FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Crowing", in long view By Socks (on commission) (C) 2016 Socks Furrotica

Kit pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and tapped the screen. "Relax, Boss." The grey fox morph looked at his anthro doberman bodyguard and tried to take in a deep breath. "Look, it's outta your hands. Just let it happen."

"Yeah, that's the problem." Kit said "Too many loose ends. I don't like it."

"What's the worst that can happen?" Butch asked, lifting his beer to his muzzle.

"A few hundred thou gone and lifetime in prison." Kit said. "That's best case. Worst case is depending on what's in that damn box."

"You got your best on it, right?"

"I hope so." Kit said, putting the phone into his jacket pocket. "Either way, easy on the beer, we may need to move fast." Butch just nodded, enjoying another swill.

Mouse stalked through the alleyway of the dockyards, looking up at the buildings cautiously. "No cameras, no cameras, broken cameras, no cameras" he sung in his high pitched voice quietly to himself. "OH! Guard-guard!" He took cover behind a crate, letting his grey fur blend him into the urban shadows. He pulled the needler out of it's holster, and took aim. "Twinkle twinkle little... skunk..." he mumbled to himself in concentration. He squeezed the trigger, and watched the guard wince in pain while grabbing his hip, then slowly collapse. "How I wonder if you're drunk?" laughed to himself as he reholstered the weapon under his hoodie. He had half an hour before that guard would wake up, hopefully it would be enough.

"Curiouser and curiouser...." Mouse mumbled as he looked at the building number. He took a small power screwdriver out of his hoodie pocket and unscrewed the vent cover. He quickly squeezed into the vent, pulled the cover in behind him, and retained it with a rubber band to hold it tight. After belly crawling for several minutes, he pushed on a grate inside the building. His optics flared on, sweeping for infrared. Nothing. His optics did ping a number on one crate. MTI 92167784, his target. "Joyous day!" he whispered to himself with some glee.

Mouse lightly tip toed to the box and blew the dust off the e-lock. "Will the friendly doorknob let me in?" He knelt down, swinging his backpack around. "No backtalk you! I simply must get outside!" Mouse quickly pulled out his phone, and wired it to the crate's security panel. "Crickity crack crikity crack!" He tapped his furry fingers on the screen, and data poured down his screen. He looked around nervously, listening for the slightest sound. "come on... come on... will you won't you will you won't you will you won't you...." A passcode flashed green, and the panel blinked three times. Mouse smiled. "Won't you join the dance!" The side opened for him, and he quickly found the boxes he was sent for. "Must go must go!"

Mouse retraced his steps, being cautious of the dust by the vent opening. And with a silent turn of the screws, he covered his tracks as he quickly made his way off the compound He slung the backpack over his shoulders, and walked the long route outside, and made sure he wasn't being followed by security. Eventually he made his way to the rendezvous point where he saw several cars. One had a human with a Hawaiian shirt in the driver's seat. Mouse smiled to himself. Almost clear.

A rail-thin man ran up to Mouse. Mouse covered up. "Please! Mouse not want trouble! Mouse just..."

"you have it?" the thin man demanded.

"Mouse has." Mouse unslung his backpack, and looked at the straps to make sure he had a good grip. He didn't feel the hit, nor the impact on the sidewalk.

*Fuck.* Banjo watched helplessly on the multi-monitor rig he had built in virtual space. *Fucking hell. Fuckitty Fucking FUCK*

Ed quickly scooped up the backpack, and ran for the car. "DRIVE!"

Banjo scanned the other monitors and saw MTI security was just starting to explode in red alert icons. He tried calling the contact number for the wheelman, no connection. Banjo quickly manipulated a script, and fired it onto the monitor as he watched the human's car drive on the half-working traffic camera.

"Medic report : Diagnosis, mild concussion. Possible bleeding from head wound. Medical attention requested." Mouse could see the readout from his optics. Without moving, he accessed his wet-drive and found he had been out for several minutes. He cursed himself for letting his eyes off the thin man. Then his audio picked up two somewhat muffled voices talking near him, the words "question" and "break in" were flagged. Mouse prepared for the worst. He turned his optics back to normal, and tried to roll over.

"uuuhhhhh..." Mouse slowly opened his eyes.

"He's still alive." one voice said.

"wh... wh..." Mouse's eyes opened up fully, and he now could see two men in full ceramic plate armor, carrying what looked like assault rifles. He couldn't see their faces through the armor, but the logos on the chest read MTI. "n.. no no no no! Dun hurt Mouse! Mouse won't tell! Mouse promise!" He squeaked in a high pitched, almost panicked voice. Mouse tried to shuffle backwards, but he couldn't do more than scramble in place.

