Chapter 11: Never, Ever, Take a Government Contract

For a government institution, the police were a surprisingly efficient group of dogs in their little branch station. It still took us all day mind you, and the forms could have well buried me alive, but we got it done and hightailed away with our bounty.

The split was fifty-fifty, amazing as that was, and I was happy to have it as I staggered home. It must only be about eight o'clock, but it felt like two in the morning. I'd quit a job, found one, landed face first in English's so called conspiracy - that I wasn't completely convinced I believed in - and last but not least, brought in my first freelance contract.

"Tommy!" I could hardly keep my eyes open, but I was already grinning like a fool. I turned to see her, the light outlining her silhouette through the open doorway.

"Rebeca." I didn't say 'You look beautiful tonight', I didn't even say 'Nice to see you.' I need to work on my flirty dialog.

"You look like something the cat dragged in, Tommy."

"I don't think you could, babe." I leaned on my door jam, about ready to collapse, or fall into her arms, whichever one was closer.

"Your cast is gone, are you all healed?"

I looked down, I'd almost forgotten. Last time she'd seen me I was still hobbling around on one and a half legs. "Yep, the joys of regeneration."

I wiggled my toes at her, she giggled.

"I was hoping you'd be back. I'm going out for a show, want to join me?"

Ding ding ding, jackpot. "A date?"

She smiled coyly. "Sure, a date, or just a couple of friends. Whatever you want it to be."

I'll take the date, thank you very much. "Sounds good to me." I relocked my door and took her arm, covertly using her not to fall on my face.

It was further to the theater district then from my old place, but the quickly cooling night air was refreshing on my nose. Over the tops of the still standing buildings you could see the sun fading to a bloody red, wisps of amber clouds framing it.

Then again, the more local scenery wasn't bad either. The tight red shirt she wore left little to the imagination. Followed up by an old pair of faded jeans, we could be going anywhere from the local pub, to a street brawl.

We must have been out and walking for at least half an hour, but I didn't mind. I'd just as soon face plant into a soft bed, but my arm locked in hers could keep me going through a marathon.

"Penny for your thoughts, wolfy?"

I started from my reprieve, "Uh? Oh, just comparing you to the stars, babe. They lose every time."

She just nailed me in the chest with an elbow and laughed, "Nice try, Romeo. Now, what were you really thinking?"

"Just about life and the universe in general."

"That's all?"

"Something like that." I paused for a moment. "I lost my job today."

"You did?" Her tone was quiet.

I nodded and shrugged. We had to side step around a group of pups and kits playing on the sidewalk. "Well, more like walked out on it. My partner, English, quit while I was horizontal. They didn't like that much, so they decided that they didn't really need me around either."

"They wanted to lose their second best hunter too?" She took a step closer, arm in arm almost turning into a hug.

"Something like that." I reached an arm out over her shoulders, "I made a scene and walked out on them."

"You're out of work now?"

I laughed, "That was my thought too, but looks like the big cat had other ideas, we're working freelance now."

"You can do that?"

The sounds and lights of the district loomed up ahead. Candles, lights, and street performers harked the entrance of what might as well be another world.

"He's got the contacts, and he's number one in the city. If he wants to start a company with me, I'd be a fool not to follow."

"He must have a high opinion of you, Tommy."

I just shrugged, "Smegged if I know, maybe he just wants a fuzzy shield."

She giggled, "Somehow I think there's more to it, but I can go with that."

From the buildings around us, actors and actress cried out their productions in full regalia. Tonight, like any other, you could see anything from a reenactment of the cataclysm (with special effects!), to a trip to the old wild west, even America's ill-fated land war in Asia was on display.

"Where are we going, anyway?" I'd keep walking as long as it took, but now I was all but seeing double.

"Not far now, wolfy." She reached up to touch my nose. I could only hold it for a moment; a sneeze wracked me, taking my feet off the ground. "Sensitive?" She smiled.

"As sensitive as a cat's." I reached back, but she swatted me away.

"Come on then, we're here."

