The Miami Broncos

Chapter 1: Seaside

Written by Francois Guint-Riel (FGR)

My tired eyes watched the sun set over the Atlantic, the usual colorful explosion filling the sky as more of the solar orb descended into the waters. I hadn’t bothered to dress since morning, and stayed in my room at the Family mansion, brooding about the recent events. Kaline Luther, the Don of our clan, the Miami Broncos, had been assassinated a month ago, and his son as well as my best friend, Ulrich Luther, had left the scene, refusing to take his place. The panther had grown in the Family, like me, but he’d remained more detached from the business, and didn’t want to get involved in it, keeping on his way to enter the world of finances and tourist real estate. I missed his company, plenty much so. We’d been like brothers since I was adopted by Kaline, sometimes more, and his sudden departure, as well as what amounted to the loss of the only paternal figure in my life was a hard blow to digest. Truth be told, I hadn’t done so yet, not would I for some time. I’d already lost my biological parents in a car accident, from which I’d barely pulled out myself, though at times I wished that I’d gone with them…

I managed a heavy sigh as I got up on my paws, trying to put the burden of my grief aside for a while. I knew where Ulrich was, and tonight was as good as any night to go pay him a visit. I wasn’t sure how he had taken it, and the cat didn’t show his pain that openly unless it had eaten him through. It ran in my kangaroo blood, perhaps, but I wore my heart on my sleeve, and didn’t have that undefeatable strength. In short, I really needed a hug. A quick shower later, I was in my olive twills and trademark white tee, and putting my Inglis under the back of my shirt the personalized leather holster I’d made for it. I’d gotten so used to hiding my firearm there that after I while I figured I might as well make it a comfortable wear, and gotten a few feet of tanned hide to make it, with a pressure-button for retainer. All and all, it had served me well on the few occasions I’d had to use it. I closed the door of my place and walked down the stairs, exchanging nods with the guard standing at the top flight, who looked glad that I’d decided to leave the confines of my personal prison. I left the mansion in my car, a sleek black sport I’d put a bit of money on, especially security systems and a bit of armoring in the doors, plus the token bulletproof windows, so that I could use it to taxi some of the others around if they needed a ride. I had a heavy foot, that wasn’t a question, but a majority of the police force new better then to pay attention to me, mostly because their superiors were taking payoffs from us on a routine basis and their work would avail to little, save the humiliation of a long talk about keeping their hands off us. Ulrich was near the college where he studied, in a tower apartment he’d been able to afford for himself. I’d offered him another place, in a high-end condominium, but he’d politely declined, insisting he was fine with what he had. He had a good heart, that kitty, but he paid more attention to others then he did to himself, which was perhaps one of the reasons why I worried for him. If I’d found Kaline’s loss hard, what bout him?

I pulled into the parking of the tower, grabbing a ticket from the dispenser before braking in place in one of the visitor spots, pulling the parking brake out before leaving the vehicle and letting its dull horn sound once as the security measures engaged. A satellite-positioned warning to the company and three cans of tear gas awaited anyone who tried to open the locks, which I’d replaced by Medeco tumblers, so good luck to the one who tried. I waltzed into the lobby of the tower and buzzed Ulrich’s number, the cat’s deep, purring voice answering seconds later.
-Who is it, asked the cat.
-Hey Attila! Guess who?
-Jumpy? Come on up, ‘roo boy! I saw your car outside.
-Can’t pull a quick one on you, can I?
-Cats are fast, panthers are faster! Get in here.

The buzzer sounded again as the doors unlocked and I passed through them to the elevators. It felt good to hear Ulrich again, and in good spirits too, calling me by my surname Jumpy. My real name was Vincent, but since I was a ‘roo, I’d gotten the name of Jumpy. Ulrich was such a handful when he was young that his father called him Attila, and the name stuck to him as well. It fitted him well though. He was strong, proud, but cared for those around him, and defended them tooth and nail. Well, fang and claw in his case, perhaps. I didn’t have time to step out of elevator cab before I felt a mass slam me against the wall and heard a hard purring as I realized Ulrich had been waiting for me and had pounced on me as the doors had opened. I hugged the cat, laughing that he’d done well and captured his poor, shivering prey.
-You got me kitty, I said, rubbing Ulrich’s longhaired head. You look great! Things are good with you?
-Good enough, answered the panther, giving me a bat on the shoulder with retracted claws. And at the mansion, is everything under control?
-Badger’s doing his best to keep things together, I replied. Things are getting better, slowly but surely. ‘Course…
-What?
-I missed ya, you silly cat, I said, hugging him again. How about we go for a cold one, eh? My treat.
-Right behind you, Jumpy. Come in for a sec, I’ll get my things.

I followed Ulrich back to his apartment, a corner block with a nice view of the campus, but looked like the perfect bachelor pad, though better kept. The panther was a housebroken gentleman, after all, and had his mannerisms when it came to his room. Even back at the mansion, I remembered how he had the best-kept one of all the residents, and once, a visiting Don from San Francisco had asked if Kaline had a daughter, only to get a vexed stare from Ulrich in return when he’d realized his mistake.
-Wow, you still live like a bubbly chick, eh?
-It’s clean, if that’s what you’re saying, replied Ulrich. All right, I’ve got everything, let’s get gone!
-So what are you packing these days, I asked, patting my own holster.
-What else, said the panther, pulling a faded H&K pistol, it’s steel well-worn by use.
-Kaline’s, I said, recognizing the weapon.
-I don’t know, maybe it’s stupid, sighed the cat as we came out of the elevator. I just... I just can’t let go right now. Maybe never, who knows.
-I... I understand, Ulrich, I do. I’m in no better state, believe me.
-Sorry I left so quickly, Jumpy, said the Don-heir, looking at me with wetted eyes. It was selfish. I didn’t want anyone to see me cry, I guess. A Don doesn’t cry, he goes out and avenges his own.
-About that, kitty. Badger found the hitman and had him taken out, over in Key West. I overheard it this morning...
-That was my responsibility, added Ulrich, his black jaw trembling as the fact hit him. I couldn’t even take care of that. God damn, Jumpy, what am I doing? I can’t even do the smallest thing I grew up with in mind. I’ve been moping around without a clue, ‘roo, like I lost every last shred of my mind. I didn’t want to be a Don, but I should at least have done something...
The panther hunched over against my car and sobbed like a calf, no longer able to hold back his emotions. It had been years since I saw him like this, since his first kill when he was a kid. I walked over and held him as I let some of my own pain out. Kaline may have adopted me, but Ulrich was blood of his blood and I was certain I could never match the terrible anguish he was feeling. The panther slowly stood straighter, putting his head against mine as we tried to calm down.
-We’re in bad shape, I said with a hint of humor in the comment. I really need a little something right now.
-Oh, you and me both, chuckled Ulrich. You drive?
-Unless you want to try, but this is my baby here.
-Then you’d better keep the keys.
As I started down the street, Ulrich signaled for me to stop as he saw a figure walking on the sidewalk towards his tower. At first glance it looked like an ungulate, and as I pulled over, I let my eyes settle on the creature, a fine, tall gazelle about the panther’s age. Ulrich got out of the car and invited her to come with us, and with the utmost courtesy, I got out to push my seat forwards and let her into the back seat. As she strapped in, the cat introduced her to me with a familiar tone.
-Jumpy, this is Cassa, a friend from the college. She’s in the same program as me. Cassa, this is Jumpy, nothing short of my kid brother from the Family.
-A pleasure madam, I said, slowing the car enough to be able to shake her hand. I take it you were coming to see the kitty cat?
-I was, replied the gazelle. So you’re also in the Family, Jumpy? Did you go to college already?
-Hem, well I’ve had a different education then you, perhaps. You hardly have any courses to become a point man in any institution I know of.
-Point man?
-When things get very complicated, I’m the one that call in, I answered. I of course take my position with the utmost professionalism and accomplish my work without any excessive measures.
-I think I understand, stated Cassa. Where are we going?
-An oasis in the desert, I said with a grin. Remember the Metropolitan, Ulrich?

