The Miami Broncos

Chapter 22: The French Connections

Written by Francois Guint-Riel (FGR)

There are few sounds in the world as melodious as this, I thought as the chuck of my seventeen-inch Sherline lathe’s cutter bit down into the shaft I’d set in it, slowly starting its program to produce the spring guide for one of my full-sized SMG designs. I felt like a composer hearing his partitions being played after having spent days on end writing them and every chip flying into the collector behind the unit was applause from my unseen audience. After all, these wonderful weapons I made were sculptures, simply works of art to me, as much as they were the culmination of my applied knowledge of the subtle science of mechanical engineering. I doubt that anyone who used them knew how much I enjoyed every second of drafting, calculation and simulation that I put into their creation, be it in China, Malta, or right here in Ottawa where I held sway over my own shop in the basement of a hotel. Well, did and didn’t, seeing as how the place was actually rightfully owned and operated by my employers, now the reigning Family in the city, but still, Don Nereid gave me such incredible latitude in freedom that I didn’t feel as if I was anything but a filial of his people. I had my own contracts, bank accounts, and I travelled, as my job required me to.

It had been a while since I’d gone anywhere, I realized as I turned my attention away from the lathe to tinker with the firing mechanism I’d already assembled. With my clients overseas in Asian and the Mediterranean satisfied for the time being, I hadn’t any reason to hope for an exotic destination to make its way into my schedule for quite a while, though my hooves and stripes just itched from the stagnation. The second I put my assembly down to wander off to some other pastime to kill the minutes until my guide was finished, I heard a loud roar and I was slammed into the nearby wall by someone behind me. Would I be in nature and this not be the day and age it was, a lone zebra would have had every reason to believe that his last hour had come, but the roar was too cute and I knew perfectly well who had produced it.

-Hello Boreale, I whispered as I felt the cougaress’ tongue licking my ear. Thanks for waiting for me to have my hands freed.
-Welcome, she replied as I felt her hands wander around my belt. You left me wanting a bit this morning, you know.
-Oh did I now? Sorry, I thought that after you clawed apart your cushion while you had a zebby playing the locomotive on your butt, it meant you’d had enough for a few.
-And since, a few have passed, purred Boreale as her head settled on my shoulder. Bah, I suppose I can let you work a bit. Need a hand with anything?
-Well, if you feel like turning some screws, you’re free to put together those frames over there.
-I will, if shop rule number six is put into effect. You know…
-No loose clothing or other garments worn other then protective aprons when Boreale and Craven are alone in the shop, I completed. And how convenient; no process being used today requires for aprons to be worn, even.

I gave a smile as we stripped down to our fur, chucking everything we had previously in the bin aside the door that I’d placed for just that purpose after having lost track of some specific garments following the application of the infamous “B&C clothing rule”. The cat and I was a match made in heaven, as I was a slut of astounding moral looseness, and she was a nymphomaniac who just didn’t have enough breath to orgasm as often as she wanted to, not that she didn’t, heck no. Even as I sat down with her to put together the frames and functional components of my latest rifles, she waited until I had sat down to sit on my lap, rubbing her breasts against my shoulder until I started using non-verbal communication to explain to her what went where, sacrificing my mouth to suckle on her. After having finished the assembly of three units, I stopped to comment that the position just didn’t work very well, even if it was quite fun.

After a moment’s perverted reflection on the matter, Boreale conceded to my point and rubbing my rod until it was hard enough to serve, mounted me with her back to me and proceeded with her work while bouncing a bit, giving a few low yowls while I did what I could to continue my own parts, as futile as the effort was. Unlike that I would have projected to be the case with the unconventional introduction of a sexual component in the process, we managed to finish what I had thought would take over an hour within half that time, though as much of a man as I was, my performance had come to an end shortly before that mark, alas. Still, Boreale hadn’t given up and putting down her last rifle, turned around to cuddle with me, sharing scorching kisses that I relished so much.

As I mentioned, I’m a slut. I would have been the kind of Babylon if sin was the selection condition, and ruled for ages. Boreale, beautiful, sweet cougaress she was, had certain penchants for fetishes, one of which was going for tinkles on me, something that brought her to such levels of ecstasy that I was always willing to oblige, aside from the fact that I’d taken to it pretty soon. Looking at me with a sly grin, she motioned down and poked her urea, her universal signal for us to engage is some water fighting actions, and I responded just as soon by pointing to the slop sink in the corner of the room. Hopping off me, Boreal pounced to sit over the sink on her four paws, and as soon as I’m put my head under her, started her warm ray of sunshine, her eyes rolled back in her head and loud purrs that rivalled my tool’s own sonic emanations rumbling from her throat. On cue, as always, the point of the mafia Family, Rust, a lemur with some odd gift to always walk into a room when the individuals inside are having some sort of sex, lived up his reputation with flying colours, opening the door and stepping inside.

-Oh God, screamed the lemur as he ran back outside the door and closed it, I didn’t just see that!
-Hey, don’t knock it until you try it, I called as Boreale shook off the last of her piss and I took the hose from the sink to rinse off with some of the cleaner mix I stored aside it.
-The poor lemur’s too sensitive, laughed the cat as he got down from her perch and started throwing us our clothes from the box.
-You can come back in, Rust, I stated as I knocked on the door as soon as we’d dressed, we’re decent again.
-No you’re not, moaned the man as he came back and sniffed the air. You mean that you’re both used to doing that?
-Sure are, shrugged Boreale. Bah, ask one of your partners to do it sometime, it’s actually pretty fun!
-I’ll keep it in mind somewhere, sighed the lemur. I was just meaning to tell you that there’s a message upstairs for you with Nereid regarding a potential buyer for your wares in Paris that contacted us this morning. We have his contact information and everything, if you want to go take a look at it.
-Oh, nice! That would be a sweet distraction, I nodded as I took Boreale’s arm and followed him out of the shop as soon as I’d turned off the main power switch.
-I’m not taking you away from anything important?
-These were just demonstration pieces I was making here, no worries.

We followed the poor man back up the stairs to the elevators, riding one of them to the top floor where the dolphin don has set up shop in one of the more luxurious suites, though it looked like a goddamned frat house rather then the renaissance palace it had started off as being. What I liked best about my life here was the fact that me and my feline girl could do whatever the heck we wanted because fundamentally, Nereid was just a nutcase and generalized pervert that he couldn’t take himself seriously enough to impart anything that could have been interpreted as morality. As we walked into the suite, the cetacean was lying on his bed watching television in a tong slip, waving at us with a grin as he got off to jump into a pair of pants before we said anything.

-Hey you two, said Nereid as we slammed into the sofas at the front of the room. Sorry for the sight back there.
-The rest isn’t a mystery, I replied with a smart-assed grin. How’s the fish?
-Ah, just great! We have new contracts out in the northeast of the province by the way. Here are their numbers, just in case.
-Good to have, I said as I jotted down the information in my logbook. I think that I must be the only person to have one of these around here.
-Well, you’re also the only person to know what the heck the writ in your books downstairs, laughed Rust as he started to act like a mental deficient. You so smaaart...
-Hey, hey, I called as the lemur tried to pull my hoof to pretend to kiss it, watch the goods, this shit ain’t free!
-I’m neck-deep in debt then, added Boreale. So, you had some stuff in from France, Ner?
-Heck yep, Nereid shot as he got a fax from the table and handed it to me. I’m such an educated motherfucker here that I can’t read a word of it, though.
-Ha, it’s in French, I giggled. Care to read, kitty?
-Je crois qu’ils veulent une carabine d’appoint sous-compacte, dix exemplaires en tout. Il semblerait qu’ils aillent une très haute estime de toi, Craven.
-I’m starting to feel really dumb, sighed Rust. Translated to simple lemur and dolphin speak, what does that mean?
-They’re asking for ten sniper rifles, subcompact models, but they’d like for me to go and present them in case they need more. It looks like they need a bunch of things after that, but they’d like to go into that in person.
-Damn it, off goes the striped slut Pegasus again, laughed Nereid. Rust, care to go with these two?
-Aww, I have to go to Paris, the lemur playfully sighed. What crappy job conditions...
-Yeah, retorted the dolphin as he tickled Rust’s chin, I really stick it to you, don’t I?
-You can save that for Alex and John, squeaked the ringtail. Okay, so what about those rifles, Craven? You think you can manage to come up with something sexy to show them?
-I already had a project for a sniper on the backburner, and I made a prototype a few months back. Its range is well over a kilometre, though it’s about this long, I said as I made a length with my hands.
-Is there a reason why you didn’t actually start preparing the design for production, asked Rust, or did you just not have the time?
-Well, good ringtail, I started with a bit of a pompous economist tone, it’s all about offer and demand. No one offered me a contract and ponied up the cash for the work, so I didn’t do any. After all, I wouldn’t be looking at over three million dollars in profits to date this quarter if I was doing charity work, eh?
-I suppose not, laughed the point man. So, when do you think you’ll have them ready for?
-If I start right away, probably by the end of tomorrow. They share components with most of my assault rifles, so it’s no biggie. I’ll have the scopes and the rest of the specialty items shipped with overnight courier, so there’s no reason for the marvels not to be finished.
-So if I book our flights for day after next, it’s a pretty safe gamble?
-Pretty much, yeah. Now! Time is a-wasted, good kitten, I called as I took Boreale’s paw and motioned for us to go back to work.

The cat and I took off to hit the shop hard, where I pulled out the plans for the sniper from the tubes I kept aside the stock rack. It was a strange item, heavily inspired by earlier bullpump designs, but with much more simplified elements that brought down its manufacturing cost, the lethal blow to most of those old models. For compatibility and service requirements, it was to use standard 7.62 NATO rounds, which, if a bit less interesting to me then higher calibre projectiles, were easy to find. While Boreale did her best to gather the part kits, I set up the CNC mills to produce the custom elements as fast as I could while maintaining their quality, a challenge for any millwright and machinist. Nonetheless, by four o’clock, we had six of the weapons waiting for their electronics, due to arrive by about the same time the next day, coinciding perfectly in our projected timetable.

Calling it quits due to the fact our eyes didn’t seem to respect the natural alignment we were used to having them obey, we closed the lights on the shop and went back upstairs to the hotel restaurant, taking our usual spot aside the windows looking out to the streets, now generously snowed over with the storm that had hit during the day, not that we’d actually noticed any of its ill effects ten feet underground. Over a pair of Philly cheese steak sandwiches and coffees, we waxed about what else we wanted to do while on our French getaway, though neither of us brought up the idea of shopping or anything of the sort. I knew by second-hand experience that going around and trying to buy anything at less then extortionate prices was a fool’s errand, and my anti-materialistic views had rubbed off so hard on Boreale that she didn’t care for the activity anymore, resorting to search-and-destroy outings to stores that probably saved our financial health from the common disease of consumerism.

After a half-hour, our two local homo stallions, Alex and John, officially the managers of the establishment and long-dated friends of the cougaress, passed by and joined us for dessert, both going out of their minds that we were about to escape off to another foreign destination they had been meaning to explore themselves. Noting a few souvenirs that they would have liked to see in our luggage when we came back in exchange for elevating us to the status of deities, we tried not to rub in our good fortune too much though it was inevitable that after a few minutes, Alex took me in a headlock and messed up my mane, though unlike in the case of the two Arabians, it didn’t really matter much as my hairs were as ridiculously hard and straight as a scrubbing brush’s. I thought fast and shot my muzzle into his crotch, giving his meat a quick nibble, enough of a start to him for him to release me from his grip, quickly replaced by his man-wife who was all too happy to get grabbed in vengeance for having lost a prey. I leaned into Boreale, thumbing my nose at them both while the cat tried to do grab me in the same way, but I ended up in a much more enjoyable way with my eyes compressed into her chest. Thankfully, I didn’t have to think about how to get out of her grip or do anything questionably acceptable in public as our specialty mocha drinks found their way to our table, carried by a newer server who obviously had never met us, to his great surprise and probably to his shock as well, though we were too busy laughing to really care about his reaction.

By the time that we had drained our mugs and come down from our fun, night had fallen outside and though it was probably not that late, both Boreale and I couldn’t really keep our eyes open and our hands were no longer as steady as they had been while we had been downstairs plying our trade. Leaving John and Alex to wander off into the night to one of their more familiar haunts, a club where they’d befriended the owner enough to have rebates on pretty much everything that they bought, we retired to our room, crashing on the bed in a heap of tired limbs that eventually lost their fabric covers before being crammed under the covers. Though she wasn’t exactly a feather, being quite a strong, muscular creature, the cougaress liked to sleep lying down against my side at an angle from me, and I liked feeling her breath against my stripes. As we both went under, I dreamt of us wandering around a French town, but it certainly wasn’t Paris, quite grungy a place, in fact. We felt that we were welcome though, but still, what a dump...

I got up around four o’clock, far before Boreale, sneaking off to the workshop to rush through the construction of the rest of our devices. After all, even if she was quite good for someone with her experience, my good kitten didn’t have my experience and I was much faster when I was alone in my little metal kingdom. I finished all the frames by eleven in the morning and as I caught sight of her walking down to join me, I could tell that she had been putting it off for a while.

-So, you wanted to show me how quick you are with your hands, zebby?
-Oh, I think you know that already in another context, I hummed as I hugged her and slipped my fingers down her pants to rub at her. Still, it’s that much less background noise to have to worry about while we’re having a good time down here.
-Good time, huh? Reading my mind again, purred Boreale as she dropped her shorts, are you?
-Rule number six, I nodded as I obeyed the precept. Shall we try to see if we can beat yesterday’s speed record?
-I’m in no hurry, she whispered as she sat on my lap at the bench.

