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FOX Academy:

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

Chapter 1 - Under a Hunter's Moon

He ran, guided only by the light of the full moon. He ran because he was terrified. Most of us fear the unknown, and the big rottweiler was no exception, and in his case the hunter had become the hunted. The role of prey was a new one for him, and so he was terrified.

Adding to his distress was the unfamiliar terrain. He was used to the cities, where he hunted criminals, and the forests that lined the highways, where he hunted feral deer each November. But he never ventured very far from the highway, you didn't have too with the game population exploding thanks to the new restrictions, and he always stuck to high dry ground, avoiding the swamps and river beds that others preferred. The area he found himself in now was a marsh of tremendous proportions. It was all the stranger since it should not be here in the first place.

There were stretches of deep open water and expanses of inundated ground where reedy water plants grew. One lost all sense of direction amongst the reeds and it was impossible to see anyone approaching from more than a few meters away. The ground under the water was uneven and slippery, with deeper spots that could swallow one whole. Floundering through one of these, he found himself wishing that his mother had mated with a retriever of some sort, a Labrador, or even a Portuguese water dog. He had inherited his parents distaste for water and had never learned to swim.

There were small grassy islands throughout the marsh. They stuck up from the reeds and water like green breasts. They were joined by narrow paths that meandered through the swamp. At first he stuck to those trails, believing that he was the hunter and the creature in the water the prey. But he soon came to recognise those restrictive pathways for what they were, game trails. This place was designed for hunting, but not the kind of city dweller-friendly hunting that he was used to. The marsh and reeds served to hide a water-based hunter as effectively as a camouflaged tree stand used to hide him in the forest. He had abandoned the dry land after the third ambush left him with another gapping gash across his chest.

He stumbled on a root, unseen under the murky water. He went down hard, sending a wave of water through the weeds. He picked himself back up and hurried on, splashing through the reeds, panting loudly, desperately seeking an exit to the open plains. He knew that he should slow down but panic had set in. He did not want to be here, he did not want to be wet, and he did not want to die. He wished that he could get his paws on his tormentor, and then he would show that slippery bastard a thing or two.

This was supposed to be an easy secondment, a break from the high-stress world of Criminal Intelligence, but the big rottweiler's heart was pounding faster than it ever had before and his breath was getting shorter and shallower with each passing minute. He believed that he would not make it out of this watery trap alive, and that knowledge of what he had discovered would die with him. No one would be able to find where he had secreted the information, he had done to good of a job hiding it, and if the good guys could not find it the bad guys had won. The sense of failure, another new and disturbing feeling to add to his terror, was the worst of all.

What was that? He stopped. Had that been a splash up ahead? Or maybe it had come from the side? But which side, the reeds seemed to muffle sound and spread it around at the same time. It could have come from anywhere. He spun around, expecting the hunter to erupt from the water behind him. There was not even a ripple on the surface back along his trail. He turned back again quickly, certain that the assailant was in front of him, laying in ambush. He snapped his head left and right and back, trying to look in all directions at once. Should he continue, or turn? If he kept to a straight line he would eventually find the edge of the swamp, but his route would become predictable. If he started turning every time he got nervous, he could be lost forever in this marshy wilderness. Almost crying with frustration now, he decided to continue the way he had been going, and reached out to part the reeds.

The reeds separated quietly. He saw a stretch of open of water on the other side. All was quiet. He put one foot forward, felt around for good footing before raising the other. That's when something grabbed his leg and pulled him under in one smooth motion.

The water roiled as hunter and prey rolled just under the surface. The hunter had no need to emerge to breathe, but the rottweiler fought to make his way to the surface. He made it only once, and wasted the opportunity by screaming as the flesh was ripped from his bones. Seconds after he was dragged back under the commotion ceased, and all was quiet again.

* * * * * * * *

Although it was a beautiful late-summer Friday afternoon, Silver was on the automatic indoor range, where he could be found every day from one to three p.m. when he was not working on an assignment. The time was set aside for senior agents and their guests, so as the Foreign Operations eXecutive's only senior agent at the moment, he had the range to himself, again. Silver liked it that way. The fifty-two year-old silver fox was set in his ways and preferred following his own regime. Besides, when he was alone he could push himself to the limits without fear of accidentally shooting some spectator.

Occasionally he would invite his friend, the FOX Chief of Staff, the golden-toned Tancred "Tanner" Williams to shoot against him, but Tanner accepted infrequently. This was not only because no one in the Academy history had a better shooting record than Silver, but also because the larger, older, and considerably more muscular Chief of Staff was busier than usual lately. The Director, the formidable walrus Sir Wilbur Wadsworth Withersby, know affectionately as 'W' to all, had been deferring more and more of his work to his second in command. Sometimes the Academy combat instructor, the large red, tobacco-chewing doberman know as Rusty, would come over, but he knew that Silver preferred to practice alone. So there was no one there to see the silver fox collapse.

Silver, who had chosen his colour-related codename because of his silvery fur, was fine one moment and down the next. The first indication that an attack was coming on was when his vision suddenly blurred. That was quickly followed by a blinding pain in his temples. He squeezed his eyes shut and fumbled to return his pistol to its holster as he fell to his knees. This was not the first incident of this kind, but it was the first to strike so early in the day. It was also worse than any of the previous attacks, and the pain drove him to the ground, where he curled up in a tight ball, as if that would protect him.

