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FOX Academy:

Book I - The New Breed

Book II - The Werewolf of Odessa

Book II.5 - The Love who Spied Me

Book III - The Curse of the Yellow Monkey

Chapter 8 - Termination

"I'll take care of you." Silver said softly from behind her. Then he had reached inside his jacket, the silencer was already attached to his Glock when he pulled it out. He brought it up behind Ophelia's head, and over, placing it on the desk before her. She did not touch it, this could be a trap to see if she still harboured murderous intent toward Silver.

"You tried to poison me," Silver said, "but murdered Nelson Knight instead. You also murdered your mate. You have a lot to atone for. FOX has issued a termination order for you, and the minister has signed it. I am authorized to carry out this order, but there is another way."

Looking down at the pistol Ophelia could guess where this was going. A tear rolled down her cheek at the thought that she would not have a chance to say goodbye to Kain.

"You do it please Silver." She asked. "I could never pull the trigger on myself, no matter how much I deserve it."

"You misunderstand me, I'm offering you a form of probation. We have a opportunity to place someone in a unique position." Silver explained the situation with the Perfect Stalker, how they had recovered his laptop and managed to trace him back to his lair after killing him. "With someone we direct in his place we can accomplish two things. First, we can control the upper end of the assassination market. We can pick and choose who gets a contract put on them."

"Won't they just go elsewhere if we turn them down?"

"Sure, but we may be able to identify the clients and interdict them, or at the very least, warn the intended victim. The second advantage is that we will have a completely non-attributable asset available for the most politically sensitive work, like executing one of our own, for example. If you accept, you will be doing the dirtiest of our dirty work. You will not be a FOX agent. You will cease to exist. You will be dead. You will live as the Stalker lived, alone. You will become our Stalker. You will kill without question, without choice, with no recourse. No complaint, no union, no retirement. You will probably only last a few years anyway.

"And my choice is that or death."

"Yes."

"What's to stop me from going underground?"

"The coffee you drank last night during your debriefing. It was laced with a derivative of the poison you used on Knight. There is an antidote that needs to be taken monthly. Someone with your background could easily duplicate it of course, except that it requires a very rare and exotic ingredient that is too expensive to get underground and easy to trace. Unless you agree you are already dead."

"Touché." Ophelia stared out the window at the leafless trees. "I have a few conditions of my own."

"You are in no position to negotiate." Silver replied. "You have nothing to offer."

"Only that the opportunity would be lost otherwise. I don't imagine that you have other murderesses to interview for the position today? No? My conditions are reasonable."

"Let's hear them."

"First, you have to fulfil your promise to bring back my father's remains and put him to rest beside my mother. There's a cemetery near where we lived in Virginia that he liked."

"No problem, I'll take care of it."

"Second, you have to promise that if I die you will put me to rest beside them."

Silver nodded. "If you remains are recoverable. If you fall into an active volcano you are on your own. Wait, I have an idea." Silver produced a knife from nowhere and before Ophelia could react, cut a lock of her fur from the back of her head. The knife disappeared and the tuft of fur was folded into a tissue that went into his jacket pocket. "Just in case. Now a part of you will always be with them. Any other requests?"

"Flowers on the graves every year?"

"Don't push it."

"Please?"

"Okay, but by courier. I don't know when I will be able to visit myself."

"But you will?"

"One day, yes." Silver assured her.

"One last thing. Even the most heinous serial killers in Canadian prisons get a sentence review after twenty-five years under the 'Faint Hope' clause. If I manage to survive that long, I want to be released."

Silver thought for a few moments. Ophelia wondered if she had asked for something that he did not have the power to grant.

"Alright. Everybody needs something to live for. But be advised, any attempt to leave early, any action hostile to FOX, any attempt to go public or contact anyone from your former life and we will execute the termination order."

"You choose your words so aptly."

"So what's it going to be Sommer?" Silver demanded, leaning over her to tap the butt of the nine-millimetre pistol. "Are you going to take up this gun and become the Perfect Stalker or are you going to sit around and wait for the poison to take effect?"

Ophelia picked up the gun and released the magazine. It was full. She racked the slide and the bullet that had been in the chamber ejected into her paw. It looked like a live round. The primer was intact and she could hear power inside when she shook it. Ophelia reloaded the gun and handed it back to Silver butt first.

"I'll choose my own guns, if you don't mind."

* * * * * * * *

"So you see Kain, that's why I had to leave without seeing you, and why we can't be together." She had finished freeing him while she recounted the meeting with Silver the previous November.

"But you broke the deal by rescuing me." Kain protested. Why didn't you just kill all the wolves and let Gold come and release us?"

"There was no way that Gold could get a team here in time, and no way that I could get them all before someone raised an alarm. They would kill you all first if they thought they were under attack. The only way to lighten the odds is to add to our numbers by rescuing as we go."

"But why did you come at all?" Kain asked as he tied the green cloth around his waist like a sarong. Ophelia reached inside the jacket of her wet suit, unzipped to the waist now inside the warm cavern, and pulled out a photograph sealed in a freezer bag. She held it out, and Kain saw that it was a picture of him. It had been taken just a month ago, to replace the one taken for the files when he joined the Academy as a student. Kain had not realized how much older and careworn he looked in this photo.

"When I saw that you were one of the missing agents I had to try." Ophelia stepped close to him and put a paw on his cheek. "I owe you that much. Even if it is only to die by your side."

"You don't owe me anything. We had one night, less than one night. That was all. Now you've done enough. Give me a gun and get the hell out of here before someone sees you. This is not your fight, Ophelia, let fate take its course."

She stepped back and laughed. "You're starting to sound like Silver now, all 'My next mission may be my last, we may never meet again' doom and gloom bullshit. Cheer the fuck up, will ya?"

"You are living under a death sentence and you want me to cheer up?"

Ophelia shrugged.

"I can't believe that you tried to kill Silver. Nelson yes, but Silver?"

"It's a long story, and if you want to be around to hear it we better get a move on." She studied him closely. "You've aged Kain, but that's not a bad thing. Maybe you'll catch up to me!" With that she handed him one of her automatics. Kain verified that it was loaded and ready.

"A Glock, like Silver's." Kain observed.

"That is a Glock-20 ten-millimetre, with twice the stopping power, if you please." She retorted, with obvious disdain for Silver's old nine-millimetre. "Now let's go back to the security post to get you some clothes and gather a few weapons." She stood by the door, gun up and ready. She was looking good in the skin-tight wet suit and shorts, especially with the jacket unzipped to the waist. Her thick tail peeked over her right shoulder as if it was waiting for Kain's response.

Kain smiled for the first time since she had left his room all those months ago. "Let's do this Cass."

Ophelia immediately turned to open the door and check the corridor, but Kain had seen the flash of a smile when he had used her nickname 'Cass' and he felt hope for the first time since being captured.

* * * * * * * *

Geno kept up the snuffling as she was wheeled up the corridor while she thought desperately of what to do.

"Will you shut up." The wolf that was pushing her demanded.

"What are you going to do with me?"

"I think that we will put you in one of the small rooms further up the corridor. That's where we guards all live. There is a room we use for disciplinary problems. It has a bed and a toilet. We'll have to get you some extra sheets and a mattress cover; you're going to need it."

"Can I get my personal items back?"

"What did you have?"

"My clothes, my piercings and my cross." Geno had noticed that this guard was wearing a small gold crucifix. "I'd really like to have my cross, it comforts me."

"A cross?"

"Yes. My poor mother, may she rest in peace, would never forgive me if I lost Great-Gamma's cross."

The guard did an abrupt about-turn and headed downhill again. He backed into one of the rooms they had passed, pulling Geno's chair in after him. When he turned her around Geno saw that the room was full of storage boxes. The boxes were marked with place names, some in Cyrillic, others in western script. The Wolf shifted a few boxes around until he found he one marked 'Warsaw'. He dumped the contents onto a nearby table. Geno saw a pistol and some knives that must have belonged to Silver.

The Wolf rummaged around in a pile of piercings and other jewellery and came up with a large silver cross on a light chain. He examined them to see if they could be used as a weapon, then shrugged and placed it in his shirt pocket. After returning the rest of the items to the box, he turned her around and pushed her back into the corridor.

Geno knew that she needed to memorize everything, the sights, the sounds the smells, because any bit of information could prove invaluable later. She paid special attention to counting the number of doors that they passed after leaving the storage room. When the wolf finally stopped and opened the only door that she had seen with an outside padlock she was confident that she could find her way back.

The guard wheeled her into the room. Other than the rock walls it looked very much like a typical cheap hotel room. There was a double bed against one wall, but no end tables. A closet of sorts had been carved out of the opposite wall, but it was bare. A smaller room opposite the door appeared to contain only a sink and toilet. The wolf parked Geno by the bed and undid the strap that held her against the back of the chair.

"Can I have my cross now?"

He pulled it out of his pocket and dangled it in front of her face by the chain.

"You are going to have to earn it first." The wolf hung the cross around his own neck. He undid his belt and trousers, pulling them and his shorts down to his knees. Geno stared at his flaccid penis.

"Come on now." The wolf chided her. "You don't want to make me unhappy." The way he said it was more like he was giving good advice than threatening her.

Geno's arms and legs were still restrained, but she could lean forward now that the chest strap had been removed. At least he's clean, she thought, as she bent forwards. She wet her tongue and took a tentative lick along his prick. It twitched in response. Looking up at him through her lashes, she took the tip in her mouth and worked it with her lips. The wolf smiled in satisfaction and put a paw behind her head.

He was starting to stiffen and grow. Geno build up some saliva in her mouth and spread it along his length with her partially opened lips. It slid easier now and she was able to work her head back and forth, twisting her neck to run her tongue along the sides and underneath.

She tried to keep eye contact with the guard, pulling back and sighing occasionally. The wolf was fully erect now, the veins standing out and the skin stretched tight. His right paw was still on her head, encouraging her to take his cock deeper. He had his other paw on one of her breasts and was fondling the nipple with it. His hips began to thrust against her. Geno thought that she better slow this down, before she ended up covered in spooge while still trapped in the chair. She pulled her head off his prick and took one of his balls instead She sucked it into her mouth and rolled it inside, letting the rough side of her tongue pull at the loose skin.

The wolf liked that, and Geno could get a better view of his face from down there. She could also see her cross bumping against his chest as he swayed gently back and forth. She left the ball to lick the underside of his shaft, tickling the sensitive skin just below the head with the tip of her tongue. She took the other ball and gave it the same treatment.

She paused to breathe and smile up at him. She saw that his eyes had gone glassy and his mouth was hanging open. Spending so much time in the company of males the young guard had more experience pawing off than making love, and the prostitutes they visited when on the main island were not half so eager. He was allowing himself to be seduced. It was time to make her move.

"You know, this would go a lot better if I could use my paws." She licked the head of his cock playfully while she waited for his response.

The young wolf looked down at her, indecision on his face. Geno tilted her head and nuzzled his balls, making a show of having difficulty reaching them. Would he take the hint or simply ram his cock down her throat and pump her skull until she choked on cum? Geno let him see her take a long, slow lick from base to head, ending with a flick of her tongue that made his cock bounce. She exhaled warm moist breath onto it and leaned back in the chair.

