Chapter 7: Dealing With Dominance

Even after everything the city had been through, the old street looked just about the same. The road was a little more cracked, and some of the houses saw a a touch more wear and tear, but it was just like I remembered it.

I could hear the police dogs panting and gasping as they struggled to catch up with me. None of them had been willing to run on all fours.

I rose back upright now, slowing as I came to a stop before the house. My parents were getting older, and the lawn was a touch overgrown, but it was still home.

Three paces up the walkway and I was standing before the sky blue front door. I almost expected my mother to open it the moment I stepped up. Not today.

A quick knock and I waited.

The door cracked open a few moments later. More hesitantly than I was used to.

"Yes?" It was my mother's voice. She sounded tired. I couldn't see her around the door. "Tommy?"

A heartbeat later the door was wide open and she'd pulled me silently into the house, her arms wrapping around me.

"Tommy." Her voice was near silent, hardly above a whisper. "Gods, Tommy, I've been so worried about you."

"It's okay, Mom. I'm here now." I wrapped my arms around her. "I... I need to see Dad."

She stiffened slightly in my grasp. "He's out back, Tommy. But... I don't think you should..."

I pressed my face into her hair for just a moment before letting go.

"I need to do this. I can't afford not to." I was rambling now as I walked through the house.

Gods, I really did need to do this. Though I wasn't quite sure what this was yet. I had too many enemies, and I couldn't afford for my own father to be one of them.

My mother stepped away as I neared the back door. She didn't even have to tell me where I'd find my father.

Two steps down the stairs at the back of the house and my claws sunk into the soft earth.

Every other time I'd been here, bar none, the familiar memories of this small yard had never failed to wash my fears away. Now they magnified them.

My father's grey body was laying under his favourite tree. The same place I could remember him from a million times in my youth.

I padded silently across the turf. My body very nearly moved of its own accord. My tail was down, ears back, eyes to the ground. Even in the most sacred of family places I couldn't ignore that he was the alpha.

His eyes never opened, he never made a single move to acknowledge me as I came to stand beside him.

I could feel a whimper growing in my throat.

"You shouldn't be here, Son. I still haven't decided what I'm going to do with you." His voice was dry and cracked. It was only then that I noticed the gashes that covered his body. He was torn by claw marks and bites. None were enough to inflict any mortal wounds, but he was still bleeding.

"Dad! What happened?" I didn't lay in my normal little dell in the earth beside him, but rather fell to my knees, my fingers probing at his cuts.

He didn't complain or shake me off as I gently touched him. He hardly moved at all.

"Your Uncle Gowan and I got in a disagreement after the party last night. About your place in the pack." He winced slightly as I shifted his arm to find more wounds underneath. "It seems that he doesn't see pack law in quite the same way I do."

I didn't say anything. It was all I could do to keep my eyes focused on his blood matted fur.

"Gowan thinks I should release you from your status as a hunter." He coughed out a laugh, "He doesn't truly think you were ever a hunter to start with."

"And what do you think, Dad?"

One of his hands shot out lighting quick to grab my mussel, forcing me to meet his ice blue eyes. "You're my son. I plan on keeping you as close to me as I can." His lips raised, revealing the cracked and yellowed fangs beneath. "I've almost lost you too many times, Tommy. You can play the world however you like, but I'll be here for you until the day you have to drag me out into the forest and bury me."

His hand didn't come free from my face until he'd pulled me down to lay beside him.

"Does this mean you're no longer deciding whether or not to have me killed?" I asked meekly.

There was a growl in his voice when he responded, but I wasn't sure if it was directed at me. "I was never going to kill you, Son. There were a great many things I might have done to you, not the least of which was paddle your tail like a two year old, but I wasn't going to kill you." He laughed now, "I've invested too much in you, Tommy. I'm too old to make another son. You'll just have to do."

"Gee, thanks, Dad. That makes me feel so much better."

His arm came out to fall across my chest. A year ago it had pinned me. It didn't anymore.

"Though I still need to decide how I'm going to deal with you for disobeying me."

My ears pulled back even further. "I can't let you kill him, Dad." I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to relax. It did little good. "But I will admit that I didn't pick the best friends."

I brought him up to speed on the current plan with Sayer. He didn't say much as I spoke, just huffed out a breath every now and then. He waited until I was done before he responded.