He stayed like that for a few minutes, waiting for the pain to abate. The symptoms had started some months ago, with short periods of blurred vision. A little rapid blinking or a moment with his eyes closed worked to restore his vision back then. Then the headaches had come. At first they only lasted a few seconds, and only struck on one side of his head or the other, but as time passed they grew more intense, covered more territory and lasted longer. Then the symptoms started appearing together. Several nights ago Silver had to fight to keep his eyes open as he drove back through Ottawa's Central Experimental Farm to the Academy, guided only by the fuzzy images of the trees that lined the road reflected in his headlights. Fortunately there was very little traffic at night in the agricultural facility that served to disguise the home of Canada's most secretive espionage agency.

It was several minutes before Silver was able to uncover his head and open his eyes again. The bright lights of the range brought the headache back immediately. He crawled over to the control panel and dialled the intensity down to 'Twilight' before attempting to open them again. When he finally succeeded he discovered that his vision was still blurred. He could see neither the targets nor the foresight on his Glock when he held it up to unload it.

Silver had to admit that this had gone on long enough. He had hoped that the symptoms would fade and disappear on their own but they were growing steadily worse. An episode like the one just now while on a mission could be catastrophic. If it were only his safety that he had to worry about he might have continued to deny the illness, but he would also be responsible for the lives of the junior agents working with him. Silver knew that he had to be grounded as medically unfit. It was time to visit the Academy infirmary.

He inserted a full magazine before re-holstering his weapon. Fuzzy vision or not he could still hit anything the size of a torso at twenty-five meters by instinct alone, and when you were in his line of work, danger and death waited around every corner.

* * * * * * * *

In another part of Ottawa, FOX junior agent Vikki Beausoleil was in grave danger, but there was nothing that she could do about it. She was convinced that any moment now she and her fellow junior agents would die in a fiery inferno.

Over six feet tall, Vikki was a slim, elegant, red fox with vibrant fur. She had come to FOX after a foreshortened career in the Ontario Provincial Police Biker Squad and done very well, despite losing her left paw and half of that forearm on her first mission. She had become Silver's lover, and the mother of his child while she finished her training and practiced with the robotically enhanced prosthetic paw that she wore. At the moment, that paw was crushing the dashboard of her vintage Mustang as the car careened out of control toward a concrete abutment.

In the front of the car with her was Marcel, a young black fox of diminutive stature that had been a street kid before Silver recruited him as an unconventional agent. Marcel had no use for his last name, and used his cover as the professional skateboarder Anthony Foxx everywhere outside of the Academy. Until recently Marcel had believed that he was in love with the beautiful and graceful Vikki, but now he was over that, and lived happily, if not quietly, with the cheetah Geno. At least he had, and would again, if he could get them out of this predicament.

Geno was in the back seat of the Mustang, also holding on for dear life, but wearing a huge grin and whooping like a mad fool as the concrete wall got closer and closer. She was leaning up between the bucket seats, her large breasts squeezed between them. She was dressed in her usual fashion, a top that revealed everything but her nipples and shorts that looked painted on. Multiple piercings, a large antique silver cross, numerous leather straps and a collar completed the ensemble. Her green eyes blazed and her blond hair flew as they raced toward certain death.

The car swerved left. It swayed and straightened out, now heading straight for the wall that separated the Bayshore Mall parking lot from the Queensway expressway. Marcel spun the wheel hard and the car went into a slide. Reversing the wheel did no good, so he jammed the gas pedal to the floor. Still moving sideways at a high rate of speed the tires smoked in fifth gear as the carburetor opened all the way. Vikki screamed out the name of her son and threw her right arm over head as impact became certain. In the back, Geno swore and dove to the floor. Marcel just gritted his teeth and held on.

An instant before they made contact with the wall the tires on the leading side of the car hit a line of raised asphalt designed to keep shoppers from parking too close to the wall. The shock lifted the vehicle up on one side, and slowed it enough for the squealing tires to catch on the pavement. Instead of smacking into the concrete sideways, the raised tires kissed the wall just as the car regained forward momentum. Vikki opened her eyes to discover that Marcel was driving her car on a forty-five degree angle, with the right-side tires on the pavement and the left-side ones on the wall. They were still in fifth gear and accelerating as they approached the ramp to the expressway. Vikki looked back to see if they were being pursued. The coast looked clear.

"Take your right foot off the gas and put your left foot on the clutch!" She shouted at Marcel. As soon as he did she reached over and knocked the transmission into neutral. She grabbed the steering wheel with her robotic paw and jerked it just enough to bring all four tires back to the roadway. She steered them into the breakdown lane before they could merge with the traffic on the expressway and applied the parking brake to bring them gently to a halt. She pressed the button to activate the four-way flashers and turned calmly to face Marcel

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?" She screamed at him, blowing the fur back from his face with the force. "I told you to slow down and shift down, not speed up and go into high gear. Christ! Why did I ever let Silver talk me into teaching you how to drive?"

"It's not my fault that the shift pattern on this pig is so tight." Marcel shouted back. "Why did they put first third and fifth beside each other anyway?" He complained. Marcel didn't understand why Silver wasn't teaching him either. The old fox had a lot more patience for one thing, even if he was an irritating perfectionist.