The wolf reached down and undid the strap on her left paw. Instead of immediately trying to free the other, she slid it up between his legs until it could go no further. She rubbed the inside of his thigh, letting her digits brush delicately at the skin around his tailhole. He shuddered at the sensation, but didn't pull away. Cupping his balls, she kneaded them together. She opened her mouth and took the shaft in it again, sliding and twisting her head back and forth.

He tilted his head back until he was looking straight up at the ceiling of the small room. Her mouth was hot and wet on his cock. Her paw was soft and gentle on his balls. She worked both for a minute, and then stopped to caress his thighs and butt, teasing his tailhole. Then she went back to the shaft and balls for another minute. Each time he felt that he could hold back no longer she stopped. He felt like he could do this forever.

"Free my other paw," she panted, "and I'll show you something that will knock your socks off."

The Russian wolf was not familiar with the expression, but could imagine that something so thrilling to cause spontaneous disrobing must be special indeed. He fumbled with the buckle and she had two paws free. For an instant, he was worried, but then he remembered that her legs were still restrained. If she tried to hurt him, he had only to jump back. She was at his mercy, trapped beneath his rampant maleness. The sense of power made him harder still.

Geno massaged the head of his cock with her lips as she built up a big load of spit. Dipping the digits of one paw into her mouth, she wet them until the saliva was dripping off them. With his shaft still in her mouth and the other paw on his balls, she put the wet paw between his cheeks and pressed the hole below his tail with the tip of one digit. She pushed at it in rhythm with the motion of her head, forcing the hole to spread a little more each time. When her digit was too dry to continue, she released his cock and soaked her paw again.

The wolf could not believe what he was feeling. He had been brought up to believe that this part of him was not to be touched by others, that males who took pleasure there with each other were an aberration. In the army, he had avoided the aggressive gays that preyed on the teen-aged inductees. He even dreaded the annual physical examination, afraid that he might feel something other than pain when the doctor stuck his finger up there. But this was ... was ... thrilling.

The combined sensations of her bobbing head, caressing paw and poking digit was taking him to places that he would not have believed possible. Electric shocks seemed to radiate out of his groin, making his toes and digits curl in time with her motions. He wanted to watch. He wanted to throw his head back and howl. He wanted to grab her head and drive in down hard on his cock. Wait until he told the other guards about her, and he was the first!

She stopped. He looked down to see what he problem was.

"Can I have my cross back now?" She asked sweetly. "It comforts me to feel it between my breasts. It gives me strength to go on." She ran one paw up and down his shaft while she smiled up at him.

"When - we - are - done." He grunted. He was so close, so close.

Geno sighed and rolled her eyes when he wasn't looking. Let's get this over with then, she decided, putting her paws back where they were and taking his full length in her mouth. Immediately, she picked up the pace. Her chin bumped his balls with each plunge, her digit forced his tailhole to spread. She squeezed his balls and felt for the retraction that would signal that he was about to come.

His head was thrown back and his teeth were clenched in an effort not to howl out loud and attract other guards. His arms were stuck straight out at his sides. He legs were spread to give her more room to work. He was lost in the sensations. He felt the first contraction in his balls and tried to hold back, but Geno had other ideas.

Geno drove her head down until she could squeeze the head of his cock with her throat. At the same time, she gripped his balls hard, putting more pressure on them to release. The coup de grace, however, was to pop her digit into his ass up to the first knuckle, just as he tried to bear down and hold the explosion back.

The guards eyes flew open and he gasped "Ah-ha-ha, ha-ha, ha-ha" as the cum came boiling out of him. He was still buried deep in her throat and she swallowed the hot semen as fast as it came. Her digit kept popping in and out of him, lubricated by his own glands now. Her other paw held him against her, her lips sealed against the base of his shaft.

When his cock and balls had stopped jerking, she started moving her head on it again, slowly now, tenderly. She pulled her digit out of him and rubbed around the hole. After a minute of this, she let his cock slip out of her mouth. It was still very hard, and the way she ran her lips along it promised to keep it that way.

"That was nothing," She said, not looking up. "Next time I'll keep you on the edge until you want to scream with pleasure." She continued to caress his shaft with her lips between sentences. "But I believe that I have earned my cross now? Come, don't tease me anymore ... if you want me to keep teasing you, that is." She dropped his cock and sat back in the chair.

The young Russian had made fumbling love once back in Moscow before joining the army, and lain with prostitutes since then. He had even gotten rough with them when they didn't please him. But Geno had shown him the rewards of cooperation, and he lifted the cross over his head to free the chain and he placed it about her neck. It lay between her breasts for an instant, glowing silver against white fur. Geno put her paws on it and held it tight, turning it upside down to kiss it before folding her paws around it.

"Thank you." She said.

The wolf was ready again. Watching her kiss the cross, the expression of hope and salvation that had bloomed on her face when she did, had excited him again. This time he wanted to come all over her. He wanted to see the globs of white spooge dripping off her face and onto the cross. He spread his legs and pressed his hips closer, his cock standing up in front of her face, waiting. She put her paws, still holding the cross, between his legs.

He heard a series of clicks and the sound of metal sliding on metal. He felt a sudden sharp sensation on his thigh where her paws were a moment ago. A liquid warmth was spreading there, but he had not come, had he? He looked down. Instead of white, the fluid that had splashed her fur was bright red. It dripped from her chin and from the short blade that protruded from the base of the silver cross.

The wolf tried to suck enough air in to cry out, but Geno hit him hard in the solar plexus, driving the air out of him as she drove the knife into him. She reached up and wrapped her paw around his snout, preventing any outcry, while she withdrew the blade and plunged it in again, seeking to speed his expiration. She continued to hold him and stab him until his eyes glazed over and his dead weight was too much to hold up.

Geno let the wolf slump to the floor at her feet. She listed for a minute to see if his death had attracted any attention. The pool of blood from his slashed femoral artery was spreading quickly and heading toward the door. Moving quickly now, she bent and released the straps holding her lower legs. She leapt out of the chair and pulled the green cloth off at the same time. She made a dam of it to staunch the growing pool of blood.

She was covered in gore and her feet made tacks of red on the stone floor as she moved back to the chair. She flipped the guard's body over and searched him for weapons. He had nothing but a short club. Geno needed to get back to the storage room and retrieve Silver's guns. She stepped into the bathroom and began to wash the blood off her fur. She didn't want to leave a trail.

She rinsed off the cross also. It had been a gift from her childhood companion, the coyote Coyotka. Coyotka had won it from Sister Rufina, the one nun who had befriended the wild girls at the convent school they attended. Coyotka had won the cross for discovering the secret of the nun's intricate puzzle box, but had given it to Geno years later as a sign of friendship. Geno had discovered the secret of the knife hidden in the cross just in time to save her life, before she came to FOX. The old nun had always said that it was good for protection.

Clean but still naked, Geno kept the blade locked in place and put her ear on the door. Hearing nothing on the other side, she opened the door a crack and peered out. The corridor was empty. Now or never, she thought, and she pulled the door open and stepped out into the hallway. She closed the door and snapped the lock shut, the key was still inside with the wolf, and hopefully that would delay the discovery long enough for her to get to the storage room and find some real weapons, and some clothes.

Geno headed downhill at a trot, counting the doors as she went.

* * * * * * * *

The guard had left Marcel in a large room farther downhill than the room they had all been in together. Unlike the others, this one smelled like sulphur and looked to be a natural cavern, except for a large steel door at the back of the chamber. It was warmer in here than the other rooms also. The heat and smell seemed to be coming from the rear, where the steel door was.

Marcel tried his bonds again, methodically now that he had a chance to calm down. Escape techniques was one of the required subjects at the school, but since Silver had brought him into the Academy by the back door, he had not completed all of that training as yet. The straps were too tight to wiggle out of and too far apart to get a paw on. He needed to find something to cut them with, but the room was bare.

The door leading to the corridor opened and Amber entered. Her pink eyes were trimmed with red, like she had been crying. She closed the door and leaned against it, sniffing back tears and staring at Marcel. He decided to give her one more try.

"Amber?" He asked tentatively. "Can you come over her and free me Amber?"

Amber didn't move from the door or speak. She just shook her head sadly.

"Why not Amber? If you free me, we can get away from this place, away from Timoshenko. He doesn't want us to be together, that's obvious." Marcel let the desperation he was feeling for his comrades show on his face. "Are you forgetting what you meant ... what you mean to me, Amber?"

She was not so far gone to miss his slight slip. "What I meant to you?" Her expression was clouding again. "How come you didn't return my calls Andrew? Why didn't you follow me to Ottawa like you promised?" She was angry now. "I'll tell you what's obvious. That you're taken with that scarlet vixen, that's what's obvious. And who is that whore of a cat? Your bed-buddy while you wait for Miss perfect DNA to fall in love with you? She probably feels the same way I did seeing you cry over the fox, ignoring us both. Has the vixen ever even returned your feelings Andrew? Has she shown you the love that I showed you?" A murderous look came over Amber's face and she took a step closer to Marcel. "Is she carrying your child Andrew?"

Marcel drooped in his chair under the weight of her accusations. Whatever Andrew had or had not done to Amber in the past, she had painted a true picture of his fixation with Vikki. Unconscious memories came flooding back. Geno tapping his jaw to get his attention in the Academy cafeteria because he was staring at Vikki across the room. The look on her face whenever Marcel came home and told her what Vikki had said that day or how she glowed as her pregnancy advanced. How could he have been so callous? Ignoring one who loved him while he mooned over one he could not have, worse, rubbing her face in it almost every day. He felt like a piece shit.

"No. It isn't mine." He answered, without regretting that it wasn't for the first time since he had heard of her pregnancy.

The answer burst Amber's anger, and she fell back against the door again.

"What are you going to do to me?" Marcel asked.

"The Werewolf just said to meet him here." Amber replied.

"What is this room?"

"We call it the lava room. When they started drilling and blasting to build a hotel here they discovered this vent leading down to the main magma chamber of the volcano. They could not seal it off, because that would make the pressure to high and could have caused another eruption, so they redirected it to a room near the dock instead. The stem goes through a turbine there that powers the complex before being dispensed underwater in the docking cavern. Venting it under water keeps the temperature even and removes the sulphur smell."

Amber indicated the steel door at the rear of the room. "That door keeps most of the steam and odours from getting into the corridor. It's the only other way to the valve room, where the steam is controlled, and the dock. The original owners were thinking of turning this room into a sauna, but they went bankrupt before they got that far. Timoshenko likes to use this room because ..." her voice trailed off.

"Why does he like this room?" Marcel insisted.

"Because ... there is nothing ... that can be damaged ... by ... by fire." Amber's voice seemed to come from far away. Her eyes were unfocused and glassy. She had one paw stuck deep in her pocket, fondling something. Marcel gulped and decided to change the subject.

"What's the Werewolf to you?" Marcel enquired. "You just work for him, or what?"

Now it was Amber's turn to look guilty. She dropped her head before answering. "You don't understand Andrew. That last day with you in Newfoundland, what we did, it woke something inside of me. But we were apart and you never called. I ... I had some rough times ... met some bad people ... did some bad things." She looked up, hope showing on her face. "But you are here now. We can forgive each other and get back to where we were, can't we?"

