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Fox Academy - The New Breed, Chapter 6 - The Reconnaissance

It was a simple reconnaissance mission and should have gone smoothly. Get over the border into Russia, find the compound in the forest, watch it for 3 days and get back out. As a graduate of the FOX Academy, and being a Fox with ones natural stealth and agility, Vikki was well suited for the job.

It was an old forest with large trees spaced far apart, the ground beneath them kept clear by villagers collecting dead fall for firewood. Spring had arrived but not long ago; the leaves that had fallen last autumn were still wet from the last of the melting snow and she could move fast and silently across them. By morning her tracks would have disappeared.

She was dressed in light forest camouflage that covered her russet fur, down to the camouflaged gloves that covered the black fur stockings on her forearms. Her equipment was in an identically camouflaged backpack. Her facial fur was dyed two shades of green and black in a pattern designed to break up the pattern of her face. None of the clothes were new, nor were they freshly laundered. Whoever had prepared this equipment had rubbed it with the debris of a similar forest then left it outside for several days to absorb the smells.

There was no moon tonight and there would be only a sliver of one on the western horizon for a short time the next few nights so she could move with some security. Still, whenever she approached a ridge she set the pack down and went to all fours so as not to silhouette herself, dropping to her belly for the final few meters. After several minutes frozen in place, listening, she would retrieve her pack and move cautiously on.

She had planned her journey so she would near the last ridge overlooking the compound just before dawn, approaching from the east so that the rising sun would be in their eyes if they looked her way. She would look for signs of patrolling or other surveillance on the ridge and retire to a hide for the day. The next night she would construct a blind with a suitable line of sight and begin observing.

She arrived well before dawn and found a suitable spot to rest. While she waited she adjusted her camouflage by adding bits of the local foliage and ground cover. When she judged that the sun had risen high enough to illuminate the buildings of the compound she began to crawl forward, checking each spot before putting down a paw, slowly increasing pressure least a hidden twig snap and scare the birds that had begun their morning chorus. When the ground in front of her began to slope downward she stopped and lifted her head.

There was the compound, in a clearing about 150 meters long by 300 meters wide. The buildings were wood with tile roofs. Nets and foliage had been placed in an attempt to disguise them, but their long regular shadows in the morning sun gave them away. The long one was probably the sleeping quarters, the one with smoke already coming out of the chimney would be the kitchen; but it was the blocky square building with the winch protruding through the roof that the service was interested in. She would note the activity, remember the sounds, take pictures if it was safe to do so, and return to be debriefed. Then analysts and experts would pour over the material, perhaps calling her back to ask new questions. Hopefully they would be able to discern what was going on, if anything.

There was no fence surrounding the compound, but this deep in the woods there was little need for one. A path was worn into the ground just inside the tree line, indicating that the perimeter was patrolled regularly. She could see several faint trails leading into the woods were the traffic was not as regular, and one well-worn trail leading to a small building barely visible in the trees.

As she watched a bear came out of the small building, holding his loose pants with one hand and scratching at his crotch with the other. Without a pause he switched from massaging his balls to picking his nose, then fumbled with his belt before lumbering back into camp. He picked up a rifle from where he had left it leaning against a tree and turned to follow the patrol path. So the little building was the outhouse, out in the woods just where the bears liked it.

Vikki eased back below the ridge and began to prepare for the days ahead.

* * * * * * * *

Vikki was amazed just to find herself here, a junior agent for the Foreign Operations eXecutive, on a real mission, albeit one where she was not allowed much room for initiative. Barely two weeks ago she had been certain that she was about to be dismissed for refusing to participate in one of the Academy's mysterious tests; one involving the attempted seduction of the five remaining students.

She knew that the seductions had been successful in two cases. Bill Hanlan had felt guilty enough to confess to the rest of the students that evening, not to succumbing to the wiles of a passionate Party Poodle, but to hiding the fact that he was married. Delores openly admitted to spending the day with Dr. Gordon, the Rat in charge of the Academy's laboratories and psychological interrogation centre.

"And why not?" She had asked with a sly grin. "Have you seen what he can do with four feet of naked tail?"

