FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Ok, an update to my Operation Moareu story. I'd been kicking it around for a while, and I finally came up with something. It was too big to post in the same format of four chapters as previous, so here it is in one big, happy lump. As usual, please rate, comment, blah blah blah. Yes.. I know... I'm asking for it! I also know that there's a strange lack of memetical references in this story. Let's just say, I couldn't squeeze any in.

. Chapter nine .

"Attention all frequencies," Lou began. "Model UH-99, unknown transponder. Code Blackfoot two seven niner. Requesting assistance."

A bright beam of white stabbed across the night, lighting up the skids and washing out the colour on the side of the Huey. A series of loud pops shook the furries' craft. "Shit! Lou! We got company! Right! Break right! Break right!!!" Cain shouted.

Lou neatly placed the UH in a steep bank, barely avoiding the unguided, ballistic, anti-tank rocket fired by the other aircraft. "Repeat, Urchin Horse Niner Niner. Code Blackfoot two seven niner, requesting assistance. Being pursued by unknown heavy helicopter. Taking fire." Lou began a series of apparently random maneuvers to keep from lining up in the other pilot's cross-hairs again.

"I can't get a good shot!" complained Cain almost immediately.

"What do you want me to do? Sit still? We'll be good as dead!" Lou yelled back, banking left and diving slightly as another rocket sailed wide and right and high.

"Aww fuck it," Cain muttered and slipped a restraining harness over his shoulder. A quick flip of a lever unlocked the fifty-caliber. Stepping out onto the chopper's skids, he lifted the rifle from the mount and leaned out into space, sliding his other arm along the harness until the loop caught at his wrist. Holding the pistol grip tightly, he socketed the butt end against his shoulder and squeezed the trigger. The heavy caliber automatic rifle roared, vomiting red meteor streaks toward the other helicopter, neon bright against the dark desert floor below.

The HLF chopper's searchlight winked out in a shower of sparks, blinded by the thundering demon in Cain's fore-hoof. With the main distraction eliminated, Cain's eye quickly adjusted to the moonlight, just in time to see the tell-tale orange flash of a rocket engine igniting. "Break left!" Cain yelled, squeezing off another burst. The stream of small-arms fire arced wide as Lou jinked around, avoiding another rocket. "Lou! Face me at him. Give him a broad side to shoot at!" Cain called into the microphone.

"What? Have you lost your bloody mind?"

"Just do it! And when I call for you to move, fucking move!"

"We don't have the fuel for this shit," Lou muttered, but pitched the craft's tail sharply down, braking hard, then turned spun on the center axis, presenting the full side profile to the oncoming aircraft. Cain snapped the rifle up, supporting it properly and dropped to one knee. He took a moment to lift his eye patch and touched a small stud along the outer rim of his artificial eye. A barely perceptible electronic whine passed up the frequencies before fading into inaudibility. The night was dark, but to Cain, it was all lit up. Peering through the sights, he out a single green fuzzy blob in the center of the windscreen before opening fire. "Die you motherfucker!!!" Cain screamed into the night.

Slowly the hail of leaden fire arced up into the blackness. The tracers flared bright stars against the windshield before fizzing out. Cain saw the green, ghostly outline of the pilot put his arms up in a defensive posture as the glass spider-webbed under the assault. With no hands on the controls, the chopper veered slightly, re-centering Cain's point of fire on the aircraft's hull near the engine compartment. The automatic made short work of the thin metal skin, and thick smoke poured out of the helicopter's engine port as the rifle's bolt locked back, empty.

The pilot grabbed the stick again and fought it for a moment, re-centering on its target. Cain dropped the rifle to the deck, not caring as it slid out the door. He pulled his pistol in one smooth motion, brought it to bear and fired a single shot. "Down, Lou, DOWN!" he screamed. Cain's stomach nearly hit his throat as Lou trimmed the main rotor, sending the chopper down forty feet.

The windshield, already weakened, stood no chance against the single, armor piercing bullet. The pilot's head snapped back, his arm jerking its last, pulling the stick toward his body. The fingers clenched, firing the last missile before craft fell, tail first, toward the earth.

"Hell yeah, now that's how the fuck you do that!" Cain exclaimed, holstering his weapon and shutting off his night-vision. Lou resumed his course, headed toward the nearby military base as Cain flopped down into the co-pilot's chair.

