FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I woke to the feeling of the warm sun shining on my face. As sensations took hold of my senses a few things became immediately obvious. For one thing I was still wrapped not only in a warm blanket, but also the warm embrace of another fur. My nose took in the faint scent of apples, and the over powering scent of sex, so I felt safe in assuming it was Angel atop my warm body. The sun must have been nearly at its upper most arcs judging by the position of its beams in the room. And lastly I could hear a faint buzzing in the room every so often originating somewhere near the corner of the room near the door. I felt my sleeping partner stir and then snuggle tighter to my chest. As she shifted I felt her breasts push into my fur, her nipples rubbing in particularly deep due to their hardness, and I felt another friend in the room stir. As with all males I suffered from a recurring problem in the morning: morning wood. I call it a problem, but in all honesty it wasn't that bad, and this morning it could even prove useful.

I lifted my paw slowly to the top of her head. With gentle ease I lowered it to her head fluff and I let out a low, but satisfied murr when I felt how soft it was. I slowly dragged my claws through her hair making sure to allow them to scratch at her scalp softly. This action seemed to please the young vulpine for she let out her own audible murr that reminded me of a nasal growl coming from the fox. I stroked her head a few times like this, simply enjoying how very pleasant her hair was to touch, but she soon ended my fun by moving her head to look at me. I knew by the look in her eyes that she still held no regret for her actions the night before.

"I have never had the guts to sleep with one of my uncle's goons before. I wonder what he would say if he saw you and I together?" She said with a coy grin. I let out a slow breath as I imagined Capoletti gouging my eyes out with a set of salad spoons.

"I have a feeling it wouldn't end too well for me. Think you can keep our romp last night our little secret?" I asked. I had to ask. I needed to know if I would regret letting myself have a little bit of cake with my ice cream.

"Oh hell sweetie, of course I will keep it a secret from my uncle." She replied. I gave a sigh of relief until, "For a price."

"What do you need me to do?" I asked as I gave her a worried look. This girl didn't seem the type to need someone taken care of. What could she need a hired thug for?

"Two things honey. One, I need you to promise me that if I ever need a favor that you will do it without question." She told me. I thought it over then gave her a nod. I amused myself by imagining her asking me to kill off her exes.

"What about the second part?" I asked after a few moments of silence. She gave me another coy grin and then she sat up on top of me. As her body moved I watched her busty breasts sway teasingly in the air, mere inches from the tip of my snout. I could smell her perfume, which had hints of apple. I would have to ask her later if she had a thing for that particular fruit. I would have right then and there, but her next action took me by surprise. She laid her paws on the sides of my neck and lifted my head so that my face was buried between those lovely mounds. As I struggled slightly from both shock and the slight feeling of being smothered, it caused my cheeks, nose and lips to nuzzle into her large plume of super soft chest fur. She cooed her approval with soft growls of lust.

"I want you to fuck me like you did last night so I can remember it better. My high made most of our romp nothing but a blur, but I know for a fact that I have never had such an amazing orgasm..." She replied before gripping my hair softly and tilting my head back, forcing my eyes to look into hers. As we took in each other's eyes I suddenly reached up and pulled her head down to mine so that our lips met in a deep, passionate kiss.

As we kissed I could feel her body heat up slowly. My fur rippled as I too warmed up from the intense feeling of her soft, moist lips caressing my own. I felt her hands move to my back slowly so that she could hold onto my hard body while my own explored her back and sides. Her feminine curves were the most perfect shape I had ever found on a female; holding onto her felt like I was truly holding a giant hourglass, except her fur was smoother than any glass. As she pulled her head apart from mine I felt a pang of disappointment mixed with a desperate need I had never felt before. That need was soon fulfilled however when she once again held my head firmly between her large breasts. This time, instead of struggling like an idiot, I embraced her tighter to my body so that I could enjoy the softness and warmth of her bosom fully. My lips soon laid soft kisses to her chest between those breasts my head was secured between. At the feeling of my lips going to work I felt Angel let her grip on my head loosen.

As soon as my head was allowed a little more freedom I took complete advantage of it. My lips blazed a trail from her middle chest to her left nipple. On the way to that perky peak I made sure that my kiss trail led all around her breast. I wanted to tease her for now so I made sure that when I reached her nipple I only kissed the edge of her areola. I heard her whine in need after a few soft kisses so I gave in to her needs and wrapped my lips around the hardened nub. She gave a soft cry of pleasure when her sensitive pink nipple was nursed by my needy lips. I made sure to use my tongue on the tip of her nipple while my lips gave soft suckles. I could feel her body shiver from the pleasure that I was sending through her.

After a time, I let go of her nipple and allowed her a short moment to enjoy a few breaths while her body stopped it's quivering. I then set my lips on her other nipple and I felt her hands grip my hair tightly. It pleased me how sensitive this fox was to my ministrations. Each suckle of my lips, lick of my tongue, nip of my teeth or movement of my hand sent another wave of pleasure through her. I had never seen a woman respond so well to foreplay. I was so entranced by her reactions I had barely noticed her body moving up slightly, I did feel when her body suddenly dropped down again though, because her tight cunt engulfed my stiff cock in its tight embrace once again.

I had forgotten just how surprisingly tight this little fox slut's cunt was around my meat shaft. Whether it was my size or her well taken care of body that deserved the credit for the tight fit didn't matter. All that mattered was how great we both felt as my thick shaft penetrated her warm tunnel. Her body gave a shudder and she let out a silent cry as her face lifted up to face the ceiling. I fell gently back down on the bed so that I could grab her hips tightly in my paws. Her hands found their way to my shoulders and I felt them grip tightly while she dug her claws in a bit. I winced in slight pain, but I soon forgot about it when her hips began to bounce on mine. The soft sound of her fleshy folds suckling on my cock when I would enter and exit her moist pussy filled our ears. I found myself compelled to look down so that I could see our bodies join together over and over. I had to be sure it was my cock and I wasn't dreaming.

Soon her moaning, and the occasional taking of God's name in vain, over powered the sound of our love making. Between her moans I heard the sound of the bed springs groaning and squeaking in protest to the violent thrashing of the bed. Violent thrashing was a complete understatement once Angel got herself going. I felt her legs flex as she rose and fell on my tall shaft and as every inch filled her over and over my mind soon clouded with a lustful haze. My hands took on minds of their own as I began to help her body bounce faster and harder on my lap. I put my head back as I let out moans of pure ecstasy and my claws dug into the flesh of her hips. When I felt her skin break under my claws I felt a small spark of regret, but it was short lived when the horny slut on top of me moaned even louder than before. The sound of it seemed to cause my blood to boil and filled my body with a renewed vigor. I renewed my pace and made sure to slam her body down harder than ever with the strength of my arms.

"Holy fucking God... I remember this feeling from last night... fuck me 'til I cum you son of a bitch!" She screamed as I felt her body spasm in anticipation of her impending orgasm.

Hearing her soft voice say such naughty things sent me into frenzy. My pace never slowed, not even when I felt my arms burn from the action of lifting her body over and over. All that mattered was making sure that her cunt milked my cock until we both shared another passionate orgasm like the night before. And that's exactly what happened. I gave it my all as our bodies grew hot and our breaths became staggered and sporadic. Finally, with one particularly well aimed thrust into her cunt, my hard cock tip slammed into the nub of super sensitive flesh clustered with nerves inside her. Her pussy clamped down hard on my tense shaft and her screams could easily be heard from the street below. I felt a rush of her warm honey wash over my cock, then another, and another, and as her body was rocked by multiple orgasms her cunt heartily nursed my flesh tower for my thick wolf seed. I couldn't help giving in to her body's need so I gladly filled her contracting cunt with half a dozen shots of warm cum.

I felt the familiar feeling of her light body falling onto mine. Her soft shivers and shudders of pleasure gave me a certain amount of satisfaction. Here I was pleasing a girl who no doubt had been around the block a few times, and I knew I had done her good from how her body felt even now. She was no doubt going to be calling on that favor of hers soon enough, but I wasn't so sure it would be any sort of job like CC's or Anthony's...

