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"Blue Forest- Butterflies and Bourbon"

This story is part of K.M. Hirosaki's "Blue Forest" series. The setting and the character Cedric are his creations. This chapter takes place in proper chronological order.

I want to thank Hirosaki for what I consider the great honor of being allowed to delve into this fascinating universe. I hope my humble attempt here does not disappoint.

Bonitas non est pessimis esse meliorem.It is not goodness to be better than the worst.-Seneca

Nobody wanted to live in Blue Forest, or at least not the decent sort of people. In some twisted way it could be a paradise provided that one was a crooked cop, drug dealer, or was just fucked up enough to enjoy living in one of the scummiest towns out there. Even then there had to be easier places to be a corrupt police officer, better paying customers for the dealers, and still scummy but less dangerous haunts for those with such unusual tastes.

Jennifer Cornell knew this of course, especially being from Spanfront; a not too far off city with typically greater fortunes than the abysmal Blue Forest had. She looked down into her open coat pocket again at the folded piece of paper which was protruding an inch or so out, and once again stuffed it back inside. Of course, it would just be jostled out soon enough; the trains weren't the smoothest around here.

The mid 20's wolf looked out the window, or rather tried to. The plexiglas was so scratched and dirty that all that was visible was a blurry glow of yellow-brown factory lights. Good, if they were passing the factories she'd be at her stop soon and off the rackety train.

Jennifer had tried to dress casually for today, but the closer she got to Blue Forest the faster she realized that what she and what the locals thought of as "casual wear" were vastly different entities and that she only made herself stick out like a sore thumb to the fellow passengers. Jen was used to getting looked at though, but for other reasons. She stood a few inches short of six foot. The wolf had very little in the way of lighter colors in her fur. The only white was on the tips of her ears and right around her nose; it was shades of gray almost all around, darker on her chest and up through the neck. She had an athletic build, she wasn't a twig, but her body was quite well formed. The little extra bulk she had wasn't fat but years of running, pumping iron, and endless pushups and sit-ups.

She gave each of the people around her a momentary glance; mentally sizing them all up as she was taught in the self defense classes. Straight across from her was a very ragged old male rabbit whose left paw shook constantly and every few minutes for the entire way had mumbled something to himself. That one was certainly no threat to her. Off to the left was a pleasant enough looking coyote who was paging through a magazine; again no threat. To the right on the opposite side was another wolf whose fur was matted all to hell and who was twitching violently at random intervals.

That, she noted, was a threat. Probably a crosser or just someone who'd done far too many drugs. The female wolf's paw slid down lightly over her jacket and stopped at the hip. She gave a mental sigh of relief upon feeling the outline of her issue weapon; well concealed under the coat. It was ok, the next stop was probably the one she needed anyways, so she could make an escape soon.

The train screeched to a shuddering stop before she could complete that last thought, and as the doors hissed open she cautiously walked past the twitching fur, her paw still at her side. Damnit, she had to stop doing that or else she'd be made by people, and that she definitely did not want.

Jen about gagged on the nearly toxic Blue Forest atmosphere and at the appalling condition of the surrounding buildings. Even in the pre-morning darkness the general trashiness of the city was apparent. What time was it anyways? She brought her left wrist up and checked the position of the hands: four-thirty AM. Good, she'd be there a bit early for her 5 O'clock appointment.

The directions she had been given were clear, but also unnecessary. Her destination, lit up like a Christmas tree with spotlights, was obvious in the darkness before dawn. With a squint of the eyes Jen could just make out the well-illuminated (but still somewhat distant) sign: "Blue Forest Police Department". Her legs began to take her towards the building unconsciously as she again scanned her surroundings for any sign of threats.

There weren't any, in fact, there was no one there at all. The entire area around the massive police headquarters was deserted of any life or business it seemed. The only thing present was the thick, smelly air and occasional rustle of trash in the wind. Before she even knew it the wolf was nearing her destination; a fact that was brought to her attention by virtue of her eyes stinging from the intensity of the lights.

A tall and powerful looking fox dressed in what can only be described as battle gear met her about twenty paces from the entrance. "Name. Business." There was no greeting, no smile, no show of any emotion at all. Just a tired yet gruff voice and an annoyed once over from the fox.

She was a bit taken aback by the abruptness of the encounter, and it took her mind a few milliseconds to process the request made of it. "Jennifer Cornell, I just got transferred here." She slowly moved her paw into her coat pocket to get her papers; making sure the fox saw that she wasn't reaching for a weapon. He peered down at her, and upon seeing the papers exit the pocket relaxed again and grabbed them from her unceremoniously.

He sighed and unfolded the documents and began to mumbingly read them aloud. "Jennifer Cornell is to hereby report to blah blah blah. Alright, go on in." He shoved them back at the wolf, nearly hitting her in the chest. "Talk to Captain Le Blanc, third floor."

Miss Cornell nodded nervously and walked past the fox as fast as she could without running; what a jerk that guy was. Was everyone here going to be like that? She reached the large, and extremely thick, glass double doors at the front of the building and after a moment they opened with a gentle hiss; closing right behind her.

Going form outside to the interior of police headquarters was like stepping from one planet to another. The rancid smell was gone thanks to the efficient and state-of-the-art ventilation system the station had. Blue Forest might be just one overgrown slum but the police were very well funded by both the government and other, less reputable, sources.

Not being in uniform she had to pass through a small, automated security checkpoint set up for all visitors as opposed to walking though the employee check-ins. The wolf walked though the small tunnel-like scanner and was greeted with a loud beeping and a very computerized voice. "Dur-Arms model eight, forty caliber sidearm detected. Police issue 35511-86-C to officer Jennifer Cornell. Please submit to a retina scan to your left Miss Cornell." All police issued weapons had a tiny microchip inside them. This served two purposes, the first was so that the officers could carry them around and be able to be cleared at checkpoints. The second was that police weapons would only fire if within several inches of an officers own transmitter; located on the wrists.

Jen complied casually, she'd done it a few times before. A bright flash that lasted barely long enough to be perceptible hit her left eye. With that, the beeping ceased and the other side of the little tunnel opened. Now it was off to the third floor. At this hour in the morning the headquarters was mostly deserted and very, very quiet. The only noise was the low, constant hum of electricity and the occasional patter of feet on the cold floor. The few officers she passed gave no greeting at all; verbal or otherwise. Jennifer decided to avoid the possibility of being stuck in an elevator with one of the less than friendly locals and opted for the staircase a few paces beyond the elevator lobby.

Captain Le Blanc's office was marked with a simple sign on the open door. Jennifer knocked twice and entered slowly into the room beyond. It really wasn't anything spectacular; just the typical office of an overworked and underpaid administrator. Papers and files were strewn about the desk and cabinets in a seemingly disorganized fashion (though likely the captain knew where everything was). In the center of it all and behind the steel desk sat a rough yet unaggressive looking black panther.

Jon Le Blanc was only in his upper 30's but already the fur round his muzzle was good and gray, and upon his face there was always a worn and tired expression; a result of too many long nights and stressful days.

Contrasting the panther was the young and vibrant Miss Cornell. Her figure was that of a disciplined athlete: lithe but powerful. While by no means ripped her muscles could easily be outlined on her arms and legs; a result of years of constant running and working out.

The cat looked up at the newcomer and forced a smile as he shuffled some of the clutter around on his desk in order to make some room for the sure to come exchange of documents. "Good morning. You are?..."

Jennifer stepped forward confidently and offered her paw across the desk. The casual formality was accepted and the pair shook paws. "I'm Jennifer Cornell reporting for duty, I was transferred here from Spanfront."

Jon blinked at the girl before him. He closed his and shook his head for a moment, then reopened them; giving a grunt as the same girl was still there. That was the officer they sent? He had asked Spanfront for the most well qualified and best performing rookie cop they had and this was the best they could do?

Captain Le Blanc wasn't inherently sexist; he believed strongly in treating women with respect and not questioning their abilities. Experience, though, had taught him that female officers in Blue Forest never lasted long; be it from discrimination from their co-officers, harassment from the people, assault and even sometimes rape from common thugs, or the general stress of the life of a Blue Forest police officer. He looked over the pretty female across the desk from him once more and sighed. What was Chief Williamson over at Spanfront thinking sending him a girl, a pretty one at that? "You're Officer Cornell?"