"Attention unidentified aircraft, you are occupying a restricted air-space," a voice crackled over the headset. "Identify or be shot down."

"Finally!" Lou exclaimed. "Control, code Blackfoot, two, seven, niner. No privacy. Damaged but serviceable."

There was a slight pause before the tower spoke back. "Acknowledged, Blackfoot. Come to course one three five, deck five hundred. Principal is asking about the run team."

"Roger, Control. Course one three five, deck five hundred," Lou returned. "Run team has one coach, one runner. Notify principal that the race was rigged." Lou keyed a couple of instruments and brought the wounded craft to its new heading while Cain strapped in.

"Well, that was fun," Cain said with a smirk.

"What in the bloody fuck were you thinking, Cain?" Lou shouted over the intercom.

"Saving our fuzzy asses, that's what. Look, I didn't sign up for this shit-fest, remember?"

"No, you did sign up for it when you joined the organization," Lou returned.

"Stow it, Lou. I retired, remember? Besides, this shit isn't my fault this time."

"What do you mean?"

"We were set up."

"What?"

"Yeah, that's what I thought too. Just ... not so politely."

"Attention, Blackfoot. Your course is deviating," warned the tower.

Lou hastily corrected course. "Acknowledged, control. Craft stability failing. LZ ETA?" he asked. The tower spat back some numbers. "Look, it's taking all I have to keep this brick in the air, Cain. Brief me on the ground, OK?"

Cain nodded and settled back, lost in thought for the remainder of the short flight. Images of the calico's horror twisted human face kept flashing across his mind's eye. He'd seen much worse, even done much worse,but, at the same time, what he'd seen and done didn't even come close. He didn't have much time for reflection though as the craft began to buck and shimmy. "Lou?" he asked anxiously.

"Nothing I can't handle. We're almost there. Control," Lou said. "Be advised, we have a situation developing. Emergency crews to standby."

"Roger, Blackfoot. Runways are clear. Preferred LZ marked, double strobe."

"You sure I shouldn't be worried?" Cain asked, never knowing Lou to request for the cleanup crew.

Lou merely grunted, half squinting his eyes in concentration, flying in a shaky, yet steady path toward a pair of blinking strobes on the ground.

"You're coming in to hot!"

"Shut up," Lou growled and yanked back on the stick, throwing the chopper into a near stall, braking hard when the engine quit. With the loss of power the craft quickly lost its remaining altitude and crashed hard to the ground, bending the supports and shoving the skids into the fuselage. The tail rotor disintegrated as the tail crumpled, throwing shrapnel in a wide arc. The buckled tail-section lifted into the main rotor, losing chunks to the whirling blades in heartbeats. Finally, everything came to rest in a smoking heap, nose section barely on the tarmac.

"And you bitch about me blowing shit up," Cain said dryly, pulling the latch on the safety harness. "If I had a dime for every time you've crashed an aircraft."

Lou quirked an eyebrow at Cain. "Any landing you walk away from ..." he asked with a smirk.

"Ok, smart-ass," Cain quipped. "But you're giving me grey hairs."

"What was it you needed to tell me?"

"It was her, from the briefing," he said.

"Huh?" Lou asked, confused for a moment

"The calico test subject," Cain replied, "that the HLF used the TACGNOL chemical on. She'd wound up like the others. Suicide. Wrists chewed. They'd tied her body in a chair and piled explosives ... somewhere. In the desk, I think, maybe even in the chair's cushion, fuck, I don't know. I'm guessing it was on a timer when the door opened. I barely had time to..."

A tap on the front glass of the helicopter cut Cain off. Outside, a hyena in a charcoal suit flanked by two human Military Police waited patiently. "Finish later, I guess," Lou said and unbuckled from his harness.

"Blackfoot," the hyena said, once the pair appeared in the open cargo door. "I trust the trip was uneventful?"

Lou cut a glance at Cain. "I need a vacation from my vacation," he said, giving the programmed response.

The hyena nodded. "This way, then, gentlemen," he said, turning around and walked toward a small building at the edge of the flight line.

""C'mon, Lou," Cain smirked. "Let's go get this over with."

Lou gave an exasperated sigh and shook his head. Both cat and horse followed the suit while the MPs fell in close behind.