It was hardly one of the more prestigious theaters like the Altraz or the Nanook, but compared to the last place I'd been in, it was more than a step up.

An electric lit sign at the front proudly proclaimed 'St. Elmo's Theater presents the magician James Blackshire.'

In its credit, there was a lineup, we had to wait for one of those old kiosk style box offices to get our tickets. I was so tired that I almost didn't even notice her paying until she had to start rooting through her pockets to find the money.

"It's OK, babe, I've got it." For once in my life I wasn't hurting for spending cash, there was no way I would let her pay while I had the money to spare.

"Tommy, no. It's my treat, I've just got to find the change." She went back to her pockets, oblivious to me sliding a bill across the counter.

"Two, please. Keep the change." The clerk smiled back.

"I've got it..." She looked up as I led her away, pushing a ticket into her palm.

She just looked at me. "Some big bad wolf you are - won't even take a girl for her generosity."

I just shrugged as we walked. "I'm not big, and I'm certainly like to think I'm not bad. One out of three's not so terrible. If you want to go for the full grand slam, I'm sure I can find one of my cousins for you."

She just took my arm again and pulled until my ear was level with her mouth, "That's okay, I'll keep you." It was barely a whisper.

The lights went down in the theater shortly after we arrived, the seats were simple wooden affairs with a thin layer of red velvet draped over them and nailed on, but we sunk down like they were feather beds.

The so called 'Great Blackshire' came out on stage, a lime light following his heels. Behind me, I could hear the lamp hissing away. I guess they could afford electricity for the sign, but not the show.

He was okay I guess, but magic's never really been my thing. His long ears were stuffed up under his top hat, they fell down around his warn black magician's suit as he bowed, pulling it free as the act began.

All the standard stuff I suppose, card tricks, wands, pulled a fake human baby from his hat. We laughed at the right places, gawked when he commanded, and generally made a good and polite audience of ourselves.

I must have dozed off at some point. When I next blinked, the show was over. Some kind of date I was. "Did I miss anything?"

I looked over, her head was on my shoulder, sound asleep as I had been.

I reached out a finger to wake her. The moment I brushed her skin a hand clamped about my wrist and her eyes flew open.

"Tommy!" Her voice was a whisper, but with a hard edge. "I must have fallen asleep." I could see her eyes darting around the room, following its departing patrons. "I'm so sorry, Tommy. I didn't realize."

I just reached out a hand to brush some hair from her eyes. "I did too." We both smiled. "If all we were going to do was sleep, we could have just as well stayed at your place."

"Not just yet, wolfy. You've got to earn that." She reached for my nose again, but I just grinned.

"So, what's my score so far?" I asked.

"I'll tell you when I'm done counting."

We worked our way into the milling crowds that drifted towards the exits, in moments we were dumped unceremoniously back out on the street.

From the west, I could just make out the smell of the surf, held on the night's breeze. We made our way towards it, wandering among the street performers that were brave enough to still be out this close to midnight.

"Where are you from, Tommy?" A gust of cool ocean wind blew through; she snuggled into my fur - a good feeling.

"Been here all my life, my father was a local hunter. How about you?"

"It must be nice." Her face was buried in my side, I was surprised she could even see where she was going. "I'm not from around here." She paused for a few moments, the seconds dragging out as we worked our way down the empty street, the sounds of the district dying behind us. "My family was from Salt Spring Island, off the coast."

"I've hardly even been out of the city...." The silence fell around us, "Is it nice?"

"It was wonderful, wolfy. Warm all the summer and winter long, almost nothing to worry about. Some days I wish I'd never left."

"Why did you?" The beach was almost in sight, I could feel the occasional grains of sand blowing in the wind.

"My mother died. It was only us, and a few dozen other families on the whole island. We just couldn't stay after she died. It's not like here in the big city. On the island you have to look out for yourself. There's a town sure, but you can't lose yourself in it like here. We had it all if we'd bothered to look for it, but we just couldn't stay without my Mom."

I wrapped both arms around her. "I almost lost my Dad once. I can't imagine what it must have felt like. At least you have your Dad, right?"