Having run away when he was fourteen and lived on the streets since then, Marcel was missing some of the normal qualifications required for acceptance at FOX, like a driver's license. The omission had been embarrassing, but not insurmountable, however now that the Academy was in a lull Silver had been seeing that the gaps in Marcel's education were filled.

There were no new recruits at the academy so Marcel could not join an ongoing class. They didn't teach basic driving skills anyway, only advanced techniques. So Silver had decided to teach the young fox himself. The first lesson had been spent just sitting in one of the Academy cars, touching the controls, not even starting the engine. Silver would not let him do that until he could work the lights, radio, wipers and ejector seat €" disabled for students €" blindfolded. The second lesson had been spent turning the engine on, and then off. On, and then off. On, and off. Then a review of where all the controls were.

"Why are we doing this?" Marcel had asked, his own patience failing.

"Because you need to be able to do everything automatically." Silver replied calmly. "Being able to do things without looking saves reaction time and allows you to keep an eye on the situation."

"Speaking of automatics, why do I have to learn on a car with a manual transmission?" Marcel had jiggled the stick shift for emphasis.

"Besides giving you more control and being more fun to drive, if you learn to drive only automatics then half the cars in the world are unavailable to you." Silver pointed out. "You learn to drive a stick and you can drive anything. Now turn on the engine and the lights at the same time while looking in the rear-view mirror."

But before they had gotten to the point where he was actually driving Silver had suddenly stopped giving him lessons and asked Vikki to take over. Marcel was disappointed, because he was starting to regard Silver as the father he never had. The patient, tolerant, knowledgeable, 'shoot you in the leg and leave you stranded on a cliff in the Gatineau Hills just to teach you a valuable lesson' kind of dad every kid deserves. Marcel wondered if teaching him had been giving Silver a headache like he always claimed it did; the old fox had been rubbing his temples all through their last lesson together. He didn't think that he was that bad of a student, and was rather proud of the way today's lesson had ended, so why was Vikki on his case all of a sudden?

"Hey, give the kid a break." Geno popped back up and came to Marcel's defence. "At least he didn't panic." Geno was the first creature of a species other than a fox to become a field agent for the Academy. Before her only foxes, selected for their agility and intelligence, had been accepted as agents of Foreign Operations eXecutive. It was said that the first group of agents had selected the name of the Academy and created the acronym, FOX. This is true. The Academy was originally named the Directorate of Intelligence Liaison and Directed Operations, but no one wanted to be known as a DILDO agent.

Geno had fallen for Marcel when he broke the rules and used his skills as an agent to save her from being raped in a back alley, risking exposure for both himself and FOX. Although they had tried to convince her that it wasn't true, the untamed feline was convinced that she had found a bona fide secret agency, and she wanted in. Her intelligence, initiative, resourcefulness, luck, and the Mother Superior of the local convent, convinced the Chief of Staff to take her on as another unconventional agent.

There had almost been one other non-fox before her, a female cloud leopard who, as a student, had participated in one mission before disappearing. Mystery surrounded her actions at FOX and her fate was unknown, but Vikki suspected that Silver had something to do with it. However, her close-lipped lover never talked about it.

Vikki had never cared much for Geno, even though the cheetah had played a vital role in rescuing her from the yellow monkey the year before. She considered the under-dressed and over-sexed kitty to be a slut. She had to admit that she was also a little perturbed when the feline was able to get into FOX after a single challenge test while Vikki had sweated through six months of training before she was accepted as a junior agent. For her part, Geno used to be jealous because her guy was smitten with the beautiful vixen, but she secretly wanted to be just like her. Sensing that Vikki did not respect her however, she reacted by exaggerating her unsavoury side whenever Vikki was around.

"Didn't panic?" Vikki sputtered. "He didn't panic? He drove through a public parking lot at eighty kilometres an hour with two wheels on the wall after almost smashing my car into it! Look at my dashboard!" She gestured to where her mechanical digits had crushed the trim and steel underneath, leaving an outline of her paw two centimetres deep.

"Oh come on, there was hardly anyone at the mall this morning, that's why you wanted to practice here wasn't it?" Geno shot back.

"It's okay Geno, I'll handle this." Marcel told her.

"Like you handled the car just now Mister Schumacher?" Geno didn't like being interrupted.

"If you had stopped sticking your digit in my ear while I was trying to drive ..." He turned on her.

"Oh yeah? Well you know where you can stick it tonight buddy ... while you're sleeping on the floor!"

Vikki shook her head sadly as the two volatile lovers argued and insulted each other with total disregard for their surroundings or anyone nearby. Unfortunately these arguments tended to end in an equally violent session of lovemaking, again with no regard for where they were of who was about. Vikki confirmed that the car was too close to the abutment for her to open the door on her side and escape. Staring straight ahead, she started to tap the button for the emergency flashers on and off in a pattern of three quick flashes, three slow ones, and three more quick ones. Maybe, she thought, some passing police officer who knew Morse code would see and intervene before things got totally out of control.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Marcel leap between the bucket seats and pin Geno against the upholstery. Too late.

* * * * * * * *

The only members of the Academy who appeared to be working that afternoon were the arctic fox Kain Algorath and the grey fox Bill 'the Professor' Hanlan. Both were in the FOX operations centre, where the network of agents and any ongoing operations were controlled.

