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Nexus

Chapter Eleven: Standing with your Beard in the Mailbox

After testing the newly bugged jewellery it was decided that Dixie would wait a day before contacting Gunderson to accept his offer.

“You don’t want to look too anxious.” Ryan cautioned. “That would just make him suspicious.”

Flynn left them and went straight to work, continuing to inspect the clubs and cabarets that employed Humans, Furries and Anthros as strippers, masseuses and sex workers. Checking her schedule she noted that all of Gunderson’s clubs had been removed from it by Lieutenant Lawson, with no indication of when, if ever, they would be put back on.

An hour before calling it quits for the night she contacted her former Tactical Squad colleague, Chase, to see if he could come by her place.

“I’m already there.” He texted back. “You gave me a key, remember? I have a pot of chilli simmering away, awaiting your return.”

Flynn smiled to herself as she closed off her communications device. Most Anthros knew how to cook because restaurant food was a luxury only the well paid could afford. Her own grandmother claimed that she could whip up a feast with only a couple of dead rats and some spoiled vegetables from the bargain bin, but the talent had eluded Flynn. She could make a passable burger or stir-fried chicken if she added a store-bought sauce, but Chase had a flair for cooking, and his chilli was one of his best recipes.

Tactical worked on twelve-hour shifts, and Chase had switched to the three pm to three am shift to better match his hours to Flynn’s. This was their first night when both were back to work and since she usually worked until the clubs closed at four am it had given him time to cook up an elaborate and tasty diner, complete with shredded cheese, sour cream and buns he had warmed in the oven.

When they were full they silently decided to eschew the dishes for now in favour of a long, slow session of love making.

Flynn was happy to have Chase as a lover. The slightly younger Shepherd was eager, with the stamina of youth, but willing to pace himself and learn. On their first evening together they had initially made love ‘doggy’ style, because it felt more natural, but later she had rolled over on her back and let him take her face-to-face, like she had heard many of the humans did it.

She had seen a lot more in the clubs though, things that good canine mothers did not teach their daughters, probably because they were not aware of them. In the days that followed their first encounter Flynn had guided Chase through the joys of giving and receiving oral sex and introduced him to several new sexual positions.

The concept of foreplay was not widely known in the Anthro community, relying as they did on waiting for a female to enter their heat, whether that happened monthly as in later generation Anthros like Flynn or semi-annually for the less developed. It wasn’t a popular practice in the clubs either, where the human clients paid for quick action and the Anthro sex workers kept lube handy to ease the way.

Flynn had studied the subject, however, as part of her Human psychology course. Human sexuality was an optional module, but she figured that since Anthros like her were becoming more human in certain aspects with every successive generation it might be worth looking into.

One aspect of the generational change was that the Anthro sexual organs began to resemble their human counterparts in form and function. In Flynn’s case, that meant that her vulva and labia became slimmer and more parallel, unlike the almost triangular opening of the early generation Anthros when they were in heat. It also meant that estrus could be induced by manual stimulation, or in some instances, like her first night in the clubs, from visual stimulation alone.

The roll that the human clitoris played in inducing orgasms, and the degree of pleasure that the human brain experienced during climax, convinced her that a late generation Anthro such as herself could benefit from a partner skilled in foreplay.

It turned out that Chase was more than just a chef in the kitchen … he could really cook between the sheets as well.

At the moment he was laying on his side behind her, licking and nibbling on her ear, something she really liked, as did many canines. While her head was resting on his right arm his left was down between her legs, where he was using the clever digits the geneticists had gifted him to explore her twat and tease her swollen clit. She in turn was reaching behind and between them to stroke his erect cock, one that was from most aspects human in form, lacking a penile bone and including a foreskin that she loved to retract. He still retained a bit of a knot though, although it only showed when he was really excited.

They had made love like this once before. That time she had waited until she could barely stand it anymore before raising one leg and slipping his rock-hard cock inside her. He had locked his elbow behind her knee as he thrust into her repeatedly, her vulva threatening to lock around his small knot each time it popped inside her. They had finished that session locked together voluntarily, both reluctant to pull apart as his warm semen mixed with her salty fluids; fluids that her great-grandmother would likely have been unfamiliar with.

This time was different though. Something she had not thought of since taking up with Chase had entered her mind when she had glanced at her calendar during diner to see when next their days off coincided. It was a five-day period that was circled in red; the days when she would have naturally been in heat, and therefore capable of becoming pregnant.