We relaxed for an hour after that lovely romp. Her head rested once more on my chest and her soft, slow breaths would wash over my fur pleasantly. I could feel her paw kneed at my chest every so often in a relaxed way and I took a moment each time to give her head a gentle stroke of my paw. I could see myself settling down in the future if I could get away from the villains in my life, and I imagined what it would be like to claim this girlie as my mate. Having this incredibly beautiful vixen on my arm was appealing from the outside, but trust would always be an issue with someone like her. Even as she lay with me I wagered that somewhere else in Liberty City there was probably a man pining after her. He might even be living in the building below or above me. No, she would never do, at least not as a mate. For now she would only be a fuck buddy if she continued to pursue me in the bedroom.

Judging by the position of the sun it was about 1:30 when she finally sat up and allowed my now flaccid shaft to slip free of her warm folds. It quickly receded into my sheath giving me an immediate sense of relief. When I sat up she was already slipping into her clothes from the night before. I watched her cover her beautiful body with the tattered dress and I felt a pang of pity for her. I knew she would be out again that night, probably drugged up, probably letting some man fuck her brains out, and forgetting completely about her own self respect. I wondered how she could sleep at night knowing what she allowed to happen to her body each night, but then it wasn't really any of my business what she did. She would do as she would please, and not even her power hungry uncle would stop her. I bid her farewell when she left the bedroom, and when I heard the entrance to my apartment open and close I knew she was gone.

I rose from my new bed and observed the total mess we had made of it. The idea of fixing it up bored me so I decided to get in a shower instead. I crossed the hall into the bathroom I had seen the night before during my fox hunt and soon I was standing under the water in my new shower. The hot water cascaded down and matted down my thick fur. I watched the droplets splash into the ceramic floor of the tub underneath me and I soon found my vision filled with red. Each drop of water went crimson and took on a new thickness when they hit the tub. Dozens of small impacts sent the red droplets out in small circles like a carpet bombing. I soon smelled the familiar scent of blood and visions of Vincent's limp body in my arms filled my head. I felt the quiver of his body in shock. I felt the last breath leave his lips and rush past my face. I screamed and shook violently where I stood and in a blur the visions left me and I was once again in my new bathroom. The water took on its crystal clear hue and I let out a breath of relief.

After my rather eventful shower I dressed myself in a pair of fresh jeans, a new pair of sneakers I found in the closet, a white t-shirt and a dark blue hooded sweatshirt with "I Love Liberty" written on the front in red white and blue striped letters. I finally finished grooming myself, happy to do so with my new bathroom being so nicely stocked, then I made my way over to my pile of dirty laundry. I figured I would at least try to keep the new place tidy and respectable for company. It was then that I felt the small lump in my old jeans' pocket vibrate a reminder of the received text message. I removed the small plastic device and opened up the last text I had been sent.

"Good work boy, come by the deli ASAP. -CC" I read aloud slowly. I was simply filled with joy and ecstasy. I would soon be getting another of his special jobs today. I left the bedroom after placing all the clothes in a wicker hamper in the closet. Once I was back in the living room I took a seat on my new couch and found it to be quite firm and lacking the painful creaking of my old one. I gave my body a bit of a bounce to see if the quick movements would elicit a groan or squeal of protest and again it was silent. I smiled to myself, pleased with the obvious upgrade to my life. Yes, I spent a few minutes of my short life experimenting with weight distribution on my new couch. None of you can tell me that you haven't wasted precious moments on asinine activities... I digress.

I deleted the message to help erase any possible paper trails that could be linked between me and my current "employer." I then wracked my brain until I could feel the pulse in my skull trying to remember my friend Debra's number. When I was confident I had remembered all the digits I punched them in and gave her a ring. As the silence changed to the soft purring pulse of the ring back tone in my ear I took time to notice how the apartment felt warmer than it should at this time of day. It dawned on me that this new place must have central air, which I was glad for because climate control was important when you had a body covered in thick fur. I was so absorbed in my own childish wonderings that Debra had to repeat hello twice before I heard her and responded.

"Eh? It's me Alex. This is my new cell phone I am calling you on." I replied as I pulled my attention from the room and place it on my friend's soft voice.

"Alex?! Oh my God, are you ok? I was so worried when you didn't come back and didn't come back. Are you hurt? Are you dead? Are you calling me from the other side? Go towards the light you idiot!"

"Oh ha-ha, very fucking funny. I am fine and living the good life in my new apartment. It's a gift from my new employer." I responded with a soft chuckle near the end. I was glad to hear her joking in the state she was in.

"Oh shit, don't tell me you are working for these people now..." She said in less of an order and more of a pleading way.

"It's not like I have much of a choice. Anthony got me involved with them and knowing him I would be making a very big mistake angering his friends. It's better that I do what I have to now so I can get away from these people."

"Oh Alex, those kinds of people never collect their debts, they use the people they hate until they die..."

"For now let's look at that as... job security. I don't like the work, but its earning me money which I need. And besides I am making some pretty good friends, maybe I can get favors later if I do well." I said. I hoped I was convincing her that this choice to be used was acceptable. Whether she truly objected or not was really of no consequence to me but I was eager to get the approval of my only true friend in this impossibly large city.

"Alex... I can't approve of this life style choice of yours. But I told you before that you would always have a friend in me. So if this is really what you want... just be safe dog boy."

"I will, mom. Now I want you to meet me for lunch at the Burgershot on San Quentin Ave. Can you make it there?"

"I will, but someone still has my car so I will have to take a cab. You owe me ten bucks." She replied with a sweet chuckle.

"Alright see you there."

I hung up the phone then sighed. I had forgotten that she let me use her car. I also forgot that someone else had been driving it and there may, or may not, be things missing. It would be a total pain in the ass to explain that to Debra. I stood from my comfy seat on the couch and paced over to the door of my apartment. I noticed a set of key hooks on the wall and on one of them was hung Debra's set of keys. Along with her car key was a small key chain made of thick plastic that encased a paper with a quote written on it, "Don't like my driving? Stay the hell off the sidewalks!"I chuckled to myself when I read it, then my eyes focused on a small key chain made of gold, or at least done up to look gold. It was shaped like a heart and had her name and the name of her ex chiseled into it, but her ex's name was crudely covered by a thick, sloppy "X." Under the "X" was a word that honestly resembled real life chicken scratch but it was clear that it said, "no man." Her unique attitude and loner life style always impressed me, but made me just as jealous. I wished I could handle things better on my own, like her.

After taking the key from the hook I left my apartment and locked up. I made my way down the stairs past the few floors I lived above. The smells of the evening meals still clung to the air providing a very pungent stench that made my eyes water at times. Due to the weather recently it was no surprise the windows were closed firmly shut on each floor. Almost every other day a torrential rain storm would wash through and cast the sky in clouds of dismal gray hues. Once outside I gave a sigh of relief that I was in the fresh air of the outside, until a truck drove by sputtering noxious gasses from its exhaust pipes. I made my way over to the cozy little Blista Compact and once I was settled inside I turned it on with the key. I searched the car thoroughly for evidence of theft or at least recent rummaging. To my relief there was absolutely nothing out of place in the car. I would have to thank the orca later when I visited the delicatessen.

The trip to Bohan was uneventful. The streets and other cars passed by in a sea of blurred colors and lights. I would stop from time to time to allow someone to j-walk or to allow a beat cop to pursue a criminal on foot. I barely noticed when I reached the East Borough Bridge, or when I pulled off that bridge in South Bohan. When I finally parked outside the Burgershot I was pleased to see the perky brown ears of my bunny buddy. I made my way to the front doors of the fast food joint and then ordered a small salad meal. The damn thing came to me smothered in what I hoped was ranch dressing. I thanked the cocoa skinned Puerto Rican woman behind the counted and got a half hearted reply back, then I made my way over to the table to join my friend.