"Easy buddy, easy." the second voice said. "Who did this to you?"

Mouse was panting hard, his heart racing. "who... who... M.... m... sh... shh.. shadows... shadows..." Mouse said meekly, cowering backwards as he did.

"Fuck." the second voice said. He tapped his wrist, and then looked back at Mouse. "You, get out of here."

"You're gonna let him go?" the first asked. "For all we know he did this!" Mouse was shaking, still trying to shuffle backwards.

"This guy's a regular. I've seen him here before." the second said. "They come on winter nights to sleep near the heating vent."

"With a full sculpt job?"

The second man sighed. "I'll tell you about cyberpsychosis later." The second guard turned to Mouse. "Get outta here, put something on that cut."

"Y... yes sir. Thank you sir. You'll never see Mouse again Sir." Mouse slowly got to his feet.

"Yeah I will." the second guard said mockingly. "Now go."

"Yes sir!" Mouse stood up on wobbly legs, and stumbled off as best he could. The world was spinning, but stopping wasn't an option. He had to call fox, he had to get to safety. If MTI had the heavy armor out this wasn't a good place to stop. Mouse stumbled down the street until he got his bearings, and then started twords downtown.

Kit tapped a claw on the table as he held his phone up to the side of his head. "Ok, ok.... You've got eyes?" Kit closed his eyes and growled slightly. "Do what you can. If it gets too hot and you need to pull, pull. Got it?" Kit looked up around the bar. "Ok, keep me in." Kit tapped his phone, then started dialing again.

"What?" Butch put down his bottle of beer.

"That was Banjo." Kit said, tapping the screen quickly. "Apparently, our lookouts were only looking out for themselves."

"Damn, dude." Butch said. "Do I get to kick their asses?"

"If we can get to them before MTI does." Kit snarled at the phone. "And now Mouse is down."

"Should we go look for him?" Butch asked, putting his empty beer down.

"We'll never find him." Kit said. "There's a reason I hire him. If he's alive we'll know." Kit gritted his muzzle. "This is gonna suck." He slammed down the rest of his own beer. "We should move, just in case. I want to call in an expert."

The phone rang for the fifth time. Mauzer picked it up "This better be good or fast."

"Both." Kit said. "I need you for something right now."

"you know I can't just drop everything when shit hits the fan." Mauzer said, sounding slightly annoyed.

"I don't know anyone else who can do it." Kit said. "Your'e the best."

"WAS. I keep telling you I don't do that anymore."

Kit sighed heavily. "I'll pay handsomely."

"I don't need the money." Mauzer said.

"How about a pair of balcony tickets for CFS Orchestra's Christmas show with a limo to and from the event and all expense paid dinner for two at Le Paris Bistrot?"

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. "Throw in a tuxedo and a dress and it's a deal."

"Done."

"So what am I doing?"

Banjo was struggling with his interface. Suddenly, a ghostly apparition appeared next to him. "Oh thank GOD you're here." Banjo said with some exhaustion. "I can't keep up! MTI is swarming the city right now and I can't keep everything pinged."

"Stay on the car." Mauzer said. "I've got MTI."

"Ok, pull up a chair and..." The apparition vanished. "...or just leave, that's cool too..." Banjo closed his other monitors, and focused on the traffic cameras.

Mouse slumped in an alleyway, hiding behind a dumpster. He scanned for heat signatures, and minus the rats there weren't any. He reached into his hoodie pocket, and pulled out a phone. He tapped the power button, and hit dial.

It barely rang once. "Mouse? You're alive?"

"Yes." Mouse said weakly. "Bleeding... A little dizzy."

"Where are you, we'll come get you."

"No, Mouse is fine." He looked around. "Mouse knows where Mouse can get help. Find the Monstrous Crow! Black as a tar barrel, forget how to quarrel..."

"Mouse? Where are you? We'll come get you."

"Frighten heroes... find Crow."

"MOUSE!" The phone went dead. Kit tried to dial it back with no answer. "God dammit Mouse! Pick up!" Kit let the phone ring, but there was no answer. "Dammit Mouse..."

"Can Banjo trace the position?" Butch asked.

"If he does he can't trace the car. And Mauz has his paws full." Kit tapped the phone against his thigh as the car rolled along. He then tapped the screen. "Banjo, where are we going?"

"Northside. I'm still trying to find the car, I lost it in downtown traffic."

"4th and Seaside." Mauzer's voice interrupted. "MTI just got a ping from the package. Whatever you found must be worth two helicopters and three vans of heavy armor rolling."

"Heavy Armor?!?" Banjo yelped. "What the fuck?!?"

"Get your cameras over there." Mauzer said.