"I never was able to understand those domestics." His lips rose in a snarl, "The dogs. They look so much like us, Tommy. But every time I kid myself into trying to think we're the same, one of them goes and pulls something like this. They're not wolves. We need to remember we're not the same."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My father, the man who had married a sprigen, put up with me not hunting for most of my life, and now he was speaking like this?

"It's not the dogs, Dad..." I stammered out, "It's just Sayer."

He waved a hand at me. "Fine, Son." A sigh escaped his lips. "You've gotten yourself dug into a deep den this time. How was it that only a year ago you were still a pup who'd yet to make his first kill, hadn't even become a wolf?"

I could feel myself blushing under my fur.

"Dad... "

He chuckled. "Very well, what are we going to do now, mayor?"

I wrestled his hand off me, slowly getting to my feet. "Well, I thought the first thing we should do is make a visit to police HQ."

He was struggling to sit up beside me, but he still managed to cock his head.

"I'm they mayor, the guy he tried to kill, and you're the hunter's alpha. I don't see anyway they could refuse to let us see him."

I reached out a hand to pull my father from the ground. He took it without a second thought. I handed him his cane, but he chose to lean on me instead.

"Very well, my son. Perhaps it is time the mayor and the alpha made a joint visit to the jail."

Saying goodbye to my mother, we left the house. I could feel my father's fur rise when he saw the dogs who waited for us on the street.

I tightened my arm around his shoulders and walked on.

The lead dog bowed his head to me. "Sir." Then looked to my father. "Sir."

"We're going to HQ." I told him offhandedly as we began to walk down the street.

"Sir? Uh, are you sure that's a good idea? I'm sure there is much pressing business waiting for you back at your office."

I had to suppress the growl that grew at the back of my throat. It took everything I had to keep my voice light and unconcerned. "No, I don't think so. This is part of my official duty."

We walked on without a backward glance.

The journey to the police HQ was shorter than the run from the apartment to my parent's house, but it took far longer.

As the alpha, it took everything my Dad had to admit to weakness in public. He'd had to give up the post in the first place because of his leg, but now he held it again, and needed to project the proper image of strength.

We did make it in due time. The walk took long over an hour, and we didn't say much as it wore away. I had a million questions I wanted to ask him, but the presence of the dogs behind us made me wary. I had to content myself with just having the warmth of his body next to me.

I'd taken the liberty of ordering the dogs in attendance to not to run ahead and alert their brethren. I was pleased to see the shocked reactions on the police officer's faces as I got closer to HQ.

It wasn't that there should be any real alarm at seeing the mayor and alpha together, but... how could I say this... the mayor tends to represent the city, the civilized in academic side of society. The hunter's alpha? Not so much. The fact that he was my father just made it more complicated.

I let the door of the station boom open in front of us as we stepped in. There were a half dozen people queued up in front of us to talk to a representative of the force. They peered our way for a moment before dismissing us. All they saw were a pair of unremarkable wolves.

We didn't bother with the line as we walked past the front desk. "We're here to see the man who tried to assault me."

The nearest dog had been helping someone at the desk. I could see the skin around his eyes go pale as I kept walking.

"S-sir. I'll, uh, get Commissioner Sayer for you if you'd just wait a moment."

"I don't want Sayer." We kept walking towards the small door behind the desk. It was the only other exit from the room. "Sayer can hang. We're going to see the man now."

Two steps further and the dog had completely abandoned his post at the desk to usher us deeper into the building. I heard someone complaining from back in the waiting room.

"This is most unusual, Sirs." The dog had regained some small measure of his composure. "It is highly ill-advised for people of your rank to be meeting with a man accused of attempted murder."

It was my father who responded. His voice was so low, so tinged with menace that not even the prim police dog could avoid bowing his head and acknowledging the alpha.

"An 'attempted murder'? Do you even know of what you speak, mongrel? He is one of my hunters, and he attacked a fellow hunter. This is not a matter for your civilized laws. His status is for me to decide alone."

The dog bowed back, his tail on the floor. "Of course, Sir. It was simply assumed that Mr. Taggert's position as mayor superseded his status as a--"

My father's hand had shot out to wrap around the dog's neck in the blink of an eye, pulling him close. My father no longer leaned on me, but stood straight under his own power.

"My son was born a hunter. Never forget that."

"Of course, Sir." Was all the dog could squeak out before my father released him.