Jen nodded and reached into her pocket to grab her transfer orders; placing them on the desk and taking a seat which was offered by the Captains extended paw. The chair creaked uncomfortably loudly as she sat on it, making Jennifer feel even more awkward and nervous than she already had become from the encounter thus far.

Jon fidgeted with his reading glasses to get them on before holding up the papers; reading it over quickly and nodding to himself. He looked up at her from behind the spectacles and smiled. Her record was impeccable and her scores from the academy some of the best he'd ever seen. Just as importantly her physical fitness records were well above average. 'Very well', he thought, 'she'll get her chance'.

He liked rookie cops; they were like butterflies. They came in so beautiful and fresh and so often the cocoon of Blue Forest would transform them back into a caterpillar; writhe with hate and corruption. Sometimes though, just sometimes, they could keep that beauty though all the scum of the city and become something even better.

The sale of drugs, the so-called F-Gel in particular, had skyrocketed over the last month and the murders resulting from the illicit trade along with it. He needed a butterfly, and uncorrupted and honest young officer added to his force. Even if that officer would soon corrupt like everyone else the short period of purity would be a great asset as the department conducted its harsh crackdown that was scheduled to begin.

"They use the model 4 interface in Spanfront, Miss Cornell?"

The device the captain was asking about was a small interface strapped to the back of an officer's wrist. On the screen it showed all other police within 500-1000m as blue dots (undercover police showed as black dots). The dots turned green if the officer was making a stop, red accompanied with a beep in the headset if the officer had requested backup, and flashing red with a steady alert noise if the officer's weapon had been discharged. Any call from dispatch to respond to a location could bring up directions on the interface if needed. It was, without a doubt, the most handy tool given to police in decades; cutting response times to officers in need by more than half and making it easy to keep track of fellow police on the beat.

The wolf nodded to him. "Yes Captain, we use the same model. I've also spent some time looking over the maps of downtown here and know at least the major streets and this precinct."

Jon smiled widely and returned the nod. Good, that showed some dedication. "I won't lie to you, this job is going to be the hardest thing you've ever done in your life." The panther handed her back her papers and continued. "I'll make you this offer though. If you can't handle this position I'll see to it you're transferred back with no questions asked. I won't demand you keep this assignment."

Jennifer tilted her head and flicked her gray and white tail behind her absentmindedly. "Thank you, I'll keep that in mind." There were a few moments of awkward silence that she broke. "So uh, where do you want me?"

The cat mumbled to himself and scratched his chin. He could pair her up with a veteran, but none were available that were still clean. There was Detective Rogers, his partner had called off sick the night before on account of a particularly nasty case of food poisoning. Mike Rogers was one of the few above the table officers in the department and worked well with others. If he assigned Cornell to him though she'd have to spend her first day as plainclothes; something many officers did not take well to. On the upside though that would actually cut down on the harassment she'd get as being seen as a female cop on the streets...

"I'm going to put you with Detective Michael Rogers, he's a good cop and takes well to newcomers. It'll be a plainclothes street beat but I'm sure you'll do alright. Does that sound ok?"

Jen threw her arms up in an exaggerated shrug. "Wherever you think is best, Captain."

The cat smirked and jostled around some papers on the desk to reveal an intercom which he hit. "Detective Rogers to my office." He glanced back at the other across the desk from him. "He'll be here in a minute."

"Alright. Is what I have on good enough for today then?"

Jon took his glasses off and craned his neck up a bit. He hadn't really given that any thought before she mentioned it to him. She had on a light green windbreaker with a worn pair of jeans; nothing spectacular or suspicious. It was supposed to be a bit cool outside today so the jacket should be fine. "Yes, that will do just fine. Just keep the interface under a sleeve and your badge around your neck and it should be alright."

The captain next asked her about what sort of weapon she was using, how good she was with it, and that they'd give her a light vest to wear under her jacket since she didn't have one. The small talk came to an abrupt end at the knocking on the office doorframe.

Detective Rogers didn't wait for the captain to invite him in barged straight into the office wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist and still dripping a little water. The grin on his face transformed into a confused frown and his head tilted to the side at the sight of Jennifer. "Oh um... good morning ma'am."

The wolf spun around in her chair to face the newcomer; smirking at what she saw. Michael Rogers was shorter than her by probably three inches, but he sure seemed to carry himself confidently and that big, expressive, powerful-toothed grin he had had about made her melt. He immediately dropped his paws to his sides to be sure the towel was secure around his waist before looking back at the female.

"Detective Rogers, this is officer Cornell. She'll be your partner today."

The jaguar raised a brow and gave Jen the classic once over; nodding afterwards and resumed the grin on his muzzle that he had when he first entered. "Definitely better looking than most rookies. Well let's go get you set up for today." She coughed and blushed just a tad in response to the joke and looked back towards the captain once she'd regained herself. Getting a nod of approval she stood up and followed the spotted feline out of the office and towards the basement.

*

Jack McAllistor sighed and took another deep drag off his cigarette; flicking the ash into the tray and looking around him before setting the smoke down in the tray. The bar and dance floor always looked so foreign to the fox when empty and the silence and dimmed lights only amplified the emptiness. Even with it empty he still sat at the table he would if the club were booming. The gray fox sprawled his legs out onto a nearby chair and stretched his arms out above his head with a low sigh. He looked over to his side, where there was a mirror-wall, and checked once more to be sure he was presentable. He was clearly middle-aged, but he thought he still looked good. Splotches of gray and black on his face, and running all the way up from his back to rear half of his head and ears was a fantastic rust color. One would think he was prepping for a date the way he prepared for a business meeting

The club, simply called "Rush", had become very successful in the last five years amidst fierce competition. For once he was actually making a relatively decent profit out of the customers. He always had to make some profit of course, at least enough to keep the government sticking their snouts in his business. He'd had a few close calls before when they questioned his lifestyle in comparison with the money the club brought in, but the government figured it was best to drop the inquiries lest they have to work alongside with Blue Forest authorities. That was a privilege he paid heavily for, but having the BFPD look the other way was an absolute necessity for his line of work.

He eyed the clock and finished his smoke; stabbing the lit end against the ashtray until it stopped burning. Soon some of his real customers would be there and he could make his real money. His club brought in enough to satisfy taxes and stay nominally legit plus make for exciting nights. His little F-Gel operation brought in a hell of a lot more but not enough for the vulpine. What really made him money were guns: Handguns, rifles, explosives, machine-guns, the occasional rocket... all the toys that big boys liked to play with. This last type of business was sporadic but profitable beyond almost any belief.

It took Jack a decade to get the connections and finesse to satisfy the customer's varied (and sometimes worrying) needs. You had to find and pay suppliers who could get the weapons past authorities, a method to transport them to Blue Forest, build a rapport with potential customers, pay the cops to look the other way, and appear to run an above the board operation. It took a lot of work but the money was just too good to pass up.

He had received a phone call last night from some gentlemen interested in "renting the club for a private event" which was code for "we want to buy merchandise". Jack set them up for a 6:30am appointment and after the club closed and was cleaned he scurried around making preparations for the customers. The fox tapped his claws on the table and grumbled... they were a few minutes late and he hated it when people weren't on time.

Just from the sound of their voices on the telephone he guessed they were Duhamel goons but that was quite an assumption. Still, it was an educated one at least. By now everyone knew about the police attack on the corporation though the reasoning varied depending on who was telling the story. It was only logical that some suits at the company were getting skittish, and scared rich people paid Jack's bills.

A knock at the door echoed through the entire chamber, making Jack jump slightly as he was jolted from his thoughts. He started to get up to open the door but it creaked open to reveal a trio silhouetted by the hazy blue of the beginning of a sunrise. They did not wait for invitation and walked confidently towards Jack; looking over the club interior as they approached. As they neared McAllistor could make out their appearance. They all wore black suits and ties with sunglasses as so many in their profession seemed to favor. The one on the left seemed to be a dingo, the middle a meerkat, and the third a mouse or perhaps a rat.

The fox stood up and forced a smile; outstretching his paw which the meerkat in the center took. "Good morning gentlemen. What can I help you with today?" The customers glanced over to the large table off to their right and Jack's left. "Ah, well feel free to look at any of the merchandise there and ask any questions. I have plenty more items that I can acquire, not just what you see there." The suited trio silently glided over to the display and looked it over thoroughly. God Jack hated the quiet types of buyers... he needed small talk.

