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For Vincent Sonetti, a Capo in The Chicago Outfit (What you probably call 'The Mafia') his night is about to go from bad to worse as he has a run in with a State Trooper who may be much more than she appears... _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"What the fuck is this?" the otter exclaimed with some irritation at the cascade of blue light suddenly pieced the night

"Cops, boss." Mikey "The Fist" Balduchi, the mountain of a rottweiler seated in the passenger seat said. "You want we should lose em?"

Vincent Sonetti rolled his eyes and rubbed his temples, as if fighting off an impending headache. It was a common thing in Chicago for police officers to stop and harass low level mafia members, most often to collect a small "toll" for traveling in their area. In return, the cops kept away competition and allowed the business to run with minimal interference. Down here in Florida, things were a little different, and Sonetti couldn't believe that this was the case here.

"Nah. Tony." Vincent said to his driver. "Pull it over and see what they want. Then get rid of him. Pay him off, buy him a hooker, whatever you gotta do."

"You got it boss." The bull elk said as he gently maneuvered the big sedan off to the shoulder. The interior of the car was bathed in white light, even with the less than legal window tint, and Tony squinted as he tried to make out the cop in the rear view mirror.

After what seemed like an eternity, there was a soft knock at the passenger side window. Mikey jumped in his seat a little, obviously not expecting the officer to approach on his side, and mashed a meaty index finger on the window switch, sliding the glass down. A female German Shepherd in a Florida Highway Patrol uniform shone a handheld flashlight into the car.

"Good evening gentlemen. Trooper Lannister with the Florida Highway Patrol. How are we doing tonight?"

"We're doing just fine, ma'am" Tony said respectfully. "May I ask why you pulled us over?"

"Sure thing." The trooper replied. "Do me a favor and let me see your license, registration and insurance and I'll be happy to discuss it with you."

"Look, uh, officer." Sonetti piped up from the backseat.

"Trooper. Please." The shepherd corrected.

"Right. Trooper. Sorry. Is there anything we can do, to like, you know, move things along? I have a meeting to get to."

"I'm afraid I don't understand, sir"

"You know, is there maybe something we can put in your pretty little paw there, that would maybe make you forget about why you pulled us over and send us on our way?"

"Yes there is, actually." The trooper said with a wry smile. "Your driver can put his license, registration and insurance card in my paw, and I'll get you two on your way just as soon as I am done.

The smile faded from Sonetti's own muzzle. He wasn't used to being disrespected, least of all by some broad with a badge and something to prove. Still, he had been in the game enough to know to comply as he was ordered to. He'd make sure to get her badge number and get the bitch suspended or fired later. That'd take her down a peg or two. He held up his paws in mock surrender. "All right, you win." Tony, do as the lady asks.

The elk nodded and fished his wallet from the inner pocket of his suit jacket, being careful not to expose the .40 caliber handgun in a shoulder holster to the trooper. He fingered through it and pulled the plastic license from its spot, and handed it to her, then directed Mikey to get the registration card and insurance paper from the glove box, handing those documents to her as well.

The German Shepherd took the documents in her paw and looked them over, her blue eyes flashing back between the papers and the occupants in the vehicle. Finally, she spoke

"All right driver, why don't you step back here to my car with me for a minute."

Sonetti rolled his eyes, brushing a paw through his thick black hair. "Is that really gonna be necessary?"

"I'm afraid so. It will only be a minute. Then you will be on your way, okay sir?"

"May I ask why you're doing this to my driver?" He wasn't used to cops being this insolent in his face, and it was beginning to irritate him.

"That's something him and I will discuss, and the faster he does, the faster I can have you gentlemen on your way. If you continue to interfere, I will make this one of the longest traffic stops you've ever seen, understand?"

Sonetti's blood boiled, but his face remained impassive. He was definitely getting this bitch fired. He held up his hands in mock surrender

"All right toots, you win. Just do what you gotta do."

