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FOX Academy Flashbacks

Scarlet Necklace

Part II - Graduation

Summer 1982

Auvert's affair with Scarlet ran hot the remainder of his training. The study time that he lost because of it was more than made up for by the expert tutoring that he received between sessions in bed, on the couch, in the Mustang and once on the poll table in the senior agent's lounge. The lack of sleep was not a problem, Auvert typically got by on four hours a night. The sex relieved his tensions just as effectively as a nap.

A week before the course was due to graduate Auvert and Scarlet were lying together in her bed. It was a warm night in late June and the windows were open to let in some air. They were naked on top of the covers, letting the sweat of their last tryst evaporate while they gathered their strength for the next round. It was at times like this that they would discuss field craft and Scarlet would impart her personal tricks of the trade.

"Soldiers like to have their picture taken, and there's always a few hanging around any big national monument." She told him once. "Ask them to take your picture with your camera then suggest that they join you in a photo. Offer to mail them a copy and get their names, unit, address and trade. Whatever trade they are, tell them that's what you were in the army. They'll be more comfortable and willing to talk about their equipment, their commanders, lots of stuff you normally couldn't ask about. That doesn't work so well with bureaucrats. To get them talking you have to feign ignorance of whatever it is they do. Bureaucrats love to lecture, it makes them feel important."

With only a week to go there was not much left to cover, in class or bed. The final confirmation exercise had ended that day. The remainder of the time until graduation would be filled with administrivia, turning in training material, cleaning out the classroom, sitting through inconsequential lectures on ethics and harassment policy. Scarlet knew that Auvert had been taken aside and informed that he was the top student. The only thing that could prevent that now was if he got compromised, if he got jailed or if he took a shit on the hood of the Director's Rolls Royce. She congratulated him on his achievement.

"It almost didn't happen." Auvert informed her.

"How so?"

"On the second day of the exercise I came in early and found a classified document on my desk, instead of in the safe where I had put it the night before. If the duty officer had done his rounds earlier, I would have been hit with a breach of security on my file. Not enough to get me kicked out at this point but bad enough to lower my rating down below a couple of other students." He didn't need to explain the futility of trying to blame someone else. His document, his desk, his fault.

Scarlet could read nothing in his expression. "Do you think that it was done deliberately?" She asked.

"Yes. Kevin came in just after I did and saw me with it. He mentioned that he had seen Carpenter headed over to the school before breakfast. I checked the electronic log and, sure enough, Carpenter's code had been used to access the building for about thirty minutes earlier that morning."

She didn't bother to ask how he had managed to get access to the restricted logs, it was what he was trained to do. "Why didn't you report him?"

"It wasn't proof that it was him. The student codes are too generic and sequential. We all know what each other's codes are. Even if he was in earlier, it doesn't prove that he did it. He can claim that if I didn't leave it out then one of the other students may have done it and forgotten about it."

"Not likely." She sneered. "When I was a police officer we used to narrow down the list of suspects by examining their motives, opportunity and capability."

"Everyone was capable, from students to staff. The staff had no motive though, if one of them didn't like me they could have made my life miserable and lowered my rating without setting me up. As for opportunity, I saw Vick and Max both in the dorm at the time the school was accessed. That leaves Carpenter and Kevin. Kevin has nothing to gain by me being knocked down because Carpenter is ahead of him already. Carpenter however, has been openly competitive and aggressive about getting first to ensure a field posting. He has the most to gain."

"If you had been caught the Chief Instructor may have used the same logic and the circumstantial evidence to conclude that Carpenter had tried to set you up. Even if he was forced to leave the breach on your record he could have put one on Carpenter also for not securing the classroom before he left."

"And neither of us would have been top student." Auvert pondered that possibility silently.

"So you are just going to forget it?"

"It's enough for now that I know who's responsible. One day I'll settle this particular account."

The way he spoke, calmly and without bravado, convinced her that he would indeed deal with it, in his own time and on his terms. She rolled over so that she was leaning against him, one breast on his chest, her leg bent and resting on his thigh. She traced furrows in his chest fur with her claws.

"For a guy you have nice nipples." She leaded her head down and sealed her lips on the nearest one. She rolled her head as she sucked it into her mouth, the tip of her tongue flicking the hardening nipple inside. One paw went up to tickle his ears. The other paw started to drift south across his abs. The wandering paw found his penis lying limp along his thigh. She pointed it back up toward them and squeezed it. She was rewarded with a pulse of life from within. Scarlet stroked the stiffening rod, sliding the loose skin up and down over the harder core. She continued to stoke his cock while she sucked on his nipples in turn. After a few moments, his cock was so hard that the skin was stretched tight. She had to loosen her grip to allow her paw to slide. She extended her reach to include his balls and the tops of his thighs in her caress.