"Don't talk about yourself that way Baby Doll." 'Genghis' Hu chipped in. "I'd never call you 'Naked Tail' and you're at least four-foot nine." Delores had left a heel mark on his retreating backside.

Randy had returned shortly after Vikki's confrontation with the little Black Fox, Marcel. When Vikki explained what had been going on he shrugged.

"News to me." He had said. "I've been down by the canal studying for Wednesday's field communications test."

"That's a hard one." Delores noted.

"Yes, he was ... I mean he told me it would be hard ... will be hard ... the test." Randy seemed distracted. Strange, Vikki had thought, maybe they skipped trying to seduce Randy when they found out he once screwed a woodpile because it was rumoured to have a snake living in it, or because they couldn't fine a female in the Academy that he hadn't already slept with, except for her.

She had recounted her encounter with Marcel, and how when she looked back she could see them sharing a laugh at her expense. She was sure that, whatever response they were looking for, blowing up at Marcel had been the wrong one.

So she wasn't surprised when Silver had appeared with the Chief of Staff in her class the next morning. Determined to fight expulsion, she had prepared her approach and rehearsed her arguments. She had worked herself up to such a state that physical symptoms were starting to appear. At the first sight of Silver her fur rose in a line along her spine, her breathing quickened and her brows furrowed as she focused on the source of her antagonism. Suddenly, however, her anger was left with nowhere to go.

"I have an announcement to make." Gold began. "As of now you are all junior agents in FOX. Congratulations."

The students sat in stunned silence.

"Something has come up," Gold continued, "sooner that we would have liked, and too big for the few agents we have left to handle alone. In fact, this is a multi-agency endeavour. You each have talents that we need and your training has progressed sufficiently to allow you to play the parts we have in mind for you. For those of you who have not been introduced to him, the Fox behind me is senior agent Silver. He is the agent-in-charge for this operation so he will lay it out for you. Good luck ... agents." And with that the imposing Fox had left the room.

Silver had stood casually at the front of the class for a moment, scanning back and forth across the five Foxes that waited in anticipation to hear of their first mission. Hearing a noise behind her, Vikki had looked around to find that Marcel had joined them sometime during Gold's speech. He was sitting in his usual place at the back of the class, flicking a Buck knife open and closed, but he had stopped when he saw that he was being watched.

Silver had then put a thumb drive into the instructor's laptop on the podium. Pressing a few keys made the screen light up. An instant later an image of a missile with three tapering stages appeared. It had been mostly white except for an American flag painted on it. Silver began to speak.

"This is one of the American anti-missile missiles; part of the so-called 'Ballistic Missile Defence Shield'. As you know, these are deployed on the American mainland and in Alaska. What you don't know is that they have already been deployed to certain bases in Europe, bases in what were once Warsaw Pact states, and Mother Russia is not happy about it." The imaged had changed for one showing mobile launchers, radars, satellites, command aircraft and ships.

"The Americans, and some of her allies, have put a lot of time and money into this system. It is supposed to be invulnerable." Large red X's had suddenly appeared over the inset of one launcher and some of the control platforms, leaving the satellite, one ground radar and two launchers.

"There are supposed to be too many launchers, all mobile, and too many targeting and control systems to ever be able to cripple the system, total redundancy. Every component is made with the latest in Western technology, at least a generation ahead of anything anyone else possesses. But we've been given a rough time of it by low-tech solutions before ..." A series of inset images had then come on the screen as Silver mentioned each.

"The AK-47 Assault rifle, still the weapon of choice for the insurgent on a budget. The RPG-7 rocket launcher, anyone here see 'Blackhawk Down'? The SA-7 short-range shoulder-fired Infrared surface-to-air missile. The Mi-8 HIP helicopter; we're leasing some of these." Then the screen changed to show a fuzzy image of a missile trail, with something exploding where it ended.

"Two days ago, one of the launch units was conducting its final test firings before being declared operational. It fired nine missiles at three targets that had been detected and tracked by four redundant systems. Each missile was tracked by high-speed, long-range video cameras for later analysis. They should have gotten three images similar to this, as three of the missiles struck their targets. What they got was nine images exactly like this, as all nine missiles were themselves intercepted and destroyed by smaller, faster missiles." The screen then went black.