Amber moved closer to Marcel's chair. He scanned her to see if there was anything sharp that he could snatch to cut the straps with should he be left alone again. His eyes came to rest on her left leg, where the unusual pants were longer to cover the scarring. Amber saw where he was looking.

"You came out of the fire without a scratch Andrew, but I'm marked for life." She reached down and undid the zipper at her groin that held the long pant leg attached. She let it slide to the ground, revealing the twisted, raw flesh that went from just above her knee to disappear under her shorts. She spread her arms and stood before him.

"Can you still love me Andrew, with all of my flaws?"

"He is not Andrew you stupid slut."

Amber spun and Marcel's head snapped up at the sound of the powerful voice. Vasyl Timoshenko was standing in the doorway.

He strode into the room and grabbed Amber by the upper arm with his crushing claw, spun her around to face Marcel. "Look at him! Not a mark on him, like you said. How do you explain that Amber?"

"He could have ... maybe the fire ... or the fire department ..."

Timoshenko pushed her head down close to Marcel. Marcel could see the panic in her eyes as she fought to deny reality.

"Look at him. He is not Andrew. Andrew is dead. He died saving your sorry ass. You killed Andrew."

Amber's eyes were squeezed tight and tears were falling from them down on Marcel's face. She shook her head.

"No, he's alive."

"He is dead!" The Werewolf boomed.

"Alive." She whispered, but Timoshenko heard. The wolf spun her around and shook her vigorously as he screamed in her face. "He is Dead! Dead! Dead! Dead!"

"Actually, he's alive."

The Werewolf froze at the sound of the new voice, a female voice. His eyes were wide open and his lip twitched. Amber was agape too, staring around him at the couple that had entered the room silently while the wolf yelled at her. Marcel leaned his head to one side to see also.

Ophelia stood to one side of the door, the large black automatics in her paws pointed at the pair of canines. Her tail waved a cheery hello to Marcel behind her. Kain stood to the other side, wearing the baggy uniform of one of the Werewolf's guards, a revolver in his fist. His eyes were ice behind his rimless glasses.

The Werewolf recovered his senses. "What did you say?"

"Her friend Andrew is still alive." Ophelia repeated. "He lives in St John's, where he works for the Marine Biology Centre at the university."

Amber struggled in the wolf's grip. "Let me go, I have to go to him."

"They are lying." The Werewolf sneered. "She overheard and is trying to drive a wedge between us. Andrew is dead."

Instead of answering, Ophelia reached inside her jacket and produced a freezer bag with several sheets of paper sealed inside it. She held it out toward the husky. Amber lunged and broke free. She grabbed the bag and tore it open.

Ophelia and Kain automatically repositioned themselves to keep the Werewolf covered. Amber read through photocopies of newspaper clippings. Marcel could only make out the headlines from his angle. The first was about a fire. The second about a local fox who had spent years in a coma before waking. Finally, she came to an article entitled 'Local Fox Overcomes Disabilities to Earn Doctorate, Seat at MUN'. The article had a large colour photo, a photo of a horribly disfigured fox in a wheelchair, proudly holding a scroll in what remained of his only paw. Ninety percent of his exposed skin looked like Amber's left thigh.

Amber started to moan, clutching the papers so hard that they were torn in two with a snap. The moan grew to a wail and she stood with her arms out, paws clenched into fists around the remaining pages. Suddenly she threw the papers into the air and they fell in a flurry that momentarily blocked Kain and Ophelia's view. Timoshenko moved instantly, ducking behind Marcel's chair and pulling it back to the steel door. Marcel felt the cold pressure of a gun barrel against his skull.

"Amber, the door." The wolf barked. "You two stay back or I'll paint you with this one's brains." The gun he held had been modified to fit his mechanical claws, Kain saw, much like the one Vikki had used before she got her robotic paw.

Amber was still wailing, but she was too used to obeying the Werewolf to resist his voice. She ran behind him and did something the others could not see to the steel door and it swung open an instant later. She immediately disappeared behind it and it began to swing closed.

Cursing the husky, Timoshenko backed into the doorway to prevent it from closing. He tried to pull Marcel's chair in with him, but it was too awkward to get it in while holding the gun and the door. With a cry of frustration, the Werewolf shoved the chair forward, sending him barrelling toward his rescuers. He saw Kain and Ophelia dive for cover, heard a shot ring out, and felt something pass through his ear. The ricochet pinged off the wall and the roof to splatter against the steel door, which had closed again.

Kain rushed to check Marcel while Ophelia ran to the door. She pulled on it but it was locked tight. She stared at the keypad, but there was no clue as to what the correct code may be. She returned to help Kain free Marcel.

"How's my ear?" Marcel asked

"A clean hole, hardly even bleeding." Kain answered. "Looks like a piercing. Where are the others?"

"Still in the tiled room, I hope. Look, that door leads to the valve room and the dock. They'll be sounding the alarm any second now. If he gets away then this whole thing just starts all over again. You two head down there and get that bastard. I'll go back for the rest."

Kain thought for an instant and then handed the revolver to Marcel, taking an automatic from Ophelia to replace it. "Okay. There are no more of them between here and the dock. You guys cover our ass, keep the rest of the guard force busy, and we'll come back this way once he's dead."

The three moved to the door. Ophelia checked the corridor then moved out to provide cover for the other two. She gave them the thumbs up and they moved out. Kain turned down hill and ran to the curve to take the next position. Marcel paused in front of Ophelia before heading uphill.

"So I guess you're not dead then?"

"No." she smiled.

"Good, glad to have you back, and thanks." Before she could answer, he turned and ran up the corridor out of sight.

Kain was signalling her that the way was clear. She took one step toward him, and then the air was split by a siren's wail. With no need for stealth now she broke into a dead run.

* * * * * * * *

Amber raced down the twisting, natural tunnel, ducking to avoid outcrops of rock. Behind her, she heard the Werewolf curse and a shot ring out. She thought that Timoshenko was shooting at her. If he caught her on the dock, he would kill her. If she ran back up the corridor, the Canadian agents would kill her. She needed a place to hide.

When she reached the valve room, she looked around desperately. The steam turbine occupied the middle of the chamber and Timoshenko was bound to see her if she tried to hide behind it. But there, in the corner where the pipes leading down to the magma chamber were, the light was poor there. If there was enough room behind them, she could blend in with the shadows. She ran to the corner and squeezed in around the hot pipes until she could sit down behind them. She was just in time. The Werewolf appeared a moment later. He looked around quickly, checking for an ambush perhaps, and then ran around the turbine and out of the room.

Amber did not move. Timoshenko might come back this way, or the agents may figure out how to open the door. It was getting uncomfortably warm behind the pipes carrying the live steam up from the volcano. It made amber feel like she was burning up. Her eyes glassed over, but inside her head, she could see the house in Middle Cove in great detail. She could see Andrew running for the window, a fireball chasing him across the living room. She saw him tense to leap through the hole, saw the fireball pass over him, and watched for him to come tumbling out of it into the cooling snow. Andrew did not appear.

Amber remembered that she had screamed his name then and tried to crawl back to the house, but the heat drove her back. Things inside the home started exploding, sending shards of metal and chucks of broken wood flying. By then the neighbours were gathering on the sidewalk and one of them pulled her away, out of range of the burning shrapnel. She fought to get free but her strength was failing. She woke in the hospital the next day with Andrew's mother crying over her.

That had been fourteen years ago, she suddenly realized. Of course the young fox from Brussels was not Andrew. Andrew would be thirty-two by now.

Now that her memory was unlocked, Amber's missing life flashed before her. Carefully trimming the wires in the Ottawa house and placing combustible materials nearby. The Fire marshal declaring that the fire was a combination of pests and poor storage arrangements. The years spent aimlessly, living off the insurance money, hanging out with the rough crowd at the clubs in nearby Hull. The police questioning her when too many people who had pissed her off had 'accidental' fires.

The underworld had finally heard of her and decided to employ her talents. Amber had difficulty at first, she sincerely did not remember doing the things that they claimed she had done, but she played it cool, did not let on. Consciously, she was afraid of fire. She even avoided going out on hot days because the burning sensation of the sun on her fur made her uncomfortable. But she had taken enough chemistry courses before dropping out of school to know what was possible and she decided to give arson a try.

Now she could recall both sides of her life. The fires she set consciously for the mob, ones where she was always well away before ignition, and those that she set while in a fugue state, those that she used her father's lighter to start. The former were usually insurance jobs or extortion and never resulted in loss of life, the unconscious ones almost always did.

At twenty-seven she was contracted to another organization, the Werewolf's organization. Timoshenko wanted to build one of his spas in a choice location in Montreal's old city, but the building there was designated as historic, and could not be altered. He paid the mob to send their best arsonist, to work with his lieutenant in Canada, a timber wolf of Russian descent.

The wolf, whose name was Boris Gubin, was taken with the unusual husky, especially when his background check on her revealed a fortune in unused insurance money and mob payments just sitting in the bank. Boris set about to seduce her, claiming that he was fascinated by her lovely pink eyes, and Amber fell in love.

For a time, her life was just as normal as any other mob arsonist. She cased the location, came up with a plan, and set the fire. She spent her off hours with Boris, listening to his romantic descriptions of her eyes, her lips, her breasts. After the job was done, she split her time between the nation's capital and it's most vibrant city, dividing her time between work and Boris. Disputes that would have ended in a fiery death for someone the year before came, and went with a shrug. In the months since meeting him she had not blacked out once. She was starting to heal.

As Christmas approached, she decided to buy him something nice and expensive, for a surprise. He was always mentioning how little of her money she spent. When the clerk at the store told her that her credit card was maxed out, she was sure that it was a mistake. When she called the company, they confirmed that it had reached its limit, adding that the limit had recently been raised to fifty thousand dollars at her request. She was mystified. They told her that all of the purchases had been made in Montreal on the supplementary card she approved for her common-law mate, Boris Gubin.

Amber thought that she had better check this out. Stopping at the nearest gas station before heading down the highway to Montreal however, her debit card was refused at the pump. She had to go to a branch of her bank to get cash for the trip. At the bank she discovered that her accounts were empty, all of them. The money transferred by a co-signer that she did know she had, Boris Gubin.

Lost for what to do, Amber tried to pawn a diamond broach that Boris had bought her, because it set off her eyes he claimed. The pawnshop clerk offered ten dollars for what he called a clever fake. Returning to her apartment, Amber dug out a box of emergency supplies. It contained cash for fleeing the authorities, as well as a few of her arsonist's tools. She had put her father's Ronson in there just the other day, wondering why she had kept it in the first place.

Amber drove to Montreal without calling Boris. She was certain that he would have an explanation for all this. When she tried to unlock the door of his townhouse in Dorval she had another shock, he had changed the locks.

She sat on the steps of the townhouse and waited until he returned. She waited until almost four a.m. before the Russian wolf was dropped off by a taxi on the street in front of her. Boris had been drinking, something she had never seen him do in their time together. When she confronted him, he told her that he would explain inside.

Once inside Boris had attacked her. He called her a stupid whore who deserved to lose all her money for being so naive. He slapped her when she demanded her money back. He punched her when she begged him to return her funds, and when she tried to leave, he ripped the clothes from her body and raped her brutally. But before he did, he tore one leg off from her jeans and made her pull it up to her crotch over the scared tissue of her left leg, and strap it there so the sight of it 'won't make me puke' he said. When he was done, he forced her to sign the ownership of her car over to him before letting her go.