We were handed off to another dog who took us underground. Our new guide noticed the other's sore neck, but he didn't say anything.

It was three levels down. Gods, this must be close to where they'd stored English and I. I was beginning to fear for what condition we might find the bobcat in.

"Have you been able to get any information out of the suspect?" I asked our guide.

He shook his head, a sharp, hard snap.

"No, Sir. I've been given explicit orders on what methods I may and may not use." He paused, choosing his words carefully, "Most of our interrogation for suspects of this importance are handled by... outside personnel. I am the service's top interrogation officer, but I am unsuited to perform work of this calibre."

I let out a small sigh. Well, that was a good sign. It looked like I at least had some small measure of real power if I could keep the cat's pelt intact.

"What do we know?"

The dog shrugged. "Little of use. His name is Quin Logan, he's a hunter, and he's thirty-one years old."

"I already knew that." My father's voice was little more than a snarl. "He's one of my own. I know who he is. I just need to know why."

The dog shrugged again.

About ten minutes later he stopped in front of a thick steel door. Just like the ones that had held English and I.

"If you would just wait a moment, Sirs, I'll call an escort to secure the cell for you."

My father didn't even bother with words. All that made it from his lips was a growl.

"It is fine as it is, officer." I shot the dog a glare. "We'll handle this alone."

"But, Sirs..."

I held his eyes until the dog was forced to look away.

"I said, we'll handle this. Open the door."

"Yesir."

The dog's hands were shaking as he pulled out his keys. He may be loyal to Sayer, but there's a lot to be said for paying allegiance to the people who are within arm's length.

The door swung open with a screech that set my teeth on edge. Within was the cat. He must have been sleeping, but the shreak of the door was more than enough to awaken anybody.

He saw me and went still. He saw my father and began to shake.

I pulled the door closed behind us without a word, sealing the dog away.

My father was standing under his own power again. He walked forward smoothly, not a hint of weakness showing.

"Hello, Quin." His voice was level and smooth. There wasn't a hint of growl or anger. That made it all the more terrifying.

"Alpha." The cat's eyes were firmly set on the floor.

Felines were always an odd ingredient to add to the hunters. There were far fewer of them than there were canines in the ranks. They didn't see the structure as a pack like we canines did... they saw it as something different.

"Are you here to kill me for my crime, alpha?"

Kneeling down, my father took the cat's chin gently in his claws. "Perhaps." He paused. "Most likely. You will tell me what happened. Then, once I know your crime, will I decide the sentence."

"Yes, alpha." The cat tried to look away, but my father held him firm. The moments dragged out. My father didn't say anything, and I hadn't the slightest what I should do.

In the end, it worked. The cat began unbidden, speaking quickly, in starts and stops.

"Please... I just needed the money for my wife and kitts. Our home was destroyed in the quake, we don't have anything. I needed the money to put a roof over our heads, to feed them." He looked up pleadingly into my father's eyes. He didn't say anything. "I got the offer from a man in a bar. He just told me to wait outside that apartment building for a wolf and kill him. He was willing to pay me enough to last months."

It was only then my father spoke. His voice was a calm monotone, as though mechanical. "You were in a bar. I assume you were drinking. You didn't have enough money to feed your family."

The cat still couldn't look away. It was all he could do to close his eyes to hide from my father's gaze.

"I had too... had to relax, you know. I love them, alpha, please believe me. Gods, I love them. But..."

My father simply remained silent again until the cat resumed his story.

"The guy at the bar offered me the job. It was a fellow cat. That's all I know. He gave me a hundred bucks, an address, and a photograph. That was it. And... he told me not to use my claws, not to get too close, not to touch him directly."

"That was all, alpha. I took the money... had a few more beers and set out. The next morning I saw the wolf from the photograph." He nodded his head towards me, "You. I didn't even think anything of it, alpha. I thought the hunting laws would protect me. Gods, please," He looked at me, eyes wide, "I thought I could blame it on you, say that you'd provoked me and get away scot-free."

"I followed and waited until you were alone, just you and the woman." He looked back towards my father, "He'd picked a construction site, so I just grabbed the first thing that came to hand. I thought he was dead on the first blow. No one should have been able to survive a strike like that." His eyes were closed again now. "Then the woman attacked me, then the dog. Then..." He shuddered, opening his eyes and looking towards me once more, "You... you stood up and the wind shifted. Then I could smell you."

