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Sean sat on the edge of the bed in the curtain hued gloom of dawn and watched the sleeping dogs in the opposite bed, his thoughts too chaotic to give him any peace in his rest. He was envious of Oda and Lazarus sleeping in akimbo sprawls upon the bed they shared, all too apparently unconcerned about the day to come. Sean's stomach was aflutter and knotted in anxiety. He had never considered a military career, the idea of entering conflict of any sort that could involve firepower of any kind left him cold.

Not that he considered himself a coward, by any means, but the stress of armed conflict was not how he wanted to live his life. In that he could only respect the two male canines slumbering nearby. Behind him Taws was similarly relaxed, one arm thrown up over her head so that only a black glisten surrounded by short white fur peeked from beneath the orange and tan fur of her arm. As he gazed down at her somnolent form her fingers twitched and the pink flash of her tongue slipped out to lap at her nose. Tall ears twitched above her concealing arm, legs twitching and pawing under the blankets in the depths of some unknown dream.

When he brought his gaze back around he found Oda's eyes open watching him. The calm, predatory regard sent a shiver up Sean's spine yet again. Unlike the golden gaze of Taws and her brother, Oda's stare was altogether wilder; more penetrating. Meeting Sean's startled gaze the wolf smiled softly, but that did nothing to lessen the intensity of his regard. Turning slowly he lowered his legs, unclad of the sweats he had worn the previous night, and stood slowly without disturbing the collie sleeping behind him. Drawing himself upright in a languid stretch the wolf shook himself, a brief stark flash of pink appearing from the all too obvious ridge of his sheath. He twitched his head toward the door before stooping to scoop up his pants and Sean slid out of bed, equally bereft of clothing and, for once, feeling no more self-conscious of that fact than Oda appeared.

Dressing quietly in their clothes from the night before they slipped silently out of the room. "Let's grab food, pup."

"Coffee, snowballs, coffee is all important." Sean joked with a stretch and a crick of his back.

"Why do you call me this 'snowballs'?" the wolf grunted, padding on silent feet down the hallway beside Sean whose dress shoes hissed with each step.

The human grinned and tapped his nearest arm with one hand, "White wolf, white balls." He quipped as Oda glanced sidelong at them, "Snowballs!" Oda groaned and cupped a powerful paw over his muzzle with a shake of his head.

They returned to find Lazarus yawning as he sat on the bed and Taws securely closed away in the restroom. Setting the table they all sat down to a quiet breakfast not discussing the day ahead but enjoying the food and the company. And, as well, the copious coffee Sean made sure to procure. Once finished they each took a turn in the shower and prepared themselves for the trial ahead.

Taking out his cell phone Sean found that Bryant's later texts had a number associated with them so he chose to reply.

This is it, if you are prepared. What do we need to do?

Clients are served in the afternoon, so come to the Mine then. Bryant replied a few minutes later. I will add the dogs to the client list, with your girl as sole servitor, 3pm. East coast upper crust so your accents fit, dress well.

"We'll hit the local Office, they'll get us the appropriate attire." Lazarus observed over his third cup of coffee, "How about you two?"

"We'll leave you boys in the dust." Taws smiled. Many of the establishments they frequented while out on the town in New York had rather stringent dress codes so Sean and Taws had a ready supply of overpriced clothing. Sean glanced at the clock which read half past ten in the morning. In four and a half hours his life would change, for better or worse; he could feel it.

He just hoped that they survived going up against organized crime and stealing their proclaimed property.

Sean and Taws stayed behind at the hotel while Lazarus and Oda left to procure clothing. Sean could not find any ease to his anxiety, even at Taws' gentle teasing, and sat at the table brooding with worry in his fine gray suit. It was certainly nothing that he would wear to the office but blended in nicely with the who's who of New York society. Taws was resplendent in a deep red gown cut up either side almost to her hips that, she explained, would let her run full out if she needed to.

He hoped she did not.

He found a small modicum of relaxation as she sat between his knees on the edge of the bed and let him groom her head fur to immaculate perfection, letting it lay free rather than bound up in some complex style. He had become something of a descent hair - or, rather, fur - dresser since they had met; enough to let her pass for coiffured in public. The two males returned a couple of hours later with their change of wardrobe carried in dry cleaning bags. Sean was pressed into grooming Oda while Taws took charge of making her brother's wild mane of marbled fur presentable.