"Needless to say, this disaster has put the entire anti-missile shield program on hold. No one is quite sure of exactly where the missiles were launched from, except that it was probably from Russia, or why they weren't detected. Some analysts believe that the only way that they could have been guided so accurately and simultaneously be invisible to every surveillance platform NATO had up and running that day is if they were being guided by the same systems that were guiding the missile defence exercise." Silver had moved away from the podium to stand directly in front of the students.

"Signals Intelligence analysts spent 36 hours or so going over every one and zero in every communications stream for every system, and they think that they may have found something." He must have had hidden the remote in his pocket because the screen came on again, showing a map of western Russia with about 20 yellow dots on the Russian side of the border.

"The signal which they think may have been used to tap into our systems came from a border guard network with outstations in these locations. Of these, 12 have shown signs of unusual or increased activity." Several of the dots had disappeared.

"No one agency has enough field agents to cover all of these simultaneously and covering them in sequence increases the risk of detection to unacceptable levels. So Canada has been approached to lend a hand. There is a reason for that." The map disappeared and a scanned image that was incomprehensible to the students appeared in its place. Several lines of seemingly random letters, numbers and symbols had been highlighted in pink.

"The other end of the signal, the command that initiated the intercept of the American missiles, exhibited characteristics that are only found in Canadian technology that has never been exported. The analysts believe that this portion of the signal originated in Canada; so we have a vested interest in this case." The map then returned to the screen, but with only three dots remaining.

"Given the nature of this assignment it has fallen to us here at FOX. These three bases are our targets."

Silver pulled an unoccupied desk around in front of the class and sat down on its edge before continuing, "And now, let me explain what I have in mind for each of you."

* * * * * * * *

Three days had passed and Vikki had memorized the bears' routine. One bear patrolled in a clockwise direction during the day, while there were two walking in opposite directions at night. The purpose of the compound itself was still a mystery to her, wheelbarrows full of rocks came out during the day, to be dumped in a hollow several kilometres away, but large wooden crates when in at night.

She could tell that they were heavy because it took four bears, obviously straining, to lift them off their carts and carry them into the building. The roar of the winch engine would follow this. Vikki noted how long the engine ran before reversing itself. She tried to measure the big pulley that protruded out of the building's roof and estimate how fast the cable was being let out. She managed to take a short video for the experts to analyse back at the academy; they would be able to determine the depth of the shaft to within a meter she was sure.

When crates came back out they were carried lightly to the kitchen by only two bears. Sounds of wood breaking and screeching nails told her that the crates were used to fuel the kitchen fires, simultaneously destroying any evidence of what they once held. Economy and security all in one, no fools these bears. She was tempted to try to infiltrate the camp and recover some unburnt pieces but the patrolling never ceased. The risk was too great and there was no guarantee that anything she recovered would be useful, so she stayed put and took as many pictures as she could when they were momentarily illuminated by the light through the opened kitchen door.

The crescent moon had set two hours after dark and it was time to go, but something was happening in the compound below. For the first time something different was being brought out. Almost the entire wall of the winch building had been folded back like an aircraft hanger door. The winch engine was straining as some great weight was being brought to the surface. The usual night time patrol of two bears had been replaced by a ring of eight bears standing silently on the patrol trail, facing outward. A semi-circle of six more stood with their backs to the open building. Counting the four that had gone into the building earlier that left two bears unaccounted for.

Although she would miss her first rendezvous at the recovery point there was another RV an hour before dawn and a third in a different location tomorrow night. Silver, running the show back in the agency's operations centre, would be worried but he wouldn't send in the bloodhounds to look for her right away. If she missed all of her rendezvous they would assume that she had failed and shutdown her portion of the operation. If she sent the recovery signal at the wrong time or from the wrong place they would come prepared for a trap, if they came at all - no promises, Silver had said.

She could afford to stay for another four hours and still make it to the second RV. Vikki settled in with the camera held ready.