She had been at the tail-end of her last fertile period when she had started sleeping with Chase, and they had taken precautions then, but after it passed they had become careless, to the point where he no longer habitually brought condoms with him, as was the case tonight.

She was unwilling to interrupt him though while his fingers were doing so well. I suppose he’ll just have to pull out, or not penetrate her at all, she supposed, unless …

“Chase, Honey …”

“Mhmm … yes?” He loved it when she called him Honey.

“I forgot what time of the month it was.”

He was silent for a moment, processing the meaning of her words. “Oh!” He said finally. “And we don’t have any … Okay, well … I guess … we should stop?”

“Not necessarily. There is something I read about, something some Humans like to do. I, uh, don’t know if it will feel the same for us … but we could give it a try.”

To clarify her meaning she began to rub the dripping end of his cock against the puckered hole below her tail.

“What? Oh! You mean ass stuff. I’ve … I’ve heard of that … back when the tactical Squad was all male … I mean … I never tried it … I mean that was before my time so I couldn’t have … I mean … I wouldn’t have …”

“Chase, Honey, we can discuss latent homosexual traits in male dominated trades later. For now, just shut up and pass me the tube of lube in the drawer of the night table behind you, okay?”

Chase complied, twisting his spine in a way that would have been impossible for a human to reach the drawer.

Flynn took the tube from him and squirted a liberal amount into his hand.

“How do we do this?” He asked, a trace of nervousness in his voice.

She recalled what she had read and seen in the rather clinical videos that came with her coursework.

“Digits first.” She instructed. “Slowly. I’ll let you know if it gets too uncomfortable.”

“Okay.” He said, returning his palm to her crotch.

His fingers returned to rubbing her clit, which was lubricating itself with the juices her twat was producing. Most of the lube was on his palm, so he rubbed his free thumb in it, making sure that all sides were coated before he tentatively touched the puckered hole below her tail. She jerked away involuntarily at the first contact but forced herself to relax and press her tailhole against his probing digit.

It was strange, at first, but then it began to feel good. Rubbing the sensitive ring of flesh made it swell and protrude a bit. Like most police officers Chase kept his claws trimmed short and blunt, least he accidentally scratch a perp and be accused of assault. The rounded end of his claw slid easily into the small hole, making a passage for his wider thumb.

He rolled his thumb and worked it in slowly, as he had when she introduced him to fingering her twat as foreplay. She grit her teeth, surprised at how much more sensitive the flesh inside was compared to the outer ring. It seemed that the father he went and the more flesh that was exposed the more intense it felt.

Was that the attraction, she wondered? Is that what drew gay men and some women to the practice? Chase’s fingers were still working her clit and one digit was buried deep inside her vagina so that just added to the pleasure she was experiencing. Were there similar things that males could do to each other that would aid in the stimulation? She would have to re-read that chapter.

The enjoyment increased as Chase’s thumb went deeper, making her breath ragged, especially when the broad base stretched her tailhole to its limits … but she thought it could go father.

“Put it in me, Chase.” She gasped. “Put your cock in my ass.”

He pulled his thumb out and took his fingers from her twat. Reaching over her he grabbed the tube of lube and squeezed another portion into his palm. He rubbed that into his stiff cock, mixing it with the pre-cum that had been leaking from the tip for some time now. When it was slick and ready he used his hand to guide the tip to her still open tailhole.

His cock resembled a man’s, but the tip was narrower and more tapered than the Human ones she had seen in the textbooks and in the clubs. She guessed that his Anthro ancestry was not quite as deep as hers, maybe a couple of generations closer to feral than she was. Regardless, the tapered tip helped him penetrate her tailhole smoothly, much easier than a thick blunt human cock would have.

He slid it in just a bit at first, widening her hole a little while sending a jolt of pleasure up her spine. The next time he went a little deeper, then deeper again. He moved slowly, plunging his shaft further and wider with each delicious push. Her hips were writhing from the sensation and her experienced hand had taken over his duty on her twat, rubbing her clit in just the right way and at the perfect speed to match his thrusts.

He had both his arms wrapped around her, one underneath her torso and the other under the arm she was using to rub herself. He was squeezing her breasts, rhythmically and forcefully, but not painfully. Her nipples were standing up through the fur of her ruff, hard and proud. She could even feel the six vestigial nipples on her abdomen getting hard.