I had honestly never seen her out of her usual garbage pickup uniform. She was about 4'8 and had a very curvy body to her. She was dressed in a light pink cardigan with a tight fitting white shirt under that. The shirt did a very nice job of holding in her breasts which I just noticed were nice and perky. I wagered she was wearing a pushup bra, but I would never ask. Her pants were made of simple denim, but their size was one too small so her legs were packed in nicely to show off how round her hips just were. Her coat of fur was a nice cocoa brown with a very attractive white tuft of fluff on her chest that her shirt was just low enough to reveal. Her eyes were brown as well, but they were so dark that it gave her eyes the impression of having no irises at all. I suppose that she noticed my eyes admiring her as I walked to her, because when I looked at her face her lips were curled in a very despicable smirk.

"My eyes are up here, boy." She told me with a mischievous tone.

I rolled my eyes to save face, though I could feel my cheeks burn from the embarrassment of being caught ogling her. I sat in the hard plastic chair opposite her and set my food out in front of me, "Hey not my fault you decided to go out today wearing your little sister's clothes."

"Excuse me, but these are my clothes. And it's not like I mind your eyes on me, but I like people to say hello before they undress me with their eyes." She replied with a wink. Damn her and her spunk! I always felt like a teen around this woman.

"I brought your car so you can take her back. She served me well, but I doubt the poor thing will be able to handle the jobs I will no doubt be doing soon." I handed the key to her as I spoke.

"Dog boy, what have you gotten yourself into this time?" She asked as she put her keys in her purse on the chair beside her.

I told her every detail of the past day and a half. I left out the part about sleeping with the drugged up slut of course, but every other gory detail was hers to listen to. I even described the visions I had in my shower earlier. The blood, the body of my ex best friend in my arms, the feeling of my soul breaking... it felt good to share with her. Her face remained solid and unemotional throughout my story telling, but I noticed her ears betray her stone faced demeanor. They had been perked and happy, a sign of her contention what with her body having healed quickly and having her car back. As I went on those perky ears slowly drifted down. Occasionally I would notice them twitch, particularly when I put into detail the slaying of Vincent with a blade in his throat. When I finished she took a swift drink of her soda that she has been nursing since my arrival. After dousing her throat in the poisonous, sugary soft drink she looked at me. Her face once again gave away nothing of how she felt, but her eyes did nothing to hide her concern for me.

"Things aren't going to get easier dog boy. You sound like you're a character in some dramatic movie with b-list actors. I want you to promise me that you won't lose track of who you are, Alex. You are a kind, gentle spirit; I have seen it many times. I know you have great potential to be strong, but do not allow your strength to corrupt you. Do what you have to do, but live your life as you want. No matter what these people demand of you, remember that you are a man who is free. Understand me?" She demanded of me as I watched and listened. I was stricken with awe and reverence. I had always known she worried for me, but this... it was touching.

"I understand Debra. I will remember your words no matter what I may end up doing. Thank you for helping me..."

"What do you mean? I haven't done a thing yet except threaten you, heh." She replied as her voice gave away that I had embarrassed her with my sudden gratitude.

"As I told you, I have been haunted by what I have done. Not much time has passed and I already had visions in my head of my crimes. But your words have touched me, and I feel like you have brought me out of my dark place and back into the light. So thank you for being such a good friend and not judging me. Thank you for giving me such good advice. And thank you for giving me a positive role model to follow." I added the last statement with a hint of mischief in my voice. To add to my tone I stuck my tongue out between my lips in a teasing gesture.

Debra laughed heartily at my facial gesture and nudged my shoulder lightly with her paw. We sat for a time and enjoyed more pleasant conversation. She asked me about how I felt getting behind the wheel of a car again after spending so long riding with others. I asked her about her time in the hospital during our time apart when I blew the Fishmarket to hell. She told me how she would watch the doctors rush people in and out like the express line at a super market. A young man would come in with severe burns and leave fifteen minutes later completely fine. One thing I had to hand to Liberty City: things sure happened fast. After I finished my tasteless meal and had my fill of conversation I bid my friend farewell and then left the restaurant.

I flagged a cab to the side of the road and climbed in. This particular cab was perfectly clean, something rare for the South Bohan area of Liberty, and smelled of strawberries. I noticed the driver was a rather large and intimidating black furred bull anthro. I amused myself with visions of him being a drag queen after dark, wearing a blonde wig with large bulbous buns on either side to mask his sharpened horns. I noticed him giving me a questioning look from the rear view mirror and I quickly called out my destination. After he pulled off from the curb and began the long ride from Bohan to Alderney City, I sat back and relaxed to the sound of the trance beat of the radio. To my relief the driver was listening to Electro Choc, one of the few stations with decent music playing at this time of day. I grew so comfortable in my seat I barely kept track of time or place as the car rocked with each turn. Before I knew it the driver was pulled over in front of CC's delicatessen and demanding his 50 bucks. Knowing the state of my bank account I happily handed over the large bill and stepped out of the lovely scented cab.

I stepped into the delicatessen and immediately came face to face with Angel. She was standing behind the counter in her lovely kitchen clothes that hugged her curves and teased the eyes with subtle glimpses of her more "sensual" gifts. She gave me a soft smile and a wink which sent shivers from the base of my neck to the tip of my curled tail. I gave her a nod to acknowledge her and stepped around the counter to the door of the kitchen. To the right of the door the young man who usually manned the front was mopping up what had to be nearly a gallon of brown sauce from the floor. The stout pig from the day before was overseeing the cleaning. I gave a soft chuckle because I could see from the young man's face that this was a punishment, possibly for making the mess in the first place. I gave the kitchen a scan then searching for the last member of the staff that I would recognize. There, standing by a steaming frying pan, was the orca half breed that I had been searching for. His plump tail swayed slowly from side to side as he hummed a song I couldn't quite pin down. It smelled like he might be cooking up some Italian style meat balls, but I was never a good judge of smells. I walked over to him and waited until his focus wasn't too concentrated on his work before I spoke.

"Hello there." I said, and felt awkward afterward from how casual I had allowed myself to behave with a complete stranger.

My fears were unnecessary however because when he looked at me he gave me a casual smile and spoke in a voice just as friendly, "Hello my friend! I trust you were satisfied with the state of your car?"

"Yes actually, I was going to thank you for doing me that favor. I admit I was a little wary of letting a stranger drive my friend's car, but now I must apologize for not trusting you better. What do they call you?"

"My name is Michael, but people prefer to shorten it to Mike. And your name is Alex if I remember correctly?"

"Yeah that's my name. It's good to meet you properly. We'll be seeing each often it seems." I said with a laugh.

"That is how it seems. Perhaps you and I will be able to join each other for a drink some time." He replied with a hint of what I prayed wasn't desire. I was dismayed when I saw his eye wink at me.

"Eh... maybe we will; It depends on if our mutual boss gives me a night off any time soon. I'll keep you posted." I said then waved as I made my way around him to the back office door.

I knocked as I was instructed the first day and waited. Once again I was forced to wait until I was brought in. As the minutes ticked by I counted the number of purchases made as I watched the store front from the small window behind the counter. Many of the locals stopped by to get a pound of this, a platter of that and even order party platters that would be picked up later in the day or week. Angel worked the front for the most part as I watched. If her cooking skills were good, her customer service was fantastic. Her kind face and sweet voice coaxed older ladies and gents to buy more than they needed, and her womanly figure and classy charm tantalized the young men who would visit during their lunch breaks. Angel was surely a person to be careful around, or you might be willed into anything.

Before the young man mopping had finished his chore and taken over out front for Angel again, possibly allowing us time to socialize, I was shaken by the office door beside me suddenly flying open. An older gentleman in a brown business suit and black shoes stormed out of the door. He was definitely human in species but his color was a mystery to me. His hands seemed tanned like a Hispanic, his face was bright red like a Native American, and his neck and chest had blotches of near albino white skin. I chuckled to myself as I thought how he must have tried one of those spray on tans and wound up with a botched job. As he stomped his way around a stove top he cursed loudly and then spun on the spot. His human hair spun a bit too far when he stopped, revealing the existence of a toupee.

"Lei le creature fornite di pelliccia non sono ora né faranno lei mai è veri italiani!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. I recognized the language, but his Liberty accent dulled the classy foreign feel of it, leaving it with the feeling like he had read it off a cheap internet translation website. But I digress...

"This is America you ass hole, speak the damn language!" CC called back at the human who had no doubt insulted him by the evident rage of his tone.