The mouse was the first to reach, and he picked up a compact squarish black submachine gun. "Ah, that's the new Centennial-Tech SM85. Four point five millimeter select fire compact sub machine gun, or perhaps assault rifle depending on your def', with a hundred-twenty round box magazine on top there. You've got a 1000 round per minute rate of fire on that little baby and don't let the small caliber fool you; what they lack in diameter they more than make up for in armor piercing ability, and the low recoil makes it damn controllable."

The rodent shot him a dirty and annoyed look that told Jack he already knew what the gun was. Not good to piss off the customers; he'd just have to keep his muzzle shut for this one. Abandoning the glare, the mouse turned to his companions and exchanged some whispers, then turned back to the arms dealer. "We'll take two hundred of these."

He didn't even want to hear the price first? Hey whatever, he'd take that. "I've only got twelve in stock, I can get the remainder within five days."

The meerkat nodded and smiled and spoke next. "Very good. We also need some other equipment... less conventional sorts." The fox's ears perked up at that comment and the other caught that. "I need some good old fashioned fifty caliber machine guns, not any of the modern shit. Also I need fifty kilos of untraceable Type 44 high explosive, doesn't matter what manufacturer. Lastly, I'd like some anti-armor shoulder launched missiles; two dozen or so should do it."

Jack was about salivating, and his slightly wagging tail painfully showed it. The two hundred guns were good enough. The rest? Shit he'd not need to make another sale for a year. "I can get you the explosives and missiles in five days along with the guns, but the machine guns are going to be a little harder, they just don't make 'em anymore and most of the ones lying around aren't serviceable... you really want them?"

The other nodded firmly and Jack shrugged. "Alright, I can't guarantee a date or price on those, but let's sit down and discuss the cost of the other equipment, shall we?"

*

Michael Rogers took a sip of his coffee and tapped a section of the open map he had on his usual table in the diner across the street from the station. "We'll be in this area all day. We'll just be keeping an eye out for trouble and responding to calls, I doubt anything fancy will go down today but you never can tell for sure."

The feline jumped a tiny bit in his seat and reached for his pocket; pulling out a vibrating phone. He checked the caller and sighed before putting it back away.

"Who is it?"

The detective shook his head absentmindedly. "My wife, she keeps calling."

The wolf blinked in surprise. "You're married?"

He shrugged. "Sort of, forget it, let's go."

Jen nodded in acknowledgement and Mike told the waitress to put the bill on his tab as they stood up. It was 7:00 and the shift had officially started. The street outside was more alive than before; with cars and a few pedestrians making their way to work along the dirty streets. She followed the jaguar's lead westward; casually walking beside him.

Mike looked about as inconspicuous as possible really. He had on a pair of semi-worn jeans with a well-used black hoodie on top covering his gun and bulletproof vest. Jen's attire looked nice by comparison but was nothing too pretty. As the captain said, it would do. While there were bound to be folks that picked Jen and Mike out as cops the goal was to keep that number as low as possible. Naturally, there were a lot of things deadbeats would do around what they thought were just civilians that they'd never do if they had any suspicion that there were police around; explaining the massive success that undercover officers had been having.

The entire first hour went by both totally uneventfully but quickly for Jen. The pair made some small talk and got the basics on each other. A soft beep preceded the sudden dispatch call that broke the dullness for the first time in the day. "Unit 322 respond to a B&E report at Spinning Disk, over."

Jennifer looked over at her partner curiously. They were 322 but the dispatcher had not given an address, though from the look of it Detective Rogers didn't need to be given one. "Roger dispatch, 322 on it." He patted Jen on the shoulder and started walking at a brisk pace. "It's just up ahead here."

As the pair quickly approached the cities most famous, or perhaps infamous, gay bar they spotted a black cat standing outside the door; arms crossed in front of him and tail flicking back and forth anxiously. He eyed Jennifer up and down and then turned his attention to the other feline. "Morning Detective Rogers."

"Morning Cedric, wish we didn't have to do this sort of thing so often, what's up?"

Cedric sighed and shook his head. "I'd rather deal with you then your half-witted uniformed buddies." The cat gestured angrily towards the door of the club and Jen could see that the side was busted up and wood and metal splinters were littered on the ground below. "I came in early to do some paperwork and found this lovely mess, stupid fuckers."

Rogers was beginning to jot the information down in an electronic notepad and nodding when the intercom beeped again. "322 assist with narcotics arrest, piping it to the interface." The pair brought up their wrists and looked; the arrest was taking place just around the corner ahead.

Mike sighed and shrugged helplessly at Cedric. He was the detective of the duo; it was him they'd be needing at the other crime scene. He handed Cornell the partially completed report on the pad. "I have to take this other call, my partner officer Cornell here will finish taking your report. I'll see you both in a few."

Jennifer smiled and raised her brows at the black feline, who returned the odd expression semi-mockingly. "Whatever, well come in and see the damage done." Cedric opened up the busted door and led her into the club. It was well lit since he'd turned all the lights on. Just giving it a once over no real damage was obvious so at least the burglars hadn't trashed the place.

The female wolf brought the notepad up and filled in a few blanks that didn't require any questioning. This sort of work she was used to from Spanfront and wasn't at all worried about; it was the other shit in Blue Forest that she was anxious about. "What exactly did they steal, sir?"

The panther sighed and led her to a back room, pointing out the busted safe. "I don't even want to know how they got in that, but it doesn't matter so much really. We just made a deposit and they only made out with about a grand from that safe. We're also missing a case of vodka."

She nodded and jotted down the stolen goods and their estimated values. "Anything else to report, sir?"

The cat smiled and shook his head. "It's Cedric, please, and no...you new, Miss Cornell?"

Jennifer blushed slightly through the ears and nodded. She wasn't new, not as a police officer, but she certainly was new to this town. "Jennifer, please, and yes to this city I am. Should I expect to respond to calls here often or something?"

Cedric chuckled quietly. "Welcome to the lovely city of Blue Forest, and no, not really. We have our incidents but usually nothing too serious." He sighed and looked down a moment before returning his gaze. "Honestly most of our customers and even myself try to avoid too much attention being drawn to ourselves."

The canid felt herself blush again a bit as 2 and 2 finally clicked in her mind and she realized what sort of establishment she was in. She tilted her head in thought as she remembered the familiarity that her partner showed the cat and his knowing exactly where the club was, but that could just be professional knowledge.

He smirked wryly, seeming to catch her thought process as a good bartender would. "He comes in every once in awhile...goes both ways. Though you didn't hear that one from me." He winked and pulled out a chair at one of the tables for her, himself taking the one on the opposite side. She sat down and murred just a tiny bit as her leg muscles thanked her brain for the welcome break. "Would you like anything to drink... nonalcoholic of course? I've got some coffee brewing."

That sounded pretty good at the moment and she let him know as she finished up the report. As he returned to the table she traded him the notepad for the coffee mug. "Need you to sign that there for me, Cedric." Jennifer put a bit of sugar into the steaming beverage and gave it a good stir while the cat signed his name and slid the pad back.

The big cat brought his left ankle up onto his right knee in the chair and took a sip of his own drink. "I'll tell you what I tell a lot of my customers, Jennifer. Blue Forest is like bourbon. It's harsh and unforgiving. It burns you and can be repulsive, but after you've tasted the pain awhile it becomes smooth until soon you don't even feel it anymore. And in the end? In the end it fucks you up good and leaves you a nice hangover. Just get a good mixer with the liquor and you can smooth a lot of that out." He set his coffee cup down and raised a brow. "Or you could just get used to the burn...either way."

She let the words sink in a few moments and could see what Cedric was saying. Jen loved a good bartender; they were some of the most intelligent and down to earth (not to mention practical) folks out there. "A good mixer?"

Cedric smiled. "Something that makes you happy; takes your mind off this place. Blue Forest is rough but you can make it here if you have the drive to. You're welcome to come in here anytime you like, Miss Cornell."

Jennifer blinked and stammered a tad. "But um, isn't this a gay bar?"

