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Diamonds in the Rough

Chapter Two: Shared Destiny, Strange Destiny

Zac and Akira finished going through the files late in the afternoon. There was not much, just some vague suspicions about fake certificates and detailed backgrounders on the known gangsters in Yellowknife. There was one paw-written note on the inside of the file folder though. It read: "Who are these females?" Neither no nor Akira could figure out which females he was referring to.

Akira suggested that they go to a local sushi restaurant. "It is run by Japanese, and very authentic according to the tourists who have rated it on our version of Trip Advisor.' She told him. "It would be a good introduction to our culture for you."

Zac agreed. The sun was already setting even though it was not yet six o'clock and after a short walk in sub-freezing temperatures they found themselves sitting at a small table eating raw fish with rice and seaweed. Akira showed Zac how to hold the chopsticks properly, and where to set them down between morsels. "Never tap them on the table when you adjust your grip." She advised. "That is bad luck. Just use your other paw."

She explained the different types of sushi and sashimi that were available and how they were prepared. They ordered a-la-carte so that he could sample a variety of different fish and vegetable fillings. Zac was surprised at how tasty and spicy raw fish could be, especially after she prevented him from drowning everything in soy sauce.

"Tell me about the Yakuza." He said as they ate.

"The Yakuza emerged in the mid-Edo period." She began. "The sixteen hundreds by your calendar. They were originally two main types: the Tekiya, who dealt in stolen goods, and the Bakuto, who were involved in gambling, which was illegal at the time and remains so today. Nowadays most gangs are involved in both, as well as stock manipulation, extortion, prostitution, drugs and internet pornography."

"They are known by several names, although Yakuza is most widely known name outside Japan. Ya-ku-za ns the numbers eight-nine-three, a losing hand in the card game Oicho-Kabu, a form of blackjack. The Japanese police, and the media at their request, refer to them as Boryokudan - 'violent groups', while the Yakuza itself likes the term Ninkyo Dantai - 'chivalrous organizations'. There are over one-hundred thousand Yakuza members in Japan and more overseas. As I said at the airport, wherever there are concentrations of Japanese businesses or citizens you will find the Yakuza."

"Are they that well organized?" Zac wondered.

"Ah, yes. They are notorious for their strict codes of conduct and organized nature. They have always used a hierarchical structure of oyabun-kobun where the kobun owes their allegiance to the oyabun, literally 'foster parent'. Members of Yakuza gangs cut their family ties and transfer their loyalty to the gang boss. They refer to each other as family members. In a much later period, the code of jingi, justice and duty, was developed, where loyalty and respect are a way of life. The Yakuza is populated almost entirely by men, and there are very few women involved.

"Sounds like the Italian Mafia."

"They are very similar. There is an overall boss for each syndicate, the kumicho, and directly beneath him are his senior advisors, and a headquarters chief. The second in the chain of command is the wakagashira, who governs several gangs in a region. The regional gangs themselves are governed by their local boss, the shateigashira."

"Is that what we are dealing with here?"

"Not quite. The ones here in Yellowknife is an offshoot of an Alaskan gang. They are part of Japan's largest Yakuza family, the Yamaguchi-gumi. They have more than 55,000 members divided into 850 clans. About seventy percent of their members are Burakumin."

"What's a Barrak Human?"

"Bu-ra-ku-min." She sounded it out. "The Burakumin are descendants of outcast communities of the feudal era, mainly those with occupations considered tainted with death or ritual impurity, such as butchers, executioners, undertakers, or leather workers. They are socially discriminated against in Japanese society, even today."

"Do the Burakumin look different from other Japanese?" Zac asked. "Are they a specific species?"

"Ah, no. They are genetically no different from anyone else. It is a class prejudice."

"In Canada we only look down on politicians and lawyers." Zac observed. "Then we put them in charge and give them all our money."

Akira laughed. "We could say the same of the Yakuza. Despite decades of police repression, the Yamaguchi-gumi has continued to grow. From its headquarters in Kobe, it directs criminal activities throughout Japan. It is also involved in operations in Asia and the United States. The Yamaguchi-gumi are among the world's wealthiest gangsters, bringing in billions of dollars a year from extortion, gambling, the sex industry, arms and drug trafficking, and real estate and construction kickback schemes. Shinobu Tsukasa, also known as Kenichi Shinoda, is the Yamaguchi-gumi's current oyabun. Interestingly, the local leader is named Gorou Tsukasa, and he is the fifth son of the Yamaguchi-gumi oyabun. What do you make of that?"

"Perhaps the scheme they are working here is more important than we suspected. Either that or it's a place to bury his idiot offspring."

"Gorou Tsukasa is no idiot." She said with a worried frown. "He is competent and charismatic leader, and a vicious, brutal enforcer. He is very young, for a Yakuza leader, but he is likely to move up in the organization."

"I'd like to get a look at this guy."

Akira thought for a minute. "We are already ... burned, yes? ... so there is no need to lie down in a low place."

"Lay low." He corrected.

"Ah yes. Sorry."

"Don't apologise, your English is infinitely better than my Japanese."

"Ah. So, since we do not need to 'lay low' I was thinking we could go to their club and observe them."

Zac looked sceptical. "Is that smart, to walk into their clubhouse just like that?"

"Oh it is open to the public, the Japanese public in anyway. Many ordinary Japanese go to their ... hangouts? .... For the thrill of mingling with gangsters. It is also how they contact the Yakuza when they want something the gang can provide. You would not be welcome if you went alone, but you should be fine as long as you are with me."

Zac, standing almost two metres tall and with a blacksmith's physique, looked over to the diminutive tanuki and smiled. "My hero."

Akira checked one of the apps on her phone and then brought a map of Yellowknife with their route on it to the screen. Zac paid the bill, they donned their coats and they were off. White mist steamed from their mouths as they walked to a strip mall on the edge of downtown. All the shops were closed and locked, but one door marked only with a suite number was not. It opened on to a narrow set of stairs that led to the second floor. Zac noted that there was a camera above it on the outside and another at the top of the stairs.

There was a small landing with only enough room for one on the second floor with a solid door set ninety degrees to the stairs. The design would make it extremely difficult for a police tactical team or a rival gang to bust in. Zac waited on the stairs while Akira pressed a buzzer mounted on the door frame. There was a delay of several seconds before the door clicked open, as if whoever controlled it was unsure about letting them in.

