Untitled: Thibor's first IST adventure by Shayne Dark (Ottawa, Canada) Copyright (C) 2004, by Shayne Dark Author's note: At this time in the campaign, Thibor had not officially joined IST, although he had been working with them on and off for some 25+ years. It was also the first appearance of Simon and Naoko, who became regular NPCs in the campaign. Thursday 09:00 hours. IST New York Headquarters "Lieutenant Colonel Hoyle." Cammy started slightly at the voice and looked up from the excruciatingly dull report that she was reading through. Her administrative assistant, Simon Bitterbuck was standing arrow straight in the doorway, his young features holding a look of concern. "The Ambassador to Costa Vente is on line four and wants to speak to you immediately. He sounds piss*concerned." "Thank you Simon." Cammy waited until her office door was closed before slumping back in her chair. She blew a few strands of straying blonde hair from her eyes. Costa Vente was a recent addition to the United Nations, a small South American country whose primary export appeared to be tiresome, pointless paperwork that was promptly delivered to her in basket every morning at 0830 hours. To say the country was in disarray was an understatement and a fairly blithering one at that. The President was fighting a war on two fronts, guerillas in the northern reaches, who were disappointed that the only people eligible to vote in the previous year's election were El Presidente's family; and the neighboring country of San Miguel De Lobo, whose desperate shortage of bananas or other such nonsense had driven them to deploy several battalions of troops along the southern border of Costa Vente. A slight squawk interrupted her reverie as her phone reminded her that the Ambassador was waiting. "Hello Ambassador." Cammy held the receiver away from her ear as a loud burst of Latin-flavored English exploded out. Taking a deep breath, she focussed her eyes on the sole decoration in her sparse, military office, a picture of her majesty Queen Elizabeth. "Grace and dignity. Grace and dignity." Cammy spoke the mantra under her breath. If her Royal Majesty could deal with the troubles in her family with grace and dignity, then Lieutenant Colonel Cammy Hoyle could jolly well do the same in her own office. She readied a pen to take down the salient points of the ambassador's complaint. "One of our agents is harassing you? I see. No Ambassador, I have not assigned anyone to investigate your residence. A werewolf in a pink convertible? Yes I am familiar with that agent." Cammy wrote the name Thibor on her notepad and circled it. "Well Ambassador, if he merely parked outside your residence, he would not require a warrant or even an official sanction. No, I am quite sure that he has had all his shots and is licensed for the State of New York. I doubt very much that he was marking his territory, and it is rather rude of you to suggest that he was. Yes I will speak to him when he gets in. Thank you Ambassador. Good day." Hanging up the phone. Cammy tapped her pen against the writing pad several times. "Oh this is just champion." She muttered glancing up at the Queen as if to remind Her Majesty that she was now off the phone and allowed the occasional lapse in composure. Although her official duties were described as IST Parahuman Liason Officer, the less official title was Den Mother; which described the job far more accurately. The superhuman agents who reported to her were by their nature, highly individual, and keeping them out of trouble was a task that would test the endless patience of Her Majesty herself. Cammy allowed herself one more sigh before pressing the intercom button on the phone. "Simon," She waited for his response. "Would you be so good as to inform Major Sawchyk that I would like to see him in my office at his convenience." In his own office, Simon quickly flipped through his old fashion rolodex, his long fingers nimbly searching out the appropriate card. He dialed the number with a casual efficiency and waited for the rough voice on the other end. "Thibor. Cammy wants to see you in her office. You better hurry, she sounds concern*pissed." Thursday 0930 hours. "You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain." Thibor sang to himself as he threaded his way through the bustling clerks in the IST building, a cafeteria tray balanced on one hand. His loose military shirt, baggy fatigue pants and relaxed gait stood out in sharp contrast to the starched uniforms and stiff postures that surrounded him. He dodged a pair of secretaries who threatened to upset the tray and nimbly sidestepped a overburdened courier. Sliding into Simon's office he deposited a steaming cup of coffee on the young man's desk. "Two sugars, double cream, was out of doughnuts so you get cherry danish." Thibor dropped a wax paper wrapped confection