"You want English? Fuck you and your whole God damned race of furry freaks!" The man screeched loudly in disgust before he spat on the floor.

I was outraged. I thought it was funny at first to see my criminal boss getting yelled at by some pompous, bald human. Then he had to go and insult my race of people. I can handle slurs to myself, slurs to people I don't know, and I can even stay out of it when someone insults my friends... but this prick just called out my entire race. I stepped forward to challenge him but I felt an arm gently hold me back. When I looked around it was Michael. He gave me a look and shook his head. I obeyed his wishes but very begrudgingly. Without any resistance the human left the kitchen, and ultimately the shop as we all heard the bell jingle up front. I cursed rather loudly, much to the surprise of everyone around me, for all eyes had then turned to me. Embarrassed, I merely stood there like a child caught speaking out of turn and rubbing the back of my head. A moment later and the entire kitchen was full of barking laughter; Michael gave my back a firm pat and CC emerged from his office and took my hand in his own. I felt better knowing I hadn't offended anyone.

"Barely involved yet and already you're cursing and ready to throw punches! I knew you had spunk kid, come on in." He told me as his hand rested on my shoulder and guided me into the office.

I took my seat where I sat yesterday. The office looked much the same but the collection of envelopes and papers on the desk was now absent. The waste bin was cleaned out. The cactus was now placed on the top of a file cabinet and the window sill was clear. I watched CC walk slowly around his desk to his seat before falling back into it heavily. He placed both his paws on his face and rubbed vigorously, as if trying to remove a pesky substance from his fur. When he finally stopped massaging his face like a shirt on a wash board, his voice was calmer and more pleasant.

"You did good last night Alex, very good. I moved in moments after the families were informed and I was able to seize control of the assets owned by Vercetti. You should have seen the faces of the other family heads. All of them were so angry an Alderney family gained a hold in Algonquin... well, you saw what just happened. I been harassed all morning by these sons of bitches, but that one right there... ugh." He rubbed his face down once more.

"Got another target for me yet big C?" I asked, hoping to get his mind off recent complications.

"Yeah I do, and this time you won't need to drive around a stinking garbage truck. This time you'll be riding shotgun with Michael on the back of his Sanchez. You'll be tailing that bastard who just left this office. He may be a total prick, but he isn't stupid. His name is Frank Fellatiano. He runs a lot of underground cat houses around the city. It's small stuff, nothing as grand as the boys in Vice City, but still a good asset to grab. With that steady income I could put more grease in the wheels that turn the city and gain some support from other families. If I can get them to work with me, instead of just kill them off, it would save me a lot of time and trouble. Get rid of that grease ball for me Alex, and I will be very, very grateful."

I listened to him speak and I couldn't help the feeling that this guy may be getting in a little over his head. I hadn't given his proposed ideals much thought before, but now that I was involved they scared me a little. The families of Liberty were feared by anyone with sense, even some of the local gangs in Bohan and Northwood. This man was a small timer compared to them, with his little front business here in Alderney City. Oh what the hell, not like it mattered to me what happened to this ambitious son of a bitch, as long as I got paid.

"Alright you got it CC. Give me the details." I told him as I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Michael will give you the details later on. For now I want you to take this." He handed me a sealed envelope with a large "CC" printed on the front. Inside I felt a thick rectangular something bulging slightly through the paper of the envelope, "Take that to Odhner Avenue, there you will find someone who will give you a new toy. Now go, and don't fuck up kid, I am counting on you."

I left CC's office feeling a mix of wariness, weariness and excitement. I wondered what CC meant about a new toy. Clearly it was going to be a weapon. I had visions of blazing flame throwers and exploding grenades. I felt giddy as a school boy who had caught sight of his teacher's cleavage. As soon as I left the office I found Michael waiting wearing his usual black pants, but his pair of super shiny shoes was replaced by a set of black and white sneakers with tarnished laces and oil stains. Over his usual white shirt was a black and red sport jacket with logo of the Liberty City Swingers printed on the left breast. Under each of his athletic arms was a riding helmet. One was black with a white racing strip starting at the visor and going straight back around to the neck area. The second was navy blue with red stars on either side where my ears would normally be located if I were a human. Thankfully this helmet was made for my kind so the visor stretched out forward a bit more than your usual helmet.

"We join together much sooner than you thought friend." He said as he gave me a friendly smile.

"That we do... I am guessing you were aware of this before?" I asked.

"Of course I was. Why do you ask?" He replied with a tilt to his head. His hair, which was smooth, wavy and black as night, flowed over his left eye gently thanks to gravity.

"You could have let me know... never mind. Well I hope you can drive a motor bike good, last thing I need is to die just getting to the target."

"So long as you do not lean the opposite way I do we will be fine. Now come, we ride!" He said excitedly as he threw the blue helmet into my arms.

He led the way out the side door of the kitchen and into the small alley way. By then the time was about three or four in the afternoon. The smell of the dumpster in the alley was pungent from the amount of sunlight that had so lovingly cooked the putrid refuse cocktail within. We made our way back behind the delicatessen to the back alley where several clunkers were no doubt abandoned and several more dumpsters were located. Beside one of the dumpsters was a Sanchez bike. The red and white paint was covered in spots of oil and other unrecognizable stains. I looked it over with disgust but knew I would have to set my petty feelings aside and get this job done. I turned my attention to Michael then and spoke up.

"Now tell me what we are to do."

"Ok we are going to follow Fellatiano's fancy car around the city until we find him alone. Our spies in the Liberty families say he always ditches his guards at some point each afternoon. When he does we will follow, catch him off guard, and then you will silence the worm forever, any questions?" He concluded with a slight cock of his head.

"Yeah, what exactly are we going to be doing at Odhner Avenue?" I asked as I placed the bike helmet on my head. I lifted the visor to get an unobstructed view of my companion.

"I will leave that a surprise my friend. Come, we ride fast and hard on this machine today." He replied with a wink of his eye.

I watched him walk over to the bike while he placed his helmet on his head. Once it was securely snapped on he took his seat on the back of the bike and kicked it on. The bike let out an utterly too loud roar that was thankfully dulled with the help of my head gear. I replaced the visor to its normal position in front of my face then took a seat behind Michael. I became uncomfortable when his smooth orca tail brushed against me between my legs. Whether the gesture was an accident or a planned affair was not something I would have much time to give thought to, because as soon as I wrapped my arms firmly about his waist we took off down the alley and out onto the street. I had never ridden on a motor bike before so needless to say this was going to either make or break my future career in motocross.

After the initial shock of the first few turns I slowly grew accustomed to riding the Sanchez. The lights and sounds whooshed past us like we were moving through time rather than space. I was so excited by this ride I soon forgot completely about the ocean mammal's tail between my legs. All I wanted to do now was buy one of these babies and ride everywhere I went. Hey, maybe I would, considering my significant pay raise. Unfortunately my fun ended rather abruptly as the bike skidded to a stop outside a shady looking alley. I checked the street signs nearby and we had arrived at the spot CC had told me about earlier. Michael looked back at me and smiled through his visor before he jerked his head toward the alley. I took in a deep breath before dismounting the bike.

Once I was removed from the motor machine and my helmet lay safely on my seat I made my way into the alley. It was slightly cold due to the location of the alley being out of the sun at nearly any time of day. As I walked I smelled the familiar scent of urine and filth. I waved a paw in front of my muzzle to waft the smell away. I then noticed to my left the only door in the alley at the top of a small set of three concrete steps. A single railing was built along the right hand side of the steps and an old lamp hung dangerously low over the threshold. A breeze blew by and set the lamp to rocking slightly and giving the small area a new sound track: creepy, metal grinding. I took the three steps up to the door and gave the filthy barrier a few knocks. A small peep slot slide to the left and a set of brown eyes peered out at me.

"Entrance to the shop is out front guy, go round there if you need someone." The owner of the eyes said bitterly. He glared out at me as he spoke and waited for me to respond.