"Who is he, Quin?" My father's voice was as cold as the Pacific in midwinter.

"He's your son, alpha. I didn't know, I swear I didn't know. I knew you had one, I'd even heard he was back in town, but I didn't know." His voice had become shrill.

"And what did you do, Quin? Did you fall to your knees and beg forgiveness once you realized you had done wrong?"

"No, alpha." His eyes were open, staring straight into my father's now. "I ran." He let out a sigh. "I knew I'd done wrong, so I ran. I thought that if I could just escape capture I could escape my punishment."

"And did you, Quin?"

"No, alpha."

"What else do you know, Quin." My father's voice was slow, detached. It could have frozen the nose of a polar bear.

"I don't know anything else, alpha. I swear. I was hired by a cat in Club Bedlam, downtown. He offered me money, and I took it. I didn't know what I'd done until it was too late."

My father didn't say anything for a long time. When he finally spoke it was like a judge passing down a sentence. I could hear the weight it put on him with every word.

"Quin, you know that I could pardon you for what you've done. You know that I could make this a hunter's matter and set you free." The cat didn't say a word. "You've made a mistake Quin. You've told me how sorry you are for trying to kill my son. You've told me how you realized you did wrong when you discovered it was him." His voice fell to a snarl now. "You've never once said that you feel regret for accepting the contract in the first place. If it were not my son, had you not been caught, you would feel nothing for the one you murdered."

Only then did my father turn to me. His eyes were as cold as his voice.

"Tommy, leave."

"But..."

"Now." His voice didn't raise to a snarl, yet there was little I could do but obey.

Out through the door, the hinges screamed to high heaven as I swung them back shut behind me. The two of them were alone now.

The dog was out here, but I didn't say a word to him.

I was leaning against the door, ears straining against my will to pickup even the slightest sound from within.

I heard the whisper of my father's voice. Then nothing.

The door screamed behind me, but my father pulled it shut again before I could see within.

There was the heavy copper scent of blood in the air.

The police dog's mouth was agape, but I didn't give him the time to question us before, taking my father's shoulder, we began towards the surface again.

The dog was well behind us when I whispered in my father's ear, "What did you say to the bobcat back there?"

My father's voice was soft, like he'd aged a decade in the last few minutes. It was only now that I noticed the blood on his teeth. "That there is no dignity in death, but there is redemption." He sighed. "The pack will be looking after his family now."

The climb to the surface was long and slow. Every step seemed to be a challenge for my father.

We just about made it, too. It was only scant feet to the receiving room, then on to fresh air.

The foot steps of all the dogs in this place sounded exactly the same, yet I still recognized the pair coming up from behind.

Jon was beside me, opposite my father. He wasn't silly enough to try and stand between us and the doorway.

"Sir." He almost stammered it out. "What did... did you... please tell me you didn't."

My father shot him an angry glare. "This is hunter's business, dog. Stand aside."

I almost had to force myself between them to keep my father back as Jon shyed away.

"Dad! It's Jon. He's on our side."

"Sir," Jon continued, making sure to stay out of the other wolf's reach, "Sayer just heard what happened and he's furious. I highly suggest the two of you get out of the area right now."

I felt a small, perverse smile slip to my lips. "Jon, take my father home. Sayer and I are going to have a chat."

"What?" The two of them spoke nearly in unison.

"Sir," Jon paused for a moment to clear his throat, "I'm sure you must be mistaken..."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm the mayor, aren't I? That means I'm his boss. I plan to start making him regret it."

"Son, the top dog of all the police isn't someone you want to make your enemy... just yet, anyhow."

I shrugged out of my father's grasp, grabbing Jon by the arm and pulling him closer.

"Jon, take him home."

"Now wait a minute! I'm not going to be carried around by--"

I forced myself to hold my father's eyes. "Jon is my friend, and I trust him with my life. You're a wolf, he's a dog. Get over it."

I turned and was off before anyone could get another word in.

I hadn't any idea where Sayer's office was, but I doubted that was going to be a problem.

My suspicions were confirmed a moment later when a patrol of dogs came marching double time around the white washed corner.

"Sir, we're under orders to escort you to Commissioner Sayer immediately."

I just smiled. "And away we go."

I took a slow and meandering pace down the hallway. It drove the dogs mad, but none of them would so much as say a word.