We drove down into the heart of the city to a bat that was owned and operated by the Family as it would be, where we could be sure to be left to our conversations without interruption or anyone overhearing any details that we didn’t want them to. It wasn’t a huge place, but the high-end establishment carried some of the rarest bottles in the state and was frequented by the top crust of the locals as well as any passing members of our clan. The doorman opened the door for me as I got out, and I passed the favor on to Cassa while Ulrich was coming out the other side on his own, though his appearance brought a certain pause to the people at the bar. After all, it had been weeks since any news had come of him, and some of those unacquainted with him had been wondering if something had happened to him. One of the attendants showed us to a private second story salon, where he had two bottles of fine whiskey brought up, along with crystal glasses. As a show of trust, he also took a sample of each of the bottles, as to prove to us that they had not been spiked. With the gesture taken care of, he left our company to return to the first floor, Ulrich looking better already as he slumped down in the leather sofa and poured himself a full dose of the 35-year old blend, sipping it with a contempt smile. Cassa tried the other variety, taking a small bottom at first, and with a whine of surprise, poured herself more before settling in. She didn’t look half bad, I thought. Good job, Ulrich...

-You both look like you had a bad spot tonight, said the gazelle, reading into the panther’s eyes before mine. Is it about your father?
-Did you tell her, or does she have a bit of gypsy in her blood, Ulrich?
-She my closest friend, ‘roo. Sometime I think she knows me better then I do.
-Don’t exaggerate, kitty, laughed Cassa. What’s your position with Kaline, Jumpy?
-I was adopted as Ulrich’s brother when I was four, I said. Since he passed on, things have gotten hard to deal with, not only emotionally, though.
-What do you mean, asked the leopard.
-Well, though Badger took over de facto when you left, you have to understand that not having you jump in made us look in a bad position, vulnerable. The Jeremies covered us a bit from the North, but we had some trouble from down south.
-Another Family?
-No, worst, unfortunately. A group of bikers from further up the coast is trying to set up shop here, and a few of their members made aggressive moves on us. I even had to go out and eliminate one of their guys who had been surveying the mansion last week. All and all, things are getting pivotal. I’ll take care of it though. I already have an idea what to do to whom to get things to blow over without too much action.
-I didn’t know, muttered Ulrich.
-Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up. It’s...
-It’s..?
-Nothing, I sighed with another drag of the whiskey to chase the comment down.
-It’s Family business, completed the panther, understanding where I had been going with my sentence. Jumpy, bro...
-Ulrich, you made a far better choice for yourself then anyone could have suggested, I stated as I put down my glass and rested my hand on his shoulder. Look at me, all right? What will I ever be, eh? I’ll be a counter-assassin, a gunsmith maybe, at best a businessman in the circles that the Family operates. Nothing I will ever do will be known to anyone outside the walls of the mansion, and when I go, that’s it, poof! No more ‘roo, and no one will be the wiser. You have a chance to do more then that, Ulrich. Take it, for God’s sake. No regrets.
-But I do...
-Cassa, can you slap him for me? I can’t reach.
-I understand though, said the leopard. You’re right, Jumpy. I chose this, and I have to live with it.
-Bingo, now you’re talking sense! Go out and carpe diem, Ulrich. Maybe one day you’ll still come back and take the chair, who knows? For now though, you have your college to finish and a career to start. If you need a hand, we’re here, all right?
-You’re not just a point man, commented Cassa, you’re a philosopher, Jumpy.
-It’s part of the job, I guess...

We talked for a good hour until we’d emptied the decanters and took out leave, returning to the car. I dropped the pair off at Ulrich’s driving back to the mansion with a stiffer resolve then I’d had in a good while. I was right, after all. I was a damn good point man, after all. I whistled with the radio as I pulled into the gates of the fortified domain, parking it with a nice kick of the brakes. A guard came to verify my identity summarily then nodded and waved a good night to me, though threw a bit of information to me at the same time.
-Jumpy, you might be interested to know that the governor will be paying the city a visit tomorrow, and that his car’s scheduled to pass in front of here around nine.
-I’ll keep an eye out, I said. Thanks, Bolo.
-That’s a real, real nice car...
-Take it for a spin, but keep the hubcaps on, I said, passing him the keys before heading in.

I woke up around eight with a wide yawn, kicking out of bed with my powerful legs. Being a ‘roo did have some nice perks, after all; Strong legs, great hearing and some interesting...equipment. I walked downstairs to get some breakfast from the kitchens, a three-cheese omelet with leftover spaghetti sauce, my personal specialty. I listened in to the news radio, incidentally covering the arrival of the governor. Our place was in the middle of a nice stretch of beachfront property, and one of the richer sides of town, which made it part of any parade route. Over the radio I could hear the characteristic sounds of a helicopter, which confirmed that the cavalcade would be passing by soon. Intent on not missing the show, I ran back upstairs to the windowed rotunda at the front of the mansion where I’d have a great view, joining a few guards and friends who were already there. A few groups of people lined the streets to greet their elected official and at other mansions, the inhabitants were doing the same thing as us. To kill time, I scanned the scene with my special considerations in mind. Where would I be if I wanted a good shot at the good man? Rooftops, tree stands...

The second category made an alarm ring in my head as I saw a figure in the front gardens of a place three doors down, under a pine tree. I borrowed a pair of cheap binoculars from one of the guards who been taking in the tableau with a giddy smile, himself curious as to what I’d seen. With the magnifying tool, I checked my shadow, and my heart jumped as I made out the form of a barrel poking out from the profile, itself in a dark gilly suit.
-Shit, assassin, I cried out. Take these, I have to get something.
-But the governor will be by anytime now, commented the guard, taking his goggles back.
-Reason more to hurry, then, eh?

I ran with hell-sent speed to the armory in the basement, fumbling with my keys until I opened one of the cabinets and took out a Dragunov sniper and slammed in a clip, maybe too hard, but I didn’t care for it’s maintenance right now. All that mattered was that I wasn’t too late to stop the irreparable from coming to pass. Back in the rotunda, which was after all the best place in the mansion to take my shot, I opened a windowpane and poked my rifle out, training on the form. The problem with gilly suits, and one of the reasons why shooters used them, was that if you were counter-sniping them, you couldn’t tell where their head was with decent precision. I had a 10x scope to work with though, and a single wiggle was enough to tell me what I needed to know as I caught a glance of the governor’s car just up the road. He had his shot, and so did I. The distinctive register of the Russian-made rifle sounded as I pulled the trigger, and in the scope, I saw my shot land true two hundred meters away, collapsing the assassin’s skull. As soon as the sound had echoed out of existence, policemen and security agents scrambled in the vicinity to try and find the origin of the shot, the helicopter joining in the search as it made low passes to narrow down the possibilities. Two agents spotted the freshly slaughtered body of the would-be shooter, and looked straight in my direction. I withdrew the Dragunov, but the possibility was still there that they’d seen me. Nonetheless, I felt a certain relief as the limousine passed in front of the mansion at top speed, hurried along by the incident into safer quarters. Badger, who had been downstairs at the time, rocketed into the room, grabbing my shoulder and questioning me as to what had happened.
-Who did you shoot, he asked. What was this about?
-You see that tree stand right over there, Badger, at the 57? Look at the pine tree.
-Shit, that’s... he ho, bad news. What’s your take on this?
-Simple, I replied. The bikers wanted to shoot the governor and pin it on us. Where’s Tracks?
-Right here, called the deer, also coming up the stairs into the room.
-Did anyone take this contract?
-Not that I know of, this must be a domestic job. Stupid, for such a high-profile thing, but no one on our team would’ve taken it. It’s kind of obvious why they wanted to do it this way...
-Still, I’m almost certain that they know were the shot came from, I stated. Look, someone’s coming at the gates.
-I’m counting on you, Jumpy, said Badger. I don’t know what you’ll do, but it better be good.
I nodded and giving the rifle to Tracks with a recommendation to put it away under lock and key, I hurried to the gates to meet the state agents. The men were dressed in loose suits, as their kind normally was, and delightfully conspicuous from the rest of the crowd. I took a pleasant, relaxed tone as I addressed them, taking my good citizen approach to the situation.
-Good morning gentlemen, what can I do for you?
-Please come with us sir. We have orders to bring you back to our HQ.
-Why so? Did I do something?
-Don’t worry, sir. We know what happened, our bird saw everything.
-I see. In that case, can I just tell my friends where I’m going?
-Please do so, said one of the agents, passing me a cellular phone.

