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SPECIAL ACCESS

Chapter 6 - Plans fail for lack of counsel, but with many advisers they succeed.- Proverbs 15:22

Silver and Vikki worked through the night, reading files, making notes, tracking people down and getting them out of bed to answer a few pointed questions. It was dawn when they emerged from the Special Access area. They retired to the quest suite in the dormitory for a quick shower and a ninety-minute nap before returning to the Headquarters.

By the time the rest arrived for the nine o'clock meeting the conference room was set up with copies of the pertinent files and the appropriate paperwork to allow those not already read-in access to them. Marcel had already signed those papers so he began reading right away while the Head of the Operations centre, the bespeckled grey fox Bill Hanlan, and Kain Algorath, the artic fox in charge of IT, cyber defence and hacking, read and signed the papers allowing them special access to the files. When they were signed Molissa appeared to gather them up.

"Who was that?" Kain asked after she had left.

"Don't ask," Marcel advised, "unless you want to spend another hour signing papers."

When everyone was done reading Kain brough them up to date on the submarine Agent Jade had stuck the tracker to.

"The pings we've received so far put it in the waters of the Riau Archipelago, at the south end of the South China Sea near Indonesia. It looks to be heading for the Indian Ocean."

"Via the Straights of Malacca?" Vikki asked.

"Probably not." Bill answered. "That route is long, narrow, crowded and shallow, with a strong military presence from the four countries that border it. They would have to go slowly on the surface and are sure to be challenged. They will probably go for the Sunda Straight between the islands of Java and Sumatra. It's shallower but much shorter, and it lets out directly into some of the deepest waters of the Indian ocean. Very few inhabited places overlook the Sunda and the Indonesians don't have much of a military presence in the area; certainly no anti-submarine capability. The sub can run the straight at the surface at night and dive deep before the Indonesians can get anyone there to intercept them."

"Wherever they are headed, it will have to be a place with launch facilities for a rocket that big," Bill continued, "and that is a very short list."

Marcel looked at the files again.

"The bold theft of a rocket, fuel for it and a guidance system; I can see how they are all related. But to be any use they will need a payload. I haven't seen anything about missing nuclear warheads, chemical or biological weapons though."

"Neither have we." Silver said, indicating himself and Vikki

"Maybe they already have a payload?" Kain speculated. "From the Indian Ocean they could cut cross the Arabian sea to Iran. They have launch facilities and nuclear warheads."

"They also have easier ways to get those warheads to any potential target." Bill countered. "Besides, this is a space rocket, one designed for interplanetary travel, not an ICBM. Whoever took it wants to get their payload far away from Earth."

"Why do they need existing launch facilities?" Marcel asked. "Can't they just assemble it on any large flat surface and go from there?"

Bill smiled and shook his head.

"Rockets this complicated need a little more than a flat place and fuel truck. Not even an existing satellite launch site would do. Interplanetary rockets need a spaceport with assembly buildings, rails or giant tractors to move the rocket into position, well separated fuel and liquid oxygen storage and fueling areas, fire suppression systems, launch control facilities, workshops, labs and quarters for dozens if not hundreds of technicians. You can't build anything that big in secret, and to build one for a single launch would be prohibitively expensive.

Silver leaned forward. "So, who has those kinds of facilities?"

"Six countries and one private company." Bill ticked off the list on his paws. "Russia, the USA, China, India, France and Japan. Russia, China and Japan are out because the sub is moving away from them. The USA is unlikely because they already have a rocket that big and all the components for it. That leaves India and the French spaceport in French Guiana. Both of those are on the coast and could accept delivery by submarine if necessary. We'll know if it's heading for either of those through the tracker."

Marcel was frowning. "You said that there was a commercial launch provider capable of taking big rockets like this."

Bill nodded. "An American company called Sea Launch had a couple of large, converted oil rigs they rent out, the Odyssey and the Trekker."

"They 'had' a couple? What happened to them?"

"The Odyssey is stationed in California and is still used for near equator launches in the pacific, but it is too small for this rocket. Their larger platform, the Trekker, sank in the Caribbean a couple of months ago."

Marcel sat straight up. "In the Caribbean? Which part?"

"Uhm, let me see." Bill tapped at the keyboard of his laptop. "South of the Cayman Islands. The flotation tanks ruptured and it went down with most of the crew in the deepest part of the Cayman Trough called the Bartlett Deep."

Marcel was furiously pounding at his own keyboard while Bill continued. "The Cayman Trough is four hundred and fifty kilometres long, and the Bartlett Deep is over seventy-five hundred metres deep. Only a few small subs can go that deep and thus only a small portion has ever been explored. There was no possibility of salvaging the platform."

By the time he finished everyone was looking at Marcel.

"Got it!" He cried and stopped typing. He spun the laptop around so that the rest could see the screen.

"That is the cover art from a sixty-year-old spy novel." Silver pointed out. He recognized it from his father's collection. He had the full set of a more recent printing at home too.