We doubled the production time for each unit, though the main consideration wasn’t exactly the efficiency of our assembly line, to put it simply. Still, with all our outsourced parts bumping against our door three hours early, we were able to put everything in the plastic crate we’d be bringing along just before a late lunch, copious and well deserved after having skipped breakfast. I made arrangements with Rust for the transport of the goods, using our usual networks to have the controlled goods shipped with a blind eye, which normally represented half the selling price of anything I sent overseas, a fact we always took into account in our dealings. The lemur had taken care of our own travel arrangements since our conversation, first-class seats on a private flight that would leave in the early hours of the next day.

-It’s not that I had a choice, explained Rust, but the only flights that were still open were business or first class, so while we were at it, I thought it was worth the money to get that extra glass of free wine on the flight, right?
-I’m not going to put up a fuss, I replied. In the meantime, are you packed yet?
-Oh, I’ll get to that eventually. You and Boreale and already set?
-While the metal zealot here was busy with his toys this morning I took care of it, nodded the cougaress as she nibbled at my mane. Hmm, you’re sweaty, Craven...
-You’ll have to specify what you’re chewing on, I retorted. Hey, it’s just two o’clock! What do you two say about going for a bit of skating on the canal? The NCC just opened it yesterday, so the ice should be pretty sweet.
-Just so you don’t think you can outdo everyone around here, sure, chuckled the lemur. Come on, Boreale, you’re not becoming a house cat, are you? Catamounts are born for the great outdoors!
-Oh you two always try to show off, don’t you?
-Are you saying you think you can go faster then us?
-I won’t just say it; I’ll show you too!

The four o’clock scream from the bedside radio was as much appreciated as it was berated as Boreale and I got up amidst its electronic cacophony in total darkness. We really had gone too hard on ourselves on the Rideau Canal, world renowned as being the world’s longest canal with over 7.8 kilometres of groomed ice, though our tally was more in the order of thirty, as none of the three had given up until Rust had stopped for a beaver tail pastry at one of the shacks, hence stopping and implicitly declaring his defeat. We had actually invited him to stay for the night rather then continue onto his room, which he had accepted, and as we headed to the washroom for our daily grooming, I could see him getting up himself. My showers were stuffs of legend, short and efficient affairs that were the ultimate opposite of Boreale’s, which could last upwards of half an hour, so I was out of there long before her. Looking back at the sofa that the lemur was camping out on, I saw the sleeping creature had migrated out of the covers and well, didn’t have much between him and nature, to use a euphemism.

Slut I am, I crept over to him and squatting down aside his roost, located his member and inserting it in my mouth, started to give him pretty decent head, in my opinion. Getting up with a start, Rust looked down at me half his mask rose in interrogation, but a single cute wink was all I needed to convince him to take it easy and let me work while I lowered my boxers and started masturbating. It was far from being the first time that I blew the ringtail, and I knew my way around his privates like a roadmap, getting him right up to the point of shooting off, then relaxing my pace three times before I passed the limit of his self control and he came in my throat. As he was about to say something smart about the experience, I kicked to my hooves and a good two hundred millilitres of zebra cum fired out of my cock and sprayed his upper chest. That too, wasn’t a first between us, actually one of the best-case scenarios that Rust could have hoped for after the one faithful evening Alex, John, Nereid and I had ambushed him in his room. What had ensued after that was a proof that some Sodomites had made it out of the city before it had been razed, though from the lemur’s reaction, he hadn’t really forsook the experience.

All Boreale saw of the event was a striped charcoal and white tail whiz by her as Rust headed into the washroom to clean up for our trip. Still, the grin she gave me before bursting into laughter was all I needed to hear to understand that she had read between the lines and it was no mystery what I had put him through. Ten minutes later, we were on a taxi, riding to the airport with everything we needed in the trunk, including the rifles, which Rust had arranged to be in the luggage compartment so it didn’t leave our sight for any length of time. I couldn’t see myself reasoning an official at Charles de Gaulle International with the weapons stacked aside me that we were just on a tourist expedition, really. We got on the aircraft without event after having put away a few hotel-sized bottles of assorted spirits, dozing off seconds after takeoff, leaving out belts on so no one would wake us up if we ran into turbulence or anything that would require for us to put them back on. Sure, we were missing out on the first few hours of the luxury flight, but one of advantages to these seats, after all, was how comfortable they were and the leg room we had to sprawl out our legs to sleep even more unhindered, so technically, we weren’t missing out on anything.

As well as I was in the seat, my nostrils soon reported delightful smells in the vicinity, and I came about with a pool of Boreale’s saliva on my right shoulder and an almost equal one belonging to Rust on my left in time to see the steward handing our servings of beef bourguignon I wouldn’t have missed for the world. Fine, I’m a zebra, I’ll give the reader that, but on the other hand, most meat-based meals were just too good to pass on, and the only real consequences to me was the fact that I just didn’t digest the majority of the protein properly, nothing that stopped me from enjoying the nutritious benefits of the rest of the ingredients, including the sweet little sautéed mushrooms that floated in the rich brown sauce. Heck, most of the herbivores of the world did the same thing, save for a few self-conscious souls that swore off the stuff and treated anyone who didn’t like demons or cannibals or something in the same category. I hung around Boreale too much to care, I suppose.

The landing was a bit bumpier then I would have hoped, as most of the warm updrafts that caused the plane to loose altitude came on pretty in the downwards trajectory, but by the time we hit the runway, the pilot had been able to straighten out our course. That fact aside, along with the unpleasant session in the loo I’d had to suffer through as a consequence of my carnivore habit, I was a bit saddened that the flight was over, such a good memory it had been. We had more pressing matters at hand though, as in getting to our hotel with our things, where we’d be sure they would be safe until our client was reached. Hailing another cab, a ‘taxi bleu’ as they called themselves with coloration to support the claim, we scooted to the nice pad Rust had singled out for us and packaged with the flight to save money, for after all, even if we had a lot in our coffers, there was no reason to waste any either. I almost laughed at the sight of the establishment, which was almost a mirror image of our own home back in Ottawa, having formerly been a member of the same defunct chain, but as we rolled our luggage inside, I had to admit I liked what Alex and John had done with our place a bit more. Bah, it was personal taste, nothing more and the rooms were no less welcoming.

The lemur didn’t waste a second to call our client, who’s contact location was just two block away, though as soon as he got hold of him, we were informed it was just a front they used and it wouldn’t be a good idea for us to bring the rifles there. Instead, a car was to be sent for us to bring us to a more formal meeting with the leaders of the organization that we were going to deal with. I didn’t say anything, standing aside with a slight tick until Rust hung up and informed us that we were expected downstairs in half an hour. The sun was setting with the thirteen-hour flight having eaten up the day but still, there was a huge priority to securing relations with our new friends, as well as getting payment for the wares we had with us, not to mention whatever other services they were expecting from us. To date, after all, we had been acting out of good faith rather then on any sort of retainer, and it wouldn’t be bad to have a few euros in our hands to make sure that we were actually on the right path. I thought it was a bit brash of Nereid to send us over there without more tangible proof of their intents, but I have to admit that the month had been pretty dead and getting a big break like this to help the bottom line wasn’t something to be blindly snubbed out of unfounded fear.

On time, a black limousine was waiting for us in the parking at the prescribed time, and we were there as well to welcome it, placing the plastic crate in the back before boarding, finding ourselves alone with a single soul, a lion wearing a black ensemble that brought his golden mane out in both a dramatic and commanding fashion. He seemed very nice though and had a very noble air to him that brought even more charisma to his person, but until he reached out to shake our hands, I hadn’t noticed the fact he was missing his right forearm, replaced by an articulated hook prosthetic. I didn’t pay any attention to it and kept to my discourse, greeting him very politely.

-Bonjour, monsieur. May we speak in English? My colleague here does not understand French.
-Of course, replied the lion. I am Henri Appolinaire, of the Front Courageux. Not to seem too forwards, but that crate you placed in the trunk contained the merchandise that we had asked for?
-Ten snipers, our most recent and outstanding examples of mechanical engineering. I think you’ll find their performance to your liking.
-Then I must pay you in consequence, said the lion, reaching under his seat to hand a bag to me containing emeralds. I hope that you accept those as currency. We rarely make use of any common coin in favour of more easily exchangeable goods.
-We’re used to gems, nodded Rust as he took the stones in his care. I take it we are heading to a location that would be more familiar to you then us?
-Please understand, it isn’t out of mistrust that I insisted on meeting you like this, but rather caution. You see we have a very secretive existence, due to the very nature of what we represent. I’d be glad to expand on that as soon as we reach our destination. Actually, if you may, I believe we have reached it now. After you, oh... sorry, I didn’t give you a chance to introduce yourselves.
-Craven, Rust and Boreale, I answered as we got out of the car and headed into a five-story residential block. Our pleasure, of course.
-Of course, continued the lion as we were joined by two more of his people in black uniforms. Do not be alarmed, these good men are here for my protection, not out of lack of trust in you.
-No problem, shrugged Rust as we turned into a large office on the third floor, lavishly decorated with symbols none of us recognized, save for a version of the flag of the Republic with a golden crest at it’s upper right corner. I see a theme, Henri.
-We are proud of our creed, waved the cat. I suppose that I should give you a certain presentation regarding who we are. From our guises, I’m certain that you may have inferred that our nature is paramilitary. We are not revolutionaries, nor madmen with utopic ideals we seek to impress upon the country, nothing of the sort.
-Nor are you mercenaries, I stated, of that I’m certain.
-Our calling is quite opposite to that of a soldier of fortune’s. We serve to protect the good people of France, those that truly represent its heart and soul. You certainly saw the riots last year in the streets, didn’t you? When those without love for our beautiful country marched in the streets and caused havoc and anarchy?
-We did, said Rust.
-What you most probably did not see, or at least I hope you didn’t, were those who ushered people to safety from these theatres of violence and fought back with force against the vandals. We protected the victims of these attacks, and continue to protect those who find themselves targeted by the animals behind them.
-So you stand in the face of this continuing violence then? I know there is tension in some of the more popular neighbourhoods, but is it so omnipresent?
-Le coeur de la France saigne et se meurt sous leurs coups de poignard, called Henri with renewed energy. We do what we can to help, but there is just so much we can offer. After all, our money comes from many sources, mostly sympathizers who have enough of the violence and the minority that perpetrates it.
-I take it that the rifles will help to cover dangerous streets and protect the innocent?
-Such is their fate, yes, smiled the lion as he took a cigarette from his pocket in his hook and lit it. You don’t mind if I smoke?
-No, not at all, replied Rust. So what further aid may we offer?
-We have a good list of equipment that we require, mostly weapons and protective gear. I would be glad to source these from you, if you would accept.
-An arrangement can be reached, I’m sure, I commented.
-Perfect, called Henri as he passed me a spreadsheet summing his needs. Payment could be made a bit simpler, if you wish, as I don’t suppose gems are easy to send you as it is to transfer funds in accounts. Nonetheless, there-

The lion’s talk was cut short as another figure walked into the room to our left with a pistol drawn and aiming at Henri, snapped off four shots into his chest. Rust and I had the same instinct, reaching for our own firearms, though unlike the lemur who packed a magnum at his side, I had one of my best-selling ultra light submachine guns under my coat and while the attacker received two good high-calibre rounds from the ringtail, over a dozen of my bullets trailed in him towards his head, three of them hitting the latter. The guards outside rushed in, looking taken aback by the assault, waiting until I had ran to Henri’s side to see what we could to for him. I had observed that no blood had sputtered from the lion’s wounds, and as I opened his shirt, I saw that he had been wearing body armour.

Nonetheless, the material had only accomplished its intended purpose, for even if the projectiles hadn’t penetrated the thick pad, the energy that they had carried hadn’t been absorbed and propagated into Henri, enough from what I could tell to put him in cardiac arrest by ventricular fibrillation. I called for them to get help while I took him off his chair and placed him on the ground and started performing CPR, though a good two minutes had passed before one of the guards came back with a portable defibrillator. Having the most first-aid and emergency medicine experience, Rust and I took over the operation of the device, though it took us another few precious seconds before we were able to apply the lifesaving pulse that managed by some miraculous intervention to restart the lion’s heartbeat. Still, even if his life was saved, he required further medical attention to fully recover from his brush with death, and an ambulance arrived shortly thereafter to pick him up from the lobby, as it was simply unacceptable for them to come into his office where Rust had started to clean up the scene with a few guards’ help. As the emergency vehicle rolled off to carry him to proper medical facilities, I sat aside Boreale and Rust in the now ‘sanitized’ office.

-Why is it that death just follows me when I visit clients, I complained, that I can’t just have a nice quiet little arms sales without everything blowing up?
-Well, you sell them, someone uses them, replied Rust. See any blood I could have missed?
-Nope, the place looks good for a ten-minute old murder scene.
-Bah, it was pretty clean to start with. Low-velocity rounds in your gun, Craven?
-Low-velocity frangible, I replied, taking out one of the bullets from my clip. Penetration’s not too hot, but good enough for a thin calcium wall, ha!
-Well, I hate to interrupt this deep reflection on the value of low-ricochet munitions, said Boreale, but what the heck do we do now, exactly?
-That’s a good question, I said with a honk, but I can’t really give you an answer worth mentioning. I suppose that we’d be well off going back in there and asking who Henri’s second is and if he wants us to continue with what we’d started talking before the, well, interruption.
-Sensible thing to do, zebby, said Rust. Back in we go!