Now his cock was as deep as it could go, and his knot felt bigger than it ever had as it bumped against her. It slammed against her ass as his thrusts came faster and harder. Her tailhole felt wonderful both inside where his shaft rubbed the sensitive flesh and outside where his knot pressed against the distended ring of her anus.

Suddenly his knot popped inside her, and her ring closed tightly around its base. He fought to withdraw it for a moment before surrendering to its grip. Instead of continuing to thrust he twisted his cock inside her and continued to do so even as he came deep in her ass.

Rubbing her clit frantically she came too a moment later. A spray of hot fluid that smelled like copper to her sensitive nose shot out between her furry fingers. Her hand slowed on her twat as Chase’s spasms tapered off behind her, but she experienced several mini-orgasms before they both stopped moving.

They lay still and silent except for their heavy breathing for almost twenty minutes, dizzy from the lack of blood supply to their brains until the swelling of their sex organs abated.

When his knot had shrunken enough for him to disengage she rolled over to face him.

“That was wonderful, Chase,” she said as she drew little circles in his chest fur with one claw, “but now I have a favour to ask of you.”

Chase looked scared. “You’re not going to suggest pegging, are you?”

Flynn laughed so hard she had to bury her face in his ruff; evidently, he was not as ignorant of fringe sexual practices as she had thought.

“No.” She said when she could catch her breath. “But you may prefer that to what I’m about to propose.”

* * * * * * * *

By the time Flynn woke up the next day Chase had already left for work. Since she did not have to put in as many hours as he did per shift she still had some time before she had to hit the clubs.

She reviewed her comms, both official and personal, while she warmed up some of Chase’s left-over chilli for breakfast. The messages from the Force were routine administrative notices. Most of her personal messages were from Chase; it was a slow day at tactical and he was sending multiple sweet audio messages to thank her for the night before, but she could detect a hint of nervousness in his voice. There was one message from an unidentified sender, however, simply stating that the letter had been delivered.

Since she had never sent a letter ever in her life it must be referring to a letter for her. Going down to the lobby she found an unmarked envelope in her mailbox. Retrieving it, she returned to her apartment and locked all the locks and closed all the drapes before opening it.

It contained a crude flyer that someone had made up and printed on a home computer by all appearances. It was advertising musical acts that she was unfamiliar with.

Looking up the artists, she discovered that they were all prominent performers from the early twentieth century. They were all associated with a genre known as Traditional Jazz, or Dixieland Jazz. She checked the address on the flyer. A quick search revealed that it was a warehouse in the Anthro district, not too far from her apartment actually. A deeper search using Clark’s backdoor into the Police database revealed that it was owned by a company that was controlled by a corporation whose major stockholder was a numbered company associated with one Noah Gunderson.

She read the flyer more carefully.

‘The ensemble will be touring your fair city at this venue on Wednesday only, from nine to eleven PM.’, it stated. ‘Attendance is limited to a strict few so make your plans today!’

So, Dixie had managed to get Gunderson to give her a tour of his facilities, Flynn surmised. According to the plan it was her job to provide a background on the facility, conduct a reconnaissance and select tentative positions for the recording and relay equipment so that the evidence would survive, even if they did not.

Internal Affairs would be the ones to investigate if they were found dead or disappeared, not the Detective Division, so she would also have to create a space on the cloud to store the information and leave just enough of a digital trail for them to discover it without being obvious to people like Lawson. She would need Clark’s help for that. He was back in town and had been trying to contact her as it was near the time of month that she usually required his assistance in other ways. She had been avoiding him, but she would have to force herself to face him and tell him not only had she found someone else to satisfy those needs, but that she still needed his computer expertise.

She just hoped that she would not have to let Clark butt fuck her too to get his cooperation as the Great Dane was much bigger than Chase and she did not think her poor tailhole could take it.

Flynn sighed and sat down at her home workstation to start working.

The first thing she noticed was that the warehouse in question was surrounded by other properties that ultimately lead back to Gunderson or his affiliates. The gang boss was heavily invested in the Anthro District it seemed, and he had his fingers in a number of enterprises related to not only the sex trade but to the childcare industry as well. He owned or controlled interests in Anthro and furry orphanages and foster homes, daycare centres and training institutes for destitute young females.

