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Technofox 11

Technofox hurled herself away, using her arms to cover her head instead of breaking her fall. She didn't feel herself hit the asphalt and bounce. Her gun flew away; she had no idea where. Lilith's grenade exploded. After the blast, the vixen heard something whine by her ear, not the crack of a supersonic bullet; part of a defensive grenade's fragmentation casing.

Sore and shaken, she rolled over and looked back. Lilith's trench coat had almost been blown off her, exactly like in a Bugs Bunny cartoon. Except Chuck Jones couldn't animate smell. The scent of blood and other fluids rose in a horrible cloud with the smell of burnt explosives. Lilith's hips were at a strange angle, and with a shock, Technofox realized the grenade had almost cut the Dryad in half. Her right hand, the one she had used to pull the pin and flip off the arming handle, was gone, the stump spurting, her heart still beating. It wouldn't be for long.

Technofox made eye contact with her. There was still awareness there in Lilith's eyes, despite her terrible injury. Shot in the knee, covered by Technofox, Lilith's capture was inevitable, and her decision not surprising. She had failed to take Technofox with her, and she knew it.

Lilith's head fell back, and she went wherever good slaves with bad masters went. Maybe her only sin was having the wrong masters. Maybe that was the only sin there was. Technofox shook her head. She wasn't making sense.

Technofox slapped at small fires in her fur, putting them out. The blast had slammed her so hard she hadn't noticed she was on fire. The only thing Technofox could hear was a loud ringing noise, as her abused ears tried to recover from the flashbang and the grenade. She should find her gun, she knew.

But instead, Technofox stared at Lilith. Technofox had a hunch. And with that hunch, everything made sense. And she understood, as surely as she knew she was Technofox.

But what would she do about it?

Lilith's left sleeve was in tatters, her arm smeared with ashes. She wore a watch, a bulky men's watch, heavy chrome wristband. It was like the watch in Technofox's nightstand. Chimerae didn't usually wear watches. Technofox did, but most chimerae weren't obsessive geeks. Why wear a watch when they had a PIM built directly into their brains? Foxforce used watches primarily to boost the signal from the implant for communication. Why would Lilith? Fashion? Too bulky...

Technofox stepped over and turned Lilith's wrist to face her. It was almost the same model as her own watch. "16gig MP3 Athletic Monitor" it said on the face, in tiny type. Her own didn't have an Athletic Monitor function. Jealousy prickled at her, although she wasn't sure what it was. It was a feature she didn't have and Lilith did, and that was unfair.

That wasn't the reason she took the watch and stuffed it in her pocket. Then she felt for a pulse, held her breath for a count of ten. She didn't expect to feel anything, but it was part of the ritual that attended death. She finished by recording the date and time with her implant for the report she would write later. It was eighty seconds since she had sent her email alert. Then, and only then, she turned around and looked for her gun. It had skittered under a car -- there was a good side to a stainless steel finish, Technofox decided -- and she reached under to fish it up.

The flashlight that hit her was under a shotgun. She didn't blame the police in the least -- gunfire, and hand grenades? They probably thought a war had broken out. She put the gun down and her hands up. "Private Security," she said, her voice too loud. "ICON. Technofox. I am working with Captain William Bishop, Atlanta Police." She couldn't remember his precinct.

Naming a specific police officer did a lot to ratchet down the stress level. One of the flashlights drooped down as the cop holding it relaxed. "The bad guy's over there," Technofox said. "Suicide by grenade."

They started, and looked over. "What happened, girl?" one of them asked.

Technofox laughed and shook her head. The police figured it was exhaustion and stress, that she was coming down off a combat high. Which she was; but the real reason was that Technofox had no idea how much Bishop had already figured out, and what he would believe.

Technofox could hear more sirens now. She thought it might be tinnitus, or more police, but a fire engine pulled into the parking lot. Lilith had gone through an alarmed exit.

"Officers, if I may suggest," she said, "one of these cars is probably hers. If she has an accomplice --"

There was a soft, muffled boom from a nearby van with California plates. Flames were visible through the tinted windscreen. MP3 Athletic Monitor, Technofox thought. Heart monitor. It had just signaled a cardiac emergency.

"Lilith set her van up the bomb," she said.

"What?" one of the cops asked. The other rolled his eyes, disdaining his cohort's lack of culture.

"Well, at least the firefighters have something to do," he said, nodding.

Two men stood by a black limo, one that rode low because it was a bit too heavily armored for the suspension. Shadowfox looked very small and helpless next to them, weeping and scared, just like any normal girl would be when suddenly confronted with violence. She lifted her head, and scratched once with a single claw, from her temple to her jaw. Technofox looked away, trying to appear unconcerned. Presumably, they had not seen Shadowfox go all ninja on Lilith.

One of the men had gray hair, cut short to help conceal the fact he was balding. He was overweight, and Shadowfox wore his jacket, her tiny frame almost vanishing in the expanse of fabric. The other looked like a massive weightlifter, with a chauffer's cap. He opened the back door for Shadowfox, who got in first with the little uncertain smile of a shy, simple girl who really wasn't used to being waited on.

Technofox glanced over at her again. Shadowfox was very good at fooling people.

David lay in bed, Firefox holding his hand. Silverfox carefully lay a cloth, aromatic with soothing ointments, over his inflamed eyes. "I don't suppose you remembered to pick up my chicken wings?" Silverfox asked hopefully.

"Is Shadowfox okay?" he asked, ignoring her.

"She's fine," Firefox said. "Vlad Korolev took her home with him." Firefox blinked slowly after saying that, perhaps realizing that 'your girlfriend went home with a mob boss' wasn't quite as reassuring as she should be. "We have protocols for when she's acting independently, and she's not injured or in trouble."

"And Technofox?"

"Technofox is fine. She's right in the corner, doing some work on one of your computers."

"I'm fine," Technofox called out, distracted, but not wanting him to worry.

"You're sure? Both of you?" he asked.

"Technofox and Shadowfox were not hurt in any way," Firefox said firmly. It was stretching a point, Technofox thought: every sound was like an ice pick through her eardrums, but that would pass. "You're the only one Lilith hit. How are you?"

"My eyeballs are bowling ball-sized blobs of hellfire that glow in my head," David replied promptly. "Every breath feels like I'm inhaling Tabasco sauce. The entire contents of my skull have liquefied and gone through my nose. And my wrist kind of hurts where Shadowfox dropped me."

"You know," Silverfox said, "I like the way a man smells after he's been pepper-sprayed. It's sort of like good Mexican food. Or those chicken wings you forgot to get. And I was counting on those for dinner."