Inside it looked like a typical club, with the exception that everyone in it but Zac looked Japanese. It was sparsely populated but there were groups of up to eight sitting in booths around the outside, and a few couples and foursomes at tables between them and the dance floor, where a number of male-female and female-female couples gyrated to music unfamiliar to Zac. There was a long bar at one end and a DJ stage at the other. The place was lit with wavering green and purple lights, to simulate the Aurora, Zac supposed, and it cast a surreal glow over the patrons.

There was one raised booth big enough for ten but occupied by only five, five males. Akira choose a table directly in line with that booth and sat facing it. Zac took the chair beside her and shifted it so that he could see it also. On seeing Zac a group of tsushima cats at the next table got up and moved to one on the other side of the dance floor.

"Is that them?" He asked in a low voice.

"Yes. The hare in the middle is Gorou Tsukasa, the leader. None of the others go by their birth names. The kitsuni on his right is Hayate 'Smoothie' Hashishita, his lawyer. The creature on his left is a masked musang named Hiroshi 'Prosperous' Matsumoto, his accountant. On the ends are the muscle, the giant flying squirrel is Souta 'Hulk' Matsuoka and the Ezo wolf is Katashi 'Hard One' Tanihata.

The five was talking and looking pointedly at Zac and Akira. "Can you tell what they're talking about?" Zac asked.

"No. I cannot read their lips in this light, not from this distance. And the music is too loud to overhear what they are saying."

A waiter came up and addressed Akira in Japanese in a tone that sounded none too friendly to Zac's ears. She replied with a rush of angry words and gestures. The waiter left with a frown and headed over to the owner's table.

"Let me guess." Zac ventured. "He wanted to know why you brought a westerner into a Japanese club."

"Ah, yes, words to that effect. But with many rough words and questions about my character dispersed among them. I suggested that if his ancestors had not slept with their sisters that he would be intelligent enough to review the license of the establishment to discover that it is not a private club but a public bar and therefore subject to Canadian laws of discrimination and harassment. I ordered you a whiskey, I hope you like it."

At the raised booth Gorou listened to the waiter and gestured for him to carry on. The waiter's face fell even further but he bowed as he backed away before turning to the bar to fill their order. When he returned slammed down a whiskey and a small clay pot of rice wine. "Boss says 'last drink of the night- on the house'." Then he turned and left.

"I get the feeling that we are not welcome." Zac said

Akira shrugged. "It would be wise to depart after we have finished our drinks, but we do not have to rush." She took a small delicate sip of her wine.

Zac took an equally small sip of whiskey and almost gagged. It was cheap stuff and warm to boot. While he waited for the fire to subside he studied the five gangsters. They were all dressed in slacks and long-sleeved shirts that were buttoned up to the neck. When they reached for drinks or lifted their arms to order he could see where the fur was shaved down to the skin and the leading edge of their tattoos. Recalling another Yakuza legend he counted their digits and was a little disappointed to see that they had ten each.

"I thought that the Yakuza had an induction ritual that involved cutting off the little digit on one paw." He said to Akira.

"Ah, no. It is not an induction requirement or even a sign of loyally or fidelity as many westerners think." She replied. "Yubitsume, or the cutting off of one's digit, is a form of penance or apology. Upon a first offense, the transgressor must cut off the tip of his left little digit and give the severed portion to his oyabun. Its origin stems from the traditional way of holding a Japanese sword." She picked up a tightly rolled napkin to demonstrate. "The bottom three digits of each hand are used to grip the sword tightly, with the thumb and index slightly loose. The removal of digits starting with the little finger moving up the hand to the index finger progressively weakens one's sword grip. The idea is that a person with a weak sword grip then has to rely more on the group for protection - reducing individual action. In recent years, prosthetic digits have been developed to disguise this distinctive appearance, but I do not think that any of these five are wearing them. Their files would have mentioned it."

Zac and Akira continued to sip their drinks slowly as the place filled up. Their table became the centre of an island of empty space as the waiters shifted other tables away to accommodate resentful customers. The agent and the analyst did not talk much, and after an hour they had both finished the last drops of their drinks. Almost immediately the waiter swooped down and scooped up their glasses. "So sorry to see you go. Have good evening."

Zac made a show of slowly gathering his things as Akira stood and put on her coat. Before he could do likewise he saw another westerner enter the club. It was a stocky white poodle with a purple mohawk, a female by the way she was dressed, despite the absence of curves. There was a momentary hush as the tourists watched her cross the room, but they all went back to chatting when they saw the Yakuza bodyguards stand out of the way so she could slide onto the couch beside Gorou. She wrapped her arms around the gangster's neck and put her lips to his before shouting over the babble for a Jack Daniels.

Zac was dressed for outside now and had to turn to the exit, but before he did he could swear that the poodle had taken her blouse off to expose her braless breasts.

"Who is that?" Zac asked as the crowd parted to speed their exit.

"I have no idea." Akira answered. "The file did not mention her."

Zac and Akira decided to rendezvous in his room after returning to the hotel to compare notes and download the leagues from his hidden camera. She went to her room to drop off her coat and freshen up first. Although he rarely took more than one drink in an evening Zac stopped at the hotel bar and ordered a scotch to be sent up to his room to wash the taste of cheap whiskey out of his mouth. Then he headed upstairs himself. Before entering he checked the strands of fur he had stuck to several places on the door. They were all still intact.

But as soon as he opened the door he could sense that something was wrong. He stepped away from the doorway, fearing to be silhouetted there, and pulled out his pistol. It was a small one, but powerful enough at this range. He reached for the light switch that would illuminate the main room, but before he could touch it the lamp by the room's armchair came on.

"I surrender." Kyroo's familiar voice called from the chair.

Zac holstered his gun. "How did you get in here?"

"Through the window."

"The windows in these rooms don't open"

"This one does now. No, don't thank me. Wait until you need an emergency exit and heap praise on me then."

"Zac examined the window frame. "What did you use to stick it back with?"

"That stuff for sealing gaps in the frames for winter. It looks like silicone grout but it peels right off at any temperature. One good shove and it will pop right out."

Room service arrived with Zac's scotch. "You want anything?" He asked Kyroo before he sent the waiter away.

"No, thanks. I had enough earlier."

There was a soft knock at the door. Zac checked the peep hole and then opened it to let Akira in. She had changed her clothes and was now wearing a comfortable wrap-around dress and sandals. She seemed startled to see Kyroo when she stepped into the main portion of the room. She recovered quickly though, greeting him warmly and enquiring how his day had gone.

Kyroo described his encounter with Violet while Zac down loaded the images he had captured inside the club. "Is this her?" He asked, turning the screen around to reveal a grainy image of the white poodle.