Much like last time, there was no indication when we'd reached Sayer's office. He was the top dog, but his room was unmarked and hardly different from any other.

His receptionist didn't even bother to stop me. He just looked up and instantly sprung from his seat to open the inner door as I walked in.

This may be the first time that I've truly been alone with Sayer. Either Jon or English had always had my back before. I'm not sure if it felt liberating or just downright scary.

The Great Dane didn't even bother to stand up as I stepped into his office. His spindly arms rested limply on the desk. I wondered if I stripped away that impeccable police uniform if there would be anything left beneath.

"Hello, Mr. Taggert." His voice was a dry whisper.

I took a seat across from him, moving through the room like I owned it.

"Hello, Sayer. I've been told that you wanted to talk to me." I lifted my lips in what could be interpreted as a friendly grin.

"Yes..." He petered off, almost seeming to fall asleep for a moment. "I've had a disturbing report--"

"Please do tell," I cut him off, "I'm so burred in paperwork back at my place that it seems folks are trying to smother me. I swear to the gods that I sign so many papers in a day that I hardly know what's going on in the world anymore."

"Yes," He continued, pushing on as if trying to block my chatter from his brain. "I've heard reports that you're starting to act... erratic. As mayor, I'm sure that you can understand that the municipality needs a stable figurehead to look up to."

There it was. He'd used the word himself. Figurehead.

"Oh, I'm not so sure about that, Sayer. The reconstruction seems to be coming along great, better than anyone could ever have expected." I almost saw the dog smile at that. "I'm figuring it's time I reached out and spread my wings a bit. I'd have assumed that you'd be the first to back me. You were, after all, the one to put me in this position."

"I... yes, I did." He nodded his head grudgingly. "I'm just not so sure about your timing, Sir. We've been pushing incredibly hard to keep the reconstruction going at this speed, it's a very delicate matter... and I'm not sure about your little indiscretion at the party last night."

I groaned. Had everybody heard about that? I hadn't even done anything!

"Sayer," I levelled a glare at the dog. He held up under it well. "May I remind you that it was the decision of your men that I should attend? That they failed to give me proper warning or prep?"

"Yes," Sayer finally averted his eyes. "I've realized that. I've had a long talk with Constable Oaks. It will not happen again."

"It's not Oaks who's the problem here, Sayer." I forced him to look at me again. "Oaks is mine. Not yours. His discipline is my concern." Did I detect a ruffling of the dogs coat at that comment? "I'm more concerned with your men making me a prisoner of paper in my own home."

His face screwed up. "Everything you've been doing has been vital, Mr. Taggert..." He let out a huff, the straight lines of his body softening. "Tommy. You were the one who brought this down on us, we need you to help us heal, rise from the ashes."

"If I'm the one you need, Sayer, then let me do the job."

I could hear his teeth grinding together. "So far, Mr. Taggert, you don't appear to be doing much of a job by yourself. I introduce you to possibly the most important man in the city and you get drunk off your tail and disappear. I had four squads out looking for you."

I smiled. "And it was Oaks who found me."

He continued unabated, "And now I hear that you've stormed into my building and interrogated my prisoner using the very techniques that you forbid me? And you brought in a hunter? You brought a dirty beast into my home?" His voice had risen.

I wasn't far behind. "I brought my father. The hunter's alpha. You'll watch your tongue when calling him a beast. I'm every bit as much of a wolf as he is. If you don't like the idea of a beast being in your midst, then you shouldn't have put one in office!"

I was leaning forward across the desk now, nearly pressed nose to nose with him. I hadn't fallen to a growl yet, and my teeth still covered my lips, but I wasn't far off.

Second by second, I could hear the gears grind in the old dog's head. The only question was if my perceived worth was greater than the trouble I was causing.

"As you say, Mr. Taggert. I apologize. I was out of line."

The scarey thing was that I think he was being honest.

"But I must insist," He continued, "To know what you learned from the feline. Your safety is the utmost concern to me, and I simply cannot allow you to roam the streets if there is a danger."

Well, that was the trick. He hadn't quite said it outright, but if I didn't tell him what the bobcat had said, he'd more than likely find some obscure law to allow him to lock me away in my apartment for good.

I paused for a moment, deciding what to say.

"Commissioner," I sat back down in my chair and reigned my voice to a civil tone, "I'd be more than happy to share what we've learned... assuming that you can meet a few requirements set out by the Executive?"