I took the object and called the number in the kitchen, where I knew Badger would have been waiting. I gave him a one-sentence explanation without a reply and gave the phone back to the agent before following them to a back sedan outside the gates. I had a sense when things were getting shitty, but it wasn’t telling me that I was in trouble. Only I’d have to be walking on eggshells for a while...

The vehicle pulled into the parking of a downtown hotel, one of the better establishments that the feds preferred to use for VIPs, and the men signaled for me to get out with them as we took a service entrance into the building. I didn’t say a word, but I could tell that they were just as stressed as I was, and the sooner we got to their haven of refuge, the better we’d all feel. As soon as we got out on the sixth floor, I caught sight of three more of the agents, who acknowledged us as we passed in their midst. I put on a polite smile as we entered a suite, where the agents and their friends had set up their command post, from what I could tell. There was a wealth of communications equipment in portable cases, as well as a small armory in one of the bedrooms, containing a few candies wouldn’t have minded to get my hands on. A senior-looking officer, a black-mane lion, came out of the very room and took a look at me before asking one of the men who’d escorted me to search me.
-I have a handgun at the back of my pants, I said, saving the men some trouble.
-Thank you, said the officer as the agent took my sidearm and passed it down to be put in the armory. Your cooperation is very appreciated. If you’d come this way, we’ll talk a bit.
-Of course, I said, following the officer to the suite’s office, where he offered me a seat and a bottle of water.
-My name is agent Yuri, of the state department.
-I’m Vincent Reeds, a pleasure and honor to meet you.
-Mine as well, Vincent. Now, started the officer, putting his hands together on the desk, I’ll speak my peace from start to finish because I’m damned confused.
-What about?
-Your little sniping match this morning. You see, we received this letter two days ago, said Yuri, passing me a transcript. It’s apparently from your Family, which we know about, by the way, but that’s besides the point. It reads that you’ve had it with the police poking their noses where they shouldn’t be and if they didn’t back off, you’d take it out on the governor. We took it to heart, and the only reason why there was a bird out there today as to keep tabs on your place.
-We’re flattered, but I’ll be just as honest, we’d never send this kind of message, and we have no problems with the police.
-I gather as much right now, but what I want to know is if you’re aware who did?
-A group of bikers from the coast, the Viking Dogs, have been trying to muscle their way into the city and have been doing everything under the sun to take us out. This was meant to put the blame on us so you boys would take us down. To put it simply, we had a common enemy out there this morning.
-Our intelligence can really suck sometimes, grunted the lion. So it really wasn’t you...
-Nope. After all, I voted for the man, I said with a shrug.
-Thank you for that, said a voice behind me.
-Governor, called Yuri, standing at attention. I didn’t expect you to come.
-At ease, Yuri, at ease, lad. I wanted to meet the brave soul who saved my life this morning, said the hawk I’d seen on posters for the last three years. The days of Al Capone and Tommy-guns but be far away for a state official to be rescued by the mob.
-Families aren’t what most people think them to be, I said.
-Apparently not! What’s you name, son?
-Vincent, Vincent Reeds, a pleasure, sir.
-Please, I’m just another bird here, laughed the hawk. Call me Daniel, if you could. I overheard what you two were saying, if you don’t mind me confessing. Now, I know Families like yours are all over, and I respect that in a way, but bikers and their kind I don’t want to have in my backyard.
-Still, there they are, sir.
-I know, I know, sighed the hawk, sitting aside me. Yuri, Vincent, what I’ll say here doesn’t leave the room, all right?
-Yes sir, called the lion.
-I would rather know that Families control the city’s illegal or shadier activities then biker any day. Because of this, I’m making your Family an offer, Vincent. Would it be possible, without police interference accounted for, for you and you alone to eliminate them?
-Yes, I said with a confident air. I can’t give you a perfect time frame, but I’d say within the month, every last one of them will have been chased out.
-Then I’ll have the mayor give you a pied piper’s white card to get rid of the rats, grinned the hawk. Yuri, you and your team will stay here and support our kangaroo here.
-Yes sir, said the lion, turning to me. If there’s anything we can offer to evict them, tell me and I’ll personally make sure you get it.
-Well... was that a R93 in the room next door?
-Police issue with full tactical package, right out of the box, smiled the feline, and apparently yours now. How about we go for a bite and we talk about your ideas, hmm? I might be able to add to them.
-Sounds good, I said with a grin. I never refuse a free meal from a friendly face, especially one who buys me toys.
Yuri gave a chuckle at the comment as the Governor and his personal guards took their leave and whisked off to whichever suite he was staying, giving us the opportunity to go to the staff cafeteria, as he called the room. As a matter of fact, one of the suites down the hall was nothing short of that, with three long tables end to end covered with a buffet for the staff, a few of whom were filling their plates and taking a warm meal down after a nearly disastrous mission still breathing down their necks. I took some of the noodle salads and a few hot wings, my personal favorite in any buffet while the lion took an all-meat plate, quite obviously. With our selections done, we stole two chairs from the adjoining dining room and got down to the guts of the matter.
-So you said you had a plan, Vincent, said Yuri. May I ask what that included?
-Basically it was in two phases, I started, chomping down on a wing. First, I find their clubhouse, and drive in a fuel bomb to show them a good time. That tells them someone doesn’t like them, and makes them mad. Those muscle-for-brains types get angry fast, and make very dumb decisions when they’re mad. That also means that their leaders start getting more paranoid, and therefore, they turn their places into strongboxes.
-And that’s a good thing?
-Oh, in a way, yes. No one comes in, no one comes out, but inside, they feel like God and completely invincible. Then that latte Rutger comes in, and pop goes the weasel, if you understand. Then it’s a question of cleaning up the leftovers.
-So you think they only have one clubhouse right now, underlined Yuri.
-We’ve been keeping tabs on them since they got here, I replied. Believe me, we try and keep on top of these things.
-I’ll take your word for it. So what was your idea for the fuel bomb?
-Oh, simple. I thought of hijacking a tanker from the interstate and driving it in with a few little tweaks, including a few remote control units and a bit of explosives. Now that I have your help though, maybe I won’t have to work that much to get that?
-That could be arranged, smiled the cat.