Kain, once the world's foremost teenaged hacker, was reviewing reports about recent cyber attacks on critical infrastructure. Criminal gangs, playful hackers and foreign intelligence agencies were known to be probing the systems that controlled the electrical grid, the oil and gas pipelines, transport and air traffic control in North America. As a former 'playful hacker', Kain understood how interconnected all those systems were, and how vulnerable that made them.

Bill Hanlan was reading an environment Canada report on a developing weather system on a split computer screen, with the matching satellite imagery on the other side. Although intelligence analysts don't predict the weather, they watch it closely and gauge its effect on their and enemy operations. The Department of Public Safety also sent out extreme weather notices to the rest of the government because most departments had a role to play in responding to natural disasters either at home or abroad. FOX did not, but as part of the planning staff Bill kept an eye on the extreme weather in case they had to advise any agents in the area.

Kain looked over at bill's screen and saw a tight spiral of clouds over the Caribbean and another covering most of Quebec. "Looks like it's going to be a crappy long weekend." He observed. "You going anywhere?"

"No." Bill answered. "We blew all our savings on our vacation this year so the mate and I are just going to hang out around here. What about you, why are you still here on the Friday afternoon of a long weekend?"

Kain shrugged. Someone had to stay behind so I volunteered. I'm taking Duty Officer for the weekend in exchange for four days off the week of thanksgiving."

That didn't surprise Bill. Kain was the loner of the Academy. Ever since the cloud leopard he had been sweet on disappeared he had been a recluse. Kain had no female companion and few friends. He lived on the grounds and could usually be counted on to fill in around the headquarters if someone was sick or they just needed an extra paw. When he did go on vacation he went alone to exotic places, probably to drown his sorrows in cheap booze and expensive hookers, Bill supposed. He was at a loss for words.

Kain let the pause in their conversation stretch out. He was thinking of the elaborate steps he had to take to be with the cloud leopard that everyone else though had died or disappeared. Ophelia Cassidy Sommer, Cass to her few friends, was supposed to be executed for poisoning her abusive husband as well as one of her fellow students. She had also attempted to kill Silver while they were on a mission in the Arctic. But Silver had seen something worth salvaging in her, and a talent that could be exploited. She was now the deepest of deep cover agents, posing as the assassin known as the Perfect Stalker. But she could not come back, or contact any of her former friends on pain of death, the threat maintained through an exotic antidote that needed to be taken monthly. That list included her younger lover, Kain, but that did not let that stop them. Through complex and complicated communications they arranged to meet in isolated spots around the world for a week here and there.

As much as he loved Cass, Kain had to admit that keeping one step ahead of the security at FOX was also thrilling. It kept life interesting enough to keep him here as a part-time field agent and part-time resident White Hat hacker.

He suddenly realized that Bill was still sitting there quietly. The Professor was a smart guy but not so good on the interpersonal relations. To fill the awkward silence Kain asked about the cloud formation in the Gulf of Mexico.

"That is Hurricane Eunice." Bill began eagerly, never happier than when he was lecturing. "It's a category four and getting stronger. It's predicted to be a category five when it hits the coast of the southern US. It should come up the Mississippi valley and may reach as far north as Manitoba before it peters out. The winds will be bad, but the rain will be worse. Look at how thick those clouds are! With the record rains they've already had this summer in the Corn Belt there's going to be flooding for sure. It shouldn't affect us though." He tapped the screen over the northern cloud formation. "This is the puppy that's going to ruin my barbeque this weekend. Warm moist air in the Quebec system will result in heavy rains across Northern Ontario and Quebec when the cold air pushed over by Eunice hits it. Public Safety is predicting severe thunderstorms and heavy rains here on Monday. With the two storms, they expect washouts and power outages from Regina to Winnipeg and from Thunder Bay to Montreal."

"Good thing we're not going anywhere." Kain joked.

Bill looked at him seriously. He had graduated the class before Kain, but was much older than the young computer genius. "You don't get away much on the weekends do you Kain? You should. That's when all the young ladies are off work and on the ski hills, in the clubs and on the beaches."

Kain looked away, indicating his reluctance to open up on the subject of his love life. He took off his rimless glasses and pulled a polishing cloth from his pocket. He rubbed the lenses and steered the conversation away without shutting the Professor off completely. "We're always short on the weekends around here. Everybody is doing the work of two as it is. We need more people qualified to be DO. It comes around too often. When will the hiring freeze lift, you figure?"

"Soon, I hope." Bill sighed. "The only new personnel we have taken on in the last year is that guy Silver dragged back from Afghanistan."

"The sniper who was wounded in the shoulder and eye?" Kain inquired. "I haven't met him yet. What's his name?"

"Dongo Fett"

"He sounds like a character out of Star Wars." Kain chuckled

"He looks like one now too." Bill said seriously. "They replaced his left arm with a metallic one. A big shiny thing."

"That's not very subtle." Kain said, thinking of Vikki's lifelike prosthetic. "How do they intend to get him through airport security with that?"

"They don't." Bill said. "He's a heavy weapons specialist, so there's more metal in his gun than his arm. He has to be inserted covertly, by submarine or aircraft usually. The artificial arm helps steady the big gun though. They saved the eye but it's sensitive to light and weakens quickly. He wears an eye patch over it when he's not shooting."

"I heard that he has ... uh ... an extra appendage."

Bill, who had seen Dongo Fett's profile when he was admitted to the Academy, knew what Kain was alluding to.