She didn't look up, just buried herself deeper. "No." I could feel tears on my side. "He's gone. He was there one day, then when I went to see him next he was gone. The door was split open and I never saw him again. Just like all the..."

"Just like what?" Gently, I leaned up against a wall and squatted down. I tugged her from my fur and held her face; I could feel her tears sliding down the pads of my fingers.

The tears still glittered in her eyes, reflecting the light of the moon rising behind me. "Just like what, Rebeca?"

She looked at me, my face; I could feel her searching my eyes. "All the other humans." It came out little more than a whisper, little more than a whimper.

Slowly, I slid the rest of the way to the ground, red brick behind me, and cold concrete below. I pulled her into my lap, resting my chin on the side of her head, atop the hair. My arms wrapped about her. If I held my breath I could almost feel her tremble.

Ah inch from her ear I whispered, "I'm here, Rebeca. No one will ever hurt you while I'm here."

She didn't say a word, I could barely even hear her breath. But slowly, slowly, she relaxed, leaning back into me.

"Is that what you were looking for, a big bad wolf?"

The night swam on around us, I thought she hadn't heard me.

"No. I was looking for someone like you, Tommy."

I could live with that.

We must have lain together for hours, her warm in my arms. Her breathing grew less labored, became even and slow. Looking up, I could see the moon directly above; sometimes I liked to howl, but not right now.

I watched the sun rise, copper and rose. The clouds slowly grew a sheen, glowing wine red, the color for a new day. Rebeca slept on.

Around me, I could hear the sounds of the business people waking for the day and setting out. I gently slung her over my shoulder and headed off for home.

That had to say something about this city. I could walk down the street with an unconscious woman over my shoulder, and no one batted an eye. Not even the cops walking down the street past me, all they did was tip their caps.

I stood for a moment before her apartment door, I almost began rustling through her pockets looking for the key before I decided we weren't quite on that level yet. In any event, my place was right across the hall and just as good.

I laid her across the bed. It took me a moment to remember I had one, as I hadn't yet bothered to sleep in it even once.

The black sheets must have matched the previous owner's pelt, but they'd just look tacky if I got my brown hairs all over them. It was still someone else's room, and I was happy to let her use it.

I rooted through the refrigerator; luckily, I still had a few servings of bones left from our last time out at the restaurant. I sat at the table and gnawed them while I wrote her a note, didn't want her waking up to panic in a strange room. Let's just say I didn't want her to wonder just how far we'd gone last night - that would be a sure way to ruin any chance I might actually have.

I tried a few quick lines, nothing felt right. I stared at the paper for a moment, then at the wall, then my own fur covered reflection in the window. Nothing came to mind. I looked at the pencil in my hand, it was so small, fragile between my claws, like it didn't fit. To be honest, it didn't, not really. There were all sizes of citizens these days, from three foot tall mice, to behemoths like English and Brown, but only one size of pencil.

I tried a few more lines, all I could get out was 'You're at my place, I'm at work. Love, Tommy.' I crossed the 'love' out, why did this have to be so hard?

The pencil snapped in my hand. Well, I guess that's it, I'll run with what I have.

I posted it to the bedroom door as I walked out. First time I've had a girl asleep on my bed, and pardon the pun if you will, but I didn't have the balls to do anything about it.

English never mentioned where to meet him, or when, but I could take a good guess.

The café looked like it was back in business after a drought. The lion was back hitting on the waitresses, and his tab alone must all but keep this place in the black. I pulled up a wrought iron chair and joined him.

"This going on the expenses, English?" I picked up a slab of bacon.

"Nah, mate. I'm sure they'll give it to me for free - they like the celebrity exposure. Don't you, hon?" The rabbit just shot him a look and poured another cup of tea.

"So, what's the game plan, oh great leader? We're running by ourselves, so I'm guessing the playing field just changed."

"Not really," A couple of eggs disappeared like magic, "keep nabbing the bad guys, keep making money. About the same, just less politics. Speaking of politics, I sunk us a new contract with the government yesterday."