"Glad to oblige," David said. "Do we know why Shadow approached Lilith and me?"

"Did you call her to your table?" Firefox asked.

"Of course not. If I had, I'd know why--"

Technofox couldn't blame him for feeling a little snippy. Firefox answered patiently. "Then Lilith must have called her to her table before. Shadowfox saw you at the table and probably thought you buzzed her over to talk or something."

"That works," David agreed.

"It was lucky Lilith used the spray on you," Silverfox went on, doggedly. "What if she had gotten Shadowfox instead? Shadow disarmed her, remember. Lilith would have blown you and Tech away. It's a good thing Lilith wasted her golden bullet on you."

"Yep, that's why they call me 'Lucky Dave.'" His voice was a bit muffled.

"Do they?" Silverfox asked.

"No," he said.

"And since your sense of smell is so dull, the pepper spray probably hurt you a lot less than it would me," Silverfox said.

"Let's find out some time," he suggested, cordially. Changing the subject, he said, "Tech, not to complain, but why did you call my phone instead of sending an email? Wasn't a phone call the signal that it wasn't Lilith? Did that sentence parse?"

Technofox wasn't paying attention. "Huh?" she asked, turning away from the computer.

"Tech didn't call you," Silverfox explained. "I checked your voicemail. That was your mom, calling to ask why you had forgotten her birthday."

"Oh, crap," David moaned.

"I squared it with her, though," Silverfox assured him. "I told her you were pepper-sprayed by a woman in a strip bar." She smiled, conscious she had done a good deed.

Firefox looked at Silverfox silently.

"Kill me," David pleaded.

"And use a silencer," Technofox snapped, typing furiously. She scrolled down a list of names. "Look," she said.

"7.62 had Travis Walton in his contact list," Firefox said out loud, for David's benefit.

"So let's check the server logs," Technofox said. "I'm going to look for messages between the address Lilith had for Walton and the email address Cheshire gave me for Lilith."

The set wasn't empty. They started in early November of last year, thirty of them. About two a week, Technofox thought. Technofox opened one. Of course, the actual content wasn't saved: but from reading the header information Technofox could see the messages contained DGP links. Swell.

"Right now," Firefox said, "I'd give the entire Nazi government a blowjob to see the content."

Technofox laughed. "Get in line." She shook her head. "Thirty messages, fifteen from each to the other, DGP encryption."

"If we had the message content, could we read it?" Firefox asked. "Lilith's keycodes were in her archive."

Technofox looked up at her, and then pointedly at David. She opened a text editor window. "Is 'we' Foxforce or ICON?" she typed.

Firefox reached over her and touched the word "Foxforce" with a claw.

Technofox bit her thumb. "DGP messages are hyperlinks, stored in the actual message body. The hyperlinks point to encrypted data kept on a DGP server. The content is deleted from the DGP server one day after it is downloaded. Since there's a time element, ICON has to keep archives of known DGP servers. It's a huge archive."

"So the email itself doesn't contain the message anyway."

Technofox clicking off points on her claws. "Right. To read a DGP message, you need the hyperlink in the message, a copy of the server made at the time the message was generated, and the keys of the sender and recipient. We've got Lilith's keys, and we could almost certainly derive Walton's with the tools I've got. ICON might have an archive of the DGP server or servers, or it might not. But we still don't have the message with the hyperlink."

Firefox sighed. "Sealed book, then."

"Pretty much," Technofox agreed. Sealed book. Technofox thought of the picture of Lilith in that book. She'd never know if it was posed or a rape. Technofox knew that Lilith was broken. But had she always been broken, or had Blue Diamond done it to her?

She'd never know. And she'd never know what, exactly, had passed between Walton and Lilith. She thought she knew the gist of it, though. She wanted sleep desperately, but she couldn't, not yet.

There was something missing from the archive: Lilith had Walton's contact information, but she didn't have a dossier on him. No notes on his movement, no addresses or schedule.

To Technofox, that was all the evidence she needed. Her hunch from before was right.

Technofox brought up a hex editor. Now came the tricky bit.

"Not much left inside her van," Bishop said. "It was actually a small incendiary, but any fire in an enclosed place gets pretty hot."

"No computer or media?" Technofox asked, worried. She hoped her anxiety would be misunderstood.

Bishop shook his head sadly. "The lab tells me it's all unreadable. She had a couple of bus-powered hard drives, and a computer, but they were sitting right on the charge." Bishop shrugged, and sipped Shadowfox's coffee.

"I'd like to look at them, if you don't mind," Technofox said.

"Absolutely. They're at the station, of course. To me, they literally look like puddles of goo -- but you're the expert. FBI will be picking them up the day after tomorrow."

"Thank you. Tomorrow would be good. I need to get some sleep first." Technofox didn't feel much urgency at this point.

"I can imagine," Bishop said sympathetically. "I'll try to keep this short, today. We can go over it in detail later."

"So the van was in the parking lot, ready for a getaway?" David asked. "Lilith was planning to kidnap Shadowfox?"

Bishop nodded. "Almost certainly. Textbook obvious," he said. "She had handcuffs and a strait jacket in the van. Even a container marked 'Ether.' That blew up, of course." Bishop hesitated, looked at Technofox, and looked back at David. "And other things."

"What other things?" Technofox asked.

Bishop didn't meet her eyes. "Collar and leash. The collar's from Blue Diamond."

"I guess Lilith was nostalgic," Technofox mused.

Bishop flinched, and changed the subject. "The van was set up like a camper. Cot, Shelf-stable food, computer. Odenberg and Lilith probably used it to drive all over the country, and with a switch on the transponder they didn't leave a trail."

"With a camper, why did she use the apartment before hitting Doctor Walton?" Technofox asked. "Comfort?"

Bishop shrugged. "Seems reasonable. Why not use a real shower if you have one? That must have been before we were observing the apartment. Do you suppose it was before those mysterious illegal listening devices appeared?"

"Not that we have any way of knowing when those thoroughly illegal listening devices were put in by parties unknown, but my Magic 8-Ball says yes," David said. "Did you figure out how Odenberg died yet?"

Bishop nodded, and blew on his coffee. "The report's not finalized," he said. "The ME had a hell of a time because the body's been in storage for an unknown duration, then tossed off a ten story building."

"That would make an autopsy tough," David agreed. "How do you tell the pre-mortem damage from a hundred foot fall? Obviously, Odenberg wasn't shot or poisoned -- then it would be obvious."

Bishop grinned and nodded. "You're right. It looks like Odenberg was knifed in the abdomen. He... uhm..."