I took out the envelope and held it up to the slot cautiously, not wishing to give the stranger any reason to fear I was a threat. He snatched the envelope from me and slid the slot shut firmly, a loud click resonating to confirm that a lock had just been secured. I waited a few moments then, knowing that CC wouldn't send me here for nothing. Just as I began to doubt myself and CC, the door clicked and swung open to reveal a raccoon anthro dressed in army fatigues and a white a-shirt. His ringed tail was hung low behind him, just barely touching the floor. I looked into those brown eyes surrounded by the black mask of fur and I got the feeling he might mug me. After his eyes gave me a thorough examination he gave me a nod and grinned, his white fangs flashing violently in the light of the hanging lamp.

"Sorry about that buddy. I get a lot of truffle sniffers around here poking their snouts here and there. But don't worry, I am friendly to any friend of CC. Come on in, he wants me to hook you up with something special." He said as he stepped aside to allow entry.

I nodded after listening to his explanation. I guess criminals had to be as careful as possible, no matter how someone looked. Doing CC's dirty work was already gaining me some interesting friends around the city. Once inside the door, the raccoon shut the door firmly and walked me down a small hall way until we found a wall made of metal. It was thin material, and had many holes to peer through, but I couldn't make out what was on the other side. When he finally reached the door way of the strange metal walled room, I followed him in and was faced with an incredible sight. The entire room was full of weaponry of all kinds. Pistols and their automatic brethren were set out neatly on tables and box tops. Assault rifles could be seen on some of the boxes in the center of the room, along with heavier weaponry. As I looked around in awe I thought I saw a box labeled "RPG" but I couldn't see the box well from the door way.

"For now CC is paying for a simple hand gun. Here..." He said as he pulled out a rubber glove and placed it on his paw before he picked up a single hand gun and held it out to me.

I took the gun from his hand and held it in my own while I looked it over. It was a simple thing, but deadly at the same time. With this pistol I was going to shoot down and kill a man whom I didn't know, a man who I had no reason to want dead... a man who had insulted my race and my new boss. I pulled back on the slide like I had seen in the movies many times before. I would surely need to practice with the weapon before I would be able to get into real action. I looked at the raccoon who had taken a seat in an old lawn chair near the back. Beside him was a combat shot gun leaned against the wall, and an aluminum bat lying haphazardly by his feet.

"So I owe you nothing for this?" I asked as I gestured to the weapon.

"CC covered the cost of the gun. I can sell you replacements if you lose it, and ammunition for when you know you are going to need more firepower. It isn't cheap, but it's worth it to help keep the man down. Stay safe, stay Second Amendment brother!" He called out as he held up a fist.

I saluted him back much the same before I left his small weapon's hut. I had a feeling I would return to visit the raccoon before too long, and by then I hoped I wouldn't be sporting a fake leg or eye patch. When I returned to the seemingly useless alleyway I walked over to the motor bike. Michael had dismounted and was leaning casually on the bike while he examined a patch of skin on his exposed left hand. As I approached he took notice of my presence and straightened up. He gave me a smile and then held out one of his olive tanned hands to me.

"Show me your new 'piece' my friend, I am to inspect the quality." He told me and I gave him an understanding nod before placing my new pistol in his hand, "Ah, no, you mustn't hand a loaded weapon to another with the barrel pointed at them, especially with the safety turned off. The best method would be to grasp the gun along the length of the slide. Like this... that's right. The safety is right there... yes. You reload your gun like this... very good, you are a natural my friend. Take these spare cartridges and this..." He concluded as he placed three spare loaded cartridges and an empty holster in my paws.

The holster was made of simple black leather and had straps that would clip it securely to my belt. I took a moment strap the holster to my belt on my left side so that I could slip the gun into it with the grip stuck out forward. It would be a simple matter to draw the gun and ready myself for a fight; I liked that. I then slipped the three spare cartridges of ammo into my left back pocket which I never had a use for until today. When I was finished Michael moved close to me and his arms slowly wrapped around my midsection. I blushed red hot on my cheeks and gasped softly. The man was like the wind and so graceful with his movements; I suppose it made sense since he was half orca. I made a note to ask if he had ever been on a swim team, but then I struck that from my list of "to do's" in case it would come off as rude or inconsiderate. I then felt his hands grip my sweatshirt and tug it down so that the new weapon on my side was hidden under the navy blue fabric. I sighed in relief when he backed away and grinned at me coyly.

"Come my friend, we must make haste. CC will be texting you when he finds out the current location of Fellatiano in the city: to Algonquin!" He called out before he hopped back on the bike and kicked the noisy bastard back on.

I was just about to replace my helmet to my head when my jeans pocket gave a buzz and rang out. I reached into my pocket and found the small cell phone lit up and a message icon flashing in the bottom corner of the small black and white screen. I hit a few keys and soon read the text I had received aloud for myself and Michael, "My boys are tracking Fellatiano now, he was last spotted near the Superstar Café in Lancaster."

"Hurry, he will be moving swiftly, especially after he abandons his guards!"

I hurried onto the bike and put on my head gear. Once my arms were snug around Michael's waist he turned the bike and sped off down the road. We sped through traffic bobbing and weaving between cars and trucks. I gave a laugh as they would honk their horns or flash their high beams in frustration. I gave a few rather uncouth hand gestures if they were a little too zealous with their horns. Before I knew it we were turning into the Booth Tunnel. The smell of gasoline and oil fumes was thick in the air as the afternoon rush hour traffic bumped and ground its way through the tunnel. Michael stopped near the rear of the procession and I thought for a moment he might head north to pass over the Hickey Bridge, but then he took off like a mad man between the thickly packed traffic. I held on for dear life as our calves came very close to scraping the sides of cars and trucks and even a few busses. All the while car after car's horn would blare, or a driver would curse us in a random language. We even passed by a lone police cruiser that flashed its lights for a moment before conceding that we weren't worth his time. I was so relieved when our bike rose up out of the darkness and car fumes that I absently laid my head against Michael's back. I think I felt his tail twitch between my legs, but I let it slide because I was simply glad to be out of that literal hell hole.

Michael quickly turned the bike north headed uptown to try and cut through Middle park and possibly meet up with Fellatiano's convoy. It was then that I received a new message on my phone. I carefully pulled it out of my sweatshirt pocket, where I had hastily shoved it when our chase began, and read the message out loudly hoping that Michael would hear, "My boys say he has gone south, he is passing by Grand Easton Terminal, near that crab place."

Michael gave a small jerk of his head in a nod and then took a sharp turn right, and then right again when we found the next street heading south. Cars passed in a blur as we sped down the road. We had to swerve to avoid a reckless ambulance as it sped the wrong way down the road, probably headed for the hospital on Frankfort Avenue. I wondered what poor bastard was being sped there, and whether or not I would be one of those poor bastards in the future. I had a bad feeling I may be headed there often if I didn't get a serious career change soon. As we rode I realized just how notable the presence of my new weapon was to me. It felt like a great weight had been added to my body, and yet it weighed next to nothing to me. Perhaps this weight was how the knights of old would feel with a broad sword strapped to their waist. The only difference between them and myself: I could kill a man from over a hundred feet if I tried, which did nothing to comfort me. I was now one of those clumsy gangster ass holes with a gun and no idea how to shoot. That practice I mentioned earlier would have to start very, very soon.

The phone then went off in my pocket again. This time when I pulled it out the text read, "Hurry, they turned onto the South Parkway and are headed toward Union Drive West."

Michael put the literal pedal to the metal, or, well, he put the bike into top speed. I would have to learn more about the mechanics of a motor bike later on. By the time we made it to the South Parkway Michael was driving more and more recklessly, and I was beginning to hate the taste of my heart as it drove up to my throat. He took another of his classy sharp right turns and then we followed the parkway right to where it merged with Union Drive West and we soon found ourselves headed north once again. It was much smoother sailing from then on; the lanes were spaced enough for us to weave through traffic without much threat. It was then that I noticed three cars ahead of us by about twenty car lengths.