* * * * * * * *

For two weeks following their unexpected graduation Vikki, Randy and Genghis had undergone intensive refresher training in reconnaissance techniques and survival, with some Russian language training thrown in.

"You'll be going in with minimal equipment." Silver had explained. No guns, just knives, the kind a camper or naturalist would carry. Included in your kit will be a book on the local birds and plants. Joel the Lemur has prepared documents, visas and permits that state that you are an ornithologist on an authorized field trip. If you are captured, wipe the data in your cameras and pretend to be a lost and befuddled academic. Try to talk your way free, as the paperwork won't hold up if you are delivered to Moscow. Escape if you can and head for the border."

Silver had called Randy to the front and turned him to face the class. "Don't kill if you can talk your way out. Don't fight if you can sneak away. But if you have to use one of the knives, use it to kill." A knife had appeared out of nowhere in Silver's hand and he drew it through the air millimetres from Randy's throat. Randy instinctively tried to grab Silver's arm, but soon found himself prone on the floor with the tip of the blade pressed against the base of his skull.

"Rusty will go over the most vulnerable points and the surest techniques with you before you go. Remember, this isn't a game, it isn't a competition and it isn't a fair fight. It's your life. Do whatever you have to do to stay alive." Had silver been looking directly at her when he had said that?

Vikki saw the professor, Bill Hanlan, around the Academy when they came back from their field training sessions. He was now on Gold's planning staff. The assignment seemed to be a good fit for him, heavy on the intellect but light on the fieldwork. Bill could hold his own, but Vikki wasn't sure if she would put her life in his hands.

She saw Delores less frequently, usually passing on their way to and from the Russian language classes. Delores was taking an intensive Russian course and, according to her, was doing very well.

"It's all about communicating Honey." She had said. "And you know that I am all about communicating with people." That much was true, Vikki was certain; Delores and her amazing self-sustaining bust had set more than one male, and even a few females, to babbling their life stories. Delores was the Human Intelligence collector's dream, a mobile 'press to talk' switch that was easy on the eyes.

The only Fox that Vikki didn't see regularly was the little Black Fox, Marcel. When Silver had finished explaining the other's assignments he had asked, "What's my job in this Silver?"

"This isn't your type of mission" Silver had replied. "You'll stay here at the academy and pick up some of the training you missed earlier. Once we track the origin of that signal down we'll see if we have an assignment in line with your talents."

Marcel had looked disappointed, but he hadn't protested. As they packed up their books and prepared to turn in the various gear issued to students, Vikki caught a glimpse of Marcel, reflected in the window, staring doe-eyed at her. When she turned he was looking away with his patented 'bored to death' expression.

They saw a lot of Silver. If they were given an objective to approach on a field exercise he was likely to jump up from under a pile of leaves and slip a garrote around their necks. If they were told to occupy a hide and watch for his approach he would tap them on the shoulder from behind, from inside the hide.

On one memorable exercise Vikki was told to travel to a certain coordinate and locate an orange-coloured box that had 'fallen' from a damaged aircraft. She had taken four hours to make the final approach, and once she had spotted the crate she spent another six hours checking the perimeter before approaching it. Certain that no one was observing her she checked around the box for booby traps before finally lifting it off the ground. She almost had a heart attack when lifting it revealed Silver's head sitting neck-less on the ground, shouting at her "Damn it! Check under the box too!" before he burst from the ground like a newly minted vampire after its first burial.

When she had the opportunity to confer with Randy and Lianmeng she found that they had had similar experiences. The thought that the crazy old Fox had really spent over 12 hours each time sitting in a dugout with his head through a hole in the cover waiting patiently for them to lift the box was mind numbing. Vikki wondered if she would ever develop that level of self-discipline, or if it was even necessary.

Medical appointments filled in those few hours not already reserved for training or sleep. The water had different bacteria there; need to put these capsules in you canteen for an hour before drinking it. The rations would be light and 'off-the-shelf' to preserve the lost ornithologist cover story; take these vitamins before you go to keep your strength and stamina up. There are different diseases that you will be exposed to there, take these prophylactic medications to prevent illness during or after the mission.

