FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

The AdvAnTAGE Project

By

Mantrid Brizon

Episode 21: Faulty

Turning the knob and pushing open the door, his keys jingle as he steps over the threshold. As he pulls the keys from the lock, his emerald eyes widen in shock. He finds himself staring down the barrel of a gun.

“Woah, there! Take it easy, killer! I’m not a mouse!” Martin nervously jests, looking down at Samara.

She’d managed to silently traverse the hallway and draw her weapon on the man, who enters the old manor unannounced. Rolling her bright blue eyes, she sneers and lowers her pistol, holstering her red and black SCCY CPX-2 and stepping backward. Seeing her close-up for only the third time in as many weeks, Martin’s eyes scan her form. Though her animalistic features are somewhat unnerving to him, his masculine impulses cause him to notice her very voluptuous form, which is made all the more obvious in her nearly skin-tight, black bodysuit.

Ample breasts crown her chest, a slender waist with broad hips displays her femininity, and what, from his angle, appears to be a perfect butt, are in stark contrast with her gray fur, her long, feline tail, ears, digitigrade feet and her short snout. She notices his gaze and snaps her fingers in front of his face, her claws clicking together.

“What?” He shifts his eyes.

“Rrrrr...” She snarls before turning away.

“Hey, Marty.” Connor approaches.

“What’s her problem?” He asks.

“What do you mean?” Connor furls his brow.

“Is she always that friendly?” Martin facetious inquires.

“She just doesn’t like you.” Connor smirks.

Standing before her lover, Samara rests her clawed hands on his shoulders and leans in, stealing a passionate kiss from the shorter Connor, to the amazement of Martin. The tall and somewhat muscular man watches as the diminutive Connor tilts his head back slightly, kissing the cat AdvAnimal without any hesitation. Martin briefly glimpses their tongues caressing, before their lips finally part. She steps aside, standing next to her man and looking over Martin as he stands dumbfounded in the foyer.

“Well, I can see she likes you!” Martin snickers.

“Yeah. She’s my girl!” Connor chirps, looking to Samara and slipping his arm around her waist. “I love the hell out of her!”

“Mmm!” She coos, nuzzling his cheek.

“Right... So, how’s it going?”

“All things considered?” Connor’s smile fades.

“Yeah... How’s he taking it?”

With a wave of his hand, Connor silently urges Martin to follow him further into the house. After shutting and locking the front door, Martin follows behind the odd couple, his eyes staring at Samara’s tight buttocks and her gently swaying tail. He’s quite fascinated, though he isn’t sure exactly why. Making their way into the living room, he finds Louis and Jack seated on the large couch, watching television. Mackenzie sits on the armrest, at Louis’ left, while Alessandra leans against Jack, who sits in the middle, resting her head on his shoulder. Connor takes a seat in a chair, only for Samara to claim her own seat, atop Connor’s lap.

“So, what you’re saying is those tapes show consensual acts?!” A reporter on TV asks.

“What can I say? My client went there to welcome an AdvAnimal and discovered a particular taste. One thing led to another, and she took it upon herself to explore her sexuality. Those videos were made willfully, though they weren’t meant to be released yet.” The lawyer replies.

“So, then, those pornographic tapes are just play acted?!” Another reporter asks.

“Well, the sex acts are real, but the participants are all completely consensual, and those videos were made under contract with a studio, with the expressed purpose of releasing them much, much later. Considering the shaky history of the new species, it was thought best to save those videos for a time when people were more open-minded to such dramatic miscegenation.” The lawyer explains.

“Then those tapes are authentic, but are, in fact, scripted pornography between humans and AdvAnimals?!”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying!” The lawyer chirps.

Lifting the remote control, Louis mutes the TV. He sets the remote atop the coffee table and slumps back on the couch, letting out a little sigh. The look on his face speaks volumes.

“It’ll be okay, buddy. We’ll figure something out.” Jack assures him, draping an arm over Louis’ shoulders.

“I busted my butt all night to release that file... And it doesn’t even matter, does it?” Louis whimpers.

“Well, why not think of it this way? At least you made them work for it! Usually, conspiracies just scare or bribe people into silence, if they don’t kill them outright, but you forced them out of their hole, and they’ve got a very believable story.” Martin remarks, looking between the openly affectionate Connor and Samara, and the more subdued Jack and Alessandra. “If this is anything to go by, there’s going to be a whole new revolution being discussed.”