"Yes." Marcel said excitedly. "But weren't you telling me that they were all based on the real-life exploits of a British agent?"

"That's right." Silver acknowledged, realizing where Marcel was going with this now.

"In this novel a turncoat dumps a plane with a couple of nuclear warheads in the shallow waters of the Caribbean." Marcel explained for the others. "Then they use a sub to move them to deeper water between the Caymans and Jamacia until they are ready to use them. These other cases were all imitations of other operations, what if the sinking of the launch platform was too? They could have sunk it deliberately and put it on that giant sub to hide somewhere else until they need it and still had plenty of time to get to Hainan to steal the rocket."

"The platform is semi-submersible." Bill admitted. "They can lower them under the water to avoid storms. It can stay submerged indefinitely without compromising it's launch capabilities."

"And the sub could tow it anywhere in the seven seas to launch the rocket." Vikki noted.

"They still need a large, sheltered space to assemble the rocket." Bill pointed out.

"So, assuming that have such a place, the only thing they are still missing is a payload." Silver concluded.

"Maybe they are going to steal that next." Bill offered.

"After this meeting you are going to scour the Special Access files for any clues as to what that could be." Silver told the grey fox.

"Right Chie- ... I mean, right, Director. Sorry, still getting used to the promotions." Bill grinned shyly. "Can I ask though, what's Fox's role in this?"

"We sort of inherited it."

"How so?"

Silver sat back, rested his elbows on the arms of the big Director's chair and linked his digits under his muzzle. Those who knew him knew they were in for a long explanation.

"This story started almost eighty years ago," he began, "When a brilliant young German geneticist, a red fox named Otto Fuchs, was assigned to assist Doctor Joseph Mengele in his experiments at Auschwitz. Long before Watson and Crick described the DNA molecule's structure Fuchs had started to crack its secret code. While Mengele toyed with twins and fooled around with eye colours Fuchs began searching for ways to direct which traits were passed on in order to produce better soldiers for the Reich. He also experimented with hybrids, crossing certain species to obtain desirable traits from both."

"At the end of the war Fuchs' lab and a secret copy of his research papers were found by a team lead by a British Intelligence officer, one Major Wilbur Wadsworth Withersby."

"That's Sir Wilbur!" Bill exclaimed. "Our former Director, W."

"None other. W found a scene out of a horror movie with the stillborn fetuses of failed breeding experiments preserved along with the dissected remains of those that survived for a few hours or days. And something he left out of his official report, there were several horribly mutated children, found still alive, and in terrible pain, begging to be put out of their misery. They could not survive, even in their wretched state, without the equipment that had ceased to function once the guards took away anything they could carry and sabotaged the rest. W sent his troops away and dealt with the poor creatures himself. Then he set fire to the lab, cremating the specimens as well as the poor children he had eased into the next world."

Silver sighed at the thought of killing children for whatever reason. "W kept the research papers they had found hidden in Fuchs' office in case they ever brought the fox to trial, but like his supervisor, Mengele, Fuchs disappeared before the Allies reached the camp. W hid the files and eventually moved them here to FOX, placing them in the original Special Access vault."

"We found out later that Fuchs had been captured by the Americans. He knew that the OSS, the forerunner of the CIA, had been conducting similar research as part of their 'Super Soldier' project. But the Americans never had anywhere near the kind of success that the 'Captain America' comic book stories they issued to boost morale claimed. Fuchs offered his expertise in exchange for a limited amount of freedom and for the next sixty years he worked secretly for the Americans. He continued to try to cross-breed species to produce soldiers with multiple abilities, as well as working on stem cell treatments that would improve muscle mass and endurance."

"And W couldn't get the Americans to turn him over?"

"No. Their genetic program was covered by Special Access rules and it wasn't until they gave up and shut it down fifteen years ago that W found out Fuchs was still alive. Not needing Fuchs anymore the Americans got slack about his movements and he managed to slip away. He never made the mistake of writing down his research again but W suspected that the project had failed because he was covering up any real progress. He started a world-wide search for the war criminal and when Fuchs was located back in Germany in two-thousand and eight I was sent to bring him in."

"It seemed, however, that Fuchs had been sampling his muscle building treatments. Although he was over eighty at the time he was more than a match for me physically. I had to goad him into loosing his temper to get his head in a trap and crush his skull before he did the same to mine. So we had no idea what he was up to, how far his research had really gone or who he might have sold it too in the meanwhile."

Vikki frowned. "I'm surprised the Americans let him go so long with no concrete results."

"Oh, it doesn't surprise me." Bill injected. "They spent decades and millions of dollars on psychic research, trying to read the minds of goats."

"Why goats?"

Bill shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe they wanted to take over Greece. But that's why this doesn't surprise me."

Silver cleared his throat. "His efforts were not completely without success. During the war he had discovered that he could force cats and bats to produce offspring, but he could not yet control which genes were passed on and most came out stillborn or deformed beyond the ability to survive on their own."