on the desk. "Thank you Major." Rather than standing at attention, Simon continued to pore over the papers that were piled up on his desk. Thibor's rank was a carry over from his days of UN Service in the Russian conflicts and was considered honorary in the IST. It carried no privilege other that the rather dubious one of being saluted when he bothered showing up in uniform - which had yet to happen. Technically Simon , a lowly lieutenant, outranked him, and could, in the event of emergency, order him into action. Technically, Simon thought to himself, but I sure as hell am not going to be the first junior officer to attempt it. Reaching out a long arm Simon hit the intercom button on his phone. "Major Sawchyk to see you." "Send him in." Responding to the intercom voice, Thibor stepped into Cammy's office, closing the door as he did. There was a moment of silence as their eyes met. Thibor's smile grew wider for seeing her. The young woman was practically dwarfed by her desk. Somehow the military styled IST uniform made her seem smaller, Thibor was used to seeing her in the tight-fitting bodystocking she favored for combat, where every highly defined muscle, and delicious curve was clearly visible. Still, she looked prim, proper, and undeniably cute in the conservatively cut tan uniform jacket and long skirt. It was obvious that she was trying to maintain a stern expression, which only added to the effect. "Lieutenant Colonel." Switching the tray over to his other hand, Thibor clicked the heels of his boots together and offered a quick salute. "Major Sawchyk reporting as ordered." "Oh come off of it." The serious expression vanished as Cammy's features broke into a slightly shy smile. She watched as Thibor placed the tray onto a free space on her desk. Although not a large man, he seemed to take up far more room than he should, as if his much larger alter ego was pushing out of his skin. He was certainly not handsome by any means but there was something undeniably masculine about him, the blunt, craggy features and wolfish grin reminded her strongly of the actor Anthony Quinn. Cammy's smile grew wider as he set about serving the tea, two level scoops of proper brown sugar into her favorite cup - an elegant piece of Victorian china. This was followed by Ceylon tea, still hot enough to steam, and a sweet biscuit placed on the saucer. Just the way she liked it, and almost enough to make her regret the chewing out she was about to give him. Almost. "Thank you." Cammy accepted the tea and blew across the surface before taking a dainty sip. Placing the cup and saucer down on her desk, she decided it was best to deal with the situation directly. Her resolve wavered momentarily as Thibor sipped at his own tea. His mug, chipped and well worn, displayed Snoopy in aviator headgear astride a smoking doghouse, the words "Curse you Red Baron" visible below the rim. "I just had a rather frightful call from the Costa Vente Ambassador." Cammy began, returning to a serious expression. "I don't suppose you know anything about a werewolf in a pink convertible who has been seen loitering around the embassy grounds? One who has certainly not mentioned any ongoing investigations to his liaison officer and by nature of this omission is in direct violation of our operational rules." Thibor's smile grew wider. "Would that be werewolf who managed to get tickets to Lion King show for Friday night?" Thibor watched as Cammy once again struggled to keep a straight face. "And is already making reservation for dinner at Trattoria Tosca." "I don't suppose threatening you with a rolled up newspaper would do any good would it?" The smile was back. "What the devil have you been up to." "Is long story." Thibor drank down the last of his tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Was going over recent arms purchase from Costa Vente." Cammy nodded once, knowing that in the absence of immediate crisis, Thibor spent much of his time monitoring the movement of munitions worldwide. "Is just over 300 tons of weapons, ammunition and explosives. Was sent on ship Mighty Poseidon Tuesday of last week." "The Poseidon went down three days later with only two survivors" Cammy interrupted, remembering a report that had recently made the long, arduous journey across her desk. "According to the official report something was set off in the hold and the entire cargo went off like a bally firecracker. The Ambassador claimed it was the guerilla forces who planted a bomb." "Is not likely." Thibor lifted a manila envelope off of the tea tray and brought out two photographs and a detailed cargo manifest. Is picture of Poseidon before loading, and one of pulling out of harbor." Cammy studied the photographs for a moment, comparing them to the figures shown on the manifest. Her blue eyes widened slightly, darting between the two photographs. "It's