“I guess...” Louis murmurs, staring at his feet, which he rests on the coffee table. “This still sucks, though. All that work, for nothing.”

Martin furls his brow at the way the mouse AdvAnimal turns toward him. She seems so hesitant, almost afraid, but rests a hand on Louis’ head and gently pets him. The meek Louis turns his head and smiles, comforted by her touch. Mackenzie smiles back.

“Uh-huh... So, where’s D-bag?” Martin asks.

“Donnie’s around here somewhere. He didn’t exactly take the news very well.” Jack replies.

Taking out her phone, Samara slides it open and types with her claws, to the silent astonishment of Martin. No one informed him of the many recent changes since his last visit, the least of which being Connor’s and Samara’s relationship. After waiting for a moment, her phone beeps. She presents the screen to Connor, whose lap she still occupies, her arm draped over his shoulder as she leans against his chest.

“Dining room.” Connor replies, slowly stroking his lover’s side.

Martin makes his way into the hallway, passing the stairs and heading for the dining room at the rear of the manor. He enters to find Donnie seated at the table, an empty plate and used tableware before him and pushed away. With his arms crossed and resting atop the table, he uses his arms as a headrest. Standing behind him is Victoria, the towering, silver furred mare AdvAnimal. She rests her hands on his shoulders, very lovingly rubbing them as he sulks. A chair beside Donnie is pulled out, and it’s clear to Martin that the pair were eating dinner together not too long ago.

Sitting atop the table is an identical phone to Samara’s. Clearly, Samara and Victoria were texting each other. It’s a shock to Martin, who hasn’t set foot in the house since the day the girls arrived, when he fought with his friends about what to do with them. He arrived to deliver the furniture, which his friends asked for the very next day. Aside from his friends, he’d only seen Samara in passing, standing guard as Jack, Donnie, Connor and even Louis dragged the boxes inside, from the rented panel truck which he backed up to the front door; Martin hasn’t interacted with the other females at all.

“Ahem...” Martin clears his throat. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Why? There’s nothing to talk about. It’s obvious, isn’t it? We lost.” Donnie replies, never once lifting his head.

“Aww...” Victoria coos, leans over and kisses Donnie’s head.

After seeing the news of Unifact’s surprise midnight release of the first wave of AdvAnimals, he called the manor. Louis briefly detailed what they’d done, speaking more freely on a secured line. After Donnie came back with the hard drive, Unifact, he said, was likely pressured by Sovereign Six to begin their work early. Undeterred, Louis compiled the data and released the files in a similar fashion to Harriet’s reports, uploading a single, compressed archive to various websites while concealing the file’s origins.

However, in shockingly similar fashion, Sovereign Six beat them to the punch. Acting preemptively, Unifact made a Public Service Announcement disguised as a commercial, hinting to romantic and even sexual human-AdvAnimal relationships and urging people not to judge the “welcomers of AdvAnimals” too harshly. Within a day, lawyers began purposefully bringing attention to the videos in the file, which had only received several hundred downloads by that point.

The corresponding reports were swiftly forgotten as poorly written backstories for scripted pornography. The fact that a half dozen of the celebrities seen welcoming AdvAnimals are adult film stars only added credibility to this story. Unfortunately, due to the less than stellar camera quality, and the similarities between the human men and women in these videos, there’s no way to argue against the subterfuge. Donnie and The Four Horsemen can’t help but wonder if the men and women weren’t chosen because of their similarities to these well-known faces. Had Sovereign Six thought that far ahead?

Only a day after the news media became aware of the videos, a website was created, dedicated to hosting these video files for free, through the lens of Inclusionists and AdvAnimal fetishists. Now, barely a week after they released the files in the hopes of awakening the public to Sovereign Six’s evil, everyone knows but nobody cares. It’s become celebrity gossip, a dirty joke, a strange fetish but a far less distasteful one than most. It didn’t take long at all. If anything, revealing the files has only begun the process of normalizing human-AdvAnimal couples.

Donnie and The Four Horsemen, for all of their efforts these past nineteen years, have not only failed to stop their great nemesis, but seem to have played right into their hands. With a little whimper, Donnie turns his head. Victoria moves around his chair, standing beside him and doing her best to comfort her beloved human, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him so tenderly. Martin finds himself strangely touched by the display, and takes a moment to collect himself. However, when he does, he knows just what he needs to do.