A picture was starting to emerge, and Flynn suspected that that Gunderson was recruiting Dixie to help provide a steady supply of undocumented Furry children to the sex trade that he could pass off as Anthros … but why? Why, when he could import as many early generation Anthros as he could fit in a cargo container. Why wait for pups or kittens to grow up when he could recruit the destitute offspring of the slum that he owned so much of?

He had covered his tracks well, but Clark’s algorithms had penetrated his online defences and identified all of his many enterprises. The only advantage she could see was that because Gunderson had covered his tracks so well that there were a number of clubs and cabarets other gangs controlled in the vicinity of the warehouse that Lawson had not struck from the schedule. She could hide her Police comms device outside one of them while she went to check out the warehouse, and Lawson would not be the wiser.

After another fifteen minutes of research and planning Flynn closed her workstation. She took a quick shower and a longer blow-dry before donning the harness that held her service pistol and other essential gear. Tonight though, instead of her habitual three-piece suit she covered it all with an old, ill-fitting track suit, the kind that the local street denizens were likely to wear.

Taking a deep breath, she reached for the locks on her door, hoping that Ryan knew what he was doing … and what he was making her do.

* * * * * * * *

On Tuesday, the day before Dixie’s appointment with Gunderson, Flynn brought the results of her research and reconnaissance to the Furry’s condo so they could finalize their plans. Dixie was nervous about just the two of them taking on Gunderson and Lawson, if the Police Lieutenant actually showed.

“You do know that he always has those two Wolf-men with him, right?”

“I think that Flynn and I can take care of those two.” Ryan assured her. “Gunderson never carries a gun himself; doesn’t wasn’t to get his hands dirty, and Lawson is a terrible shot. He’ll probably shit himself if the bullets start flying. Flynn will be in full tactical gear and I’ll have body armour on under my jacket just in case. You just remember to hit the deck when the guns come out, okay?”

Flynn shared her worry, but she Chase as a hidden ace up her sleeve that would improve the odds greatly, so she stayed silent on the matter.

“So, are we on for tomorrow night?” She asked, looking at Dixie rather than Ryan.

Ryan looked at his Furry paramour too. She dropped her eyes, nodded and answered, “Yeah, we’re on.”

“Tomorrow then.” Flynn said then she turned to leave. “And god save us for fools.” She mumbled under her breath as she stepped through the door.

* * * * * * * *

On Wednesday, the day of the sting, Flynn went into the office she once shared with Ryan in the afternoon as she usually did. Not surprisingly, Lieutenant Lawson drooped by soon after she arrived.

The Human they suspected of being the mole had made it a habit to drop by whenever she was in the station. He told her that it was just part of his duty as her supervisor, but Flynn suspected that there might be more to it. His forced casual conversation and the looks he gave her when he thought she wasn’t watching reminded her of one of the instructors at the Academy that had a thing for Anthros. She had put up with a lot of unnecessary touching and a few lewd suggestions but managed to defect the fellow long enough to graduate. Afterwards, she and others had made anonymous complaints to the Supervisor and last she had heard the guy had been reassigned to traffic duty on the edge of town.

Similarly, Flynn avoided getting sucked into personal conversations with Lawson and avoided his suggestion that they meet someplace after work “for a little team building”, as he put it.

We’ll get the goods on him or die trying, she told herself, but either way I won’t have to put up with this guy anymore after tonight. She just hoped that it went as planned … and with her little addition it should.

Lawson must have seen the look of disgust that flashed across her face before she got it under control, because he asked her what was bothering her.

“Ah, it’s Sergeant Ryan.” She said, rolling her eyes. “He won’t leave me alone. He keeps trying to get me involved with that scheme of his to get Gunderson.”

“Oh?” Lawson’s brows went up over his round glasses. “How so? Has he been contacting you on his personal comms device?”

Flynn knew that the Department was monitoring Ryan’s communications and would know if he had contacted her that way, so she suspected that this was a trap.

“No. He keeps leaving notes in my mailbox, telling me the evidence that he claims to have found. Like today for instance. He wrote that he had found out about a mole in the Department. He said that the proof was in some warehouse in the Anthro District and that he was going there tonight to get it from Gunderson one way or another. He wanted me to join him there, but there is no way I’m getting involved with that shit. His delusions have gotten me into enough trouble already.”

His eyes narrowed and his lips pursed like he was kissing grandparent. “You have this note still?”