Leaving our comfortable stairs behind, we returned to the halls of the Front’s homestead, trying to accost someone who seemed likely to be willing to give us the information we sought. I could understand that they had concerns for their security, especially after the assassination attempt, but it was a frustrating hunt to be on with most of the souls trying to evade our questions and give us indirect answers that didn’t really get us anywhere. As I saw Rust reaching his saturation level, for as patient a ringtail he was, he had a very dangerous limit that everyone with the Urchins was smart enough not to get close to, a lioness in her late twenties came over to us as we were walking down the same corridor we’d haunted for just over an hour. She had a very familiar look to her, sort of a deja-vu of our host, but I hadn’t paid enough attention to the lion to really take a mental snapshot of his traits, so I couldn’t actually say if she was related to Henri at first glance and I didn’t want to make the silly faux pas of assuming she was and insulting her. Still, the name she introduced herself by as she hailed us was exactly what I had thought.

-Hello, I’m Athena, said the woman. I believe that you three as the ones who saved my father in his office?
-We did what we could, replied Rust. What gave us away?
-Hardly anyone here speaks English as a first language, so I suppose that you were pretty easy to make out by following my ears.
-I’m sorry that we were unable to prevent his attacker from firing, I stated. We really didn’t expect for such a thing to happen.
-There’s nothing you could have done unless you were God himself, but you did all a good man could be expected to, corrected Athena. Come with me, and I’ll try to give you a better idea of what we’re about.
-Thanks, called Boreale as we walked into another office, this one much less decorated and more lived in then the small museum we’d been in earlier.
-I take it that my father already gave you the grand version of what our people do here? He always gives great first impressions; I’ll give him that.
-What do you mean, I asked, by great first impression? There’s more?
-Rather there’s less, the lioness replied as we sat down for a spell. As you can see, not all the rooms here are trophy halls like my father’s office. In reality, very few of us have more then the basics. We’re not a huge movement with astronomical funding behind us to back up our ambitions, quite the opposite. We do with what we have, which is for the most part just small donations from individuals and a handful of larger ones from right-wing organizations that believe in what we do. I hope that though your ideals may differ from ours, you may understand why we defend our traditional values here.
-My entire family voted ‘yes’ at the last referendum in Quebec, I stated. You don’t have to talk very long to convince me about how important the pure and true culture of a country is to the people who founded it.
-I’m glad to hear it, smiled the woman. In terms of votes, we’re all behind Jean-Marie Le Pen, of course. You know him?
-It’s healthy to have a Front National in a country to keep things grounded, I answered with a grin.
-Certainly is! Well that said, I don’t want you three to think that we have huge plans for the future. Most of our members are volunteers that give their free time for the greater good, rather then salaried employees. Only my father, a few core personnel and I receive anything from our accounts and you can rest assured that we’re not millionaires here. I’m not asking for pity or condescendence here, but I’m just trying to give you a more unbiased story.
-I understand, I nodded as I looked her over for a second. I suppose that those rifles we delivered today represented quite a sum, then?
-What? He ordered the snipers, spat the lioness, I can’t believe it! That means… oh no! That means we won’t even finish the year. How… how much did he pay you?
-He gave us these, said Rust as he showed some of the emeralds to her. That’s about a hundred and ten thousand dollar’s worth, about twenty thousand under the price of your pieces, Craven?
-About, but that’s a flexible price.
-Okay, fine he got his damn rifles, moaned Athena as she put an elbow on her desk and rested her face in her paw. We’ll be closing shop here, so I don’t think you’ll have much more business from us, I’m afraid.
- Henri gave us this list of more things he said you needed, I innocently offered as I produced the paper. I take it that was just something he said to keep us interested?
-More of his dreams about what we are, yowled the lioness as she started breaking down. He thinks we’re superheroes, some sort of higher power, not a few good-hearted beggars like we actually are. It started off okay, but then I think the authority started getting to him. First, the limousine, then the publicity spots on television, and now this? We can’t hope to make it, not anymore.
-Rust, pass me the bag, I said as I held my hand out to the lemur.
-Zebby, you’re not thinking what I hope you’re not thinking?
-Trust me, I most certainly do. The bag?
-Financial suicide in one gesture, sighed the ringtail as he gave me the gems that I in turn put into Athena’s paw and closed her fingers.
-What are you doing, asked the lioness, those are yours! You’re giving us the guns for free?
-For starters. Now with this settled, let’s talk, eh?
-Even if we have the best weapons money apparently can’t buy, we’re still not a force anymore, said the cat as she blew her nose in a tissue and took a deep breath to settle down. I mean, my father’s scaring our oldest supporters with his latest decisions. Between being guardian angels and murderers, there’s a difference.
-Murderers? I don’t think I follow you, commented Boreale.
-You see, the groups that really go out of their way to go after people here in the city aren’t petty thugs that do it for thrills, explained Athena. I’m sure wherever you’re from, you have gangs too, but what we deal with are packs of rabid creatures that use their beliefs and origins as a shield to do what they want. First, they throw incendiary cocktails at buildings, then the moment the Sureté Nationale shows up, they’re screaming police brutality and racial discrimination. Sorry to be so quick to judge, but it makes me sick. They’re turning into hardened organizations that stay in ghettos they rule like kingdoms, and they’re free to run unchecked.
-So you know who and where they are, I inferred.
-Yes, and though we’ve all thought about it ourselves, we didn’t plan on targeting them as directly as my father presented that he wanted to.
-So he wants to go in and break them, stated Rust, is that it?
-Pretty much, nodded the lioness. I don’t think it’s not a good idea, maybe it could be done, but the police will be after us after that and we certainly don’t have the manpower to do it!
-Rust, I hummed as I tapped the lemur’s shoulder, are you on the same train of thought as me?
-Hey, wait up, zebby! We don’t have the Russian army behind us on this one! We’re three people and not wanting to discredit you, Boreale, but only two of us have really handled guns in a practical setting. Even with a few good people from this place, I don’t think that we can possibly have that much punch.
-I suppose so, I sighed. Sorry, my inspiration sort of got ahead of me there... there should be a way, though, something. Let’s write this down, once thing at a time. What’s keeping us from going into these people’s living room with a knife and slitting their throats?
-Is that rhetorical, asked Athena, or do you want an answer to that?
-Answers, all you can think of, I insisted.

For the better part of an hour, we were scribbling all the obstacles to our elimination of the creepers that appeared to be the bane of Athena’s existence, which was more at the centre of our attention then her movement. After all, we certainly had more feelings for her then whatever ideals the Front represented and seeing the smile on her face as we made some progress and connected the dots to determine what steps we needed to take to get in a better position was more then enough for us to feel prompted to continue. We basically had to have some kind of authorization from the gendarmes to rock and roll, then after that, gather enough intelligence on where we could find the more dangerous members of the gang’s leadership, and then we were pretty much ready to knock on their door, put a pistol to their chin and spray some brain stucco on in a linear fashion. I tried to stay cool about the enterprise, not that I minded contemplating something of the sort after having snapped an unarmed triad member’s neck in cold blood a few months ago with my bare hands. Rust had his usual professional air to him, giving whatever sensible insight he had about what he voiced as being a completely impossible quest that would end about as well as Charles Berlitz’s search for Atlantis.

I was the first to volunteer myself to go to see what the police felt about us going out and popping a few heads in their backyard and either my friends were too stunned to react, or their silence was a sort of approbation.

-I’d certainly like to know that there’s a back door I can slip out of if this doesn’t work, I groaned as I thought more seriously about the implications of my offer. Well, I suppose that I have to face it down.
-It’ll look bad if we’re a bunch of people, shrugged Rust. It’s up to you, Craven. I think it’s insane, but it’s your call.
-Fine, I’ll be off, I said with a wave as I got to my hooves. Can someone point me in the right direction?
-Here, started Athena as see took a tourist attraction map from a shelf aside her and traced my route on it. It’s about a ten-minute walk, healthy young soul you are.

I rolled my eyes with a sigh of resignation as I left the company my homies and discretely checked my clip to see what sort of inventory I had left should things just take the most abysmal turn possible. Just to be certain that I wouldn’t run out, I put the weapon on single fire mode and tucked it back into my belt. Paris was a nice old city, and I could tell that even from the side streets outside the more famous areas of the metropolis, there was some fun to have here if we could get a few moments to ourselves. Still, there was something about this particular neighbourhood I didn’t like, for some reason. Even with the Second Genesis drowned in history, there was some level of instinctual reaction to predators that had stuck with my kind, or at least with me. At the moment, it was telling me that I shouldn’t be moving my good hand too far from my SMG’s grip. Was it right? You bet it was.

I was turning a corner to take one of the really very vaguely marked detours that Athena had penned on the map, most of which I negotiated probably a block too far but heck, I did what I could and from what I could tell, I was still in the right direction. Right there, about ten meters away, two hoods were pushing around a gendarme who had made the mistake of dropping his baton and was just trying to cower back from the two chaps. Good citizen I am, or at least tourist, I called out to them to get lost with about the worst of my French Canadian accent and curses spewing out, not that I suspected they understood half of the regionalisms. Reacting quickly, one of the thugs took the fallen baton and came at me with the stick raised above his head to put it between my ears. For some reason, I didn’t have any intention on letting him do it and six fragmenting bullets entered his shoulder with compliments from my UX74-090 communicated that feeling to him as he dropped, clutching his mangled limb. His wingman was holding the policeman against the wall, looking at the smoke rise from my weapon before he was privy to two good, healthy bursts to convince him to desist.

-Ça va, monsieur l’agent?
-Oui, merci! Ils me sont tombés dessus tout d’un coup! Vous les avez tirés?
-Ils ne sont que blessés, ils ont seulement besoin d’un toubib, c’est tout. Vous pouvez appeler le poste?
-Ah, ça oui. Je ne veux pas me montrer ingrat, mais ce genre d’arme est illégal ici, toutefois.
-Allez, pour nettoyer cette vermine, on ne va pas se faire de chichi?
-Présenté comme ça, on peut laisser tomber!

After a few minutes, an ambulance came by to pick up the two hoods, escorted by a police car that gave the beat-up soul and me a ride to his place of work. I expected to have a few serious questions to face when we got out of the cruiser, but all that was waiting for us was a medic to look the victim over and his supervisor who was quite eager to know whom the heck I was. I decided to play all my cards face up, and stated to the mule that I’d rather talk about it somewhere less public. He didn’t put up a front either, showing me into his office near the entrance of the station before we got better acquainted. For the sake of those who didn’t understand the previous exchange, I’ll translate from here on out in this account.

-I am Commandant Julien Champagne, said the ass, prefecture of the 20th arrondissement. My thanks for having stood up for my man in the streets, but I think you can understand my concern about your means.
-I did what I could to help with what means I had at hand, I stated as I put my firearm on the desk. I’m Craven Froids, weapons designer and member of the Ulrich Clan of Ottawa.
-Really now, how interesting, laughed the Commandant, obviously not expecting the reply. This is one of yours?
-My finest compact SMG, I nodded, the fruit of quite a few sleepless nights at the computer.
-If I may ask, continued Julien as he returned my item to me, why did you have this with you today, exactly?
-Because I have friends here in the city that warned me about how dangerous life had become in their ‘hood. Though they themselves defend other souls, I didn’t think that it was beyond my own abilities to save them the trouble of having to think about protecting me as well.
-Ah, I think you mean you’re friendly with the Front Courageux? I see. You see, Mr Froids, that’s a problem to me right now, seeing as how I received orders from my Constable to prepare an operation to arrest Mr Appolinaire’s group on several charges of terrorism and attempted murder, just to say that we don’t have enough evidence to convict him of any actual hits.
-Still, you must recognize the mitigating circumstances in which those actions were taken, I added.
-That’s not in my hands, though be certain that I take no pleasure in this. The FC was a good bunch a few years ago, but since they’re radicalized and become too, how to say it, proactive? Between escorting people and offering their protection, and committing what could very easily be qualified as hate crimes by the general public, the escalation is far too great to ignore.
-Should they return to their previous activities and no longer partake in anything more violent, could something be worked out?
-You seem to have more interest in this then I thought, hummed Julien. You’re walking on thin ice, monsieur.
-It may be thin, but like you said, the FC was once a good bunch, and the problems you seem to point out are the working of only one person, not them collectively. To be honest, I doubt that he’s in his right mind and his actions were the product of less then rational patterns of thought.
-You mean to tell me that you’re offering to trade Henri Appolinaire for the safety of the rest of his group?
-There is no provision in law to try someone with psychological problems as those that afflict him. At best, your verdict would be not guilty for reason of mental alienation, and he would be placed in a mental institution. Think of the effects that would have, what a victory for those he sought to keep at bay that would represent, for him to be dragged through the mud the papers would throw at him, only to end up in a padded cell. Though more symbolic then of any actual use, that course of action would be a blow to anyone who had hope for a better, safer place to live.
-Wait here, I’m going to see if I can get my superior, said the mule as he got up and left me in his office.

I waited for fifteen minutes before Julien returned with a degu with him, introducing him as Constable Billy Jodoin as they sat down. This was good, I thought as I looked at them and let the mule take care of explaining the situation to the degu, who seemed interested enough by the facts that he didn’t give any comments until he’d finished. As Julien turned his attention back at me to continue, the Constable finally spoke.

