FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Nexus

Chapter Ten: Like Cats and Dogs

The next time that a cryptic message brought Flynn to Dixie’s apartment she found the feline Furry alone.

“Ryan went out to get something, but he should be back soon.” Dixie told the canine Anthro cop. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Flynn took the same chair with the tail hole as the last time, but she grabbed a small cushion from the sofa to ease the pressure on her hips.

Dixie noticed. “That chair not comfortable enough for ya? That’s a Gio Ponti original. Now, if it was a Nakashima I could understand, but …”

Flynn did not recognize either name, but assumed that they equated to expensive, bespoke furnishings.

“It’s comfy enough in most places.” Flynn explained. “It’s just not built for Anthro hips. When the geneticists played with our DNA, rotating our pelvises to make us walk upright, they overlooked how that would affect us when we went to sit down. Our ass muscles are on the side. Humans, and yours I notice, are on the back and they pad the bones when you sit. Our hip bones are narrower and there is no padding. That’s why we prefer to squat if we can’t get ergonomic chairs.”

“I guess you feel pretty hard done by.” Dixie said, and Flynn detected a note of sarcasm in her tone.

Flynn was angered. What right had this pampered feline to judge her? She’s never lacked for anything. Hell, she thought, the chair I’m sitting in, this Gio Ponti torture device, probably cost more than everything her entire family owned or had ever owned.

The pressure from years of holding her tongue in front of humans welled up inside her, and then it spilled over.

“Yeah, I feel hard done by.” Flynn snarled, slamming a hand down on the ornate coffee table between them. “I feel bad because my people were created to be slaves. I’m pissed because in many parts of the world they still are. And I’m mad because things aren’t so different for us these days. Sure, they let us be cops and firefighters and do other dangerous, tedious or mundane jobs, but except for a few union-controlled places like the Police Force they pay us half what Humans or Furries make yet charge us just as much or more for food and housing. We pay taxes but we don’t have the vote. We’re told that we have freedom but we have no rights.”

“Things are progressing, though.” Dixie reminded her. “Look at you, for instance. Not just a cop but a Detective. I hear that they even have a couple of Sergeants and a Lieutenant that are Anthros.”

“Payoffs to make the mayor look good to the Anthro Rights crowd.” Flynn sneered. “He keeps promising us the right to vote in the municipal elections, but he knows that most of the councillors are against it. The anti-Anthro sentiment in the working-class neighbourhoods is too strong. They complain that we’re taking their jobs even though we’re mostly doing the work they won’t take, and they don’t trust ‘pet’ Anthros like Police or Fire dogs either. They know City Hall is corrupt and they see us as guardians of a broken system.”

“Are you?”

Flynn looked back to Dixie. “Huh?”

“Are you a guardian of a broken system? Do you do what you’re told just to get along or do you keep your opinions buried in futile hope of one day changing the system?”

Flynn’s mouth opened and closed but no sound came out.

“That’s what I thought.” Dixie said, reaching for a cigarette. Flynn noted that there were no butts in the ashtray and no lingering scent of tobacco, so it must have been her first of the day.

“You Anthros.” Dixie said, blowing a lungful of smoke towards the ceiling. “You all cry about how downtrodden you are but you don’t do anything to change it. When was the last time you stood up for yourself?”

Flynn shook her head. “You don’t know what it’s like down there.” She gestured vaguely out the window. “You live safe in your ivory tower, protected by your money and your rights of Human heritage. You can do anything to an Anthro, and the cops wouldn’t care. Not the bosses at least, not most of them anyways.”

Dixie took a deep drag on her cigarette before responding. “Sure, you’ve got it rough, but don’t think that you’re in that boat alone. Sure, Furries have rights, but try enforcing them. I’m one of the lucky ones. I managed to squeeze enough money out of my old man to hide in here, yeah you got that one right, but most Furries are no better off than you Anthros are.”

“You get bullied in school because you stand out like a used tampon in a cotton field.” Dixie continued. “You only make friends with your own kind, if there are any around. Even if you stick it out and graduate you can’t get good jobs because you don’t have any experience, but you can’t start at the bottom in the cheap jobs to get experience because they don’t want to give you the same pay and benefits as Humans when they can hire an Anthro for half the cost.”