“Hell no, I don’t keep those things! If Internal Affairs found them on me I’d be in the same boat as Ryan. Fortunately,” she said, laying a hand on his arm, “I’ve got a more understanding supervisor now.”

She let her hand linger and watched his face as the analytical side of his brain fought with the side where desire resides.

Self preservation interceded and Lawson finally asked, “Do you remember where this warehouse is?”

“Not the specific address, but it’s on one-hundred and first near Thirty-eighth street … I think.”

She could see from the way that his eyes dilated that he was familiar with the location.

“Don’t worry about it.” Lawson said as he backed out of the office, suddenly in a rush to leave. “Just, uh, stick to your schedule and stay away from Ryann … if you know what’s good for you.”

Flynn would have acknowledged his warning, but the Lieutenant was already gone.

The ducks are flying to the decoy, she thought as she rushed to gather her things and get out of the building before Lawson thought to follow up with more questions. Now to set up the hunting blind.

* * * * * * * *

The tactical Squad’s station was near the docks on the river, a convenient central location where they could scramble to any part of the city with minimal delay. Their spacious compound included an operations Centre, ready rooms, training facilities … and an armoury.

Chase’s shift had ended the day before, so the Weapon’s Supervisor was surprised to see the German Shepherd in full tactical gear, more so when the canine Anthro handed him a request to withdraw several heavy weapons and a fair amount of ammunition for them.

“Whatcha doin’?” The old cop asked after reading the request. “Goin’ duck hunting?”

Chase laughed nervously. “Uhm, no, no. Just wanted to get some practice in on the new assault rifles in a realistic setting. That’s why I have the full gear on, you see? So I’ll know how to handle those babies under, uhm, practical conditions.”

He wasn’t used to lying, but the Weapon’s Supervisor was used to requests like this from Tactical Officers that wanted to move up in the ranks. “Take my advice, Chase.” He said as he began to pull rifles down off the rack behind him and pass them through the hole in the steel mesh. “You want to practice all you can if’n you wants to apply for a position as Team Leader. You got’s ta be better than the best o’ the best, especially an Anthro like yourself. Here,” he added as he stacked magazines and boxes of bullets on the counter, “take a couple o’ extra boxes on me. They’s leftovers from the regular range practice sessions.”

Chase thanked the man, placing the assault rifles in a black canvas bag before loading his pockets with ammunition. “I’ll uh, bring back anything I don’t use.”

The man just waved a dismissive hand in the air and went back to watching whatever it was he had on his monitor. Chase turned, dropped the false smile from his face and reached for the door that would take him to the main corridor and the exit.

Just another minute and I’m home free, he thought. If going to meet your lover with a bag full of guns on an unauthorized raid could be considered home free, he added, keeping his head down to avoid eye contact with anyone that might ask him what he was doing in the Station when he was supposed to be off duty.

It wasn’t until he ran head on into someone much larger than him that he realized he wasn’t looking where he was going.

The first thing he saw when his head cleared was a row of shiny brass buttons, then a large gold badge, a Detective badge, topped by several rows of undress ribbons. Looming over it all was a face wearing a very suspicious look, under a dress cap that had more braid than an Admiral’s hat.

“Ch- … Chief Fanning!” Chase sputtered. “Wh- what brings you here?”

“I should be asking you that question, Officer Chase.”

Chase looked down at his feet, where the bag full of guns had landed with a clatter when he dropped it and where a dozen or so rounds of ammunition that had escaped his pockets were rolling about.

He looked back up at the taller Human.

“This isn’t what it looks like Chief.”

“Oh, it looks exactly like what it is, officer. Now, what do you say we go into that interrogation room over there for a nice chat … hmmm?”

The Deputy Chief of Detectives put a strong arm around Chase’s shoulders and reached down for the bag full of assault rifles before steering the canine officer towards the open door of the nearby interrogation room. He did not say a word as they walked.

On the other hand, Officer Chase could be heard muttering the word “shit” over and over all the way into the room.

* * * * * * * *

Ryan did not have a car of his own. He had lost it in the divorce that led to the bender that had landed him in rehab. Dixie did not own a car either, but she said she could get one to take them into the warehouse district deep inside Anthro territory.

“A ride share?” Ryan asked, sceptically. Most of the driverless car hires that worked the rich neighbourhoods like hers would not let one of their cars be taken into the Anthro District for fear of theft or vandalism. Some of the gangs there could strip a vehicle down to nothing but the chassis and the geolocator in less than a minute.