-I have to say that I’m very surprised that anyone would be this gutsy, Craven. Don’t take it as an insult or a threat, but I’m not used to being second-guessed here. As far as I’m concerned, my duty is to protect everyone on my territory and the FC is a visible danger. Still, I’m not happy about the thought of what you said, either. Like I said, I don’t like second guesses, but I’ll ask; what do you think we should do instead, zebra?
-First, to settle your concerns, Henri would be removed from his position of authority and placed in a less visible and artificial one where he can’t do any harm, under surveillance and receiving counselling.
-And the FC would be willing to do that?
-They would, and there are leadership cadres that would take over and take care of the group in his place in a less centralized, more democratic manner to avoid further problems. Second, to make sure that they don’t commit any excesses, you could open a dialog to settle legal responsibilities. After all, having a parallel policing force like them could surely take a certain burden off you, so you’d only have to intervene in more dangerous situations. In addition to that, they can gather more information about problematic groups and individuals they encounter to report them to you.
-Hmm, interesting idea, groaned Billy. I wouldn’t have conceived it, but it has its merit. If you can make the first part happen, then we’ll see about the second as a pilot project. We’ll withhold the charges, as insurance, but if we see that this works out, we’ll drop them.
-In return, I know that the FC had information regarding a ghetto that’s formed in your backyard that can be held responsible for a long list of crimes, mostly assault, theft and extortion. As a sign of good faith, perhaps something could be arranged to between both of you to take care of them together?
-A den of thieves, eh? I’d certainly like to know more, nodded the degu. How long to you think you’d need to take care of your side of the deal?
-I’ll go back right now, and I’ll stay in touch with you. Can I have your numbers or something?
-Here, cut Julien as he passed me his business card.
-And mine, seconded Billy. As soon as you can produce something to prove that the FC is playing by the rules, give us a call and we’ll make good on our part.
-Fair enough, I nodded as I got up to go. I’ll try to make this as fast as I can!

I didn’t want to prolong the discussion past where we’d carried it, just to leave a few jokers in my deck and make sure that the gendarmes didn’t change their minds about their offer. The terms that the Constable had outlined were decent and would give Athena a lot to work with, at least if she accepted to move her father out of the leadership, something that I didn’t think she would mind, seeing what lunacies she had accused him of committing. I reflected on the conversation as I followed my plan back to the FC’s residences, seeing that nearly every point that we had written in our negativistic review of the group’s position had been addressed by the exchange that would be set up. I saw Rust looking out the window of the lioness’s office as I walked in front of the place, and walking into the room, I saw that neither he nor Boreale had left for the whole time I had been out, entertaining Athena to keep her in good spirits.

I cut right to the bottom line of the negotiations with Julien and Billy, nor exactly wording the affair as an ultimatum, but not too far from that. After all, the woman had to understand exactly where the gendarmes stood with regards to her people, especially Henri. She didn’t seem surprised that he had attracted undesirable attention to them with his bad decisions, but the extent of the police’s response was far beyond what she was expecting.

-They’d arrest all of us? That’s a bit much, spat the lioness, really!
-Well, look at it their way. Without him and without knowing if his intentions represent those of the entire Front, it’s a reasonable course of action to make sure that no one else in the group could carry them through. On the other hand, this is a very good way out, Athena.
-To declare my father insane and put him aside? He’d never accept, waved the woman. It’s not that I don’t think that it’s not a good idea, but he’d never accept it. He’s a stubborn man, Craven, very stubborn, and if he gets wind of this, he’ll go out of his mind.
-There’s a difference between being stubborn and endangering your friends and family to satisfy your delusions, I corrected. I know you believe in what you do, Athena, but I won’t believe you if you tell me that you’d be willing to risk life and limb for it.
-I have other plans for my life, sighed the lioness as she settled in her seat and crossed her hands over to rest her palms on her shoulders. To tell you the truth, if my father’s to be relieved of his position and other people of our group to take his place, I’d certainly welcome it as a chance to make for the door myself.
-Then you’re willing to go along with this plan?
-I don’t see it as a choice, she shrugged. I’ll just go meet with the three that I think will be taking over here, and I’ll be back with an answer. I’d rather do this with their consent.

Athena walked out of her office to visit two other rooms across the hall, though when she talked to her allies, they kept the door closed and none of the three of us could hear anything beyond muffled voices. There were no voices raised though or louder comments, so I stayed optimistic until she returned with a smile on her face.

-They’re comfortable with the offer, she stated as she sat down at her computer and started typing a letter to inform the Constable of her decision. I’ll sign this, because I don’t think that my father is a factor as this point, and if I’m going to have him evaluated to declare him unfit, then his signature isn’t worth the paper it’s on.
-Good call, I said as we waited for her to finish and print the document. I’ll co-sign, if you want.
-Just to witness the fact that I’m who I say I am, grinned the lioness. There! Good luck Craven, and we’ll start taking care of the only real obstacle to this plan while you’re out.

(Switch to Rust)

I had to admit that Craven had heart, if not a certain genius that he used with more recklessness then it was sound to. Being a point, my main concern was always rather for the safety of the Clan rather then it’s expansion or politics pertaining to it, as that was rather Nereid’s problem under normal circumstances. I suppose that lack of aspiration and protective spirit was what had pushed me to talk the dolphin into giving Craven the title of Don-heir instead of me, along with the fact I missed the time that I would be cheating my daughter out of if I took the seat. He and Boreale made a good team, their morality aside. Athena was like me, I felt as I glanced at her from the corner of my eye, too cautious to take on adventures that she didn’t think she could pull out of without a few scrapes. While I was busy sorting out the common points between our groups, the cougaress retired to get some rest in one of the guest rooms the lioness had offered her earlier, leaving me with her to see to Henri’s dismissal from active duty.

-Man, this is a lot in one day, sighed Athena as she crossed her arms on he desk and put her head on them. Does that zebra always have that much energy?
-Always and sometime more, I replied as I leaned over the desk to give her a compassionate pat and shake. Getting tired, Athena?
-I wish I’d have a cuter name, bitched the woman. I mean it’s just not feminine, and if you know your mythology, she had a shitty life too.
-I’m named after an iron oxide, I said with a grin, how fun!
-What, Rust is your actual name? I thought it was a nickname or something!
-Given name, I insisted, showing her my driver’s license.
-Pat my back again, muttered the lioness as she closed her eyes.
-Okay, I answered as I obeyed. What’s wrong with it?
-I haven’t even gotten a hug from anyone in years, she said as she crossed her arms again. You’ll think it’s pathetic, but when I do this it’s sort of because it feels like I’m getting one.
-Want a real one, I offered with my arms open, just for a change?
-Sure, laughed Athena as we shared a long, warm embrace and she put her chin over my shoulder. Hmm, super...
-Hey, I whispered as I ran a hand down her neck and upper back, getting comfortable?
-Pretty much, she hummed. This is strange though.
-In what way?
-Well, I just figured out that I’ve burnt ever bridge behind me, so to speak. See, my father is my only family, with my mother having passed on years ago, and I don’t think that after he finds out what I did that he’ll be talking to me any time soon, see ever. After that, by forming this alliance with the police, I’ll be losing every contact that we had in the hard right that we sort of rubbed shoulders with, so there’s for that. That leaves this group, and I just basically openly declared to my father’s three aide de camps over there that brokering this deal is my last official act as a directing figure, so I’m out of a job, so to speak, unless I join the volunteers, which still won’t make me a single euro. I just signed away the life I’ve had for the last ten years... sorry Rust, but I feel like crying a bit right now to let some pain out. If you want to go see Boreale, it might be for the better.
-No it wouldn’t, I corrected as I felt a few of her tears fall on my black leather jacket, beading on the waterproof material. You’re a brave lioness, Athena.
-Athena again, quietly moaned the woman between a few deafened sobs. I don’t like that name anymore...
-How about Freya? Your fur is as gold as her hair, and your heart as sweet and true.
-Sure, sighed the lioness, coming out of her lethargy for a moment before returning to her healing release.

I held the woman against me for over fifteen minutes, but she lost the feelings she’d tried to shed after maybe five, keeping the rest of the time for quiet contemplation only she could know the nature of. I didn’t speak, simply continuing to brush her coarse fur in both directions with one hand while the other kept a good hold on her right below her chest. She eventually pulled her head off my shoulder and brushed her face to fluff her matted fur, then taking my head in a gentle gesture, pulled me into a kiss with her deep brown eyes closed. I opened my mouth as far as I could comfortably do it, finding a match with her larger maw as out lips pressed together and I felt her heavy, warm breath mix with mine. Taking her shoulder and wrapping one around her neck, I ran my tongue along her canines then rested it against hers as I started to feel my arm vibrate with her purrs. Freya pulled away from me slowly, opening her eyes and started tracing my sternum with a claw.

-You sure know how to give kisses, Rust, she whispered to my ear. Get up lemur, and follow the fly swatter tail...
-I’m keeping my eyes on it, I replied as I got up and followed the lioness, taking her by the end of her bushy tail as we walked down a level in the stairwell and passed a few doors before stopping at one. Who lives here, Freya?
-Someone who I used to know, she replied with a smile as we walked into the apartment. You can let go, now.
-No, I don’t think I will, I said as I ran my hand up her tail to the tail hole of her pants and slipped two fingers to rub around it’s root. I like holding it.
-Then let me make it easier to hold, she whispered as her hand reached behind her to undo her tail hole button and her other undid the fastener to the front, releasing her pants which fell to the floor to be stepped out of. Better?
-Much better, I continued as I kneeled to sensually bite at her rear through her panties. I don’t seem to taste lioness...
-Ah, she giggled as she bent down and pulled her underwear off and threw them aside. And now?
-Lioness tastes salty, I groaned as I returned to my bites.
-That all depends, I know parts that are better, she said as she moved us over to her bed and crouching on it, offer a clear way to her clit. Try it and you might just like it.
-I might, I repeated as I dragged my muzzle over to her genitals and pulling her lips apart slowly, started licking at her.

I offered probably the best oral sex I’d given in my life to Freya, all the while massaging under her tail to get her the most out of the experience. Of course, being male with all the archetypes that come with it, I was boning though my briefs at that point and took a moment to get rid of everything that separated my organ from the air, unconsciously running my leg’s fur against it to keep myself hard as possible while I stimulated my lioness. After having eaten her out for God knows how long to the point of feeling my tongue was numb, I ran my hands along her sides and pushed her a bit further onto the bed to mount her. The woman gave a low growl that ended in a laugh as I penetrated her and started moving in her then looking back over her shoulder at me, started to take off the rest of her clothes.

Before long, we had changed position to be face to face and for me to suck on her teats with her legs over my shoulders while pounding her crotch with all I had in the tank. For the best of us both and our pleasure, it took us an eternity to come, though in the name of all that walks the Earth, I couldn’t imagine any place I could dream of being then together with Freya as I put my seed in her with her yowls and my passionate calls resonating around us. The world could have vanished. It didn’t matter. We were together on that bed, and we had just fallen in love.

It took us a while to return to reality, but we didn’t feel any reason to hurry. After all, after this moment of great pleasure, what we would have to deal with next would probably not be as fun. The lioness had changed her outlook on things though, and seemed to take the task of having her father mind evaluated with much less grim and gloom then before. Calling up the hospital where he was staying to recover from his assault, she took the necessary steps through the phone tree to get to the specialists in charge of the psych ward. They seemed very reluctant to do the testing, but when she added that she didn’t require for him to be kept in institution afterwards, they changed their attitude and accepted to go ahead with it as soon as he was in a talking mood. Even with the time we’d expended on our previous activities, we managed to be right on schedule for Craven to walk into the office carrying a folder with him he passed to Freya, announcing proudly that the police had accepted her document and in return, the conditions they had bartered where now in effect.

-This is just a tentative agreement, said the zebra, but it outlines what they’re willing to yield to you in terms of authority and powers. I think that unless you get in over your head at some point, they’re enough.
-Ah, that’s not for me to decide anymore, grinned the lioness. Now that this is done, I officially resign my position here and I’m free to roam!
-Right, but that leaves the question of those organized thugs that use this place like their personal playground. Maybe as a last official action, you could stay on until that’s taken care of?
-I don’t see any problem with that, she shrugged. I take it you had some word with them regarding how we’d be barging in?
-Actually, they extended an invitation for us to participate, because they don’t have enough information on the group to be able to act. After that, we have a white card to be at their side while they move in, including hunting licenses for me and Rust.
-Sounds like out day’s booked, I started. Wait a second, listen for a second...
-You’re hearing those sirens too, asked Craven, aren’t you?
-And they’re coming closer, I called. Everyone, let’s get the hell out of here! We’ve been set up! Craven, you were followed!
-I’ll get Boreale, cried the zebra as he ran off down the corridor, returning with the catamount within seconds while we called for the Front to evacuate.

I had been part of a few missions that had gone completely wrong in my time, but this was simply a cataclysm greater then I’d ever been a party to. Black-suited figures were racing out of the building in every possible direction, though I kept the four of us together as close as possible so we wouldn’t get lost. The police cars had blocked off a few streets around the block and members of the force had already tackled a few people that had run in the wrong direction. Craven’s face was flushed with fear, but I was too busy letting my instincts kick in, trying to find either a way out or somewhere to hide. It was foolish to think that the gendarmes would leave any stone unturned in their hut for Freya, but there was no way we were going to let her be arrested, not without a good fight. That left escape, but that wasn’t a shoo-in. The longer we huddled in the doorway that we had found to hide in, the more policemen were arriving, hence our chances of making it out of the perimeter became worst with time. I grabbed the map that Craven had kept with him, looking it over to see what ways out we still had to work with, though it was soon too late to think of using any of the streets to get out of the tight cordon that had formed around the building’s vicinity.