Auvert had been rubbing her back with one paw. He lifted it a bit so that just the tips of his claws and the edges of the pads made contact. He drew them up along her spine until she shuddered. Moving down, he sought out the sensitive areas under her arms and breasts, on her hips and on just above her tail. Whenever he found one he ran his digits across it, as light as a whisper, long enough to make her tremble. Then he moved on to another spot, he didn't want to linger too long and start her laughing. He traced the muscles on her buttocks, felt them clench in response. He followed the line where abdomen met thigh, and she lifted her leg, allowing his paw to continue.

Auvert's paw found her mound already damp and swollen. He cupped it along the slit and pressed his digits down individually in a sequence reminiscent of the piano exercises he had taken when he was but a kit. The fleshy flower opened beneath his paw and seemed to suck his middle digit into it. He left digits to each side of the opening and squeezed them together to trap the third inside. It explored her, massaged her and drew the moisture from her tissues until it was immersed in warm fluids.

Starlet was having trouble getting enough air and had to release his nipple. She laid her head on his chest and alternated between rubbing his shaft and caressing his balls. She had his cock pointed straight up when the pre-cum leaked out and down, lubricating the taut skin. It was time. She let go of his prick and it lowered to a forty-five degree angle, where it stayed, twitching in mid-air. Scarlet gently pulled Auvert's probing paw from between her legs and rolled over on top of him.

Her breasts were flattened against his chest and she locked her mouth to his. She slid her arms under his so her paws were against the backs of his shoulders. Her hips rolled, grinding her clit against his abdomen, just centimetres from his waiting cock.

She did not make him wait long. She reached behind with one paw and lowered his prick until it was parallel to his flat stomach. Wiggling backwards, she brought herself close enough to hold it down under her vagina. She returned her arm to his shoulder and held the kiss for a moment longer. Breaking the kiss, she slid further back, rotating her hips as she went, caressing his cock with the open lips of her cunt. She mingled their juices and spread them along his shaft. She raised her ass in the air and caught the tip of his cock in the opening to her cavern. With a sign she lowered herself onto it, taking it all in, not stopping until her clit came up against the base.

She tucked her head down and pulled on his shoulders to slide against his chest, until she had just the tip of his cock still inside her. Then she pushed on her elbows to glide back again, engulfing his prick one more. Slowly she repeated this, relishing in the feel of his cock moving inside her and her clit rubbing against him. Even the fur of his chest was exiting her tender nipples.

Auvert did not move, content to let Scarlet set the pace for now. He concentrated on holding himself back. He continued to trace her contours with his claws, drifting from shoulder to ass to thigh and back. He felt her skin twitch under the fur when he used just the right combination of speed and pressure. Soon she was moaning with pleasure.

Scarlet kept on sliding against him for several minutes. It was good for her, but now it was time to bring things up a notch. She sat up, bringing her feet up beside his hips. Putting her paws on his taut abdomen, she raised herself up so that just the tip was left inside and then lowered again until she could go no further. Up and down she went. The new position made the end of Auvert's cock rub harder against the sweet spot inside her. Every third of fourth stoke she switched to short, rapid rotations to tease the sensitive patch.

The position was visually stimulating for Auvert. Looking down along his torso he could see himself entering and leaving her. He marvelled at how her inner sheath pulled out as she raised up, sealing itself around his prick, only to disappear inside on the down stroke. Her clitoris stood out, bright pink and hard. The tips of her inner lips stuck out too, forming a little heart just below her clit, matching the decorative one dyed in her fur just above. Auvert stuck a thumb in his mouth, rolled his tongue to lubricate it. He reached out and spread his digits across her belly, placing the wet thumb on the exposed clitoris. He made small circles with it, pressing harder when she cocked her hips forward to meet him. A little more spit, a little more pressure, another moan was drawn from Scarlet.

His hips were starting to rise to meet her as she was on the way down. The impact drove his thumb harder against her. He wanted to bury himself as deep as he could inside her, but her weight on his belly kept him from moving as he wanted to now. He raised himself up onto his elbows and bent his legs to each side. He caught her eye and grinned.

"Ready?" He asked.

"Ready." She gasped.