The first car in the pack was a black Lokus, a four door car type with a frame suited for the leader position. The second was a very fancy Cognoscenti with the entire body painted custom black, unlike most that have a black hood, roof and trunk with a second color for the sides. This car was most likely carrying our target and would no doubt have bullet proofed windows. The third and final car was a Huntley Sport, also black, with tinted windows so that the number of passengers was kept a secret. Michael confirmed my suspicions when he jerked his head toward the vehicles and signaled to me to act natural. We made our way slowly through traffic then, closer and closer to the convoy without giving off the impression that we were trying to catch up to them.

By the time we were within three car lengths of the third car we were just passing the intersection of Garnet Street. It was then that Michael suddenly swerved to the left. I nearly toppled over off the bike, and I was about to curse him for that trick, when the sound of gun fire rang in my ears. The pavement near our bike was being blown up in small clouds of dust as bullets surged into the road. I looked forward and saw that the Cognoscenti was speeding off down the road while the Lokus and Huntley Sport spread out in the road to block our advance. Two men were hung out of the back windows of each car holding what looked to be SMGs, and all four guns were pointed at our small motor bike.

"Do not just sit there like an idiot my friend, use your weapon to defend us while I try to pass these brutes!" I heard Michael call out from his seat in front of me.

My eyes blinked in surprise at the sudden mettle in his voice. I wondered how long it would take for me to sound so battle ready. As I pulled the hand gun from its holster on my side I thought of the lives I would take. I thought of the families I would destroy. I thought of the possible children the men had. Then a bullet zoomed by and I felt as if it had grazed my helmet. I grabbed hold of Michael's jacket on his left shoulder, leaned over slightly, turned off the safety, and then fired off a few rounds. I had thought I would feel like an action movie star, but when the gun went off my arm jarred and jerked back badly from the force of the small explosion in the chamber. My ears rang slightly from the sound of the bullet firing off. It finally made sense why war veterans would return home with minds blown; they used larger, more powerful guns than this on a daily basis.

Once I had regained some sense I prepared myself for the second round. Bullets were smashing into the black pavement closer and closer to our wheels. I had to act and stop being a puppy about this. I aimed for the front wheel of the Lokus and let out a breath as I fired off three successive rounds. I saw the bullets smash up the road just behind the wheel and I cursed. Then I remembered something I had heard once from a war vet in Vice City. I adjusted my aim so that my hand gun's sights were lined up about a foot ahead of the wheel of the Lokus. When I fired off the next set of three they each made contact with the rubber of the wheel and sent sparks flying as the car began running on the rim. The successful tire shoot out had obviously been a shock to the driver because the Lokus swerved right and smashed into the side of its companion car. It then swerved left and drove through a break in the dividers between the two parallel sets of lanes, right into oncoming traffic. I heard breaks squeal, the screams of men, and as we drove passed the slowed down Lokus it smashed into an oncoming police cruiser. As we drove away at top speed I could barely make out the sound of the gun fight between Fellatiano's men and the police. I pitied them. Liberty City cops would never stop swarming them and with their car disabled it would be impossible for them to run. With a heavy heart I then turned my attention back to the Huntley ahead of us.

As my eyes focused I noticed one of the men, the one sitting in the back on the left of the SUV, had vanished back into the car. When I looked closer I saw blood smeared on the side of the Huntley where a few dents were now noticeable on the side. It dawned on me then that when the Lokus smashed into the side of the Huntley that the poor bastard in the back window must not have retreated within the vehicle in time. I smiled at the thought, morbidly pleased that I had successfully incapacitated four of the bastards with one move. I felt cocky then. I aimed my hand gun at the perfect spot to put a bullet into the skull of the remaining guard shooting at us from the opposite side of the large sport truck. I then pulled on the trigger and when I did... nothing happened! Michael glanced back at me with the most disappointed face I had ever seen on anyone since my first report card. I cursed and drew a spare magazine from my back pocket and exchanged the empty one in my handgun for it. When it was properly loaded again I took aim once more but the angle of the Huntley had changed and my previous shot was ruined.

If I was any judge of time I would say a good ten to fifteen minutes had passed during this incredibly dangerous chase. In the distance I could hear in coming sirens blaring behind us. If I didn't end this dance we would be in for an even more dangerous drive through Liberty City, one that might end with our sorry asses in prison. With renewed vigor, due to the desire to stay a semi-free man, I took aim at the Huntley, searching for a target worth my bullets. I then noticed that the driver would glance out his window to be sure we weren't passing him every few seconds. I decided that was my chance. The odds of my novice ass being able to hit a moving target, going over 100 kph, while the bike roared and shook beneath me, was probably very low. I took a deep breath and aimed the best I could, then a fraction of a second before I knew his head would poke out I released the breath in my lungs and fired off three shots.

In a heartbeat the bullets hit their marks. The first gave my heart cause to drop, for it smashed into the thick metal of the car's frame where the two doors on the driver's side were separated. The second gave my ego cause to crumble as it embedded itself harmlessly in the back of the Huntley. The third however gave me cause to celebrate, for it pierced the neck of the driver and killed him instantly. As his head slumped to the right and hung loosely out of the window, his now lifeless hand put weight on the steering wheel and turned it sharply clockwise. The Huntley swerved right and smashed into a guard rail before flipping over onto its side. I turned my head to avoid seeing the fate of the driver's head as it vanished under the side of the vehicle. I felt Michael skid to a stop just behind the Huntley, and when I looked I was horrified by the sight of a bloody trail on the road.

"Hurry, find one of their cell phones, it may hold clues to where the bastard Fellatiano has gone to hide!" Michael called.

I leapt off the back of the bike and struggled over to the over turned Huntley; my legs felt like they were made of flan. I fired a round at the back window to weaken the glass before I smashed my foot through. Once all the glass was broken away enough I hunched over and climbed in. Groans from the dying men in the car hit my ears and I started searching their pockets. The man, who had been on the right side of the car, struggled badly when I attempted to search him. I pulled my gun out and fired a round through his skull, grimacing when blood spattered my visor. I then heard the faint ringing of a cell phone from his pocket, and I pulled out the small device and saw the name "Boss" over the number. I opened my visor and cleared my throat, and then I hit the call button to accept the incoming call.

"Yeah boss?" I said with my best imitation of a dull witted thug.

"Don't fucking 'yeah boss' me you idiot! I have been calling your sorry ass the past ten minutes! Are those two shit bags dead yet?" The "boss" said. I recognized it as the voice of Fellatiano.

"Uh... yeah boss."

"Ugh, it's no wonder I only got this position 'cause my brother died. I surround myself with incompetent morons all the time. Do me a favor and blow your own goddamned head off now ok?"

"...Yeah boss." I replied.

"Sono circondato dal porco e dai topi con i piccoli cervelli!" He yelled, then, "I'll be at that meeting in Westdyke; I'll meet up with you back at the factory. Arrivederci, gli idioti."

He hung up on me at that moment, and I heard Michael yelling for me to hurry. I quickly pocketed the cell phone then ran from the vehicle, avoiding stepping on particularly sharp shards of glass. I hopped back onto the Sanchez and Michael sped quickly away from the scene. We blended in with traffic just as four police cars and an ambulance arrived and encircled the Huntley. Michael brought his visor up and glanced back as well to view the scene and seemed pleased with our getaway.

"Did you find anything my friend?" He called out over the roar of the engine.

"We will find the son of a bitch in Westdyke!" I called back.

Michael gave a start and I was thrown back as he sped forward faster than ever. We swerved through traffic with a renewed reckless abandon. When we came upon the exit to Hickey Bridge we turned sharply and nearly smashed into the guard rail of the bridge before he sped off toward Leftwood. When he could he took a sharp right turn and headed north into the Westdyke area. We left the city behind us and entered an area with many richly built houses and fine gardens. As I scanned the area for the car I couldn't help wishing I owned one of the grand estates, but in my heart I knew I would never own something so grand. When I finally spotted the car parked in the drive of one of the estates Michael brought the bike to a sudden halt nearly a block away. He switched off the engine and I watched as he ripped the helmet from his head and slammed it onto the handles of the bike.

"??? ??? ??????!" He said angrily. I had only heard the language he spoke once, when Debra and I were jumped by those Russian gangsters in Chinatown.

"Um... what did you say?" I asked.

"This is very fucking bad my friend. I must call the boss." Michael replied.