riding too high in the water." She announced. "Is about 200 tons too high." Thibor nodded. "Not all weapons on board. Is likely that whoever arranged theft was one who blew up ship to cover tracks. Am betting someone on crew was bribed to forge shipping papers, and was paid with great big bang." "Someone in the embassy then." Cammy frowned. "It would certainly explain why the Ambassador was having kittens at your sniffing around." "Was more listening then sniffing." Thibor admitted. "But is not adding to what we know. Ambassador and aides is sounding angry, not sneaky. He is probably not dog person, is suspicious but does not mean he is involved." "So what we have is persons unknown at this time who have secured approximately 200 tons of state-of-the-art military hardware and have moved it to a location also unknown to us at the time." Cammy blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Is getting better." Thibor reached over the desk to refill her teacup. "I spoke to shipper at arms supplier Nerrex before coming here. Is sending name of truck company that made delivery to docks. Is seeing if connections is made." "Capital." Cammy made a note on her pad. "If you can get the name to Simon he can run it up the flagpole and see if anything comes up." She drained her teacup. "Is good kid, very clever. Is serving with him in Chechnya last year." Thibor rose to his feet and collected the tea things. "Still wanting to go out Friday?" "Rather." Cammy flushed slightly, remembering their last abortive attempt at a date. It had resulted in an utter cock-up culminating in Halo's disappearance and the complete destruction of a traveling Italian circus. "How on earth did you get the tickets? Last I heard you couldn't lay hands on them for love or money." "Friend who is assistant dresser on play." Thibor admitted. "Is having lady-friend in from Romania next week, and is wanting to borrow car to show her the town." Cammy kept her look of surprise in check. Thibor's fully restored Plymouth Fury was his pride and joy. "Will be seeing you on Friday." "Champion." Cammy smiled as Thibor left her office. "Oh, one more thing. Did you*mark the Ambassador's residence?" "No." As Thibor turned back, Cammy could definitely see a hint of wolf in his eyes. "Should I have?" Friday 1756 Hours Parkton Heights Condominiums, Manhattan Cammy glanced up at the clock for the eighth time. It still showed 5:56pm just as it had on the previous seven examinations. He had four minutes. Three minutes she amended as the clock clicked over to 5:57. Getting up from the settee, she stepped into the bathroom to check her makeup for the sixth time. Her lipstick was adequate, and the slight dusting of eye shadow only highlighted the color of her eyes. She frowned slightly at the scar that ran across her cheek. "This is neither the time or the place." She reminded herself, feeling a rush of anger. The scar represented things that she did not particularly want to remember, especially now. The thought of somehow concealing it through cosmetics crossed her mind briefly, causing an embarrassed blush. When she first joined IST, she had tried to hide it. Inexperience with cosmetics had caused her to layer on the makeup as if it were camouflage paint. The result had been horrible, but she hadn't fully realized it until she overheard Captain O'Neil jokingly refer to her as Cammy Faye Bakker. She had left the room immediately to try to wash all traces of makeup, and shame from her face, leaving it a glowing pink, which could not be completely attributed to the scrubbing. Never again. She smiled slightly, Captain O'Neal, the thoughtless, shiftless, pillock that he was, had remained mired in his position, whereas she now held a rank far higher, and regularly volunteered him as a uke for the advanced unarmed combat classes. With a click the clock moved one minute closer to 1800 hours. Cammy forced herself to return to the settee in the foyer. She absently smoothed her evening dress. She had bought it almost a year ago, and had not found the occasion to wear it yet. A smooth, satiny, black, it was cut primly in the front, but much lower in the back, showing off her powerful shoulders to good advantage. She had accented it with an onyx cameo, held tight against her throat by a lavender ribbon. Rather than unbraid her hair, a rather arduous process, she had arranged the long braids in a complex bundle, held together with a small silver clip. She hoped he would like it. A knock shattered her reverie, bringing her to her feet instantly. "Is big bad wolf." Thibor announced through the door. "Is going to make me huff and puff?" "Just a tic." Cammy made a fast dash back to the bedroom mirror checking her hair and makeup a final time, she returned to the foyer, her high heels almost skidding on the hardwood. "Hi." She opened the door. Thibor was leaning