"Yep. That's her. But I have much better pictures." He passed over his device and Zac went through it until he found a good close up of Violet.

"I'll send it to Kain to see what he can dig up on her." Zac told him. Then he and Akira went over everything they had discussed over diner and at the club. When they were done Zac asked if he could speak with his fellow FOX agent alone. Akira said she understood and left.

As soon as she was gone Zac entered the code to access FOX's encrypted email system and checked his inbox. "Your Frank Peters ID should be here in the morning." He informed Kyroo. "You were lucky that this Violet character did not ask to see it tonight. Let's set a brush-by for nine and I'll pass it over along with whatever Kain can find out about the poodle.

"Sounds good." Kyroo said. "I'll leave through the door if you don't mind. And my apologies for interrupting."

"Interrupting what?"

"Oh, come on. I saw how Akira was dressed. She didn't come to your room to discuss case files."

Zac flushed, not so much because Kyroo might be right but because he hadn't noticed the signals himself. "You're reading more into it than there is." He assured the arctic fox. "Besides, you're one to talk. It looked like that poodle was getting up close and personal with you too."

Kyroo shrugged. "That's not going anywhere, especially now that I know who her boyfriend is."

"Yeah. Looks like we're both going to have to stay celibate for this one." Zac commented as he checked the hallway. "The coast is clear. See you tomorrow."

"You got it." And with that Kyroo slipped into the hallway.

Zac packed up the computer and his other gear and dropped his clothes to the floor. According to his internal clock he was three hours late getting to bed, but he took a long time to fall asleep. All he could think of was what Akira might look like under that loose dress she had been wearing. He finally slipped into dreamland with his stiffened penis clutched in his paw.

* * * * * * * * *

The next morning Zac got up, ordered breakfast to be brought up and then checked his email. There was a file on the Yakuza members as well as one for poodle, Violet Russell. Zac skimmed hers and read the rest in detail while he ate. He dropped all the files in their encrypted format to a tiny USB stick that would only work in FOX devices and set it aside. The front desk called to advise that a courier package had arrived for him. Zac asked them to send it up when they came to get the breakfast tray.

The parcel they delivered had security features above and beyond your typical FedEx or UPS packaging. Opening the outer envelope in the air would release a gas that would capacitance anyone in the room and burn the exposed skin on one's paws. Opening the inner layer by peeling back the seal on it would destroy the contents. Zac filled the room's sink with water and immersed the parcel to neutralize the first feature and slit the bottom of the inner wrapping to slide the contents out intact.

It was the identification for the Frank Peters persona with Kyroo's picture on them. Joel had managed to make the jovial arctic fox look menacing on his driver's licence, health card and mine pass. Kyroo would need these to get on the flight to the mine to smuggle Violet's stones in. Zac put them and the USB he had loaded earlier into a hotel tip envelope and taped that to the third page of the local paper that had come with his breakfast. He glanced at his watch. There was fifteen minutes to go before the rendezvous with Kyroo.

There was another knock on the door and Zac got up to see who it was. Through the door's peephole he saw Akira, dressed much more businesslike than the previous evening. He let her in and explained that he had to pass on a few things for Kyroo before they could pick up the investigation again.

"Where are we going today?" She asked.

"I guess we should go over the same ground that the RCMP Inspector did. We should talk to the mining companies and the few artisans that are licensed to buy rough stones to see if anyone has noticed anything suspicious. Particularly if it involves a group of females."

"Maybe this Violet of Agent Echos was using the females at her club to seduce and extort the assayers into issuing false certificates?"

"Maybe. I've asked Kyroo to get some pictures of them when he goes over there today. We'll stop by the government offices to see if they have a list of the, uh, employees to match up with it."

It was time for him to pass on the ID and USB to Kyroo so they left the room and headed downstairs. Zac put the newspaper with the envelope under his left arm as they descended. In the lobby, Kyroo was reading the same newspaper by the front doors. When he saw Zac step out of the elevator he folded his copy of the paper and put it under his left arm also before turning and walking toward the elevator. They passed each other halfway across the lobby and their elbows bumped. The papers dropped to the floor.

They each mumbled random apologies without really looking at one another as they bent to retrieve their papers. Zac picked up the one Kyroo had dropped, leaving the loaded one for his fellow agent. Papers firmly planted under arms again they carried on without a glance backward. Zac and Akira went straight out to the parking lot to get their rental car and Kyroo got on the elevator and went to his room.

He slipped the new ID into his wallet and plugged the USB into the tablet FOX had given him. It was encrypted in the same way as Zac's and any attempts to bypass the encryption would delete all but a few innocuous music files. He skimmed over the files for the five Yakuza gangsters but he studied Violet's in detail.

What he found made him frown. She had not lied about the hardships he had grown up with, but rather had glossed it over. At birth she had been registered under a Japanese name that translated as 'Flowers shifting in the wind'. Which was where she came up with 'Violet Russell' he supposed. In Alaska she had been registered as Kathryn, after her mother, and Whitebear, the name of the family that had fostered her. According to her juvenile file, obtained through one of Kain's computer tricks no doubt, she had hated that name and would beat up any one who called her that, including teachers. When she was eighteen she had it legally changed.

The suppressed reports that Kain had obtained included interviews with child welfare workers, medical exams and police reports that detailed the horrific abuse she suffered a the paws of her foster father and mother. But the two collaborated each other's alibis, and since Violet already had a reputation as a fighter and a trouble maker the prosecutors choose to believe them, and charges were never filed.

The number of police reports increased after she moved out. A fair number were for public nudity but most of them mentioned her as a participant or instigator of bar brawls and street fights. Anyone who filed a complaint against her for the latter tended to turn up at the station even bloodier to withdraw the charges. Somehow she managed to escape creating an adult criminal record while being a 'person of interest' in a number of illegal activities.

Here the Academy psychologist, the rat Doctor Gordon, had inserted a note attributing her activities to a form of PTSD from the childhood abuse. He explained that because she did not have any structural influence in her life she was on a descending spiral to addiction and madness.

Then according to the other files her bad behaviour had abruptly stopped about the time the Yakuza had moved into Anchorage. She began living the life of a model citizen ... or so it seemed. While the local police reports ceased they were replaced by those from the FBI and other federal agencies. She was named in conjunction with several Yakuza schemes, but there was never enough evidence to bring her in, and their attempts to turn her into an informant were rebuffed. They could not even threaten to deport her because her mother had obtained American citizenship for her before shipping her back across the Pacific.