"Burst open, ripping along the weak point caused by the blade," Technofox guessed. "Like a bag of noodles with a hole in. I'm amazed your ME found the knife injury at all."

"Nicely put," Bishop said. "He was in armor -- fibers in the wound -- but fabric armor's not much good against a knife. There's indications that first aid was applied -- anti-shock, painkillers, and we found bandage adhesive." He put a data chip on the table. "You mind, darlin'?"

Technofox put the chip into her computer, and opened the first link on it, titled 'Bookmark 1.' It opened a crime scene report, and she brought it up on the big screen TV. The image scrolled to an image of a dead man in an alley. Next to him was a bloody bayonet.

"This was last December, the fifteenth," Bishop said. "The man was shot multiple times, with a nine millimeter. Lots of blood on that knife. Didn't match the body. Very nasty wound, maybe. The DNA wasn't on file, but it turns out to be Odenberg's."

Technofox nodded. Cheshire had said she had met Lilith and Odenberg "A few months ago." December would fit that timeline. There was a flurry of emails between Lilith and Walton around then, as they tried to deal with this unexpected event.

"So Lilith probably didn't kill him," David said.

"I don't think Lilith killed Odenberg," Bishop agreed. "She was working with him. Something went wrong in the alley, Odenberg was knifed, so Lilith shot the knifeman. She takes Odenberg home. Applies first aid. He dies anyway. She keeps the body. That's typical chimera thinking. Can't be proven, but it fits what we know."

"So they had that meat ageing cabinet in the apartment before Odenberg died?" David asked, shocked.

"That's right. Odenberg bought it over a year ago. I think he used it from time to time to screw up forensics. To change the apparent time of death."

"Make the time of death match the date he had his feet washed by the Pope in front of twenty thousand people?" Technofox murmured.

Bishop nodded glumly. "Basically. Lots of cases will have to be revisited now. Who knows how many people use something like this?"

"Someone will have to investigate every steak house and meat supplier in the country," David said.

"Sign me up for that," Technofox said, licking her chops.

Bishop grinned. "Go to tab two, please."

Technofox flipped to the second bookmark. It was a picture of the gun Lilith had tried to use last night, sitting on a table near a ruler for scale. It was Technofox's first good look at it. Eight round magazine. Forward grip. Lots of recoil compensation, so it had probably been made for Odenberg. If Shadowfox hadn't kicked it away, Technofox would have been in a close gunfight with a woman with better armor, more rounds in the clip, and a more powerful gun.

"That's a custom job, of course," Bishop said. "A pistol firing 7.62 ammunition. And ballistics confirms it's the same custom pistol 7.62 used before, in South Africa."

"Funny," Technofox said. "If Lilith had used something less cumbersome, she might have shot Shadowfox. If she had a backup, she could have shot me in the parking lot."

Bishop smirked and nodded. "That's so," he agreed. "But it's conclusive; Lilith executed or was an accessory in some of 7.62's killings. Odenberg probably used Lilith as a cover, and an assistant. When he died, she kept up the business. I wonder how they got together."

"They both attended the San Diego Comic Con the last two years running," David said. "She was working the Blue Diamond booth. It's a huge convention, but it's an interesting coincidence."

"Logical," Technofox agreed. "Maybe Lilith intended to retire -- so she tried to make it look like 7.62 died."

"Could be," Bishop agreed. "You said you had something for me, a watch?"

Technofox held the two watches, showing the faces to Bishop. One was in a plastic bag.

"Two watches," he said, agreeably.

"This one is mine," Technofox explained, gesturing with the one that wasn't in a bag. She put it down, and held up the protected one. It was slightly scuffed, as though it had been in an explosion. "This is Lilith's."

"So you took it off her wrist?" Bishop asked, voice neutral.

"No, sir. It was on the ground near me. It's got a heart monitor, and the cardiac emergency message probably triggered the bomb." She caught her breath. "The service she subscribed to sends a message to local response teams, and to an emergency contact the user defines. That probably was the destruct code. That one message might have set off a number of unexplained bombings or fires throughout the country. The FBI should be told."

"Good thinking." Bishop nodded. "After you left, an ambulance showed up looking saying that they were told someone named Per Odenberg had just had a heart attack. We wondered where the watch got to. The funny thing is that the monitor turns off if you undo the catch...keeps it from sending alarms every time you take the watch off."

"Wasn't she missing a hand?" she asked.

"Her right," Bishop said.

What Technofox had said so far was true. Now it was time for her to lie.

"There you go. The watch came off without releasing the catch. The grenade she used to kill herself blew it towards me. I saw it and thought it was mine." She shook the watches. "I didn't have my watch with me, but you can see why I got confused. Sorry, Captain. I didn't know I was taking evidence away from a crime scene. It's in a bag now, but I've been handling it. Your lab can probably pull Lilith's fingerprints from it despite that."

Bishop glanced at the time. It was barely eight in the morning: before deliveries were made, and watch stores didn't open until nine or ten. It was probably impossible that Technofox had an identical watch delivered since late last night. So he nodded. "Natural mistake," he agreed. "We'll forget about that. I'd've shared the data with you anyway."

Technofox didn't know if he was fooled, or if he just didn't feel it was worth pursuing. Either way.

"That wristwatch was designed for people to use while working out," Technofox continued. "It's got sixteen gigs of memory on it for music. But when I looked at the contents last night, I found a fifteen gig RGP key."

He looked very interested as he sipped his coffee. "So it fits the RGP archive on Odenberg's computer? The one we got from his apartment?"

"Exactly," Technofox said. She brought up a file browser. "This is 7.62's decrypted archive," she said.

"That's nowhere near fifteen gigs of files," Bishop said, peering.

"It comes to about thirty megs," Technofox agreed.

"Which is _War and Peace,_ ten times over," David observed.

"Right," Technofox said. "It's natural, really. When you set up an RGP archive, you're going to make it as big as convenient. What's fifteen gigs?" Technofox shrugged. "Even notebook computers have hundreds."

"I see your point," Bishop agreed.

"7.62 didn't use much of it, though. Again, not surprising. He's not going to put his video collection in there. Just essential information he needs to do his job. And unfortunately, once the job's over and paid for, he's going to delete his research materials to protect his clients. And when you delete from an RGP archive, it can't be recovered."

"Crud," Bishop muttered. "But he'd have to keep contact information."

"Yes, sir, he did." Technofox grimaced. "There's a database of eighteen thousand different names, with email addresses, websites, passwords..."

Bishop sighed.