She got another friendly chuckle out of the cat. "So? There's something about you I like. Besides, this club doesn't bar women, we just don't get many.

It was true, he was taking a liking to the female officer but he couldn't put his finger on it. Just the way she carried herself in that mix of shyness and confidence seemed refreshing and familiar to him somehow.

She gave him a genuine, friendly smile and a nod. Finishing off her coffee she stood up. "We'll see, but for now I need to get back to work. I'll see you around."

The cat got up along with her and walked her to the door; watching her backside walk down the street and turn the corner. Cedric heaved a sigh: How long before she was either broken or crooked? How long before Jennifer Cornell was pistol-whipping homeless people, harassing folks for just looking at her the wrong way, and shooting suspects in dark alleyways? Maybe she'd keep face, but they never did...

*

The loud old-fashioned bell of a ringing phone jolted the coyote from his pleasant sleep. He didn't like being awakened. Alexander Horrocks found his sleep and blissful dreams at night to be more and more savory as his life went on; an escape from the ever worsening nightmares of his waking existence.

He grumbled in disgust at the new day and picked up the receiver, placing it against his head. "Here." The coyote didn't need to say anymore. No one had his number other than his employers, and so no one else could be calling him. Truth be told he was starting to dread the phone calls. He was supposed to have nightmares when he slept, but sleep was his only real peace anymore.

The cold and computer-distorted voice at the other end responded typically. "Thomas Brinks, meerkat. Spotted today outside the nightclub 'Rush'. Target has inside knowledge of operational secrets and appears to be renegade. Twice the usual rate for category 2 target. Also, you have freedom of action with the gunrunner at Rush; Brinks is the priority though. If Brinks cannot be eliminated the gunrunner must be. This job has a deadline of midnight."

Alex took mental note of the information. It was limited but all he needed. He'd learned not to ask the how's and why's. 50,000 dees was a good price for one head though, not that he had a choice. "Understood, out." He sat the phone back in its place and sighed. Perhaps he'd get another hour of rest.

*

"Hey man, you and your fine lady lookin' for a good time?"

Michael Rogers stopped and searched for the voice that addressed him. He found it in the form of a ferret who was leaning up against the side of a building; one of the few apartment complexes (better described as a project) downtown.

The jaguar smiled and got closer while Jen looked on cautiously. "Maybe... what can you do about it, pal?"

The other looked Mike over briefly to size him up. That was either just for show or the ferret was just inexperienced at this because the two undercover police weren't too hard to pick out up close for someone who knew their shit. "Ya never fucked till you've thrown a little of this in the mix, my feline friend." The naïve street urchin reached a paw into his front jeans pocket and pulled out a small package just a tiny bit; making the blue gel visible.

That was all it took and the detective had his paw around the other male's skinny neck; kicking the ferret's feet out from underneath him at the same time. With his free paw Mike flashed his badge in front of the choking suspects face. "Well there won't be any of that to improve the fucking where you're going you little punk."

Jennifer looked on in a bit of shock. This was one of the clean, above the board cops here? She'd hate to see what the crooked ones were like. She flicked her interface over so that it showed the unit was making an arrest and hit the talk button for her radio. "322 making an arrest on narcotics dealing. Send a few uniforms our way please, over."

"Roger 322, sending a car."

In the time she was distracted making the dispatch call Michael had the ferret on his knees and was holding a pistol at his head. "I'd like you to get your identification out for me. Do I need to tell you what will happen if you even give me ideas that you might be getting something else?"

The ferret coughed and shook his head meekly; looking up desperately and stammering. "B-but officer Campbell told me you guys would let me be from now on!"

Mike raised a brow and got down on his haunches so that he was face to face with the inept drug dealer. It wasn't really a wise idea to get so close but God he hated these punks, especially the ones who thought they'd be let alone if they just bribed a cop or two. Rogers stared the ferret down eye to eye a few moments to let the punk knew he meant business. "I'm not officer Campbell. Now you best hurry up and make with that ID before you have an accident."

The ferret did not hesitate this time. He knew even a clean Blue Forest cop was still a Blue Forest cop, and "accident" was not an idle threat. He slowly reached a paw into his black pocket and took out his wallet, handing it to the jaguar who stood up and back again.

"Timothy Flynn is it?" He received a positive answer. "Alright then Mr. Flynn, up on your feet with your paws behind your back. My partner here is going to cuff you and as soon as the black and white arrives you're going to go on a little vacation."

Flynn whimpered and complied, and Jennifer came up carefully behind him and applied the cuffs. It didn't take more than another thirty seconds for the car to arrive and the officers came to take the ferret away with only a few cursory questions.

Mike smiled and turned to his wolf partner. "That was the easiest arrest I've had all month. What a dipshit, soliciting me right in broad daylight." He growled in disgust as the car pulled away and tucked his badge and gun away from sight once more. "Well alright, let's finish up this area and get some lunch."

*

Alexander reached down and picked up his newspaper from outside his door. Buried in the advertisements, as usual, were the workups for his current assignment.

He poured himself a cup of tea from his kettle and sat down at his table; checking over the newspaper headlines before bothering with the other contents. Bah... same shit every day. When was the world finally going to change? When as a society were people going to snap out of their little ruts and become something more? The freedom from that constraint was the one thing he did like about his job still...

You take the average scum out there and they could tell you exactly where they'd be and what they'd be doing the next week, the next month, the next year. They never changed. Oh they always talk about plans and aspirations but it's always "someday" and not today. "Someday I'll get around to making my dreams happen" but before they knew it they got old and were stuck looking back and their missed chances. Not like it mattered in anyways because they weren't going to achieve the goals in the first place.

No, it wasn't like that for Alex. He didn't know where'd he be one day, one hour, even one minute from the next.

The silver-gray haired coyote snatched the small envelope out of the advertisements and opened it up. Sometimes the workups came in data disc, sometimes good old fashioned paper. Today it was a disc and Mr. Horrocks popped it into his laptop and waited for the data to load. It did not take long and a series of photos of the meerkat target flashed on the left side of the screen; all the physical descriptions on the right hand.

"Hmmmmm..." Alex looked over the different pieces of information. It was fascinating how much they could find out about someone. Take the target here, Thomas Brinks, for example. A 31-year-old meerkat with a MBA from Spanfront, was married once when he was 23 and divorced at 26. His work history was blacked out; sometimes they did that. His usual hangouts were listed in detail, along with a web diagram of known associates. Last seen at the club called Rush.

Alexander knew of that club and what the owner's real business was. He glanced at the photos from today outside the club. The meerkat was carrying no briefcase or any other luggage so it was safe to assume he had not taken any money for whatever he was purchasing. What that told the assassin was that Mr. Brinks would be back in that club tonight. The gunrunner inside, Jack McAllistor, always insisted on a down payment the day of sale.

The target would return during club hours most likely so as to not be so obvious. Alex couldn't chance that however, he had to know for sure.

The canine stood up and walked to his bedroom closet. He picked out a nice charcoal blazer and pants to match. His eyes wandered over the various weapons at his disposal. He tucked a .45 and two extra mags in his waist holster; well concealed by the jacket. A small five shot .38 revolver went to his ankle. The dagger he always had on him he stuck on his belt opposite the pistol and right next to that his reliable old silenced 22.

After fixing up his hair to his usual standards he exited the apartment; laptop in its case hung over his shoulder. The coyote made his way out into the world once more, and that meant that at least one other life would not do so again tomorrow.

*

"So did you get it?"

With a sigh, the otter in the doorway shook his head meekly. "Couldn't score any man... there's just none out there with the fuckin police cracking down on the shit."

The seated calico pounded his fist on a coffee table and growled. "You couldn't find any? Christ you're worthless sometimes."

Seth sighed again and collapsed on the couch next to his friend; twiddling his thumbs nervously. Things had gotten real hard real fast for Eric and him. Just sitting down and not saying anything right now was the best course of action since the tensions in the small run-down apartment had been so high lately.

Things were hard in the city; especially for those coming from already disadvantaged backgrounds. The two had been friends ever since their families shared a duplex in their childhood and had stayed close ever since; always working together to try and escape The Forest. Trying to 9 to 5 it never really worked for them even though they tried. So, like many of the downtrodden in the city, they turned to other means of income.