Even tough there had been no reported cases of malaria in the region they were going to for over 100 years the medics had insisted that they take a drug called Mefloquine, or Larium. They had to take it for the two weeks preceding the mission, and for four weeks afterwards. One of the side effects, reported in 15% of the users, was vivid erotic dreams. Vikki turned out to be in the 15%.

* * * * * * * *

At first her dreams were always the same; she would be walking naked down the halls of the Academy. Taller than most Foxes, slim and elegant, like a prima ballerina, she would drift down the halls. Instructors and administrative staff would pass her, all clothed, but without seeming to notice her. At the end of the hall, where the school ended and the operational area began, she had to walk though a gauntlet of former students, all those who had been sent home for one short coming or another. These people were all in their underwear, and they stared at her as she passed.

Once through the doors she found that she was amongst her fellow graduates, Randy, the Professor, Genghis and Baby Doll. They were all naked also, and they ran their hands over her seductively as she passed. Now there was only the main door of the headquarters building between her and destiny, so she broke away from the sweet caresses of her follow students and stepped forwards.

A tug at her tail! She looked around and there was Marcel, still dressed in his baggy clothes and cap, he had taken her tail and was caressing it, hugging it, licking it. Almost a foot shorter than her, he had to look up to meet her eyes. Dark brown eyes in a black face pleaded with her, but she turned away and continued down the path she had chosen.

Blocking the doors at the top of a short flight of stone stairs stood the Chief of Staff, as tall as Vikki and as broad as a wolf, and with a physique that would shame most wolves. The Golden Fox stood nude and magnificent, the embodiment of all that was good and noble at FOX.

Vikki approached Gold, who was several feet above her by virtue of being at the top of the staircase. Vikki put her arms around his hips, ran her hands down the curves of his sculpted glutes and rested her head on his abdomen. Even in her dream she could feel the heat rising off him. She began to trail her fingertips up and down the small of his back, along the back of his thighs, under his arms, combing his fur with her claws, searching for the sensitive spots that would send a tremor thought him.

Usually she woke at this point, with one or more of her paws between her legs, already moist. She found that ignoring the situation only brought the dreams back repeatedly, so she would extend a finger and find the opening in herself. Moving it in and out a bit at a time until it slid smoothly, she would search for the soft, spongy spot that she could just reach inside, and tease it until she shivered with pleasure.

Some nights that would be enough, but not always. More and more often as the training intensified she would withdraw her finger and let it slide up the entrance until it found the hard knob of protruding flesh that her clit had become. Rubbing up and down, circling around, sometimes diving back into her vulva to re-lubricate. Her knees would draw back and her shoulders would hunch forward as her paw pressed harder and harder down, as her finger moved faster and faster. Her eyes squeezed shut but her lips opened in a grimace, and relief would come with a flood and an tremor that left her lying there, covers thrown to the floor, exhausted.

The night before they were to leave Canada she dreamt again, but this time relief would not come. After straining on the edge for what seemed an eternity she lay back for a moment, tired but unsatisfied. Then she brought the image of Gold back from her memory, imagining him in front of her, tall and handsome and desirable. She imagined herself against him, rubbing herself against his length, running her claws through his tail, tracing the edges of his muscles. She slowly began to rub herself again, and felt an immediate response. She imagined his paws on her, caressing her, his lips kissing her nipples until they hardened, his mighty thigh moving up between hers.

She was flowing freely now, hot and wet and just about to cross over when she opened her eyes ... and saw the face of Silver staring down at her!

She froze. Strangely, her desire seemed to intensify for an instant before embarrassment took over and drove it from her body. Lying naked with her paws between her legs, breasts still swollen and nipples erect, she stared back at Silvers image.

The light changed as a cloud passed by, and the face of Silver changed to that of Albert Einstein, white haired and bug-eyed, with his tongue hanging out comically. Baby Doll had given her that poster to remind her not to take life at the academy so seriously all the time. She had put it on the ceiling above her bed so that she could see it before going to sleep each night, but lately she had forgotten that it was there. She had never noticed how much the halo of white hair resembled Silver before.