Marcel's ears pricked up. "Cats and bats?" He said with more interest than he usually showed for scientific subjects. "How can that be?"

Bill Hanlan, who had taught high school science at one time before applying to FOX, took on the task of explaining.

"Normally it doesn't." He said. "While bats and cats are both mammals they are from completely different Orders. Bats are of the Order Chiroptera while cats are of the Order Carnivora."

Marcel looked confused. "I thought bats were carnivorous too?"

"Some are." Bill sighed patiently, remembering that Marcel never had a formal education. "But may are herbivores or omnivorous. The way it works is that any creatures that are from the same Species can generally breed with each other. You, Silver and Vikki are all red foxes, despite your colour variations. Red foxes from all over the world can breed with each other."

"And sometimes do." Silver mumbled. Vikki shot him a dirty look.

"Anyways," Bill continued, "The next level up is the Genus. Foxes are of the Genus Vulpes. I'm a grey fox, a separate species from you, as is Kain here, an arctic fox. None of the fox species can breed with any other, so red foxes that want kits breed with red foxes, arctic foxes with arctic foxes, grey with grey, fennecs with fennecs, et cetera."

"But in some Genera the various Species can cross-breed, like with the Canines. Wolves, dogs and coyotes can all crossbred because they had a common ancestor. It all depends on how the number and type of chromosomes match. A close match means you can breed successfully, but a slight difference can result in disaster. Donkeys and horses, while both Equines, can only produce sterile mules."

Usually at this point in one of Bill's lectures Marcels' eyes would glaze over and he would slump unconscious in his seat, but today he was laser focused on the older fox's explanation.

"The level above that is the Family. Foxes and Canines are both in the Canidae Family, which also includes jackals, dingos, hyenas and tanukis. Strangely enough, there is at least one case of a red fox breeding successfully with a tanuki, but the tanuki genus is closer related to the foxes than the other canines are."

"Next up is the Order. The order Carnivora, creatures that are mainly carnivorous, includes all the Canidae and the Felines, like your mate Geno, and such diverse creatures as bears, walruses, raccoons, pandas, skunks and badgers. The Class that the Carnivora falls under is Mammalia - the mammals. That includes marsupials, rodents, bats, elephants and whales, some of which are actually carnivorous, or omnivorous, but many are herbivores."

"So, to sum up, breeding between Species within a Genus is possible, but not common. Breeding between Genera in the same Family is rare. Between Families, even in the same Order, is almost unheard of, and between Orders has long been considered impossible."

"Until Fuchs did it." Silver added dryly.

"Uh, yes." Bill admitted. "He must have found species from both Orders that had enough genes in common to attempt cross-breeding. As the science advanced the ability to pick and choose which traits got carried over improved, but as I recall his last effort produced only sterile offspring."

"Almost." Silver corrected. "The five 'brothers' in the ca-bat group, while well developed physically and outwardly female, were all sterile males. Their 'sister', Saira Rasielle, the one that tried to infiltrate FOX, while outwardly a poorly developed male, had functional female organs and was capable of reproducing. Fuchs had told her that she was a super breeder, capable of procreating with almost any other species. One of her objectives here at FOX was to recruit potential mates among the elite candidates here for breeding."

"Weren't they also after Fuchs' research?"

"Yes. Rasielle was very intelligent but with Fuchs dead she needed his research to achieve their goal of achieving perfection through breeding."

"Yeah, those crazy flying felines believed in those mythical furless Humans." Marcel snorted. "Thankfully Silver incinerated them." He turned his grin towards the head of the table, but his smile faded under the force of Silver's frown. "You did incinerate them, didn't you?"

"I thought I did, but something Delores Johnson recorded from the office of the Deputy Director of the SVR made me reconsider. Early this morning we got a hold of the cleanup crew and they can only confirm the presence of five large hybrid creatures from the remains they examined. They assumed that we had miscounted when we told them to expect six bodies. It now appears that the five larger 'brothers' threw themselves on top of Saira to protect their only breeder from the worst of the fire. Those of us that survived the encounter were exhausted and badly wounded and we couldn't stick around for the fire to die down to sift though the bodies."

Marcel's jaw dropped. "You think Rasielle escaped?"

"So it appears."

"Zac is going to be some pissed." Marcel said, shaking his head.

Silver said nothing but Marcel was right. The cat-bats had killed all of Zac Ember's classmates, including his lover at the time, and almost got Zac too. The wolf would indeed be 'some pissed' at the news.

Bill Hanlan spoke up. "Where do you think Rasielle went, Silver?"

