FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Chapter XXXII - Chase

The snarling engine was nothing next to the growling breaths Arlen was taking as he gripped the crash handle with one paw and kept his pistol below the window with the other, waiting for an opportunity as the van he rode in bounced through the chaotic traffic waves of Sao Paolo, in fast pursuit of his prey.

That fucking lion had eluded him all across Europe and South America, and then again in Sarajevo. Arlen was enraged that his shot there hadn't ended the traitorous bastard, the one who'd turned on him and his unit in this same town a year and more ago. He blamed the fur for Sato's leg, for Buck's eye, and he was going to take it out of the son of a bitch's hide and with great pleasure.

In the passenger area of the van, the other members of Gold team held on for dear life, weapons mostly hugged to their chests as the van jerked and danced through traffic in a fashion far more nimble than seemed possible for a vehicle of its type.

Ahead of them a few car-lengths, the other van was speeding through traffic also, juking between lanes as the driver tried to decide on a course of action.

"Collin." The otter's voice, as always, was calm and collected.

"What?!" As usual, the lion was emphatic, overenthusiastic, or just plain yelling.

"We have to take this off the streets. At this rate, the police will become involved. They aren't breaking the law as badly as we are, it'll go badly for us."

The lion cursed violently under his breath for a second, then punched the driver in the shoulder hard enough to make their van swerve, cutting a cab off.

"In another mile, turn left, hard. See if we can lose them on the surface streets. If that doesn't work, get us into the Rocinha, it'll give us the best chance of finding a quick ambush spot!"

The driver blinked, furrowed his brows, but followed the order.

Back in the white van, Arlen's growl had quieted. Rage had given way to calculation.

"Tam, we're in hot pursuit of Gecko operatives. Headed towards Rocinha. Get in touch with Blue team and see if you can figure out what the hell they were up to."

Tam's voice rang through clear, loud, adrenaline-fueled.

"Blue's already told me that you weren't responding to messages. They're looking into it, but the hospital is chaos. The bus wreck has most of the nurses and doctors running around with no time to talk. My guess is you caught them leaving after reconnoitering."

"The bus was setup for something. You don't make that kind of big fiery distraction just to go look around."

"I don't know about that, Arl. That hospital's a lot better-secured now. I'll look into it."

Ahead of and around them, the city was passing from middle-class straight to tenements, sprawl starting to become evident, with concrete buildings more and more often built atop or abutting each other. They were getting into favela territory, where the law couldn't go.

The tiger turned in his seat, and spoke in a hard tone. His eyes felt dry, and he realized he wasn't blinking, something in him saying that he shouldn't take his eyes off this place for an instant.

"Once they're inside the favela, they won't be able to drive far. Streets are too narrow. This place is going to be nasty, so let's get this done quick and get the fuck outta here. Remember to watch everywhere, the locals don't like outsiders and are well fucking armed, got it?"

Gold team universally nodded, re-checking weaponry as the van swung around a corner.

Ahead of them, the grey van they'd been following had gained a bit of ground and speed...Enough to smash through the impromptu tin and corrugated-steel sheeting wall that blocked Rocinha from the main street, and disappeared into a cloud of dust as metal sheeting flew and slid all over.

Sonofabitch, not this place again...

Arlen felt something shift as their van slid to a stop. Shadows seemed longer, the sunlight somehow brighter, and he could feel the eyes on them, almost count them somehow. The favela looked like a heap of concrete skulls to him, and every eye socket and mouth hole bristled with potential death.

His paw slid the pistol away by reflex, and picked up his UMP-45, the one he still thought of as Sato's, despite his having used it for longer than Sato ever did. He trailed a loving paw down its side, feeling the slight scars it'd earned in his battles. Then the moment passed, and he opened his door, stepping out as his squad moved to cover, piling out of the van's two sliders.

Captain Arlen gestured with one paw, setting up two to his left and two to his right, and the driver to stay with the vehicle. With that, the hunters entered the rust-and-concrete jungle to stalk their fleeing prey.

Gavin was the first out of the van when it stopped a few blocks into Rocinha, ducking low and taking off down the streets alone with the shoeboxed infant under one arm. His best ally was speed, and the hopes that Collin's call to their boss would get extraction to where he needed it quickly enough.