All I could hope was that the sewers were untouched by the intervention, and with the zebra’s help, I lifted the nearest mane, asking the women to keep a lookout to make sure that we weren’t seen. As soon as it was out of the way, we climbed down into the catacombs, along with five members of the FC that had spontaneously joined us and lent their eyes to us. Carefully dragging the cover back in place, we waiting a few seconds to settle our nerves, including my own, which at that point were already fried. Overhead, we could hear more sirens passing by the alleyway and a few voices talking as policemen started their sweep. Not wanting to waste the advantage that we’d gained in the sudden change of strategy, we started down the narrow tunnel, using the orientation of our point of entry to determine our direction, though the whole deal was mostly instinctual rather then a masterpiece of genius. Whatever it was, it was getting us out further and further away from the souls that were after our skins.

We didn’t really choose where we were going, but after what seemed like an hour, we were going down a tunnel that ended in a split, one of the ends going into what we could tell was a drop into some basin and the other barred with thick steel rods. The basin didn’t seem deep enough for us to jump down to, hence the best thing we could do was to wait for the right moment to climb up the nearest manhole access and return to the light of day. Seeing as how anyone from the police who saw either any of the guys in FC uniforms, Craven or Freya would most probably tip off their friends and come after us, it wasn’t the smartest move for us to do so, not yet. I stopped, leaning against the tunnel wall to talk to the group, keeping my voice low.

-All right, we’re safe, for now, I stated. I don’t know where we are, but I’m pretty sure that we’re no longer in the 20th arrondissement. Walked west, so we should probably be in the 11th. Your faces are all wanted, but not me and Boreale.
-True, seconded the cougaress, what do you suggest we do?
-We have a few options, thankfully. The first is that us two get out of here and find a large rental vehicle like a delivery van or a box truck, then with the cover of dark, which should be in just less then an hour, I think, we come back and pick everyone up. Then, we can get to a safe hideout and see what we can do.
-First thing I want to do is put a round through a certain Contable’s head, sneered Craven.
-That’s the sort of idea that’ll waste all the effort we just put into getting out of trouble, I corrected. Now, I don’t know when the shops close their doors, but we have some work to do before they do. Come on, Boreale.

I walked to the manhole with the cat, who looked a bit shaky at the time, but still cooperated as I lifted the cover, thankfully opening on the back alley of a commercial street. Marking it by taking off the lanyard I usually hung my keys off of and tying it around two of the holes, I led the pair of us off into the streets, where we started getting down to business. I had a small wad of cash with me, just under two hundred dollars I’d converted to euros in case I needed to buy something during our tour of Paris, so we were able to hire a cab, who after a few rude comments on our smell, dropped us off at a rental company, where we were able to hire a van after I’d greased the manager’s paws with a few bills to save us some trouble regarding insurance and the usual extra paper trail that normally helped no one but the police. Driving with my foot almost standing on the gas, we drove to the closest clothing superstore we could spot and bought changes of clothes for everyone, seeing as how we’d left everything we’d brought with us back at the Front’s place, which we were quite unlikely to ever step back into. What a total bust, I sighed...

It was dark enough for us to be able to move around without too much notice as we returned to the alley, as still as it had been when we left it. Moving the cover, I popped my head into the tunnel and called to the rest of our friends to come along, appearing from the darkness after a tense moment of silence. One by one, they loaded into the van’s windowless cargo, getting a good grip as I turned back into the traffic. The first thing we heard as Boreale turned on the radio in the vehicle was a newscast about the police’s crackdown on the Front, describing them as nothing less then a group of organized fascist assassins. Though none of us liked to listen to the talk, it was good to know what our opposition was doing. Over a dozen members of the group had been thrown in jail, including two of the directors that Freya had tasked with the leadership of the group after her demission, so it was safe to say that the Front was practically no longer in existence, or at least something we could count on. What really stunned all of us was an additional bulletin regarding the fact that Henri had been located at the hospital and had been released into police custody as well. I couldn’t help but pound my fist on the steering wheel and curse as loud as I could.

-Aw fucking hell, I called out. Shit, Craven, what the hell are we doing?
-It was going to happen anyway, retorted the zebra from behind me, patting my arm to try and calm me down. The cops were ready to go in and bust the place long before we arrived, and we only bought ourselves time, nothing else. What we tried was the only thing we could try to avoid their action, and we didn’t loose anything by trying our hand.
-We could have evacuated the place, just gotten everyone out, I continued, rather then go with that. Damn, this is... this is just bad, zebby.
-I know, sighed Craven. We need to figure out what to do next, though.
-Let’s get out of Paris, suggested Boreale. We’ll probably have a better chance to find a safe place in a less populated area. Head north, Rust, let’s go in Picardy.
-Right, north it is.

Down roads unknown to almost everyone in the vehicle, we took to the countryside, doing our best to spot somewhere we could stop and gather ourselves. Two hours of blind driving later, we stopped at a farmhouse where I was able to negotiate with the occupants to let us park in their barn for the night in exchange for the rest of the money I had gathered from our lot. In the light of the half-dozen electric lights that hung from the rafters in the structure, half full of old hay and agricultural debris that gave off a sort of comforting, earthy smell, we got out and formed a circle to discuss where we stood. It was sort of annoying to be the dark cloud in everyone’s blue sky, but I tried to keep our ideas focused on the feasible. Freya looked pretty bleak, lying down aside me and resting her head on my shoulder while I hugged her.

-Is the lioness worried, I asked, or just tired?
-I’ve been tired for too long to know what that means, yowled the cat. I just want this to be over with, however it ends.
-And your father, asked Craven, what about him?
-He brought this on us, growled Freya as she narrowed her eyes at the zebra, who I could tell moved away a few inches. If he hadn’t gone out of his way to play Napoleon, we’d be back in Paris, safe and sound! Sure beats running for your life in the sewers then getting covered in damp hay out in the sticks, doesn’t it?
-Craven, you’re thinking about him, I stated, in what way?
-Well, I thought we might be able to...
-What, I laughed as I got up and strode over to look at the striped man muzzle-to-muzzle, you thought we might be able to bust him out? Along with the rest of the Front, while you’re at it?
-Well...
-Forget it, I shot as I walked back to the lioness’ side. Forget it Craven, we’re not even going to try that sort of thing! You’ve already potentially gotten yourself charged with several counts of assisting a fugitive, at least, which I’m sorry to say, will either cost us a good bundle to pay for to be pardoned or mean that you’ll be changing identity for your own protection. If we’re lucky, then the members of the Front that got caught will do a few years for their involvement in the group, Henri will get put in a state asylum and they’ll forget about the rest of us. This contract has already cost us way, way too much and put us in more danger then we can afford to.
-I just wanted to help everyone, moaned the zebra as he got up and walked off to the other end of the barn with Boreale, audibly crying hot tears. I just wanted to help, that’s all.
-Shit, I sighed as I felt Freya settle her head against mine. How bad does it get...
-He was doing what he thought would work out, whispered the lioness.
-I know, I said as I left to get a breath of fresh air outside.

For once, a first in a long time, I didn’t know what the heck we could do to set this mess right. I tried to forget the whole deal as I looked out into the sky, imagining myself as one of the orbs rather then the miserable lemur I felt like. Craven had screwed up, but I had screwed up even worst to let him go out to the station unescorted. The kid was just twenty-five years of zebra after all, a mechanical engineer who drew guns and screwed around with his common-law kitten, not a made man, not someone with a history of dealing with trouble like me. Maybe I could have handled things better, but I didn’t like having stuff go out of control like this. Damn it, Rust, concentrate, think! You’re broke, in the middle of a foreign country, with the police after your friends, what can you do? I heard a sound behind me, breaking my useless trance to have me turn around and look at Craven, holding his arms open to me.

-I’m sorry, Rust, said the zebra.
-Me too, Craven, I sighed as I walked towards him and gave him a big hug. I’m sorry, I just lost it there.
-No, you’re right! What you said was totally right. I just want to go home, Rusty.
-I feel bad leaving this mess behind us, though. Man, if that plan of yours had been honoured, it would have been perfect! Now there are hoods running around without anyone who knows them well enough to keep them under control, good people in jail, my lioness’ father in the balance, and not a coin in our pockets.
-Actually, I took these before leaving, grinned Craven as he took the emerald bag from his pocket. I just though that it was silly leaving these rocks behind for the cops to take home.
-I’d have to agree, I said with a long laugh, taking the zebra against me again. God, you’re always pulling new ones from your sleeves! So, what do you say we get some rest and see what we can pull together tomorrow?
-Sounds good to me, nodded the zebby as he put his arm across my shoulders and we walked back into the barn.

I didn’t want to have any trouble from the goof folks that had offered us hospitality, so we moved out at first light. We had a full tank of gas and a lot of ideas, mostly based on finding a way to get back to Miami. Freya had plainly stated that where I went, she did too as we’d fallen asleep, and her opinion hadn’t changed as I asked her about it when we pulled back onto the main road. I questioned the others in the back, but their intentions were different, actually asking to get dropped off back somewhere near Paris so without their uniforms, they could return to their former occupations or start again somewhere they were familiar with. A few miles from the farm, we pulled by the side of the side of a pretty deserted stretch of the highway and ditched the FC getups, setting them on fire to make sure there was as little to find as possible before making tracks towards the capital.

As soon as we were back in the busy alleys of the city, I asked around to see where we would stop to drop everyone off, getting a number of suggestions from the group, though one of them was much more appealing. By the oddest chance, one of the ex-members had a flat near where we were rolling, and there didn’t seem to be any reason why we would use it for the time being. Parking near the place, we hurried into the building, keeping Freya and Craven as best concealed as we could. Roomy for a single soul, the single-bedroom residence was quite a tight fit for all of us, but at fifteen minute intervals, those who wanted to leave to return to their lives did so, sort of giving the rest of us more elbow room as time passed.

Personally, my priority was to contact Nereid and tell him where we stood, and I jumped on the phone as soon as I had checked it was clear of any sound that could have come from a tap. Not that it was likely that the police would have bothered to actually put a listener on the line of every former Front volunteer, but every ounce of caution is worth putting into such a fragile situation. After two rings, I got our dispatcher on the other end and gave him my identifying credentials before asking to be relayed to the dolphin. Seconds later, the cetacean picked up with an excited voice, worried sick about not having heard from us earlier. I explained what had happened as best I could, trying to ignore the grunts and two high-pitched pings the dolphin called when I got to the part about the police turning on us.

-That’s just the last degree of deceitfulness, called Nereid. So you’re certain that you want to get back here with Freya’s father being bars or in a government straightjacket?
-Straight from the lioness’ maw, I replied. Yeah, I’m not all that happy with it, but hey, we got what we came for, and even if the merchandise didn’t end up the hands we expected them to, I’m willing to call this mission successful.
-I suppose that’s one way to look at it. Getting you out is something else though. Do you still have the van?
-Parked close by, I said. Why?
-Okay, I’ll try to work something out at this end. Remember those guys we knew in Malta that had dealt with the Red Mafia, the guys you and Crave helped out in Mongolia?
-Oh, so we’ll be shipping off to Malta?
-It’s the best option, and I’m pretty sure that we can work it out. Call me back once in a while on your way down there so I can keep you up to date.
-Sure, will do, I stated. Thanks, Nereid!
-I couldn’t say thanks often enough to voice what the debts I have towards you all! Just get back here, ringtail.

I hung up and communicated what I’d agreed to with the Don, getting hugs and calls of joy from the four of us who would be hightailing it down through the heart of France to the southern coast. Craven asked in a really cute way if that meant we were stealing the van, but I retorted that the contract was good for a week and that the can was staying in the country, so legally, it just meant that we wouldn’t returned it to its point of origin rather then steal it. With a honking laugh from the zebra, Freya commandeered a handful of coins from owner of the apartment in exchange for a silver ring she’d been wearing and we made for the van. It would be a long drive, but with three other souls to rotate with, I was confident that it wouldn’t be too painful and experience for us to go though. By noon, we were in Burgundy, shooting down the road like a white bullet, in Craven’s confident care as the herbivore white-knuckled the wheel with a mad grin on his face. The fact that he didn’t have an actual driver’s license was reasonably compensated by a few years of computer games and he actually dealt pretty well with the van, even if we could feel the occasional hard correction.

After a stop at a roadside bar near Lyon, I had a final destination for us, as the Maltese Falcons of Malta had immediately dispatched a cigarette boat to Marseilles to ferry us to the island. The timing would be such that if we didn’t waste too much time, we would get to the city at the same time as the boat, so we wouldn’t have to worry about hiding anywhere. Content with the idea that we would be amongst friends at last, Boreale took over driving duty after a fuel-up and we were back on the southbound trails. By late afternoon, our wheels were touching the last miles of our journey down the Canebière, the ‘little Champs Élysés’ of the beautiful portside town. Turning the key to shut off the ignition of the van was almost a ceremonial action, as was tossing the keys inside and locking the doors as we left the vehicle in a library’s parking lot to walk the rest of the way.

A last call to Nereid gave us the exact dock where the boat was waiting for us, next to a neighbourhood called ‘Le Panier’, which tore a bunch of laughs from Craven as he called that it was perfectly fitting as this mission ‘allait finir en Enfer dans un panier à main’, or as he translated it for me later, ‘was going to end up in hell in a hand basket’. We spotted our ride easily, probably the smallest craft down the dock arm it was anchored to, running to get onboard as quickly as we could. The pilot, a white stallion wearing an open shirt and jeans greeted us and welcomed us onboard, asking for me to untie the ropes before getting on and pulling the gangway behind me, I crashed aside Freya, who had the mad giggles at this point, hugging me against her as she finally let out a long, happy roar to signal our departure.