"It's true. He has a double penis." He told Kain. "Our newest agent has two cocks, a silver arm and an eye-patch."

Kain thought of the current crop of agents at FOX. Silver, with his horrendous scars, shiny mane and unique grey-blue eyes. His lover Vikki, over six feet tall and stunningly beautiful with radiant red fur and a prosthetic paw. Marcel, the diminutive skateboarder with his street clothes, scowl, and a score of hidden knives. Marcel's girl Geno, the Polish cheetah who put the sex into sexy by wearing clothes with less material than the average Barbie doll outfit. And him, Kain Algorath, who at twenty four already had a bevy of his own scars from being impaled by most of the left side of a sixty-nine Firebird convertible.

"He should fit right in." Kain observed.

* * * * * * * *

The subject of their discussion was working that afternoon also, but in a more pleasant environment. He was lying on the six-hundred meter mark of the military shooting range in the west end of the city, enjoying the mild temperatures and the sun on what would probably be the last nice day for a while. Beside him, the Academy weapons specialist and combat instructor, the doberman Red 'Rusty' Nails, chewed tobacco and adjusted the joint on Dongo's artificial left arm.

"There." Rusty said as he put the screwdriver down. "Try that."

Dongo Fett pulled the heavy sniper rifle into his shoulder and lifted the patch off his right eye. Lining the target up with the cross hairs on the scope he tried a few cycles of deep breathing. The sights remained steady on the aim point. He shifted position, crawled backwards until he could just peak over the mound, moved forward until he had to lift the muzzle thirty degrees to keep it on target. Throughout it all the sights never wavered, thanks to a stabilizer built into his robotic arm. Wherever he aimed, the stabilizer would keep the weapon pointed there until he reset it, turned it off, or it ran out of power.

He took a shot, rolled two metres to one side and squeezed off another. He stood and pulled the trigger a third time. Then he put the stabilizer on 'standby', turned so the target was behind him out of sight, and walked five paces. He spun back around and re-engaged the stabilizer. It pulled his metal arm up and around faster than he could turn to follow it. He fired as soon as the rifle stopped moving, without looking. Rusty watched the target the whole time through a powerful spotting scope.

"The first three almost went through the same hole." He reported. The forth one was an inch to the left. Probably because the wind picked up at the end there. Not bad at all."

"An inch at six hundred is ten inches at two thousand." Dongo said, frowning. "That's enough to miss completely. We have to build in an override for windage."

"Hmmm. I could embed a wheel in the stock where your thumb rests and link it to the sights." The big dog mused. "I'll build a windage indicator inside the scope, but you'll have to remember to check it each time you fire."

"I'll remember." The taciturn fox replied. Looking at his ill-fitting clothes, his floppy hat, and his uncombed fur, one might think that he was a street person. It was true that he did not pay much attention to his appearance, but when it came to shooting he was meticulous in his habits. It was the only way to achieve the level of marksmanship necessary to snipe at the ranges he did.

"You know," Rusty mused, looking at the metal arm again, "The stabilizer fills the upper part of this contraption, but there's a lot of space still in the forearm. I could add a few things for close protection. A dart gun, a taser, or even a mini flame thrower."

Dongo had visions of the flamethrower going off while he was in the Academy washrooms. It was hard enough peeing in public when you had two cocks, he didn't need to be worrying about misfires at the same time.

"Let's get this one perfected before we start adding other stuff. Okay?"

Rusty tried not to look too disappointed. He glanced at his watch and sat up. "Almost supper time." He noted. "We can stay and eat in the army mess hall here or head back to the Academy. It will take me a couple of days to build the new sights so anything more here will just be for fun."

Dongo glanced at the sun, still about a couple of hours above the horizon in the western sky, and to the east, where the moon was already rising, completely full on this the second day of its three-day peak period of illumination.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to stay and see how it performs after dark."

"Mind?" The stub of Rusty's tail was wagging enthusiastically. He had already been divorced three times because his love of weapons exceeded his love for his mates. "I could stay out here all night!"

* * * * * * * *

That evening, Silver joined Vikki for supper in her off-campus apartment. Although he spent a lot of time there, he had not yet abandoned his suite at the Academy residence. The age difference between them and the low life expectancy of secret agents had kept him from making the final commitment and moving in with her and his son. Silver had told Vikki that she should take up with someone closer to her age, someone who would be around often enough and live long enough to be a real father to the kit. Vikki wondered if he really meant it though.

Having a child had been a new and wonderful experience for them. Vikki had named the kit Leslie Sterling Beausoleil. Silver shuddered at the name, but said that at least it was better than the one his parents, immigrants whose grip on English was not too firm, had burdened him with. Vikki, one of the three people still alive who knew his real name had to agree, anything was better than that.

Leslie was growing quickly and promised to be tall like his parents. His baby's blue eyes had darkened just a bit to match the grey-blue orbs of his father. He was still covered with baby fuzz, but his fur was coming in the same deep and vibrant red as his mother's. They would have to wait twenty years or so to see if he suffered from the same premature greyness that gave Silver his colouring. Vikki hoped that he didn't. The effect looked good on Silver's black coat, but would just make a red fox look older than it was.