“No. Someone I can trust.” She assured him as she led him down the back stairs to the service entrance Flynn used to attend their clandestine meetings.

Ryan was not entirely surprised to see the old black doorman behind the wheel of a long dark car with tinted windows. The man got out of the car and held the rear door open for them.

“Let’s check the transmission.” Ryan suggested, feeling the driver’s eyes on him in the rearview mirror.

“Check, check. Testing.” Dixie said, leaning down and speaking close to her bugged bracelets.

“Just sit up and talk naturally.” Ryan told her as he adjusted the volume in his earpiece.

“Antonio Ryan has a big dick.” She said, leaning back with a smile. “And his tongue is as tricky as …”

“That’s good.” Ryan interrupted hastily, watching the driver’s eyes narrow dangerously.

The car pulled over in an alley near the warehouse. It was an old brick building that must have been built over two hundred years ago, when the city was a bustling centre of commerce. The big windows designed to let in the light had mostly been bricked over. They could see the entrance across the road from the alley entrance.

“Gunderson said to just knock on the door?” Ryan asked, although he already knew the answer.

“Yeah.” Dixie said, lighting a cigarette that she had produced from inside her purse.

The driver frowned as the smell of tobacco filled the vehicle, but he said nothing.

“Okay.” Ryan said. “Flynn should be in her hide with the uplink running by now. As soon as I see you go in I’ll get out and place the signal amplifier near the building so that she can get a good signal. I’ll monitor it from right outside and be ready to rush in the instant we have enough to convict him.”

“And if he doesn’t implicate himself?” She asked nervously.

“Then just play along and get out of there as soon as you can. We’ll retreat back to your place and figure out what our next step will be there.”

“Okay.” She said, rolling down the window to flick her cigarette butt out into the alley. “It’s a little early, but I’ll head in now.”

“Wait!” the driver warned in a deep baritone. “There is someone coming.”

“Who’s that?” Dixie asked as a short, slim Human in a black trench coat and a wide-brimmed hat approached the warehouse.

“That’s Lawson.” Ryan confirmed as a grin spread across his face. “I’d recognize that weasel walk of his anywhere. He took the bait and came to warn Gunderson that I’m on to him. His presence while Gunderson explains what he wants you for will just incriminate him all the more.”

They watched as Lawson knocked at the warehouse door. It opened a moment later and the Lieutenant slipped inside.

Dixie looked up at Ryan, her eyes shining in the dimness. “You sure about this Tony?”

Ryan took her furry chin in his big hand and planted a quick kiss on her forehead. “I’m sure. We won’t go in unless we have reason to and when we do we’ll get the drop on them quick so’s there’s no gun play. I’d never do anything to hurt you, babe.”

Dixie looked reassured, but from the daggers being cast from the eyes of the driver Ryan could see that the old black man, for one, was not convinced.

Dixie gave him a quick but passionate kiss then exited the car. Outside in the alley she paused to light another cigarette before heading slowly towards the warehouse.

“If anything happens to Miss Dixie …” the driver warned.

“What is it with you and her, anyway?” Ryan asked, frustrated.

“I was the butler in the Lee household for three generations, including the time when Miss Dixie was growing up.” The man answered.

“So, you knew what her father was doing to her?”

“I suspected, long before her mother did, or admitted to.” The old man said sadly. “I did what I could to protect her but, to my regret, I was not brave enough to confront Mister Lee … or report him to the police.”

“When Miss Dixie was old enough to leave her father’s house I gave my notice, collecting a fair sum after re-signing the non-disclosure agreement that my pension depended on. To make up for my cowardice I took the job as the doorman of her condominium at minimum wage so that I could stay close to her and protect her from him ... from herself … and from any others that might hurt her.”

Ryan was about to ask if the man considered him one of those when the sound of knocking came through his earpiece.

“She’s at the door.” He said.

There was a muffled inquiry from a speaker mounted beside the door. Dixie stated her name and that mister Gunderson was expecting her. There was a short buzzing sound followed by a loud click. They watched as Dixie pulled the door open and went inside. The door swung closed behind her … and then there was nothing but silence.

“Shit.” Ryan exclaimed. “The building is shielded.”

“Shielded?” the driver asked.