“So... What’s the next move, bro?” Martin asks, taking a seat across from Donnie.

“Next what?”

“What are you cooking up next to get at those sons of bitches? I know you’re thinking of something!” Martin chirps.

“Yeah, right...”

“Yeah, that’s right! So, let’s hear it, bro!”

“Just forget it... There’s no point, anymore.” Donnie says with a heavy sigh.

“I doubt that... What about that base? Louis said you were originally thinking of going there, before he told you to come back with your evidence.” Martin speaks with a startling warmth.

“It doesn’t matter, Marty. I blew it. I had seven days to infiltrate Red Base, and I came here with the hard drive, instead. The codes I have won’t work anymore. It’s done!”

“Come on, Donnie! That doesn’t sound like you! You’re the guy who faked his own death at fifteen, and spent more than half his life fighting a shadow government!”

“Oh, yeah, I faked my death but I also got Old Mr. Hapcock and my parents killed. I probably got that Doctor killed, too. I talked that poor guy into giving me that data, and within two days they’ve beaten us to the punch... All I do is fuck things up, man... I’m tired of it.”

“You’re not a quitter! There must be something else you can do!”

“There’s nothing else, man!” Donnie growls, lifting his head and glaring at Martin. “Now that my evidence, what I worked my whole life to find, has been thoroughly explained away, I might as well just give up! No one is going to listen to me! Hell, I’m doing the very thing that ad told people to prepare themselves for! She’s my girlfriend, now! I moved into her room, I sleep next to her, and we’ve had sex every night for the past week!” He points a thumb at Victoria. “I’m not up for this bullshit anymore...”

Victoria’s eyes widen and her face flushes to the point that Martin can see her fur darkening. Martin is equally shocked. Out of all of them, Donnie harbored the most powerful resentment. To hear him speak of AdvAnimals before the girls’ arrival would be akin to hearing a Klansman at a rally, and yet he’s the second to enter into a relationship with one. It takes him a moment to collect himself.

“This can’t be the end, bro... Can it?” Martin finally asks.

“I fell in love with an AdvAnimal, and I’m thoroughly out of ideas! What else would you call this?” Donnie retorts.

“I don’t know... A rough patch?” Martin shrugs his shoulders.

Picking up her phone, Victoria begins to type. As Martin and Donnie exchange equally optimistic and pessimistic suggestions, she drafts a note. A moment after pressing send, Donnie’s phone beeps. He pulls it from his front pants pocket, opens the message and reads, his lips curling into a little smile.

“What?” Martin asks.

“Vicky... She says, “Please don’t worry, my love. I don’t want to see you so sad. You are as smart as you are caring, and as brilliant as you are passionate. Give yourself time, and I know you will think of something. I’m a lucky girl to have you in my life, and I love you more than anything. You will always have my love, my loyalty and my strength, even though I know in my heart that you are stronger than me. Everything will be alright.” And then she drew a smiley face. She always knows just what to say...” Donnie replies, a softness in his voice.

“Sounds like a smart and caring woman... I’m inclined to agree with her.” Martin nods.

“So... We just bide our time? Come up with a new plan a year from now?” Donnie asks.

“Well, maybe not a year from now, but... Sometime! Wait for a better play before you place your next bet, and until then, don’t be discouraged. Have a few drinks at the bar and wait for the dealer to use a new deck!”

“Thanks, Marty... And thank you, Vicky.” Donnie rises from his seat, turns around and faces her. “I don’t know where I’d be or what I’d do without you. I love you, babe! So much!”

“Mmm!”

She smiles from cheek to cheek and wraps her arms around him, holding her lover and swaying gently from side to side. Even though the visual is startling, the towering mare AdvAnimal and her human lover, Martin finds their obvious emotional connection to be rather adorable. Like Connor and Samara, he cannot help but be happy for his friend, who seems to have achieved a happiness that Martin himself has yet to experience. For all of his girlfriends, Donnie and Connor have found in their AdvAnimals what was lacking in his lovers.