It seemed to Kyroo that the Yakuza had given Violet the structure she needed to succeed, albeit as a criminal. With the information from the files, from what she had told him and the things she had unwittingly revealed about herself, Kyroo was developing a comprehensive profile of the bi-cultural poodle.

An alarm went off. It was time to go and meet Violet at the Bad Dog to collect the consignment. Kyroo shut off the tablet and put it in an inner pocket of his parka as he left the hotel room.

The bars were still closed this time of morning and it was too early for the dancers to show up but the back door of the strip joint was unlocked, as she had promised it would be. Kyroo was surprised to find several dozen females, all of Asian species, wandering around in the back rooms. Kyroo made sure to capture as many of their faces as he could with the hidden camera. The two bouncers from the night before were herding them away from the exit and they frowned when the male arctic fox appeared. One of them, Kyroo was not sure if it was Muk or Luk, opened the door marked 'office' and stuck his head inside.

Violet appeared swearing a moment later. She was dressed only in a short t-shirt with a cartoon character on it and a pair of black lace panties. She grabbed Kyroo by the upper arm and pulled him into the office and closed the door behind them. "You weren't supposed to see that." She told him. "Those ladies are our couriers, and they should have dispersed by now, but the plane was late arriving and we're running behind schedule."

There was a pile of papers on the desk and Violet swept them into the top drawer and slammed it shut. Kyroo did not let his expression change but he had recognized the documents as blank Canadian visas and immigration certificates. He had obtained ones just like them when he went to work for FOX. But his had come from a government office, not the manager of a strip club. He wondered if their forgeries were as good as the ones Joel made when they had to sneak a foreign contact into the country on the sly.

"Let me see your wallet." Violet demanded as soon as they were alone.

"What for?"

"The local Yakuza boss had you checked out. The word was that Frank Peters is a stand up guy who has infiltrated a number of corporations for the Toronto Syndicate, but we could only get a vague description of him. They asked me to check your ID."

Blessing the fact that the courier package had arrived in time Kyroo nonchalantly passed over his wallet. It had been purged of anything personal before leaving Ottawa and his own ID was hidden under a flap of loose carpet in his hotel room. He had booked the room for a week initially, not knowing how long it would take to integrate himself with the gang, so it would still be available for him when he got back from the mine.

"The girls out there looked kinda dopey." Kyroo said as she inspected the ID that Joel the lemur had aged to match the dates on them. "Like they were on drugs or something."

"They're recuperating. They come as tourists to see the northern lights. They ingest the stones encased in silicone and we give them a little purgative to help get them out. We used to move drugs that way but sometimes the drugs would leak and kill the girls. This is a lot safer."

"The rough stones don't ever cut through the silicone and damage the girls?"

Violet hesitated a split second before replying. "Never."

How do you pay the couriers?"

"That is not my concern. They get taken somewhere else to recover and get paid there." She was looking around the office, avoiding his eyes as she spoke. "The stones should be ready soon." She said, fiddling with her clothes.

"That's a nice Underdog t-shirt." Kyroo said to change the mood.

"Oh, you like it? It's paw- made, from Budapest. Look." She pulled the shirt off over her head and turned it inside out so that Kyroo could see the label. She was not wearing a bra beneath it. The nipples on her boyish breasts stuck out hard in the chilly room. Kyroo struggled not to stare at them, or the taut muscular belly just below them, or the firm round ass outlined by shear black lace. Suddenly he was feeling very uncomfortable.

"Would you, ah, mind putting your shirt back on, Violet?"

An evil grin came over her face. "Why Peters, don't you like what you see?" She stepped in closer. "Want to touch them?"

Kyroo held his ground and fixed his gaze at eye level. "Why do I get the feeling that doing so would be the equivalent of putting by paw into a bear trap?"

Violet barked a laugh and backed away, pulling on the t-shirt on as she did. "You're not as dumb as you look, Peters." She let her eyes drift up and down his lanky frame, unconsciously licking lips like she was contemplating a particularly succulent pork chop. Then she shook her head to clear it and got back to business.

"I'll go check and see how our diamonds are coming along." She said as she slipped out the door. Kyroo heard the lock engage after she closed it behind her.

She returned twenty minutes later with about a hundred rough stones wrapped in a cloth. The stones were clean and wet, as if they had just been washed. She asked if he could smuggle that many at a time into the mine. He acknowledged that he could. She passed the bundle to him and her paws lingered on his for a moment longer than was necessary.

She gave him the name of the assayer that he should bring the stones to. "Here's his payment for the certificates." She said, giving him a small rectangular package that probably contained cash. "Pay him after he returns the stones to you. Don't let him try to claim that it is short, and don't let him flitch any of the stones either. Make sure you get all of them back after he registers the certificates. We have others on the inside and you'll be watched. Not all the time but you'll never know where or when. I don't need to tell you what will happen to you if any of these stones or the money disappears while in your possession, do I?"

"No Ma'am."

"Good. When you get back to Yellowknife you don't bring the stones here. They have another place in town where you will deliver them and get paid." She gave him the details for the rendezvous. When she was done she surveyed him again, nervously biting her lip. "Look Peters ..."

"Call me Frank."

"... Frank. You seem competent enough and you can hold your own in a fight. There may be more work for you if you play your cards right, but only if you learn to keep your trap shut." Unexpectedly, she stood on her toes and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek. Then she quickly turned away and held the office door open for him. "We'll see each other when you get back, but for now let's take things one step at a time."

Kyroo nodded, and left without a word.

Kyroo knew that the fix was in for the flight to the mine on the company plane, but he went through the motions of stopping at a mall and going into the handicap stall of the restrooms there with his luggage. He put the stones inside a fake can of deodorant that Joel had rigged up and put the can in his carryon bag. The building's janitor came in behind him and busied himself mopping the same few square meters of floor the whole time Kyroo was in there. On his way out Kyroo checked the cleaning schedule that was taped to the inside of the washroom door and noted that it had just been cleaned five minutes earlier. He was already under surveillance.

As expected things went smoothly at the airport and at the mine, where employees were subject to a thorough search for contraband items on arrival. Security officers were not exempt, but 'Frank Peters' and his things were only given a cursory inspection. He went straight to his room and transferred the rough diamonds into the hollow back of a metal clipboard holder and put the cash into a pouch he could secure under his clothing. Then, as would be expected of a new security officer returning from leave, he reported to the Head of Security for his assignment.

The Head of Security was a huge rottweiler by the name of Christian Banks. He had been in the Military Police when Silver had been with the Special Forces and the two had served together. The Chief of Staff assured Zac and Kyroo that Banks could be trusted. Nevertheless, Kyroo kept up the Frank Peters charade until the big dog had closed the office door and turned a radio by it up to an uncomfortably high level. Then he asked for Kyroo's ID. Kyroo passed the fake papers over.