against the doorframe. His outfit looked archaic, long black pants, the cuffs decorated with subtle beadwork, a loose white shirt, held closed at the collar by an ivory pin. His jacket was midnight black with subtle embroidery on the collar and cuffs. A deep crimson sash was tied around his waist in lieu of a belt, and tooled leather boots completed the outfit. On anyone else it would have looked silly, but somehow it worked for him, as if he were some slavic noble coming to call and had just happened to get the address right, but the century wrong. "Wow." Thibor's eyes widened at seeing her. "Hey little red riding hood, is everything a big bad wolf could want." "Why grandmother what big intentions you have." Cammy blushed furiously at her own response. There was a long moment of silence, which Thibor broke by clearing his throat. He brought a carefully wrapped package out from behind his back and handed it to her. "Is little something to make up for last time." "You really shouldn't have. As I remember you were the one in the hospital." Cammy unwrapped the package carefully, setting the paper aside. Inside was a small, elaborately carved wooden box. As she opened it, a thin melody sounded, beautiful but slightly sad at the same time. "Is old gypsy song." Thibor explained. "Hard to translate" He sang a few words in his native Romani. "In English is 'So long as you both live, happiness is the absence of pain." "It's lovely." Cammy placed the box down on the small table next to her settee, closing the lid with some reluctance, her eyes bright. "I'm not sure what to say." "You say Thibor, I am most terrible hungry, and ready to visit Tosca where Gianni has been simmering his world famous three cheese sauce since first light this morning." His smile and good humor were infectious, and she gratefully took his offered arm. Friday 2000 hours. IST New York Headquarters "Nothing." Simon resisted the urge to throw the keyboard across the room. Trans-Atlantic Secure Shipping employed well over 1,200 trucks and nearly three times as many drivers. He entered another query and watched as a completely different set of names flashed across his screen. "Nothing." He absentmindedly grabbed at his coffee mug and took a sip. The beverage was stone cold and the urge to spit the foul liquid at the monitor was nearly overwhelming. "How goes it chief?" Simon looked up as Records Clerk Naoko Yoshida leaned over his shoulder. The petite Japanese woman deposited a fresh cup of coffee on his desk. "I was just getting ready to leave and I saw your light was still on." "Frustrating." Simon tossed one of his long braids back over his shoulder. "There's got to be a pattern here, but I'm just not seeing it." "Criminal records?" She reached over his shoulder and hit a couple of keys. "First thing I checked." Simon tried to ignore the way her body brushed up against his as she leaned over. "Pretty standard stuff. Some juvenile records and a couple of short terms, B&E, some minor robberies, improper firearms registration and vehicle theft. Exactly 12% higher than the average for criminal records in a shipping organization, but that's not high enough to be immediately suspicious." His brow furrowed slightly. "Hold on." Simon's fingers hit a series of keys and a list of jail records began scrolling up the screen. "That's not a coincidence." He pointed to a rap sheet as it rolled past. "Distinguishing features - upper right arm - tattoo - eagle clutching knife and baton." Another flurry of keystrokes brought up a list of five men, all of whom had similar tattoos. "You are heap big clever chief." Naoko teased, she leaned over and tapped in another query. "All of them were employed by Trans-Atlantic Secure on the Nerrex arms transfer." "And all of them with consecutive social security numbers, a simple search on those alone wouldn't key into their criminal records." Simon started as Naoko's query was returned. He opened another window and entered another search. "Bingo! We have it. One of the survivors of the Mighty Poseidon, second degree burns on chest and upper arm, crossing eagle tattoo." "He figured he'd get clear, but it was a bigger bang than he had planned." Naoko pulled up a chair and fired up Simon's second terminal. She helped herself to a swallow of his coffee. "Not as big as what they have coming." Simon took the cup from her and drank deeply, wincing at the heat. "Trans-Atlantic uses electronic payment for their fuel - let's see if these bozo's are as smart as they think they are." He attacked his keyboard with the perfectly timed precision of a concert pianist. "I'm into the ATF database." Naoko turned back towards him. "I'll see what they have on that tattoo. Militia is my bet, or possibly it is some third world loony's personal army." "Whoever put this plan together is very smart." Simon admitted. "But his lackeys aren't