The next time she came down on him Auvert snapped his torso up and his legs back. With nothing under her butt anymore, and only his prick inside her to hold onto, Scarlet started to fall backwards. Auvert caught her under her arms and used her momentum to complete his spin. By the time her back came to rest on the bed he was kneeling between her legs. Her butt was on his thighs and his cock was still trapped inside her. Auvert did not stop there though. He let his legs slide back, keeping his arms stiff, until he was stretched out in the push-up position above her. With all his weight on his paws, the only point of contact with Scarlet was their conjoined genitalia.

He began to move, excruciatingly slowly at first. He flexed his ass and rotated his hips to slide his shaft into her until his balls came up against her tailhole. Then he pulled it out again, equally slow. He leaned forward so that her clit was treated to the full length of his cock on its way in. He pulled back at a lower angle so the tip dragged across the tender patch inside. He breathed slowly, through his snout, his teeth locked together in concentration as the pressure inside him grew.

Each stroke was a little harder than the one before, each a little faster. Soon his balls were bouncing off her ass and she was grunting from the impact that crushed her clit between their pelvises. Auvert was sweating from the effort to hold on as much as from the physical aspect of his position. Scarlet was panting also, feeling the red-hot sensation that meant she was building to a climax. She had her knees up and her legs spread wide so that all of the sensation was concentrated at the point of contact.

Auvert came first. When he could hold himself back no longer, he drove his cock deep inside her and ground his pelvis into her. He cried out as the burning semen shot out of him and his back arched like a bow. Scarlet felt the steamy splash inside her and followed him an instant later. Their hot juices mingled and flowed around them. Her hips rose off the mattress, lifting him up as well. For an instant, they froze like that, acrobats caught at the climax of their act.

The tension left them bit by bit and they collapsed slowly. Auvert lay full-length along her, holding some of his weight on his elbows to keep from smothering her. Their mouths had found each other and he brushed the fur from her face with the back of his paw. Spent yet relaxed, everyday sensations began to creep in again.

"I need to get up." Scarlet told him after a while. "My tail is caught under me and fells like it's about to break." Auvert dutifully rolled over onto his back, pulling out of her with a soft sigh.

The radio station they were listening to had switched to an entertainment news show while they had been otherwise engaged. Scarlet got up and went to her bureau, where a small but expensive stereo and a few dozen record albums sat. She selected one of the vinyl records and put it on the turntable. A moment later, the room was filled with a strong, rough female voice, singing in French. Auvert, who was a fan of Janis Joplin, was taken by the raw edge to the singer's voice, even if he could not understand the words.

"Who is that?" He asked.

"Edith Piaf." She replied. "This song is called 'La Vie En Rose'. It's a simple love song that became very popular. There's an English version that she recorded. I have Louis Armstrong's interpretation of it if you want to hear it later." She returned to the bed and they lay listening, silently, until the song had ended and the next one began. Scarlet lay on her side and looked at him, her head propped up on one paw.

"I'm going to miss you." She said.

"Miss me?"

"I'm going to be staying in Ottawa for a while and you are going to a field posting. Even if I was going back out there the academy would not let us work together, not while we are involved like this." She reached over and tweaked one of his nipples to emphasize. "You could end up in Europe or Asia. Both Green and Yellow need new junior agents. As senior student you will have a say in the matter."

"So Carpenter gets a field posting regardless?" He asked her. Scarlet knew the answer but stayed silent. He shrugged and changed the subject. "Europe or Asia, which would you recommend?"

She looked up in thought. "Asia was fun while Mao was in charge and the Vietnam War was on, but it's a backwater now. With Regan and Brezhnev at each other's throats Europe is the place to be. The cold war has never been hotter, it's a good place to make your reputation. Besides, I think that you will like working for Green." Scarlet did not tell him that she had already recommended him to the experienced, boisterous Irish fox. Green was the only senior agent capable of handling the hard-drinking and mischievous Auvert, in her opinion.

"What's wrong with Yellow?" Auvert asked.

"Nothing wrong per se. He's a bit arrogant, but then so are we all. When you are a senior agent, you need to really believe that you are better than the next guy. Otherwise, you may let doubt slow your reaction down just enough to get killed. So, anyone who doesn't believe that they are the top gun gets proved correct. It's a self-fulfilling belief kind of thing. Yellow is very intelligent and knowledgeable, and he likes to demonstrate his superiority in those areas regularly. Knowing you, you'll take it as a challenge and try to outdo him. It will escalade to the point where it will become distracting and dangerous. Besides, you'd have to learn Chinese, and that's worse than studying dialectic materialism.

Auvert didn't respond. He lay there weighing his options. While he did, the unoccupied half of his brain took over his lips and he started whistling to the tune of 'La Vie En Rose'.