Lazarus switched from his casual garb into a stark black half-tuxedo that hung open down the front to his mid chest allowing his copious throat ruff to spill free. Oda dressed himself in a fine suit of white with the most subtle of gray highlights that matched his arctic pelt spectacularly. The two males secreted their service pistols in purposely tailored holsters worked into the front of their slacks. The telltale bulges disappeared entirely into the hollow between their hips and sheaths. Together the finely appointed quartet paced in silent sobriety down the hallways of the Azure Blue and piled into Lazarus' beast of a truck that had been detailed to a blinding polish by the hotel garage staff.

Sean was let out a block away from the Mine so that he would not be seen entering with them and walked the rest of the way, mulling his thoughts. For a time he considered pulling out, he considered not putting himself to the very real risk that liberating Ashley represented, but he kept putting one foot in front of the other. Ashley no longer had any hold on him; she was just a person. But she was a person in need and her only way out was through Sean, and the three canines who had joined him. Two of them were, effectively, strangers. Yet they chose to undertake the dangerous task for their own reasons on nothing more than Sean's explanation of Ashley's situation; nothing more than a few texts.

At his behest they were putting their lives on the line. Taws was putting her life on the line -- to rescue his ex-girlfriend of all people -- and that left Sean feeling hollow and shallow. She was no more a combatant than Sean was, yet she faced danger with far more aplomb. He could not fail them with a cowardly retreat to hide in the corner while they put it all on the line.

Finding himself before the lobby doors of the Mine he took a deep breath, tugged the hem of his expensively tailored suit, and strode in past the uniformed goat holding the door for him. As he passed through the lobby, through the throng of low yield, low stakes slots and tourist hubbub he took out his phone.

We're here.

I see. At 2:45 go to the blue elevator. Rear right of the main floor. Take it to the seventh floor. Bryant answered almost immediately. Sean milled through the chaos of the gambling floor, pausing to place a few half-hearted wagers. Despite winning respectably at blackjack he came out a thousand dollars poorer by the time he glanced at his watch seconds before its alarm, lost in the casino roar, beeped. Walking to the elevator he stepped in with a handful of other tourists and rode it to the seventh floor.

It proved to be some sort of service floor; there were no rooms for people staying at the hotel. Service carts were parked along the walls in various states of readiness. Hotel staff, most of them some manner of animal or other, wandered the hallway going about their normal tasks. They studiously avoided looking at him, most casting their gazes down or away, and busied themselves with more animation as he stood just outside of the elevator doors.

Dogs are on the move. Go right, six doors, across from the cargo elevator. Use the keycard on the unmarked door. Bryant texted while he surveyed the hallway. _Once inside use the other phone; this one will not have signal. _ Pacing down the hallway Sean tried to act imperious but his stomach was a knotted burn in his gut. He forced passing staff to move out of his way simply by walking in a direct line. None spoke but all hastened to get move from his path. Whatever they thought he was it was clear that he was no employee of the hotel yet no one challenged his being in an area reserved for staff. He saw the cargo elevator and, opposite it, found the white door Bryant had mentioned. There was a security lock, typical of hotel doors everywhere he had ever stayed, and opened it with a quick slip of the key card.

He found himself in a relatively large room that hummed with electronics. Every wall was packed tight with rack after rack of densely cabled boxes. Multitudes of colored wires in a seemingly endless variety snaked from box to box and rack to rack. He saw a single desk crammed between two racks supporting a small computer workstation. Discarded food wrappers and cups littered the desk and the overflowing waste bin beside it. A single chair was pushed back from it a short distance. Taking the walkie-talkie phone from his pocket he waited for Bryant's next move.

A short time later it rang and he answered. "Okay, Sean. This is the casino's network, but a direct line between you and me, so we can talk without worry. The room your in is electronically shielded. I'm also in contact with the one named Lazarus, but you won't be able to hear them. I don't have any video feed in there so you'll have to follow my instructions implicitly; move the wrong wire and the entire security room will light up like a damn Christmas tree."

"I'm ready." Sean answered with the phone against his ear. "What do you want me to do?"

"Okay, good. They're just coming into the Foreman's Room. What I need you to do is switch a couple of wires, push a button, and get the hell out." Bryant's voice was an edgy growl showing that Sean was not the only one under tension. He could only imagine the pressure that the border collie was under; he was putting his neck squarely on the chopping block by crossing his boss, and the entire organization that he had helped shape. "Go stand in front of the workstation."

"Already there. I see a login prompt."

"Ignore that. Look to your right." The collie's voice whispered in his ear. "Move two racks over on the same wall as the desk. Once you're there you're going to be looking at a wall rack of mostly thin, yellow cables."

Sean moved over to stand in front of the rack, noticing that it was busy with removable hard drives all cabled to a couple of rails by the aforementioned yellow wires. "Got it."