"Thank you." The shepherd replied, her tone informing the otter that his snide remark did not fall on deaf ears. "Now sir?" She motioned to the bull elk. "Please step back here"

The trooper stepped backwards until her silhouette was obscured by the bright take-down lights on the police car. No longer in earshot, Vincent growled to his driver.

"Tony I don't care what you gotta do, sign the ticket, shoot her in the face, whatever, but get rid of this bitch like yesterday, capice?"

"Yeah, sure thing boss." The elk said, and pulled himself out of the car with a grunt, leaving his tailored suit jacket unbuttoned. The cool air was damp and humid as his Italian shoes clacked somewhat noisily on the macadam surface towards the dizzying wave of flickering blue LED lights. It almost reminded him of the raves he attended back in high school, the only thing missing was the staccato thump of bass. Beyond that, the harsh white light obscured his vision, and the combined effects were almost hypnotic as he fought to move past them.

Tony reached the passenger side of the car. When his vision returned, he saw her leaning against the passenger side door, arms folded over her chest as if she was bored. "Sorry ma'am, my species don't exactly do the best with bright lights." "There's a 'deer in the headlights' joke in here somewhere, but in the interest of professionalism I'll abstain. Now. I want to talk to you about your passenger in the back seat."

Tony's ears flicked forward. "Oh?" "Mm-hmm That's Vincent Sonetti isn't it." It was a statement rather than a question. "Of the Chicago Outfit ?" The use of the more familiar term to describe the American Mafia in Chicago stopped Tony in his tracks. Only someone extremely familiar with organized crime or close to the "family" would use that term offhand like that. "You're pretty smart, miss trooper. A smart girl like you would know better than to agitate a man like that, especially if she knew who he was." The shepherd raised an eyebrow, her cold blue gaze barely visible in the ambient light. "That a threat?" "No no, not at all. I'm just sayin. Boss ain't used to being disrespected, and if I don't get him outta here pronto, he's gonna have my ass. So please, work with me here?" The Trooper turned her head toward him, a smile turning up the corners of her black muzzle. "Forgive me for not being the most amicable to a man known for breaking almost every law on the books. But you're right. I wouldn't want to make the night any harder on you since you've been so cooperative. I...Oops

As the Trooper turned towards Tony, the metal clipboard she had been holding dropped to the grass with a dull thud. For a moment, she stopped and looked at it, as if internally chastising herself, so Tony bent down to pick it up.

There was a flash, a glint of silver and tan in the night, and searing pain racked the elk's neck. His hands instinctively flew up to discover the source of whatever was causing this new sensation, but a powerful force shoved him onto his back. He hit the ground with all the grace of a sack of potatoes, and the sound of a hose spraying permeated the dull hum of the police car's engine. Tony opened his mouth to cry out, but the only noise he could produce was a sickening gurgling sound. His eyes rolled in fear as he came to the realization that it wasn't a hose he was hearing, it was his own blood. Someone had cut his throat. As his vision faded to red, he felt himself being roughly kicked over onto his stomach, and his last thought on this Earth was how sweet the grass smelled.

The German Shepherd knelt atop the body of the elk she had just murdered, removing the knife with a sound that would turn the stomachs of people not intimately familiar with the sounds of death. She looked down at him with pity as she wiped the blade of her knife on his suit jacket, the cervine's eyes forever fixed skyward in a look of pure surprise. The shepherd flipped him over onto his front, so she didn't have to look at that gaze. There were still two people in the car, and if they had witnessed what had just transpired, either one of them could pop out at any second and shoot her dead before she would have a chance to react. So she paused, crouched and waiting. But there was no movement from the black sedan. With a smirk, she stood up, smoothed out the wrinkles in her uniform and walked back to the idling Cadillac.

She knocked on the passenger side window, motioning for the big Rottweiler "Your driver is having some sort of medical issue and I need your help!"

"Are you fuckin..." Were the last words Vincent Sonetti would ever speak. As the infuriated otter turned his head, he found himself nose to nose with... something pink? At the instant his brain registered that it was the business end of a pistol he heard the trooper say

"The Commission sends their regards."

Then there was a bright flash of light. The brightest thing Sonetti had ever seen. Then it was black.