"Obviously he didn't have eighteen thousand clients," David said. "Most of them are probably pulled from phone books."

"Which makes the list almost useless," Bishop said. "I'll bet Vlad Korolev is in it."

"Yes, sir, he is," Technofox said. "Quite a few figures reputed to be connected to organized crime."

"But Korolev can claim it's coincidence. And with eighteen thousand names, the court would have to judge in his favor."

"It would be possible to see which of these people he's been communicating with," Technofox observed.

"And there might be a code," David said. "Say ... only the Home Phone numbers are valid, and every Business Phone number ending in '26' is a client. Something like that."

"It'll take months to work it out," Bishop said. "And it's still not the sort of proof that holds up in court. No, all this can do is point us at people."

"Yes, sir," Technofox agreed. "Worse, 7.62 keeps information on clients and targets and law enforcement. You can't assume everyone on this list is a client, or a blind. Case in point." She showed that Dr. Travis Walton had an entry. She opened another contact: the name was "Foxforce." She let that sink in.

She had added the Foxforce entry herself, last night.

"This one is us," she said, unnecessarily. She moved the cursor over the screen. "And this is the web page, user name, and password we use to book travel. In other words, Lilith could access our travel itineraries."

"You're changing your account, of course," Bishop said. "If 7.62 has it, other people might."

"Not yet," David said. "Now that we know it's blown, we're going to try to fake people out. Besides, we don't want to set up a new one until we know how the old one was leaked. Foxforce will be renting a car and driving back to Boston instead of using their plane tickets. Better safe than sorry."

"I thought your friend Larson took your car down to Atlanta," Bishop mused.

Technofox gave herself a high-five. Bishop had checked on that, as she thought he might.

"It's a small car," she explained. "We've got five plus luggage." She smiled pleasantly. At least Modesty was covered now.

"I booked my own passage using a different account, so I'll fly back to New York," David said.

"Very smart," Bishop agreed. "I was hoping you could hang around a bit. At least until the reports are finished."

"ICON's interest in this was to find information that would either lead to the arrest and conviction of the assassin known as 7.62," David said, "Or to prove he was dead. I think we've satisfied the conditions of the contract."

"Yes, that's reasonable, but we've still got to do the paperwork." Bishop nodded. "Honestly, I'd rather not go to a judge, but..."

"You won't have to. Since ICON's policy is to co-operate, we'll stay in town, available, until the twenty-first. We've got reports of our own to finish. Beyond that I'm afraid I'd need a check or a subpoena to show the bean counters." David shrugged. "My team's time is valuable."

"Thanks, it's appreciated," Bishop said. "Officially, the case is open until we finish the paperwork. I'll expedite that as much as I can, but I think we've got this nailed. Hell, we've got video of a chimera waving around 7.62's custom pistol." He shook his head. "7.62 is deader than Jack the Ripper, and my report will say that."

"Thank you, Captain," David said.

Technofox opened the second and last forgery she had added.

"This is a dossier on Doctor Walton," she said. "Time stamped notes on his movements. Notice that these coincide with his jogging. His lecture schedule up to the tenth. Maps of the area. This building. Even a file from an astronomy program, showing where the sun would be when 7.62 made the hit." She shook her head. "Of course, Lilith wasn't stupid enough to set up a to-do saying 'Shoot Walton on February 9th for Joe Blow.' Why should she? She could remember that. But everything she needed to kill Walton is here."

Technofox had collected most of that data herself. Of course, she hadn't changed anything in the RGP archive they had taken from Odenberg's computer in his apartment. The police had to have their own copy, and they would spot the discrepancy.

An RGP archive was read by comparing values in a key and values in the archive to produce the decrypted data. To make data show up that wasn't there originally, you could add it to the archive -- or you could add it to the key, to make data appear where there had only been blank sectors before.

Adding the data to the key had been easy. Making the checksums match up had been difficult. But a bogus phone number or two had squared it all away. Technofox was quite proud of herself. The only way they'd spot her forgery was by applying the key to an as-yet undiscovered RGP archive on a different machine, and she was pretty certain they would just show corrupted data.

"Anything that says who hired him to kill Walton?" Bishop asked. "Or rather, her?"

"No, unfortunately," David said. "There's a dossier on the man she killed in Mexico, and that's hyperlinked to ten of the contacts. I'd bet that one of them is the client -- which, I don't know, but Mexican police will appreciate the suspect list. The only link in Walton's dossier is to Walton's contact information. She might have kept the client in her head."

"Is there anything here about Geronimo?" Bishop asked.

"Not that we've seen," Technofox said. "I'd guess that was on the computer in the van."

"Okay," Bishop said. "Let's say she was hired by someone unknown to kill Ashok Mehta, and later this same person hired her to kill Walton."

"That's possible, but Walton and Mehta just weren't obvious mob targets. Since Walton's dossier doesn't reference a client, we think she did those two for herself," David said. "No evidence, of course: she wouldn't make notes about her own motives. And she's dead. Blind alley."

"Why would Lilith want to kill Mehta and Walton?"

David hesitated. This would be a hard sell to Bishop. "Lilith didn't want responsibility," he said. "She liked to take orders. Mehta and Walton represented something that frightened her."

"You're anthropomorphizing," Bishop said. "Chimerae do kill from time to time, but it's because someone abuses them, or they think they're abused, or they want something."

"Sounds like most human murders to me," David mused.

"Sometimes a chimera kills, sometimes it's even premeditated," Bishop hedged. "But you're not just describing a premeditated killing, you're claiming a chimera chose," he said, emphasizing the word 'chose' as the crux of his point, "chose to assassinate two people. On her own volition. Chimerae don't think that way. We know Lilith killed Mehta and Walton. But she was a weapon. Someone had to tell her to do it."

"We'll have to agree to disagree there," David said politely.

And that, Technofox thought, was the crowning irony. When Bishop had accused them of planting the book in Odenberg's apartment, he had been wrong for the right reasons. Now he was right for the wrong reasons.

"Leaving that aside, why did she hang around after killing Walton?" Bishop asked casually. So casually, in fact, that it seemed studied and fake.

"Us," Technofox said briefly. "Foxforce. She went to Geronimo. She ordered a lap dance from Shadowfox. She was going to kidnap her. That's why she had nonlethal weapons -- the spray, the taser."

"Yes, obviously," Bishop said. "But why kidnap Shadowfox?"

"If you're right about her, she tried to kidnap Shadowfox because someone told her to," David said. "If you're speculating about her motives, you're anthropomorphizing."