too heavy in the brains department. I have three purchases made from a Kinnet County station in the last week, that's too far out of the way to be on their normal routes." "Upstate New York." As Naoko nodded her expression became fierce. "I have a match, but they aren't letting me access it. Kso!" She banged a small fist against the keyboard. "Want to switch places?" Simon offered. "I'm running through the archives of two of the local papers, looking for something." "No way chief." There was a hint of steel in the young Japanese woman's voice. "I'm going to blow a Tokyo sized hole in their security. We were supposed to have access to that data months ago." "Oooooh!! Gojira!!" Simon widened his eyes, pointing at her. "Shut up and scalp that database." Naoko continued to pound the keyboard for several minutes. "I'm through! The record's coming up." "I've got something too." Simon read quickly, his eyes darting over the screen. Just outside Calumet, some yahoos are complaining that some new landowners aren't letting them hunt on their land, saying it will interfere with their training grounds.'" He modified his query. "Same season, two hunters were found shot to death in that same area - the sheriff ruled it accidental." "Kso! Simon you better look at this." Naoko pushed her chair away from the terminal allowing the young officer to see the screen. "Rolento VanOwen." Simon scanned through the record. "Mercenary of South African origin born in 1898, willing participant in the German ubersoldat program during the Second World War, which would explain his longevity, served under Rommel, since then he's worked under Amin, Duvalier, Pot, Mueller and Shadowlaw. Highly trained strategist, unmatched jungle fighter, and certified fruit-loop. Rumored to be building a private army. Current whereabouts unknown." "Current whereabouts, just outside Calumet, New York, with 200 tons of stolen arms." Naoko supplied. She glanced at the phone. "Do we unleash the dogs of war?" "They've been looking forward to this date all week." Simon flinched slightly. "But Thibor said to call the moment I found something." "Is that safe?" Naoko asked a hint of concern in his voice. "Probably not." Shaking his head, Simon reached for the phone. "I'll call Lieutenant Colonel Hoyle. She can tell him." 2015 hours Friday night. Trattoria Tosca, Manhattan New York Thibor split the last of the wine between their glasses and casually hurled the empty bottle into the roaring fireplace. As it shattered, joining the remains of other bottles and glasses that lay on the hearth, a wild whoop of celebration echoed through the dining room. Rather than the posh restaurant that Cammy was expecting, the Trattoria Tosca was a small, intimate venue, set well away from the bustling high street of the Italian community. Although the front looked like it belonged on a run- down Liverpool chippie, the inside was quaint, and quite lovely, as if a small piece of Italy had found its way to New York. The floors were wooden, and slightly uneven, but the tables were blocked properly, and covered in the traditional red and white checkered cloths. Lighting was provided by small, covered candles on the tables and the roaring fire that burned brightly in an open fireplace. There were perhaps twelve round, tables total, each could seat two comfortably, or four with some crowding. There was quite a bit of crowding, but it was private at the same time, as if the other patrons recognized that they did not want to be disturbed. "Not another bite, I'm quite full up." Cammy pushed her plate away slightly. Gianni's perfectly prepared noodles, plump, savory ravioli and three-cheese sauce were certainly a bit of alright, but enough was enough. "Is too bad." Thibor mopped up the last bit of sauce on his plate with a bit of crusty bread. "Is tiramisu still coming." He swallowed the bread and chased it down with the last of his wine. Cammy rolled her wine glass between her palms and took a small sip. "How did you ever find this place?" "World cup football." He explained. "Was four blocks away watching the game and could smell the sauce." "As a wolf?" Cammy seemed a little taken aback. "You were watching the World Cup as a wolf?" "Was cheering for Bulgaria." Thibor shrugged. "Much safer that way." Cammy laughed, hiding her mouth with a hand. "Should not be doing that." Thibor leaned closer. "You have wonderful laugh, is shame to hide it." He took her hand, drawing it away from her mouth. "Thibor*I" Cammy leaned towards him, her head tilting up. "RIIIINNG!" Even concealed in her handbag, the ring of her portable phone was enough to disrupt the moment. Her features flushed, Cammy retrieved the hateful device and flipped it open. "Cammy here. Yes Simon. Rolento VanOwen? Oh my word." She brought a pen and small pad out her purse and quickly jotted down details. "Is telling him