Amber crawled to a pay phone and called an ambulance. She told the police that she had been raped by a gang of canines that had come out of nowhere. She knew better than to bring the cops in on mob business. The next day, when the doctors declared her fit enough for travel, she took the metro to the bus station and bought a ticket for Ottawa.

Amber went home and called a friend from the mob, a hard feline with little love for males in general, even less for abusive ones. Then Amber got out her box of emergency supplies. The two of them went back to Montreal the next day. Amber got her money back, and more. The fire in the townhouse wiped out the evidence of what they had done to get it. If the Montreal police ever made the connection between the fire and the rape, they never mentioned it to Amber.

Vasyl Timoshenko made the connection. Gubin had pulled this kind of shit before and had been warned not to do so again. The Werewolf couldn't allow just anyone to go bumping off his people, but when he learned more about the pyromaniac husky, he became intrigued. Instead of having her killed, he negotiated with her mob for her contract, bargaining that they would not want to go to war over her killing without authorization anyway. Timoshenko had put her to work for the yellow monkey, keeping an eye on Dourado and disciplining the spa staff as necessary.

Having worked for some very crazy people, in the USSR under Stalin and in Hitler's Germany, Timoshenko could recognize the division within her. He played upon it, seducing her, but only her savage side. When they became lovers, she was as cold and brutal to him as he was with her. The Werewolf enjoyed the challenge. One day, he told her, when she was no longer useful, he would break her complexly. When that day came, she answered, he better hope that he hidden all the matches.

Burning up from the heat of the steam pipes that surrounded her, Amber realized that that day was here. She could never go back to Andrew, not with the weight of so many souls on her conscious. She would not help the Werewolf anymore, but she didn't hold much hope that the agents sent to rescue the foxes would defeat him, even if she helped them. The Werewolf was too experienced and clever for them. There was one way that she could atone, however, and it was right here in the room with her.

Amber stood up awkwardly, blisters that had formed from the scalding heat popped and the moisture soaked her fur. She slid out from behind the pipes, not bothering to avoid contact with them now. She walked over to the big red wheel on the main steam line and started turning it counter-clockwise, closing it. The pressure gauge above the wheel dropped steadily to zero as the valve closed. The one mounted under the joint started to twitch and climb slowly as the pressure built up below. The room cleared. Now that there was no steam the cool air from the dock could enter. She continued to turn until the wheel would move no more, then she took a wrench from the tools hung on the wall and removed it. She rolled the wheel down a deep fissure in the wall, where it would never be found in time to reopen the valve.

When the needle on the gauge entered the red zone a siren began to sound. Amber slumped down to sit with her back to the wall and waited for the lava to come.

* * * * * * * *

In the tiled room where they had been gathered for a time, only Silver and Vikki remained. Silver sat with his head down, his weight on the strap around his chest. Vikki sat up straight, unbowed in defeat, glaring at the guard that watched over them. Made uneasy by her stare, the young wolf made a rude gesture involving one paw and his crotch.

"When I get out of this chair I'm going to pull those off and feed them to you." She assured him in a voice that was more promise than threat. The way his eyes widened momentarily told her that he understood enough English to have gotten the gist of it. He quickly composed himself however, obviously trying to hide the fact that he understood. No doubt assigned to listen in on us in case we tried to plan an escape, she thought.

Vikki looked over at Silver, concerned for him. She had never heard of him giving up like this before.

"Silver. Remember that night in the zodiac? After we rescued you and I almost killed you when I fell on you?" She was hoping for a rueful smile at least, but Silver did not react.

"Silver!" She said more sharply. "Silver, talk to me."

Silver did not raise his head, but he did speak. "When they come to put you in the obstetric chair, don't tense up. It will only make things worse and it's bad for the baby."

What the hell, Vikki wondered, is he talking about? Silver was not one to babble, so there must be some meaning in it. The monkey had mentioned that they would move her into a reclined chair with stirrups, like an obstetric chair. Moving her would involve undoing the restraints on this chair first, but they were bound to have guards covering her. Then they would strap her into the other chair. Why did he say not to tense up?

Vikki remembered their lessons in field communications. Like on mountain climbing teams, you never said what the problem was, you only said what you wanted the other to do. This was in case the wind or bad communications wiped out most of the sentence. If you wanted slack in the line you said 'slack'. If you wanted tension on the rope, you said 'tension'. Silver must what her to tense up, but why.

Then she remembered their escape techniques lessons. Tense muscles are large muscles, hard muscles. Any bonds put on tense muscles would feel loose when you relaxed them, maybe even loose enough to slip out of. Vikki immediately began to breathe heavier and to rhythmically tighten and loosen the muscles in her arms, legs and chest, working one against another. Like a body builder, she wanted to be pumped up when the time to perform came. Now that she knew what he was up to, she could see that he was doing the same, despite his hangdog appearance.

Two more guards appeared with what looked like an antique barber's chair, except for the shiny steel stirrups poking out of it. They wheeled the chair into position beside Vikki, on the far side from Silver. Vikki intensified her muscle contractions, sucking in air to fuel their expansion. She rolled her eyes and shied away from the guards in pretence of panic to cover her actions. She was holding herself so stiff that the guards were able to lift her straight up and over into the other chair.

Vikki allowed them to manoeuvre her into position, but kept her muscles tight. One of the guards held her arms back while the other strapped her feet and legs into the stirrups. When the guard went to tighten the straps on her arms she planted her elbows and tilted her forearms up against the restraints, hoping to gain an extra millimetre or two. Vikki was sweating now, but that was fine. It would provide extra lubrication when the time came to make her move, if it came.

Once she was strapped in one of the guards rolled the empty chair away, but the second guard remained in the room. That could be a problem. She wondered whether Silver had anything particular in mind or if he was just playing this by ear. She would have to watch and listen carefully for his signal.

Miko Dourado entered the room pushing a cart covered by a green surgical cloth.

"Has Amber been here?" He asked the guards. They shook their heads. "Damn her." He swore. "One of you will have to assist me, get between her legs." The two guards looked nervously art each other. "The crank to elevate the chair is down there. Just turn it you idiot."

Dourado uncovered the cart to reveal an array of surgical instruments, syringes and tubes. He fiddled with them while one of the guards tilted Vikki's chair back to a forty-five degree angle. When he was done she was almost prone, facing Silver, with her legs spread wide by the stirrups. She was still covered from shoulders to knees by the green cloth they had brought her in with. Dourado started to daub at her arm with a cotton ball soaked in medicinal alcohol.

"I'll give you something to dull the pain, like I promised." He assured her in a low voice. "Nothing for him though." He glanced over at Silver. "The Werewolf has expressly forbidden it." Dourado reached over and picked up a syringe filled with clear fluid.

Vikki thought desperately. The painkiller would dull her reactions, slow her down, maybe at a crucial moment. It might even put her out. How do I keep him from injecting me? Silver bought her some time by calling to the yellow monkey.

"Is this doing it for you Dourado?"

The monkey looked over his shoulder, the needle poised only a few centimetres from Vikki's arm, and raised his brows in question at the silver fox.

"Is this doing it for you? Is it turning your crank? You know," Silver said with a sneer, "is it making you hard."

"What are you talking about?" The monkey turned to face Silver, the syringe still in his paw.

"Oh, come on Dourado. She told us what you tried to do to her. I can understand though, a freak like you can't get a conscious female, so its alcohol or drugs to knock them out and then they are all yours." The guard she suspected of knowing English snickered.

"It's not like that."

"You don't have to lie to me. I've seen your type in high school. The geek squad. Computer science club and advanced maths. Couldn't get laid if you walked around the red light district naked with hundred dollar bills taped to your prick"

"No." Dourado put the syringe back down on the tray and took a step toward Silver, getting between him and Vikki. "I was respected for my intellect, praised for my achievements."

Just them the sound of a siren pierced the air.

The two guards jumped at the noise. They mumbled to each other in Russian. Dourado looked confused.

"They said that it's the turbine alarm. Something is wrong with the pressure valve." Silver translated for him.

"Well, tell them not to panic." The monkey said, obviously unsettled enough to forget that at least one of the guards understood English. Dourado started the process of preparing Vikki for the injection from the beginning.

The sound of distant gunfire came through the open door. The guards looked at Dourado, then at each other, then at Silver and Vikki, strapped tight in their chairs, and then at each other again. With a nod, they pulled their pistols and left, joining a group who were running down the corridor toward the dock. Another burst of gunfire sounded from that direction.

Dourado put down the syringe and closed the door behind them. He turned and strode back toward the cart to retrieve the needle one more time.

"Why don't you fuck her while she's awake Miko?" Silver called out. "The change will do you good."

The monkey froze between the two foxes and turned to face Silver. Even from behind Vikki could read his anger in his body language. He was totally focused on Silver. So was Vikki.

"Come on Miko, she's free right now if you have the time. You might find her a little loose though, but I suppose all the females feel like that to a little freak like you."

"Don't call me that."

"What? Freak? Isn't that what you are?"

Vikki ignored the rest of the exchange. She had received the message, get free, get loose. She relaxed her arms as much as she could and felt the gap widen between the straps and her fur. Her ploy had gained her some wiggle room, but was it enough? While Silver distracted him with insults and the yellow monkey cursed back at him, she pulled her forearms back through the loops of the straps. When her elbows hit the back of the chair she angled them outwards to pull them back farther, blessing the sweat that lubricated the straps enough to permit her arms to continue to slide. The knob of flesh at the end of her foreshortened left arm slipped out of the cuff easily, but her right paw refused to come free. The cuff was not stiff enough, it bunched up at her wrist, making the hole smaller. She needed to hold it in place while she carefully rotated the paw through it. She signalled Silver to keep it going while she tried to steady the strap with her stump.

Silver spat at the floor in front of the monkey and jerked his chair. Despite the wheels being locked, he managed to move it forward a few centimetres. Dourado took a half step back toward Vikki, but he didn't look worried. He could move much faster than Silver could move the chair.

"You should have been killed at birth, you monstrosity." Silver shouted, and he jerked his chair forward again.

Vikki forced herself to remain calm. She laid the stump of her left arm alongside the cuff to prevent it from buckling and slowly twisted her right arm one way and the other while she pulled back a millimetre at a time. She didn't even dare watch her progress for fear that she would panic and pull too hard.

"Look at you." It was Dourado's turn to sneer. "All of you strength and skill and you are anchored to that chair, helpless."

"I'm not dead yet." Another shift of the body, another few centimetres closer.

Vikki felt the widest part of her paw pass the centre point of the cuff. It hung there for a moment, and she stopped, breathed deeply, and began the slow twisting motion again. A second later she felt air around her paw again. She kept it down on the armrest, and nodded to Silver.

With a scream that would have made his highland ancestors proud, Silver lunged. Wrenching forward and pushing up on the floor with his toes at the same time he managed to bring the heavy chair clear off the floor. It arced through the air, gravity bringing it immediately back to earth on top of Silver, but the sudden move had the desired effect. The yellow monkey had taken a step back, right between Vikki's legs. Dourado only realized his mistake when her left arm came up under his then across his chest and he was pulled back against her. Before he could react, her other arm was about his neck and her mouth was at his ear.