“Its worse for the children of Furries.” She added, shaking her head sadly. “Their families have probably disowned them and written them out of their wills. They don’t even have the family structure that you Anthros have to fall back on sometimes.”

“Yeah, one can always go crying to mommy after a hard day’s work at the sex clubs.” Flynn spat, but she regretted it the instant she said it. It was too late though; the barb had stuck and Dixie winced as she reached for another cigarette to light off the one she currently had going.

“Sure.” The feline said, slowly nodding her head. “Not like any Furries were ever forced into doing something they didn’t want to do.”

Flynn wanted to melt into the designer chair and disappear. “Ms. Lee … Dixie … I’m sorry … I forgot … about …”

Dixie looked up at Flynn though a blue haze. “Look, I know your people have it bad. Even the ones with decent jobs have to watch out for the lechers that prey on female subordinates … probably more than Humans or Furries have to. You’re lucky, by the way, that you got assigned to Ryan. He’s not the kind to take advantage. But still, with all your troubles, you can still take pride in your species, in your feral ancestry.” She took another drag and leaned back in the love seat. “It’s not like being a living cartoon, designed to fulfil some perv’s anime fantasy.”

They sat in an uncomfortable silence until Dixie finished her second cigarette. When she did not light another Flynn gathered her courage and spoke up.

“Why did your parents give you black fur?” She asked. “Did they have a choice? Did they go for a specific look?”

Dixie noted the curious tilt of Flynn’s head, something she thought the canine had picked up from Ryan. Yeah, she’s lucky Ryan wasn’t the type to take advantage, she reminded herself.

“No, black was my natural hair colour.” Dixie told Flynn. “My parents are both Chinese, my father from Hong Kong, my mother from here. Like most Chinese they had black hair, so the geneticists just activated a gene to have it grow all over my body and modified it with feline domestic short hair DNA so it wouldn’t get too long. It just falls out after getting to certain length. Pretty easy to manage, really.”

Flynn thought of the daily brushing she had to do to keep her long German Shepherd fur in check, especially on her tail and ruff. “Must be nice.”

Dixie shrugged. “Not if you have allergies.”

“Oh my God! I never thought about that.” Flynn knew from police Academy orientation that a lot of Humans had allergies to animal dander, a risk for any shedding species, that was why she and most of the other canine Officers had to use an allergen neutralizing spray before going on duty. But Anthro dogs were never allergic to themselves, because their DNA was still essentially canine. Furries who were mostly Human in makeup though, and were susceptible to Human diseases and conditions.

“It must be hell to be allergic to your own fur.” She said with sympathy.

Dixie frowned in confusion. “What? Oh, shit, no. Not me, but some kids at school had allergies, or pretended to. It went hard on me. Eventually I had to be home schooled, and that didn’t help my situation vis-à-vis my dad’s abuse.” She added ruefully.

Flynn reached across the table and patted Dixie on the knee. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier.”

“Forget about it.” Dixie shrugged, then she added, “If we’re going to work together we should make peace, even if we have nothing in common.”

“I think we have more in common than we thought.” Flynn said, sitting back in the uncomfortable chair while adjusting the cushion.

Dixie opened her mouth to say soothing but just then they heard the door open. Ryan was back.

The big human had a cardboard box in his hands and he kicked the door closed behind him. He frowned at the two cigarette butts in the ashtray before pushing it aside as he put the box down on the coffee table.

“What you got there?” Dixie asked, unconsciously imitating his head tilt as he opened the box.

“Old Police surveillance equipment that was phased out a few years back.” He said as he laid out small devices with clips and wires. He left the larger components in the box.

“Jesus, Sarge. Who did you steal that from?” Flynn said as she picked up a camera with a lens small enough to fit in a buttonhole.

“Nobody. It was all due for disposal when Homicide got new stuff, but since we were always short on resources I kept a few pieces back, for emergencies. When they cleaned out my desk after … after I got reassigned, they just threw everything in there into storage for me down at the Association hall.”

Dixie picked up something that looked like the kind of cheap costume jewellery that a hooker would wear.

“You seriously want me to wear something like this when I see Gunderson tonight? He knows that I have more class than this.”

“I don’t want you to wear anything for the first meeting.” Ryan assured her. “Gunderson’s not likely to reveal anything incriminating right off anyways. No, what we want to do is assure him that you’re desperate for money and get you a little deeper inside.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard.” Dixie said, barking out a cynical laugh. “Everyone knows that as soon as my father kicks the bucket I’m cut off.”