"I was expecting a wolf." Banks said, leaning across the desk so that Kyroo could make him out over the blare of the radio.

"Last minute change of plans. My colleague was made by the opposition so we switched roles. Is there a problem with that?"

"No. Your boss told me that an arctic fox would be working with the wolf. And the serial number on this Social Insurance Card matches the one he said to use as confirmation."

"So we're all good then?"

"Mostly." The canine sat back for a moment, contemplating his next words. "There has been a development. I can't let you take the stones back to Yellowknife." He held up a paw as Kyroo began to protest. "I know that the company had promised full cooperation, but they reassessed the damage it could do to their reputation should these stones be found out as blood diamonds after we certified them and the result made them very nervous. I'm afraid that I'm going to have to confiscate them."

"But that will burn me with the Yakuza, and end any chance we have of figuring out what's behind this scheme. Hell, we may know how they are getting the stones to Yellowknife but we don't know where they are getting them from or what they do with the profits. If you take them now they'll just find another crocked way of certifying them, maybe through another market, or another mine."

"This is probably their biggest shipment to date. We believe that by intercepting this batch they will stop any further shipments to Yellowknife and set up somewhere else, like Australia. That keeps a fair number of illegal stones off our market, saves our reputation and puts the problem somewhere else. That's good enough for my employers, and they have put some pressure on the Minister to agree to see it their way."

"Jesus, Silver's gonna flip when he finds out. Isn't there some way you guys can hold off o give us a chance to figure this out? Until the next shipment at least?"

The rottie looked down at his paws for a few moments before speaking again. "I can't against orders from the head office, but there is one thing I can do, if you're willing to take a risk. I can wait until your contact here has the stones in his possession and make it look like we found them by accident. You fake a medical emergency when you hear the news and go back to Yellowknife empty-pawed. If you can convince the Yakuza that you had nothing to do with the loss of the stones then you may get another chance with them. But if not ... " the dog drew one claw across his throat while making a zipping noise. Kyroo got the picture.

He thought fast. The gang must have redundant contacts for the certificates, and his supposedly 'fool-proof ' method of smuggling may still be of value to them. He decided to risk it. "I'm in." He told the Mine's Head of Security. "But while I'm here, can I get onto your secure server to send some files to my office?"

Banks agreed, allowing Kyroo to link his tablet to the Security Division computer. Kyroo composed a note explaining what was up for Silver and attached the images captured by his hidden camera at the Bad Dog Cafe. Then he went to meet the assayer that he would pass the stones to.

As a supposed member of the asset recovery team 'Frank Peters' had access to the secure wing where all the stones waiting to be certified were kept. Once again, the security checks for those entering were nowhere near as stringent as for those leaving. The guard on duty did not even look at Kyroo's clipboard. Once inside the security zone he made his way to the cubicle of the crooked assayer.

"Mister Wright?" He addressed the weasel as he stood behind him, blocking the view of anyone passing by. "Frank Peters from security. We're doing random cross checks of the inventory sheets."

"Of course. I have them right here in my desk." The weasel pulled a drawer lined with felt open and left it that way as he shuffled papers on his desk. Kyroo pressed a hidden catch on the clipboard and poured the rough stones into the drawer. They hardly made a whisper as they spread on the soft felt. "Here's my copy of the inventory." Wright said as he pushed the drawer closed with his knee.

Kyroo took the paper the weasel was offering and pretended to compare it with the one on his clipboard. "Looks like everything is in order." He told Wright. "See you next time."

The weasel did not speak, he just waved a paw absently as he returned to work. Kyroo visited several other cubicles and had essentially the same conversations with their occupants before leaving the zone. This time he was X-rayed, prodded, poked and made to open his mouth for a visual examination from one guard while a second examined his things. Once he was back out in the general area of the mine he returned to his room, picked up the phone and dialed Christian Banks' extension.

"Second drawer, right side." He told the rottweiler after recognizing the big dog's voice. Then he hung up. Lying back Kyroo checked his watch to see what time it was. He would have several hours to kill before Banks made his move, and after that he would hang out in the public areas until rumours of the bust went around. Unable to sleep, he spent the time wondering how the Yakuza would react to the news of the lost consignment and rehearsing responses to them.

* * * * * * * *

Zac and Akira spent the day in Yellowknife re-interviewing everyone that Inspector Brown had talked to and visiting every place he had before he went to the mine where he met his untimely death. The only exception was the Bad Dog Cafe, which they were avoiding to keep the heat off Kyroo as much as possible. By the end of the day they were no farther ahead that had been at that time the day before. Moreover, they were no closer to figuring out who the females were that Brown's mysterious note referred to.

They ate at another restaurant featuring authentic Japanese cuisine. It was crowded, and they were not able to discuss the case because of the close proximity of the other patrons. Akira made Zac sample the rice wine with his dinner. Eating Japanese food one should drink Japanese drink, yes?"

After dessert she suggested that they return to the hotel to compare notes. Zac agreed to meet in her room after a quick trip to his own to use the bathroom where he left a lethal cloud of intestinal gas behind. He blamed it on all the fish and raw vegetables Akira was making him eat. Fearing that the smell might cling to what he had been wearing he changed into a pair of yoga pants, a tight t-shirt and sandals. Then, taking the FOX computer and his key, he headed up to her room.

There he found that he was not the only one who had dressed more comfortably, although in her case it was a silk kimono. She had also let her hair down and donned white cotton socks with a divider between the first two toes for the strap on her sandals. The secret file folder with Brown's notes was sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch, beside a bucket of ice with a bottle of wine stuck in it. Zac was relieved to see that it wasn't rice wine; he had downed enough of that with the fish, raw and otherwise.

Seeing him notice the wine Akira said "I hope you don't mind but I needed something stronger than sake so I ordered up a bottle of Chardonnay. Why don't you check to see if your friend Kyroo has sent any updates while I pour us some wine?"

"Sure." Zac sat down and set up his computer. By the time Akira sat down beside him on the small couch he had downloaded the images Kyroo had collected inside the Bad Dog along with his report on what he had learned there. Zac read the report out loud while Akira scrolled through close ups of the ones Kyroo had identified as couriers. "Do you think that these could be the females Brown was referring to?" Zac asked her.

"I think yes." She answered as she peered at the photos. "If he was as expert on Japanese organized crime he may have unconsciously noticed what I am seeing now."

