust, Violet thought as she moved forward again under the tanuki's fire.

Akira knew that she would stand out in the dim light, but fortunately she was in a section of the warehouse where the clean bones were stacked. By keeping close to them and holding her rifle parallel to the floor she could blend in somewhat. The trick would be to spot the Yakuza before they spotted her. Violet was firing, so she rushed forward to another pile of bones, only to almost trip over the prone figure of the flying squirrel. The junior member had been wounded in the leg in the initial exchange of gunfire and had stayed behind when the rest of the gang retreated. He grabbed Akira by the legs and brought her down, but the tenacious tanuki spun and landed on her back, keeping her head up to prevent injury and keeping a firm grip on the assault rifle. She selected single fire so that she would not accidentally shoot herself in the legs and when the squirrel began to pull himself up along her paw over paw she waited until his head was at her waist before she put the muzzle into his mouth and pulled the trigger. The result was predictably final, and messy. The middle of her outfit had a huge wet red stain on it when she crawled out from under the dead squirrel. She had to scramble to get back under cover though, as her shot drew fire from the remainder of the gang.

Forgotten for the moment, Violet used the opportunity to move forward again. Now she could see where the gang members were holed up. She was also far enough forward to get a clear shot at them without fear of hitting the Canadians hanging from Gorou's meat hooks. She took aim at the machinery stations they were hiding behind and waited patiently, just like when she was hunting in the boreal forest, waiting for her prey to show itself. She was rewarded by a figure that raised itself head and shoulders above its cover to fire its pistol in Akira's direction. It looked like 'Prosperous' Matsumoto, the accountant. Violet let off a short burst and was pleased to see a fair sized chuck of his cranium go flying before the masked musang slumped lifeless out of sight behind the workstation. But she was disappointed to hear her weapon stop firing before she released the trigger.

Rolling behind cover she checked the assault rifle. The breech was open and there were no bullets in the magazine. The bear she had taken the gun from had not had a full load. Sloppy of him, and sloppy for her not to have checked. But the three remaining Yakuza must be running low also, as they had slowed their rate of fire to individual aimed shots.

She raised her head for a quick look around, and felt a bullet trim her mohawk as she ducked back down. She was close to where Kyroo was hanging, limply with his head down. She had not seen any sign of life from the hanging fox, but she had not seen any obvious wounds on his white fur either. He may be simply unconscious. She needed to get a little farther forward and try to drive the Yakuza back into the far end of the warehouse before she could risk getting him down. But she needed a gun for that.

The Naicho analyst was near the opposite wall and level with the hanging wolf. "Tanaka, pistol!" Violet called.

She saw the tanuki take the .38 out from its robes and fumble to set the safety before sliding it across the concrete floor toward her. Unfortunately it hit some unseen obstruction halfway across and went spinning off at an angle. It came to rest in front of the suspended figure of Kyroo.

Violet gauged the distance between her and the gun. There was not much cover between her and it, but if Tanaka could provide covering fire she might be able to make it. She would worry about at to do with it once she had it in her paws.

"Cover me." She shouted as she sprang out from behind the workbench she was sheltering behind and raced for the gun. She felt several shots whizz by and dove behind the half-rotted carcass of some immense sea creature. She heard the tanuki return fire and one of the remaining Yakuza screamed once, the lawyer by the sound of it, and then made a gurgling sound. Then there was silence, only broken by the ineffectual clicking of firing pins on empty chambers. It seemed that the pistol under the fox's feet was the only loaded gun left in the building.

Violet jumped up and ran for it, but the ezo wolf must have come to the same conclusion because it leapt over the grinding machine it was sheltering behind and went for it also. Violet should have beat him to it, and would have if she had not slipped in a large pool of half-congealed blood near where Murphy was hanging. As it was she went down in a tumble and came to a rest in an awkward position fifteen feet short of her goal.

The wolf was more sure footed. He scooped up the gun and turned to face the prone poodle. Raising it he squeezed the trigger, but nothing happened. He searched for the safety. Violet used the respite to untangle herself, but before she could escape he found the switch and brought the gun up to shoulder level again. He fired three quick shots in her direction. She rolled away desperately but one of the slugs found its mark, burying itself in the meaty part of her thigh.