Leslie didn't have to worry about it just yet though, as he had only recently celebrated his first birthday. Actually Silver, Tanner, Rusty, Joel, and Gus from the motor pool had celebrated in the living room with a case of beer while Leslie and several other toddlers from his day care ate a chocolate cake with their paws on the kitchen floor. Vikki and the other mothers, all employees of FOX, had watched the babies and occasionally glared at Silver and males. Afterward, Silver had cleaned the cake off the floor, cupboards, chairs, and windows while Vikki cleaned the chocolate off Leslie.

At one, Leslie could walk and talk, or rather, he could run and babble. Since learning to stand up on his own he had discovered the 'controlled fall' method of locomotion. He stumbled onward with his arms spread for balance, body forward as his legs struggled to keep up. If he was lucky he would connect with a piece of furniture before he connected with the floor. But if not, he would struggle to his feet and carry on with grim determination. Once he had reached his intended destination he would tell you why he had made the journey in the first place.

"Give book" was a common reason when he wanted a story, as was "Leslie, cookie" when he wanted a snack. But he was not a selfish kit, he believed in sharing. Leslie was just as likely to make the trip across the living room to bring you something as he was to get something from you. He used the same words to offer as he did to demand, with only his expression and the presence or absence of an article in his paw to indicate which.

Vikki was preparing supper in the kitchen. It was her turn to cook tonight, that meant that Silver would have to wash up. The kitchen was separated from the living room €" dining room by only an island counter, so she could watch as Silver entertained their son, although Leslie was doing all the work tonight. Wearing his one-piece 'Elmo' pyjamas complete with feet and a trapdoor under his tail for quick diaper access, the kit had industriously brought all of his favourite books to Silver, saying "Give book" each time. Now he was bringing Silver peanuts from a bowl on the coffee table one at a time. When he reached the couch he reached up and pressed the peanut to Silvers lips, saying "Leslie, cookie" to indicate that he was giving this delicious morsel for Silver to eat.

"It's a peanut Leslie." Silver said after swallowing. "Say, 'have a peanut, father'."

Leslie ignored him and went back for another peanut.

"He's too young to talk like that." Vikki told him from the kitchen. "You should keep it simple. 'Leslie, peanut' kind of thing."

"If you talk to him like a baby he'll learn to talk like a baby." Silver retorted. "I was reading up on it. Now is the perfect age for him to form proper grammatical patterns and to learn new languages too. C'est correct mon p'tit?" He asked Leslie as another peanut was forced into his mouth.

"Leslie, cookie." And the kit was off again.

"Thank you for the peanut, Leslie." He called after him.

"You stick to your theories and I'll stick to mine." Vikki told him as she brought the dishes to the table. "And stop eating peanuts. You'll ruin your appetite."

"Yes Mother."

"Leslie, cookie."

"Sorry Leslie. Mother has vetoed the pre-dinner appetizers." Silver fended off the peanut. Leslie had already been feed, and it was getting late, so Silver picked him up and headed toward the nursery with him. "Let's put you in your crib with your toys."

When he returned the table was set and dinner was ready. Vikki noted that he seemed distracted and had a little vertical line between his eyes. That meant he was either worried, mad or in pain. Since he seemed happy enough while playing with Leslie and had not done anything to get hurt lately, Vikki guessed that he was worried about something. Whatever it was, he would talk about it when he was ready, if he was allowed to. As the sole senior agent at the Academy he knew things that the junior agents and analysts were not allowed to know.

"Busy day?" He asked.

"Thrilling."

"How's Marcel's driving coming along?"

"You would be proud of him." Vikki said, tongue in cheek. She knew that Silver had written off more vehicles than GM through aggressive driving; although to be fair half of them were sabotaged. She decided not to mention the suicidal driving lesson, or how it had ended. She had to climb over the transmission hump to get into the driver's seat and get them out of there before anyone saw Marcel and Geno doing some humping of their own. She would save that story for when he asked about the hole in the dashboard. "How was your day."

"Nothing exciting." She saw the line between his eyes deepen. She was getting good enough at reading body language now to know that he was keeping something from her. She opened her mouth to ask him what it was but before she spoke a pair of fuzzy red ears and two grey-blue eyes appeared over the edge of the table.

"Ma-ma?"

In Leslie-speak that meant, "Hey mom, why did you go leave me alone?" or "Why do look so tired mother?" or "Where did hide my mother, you bastard?" if said to someone else.

"Hey, what are you doing out of bed?" Silver picked the kit up and put him on his knee. "Or rather, how did you get out of bed?"

"It's a new talent." Vikki answered on Leslie's behalf. "He's gotten tall enough and strong enough to climb out of the crib and swing down to the ground. The first time he did it I was in the bathroom when he popped up in front of me. I was so startled; it was a good thing that I was on the toilet already. We have to lower the mattress a couple of settings if we want him to stay in." The crib was the latest design from Italy, very safe and very adjustable. Silver had brought it back after tracking down and killing an explosives expert in Rome who had been selling his talents to the highest bidder. "I should have told you before you put him in. Sorry."

"That's okay. He's probably going to be quite a climber if he's anything like me." Silver said proudly.

"And just as modest too." Vikki added, but Silver didn't catch the sarcasm.

She went to give Leslie a bath while Silver cleaned up in the kitchen. She had no problem holding the squirming kit with her robotic paw, it had been waterproofed for field work. But she got so wet in the process that she changed into her bathrobe afterwards, dropping her clothes in the hamper. By the time they were both done Leslie's eyes were half closed and he was starting to nod off.