“What?” Flynn said, frowning in confusion. “I thought you had him by the balls?”

“Only as long as he’s alive and needs to stay out of jail. Once he’s gone all of his money reverts to a trust fund that will support the existing galleries and halls named after him, including a series of Press awards and bursaries to ensure that his reputation stays intact. I’ll be left with whatever I’ve managed to get out of him and any income from investments I’ve made before them.”

“How much is that?” Flynn asked.

Dixie looked embarrassed. “Wellll … what with all the partying and staging embarrassing displays to piss him off … nothing … so far. But I do intend to start putting a little aside … soon.”

“Jesus.” Flynn said under her breath.

“Don’t worry about it.” Ryan assured Dixie. “I’m sure that there’s plenty of time to build a nice portfolio.”

“Oh?” The feline said, looking up to him. “How much you got set aside Mister Vanderbilt?”

“I’ve got a pension.” He pointed out. “Maybe. But that’s beside the point. Gunderson is sure to know your circumstances, otherwise he wouldn’t have approached you in the first place. That will work in our favour. Just play up your fears about your future when you talk to him. Meanwhile, show me some of your good jewellery and I’ll see if I can’t adapt some of these bugs to fit onto them.”

“Okay.” Dixie said, somewhat sceptically. “You’re the Boss.”

When Dixie left to retrieve her good jewels from her bedroom safe Flynn turned to Ryan and asked in a whisper, “Are you sure about this … ‘Boss’?”

Ryan sat back and sighed. There was a moment of silence before he answered.

“This is your first lesson in leadership, Flynn. When you’re in charge you’re never sure, not a hundred percent sure. If you are then you’ve probably forgotten to consider something, some possibility, and that kind of complacency kills. But you still have to act as if you’re sure, otherwise your crew will start to doubt, and doubt kills too.”

He rolled his head to look directly at her. “If everything woks out, even by chance, then you share the glory with your crew. But if things go south … you take all the blame, no matter who fucked up or how much out of your control the circumstances were. Understand?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Good. Now hand me that Jeweller’s tool kit and we’ll see if we can’t electrify some of Miss Lee’s better baubles.

* * * * * * * *

Dixie knew which clubs Gunderson hung out at and it didn’t take long for him to show up in the one she was drinking at. They had been lovers for a short while and had parted on good terms so he did not hesitate to greet her when he saw her at the bar.

“Miss Dixie!” The big Norwegian said as he approached her with his arms held wide for a hug. “It’s been ages since you dropped by!”

His bodyguards, a pair of Furry wolf-men, held back as Dixie obliged his invitation to hug. He was a big man, taller and heavier than Ryan, so she basically hugged his midriff and even then only got her arms halfway around.

“Hey Noah, how have you been?”

“Like a yolk in the egg.”

Gunderson, she knew, had a habit of taking Norwegian expressions and translating them word for word instead of using the English equivalent. She had heard the yolk and egg one before and knew that it meant that he was feeling good, ‘like a pig in shit’, as she would have put it.

“And how are you doing, Miss Dixie?” Despite their previous intimacy Gunderson always addressed her with some formality.

“Not like the yolk in the egg.” She replied, adopting a frown for effect.

“Oh?” He said, looking concerned. “What is it that is bothering you? Is it that policeman, Ryan?”

“No … well … he did try to lay into me … him and that canine partner of his, but since he got kicked out he’s not bothered me. Why do you ask? You know him?”

“Oh yes.” Gunderson said, nodding slowly. “He is a tenacious one, but very stupid. Normally I would say ‘don’t judge a dog by its hairs’, but in his case it is true. He is exactly what he appears to be … a simpleton.”

“Jesus, Noah, don’t beat around the bush. If you don’t like the guy, just say so.”

Gunderson frowned for a moment while he digested her words. “Ah!” He said, his face lighting up. “Sarcasm. You are one of the few people I know that dares to use it with me, Dixie. It is a good thing that I take you for a good fish, otherwise I might think that there were owls in the bog.”

“Okay, now you’ve lost me.”

The big Norwegian wrinkled his brow and pursed his lips in thought. “I take you for a good fish means that I trust you, that you would not lie to me or insult me behind your hand. Owls in the bog are something suspicious, something out of place. If you were being nice to me and … what is it said … sucking up to me, then that would be suspicious because that is not like you. But I asked, so now tell me, what is that troubles you?”