"Say goodbye tailhole." She repeated. Placing her paw on her opposite shoulder with his neck in her elbow she drove her right arm up by punching it with her stump. Silver could hear the crack clearly from his position on the floor.

"Good Girl. Now would you mind ... getting this chair ... off me ... before I suffocate."

Vikki let the dead monkey slide to the floor between her legs. She found the buckle on her chest strap and undid it. Bending forward with difficulty, she freed her legs. Stepping down gingerly so not to slip on the monkey she went down on her knees and crawled the few feet over to Silver. Rather than try to lift the chair upright Vikki pushed it over on its side and started to undo Silver's bonds. After his bumpy ride in the trash compactor and days spent tied up the trick with the chair had taken a lot out of him. He lay on his side for a moment to catch his breath with Vikki knelling beside him.

"My hero." He gasped between breaths. Vikki helped him to sit up and kissed him.

"You found me." She said when she was done.

"Did you ever have any doubt that I would?"

"Not if you wanted to live." She grabbed his chin and glared into his eyes menacingly. "If you aren't beside me at the birth I am going to kill you myself."

"I don't know what help you expect me to be." Silver complained as he struggled to stand up.

"The father isn't there to help, he's there to be blamed and abused." Vikki stood and supported Silver. "How are you doing?"

"A couple more seconds." Silver had his breathing under control now and the colour was returning to his face. A noise behind them made them both spin about. The door was swinging open. Silver tensed to leap, Vikki crouched to dive behind the heavy chair. A strange apparition stepped into the room.

It looked like a guard in drag. It was wearing a baggy print dress over a loose guard's jumpsuit that was unzipped to reveal a pink tube top. Holsters weighted down with revolvers hung from straps that criss-crossed the ensemble. The get-up may have been clownish, but the jet-black automatic clutched in the creature's paw was all business.

It took both of them a moment to recognize Geno. For Silver, it was the large silver cross that gave it away. For Vikki, it was the amount of cleavage she managed to show.

After surveying the room, Geno closed the door behind her and began to drop knives, guns and holsters to the floor. She stopped when she sensed the other two staring at her. Looking down at herself, she realized that it was the way she was dressed that intrigued them.

"I, uh, thought that you might appreciate some clothes, but I couldn't find a backpack to put them in so I put them all on." She said as she peeled the dress off over her head and held it out to Vikki. "I found this in a box marked 'Humphrey's plane'. I think that it belongs to Okra. You might find it a bit short, but it should fit over that belly."

Vikki grabbed the dress and flipped the collar over to check the label. Her eyes went wide and se thrust it toward Geno.

"Oh, my God! Did you see where this is from?"

"Yes! That's how I knew it must be hers."

Vikki held the dress against her, gauging the fit. "The tail hole is in the wrong place, but maybe I can have it altered for a summer dress; after the birth of course."

"Oh," Geno injected, "can I have the spare material for a wrap?"

"Ladies, please." Silver interrupted.

"Sorry." Vikki dropped the green cloth and pulled the dress on. It had been designed as a full-length ball gown for the diminutive talk-show host. Fortunately for Vikki it was made when the muskrat was high end of one of her weight swings. Vikki adjusted her swollen breasts in the cups and spread the skirt over her protruding belly. The back of the dress hung on her tail, but it would do.

While she adjusted the dress Geno stepped out of the grey jumpsuit and handed it to Silver. "I didn't get you guys any shoes." She informed him. "I didn't know your size and I would not have been able to carry them and leave my paws free for shooting at the same time anyways."

"That's okay." Silver replied as he zipped the suit up. "You did the right thing." He started digging through the pile of weapons Geno had brought. "Hey, my Glock!" He held it up with a smile.

"As you can see I found plenty of guns and knives but no spare ammo. That could be a problem because I saw about thirty guards heading down the corridor toward the gunfire. That jumpsuit came from a straggler." Silver fingered a splatter stain on the collar and his digit came away red. "I tried to keep it clean but he was still leaking a bit. Oh, I found this in the same box as your gun." Geno held her paw out to Silver. Dangling from a thin leather thong that was tied about its base was a single nine-millimetre bullet. The casing and the projectile both appeared to be made out of silver.

"Thanks." He took it and hung it around his neck.

Vikki stepped over to Silver and took the bullet in her paw. "I thought that you lost this in the Arctic?"

"I guess that the Werewolf thought to keep it as a souvenir." Silver replied, wrapping his paw around hers.

"You guys ready to go or would you like some privacy?"

They looked over at Geno. She was wearing only the neon-pink tube top and a pair of Amber's black shorts. The straps of two shoulder holsters crossed between her breasts, accentuating them. Another pair of holsters sat on her hips. She held a revolver out to Vikki.

"Only one pistol for me, Laura Croft?" Vikki sniped.

"They didn't have a dress small enough for me." Geno retorted.

"Or a tube top big enough."

"Cut it out you two." Silver chided. "It's time to go."

Silver led the way into the hallway. He motioned for Vikki to take the opposite side and for Geno to watch the rear. Once he was in a new position, he waved Vikki forward. When she had moved up beside him he moved forward again. They continued down the corridor that way, caterpillar fashion. Geno stayed in the rear, covering their asses.

A few turns down the tunnel, they heard more gunfire. It was coming from somewhere very close. Silver slid along the wall until he could see where it was coming from then returned to Vikki's position.

"There are three guards down, probably dead, and four guards deployed around one of the doors on the left. They are shooting at someone inside, probably one or more of ours. Once they get up enough nerve they'll charge, and that will be it for whoever it is. We need to get them before they do. Here's the plan."

They took up their new positions. Silver exchanged guns with Geno, giving her his Glock to holster and taking one of the guard's revolvers she had found in the storeroom. Silver nodded to them and ran down the corridor, shouting "Captain, Captain" in Russian as he went.

He was counting on his silver-grey fur, the guard's jumpsuit and his calling for the Captain to distract them long enough for him to get in range. The ploy worked. Silver shot two of them dead as they turned to stare at him. A third tried to bring his gun around but dropped it when Silver's bullet went through his shoulder. That guard dropped out of sight between the bodies of the other two. The fourth made the mistake of taking cover in the same doorway that they had been trying to enter, and was felled by a bullet that came from inside the room.

Silver called out the Academy codeword to tell whoever was inside to hold their fire. He didn't want to be mistaken for a guard by them also. He slid along the floor, past the fallen guards, and twisted to face back the way he had come. The wounded guard was still obscured by the bodies of his comrades, but he turned to follow Silver and tried to track the moving target, as expected. While he was distracted Vikki ran silently up behind him, a pistol extended in her right arm, holding her wobbling belly with the left. From her vantage point above, she shot him in the back of the head.

Silver kept watch while Geno followed along behind Vikki, checking the bodies for signs of life and collecting ammunition for the revolvers. The small leaf-bladed knife she held in her paw was streaked with red. One of the guards was now as dead as he had been pretending to be. Silver called into the room.

"All clear out here, how is it in there."

"Just ducky." Marcel's weak voice came drifting back.

"Marcel!" Geno exclaimed. She rushed into the room.

Marcel was slumped against the wall in one corner of the bare room, a paw clutching at a red stain on the left side of his abdomen. Another dead wolf was sprawled on the floor halfway between him and the door. He had dropped his revolver to the floor with the cylinder open, the shot that had taken out the fourth guard had been his last. He smiled weakly up at Geno as she dropped to her knees in front of him.

"I've come to rescue you." He told her.

Geno looked over her shoulder at the doorway where Vikki was covering the corridor. "You came back to save her." She said resignedly.

"No." He insisted. "I came back for you." He put his free paw on her cheek. "I would have rescued them also, of course, but I had to find you and tell you something."

"No need." Geno pulled his other paw away and examined him. "Marcel, you've been shot!"

"I noticed."

Silver, who had gone ahead to check the next section of corridor came into the room and dropped down beside Marcel also. He examined the hole and rolled Marcel gently over to check the exit wound.

"Are you okay Geno? Did they hurt you?" Marcel asked.

"Just the usual hot pokers and nipple clamps, damn but those things pinch. Other than the sore tits I'm fine." She stroked his head while Silver cut up the green cloth Marcel had worn to make bandages.

"You don't like nipple clamps? I'll have to exchange the ones I bought for your birthday. Ouch."

"Sorry, but I have to make this as tight as possible." Silver apologized. "You're lucky the bullet went right through. It may have chipped a rib but it doesn't smell like it punctured the intestine. I think you'll be okay. How did you escape?"

Marcel told them how Kain and Ophelia had interrupted the Werewolf's plans for fox flambé. Vikki gasped when she heard that Ophelia had turned up, but Silver said nothing. Geno had never met her and wondered what the fuss was all about. When Silver was done binding his wounds she looked up at the senior agent.

"Can we move him?" Geno asked Silver.

"If you support him he should be able to walk. You two hang back and keep covering our rear. Did you find any ammunition?"

She had. Geno reloaded the revolvers after handing Silver's Glock back. Silver stripped the jumpsuit of one of the smaller wolves and helped Marcel climb into it. After rolling up the cuffs and the legs, it was a reasonable fit. Geno handed him back his pistol and helped him to stand up.

"You want to shoot left or right pawed honey?" She asked him.

"Right, if you don't mind. Using the left arm pulls on the wound."

Geno got under his left arm and walked him to the door. There he paused to greet Vikki.

"Hey Vikki."

"Hey Marcel. How are you doing?" She couldn't help noticing the smug look of triumph on Geno's face as she held Marcel against her.

"Good, all things considered. How you hold'n up?"

Keeping her pistol pointed down the corridor in her good paw, Vikki patter her belly with her stump. "So far so good."

The sound or renewed gunfire came from down the corridor.

"Okay gang." Silver said, taking up his position in the hallway. "Let's move out."

* * * * * * * *

Ophelia and Kain were pinned down. The Werewolf held the dock. Hidden behind the same crates that Ophelia had stashed her scuba gear in, he could cover the open space where the corridor met the wharf. To step onto the dock would be suicide. Behind them, squeezing them in, was a large group of wolves that was getting steadily bolder. Kain was sure that they had killed at least five of them, but their numbers were overwhelming, and with each sacrifice they had moved closer. Soon they would charge and that would be the end for them. They still had plenty of ammunition for the automatics, but they could only fire so fast, and the wall of lead the wolves could put up would take them out in the first salvo. Ophelia considered making a flying leap for the water and trying to swim out of the cavern but it was too shallow and clear, it would be like shooting fish in a barrel.

They heard the sound of distant gunfire and looked at each other. There had been firing earlier but it had stopped. Obviously, someone was still alive back there, until now anyway. Was it Marcel fighting his way up to rescue the others or more wolves coming to reinforce this group? They couldn't tell. The group of wolves just beyond the turn in the corridor had gone ominously silent.

"Looks like this is it kid" Ophelia smiled ruefully, shaking her head. "This will be my second death in less than a year." Her tail mimicked her head movements behind her.

Kain sighed. "To think I survived that explosion just to die like this. Strangely enough, I don't feel all that bad about it, now that you're here."

Ophelia gave him a quick kiss and then they both checked the loads on their pistols. A number of shuffling bodies could be heard just out of sight.