“Well, it’s settled, then...” Martin gets out of his seat. “I’ll keep raking in the Benjamins and you guys come up with your next strategy. In the meantime, take some time off. Kick back a bit. Relax. Enjoy your wife...”

“Huh?!” Donnie and Victoria both look toward him.

“Life! I said enjoy your life!” Martin swiftly replies.

“Heh... You can count on that, Marty.” Donnie says, looking into Victoria’s big, sapphire eyes.

As the pair share a kiss, Martin sees himself out of the room, returning down the hall and back into the living room.

“Alright!” He says with a loud voice. “So, the good news is Donnie hasn’t left the fight! The bad news is that I think you’re going to have to see him every day!”

“Oh, no. What will we ever do?” Jack asks in a sarcastic monotone.

“Does this mean we have to work again?” Connor dramatically whines.

“Yes, it does. Divert some of your power from your video games and forward shields and put it all into fighting the man!” Martin chirps.

“You wouldn’t divert power away from your forward shields when entering a conflict, Marty.” Louis replies.

“Whatever! You know what I mean. Just keep on keepin’ on, and please, don’t keep me out of the loop for so long! I don’t like surprises, unless it’s my birthday. Now... Show a lady to the door?” Martin flashes a cocky grin.

With a little chuckle, Connor pats Samara on the butt, getting her to rise up from her seat. The couple follow Martin as he heads for the front door. Upon reaching the door, Martin pauses, turns around and embraces Connor.

“Okay!” A startled Connor exclaims.

“I’m sorry for pissing you off the last time.”

“It’s alright, bro.” Connor pats Martin on the back.

“You know, I missed you guys.” Martin says, ending the hug.

“Yeah, well... See you later, then. Don’t be a stranger.” Connor replies, before turning and walking away.

Turning his attention toward Samara, Martin clears his throat.

“Look, I, uhm... I know you don’t like me, but... No hard feelings, alright? You make Connor happy, and he deserves that. Just look out for him, okay? He can act tough, but he’s delicate.” Martin speaks softly.

After a short pause, Samara contorts her lips into a combination of a snicker and a smirk. Soon, however, she nods her head, accepting his apology. Leaving the house, Martin walks down the steps and back to his car, his new, 2013 Lexus LS 600h. Climbing into the luxury sedan, he sits in the driver’s seat for a moment. He turns his head and stares at the manor. The thought of returning to his luxury loft, alone, brings a confusing whirlwind of emotions, and the wealthy stock broker finds himself briefly envious of the others.

“Lucky fuckers... All cozy in a nice house with those... Women?”

He sighs and tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling for a moment.

“Okay! I really need to get laid!” He says, shaking his head as he turns the key.

As he drives away, he takes out his cell phone and places a call to his office. Though it may be late, he still has business to attend to.

“Hello?” A man’s voice answers.

“It’s Mr. Anderson. My badge won’t swipe... Again.”

Standing at the security door in the parking garage, the computer programmer waits for a response from the intercom. He can hear the security guard sighing in frustration and his chair creaking as he checks the camera feed.

“Yeah, alright. Turn it in on your way out today and I'll get you a temporary replacement, at least until we can sort out the problem... Damn computers.”

“Will do.” Mr. Anderson chirps.

The door’s buzzer buzzes and a small light above the frame turns green. Pulling open the door and stepping inside, Mr. Anderson waves to the security guard. Seated beside him is a German Shepherd AdvAnimal girl, who looks him over with disinterest as she files her jet-black claws with an emery board. Like many of Sovereign Six’s AdvAnimal employees, she wears a nearly skin-tight, black bodysuit, and is armed with a SCCY CPX-2 pistol with a red frame and black hardware. It sits in a pistol belt that contains a selection of other security related tools and weapons.

“Hey, Patrick. Hi, Patricia.”

The AdvAnimal girl nods in response.

“Running late, again, Mr. Anderson?” Patrick asks.

“I’ve been taking work home with me.”

“Well, try to get some rest. You look like you’ve been partying all night.”

“I wish!” Mr. Anderson laughs.

Seeing the suit-wearing men in sunglasses crossing the end hall, their motions as inhuman as their demeanor, Mr. Anderson glances back at Patrick.

“New Agents?”

“Yeah. They brought in a few extra for some inexplicable reason. I don’t know why and I don’t care. I don’t worry about stuff above my pay grade.” Patrick replies.