"Can you stall MTI?" Kit asked

"Not on this rig. Be impressed I'm ghosting MTI."

"The cameras all went dark!" Banjo exclaimed "How in the fuck did every camera in three blocks go dark?"

"Unplug and MOVE YOUR MEAT!"

"What?"

"Just trust me! Unplug and move! That's an order!"

"Gone." Banjo's signal disappeared.

"I don't know if you two are even thinking about going there, don't. That's a black op move. Don't even go Northside." Kit looked at Butch, who just nodded. "I can't help any further, not on this rig."

Kit sighed loudly. "alright, thank you then." he said with some annoyance.

"allright, I get it." Muazer said. "Hang on a sec." The phone muted.

Butch stopped at a red light. "So what do you want to do, boss?"

"I don't know." Kit said. He took in a deep breath. "Actually, I do know. Let's head over to Tickers, get some beers we'll do this old school."

"I like this plan!" Butch said

Kit's phone crackled back to life. "If you get an SMS from a 555 area code, take it. I did a little something that MIGHT help. Don't ask. I'll follow up tomorrow when I can. Right now tho, M'Lady is *ahem* waiting for me and she doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Kit shook his head. "I get that. I'll work out details later with ya." The phone hung up, and Kit started dialing. "Clipper? It's Kit. Yeah, I'm putting a word out. I need to find these two guys. They have something of mine...."

Sting heard a groan behind him. He turned around to look at his friend. "Welcome back to the real world. We were about to divvy up your shit." he said sarcastically.

Banjo weakly grabbed the plugs on his wrist and pulled. He put his hands on his face, and rubbed it with an exasperated groan. "Faaahhhhhk." He spun sideways to sit on the edge of the ratty old interface chair. He looked around to the familiar confines of "the Hive", a couple other plugheads he knew on other couches, old PC's running games, bikes and skateboards parked on the wall, the faint glow of dim overhead lights, the darkness was still stinging his eyes.

"Everything ok?" Sting actually turned around from his screen.

"Yeah." Banjo said, not really sounding convincing. "I just gotta stop."

"Need a C-Gel?" Banjo nodded, and his friend threw him a spare.

"What time is it?" Banjo asked.

"5 AM." Sting said, returning to his game.

"Fahhk me." Banjo said. "Nine fucking hours in the 'face?"

"Dude, you know that..."

"I know, I know, I know..." Banjo said. "This was important." He ripped the top off the gel pack and slurped it down in one gulp. "I should head home."

"Not like that." Banjo made a move to get up, but fell back into the couch. "Dude, just fuckin' crash in the back, grab a shower can when ya get up, we know you're good. You're in no shape to go home."

Banjo cautiously stood up. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Good plan." He stumbled to his friend and patted him on the shoulder. "I owe ya a gel." His friend just nodded as Banjo stumbled into the "crash pit" in the back. Once there, he sent out a text before turning his phone off.

Kit's phone chirped. He clenched his muzzle as he read it, but sent a reply back. He turned to where Butch was sleeping, and shook his head. It was almost dawn. "dammit." he said to himself. He curled up on the couch, rolling his tail around himself as he let himself finally sleep.

Butch woke up to a knock at his door. He grabbed his pistol, and quietly approached it to look through the hole. On the other side looked to be only a homeless guy, with large ears. He opened he door "Mouse?"

"Can Mouse come in?"

"yeah!" Butch holstered his gun in his belt line, ushering Mouse into the apartment. "Why did you come here?"

"Mouse was closer to here than Kit's." Mouse pulled his hoodie off of his head. "Is Foxie here?"

"He's sleeping on the holy shit you ok?" Butch reached for Mouse's chin, inspecting the dried blood in his fur.

"Mouse is fine. Mouse knows people who are fast, but not clean." Mouse looked at the couch, and saw Kit sleeping. "Can Mouse get clean here?"

"Yeah, umm, I'll grab ya a towel." Mouse nodded, and went to the small washroom.

Kit woke up to his phone chirping. Several messages from people having seen a Hawaiian shirted man driving a car all over the place, and one photo of the getaway car parked in the Northside quarantine zone. "they could be anywhere."

"Who could?"

Kit looked over his shoulder with a surprised smile "Mouse?!? You're ok!"

"Mouse is ok." Mouse ate another spoon full of dry cereal. "Butch gave Mouse clean towel and food, Mouse is ok." He was wearing only a towel around his waist. Butch shrugged with a half smirk. "Who could be anywhere?"

"The two that you were supposed to meet." Kit got off the couch to hug Mouse. "I'm so happy you're ok. You scared the hell out of us yesterday."