All it took was buying a little F-Gel and cutting it up into single use quantities and selling each for 20 dees. They didn't make much profit but it was enough to save a little. The feline and otter pair allowed themselves a little taste here and there but not too much. It took quite a few months, but they managed to save up enough cash to buy a kilo. That's where the real money came in.

Just from that kilo the two friends made enough money to cut themselves into the trade even more, but something happened. The police crackdown had sent the prices skyrocketing and a good portion of the saved money had to be used to bail Eric out from a possession charge. In addition to that the two had become increasingly hooked on the substance they dealt; breaking the first rule of the business. Seth contemplated the predicament. They had enough money to last another month maybe with rent and bills and food or they could try and get some more goods and eek along through the period it would take before the cops gave in and supplies went up again.

They chose the latter, of course. The problem wasn't affording a small bit of F-Gel to redistribute, but in finding it. Word on the street was that a supplier was still out there but that most of his distributors were holding back from selling and were even less inclined to cut anyone else in on their piece of the pie. They had to find this distributor though, or some other source. There was light at the end of the tunnel in this regard.

Seth looked over to his feline friend who was slumped forward; head in paws. "Hey, I did get a lead on our friend with the shit though."

Eric's ears instantly perked and with them his entire body as he looked on anxiously. "You did?" Damn he sounded desperate, but Seth was too. Their stock of gel was down to only one more nights use.

The otter smiled and nodded. "Big Tom over on Broadview spilled the beans after I pressed him a bit on it. Now you chill out a bit and let me tell you how we can both score..."

*

Jack hung up his phone and flipped through his notebook. His usual suppliers had been more than able to get the items he requested in the five days he demanded.

Two hundred rifles at 17,500 dees apiece plus twenty-four shoulder fired missiles at 545,000 each plus fifty kilos of Type 44 explosive at 90,000 a kilo came out to a grand 19,450,000 dees; about 50% of that was profit for the club-running arms dealer. Any small time dealer could get a customer a gun for a thousand in a back alley, but Jack McAllistor specialized in providing his demanding customers with the cutting edge in military equipment.

The Centennial-Tech SM85's were hot off the drawing board and most government agencies didn't even have access to them yet. Jack could get them though, just with a nicely high price tag. Explosives could also be relatively cheap but once again the customer demanded the very best. Type 44 was the most potent (and expensive) explosive substance on the market; being highly sought after by elite special forces and terrorist groups alike. Lastly there were the missile launchers. Those were actually the hardest things to get; both high in demand and very strictly kept track of by the suits.

The gray fox wasn't sure what his client wanted it for, and he didn't really want to know. Just so long as the weapons weren't traced back to him all was ok. What he did care about was the money he was raking in off this sale. It was as much as he made in a typical year and the attention he might draw from the volume of merchandise was worth the risk.

Jack did demand a down payment though on any order: 10%. So the meerkat customer would be back later on in the evening with two million dees in cash. It was always a dangerous thing to have someone walk in the club with that much money, and the risk of being spotted by third parties was there as well. So McAllistor did what he always did for these occasions.

A good idea for nights like the one coming was some trusted security; and no two were more trust worthy than his brother and cousin. Patrick McAllistor was the younger brother of the pair and had spent most of his life in and out of trouble. The fox brother's parents had been extremely relieved when Jack 'rescued' Pat and got him to keep a job for the first time at the club. If they only knew their sons real trade they'd disown the both of them in shame. Then there was Allen, the cousin of the two and always a reliable man for the job.

A rough knock at the club door jolted the gray fox from his thoughts and sent his paw back around to his 5:00 to grip his pistol as he slowly walked up to the double doors. Eleven in the morning was an unusual time for a patron but sometimes it happened. Opening the door a peep, Jack raised a brow at a short and skinny otter standing outside with an anxious look. "Um... we open at five this afternoon."

Seth the otter started nervously. You didn't play around with a king pin like Big J. Actually, you didn't even go up to a major player like that, but times were desperate. "I need a hookup for me and my friend."

The vulpine's raised brow turned to a disgusted frown and he reached out quickly; grabbing the other by the shirt and yanking him inside before slamming the door shut. "What the hell are you coming to me for, you fucking junkie? Better yet how the fuck did you find me?"

Seth didn't have a good answer and simply looked dumbly down at the ground. Damnit, he needed to score here; Eric was counting on him and goddamn if he didn't need a fix. He summoned up the fortitude and looked the older vulpine in the eye. "Please, sir. We need this. We've done well on our own but we just can't get any gel anymore, ya know? I'm desperate man, I'll cut you in fifty percent on the profits, just help a guy out?"

McAllistor scoffed and shook his head. "You damn addicts are all the same... fucking hate you idiots." Jack meant it. He really did hate these morons who thought they could come right up to him. He found himself actually considering the deal though as most of his dealers had stopped selling due to the crackdown. This otter was also offering a half, which was a little more than the fox usually demanded. The pair shared a few moments of horribly uncomfortable silence before the fox went on again. "Alright, alright, fine. Come see me tonight when the club is open and we'll work something out."

The otter started to reply but was cut off by another rough tug on his shirt and Jack's voice. "You fuck me over and you're dead before you even know what you did. You got me?"

Seth nodded meekly. "Yes, I'll do whatever you ask, I swear."

"Good." Jack took out a tiny envelope from his back pocket and placed it in the others paw. "There's a little taste for you and your friend. I'll see you tonight."

Unbeknownst to the departing otter was the fact that the eyes of a graying coyote were watching him.

*

He ran as fast as his legs, fear, and adrenaline would carry him. Having long abandoned the stolen goods the badger risked a quick glance behind him. Fuck, the cops were still there and even closer than before. James had managed to get caught robbing a convenience store when it turned out there were a pair of cops in the back getting something to snack on. He managed to dash out the door but the mouse and canid uniformed duo were right on his ass.

Now here he was a few blocks down, ignoring the frantic calls of "Halt!" and "Stop!" He was not about to let any Blue Forest cop get their paws on him; James knew what they'd do.

The badger felt something hit his back forcefully and his ears picked up a loud crack. The pain didn't register at first, then intensely hit him a moment later. He was about to scream when another shot landed. It didn't hurt this time: His legs simply gave out and his muzzle went skidding into the cement. Then it got dark.

"Nice shooting, partner. Right in the spine with that second one."

The mouse grinned and holstered his sidearm as the pair panted their way up to the unmoving mass on the sidewalk. The pedestrians were starting to poke their noses back out from the hiding places they took upon hearing the gunfire but no crowd formed. Onlookers were a thing of the past in the Forest. Nobody cared anymore. Nobody noticed.

The firing of the police weapon sent the interface units of every other officer within the area going wild, and within a minute there were half a dozen BFPD on the scene including a male and female duo of plainclothes. The leopard in that pair flashed his detective badge and took over. He walked over to the mouse and mutt with his notepad. The coroner and ambulance were on the way and most of the officers had dispersed back to their usual patrols by now.

"Alright, what happened?"

The lab-looking mutt spoke. "Well, we were in the store down the road and were getting some food in the back when this guy walks in and holds the place up with a knife. He wouldn't stop, so Tom here shot him."

Jennifer looked back and forth between the dead badger and the pair of officers who did the shooting. This kind of thing would never happen in Spanfront. Those two would be discharged and tossed in the jail in a heartbeat. You never shot a fleeing suspect where she came from. The day was half over with now, and it'd been crazy. Everything here was different from the way they talked to dispatch to the way suspects were taken in. There were no rules for the police here.

Michael Rogers grumbled and shook his head. "Ok. Ride back with the coroner when he gets here and file an incident report with precinct."

That was it? Jen's horrified speculation was confirmed when the mouse and dog nodded and announced they'd wait here. Rogers okayed it and started off again. The female wolf followed her new partner; keeping a little more distance than usual this time.

*

Alex decided the otter had walked far enough, and he pulled his car off to the side of the road. Following the mustelid was a bit of a gamble, but the target wouldn't be around until later anyways. The otter did after all come out of Rush before business hours, so he might be one of McAllistors insiders.

The coyote had a strange feeling about this job; there was more too it than met the eye. The payment was extremely high for just waiting outside a nightclub to kill someone. That told the assassin a few things. First, the target's death would cause a lot of reverberations and repercussions in some circle or another. Second, the target was likely going to be well guarded.