"And what is that?"

She turned the screen around to face him, she had made a collage of faces of the couriers. "None of these females are Japanese."

"Wha-" Zac was flabbergasted. "But they're .... they're all .... all ..." He waved his paw at the screen helplessly.

"Yes, they are all Asian, but not Japanese. You have to grow up in the region or live there a very long time to see them but there are subtle differences. It is in the colour of the eyes and the shape of the muzzle. In the thickness of the ears, the width of the mouth, the way they do their fur."

Zac looked again. The group represented a wide variety of species and facial types, but there was nothing he could point at and say which culture any of them were from. He told Akira that.

"You live in a very diverse region, but are a grey wolf," she said, "a species that can be found around the world, yes?"

"Yes."

"You notice wolves in a crowd because we each seek out our own." Zac nodded in agreement. "You probably categorize them because as an agent you are constantly on the lookout for threats." Zac nodded again. "Think now, do Swedish wolves look like Italian wolves to you? Or even like Russian wolves? When you see a wolf on the street in Ottawa do you know if it is a local or a foreigner?"

Zac had to admit that he could tell sub-species of his own type apart, and that he usually did know whether someone in a plaid shirt was from down home or just some inner city hipster. "But I'm not always correct." He concluded.

"Neither am I, but eighty percent of these females are definitely from other countries. I see Koreans, Pilipinos, Vietnamese, Chinese from the north and south coastal regions, Thais, and a few that could be Malaysian or Indonesian." Her digit flew around the screen as she pointed then out. "This is in keeping with another Yakuza line of business - prostitution. They recruit country girls from these regions and lure them to Japan with visas and promises of jobs and language training. They bring them in illegally and then use their illegal status to force them into becoming prostitutes of the lowest kind. With no friends, family, contacts or language skills they have nowhere to turn. It generally does not end well for them."

"Species smugglers? But why risk using slaves as couriers in a foreign country where the risk of them seeking refugee status is high?"

"I do not know. But I will find out. I will send these to my office, but the odds of them being in the official databases is small. If I had names it would help."

"Murphy at Border Services mentioned that Brown was thinking of getting a warrant for the flight manifests and video surveillance from the airport. Maybe we should follow up on that?"

"How long will it take to get?"

"I don't know." Zac frowned. "Secret agents don't usually have to submit warrants. Let me check with my Headquarters." He took the computer back and opened a voice line to the FOX Duty officer, prefacing the request with a codeword that meant that friendly, but not Canadian, ears were listening in.

The call was answered by Kain Algorath, another American arctic fox like Kyroo, and hacker extraordinaire. "What's up Zac?" He asked.

Zac explained Akira's theory about the Yakuza using non-Japanese couriers to smuggle their rough diamonds. He mentioned Brown's suspicions and his intent to get the manifests and video surveillance released. "How long will it take us to get a warrant and have Border Services transfer the data to us?" Zac asked.

"It's a weekend, and this doesn't count as an emergency, so probably five days to get the warrant signed and another two to get it through the bureaucracy at CBSA. Say two weeks before we get the data."

"That's pretty slow." Zac commented. "Kyroo is in a tricky position and I'd like to move on this as soon as possible. Murphy said that CBSA won't pass it over without a warrant, but is there any way we can speed up the process? Get the Chief of Staff or the Director to use the 'Old Boy' network maybe?"

"Hang on a sec." The line went silent. Kain was probably consulting with the Chief of Staff on another line, Zac supposed.

After two minutes Kain was back on the line. "Silver says we can go ahead and extract the data while we wait for the warrant to be processed. Since we aren't getting for evidentiary purposes, at this point, it won't matter if our, ah, acquisition is not strictly legal."

"You're going to hack into a fellow agency and steal their data?" Zac asked, incredulously. You think you can do that?"

"Sure." Zac could hear Kain crack his knuckles over the computer speaker. "I designed their firewall. You'll have your data by morning."

Zac signed off and shut the computer down. "I guess that's it for tonight." He said, and then finished his wine. Standing to go he said "I'll call you in the morning when the files come in. We can order breakfast sent up while we go over them."

Akira patted the couch beside her. "Ah, but there is much wine left, and we have not reviewed the file in light of this new development." She pointed to the classified folder.

Zac sat down again and reached for the file while Akira poured him another glass of wine. The file felt heavier than it had earlier in the day, and he wondered if she had printed anything off to add to it while he was in his room. It hardly seemed like there had been time. Placing the folder in front of him he opened it and began flipping through the familiar pages.

"What did you mean by 'prostitutes of the lowest kind'?" Zac asked Akira when he came to the note about Yakuza activities.

"The sexual foibles of Japanese males are well known, as are the clubs where they fulfill them. But most of them do not involve sexual intercourse as you westerners define it. One can find clubs that simulate being examined by naughty nurses, fondling schoolgirls on the subway, and the most popular, pressing up against secretaries in crowded elevators. But some of our males need to inflict pain in order to satisfy themselves. Many Japanese prostitutes are willing to submit to nipple tweeting and mild shocks while squealing and begging their 'master' to fornicate them thoroughly, but most draw the line at anything that causes intense pain, bruising or disfigurement. That is why the Yakuza brings in foreign, disposable females."

"Japan isn't the only place where that happens." Zac admitted. "Just last year our cops swept up a gang from Shanghai and freed almost a hundred Chinese females that thought they were coming to Canada to study."

"Is it true that all western males dream of bedding Asian females?" Akira asked.

The course of the conversation was starting to make Zac nervous. He was acutely aware of how close she was as she leaned toward him on the short couch. He gulped another mouthful of wine before answering. "No ... yes ... I mean, to a degree, I suppose."

"Is it because of the western inclination toward paedophilia?"

"What? No. I mean, not because we're paedophiles, because we're not. Asian females are ... well, they're just ... cute. Not that you're cute, I mean, you are, but not in that way." He was starting to sweat, partially from the wine. Zac was a lightweight drinker at best.

Akira frowned, and Zac could not tell if she was exaggerating or if she was really offended. "You do not find me attractive?" She leaned even closer, close enough for Zac to see down the front of her kimono.

"Yes, no, I mean, we're working together, so I look on you as an equal partner. I'm no more attracted to you than I am to Kyroo." He lied.

"Agent Echos is very cute. You two are not yaoi, are you?"

Zac did not know what that word meant. "I, uh, should finish this file and be, uh, going." He said, sliding as far into the corner of the couch as he could.