Grabbing the wound instinctively Violet let out a cry. She knew from hunting down game, and a few folk that had wronged her, that the wound was not fatal, but it would make running impossible. The Japanese wolf with her gun saw her predicament and chuckled evilly as he brought the pistol up to his eye to deliver the coup de grace.

There was a cry from behind him, a scream of pain really. Her recent lover had been playing possum it seemed. Gathering his strength while the wolf's back was too him he had flexed all of his muscles at once, jackknifing up behind Violet's assailant and bringing his bound legs down on either side of its head. The wolf tried to turn but Kyroo had already clamped his thighs around its neck, using the rope at his ankles for leverage as he squeezed as hard as he could. The pistol clattered to the floor as the wolf reached up to pull the fox's legs apart, but that was having no effect. As he began to see red from lack of oxygen he pressed his paws together and drove them between Kyroo's knees, intending to pry them apart.

Kyroo, already in excruciating pain from his impromptu gymnastics, recognized the move and applied the only counter move he could; he called on the last of his reserves to twist his body around, using the swivel of the hook he was hanging by as the focal point. Agony gripped him as his torso came up and around, adding weight and momentum to his hips as they followed. He kept his legs tight around the wolf's neck as they turned over, bringing the assailant's head over and down at the same time. That served to interrupt his attempt to escape, and more importantly, when its body refused to follow the head around it also served to break its neck. The body fell to the floor in a limp heap as painful spasms forced Kyroo to release it and he passed out.

Four down, one to go, Violet thought, and with just three shots left for whoever gets the gun first. The only problem was that she had no idea where it went when the wolf dropped it. She looked around frantically but could see no sign of it. Maybe the wolf fell on it, she speculated, and started to crawl towards it. The effort made her head swim and she had to lower it to the floor

On the other side of the room Akira rose up and rushed to the middle of the warehouse floor. She had thrown away the empty assault rifle and was holding Violet's wakizashi in front of her. Not having seen the exchange between Violet and the wolf she was not aware that there was still a loaded gun in play. She went straight to Zac and gasped when she saw what they had done to him.

Great patches of fur were missing from his arms and torso, burnt away from the heat of the electric currents that had coursed through his body. In the centre of them she saw thin lines of shinny silver metal embedded in his skin. The flesh around them was raw and red, but not bleeding as the capillaries had been cauterized by the heat. Nearby an arc welding machine still buzzed maleficently. She lowered her sword and raised a paw to his cheek.

Zac's eyes opened at her touch. "Akira," he whispered, "you're alive! How?"

"Grandmother taught me well. I learned to hold my breath for up to six minutes and how to keep air trapped in my fur to insulate me against the cold northern sea. Conditions were not ideal and I had little time to prepare, but I felt that throwing myself into the bay and swimming away under the ice was my best chance of escape. So sorry to leave you to them, but I am here now. What did they do to you? What is this metal on your body?"

"Silver alloy welding rods. They must use them for quick inlay work on the bone sculptures. Hurts like hell on the skin though. Can you get me down?"

"Yes." She used the short sword to cut through the loop of rope holding his wrists on the hook above him. As it came loose she dropped the sword and caught him, easing him down to the floor. She swept a pile of metal shavings aside to clear an area for him and she cradled him in her arms as she laid him down, trying to keep the pressure off his wounds.

"What is that get up you have on?" He asked. "It looks rather .... skimpy."

"My clothes were soaked and froze on the walk to confront Violet so she borrowed a costume from one of the entertainers at her club. I think it is supposed to be a snow queen outfit. It is not so warm but it did blend in outside." She looked around, noting the unconscious fox and the prone poodle. "I have to see to Kyroo and Violet, but I will be right back."

"Wait! What about the Yakuza. Are you sure you got them all?"

"Gorou's four subordinates are dead, but I have seen nothing of him. He must have fled out the back while we were engaging the others."

"That is incorrect." The voice that came from the shadows was male, and spoke in Japanese. Akira's head came up and she focused on the patch of darkness where it had originated, but her paw sought out the hilt of the wakizashi.