Then there was Mr. Jack McAllistor, the secondary target. Everyone in the small circle that Alex ran with knew of the fox. There wasn't a tin pot dictator that Jack wasn't on a first name basis with these days, not to mention shadowy agencies and groups that dropped by for occasional special orders. Alexander Horrocks was under no orders to kill the fox, but it was good to plan for that too. If the showdown took place at the club then he'd have to contend with the arms dealer's security as well.

The short, hoodie-adorned otter was oblivious to the sharp dressed coyote approaching him until he got tapped on the shoulder, nearly causing him to trip over his own feet in surprise. "Jesus, what the fuck dude?"

Mr. Horrocks put on his salesman smile and extended a paw, which was hesitantly shook by Seth. "I have a proposition for you, one that I think will help us both."

Seth raised a brow. "Uh... I'm not a whore, if that's what you're getting at..."

The 'yote laughed. "Oh no, no no. That's not what this is, young friend." The otter eased up a bit but was still confused. Alex cleared that up. "I see you were visiting the owner of Rush?"

Seth fidgeted a bit, was this guy a narc? He sure didn't come off as a cop, so why was this old coyote following him? "Uh..yeah, I was talking some business with him

While he was talking, Alex was pulling out a small wad of cash, and he placed it in the otter's paw. "I too have business with Mr. McAllistor, if you can help me out, I can compensate you...here's a thousand dees for a down payment. There's five grand total. Oh and don't worry, this won't get you on his bad side..quite the opposite."

Seth's eyes went wide. This had to be a bad idea, but this guy was fucking loaded. "Well... alright, what do you want me to do?"

With the expertise of a career actor, Alexander Horrocks put on his best friendly face and explained.

*

Jennifer took a bite of her sandwich and stared down at the other half. The day was more than half over now; only a few hours left and she couldn't wait to get home and out of this city. Even from a "good" Blue Forest cop like Detective Rogers the brutality and indifference seemed stunning to her.

"What's up?" Her eyes moved back up towards the source of the jaguar's voice. He was staring back with an honest look of concern.

The female wolf looked back at him intently. "What's the matter with this town?"

Mike sat back and frowned; not the response he expected. "What do you mean?"

"I mean- I don't know what I mean. How does a place get this fucked up? How do you get away with being so brutal to the citizens here to the point that they don't even notice when you shoot some non violent thief down in the street?"

Her desperate eyes met his uneasy ones and she went on. "How do you save face here? You're like a saint in this police force but in any other you'd be under investigation faster than-than I don't know. Yet you can't even talk to your wife... I don't get it, don't mind me."

The cat stared blankly back at his new partner, he fought back a shiver as he felt goosebumps on his arms. A few other patrons of the restaurant were stealthily looking as well. The quick burst of static followed by the voice of dispatch provided a quick and timely salvation from the immediate situation. "322 respond to domestic violence call at 512 Barkley, Apartment C."

The female sighed and shook her head; she wasn't done. "This whole damn city is domestic violence."

The pair shared gazes a few tantalizing moments longer before the detective hit his talk switch. "Roger that." The jaguar left more than enough cash on the table to cover the costs and the pair silently made their way out.

The address was less than half a block away and within a minute or two the pair were at the apartments. As they went to knock on the doors Jen noticed an odd pair on the next block over. A sharply dressed middle-aged coyote led a ragged and twenty something otter. She turned her head to watch the unusual two get into the Coyote's car and drive off. The scene stuck in her mind more than it ought to have, and she had to shake it out as Mike pounded on the apartment door.

"Police, open up!"

She'd already gotten used to this routine since this was the third call of this nature so far today. Intrude in on some skanky couple in the middle of some fight or just after the fighting, break the two apart from the violence that ensued when one realized the other called the cops, take statements, haul someone in perhaps if it was bad enough, and be on their way.

Jennifer Cornell had had her share of domestic disputes in Spanfront but nothing of the sort she'd seen that day in Blue Forest. Everything in the Forest was just more intense and gritty somehow. It's as if the residents were taking out their anger of their situation on each other, and that's exactly what was likely occurring.

The situation in the apartment was nothing special. Just a pair of raccoons that got violent with their argument and spooked the kid. In Spanfront the aggressor would get hauled in for the night while the city decided whether it wanted to press charges. In Blue Forest there was no arresting for this behavior unless it was very violent; especially if that violence was directed towards an officer.

"They fight a lot but not this loud." Jen's ears perked up and she snapped back into reality at the sound of the little girl's voice. She'd taken to watching (and maybe getting a few answers out of) the young raccoon while Mike dealt with the parents.

She nodded and looked around the small room of the girl. On the one wall there was a poster of a beautiful tropical beach and Jennifer smiled and pointed to it. "What's that?"

The little raccoon grinned back. "That's where we're going to live someday when daddy gets a better job.

The wolf winced and forced another happy looking nod. Looking back to the door she noticed that Rogers was standing in it, which made her curious how long he'd been there. "Let's go", he said.

Jen patted the little girl beside her on the head and the pair of police walked back to the streets.

Mike's phone rang again and, after checking the ID, he put it away only to meet his partner's gaze once more. She smiled a little. "I'm sorry about earlier."

"It's fine."

"Why don't you talk to her, anyways?"

The question stopped him in his tracks and he tried to look angry with the answer but couldn't produce and expression other than dumbfounded. "I don't know really. We got married too fast and things just kind of floundered."

Jen put her paw on his shoulder comfortingly. "You should talk to her though." Mike sighed at those words, and flicked his slender tail at the touch. He told himself that very thing a dozen times a day but hearing it from someone else hit him in a different sort of way.

He smiled and nodded. "You're right, I'll call her. Tonight after work."

She grinned back and patted the big cat on the back. "Good! Let's get this day over with then."

*

The black sedan came to a gentle stop in front of some of the rare middle class apartments in the city. Alexander peered up at a particular window. The data file on Mr. Thomas Brinks said his ex-wife lived there. The coyote did not want to have to kill the meerkat at the nightclub; too messy a prospect.

Unfortunately the target was sporadic in where he spent his time. The workups said he kept in contact with his ex so that was good a start as any. He glanced in the rearview mirror and then around the area. Nobody was watching him.

"Hello Miss Evans. I'm from the city health department. There was a gas leak in the apartment below you and if you don't mind I'd like to stop by and take a sample or two; make sure everything is ok in your home."

The otter blinked at the strange story that Alexander was giving. It had enough plot holes so that anyone giving it serious consideration would realize it didn't make sense. The average person wouldn't give that consideration, however, as the female voice confirmed. "Um.. uh ok."

The door unlocked and the pair entered the complex. Seth was beginning to seriously worry about what he'd signed up for. This coyote's behavior was really weird and the young otter had not a clue what was going on or why he was needed to help with whatever it was. As they neared the door they were greeted outside it by a female meerkat who was eyeing the unusual pair with extreme skepticism. "I'm sorry, who are you again?"

Alex's paw quickly came up and met the female's muzzle; the other revealed a syringe that Seth hadn't noticed. The struggle only lasted a few split seconds until the needle made contact, which turned the flailing woman into a mass of dead weight that the coyote quickly dragged into the open door before any neighbors decided to take a peek in the hallway. "Get the door, Seth."

The otter blinked dumbly; unable to process what had happened in the last 5 seconds. He shook his head and turned to run, making for the glass door at the end of the hallway in the apartment. He stopped dead, heart racing as he saw the reflection in the glass and heard a thud. He raised his paws and looked back slowly. Sure enough Alex had dropped his unconscious victim and had a gun trained right on the otter's head. "I am not fucking around, get your paws down and your ass in here... and close the door."

The pair maintained eye contact a few more excruciating moments before Seth slowly and cautiously made his way inside.

Alex grumbled lowly and reholstered his pistol; motioning to the body on the ground. "Get her legs and we'll put her up on this couch here."

The otter shook his and held his palms out. "Now wait a minute man, I can't do this kinda thing."

Alex looked back up at the younger male with a genuinely confused look. "What? Sure you can, come on. You're still making a lot of money off this gig."

Seth's face turned to one of pure disguist. "It's not about the money you creep..."

"I don't care, this isn't up for discussion."