"Okay, find the third rail down from the top. It's a single piece, not an array of smaller devices, and a slew of cables go to it. You're looking for a short wire coming from the leftmost port; it goes down to a black box right below. You three mingle for a few minutes; get a drink at the bar." Sean presumed that the last was directed at the others. "You can chat openly about the expected entertainments; most of the people in there are familiar with where the Red elevator goes. You are expected to as well.

"Okay, Sean. Below that wire is a locked plastic plate; your key card will fit into the slot beneath it. Put it in and leave it, that will unlock the cover. That black case below it is one of the primary video accumulators. It has a limited capacity so needs to be dumped on occasion. While that dump is in progress all video feeds to it will be buffered. I can only modify the video feed while it's in buffering mode, so once you have the cover unlocked press the black button beneath it. It should have a green LED in the center of it."

Slotting the key card Sean opened the cover. Beneath it he found the green lit button. "Okay, I'm pressing it... now." He found his finger shaking as he reached up and poked the button. It depressed with a subtle click and the green light began flashing. "Green light started flashing."

"It's on buffer mode. I'm inserting my feed now. Doggies, move to the elevator. You have ten minutes for the backup dump to complete and the live feed resumes. At least they should not spool up the buffer for review, with luck." Taking a long breath on the other end of the phone Bryant let it out with a sigh. "Sean, your job is done; get the hell out, now. You guys will be alone on the elevator, -" Sean tuned out Bryant's instructions and took a step back, turning toward the door. He stopped abruptly, reeling back in surprise when he found a broad shouldered form standing just within the door glaring down at him with angry, bronze eyes. The door closed behind the newcomer with a quiet click. It was a puma; tall and powerfully built dressed in the brown and burgundy of the hotel staff but with a better cut. Sean's mind reeled in surprise and he took a step back, fetching up against the rack behind him. He had seen the cat once before, at a security post, when he rode the elevator to its lowest level.

"Ye shouldn't be here, boy." The puma growled. In one hand he had a large black gym bag and it fell to the floor with a thump while Sean gawped; a landed fish before a cat's hungry regard. "Now I am gonna fuck ya up."

"Who was that?" Bryant's voice gave a startled bark from the phone still pressed against Sean's ear. With sudden explosive swiftness puma and human moved simultaneously; Sean hurling himself to one side as the massive cat lunged for him. Claws caught at Sean's overcoat and sent him spinning to carom off of another video recording rack. He managed to remain on his feet by staggering further away and grab the office chair. With a lurch he spun the chair toward his attacker.

"Yeah!" the puma snarled with a frightening gleam of predatory teeth, "That's it, boy! Fight!" He batted the chair aside negligently and stalked forward, his towering bulk occupying far too much space for Sean to dart past. "I like me furless fucktoys to fight!"

"What the hell?" Bryant's tinny voice barked distantly. Sean, despite all of his desperate evasion, had managed to clutch the phone to his ear, if anything, even more solidly. Bryant was gasping on the other end of the line, trying to understand Sean's situation. "Lazarus, Sean's in trouble!" the collie's fearful growl crackled in Sean's ear.

"I'm gonna make ya scream." Sean had absolutely no where to go and cast about desperately for something, anything, he could use to against the cat. "I'm gonna make ya bleed." Swallowing past the crushing fear in his throat Sean squared his shoulders and glared back at the cat; a chihuahua facing down a mastiff.

"Yeah, pussycat?" he hissed with false bravado past the lump in his throat. "What if I like a little pussycat, eh?" he challenged, "What if I like it rough?"

The puma merely shrugged his broad shoulders, "Ye'll still bleed, little man. Ye'll still scream when I plow yer ass."

Sean nearly lost control of his bowels at that last; the cat meant to fuck him!

No; the cat meant to rape him.

No. The cat meant to kill him. Sean could see it in his terrifying bronze glare. Rape him and claw him until he bled out on the floor alone. "Bring it, pencil dick." Sean snarled, prepared to fight for his life.

Leering, the feline lunged forward with vision defying speed. Sean dodged to the side as best he could, turning his body to launch a side kick at the cat's pounce in desperation. "I'll give ya more than a pencil!" the cat laughed, "Right after I take it out of yer bloody shit hole an' make ya suck it!"

Sean's kick slammed heel first into the meat of the puma's thigh solidly enough to turn him in mid-lunge, but it was not enough to keep him out of the cat's deadly reach. One hand swept in low and Sean failed to block it, his evasion not carrying him far enough away to escape the stunning impact. A pained huff of breath exploded from his lungs when it hammered against his gut, lifting his feet from the floor and throwing him back on his heels. The puma's other hand swung in with a wide arc and solid knuckles, not softened a whit by the short fur adorning them, crashed against the side of Sean's head above his ear, snapping his head to the side violently. The phone went spinning out of sight, Bryant's frightened barks of entreaty trailing away. Sean staggered as another lightening swift blow slammed against the side of his head and sent it bouncing from one of the racks.