Gorou stepped out of the shadows. He was still clad in nothing but a loin cloth and socks, and his tattoos shone in the dim light. In his right paw he held a sword a third longer than the one Akira had, a katana of over sixty centimetres she estimated, the sword he was going to cut Violet's digit off with. He held it in a loose grip with the first three digits, point down and out at a forty-five degree angle,

"Where did you steal that?" She mocked. "From some samurai's descendant that you drugged in one of your gambling houses?" She hoped that by bringing up old class prejudices she might make him angry, and thus cloud his judgement, but he showed no sign that it affected him.

The hare continued to advance, ears back, sword held casually, circling around to approach through an area that was clear of obstacles like bodies, hanging or otherwise. "Your family was no more samurai than mine." He chided her. "You are the descendant of peasants and bureaucrats, and not even pure bred at that. Yes, I know about you real grandfather, even the great Tiger Tanaka could not cover that up. How does it feel to know that your mother was the bastard offspring of a Limey cur and a diving girl who could not keep her knees together?"

"You dishonour my Grandmother." Akira said as she rose up from the floor, wakizashi in her right paw, the left a clenched fist. "She taught me many things."

Gorou raised his sword in a two-paw grip and moved directly toward her. "Like how to suck foreign devil cock?" He sneered, going into his attack.

"No. Like this." Akira struck a pose with the sword in her right paw held up and behind her head, but as her left arm came forward she opened her fist and threw a pawfull of metal shavings into her attackers face. Temporarily blinded, the hare chopped blindly where she had been standing, but she had comminuted her move by pirouetting on her left foot, ducking under his blade and spinning around to strike at his back. Unfortunately he sensed the danger he was in and went into a roll. All she managed to do was to trim the fur off his tail where it stuck out of his loin cloth.

With no more tricks up her sleeves Akira joined Gorou in battle. Zac could only watch helplessly as they whirled around, sparks flying off their blades n the dim light. He tried to raise himself up to his knees but he was too week. He searched around him for something to use as a weapon and came up with nothing more than a few metal shavings. He doubted that he could throw them hard enough to duplicate Akira's move. The hare was staying well away from where Zac was laying in any event, least the wolf reach out and trip him.

Across the room Violet lifted her head. She could see the two fighters dancing about in the middle of the open area. She saw that Zac was down from his hook and moving weakly, obviously not able to influence the battle. Kyroo was still passed out and she was afraid that he would die if he hung there much longer. Fortunately she was close to the post where the line suspending him was anchored. She inched her way over, fighting the urge to faint from the pain in her leg. When she made it to the pole she pulled herself up onto one leg and loosened the rope, playing it out to lower him. Once his feet were touching he leaned over in her direction and she played out the rope until he was stretched out on the floor.

Hopping was out of the question so she lowered herself to crawl on her arms and good leg, dragging the wounded limb behind her. The hook at his wrists was not far, and she got him off of it quickly. But when she tried to pull him to safety he cried out, regaining consciousness. Violet crawled to his head and took it in her lap. He appeared unhurt, but his arms were sticking out at funny angles.

"Agghhh! I think I dislocated both of my shoulders on that last move." Kyroo said through teeth clenched firmly together.

"That's easy enough to fix." Violet said. "But not now. I have to help your tanuki friend. It looks like she's not doing so well."

Akira was being beaten back. Skill for skill, the two combatants were probably a match, but Gorou had size, weight and reach on her. His sword's greater length was an advantage also. They parried and clashed, but the smaller tanuki was growing weaker, breathing hard as she fought to counter his attacks with barely any time to strike herself. She knew that if she could not find a weakness in his defence soon it would be over for her.

Violet could see the same thing. There was just no way for her to get close enough with the shorter sword to get a fatal blow in. As the only one even halfway mobile Violet would have to help out ... but how?

She laid Kyroo's head on the floor and started crawling towards the fallen wolf, hoping to find the gun near his body. Gorou caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and broke off an attack that may well have finished off Akira in order to slash at the poodle. Violet scrambled back and Gorou returned to attacking the tanuki.