Yuri had more questions about the Family then I could’ve thought to answer in a lifetime, as if an elusive and somehow romantic world of cloak and dagger Mafiosi had just opened to him for the first time. I made it clear to him though that I wasn’t too interested in revealing the inner workings of the business, him being on the other team and all, even if we were cooperating in this assignment. I was glad though that I had a favorable wind at my back as I left the hotel with the new rifle in its cardboard box, nicely concealed in the back seat as I was driven back to the mansion by some of the agents, themselves quite intrigued by the idea of being a made man’s drivers. They pulled in front of the gates with a sudden stop, giving me time to get out and take my precious new tool with me as I used my keycard to engage the motorized mechanism to open the doors for me. I must have had more bounce in my step then my kind was normally attributed to have, but Badger still looked concerned as he met me in the lobby, looking over at the cardboard box with a grunt and nod.
-So what was that about, ‘roo? You were gone for more then three hours, and we were getting a worried for you.
-Oh, there’s nothing to be worries about, that’s fore sure. I just basically took a contract for the elimination of the Dogs from the governor and State Department, the last of which is cooperating fully with us to make things easier.
-What the Hell! How much do they know about us?
-They really like us, actually, I replied with a shrug. That’s part of the deal too, in sorts. We do this for them and ourselves, technically, and in return, the State turns a permanent blind eye to us.
-I’ll be damned! So what’s on your mind?
-There’s a fuel truck and semi-trailer being rigged up with Cordex and C-4 by the boys in the Department shop, for our use as a party favor for the biker, I said with a wink and smile. I’ll be driving it RC, probably.
-Kind of them, without question. In the meantime, I’ll get Tracks to start preparing an all-out wipeout of their associates, to start as soon as their leadership is put down, plus a few hits up North, for good measure.
-I could do some of those, I commented, taking out the Rutger and showing it off to Badger. How do you like this little number?
-Hot damn! That’s some nice hardware! You steal that off someone?
-The people’s tax dollars put to good use, I laughed. It’s 0.3 Magnum rounds, so it should make a good impression on our dear friends. I’ll just go and machine a silencer for this in the shop, though. No use waking up the neighbors…
-Thoughtful of you, ‘roo! You make an old badger proud, you know that?
-I’ll go see Tracks, actually. I don’t know if he still has some of that heat-resistant paint for his…
I hurried to the back of the mansion to the backyard metal shop where I could hear some grinding noises, a telling sign someone was already inside. I peered in to see my deer friend polishing a small steel item, too concentrated to notice me creeping up before grabbing his sides. The deer gave a cry and let the grinder down before turning around with an annoyed air, relaxing it as he saw me with an innocent smile.
-Jumpy, you have to stop doing that, said the deer.
-Why would I, I asked with a shrug. New operating rod there?
-My CAWS burned it out, replied the deer, looking at the item. Emptying two magazines in full automatic apparently was too much for the boom-boom.
-Not like you couldn’t make a replacement, I flattered.
-He, ‘course I can, said Tracks. Anyone out there right now?
-Not a soul in sight. What, is the deer thinking of something bad?
-That’s one way to put it, said the cervidae, turning to put his arms around me and planting a long kiss on me. Good thing you left your room yesterday, ‘roo, ‘cause I was going in to get you out myself if you didn’t.
-Bad deer, bad, I teased. Could you make me something long, round and silent?
-Why not.
Tracks wrapped his left hand over my shoulder as the other shot to my belt and opened my pants. I returned the favor and slowly but surely, the deer dropped to a knee and started sucking me off, beating himself while his panache rocked against me. I finished in his cheeks with a slight gasp, Tracks eager to get back up and have me riposte in force. He was far too massive to consider anything else then a snake pounding, but that was just what he liked from me, and leaned back against the work table as I did him over, ending his ride in an empty pop bottle he had with him, quickly disposed of in the garbage before anyone could notice it. He looked at me with a dumb, happy air before coming to and asked what had originally been on my mind when I’d walked in.
-So did you just come in for a raunchy good time or was there something else you had in mind, Jumpy me lad?
-Just a silencer for my newest toy, I said, opening the rifle’s box. Could you, bucky boy?
-Heh, sure thing! I’ll fit on one of the newest pieces I had sent in, replied the deer, taking a long, plain device from a box on the table and trying it over the barrel. Just a little tweak and a coupling ring and you’ll be good to go.
-Aren’t I always, I asked with a wink.

Yuri and his boys had certainly come through on their end of the bargain, and had the truck ready for the operation two days later, the excited lion calling me on one of the public lines to announce the news. I picked it up at an isolated garage outside the city that the Department had commandeered for their work, and after having driven it by wire for a few miles from the passenger seat, I’d gotten a good feel for the controls that they’d put in. Being a bomb on wheels, the technicians hadn’t busted their asses in thinking up of the RC units, just a simple box with a linear motor on the brakes and gas and a single motor on the steering wheel. There was nothing to control the gears, so once I’d stopped and gotten out to me position, I’d have to select one and hope it was enough to do the trick. I parked outside a truck diner, three blocks down from the biker’s compound, and left the vehicle’s doors locked as I ran to the tower I’d chosen the evening before as my sniper’s nest, a fifteen-story apartment building that gave me not only a good view of the road, but also a dreamy vista on the compound for my ensuing clean-up. As an extra measure of precaution, I’d asked Yuri to delay the emergency services from coming in until I’d called in an all-clear, so in the event that I didn’t get the bang for my buck I would’ve expected, I could snipe out the targets the good old fashioned way. It was cut and dry, though demanded a precise, clockwork execution to get a perfect score. I monitored the traffic at the compound to make sure that only the right people would go off with the fuel bomb, seeing only the occasional hooker or delivery truck entering, then leaving minutes later. The guys down there were cautious, almost borderline paranoid, but it hardly mattered, as in a few hours, they’d be sausages at a summer BBQ. In the last hours of daylight, when the bikers had pulled in for the day and were preparing their little nighttime party, I remotely started the gas truck, pulled it out of the diner and as soon as the way was clear, gunned it down the street towards the side of the compound. I’d been choosy in my gear selection, picking fourth overdrive, giving me a mix of torque and speed sufficient to outrace any response the occupants might have, but the muscle to take out the wire fence that separated the particular stretch of street from what would have been the compounds receiving area, had it remained a triage center as it previously seemed to have been. Shouting sounded at the compound as the truck continued to pick up speed and rammed through the fence, plowing forth into the middle of the fortified area. With a fluid movement, I flicked off the safety for the detonation circuit, and triggered the blast as the vehicle had fully penetrated the target area. The result, to the credit of Yuri’s compadres, was a massive mushroom cloud that engulfed the compound, throwing debris and whatever else was in the way of the high-inertia explosion. A few bikes and cars were tossed aside into buildings, the last of which caught fire as the wall of flame blew through their windows. The devastation was complete, and ended the use of my remote control all the while signaling that of my Rutger. I took target after target in a machine-like fashion, stopping only to reload between bursts of ten deafened popping noises. Two clips later, I didn’t spot any movement, save for curious passer-bys that stopped to look at the scene, a few looters plucking the odd item from the debris. I called Yuri on my cell phone, who seemed overjoyed to hear of the success of the contract, before packing up the rifle in my case and returning to street level, jogging up to the smoldering compound to get a better, fuller look at the situation. The onlookers offered a variety of interesting comments when looking at the fire-filled yard, some quite entertaining.
-I knew those guys were up to no good!
-Better them then me…
-Did you see that? Just like in Road Warrior! Boom!
-I think that bike’s still good. Come on, before anyone else sees it!
-Dad? Oh, no, dad! God…

The last comment hit me like a brick in the head, and got me searching for the one who had said it. I saw a teenage German Sheppard bitch, maybe eighteen from what I could tell, looking at the wreckage with searching eyes, though they hardly seemed exactly like those I’d expect to see from a close relative of a deceased. I kept an eye on the girl as the police, ambulances and firefighters came in, soon cutting off the compound from view under a storm of water and yellow tape. I gave a quick grin as I heard a policeman declare to a colleague that some of the bodies had been shot, not burned or killed by the blast, but returned my curious face before anyone was the wiser. My attention returned to the girl, however, as I saw her walking away from the crowd and back to the streets, only giving the occasional regretful glance behind her. I tailed her until I was right behind her and called out in a friendly tone to get her attention before I could startle her.
-Hey there, are you okay?
-Who’s… who are you? Do I know you?
-I don’t think so, but it’s hard to see a sad girl without saying anything.
-Most people would. Look, I have to go…
-How about a nice, warm meal? You look like you’ve been hungry for a while.
-I… I have, sure. All right, why not?
-You pick the place, my treat.
-How about that place, said the dog, pointing an Italian restaurant a block away.
-Not a problem! By the way, I’m Vincent.
-I’m Jesse, glad to meet you.
The girl smiled for the first time since I’d spotted her, her face lighting up as we entered the restaurant which, by coincidence, was one of the Family’s therefore the moment I signaled the waiter, we were showed to a first-rate table for four near a small stage where a pianist was executing a few well-rehearsed songs. The girl settled in with a glittering stare before looking over and thanking me for the invitation.
-It’s very find of you, said Jesse. Can I have something to drink? I know I’m not just old enough, but…
-Not to worry, no one asks for ID here, I smiled. So what’s your story?
-Runaway, said the dog, looking a bit aside. I couldn’t deal with home, or home couldn’t deal with me, but something just happened and I left.
-I see. I’m sorry to hear it, though.
-How about you?
-Orphan, actually, so I guess we’re somewhat in the same boat. Car crash, to answer your next question.
-That’s terrible…
-Life goes on still, I shrugged. It’s hard to deal with, but it’s possible.