Vikki cleaned herself up and went into a fitful sleep until it was time to leave.

* * * * * * * *

Less than three hours after the unusual activity at the compound had started Vikki had enough material to call it quits. The light inside the building was good enough for some detailed pictures. She didn't recognize the device that the four bears brought up on a trolley, but she knew from the delicate way they handled it, and the nervousness that the guards were displaying, that a wrong move could be the bears' last.

The two missing bears had appeared from what she assumed was the compound's headquarters, carrying what looked like a satellite antennae dish between them. After mounting it on the object they checked their watches, looked skyward and waited. 20 Minutes latter they checked the time again and gestured for the trolley to be rolled outside. Waiting for a gap in the satellite surveillance she guessed, HQ could confirm when she was debriefed.

When the device was fully outside the two, what? Technicians? Scientists? The two in charge, flipped switches and consulted dials. They turned knobs, shifting the dish slightly, and checked the dials again. Satisfied, they pressed a button and a light began to flash red. After a minute it flashed green, with the light staying on longer with each pulse, until finally it stayed green.

Happy with these results the bears had the device wheeled back into the building and closed the folding doors, remaining inside with whatever it was. Even in the poor light she could see the nearest guards relax visibly - shows over, thanks for coming. Vikki pulled slowly back from the ridge and packed her remaining equipment, having already dismantled her hide and removed as much trace of her presence as possible before dusk. A crawl over the next ridge to get some distance between them, then she could stand up for the first time in three days and stretch.

Five feet up the slope she froze, her left arm poised in mid-air. "zzziizzt" came from behind her. Slowly, to slow for an observer to notice the motion, she turned her head toward the sound. A rustle of material and a grunt drew her eyes to a large dark object amongst the trees 15 meters away. Here, on the opposite side from the outhouse, one of the bears from the outer perimeter had come up to shit in the woods.

He was looking back toward the compound, his back to her, more concerned with getting caught than intruders at the moment. But the flies were already starting to gather behind him and he tossed his head in irritation. He will probably turn to bury it when he's done she thought. Continue or go to ground? The Academy taught that if you hadn't been seen yet, don't move; you'll have the element of surprise if they trip over you. She wasn't worried about him smelling her; the smell of his own feces would overpower anything short of a stink bomb. And after three days she smelled like the forest itself, nor was she menstruating or likely to be drawn into heat by this situation.

Still looking toward the bear she brought her left arm down, and that's when things began to go horribly wrong.

A loud snap, searing, incredible pain, the urge to scream, but she couldn't scream, not with the bears so close. Something on her arm, heavy, metallic, and it had teeth. A leg-hold trap! How had she missed it? She must have crawled within a foot of it on the way down. Through the pain she heard movement behind her and she twisted around, just in time to catch the butt of the Bear's rifle squarely on the forehead.

* * * * * * * *

She must have passed out for a time. When she came too the pain in her arm was the whole world, with the pain in her head just an orbiting moon. Someone had used her belt to put a tourniquet on her arm, but the trap was still attached, grinding bone and cutting flesh with every move.

She felt cool air on her body, cold ground on her buttocks. Her shirt was open, the undershirt and bra pulled up around her neck, and her pants were gone. The bear knelt between her legs, chuckling and snorting excitedly. Oh god, he's got a club. He's going to beat me to death. The thoughts flashed through her head before she realized that it wasn't a club that he was holding in one paw and rubbing with the other. Nobody puts a tourniquet on you and then kills you; he had other things in mind.

The bear moved forward, she tried to pull away but a flash of pain reminded her that she was still caught in the trap. The bear dropped down on top of her.

There would come a day, years later, when Vikki would attempt to describe the sensations that flew threw her that night, but she knew that she could never describe them accurately to someone who had not had a similar experience. How do you describe the fear or the pain you feel, its like describing red to someone who has been blind from birth. The way every muscle tightens up, closing you off from the invader. The burning when they force their way in. The sense of violation as they rip you with every thrust. The draining sensation as you start to bleed. The shame as your blood becomes a lubricant, traitorously assisting the violator.