_Now what? _She asked herself. Having hunted and trapped the Boreal Forest for years she could use almost any form of weapon, but there was nothing nearby that she could fire, throw or stab with. Just the rope that had suspended Kyroo with the hook on the end. She ran her paws over it as an idea came into her head.

The only thing she loved more than hunting was fishing, and fishing for salmon in the rushing Alaska rivers involved more than just dropping a line in a creek and waiting for some dumb bass to take the bait. You needed skill to get the heavier tackle out to where the fish were, and a good deal of strength to haul the slippery buggers back in. But during spawning season when they were as thick as sardines in their can you didn't even need to wait for them to come to your bait, you just put a big hook on the end of a sturdy line and you threw it in to snag them and pull them in. And the most skillful casters could snag the biggest fish, catching their quota quicker so they had more time to enjoy eating them around the campfire later.

Violet always caught the biggest fish.

Using Kyroo as a shield she gathered the rope in a coil that would not tangle and picked up the hook. She tied a loop in the other end where it dangled down below the tackle and slipped it around her wrist. Then she grit her teeth, raised up on her knees and, as soon as Gorou had her back to her, began to swing the sharp steel hook at the end of three feet of rope.

"Hey, Gorou!" She called as he knocked Akira's sword aside and reared back for a killing blow. "Wanna go fishing?"

She released the hook before she finished speaking. Gorou, thinking that she was making a feeble attempt to distract her, did not look around. With the Naicho agent prone and swordless he struck, only to flinch when a flying metal object came into view. He checked his blow and jinked his sword to one side, avoiding entanglement with the hook Violet had thrown.

"Ha!" He cried, just as Violet pulled hard on the rope, bringing the hook back to her. The pointed tip of the hook caught him in the temple, jerking his head around as she set it in his eye socket. It took all of his strength and will to hold his ground, but hold he did. Then he reached up with one paw and pulled the hook from his punctured eye and sliced the rope, sending Violet reeling on her backside. He took his sword in both paws and roared in anger and pain as he took a step toward his attacker, only to remember something at the last second turn back.

Zac and Violet were witness to an amazing sight. While Gorou had been dealing with the hook Akira had recovered her sword. But she was near exhaustion and there were not many blows on the lower body that would guarantee an instant death. She did the only thing she could, she charged at Gorou as his back was to her and ran up his body. She put her lead foot on his calf and then put the other on the outside of his thigh as he began to turn. Her third step was on the bone of his hip and the fourth was planted firmly in his stomach. He could not bring his sword in to play with her so close, but he tried, and she used his cocked arms to step up to his shoulders, where she launched herself into a twisting summersault.

She soared up in the air with her sword held behind her left shoulder. With the style and grace of a figure skater, Akira snapped her arms in and her legs in to accelerate the spin. Then, as her head came around in front of the Yakuza leader's, she put all her strength into pulling the sword out and around in a lightning fast arc. She saw the look of surprise on the hare's face, before she spun away, highlighted by jets of blood escaping from the line that had appeared across his neck.

His head tilted to follow her as she continued to spin and tumble, leaving his neck to shatter on the floor.

Akira landed lightly on her feet facing away from him before his body realized that it was dead. She stared straight ahead as she wiped the blade on her sleeve and sheathed the sword by feel. Behind her, Gorou's body joined his head on the floor.

"Holy shit." Violet commented. "Did Grandma teach you that that too?"

"No." Akira replied. "Grandfather Tanaka did." She drooped as fatigue hit her, but straightened again. There was still work to do, wounded to tend to.

"Zachary." she said as she knelt beside the wounded wolf. "What do we do now? Should we call the police or your agency?"

'Professor' Bill Hanlan's plan had covered this contingency. "We can call the local RCMP." He told her. "The Justice Department cover will hold long enough to get us patched up. Our boss will make arrangements for us after that. Help me up, I think that I saw a cell phone on the cable drum they were playing cards at."

Zac leaned on Akira as they made their way across the room. Their route took them past where Violet was tending to Kyroo, ignoring her own wound. Akira stopped to tear off a length of her Snow Queen outfit to bind her leg with.