* * * * * * * *

One week later found Auvert and his former fellow students in the lounge celebrating their graduation. The ceremony, restricted to serving and retired members of FOX, was subdued. One by one they were called forward to a table set up near the bar to shake hands with the Director and to pick up their certificates. Since even the existence of the Foreign Operations eXecutive was classified however, their certificates were immediately taken back to locked away. After short speeches from the Director, the Chief of Staff and a befuddled retired General who called them all 'good soldiers', the bar was opened for the real festivities.

After the initial round of drinks, each student was taken aside in order of placement to receive their new assignment. As expected, Auvert was told that he would be leaving for Germany within the week to report to Green. After signing his course report, his five-year probation contract and several waivers, he returned to the lounge to accept the congratulations of the staff, and the free drinks that went with it. He leaned against the bar wondering how many drinks to have before calling Scarlet. She had dutifully attended the graduation ceremony but had left immediately after congratulating all of the students. She had told Auvert that he could either come over to her rooms after a few drinks or he could go out on the town with the boys. She would be waiting for his call either way, to take him to bed or to put him to bed, depending on what kind of shape he was in. Auvert had decided that if the whole group, including Carpenter, wanted to go out then he would go with them. Otherwise, he would have three drinks and then go see Scarlet.

He had just finished the first of his three drinks when Kevin came back from receiving his assignment. His face was blank as he came straight to Auvert and took one of the bottles of beer left for the top student. Kevin leaned against the wall beside him and drained half of it in one sip.

"So, what's the plan for tonight?" Auvert asked him.

"Vick is heading out tonight to go visit his mother. Max wants to go to the peeler bar. Carpenter is off sulking and I'm thinking of driving up to North Bay to see my kit."

Auvert knew that Kevin had been divorced, but this was the first mention of a child. He decided not to go down that path.

"Why is Carpenter sulking?" He asked instead. "I expected him to put on a big show of being the good loser and all that. It's not the end of the world coming in second, especially since he still gets a field posting."

"Carpenter's not pissed at you for beating him. He's pissed at me for getting his field posting. I report to Yellow in Hong Kong next week."

"Now, that is news." Auvert tapped bottles with his stocky colleague. "Congratulations Kevin, and drive careful, there's lots of cops between here and North Bay."

* * * * * * * *

An hour later Auvert used the code and the key that Scarlet had given him to enter her residence. He found her sitting at the small dining table. On the table were two lit candles, a cold bottle of white wine, a cribbage board and a deck of cards.

"The game is strip cribbage." She informed him. "One article of clothing for every game lost, two for a skunk. A pair of socks or shoes counts as one item. Jewellery doesn't count, neither do belts, garters etcetera. First one naked loses and the winner gets to pick the activities for the rest of the night. Ready?"

"Ready." He sat opposite her and they cut the cards to see who dealt first.

Two and a half hours later, a new bottle of wine stood on the table, the candles had burnt out, and Auvert was wearing nothing but his boxer shorts. Scarlet had just pegged out, winning yet again.

"Ha! Peel 'em off honey." She gloated. "You are my slave for the rest of the night."

Double or nothing on a cut of the deck?" Auvert offered with an innocence that was bound to be false. Scarlet looked at him suspiciously.

"I just beat you four games straight, skunking you twice. Why should I risk that on a fifty-fifty chance?"

"Guilt compels you. You cheated."

"Was it that obvious?"

"Yes. You're better than Kevin and our lady beaver friend, if that is any consolation. That's what I assume this set up is all about, isn't it? Our card games at the cottage? You want to know why I let the others cheat?"

As he spoke, Auvert took the deck of cards and shuffled it. He flipped over the top card. It was the ace of spades. He shuffled and cut the deck one-third down, revealing the ace of spades. He replaced the cards on the pack and cut the deck again, two-thirds down this time. It was the ace of spades once more. He took the ace of spades out of the deck and placed it face up, alone in the centre of the table.

"Our lady friend was old and lonely. She had once been a powerful politician. Winning meant a lot to her, so she cheated for fulfilment. She would have stopped if we threatened to quit playing, but at the nickel and dime stakes we played for it was inconsequential to us. Kevin cheated to make it more competitive."

He reached over and flipped the ace face down. He turned the card back up and now I was the two of hearts. He reversed it, revealed it again, and it was the jack of clubs. One more series and it was the ace of spades again. He leaned back and indicated that Scarlet should examine the card.

She picked it up and rubbed it between her digits to make sure that it was only one card. Then she tore it in two and placed the pieces to one side, out of Auvert's reach. She shuffled the remainder of the cards by spreading them around the table and mixing them together by rotating her arms in contrasting circles. This type of shuffle was the one used in casinos, to ensure that no slight-of-paw was involved. She reassembled the deck and put it on the table between them.