The three furries and the accompanying goon-squad entered through a rust-red painted door. Inside, it was just as austere with grey and windowless cinder block walls. A bare and equally grey smooth concrete floor interrupted only by what Cain identified as an anti-gravity repulsion freight lift retrofitted with a half-dozen seats.

"Sit down, strap in, shut up, and enjoy the ride," the hyena said with a mirthful giggle.

The pair obliged, and with the second click of the safety harness, the hyena pushed a button on his arm rest. A muted blue flash appeared at the edges of the lift, seconds before the bottom fell out of the world.

"Welcome to transport station Gamma," the hyena said when the lift stopped ninety seconds later. "Thanks to professors Newton and Galileo and the local gravity well, you are now a little over a half-mile below the surface."

"Seems a bit excessive for a debriefing," Cain said, unbuckling from the harness.

"Oh, no, the depth is quite necessary. This actually houses some of the nation's theoretical physics labs. A real life 'Black Mesa' if you will," the hyena said with a chuckle. "There is a sister lab about an hour outside of home base as well." He'd already unbuckled and started walking slowly down the only exit.

"Great. E-Branch. Ok, cut to the chase. Why are we here?" Cain asked, falling in step with Lou at his side.

"The director has requested an immediate, and personal update on the situation," he said with another giggle.

"Bad news travels fast, 'eh? What's the director doing here?"

"Shi's not here. I don't think shi's even left home base in the last three years."

"Well then, we need to get off this tour and on a plane, it's a two hour flight!" Cain said exasperated.

At this, the hyena burst out into another giggle-fit. "You're not going to fly."

"How, then, do you propose we get there in person, then?" Cain asked, quite puzzled.

The hyena stopped in front of what resembled a highly reinforced blast door. Typing in a code on the keypad opened up a retinal scanner. Placing his eye to it, the hyena simply said, "You'll see."

A low deep thunk, more felt than heard signaled acceptance of the hyena's retinal ID, granting passage through the door. It slid slowly into the wall on the left, revealing a small hive of frenetic activities inside.

Dominating the room, a large, grey, metal doughnut rotated slowly around a ramp. Powerful bolts of blue lightning arced from the inside rim to a ball of plasma in the center. Perched on the ramp, a gleaming black SUV idled with both front doors open.

Lou's ears perked forward. "Never thought I'd be riding a rumour," he said with a trace of awe.

One ear folded back, Cain gave his partner a mixed look of quizzical annoyance. "Um... 'Ride a rumour'?" he echoed.

"Yeah. I'd only heard about this in whispers about whispers. This is one of the blackest of all the black projects, Cain."

"I'm ... still confused," Cain began, staring at the large metallic ring. "What exactly, is all this?" he asked with a sweep of an upturned hand.

"Direct Electrical Wave Matter Transference," said the hyena, "or, teleportation in layman's terms."

"Right," Cain said with both ears folded back. "All this to save a two hour flight?"

"C'mon Cain," said Lou. "It'll be fun!"

"Look, my idea of fun doesn't include having my body discombibu... dosconbab..."

"Discombobulated?" the hyena offered.

"Yeah, what he said. Unlike your gay, feline ass, I may want to have kids someday."

Lou laughed. "My gay, feline ass hasn't produced any of your children yet, Cain. Besides, do you honestly think this hasn't been tested extensively?" he asked.

The hyena nodded. "Your partner is right. The failure rate is well below acceptable limits. There hasn't been a dimensional tangle or loss of life accident for ... oh ... what is today?" he said, looking at his watch with a smirk.

"You ain't exactly boosting my confidence, chuckle boy," grumbled Cain.

"My apologies, but like you said earlier, we're wasting time," the hyena said, casually pulling a taser from inside his jacket. The MPs moved in close to the horse. "You have two choices, Agent Cain. Both of them involve going through the portal. The only difference between the two is whether or not you're walking into it, or we're throwing you through it. Really, Cain, E-Branch is on the ball with this one."

"Yeah, well, forgive me if I don't exactly trust those E-Clowns," Cain said hotly. "There is no way in hell... Hey! Let go of me, asshole!" Cain struggled in the sudden grip of the two guards.

"Have it your way then," the hyena said with a shrug, and pulled the trigger.