"That was fast."

He shrugged. "I'm that good." He sipped a cup of tea. "In any event, mate, we're off hunting terrorists."

"We have terrorists?" That was surprising, "I thought the only person we'd had at that level in years was our friend the swimmer."

"Go figure, mate. The government says we have a terrorist problem, so we have a terrorist problem. They're the folks who classify them anyway, so whoever they say is a terrorist, is. All the better for us anyway, they hand out a nice fat bonus when they stick them at this level. Scares off the amateurs, and you need to pay pros like us a fair ransom to risk life and limb."

"Who's life and limb was that? Back on the Dice, the last I saw of you was when you were sipping champagne and hitting on the money bunnies."

English put up his hands in surrender as he leaned back in his chair. "Research, mate. Had to work the crowds, we didn't know he wasn't there did we, eh? Anyway, if I recall correctly, you were the woof that had the luck with the waitresses that time."

I could swear he saw me blush under my fur. "We had a rough night, she's sleeping it off on my bed."

He reached across the table and slapped my shoulder, a smile bright enough to light a fire off of. "You sly dog. I'm going to have to keep you away from my friends here."

"Hey now, it wasn't anything like-"

He just cut me off, "Relax, Tommy. She was waiting by your bed at the hospital for hours just to see you. You've got something with her."

I shrugged, grabbing a cup of water from the table to cover my face. English must have ordered it for me, I'd practically never seen him drink anything but his beloved tea.

"In any event, mate, we'd best get down to the police headquarters. We've got to take a briefing from them before we set out - they want to keep this well in hand. If we don't make it on time, then you know our old friends will be happy to jump in. They'll be looking for any opportunity to grab meat from between our teeth. They were none too pleased with me when I made off with this contract right under their collective noses."

The police building was in the heart of downtown. A large, square brick fortress like design that stood just a few blocks from the billowing towers of government center. As we walked closer, you could feel the police presence close ranks in all directions. From the outer fringes of the city were you only saw the occasional patrol, to midtown where you could see them every few minutes walking past. The heart and core of the city was crawling with them, standing ram rod straight at almost every intersection and corner.

The dark blue of their uniforms blended into the shadows of the doors and walls around them. Blink and they would seem to disappear, only to be replaced with perfect doubles rounding the far corner.

If I thought the KDP or Storm Front buildings were imposing, I needed to reevaluate that now. The police HQ must be at least three stories tall, all new, featureless red brick. Unlike most new buildings, this one neither had illusions of grandeur, nor was it shoddily constructed and ready to topple down before its older neighbors. Not a single window or ornament broke the blank slate of the straight hard edged building. Only a single plain sign out front even announced its name.

The only door apparent was a heavy steel opening in the exact center of the block. While I couldn't imagine there not being constant traffic in and out, the entrance stood bare, looking tiny in front of the massive structure.

I almost expected the hinges to screech open with the howl of a bad theater sound effect, but rather it slid silently to usher us within. Inside, it was small, simple, bright and bland.

The room couldn't be more than a hundred square feet in total. A few small seats, and a long service counter reaching across the room lengthwise was all we found within. Three stern police officers stood at attention, staring determinedly out into the middle distance.

English seemed to choose one at random, walking up with a cheery smile that was promptly ignored.

"State the nature of your concern." Behind the uniform was a German Shepherd, so tightly trained and controlled that I could hardly see him either breathe or blink.

"Morning, officer. Tommy and I have a meeting scheduled with Inspector Sayer."

"And you would be?"

The lion tried to look hurt as he leaned on the spotless counter. "English. English the bounty hunter."

"First and last name, please." The dog didn't even move his eyes to follow the cat lounging in front of him.

"English, mate. If you really want it, then try 'English English'. Got it?"

"One moment, Mr. English." The canine turned sharply and walked stiffly through a door at the back of the room. The other two officers hadn't even acknowledged our existence.

I came up behind the lion, he was lounged up all over the counter, but I couldn't bring myself to put my fingerprints all over its glossy wooden surface.