"Any second now."

They felt something new, a trembling in the wall behind them. Kain looked at Ophelia, puzzled.

"Did they manage to get into the tunnel behind these rooms you think? Maybe they're going to blast the wall behind us?"

A stronger tremor brought an excited babble from the hidden wolves.

"I'm no linguist, but it doesn't sound like it's part of their plan." She answered.

Suddenly, the rock itself began to shake, and they were knocked to the floor. A section of the wall between them and the dock exploded into the corridor, releasing a gust of steam. They could feel its heat. From up the corridor came the sound of another eruption, and several wolves came running around the corner in a panic. Kain and Ophelia shot them before they realized their mistake.

Screams and a hail of bullets followed, but the shots were wild, un-aimed. The fox and leopard clung to the bucking floor as more wolves escaped the cloud of steam uphill. Shooting under these conditions was difficult but by aiming for the middle of their bulky forms, they managed to bring them all down. The lights in the ceiling began to flicker, then went dim, but Kain could still see. A red glow was coming from behind them. Looking over his shoulder quickly, he saw that the steam had been replaced by a narrow river of molten lava. Looking forward again he saw a second stream coming down the corridor toward them. Soon the two would meet and fill the corridor. The tremors had ceased after the lava had begun to flow.

"We have to get out of here." He said.

The dock is our only choice." She answered, standing cautiously. She changed magazines, putting a full one into her Glock, and Kain did the same. "We'll jump together. When you hit the dock roll right and go against the wall, that will cut his angle off and he'll have to expose himself to get you."

"Where are you going to be?"

"I'm going for the water up against the dock. If he steps out to shot down at me, you'll have your chance. Make it a good one lover, or no more pussy for you." She laughed and crouched, ready to run.

"Why couldn't I have fallen for a driving instructor or an oral hygienist or something?" Kain mumbled to himself as he joined her.

"One, two, three ... go!" They ran to the lava's edge and leaped into the fog.

At first, everything was grey, then it became clear as they entered the docking cavern. Two shots rang out as they left the mist, but Kain didn't feel anything. He landed in a roll and flipped to his right as she had asked, coming up hard against the wall. Behind him, he heard the splash as Ophelia entered the water. Ignoring the pain, he slid along toward the crates that hid the Werewolf, keeping his pistol aimed at the point where he was likely to appear.

Silence. Was Ophelia still under the water, he wondered, how long can she hold her breath? There was a movement above him, a shadow on the wall. He shifted his aim slightly. One of the Werewolf's claws came into view, the modified pistol clutched in its grasp. Timoshenko was coming over the crates against the wall, faster than Kain could have imagined. He strained to get his pistol up and fired.

There was a spurt of blood and a clang of metal. There was a splash. The wolf cursed and dropped back behind the crates. Kain felt something heavy strike his head and bounce off. He looked down and saw the metal claw lying beside him. The pistol was gone from it, probably in the water now. He picked up the claw and threw it to the other end of the dock.

Why hadn't Ophelia surfaced to finish the Werewolf off? Still dizzy from the blow, he was torn between checking on her and going after the wolf. He started to crawl around the crates, moving closer to the edge of the dock. Perhaps, he thought, I can do both.

He heard the Werewolf grunt with effort before he saw the topmost crate tumbling down on him. He tried to roll away, and was spared the worst of the collision when the corner of the crate struck the rock just where he had been a moment before, but the heavy box rolled onto him before he could get farther away. The impact knocked the glasses from his head and the gun from his paw, sending it spinning into the water. He was trapped, pinned to the ground.

He heard another sound now, the Werewolf chuckling as he approached his helpless form, but he ignored it. His eyes were fixed on the blurry image of Ophelia floating face down in the water and the red stain that was slowly spreading around her.

* * * * * * * *

They heard the explosions and the firing just a few turns ahead of them, felt the heat from some fire below. Despite the urge to rush, Silver signalled for extra caution. Geno and Marcel moved up closer to bring more firepower to bear forward if required. A moment later, the ground shook again and they could hear horrible screaming up ahead. A group of wolves, some of them with their fur aflame, came running up the corridor toward them. With each FOX agent shooting into their pre-designated zones the wolves were dispatched in seconds.

Silver stepped over several of the bodies and around one of the still burning ones to look down the corridor. When he came back, he was shaking his head.

"Nothing but a bunch of burning wolves and a lake of lava up ahead." He informed them. "It's getting bigger, but that is not the worst news. The hot fumes are going to rise up this spiral corridor, pushing all of the oxygen down here to fuel the fires. Eventually the air is going to be too poisonous to breathe. Did any of you see any vents or other exits?"

"There's a tunnel that leads to someplace called the valve room and then to the docks from the room I was kept in, but it's sealed." Marcel told him. "Here, I'll show you." He pointed up the corridor behind them. Geno helped him to the door and they entered the large natural chamber. Silver closed the door to keep the heat and the fumes out. He went to examine the steel door.

There is fresh air coming in underneath this door." He said. "So the path to the docks is still clear. Now all we have to do is figure out how to open it." They looked at the keypad. It was the same as on a standard phone, with the digits zero to nine, a pound sign and an asterisk. "We need some powder." Silver said

They began searching the room. There was nothing powdery. Geno left the room and returned a minute later with a piece of the drywall compound cut from one of the finished rooms. Silver nodded approval, peeled the heavy paper off and crumbled a piece between his paws. With his palm was full, he gently blew the dust toward the keypad. When it was evenly covered, he blew on the pad harder to clear most of the loose dust away. There was white powder sticking to the skin oils left behind on six of the number keys and both of the symbol keys.

"Damn," he swore, "too many possibilities. You didn't see how many numbers she entered did you Marcel?"

"No. Timoshenko was blocking me."

Silver tried some standard combinations, the ones usually used where security practices were lax. Four corners, cross shape, two-five-eight-zero. His digits flew over the keypad.

"Uh, Silver. We have a problem." Vikki directed his attention to the hallway door. The bottom edge was smoking, and a red glow filled the gap between it and the floor. They could no longer flee up the corridor to look for other exits. Silver turned back to the steel door and redoubled his efforts.

By the time the other door was fully in flames, he had entered almost a hundred combinations, to no avail. The others stood silently behind him, unable to offer any advice or alternatives. The heat, the effort and the frustration were making Silver sweat, and he vented his aggravation on the unmoving door by pounding on it and shouting.

"Open up God damn you! Open up now!" To his surprise, just as he finished, the locking mechanism made a loud click and the door swung open. The sweet fresh sea air from the docking cavern washed over them and they sucked it in like it was nectar.

Amber stood in the open door way, silhouetted by the emergency lights, the wrench she had used to remove the valve wheel in her paw. She stepped to one side and held the door open for them.

"Timoshenko is on the dock, with a couple of your friends. He can't come back this way because I changed the combination after he went through. There's been shooting. You better hurry."

Silver looked deep into her strange pink eyes. Whatever he saw there satisfied him that she was no longer a threat. "Thank you." He said and entered the tunnel, guiding Vikki by the arm. Marcel and Geno followed. After they entered, Marcel looked back to see Amber still standing there, holding the door, looking forlornly at the retreating agents.

"Amber!" He called to her. "Close the door and come with us."

"I can't." She said, looking down. "I've done so many bad things."

"You can make up for them. You've already started by helping us." Marcel pulled away from Geno and took a step back toward the door. "Help us some more and we'll take care of things. I promise." He held out his paw to her.

"No." Amber shook her head sadly. Behind her, Marcel could see the pool of lava filling the room. "I've done too much to too many. It's too late for me." She looked up at Marcel. "Goodbye Anthony, or Marcel, whatever you're called. If you can, find Andrew and tell him that I loved him to the end, and that I'm sorry." Amber stepped back and let the door swing shut."

"Amber. No!" Marcel lurched for the door but he was too slow, it clanged shut before he could stop it. He felt for the handle to open it and drag her back in. The handle was gone. Looking around in the dim light, he saw it on the floor. Amber had removed it with the wrench and thrown away the bolt. The door could no longer be opened from this side.

Marcel pounded on the door calling her name until Geno pulled him away. Silently, they followed Silver and Vikki down the rough tunnel. If Geno noticed that he was crying she kept it to herself.

* * * * * * * *

Inside the natural cavern, Amber leaned back against the steel door. The pounding and shouting had ended a minute ago and now the only sound was that of the fire as it consumed the chair the little black fox had been confined in. Over half of the room was filled with lava now and the heat was becoming unbearable. Only the cool air coming under the steel door kept her conscious.

A figure moved in the mist out in the corridor. Amber watched with bleary eyes as it entered the room through the burning doorway and crossed to her. The lava did not seem to bother the newcomer, nor did his passage disturb the surface of the lava. As the figure drew closer, Amber could make out the black fur and pointed snout of Andrew, miraculously whole again. He crossed the last of the lava and stood in front of her.

"Eh, me ducky. Ya ready to get on the go?"

"I knew that you would come for me Andrew."

"I'se be a chucklehead if'n I didn't" Andrew held an arm out for Amber to take and turned back toward the expanding pool of lava. When he spoke again, it was without the Bayman's accent.

"It will be some time still, but we will be together again."

"I understand Andrew. I'm sorry for how this all turned out."

Alone in the room, except for her memories, Amber walked forward into the lava.

* * * * * * * *

Geno and Marcel caught up to Silver and Vikki as they passed through the valve room. Silver quickly went over the plan of attack.

"Marcel you take rear guard until I call all clear. Vikki and Geno cover the doorway. I'll go through first and provide cover for Geno, who'll pass me and check out the corridor junction. Then Vikki moves up to join her. From that point, we'll play it by ear."

They took their positions and Silver eased the door to the dock open until it rested flat against the wall. There was a hook there to hold it open, probably installed to make carrying the electrical equipment inside easier. Once everyone was ready, Silver rolled out onto the dock and came up in a crouch, his Glock held firmly in both paws. A quick glance told him that they may be too late.

Close by the door he had just exited he saw the crushing claw that the Werewolf had worn lying on the ground. The end of one strap had been torn off with some force. On the opposite end of the dock there was a pile of crates, some of them had fallen over. The immobile body of Kain Algorath was sticking out from under one of them. Beside him lay the body of Ophelia Sommer, in a small pool of bloody water. The water nearby was also red, and disturbed, as if she had been just pulled from it a moment ago. Finally, through the entrance to the cavern, he could see a boat on the horizon, heading this way. The Werewolf must have radioed for a ride and reinforcements.

Silver fought the urge to rush to the two fallen comrades, and called Geno forward. Geno slid past him and peeked around the corner into the corridor.

"It's full of lava." She reported. "He didn't go this way."

Vikki came out next. When she saw the brutal prosthetic device she picked it up and tucked it under her left arm. Maybe it held some tricks they could build into her new one when they got back, she thought. She moved past the junction and took a position where she could cover the crates. Silver called Marcel to cover the door from this side and he moved forward to join Vikki.

"I'm going to see what's behind those crates. He told them. Vikki and Geno cover me."

Knowing that it was the last available hiding place, and fully expecting to be shot when he rounded the corner, Silver went over the top instead. He ran to the crates and sprang, turning and twisting in mid air to bring his head down and his body forward as he cleared the crates, his gun pointing straight down to where the Werewolf must be. But there was no one there. Completing the rotation, he landed lightly on his feet facing the crates from the other side. He swept them with the Glock, looking for a hiding place the large wolf could have crawled into.