Dazed, Sean tried to drag himself past the cat using the metal grips and wires on the rails but another blow against the back of his head slammed his face into him. The fist became a huge hand that seized his head and hauled it back with a painful prick of deadly sharp claws against his scalp. He was staggered by another blow to his lower back and, when reflexes twisted his body away, another hammered his gut once more with enough violent force to lift him onto his toes.

With a heave the puma flung his human prey across the narrow space of the room. Sean struck the desk, one arm slamming the small computer screen back against the wall behind it. As he sagged the cat stepped over to loom above his stunned victim. "As much as I want to, boy, I just don't have time to play this game." His powerful hand seized Sean by the jaw and hauled him upright, shoving him back against the desk. Leaning down, his hot breath filling Sean's nose and those golden eyes filling his terrified gaze, the cat squeezed his jaw painfully. "Lose the pants."

"Phwk oo," Sean spat through the deformation of his cheeks and lips, "Pezzil d-" His insult was silenced by a stunning blow from the puma's free hand as hard knuckles were delivered to the center of his brow. Only the powerful grip holding his jaw kept his head from snapping back under the force of impact.

"Lose 'em or I shred 'em." Drawing his hand back the puma opened his fingers before Sean's blurry stare, distressingly long pale claws gleaming from tawny hued fingertips. "Shred ya too, boy, I don't care." Turning that hand the puma traced one fingertip downward across Sean's aching brow and nose, "I already done killed one human today, don't think I care if ye're number two an' just bust a nut in yo ass while it's still warm." That claw caught at Sean's lip briefly as he stared, horrified, up into the deadly bronze glare. "Ye want to maybe live, ye'll lose them pants." That painfully sharp claw dropped away from his lip as the cat reached down to his the pants of his hotel uniform and worried the buckle loose.

Lazarus! Oda! Where are you? Sean's thoughts bound about within the confines of his skull like mice trapped in Schrodinger's box with an angry, hungry cat. Help me, oh god, please! But there was no answer to the panicked exhortation. Even if they had abandoned their efforts it would take them time to get to him. Time; that's what he needed. Time enough for help to arrive; he just needed to buy some before the beast flayed him alive just to get his fuck on. Dropping his hands Sean fumbled with his pants and pushed them down to his knees. The puma maintained that painfully tight grip on his jaws and worked the fly of his uniform loose. Sean was pulled almost off of the desk when the cat reached down, grasped the rumpled pile of his half-dropped pants, and yanked them from his legs with savage strength. Using the unflinching grip on Sean's jaw the burly cat dragged him back up onto the desk, batting his knees open with his other hand before stepping forward between the human's thighs.

Oh, god, no! Sean's fear scaled beyond panic at the first touch of something rigid, hot, and slickly moist pressing into the hollow between his thigh and scrotum. A powerful, sharp musk assailed his nose as he tried to writhe away from that touch, short fur shifting against his inner thighs as the beast above him moved. The solid touch of his tapered feline maleness pressed against Sean's thigh, shoving upward and poking sharply to one side of his nuts. With lips lifted and terrifying teeth tight clenched the puma's glare unfocused slightly as he strove to find what he sought. Sean tried to press against those thighs, to keep him at some remove, but the cat was simply too strong. He released Sean's jaw and clapped his large hand over the human's mouth, pushing him back under the weight of that hand until Sean lay almost supine before him. He could feel the points of the cat's claws digging into the soft flesh of his face.

Reaching up by reflex Sean's hands pushed against the cat's broad shoulders, with equal futility as the questing heat of the feline's lust slid into the cleft of his ass. Spittle dripped from those glistening feline fangs leaving dark rings of dampness on Sean's shirt. "This'll make ya scream, motherfucker." The puma hissed past those clenched teeth as the tapered thickness ground upward into the cleft of Sean's ass and shoved against his spastically tightened ring. The beast snarled and shoved fiercely, slamming that spear-sharp tip against the tightness of Sean's asshole, piercing his resistance with an explosion of slick fire.

And scream Sean did, back bowing upward as he sought to escape the sharp burning agony that blossomed from his asshole. His muffled shriek hissed behind the cat's heavy hand and his hands pushed desperately against those tight shoulders. His grasp shifted inward, pressing against the taut muscles of the puma's neck. The puma was unmoved by his efforts; beyond becoming more aroused at the pain his lustful thrust created. With a brief pause and back-draw that pulled at Sean's rectal walls like broken glass the cat chuckled dangerously.