Near the end of the file he discovered what it had felt heavier. There was a glossy magazine stuck between the documents. It had a picture of a Japanese lady in a very sexy samurai outfit on the cover. The text around it was mostly Asian characters, but the magazine title was written in English - Taboo.

"Oh, so there is where I left that. So sorry." Akira said, but she made no move to retrieve the publication.

Zac went to lift it out of the folder by one corner as if it was toxic but it slipped from his wine-lubricated digits. It landed on the coffee table opened at the halfway mark, revealing two pages of a comic that featured a three-tailed kitsuni vixen in the process of being raped by a smooth-skinned demon with tusks. The creature had a phallus roughly the size of Zac's arm. Zac could not interpret the Japanese talk bubbles but he could read the expressions on the vixen's face, and he found it strange that it changed from pain to pleasure through the progression of the panels.

"Ah, one of my favourite artists." Akira commented as she leaned forward to brush the pads of her digits delicately across the very graphic images. "You know, Zac, Japanese females have fantasies too. A lot of them read, or write, male-on-male sexual fantasies. Have you and your partner Kyroo ever ...?"

Zac's mind suddenly flashed to their recent encounter with Delores in Gatineau Park. His arms around both her and Kyroo as the two of their cocks rubbed against each other in the same hole. His face went red enough to glow through the sparse fur on his cheeks.

Akira's eyes went wide with delight. "You have! Tell me all about it."

"It's not what you think .... we were .... there was a vixen between us."

"Ah, two on one. That is another popular Japanese lady fantasy."

"Is that what this ... this magazine is all about?" Zac gestured to the table.

"Oh yes. We have 'lady comics' and magazines like this one, Taboo, and also Amour, Cute, Scandal ... a few others. In the stories we often picture themselves as being sexually dominant, engaging in group sex, or such. But more often they contain rape fantasies. Being raped by large, wild beasts is very popular, as you can see, and one of my favourites." Akira moved right up against Zac, her thigh squeezed against his.

"Beasts?" Zac croaked as he tried to drill himself into the corner of the couch. The wine, the erotic imagery and the heat coming off her had caused a portion of him to stand up on its own. The yoga pants were insufficient defence against the rebellious region. He crossed his paws over his crotch to hide the traitorous appendage.

"Dragons, demons." She was leaning against him while she traced the detail of the kitsuni's dripping vagina in the last panel. "I prefer wolves myself." She looked up and he was captured by her big brown eyes. "Big wolves. Our local wolves are very small compared to western species."

"That Ezo wolf seemed big enough." Zac said desperately. "He's at least as tall as I am."

"That is not what I meant." She said, brushing his arms aside and laying a paw on his groin. With her other paw she slipped the knot on her kimono and let it hang open, revealing large, round breasts tipped with dark nipples. His canine nose detected an odour rising from the shadowy area below them, a scent that swelled his prick to fill her paw. "I fantasize about being ravaged by a wolf with arms like a blacksmith, legs like tree trunks, his fangs dripping with lust and .... and with a penis as hard as a o-daiko drummers bachi." She rubbed his aching joint through the thin material. "A penis like this one."

Zac tried to think about something, anything else to resist the involuntary swelling down below. He thought that if he had a chance to attend the Academy's Advanced Sexual Techniques class in Bangkok he would be able to resist such seduction. He thought about carrying those pills that the Academy had that prevented the absorption of alcohol to let an agent stay sharp and sober while drinking socially. He thought about the old European myths where wolves were beastly, half-feral sexual predators stalking little vixens in red. He thought about the downy red and brown fur that covered her succulent breasts. Then Zac stopped thinking altogether as ancient desires overwhelmed modern sensibilities.

With a growl that started deep in his throat he threw himself onto the smaller tanuki. She gasped as he tore the thin kimono off her shoulders and pushed her down on the couch. He was drooling as he lowered his head to her breasts and greedily sucked at the hard nipples. She squealed and squirmed, but he used his weight to hold her down as he reached between her legs with one paw to squeeze and prod at her damp mound.

Looking up at him she saw a completely different creature than the mild mannered Canadian agent that had been so polite and deferential the last two days. Now his eyes had a yellow tinge and his lips were curled back in a cruel grimace as he fondled her breasts and vagina roughly. His fur stood up in a ridge down his back and his large muscles stood out as adrenaline and testosterone coursed through him. If she truly had been attacked in some dark Kyoto alley by such a creature she would have feared for her life, but tonight his feral regression just fuelled her fantasy, and she while she whined and twisted in mock protest her eyes and the curl of her smile revealed her true feelings.

Zac pressed her down on the couch as he fumbled at his waist. Akira assisted, pulling the yoga pants down as he rose up on his knees, freeing his swollen prick. She gasped at its size, a little afraid for real now. It was longer and thicker than any she had experienced before, not that she had much experience there. It was not as big as the ones depicted in her lady comics but it was as big as your average daikon, the giant white radish often seen hanging in bunches from rural cottages. As a teenager Akira had once experimented with such a vegetable, lubricating it well and inserting it slowly, and she wondered how she would handle this living, throbbing root.

Normally an attentive and considerate lover, Zac had entered a zone where he ceased to care about his partner's satisfaction. The fact that acting in such a manner served her fantasy did not enter into his thoughts. Kneeling above her on the couch he tore his own t-shirt in two, leaving the rags hanging off his shoulders, and grabbed her head. Forcing it to him he drove her lips down over his rock-hard rod and began yiffing her mouth with great abandon.

Gulping and gasping Akira let him pump her throat, but she kept a paw on the underside of his sack to gauge how close he was getting to orgasm. She reached down between her own legs with the other, plunged two digits deep inside and began rubbing hard.

Not caring how long he lasted, Zac drove his cock in until he felt her throat close around the knob on the tip and then pulled it out for another plunge. But he wanted his mouth on her also. He wanted to nip and gnaw and taste her on his tongue. So, with pausing his pumping, he grabbed her hips and twisted her around until her legs were pointing to the ceiling. Then, removing one paw from her head and placing it on her ass, he pushed her crotch against his jaw.

She had pulled her paw out of herself when he lifted her up, and now she was using both to hold on to his waist as her head mimicked the thrust of his hips. She wrapped her short slim legs around his large furry head and squeezed it as he stuck his long tongue deep inside her. Strong scents and sweet juices exuded from her as Zac devoured her sex.

With a claw on her clit, his tongue in her twat and a digit digging into her dirt chute Zac carried on with lusty abandon. Back at the academy he had been having almost daily liaisons with Delores, and his balls had adjusted to that production rate. But he had not cum in several days, and there was a backlog of inventory had to be moved out before new spooge could take its place. His balls began to jerk as the loading dock filled up. Then, with no warning, the warehouse doors slid open and the shipment was on its way.