"You want me to adjust the crib before you put him down?" Silver asked her.

"No. He'll sleep most of the night unless something disturbs him." She answered. "If he gets out he'll come straight to the bedroom looking for me, but make sure you put the chain on the door just in case." She had heard of children wandering out of their homes in the night, never to be seen again, and the thought sent a slight chill up her spine. She picked Leslie up, leaned over with him so Silver could kiss him goodnight, and carried him to the nursery.

When she got back the door was locked and chained and the lights were off, except for the one in the main bedroom. She could see Silver moving around in there. He was turning off the main lights, just leaving a bedside lamp burning.

She walked over to the bed and pulled her robe off, hanging it on a chair kept beside the bed for that purpose, so she could find it when Leslie cried in the middle of the night. She removed the bionic paw from her left arm and put it on a Japanese sword stand she kept on her night table. There was another chair on Silver's side of the bed and he folded his clothes neatly before putting them on it.

Silver switched off all the lights before coming to bed. That was odd, Vikki thought. She knew that before he met her he liked to keep his shirt on during sex, and kept the room dark, because of the disfiguring wounds and the way he had suffered. But he had lost his phobia about the scars on his chest and back after their first time together. Now he liked to make love naked in the light, and would leave the bedside lamp on, or light a few candles. He said that he loved the feel of her lips on his chest, of her claws running through the fur on his back, and that he wanted to see the expression on her face after she came.

The room was totally dark and her eyes had not had time to adjust, so she felt rather than saw him lay down beside her. She could sense that he was very close, and she was not surprised when his lips brushed hers and the tips of digits drifted over the soft downy fur of one breast. Silver had uncanny night vision. The result of having eyes too close together, he claimed. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

Silver explored her with his paws. He had always been good with them, but tonight all his attention was concentrated on the tips of his digits. With no visual clues to guide him, he relied on the vibrations from her skin to tell him how he was doing. Like many a blind musician, he was proving to be a virtuoso.

Her skin twitched and her muscles jumped as Silver's digits roamed about her. Some caresses brought moans of pleasure, others gasps of delight. A few even elicited giggles and a half-hearted slap, they tickled so. Silver noted them all before starting to play a symphony on her.

Slowly here, quickly there, his paws moved from one sensitive spot to another. Just when she could not hold the laughter back from his tickling he would shift to a spot that sent bolts of lightning up her spine, and ignited sparks down below. A comforting caress changed into an erotic stoke. A cuddle became a passionate embrace. The boundary between love and lust became thinner.

Vikki was kissing his face hard now, when she could. He was dipping his head down to suck the tender flesh where her neck joined her shoulder. Occasionally his mouth would brush one of her erect nipples, almost accidently, and she thrust them toward him, unconsciously begging him to draw them in and suck on them. Down below his paw strayed close to the junction of her legs, but not where she wanted it. It traced the line between thigh and abdomen, sending shivers through her. Its mate found the tender triangle of flesh just above her tail, and dug in, making her arch her back involuntarily.

She reached for his penis, but her right arm was under her and it was awkward. The foreshortened left arm would not reach, but she could rub his flank with it. His lips were all over her now, kissing the tops of her breasts, nipping the outside of her thigh, licking her navel. He took the stump of her left arm and trailed his lips down to the end, planting a kiss there. Then he did the same to her whole right arm, pausing to suck on one of her digits. His head was getting lower, harder to hold on to, and his paw was drawing closer to the source of her heat.

Silver shifted around until he was on his knees beside her. One paw continued to play on her upper half while the other gently forced her legs apart. She could feel the cool night air on her gap, but he had yet to touch it. His tongue danced closer, closer. His paw traced a line from her ankle to the top of her inner thigh. Vikki wanted to scream.

There! One digit drifted along the length of her slit just as his tongue found the hiding place of her clitoris. She was already moist, and the contact made her wetter still. His digit entered her with ease as he lapped and licked at her hardening clit. The tip of his middle digit found the sensitive spot inside, and her juices dripped down between her buttocks. His pinkie found them and rubbed them into her anus, pressing just hard enough to tease the sensitive skin there without penetrating.

She threw her head back and let the sensations rule. With her eyes closed she seemed to have more awareness and her right paw came up and gripped his erect cock without guidance. It was moist too, already leaking pre-cum as it twitched in mid-air. She stroked it lazily, working the fluid in as it grew longer and harder.

When she was almost ready to come, and sensed that he was too, he pulled back away from her. At the same time he rolled her and pulled her hips up until she was on her knees. Her head was turned sideways, her shoulders were on the mattress and her tail was high in the air. He moved in behind her and she felt the head of his cock pressing at her entrance. She pressed back, and when it popped inside she sighed.

Silver shuffled forward until she could feel his balls against her. He pulled back, and his cock pulled her inner lips out as it withdrew. She leaded forward, and they both stopped just as the tip of his prick was about to leave her. Moving in synchronization they came back together, hard, and his balls slapped her clit. She felt his left paw on her ass, spreading it to maximize the contact. His right paw reached around, caressing her clit in tiny circles.

Her arms were up beside her shoulders, but she reached back with her right paw and took his testicles in it. As they rocked back and forth, separating and reconnecting in perfect harmony, she rubbed then against each other, squeezed them, and cuddled them. Now she was as attuned to the darkness as he was, and as they started moving faster against each other she could sense the tension growing in his balls. Reaching father back she could feel the tension in his muscles as he fought to hold on.