"With no hope of getting her paws on Fuchs' research she was forced to go to the Russians to continue her quest." Silver continued. "During the war the Soviets had managed to infiltrate both the American and Nazi super soldier programs. When they saw that genetics were not getting either anywhere they wrote off that method as a dead end and concentrated on the fledgling science of cloning instead. Early success with invertebrates led them to believe that a breakthrough with mammals was just around the corner, so they started collecting and freezing samples from their strongest, smartest and most talented soldiers, engineers and spies. They even took samples of exceptional foreigners when they could get them. The program was run by one Vasyl Timoshenko."

"The Werewolf of Odessa." Marcel said, remembering his short encounter with the large wolf's granddaughter in Nicosia.

"One and the same." Silver confirmed.

"Along with his missile intercept project Timoshenko continued with the cloning program and, as the science advanced, branched out into genetic modification, gene merging and accelerated growth. The breakup of the Soviet Union slowed him down but when Putin came to power he reinstated the program. Russia had lost all of its best KGB agents to the West when the State stopped paying them so Putin ordered the Werewolf to concentrate on cloning super spies. He wanted the clones to have the skills of the best of the best, to be able to out-shoot, out-fight, out-drive and out-fuck anyone they came against. Someone with the skill, initiative and luck required to survive in the highly competitive and often fatal world of high-class espionage. Timoshenko, who had been collecting tissue and fluid samples from prisoners for years, called it 'Project Amalgam'."

"Timoshenko partnered up with Miko Dourado, a yellow monkey whose genetic techniques were very advanced for the time. He wanted to sell physical perfection to the rich and powerful. Timoshenko wanted his research and the samples he was collecting. We were able to destroy his volcanic lair and kill Timoshenko once and for all, but not before Dourado's research and samples were sent back to Moscow. There they had samples going back sixty years and all the research they stole from the Americans and the Nazis. All they needed was someone with enough skill, knowledge and drive to put it all together.

"Rasielle." Marcel guessed.

"Exactly. In the last ten years she has managed to kick-start Project Amalgam and produce a super spy they call 'the Asset'. She used samples of the best agents and assassins they had, and there was quite a lot to choose from. It seems that the best are always leaving little bits of themselves behind on their missions. They had tissue from Carlos the Jackal, the Saint, Helm, Flint and that guy." He pointed to Marcel's screen which still displayed the cover art of the British spy novel. "They had blood from Hunt, Ryan, Bourne and Solo."

"Han Solo?" Marcel asked, puzzled.

"Napoleon Solo, and, uh, some stuff from a couple of Canadians too."

Bill had been writing furiously and looked up when Silver mumbled the last bit. "You have to tell us who he has samples of if we're going to build an accurate profile of 'The Asset', Director."

Silver flushed under his light facial fur. "They had seamen sample of mine from when the Werewolf was torturing me in Russia, and placental fluid taken from the Chief of Staff by the yellow monkey." He nodded toward Vikki, who had been the captive of the crazed primate and his pyromaniac husky henchdog while she was pregnant with Leslie. "According to what Dimity Filipov told his boss the Asset has DNA from us as well as those I've already mentioned."

"Why no Russians?" Kain wondered.

"Putin felt that there must be a genetic flaw that made them untrustworthy because the best KGB agents were either double agents spying for the West or they defected as soon as the Soviet Union ceased to exist."

"Wait." Marcel injected. "You said that all the best KGB agents defected, but didn't Putin stay behind?"

"My point exactly."

"Ooohhh. Got ya. So, you and Vikki and every famous spy that's ever wielded a gun or a trick Rolex is part of this ... is it a guy ... or a girl ... or both, like Rasielle?"

Silver looked uncomfortable.

"It ... it's a shape shifter. According to Filipov it not only has the attributes of a dozen different species but the ability to shape its body to the task, to a degree at least, thanks to a bit of octopus DNA in the mix."

Kain Algorath had been scribbling on a pad and looked up frowning. "Vik- I mean, the Chief of Staff, was pregnant just over a dozen years ago. How could they have a fully-grown agent in such a short time?"

"They isolated and included the gene that causes Progeria, rapid aging disease." Vikki answered. "That brought their asset to maturity in just five years."

Kain's frown deepened. "Even if they managed to grow an adult agent in five years I can't understand how this creature got so good in such a short time. Who trained it and taught it all the spy tradecraft?"

"No one." Silver replied. "It's common knowledge that some creatures have the ability to pass skills and basic memories down to their offspring. Rasielle simply found the genes that control that trait and included them into the mix. The Asset knows every trick, technique and method that all its progenitors did. It didn't have to be taught how to shoot because it already knew how, it just had to practice a bit. Filipov said that it can drive any vehicle by instinct, fly almost any aircraft, navigate by the stars and the magnetic fields, seduce the most frigid subject, pick locks, mix drinks, assemble or disarm bombs and choose the perfect wine for any meal. It could pull off all these missions," he swept his paw over the files they had just read, "because it already knew how we did it in the past."

Bill studied his notes. "He ... she ... it ... they ... must have a weakness. I better get these names to Doctor Gordon so he can work up a profile on the Asset."