Seth sighed and grabbed the unconscious meerkat's legs and the two lifted on 3. He never realized how awkward it was to carry a body like that but they wrestled it up onto the couch. Alex immediately produced a collar that he put around the female's neck.

The collar was a gift from his employers. Where they got it Alexander didn't even bother to guess. He did like it though. The collar went around a subjects neck and the user had control of all the senses of the one who was collared. In this case Alex set the victims vocals and motor functions off. He didn't want a flailing and screaming bitch when he injected the adrenaline.

After glancing back at the otter and seeing that he was still as a statue Alex got the syringe that was the companion to the sedative. The coyote carefully pressed it into the female's neck and pressed the plunger; immediately producing a gasp and wide eyes from the immobile victim.

The assassin smiled in a frightening polite manner. "Hello again ma'am." She contorted her face as if in some great struggle. "Oh, yes, I should explain the collar." The canine knelt in front of the couch and leveled his muzzle with that of Miss Evans'. "That's a little toy I got a few weeks ago and I've been meaning to give it some actual field use. As you can surely notice by now you can neither move nor speak."

Seth watched the unusual spectacle with a sort of detached horror. What was this whackjob going to do to him?

Alex went on as he removed the small dagger from his belt; running the blade lightly across the back of a paw. "I assure you though. You will feel pain just fine. I have some questions and I want you to answer honestly. If this goes well I'll leave and this will all have just been a bad dream. If you understand please nod."

A weak nod from wet eyes satisfied the killer. "Ok good, glad we understand each other. Tell me, have you seen Thomas Brinks lately?"

A nod.

"Good." He smiled widely and patted the incapacitated meerkat on the head; garnering an angry glare from her. "Next. Has he told you of any unusual plans he has? Such as moving or buying large amounts of illegal weaponry?"

She neither nodded nor shook her head for several moments before deciding on the latter.

Seth sighed and sat on the floor as Alex continued his bizarre interrogation. "Are you sure about that? You seem a bit hesitant." The coyote slowly twirled the blade around; settling it on the little finger of his victim.

The otter didn't really see what happened which in hindsight was probably a good thing but the sudden heavy breathing of Miss Evans perked his ears and drew his attention to the sawing motion of Alex's arm. He stopped after about ten seconds and held something up to his eyes and made a dramatic grimace. "Oh now that is just gross. Please don't make me do that again, ok? Dulls my knife and really isn't necessary."

The meerkat was slightly shuddering now; all she could manage under the restraint of the collar while Alex tossed the severed finger over his shoulder; about sending Seth's lunch back up his throat.

*

The large and imposing wolf, his uniform straddled with ribbons and medals snarled loudly and threw down a folder on the desk in front of him. The noise that action generated was enough to snap to attention the vixen sitting behind the desk.

"Madam Assemblywoman, what the hell is this?"

The female politician quickly regained her composure and glared back at the wolf. "Exactly what it looks like, General Vaughn. I'm having an agent bust this gun-running scum, Jack McAllistor."

General Vaughn sighed and took a seat. He glanced at the papers and back up to the Assemblywoman. "Assemblywoman Hopkins, being an army man I can say few people care as much as I about the illegal arms trade."

"Then you should be more than happy to see this scum out of business."

"Of course, but we need more time to track down more of his associates. If you move on McAllistor now then we lose all chance of that."

The vixen folded her paws on her desk and gave her best sincere politician look. "The people would want this done now though, not later."

The wolf rolled his eyes and had to refrain himself. It was so obvious to him what was really going on. "Assemblywoman it's no secret there's an election coming up in two weeks and you're neck and neck in the polls." No reaction. "Let me make myself clear. If you do this you lose the army. Period."

He stood and put his jacket back on. "Good day, Assemblywoman."

There was more to it then polls though. What the self-centered little bitch didn't understand was that Mr. McAllistor was no regular gun runner. Sure he supplied criminals and that's what the government was on to him for. What the government in general didn't know was that Jack McAllistor also supplied secret agencies that couldn't just requisition equipment; agencies that needed to be totally untraceable.

General Vaughn had ordered a top notch professional to take out the government agent who was to conduct the sting operation. If McAllistor got busted then the whole box of secrets would be blown wide open in time. If the buyer couldn't be stopped then Jack would have to be killed. Killing his favorite arms dealer though... no, that wasn't going to happen.

He sighed to himself and unclipped his cell phone and flipped though his address book. There was only one way out of this mess, and that would be a long shot. He found the entry he was searching for and dialed.

The line rang 4 times before a tired, and familiar, voice answered. "Captain Le Blanc."

"Hey Jon."

There were a few moments of crackly silence before a light chuckle came from the other end. "Good gods.. Colonel Vaughn?"

Good, he remembered the voice. The current police captain was formerly a lieutenant in the army and had served on the (then) colonel's staff. "Well it's Lieutenant-General now, but I'll take 'Colonel'."

Another light chuckle and a slightly confused tone emanated from the police station end of the line. "Well uh, what can I do for you? This is a bit out of the blue."

"Well actually it's some police work."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. You see, I'm sure you're aware of a Mr. Jack McAllistor."

A low grumble greeted the general on that statement. "That fucker. We've been trying to pin something on him for years now on everything from arms dealing to substance possession. He's like jello though: No matter what we nail to him he just slides out from around it."

The wolf grinned widely to himself. "Well, the army wants him in custody, and I mean right away; this very night. Don't you worry about charges. I assure you we have that all handled."

"Um.. well ok. This is a bit strange and all but I'll send a few officers over there undercover and snag him for you. Oh and sir? If it was anyone else at all making such an unofficial request.."

"I understand. I owe you, Jon."

*

Alexander walked over to the TV in the apartment, the cooking show that was on had provided decent background noise to his nefarious activities. He reached a paw over to the volume control and eased it up.

The past hour was a total waste, he got no useful information at all. The otter kid had spaced out by now, hopefully he had useful data. With the volume turned up loud on Miss Brinks' television, the assassin unholstered his suppressed 22. He took aim at his victims forehead, and gave the trigger two squeezes.

Seth perked up at hearing the muffled shots, he saw the meerkat's body roll onto the floor, not moving, and the two shell casings dancing on the floor. He watched as Alex walked towards him, holstering his gun. "Now, my young friend, let's talk about what you know about Thomas Brinks."

The otter realized it now. This psychopath assumed he knew about this lady's husband or whatever. He was sadistic, too... didn't have any moral barriers to what he'd do to get what he needed. Seth stammered. "Hey now, look buddy. I just met him today, we were- I was, trying to get some F-Gel."

The well attired older man seemed to look off into the distance, realizing that he heard honestly in Seth's voice. Either that or a good liar. It didn't matter, there wasn't time to linger here and interrogate him. He motioned towards the door, and his hostage knew it was time to leave.

*

The pair of detectives were starting to meander back towards the station seeing as the day was over for them.

"Hey you two." Jen turned her head at the vaguely familiar voice to see Captain Le Blanc coming out of a coffee shop.

Mike smiled and pointed to the female wolf. "She's done great, Cap. We're on our way back in right now actually."

The panther nodded a bit and looked around himself in a strange manner. "Not so fast. I need you two to go over to Rush and get Jack McAllistor out of there." The black feline produced a slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to Rogers who took it slowly.

"What's this?"

After checking to see if the coast was clear once more the captain spoke. "That's a fake warrant. We need him in tonight, absolutely. He's about to pull some crazy shit. Don't worry about that warrant, we just need him off the street this one night."

"Wait." The two males turned to the new voice in the conversation. She meant to object. She couldn't go along with anymore of this nonsense, but one look at Mike's desperate look changed her opinion. He was worried about going to that club, it was very apparent. Jen couldn't let him go there alone then; it'd have to be one more bit of bullshit then this night could be over. "Never mind.." She grinned at her partner as convincingly as possible. "Let's get going."

*

The music of the nightclub could be heard from outside as the early crowd began to file in. The doors for Rush opened at 6PM, making it a popular club for those not wanting to be out an entire night. Patrick, the younger brother of Jack McAllistor, acted as a bouncer.

His real job though was to inform his brother when the meerkat and company arrived, and at about 6:30 that's exactly what happened. All he had to do was invite the group in and send a page to Jack. "Welcome, Gentlemen. Mr. McAllistor is waiting for you at his booth at the far side of the dance floor. Your drinks are on the house tonight."