"I never said chimerae were wind-up toys," Bishop frowned. He pointed at Technofox. "She's sharp, she's analytical, she's brighter than half the guys on the force, she sees things I miss, and she's forgotten more about computers than I'll ever know. I don't buy Lilith killing Mehta and Walton without orders. Assassination is too abstract. But Lilith may have had a reason of her own to kidnap Shadowfox. Did she?"

"Yes," Technofox said. "Lilith was a princess in Blue Diamond. She liked it there. And we burned it down." She bit her lip. Was Bishop provoking her? Deliberately? David flinched. "Accidentally, of course," she finished, lamely.

"Blue Diamond deserved to burn down and it's just sad the owners didn't burn with it," Bishop said. "So your chimera was making a joke, and I think I owe you a drink now. Still, Lilith had to know it was crazy to hang around after killing Walton."

"You might be overestimating Lilith," David said. "Look at it this way. Odenberg was 7.62. We've traced his work back a couple of years, and before that he was French Foreign Legion. Lots of experience, a very credible professional killer."

"Yep."

"Last September, Blue Diamond burned down. Lilith runs away in October. In December, Odenberg's dead. Any killing after December was done by Lilith."

"Obviously."

"Since December, 7.62 has killed three times: Ashok Mehta in early January, that coyote Esteban Vega around February first, and Walton on February ninth. She did both the non-mob killings."

"With you so far."

"So Lilith got a two month apprenticeship, and she gets caught the day after her third hit. Let's face it -- she wasn't as good as Odenberg."

"Maybe Lilith thought she was faking us out," Technofox said. "Besides, Captain Bishop proved she has an accomplice somewhere in town." Technofox brought up 7.62's contact list. "His name's probably there somewhere." And that, she thought, would take attention away from Morgan.

Cheshire had been on the list. Technofox didn't believe Cheshire was involved, but she had removed that contact anyway. The jaguar was too tempting a suspect, since she was on site, and interrogating her wouldn't involve lawyers.

And despite what Firefox thought, Technofox felt they owed her.

"Actually, you figured out Lilith had an accomplice before I did," Bishop said.

"What?" Technofox said, surprised.

He looked at her. "Trains run both ways on a track."

"I don't follow," David said.

Bishop nodded. "You see, after Tech found that coffin -- we can't prove it was the coffin, but we know damn well it was -- it was obvious 7.62 had an accomplice. But I gotta wonder -- why would you suddenly look for a coffin?"

Technofox was quiet.

"The coffin in the basement proves that 7.62 had an accomplice", Bishop said. "So, an accomplice shows there might be something connected with the crime in the basement. Maybe the accomplice confessed and told you where the coffin was. Which was it?"

Wow, Technofox thought, looking at him. I hope we never run into Bishop again.

"Technofox is very thorough," David said. "And I assume she simply realized something might have been hidden in the garbage."

"David's right," Technofox said, wishing she could do the dumb-little-chimera thing.

"Maybe. I feel silly admitting it," Bishop said, "but that was when I realized you were not involved in killing Doctor Walton. If you were involved, why would you go out of your way to prove there was an accomplice?" He shook his head. "No, you'd avoid proving a group was involved."

"So that's when you started to trust us?" David asked.

"I still don't trust you," Bishop said affably. "But I don't believe she --" he said, pointing to Technofox "-- killed Doctor Walton, or that she was an accessory to it. Maybe I'm anthropomorphizing, but no human in her position would have done that." Bishop got to his feet. "Well, I've got reports to work on. You do good work."

David nodded, just slightly. "Thank you. So do you, Captain."

Bishop walked to the door, slipping into his coat. Technofox watched him, breathing hard.

"I was thinking of a client who raped me in Blue Diamond," Technofox said suddenly.

Bishop stopped short, and turned to face her, fury barely concealed.

"Did you see him in Atlanta?" he asked. "Give me a name and I'll nail his ass to the wall, one way or another. I promise."

And he would, she realized. He was promising to use police powers to harass someone who hadn't broken a law. She wished she could hate him.

"At least he knew I was a woman," she said quietly.

There wasn't anything that could be said to that, not really, and Bishop didn't try.

Epilog 1

As Technofox had expected, the media and computer recovered from the van was a total loss; blobs of plastic that had once lived and held data. It wasn't worth taking them out of their plastic evidence bags. Goodbye, little gadgets, she thought, sadly. In a better time, you lived, but --

"Ooo," Silverfox said. "Come to me, my precious."

Technofox looked over, puzzled. Silver couldn't mean the warped and twisted computer equipment. That would be perverse.

And she hadn't. Silverfox was holding a gun in a plastic bag. At first glance, it looked like a Derringer, two barrels atop one another, made from black composite. But the barrels were slightly too big compared to the handle.

"That's a --" Bishop started.

"Double-shot Derringer chambered for 7.62 rifle ammunition," Silverfox said. "And the handle has a connector for a holdout rig." She nodded. "Okay. This is Lilith's backup pistol. She didn't have it in Geronimo because she was already carrying the bear spray and taser up each sleeve. It's just beautiful. Technofox, I want a gun just like this. Can I have a gun just like this?" she asked, wheedling.

"Geeze," Technofox said. "We'd have to have it special made, or something. That would run over a thousand, easy."

"So you're saying we could get two for the cost of the notebook computer you almost never use?" Silver asked.

"I wouldn't put it that way," Technofox hedged.

Silverfox snorted disdainfully. "Of course you wouldn't."

"I was going to say there's no way anyone could hand-hold that," Bishop said. "Cripes, it's a sniper rifle cut down to the receiver and next to no barrel. I have no idea why Odenberg would have something like that made. It's impossible to control."

"I'll bet I can," Silverfox said.

"What would you bet?" Bishop asked.

"Are you serious?" Silver blinked.

"Sure. Forensics has been working on it, and they've already test-fired it from a vise."

"For beer at the cop bar," Silverfox said.

"Make it lunch," Bishop said. "It's just one and I've got work to do this afternoon."

"Done. Tech," Silver said, "Name the terms."

"You have a firing range, of course?" Technofox said. "At least ten meters?"

"Of course," Bishop said.

"Give her twenty practice rounds since she's never handled the gun before," Technofox suggested. "For all she knows, it won't fire at all."

"That's fair," Bishop agreed.

"Then she has three seconds to fire the last two, both through the target's head, at ten meters."

"Done," Silver nodded.

"I can't lose," Bishop said. "Seeing that would be worth burgers and fries."

"With chicken wings. I had my mouth set for chicken wings last night, but do I get any sympathy from my friends? No, I do not. You done here, Tech?" Silverfox asked.