"I've never been here before, English. Are all the cops around here like this?" I looked around, not a single picture or poster adorned the walls, just unblemished red brick.

"The closer you get to the center of the den, the stricter they are, mate." He jerked a thumb towards the other two. "To get a job in such a vaulted assignment as this you all put have to take a stick straight up. It's like a cup of black coffee to them every morning."

It didn't take long; the Shepherd was back, precise steps, his claws clicking on the brick floor like a metronome. "Mr. English, Mr. Taggert. If you will please follow me. Inspector Sayer will see you now."

Through another door in the back and down a featureless whitewashed hallway, bare light bulbs and unlabeled doors dotted the walls at regular intervals. I hope they didn't expect us to make it out of here on our own. It must have been better than a half dozen turns and two flights of stairs before we stopped at a door just like all the others.

"Inspector Sayer will see you now." He nodded at us. "I will accompany you out when you are finished."

He opened the door and ushered us in without another word. The room within was much like the hallway we had just exited, only shorter and wider, with a dark wooden desk set squarely in the center.

By the looks of it he had been a Great Dane at some point in the distant past, now he was little more than a ghost. He occupied the only seat in the room, English and I just stood at lazy attention while he adjusted the spectacles that sat loosely from his atop.

His moves were just as precise and exacting as the younger dog's outside the door, only slower. "English again I see. You've brought a new partner once more."

"Partner is the right word for the first in a long time." English paused for a moment. "You were right about leaving SF, Bob. They've gone down the pit. I just bottomed out on them."

The dog nodded sagely. "I'd heard, and you took your friend with you too, Tommy is it?"

"That would be me." I stepped forward and offered him my hand, he just looked at me blankly for a moment.

"Bob, mate, did all that training make you forget how to shake a paw, boy?" English poked him in the shoulder. "Don't mind him, mate. Around here, they would expect you to salute even if you're passing on the way to the lou."

The dane creakily stood and came around the desk to shake with a warm, firm hand. To call him a ghost wasn't far from the mark. Behind the uniform, he was pale white, almost seven feet, and couldn't weigh more than a hundred pounds. He looked like a scarecrow dressed up in police livery.

"Do you know what you're getting yourselves into here, English? Tommy? I know you're riding high on your last big catch, but the government has classified these folks as a high threat to society. And we're not just talking one or two, we're talking at least a couple dozen at the minimum."

English just smiled. "Just like the old days. No paperwork, no bureaucrats, just the hunters and the prey. If I recall, the contract specifies that the bounty is to be dead only, don't see that much anymore."

"Oh yes." The Dane nodded, his head seemingly almost enough to topple him over. "But there is one small clause that was not outlined in the copy of the contract you received."

The cat's eyes narrowed. "What is it, Bob? You play a straight deal with me, you always have. What's going on?"

"Not my jurisdiction, came straight from an order of the government. You are to be accompanied by a representative of the police force for the duration of this hunt. It won't affect your bounties, you'll get everything any of you bring in, but he is to report that the hunt was successful."

"No." English crossed his tawny arms. "That's not going to happen, Bob. I quit to get away from games like these. You're not going to drag me back into these back stabbing waltzes. I'm not going to bite, get yourself another cat to play on your string."

The dog just sighed, a rustling sound coming from deep within his chest, as though the bones themselves were rubbing together. "You don't leave me any options, English. Storm Front was here an hour ago, they tried to bid in at half the bounty we're paying you. The government doesn't care who we hire as long as the job gets done, and for the least amount possible. I had to fight to remind them we already gave the contract to you."

English looked like he would have thrown something through the wall, but the only thing within reach was a single sheet of paper on the otherwise bare desk.

"You win. You always win, Bob. Who's the ne'er-do-well who'll be nipping at my tail the whole time?"

"I believe you've already met him. Constable Jon Oaks. He walked you here." The Dane sat down behind his desk again, a picture of serenity.

"You mean the mutt who can't walk anything other than a straight line?" I can't believe I just said that.