Dixie heaved a sigh that she hoped would be convincing. “It’s my old man, my father. He’s been sniffing around again, threatening to put all his money in a trust before he kicks off and cut me off if I don’t move back in with him and … and you know.”

Gunderson did indeed know. Dixie had explained it to him in the short interval while they were lovers. And her words did hold a grain of truth, her father had made such threats, but that was long ago, and she had laughed in his face because the last thing he would want is for someone else to control his money while he was still alive. She doubted that he would have told anyone about the incident though, especially someone known to take advantage of weaknesses like Gunderson.

The old Viking looked sad. “Not that I can blame anyone for finding you desirable, Miss Dixie, but an attraction to one’s daughter is abhorrent. Although I find myself in his company on occasion due to our mutual support for some political causes, I do not seek it out. Is there anything I can do to help though?”

“Well, now that you mention it, daddy’s talk about cutting me off does scare me a bit. He hates having to pay me an allowance every month and he’s always looking for ways to get out of it. It got me thinking that I should find another source of income, just in case. That’s when I remembered your offer.”

Gunderson’s eyelids dropped halfway down so that he had to tilt his head back to look at her. “Oh yes, I remember. I was looking for beautiful women like you for a breeding program I was considering.”

“Considering? So, you never went ahead with it?”

He made a brushing away gesture with one big hand. “If I had, why would you now be interested?”

“Well, the money you promised did sound good, I just didn’t think I needed it at the time, and the fact that my being neutered didn’t seem to bother you made me wonder if the offer was legit.”

“Ah! You are confusing fertility with the ability to bear children. You had your tubes tied, yes? You did not have your ovaries or your womb removed?”

“That’s right. They just snipped the tubes and cauterized them so the eggs couldn’t make it down to the womb.”

“Exactly. That is why it doesn’t matter. You are still producing eggs. Eggs that can be harvested and stored. Those eggs can be fertilized with donor sperm and implanted in you to bring them to term.”

“Why me though? You must employ a hundred Anthros in your clubs that are better looking than me?”

“Oh, Miss Dixie, do no disparage yourself!” Gunderson said, running a blunt fingertip down her bare arm. “Your beauty is beyond compare! Besides, there are other … advantages … to using Furries rather than Anthros. Do you have other questions?”

“You said that I could opt for full term pregnancies or shorter, eight-week ones. How does that work?”

He waved his hand dismissively again. “That is not your concern, or mine. Just know that it is possible to have either. If long pregnancies do not suit your lifestyle then shorter ones, more often, may be just as financially rewarding. Either way, you will not have to deal with the offspring; the little ones will be removed immediately after birth and raised by surrogates. You will be free to resume your current style of living immediately afterwards.”

“It sounds almost too good to be true.”

“Then you must take me to be a good fish,” he said with a grin that was not entirely friendly, “because I can offer no more proof without your actual participation.”

“This isn’t going to get me in trouble with the law is it? I know that the cop. Ryan has been suspended but he and his canine sidekick give me the willies. Your businesses don’t exactly have a stellar reputation with the police, and like you say, they can be tenacious.”

Gunderson gave her knee a reassuring pat. “Nothing that I would ask you to do could be considered illegal, or even immoral, no more than being a surrogate mother is. As for my business, if you don’t know anything you can’t be expected to be blamed for anything, can you?

“I suppose not.” Dixie said, frowning. “Can I think about it a bit?”

“Yes.” He said, giving the bartender a sign. “Your drinks are on me tonight. But if you do agree to join my program you will have to abstain from alcohol while you are pregnant, as well as tobacco.” He added, wrinkling his nose at the smell clinging to her fur. “Do you think you can do that?”

“Yeah.” She said, somewhat surprised that he had noticed the odour of the cigarettes she had chain smoked before going into his club. She only smoked when she was nervous and she had not smoked much while she was seeing him because he frowned upon the habit. “I can manage that.”

“Good then. Let me know when you decide.” And with that he stood up, gestured to his bodyguards and left.

Wanting to get back to Ryan and report, Dixie did not take much advantage of the free drinks, but she did order one strong one for the road and snuck into the washroom for two cigarettes while she waited for it to be served.