"Shit, Zelda's going to be pissed that you ruined her Elsa costume. With her blonde hair extensions she looks just like that bitch. Gets tons of tips tucked in her snowflakes."

"I will replace it for her." Akira assured her.

"Awesome job on Gorou, by the way. I thought he was hooked on me but he really lost his head over you."

Zac groaned. "Do we have to listen to this? You sound like my boss back in Ottawa."

Violet smiled up at Zac. "Can't wait to meet him."

"Meet him? Violet, you are complicit in diamond smuggling, counterfeiting, species trafficking, and probably murder. What makes you think that he'll want to see you?"

"With Gorou gone I'm the only one that can explain what the Yazuka was brining in and where it went, and it goes way beyond diamonds and females. There might even be enough there to put Gorou's father away. Besides," she said grabbing Kyroo's ass, "I haven't had enough of these sweet cheeks yet." She shook them vigorously with giddy relief for being alive and then dropped on top of him to embrace him in a tight, muscular hug.

It would have been better of course if she had remembered that his shoulders were dislocated. He screamed so hard that a police car on patrol nearby responded, eliminating the need to search for a phone.

* * * * * * * *

Several Weeks Later

"You wanted to see me sir?"

"Yes Embers, come in."

Zac stepped into the FOX Chief of Staff's office. Bernadette, the skunkette who was sitting in for the convalescent Miss CC pulled the door closed behind him.

"How's the side?" Silver asked as Zac sat slowly down into an easy chair opposite him.

"Improving." Removing the metal from his wounds had been painful, but Doctor Jones, the chief surgeon at FOX, had done a good job reconstructing the muscle. There would, however, be months of physiotherapy before Zac was fit to be in the field again. Kyroo had had it relatively easy. Violet had reset his shoulders before the ambulance had shown up, and although he had fainted from the pain, he was up and about and 'interviewing' Violet before they were flown out of Yellowknife.

"Good." The silver fox was not one to waste words. "Have you been to see Doctor Gordon?" Doctor Gordon was a white rat that ran the Psychology Department at FOX. He was responsible for vetting recruits for mental stability and suitability, developing non-physical interrogation techniques and treating agents for Post Traumatic Syndrome Disorder, a service they had only started offering recently. Silver knew very well that Zac had not been to see the rat yet, but in his humble opinion the 'therapy' Zac and Akira had been engaged in had been a good substitute. She had left for Tokyo early that morning so he was on his own now. The young wolf looked fine to him, still, one had to check off all the boxes.

"No, not yet, sir. But I'm scheduled to see him tomorrow."

"Don't call me sir, I work for a living. Call me Silver. And don't skip that appointment."

"Yes, ah, Silver, sir. And I'd like to thank you for arranging for Analyst Tanaka to stay here in Ottawa and help with the investigation into the Yakuza activities."

"It's Agent Tanaka now. Her actions in Yellowknife earned her a promotion. Her Grandfather will be proud of her."

"Yes, she said that Grandfather Tanaka is still involved with the Naicho."

"I was thinking of her other Grandfather, the one from MI-5."

"Him? Is he still alive?"

"Very much so. Although age has slowed the old bulldog down a bit. I'm frankly surprised that he didn't leave a batallion of illegitimate puppies behind him. Low sperm count from all the drinking and smoking I guess. And what about you Ember? Have you been using adequate protection?"

"Protection?"

"Tanuki's are canines, like wolves. You can interbreed. And I hear that tanuki are famous for their breeding abilities, that's how our British friend ended up fathering Tanaka's mother."

"Oh my God! The first time was so spontaneous I didn't ... and not since then either! Do you think she ....?"

"Probably. She has her career ahead of her and things have changed in Japan since her Grandmother's era. She's not a poor diving girl. She'll find a good mate back home and settle down ... someday." Silver locked his stare on Zac. "You're not in love with her, are you?" The cold grey-blue eyes seemed to look straight into his thoughts, but Zac was able to answer honestly that he was not. "Good. Not that there is anything wrong with falling in love, but you have a career here to think of too. You did a good job being in charge in the field for the first time. The Academy is expanding and you'll be in line for a senior agent's position after a few more years of experience."