Thomas Brinks, the meerkat nodded and brushed past the gray fox with his posse and into the club.

The customers filed in steadily tonight. A few minutes later a sharply dressed coyote, and a young, terrified looking otter made their way up to the door. Patrick held up his paw. "Hey, got some ID kid? You look like you're about to shit your pants."

Alexander chuckled and explained while Seth sheepishly produced his license. "Yeah, he's never been in a place like this so he's a bit nervous. I'm his boss and figured I'd give him a bit of a bonus today."

Patrick grinned and patted the otter on the head. "Not a thing to worry about, little man. Have fun."

A few spots behind them in line Jen stood on her toes to glare at the coyote and otter entering the club. She remembered seeing them earlier and thinking it was out of place. Once they got in Mike led them over to the bar. "Might as well have a drink first. We're technically off duty."

Alexander also led his companion to the bar and ordered a beer for himself and the otter. "Relax. I apologize for you having to see what you did earlier, but I thought you had the information I needed."

Seth stared back with utter contempt and said nothing.

"You just do what I say and I swear you will be released, and you'll be well paid as promised."

The coyote sighed and scanned the club. It was already getting near to full and he could just barely see McAllistor in the back at his usual spot. Alex expertly picked out one, two, and three security made easy to spot with their earpieces. He'd keep an eye one them and then-

There he was. The coyote sat up in his seat as his target came into view headed towards Jack McAllistor. He tapped his captive otter on the shoulder. "Ok. I want you to head back to that back table back there." He pointed it out. "Tell that fox that Alex is here to talk business."

Seth sighed and nodded. "Ok.."

A few moments after the otter left the table Alexander got to work; making a beeline right for the nearest security. He still had an extra syringe and he pricked the earpieced raccoon in the back of the neck so expertly that even if someone were watching they'd not have seen the attack. The coon feel to the floor completely unconscious and Alex got out of there quickly before too much attention was drawn to the body on the floor; he only had 30 seconds or so for this whole thing to go down.

A weasel was next on the list as the gray-muzzled coyote approached quickly from behind. He grabbed the skinny boy's neck and gave it a perfect twist. With a crack and a few spasms the weasel fell to the floor, but this time it was defiantly noticed as the scream from a nearby vixen signaled.

Jennifer Cornell immediately stood up, she too saw what the mysterious coyote had just done; though the scream was muffled by the music. "Holy shit Mike!"

The Jaguar was up just as quick and looked around frantically "What?"

She lost the coyote in the crowd and began to push her way through; her partner in tow. "That coyote just fucking snapped some guy's neck!"

Detective Rogers pulled his badge out and held it up high; also forcing his way though the throngs "Police! Coming through!"*

Alex growled and unholstered his .45, drawing more screams from those standing near him, but that didn't matter anymore. The last security was a short red fox making his way towards the fallen weasel to see what had happened. Big mistake.

The coyote raised his pistol right as the fox got near him, and in a few earsplitting seconds landed three rounds into the vulpine's chest; sending the fox to the floor in a bloody heap.

A split second later the entire club was chaos as the music went off with a ripping sound and a few seconds later two more shots rang out; sending the crowd into an even wilder frenzy.

This time the bullets were coming at Alex, not from him. The Meerkat and his group scrambled around and one of them took a few poorly aimed potshots at the coyote, one of which struck the screaming vixen from a few moments before in the shoulder. Jack seemed to be gone; probably whisked away by Seth as planned.

Thomas Brinks looked over the wild crowd trying to see the shooter. Again his ears registered the painful snap of gunshots as his two companions both went down with expertly placed rounds.

Alex had a stone-cold look across his face, no emotion. Acting on pure instinct from decades of experience his thumb pressed the magazine release, and before the mag even hit the floor his other paw was bringing up a fresh one. This was almost too easy..

The target went for his gun but the coyote was quicker: Two in the chest and one square in the forehead of the meerkat ended this little chase and assured Alexander Horrocks of a nice paycheck.

With that done he quickly turned to face the door and began to follow the crowd out, only to find a pair with guns drawn making their way against the grain towards him. Cops, no doubt about it.

They didn't see him yet so he raised his gun and took careful aim at the male of the duo. He rapidly let off five or six shots; trying to take them both out in one burst.

*

Jen didn't see anything, just heard another horrible set of bullets and felt a terribly strong pair of hits in her chest and she hit the floor gasping for air and tasting blood in her muzzle. She struggled around a bit and when her eyes cleared of tears she saw that Mike was in even worse shape, but couldn't see just how bad. The Coyote..

Alex made his way past the two squirming police. They weren't dead but he had to get out of here right away. Thoughts of his evening routine of tea and reading then bedtime were already crossing his mind. He always was happier, after all, when he was-

The coyote froze and turned around slowly. He already knew what was waiting, but he turned around anyways. Alex stared down the barrel of the female officers pistol, then looked back up at her briefly.

This is where Horrocks' survival insticts would take over, where his decades of killing experience would guide his own weapon and shoot first. Except, they didn't take over. His hand clumsily fumbled across the grip of his forty-five, never getting a proper purchase on it. The most sure-handed of hands making a fatal error. The next half of a second or so felt like an eternity to Alex, and he relished in the moment. He'd imagined this moment many times before. Wondered how it would happen, and when it would happen. The slightest hint of a smile started to cross his face as he locked eyes with his opponent. The lady wolf's paw had been shaking as she tried to take aim the entire time. Of all the highly skilled killers he'd offed, this trembling wounded girl had him.

That's what was wrong with this job, it was his last. with that, Alex heard the last gunshot of his life.

*

Jennifer crawled over painfully to the squirming jaguar; petting his hair softly. He wasn't going to last long. Mike was reaching into his pocket, trying desperately to grab something. He didn't finish though; didn't get the chance.

The female wolf sighed heavily and laid back a few moments before reaching down into the fallen detective's pocket to see what he was reaching for in his last moments. It was his cell phone, and she opened it up:

Missed call 6:41PM

Patricia Rogers

She lied back and just lay there awhile. She wanted to do something but things were starting to get blurry and the wolf knew she was going to pass out pretty soon. It was ok though; the sirens were already audible.

*

She came to in the hospital and was greeted by the relieved face of Captain Le Blanc. "Oh finally.. I was worried about you Jennifer. I'm so sorry I had you two go there, it was stupid.. so stupid."

The wolf grumbled and shifted around in her bed; yelping a bit as she rolled over on her left side. A quick peek showed her shoulder with bloody bandages all over it.

"You took a shot in the chest and two in the shoulder there. That vest saved your life." He put his paw up to his forehead and rubbed it uncomfortably. "Mike uh.. wasn't so lucky. Got it in the arm and neck."

"Ugh.. what the fuck happened back there."

The panther lowered his head and sat on the bed next to his rookie officer. He shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. I really, really don't know."

She sighed and relaxed her muscles, trying to stop the hurting. What a pointless death for Michael Rogers: Shot dead by some random crazed coyote in a nightclub. It just didn't feel right, it didn't make sense, it all seemed so spontaneous.

Jen felt a friendly pat on her leg. "Well. You take as much time as you need off, and I understand if you want to go back to Spanfront. You need anything at all, you call."

She nodded. "Ok.. thanks."*

Saturday evening was the police funeral. It wasn't an uncommon thing in Blue Forest. Fifty a year wasn't unheard of. This was no different. There was a color guard in front followed by the carried casket.

In the old days a good crowd of onlookers would gather, but on this drizzly day only a few assorted family members and curious passersby stopped to watch. Just like everything else in Blue Forest: Nobody cared.

Jennifer Cornell was among them, and she held back her emotions as her partner of one day was carried past. Giving her sling-ridden arm a few rubs she wearily wandered back towards the apartment she was staying in when something caught her eye.

The wolf gravitated towards the music and lights and entered The Spinning Disk club; drawing a lot of curious stares. Not many females showed up there; even fewer in police uniform with a fairly nasty looking shoulder wound.

A large and very busy panther behind the bar immediately stopped and waved the newcomer over in a familiar manner. Jen took the seat slowly and rested her elbows on the bar.

Cedric sighed and simply gave her an understanding nod. "What can I get you?"

Jen thought a moment, then looked back up. "Bourbon."