“Lined with lead or copper mesh to prevent transmissions from going in or out.” Ryan said as he gathered his equipment. “Probably to prevent police monitoring. Not the kind of thing you spend money on for an ordinary warehouse.”

“Increasing the likelihood that illegal activity is taking place inside.” The driver observed.

“You got that right.” Ryan said as he opened the door and stepped out. “Pull the car back to the other end of the alley and stay out of the way. You don’t want to be inside the perimeter that the reinforcements will set up when we call them in. Some of those tactical guys might mistake you for one of Gunderson’s goons and they can be pretty rough before they establish one’s innocence, if you know what I mean.”

“I understand.” The driver acknowledged as he put the car in gear and turned to guide it back, deeper into the alley. “Prejudice has not entirely disappeared from this world.”

Ryan watched the car disappear into the gloom. Once it was out of view he touched his ear to activate the electronic devices he was wearing and spoke.

“You there Flynn?”

“Roger that.” Came back through the earpiece. “I’m set up, but I’m not picking anything up from Dixie’s transmitters yet.”

“Yeah, we got a problem there. The building appears to be shielded. I’m going to have to get the signal amplifier right up against the wall to pick up her transmission.”

“Can you do that without being seen?”

He studied the building for a moment before relying.

“There isn’t any obvious surveillance, but I’ll put on a show just in case.”

Before leaving the darkness of the alley he turned up the collar of his coat, set his hat on an awkward angle and pulled his tie out and threw it over one shoulder. Then, staggering in what he hoped was a good imitation of himself when he was on a bender, he stumbled on a zig-zag path that eventually took him to what looked like one of the bricked-up ground floor windows of the warehouse. There was a clay pipe below it, probably part of the original storm drain system. It looked like a good place to hide the amplifier.

He was just getting down on one knee to place it when he heard the sound of a firearm being cocked behind him.

Staying down, he turned his head slowly to look over his shoulder.

His eyes travelled up from two pairs of expensive leather shoes and two identical black, tailored suits, past the gloved hands clutching short automatic weapons and the broad chests to rest on heads with long snouts covered with grey fur. Gunderson’s bodyguards, he realized. Furries, by the fact that their feet fit in regular shoes. Flynn taught me that, he thought briefly, as his mind raced to figure a way out of this predicament.

He switched the amplifier to his left hand while his body was blocking their view of his hands before turning and reaching under his jacket with his right, as if he was drawing a gun from a shoulder holster. As expected, instead of firing on him the nearest wolf Furry simply kicked him in the jaw, knocking him down against the side of the building and forcing his arm away from his shoulder holster.

Ryan could feel the pipe against his left side, and as the two wolves reached to pull him up he shoved the amplifier deep inside it.

He let the Furries pat him down, relieving him of his off-duty gun and a knife he had taped to his leg before they half-carried him to the door of the warehouse. Without saying a word, the door buzzed open for them, proving that there was indeed some sort of camera system monitoring the entrance.

“Nice surveillance on the door.” He said, to let Flynn know the situation.

“Shaddup.” The wolf to his right said, emphasizing the order with the butt of his machine gun.

Ryan heard the door of the warehouse slam behind them, and he prayed that the signal amplifier was deep enough in the pipe to pick up his signal.

* * * * * * * *

A block away, in a small alcove behind a wall of cardboard boxes, Flynn was frowning and wondering if she should call in the reinforcements now.

She should not have had to worry. Ryan had anticipated that the warehouse might be a trap. He even figured that his presence would get Gunderson talking, boasting about his scheme and how he had beaten Ryan again. She suspected that the Detective Sergeant was even willing to risk his own life to get the old Viking talking, but she didn’t think that he would risk Dixie’s.

But she was worried. For one thing, she still did not entirely trust the Furry feline. She suspected that once inside the warehouse Ryan might find that his lover was quite comfortable with Gunderson’s plans for her. She had tried to impress that on Ryan but he had just shrugged it off.

“If she is on his side he won’t be able to resist rubbing it in my face. Even if she tells him about the bugs and he deactivates her transmitters I’ll still have mine running. Just make sure you get it all on the record before calling in the Calvary.”

And that was another thing worrying her. Chase was supposed to be here by now with enough firepower to overwhelm Gunderson and his bodyguards. They would not stand a chance against two fully-trained tactical officers in assault gear with the latest projectile weapons, especially with the promise of more on the way, but her lover had failed to show. Why? She wondered. Was he having problems getting the weapons? He could have still come with just his off-duty pistol. Had he chickened out?