"Cut."

Auvert let his digits run along the edge of the deck, feeling the cards. He removed a dozen from the top of the pack and placed them to one side, leaving them face down.

Scarlet took half of the cards that were left. She glanced at the bottom card and then turned them over, showing Auvert the king of diamonds. She smiled triumphantly.

Auvert flipped over his stack of cards. The card showing was the ace of spades.

Scarlet showed surprise for the first time in many years. She picked up the two pieces of the card that she had torn earlier. It was an ace of spades also. She turned the pieces around to examine the back, something she had not done previously. It was a different brand than her cards. She picked up the one Auvert had just turned over. It was one of hers.

Okay," she said shaking her head, "I'm impressed. So why didn't you cheat also?"

"It was more challenging trying to win without cheating. Cheating just to win an inconsequential game shows a character defect."

"Are you saying that I'm flawed?"

"No. You cheated to provoke a reaction and to learn something."

"You cheated on the cut. What does that say about you?"

"I prefer to think of it as using superior card manipulation skills. I also only resorted to it at a critical moment, winning the services, did I hear the word slavery used earlier, of a quite acceptable looking and talented vixen. I would not call that 'inconsequential', would you?"

"Bastard. Okay, unfair is fair in this case. You win." Scarlet stood and came around the table. She knelt between his knees and put one paw on his thigh, the other on the lump in his boxers. "What can I do for you first ... master?"

Auvert brought one of his feet up and wiggled his digits in front of her snout. It was clean, but it had seen some hard use in the past. There were calluses on the pads and the claws were cracked and bent, badly in need of trimming. "Let's start with a pedicure. I believe that I saw all of the necessary implements in the bathroom?"

"You can fu ... find me more cooperative in other areas." Scarlet said with a forced grin.

"Don't worry." Auvert smiled down on her. "After we're done I'll show you some rope tricks"

"R-r-a-a-w-w-r"

An hour later, with claws looking like new and feet still tingling from having the calluses abraded, Auvert was cheated out of his night of dominance when Scarlet's little pager went off. He fell asleep waiting, and did not see her again until several years had passed.

* * * * * * * *

December 1985

Auvert slogged down the snowy street where the consulting firm that fronted for FOX operations in Europe was located. While they had liaison officers in many of the Canadian embassies around the continent, it was assumed that their identities were known and so the real covert work was handled by a senior agent and his team undercover. At the moment, the senior agent for Europe was Green, a large gregarious red fox of Irish descent with sparkling green eyes. He had established an office near the castle in Heidelberg, near enough to the Canadian base in Lhar, SHAPE Headquarters in Stuttgart and the German Intelligence service in Ahrweilier to drop in whenever necessary, but far enough from them and other known allied centres for anonymity. His team usually consisted of himself and up to three junior agents, but cold-war casualties had been high lately, and Auvert was the only junior member left.

Heidelberg was a wonderful city to be in at Christmastime, at any time for that matter, but when the inner-city was covered with a layer of freshly fallen snow and the Heidelberger Schloss filled most of your field of view it was easy to imagine oneself back in the middle ages. It was a peaceful period, with many of the university students away for the holiday and the raucous New Year's fireworks yet to come.

Auvert trod carefully on the slippery cobblestones as he crossed the street. He was carrying a parcel brought in by diplomatic bag and passed through two embassy officials and the resident agent before being paced in a safe drop for an intermediary to recover and move to another safe drop. A local operative had checked out the drop and left a signal that it was clear. Only then did Auvert recover the package. Dropping it would destroy the contents, and Green was anxiously awaiting it. Auvert did not want to screw it up so close to delivery.

He unlocked the entrance with what looked like an antique brass key, but which contained a series of magnets and tiny indentations designed to defeat duplication and standard lock-picking tools. The Foyer was empty, as it always was. Green would be checking him out on the closed circuit television. Auvert switched the parcel to his other arm and used his left paw to touch the blank square of glass beside the inner door. A grid with the ten digits and six other symbols appeared, each in a position randomly generated to prevent any particular key from showing more wear than another. Auvert entered his code and the door clicked open.

From the outside it looked like an ordinary wooden door, but it was only a layer of veneer over six inches of steel and ceramic. It was difficult to move and was designed to swing closed automatically. Auvert slid through it sideways, careful not to let the parcel bump against the sharp corners or get caught in the closing door. Green was sitting behind his desk facing the door. His guest was sitting off to one side. Both of them had their eyes locked on the parcel. Auvert set it down carefully in front of Green.