-I suppose introductions are in order, said the stallion as we left the city’s proper to enter the open waters. I’m Paul Venetti, point of the Maltese Falcons.
-Rust Ringtail, I replied, point of the Ottawa Urchins, formerly of Tijuana. This is Craven Froids, our gunsmith, that’s Freya Appolinaire and the good catamount is Boreale Trilium.
-Good to meet you all! Sorry if it’s a bit crowded back there, but there’s a shipment of contraband wine I just picked up in the rear compartment. Heck, open a bottle if you’re thirsty, it’s our Don’s stock.
-He won’t mind, asked Craven as he unlocked the hatch and looked at the boxes, will he?
-He’s my brother, laughed the stallion, I doubt he’ll be on my case if a few of them are missing. So you’re a gunsmith, zebra?
-That’s the reason why these guys keep me around! You can call me zebby if you like.
-Zebby? Oh God, and you’ll be calling me horsy? What the heck... zebby it’ll be.

By the time we were in view of the island, I’d gotten very well acquainted with my fellow right-hand man. Freya had given up her shirt and pants to get some sun in her underwear, though it was nothing compared to the fact that while we hadn’t been paying attention, Craven had started making out with Boreale aside the wine crates and actually had managed to have sex without us being able to tell. After all, until I saw the zebra’s cock retreat into his pants, I hadn’t noticed that while the cougaress had sat down on his lap, they’d make room for a comfortable mount. I muttered his name with an exasperated air, but the grin and shrug that the man gave in return as he pointed to me and Freya was enough to tell me that the trip hadn’t affected his morality a single bit. The lioness shook her head with a chuckle, but winked with a ‘later’ look.

The Maltese Falcons had a few private spots at the docks put aside for them, from what Paul told me, though only one of them was free for us to park in. The others were already taken by another pair of almost identical crafts, probably used for the same purpose as what we had been witness to with the now slightly diminished stock of vino verde to be unloaded into the pickup that the stallion pointed to us. Forming a line, we passed the six cases until they reached my hands and I placed them solidly on the bed against the cab, securing them with a bungee cord. After we’d finished with the precious haul and Paul had reported the arrival of the boat to the dock master, we sat in the cab with the bottles as the stallion drove us out of the facility towards the urban section of the city. Before long, we’d hit the parking of an absolutely beautiful resort, obviously endowed with lavish amounts of cash, though we soon understood why.

-Welcome to our front, called Paul as we got out of the truck. If we each grab a case, we can get this thing done in one trip, what do you say?
-We’ll take one for the team, declared Freya as she propped her own container of bottles.
-So, I started as we walked through the kitchens of the place, you’ve been here long?
-Couple of years, nodded the stallion. Heck, we practically work hand in hand with the government here. Most of the police force are either close friends of ours, or in some cases, married partners. We have it good here, I’ll tell you that. Here, just come with me in the elevator here.
-Going up, asked Craven as he looked at the controls, or what?
-Down, laughed the equine as he put a maintenance key into the lock aside the buttons and turned the lock to the proper position for us to start into the ground. You see, we had a storage facility dug under the building pretty early to be able to hide our loot. There’s everything from a refrigerated room to good lighting.
-Oh holy crap, called Boreale as the lights turned on in the cave-like expanse, stacked high with crates of absolutely everything.
-Food’s over here, directed Paul as we followed his lead and put the cases down. You can see weapons right there, electronics, other valuables, and the fridge’s there. Want a beer?
-Oh, the wine was good, I waved.
-Ah, I didn’t drink a drop, laughed the stallion as he opened the locked door and reached inside to get a longneck. So, what the heck happened to you to get stuck over there in France? I don’t know anyone who comes back from there on a trip and has anything but good things to say.

Craven gave a watered-down account of our adventure as his interlocutor drained three bottles of draft, but it was clear that we had his sympathy. Putting away his empties, he signed for us to come along with him as we returned to the elevator, leaving the relatively cool room to go back in the noticeably hotter resort, granted it was better then the outside’s chillier temperature. Winter was nothing like back home, but putting the question to Paul, he replied that it had been one pretty cold year, though the temperatures he quoted in support of the declaration we almost took in derision. Still behind our guide, we entered the place’s quiet lounge, where another stallion in a fine medieval outfit was already sitting with a giant tigress built like a brick wall, both of them almost doing a double take when they saw Freya as if they thought it was someone else.

-Hi Paul, called the stallion. So those are the crazy Canucks that you picked up?
-All of them; Rust, Boreale, Craven and Freya, pointed the stallion.
-For a moment, I thought it was Lamia, laughed the tigress. Detective Rebeka Svensekova, glad to meet you. Don’t bother with the rank, though. I’m just another stripped kitten here.
-And I’m Don Aquarius, said the gothic-clothed stallion, but call me Aqua, please. Actually, there comes the other lioness!
-I thought I heard new voices, said the younger woman as she came with drinks for herself and her two friends. I’m Lamia Rapone! I didn’t expect to have another golden sister walk in today, but it’s good to have a hunting partner!
-Always is, laughed Freya as she gave Lamia a cuddle. Rebeka, do you figure we’re strong enough to take down the pack of stripes there for dinner?
-Do you have a room with a door that locks, Craven asked Aqua, or am I done for?
-Lamia has the master keys, smiled the horse, you’re done for. Don’t worry, we’ve survived nights with her and Rebeka hasn’t gnawed on my brother Marcello either.

-Another question, I said to Aqua with a grin, is the whole black Goth thing part of the Clan’s tradition, or are we missing some cultural pointers here?
-Well, when in Rome, do like the barbarians do, replied the stallion. Hey, we’ve got nothing but time here, so if you want to go shopping, there’s a nice store just a few block from here.
-You’re going to bring them to Sapphire’s? Aqua, laughed Lamia, you’re going to make the weasel pop!
-Bah, it’s pretty much one of the last places open on the island, other then Bella’s. Speaking of which, considering that we haven’t ordered anything here yet other then these paltry drinks, how about we go and chew the rag over there?
-Something tell me that this is going to be fun, honked Craven. You know, I used to dress like the bunch of you back in university, but I made my own stuff mostly…
-You can sew? All right, snickered Rebeka, then maybe I could talk to you about some ideas I’ve had for my own trench to match with these guys…

Slamming the mixers that the bar had provided, we migrated in a tight bunch out of the hotel and into the streets, probably talking and joking loudly enough as to generate more decibels then anything else we ran into. After all, as strange as the circumstances of our meeting with these people was, heck, we got along great. As Aqua pointed out, it was pretty rare that anyone from the States showed up on the island, save for a name that sounded bells in my head.

-You know Don Ulrich, asked the stallion as we walked, don’t you? Your eyes sort of dilated when I mentioned him.
-Black on orange is a pretty good contrast, I giggled as I nodded to him. Yes, actually he sort of shook thing sup for the better back when we were in Mexico. Nice cat and he’s doing quite well for himself in Miami, from what I’ve heard.
-Capital wise, we’re pretty much dead even. Of course, the old guys in Italy still have way more cash, but man! They’ve been there since the dawn of time.
-Blah blah blah, prodded Freya as we arrived at the basement-level shop. You two sound like old speckled hens! Wow, this place is neat!
-Greetings, greetings, called the weasel who escaped from behind the cash register to meet us at the doors. Quite a few new faces, but some of local renown as well today!
-‘Evening, Sapphire, said Lamia. How’s afterlife treating you?
-Wonderfully well, thank you. Just showing your friends around the curios of Malta, or may I be of service?
-You have four creatures here which need to rediscover the old ways, I said as I started looking at some of the studded leather coats. You take AmEx?
-Certainly do, squeaked the weasel. If I may, gentle ringtail, I can offer something that could bring out your natural traits a bit more…

We dispersed through the shop, myself being led around by its proprietor as he tried a few looks on me, taking them away and putting them on my back faster then I could manage to keep up with. Still, I agreed with his final choice, which was a long trench coat matching inspector Javert’s style (Author’s note: Read Victor Hugo’s ‘Les Miserables’ for details…) over a black dress shirt and pants with a top hat to match. Taking a step back and giving a long squeak with a giddy expression, Sapphire ran over to his counter and pulled out an ornate keris from his display, slipped it in its sheath and tucked it at my belt. Hopping back again with another call, he turned me to present me to the rest of the group, getting a long whistle and playful growl from Lamia.

-Well just maybe Jack the Ripper was a lemur, I said as I looked in the mirror. You wouldn’t have a cane too, by any chance, good weasel?
-A few to choose from, nodded the creature as he helped me pick one out. Oh now, this is just perfect! I don’t recommend walking around Whitechapel at night anytime soon, though.
-Only if people are imaginative enough as to believe that the famed figure I portray could have lived comfortably over a hundred and twenty-five years after his murders, I retorted. It’s perfect!
-Anything else, offered the mustelline as he gave a general wave to the rest of the store, or will that be it?
-I think I’ll take another pair of these pants and three of those tees, plus two girl’s size four, if you have any in stock.
-Ah, I always do, he replied, diving into his display and fetching the clothes. Honestly, I can’t say I’ve been this busy in a long time! You good people are also done?
-I’d think so, said Craven as I saw him holding a huge pile of merchandise.

I let everyone put their stuff on the counter before I threw mine on, but while they were going through their pockets to get wallets out, I slipped my credit card to the weasel with a wink, getting a visual cue from him as understanding my meaning perfectly. Aqua was the first to have his plastic out, but a waved of the head from Sapphire told him I’d footed the bill already, and the stallion laughed that it would pay for the gas and the wine we’d tanked. We hung around for conversation for a while as we rotated in and out of the changing rooms to get into our costumes, all pretty lavish save for Rebeka, who had only found a hoodie that could fit her stature, though the tribal white-on-black pattern of thorny roses was enough to make her just as impressive to look at as us. With the sun safely tucked away beyond the horizon, we walked out of the place with sincere thanks to the weasel and headed out following the locals’ lead, deeper into the quiet streets they seemed to be extremely familiar with.

I’d never been to a Goth club. Damn, I’d only been to maybe a handful in my life, seeing as how for starters, I’d been broke through my teens and as college had entered my life, for indeed, I had a dusty, neglected degree in law, I just hadn’t gotten enough slack to visit any. At this point I was following the lead of the rest of the troupe, hoping that I wouldn’t be a bump on a log to them. I was warned by Lamia that it was very likely that we would be involved in some theatricals during our stay, and as we entered the inconspicuous establishment, properly decorated to fit the theme it obeyed with all sorts of sigils painted on the walls and spooky archetypal pieces, I was the first to fall victim to drama. From aside me came a pair of crows, though the male was old enough to be his companion’s father, pretending to protect her from me as I side stepped them.

-Please sir, spare my niece, cawed the crow. We have done nothing to deserve your bloody crime!
-My victims were chosen for me long ago, hence I was but the instrument of destiny, I called back as I drew my blade. Stand aside and let me fulfil what is meant to be.
-No sir, I will not! Stay your hand and perhaps all here tonight might bask in your presence without violence, Ripper.
-I shall do so then, I said as I put the keris back in its pocket. I will resist fate’s calling tonight.
-Lamia, you keep bringing finer actors here all the time, said the crow as he turned the lioness. This is my niece, Lee, but she calls herself Nocturna.
-Good to meet you, said the girl as she shook her hand. Uncle Darkness here told me a lot about your and Aqua, but which one of you is that?
-Right here, waved the stallion, that’s my brother Paul. Could be bother you for a table to slouch on?
-Pick any you want, invited Darkness. I’ll see what sort of fantastic mood our cook’s in tonight.
-That’s the nice guy who runs this place, explained Rebeka. No one gets by him without a few laughs.
-Fair enough, I think I managed something decent.
-Heck, you were scaring me, laughed the tigress. For a second, I thought I’d be reverting back to my day job!
-Not in polite company, I said with a shrug. It’s a professional affiliation, nothing personal I do on my free time.
-Jeeze you’re nuts, shot Craven as two plates of finger food landed on our table. Wow, look that those nachos! Black corn with scarlet red sauce, how cute!
-We try to be creative, said the attendant before taking our other orders.
-So I was thinking like this, started Lamia, just a wild idea...
-Oh god, keep that between you and your boyfriend, said Paul before getting a playful slap from the lioness.
-As I was saying before the interruption, she continued with a funny sneer at the stallion, aren’t there any friends of ours in France? I’d think that considering that Italy and here is pretty busy with Family activity, there would be something up north too.
-As far as I know, the Red Mafia takes care of Wittenberg, Germany, now, because the clan that was there sort of fell apart at the seams after some really bad accounting, if you understand what I mean, said Aqua. It’s not as obvious as it looks to keep an organization like ours in the black. As for Paris, there was one, but I don’t know what happened. I didn’t hear anything through our contacts about them, but I don’t think that they would have suffered the same fate. They were pretty well set up near the opera house, but that’s all I know.
-I might be able to see if something legal happened to them, grinned Rebeka as she took her cell and walked off to place a call.
-I can’t even imagine how nice that cat can be, muttered Aqua.
-Nicer then I’ll let you find out, said another voice that walked up to the table, another white stallion.
-Marcello, called the Don as he got up and hugged the arrival, there you are! I didn’t see you at the resort, so I thought you might be out or something.
-I was visiting a furniture company in town to buy a few new beds, but then I passed by Sapphire’s and he told me you’d been in, so I put ‘Bella’ with ‘Tower’ and came here to find you. Wow, big crowd tonight!

We gave Marcello the best introduction possible into the dealings of the Urchin clan, getting enough cracks and jokes back from him to form the first few chapters of a comedy series. If anything, he had a light spirit and just as fine clothing as Aqua, though he went back forwards a few centuries, going more for a Renaissance valet look then his brother. As Paul finally took him and pretended to strangle him for having said a really salty pun about him and Rebeka, the tigress showed back up and quickly slapped a cuff on him.