The dog's eyes narrowed, but the barest of smiles touched his lips, "And what would the executive branch of the government be requesting?"

"Not much, I can assure you," I mirrored his grin, "One: We're both going to be carrying out investigations. You have your police force, and I have my... resources. This is my life we're talking about here, so I expect us to share information."

The dog nodded. "As long as you understand that we are doing this for your own safety. I expect to be keeping you from danger. And," He pointed a finger at me, "That this sharing goes both ways."

I nodded. "Two: You've run the government, and frankly, you've done a good job. But I am mayor. You want to protect me? Fine, it's part of your job, but call off the mother hens. This is my life and my show. Stop locking out the people I want to see, stop sanitizing what I get to know, and stop burying me in meaningless paperwork."

The dog's already ghost white face paled even more at that. "Every paper I've sent you has been absolutely critical."

Now it was my turn to wag a finger at him. "Then only send me the most critical. I already told Able and Baker to use their brains... but I see that's not a problem for you. I'm willing to read and sign ten pieces of paper a day, no more. You'd better make them good, Sayer, or I'll do what English does with his paperwork -- use it for kittylit--"

"Yes, yes. I understand. So, mayor, have we come to an agreement?" I nodded. "Very well. What did you learn from my former inmate?"

I gave him a quick run down about the assassination contract, the club, and the cat who had handed it out.

"And you're sure there was nothing more he was hiding?" The dog shook his head. "I would have been able to discover far more if you'd just let me--"

I loosed out a growl. "I already feel bad for what was done to the cat. Don't make me feel worse for what I could have allowed."

"Very well. If there's nothing else, I have an investigation to conduct."

I stood to walk out, but couldn't resist tossing over my shoulder, "And ten pieces of paper to pick."

I don't think I've ever heard Sayer curse before.

I hadn't gotten a block from the police HQ before I felt a shadow pull up alongside me.

"Hello, Renald. I haven't seen you in some time."

"Boss." The wolf's voice was hesitant.

I turned around a moment later to see a fresh scar down the side of the wolf's face. The pelt hadn't even had time to heal over it yet.

"Did you get that from who I think you did?" I asked.

He nodded meekly. "The alpha granted me leniency this time. If you had died, I would have as well."

I sighed. "The alpha is getting out of hand."

He pulled back as I spoke. If anyone but I had said that it would be dangerous ground. Heck, it probably still was.

"So I'm going to assume that you were the one to go tattle to my father when I got thwacked, shall I, Renald?" I began walking again, weaving in and out of people on the street.

"I wouldn't quite call it that, Boss. The alpha assigned me here to do a job. You might have a following, but I'm here to do a job." I could hear the detain in his voice, "Frankly, I find the rest of your so called friends creepy. They might treat you like a descended god, but I'm just here because I have to be."

"Well," I laughed, a real one, "It's probably a good thing. I've got too many people treating me like I'm either made of glass or diamond. A reality check isn't a bad thing."

I noticed that the police around the apartment were a little less obvious now, though there were just as many. The protesters were taking full advantage of that. They still didn't seem to know who I was, yet they were out there with their signs and slogans.

One of these days they were going to begin recognizing me, then they'd become a pain.

Renald disappeared as soon as I stepped through the front door without so much as a 'bye', but he was quickly replaced by Jon.

"Everything go alright with my father?"

"As well as can be expected, Sir. A pack of hunters appeared as soon as we were out of sight of the other police. They were not pleased that I insisted on following, but you father didn't attempt to countermand your order." He paused for a moment, clearing his throat. "And how did your... meeting with Commissioner Sayer go?"

I let myself grin. "We have a bit more breathing room. I still want to get a political party together, but we shouldn't be hearing too much from him for a while."

A full smile grew on the dog's face. "That's wonderful, Sir. You see, you're not so bad at the political part of the job."

I just rolled my eyes as I began climbing the stairs. "Sure. Get's my blood pressure up, causes me to just about have a heart attack, nearly brings the world crashing down, but I'm not so bad at it."

"As long as it's only 'nearly', Sir."

The apartment was empty when I stepped in. The first thing I did was to clear away all the papers that had been piling up.

Gods but it felt good to sweep them off my counter-top and watch them fall into a box. I took the box and unceremoniously dumped it in the hallway next to the one police dog who now stood guard out there. He gave me such a confused expression that I wanted to frame it. Guess he hadn't gotten the memo on the change in priories yet.