Green examined the outer wrapping to make sure that the parcel had not been tampered with in any way. He slit the sealing tape and peeled the paper down. The inner wrapping had the security tape and stamps used exclusively by FOX, and the code number written on it matched. Still, he was apprehensive. Enough agents had died and disappeared in the last few years to make paranoia a survival trait. Seeing him hesitate, Auvert reached out to open the package for him, but he waved the younger fox away. It was his consignment, his responsibility.

Green pulled a retractable knife from his pocket and slit the seals. He paused, waiting for some sort of adverse reaction. When nothing happened he cut away the top of the wrapping and dropped it to one side. Reaching in, he gripped the contents with one paw while rotating the remainder of the wrapping off. When he was done, he placed the green bottle full of amber fluid in the centre of the desk and stared at it.

"Is that what I think it is?" His guest asked.

"Yes." Green answered reverently. "Fifteen year-old Jameson Irish Whiskey. Straight from the old country." He opened a drawer, pulled three small glasses out and placed them on the desk. He opened the bottle and poured a generous amount into each. "Come on boys, it's going to be a Merry Christmas."

His guest, an arctic fox with pure white fur this time of year, stepped forward and picked up a glass. "Here's to you, you bog-trotting bastard." The senior agent known as White raised the glass in salute before taking a slow sip.

"Back at you, you pommey prick." Green responded, returning the salute.

Auvert joined them in a drink, but refrained from adding to the exchange of insults. White and Green had been founding members of FOX and were old friends, despite drastically different personalities. Where Green was friendly, talkative and outgoing White was aloof, sullen and cold. Once a field agent, Green's partner as a matter of fact, he was now the Canadian liaison officer to the CIA and MI-6. His duties included briefing the field agents on allied developments and bringing their concerns and observations back to the allied agencies.

White had come to bring green up to date on the latest rash of double agents and the damage they had inflicted to western espionage efforts. The arrival of the Jameson's had interrupted their discussion. After one drink, he bluntly suggested that Auvert should leave so that they could continue. Auvert stood and reached for his coat, but Green gestured for him to stay.

"There's no need to dismiss him White. He's the only junior agent I have left and I have to trust him to be my backup, so I'll just be telling him after you leave anyway."

"Alright." White said, in obvious disagreement. "It's your turf, your call, but I'd caution you about trusting anybody these days." White looked hard at Auvert as he spoke.

Green poured another round of drinks. "You have to trust somebody, otherwise what have you become?"

They drank while White briefed them.

"The KGB defector Vitaly Yurchenko, who turned in a number of double agents earlier this year has re-defected. He's back in Moscow." He told them. We always suspected that he was holding back, but this was unexpected. Now everything he told us is suspect."

"Didn't he expose that US Navy Communications Warrant Officer?" Auvert injected. "What was his name, Johnny Walker?"

"That's a cheap Scotch, lad." Green answered, for his friend. "You're thinking of John A. Walker. He ran a ring with his son, his brother and a couple of former subordinates passing codes to the KGB. Did you know that he only joined the navy because he got arrested for burglary and the judge offered him jail or the military?"

"How the hell did he get to be a communications specialist with a criminal record?"

"There was no criminal record, since he took the deal," White answered, "and you should know better than most that a shady past doesn't necessarily mean a clearance denied." Auvert had no answer for that one. "Back to the subject, Yurchenko also turned in Howard, Pollard, Pelton and several others. Along with Walker's material, their activities explain a lot about how the Soviets were able to keep one step ahead of us all these years, but not everything. They didn't have access to the list of undercover agents that have died or disappeared lately. The CIA suspects that Yurchenko was sent to muddy the waters by giving up some little fish that they didn't need any more, to take suspicion off a bigger fish. They think that there's a shark in those waters somewhere."

"They haven't been able to find 'Mister Big' through background checks and financial records?" Auvert asked.

"It's not as easy as it seems." White relied. "Once they had Walker's and the other's names they could get the warrants they needed, but even then, if they had not been financially motivated there would have been no hard evidence. It can take years to confirm a leak from an ideologically motivated or compromised source."

Auvert had learned about these in the Academy. Most moles did it because they needed the money, or thought that they deserved more. Once they had delivered and accepted payment they often became the second common type, the compromised or blackmailed source, doing it out of fear of exposure. Both of those types left a money trail that was easy to spot once you knew where to look. The ideologues, the true believers, were harder to find. Their reward was in the act itself. They tended to be righteous, and because of that were almost immune from blackmail, making them harder for the controlling agency to manipulate.