his timing needs works." "Hush." Cammy waved him to silence, concentrating on the phone. "I want you to put Raven, Peter and Sil on alert, get my duffel and meet us here in." She checked her watch. "Fifteen minutes." She turned to Thibor. "Should he bring anything else?" "Yes." Thibor growled loudly enough to be picked up by the phone. "A date. Is not letting tickets go to waste. I have my gear in trunk." As Cammy excused herself walking in the direction of the washroom, Thibor motioned Gianni over, draping an arm over the swarthy Italian's shoulder and tucking several bills into his pocket. "Is getting the dessert to go, is going to have to be fast." He said. "I hope everything is going well." Gianni paused as Cammy reappeared, her dress hanging over one arm. "Is just got better." Thibor sent his Italian friend on his way with a quick push. He knew that the material of her fighting togs was thin, but how she managed to fit, a notepad, pens, pencils, handkerchiefs, phone and bodystocking into a small handbag was a mystery. How she got into the apparently seamless, zipperless, garment was another mystery, but now was not the time to delve into it. "Get a wiggle on slowpoke." Cammy motioned to the door. "They'll be here soon." Friday 2016 Hours IST New York Headquarters "That sounded pretty painless." Naoko observed as Simon put down the phone. "Yes." Simon smiled, his dark eyes sparkling. "Are you doing anything tonight? I just got my hands on two tickets to the Lion King." "Well." She smiled coquettishly, "I was planning to wash my hair tonight, but I guess I could go if you want." "I was hoping for someone with clean hair, but I guess you'll do." He shrugged. "Hakuna Mattata." "I'll Hakuna Mattata you!" Laughing Naoko made to chase him. Simon remembered to snag Cammy's duffel as he ran from the room, his date in pursuit. Friday 2028 Hours Trattoria Tosca, Manhattan, New York "You'll have the helicopter fuelled and ready to leave at moment's notice." Cammy had the phone pressed to her ear as she leaned back against the side of Thibor's car. "No, I don't expect that Raven will want a pilot. You may wish to rethink that Captain O'Neil, forcing one on her might not be in your best interests." A passing car slowed down and several appreciative whistles could be heard from the occupants. Cammy considered flipping them off, but remembered that they were American and she hadn't found reason to pick up the equivalent North American gesture. "I recognize that we have not filed a flight plan, but the situation is considerably more urgent than satisfying the Air Traffic Control Board." She stopped as Thibor bustled by, a set of bundled fatigues under his arm. She covered the receiver with her hand. "Where are you going?" "Telephone booth." Thibor flipped a thumb at a glistening glass booth that reflected the amber glow of the streetlights. "Am superhero. Am in New York. Is proper thing to be doing, yes?" "Capital idea." Cammy returned her attention to the phone. "I've set the panic switch to 23-beta-7 if you pick up a signal on that channel, I want the cavalry in the air before you can say Bob's your uncle, we're only going to have one go at this. Make sure that*Oh my." Cammy turned around quickly a blush rising in her cheeks. The squawk of O'Neil's voice brought her attention back to the phone. "What was that Captain, I missed that last bit." "I asked if you were sure you could rely on your doggie friend." There was a note of petulance in O'Neil's voice. "Is it a full moon tonight?" "Yes." The blush returned to her face. "Yes it is. I will certainly pass on your concerns to the Major. Remember 23-beta- 7. Cammy out." She hung up the phone and tossed it onto the wide front seat of the Fury. The blare of a horn drew her eyes down the street, Simon's run-down, open top jeep was tearing through traffic, a blue-white light flashing on the dash. The young man pulled up next to the Plymouth and stood up in the driver's seat, saluting quickly. Hefting Cammy's duffel like a shot-put he heaved it into the back seat of Thibor's car. "Twelve minutes." Cammy consulted her watch. "No bad at all Lieutenant. How did you make the connection to VanOwen?" "It was the wind." Simon flipped one of his long braids back off his shoulder and made a wide gesture with his arm. "Like my Mohawk ancestors, I listened to the wind and it told me that OUCH!" He staggered slightly as if someone had driven a small, hard fist into back of his knee. "It told you ouch." Cammy repeated gravely. "Wind works down in records." Thibor jogged up and tossed his dinner clothes into the trunk of his car, slamming the lid shut. He passed the young man a pair of tickets. "Major." Simon threw a quick salute, unsure if Thibor considered fatigue pants and an army issue woolen sweater to be proper uniform. "Is having good time tonight." Thibor growled. "Is