The dane's eyes swiveled to watch me. "You're rubbing off on this one, English. Watch you don't get a protégé. Yes, Corporal Oaks will be assisting you in your contract. Please call him in, won't you?"

English turned and rapped on the door a couple of times. "Hey, ramrod! Sayer wants you in here." The canine appeared in the blink of an eye.

"Inspector." He snapped out a salute crisp enough I thought he was going to cut his forehead.

"At ease, Constable." The old dog returned the salute. "You've met your charges. You three will be working together until the conclusion of this contract. Constable Oaks here is our specialist in combat and infiltration."

"Wonderful." English muttered under his breath. "He can fight like a piece on a chess board, and if startled he'll pretend he's a tree."

"Any questions, gentlemen? If not, then Oaks will provide you with our dossier."

English waved a hand at the old dog as he stalked out, the Shepherd saluted. I just nodded and left.

"Get us out of here, bow-wow, and try to keep your tail out of the way." English said, all but shoving him down the hall.

"Very good, sir." He led us to a cramped room with a few chairs and a small table. "If you'll be good enough to wait here, I will return in a moment." He placed a slim folder on the table before us. "As promised, here is our available intel on the situation." And he was gone.

English fell upon the folder like it had personally wronged him; claw marks were left in the cover as he threw it open. He spread the few papers that there were within across the table, it was disappointing to say the least. A handful of photos of a building, black and white and out of focus, you could hardly even make out what it was. The only other thing of note was a snatch of hand written papers with times and addresses, not a name to be seen.

It took us only a few minutes to cover what little they had. "English, you know where this is?"

"Yep." He didn't look up.

"That's where Huston jumped me a couple of days ago. That place wasn't filled with terrorists trying to bring down the world, it was humans dressed in rags and huddling over scraps."

"Yep."

"Wait." I looked at him, "How do you know what was there? It was just me and Huston."

He looked up at me, didn't bother to smile. "Why do you think I sent you to tail the guy?"

"You knew they were there all along?"

"Yep." He leveled me with a gaze, "I wasn't expecting this, mate. But if we back out now, we'll set off more bells than anyone wants."

I felt about ready to try and tear a strip off him, but our conversation was cut short by a visitor. He was wearing a light black leather vest, and had at least a dozen gold piercings spread about his nose, ears, and other places I won't bother to mention. His chest was shaved in intricate designs and logos that I didn't recognize, but they weren't something I was expecting to see on a billboard anytime soon.

He walked like a man that had been beaten one too many times in his youth. A quick skutter, followed by a stop as he scanned everything around him, looking for a hand coming down, a place to hide. The only other thing he wore other than the vest was a chain wrapped around his narrow hips.

It took me a moment to realize that this was the same dog who moments ago had been covered from ankle to neck in a deep blue police uniform, indistinguishable from any of the others in the building. The only thing that hadn't changed were his cobalt blue eyes, though they looked sunken now, as beaten as his body.

'Jon?' I cocked my head, the inspector had said he was an expert at infiltration, but this was a little more than I was expecting. I would have been surprised if he'd put on anything more than a fake mustache and glasses.

"Mr. Taggert. Mr. English. We may now depart at your discretion." The voice hadn't changed at all, still precise and clipped. It sounded like it was coming from someone else, not this pathetic form in front of us that didn't even have the backbone to stand up straight or make eye contact.

English didn't look up. "Fine, bow-wow. Get us out of here." The dog slinked and departed, we followed behind. I would have expected someone to catch us in the hallways. Wondering about without an obvious escort in the heart of police central would not be something I would wish for, but we didn't meet a soul.

It felt like we must have walked at least twenty minutes, though countless hallways and up and down more than four flights of stairs. At long last we stood before a heavy steel door, the first unique thing I'd seen yet in this building.

"An alternative exit from the headquarters." Jon said, turning to us. "It would not be appropriate for you to be seen leaving after having acquired a new companion."

"Nice." English pushed past, the door slammed open and we were out on the street, the red brick of the police HQ two blocks behind us.