“Are any of them named ‘Smith’?” Mr. Anderson smirks.

“I wouldn’t doubt it, Mr. Anderson.” Patrick chuckles. “Have a good day.”

“Likewise. See you two, later.”

Making his way down the hall, he finds himself looking upon a large room filled with cubicles. This is where Mr. Anderson has worked for almost a year. Something catches his eye. At the far end of the cubicles is an AdvAnimal girl, but she isn’t dressed like the others. Instead of a tightly fitting, black bodysuit, she wears a very elegant, black dress and a red cardigan. As she walks across a small corridor that runs between a row of cubicles, he sees that she wears special high-heeled shoes that fit her large, paw-like feet. The snow-white Siberian Husky with black hair pulled into an unusual ponytail stands out like a sore thumb.

As he walks toward his cubicle, he watches the AdvAnimal entering an office. Passing by the door, though well across the room, he glances inside to see her standing before an Agent with pale skin and blond hair, that’s brushed back. He speaks to her very softly and rests a hand on her furry cheek, making her smile. As she flashes a toothy grin, he leans even closer and plants a very passionate kiss on her lips, his hands resting on her hips as she throws her arms around his neck. They’re certainly close.

After finishing the kiss, just as Mr. Anderson reaches his cubicle, she turns around and leaves the office, while her partner, an Agent he’s never seen before, also leaves the office and walks in the opposite direction. Taking off his messenger bag, Mr. Anderson sets it on the floor, beside his waste basket, takes a seat at his desk and turns on his computer and monitor.

“Hey, Kenny. How’s it going?” A co-worker stands and leans over his cubicle wall.

“Eh...”

“Wow, you look like shit!”

“Thanks, Rick...” Mr. Anderson glares.

“Sorry. I just couldn’t help but notice... Are you feeling alright, Ken? Maybe you should take a sick day or two? You can do that, you know.”

“No, that’s alright.”

“Are you sure? With those bags under your eyes, I don’t imagine you’re sleeping very well.” Rick persists.

“It’s just some personal shit, okay? Don’t worry about it.”

“Alright. Whatever.” Rick murmurs.

“We both know you just want me gone so you don’t have to put up with my Dub Step.” Mr. Anderson smirks.

“Hey, can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“It helps me think!”

“You know what else might help you think? A good night’s sleep. Or maybe some companionship!” Rick chirps.

“That last one kind of requires a companion, and those aren’t as easy to come by for some people.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve decided to go through with it...” Rick murmurs.

“Go through with what?” A perplexed Mr. Anderson furls his brow.

“The voucher program. I’m gonna do it.”

“What?! You seriously want to bring an AdvAnimal into your house?!” Mr. Anderson raises his eyebrows in surprise.

“I know we have to wait for the ‘Elite 5’ to go first, but they’re getting them out of the door so fast; once they get the first five-thousand - all of those actors and musicians and rich politicians - we’ll finally get a turn. I hear average citizens are going to be able to join a wait list by summer.”

“...”

“Don’t give me that look... I get lonely, too, alright!” Rick snaps. “I’d rather have a cat girl, a bunny lady or even a dog woman than none at all.”

“I guess that’s one way to look at it. Companionship is companionship, huh?”

“That’s right! ... Don’t judge me.”

“I wasn’t but...” Mr. Anderson leans closer and speaks in a hushed voice. “But what about the problem?”

“What about it?”

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“Nah!” Rick chirps and shakes his head. “I’m sure they’ll resolve that long before it bothers me! Anyway... We’d better get to work before the slave drivers walk by. See you at lunch?”

“Sure...”

With Rick returning to his chair, his fingers typing away, Mr. Anderson prepares himself for another day. He glances at the security cameras in the corner, clandestinely watching them for a moment. He reaches into his messenger bag and pulls out a few light snacks, but as he does, he also palms a thumb drive that’s no bigger than his thumbnail. He sets a small bag of Cheetos next to his computer, which rests on its side and acts as the base for his monitor. As he does this, he slips the thumb drive into a free USB port.

In one fluid motion, he slips his fingers into the bag and pulls out a few Cheetos, munching on the cheesy snack. He continues to work, playing his Dub Step music on a portable MP3 player and speaker system, which he so politely turns down for Rick’s benefit. After a few hours of work, he’s finally built up the nerve to do what he’s been planning on doing for months. This is a secret that he cannot keep anymore. The people need to know the truth.