Our conversation continued as a waiter swung by and took our orders, two large margaritas and a plate of antipasti to start, then plates of Fettuccini, incidentally also Jesse’s favorite. When the drinks came though, something of a doubt that had sparked in my mind was concretized. Jesse had a strange build, more visible through her tee and jeans now that we were sitting. Her chest wasn’t that large, but her hands, though thin and somewhat delicate, showed stronger features then I would’ve expected, least from one on her physiology. As we toasted to her health, she took a long drink from the glass and, through the thin fur on her neck, I saw the form of an Adam’s apple bounce. My eyes dilated, but I tried to stay away from the subject as we continued, though I was convinced that the Sheppard had realized that I’d read into her disguise. Well, his disguise, actually. After we’d made Houdini proud by making our twin mounds of pasta disappear into nothingness and had two cheesecakes delivered to replace them, Jesse finally brought up the topic of my observation.
-I guess I can’t really fool you anymore, he said.
-You had me up to now, I admitted with a nod. I’d never have guessed.
-Nor did my parents, sighed the dog, looking down. It’s actually the reason why I left. I didn’t choose, though. My father, who must have died in that explosion out there, chased me out, threatening to kill me if I ever told anyone that he was my dad. Someone like him couldn’t have a girly son, after all. I had to be a tough, harder-then-nails son of a bitch that like money and guns and scaring people as much as him. I didn’t though. I… I found out what or who I was when at fourteen, but he didn’t find out until I was sixteen. Since then, I’ve been living anywhere I could, even, you know… for money.
-And he didn’t do anything?
-He gave me money and things once in a while if I came to see him at his place there, but I’d have to do things for it. I didn’t like it, but I needed the help more then my pride could stop me from doing. I’m kind of glad he’s gone now, so I won’t have to do it anymore, and I’m not afraid of him either. On the other hand, now I’m really in trouble. I can’t afford a place, even if I really try.
-Maybe I could help, I offered.
-Help? Maybe, said the dog with a fading air. I ask for sixty for it, or a hundred for whatever you-
-Not that, I corrected, bringing him out of his pitch. I mean a job, one that involves you in a better position then on all fours, and a good, fair salary. I’ll be plain with you, Jesse. I’m in the Bronco Family here in Miami. We have a lot of places and a lot of people for work for us. Most don’t concern anything illegal, like our restaurants and businesses. If you like, I could find a place for you too, with a generous rent.
-My God, started the dog, I’d never have guessed…
-That makes two of us with surprises tonight, I said with a nudge on Jesse’s shoulder. How about it?
-If you could, I’d be grateful, past anything you could imagine!
-First, finish that cheesecake, eh?
-I have to watch me line, muttered the Sheppard, blushing a bit.

We left the restaurant full and happy, hiring a taxi to a small apartment tower in the outskirts of town that the Family owned, and whose occupants were for the most part also members of the Broncos. I buzzed the door of the landlord who, even at this hour, was up and about, and glad to have a new tenant. I fronted the first month of rent and utilities before getting the keys to the partly-furnished flat and passing them to a thoroughly stunned Jesse, who looked at them with a gaping mouth. We took the lift to the fifth floor, where he unlocked the door to his place, and waltzed in with a giddy pace, barking in joy as he looked around.
-Now this is the life, called the dog. My place, mine, mine, mine!
-Indeed, I returned with a grin. I’ll just make a call to get you that job now, if you don’t mind.
-Mind? Vincent, you’re a funny ‘roo.
-You have no idea…

I placed a call through to a few of the downtown restaurants that the Family owned and operated, trying to find an opening for a ‘internal placement’, as I worded it, though the meaning was all too clear. I came through at a French-style café where the barista had quit due to a personal conflict, leaving his place open for anyone to take. I quickly secured it for Jesse, and with a long list of thanks, I returned my cell to my pocket, jotting down the name of the place, address and the name of the manager, passing the note to the Sheppard, who quickly threw it into his wallet, giggling madly as he did, jumping up and down a bit, hands braced with a giddy expression.
-Oh man, this is just too good! Vincent, you just ask, and I’ll clean your paws for you.
-Call me Jumpy, I returned. Everyone I know does.
-Could I call you Vince then? It sounds kind of nice, you know…
-So you guessed that I’m not straight as an arrow, eh?
-Considering you’re looking at me with a crazy hard-on right now, I don’t think it would take a psychic to figure it out. So… are you thinking what I’m thinking?
-That might be the case, I replied with a sly, devilish smile. That all depends what you’re thinking, of course, and if you can imagine things as dirty as the ‘roo can…
-Don’t worry. I’m all the worst the world can put into a Sheppard.

I paced over and scooped up the boy, and light as he was, he was fit for his age. Through his jeans, I could see he was just as tight as I was at the moment, and his eyes burned through me. I caned down and planted a long, satisfying kiss on his, releasing a slight whine as we separated. I jogged with him in my arms to the bedroom, putting him down slowly on the bare mattress. The pup looked at me with adorable eyes, the kind that anyone would melt at the sight of, but I felt that it wasn’t always the case when he was in this kind of situation. Maybe I could counterbalance that, I thought. Perhaps... I ran a hand under his shirt, feeling his soft duvet and pumped brassiere under my palm, his eyes closing as he enjoyed the moment. To give him more to look at, I cast off my own shirt, my muscular frame getting a smile and grin from Jesse as he reached over and felt me. I peeled off his tee and threw it aside mine, then with a few soft caresses to his black muzzle, I undid his trousers and reaching into his panties casually, took his soft sheath in my hand and started to stimulate him.
-I’m use to doing it to people, but getting’s better then giving, apparently.
-You like how this feels, I whispered, slowly licking his privates, having a silly ‘roo messing with your body?
-Oh, he’s better then a silly ‘roo...
I nodded as I continued to jack him off, the poor pup soon writhing with pleasure with his head thrown back. As he was nice and hard, I undid my belt and pulled down my pants, getting in a prone stance on the bed before slapping my rear and batting at him with my round tail. The shep almost seemed hesitant at first, but then happily hopped over me and lifted my tail out of the way before easing into me. I wasn’t ‘him who receives’ all that often, mostly because my relations were mostly with Tracks and had he even tried, I would’ve went to the hospital ER with a very entertaining injury. Jesse was all right though, small enough to get in easy, but still well-equipped for his age, and I liked his style as he screwed me, both hands wrapped around my thighs to fondle me in return for my offer. He was affectionate and careful, and even as he finished, I hardly noticed, so gentle was his movement. As he did, he turned me in a quick wrestling lock to my back and running his thin fingers over me, started to suck my cock in his moist lips, persevering until I blew off in his mouth, which seemed to fulfill his requirements for a great screw, and very honestly mine as well as I groaned and drooped to the bed. The dog pulled his shirt over us, and so did I with mine, giving us the cover we needed to fall fast asleep in the dark. Jesse gave me a quick swipe with his hand in the ribs to wake me up, which got me rolling off the bed and onto the floor with a crash, though I was back on my paws just as quickly, kicking off the ground with my strong legs.
-That’s a fine how-do-you-do, I said, pushing the pup back down as soon as he’d gotten up himself.
-Get used to it, I’m never much more subtle then that, he grinned. Is your cell ringing?
-Apparently, I answered, getting the phone out from my pant’s pocket and turning it on. I walked out of Jesse’s earshot when I recognized the voice, and considered that he’d probably be better off not hearing the rest of the conversation.

-The Reaper had a good time last night, said Badger. I saw the results on the news, ‘roo boy.
-Indeed. And your critique?
-Perfect score, said the Don. Also, as soon as word got out that you’d tidied up the compound, Tracks and a few contractors went out and started taking care of stragglers.
-I take it then that there wasn’t any trouble with that?
-Not in the least! My god, most of the bastards ran when they saw their place go up in flames. My guess is that they’ll be retreating back to their friends up the coast.
-Then we’d better make sure that the result is stable, I added. If they’d decide to try and take another try at this place, I doubt they’d do it as quietly as they had this time.
-Spot on the money, called Badger. In that case, we need to do one of two things. Scare them out of their wits and make sure they got the message, or negotiate.
-Maybe I could manage the latter, I offered. You see, I just met their ex-leader’s son here…
-You’re kidding! What did you do?
-Set him up at one of our places and gave him a job. You have to meet him and talk to him to understand, but long story short, he’s a friend, and a very good one.
-That greases the gears very nicely, concluded Badger. So that meeting…
-Should be in our backyard, where we can have good control of things. Also, I think that the State Department will cut into the dance, but I’ll have a talk with my contact there before we try anything else.
-You seem to have this in hand, laughed the Don. Are you sure you don’t want my place?
-Not thanks, I returned. I’ll call back as soon as I confirm our arrangements. I guess that the Plato would be the best place for this to happen.
-I’ll call them up and make sure they can handle the security. Ciao, Jumpy.