He pulled out a very nice touch screen phone. It had to be premium because I could see the Burgershot background I had seen on the television commercials. He dialed a number in a half dozen light, quick touches of his fingers, and then he held the phone to his ear. As I waited for their phone call to connect I looked around the neighborhood. On the one side were all homes with large driveways and gardens surrounded by tall brick walls. Most of them had no gates, and the ones that did kept them open and welcoming. It was clear the people of this area were confident in their own safety. If only they knew one of the houses nearby currently had a mob meeting happening inside at that very moment. I was so absorbed by my own inner machinations that I was startled when I heard Michael begin to speak.

"Boss, we have got a very big problem. Fellatiano is... he is at your house."

I might have lost my eyes at that moment if they weren't so snuggly held in by my skull. I had to appear as if I had a bit of owl in my blood. This mob boss was visiting CC's house? What was the old fucker thinking? The thought of Angel safe at the deli gave me some relief, but this could still be something terrible.

"I understand boss. I will stay behind and clean up the mess then? Ok, I got it." Michael hung up the phone and gave a sour sort of whine. The sound wasn't like his attitude so far at all.

"So we go ahead and attack him while his pants are down, eh?" I said jokingly.

"So it seems my friend. I will drop you off at the gate then see to it that no one gets in. You move in and take him, and whoever he is with, out. You got it?"

"I got it, no problem. Any idea how many others may be inside?"

"Probably only one, but move in carefully."

He drove the bike slowly down the block then. It took only a moment to arrive at the gate of CC's home, and it was just as grand as the others on the street. In the garden around the side I saw a few fountains with glittering water cascading down in several beautiful waterfalls. The drive way stretched from the gate to the front doors, then left down to the end of the house itself and about ten yards further, then the rest went right and was hidden by the house. I assumed that there may be a large garage around that end, but I didn't dwell on it. I focused on the house itself, looking for a safe route inside. I concluded the best approach would be to enter through the door around the side by the garden. It wasn't likely to be guarded or locked considering the leisurely lifestyle of the neighborhood. What bothered me about the situation was the fact that the front door didn't seem to be broken into. I would think that at least there would be signs of a struggle, considering the nature of the intruder. Something smelled fishy and since I didn't work in the Fishmarket anymore I knew it wasn't me.

I slipped off the bike and placed my helmet on the seat. Once I stepped back from the bike Michael gave me a sharp nod and a thumbs up before he drove off to get into position, but where I couldn't tell you. I then turned to the house and readied my gun. Counting back I figured on having at least four more bullets in the current clip, which I was hoping would be enough. I crouched down so that I could creep close to the house and once I was in position against the front wall I moved quickly to the corner. I peered around and saw that all was clear. The only movement came from the crystalline waters of the fountains. I moved around the corner slowly and crept over to the first window of that wall. I peeked inside and found a nice view of a well equipped kitchen. The counters encircled nearly half of the room providing ample space for cooking preparation. In the center was an island with built in cutting boards stained a very nice shade of light brown that went well with the light gray-brown granite counter tops. I could see a meal prepared on the stove top but the pans were clearly left untouched and the food within uneaten. Deciding the room was of no importance I ducked down and continued forward along the wall until I found the large sliding glass door that lead out to the garden area. Peeking around the corner through the glass I saw what had to be a breakfast nook, a dining table made of clear glass that was equipped to seat 6 people, an old fashioned office desk with papers and note pads neatly stacked in piles, a rather plain looking wooden liquor cabinet, and a half closed door leading to the darkened living room.

I sighed out of exhaustion. The excitement from the gun fight on the freeway had finally caught up with me. I was short of breath and my heart was beating a bit too hard. Feeling like I wouldn't be able to perform the job at my best, I decided that now was a perfect time to rest. I turned my back to the wall and sat down on the soft grass lining the wall. I looked out at the garden and for the first time that day I could honestly say I felt relaxed. The nearest fountain caught my attention so I gave it a second glance and examined the fine artistry of the fountain's structure. The base of it was built into the ground with soft, light green grass set like a carpet around its perimeter. The rim of the fountain's water basin was carved in a braid like rope or tightly packed hair all the way around the edge. The lowest tier of the fountain was shaped like a clam shell with waterfalls cascading from the points where the shell dipped down. The second tier was shaped like a large star fish with the generic five points which all had waterfalls coming down from them.

On the top tier was a platform upon which sat an angelic mermaid. Her fish tail was curled around behind her while her torso was positioned so that her bosom was stuck out father than it ought to. Her face was upturned so that it was most likely in the sun most of the day. Water sprayed forth from her lips, which were puckered up in what must have been considered a kiss by the artist; from three points of a small tiara that was carved into her hair on the top of her head, and from her waist where the water simply fell down her sides down to the tiers below her. The water falling from her waist, near the conversion of her skin and scaled flesh, was so steady that it formed what could be considered a "flowing" dress. I had given no attention to the specifics of her human torso save to realize that her shame had been covered by the commonly used shell bikini top.

Once I had regained my breath, I stood back on my feet and crouched down once more. I gave the door a quick tug and was pleased to find it unlocked. Ever so quietly I pushed the door to the side and crept into the handsome abode. After securing the door behind me I kept low as I crept to the living room door. I was pleased to see that the room was abandoned of any guards or their bosses, but then I realized I had no idea where my target had gone. I then heard movement above me through the ceiling. I had a bad feeling suddenly come over me, and I knew that something was askew. I quickly made my way up the stairs, glad to find them covered in a soft, off white carpet. The faint scent of roses and honey tickled my nose and nearly stirred a sneeze from me, but I held my snout and scolded myself for letting down my guard.

Scanning the upper dwelling I saw several doors. One was left ajar and could clearly be identified as a common bathroom, one that guests were welcome to use as well as those living in the home. Two other doors were closed firmly and there were no signs of any life behind them. The final door wasn't open, but there was a soft light glittering out from under the small space beneath. As I made my way to the door with the light I could tell that the scent was wafting from within, for the smell was becoming so strong one could use the word "repulsive," to describe it. I readied myself for whatever lay on the other side of the door, and then I gripped the golden handle firmly. I slowly turned the handle and when I felt the door come loose I pushed it open about four or five inches and peered into the room.

There were candles. And there were candles. Also, there were candles. Did I mention the candles?

All humor aside there were indeed many candles placed around the perimeter of the room. The soft glowing light had been them, along with the sickening scent of honey. The scent of roses came from the remains of at least three dozen mutilated roses which lay across the floor. There were fine paintings hung up on the royal blue walls of the room, one of which took nearly half the wall from top to bottom and was possibly of a long dead relative of CC. The background of the painting was that of an Italian vineyard. Livestock lay in the sun in the background while chamber maids went about their chores in the yards outside a grand estate built on the top of a high topped hill. The fox was dressed in fine clothes and from the amount of jewels used to craft the clothing and jewelry upon his person he was obviously well off. It made sense why CC wanted so badly to gain power here in Liberty City with such a powerful ancestor to live up to.

Moving on from the art on the walls I realized that this room had a finely waxed wood floor, which would signal my entering to anyone inside should I step too heavily. The only window was opposite the door and faced the backyard of the home, and thankfully the sun was far too west to shine light towards my side of the room. I finally let my eyes wander to the grand bed in the center of the room. It was made of finely crafted wood that had four posts. The four posts rose up to nearly touch the ceiling and a light blue canopy was draped over top of the bed and propped up by the posts. The sheets were made of a fine silk that shone in the candle light perfectly. The blanket covering the sheets was light blue to match the over head canopy and looked to be made of a very expensive type of fur, possibly baby seal. I was so impressed with the bed spread that I nearly missed the fact that there was a huge lump under the covers that was giving off soft, almost bored moans.