He leans back in his chair and spins it around, stretching his arms as though they were sore. He uses this opportunity to glance at all four of the security cameras. With a very brief window of opportunity, he turns his chair around, opens the Explorer program and carefully selects an entire folder. He begins the copy and minimizes the windows before the cameras see exactly what he’s doing, returning to his work. His heart races and he makes consistent typos as he tries to resume his work as though everything was normal. This spy stuff isn’t quite as easy as he thought it was going to be.

Finally, after an hour of work, and with no Agents or security coming to question him, he takes another opportunity to carefully glance at the security cameras. When he believes the coast is clear, he pulls the thumb drive and palms it, before throwing away the empty bag of Cheetos. As he does, he carefully slips the thumb drive into his messenger bag. A bell rings, and he chuckles at the familiar sound. It always reminds him of being in school. It’s officially lunchtime. All of the workers pause their work and rise from their seats. Mr. Anderson does the same, slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder.

“So, what do you think they’ll be serving all of the good little girls and boys today? Maybe it’ll be pizza surprise? Oh! Maybe it’s sandwich day? I could go for mac and cheese or even chicken nuggets.” Rick teases, walking alongside his co-worker.

“I’ll see you there, man. I have to use the can.” Mr. Anderson chuckles.

“Don’t take too long, Kenny. I may want to trade something for your chocolate milk.” Rick smirks.

Passing the cafeteria, Mr. Anderson crosses a hall, briefly startled by the sight of the solid white, Siberian Husky AdvAnimal, who leans against the wall, just beyond the corner.

“Erm... Hi.” He says with a head nod.

The female AdvAnimal nods back. He continues down the hall, his heart beating faster and faster. Peeking into a nearby office, she motions inside, something Mr. Anderson sees as he glances over his shoulder. Thoroughly terrified, his palms begin to sweat and his heart beats so fast and with such force that he wonders if it’ll break through his ribcage. Turning around a corner, he passes the bathrooms and begins to run. The door to the parking garage isn’t far.

He turns another corner, only to look back and see the blond-haired Agent standing beside his elegantly dressed AdvAnimal partner. He touches an earpiece and speaks, and within seconds, an alarm begins to sound. Just as the alarm blares, Patrick, the security guard, buzzes someone in from the parking garage. The confused woman holds the door open as she looks up at the ceiling, a hand covering an ear as she winces from the painfully loud noise.

“Ahh!” She shrieks as Mr. Anderson barrels through her, knocking her to the ground.

“What the fuck?!” Patrick jumps out of his seat.

The Agent and his partner race after the fleeing man, who ducks down and hides in the parking garage. He lifts his head and takes a peek, only to see the Agent holding a pistol. His head slowly turns as he scours the area for the man.

“He must be here, Kris. Be careful.” The Agent speaks to her.

She nods her head, only to see Mr. Anderson peeking over a door, looking at them through windows of someone’s empty car. She draws her gun, a large, silver revolver she’d kept in a shoulder holster that’s tucked beneath her left arm and hidden by her ruby red cardigan. Without any hesitation, she fires. BANG! BANG! As the Agent joins in, Mr. Anderson scrambles away on his hands and knees, the glass shattering and bullets flying.

“Oh my god! I think they killed Kenny!” Patrick exclaims, standing in the doorway.

“Go back inside and initiate a lock down of the facility, then await our return.” The Agent speaks with a cold monotone.

“Y-yes, sir...”

Patrick and Patricia obey the Agent, who holds up his smoking Jericho 941. They close the door and the light turns red, indicating that it’s locked. Moving as quietly as he can, Mr. Anderson surprises himself, making it over one-hundred-yards and reaching the ramp to the next level of the car park. He slithers beneath the bars and drops down to the ground level, where he’s parked, all without being noticed. He can hear the distinct footfalls of the Agent and his partner. Her heels click loudly on the polished concrete, while his dress shoes make a heavier clopping sound.

Slowly and quietly shuffling behind some cars, Mr. Anderson eventually finds himself looking upon his own vehicle. Luckily, he drives a dually Ford F-250, complete with a ram bar. He’d swapped vehicles two months ago, in the event that he had to drive through the security gate at the entrance to the parking garage. It was a clever precaution, and he only had to endure two weeks of jokes at his expense; everyone liked to say that he was compensating for something.