"Weaknesses from one parent may be negated by strengths in another." Silver observed. "But if he can find a common trait that made all these agents special maybe he can find a common weakness, or at lest one that other attributes don't overshadow."

Marcel picked at his teeth with a claw nervously. "You say that this Asset is only five years old but already full grown? Is it still aging? How long before it gets too old like ..." he caught Silver's death stare out of the corner of his eye, "like ... just too old?"

"It will die of old age in ten years or so if left on its own," Silver informed them, "but by then they could grow any number of exact copies, or improved versions if they need to make adjustments. By starting a new one every few years they could always have one at peek performance ready to take the previous one's place. So far, according to what Filipov told his boss, this is the only one, and it is missing, along with Rasielle, the samples and all the research."

"Then it's likely not stealing all this space technology for the Russians." Bill mused. "But what the hell does Rasielle want with it?"

"Whatever it is," Silver said, "it can't be good. I can't imagine that she did not include some of her own telepathic abilities into the mix, along with the hatred of all ordinary species that she and her brothers felt." He sat back in the big chair. "Rasielle and her brothers wanted to breed back to the mythic 'perfect human' form and exert the dominance of their kind over every other species as their God-given right. Her defeat here and having to suffer the arrogance of the Russian elite in order to further her cause can only have deepened that hatred. She and her amalgamated Asset can only have taken the latest in space technology because she has some fantastical and stupendous revenge in mind."

The silver fox paused to gather his thoughts. "I know that our mission is to further the aims and goals of Canada and NATO and answer to our civilian masters, but this is more important than the Russians grabbing another chunk of someone else's land, no matter how many war crimes they commit doing it, or some terrorist threatening us from afar. This is nothing less than a threat to every natural species on Earth, we need to drop everything to respond to it."

He sat up, looking determined, and addressed the group. "We'll need to fan out and call in every favour anyone owes us. The Chief of Staff will hand out the individual assignments but meanwhile," he turned to face Marcel, "I'm sending you to Washington for an emergency meeting of the Red, White and Blue group. You are authorized to tell our American and British Allies what we know and in turn I expect them to tell you anything they know that might be of assistance. You'll leave on the late flight tonight so make your arrangements with your mate and be back here for a detailed briefing after lunch."

"Right Chief ... boss ... Director ... Sir."

Silver could read the nervousness behind black fox's response. "Don't worry Marcel. The American and British reps on the Red, White and Blue committee might have a better pedigree but neither of them has nearly as much practical experience as you do. Just be yourself and you'll be fine. And now," he said as he stood and arched his back with both paws on his hips. "the guest suite is nice but the mattress is not as firm as I like, so I will use the Director's privilege and drop in on the physiotherapist for a quick stretching and muscle pounding. The Chief of Staff will take it from here."

"Right." He heard Vikki say as he headed for the door. "Here are the assignments for the various departments and agents. Algorath, I want you to liaise with the SIGINT agencies to monitor ..."

The closing of the soundproof door cut her off. Silver would have liked to stay but he needed to let go of the reins if Vikki was to be the Chief of Staff she was meant to be. The visit to the physio department was not just an excuse to let her work unsupervised, however, it was also in line with Doctor Jones' recommendations. Silver would let the Physiotherapist, a snow leopard named Natashia Winters, take a look at his paw and the kink in his neck that was giving him so much trouble lately.

Thinking of the snow leopard and how she had come to be employed at FOX reminded Silver that he should break the news about Saira Rasielle's resurrection to Zac Ember personally. The wolf was sure to freak when he found out and Silver was the only other survivor of that particular encounter.

The Physiotherapist's treatment room was in the Academy's Medical Centre. Silver grabbed his coat and headed out through the Operations Centre because it was closer. It had warmed up overnight and the snow has melted, leaving chilly puddles and patches of wilted grass behind. Silver stuck to the sidewalks to keep from ruining his shoes.

The medical clinic looked like the numerous Agriculture Canada research labs scattered about the grounds of the Central Experimental Farm. Like those labs, one needed a key card and a code to get in. There was also a contingent of Corps of Commissionaires guards inside in case some tourist visiting the nearby Botanical Gardens got lost. The difference was that the Commissionaires in the FOX facilities looked more like Special Forces operatives. Anyone that wandered into one of their buildings would wake up three days later with their brain wiped by a combination of drugs and a broken limb supposedly inflicted in a hit-and-run.

"Good thing the Commissionaires in the nearest building saw it and rushed to help." A kindly rat in a lab coat with 'Dr. Gordon' stitched on the pocket would inform them. "Otherwise you might have died. You should consider sending a donation to the charity they support."

The Commissionaires inside the entrance to the medical building recognized Silver and touched their foreheads respectfully as he passed. He nodded back.