"Sure," Technofox said. "I'll grab a cab back to Best Condo. I'm pretty tired."

"I'll have one of the guys drop you off in a prowl car," Bishop said.

"Thanks," Technofox said.

Technofox got out of the prowl car and waved to the cop. Tired, she walked towards the doors of Best Condo. She was about where Walton had been gunned down. She looked up, reflex; she smiled at herself. No, there was no sniper.

She considered stopping off at the diner, and decided against it. Instead, she went up the elevator and opened the door to the apartment.

Stephanie was looking at her, startled. She was kneeling on a table, topless, wearing black panties. One of her hands was on a breast, the other between her legs. Andrew looked up from his camera.

"Sorry," Technofox apologized.

"Actually, I think we want to keep that," Andrew said. "You got a very cute expression on your face there."

"It's okay, Tech," Stephanie said. "It's your apartment."

"I'll go to the bedroom," Technofox said.

"Okay," Andrew said.

"Uh, want to watch?" Stephanie asked. "I'd like your input. You're bi, right?"

Technofox kept her eyes firmly on Stephanie's. It was an effort to keep from staring at her breasts. "Uhm, okay," she said.

"Just stand behind Andrew, all right?" Stephanie asked. "Thanks."

Technofox got out of the way, and watched. Andrew lifted the camera to his eye. "I'm set," he said.

The camera actioned. Stephanie massaged one breast. Her panties were thin and clung to her; Technofox could see them fold into the slit between her legs. Stephanie ran a finger lightly over that, and stopped right above it. She started working at her clitoris.

"Tech," Stephanie asked, "Can you talk to me?"

"You're beautiful," Technofox said immediately. She hesitated. "Uh, I want to kiss you."

"Kiss me where?" Stephanie asked.

"Kiss your breasts," Technofox replied.

Stephanie lifted her left breast to her mouth. Her sharp teeth closed softly on her breast, pinching it, then she put out her tongue and flicked it over her nipple. She shuddered, slightly, involuntarily. "Like that?"

"And your lips," Technofox said. She hesitated. She wasn't sure if she sounded stupid. "I want to kiss your beautiful face, and I want to see your eyes."

Stephanie looked at her, surprised again. And her eyes softened, and Technofox felt the fur on her neck rise. Stephanie gulped and touched herself. Technofox's nostrils flared; Stephanie was aroused. Technofox had the extraordinary feeling that Stephanie was excited for her, which was ridiculous.

"I want to taste you," Technofox said. "I want to taste and smell your excitement, I want to know I'm bringing you to the brink."

Stephanie fell forward, catching herself with one hand. Her breasts hung straight down, her free hand rubbed at her panties, and her eyes held Technofox's. They were filled with pleading, longing. Technofox licked her lips and Stephanie licked her own, as though she was imagining their tongues touching. Technofox blew her a kiss.

At that moment, Stephanie climaxed. She fell to an elbow, her buttocks high and her back sloping up and away from them. She closed her eyes and panted, exhaling through pursed lips as she fought to get control of her breathing.

"That was magnificent," Andrew said dryly. Stephanie chuckled and smiled. Andrew cleared his throat. "No, really. That was just perfect."

"Thanks," Stephanie said. She got awkwardly to her feet, pulled a robe on.

"We've still got half an hour," Andrew said.

Stephanie grinned. "I won't be able to stand for half an hour," she said, incongruously. She shook her head. "Can we start going through these?"

"Sure," Andrew said. He opened a notebook, touched a few buttons, and the TV lit up with a still photo of Stephanie, in a robe, kneeling on the table and giving the camera a look that was an invitation and a challenge.

"I like that one," she decided. Andrew nodded and toggled to the next. It was similar, but her spine had more of a curve to it. "No, that one instead," she said.

"I think the first one's a little more direct," Andrew said. "Around your eyes."

"My tits look better here."

"Your eyes are your best feature," Technofox disagreed.

"Oh. Thanks. Okay, the first one, then."

"I think they really got better when Technofox showed up," Andrew said.

"Right," Stephanie agreed. "When I started playing with myself for real instead of just for the camera."

"Well, I am a wildlife photographer. I'm a bit weak in posing models."

Stephanie smiled. "Nah. You're worth what we paid you, really." She turned away from them and took her panties off. She tucked them into a stamped and addressed envelope. "I'd like to mail these out today," she said.

There were three envelopes, and the other two had identical panties on them.

"That should be no problem," Andrew said. "We'll just go through these and pick the ones you want burned to disk for mailing."

"And I'll get copies of all of them?" Stephanie asked.

"Of course."

Stephanie took a second pair of panties and pulled them on. She patted them onto the slick fur between her legs as they went through more pictures, cycling between the similar ones before settling on the one they liked best in a set. Stephanie took the second pair off and put them into the second envelope.

She pulled on the third pair and Technofox couldn't resist reaching out and stroking them against her sweet, moist fur. Stephanie looked at her, surprised, and smiled a little. She sat down and held Technofox's hand as they went through the hundreds of pictures -- about five hundred in all -- deleting a few which didn't come out at all, or where she looked like she was trying to sneeze or she was awkwardly posed.

Stephanie shook her head. "I can't believe how pretty you made me look," she said.

"It wasn't hard," Andrew said. The disk burner hummed and the first of three disks popped out.

Stephanie hesitated. She kissed Technofox's hand.

"Thanks," she said, looking up at her. "I'm just a cheap house hooker, but looking at you look at me -- you made me feel like a goddess."

"You're not that," Technofox said. "You are a goddess."

Stephanie smiled, embarrassed and flattered. Tech assumed she was putting it on, but maybe not. "Your girlfriend's lucky, you know."

Stephanie took the disks and put one in each envelope as she walked out, barefoot, naked under her robe, leaving Technofox alone with Andrew.

"She's beautiful," Technofox said.

"So are you," Andrew said gallantly.

Technofox's fatigue was gone, replaced by the excitement Stephanie had brought out. Andrew busied himself with his equipment, checking batteries and data connections.

Technofox sniffed. He was excited too.

She looked at him.

Well, why not?

Tentatively, she stepped up behind him and put an arm around him. He turned, and Technofox assumed it was to brush away her touch. Instead, he put his camera down and embraced her.

She tilted her head back and touched the tip of her tongue to his lips. His hands moved down on her buttocks, and her teeth closed, gently, on his lip. She closed her eyes and he kissed her, lightly at first, and then more forcefully.

They broke the embrace. "Tech, I --" he said uncertainly.

She touched his lips. She knew he had nothing scheduled until three. "No words," she whispered.