The mention started Green reminiscing about old cases and the motives behind the double agents. They were more common than the western agencies liked to admit, and highly embarrassing when the media got a hold of the story. The 'Cambridge Four': Blunt, Philby, Burgess and McLean in England being the most commonly known example. The fact that three of the four fish in that case had managed to escape the net was bad enough, less well known, but more worrisome, was the fact that there was at least one more member of that ring that had never been identified. Could the 'Fifth Member' be the source of the leak? Probably not, FOX and the CIA had cut the British off from that type of information for now, so the mole, if there was one, was on their side of the ocean. Green poured another round.

Auvert suddenly remembered why White would be concerned with this. As part of the 'Red, White and Blue' liaison team, representing the Americans, the Canadians and the Brits respectively, it was his job to regulate the release of information between the allied agencies. If the allies suspected that the mole was in FOX, he would be the one to answer their concerns. Finally, as the one senior agent whose terrain was worldwide, it was his job to plug the leak if one was discovered. He would personally terminate another senior agent if need be, and all of the remaining senior agents were his contemporaries.

From their talk, which became more casual as the level in the bottle went down, it was obvious to Auvert that they believed that there was a high-level mole somewhere in the system. They were also afraid that the mole might be inside FOX.

White was sitting back away from the desk where he could see both Auvert and Green. He toyed with the glass in his left paw. Auvert noticed that his right was under his jacket, holding something out of sight. He put his own glass down and casually draped his arm over the back of the chair, so that his paw was only an inch from the butt of his Beretta. White saw the move and smiled.

"We've run a number of slightly different versions of some interesting information off to see which version ends up on the other side." White said nonchalantly. He looked up at his old friend Green. "Your copy did."

Although he didn't change posture or expression, Auvert knew Green well enough now to tell that his mind was racing through possible scenarios. He also thought that he knew Green well enough to tell whether he was a double agent or not. He had great respect for Green and his abilities, one of which was lying his way out of bad situation. More than once he had seen Green tie up an opponent in verbal knots, distracting them just long enough to pull his gun and terminate the debate. If Green had started in on White, Auvert might have shot Green himself, but the old Irish fox's silence convinced him that his mentor was innocent, so he concentrated on watching White.

White glanced over at Auvert and laughed. "Well, you've won this one's loyalty. As I was saying, the version we prepared for you turned up on the other side, but before we had a chance to deliver it to you, so you are one of the few I feel I can trust. Unfortunately, it indicates that we probably have a leak inside FOX. Someone connected well enough to intercept 'eyes only' documents."

"What do want me to do?" Green asked.

"I want you to keep your eyes open. I can't look into this effectively, everybody knows what I do and the rumour mill is more powerful than the Official Secrets Act. The mole would see me coming long before I can get close to them. I need you to poke around quietly, to use your elicitation skills on FOX personnel, until you find out who could have intercepted a document meant for you. Give me a name, or at least a short list, and we'll take care of the rest." He pulled his paw out from under his jacket. There was a sealed envelope in it. He handed the envelope over to Green.

Green looked sober again now. He put the cap back on the bottle of whiskey and it disappeared into the drawer. Celebrations were over.

"I'll let you know what I find out."

* * * * * * * *

White delivered the next bottle of Irish Whisky himself. Auvert was seated behind Green's desk when White came in through the safe door. Of course he would have the combination, Auvert thought, he probably had the entry codes for every safe house FOX owned.

The older fox strode over to the desk and put the package down hard. Hard enough to split the wrapping and break the bottle inside. The smell of good Irish whiskey filled the room as an amber pool spread across Green's desk.

"What happened?" The liaison officer demanded.

"You read the report." Auvert replied sadly.

"I want to hear it from you!"

"He had been working on that case of yours." Auvert began. "He had a suspect in mind, one of our senior people, but he didn't want to say anything more until he had some confirmation. Green spent the last few months setting up a meeting with a GRU Colonel. He thought that he could exploit the rivalry between the KGB and Soviet military intelligence. He was so certain that this contact would pay off that he had arranged to fly back to Ottawa for a meeting with W immediately afterwards."

"Bypassing me?" White asked in a chilly tone.

Auvert looked up into White's eyes for the first time. "Bypassing even you. You were the one who told him not to trust anyone, weren't you?"

White slumped down into one of the chairs. "How did he die?"