Silver had to consult the directory because the Physio Department was relatively new and he had never visited it before. His only run ins with the resident therapist, Natasha Winters, had all occurred when she and her lover, Zac Embers, were engaged in their favourite pastime ... trying to distract the other during shooting contests. Normally Silver encouraged a little competition as it helped hone the agents' skills, but Zac and Natasha used sex to distract the other and there had been several complaints about the range being locked from the inside and smelling 'funky' after the wolf and leopard had used it. Silver had even walked in on them a couple of times because his code overrode the internal locks.

It came to the point where Silver had ordered them to take it elsewhere. Since then, there had been no more complaints or incidents of coitus interruptus so he assumed that they had started renting one of the private ranges for their competitive Kama Sutra shooting sessions.

He arrived at her office to find it open, but the treatment door was closed and locked. That was not suspicious, as patients were entitled to their privacy. He had also heard that the powerful snow leopard could reduce the best of his agents to a whimpering mass of jello only rivaled by the best of their tortures, and of course they would not want others to see them crying.

Sounds from the other side of the treatment room door seemed to confirm this theory. There were gasps and grunts and even small cries of what could be pain and he imagined her bending some recovering agent over double in order to bring their flexibility back and loosen muscles knotted by injury. He reviewed the latest medical summary in his head and wondered which one it was. Maybe the student injured on the training exercise, he supposed.

He sat down in the waiting room and glanced at the selection of magazines on the table. Most dealt with home decorating, wedding planning and knitting. The newest was from nineteen eighty-nine. He did find one about gardening though, and the article 'How to make your perennials pop' caught his attention. The rock garden he had been working on in a remote corner of the Academy for years was all perennials that were planted so as to show a different colour palette as the seasons progressed from early Spring to late Fall; but they could always use a little 'pop'.

His reading was interrupted by the increasingly louder and more rhythmic sounds from the treatment room. They were more like moans than groans now ... somewhat familiar moans.

The door had a mechanical lock but at did not deter Silver; he always carried a pen with a hidden lock pick set out of force of habit. A screwdriver or a metal comb would have worked just as well on the cheap lock designed to preserve privacy rather than restrict access. Holding the knob so that there would be no tell-tale 'click' Silver eased the door open and peeked inside.

As he suspected, Natasha the physiotherapist and Zac Ember the agent were going at it like cum puppets on the massage table.

The snow leopard was in an inverted 'V' having raised up on her fingers and toes with her ass in the air and her thick tail wrapped around her. The red-furred wolf was behind her with one leg folded across her back and the other snug against her hip. One paw was on her butt, thumb buried to the second knuckle in her tailhole, while he grasped the chrome exercise bar mounted above the table with the other.

Having spent several decades seducing enemy agents and three months studying advanced sexual techniques in a Bangkok brothel Silver had seen - and done - a thing or two, and there was little that could surprise or shock him, but he had to admire the sheer acrobatic acumen they demonstrated in that position.

Every muscle on her body stood out as she strained to hold her position against his relentless pounding. She even managed to flex her glutes enough to squeeze his thumb like she was trying to milk it with her ass. Meanwhile he used what leverage he could from his awkward position to swing his hips back and forth, pulling his cock almost clear of her grasping cunt before plunging it forcefully back in again.

His eyes were closed and his teeth were grit from the effort. Hers were closed too, but her expression was more one of satisfaction than strain, indicating that she had the advantage in this particular competition.

Silver was about to close the door when she gasped "Now, let go of the bar."

"Wha- ... that's not fair. I'll fall over."

"Not if you use your leg muscles like I taught you. Concentrate and isolate the ones you need to keep the rhythm going. Flex the right while loosening the left then vice versa ... and don't forget those glutes!"

Silver watched, fascinated, as Zac tentatively released the bar that had steadied and supported him. He wavered, faltered a bit and had to swing his arms wildly to keep his balance but after a moment he straightened up. Silver could see the effort and the concentration etched in his back as muscle groups tensed and released like he was learning to use a swing for the first time.

The Director was tempted to yell 'Boo' to see what kind of chaos would ensue but didn't due to the risk of permanent injury from them falling off the massage table.

With no distractions Zac was able to regain control and gradually lower his extended arm. Reaching under his leg his digits found the hard bump of flesh at the base of the tunnel that his shaft was drilling.

Silver took that as his cue to close the door, but inside the pair was till going strong.

"Agh ... God ... I didn't think you could do it." Natasha moaned as Zac's digit spread some of the juices dripping from her onto her clit before setting in to rub it mercilessly. She began to twitch and shake at the added stimuli.

"Don't throw me off now." Zac cautioned her. I'm just getting the hang of this."

If he fell off the table, or even swayed enough to pull his cock free of her, he would lose the contest. For her part, she had to maintain her arched position until he fell off or came inside her. Dropping to her hands and knees or cumming herself would forfeit the challenge to him.