"Try to choke me an' I'll chew yer face off." He warned even as the muscles of his hips flexed and he thrust forward again. Agony exploded through his prey's ass as he was spread forcefully wider by the cat's barbed cock. "G'damn, ye got a tight ass."

Yet, even as he shrieked anew at the pain Sean felt some part of himself, calm and coldly calculating but furious enough to give a demon pause, distance itself. He saw his hands pushing at the puma's neck, he felt his body arching upward as his rectal depths were rasped by the feline's cock, but felt removed; a mere observer. While his lungs ached for air and his throat vibrated with his screams that cold fury shifted its attention to his hands and willed them to stop.

They did, even as that rasping pull grated back for another agonizing thrust.

Dispassionately separated from the fiery torment of his ass he directed his hands to draw inward, slowly, thumbs extending outward to trace the taut muscles and hollows of the cat's throat. He watched the dilated bronze eyes, the gleaming teeth and the taut tendons of his neck, all calculating.

Slowly. His lungs heaved and his thighs tried to push the cat away as another thrust claimed him.

Carefully. His back arched up as the puma's hips drove forward, crashing the desk against the wall and crushing the monitor between.

There! A pulse, swift and strong, throbbed under one thumb, and then the other. He willed those thumbs, as if directing a stranger's actions, to press against those swift beating pulses. Slowly, though, gently subtle as their pressure increased and his fingers clutched in desperation against the drawn tendons beneath them. Agony flared and ebbed like breakers crashing on some distant beach. The stranger shrieked and his flesh sought surcease from the torture but such were likewise distant things; his focus upon those thumbs.

The puma's furious thrusts slowed to shuddering, slamming bucks. Foaming spittle hissed between tight clenched teeth, spattering the front of the stranger's shirt. Dilated pupils shrank to black pinpoints in bronze disks as the puma's gaze abruptly focused. Peeling back his own lips, tasting the coarse pads of the puma's palm, Sean willed his thumbs to press, hard, and his fingers to seize tense neck muscles.

"Wha-" the puma croaked and grasped at his prey's forearms only to find his strength ebbing swiftly away. Pinprick pupils dilated again and those deadly bronze eyes rolled up in their sockets as the puma's knees failed. Sean felt the dragging rasp of the cat's cock haul back and pop free as he slowly sank downward against his thighs to collapse between them, head falling upon Sean's gut. Pushing the heavy head up Sean raised one leg, planted it against that feline face, and kicked him back in fury.

As he toppled the puma's uniform coat fell open revealing a black strap angled across his chest. Reach down, he commanded the tortured stranger, distantly aware of the slick hot pain in his ass, and open his coat. Woodenly the half-naked puppet obeyed. Under the coat was a shoulder holster and in it was a pistol.

Take it. The fury commanded.

The puppet bent and did, drawing the pistol from the holster and pointing it vaguely at the unconscious cat.

Bind his hands.

Yanking a tangle of wires from the nearest rack the stranger bent and wrapped them around the cat's wrists, binding them in front. Knotting them so violently that he shook the whole beast the puppet moved toward the cat's ankles.

No, not yet. Wait. See, he awakens.

With a groan the feline shook his huge head and blinked, bronze eyes fixing immediately on his prey. "Motherfu-"

Kick him.

Empty, distant fury gave the puppet its orders. A foot lashed out and ended the cat's curse with a meaty crack. Blood burbled from the cat's lips but consciousness remained in the hot rage of those bronze eyes.

Again.

The cat grunted when a foot slammed against his side, ribs cracking with muffled pops, and then struck his face again, knocking teeth loose. Again and again the puppet's feet lashed out, kicking and stomping with a savagery that left the puma's anger pale. At first the cat grunted and roared, trying to worm away from those devastating blows but, as kick after kick after stomp rained down his actions slowed. Blood coursed from the cat's nose and mouth, spattering across the floor as each kick to the ribs blew air from his lungs. When a blow to the head abruptly stilled the predator, the puppet's gaze tracked downward.

His empty, emotionless stare settled on the cat's crotch and a foot lifted.

No.

The foot wavered and then lowered. Raising one arm slightly the human waited until his pain wracked body stilled. The pistol chuffed softly and bucked in his grasp. The puma's testicles, and the tail behind them, exploded in a spray of bloody meat.

Drop it.

The pistol clattered to the floor, smoke still curling from the short suppressor and breach. An ejected casing rattled between a couple of racks on its way to the floor.

Dress, flee.

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