Zac was pleased with the pronouncement, but puzzled. "A good job? But I didn't do anything special. I got us both captured and we would have died if not for Akira's quick thinking and Violet's help. I was helpless to act even after Akira got me off that hook. At least Kyroo had the strength to take one out."

"You couldn't have known about Murphy's treachery, or that he figured out Echos' real identity. Missions are often a sea of circumstance and accident that you need to navigate without benefit of a compass. In this case it goes back to the leak in the Naicho. They tipped the local Yazuka leader off about Akira's arrival and that resulted in your cover being blown, forcing you to either scrub the mission right there or switch Echos into the Frank Peters role. After that events just unfolded as they would. The only thing that you could have done differently was to abort the mission at the airport, and that would have been considered a failure."

The fox leaned over his desk for emphasis. "We don't want timid agents, we want agents that can turn a failure into a victory, that can make things happen, that can adapt and survive. You decided to send Echos after the poodle. You let him cultivate her, discovering a way to influence her that Akira acted on because you kept your team communicating. It all worked out well in the end, and if they had not tortured you so extensively I'm sure you would have taken out one or two of them yourself."

Silver sat back again, and toyed with a paperweight on his desk, a chunk of turtle shell that looked like it had suffered heat damage. "You see, Ember, you don't have to do anything special or be anyone special, you just have to go out there and do the job. And those that can recover from a hard mission quickly build the experience needed to survive the next one. Now you make sure that you tee up with Doctor Gordon and don't hide away moping about what could have been. I'll expect to see you at the lounge for Happy Hour tonight. That poodle you and Echos dragged back has volunteered to tend bar tonight so that Muzzle can help Miss CC move into her new apartment. From what I've seen of her it should be an interesting evening."

"She is quite a character." Zac said as he stood up to leave. Silver stood also and walked the young agent to the door. "And her information has helped immensely with interdicting Yakuza operations bother here and in Japan. Enough to earn her immunity I hear." Kyroo had told him that the Minister of Justice, who oversaw the Foreign Operations eXecutive as well as the Department of Justice, had granted her immunity on the condition that she stay under FOX supervision until such time as it was safe for her to leave custody. Kyroo had also asked him to bring something up with the Chief of Staff. "I was wondering ... " he began, "is there anything that she can do around here now that she doesn't have anything more to tell us?"

Silver opened the door. Hiring had been frozen until the new government sorted out their priorities and the only funds he had available were for Miss CC's salary now that she was on disability leave. He was about to tell Ember that unfortunately they had no positions open when he noticed that Bernadette was under her desk, with only her plump ass and thick tail sticking up. She was not wearing any underwear, and her nether regions were emitting an odour not entirely unfamiliar to Miss CC's office, but more suitable to the bedroom. "Bernie, what in the world are you doing down there?"

The temporary secretary came up from under the desk in a rush, knocking over her chair and sending several files to scatter on the floor. "I, uh, dropped something." She said. In her paw she was clutching a dildo made of silver silicone. It was wet with fluids that did not come from a tube.

Silver recognized it as one of the products from Joel's on-line sex shop - the Chief of Staff - sculpted from a cast of Silver's penis made when he was in a medically induced coma to repair the damage done to his undercarriage by the Werewolf of Odessa. He had ordered Joel to shut down his extracurricular business and destroy all of his stock, but Bernadette must have gotten her paws on one before that happened. Silver had had just about enough of her constant sexual fantasizing. He would send her back to the mailroom where she came from if he had a replacement, but no one else was available ... unless ...

Silver guided Zac out of the executive suite before Bernadette could do anything else embarrassing. "Ember, my boy." He said, placing an arm across the wolf's shoulders. "I think that we might just have an opening for Echo's friend after all."

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

Book VIII - Firestorm

Kain Algorath © Marcus X Light

Joel Grigori © Joel the Lemur

Zachary Ember © EmberWolf

Kyroo Echos © Kyroo Echos

Violet © Gray Muzzle