The covers then suddenly burst and out from under them rose two figures. The first was the human with the shitty tan job and the awful hair piece. His face was flushed once again, but this time it was the type of flush one gets while in the throes of passion. His eyes were closed tightly while his mouth was open wide in mid moan. His hair lay tilted slightly to the side due to sweat slicking up his smooth white head. The second figure, the unfortunate receptacle of his current load, lay beneath him almost smothered under his slightly overweight body. From what I could see and smell she was a weasel. It wasn't until the bastard on top of her moved that I noticed her facial patterns were far from weasel. Her face was round and white, save for a strip of black that formed a mask similar to the coon I had met earlier. Her petite ears and small pink nose gave her a much cuter look than a proper woman should have, but there was no doubt in my mind that her immature cuteness earned her tremendous doting and plenty of accosting. This woman was possibly the cutest ferret I had ever seen; especially when I considered the fact that I had never actually seen one in person before.

I took this moment when they were both at their most vulnerable to burst into the door aggressively. Fellatiano immediately leapt from the bed and ducked behind the side, leaving the young lady defenseless in the face of an intruder. Not only was this hypocritical bastard fucking one of the furs he had insulted earlier, he was now cowering like a babe while she was left at the mercy of his attacker. My disgust for this human piece of trash was now at its pinnacle. I glanced at the ferret in the bed, barely able to keep her shame covered with her hands trembling in sheer terror. I walked to the other side of the bed quickly before I grabbed hold of Fellatiano by the back of his neck and lifted him up. He gave a shriek of anger laced with fear and threw a desperate punch at my gut. I haven't the slightest idea how it happened, but I was able to move my free arm fast enough to bash his punch off course. My arm rang out in pain and I could feel the bruise forming, but I gave no thought to the small wound. I pushed Fellatiano toward the only corner in the room with nothing that would be ruined by blood and then I aimed my gun at his head.

"Carl Capoletti would like to wish you a safe and quick ride to hell, you dumb mother fucker." I said as I went to pull the trigger.

"At least I got... to plug his filthy slut of a girl friend... before he finally sent his new attack dog." He replied and then spat on the floor by my feet.

I bared my teeth and let loose a snarl before I squeezed the trigger once, twice, thrice, four times. A fifth squeeze was met with silence as the cartridge was void of any remaining bullets. I took morbid pleasure from the sight of his blood pooling on the cold wood floor beneath him. I slowly hit the release so the empty magazine fell to the floor, then I replaced it with another of my spare clips. I watched the pooling blood a moment as I thought about the man I had just killed. In anger, I placed four bullets in a man I never knew. As the pool of crimson liquid reached the empty casings of the bullets I watched the blood give off steam and cauterize before my eyes. Having enough of looking at the dead man and his blood, I turned my attention to the still frozen girl in the bed. I pitied her stupidity; she could have fled to safety while I reminisced in my head. I then drew the gun up and aimed for her chest.

"Wait, please, don't kill me!" She cried as her eyes filled with tears.

"Sorry, but not only is it my job, but you did betray your boyfriend here. I do not condone cheating." I replied as I took a bit of humor from this situation.

"Look if you are being paid to kill me then turn the other way and you can take anything of mine you want! I got money! I got jewelry! I got some really good drugs!" She eagerly listed off her assets to me, hoping I would be tempted by her wares.

"I am not going to let you go ok? I have to put you down kid, even if you are my boss' girl. Make peace with God." I told her as I clicked the safety on and off quickly to emphasis my point.

"Hey, just let me go ok? I swear you won't ever hear from me again! I will go vanish into the city, maybe get a job for myself or... or find a new man with less dangerous friends?" She said in desperation and added a soft chuckle to the end.

I watched her closely. She was so young, maybe a few years younger than I was. Ending her life wasn't something I wanted to do. What was her crime? Cheating may be something I do not consider good, but it is not something I consider worthy of physical harm. Why was I the one left to choose her fate? What right did I have to decide whether she lived or died? I wasn't a religious wolf, but this seemed like something God ought to have a say in. If not for me, her life would go on today. I gave a last heavy sigh before I let my gun arm fall to my side.

"Get a bag of whatever you want ready now. Get dressed in running clothes. Catch a cab as soon as you get out of the area. Go as far away as you can, and then go farther. Do not hang around Algonquin. Over in Meadows Park isn't half bad. Find a place to settle and move on. If I ever find out you are in Alderney, Algonquin or Broker... you will die."

I watched the young ferret rise and rush to her closet. I noticed a collection of suits on one side of the closet when it was opened. She then rushed to remove any clothes she wished to keep, and then raided her jewelry drawers and took only a few trinkets, and finally she took a secret stash of money from beneath the bed. From where I was I couldn't correctly estimate the sum of her stash, but a shoe box of money was bound to be worth a lot. She then quickly donned a hot pink jogging outfit before she took her bag and placed it on her shoulder. Seeing her ready to escape, I quickly led her out of the bedroom and down the stairs to the living room. Michael was stationed out front to keep anyone from leaving the estate, so I led her out the side door. Together we ran to the back of the house where the brick wall was at least 8 feet tall, but on the other side tall pines could be seen standing proud. Confident that she would find her way to safety I pulled her along to the brick wall just on the other side of a small, in ground wave pool. I tossed her bag clear over the barrier and when we heard the audible crunch of her bag landing on the brush on the other side we both let out a sigh of relief. I gave her a boost, her smaller body easily lifted by my muscular arms.

When she was safe on the top of the wall, one leg on either side, she looked back down at me. I looked back up at her amber colored eyes, taking in their innocent beauty for the first time. I think she smiled and spoke, but I was too enthralled by her eyes to really notice. And then they were gone, and I heard her land and tumble on the other side of the wall. I heard her secure the bag to her shoulder and then call out, "If you're ever in Meadows Park, come visit me. Thanks again for sparing my life. You're a good man."

I listened to her light steps as she ran away, off to find her way and hopefully a better life. I envied her. Her freedom was a simple climb over a wall. If only I could run away from my life like her. If only a wall were my obstacle and all I needed was a boost to overcome it. I felt the weight of my gun in my hand and I gave a small sigh. Nothing would ever be so easy ever again. I would have to accept my new life soon, or it would consume me. But how does one accept that they have now become an angel of death? How does one accept that they have become enslaved in a place built on liberty?

"You have done a wise thing this day my friend..." Michael said.

I spun around to face him as he stood behind me. How long had he been watching? Would he punish me now for his boss? I had to ask, "Michael... does this mean I am a dead man?"

"It is my job to clean up the mess in the house, and as far as I am concerned... I am going to hate cleaning up those two bodies and getting rid of them." He replied and then flashed me a pleasant smile.

Since I had met this man fully, I had come to a conclusion that his smiles would always leave me feeling uncomfortable. He was too friendly, very foreign, and freakishly clean. His tail loved to rub me in the wrong places. And to top everything, he was a master pickpocket. But this time... this time his smile left me feeling glad to know him. He might be an unordinary guy, but in my eyes now... that just made him extraordinary. We clapped our hands together in a kind grasp, and once we had shaken properly he left me with the keys to the motor bike. I attempted to give them back, but he simply looked back at me from the door way to the dining room and hollered, "I said good day!"

As I sat on the bike out front, ready to try my hand at motor biking alone, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pulled it out and recognized the familiar number of CC showing up on the display. When I picked it up I sighed and hoped he was still clueless.

"Hello?"

"Good job kid, I knew I could count on you. What was it like shutting that pompous human up?"

"Felt good sir, really good. Has Michael given you a call yet?"

"He did and I must say you are an ice cold son of a bitch. I am glad to be rid of the whore; she was cheating on me with more than one of my enemies... I feel it in my bones. Listen, go home, get some rest, then come by my office. I'll see if I can get you something else to do by then. Enjoy the money by the way, you earned it." He then hung up.

After the phone conversation with CC I rode the bike around Westdyke and Leftwood for a while. As I did, I started thinking about what CC had said. "Enjoy the money..." How could I when I knew it was stained by the blood of Vincent, Fellatiano, and hundreds at the Fishmarket? It made me sick thinking about it. Or maybe it was because I had a crappy lunch and hadn't eaten since. I stopped my bike by the curb in front of one of the city's local ATMs. After punching in my information and withdrawing fifty dollars from my account I grabbed the receipt and went to stuff it into my pocket. I then withdrew my hand slowly from my sweatshirt pocket and read the available balance: $25, 643...

I think finding a way to accept this life wouldn't be that hard after all...