I hung up the call and dialed up the number on the otherwise blank card that Yuri had given me, getting an electronic switchboard asking for a confirmation code. I redialed the same number, and finally an agent’s voice came on the line.
-Who do you want to talk to?
-Yuri?
-And this is?
-Vincent.
-Ah yes, of course. A moment, if you will.
-Vincent, I take it that things went well, said the lion as he took the phone. Sorry for the security, but then again…
-Oh, that’s nothing. So, like the fireworks?
-Couldn’t have been nicer! There were some questions about those targets you took out… manually, but we squashed them before they got too far, with a nice, tidy cover story about there being a shootout in the compound when the accident took place and in the confusion, blah, blah… You get the idea.
-I like the idea of having you guys on my side, I chuckled. Anyway, we entered the second phase of this operation just as soon as the smoke had cleared, and the bulk of the bikers have moved out. That means that we have a clear line to a lasting conclusion to this conflict if we decide to make a final, decisive action.
-You mean move to the upper coast and pop some balloons?
-Well, if that can be avoided, the better it is. I was thinking along the lines of getting some kind of negotiation going with them to insure that they don’t jump over their fence again. We have a few notable advantages with both options.
-Which are?
-I met the son of the ex-leader of the club here, and he’s a great guy. With his help and insight, as well as the shock and fear from our attack, we could strong-arm them into agreeing to a cease-fire summit. Otherwise, the Families up the coast like having those fellows in their playground just as much as we do, and we could coordinate to wipe them out.
-I know where the Governor stands, said Yuri, and I suspect that it’s the general agreement between the lot of his friends as well. Could you really make the second option work?
-It would be more complicated, mind you, and we’d be in for something of a more open conflict even if we are totally successful. Unfortunately, there’s lot of the buggers, and we only have so many flyswatters about.
-Point taken. But now imagine that the police forces in the cities decide to jump in…
-Yuri, you’re starting to talk about civil war here. I’m not ruling it out, but it would be a nasty, nasty piece of work.
-But which would have some serious benefits, corrected the lion. Your Families would run the place in their traditional fashion, and we don’t have the hundreds of gang-related murders that those vermin contribute yearly. I think we could make it happen. This would mean the intelligence would come from the inside from your people, and our people act on it.
-I’ll see what I can come up with.
-So will I, and maybe we’ll have a meeting with the Governor again. He’s still in town, and I think he’ll want to be involved. After all, you know, this would be a very nice platform for an upcoming election…
-Ah, pure political bravado, how sweet the sound.
-Talk to you later, ‘roo.
-Same to you, leo.

I turned to see Jesse looking into the room with a grin. I surmised that he’d heard most of the talk, which would prove correct. I started a damage-control speech, but he beat me to it and waved his hand with a shrug.
-It’s not like I didn’t suspect it, said the Sheppard. Just telling me you were from the Family was more then enough for me to understand the rest.
-And your call?
-Hey, said Jesse, walking over and giving me a hug, I like my silly ‘roo. All things considered, you changed my life into something I could’ve hoped for, ever. So, what’s on your mind now?
-Well, a bit of rest and relaxation at the Family’s mansion before we start our campaign against your father’s-
-That wasn’t my father, corrected the dog, with withheld hatred. I don’t know who that was, but that wasn’t a father to anyone. No father makes his son take him in the ass for a few bills and a meal. Now, about that R and R…
-Two pool tables and a Jacuzzi, full-sized…
-You talk, me listen…

We left the building in a rush of steel and rubber as I enjoyed the nice cruise to return to the fortified walls of my restful home, whereupon we were greeted by a small welcoming committee of guards and associates who expressed their congratulations for a perfect TKO. I thanked them as I passed through their midst with Jesse, though for the time being, the only thing we had on our minds was a long, pleasant and well-watered snooker tourney. I bested the dog most of the time, though he was clearly my better, and with a bit of practice, would be amply qualified to humiliate me at the game. I joked that I’d have too much to drink during the last few to be able to discern which stick was hitting the ball, but took my losses with humor all the while. Two hours later, Badger himself walked into the hall and gave me a hearty slap on the back before talking.
-Jumpy, my boy, you’re the best point man a Don could ask for. I take it that this is our friend Jesse?
-Yes sir, said the Sheppard. Glad to make your acquaintance, sir.
-Sir? That’s rather a lot of title for a Don. Just call me Badger, son, that’s plenty.
-Thank you for letting me wear the table felt a bit, said the pup. I never thought I’d be in a Family home in my life!
-Oh, well, it’s not like it’s the only one, but we call it home, shrugged the Don. Anyway, Jumpy, I take it you had some kind of an answer from the Feds if you look this serious.
-That’s for sure, though I think we need a more comfortable place to talk if I’m to spill the beans.
-My office then, nodded Badger.
The three of us filed out of the recreation room to the reading room where the Don offered us a seat and a finger of fine Schnapps before we started to talk. I explained the idea that Yuri had put forwards, which got the old badge in a whirl, somewhere between ecstatic about such a huge operation and outraged that we would be playing such a huge role in it.
-I know that the Jeremies in Columbia and the Moonrats in Tampa would be there to support any effort of the sort, but this is very, very high risk! I mean if we miss anything, we could be dealing with a mean reversal of fortune here, but this time definitively not in our favor.
-I think that it’s a sure bet that the police will be at the top of their A game for this plan, I commented. To be able to wipe out such a massive gang operation is a wet dream for most commissioners, and even if the feds take some credit, there’s still plenty to go around for them.
-All right, said Badger, resting back in his seat. The only random factor in this is Washington. It’s the upper bound of their territory, and their oldest holding. We have to make damn sure that it goes in a blaze of glory for the rest of their cells to loose heart. I know that the Eagles are a strong clan, but we have to make sure that they do their part without a single slip of the finger. I’d be all the more comfortable to know that I have someone there I can really count on.
-You mean some Broncos holding them in rank and file.
-I mean you, Tracks and your friend there. A miracle point man with connections like yours, a master iceman like that deer and an inside voice is what they need to guarantee a perfect, swift end to this business. Call it a vacation in a familiar place, if you want.
-All right, we’ll pack along some extra luggage as well, just in case we need to get a little more hands-on. Ever use a firearm, Jesse?
-Never in my life, confessed the dog. Could you show me?
-No problem, I’ve trained a lot of people.
-I’ll be back in my office, said the Don. I’ll call up the other Families and get things going for you to have a safe place to stay for your work.

We parted company in time for me and Jesse to head to the backyard, a casual name for the range and training area behind the mansion where our people practiced their hoodoo. I grabbed three pistols and a shotgun from the downstairs armory along with a few boxes of ammo, and Jesse’s first task was to load the clips in as little time as possible. The pup was quick, and clicked the rounds in place with a relaxed and professional hand by the fourth box. I was glad that he was this fast a learner, because the last thing I wanted if we were to get in the line of fire in the capital was to have a liability with us who we’d have to worry about protecting without hopes of his assistance, even as cover fire. I started him with the shotgun, which he handled a bit clumsily at first then, after having gotten over the noise the weapon made, he was able to get a few decent shots in, enough to convince me he could turn a target into a colander if needs be.
-This is easier then I thought, laughed the Sheppard. This doesn’t fire very quickly, though.
-This a better, I said, passing a Glock to him and taking my Inglis out. Now hold your pistol like this, and look down the length of the barrel. You want the pin at the end to line up with the others so they’re perfectly aligned. Mind you this is ideal, and you’ll rarely get perfect shots like this, but it’s the theory. Now aim and fire, puppy.
-All right, I’ll show you how a lady shoots, said Jesse, taking a few clips at the paper target. Not bad?
-For a beginner, very good. I ought to have recruited you earlier! Plus I bet you can hide more stuff in a dress then I could in my pants, eh?
-I don’t have any dresses, said the pup.
-Then before Tracks gets back from his rounds, we’d better go get you some nice stuff, eh?
-Yay, shopping, squealed Jesse. You’re carrying my bags!