Auvert knew that the White would have gone over the report in great detail before coming over. What he really wanted were assurances. "Green selected the spot for the meeting himself. He had a way in and two alternate exit routes. I swept the area before the meet and took up surveillance where I could cover all the possible approaches. After the Colonel went in, Green waited fifteen minutes then entered the area. He never made it to the rendezvous. Three members of the Red Brigade were robbing a jewellery store on a street parallel with his route and exited out the back door, into the alley he was walking down, just as he approached. They had their guns out and he must have drawn his when he saw them because he killed one of them. The other two had Uzi sub-machine guns. Green was hit twenty seven times, still he managed to wound them both."

Auvert continued. The wounded members of the Red Brigade had left the dying Irish fox in the alley and fled, but the German Politzie were already converging. The two died in the shoot off, as did one police officer and two bystanders. Auvert had gone in when he heard the first shot, but Green was dead by the time he found him. The GRU Colonel had taken the quickest way out of the area at the first sound of gunfire. He was not responding to Auvert's signals. That source was cold.

Signals had flown back and forth between Ottawa and Germany. The resident agent at the Canadian embassy had gotten involved. Even the local CIA and MI-6 representatives had been called in to investigate. The conclusion was that it was just an unfortunate coincidence, an unaccountable twist of fate. Auvert did not agree, and from his expression, neither did White.

"Was there anything unusual about Green when you found him?" White asked.

"I think that he was trying to draw something with his blood. A square or a rectangle. It wasn't complete though, there were blank spots in it. The coroner dismissed it."

White's expression softened, and he looked uncertain for the first time Auvert could recall. "A Red Square ... Moscow maybe. Could mean something red, or someone red." His brow was furrowed in thought.

"Scarlet." White whispered

"What?"

"Nothing. If this was a set up it would have to be someone who knew Green's methods and habits intimately. That is a very small group. Somewhere, someone knows something that can link one of that group to this."

"I can find out." Auvert said. "I can take over the European network and work the contacts. I promise you, I'll find out."

White's expression went hard again. "You are to report back to Fox HQ for other duties."

Auvert realized that White didn't trust him anymore, and therefore neither did FOX. He thought about arguing his case, but knew that this was not White's initiative, the decisions would already have been made back in Ottawa. He could refuse, but codes would be changed, contacts warned off, allies told to avoid him. Only a senior agent with a lifetime of personal contacts could operate independently, and Auvert was far from being there. The feeling of helplessness was frustrating.

"Listen," he said as he stood to leave, "Green was like a father to me. I am going to find out who did this to him and they are going to pay."

White looked at him with open hatred. "He trusted you to be his backup. Now he's dead. Not a good reference I'd say."

Auvert left without responding, ashamed, because he had said the same thing to himself a thousand times since the shooting.

* * * * * * * *

Back in Ottawa, in the roomy back seat of a large black car, Scarlet rolled off of the one who had just filled her with cum. She heaved a sigh of contentment, having experienced one of those intense orgasms that come after a long period of abstinence. She declined the offer of a cigar. The other rolled the window down an inch to let the smoke out.

"I am afraid that I will not be able to do this much longer." He commented indicating the cigar. "The ban on smoking in government buildings starts next year and that includes any building with government offices or regulated industries in them. In Ottawa, that's practically everywhere. I cannot see myself standing out on the street smoking so I suppose that I will have to quit."

"Good." Scarlet answered. "It's a filthy habit. Just being in the same car with you makes my fur stink for a week. Sooner or later someone is going to notice that the smell and the mysterious absences are linked."

"Hmmm. I've never considered that aspect of it. Do you suppose that the FOX lab rats could determine the brand by examining the residue from your fur? I smoke a relatively rare Cuban-Turkish blend. I'm sure that no more than a few dozen others in the world smoke it." He stubbed the cigar out and closed the car's ashtray over it. He took a warm damp towel from a small compartment and handed another to Scarlet. He began to wipe the results of their lovemaking off him. Scarlet did the same.

"Some of the other senior agents suspect." She said as she handed the towel back.

"That was only to be expected." He shrugged. "It is what they are trained to do. All in all, things are going well. It is a shame about Green however. I was hoping that young beau of yours would be able to take over from him in Europe, but Green was getting too close."

"What will happen to Auvert now you suppose?" She asked nonchalantly, pretending to examine her claws for flaws.

"He will be coming back to Ottawa, but he will not be very useful to us if the incident has broken him. Avoid him for now, until we see what kind of stuff he is made of. If he manages to overcome this and become a senior agent then re-establish contact."

"Sure." She replied, almost absently.

"You are not fooling me Scarlet. You like this one. Do not forget that you are playing a lonely and dangerous game. One that pits you against all the rest of the agents in the Academy. A personal relationship can mean your downfall ... or his."

"I know what I'm doing."

"But he does not, and cannot. Remember that."