"It's no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then. " Mouse said, taking another spoon full of cereal. "Mouse is sorry, Mouse made a mistake, eyes off of Tweedledee and Tweedledum."

"I'm sorry they did that to you." Kit said gently. "But you're ok. That's important to me."

Mouse nodded sadly. "If it helps, Mouse could probably get back in..."

"Not with MTI on high alert." Butch said. "And the entire Northside was quarantined, so whatever was in there has all the hackles up."

Kit's phone rang. He raised a finger to excuse himself, and went into Butch's bedroom and hit the green icon. "Yah?"

"Hey man! I'm lookin' for a KIT?" the voice was very laid back.

"A kit?"

"I got this number from a friend of Clipper, said you need to find a Hawaiian?"

"You might be on the right track then." Kit said. "What can I do for you Mister...?"

"Oh hey man! I'm Disco. I'm in the trade out here in Vegas. I might be able to help ya out."

"What do you want from me then?" Kit asked.

"Just a connection out there in Cali Free. It's good to know people and be friendly, Man."

"I'm listening." Kit said.

A few minutes later, Kit came out of the bedroom shaking his head. "They were making a run for Vegas, apparently."

"AT NIGHT?" Butch asked. "Wow, they're insane!"

"Or desperate." Kit said. "Yeah that was a guy in Vegas they contacted to fence the box. He was all for it 'till he heard of the quarantine here and word got out there I was looking for Joe, so he put it together. So it's possible that the box is still live. We might be able to get it."

Butch crossed his arms. "There's no way. That would be impossible."

"Not impossible." Mouse said. "Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast." He took a large spoonful to make his point.

"For starters we have no idea where it might be, or even how far into the desert it is." Butch said, pacing in the small kitchen "Or if it's even IN the desert! And even if we did know where it was you and what army will go GET it?"

Kit let out a long sigh. "I don't like the idea of kissing that much money goodbye." He shook his head a little. "I guess tho. I mean the word is out, if they're alive and show back up..."

"I'll chew 'em up like rawhide." Butch said.

Kit nodded, looking at the table. "I gotta make a call later, I've gotta make someone very upset."

Epilogue

Kit walked into the bar, looking around. The message was right, he couldn't miss the client. Bright red, blue, and green plumage on a larger framed body, wearing only a tasteful vest. A very impressive sculpt job. Kit padded over and stood next to the table. "Patrico?" The large parrot morph looked up, and nodded. "A pleasure to meet you, I'm Kit, I brought your translator."

The parrot morph moved his head side to side, obviously happy. Kit removed the device from his jacket pocket, and showed it to Patrico. "It fits like a long bracelet and it'll plug into standard hardware. It should fit over your feathers, and it has some adjustment room." Patricio fitted the arm gauntlet over the feathers on his forearm, and plugged the box on it into his wrist plugs. The box lit up, the test screen flashing twice before displaying a ready screen. "It should interface like normal." the grey fox said. "It should self-format for your particular pattern in a moment."

"test test test... Yes, there it goes." the box spoke as Patricio nodded his head in approval. "Oh, that's good. Nice and intuitive. And it's not just English?"

"It's also programmed for Spanish and Portuguese, as you requested." the fox said smoothly. "I also have your shoes too." He casually placed what looked like a bundle of credit cards on the table. "New sin, new ID, new everything."

"Perfect." Patricio reached to a pocket inside the vest he was wearing, and pulled out a billfold of papercash. "This should cover everything, and then some for the rush."

The fox fanned his thumb over the bills and smiled as he placed them inside his jacket pocket. "If I may ask? How did you find me? I didn't think I was known well outside of the city."

"A little birdy told me." Patricio's box said. He then cawed out what sounded like muffled laughter out of his beak. The fox smirked, and shook his head. "But I need to be on my way then."

The fox nodded. "If you need anything, you have my number." Patricio nodded, and got up from the table. He walked through the bar with purpose, making his way to the exit. Kit waited a minute, and then left as well. He walked straight over to the running car, and got into the passenger side. "Ok, next stop."

"Did you count it?" Butch asked.

"It's close enough to be right." Kit said. It's not good to count that much in the open anyway." Kit's cell phone chirped. He looked down to see the number was a 555 area code. "That's weird..." He tapped the screen and read it. He then looked at the attached images. The first was of himself with Patrico. The second was a car highlighted with the licence plate enhanced. The third was the parrot morph getting into that car. Kit dropped his paws into his lap.

"What?"

"you... didn't happen to see where that parrot went, did you?" Kit asked.

"He got in a grey crowder and drove off. Why?"

"Mother... Fucker...." Kit bit his lower lip gently. "Keep driving, I need to make some calls...."