Dora Schutzhund fired one hollow point round directly beneath the eye socket, snapping the otter's head back and spraying bits of skull and brain over the patent leather interior of the car. The body flopped lifelessly in the seat and then slouched to the middle. There really was no need for an 'insurance round' after that. The bullet had blown away half of Vincent Sonetti's head. She knew that there was one more target left, though he was definitely caught off guard and stood, half in the car and half out, the seat belt hanging awkwardly over his shoulder. Dora maneuvered the pink and black pistol to point at him and grinned. There was no mercy in her cold, sapphire stare as she pulled her index finger back. Again, and again, and again, and again, the pistol jumping in her paw as she squeezed its trigger. The Rottweiler slumped to the ground, the pistol he had half managed to remove from its shoulder holster clattering to the pavement. Dora watched intently for signs of life in her two targets, the acrid smell of cordite and the coppery odor of fresh blood now mingling with the smell of mangrove in the night. Satisfied that she was successful in ending both their lives, she holstered her pink pistol, and whistled a children's tune as she collected the shell casings she had expended, then walked back to the patrol car and opened the door, flipping a switch to deactivate the emergency lights and retrieving a can of gasoline from the floorboard. She went back to the mobster's car and began liberally dumping fuel all over the body of Vincent and the Cadillac, with a small trail leading back to where she stood. She took the cigar lighter she had taken off the body of Tony, and lit the trail. There was an almost child-like smile on the shepherd's muzzle as she watched the flames crawl rapidly towards the scene of carnage she had created, feeding off of the flammable liquid, and then the upholstery and anything that would ignite. In a few moments, the black sedan was completely involved, flames licking the air like the forked tongue of a serpent, searching for more fuel.

The glare of headlights approaching snapped Dora's attention to the road, and her paw went to her trusted pistol. She had been given orders not to kill anyone other than the 3 furs she had, and the thought of taking a significant bite out of her contract payout for 'collateral damage' made her grit her teeth. The headlights flashed on and off 3 times, and she relaxed. It was a prearranged signal. Quickly Dora unbuttoned the uniform shirt and tossed it into the patrol car, followed quickly by the duty belt and trousers, leaving the shepherd in a form fitting black catsuit, which she had worn underneath A tan in color Dodge Caravan pulled up next to the police car, and the driver rolled down the window.

"Hey sexy, looking for a ride?" Daniel Yote grinned "I'll give you a ride." Dora shot back, folding her arms and giving the coyote a view of her incredibly form fitting attire. She knew the outfit was one of the coyote's favorites "One second though." She popped the trunk release on the patrol car and tossed a set of keys to a handcuffed, blindfolded and nearly naked domestic feline that lay on his side. "Please don't kill me!" "Then don't give me a reason." Dora growled softly. "The keys to the handcuffs are on that ring somewhere, and once you free yourself the trunk release handle is up here. You're going to wait a good 10 minutes before you do that though. Oh, and thanks for the uniform and the car. You've helped make the world a safer place, Trooper." Dora chuckled and shut the trunk again.

"That's just cold." Yote said as Dora climbed into the passenger seat. "Yote, are you questioning my methods?" She half turned towards him, unzipping the zipper on her suit to expose her cleavage. The coyote grinned sheepishly, shifting the van into "Drive" and accelerating away, eyeing the shepherd out of the corner of his eye. "Well, you can't argue their effectiveness." He said "It was either that, or do the hooker thing again." "I liked the hooker thing." Yote said matter-of-factly "You'd like me in a pair of dirty work coveralls, Daniel. Thought this was one of your favorites though?" She waved a paw in a sweeping motion down her chest." "Oh it is, and if you don't stop that, I'm going to crash into a tree." Dora reached over and playfully patted his muzzle. "Danica is going to meet us at the hotel. After that, you're all mine. Keep it on the road till then, eh stud?"

END

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Something I threw together whilst bored, minimal editing, so please excuse. It had occured to me that y'all have never seen The Shepsisters "in action" aside from kidnapping and "torturing" a certain coyote. So here you go