His mind had split into three parts, one controlling the alternating tension on his leg muscles that kept his cock pistoling in and out with losing his balance while the other two parts managed a paw each. His left paw continued to make little circles around her clit, lubricated by the increasing flow from inside her, while his right thumb worked itself in and out of her tailhole. It was like rubbing your tummy while patting your head, he supposed. It was difficult at first but once you learned to detach the two movements you could speed up and even alternate them, which he did, rotating his thumb while rubbing her clit up and down with the middle digit of his other paw.

It was like playing two different instruments at once, three if you counted the streaky beat of his hips against her ass, and he found pleasure in being able to bring her pleasure.

She had chosen this challenge because it was supposed to isolate all sensation on a single spot, one she could easily deal with, but Zac had proven more capable than she had suspected. Now she had three sources of erogenous stimulation while he just had his cock to worry about. She was afraid that she was going to lose this contest.

Spasms in her thighs and belly told her that it was time to surrender before they both got hurt. Reluctantly she dropped to her knees and rested her arms on the heels of her paws while he continued without faltering.

Zac followed her down without skipping a beat. Once they were settled he swung his left leg forward, around and down so he was crouching behind her with a leg on either side of her hips and his paws still working her clit and anus. Now the big muscles in his ass and thighs were working together to rock his hips with enough force to make his balls slap the back of his paw when their pelvises slammed together.

Having 'won' the contest by forcing her out of position he was relieved of the need to hold back anymore. He let himself enjoy the feeling of her hot, wet cunt as it alternately slid along and squeezed his prick. The influx of sensation combined with the relaxation of the muscles in his pelvic region brought about a sudden, massive ejaculation. He let out a loud groan and held his pelvis against her as his cock jerked and gushed deep inside her.

The sudden spurt of hot spooge triggered her climax; a satisfying all-over explosion of warmth, wiggles and wetness driven by the triple stimulus on her ass, clit and cunt. Her moans turned into snarls of pleasure as her liquids mixed with his cum and trickled down her thighs.

When they both stopped twitching he pulled his thumb from her tailhole and removed his paw from her clit. She collapsed on the massage table. Her fell on top of her. Both their chests were heaving as bodies spent from the effort demanded oxygen. When she could, she spoke.

"My lunch break is almost over, Zac. You need to get off so we can clean up."

"I thought that you didn't have another appointment until three?"

"That's true, but if Doctor Jones comes in and finds us like this that will be the end of my employment her at FOX."

"Oh, I don't know." He mused, remembering many, many trysts with Delores Johnson in more public places around the Academy. "They tolerate quite a bit around here."

She rocked her hips and he rolled off, landing lightly on his feet. She got up and threw him a small towel while she wiped the love juice of her legs and belly.

"Out in the training spaces, sure, but here in the medical centre it's different. Jones insists that we keep it professional."

"So, no nookie unless it's noon?" He said, coming up behind her and cupping her large breasts in his big paws."

She placed her paws on his and pressed them tight against her for a moment before replying, "Or some other authorized pause, although you might find it unsatisfying getting it on during a fifteen-minute coffee break."

"Hey, I'm always up for a quickie. I don't need a full hour every time."

She turned and gave him a quick peck on the corner of his mouth before grabbing a bottle of sanitizer and some paper towels. "I do." She said as she set to scrubbing the damp leather of the massage table. "Now either get dressed or come help me ... and crack open the window; it smells like a brothel in here."

Five minutes later the table was scrubbed and dry and Natasha had spritzed the room with air freshener. The temperature had dropped ten degrees because of the open window so they shivered as they got dressed. Zac closed the window as Natasha opened the door then turned to follow her out.

They were both shocked into silence on finding the new Director sitting in the waiting room, reading an old gardening magazine.

"Early lunch today, Winters?" Silver asked, arching his left eyebrow, the one with the scar through it.

"Uh, yes, Chief ... Director, sir." She stammered. "I came in at seven to make rounds with Doctor Jones and when I do that I take my lunch break early, otherwise I get too hungry."

"I'm sure you do." He replied, but his eyes were on Zac. "And you, Agent Ember, were you getting hungry too?"

"Er, yes, sir." Just at that moment his stomach betrayed him by emitting a hungry growl. "I, uh, guess I ate too fast."

"Well, don't rush your food. After all," he said with a slight grin, "you have a whole hour to get it down."

Zac wondered how much the Director might have overheard. "Yes sir."

"Anyway," the big silver fox said as he marked his place in the magazine he had been reading, "It's good that you have already ... eaten. Things are going to get very busy around here. If you check in with the Chief of Staff you'll find that she has an interesting position ... I mean a difficult, uh, assignment, that is, for you."

"Yes sir." Zac replied, and after a moment of silence he hurried out.

"Good agent, that Ember." Silver said to no one in particular before turning to Natasha. "Do you have some time for a consultation?"

She had been expecting an admonition for their recent activity and the casual inquiry caught her off guard. She shook her head to clear it.