Akira sensed it coming by the hitch in his hips. She sealed her lips around his shaft to catch every drop as the fist gobs of hot goo shot down her throat. But he was moving too fast and she could not breathe and swallow at the same time and there was just too much spooge, so she pulled her had back and let the last few spurts take her in the face. When his hips stopped she rubbed her cheeks along the shaft and then took him in her mouth again. She sucked his cock clean and swallowed the last few drops before exploring the slit at the end with the tip of her tongue.

Zac had lifted his head from her twat as soon as he felt his balls clench for the delivery. He groaned with pleasure when she ingested the first shot and moaned in ecstasy as her tongue did cleanup duty on his hyper sensitive cock. When her lips finally left him he turned her around and lay her back down on the couch.

She was lying there with one leg up over the back, the other hanging down to the floor. Her fur was matted with sweat, and it clung to her, outlining the curves of her breasts and her hips and the muscles of her thighs. Her tail was still full and fluffy though, and the tip waved angrily in the air beside her. She was panting, frustrated at being dropped before reaching orgasm, but still pretending to be afraid of her 'attacker'. "Please, no more." She cried. Then she watched Zac through eyes that were just slits and waited to see what he would do next.

Despite the quick orgasm Zac's cock was still as long and as hard as when it went into her mouth. It twitched as it hung above her as if it could detect the same sweet scent that filled Zac's nostrils. "Oh, we're not done yet." He leered, reaching for her.

Good, she thought to herself. "Oh no!" She cried out loud.

Zac grabbed her by the hips and dragged her to the edge of the couch. She beat at his chest weakly with her small paws. Pulling her ass up on to the armrest Zac forced her legs apart. Then he kept them apart with one arm while he tilted the tip of cock down toward the pink slit showing at the junction of her thighs. He slapped it twice against the swollen lips of her pussy and then tucked the knob inside. Then he pulled on her hips and pushed ward with his own and drove something much hotter and slicker than a daikon radish deep inside her.

This time her gasp was real, but it was not born of fear or pain. No, it was the simultaneous sensations of her clit sliding down that steamy shaft while the tender tissues inside her twat were massaged by the bumps and veins that stuck out from it. Even her cervix responded when the knob of his cock came up firmly against it, sucking greedily as it pulled away in preparation for another assault.

Zac drove himself into her again and again and again. He was drooling like a teenager let loose in a brothel with his daddy's credit card. The sight of her tits bouncing from the shock of each impact and her little face all scrunched up just fueled his hunger. The muscles on his arms and legs stood out even more as he pounded as hard as he could, barely feeling the velvet grip of her twat on his throbbing rod. But even if he wasn't conscious of it, that clutching cunt was having an effect on him. It was causing the next mega load of spooge to be sent to the staging area.

And he was not the only one being affected. The constant friction on so many of her sensitive spots was infusing her tissues with fluids, fluids that had nowhere to go but out, but they needed a trigger. And since Zac was unlikely to change tactics in his current state she would have to be the one to step things up.

Slowly, concentrating on her core and ignoring the waves of pleasure radiating from her groin Akira bent her legs and brought them up beside her to maximize the area of contact between her and him. But even that was not enough. With her knees beside her ribs she extended her legs until her feet were above her head. One toe touched the light switch and the room went dark, but not completely; a green and purple glow was coming in through the uncovered widow. Turning her head, Akira saw that the night sky was filled with shimmering curtains of light. The auspicious Aurora had appeared.

Akira brought her legs inward and back, crossing her ankles behind her head and locking them in place. Now her mons and clit were fully exposed and constantly stimulated by the passage of Zac's cock. And her love canal was lined up perfectly to maximize the contact between cock and cunt. Now she could feel every square inch of him cross every millimetre of her.

For Zac the sight of her spread out below him illuminated in hues of green and purple was finally enough to break his feral mood moods nap him back to reality. Suddenly could feel her silken sheath as it slid along his slippery shaft. Looking down he watched himself disappear and reappear into that magic pink gate several times. His balls began to contract and expand in preparation for the next delivery but, despite a fleeting moment of shame for the way he was treating a female half his size, Zac did not want the feeling to end so soon. He clamped down on the muscles where his balls connected to his body and bit his lip as continued to pump her as hard and as fast as he could.

The dancing lights, her soft cries, the feel of a hard nipple on his palm, they all conspired against him and, after struggling for two minutes against the tide, Zac could resist no more. The pressure built up inside him like the air in front of a rapidly approaching bullet, and when it hit it had much the same effect. Zac's back arched and his body went stiff as he buried his cock balls deep inside her. His meat musket fired a wad of fiery shot and that was the trigger she needed for her fulfilment. Crying out she responded with a flood of hot liquid fire of her own. Zac's cannon continued to fire and, for the first time since college, he raised his head and howled at the ceiling.

Down in the lobby, at the main desk, a snowshoe hare that came in at night to audit the books ted his head as the eerie sound wafted down the stairwell. "Goddam wolves." He muttered, shaking his head as he returned to his accounts.

Up in Akira's room Zac's paralysis had finally broken. He stumbled back, pulling his half-deflated cock from her as he mumbled apologies for his behaviour. But he did not get far with either his apologies or his retreat. With the speed of a snake Akira unhooked her legs and used them to grab Zac about the waist, pulling him back toward her. Then, placing a foot on either side of his shrinking member, she began to massage it back to life.

"Do not be ashamed." She told him. "Now I can write a story for the magazine about how I was ravaged by a great wild wolf under the Northern Lights."

The Aurora shifted jut then, sending a shaft of green light to illuminate the big bed on the other side of the room. "Don't start writing just yet." Zac said as he bent to pick her up and carry her gently across the room to lay her down near the top of the bed. Then he spread her legs as he crawled up between them. "You haven't come to the part where the big bad wolf eats you yet." He said as he lowered his head and extended his tongue.

Hours later, as they drifted off to sleep in each others' arms Zac heard Akira mutter, "You are much better than a radish."

Zac lay awake half the night wondering what the hell she meant by that.

The FOX Academy series:

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

Book IV - Wait for No One

Book V - Dawn of Vengeance

Book VI - Unnatural Selection

Book VII - Rogue Sword

Book VIII - Firestorm

Kain Algorath © Marcus X Light

Joel Grigori © Joel the Lemur

Zachary Ember © EmberWolf

Kyroo Echos © Kyroo Echos

Violet © Gray Muzzle