Back at the van, the others piled out and rushed into the nearest building, as Collin pulled tension wire from a pouch on his utility belt. Next to him, his trusty M60 was waiting, beckoning him to let it sing its song of death and terror.

Looping two grenades together with the wire, he used duct tape to affix them to the wall just inside the sliding door, and set up a tripwire to light off the van. Outside the van, he heard the staccato rap-rap-rap of an assault rifle firing towards the road, as one of his men took pot shots into the dust cloud through which the enemy would be coming.

Idiot...This is supposed to be an ambush, not a fucking firefight...

He grabbed up the heavy weapon next to him and took off running, head down to keep the sun out of his eyes as he made for the nearest concealment. A pair of old, battered dumpsters flanked the cloth-covered door into one of the favela tenements, and he ran right through and past a pair of huddled locals, then up the rickety stairs to their second floor.

When he reached the window, he put his back to the wall and glanced out, exposing as little of himself as he could.

Through the cloud of concrete dust, he could see the dim silhouettes of his pursuers. The lion raised his M-60 to his shoulder and braced a footpaw against the short half-wall behind him.

C'mon, c'mon...Walk into the trap, my little flies...

The dust cloud was starting to die down, and Collin frowned, squinting.

"That's not them, they've found a way around!" He yelled it into his collar mic, as he saw the group of confused-looking locals standing in the street, the dust settling around them.

Sonofabitch must have bribed them to stand there! Goddamnit!

Arlen's eyes in the sky had told him about the van being left in an open spot between buildings. Of course, they'd had to risk letting the enemy get away in the time it took Gold three to get up into a building and spy down without being spotted.

The tiger had grabbed one of the locals, shoved a pawful of dollars into its paw, and told it what to do.

By the time the dust was clearing a minute later, the Captain and the remainder of Gold team had moved around, down a block, and back up to the rear of a crumbling concrete structure plastered with old theatrical posters that probably gave it as much structure as the weakened concrete itself.

The tiger's eyes scanned quickly, knowing the enemy would escape the second they got the chance. Their only advantage was that the Gecko mercs had laid an ambush, and were likely sticking around to capitalize on it.

Sure enough, Gold three whispered into the lash just as Arlen was reaching the building to the right of what would have been the ambush spot.

"I see two in the building you're approaching. Fourth floor, left window and middle window."

Arlen made paw sign, and the three Gold team members nodded and moved up to the structure. The tiger broke off, alone, and slunk along the rubble heaps and fallen concrete scree to circle around back of the center building.

He knew this lion's tactics. He remembered their last trip to Rocinha, how Collin had taken the frontal route for his attack. The lion was direct, vicious and skilled but not terribly clever with his tactics.

The tiger kept to building shadows, hoping to give himself time. If the locals got involved after spotting him, this whole thing could go to hell and he knew it. Maybe Lady Luck was finally on his side, he figured, as he slipped through a ragged hole in the back of his target building.

He could hear the silence, like a living thing, writhing through the air leaving just the constant ring of the experienced soldiers' ear in its wake. Arlen slid through the shadows of the building, from one to the next, ascending steps without sound until he came to the third floor, stopping only to glance down hallways and reach out with his hearing, hoping for the sound of his foe.

Having reached the third floor, he threw himself silently up against a wall as the sound of pounding boots reached his ears. Arlen's eyes stayed still and he held his breath, as down the hall dashed that lion, the very one who'd gotten so angry at him in the plane. The tiger's eyes narrowed, as the lion dashed past down the T-intersection of the hall and out of sight before Arlen could draw a bead, whispering in a hiss into his communication system.

"Sonovabitch...Where the fuck are they? Anyone have eyes on the hostiles?"

Arlen came around the corner, his UMP up and braced, and advanced down the hallway Collin had sprinted down. The rubble conspired to make him give up his position, but the tiger knew the game, and was ghosting over the scree of broken concrete.

The lion turned towards him just as Arlen was raising his rifle to fire. Collin's golden eyes widened slightly, as they met the tiger's deep greys. Arlen's vision slowed, the adrenaline coursing through his system, as the lion's paws started to rise, carrying that deadly dragon, the M-60 light machine gun.

A stone crunched under foot, breaking the moment of silence and frozen time, and bullets tore from his UMP and the M-60, an explosion of concrete dust filling his vision as he leapt forward, dolphin-diving to get under the lion's line of fire.