"He's not here." He called to the others. He heard them moving closer. "Stay back, this could be ..."

Before he could finish, there was an eruption of water behind him. He twisted around as fast as he could, caught a glimpse of a creature with large bug eyes and a humped back rising up like a kraken from the depths. Before he could fire, the gun was knocked from his paw, sent flying back over the crates. A metal missile closed on his face, and Silver saw no more.

* * * * * * * *

On the other side of the crates, Vikki had checked Ophelia's vital signs and found that she was still alive. She saw Kain making feeble movements and motioned Geno forward to help her lever the crate off of him. They had just finished doing so when Silver called out for them to stay back. Vikki heard the water splash and wondered if Silver had dived in, then she saw his gun come flying over the crates. It stuck the dock hard, shattering the base of the magazine and scattering bullets. Vikki leapt up with the revolver in her paw, ready to charge, when she heard the voice she knew only too well.

"Everybody freeze," Timoshenko called out, "if you want this fox to live.

The Werewolf edged around the corner of the crates, using Silver as a shield. His cutting claw was open and Silver's neck was pinched between the blades. He held Silver up with his other arm. He still had Ophelia's scuba goggles and tank on.

"Drop the guns and knives into the water, now!" He shook Silver's limp form to emphasize the threat. Vikki complied. Behind her, she heard the splashes as Geno followed suit. Marcel's pistol joined theirs a moment later.

"Unload the Glock and push those bullets into the water also. Leave the gun on the dock. I intend to keep it as a souvenir." The Werewolf relaxed as the last of their firepower was neutralized. He shrugged off the scuba gear, came out from behind the crates and stood over the prone body of Algorath.

"So, the last of the FOX agents in my power at last. It is about time, after all of the trouble you have caused me."

"Yeah, sorry to have fucked up another of your plans." Marcel mocked him from where he sat slumped against the doorway.

"Oh, you think so? You have destroyed a base, nothing more. My plan will go ahead, despite your pitiful interference." As he talked Geno edged closer, her paw on the cross that hung about her neck. "Stop where you are." The Werewolf ordered her, squeezing Silver between the cutting blades. The blades bit into Silver's neck, drawing blood and severing the cord that held the silver bullet. It dropped to land silently on the back of Algorath. "I've seen that kind of device before. Take the cross off and throw it in the water. Good. Now go sit beside that other fox and strap your wrists to each other's with these." The Werewolf tossed over two nylon binding straps that he had found with Ophelia's other gear.

While his attention was focused on Geno, Vikki put her arms behind her where she sat against the wall, as if to support herself. Straining to keep balanced, she reached for the crushing claw and slipped it over her own stump. The fit was bit loose, but that was okay, as it allowed her to thread the damaged strap into the buckle. She tightened it as much as she could and waited for an opportunity to present itself.

Timoshenko took another step forward after Geno and Marcel were locked together. He had to take his claw off of Silver to manoeuvre him around the unconscious cloud leopard. Vikki made her move. She came off the floor like a rocket, leading with the crushing claw, aiming for the Werewolf's neck.

Timoshenko was too fast for her. He dropped Silver like a sack of potatoes and brought his other arm up in front to catch the claw before it could close on his neck. Vikki let the claw close around the blades of the other prosthetic, at least he would no be able to cut her while they fought.

Locked claw to claw they threw punches and blocked with their other arms. Vikki had the advantage of having one real paw for grabbing and twisting, but the Werewolf had weight and strength on his side. As they twisted and turned around in their deadly dance Vikki could see Geno and Marcel trying to chew through the straps to come to her assistance. She tried to grab the wolf's balls, missed. Timoshenko drove his stump directly into her stomach, and she felt the baby move in response. Instinctively she tried to back away, her arm about her belly to protect her unborn child. When she did Timoshenko pulled hard against her, and the claw came off her left arm.

Vikki wasn't done yet. She knew a thing or two about prosthetics now. As quick as lightning, she reached up and flipped a gear on the crushing claw. A cable came off a wheel, a spring flew free. The device that allowed the claw to open and close was disabled. The crushing claw was locked around the cutting claw until someone with digits came along to fix it. Pain rippled through her abdomen, and Vikki slid to the floor clutching her belly.

With a roar of anger, the Werewolf tore the other claw off and tossed them both into the water. He stood in front of her, teeth clenched, his arms with their blunt stumps held in front of his massive chest, which rose and fell as he breathed deeply in his rage. Looking around he saw that Vikki was hobbled by pain, and that the cat and the fox had stopped chewing their bonds. He fell to his knees beside the body of Silver and stuck his forearms under him. He picked the fox up with a grunt of effort and held him up for Vikki to see. Silver's head hung down against his own chest, exposing the head of the Werewolf behind.

"Watch now, as I end this once and for all." The Werewolf put the ends of his arms behind Silver's head, increased the tension in his arms until the muscles stood out like mountains. "First him, then you, then the rest." Timoshenko threw his head back and raised his arms for the final snap.

* * * * * * * *

Kain had never fully lost consciousness. Trapped under the crate, he felt the Werewolf pass. Even without his glasses, he could see enough to watch as Timoshenko dragged Ophelia out of the water. He could not tell if she was alive or dead. He lost sight of the wolf when Timoshenko went back behind the crates, but he could hear him moving about back there.

When the others had arrived he wanted to call out to them, warn them that the Werewolf was up to something, but he could not pull enough air into his lungs. When Vikki and Geno rolled the crate off him, he could breathe again, painfully, but deeply. He thought that that was it, they would all be okay, but then the Werewolf was back.

He kept quiet while Timoshenko threatened, gathering his strength, hoping that the Werewolf had overlooked him. He felt something land on his back, it made his skin twitch where it lay. He turned his head during the fight and saw Silver's Glock, just slightly fuzzy at this range. Its slide was locked back, the chamber was empty, and it was just a few centimetres away from his right paw. Maybe if he hit the Werewolf with it he could incapacitate him long enough to find a better weapon. His back still twitched in irritation and he reached over with his left paw to brush whatever it was away just as Timoshenko threw the two sets of claws into the water.

Something about the feel of the object on his back made him hesitate. His digits closed about it, felt its shape and its contours. A bullet, but what calibre? He brought his paw around but without his glasses he could not read the writing on its base. It had a silver coloured head and casing, unusual. He inched his other paw forward until Silver's gun was in his hand. Lifting it, he brought the gun to the bullet and slid the round into the chamber. A perfect fit. Kain eased the slide closed. The Glock had no hammer, but the slight protuberance Kain could feel on the back of the slide told him that it was indeed cocked and ready to fire.

In front of him Timoshenko was on his knees, holding Silver clutched to his chest. "Watch as I end this once and for all." The Wolf told Vikki. "First him, then you then the rest." The Werewolf threw his head back as his shoulder and back muscles tensed for the final snap.

Not trusting his vision even at this short distance, Kain rolled onto his back behind the wolf. He put the muzzle of the Glock against the back of the Werewolf's head and pulled the trigger. A spray of red obscured the last of his vision. The heavy body of the Werewolf landed on him, cutting of his air again. Kain blacked out as much from the stress as from the lack of oxygen.

* * * * * * * *

Vikki had not seen Kain load the Glock, but she saw him roll and fire. She saw the front of the Werewolf's head come off and watched as his body fell back onto Algorath. Fighting back the pain in her belly, she crawled over to where Silver still lay in Timoshenko's arms. She pulled him up and against her chest, hugged him tight. She could feel his heart beating against her chest. The relief seemed to diminish her pain.

Silver was trying to say something. Vikki put her ear by his head to listen.

"The boat." He rasped, struggling to get the word out. "The boat. Don't let the boat get away."

Vikki looked up at the cavern entrance. The boat was still some distance off. They couldn't see want was happening inside the gloomy cavern, and they would be blinded momentarily when they came from the bright sunlight into the dark cave. With a sigh, she lay Silver down beside the dead body of the werewolf. She pulled Algorath out from under to allow him to breathe easier. She slipped into the water and began searching for the guns and a knife to free Geno and Marcel with. She would need them both to take the boat.

* * * * * * * *

"Agghhh!" Vikki screamed full force, clutching her belly as another wave of pain filled her. "Oh my God, I'm dying, dying!"

"Oh come on, it can't be that bad."

"This is all your fault you silvery freak!" Vikki said from the birthing chair the obstetrician had left her in. "You only had one good shot left in you and you had to aim it at me."

Silver stood beside her in a long pale-green hospital gown. His feet were covered by slippers made of the same material with elastics at the ankles. Most of head, including his ears, was covered by a loose cap of the same stuff. He thought that he looked ridiculous. He checked the clock and noted that the contractions were coming a lot closer together now.

"Okay just breathe for me Vikki, just like in class." 'Woofa-woofa-woofa-woofa' he demonstrated. "No pushing, just breathing."

"I know what to do you stupid idiot! Who do you think is giving birth here?" She snarled. "And put that damn camera away!"

"But I thought you said ..."

Vikki's good arm shot out and grabbed Silver's balls. "I SAID LOSE THE DAMN CAMERA."

"Okay, okay. Look! No more camera. Happy?"

The pain started to recede and Vikki slumped back in exhaustion, releasing Silver. He moved around to the other side of the chair where she didn't have digits to grip with. Dr Jones would not allow her to wear her prosthetic in the birthing room the Academy had built for the occasion.

"Get the doctor." She said wearily. "I want those drugs now."

"But honey, you insisted that you wanted to do this without ..."

"Get me DRUGS! Get them! Now!"

Silver ran for the door.

"Where the hell do you think you are going?" Her voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Uhm, to get drugs?"

"Use the push bell, stupid. You're not getting out of here until I'm done. Where's the camera? You're supposed to be recording this."

* * * * * * * *

Several hours later Silver emerged from the birthing room to find Marcel and Geno waiting in the hallway. Marcel's abdominal wound had healed nicely in the month since they had taken the boat and escaped the island. He had put a stylish plug in the bullet hole in his ear. He stood with his arm about Geno, his paw resting idly on her hip. She had one paw stuck in the back pocket of his jeans, and her head rested on his shoulder. They stood like that a lot since returning.

"How is she doing?" He asked Silver.

"Resting now. It was pretty tough for a while there."

"I wasn't worried. If you had seen her attacking the boat full of wolves, that ball gown flowing about her as she swung aboard like some pirate in drag. I swear they gave up from sheer shock at the sight."

"How is the baby Silver?" Geno asked.

"Seven pounds and a bit. All the right number of digits in the right places. He's got red fur like Vikki and my blue eyes, bluer even."

"All babies have blue eyes at first Silver. Didn't you know that? Have you picked a name?"

"Leslie Sterling Beausoleil" Silver said unenthusiastically. "Vikki picked it."

Geno did not pursue the subject. "Can we, you know, peek in on them?"

"Sure, just see the nurse first. Listen, I have a few things to do ..."

"Sure. We'll see you later." Marcel led Geno down the hall. Before going five steps he turned back to Silver. "Sorry about Ophelia. It was a shame, her coming back from special assignment and saving us, only to die from an infected wound."