Her final worry was that the signal amplifier would not be good enough to pick up Ryan’s transmission from inside. She had not heard a thing since his comment about the surveillance on the entrance. She glanced at her wrist, amazed to find that only a minute had passed since then. Still, she thought, maybe I should call for backup now.

Just then her receiver crackled to life.

“Ah, detective Sergeant Ryan.” A deep voice said clearly through the channel his transmitter was on. “We finally meet face to face.”

* * * * * * * *

Inside the warehouse one of the wolves held Ryan from behind in an iron grip while the other handed his off-duty gun to the big Norwegian.

Gunderson flicked the cylinder open to verify that all six chambers were loaded before he closed it and put the pistol in the pocket of his jacket. Behind him Lieutenant Lawson was holding Dixie by one arm, frowning at Ryan as if this was all the Sergeant’s fault. A short, round man in a lab coat was standing off to one side. He looked unperturbed by the presence of armed Furries and hostages.

After pocketing Ryan’s gun Gunderson’s face lit up in a smile.

“Ah, Detective Seargeant Ryan.” He said. “We finally meet face to face.”

There was a pause while the wolf in front of him removed his bulletproof vest then took out a wand and waved it up and down Ryan’s body. It beeped several times, and each time it did the other wolf removed whatever it was that had set it off. After a few moments Ryan’s personal comms device, his cufflinks and his tie pin were all in the big man’s palm.

Gunderson dropped the bugged items to the floor at his feet. Ryan looked down and saw that Dixie’s altered jewellery was there too, although it had all been crushed. Gunderson lifted one heavy foot and brought it down repeatedly onto Ryan’s items, breaking them and grinding the remains into the concrete.

“Now we can talk in peace, am I not correct?” The gang leader said as he waved at his bodyguards to back away a bit. “This is the first time we have met in person, Sergeant. Why is that?”

“Luck, I guess.” Ryan said, trying to stay nonchalant. “You seemed to know that I was coming tonight though.” He added, studying Dixie’s face.

Gunderson followed his glance. “She did not tell me. She didn’t have to. I knew of course that you were shagging her and suspected that you might involve her in your schemes.” He stepped up to Ryan, slightly taller but much heavier, and challenged the Detective with his eyes.

“You thought to catch me with my beard in the mailbox, didn’t you Sergeant Ryan? But it seems that I am the first man to mill, eh?”

“Could you try that in English?” Ryan said as he adjusted his clothes after the intrusive search.

Dixie spoke up from behind Gunderson. “He means that you tried to put him in an uncomfortable situation, but he’s won out over you.” She pulled her arm away from Lawson’s grip and stepped up beside the big Norwegian. “He’s always spouting old Norse saying like that, so I looked a few up.”

Ryan’s face fell. “Are you with him now, Dixie?”

Gunderson’s face took on a knowing grin, but it dissolved when Dixie barked out a laugh. “This fat old fart? What do you take me for? A kitten straight out of the box? Sheesh, Ryan, I thought you of all people would know better.”

The look of disappointment left Gunderson’s face, replaced by his usual assured smile.

“Don’t be so quick to choose sides, Miss Dixie. You have yet to hear my offer, and I can be quite persuasive.” With a jerk of his massive head one of the wolves stepped up behind Dixie and stuck the muzzle of his gun into her back.

“Now, follow me and I will educate you both as to the beautiful simplicity of my operation.”

Gunderson took Dixie by the upper arm in a firm grip that she could shake off, then he gestured to the man in the lab coat and his bodyguards to follow, but before he took two steps Lawson cut him off.

“Look,” the smaller man said, “I don’t need to know what you do with them. I should leave now and, uh, preserve a degree of deniability.”

Gunderson just laughed in the Lieutenant’s face. “I insist that you join us.” He said as he pushed the smaller man aside and stepped around him. “Accessories to the fact are much less likely to talk, I find. And while you are here you can be useful by holding your gun on Sergeant Ryan. My wolves have another job to do.”

Lawson pulled a small automatic out of his waistband and stepped behind Ryan as the wolves turned to leave.

“Now, Doctor. Please explain for our guests what we are up to here.”

* * * * * * * *

In her hide Flynn was checking her equipment when the wall of boxes was suddenly swept aside, revealing two Furry wolves with automatic weapons.

“Shit”