* * * * * * * *

Back in Dixie’s apartment Ryan had taken over the butler’s pantry as he soldered and adjusted his old electronics to fit Dixie’s jewellery.

Meanwhile, Flynn nervously paced in the Living room, preferring to walk rather than sit in the chairs designed for Human and Furry butts. She was having second thoughts about using Dixie Lee to trap Gunderson. From everything that Ryan had told her about the wily Norwegian it was not beyond the realm of possibility that the old Viking was using the feline to get to Ryan.

Despite Ryan’s dismissal of the coincidence, Dixie could have been placed in Gunderson’s club to attract their attention … Ryan’s attention, more likely. She could have been directed to start a relationship with the disgraced cop. Then, after orchestrating Ryan’s fall from the wagon it would only be natural for him to cry on the shoulder of the creature that had recently become his lover. And now Ryan was trusting a cat, of all things, to help him get the one person that could solve Dixie’s financial woes.

Flynn had only recently begun taking Human Psychology lessons but she knew how love, or lust, could adversely effect their judgement.

Dixie returned while Flynn was still trying to figure out how to broach the subject with Ryan. As soon as she entered the apartment Flynn could smell the alcohol and cigarettes on her breath. Flynn’s brow wrinkled deeper. Hadn’t Dixie said that she was abstaining from drinking while Ryan was living with her?

Ryan herd Dixie come in and he came out from the kitchen to greet her with a quick hug and a short kiss. He too frowned when he detected the odour of booze and tobacco, but he said nothing.

“How did it go?” He asked with some concern.

“Well enough.” Dixie replied as she sat down in her Gio Ponti chair since Flynn wasn’t using it. She repeated the gist of her conversation with Gunderson, including his allusion that the less she knew about the scheme the better.

Ryan chewed a thumbnail, his own nervous habit, as he considered what she had said. “Obviously he’s up to something, something profitable and likely not exactly legal, despite his assurances to you, Dixie. But what could it be?”

“The choice of gestation periods is what gets me.” Flynn injected. “Eight weeks is roughly the time it takes for feral cats or dogs to produce offspring.”

“Do all the Furry and Anthro species have the same gestation period as Humans?” Ryan wondered.

Dixie shook her head and shrugged. The subject had never come up between her and her gynaecologist. She and Ryan both looked to Flynn with eyebrows raised in inquiry.

“Well …” Flynn said as the silence deepened. She knew more than she cared to admit about the subject because it came up often in young Female Anthro circles where marriage and babies or joining the sex trade were often the only career choices.

“It varies.” She admitted. “The Human DNA tends to reinforce itself in Anthro offspring, making their traits and bio-systems more like their Human donors over several generations. Anthros from old families have a gestation period closer to nine months, but first-generation breeders, the ones that the smaller gangs rely on for new talent, their pregnancies can be the same as their feral ancestors.”

Ryan’s head cocked to one side. “What kind of traits?”

Flynn’s hand rubbed her abdomen unconsciously, feeling the vestiges of six sets of nipples below the two large breasts that her Human DNA imposed on her aching back.

“Some physical traits that disappear in later generations, but there are cognitive differences too. My grandmother could barely read and write, and she told me that her grandmother could hardly string two words together. Not that she needed to, since unskilled labour was the only option to her and her ancestors.”

“It’s one of the things that has held my people back,” Flynn said thoughtfully, “the lack of access to proper schooling on top of diminished intellectual capacity. Honestly, I can’t think of a single Anthro of less than six generations that could pass the test to get on the Force, let alone function in an advanced role.”

“Like a detective?” Ryan said with a sly grin.

“Yeah, I guess.” Flynn made a mental note to ask Chase how far back his family went, then she turned to Dixie and frowned. “I can’t speak for Furries though.” She added, still wondering if the feline was putting on an act to fool Ryan into trusting her.

Ryan stood up before Dixie could reply. He was a bit confused because it had seemed that the two had been getting along better earlier in the day.

“Here’s what were going to do to get Lawson panicked enough to reveal himself.” He began.

“… and that’s the plan.” He concluded several minutes later. “These old electronics don’t have much range but they are reliable. I’ll go finish off the piece I was working on and then we can test it out. If all goes well we can put the plan into operation as early as tomorrow.

Ryan left the room, headed for the pantry.