Sometime too, in the future, she would realize that she had gone a full day without thinking about that night, and then it was a week, then a month; but she would never completely forget. For years to come, turning a corner and coming upon an ursine face unexpectedly would bring the memories rushing back. She avoided walking in any forest in early spring.

It was unlike anything that she had ever imagined, and she mourned her loss of ignorance. But the pain in her arm quickly reasserted itself as the pressure of his pounding drove her repeatedly to the end of the trap's chain; the teeth biting again and again.

With the bear still thrusting and grunting above her, she began casting her right arm about. There, to the right, her pack and harness, with the 10" hunting knife still in its sheath. She could barely brush the material on the pack with her fingertips, not nearly close enough to grip the bag and drag it closer, the chain holding her back.

Vikki began to disassociate herself from what was happening to her. She needed the knife. The chain was keeping her from reaching the knife. If she dug her heels in and pushed just as the Bear bore down, would the combined effort be enough to pull the chain from the ground? Would she be able to remain conscious long enough to act if it did? Did she have any other options? No, she did not.

She brought her knees up and scrapped a rut into the ground with each boot and, and when the Bear was coming down, pushed as hard as she could. With a slam of his hips the bear let out a wavering groan. Inside her a new, wet burning spread. There was a terrible pain as the resistance on her left arm mounted, but suddenly she was free and sliding closer to her pack.

She felt the cold, smooth feel of the knife's mahogany and brass handle on her palm. Thumb on the pommel, blade outward, she drew it from the sheath.

The bear had ceased his pounding, but her lay with head between her breasts snuffling and rubbing his ears against them. She was too weak to risk dropping the knife trying to reverse her grip, and it was too risky to try stabbing him in the back; she needed to get him to lift his head. If she could move her wounded arm, slam him in the side of the head with the trap perhaps, he would naturally lift his head and give her a good shot at his throat.

She turned her head to look at her left arm. There was no trap there. The arm itself was too short. The paw and wrist were gone, only a jagged bone protruded from the ruined flesh.

Vikki stared at her arm. The belt-tourniquet still held, keeping the bleeding down. Her mind almost slipped away then, but she forced it back; the immediate problem had not changed, she would deal with the missing appendage later. She cocked her arm and rammed the bone in the Bear's eye.

With a whistling intake of breath that would soon become a roar of pain he rose up above her, but she struck before he could make another sound, bringing the knife up and across with all the force the pain and rage could give her, in an arc that severed his jugular, his windpipe and his carotid artery. Up and off he rolled, grasping at his neck as Vikki was baptised in a shower of blood, feet beating against the soft ground. Vikki rolled on top of him and tried to hold him down while the last of his life poured from him, afraid that the others down below would hear. She needn't have worried; the winch was running again, lowering something into the earth.

It was over in a minute. The bear lay on his back staring at the stars, with one hand still at his throat, his pants around his ankles. Vikki lay on top of him, her many pains dulled by the adrenaline that still coursed through her veins, and fought to stay conscious. Got to move, get away before they miss this one, get to the RV. Get the pack, the camera is in the pack. Silver Fox will be pissed if she didn't bring the camera back. Where's the arm? They can reattach the arm. Put it in the pack. Put the pack on. Find your pants. Pull the pants on. Crawl up the hill. Roll down the other side. Get up. GET UP! GO! Move!

She couldn't recall how long she spent stumbling through the woods. She didn't know what kept her going or what guided her. She remembered hearing bears far behind her, yelling. Some time later there was a crashing and firing far behind her and to the right, but the sounds got further away after that. The bears were not good trackers at the best of times and night was not their element.

Finally she could not move forward anymore. She was on the edge of a clearing, not her rendezvous, but large enough for a helicopter to land in. She fell to her knees, dropping the pack in front of her. She fumbled one handed with the closure on one of the outer pockets and pulled a small green box from inside it. Flipping the box open on its end she revealed a single white button. Everything began to fade, and blackness engulfed her as she slumped forward to the ground, right arm outstretched into the clearing, the thumb white from the pressure on the button.