He heard the thuds of bullets impacting his target, as a burping blast of fire went right over his head, so close that their wind tunnel ruffled his headfur. Arlen's finger twitched, squeezing down on the trigger as he ripped out four double-tap trigger pulls

The crashing sound in front of him of an M-60 hitting concrete made him stop pulling the trigger. The dust gusted aside a second later, as wind passed through the perforated building.

In front of him, the lion he'd hunted for so long was against the wall, one paw holding himself up by a grip on the window sill, the other limp at his side, as he stared down at his trauma vest.

Arlen kept his weapon trained, though the awkward angle forced him to aim at the lion's crotch, knowing it would be lightly armored at best. His eyes met the lion's again, and on the way saw that the trauma plate had done its job; it had stopped three direct, short-range hits from a high-caliber weapon. Unfortunately, he'd hit with six of his eight shots. The vest was darkening in the center, as his enemy number's blood was flowing into it.

The lion's lips moved, and he gave a gurgling sound, then slid to the floor as his legs went limp.

Arlen gathered his legs under himself and stood, weapon barrel never leaving his target as he advanced, until its barrel was scant inches from the lion's forehead.

"Sorry, bud. You made a good run for it, but you made too many mistakes. Tell me what you were doing in that hospital, and where I can find Gecko. I'll make it quick."

The lion gave him a red-fanged grin, and managed to roll his left paw over, the middle finger extending against the ground. Though his lungs were punctured, the lion managed to gurgle out a couple of soggy words, as blood trailed down over his chin and dripped to his lap.

"Suck...My...Dick...H-heh..."

Through his earpiece, Gold team reported in.

"Boss, we got the three in our building. Two enemies are KIA, one surrendered. Over."

Arlen nodded, and responded with a gruff, victorious voice.

"Roger that. One more tango down here. That puts us at four. Tam, any idea on their team size?"

"Negative, Captain. Suggest you not stick around though. If they have a second team, this would be the time they'd go in for whatever they were looking for. Something to do with that vixen."

Arlen gazed down his weapon at the dying lion, watching his eyes lid shut. He crouched down and started to pat the male down, policing weaponry and checking for intel.

"Gold team, check that vehicle but be careful. These bastards have a history with explosives and booby traps."

The otter sprinted through Rocinha, making no attempt at stealth. The box under his arm was making noise, noise he took as a good sign. Slight squawking noises, the immature infant's lungs lucky they were able to breathe at all.

Fortune favored the otter, the locals too focused on staying out of this one to get in his way, and within ten minutes of the start of his sprint, he reached the safe house Gecko had left for them.

Skittering inside, he grabbed for the satellite phone hidden under an artfully camouflaging bit of rubble on top of a tarp, pulling the dusty cloth out of the way as he checked over the motorcycle also beneath it.

The phone started ringing as soon as he hit send, and he attached his earpiece wire to it as he got on the bike and started kicking its engine over.

There was no response to the first number dialed, and he frowned. It was possible Collin was busy, in a situation he couldn't talk. Somehow, he knew something had gone wrong. If the ambush had gone off as planned, it would have been over within minutes, not taking nearly this long.

The pit of Gav's stomach felt raw, acidic, and he spat out the bitter taste in his mouth. A sensation of stress was hard for him to even recognize, worry even less intelligible to him. It took him until he was already dialing Gecko to realize that's what was bothering his stomach so much.

His answer, when it came, was in the voice of Gecko's assistant.

"Hello?"

"I have the package. Give me coordinates for pickup. I...Suspect the rest of my team to be KIA."

She could hear soft tears, waves of them, like the ocean crashing its sorrows on the blank white beach of her mind. Slowly, very slowly, she was starting to regain something, though she wasn't sure what it was.

Not until she saw bleary light, and opened her eyes to see her lover, her fiancé, asleep in a chair next to her bed, as a doctor shined a pen light into what felt like very sluggish pupils.

Tasha winced and closed her eyes, though the muscles weren't wanting to obey - She felt as if her whole body was encased in gel, that she had to fight to move at all. Even the doctor's voice sounded to her like it was coming through water, barely comprehensible.

"It looks like you're going to make it, miss. You are one tough lady."

Satisfied with his words, and her understanding of them, she closed her eyes and drifted back into restful darkness.