We returned the firearms to their place for some maintenance from our household gunsmith before speeding off to the local shopping mall for a mean spree. I gave Jesse a three hundred dollar budget, but he was a convincing girl when it came to his buying habits, hunting down sales before picking anything out. I hoped that anyone looking on was as certain of his pretended gender, as he gave me a few sloppy kisses once in a while when he found an especially good bargain. Not that I minded, I like the attention. The last stop, at a lingerie store, was perhaps a bit hard to swallow, but his giddy attitude and glittering eyes when he purchased a few undergarments mostly glassed that over. The truck of my car was full by the time we drove back to the mansion, chased closely by Tracks in his own ride from the highway on, when he’d caught up with us, calling me up on my cell to tell me that I drove like an old senile. He parked aside us and jumped out of his convertible to help us with the bags, greeting the German Sheppard with a hand kiss. He gave a curious start when Jesse accidentally bumped into him and the buck felt something out of place make contact with his leg, though.
-What the... Jesse, little lady, is there something you didn’t tell me?
-Maybe, grinned the pup. Mind taking a guess what that might be?
-Some very good news for a gentile deer, said Tracks.
-Oh, this is going to be fun, I said with a smile. Three boyfriends going for a ride upstate!
-And no one to tell, added Jesse.

Two hours later, we had finished packing and had filled my car to capacity, our pup changed into a pair of Capri pants and a tank top, which didn’t betray him in the least. I burned hard on the road, cutting the trip down to a three-day flight, compounded with the fact we had two drivers, for Jesse had never driven in his life, and though I did have a certain taste for adventure, I wasn’t too comfortable with putting him behind the wheel of a performance vehicle for his first experience. We made a quick stop at the Moonrats’ in Tampa on our way for a supper engagement, the Don of the clan himself coming to meet us with compliments on our work against the bikers in our neck of the woods, as well as a few gifts. We arrived in the capital in the wee hours of morning, driving into the core in the dark of the night. As I was passing a small shopping center, two black cars drove up behind us and blinked their lights to get our attention. I looked at them with some concern, checking on a Steyr I’d brought along in my personal luggage, but soon my cell rung, a familiar voice answering at the other end.
-Vincent, you were quick!
-Yuri? I guess you took the plane, eh?
-Well, there are perks to my job. Where are you going?
-To our associates, I replied. They’re expecting us.
-As strange as it might sound, would it be possible for us to come along? We’re only four...
-If you’re ready to surrender your weapons when you’ll be searched, I’ll contact the Eagles and let them know.
-Fine, no worries. After all, we’re between allies here, aren’t we?

The cars stayed with us until the parking of a stately hotel in the heart of the city which was the Eagles’ home, very well guarded by a number of boys in strategic locations. I’d phoned ahead and told them about the special guests that we’d be entertaining, and a large reception team waited for us, flagging us to parking spots near an elevator where Yuri and his men were invited to be searched for arms, which they agreed to without any protest, eager to get to business as soon as possible. Thankfully the Family hadn’t spared up on the budget for the elevators and the dozen of us were able to cram into the cab as we shot up to the twelfth story of the building to the Don’s apartments, where he was apparently waiting for us.
-He’s very eager to meet you, Jumpy, said one of the guards. Your Family has a very special place in his heart, and your reputation precedes you.
-So I heard, I replied. And thank you, but I’m only a ‘roo here.
-Ah, there he is, said the guard, introducing a tall golden eagle. Don Riopelle, this is Jumpy, from the Broncos, and his associates.
-Welcome, said the bird, shaking our hands. I must say this is a rare occasion for federal agents to wish to visit my humble abode. I take it that you are the ranking officer in your group, sir lion?
-Indeed, said Yuri. Agent Yuri, it’s an honor, sir.
-I must say that I’m more then a little surprised by your decision to join in this operation, Yuri. After all, this is going to be a very complicated piece of work. I have files on the locations where we know that the Dogs are operating, and some intelligence on their higher hierarchy. All I have to say is that you’d better have some serious firepower with your men when they go in, because they are very, very well equipped.
-Could we review this information, I asked. I’d like a better picture of the situation.
-Absolutely, smiled the bird. I’d hate to stay idle for a moment now that I’m reassured that these savages will be routed from this city. It deserves better then their kind running amok in its streets.
We followed the Don to his office, where his own point man was waiting, a red-tailed hawk with a quiet, pondering gaze that spoke volumes as to his calm stance towards his occupation. Riopelle took out a few files from his cabinet and lay them out on the table in front of us, mostly maps with indications of the localities that the Dogs occupied as well as normal occupancy and guarding. Yuri looked at them with more interest then anyone, looking for good ways to approach the locations without being detected.
-They chose some nice properties, concluded the lion. These three will be very difficult to infiltrate, especially considering how many people will be at the party.
-Not impossible, though, I asked.
-Not impossible, but tricky. Lots of sniper work, from what I can figure. One here, another there, and two picking off targets from this tower here... Hey, you brought your rifle, didn’t you?
-Yep, I said with a grin, and Tracks is as good as gold too.
-Hopefully the swats will be short a few people, smiled Yuri. It would be a shame to miss out on this piece of history. I’ll get these to my people as soon as possible. We have an MFB at the Wellington, by the way, so feel free.
-How’s the handover from the other families, I asked as the lion wrapped up the files.
-Done and done, he replied. They had time to very discretely send them straight to the department’s secure fax, which I have no clue how they got hold of, but then again surprises haven’t been lacking as of late. In terms of a time frame, I say tomorrow night, optimistically.
-Better be over and done with before anyone gets wind of it, added Tracks. Wise old cat!
-Part of my job, shrugged Yuri. Do you have a contact phone here, good Don?
-This’ll be good, said the Hawk, passing a blank card with a number to the lion.
-I’ll get back to you as soon as we have a plan, with at least two hour’s notice. See you soon, friends!

Yuri was a quick mind, but I understood the complexity of the operation and the seven hours that it took for him to get back to us. I didn’t complain, as it gave the three of us some time to talk with the Eagles and socialize a bit between Families, something that rarely happened, due to the usual danger of word getting out an a police response being arranged to exploit the opportunity. There were six locations to assault, plus a few smaller actions that the regular police would address. A total of eight teams would be involved, plus ten snipers, us included with Jesse as a spotter for us. Riopelle insisted on taking out a few of the lesser locations, which eased the spread of the police force and making it overall a bit safer for the guys in blue. The mission clock was set to six o’clock, right at sundown, giving the good guys an advantage with IR gear, leaving three for us to get in position. Tracks had brought along his favorite rifle, a Dragunov DRV by the name of Karimina, which he’d basically grew up with and had a great feel for, and in the comfort of my car, he assembled it while I carefully traced a number of confusing roads before parking in front of the residential tower that was to be our nest for the next little while.