They were slamming against each other almost brutally now, and quite audibly. The smack of wet ass fur on wet groin fur was only rivalled by their gasps and groans. Silver's digit moved harder and deeper against her clit, and he placed his thumb on her tailhole, rubbing it in small circles too. It was too much for her, and she felt her insides melt. At the same time she used the muscles inside her to squeeze the head of his cock, to massage it rhythmically. She felt the cum shoot out of his balls before he knew he was having an orgasm.

They came together, or at least close enough not to matter who came first. The hot fluids that washed over his thighs were matched by the burning liquid he deposited deep inside her. They stayed like that, his hips pressed firmly against her ass, frozen in mid climax, for quite some time. Neither breathing, neither moving, both vibrating at a frequency immeasurable by ordinary instruments; transcending time.

They slowly collapsed to lie side by side on the bed. Silver was behind her with his chest against her back, his arms around her, his paws between her breasts. His legs were tucked up behind hers, and his swollen cock was still inside her. Vikki sighed in contentment, put her paw on top of his and gave it a squeeze. It was a cozy and comfortable position. She could lie like this forever and never have to move again.

A soft sound nearby made her eyes fly open. There, staring at her over the edge of the bed, a pair of familiar grey-blue orbs.

"Ma-ma?"

* * * * * * * *

Silver went to adjust the crib while Vikki rocked their son back to sleep. He had a stashed a box of common tools in her apartment so he could fulfil his traditional male role as 'fixer of things' and he had all of the screwdrivers and wrenches he needed for the job. Still naked, and working by feel in the dark, he quickly stripped the crib and began lowering the platform the mattress would rest on. While he worked he wondered if it was the sounds of their lovemaking that had woken the kit, and how long he had been in the room. Had he seen what they were doing? Would he remember? Would he be traumatized? Would he be disappointed to discover that sex didn't get that good until you practiced it for a while, or elated to discover something that started off great and just kept getting better?

While he worked he heard a steady 'beep-beep-beep' coming from the bedroom. It was his pager. The tone was different from Vikki's, to prevent confusion, and the pattern indicated that an immediate response was required. He debated leaving the crib half done but decided that he could afford the five minutes it would take to finish adjusting the platform. Vikki could put the mattress and bedding back on herself. He called to Vikki to shut off the alarm on the pager and continued working.

He joined Vikki and Leslie, who was awake again because of the beeping, in the bedroom and checked the pager. The Chief of staff, identified by his codename Gold, wanted him in his office right away. Silver dressed quickly, wondering what could have come up at this time of night. He kissed Vikki and Leslie goodbye, apologising for having to leave on short notice.

When he got back to the Academy he went immediately to the headquarters and straight to Tanner's office. Tanner was used to him showing up with the scent of the bedroom still on him. Tanner's door was open and he walked in, sat down and waited for his friend and supervisor to explain why he had called him here.

Tanner was listening to someone on the phone and he waved at Silver to wait a moment.

"I understand ma'am." He said into the phone. "Yes. Of course. I'll put our best agent onto it. You have my word Minister, nothing will interfere with the inauguration. Good night to you too." Tanner hung up with a sigh and stared off into space for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

Silver had not seen much of his friend lately. As Chief of Staff Tanner was the Director's right paw and acted in his stead when the Sir Wilbur was away or otherwise engaged. For the past several weeks W had been conspicuously absent from the Academy, and Tanner had taken on all of his responsibilities. The large golden fox was looking tired and haggard tonight

"That was the Minister of Public Safety." Tanner explained. "She is the third Cabinet Minister to call me tonight, and she is also our boss. Something has come up suddenly and it is very important. I need you to drop everything, grab your gear and get over to the airport. You have to be in Manitoba tomorrow morning."

Silver glanced at Tanner's overburdened 'In' basket. His medical report would be buried in there somewhere, if Doctor Jones had even had time to file it. Silver could listen to the mission briefing, get on the plane, and maybe whatever this was all about would be resolved before Tanner even knew that Silver had been to see the doctor. But what if it isn't, he wondered, what if he had another attack as bad as or worse than the last one? He looked back at Tanner's expectant expression, into his unsuspecting golden eyes.

"Tancred." Silver began, using Tanner's real name as he did in serious circumstances. "I have something to tell you."

* * * * * * * *

Silver's pager going off had woken Leslie and it had taken nearly half an hour to get him back to sleep. Now as she left the nursery Vikki could hear her pager going off on the kitchen counter where she had left it. She ran to shut it off before it woke the baby, but the darkness and a misplaced teething ring foiled her plan. She connected with the counter while still airborne, arms flailing for balance, which sent the pager, her car keys, and a plastic 'Big Fella' sipping cup crashing to the floor. Leslie's cries followed immediately after.

Cursing under her breath Vikki retrieved the pager, keys, and cup, before kicking the teething ring under the fridge. She strode back to the nursery fuming while entering her code to display the message on the pager. What she read made her freeze in mid-step at the entrance to Leslie's room.

"Come to FOX as soon as you can." It said. "Be prepared to travel." There was more. She scrolled to show the last of the message while Leslie cried for her to pick him up. "You will be gone for several days. Find a sitter for your son."