We must have looked like the circus was in town, English striding ahead, acting as if he owned the world. I was stuck in the center just trying not to get run over by the people heading in every direction, and Jon behind, trailing along like a whipped puppy. If I spend too much time with this guy, people might start wondering about my sex life.

We worked our way back out of downtown; the police we passed didn't give us so much as a second glance, if they even knew what we were doing. With every step from the HQ, Jon fell more and more into character. To be honest, he was starting to freak me out a little bit. If I hadn't seen him so cut and pressed an hour ago I would have thought we were being followed by a stray.

The neighborhood with the human's warehouse was no prettier in the daylight then it had been under the moon. If anything, it was even more run down now that I could get a better look at it.

I held my breath the last few blocks, waiting for us to come upon a human patrol, but nothing. We circled the building itself, the door that Huston had shouldered in was still as he had left it, flat off its hinges.

I was grateful to smell almost no blood in the air. After that night I wasn't so sure we'd wouldn't be seeing bodies. Scuff marks marred the floor and walls, but there was little else to be seen.

We spread out and covered the building, English hung near the doorways, I poked through the burned out waste cans, and Jon wandered among the piles of litter that could be found here and there, scattered where people had congregated.

"Brown." English rubbed his chin, peering at the fallen door. "Huston could never have done this by himself." His knuckle rapped on the panel, "Pure steel, pro installed hinges, our tiger would have just bused himself and ended up with little more than a polite knock."

I walked over to him and looked down. "I didn't see anyone else but Huston when I was here." English shot a glance to Jon. The dog was watching us, ears swiveled forward. "Why wouldn't he have joined the fight?"

"Good question." He waved a hand in the air and walked off, "I've no idea. But if Brown was involved, then this has to have been a full SF operation. The old bear doesn't freelance, even if Huston might just be out for the sport."

"You have been here previously, Mr. Taggert?" I didn't turn my head, it was easier to reconcile that dry and professional voice when I didn't have to see his face.

"Yes." I shrugged, "They didn't look much like terrorists to me at the time. I left when other members of Storm Front showed up; I was still working with them back then."

"Curious," was all he said.

I rooted about on all fours, sniffing for a few moments to see if I could pick up any trace of my friend I'd tracked here. Unfortunately, while I could still make out the faint scent of oil hanging in the air, it was too few and far between to try and track. We might be able to call in a cop sniffer unit, but with English's reaction to just one of them following us around I didn't want to bring up the suggestion of a whole pack.

We must have spent at least six hours going through every brick and crack in that building. By the time we were done I could close my eyes and still see the dirt streaked floor, smell the dust and scent of unwashed humans. It was all for nothing, while they'd left a lot of trash spread about, and more than enough signs to convince a blind man they'd been here, we hadn't found a single clue as to where they'd went after they streamed out in all directions. Whoever had orchestrated their escape had expected to be followed; they had split up and disappeared into the nearest thoroughfares where tracking was impossible.

"English, I give up," I said, slumping down against a wall. It must be three o'clock by now, and we'd never even stopped for lunch.

"I'm not going to be out foxed by a pack of humans." He spared me a glance, then, with a dramatic huff, and a weary eye towards Jon, settled down beside me. "They knew we'd be coming after them, and they've covered their tracks. Any scent trails been whisked away, no little handwritten notes, no nothing, mate."

Jon simply stood beside us, his back must be aching, having spent the entire day bent forward in that 'kick me' posture of his, he didn't sit down though.

"I concur. I could call in a forensics team to review this location if you wish, but I'm afraid it may call too much attention to our investigation."

English growled as he pried himself up from the floor. "Don't even try it, bow-wow. I've got enough trouble without you calling in more of your friends. With our luck, they'd probably come dressed as street performers."

The dog's back straightened at the barb, putting him in an odd posture, frozen half way between his two personas.

"I can assure you, Mr. English, that I am strictly one of a kind. No other officers on staff perform the same duties as I do."

English didn't even smile as he walked out. "So, you were the only one whipped that bad back at the puppy mill?"

Oak didn't say a word, but I watched his ears twitch as he stalked away.