She wasn't sure who steered them into the bedroom. Since she was at the police station, she wasn't wearing her gun, so at least she didn't have to take that off where Andrew couldn't see. She hopped awkwardly out of her shoes, and then her jacket and pants, wishing she was wearing something she could remove gracefully, like Shadowfox at Geronimo. He started to lift his shirt, but she barely shook her head. He looked at her with an indulgent smile, and stopped.

She took off her lightly-armored shirt. She wasn't wearing a bra. His eyes dropped off her face and then back; she smiled and cupped one breast like Stephanie had, stroked it lightly, pinched her nipple -- she felt a sharp twitch of pleasure shoot through her at that -- and then took off her panties. She stood in front of him, naked, and pressed her lips against his, felt his hands run through her fur.

She undid his belt and opened his pants. She knelt, ran her tongue over him, took him into her mouth. He was hard enough. His hand rested lightly on her head. She took her mouth away, and pushed him wordlessly to sit on the bed. Kneeling, she undid his laces -- tangled one because her hand was shaking -- took off his shoes and socks. She wanted to touch her tongue to his foot, but instead she made him lean back. She pulled off his pants, then his underpants, and his shirt.

He turned to lie down on the bed, on his back. Lilith had told Technofox that a Blue Diamond girl had to work harder as the client got more tired -- first, he would be on top, fast and hard, to satisfy his first urgence; then she would go on top to let him rest and caress her while he was still hard enough to enter her but tired from the first; then she should use her mouth when he couldn't quite get it up but could still climax. Or, if he was new, she should kneel and use her mouth to show him she was there for him. He had a right to pleasure; for her it was a reward.

Technofox crawled on top of him, took his shaft in her hand, guided it into her. Eyes closed, she slid down, taking him into her. She sat still for a moment, savoring him within her, moved her hips up slightly to adjust the angle.

His hand was on her chin, cupping her face.

"You feel good," he said softly.

She bit his thumb lightly, and squeezed his erection tightly, to see him gasp with surprise. His hands moved to her breasts, and as he stroked them, she began moving her hips, sliding him slowly out and then in again. They found their rhythm.

As they quickened, Technofox had to lower herself down, supported by her hands. His hands squeezed her breasts. He pinched and she bit her lip; she nodded quickly to show that she liked that. And an instant after that he gathered himself and climaxed; she felt him come into her, and cried out for the first time in her own orgasm.

She lay on top of him. He was still inside of her, and she tried to control her breathing.

She thought she understood their relationship with Andrew now. Because of their history, she could be Candi with him, and still be unashamed. She closed her eyes, and her thoughts faded, and she glowed with wordless pleasure, at this moment the passionate copulating animal Walton had wanted her to be.

But with Andrew, it was okay. He understood.

"Technofox?" he whispered.

Technofox's eyes snapped open. She had been drowsing off. Words came back, and with them, the responsibility of using them.

"Yes?" she asked.

He stroked her fur gently, just at the places she liked to be touched. "Could you pose for me some time?"

Startled, she looked at him, unbelieving.

He misunderstood her surprise. "I know, it's an imposition," he explained. "And it's okay if you don't want to. But you're so beautiful, and I really think you'd get my portfolio more attention. And it would help me a lot."

"...Really?" She asked, disbelief on her face.

He smiled and nodded, and she cuddled up against him because she was afraid she might cry.

When she woke up, he was gone, but there was a note in his handwriting in the bathroom: "Objects in mirror are prettier than they think."

Epilog 2

"Modesty," Firefox said. "Are you all right?"

Modesty nodded. "My owner's left," she said. "He didn't ... you know. He won't be back for a month."

"Good," Firefox said. "By then you'll be in Massachusetts or Canada."

They were in the chimera lounge. It was funny, but Technofox would miss it. It was odd how you could get used to a place. She took from the Bucket-O-Burgers with a heavy heart, for she, knew it would be her last.

"Andrew drove down to Atlanta with our car," Technofox said. "I've pulled out the transponder. The car's parked in the E-Z Garage, prepaid for a week." She put a card on the table. "Here's the ticket."

"I know where the garage is," Modesty said.

"Good. Now tomorrow, the four of us and Andrew are going to take our rental car up to Boston. We'll take the transponder from our car with us."

"It'll be a squeeze, but we're buddies," Firefox grinned.

"Anyone tracking us will think we're two cars in a convoy." Technofox said.

"As far as the police are concerned, we're just five friends taking the scenic route home in two cars," Firefox said. "Andrew's a photographer. Couldn't be more innocent."

"Then, sometime in the next seven days, you get our car out of the garage and head up to Boston," Technofox said. "The route I suggest is programmed into the navigation system. No highways until you hit the free states."

"Park in charging spots, sleep in the car, and pay cash for everything. Will it work?" Modesty asked, picking nervously at the edge of the table.

"Unless you do something that gets you pulled over and identified, you will get safely to Boston," Firefox said firmly. "What happens then is up to you."

"Good," Modesty said bleakly.

It wasn't quite the reaction Technofox expected, but it was understandable. Modesty was taking a huge, terrifying risk.

"If you do get pulled over, try to be casual about the whole thing," Technofox said. "I've forged a travel letter, keep it in the glove compartment. The phone number under your owner's name is Andrew's. If you're lucky, they won't look up your owner's number. The story is that your owner borrowed our car, and you're driving it back to us."

"It's no good," Modesty blurted out. "I can't."

Technofox pressed her lips together.

"Cold feet?" Firefox asked. "This might be your only chance."

"No, it's not that," Modesty said. "I can't lie to you." She gulped, and she started to cry.

Firefox and Technofox looked at one another. "I got nothing," Technofox said.

"Modesty," Firefox said, her voice turning ugly, "Talk to me. Are you an informant?"

Modesty looked up, horrified. "No!" she cried out.

"Leave her alone," came a voice from the supply cabinet over the sink.

Firefox put her hand on the butt of her gun as the supply cabinet doors popped open. Cheshire turned so her feet dangled over the edge, and dropped out. She landed as though from a greater height, probably to spare her knees. Cheshire stood.

"The idea was," Cheshire said, "for me to ride shotgun."

"Why the deception?" Firefox asked, her expression blank.

"You shouldn't have to ask," Cheshire replied.

"That's true," Firefox agreed.

"What's between you and me is between you and me," Cheshire said. "Don't break your word to Modesty." She hesitated. "Say the word, and I'll stay behind."

"I don't trust you to do that," Firefox said.

Firefox looked away and Technofox held her breath.