Back in the apartment, the place looked positively bare now. It was kind of scary to think that I'd been back for the better part of a month and I'd yet to do anything other than eat, sleep, and give myself writer's cramp.

I poked through the fridge and cupboard. There were still traces of the panther I'd taken this place over from. The most disappointing part of the explorations was the emptiness of the fridge. More surprising was what I found in the closet.

Almost everything in there was from the apartment's former occupant, but there was a single, dark blue vest that hung in the exact centre.

The thing was so new it practicably still had the tag on it. Raising it to my face, I took a sniff.

It smelt of Rebecca.

Now Rebecca isn't exactly... how do I put this diplomatically? Classically feminine. What can you say about a woman who will attack a fully grown tiger with nothing more than a knife, then polish it of by pushing her one and only wolfy off a bridge?

I didn't tend to wear much if any clothing at the best of times, and I'd worn even less since we'd come back from Alberta. The fact she'd buy me anything like this at all was... surprising.

I slipped into the rough blue fabric. This was most certainly not one of Smith's suits. The design was simple and basic, something you could pick up at any corner market or store. It looked almost identical to the vest I'd had a year ago -- that one had been lost somewhere along the way.

Frankly, I didn't care much what it looked or felt like. It smelt of Rebecca, and she'd bought it for me. I'd be happy to wear it.

Well, there wasn't much more for me to do around here. I'd spent far too much time in this building over the last few weeks, and now that I didn't have a mountain of papers to distract me I was quickly going stir crazy.

Out the door, I made my way down the street. The cops tailing me at a respectful distance. I hadn't any idea where Rebecca or Amstys were, and didn't feel like chatting with Jon or Renald. That left one option.

And in any event, I was curious to see just how trashed the Strong Front building was.

Well, I wasn't disappointed. Even from blocks away I could tell it was going to be a mess. The Storm Front headquarters had been located in one of the newest and trendiest districts of the city. The buildings here had seemingly all gone the way of City Hall.

The SF building its self had been hit hard by the riots. Many of its reenforced windows had been smashed out and it looked like there had been a minor civil war on the property.

The greater damage had come from the quake. English must have invested in construction, because the building its self was still standing. Too bad I couldn't say as much for the others around it. At least two other, taller, buildings had come toppling down over the shorter SF structure.

It looked like there were the better part of two hundred people picking though the rubble, trying to get things upright again. Storm Front, for the moment it seemed, was officially camped out in a series of brightly coloured tents on what had formerly been their front lawn.

I only got within a hundred meters of the place before a brown bear in a standard issue red Storm Front blazer stepped in my way.

"Sorry, buddy. Only employees beyond this point. No sightseeing. We handle dangerous criminals. Folks like you need to stay back." He was polite, but the words came out like a recording. I'd bet he'd said it a thousand times today alone.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm just looking for English."

He didn't even bother to look interested. "If you want to meet with a member of the staff you'll need to make an appointment."

Okay. I couldn't help but laugh.

"Listen, friend," I just shook my head as I continued to laugh, "I'm betting they hired you on after the quakes, right?" He didn't say anything, "English is the guy who owns the company. Big, scary looking lion who talks like a stuck up British aristocrat and has a tendency to spontaneously break into bouts of tea drinking. Just tell me if you've seen him."

The bear didn't say a word, but I could tell I'd hit a soft spot with the 'new hire' jab. I was about ready to break into a round of cursing to see if I could force myself by when I saw a familiar spotted grey pelt behind him.

"Graham!"

I had to wave my arms to make myself seen over the bear's bulk, but I don't think that was much of a problem.

The snow leopard leapt a good four feet in the air when I called his name, his fur poofing out to nearly double his size.

"Tommy?"

The leopard turned to face me. It wasn't until then that I realized he'd changed. His left arm was missing.

"Tommy!" He jogged forward to meet me. I had to keep from pulling back. All cats had a way about them when they moved. It was almost a slink, a fluid motion to their bodies. Seeing Graham walk without his arm threw me off in way's I couldn't put words to. His body was still upright and perfectly straight, but his tail hung to one side, off balancing his shift in weight. "It's great to see you again, man!" He pushed the bear out of the way.

"Graham, what happened?" His shoulder still had a massive bandage roped around it, I could see spots of blood.