"Yeah." Silver replied. "That's life, or what passes for it around here." He turned away from them indifferently, but Marcel could read the fatigue and sadness in his pose as he walked away.

Silver turned down a short hall before entering the main lobby. Once out of sight of the two junior agents he straightened up, dropping the pretence of weariness. At the end of the hall, there was a security door with a small guard station that was normally empty. Today it was manned. Silver showed his pass and the guard allowed him to enter his code into the keypad. A quick thumb print scan and he was inside.

He was trapped between two doors with no handles on his side. One wall was bulletproof glass. There was a guard station on the other side. A guard inside verified his identification before opening the next door. Now he was in the high security wing of the Academy's medical centre.

There were only a few rooms here. He entered the first to find Kain Algorath and Ophelia Sommer wrapped around each other in a passionate embrace.

"Ahem."

The two quickly disengaged, rearranging clothing and looking everywhere but at Silver. Once they had settled, Silver addressed them.

"Glad to see that you are feeling better Sommer."

She touched the area where the last traces of the surgery to remove the Werewolf's bullet were healing. "How is the clean-up operation going?" She asked him.

"Well. Without the Werewolf to follow, the leaders that they have already altered are reverting back to their normal selves. Police agencies in various countries have rounded up the spa employees and most will be charged with other crimes rather than reveal the conspiracy. Okra Humphrey's is spending a lot of money trying to locate the yellow monkey, but the eruption Amber started filled the installation with lava, so she'll never know what he was really doing. There remains only one loose end." Silver's eyes went dark, like the carbon steel used in some gun barrels.

"You broke the rules Sommer. You were never supposed to come back. You were never to have contact with anyone other than myself or Gold."

"Oh, come on. She saved us!" Kain started to protest, but Silver cut him off with a gesture, never taking his eyes from Sommer's ice-purple irises.

"Three of the five of us had already gotten free without her help."

"You said that you would kill me if you ever saw me again." Ophelia said, staring back into his grey-blue orbs, trying to read what was going on behind them.

"Yes I did, but for saving the other two-fifths of our team and helping to stop the Werewolf I'll make this one exception. You are back on Stalker duty however, under the same conditions as before." He turned to Kain. "She leaves in an hour. Time for one last goodbye, and remember," he pointed to the omni-directional lens in the ceiling, "you are being monitored, so don't try arranging a rendezvous for later." Silver went to the door, where he paused and turned back to them.

He was thinking about what they had learned about the husky, Amber. What they had found out from the background checks and what her rambling one-sided conversations with Marcel had revealed. They had decided against contacting Andrew, the news of Amber's death, however they sugarcoated it, would do him no good now. He looked at Algorath and Sommer, sitting there looking back at him apprehensively.

"Take what time you can now." He advised them. "Its more than some people get."

* * * * * * * *

Kain left reluctantly and resignedly an hour later. Silver had explained the way it had to be to him while Ophelia was still recovering from the surgery. Total deniability meant no contact with FOX personnel whatsoever, including him.

There was the faint hope that she would survive the twenty-five year probation and be pardoned. He would be almost fifty then, and she would be past that. Could they wait for each other that long? Would the love last? Would the passion.

Passion, now there was something he never imagined feeling, passion. But it had been there, especially during the last hour. They had not spoken, afraid that the monitors would think that they were passing information and cut them off early. They had been like wild creatures, ignoring the camera in the ceiling, biting and scratching and crying out in abandon. Knowing that he would never see her again had given him strength and endurance.

It had also given him immunity from pain, but that was wearing off now. She had used her claws at the end, digging deep furrows in his skin. Kain went to his rooms to treat them with some disinfectant before heading back to the Academy.

He peeled off his shirt and looked at the scratches. They were all over his chest, little lines of red beaded with blood. He could not see to treat them very well from this angle, so he moved over to the mirrored closet door. With a cloth soaked in disinfectant in one paw, and another to dry himself with afterwards, he looked at his reflection ... and froze.

The reflected scratches, seen upside right now, formed a series of numbers and dashes. Kain, used to dialling up servers in remote areas in his early hacker days, recognized it as a phone number in Switzerland. A small heart was carved below it, with an arrow through it. He looked around his room nervously, wondering if he was being monitored here too. He memorized the number. As quick as he could he rubbed the blood away and dried his chest, fluffing up the fur to hide the last traces.

He would wait a month he decided, and then go away for a weekend to acquire an untraceable phone. With his technical expertise, he could ensure that their communications would never be intercepted, but how would they meet? They would have to work that out, and there would always be the risk of being found out, and paying for it with their lives.

The thought of leading a double life, keeping things hidden from the very people who were the best at finding things out, sent a chill up Kain's spine. It was the thrill he had been looking for when he joined the Academy. Life, he told himself, or what passed for it around here, was about to become very interesting.

* * * * * * * *

Several weeks later, Lao Huidan returned from Tilia Life to find a steaming cup of Dragon's Well Tea sitting beside his chair. He sipped at it, appreciating the thoughtfulness and the exquisite timing of his newest servant. It was hot and sweet, just the way he liked it.

He had replaced all of his staff after the incident with the Perfect Stalker. The day of the anal automatics, he thought of it, or rectal revolvers in some cases. The guard with the Uzi sub-machine gun had gotten the worst of it. After that, nobody wanted to carry anything bigger than a derringer, just in case there was a repeat performance.

He had started by replacing all of his security personnel. Then he had changed the household staff. He was determined to rotate the two groups regularly, so that personal relationships that could affect his security did not form. The latest assistant was a keeper though. She was attentive, thoughtful, punctual and seemed to know what he wanted before he did himself. The cloud leopard was not bad looking either, once you got used to those strange purple eyes.

Lao sipped at the tea she had left him and wondered what she would be like in bed. He was still fantasizing when a sensation came over him, like ants inside him, trying to get out.

Epilogue - 25 years later

The rain stopped and the clouds began to break apart, allowing the moon to shine through. Now the only sound was the soft crunch of gravel under the tires of the departing sedan. The moon illuminated the three gravestones with the carved images of the cloud leopards and the three bundles of yellow roses that Silver had laid by them.

From the small copse of trees at the top of the hill, two figures emerged. They walked down the hill to sand in the same spot that Silver had stood for an hour in the rain. They looked down on the graves and the flowers that the old fox had put there.

"The flowers show up every year on the anniversary of my father's death." Ophelia commented. "A dozen roses each. Yellow, for friendship."

"But he has never come himself before." Kain noted. "They always came by courier."

"Yes. I was beginning to believe that he would never visit. Good thing we were hiding from the rain under the trees when he arrived. I'd hate to think what he would do if he caught us together just before the twenty five years was up."

"Do you realize that it is our anniversary also?" Kain asked her. "This is the same date as that night that you and I had together before you left for the Arctic."

Kain looked to where Silver's rental car was waiting at the traffic light to turn onto the road that would take him back to the interstate. Out of habit he double-checked to make sure that they were not standing in the light and that they had not silhouetted themselves.

"Do you think that he ever found out about us Cass?" He asked Ophelia, using the name she liked that only he knew now.

"No. He would not have permitted it. I hear that he really gave the senior agents a hard time when he was Chief of Staff."

"It was tough, but it was worth it. Hell, he only had me, Marcel, Geno and Vikki as senior agents in those days. Now we have almost twenty senior agents and over a hundred juniors. Marcel operates the school like a Swiss watch, but some of the stunts Geno pulls as Senior Agent, well, she keeps us hopping in the Ops Centre. Vikki's been great at holding it all together as Chief of Staff. Silver is hardly around now that he's the Director, like Withersby and Williams before him. I guess it comes with the job."

"What name is he using?" She wondered.

"Around the Academy everybody still calls him Silver, or Sir. But I saw an article in the newspaper, they announced the Order of Canada recipients last year when he got his. By tracking down and eliminating all the other names I was left with one that must be his, wait until you hear it." He told her the name, and Ophelia almost fell over laughing.

"No wonder Vikki decided to keep her maiden name." Ophelia chuckled. Half the fun on these rare visits with Kain was the stories he told of the people she once knew at the Academy. "Ah, well. We should go before it gets too late. She turned to face Kain and ran a digit down the side of his head and under his chin. "I have a few plans for you before you fly home tomorrow."

Kain smiled. He was head of the Academy Operations Centre now, but he still went to the field occasionally and he had kept himself in good condition. He had to, to keep up with her. Although she was in her fifties now, she could still knock the socks off a passing male at twenty paces, and she had not slowed down any in the sack either.

"Sure. Let's go." He replied. He offered her an arm to lead her down the slippery slope.

"Wait a sec. I want to smell my flowers." Ophelia bent and retrieved the bouquet. She put her face into them and breathed in their heavy scent. "Hey! There's something in here."

Ophelia unwrapped the flowers and let the roses fall to the ground. Wrapped inside was a plastic freezer bag, with some papers sealed inside it, protecting them from the rain earlier. She unsealed the bag and pulled the papers out, reading them by the bright moonlight.

"It's a pardon. In the name of Ophelia Cassidy Sommer, deceased 2008. Great. I'm a free feline but I'm dead!"

"What do the others say?" Kain strained to see over her shoulder, but his glasses had misted up in the damp night air.

"This one is a marriage certificate." She said, puzzled. "And here's a driver's licence, a health card, credit cards, passport. Oh my God, Kain! These all have the name Cassidy Algorath and my picture on them!" She looked up, an astonished expression on her face, the first time Kain had seen it there. "The address on all of these is the same as yours! It appears that we're married. There's even a FOX Academy ID card here. We're coworkers too." She handed him the bundle.

"Uhm, your sure he doesn't know about us?"

"There's another one here, handwritten. It says 'Happy anniversary. See you in Ottawa soon. Tell Kain to see me in my office first thing when he gets back tomorrow to go over the budget projections. Keep safe, Silver'. That bastard knew all along!"

Kain stood there shaking his head. "That explains it."

"Explains what?"

"Just before I left on this 'business trip' he called me into his office and told me that he was bringing in a specialist to help with some of the field craft training in the school, the undercover work specifically. He said that since I was rattling around in that big house in Kanata all alone he wondered if I'd mind sponsoring the new talent and put them up until other arrangements could be made. I know the Academy's pretty crowded these days but it struck me as strange. Especially the last part."

"What was that?"

"I told him 'Sure, I'm not a hard guy to get along with' and he said that I'd better learn to be if I wanted my guest to stay." He chuckled. "Him and his bad sexual puns. He must have known that I'd leave the Academy to be with you when you were pardoned. Now we can have the best of both worlds. That is," He looked at her and held up the marriage certificate, "if you want to. Do you Cass?"

It was her turn to shake her head. "Still the same old manipulative bastard that he always was. Of course I want to, how could I say no?" She pulled him against her and they kissed long and hard in the moonlight.

"There is one thing that bothers me about this whole thing though." She said as they made their way down the hill. "I have not been seen outside the Stalker's villa except in disguise for over twenty years. How the hell did he get pictures of me for those documents?

The End.

Kain Algorath © Marcus X Light

Ophelia Cassidy Sommer © Devil Kitty

Joel the Lemur © Joel the Lemur

Amber © Commander Eagle

Geno © Coyotek

The rest of the FOX Academy gang are © Dikran_O