"Uh, yes, sure. Doctor Jones said that you would probably be by, so he sent you file over." She moved behind the desk and took a folder from the drawer. "Let's see ... right paw ligatures swollen, possible frozen rib on the right side, slightly herniated disc in the lumbar and arthritis in the neck from ... a broken neck ... almost forty years ago?" She raised her eyes from the file. "You broke your neck? How?"

"Bike Accident."

She held up an old x-ray to the light. "Must have been a hell of an accident. Looks like the C3 was smacked with a hammer. It's ground down too. What did the medics do to stabilize it?"

"They didn't. I was on the wrong side of the Berlin Wall so I took my socks, stuffed them with wool and tied them around my neck to make an improvised brace until I could get back to the West."

"Oh wow, that's cool. Your own socks?"

"Yes."

"Where did you get the wool?"

Silver's lips pursed a tiny bit. He did not want to tell her the truth, that he had cut it from the corpse of the East German security agent that had run him off the road. The same ewe that had slept with him the night before. Well, he admitted to himself, not exactly slept ... he shook his head to clear out the old memories that were welling up.

"There was a farm nearby."

"Oh, lucky. It's that arthritis that's causing the pain in your right arm, but I'll have to take you to the exercise room to put you on the stretcher for that. Meanwhile, let's get you striped to the waist on the massage table and see if we can't loosen up some of those other aches."

Silver rose. "You mind if I take this when I go?" He held up the gardening magazine.

"That old thing? Be my guest. You basically own everything in the place, anyway, being the Director and all."

"Not exactly," he smiled, "but I'll bring it back before I retire."

They moved into the massage room where Silver calmly took off his jacket and shirt.

"Sorry about the chill." Natasha apologised. "I was just airing out the room because ... it was getting stuffy." Then she saw the scars on his back and chest and exclaimed, "Oh, my!"

Natasha was used to seeing patients with injuries, stumps and scars, but the broad pink tortured flesh was too regular to be from an accident. The scars on his back looked like the twitter hashmark, and the ones on his chest resembled a stylized letter 'Z'.

She realized that she was staring and flushed under her white and grey fur. "I mean ... I'm sorry ... I had heard about ... do they ... do they bother you at all?"

"No. The Academy brought in a retired specialist in war wound recovery and he made sure that I did exercises to keep my full range of movement."

That peaked her professional interest. "Oh? Could I ask what exercises he had you doing?"

"Practical ones mostly, stuff I could work into my daily routine. Digging with a shovel, raking, lifting rocks, pushing a wheelbarrow."

"Sounds like landscaping."

"I prefer the term 'intense gardening'." He chuckled.

She remembered the magazine he wanted to take and wondered where he did his gardening and what they looked like. No matter, she thought, it was the effect of the activity on his body that mattered.

"Well," she told him, "he probably didn't know it at the time but some of those activities can contribute to the problem you have with your paw." She took his right paw and gripped it across the back as she made him open and close it several times. Doing so made the two smallest digits lock in place momentarily before snapping out with an audible 'click'.

"Massage will help restore the movement, followed by a cold pack to reduce the swelling. I'll give you one that you can take with you to put on whenever it feels sore or warm."

She patted the massage table. "Hop up here, lay down on your back and relax."

Silver looked sideways at the padded table but the leather looked clean enough. He got on and lay down as he was told. Natasha took his paw and began to rub and squeeze it between the metacarpals in a not unpleasant manner. He relaxed and let his mind drift as he usually did when being treated for minor wounds or while getting dental work.

Mostly he wondered how Vikki, Marcel and the new senior agents would fare on their assignments.

Kain Algorath © Marcus X Light

Ophelia Cassidy Sommer © Devil Kitty

Joel Grigori © Joel the Lemur

Geno © Coyotek

Dongo Fett © Dongo Fett

Zachary Ember © EmberWolf

Grey Muzzle © Grey Muzzle

Kyroo Echos © Kyroo Echos

Natasha Winters © EmberWolf

Violet © Gray Muzzle

Saira Rasielle © SilentRampancy

Carlos © Carlos the Penguin

Dante Draco © Dante Draco

Henk and Dunya © Henk Cobra

The FOX Academy series:

Book I - The New Breed

Book II - The Werewolf of Odessa

Book II.5 - The Love who Spied Me

Book III - The Curse of the Yellow Monkey

Book IV - Wait for No One

Book V - Dawn of Vengeance

Book VI - Unnatural Selection

Book VII - Rogue Sword

Book VIII - Firestorm

Book IX - Diamonds in the Rough

Book X - Agents Lounge

FOX Flashback Novels:

Scarlet Necklace

The Finland Express

Other FOX tales:

Accounts Payable

A gambler's Share

An Opus for a Penguin

Casino Naja

Daffodils

Deep Thunder

Fear

Hard at Work

It's a Wonderful Furry Life

La Vie en Rose

Life of the Party

Not a Bed of Roses

Rest Stop

The Dead of Night

The Mark of Cain

The Volunteer

When Worlds Collide (a FOX/MLP crossover)