"What the hell." Firefox tossed a key ring over to Cheshire. "Bring it back in one piece."

"I owe you," Cheshire said.

Firefox glared at her. "Yes," she said.

Well, Technofox decided, that was good enough.

"Two travelling together might make it more suspicious," Technofox said. "Two felid chimerae, one with a cane."

Firefox nodded, and thought it over. "When you stop for power and food," she said, "Cheshire needs to be in the back seat under a blanket. Don't ever buy two meals to go at the same place -- get one and stop somewhere else."

"At the drive-in window," Cheshire said.

Firefox hesitated, reluctant to approve of something Cheshire said, but finally nodded.

Epilog 3

The sun was down, and they feasted on hamburgers and hot dogs and chicken legs; six chimerae and David and Andrew. Stephanie was upset and trying not to let Morgan see. Morgan saw and tried to make Stephanie think he was fooled. He would be leaving at nine PM to catch a flight back to Illinois. His bags were neatly stacked by the front door. It was efficient, but it had to be a continuous reminder to Stephanie.

How would Stephanie feel when Modesty and Cheshire vanished? Anxious over reprisals or new security measures? Fear over breaking in a new overseer? Would she wonder why she didn't get the back seat?

Well, Technofox imagined herself saying, there's an ocean of slaves and we have an eyedropper. Nothing personal. And hey, it's not like you asked.

Cheshire and Modesty weren't invited; it was better they kept their distance.

David put an arm around Shadowfox's waist and kissed her lightly behind the ear. Shadowfox looked up from the chicken legs she was cooking, grinned, and touched her snout gently to his cheek. It was a casual bit of affection that annoyed Technofox for no good reason. It wasn't David's fault.

Technofox caught Shadowfox's eye. She touched a claw to her throat, and scratched once towards her chin. It was a signal: "We need to talk."

Studiously, Firefox and Silverfox pretended not to notice. They probably thought Technofox was going to talk about something else.

Shadowfox nodded. She flipped the chicken over, turned the barbecue to a lower setting. The master bedroom was right past the bathroom, and Technofox fell innocently in line with her. Andrew and David glanced at them uncomfortably, but Silver and Fire distracted them with some casual conversation.

When they were in the master bedroom, Shadowfox closed the door. They didn't bother to turn the light on. The window was open, showing the glow of buildings and a few of the brighter stars.

"Lilith accused us of killing her master," Technofox said, without preamble.

Shadowfox blinked, surprised that Technofox wasn't bringing this up in front of the others. "Odenberg?" she guessed.

"That's what I thought at first. I asked her. And when I said that, she thought it was funny. Like I said the one thing that convinced her we didn't kill her master."

Shadow frowned. "Who was her master?"

Technofox ignored the question. "And then she stays in Atlanta after killing Walton. That's a big slip on her part, isn't it?"

"Why are we talking about this alone?" Shadowfox asked.

"Trust me. Lilith ran away from her legitimate owner, and shacked up with Odenberg instead. Funny thing for a slave like her to do. Like she had a mental image of what her master should be, and the guys who bought her didn't match up. What kind of master would she want after Blue Diamond? A sexually abusive man, maybe?"

Shadowfox frowned. "Walton? That's a big jump."

"Maybe." Technofox reflected. "Bear with me. So Lilith thinks of Walton as her master. If that's so, then Walton must approve of her apprenticing herself to a mob killer. Why? Logically, because Walton wants someone killed. So did 7.62 kill anyone who didn't seem to fit the pattern of a mob hit? Just Ashok Mehta. Who was in charge of the NAAAP. And Walton had a good chance of taking over from him, remember?"

"Interesting, but farfetched," Shadow said politely.

"Then Walton's killed. Lilith knew you from Blue Diamond. And she knew you helped destroy Blue Diamond. Maybe she has a dossier on us, maybe she sees your picture on Geronimo's webpage. But she knows you're in Atlanta. What does she assume?"

"That we killed Walton," Shadowfox said softly. "Of course."

"Perfectly logical from her point of view. So she comes to town to talk it over with you. Texas to Georgia -- she could drive that in a day or two."

"It makes sense, but if Lilith didn't kill Walton, who did?"

Technofox scratched her head. "I'll bet that Morgan knows."

"Possibly," Shadowfox agreed. "Why not Cheshire?"

"Carrying the coffin to the basement with one hand on her cane and the other balancing a six foot case? Kind of hard to picture."

"...Yes," Shadowfox admitted.

"I think it was Morgan who helped get Odenberg's body to the roof, disposed of the coffin, and made sure Walton would be in the target zone at the right time. He'd be the perfect accomplice to this killing."

"Yes, he would. But that doesn't prove he was one."

"But think what a risk he took. Standing in a sniper's sights? Out there in range of a killer who had every reason to keep him quiet? Wow. Very trusting man, Morgan."

"So," Shadowfox said, beginning to sound impatient, "maybe Morgan wasn't the accomplice."

"Who would he do that for?" Technofox asked. "Lilith, a Blue Diamond Tamer? Someone who hurt his Victoria? No, not if he knew anything about Lilith. And he'd try to find out." Technofox shook her head.

"Fine, he wouldn't work with Lilith if he knew about her. His lover, maybe," Shadowfox said. "Stephanie? Didn't she know Walton was a rapist?"

"Stephanie was sleeping with Walton's son when he was shot, and we have nothing that indicates she might be a killer."

"Ah."

"No, I think the killer was someone else. Someone else Morgan owed. Think he'd do it for one of the women who got Victoria out of Blue Diamond? I think he would."

Shadowfox blinked.

"And if it were one of us," Technofox asked, "remember, I said 'if' -- she'd have to get close to Walton. Whose idea was it to come to Atlanta?"

Shadowfox didn't respond.

"And if it were one of us," Technofox asked, "she'd need to get 7.62's custom rounds. Who went to Odenberg's apartment that first night?"

Shadowfox didn't react to that. She looked out the window, into the night her fur blended into, as though wishing she were out there.

"And if it were one of us," Technofox asked, "she'd need time alone. Who works the night shift?"

Shadowfox was silent, as usual.

"Did you shoot Walton, Shadowfox?" Technofox finally asked.

"Don't make me lie to you," Shadowfox answered.

"Like how Firefox didn't want you or Silver involved?" Technofox asked. Shadowfox didn't reply, nor did Technofox expect one.

The little vixen felt something well up in her -- anger, sorrow, both. "Shadow, why take that on yourself? Alone?"

Shadowfox turned to face her. She was backlit by a window. Technofox couldn't see her face when she answered.

"It's what I do," the black vixen said.