-You’re under arrest for assault, stranger, said the cat.
-Damn, foiled, laughed the horse as she undid the restraint. Got anything good?
-Actually first I have to ask you a question, stated the tigress. Where did you little incident start in Paris? Which ‘hood?
-The 20th, I replied. Why?
-And the guy you dealt with was named Jodoin?
-Yes! So he’s behind it?
-You see, there was an unofficial ‘do not touch’ painted on the... how do you say this, asked the woman as she showed a note in her logbook to the zebra, eh Craven?
-Renards de Paris, replied the zebby, the Paris Foxes.
-Yes, those guys, your guys. Everyone was okay with it, but one day when they were holding a banquet in a restaurant in the 20th, bang! He comes down on them hard with intervention teams and arrests the bunch of them. The mayor’s in a bad spot, because on one hand those guys are in jail, but then again it’s a bit hard for anyone in an elected position to come out and publicly defend accused criminals with such a reputation. Right now, they’ve all been moved into a detention facility outside the city.
-And word on my father, asked Freya, just casually?
-Certainly, smiled the tigress, they’re also held there. It looks to me as if you could put your expertise into practice for two good causes in one here.
-Am I hearing a policewoman plotting a jailbreak, giggled Aqua, or am I just imagining things?
-Considering my relations with you guys, smiled Rebeka as she hugged Marcello into her side, I don’t think that my position matters as much as you think.
-Agreed, seconded her stallion in a voice muffled by her chest. Don’t feel obligated to let me go, Titania.
-I don’t, but my arm’s a bit tired from today’s workouts, she said as she released him.

I didn’t want to go into the details of raiding the detention centre in public, even if the others seemed to be fine with it. Aqua openly called me paranoid, but I didn’t give in so quickly, and he conceded that maybe it was better to keep it on the low down just in case. After all, maybe the equine had put aside the fact that Freya and I were possibly still targets for monsieur Jodoin. We put aside those facts for the rest of the evening, instead going into the Goth culture and basically spent hours telling each other ghost stories. From my time in Mexico, I had a few good local superstitions and backwater town accounts, but our hats dropped to Craven and Lamia, who managed to actually come up with such creepy accounts that I noticed Rebeka take Marcello’s paw. The funniest thing was that with our little ‘Are you scared?’ competition between storytellers, we attracted a few people who competed to sit at the tables aside us to eavesdrop on the tales, and Midnight and Nocturna pulled up chairs at our table with a round of high quality spirits to pay for the show.

-I never actually thought about that concept, admitted the crow after we took a breather. You’re quite the imaginative soul, Lamia. Could I hoax you into maybe doing a few little lectures here?
-Well, between the resort and my job at the station’s ‘body shop’, alias morgue, I don’t see how I could make it unless you’re willing to have me on Sundays.
-Oh, that would be perfect! After all, you must have quite a repertoire, if you’ve already managed to have enough in your bag to shoot off goose bumps on people’s backs for the last four hours!
-It’s been that long? In that case, started the zebra, let me tell you about a night I lived through, about three years ago...

We continued for another hour before giving up the table for the dance floor, but two hours on the marble floor raving to the trance beats that played seemed like an aerobics marathon and wishing a good night to the black birds, we left the club with hardly enough energy to stay upright. With such remarkable stamina, Aqua called us a hide back to the resort and we split up into our respective parties. I tried to pick up Freya, but I have to admit that ours builds were about the same, and I didn’t have the torque to get her off her paws so I simply bowled her over on the bed instead in a hurricane of laughter and we sprinkled our clothes all over the room. Within the minute, I was lying on the bed with her slouched on my side, caressing her breasts slowly as she held my tail with just enough slack so I could stress it to bat her muzzle with it to tease her until she pretended to nibble on it. I could tell that she wasn’t actually in the mood for sex, just gentle play, and I honestly ached way too much all over to really have any reason to insist until we pulled over the covers and passed out cold as the dead.

I’d found the phone next to the bed to have a blinking monitor light, which I interpreted to be a signal that it would be recommendable for someone to pick it up. Seeing how Freya had woken up already and darted tot he washroom to answer nature’s call, I did the deed and took the receiver, listening in to hear an automated dial tone that led to a pre-recorded voice that saying that there was a message for us in the vocal mail. Pressing tone as the instructions recommended, I hear Aqua’s soft tone inviting us for breakfast around nine. Hanging up and glancing at the clock, I saw there was hardly ten minutes left before the appointment, so I decided to grab my courage and walk in on the lioness to start my shower, getting a few sharp reprimands from her until she just exploded in laughter and yelled ‘who the heck am I kidding!’ before jumping in with me.

The Don had already ordered a small buffet for us by the time we walked into the lounge, but we weren’t the last to arrive, with poor old Craven looking like he’d been through a tornado and Boreale looking no better wobbling in.

-Your elevator wobbles a lot when you move around, the zebra commented as he sat down. You might want to have a look at the suspension or something.
-Right, but seeing under what sorts of conditions it was operating, I don’t know if it’s covered by the warranty, replied Aqua. Help yourselves, there’s a bit of everything here for everyone.
-Seems to be, approved Boreale as she took a handful of sausages with her fork. So, what did everyone dream about?
-My daughter Ring, I said with a half-grin, and not in that way, Craven.
-I didn’t say anything, shot the zebra. Aqua? What do stallions dream about other then running free through the plains and the hills?
-It’s been a while since I’ve had that one, but I sort of envisioned some sort of a conclusion to this.
-Interesting, said a new arrival, this time a brown bat. Am I welcome to sit in, good Don?
-Well of course you are, Wings! Wings, this is Boreale, Craven, Freya and Rust, from Ottawa.
-Oh, how interesting! Sorry if my hands smell a bit funny, I had to scrub hard after this morning’s early shift.
-You deal with contaminating substances?
-Quite the opposite, I try not to contaminate then. I’m the chief coroner here in down, and we had something washing up in the docks which turned out to be a chap who decided to end it all with an anchor around his neck. Why people decide on such work-consuming ways to go if beyond me, but I suppose it’s their choice.
-Yum, I laughed as I took a bite into a celery stick, that got my stomach growling!
-Oh come now, I’m certain that seeing your affiliation, this wouldn’t have been the first cadaver you’d stood over, but I digress.
-Going back a few steps, started Craven, you said you’d put some thought into what we could do to tidy up the situation, Aqua?
-Yes, I did. You see, seeing as how since in the last few years our relations with the authorities have been more then positive, and I mean not only here but also in Miami with Don Ulrich and his bunch getting reputations for taking the role of local vigilantes and everything, I think that this latest series of incidents in Paris stem from the fact that the people there got it into their heads that we’re no longer the powerful organization that we actually are, that we’ve given up our crowns to them.
-So you’re saying that you want to mark a precedent here, I asked, to remind them in a very direct manner?
-In short, I think that it would be a good idea for Constable Jodoin to become something of an example, nodded the Don. After all, I don’t think that his insubordinate habits towards his fellow higher-placed officers will have brought him that much sympathy. With that taken care of, we could see what could be done to release everyone he put behind bars, even if it’s done in a most discrete fashion.
-I don’t trust anyone in his ranks to deal with us honestly anymore, I stated. If he was ready to turn around and play behind our backs, I don’t think that we can put it beyond anyone else.
-Wait a second though, cut Craven. His second seemed a lot more sincere then him when we talked. Do you have a telephone here that can’t be traced?
-None of them in the building can, giggled Marcello. We installed a scrambling switchboard that scatters the calls through more crap then any known system can hope to in years of code breaking.
-Then after this I’ll actually call him directly.
-That’s bold, called Rebeka.
-Bold and even cocky, said the zebra, but a chance to put a last nail in the coffin of our trust towards his department that we’ll be sure we have to drive or not.

(Switch to Craven)

I didn’t give the rest of the group too much time to protest my idea as the last few dishes on the table were emptied of their contents by Rebeka, the last of whom seemed to have an incredible appetite to satisfy when it came to protein. I supposed that it was her bodybuilding that took up a lot of her demand for it, but that put aside, the urge to see what the heck we could to fix our fences in France was more a concern to me then anything. Marcello had directed me to his office, and I didn’t take too long to whip my tail on his chair and dial the number to get a hold of the Commandant. As I could expect, the donkey didn’t wait longer then the second ring to pick up, answering with a tone that seemed to indicate he had in head in his game.

-Bonjour, ici Commandant Julien Champagne. Who is this?
-This is Craven Froids, I replied. I believe that we had a misunderstanding last time we talked regarding our negotiations. I thought we were dealing in good faith, but it seems that I misread your intentions.
-No! Not our intentions, the Constable’s! Listen, Craven, I didn’t know, none of the people here did! We didn’t know he had you followed by one of his goddamned street kids, but when the orders came in to crack down on the Front, we were only following orders, nothing else. We didn’t want to do this!
-So this is all his fault? You’re making me gag by trying to push that down my throat!
-It’s the honest truth! Where are you?
-Good one, I called. First I want proof that this is true, because I have to tell you, he made some very powerful enemies here, and his skin isn’t worth too much at the current hour.
-You’re going to kill him, said Julien, is that it?
-That’s what the decision has come to, with members of our organization in place for the execution. If you interfere...
-I certainly won’t! Heck everyone here would be glad to serve his ass up for you when you want it!
-Then this is the way this is going to happen, I stated. We take out Jodoin, and you release the members of the Front and the members of the Renards, and we’re good.
-Damn, that won’t be easy, groaned the ass. I suppose if the mayor gives us the order, we could do it, but I’m not sure that it’s a sure bet.
-First things first then, I cut. Jodoin goes underground, then we meet the mayor and negotiate.
-Be my guest, stated the Commandant. I can give you his weekly routine itinerary, if that’ll help.
-It sure will. Fire away!
-Here goes, he said as he listed me half a dozen places and times. Don’t be long, because we can’t stand this bastard anymore...

I hung up and returned to the restaurant, passing the list to Rust, who carefully look at the information and took a moment to process it. The plan he talked through with the group, minus Marcello, Rebeka, Wings and Lamia, was simple and ruthless. Paul would be accompanying Rust, Freya and me back to Paris while Boreale caught a flight back to Ottawa, out of harm’s way and with the emeralds in her possession. We’d bring sniping equipment and ambush the degu from above, to so speak, at a cafe his had the habit of taking a drink at after work, with two able guns at the ready and a third man, Paul, in position to take him out at close range if we missed our shots, which I didn’t think would be the case, but contingencies were safe to have in our back pockets, seeing as it wasn’t much extra trouble to set up.

-I’ve only been to Paris a few times, said the stallion, and it was on business, so I didn’t get to see much of it. Seeing as how my agenda is pretty open after this, I wouldn’t mind getting a better look about the place.
-I’m afraid chances are that we’ll be going back to Ottawa once our work is taken care of, corrected Rust. Nothing personal, but I think that we’ve had too much action for the time being.
-I understand you, laughed Paul, but I’m a big grown horse, I can take care of myself. So, I think we can book flights and everything here, if you’re all ready to go.
-Flights? I don’t know if that’s a good idea for the time being, I said with a start. Freya and me might be too famous for our own good.
-Oh, that was just a joke, exclaimed Aqua, we have friends here who run charter flights to the mainland. They’ll get you to a private strip close to the city and there’ll be a car for you to drive when you get there.
-It’s nice when Families get along like this, smiled Rust as he shook the stallion’s hand.
-Hey, we’re men of honour first and foremost. Let’s get this underway!

Marcello didn’t miss a beat, calling the airport to see when the next flight to Canada would be, getting a time in early afternoon for the catamount. For our charter though, the time was not a question, as the moment Aqua gave his flying buddies a whack, they were fuelled up and ready to get us up and away. Giving Boreale a long hug, I picked up the slack and walked outside with Paul and the rest of our elite gang, taking the stallion’s car to one of their caches at a front they’d set up for the purpose of storing their more expensive and specialized wares under the guise of a newspaper shop. I gave a giggle as I saw the two Unique Alpine TPG-1s that the stallion took out from a chest in the back room while I stood in the doorway to give him some privacy and slid them into carriers. As he asked why I’d found funny, I replied that it was because I had one back in Ottawa as well that I used to compare with my own guns and that it would be no different for me to use one of them then when I spent an evening at the virtual range where I tested out my stuff.

Not only did the pilots seem to know Paul pretty well from previous uses of the services of the private company, but also they must have like him, as there was a box of truffles and a bottle of Bourbon waiting in the cab for us. Not wanting to have our judgement impaired, we didn’t touch the drink, though little mercy was shown to the chocolates, getting ravaged during takeoff. The trip didn’t take too long, as the sweet Dassault Falcon cut through the air at break-neck pace, the dull drone of the engines staying constant while the countryside replaced the seascape. I have to admit the private flight was a lot better then the crowded Airbus 340 that had brought us over from home, and I didn’t mind spreading out my hooves over two seats while I talked with Paul, leaving Rust and Freya to their own fun behind us. As I was getting taken under by the horse’s deep, calm voice and the engine’s melodious rumble, I noticed we were losing altitude and a warning came from our driver to get ready to land, sort of cutting the pleasure short.