He listens for a moment, no longer hearing the footfalls of either individual. Getting down on the floor, he dirties his button-up shirt as he looks beneath the cars, trying to see if they’re standing nearby. Believing that the coast is clear, he quietly pulls out his keys and prepares to make a run for it. After a few deep breaths, he commits. What else does he have to lose? Scrambling to his feet, he races across the two-lane street that winds through the parking garage. His truck is only feet away. BANG!

“Ahh-god!” He cries out in pain.

Mr. Anderson stumbles, dropping his keys and clutching his side as he falls to the ground. He lands with a hard thud, rolls over and looks down at a wound in his right side. It bleeds quite profusely, horrifying the young man.

“Oh, no... Oh, fuck...” He whimpers, clutching his gunshot wound.

He hears the clicking of heels, only to turn his head and see the AdvAnimal sliding off of the hood of a car. She’s been following him the entire time, and tricked him into feeling safe enough to flee. With smoke billowing from the barrel, vent ports and the cylinder of her revolver, she extends her arm and points the weapon at him. Suddenly, her ears twitch.

“Kris? Krystal?!” He hears the Agent’s voice calling out with a startling amount of emotion. “Krystal?! Are you alright?!”

Racing around a corner, the look of worry on the Agent’s face is shocking. It’s the first sign of humanity he’s seen or heard from any of these suit-wearing men. Krystal lowers her weapon and smiles, only to turn toward him. The Agent stands before her, looking her over. He’s visibly relieved to see that it’s Mr. Anderson who was shot.

“You scared me, babe.” He says, slipping an arm around her slender waist and pulling her closer.

“Mmm!” She closes her eyes and smiles so innocently as they embrace.

“Sh-she... She shot me...” Mr. Anderson chokes out. “Krystal shot me!”

“Of course she did, Mr. Anderson. You thought you could steal Sovereign Six’s property.” The Agent replies in a calm voice, slowing turning to him and holstering his pistol. “Did you think we didn’t monitor the computers?”

The Agent walks closer to the wounded man, before squatting down and grabbing his messenger bag by the strap.

“Or leave any blind spots? Those cameras have wide-angle lenses, Mr. Anderson. We were wondering how long it was going to take you to act. You’re braver than we thought.”

“You... You knew?” Mr. Anderson speaks slowly through the intense pain.

“Of course we did. Who did you think you were working for? We’re not as incompetent as the Government, Mr. Anderson.”

Yanking off the messenger bag, the Agent rises to his feet and returns to his partner, who looks down at her victim, a little smirk on her face.

“You can’t, you know...”

“Hm?” The Agent looks back.

“You can’t hide it forever... It isn’t possible.” Mr. Anderson speaks through labored breaths.

“Don’t you think so?” The Agent asks in his cold monotone.

“This problem... With the AdvAnimals... It’s not... Something you can... Keep hidden... Eventually... People are going... To realize they’re faulty... Ugh... And then it won’t matter! ... Heh... You probably should’ve... Just let me go... And get it over with.” Mr. Anderson says while clutching his bleeding wound.

Turning toward his partner, the Agent strokes her cheek and then kisses Krystal very lovingly on her lips.

“I’m going to find the janitor. Will you be okay, Krystal? Can you deal with him on your own?” The Agent asks with a hint of worry in his voice.

“Mmhhmm!” She nods.

“Good. I’ll see you upstairs.”

Walking away from Krystal and the wounded Mr. Anderson, the computer programmer realizes that his time is up. She watches the Agent walking away, looking him over with admiration in her eyes. Shifting her gaze toward Mr. Anderson, her smirk returns and she very slowly and methodically raises her weapon. Unable to resist one final moment of defiance, Mr. Anderson raises a hand and proudly extends his middle finger.

“Fuck you, Krystal.”

“Heh.”

Aiming her weapon, she promptly shoots him in the head. As his body falls limp, she twirls her revolver on her trigger finger, pulls open her cardigan with her free hand and slips the weapon into her holster. Turning and walking away, the clicking of her heels echo throughout the quiet car park. She hums a little tune as she walks swiftly to catch up to Agent Sharpe, her partner and lover.