The air was warm and there was almost no wind whatsoever, the occasional 3-mile crosswind easily compensated for, making it a wonderful time for a hunting party. I soon saw a red dot appear on my hand, then another on Tracks, a sign from the other snipers that they were in position and ready. We followed their lines of sight and returned the gesture, signaling our own readiness while Jesse got comfortable, leaning back on the parapet were we’d dropped sand socks to make our accuracy almost unbelievable. The dog insisted on giving us good luck kisses and played a bit with us until the clock showed T-minus ten minutes, and still as statues, we lay on the roof top, me tracking on the East wall of the warehouse location while Tracks matched the South and a rooftop access door. On cue, my watch sounded and out of the darkness, the two SWAT teams responsible for the assault breached a North and East door, a quick succession of flash-bangs exploding before weapons fire from the police forces sounded inside the building. Three men ran out of the rooftop door, but my deer dropped them before they could do anything but pass on. The Eastside door nearest to us opened as well, a half-dozen armed thugs trying to pull a retreat before I cut them down with the semi-automatic sniper, five beautiful head shots and a trachea shot on a target that had looked up towards us. A mere five minutes later, twelve bodies lay on the street, nine from us and three from the police’s guns, and the two teams met up on the East side of the warehouse to confirm that they’d finished their sweep. As I looked them over, only one of them had taken a shot to the leg, but it didn’t seem to have done much more then a surface wound, the armor over the location having done accomplished it’s duty. From our elevated position, we could hear more fireworks from some of the other locations, one of which was within visual range, a small office tower. I tracked it without much ado, but out of the underground parking lot near it, a car shot out, small arms firing blindly at the building as it sped away. I nudged Tracks, who gave an affirmative grunt, and as the vehicle approached us, probably hoping to duck into the ‘safe’ warehouse, three sniper’s fields of fire converged, the other one of the policemen who’d been with us on the op, then a few pinholes appeared on the roof of the car and windows shattered as our large-caliber rounds cut the retreat attempt short. We exchanged red dots with the policeman before returning our attention to the tower until the SWAT officers came out of it, apparently as lucky as our boys had been. A general all clear was sounded as a caravan of ambulances rolled into the city, along with armed escorts to insure their safety as the bodies of the gang members were carried out from their strongholds by paramedics, to be quickly stacked in the morgue before anyone asked too many questions. A good deal of curious onlookers had also gathered, but the police made a cordon to keep them out of the way, easing the scene’s cleanup. I signaled for us to pack up and return to the Eagles before the media showed up and we got some unwanted camera time on the news. Tracks seemed contempt, a quiet smile decorating his dark muzzle, looking at me with a kind and inviting air to him.
-I take it the deer is thinking of bad things again, I said with a nudge.
-Deer are like that, returned the buck. After all, a job well done deserves a little celebration, doesn’t it?
-It does, completed Jesse. You two were beyond great! That car came out of nowhere.
-Only because we had a good spotter, I said as I gave a one-armed hug to the pup. Let’s get home.
The return to the Family tower was relaxing as compared to the drive in, corollaries of our intervention sinking in, and an anxious feeling of learning about the final tally of the operation dancing in as well. To our complete surprise, Yuri and his men were already in the parking of the tower getting frisked by the guards, the lion waving to us will a lazy hand. I signaled for the men to let the agents be as we took the cab up with a very excited and chipper-looking group of feds all eager to tell the tale of the final results. An equally mirthful Riopelle was waiting for us in his office, welcoming us back with compliments and flattery.
-So, agent Yuri, said the eagle. What did you think of our first joint operation?
-An outstanding success, nodded the lion, shaking his hand. Can you confirm all your targets were neutralized?
-Without so much as a doubt, assured the Don. And you, what did the harvest give?
-All of the other Families stayed out of the fight, but our teams performed absolutely incredibly. All locations in all target cities where cleaned out, with a total count of four hundred and eighty-three casualties for the dog, plus five hundred and some injured, all taken prisoner at the scene. Their higher cadre was totally eliminated, including what would have been a total embarrassment if it hadn’t been for your two professionals.
-The escaping car?
-That was the ringleader, underlined Yuri, William Dennis. Three different shooters, rifles and calibers, but one beautiful result! The newsmakers are running willy-nilly, marking this as one of the most heroic actions ever taken by the law against organized crime syndicates. Honestly, I can hardly believe we did this, but there it is.
-Hey we’re heroes, said Jesse with a thumbs-up.
-It amounts to that, nodded Riopelle. Now, for your people’s side of the deal, Yuri...
-A general directive to cut short any investigations into incidents concerning your reasonable operations will be disseminated tomorrow morning. This includes protection, counter-protection, money laundering, restricted prostitution, import and exports, and justifiable hits. That last issue is a bit hard to define, but I’m sure that you can understand what the limits of our understanding encompass.
-Common sense, of course, affirmed the Don. It’s great to have some comfort space.

The discussion continued for a generous half-hour, finishing drowned in the eagle’s wet bar, all involved picking a room in the building to sleep off their adventures. Tracks, Jesse and me ended up in one of the top-story apartments with a view on the city, all drunk as Hell but very, very happy. The pup did a little strip dance for us, laughing his head off as he threw off his clothes, pouncing on the deer without restraint, effectively knocking him back onto the bed on which he’d been sitting. Tracks had the conscious response to grab hold of him, and as the two had immobilized on the mattress, I took a ‘roo leap onto the pair, starting a mind-bending game of tantric wrestling that left no clear winner in it’s wake, though yielded a generally very, very pleasurable result.

Morning come, we wobbled out of our room to find the Eagle’s point man waiting with a message for us from Yuri. As a further expression of thanks from the feds, we were flown back to Miami in a first-class charter, without as much as a whisper about our luggage and assurance that my car would find it’s way back home safe and sound. Tracks and I took care of a few of the small hotel-sized bottles in the mini bar onboard, without the critique of hostesses, which were distinctly missing from the scene not that we minded in the least. After the intense exercise in intelligence and tactical intervention, the rest from the outside world was appreciated. Jesse fell fast asleep an hour after we’d left the airport, having emptied one of the flasks of whisky without much heed as to the side effects of his act. I used the onboard phone to call up Badger and tell him we were inbound, and as we reached our destination, I saw my car waiting for us on the runway with a familiar cat leaning on it.
-You forgot these when you were partying in Washington, called Yuri, wiggling the keys. 
-Everyone I know well enough gets a free ride, I replied, though I hope you didn’t put anything on it like, I don’t know, a GPS locator…
-No! I swear I didn’t, protested the feline. Anyway, I’ll be taking that plane back home. I wish you all the best guys, and really hope that we meet again.
-I wouldn’t be too surprised, I answered with a grin. After all, mixed private-public ventures are in fashion these days, aren’t they?
-And so they should!
The lion climbed aboard the charter after having pulled his luggage from the trunk of my car, tossing me the keys as the stairs retracted. It was good to be back in our territory, even if the Eagles had been good hosts. There was something comforting about knowing that we were finally in totally charge of the metropolis again, and that the officials were on our side was just chocolate icing on the cake. Thick, rich icing indeed…

Jesse stuck with us for the rest of the week before starting work, alternating his stay with either me or Tracks, all the while buying anything he needed to call his apartment home on credit, backed by me as insurance. While he slowly moved out, I took some time with Badger to reassert our position in the city, our wider margin of maneuver changing a few habits we’d taken on over the years for security reasons. With those new mechanisms in place, it would be impossible for a situation like we’d lived to come to pass, so deeply we routed ourselves into the police force, buying a few loyal souls in the body, as well as friends in the City Hall, who we could count on to buy time to phase out should our immunity be lifted.

On a more personal side, Tracks and I got much closer through our work and one-on-one time during the operation, and as Jesse left to go on with his new made man’s life, there was little standing between him and me save for our usual discretion towards the rest of the Family. I also took a few days to go with Ulrich to a golf resort upstate, waxing philosophic with the cat until I was certain that he was all right. He’d had time to put his losses in perspective, and seemed somewhat relieved to hear about the Family’s new position. He maintained his distance, but I trumped him before he could affirm his dissociation too strongly as we had a drink at the clubhouse following our first day on the links.
-By the way, Ulrich, I saw a fortune teller last week, I said to the cat.
-Really? Who was it?
-This old panda over in the downtown, aside the herbal medicine store you used to go back in the days. You know what she said?
-That you’ll be a millionaire with a beautiful wife and more cars then you can shake a stick at?
-She would’ve been off on that second point, I said with a chuckle. No, actually, she said that before ten years are through, you’d be my boss.
-You’re kidding.
-Nope, plain and simple, you’d be my superior. Also, you’ll come back with your own soul mate when the time would come for your return.
-I like that last part, smiled Ulrich. Didn’t say who, eh?
-Apparently there was some condensation in her globe, I said with a laugh. We’ll see who changes profession, eh kitty?
-‘Till then, we’ll see. By the way, I put in for an exchange in Brazil after I’m done my program…