No sooner had we landed and the doors opened did we see a sedan waiting aside the airstrip, and another message came over the intercom to tell us that a communication had been received in flight for us to inform us that the car was ours, thanks to a local contractor. We didn’t put up a fuss, running over to put our long guns in the trunk and jump inside. As soon as we situated were our present location was, we rolled hard, intent on finishing our work that day and not wait another twenty-four to get another shot at Jodoin. As I commented to Rust, it would just have that much more punch if we followed through our death sentence the same day we’d announced it. It was a weird feeling to be back in the same streets we’d run off out with our tails between our legs just a day ago, like ghosts coming back for unfinished business. Coldly, that was pretty much what we were all about that that point, and we made a beeline for the cafe where our mark was going to be found in less then half an hour.

We scoped out the place visually, trying to see where we could set up to be able to have a decent, well-covered shot at the target, finding two locations, an alley in diagonal from the place, deep and wide enough for one of us to be while the other took the stairwell of a public parking, sixty degrees away. I selected the more hazardous alleyway, which at maybe a hundred feet, wasn’t too hard a shot, but still pretty tricky if we were going to remain unseen. Freya stalked out the parking with Rust, leaving Paul free to walk into the restaurant for a nice espresso to push on the truffles. I took out the rifle at the first chance I had, putting it down along the wall away from the sense of the pedestrian traffic and made myself a bit of an improvised bunker with garbage bags to give myself some privacy, twenty feet into the alley, which left me most of the field of view on the cafe clear. I didn’t expect to be the first gun, but I kept my eye on Paul, who was also responsible for giving us our signal to fire, as we didn’t have any radios to call it in.

Sure thing, I saw the degu come in on the other side of the street and sit down at a table, calling over a server to get his snack. I got down in a crouch with the rifle concealed between two garbage bags, looking at him through my scope while still maintaining a good awareness of my surroundings. I wouldn’t have much time to worry about getting caught, for the moment that the server got out of the way and we had a pretty clear shot, Paul put down the newspaper he’d been going through, our ‘ready-aim-fire’ signal. I cracked off a pair of Winchester rounds at a one-second interval, though the low-intensity gunshot was quickly offset by the scream at the cafe as a total of four rounds cut through the degu. My hits both landed into the creature’s upper thorax, while Rust’s more practiced eyes saw his hit his head and neck. At any rate, he was toast, and I quickly pocketed the clip before putting the warm gun back into it’s carrier and casually walked back into the street, soon joined by Paul, who had put down bills for his cup on the table and deserted the place.

-Nice shots, said the stallion as we walked together towards the car.
-Bah, I usually have Rust or Nereid try out most of my pieces to get a more decisive opinion. That’s just casual experience you saw there.
-I’ll take that any day, he grinned as we waited aside our ride to give Freya and Rust a chance to catch up with us.
-Done and done, hummed the lemur as we stashed our weapons. I don’t think that we should stick around here too long...

We drove out of the area in time to miss the incoming traffic to the scene, stopping in the parking of a fast-food joint for Paul to pick up coffees for all of us and take the edge off. The radio was already alight with the news of the assassination, listing a long list of enemies that the Constable had made over the years, long enough that we were probably not the most obvious candidates for having taken his life, to our advantage. We let the dust settle a lot more after that, checking into a hotel that Paul had singled out in advance as being his roof during his tourist foray into Paris. From there, we bounced a call through Malta for me to get Julien on the horn again. Like before, he answered promptly, though there was a spark of joy in his voice that I couldn’t attribute to anything other then actual joy in the fact that his superior had met his end.

-I see that you didn’t screw around, said the donkey. Damn, you guys sure know how to put on a good show!
-Glad you liked the performance, I chuckled. So, about those prisoners, what can we talk about?
-Well, I put in a friendly word to the mayor already regarding them, just putting a few theoretical scenarios to him...
-So you’re in contact with him?
-He was one of my sister’s boyfriends back in the days, laughed Julien, we’re pretty well acquainted. I’ve gotten him drunk more time then his handlers will admit to any reporter.
-And his take on the scenarios?
-As long as the Clan minds it’s own business and sort of supports the Front in its efforts, he’s fine with letting them go with an ordinance to keep the peace, even if it stirs up a bit of trouble. He already has a spin on what he’ll unleash on the media to cover for it, clever politician he is. As for the Front, we really didn’t have anything as important as the Renards to accuse them of, other then Henri’s excesses.
-As for him, I suggest that we go along with the original plan. It’s for the better.
-I agree, but are you sure that it can still be done?
-The arrangements for the transfer of power were done before the raid, I confirmed. I have no doubts whatsoever that as soon as you let them go, the Front will reform as it was structured out to be. There’ll probably be fewer adherents, but if the Renards back them, that’ll be offset generously.
-Seeing as how a lack of trust was what got us into this in the first place, I’ll take your word for all that, seconded Julien. I’ll get things working at my end for their release. Is there a number that I can reach you at?
-How long do you think that this will take you?
-Oh, seeing as with the Constable’s death everyone will be too busy, I think that I’ll be able to plot with the mayor to get this done overnight. Also, I’ll burn off anything on Athena and you I find.
-All right, but we need to be there when they’re released, I insisted. We want to get into contact with the Renards and the Front prisoners, just to make sure where everything stands. I’ll call you back tomorrow morning around ten to for an update.
-Fine with me! Talk to you then, Craven.

I sort of missed having Boreale with me as we turned to the television set in the room for entertainment for the evening. Instead, Paul helped himself onto the bed aside me and asked for my advice on where he should head for his trip when we’d cleared up our work. Thanking him for the distraction, I pointed out places that I knew friends of mine had looted, but soon enough, to our roommate’s blissful ignorance, the stallion was holding the travel guide as to cover his crotch while I had my hand down his pants giggling his balls. Either the testosterone in the air was too nauseating for the pair to stand or they felt like getting romantic themselves, as the lemur and lioness headed out to the hotel bar shortly thereafter. As soon as the door had closed, Paul looked at me with a grin and I replied with a short honk before pulling down his fly and in one continuous movement, pulled his shorts and pants right off his legs, leaving his shivering, lonely cock and balls waiting for something to happen.

Not wanting to give any reason for my title of ‘striped slut’ to fade away, I stripped down to my stripes and jumped on him, sucking on his balls. I liked other equines, cervidae and their likes just because the equipment I had to deal with looked strangely familiar, and I had a lot of practice to know exactly what to do when to make sure that what I put out was worth my partner’s while. I didn’t ask where he’d gotten his own training from, but Paul turned me as soon as I’d started getting stiff enough and started his own laborious undertaking on my member, certainly deserving an eight on ten in my books. After all, the fact that he still had enough of a gag reflex to be unable to push deep was worth taking off a few points.

On my part, heck, I pretty much slid the sucker right into my muzzle, running along his rod without the least trace of such up until I heard him hinny high, the normal warning for ‘watch out, warm one coming up’! I didn’t budge, taking his seed down and giving his balls a fling of my fingers for him to tighten up his grip on me, as I’d felt ready myself for a few seconds and I just needed a last killing blow to initiate the beginning of my end, so to speak.

Paul lost another mark at that point, dropping my cock as I started blowing, turning it into the classic comic out-of-control fire hose, though the damage resumed itself to his body, with wads of zebra spoo raining down on him. I couldn’t help but laugh at him as he got up to clean off, chasing him right into the washroom where ended up taking a shower with him, getting a lot more groping in whenever I saw the opportunity to slip a hand on something sensitive, even nibbling at his nipples a few times to his sudden delight.

By the time that our roomies popped back in, we were sleeping in bed, actually huddled together in a pretty conspicuous illustration of homosexuality, which I suppose must have put a few questions in Freya’s head that the lemur must have been happy to answer for her. Hey, if she were going to live with us, my openness would hardly remain a secret for long...

We woke up very late, around nine something, not that any of us cared. The last days had just been too much of everything, too fast, and our mortal shells had finally given up on us, though good, healing sleep like that was just soothing to the soul as well. By the time that we got a few croissants that Paul insisted he had to try in Paris to see if they were better then anywhere else, I had to call Julien back for the update, doing so right on cue. I didn’t even wait a full ring before he came on, even happier then yesterday.

-Craven! How’s the zebra this morning! Well rested?
-You have no idea, I sighed. And yourself?
-Probably the best damn night I’ve had in a long time, I’ll tell you. Listen, everyone at the detention centre is ready to go, a full busload.
-Okay, can you have then head to the Front’s old place? We’ll meet them there.
-Sure thing, and thanks, Craven.
-Same back at you!

Our car seemed to fly by the time we reached our first destination in Paris, but we still managed to just get there in time to park aside the correctional facility’s transportation vehicle, which was unloading its passengers. The members of the Front headed inside, including Henri, of which we only caught a glimpse in the flood of bodies funnelling into the building. To our delight, we saw a number of Front volunteers who had escaped the police coming in from the street as well, hence the word had been put out already and the group’s loyal members had promptly answered the call. What interested us more was the dozen souls who didn’t enter the building, instead hanging outside as if they wondered why they had been brought there. Understand that they were most probably the members of the captured Family, we walked up to see them, trying not to seem hostile in any way. Four of the creatures were grouped in a defensive stance around a black lemur male, just shy of being as tall as me but much more imposing then Rust could ever be. He was the first to shift his attention towards us, actually actively turning one of his bodyguards to be facing us, probably one of the best indications as to the actual quality of this clan or lack thereof.

-Hello, Don, Rust called out to him as we got closer. I’m Rust Ringtail, point of the Ottawa Urchins, and this is Paul, point of the Falcons of Malta.
-Don Louis Maleville, said the lemur, squeezing between his people to come shake our hands. I don’t quite understand what machinations took place to get us out of prison, but I’m certainly not going to complain.
-We assassinated the Constable that was responsible for your arrest, I coldly declared. Craven Froids, at your service.
-Really now! Interesting, laughed the Don. You go for a few weeks behind bars, and the situation shifts enough for you to be lost when you get out!
-Also, there’s an arrangement to be discussed regarding your status in the city, added Rust. You see, the mayor himself got into this deal, and insisted that you help these good people of the Front keep the streets safe in addition to your previous activities, which you must be more careful about. In short, you have a conditional immunity from now on that can’t be revoked unless he gives the word, which I don’t think he would if all goes well.
-Well, with all that happened, it’ll take us a bit of time to get back on our paws, sighed Louis. Though I don’t think our accounts were discovered, to get back into action with all our contractors and people in position so we can participate in any action will take another few days. After that though, we could certainly start making more aggressive moves against the people responsible for the problems in the streets.
-So you’re aware who those are, I asked, or do you need to gather more information?
-Oh, it’s not a secret who’s behind it, waved the lemur. Anyone who puts their ear tufts to the ground for a second gets enough about them. They’re loud, foolish and not the best out there, hence why they grouped in little ghettos to actually find strength in numbers that they could never hope to have individually. No, I don’t think that it would be a problem. Now, I suppose that we’ll find a ride back to our place to get things in place.
-You don’t need to talk to the Front’s directors?
-We’ll support them indirectly, just so we have more options when it comes to actions, grinned Louis. I know that they don’t absolutely need to know everything that we do which brings them benefits, and I doubt that they’d understand some of them in their comfortable, cozy, idealist paradigm. You’re welcome to come with us and see where we operate from, if you wish.

Half an hour later, the pair of limousines that the Don had called for us, driven by loyal friends of his clan, pulled aside a ten-story office tower, which he commented was their operating front as a stock broker corporation, allowing for vast amounts of money to appear and disappear at will, seeing as how they hadn’t been audited in nearly two decades. It took two elevators cabs to get everyone to the top floor where Louis had his office, though as could be expected, the police had come to visit and some of the rooms were a downright mess as the gendarmes had looted them for evidence. To be honest, I couldn’t say that I was very impressed by the interior, which looked too much like an actual broker’s office rather then anywhere that I’d like to live. I guess it was their choice, but as compared to a lot of the homesteads I’d been to, this didn’t make the cut when it came to housewarming. Digressing, it was functional, and didn’t take too much effort to set right.

-Really, those bastards have no respect for people’s property, bitched the lemur as he sat down in the leather that he used as an office chair. Bah, this’ll blow over.
-Nice place to call home, I commented. Hey, there’s the opera right there!
-Absolutely, nodded Louis. I always joke that here’s our home, and there’s our living room. We have a private box there for us and ours friends, a favour that one of the tenors who regularly performs there gave us after two miraculous stock performances in his portfolio.
-Purely coincidental, I’m sure.
-Totally, random, he smiled with a wink. I have to admit it’s an outstanding coincidence that I’d be seeing a genetic relative here today though. Tell me more about the Urchins, Rust! I’m curious...
-Curiosity is such a lemur thing, chuckled the point.

We stayed in Louis’ office for the better part of the morning, with his people popping in to give him updates on the reestablishment of their network, which for the most part had just either gone into hiding or waited patiently for news of their principal employers. Not to my surprise, Rust called Nereid on the Don’s phone, passing the device to the black lemur for the two to talk, sort of marking a new bridge between our clans. With the two babbling about platitudes that frankly, none of us could stomach to listen to for long, the rest of us migrated into a salon next door. Gazing out over the city, I began a general post-mortem of the mission after the latest changes we’d brought about.

-Figure it was for the better, I asked Rust, or did we just stir up an old soup?
-Well, good men are free again, and there’s no price to be put on that I suppose, shrugged the ringtail. Having new friends here isn’t directly anything that affects us as far as I can see things, but probably for Paul and his gang, it’s better.
-It gives us a few ports of passage we can’t turn our back on, said the stallion. Plus heck, look at all that life out there! It’s a nice change from the ocean.
-I’ve seen enough of it for a lifetime, purred Freya as she gave Rust a hug. Is Canada really as cold as we see it on television?
-The nights are warm, whispered the lemur as he quickly grabbed her butt, but that’s got nothing to do with the weather...