"Oh, that." His face fell. "It was back during the riots. I... uh, fell in with the wrong crowd and... things didn't go so well." He forced a smile back to his face, "But I came back to Storm Front and they gave me my old job again. It was English who took to me no less!"

The cat had a salesman's smile, but I couldn't help but grin back.

"That's great... I guess. I'm looking for English myself, can you point me his way?"

"Yeah, sure. He's in the big tent over there." He pointed awkwardly with his one hand. "We're going big today. He's started another hiring drive. Not sure what he's up to, he's not looking for hunters this time."

Looking that way, I could see a large yellow tent. There was a line of people leading out of it and stretching down the street.

"What's with the lineup?" I asked.

Graham did an odd half shrug. "Work is easy to find these days if you're a labourer or a builder. Not so much if your an administrator or office type guy. The moment English put out the call for admin type people the line started forming."

I rolled my eyes. "I guess the poof-tailed tom cat really does know what he's doing."

Graham's mouth dropped open when I said that. To the leopard, the lion was still just short of a king. He wasn't used to hearing me talk about him in such terms.

"Uh, sure." Graham began digging around in his pockets. "You better take this or no one will let you in. We've got so many new people on staff that no one recognizes any of us old guard."

He pressed a small square of leather into my hand. It was embrosed with the Storm Front name and logo.

And he was right. Not a minute after we parted ways I was stopped by another guard who demanded my ID. Just getting into the tent was a challenge. I had to prove who I was to five different people before I could even get within sight of English.

The lion was seated at the head of the line, reclining in an oversized easy chair. One by one people trickled forward. They only got to him after they'd passed through a gauntlet of a half dozen others before him who were weeding out the ne'er do wells.

"Next!" His voice boomed.

I slid into line, jumping ahead of the next candidate. I heard a voice shout out behind me, but I was off before he could begin cussing.

English didn't even open his eyes as I stepped up.

"You've made it this far, fella," His voice was slow and disinterested, "You already know we're looking for politicos, smart guys. What'da got?"

I had to hold back a laugh. He still hadn't bothered to look up.

"Well," I pitched my voice into a pup like whine, "I've spent a year sorting paper at KDP, I hope to be a hunter someday, and my parents tell me I'm the specialest person they've ever known."

All he did was snort and recline back on his upholstered thrown. "How did you even get this far? Next!"

I couldn't help but stifle a laugh. "But I'm really good, honest!"

A slight growl worked it's way up the lion's throat. "I said next!"

I stepped forward, flicking a claw gently against his flat nose. His hand shot out to grab me, but he missed as a sneeze wracked his body.

"What in the gods' names..." He finally bothered to open his eyes. "I should have known." He fell back in his chair with an amused huff. "How did you even get in here, Mate? I thought you were booked solid playing with his highness Sayer today?"

I just stepped forward and leaned on the back of his seat. "We cane to an... understanding."

"Great. Now if you can just find a diamond or two among the riff-raff we've got here, we'll be set." He barred his teeth for a split-second, "Do you have any idea how many people I've been through today? Gods, they were lined up out the door almost by the time I was done putting up the signs. We've got the bureaucrats and the managers, the wanna-bes and the hasbeens. Even with all the people I've got filtering out the chaff I can't seem to hit better than one in a hundred."

I grinned. "We're looking for folks to overthrow the government."

He snorted. "You are the government."

I did have to admit that my opinion of the candidates quickly fell to match that of English's. It looked like everyone who had a scrap of sense had already gotten a job elsewhere. All we were left with were the folks who were willing to take any job.

Twenty candidates and twenty bellows of 'next' and I had to stop for a break. English kept right on going, but I needed a snack.

Storm Front really did know what they were doing. They had just about everything you could ever want in their tents. That included freshly hunted meat.

I was back at the lion's side a few moment's later. I couldn't see who he was interviewing now, but his voice sounded familiar.

"I worked as a manager at KDP for five years. I helped managed their human tracking program. Before that I was a mid level adviser to one of the smaller political parties back in Tsu, Japan."

I was just stepping up behind English as he paused for a moment before bellowing, "Next!"

"Wait," I scrambled forward to see a familiar red face. "Max?"

The oni glanced up at me. "Tommy! I thought you were working at Storm Front again, I'm just trying to get rehired."

I didn't even bother turning to English as I grabbed Max's hand and pulled him forward. "You're in."