As soon as he was gone Flynn turned to confront Dixie. Dixie seemed to be expecting a fight.

“So, what’s put a fly up your ass, Flynn?”

“Are you gaming us?” Flynn demanded. “How do I know that you’re not doing this out of loyalty to your future meal ticket? You were his pet at one time, what’s to stop you from returning to his bed?”

Dixie let out a snort of contempt. “Speak for your own species, canine. Dogs may be slavishly loyal, but you ever try to fuck a cat that didn’t want to be fucked? It’s not pretty.”

Flynn’s anger got the better of her. “So, why’s your father still walking around intact?”

Dixie’s eyes went cold, colder than Flynn could have imagined and her fangs began to show. “You don’t want to know.” She told Flynn.

Ryan returned and stooped halfway through the door, sensing the chilly atmosphere in the room.

“I, uh … modified a couple of pieces.” He said as his eyes shot from one to the other. “what do you say we try them out?”

“Sure.” Dixie said, not taking her eyes off Flynn’s. She shrugged her shoulders to drop the loose dress she had worn to the club. As was her habit when going out she had not bothered to put on anything underneath it.

She stood in the centre of the room, challenging Flynn with her eyes, naked save for the choker and a pair of bracelets she habitually wore.

“Where do the wires go?” She asked Ryan.

“There, uh, aren’t any wires.” He said approaching her carefully. “I built the antennas into the jewellery, that’s why the range is so short.” He held out a few pieces. “Since you always wear a choker and bracelets I figured that Gunderson wouldn’t get suspicious if he saw you wearing them, so I put the bugs in three that looked like a set. The camera is in the choker where it can get a good field of view and each of the bracelets has an additional microphone and transmitter. That gives us some redundancy; even if any two fail we’re still covered.”

Dixie glanced at the pieces Ryan was holding. “Good choice. They’re older ones that Gunderson has seen me wear before.”

Still naked, she began to remove the jewellery that she was wearing.

Flynn was trying not to stare at the naked Furry, but she couldn’t help comparing the feline’s body to her own. Other than the human-like lower legs and feet most of the differences were subtle; more meat on the behind and less on the sides of the hips and thighs, more fur on the belly and less leanness there, with no sign of vestigial nipples and breasts that hung more naturally. As for where her legs met her torso …

Flynn tore her eyes away from Dixie’s groin and concentrated on watching her don the jewellery Ryan had modified. Something caught her attention, a difference in the fur pattern at Dixie’s wrists and around her neck. Her head tilted to the side.

“You’ve got bare spots on your wrist and neck.” She said without thinking. Then she remembered how her great-grandfather, an enslaved worker who was not as compliant and cooperative as his master desired, had similar marks and her face went red enough to show through her fur.

Dixie smiled knowingly as Ryan looked on in confusion. “Yeah, wearing restraints for long periods of time does that to you.” She said. “I guess that answers your earlier question too?”

“What’s going on?” Ryan asked nervously.

“Nothing.” Dixie said as she snapped the last piece around her wrist. “Just girl talk. I’m going to go see if I have an outfit to go with these.” She strutted off towards the bedroom, her tail swaying defiantly high behind her.

Flynn turned to Ryan and said in a harsh whisper, “Again, boss, you sure about this? What if she’s tipped him off? How can you trust a …” She almost said ‘cat’. “… a person like her?”

“I believe in her, Flynn, but even if she has thrown in with Gunderson, at this point, what choice do I have?”

“Jesus, Ryan, I wish I had your faith in Humanity … Furmanity … whatever.”

“You have to have faith, sometimes.” Ryan assured her. “Otherwise, the doubt creeps in, and you remember what I said about doubt …”

“Yeah, yeah. Doubt kills.” But so does cunt-struck blind faith, she added to herself.

“Right. So just stick to the plan and everything will turn out fine.”

Fine my ass, Flynn told herself. I bet the old Viking has killed more people than doubt ever did. Fuming, she turned away so that Ryan could not see the anger and frustration on her face.

Stick to the plan he says, she was thinking, man the recording equipment while he makes a sacrifice play and be ready to call for backup and rush in as soon as they had evidence incriminating both Gunderson and Lawson. Then a thought struck her. Why wait for the Calvary to arrive when you can have it right there?

“Okay boss.” She said turning back to him with a much calmer facade. “We’ll do it your way.”