order." "Here." Cammy pressed the Styrofoam box containing the tiramisu into Simon's hand. "You probably haven't eaten a proper dinner have you?" "Not as yet." The package was wrested from Simon's hand and a delighted squeal could be heard from inside the jeep. "I took the liberty of loading tactical data, co-ordinates and topographical layouts onto your GP unit. Good hunting Lieutenant Colonel Hoyle." He dropped back into the drivers seat and the jeep sped away. "Is ready." Thibor slipped into the driver's seat and turned the engine over. The Plymouth let out the low roar of an impatient beast. "Is 200 miles to Chicago, we have a full tank of gas, half a pack of smokes and we're wearing dark glasses." For once Cammy knew the reference immediately. Reaching into her duffel, she brought out a bright red beret, which she pulled down over her hair. "Hit it!" Friday 2029 Hours. Operations Room, IST New York Headquarters Glancing at the receiver, Captain O'Neil frowned slightly. Glancing around the bustling control room quickly, he leaned forward and adjusted the channel to 24-beta-7. Friday 2245 Hours. Calumet, New York The lights of Manhattan were long behind them. It was hard to believe that such wild country existed so close to the greatest city in America. Thibor reduced speed as the Fury bounced over the rough gravel road. Beside him Cammy's features were lit by the slight, blue glow of her GP Datapad. "Mission checklist." Cammy turned off the datapad. They had gone over the plan several times, but repetition would further reduce the chance of errors on their part. "Primary objectives." Thibor smiled. "One. Locate the enemy and observe numbers, organization and armaments. Two. Secure and mark DMZ for IST re-enforcement. Three. Serve international warrant against Rolento VanOwen, if resists, secure using necessary means. "Secondary objectives." Cammy continued. "Locate armaments and secure. If unable to do so, render non-functional. Opposition?" "Unknown number of men. Expect automatic weapon's fire up to and including .40 caliber machine gun. HEAP grenades. Light anti- tank weapons. Expect fortified positions and multiple security perimeters. Local vegetation is medium and old growth deciduous, excellent small arms cover, explosions will bring risk of shrapnel. Add one more." Thibor nodded in the direction of the rearview mirror. "Mollify local law enforcement. "Bother." Cammy could see the revolving lights of a Sheriff's cruiser grow ever closer in the mirror. "Pull over and stay sharp. I wouldn't be too eager to trust them entirely." "Is hunting deaths suspicious." Thibor blinked hard. When he opened his eyes, they were the inhuman, blazing yellow of his wolfen form. He pulled over and retrieved his license and registration from the sun visor. "Is two getting out of car and one in back seat. Back door is unlocked and open." "I very much doubt that Calumet gets three bobbies worth of busy on a Friday night." Cammy observed dryly. "Where were you going in such a hurry?" The sheriff was strongly built, with dark hair and hard, suspicious eyes. Cammy could see his name, Bradshaw, on a tag above his pocket. He moved around the passenger side, while his deputy stayed back at the rear, drivers side corner of the car, a shotgun dangling loosely from his hands. "Lieutenant Colonel Cammy Hoyle. IST." Cammy presented her credentials. "Well Miss Hoyle." The sheriff tossed her badge and ID card back with a contemptuous flick of his wrist. "What brings you and your friend down Calumet way?" "I am not free to discuss that at this time." Her blue eyes narrowing. "If you wish we can put you in contact with our headquarters." "This isn't your jurisdiction Miss." The Sheriff snorted. "And whatever it is you are doing, it still doesn't mean you New York types can come driving around in your dance-skins at 11:00 in the evening, with a broken tail-light." As if on cue the deputy raised the shotgun and brought the heavy wooden butt down on one of the Fury's rear lights. "Really Sheriff Bradshaw." Cammy's english accent became stiff. "I see no reason for you to be rude to us in this matter." "Is very good reason." Thibor smiled, displaying slightly elongate incisors. "Is working with VanOwen." "So much for jurisdictional co-operation then." "Don't either of you move." Taking a step back from the window, the Sheriff fumbled for his gun. It didn't do him any good as Cammy leapt free of the car and drove a hard kick into his flat abdomen. "Aww hell." The deputy brought the shotgun up to his shoulder and fired. The shot passed neatly over Cammy who had bolted around the car and dived to the ground, tucking into a tight ball while rolling forward. She came up fast, driving two hard punches into the deputy's jaw. He went down immediately, his eyes rolling back in his head as he lost consciousness. "I have third." Thibor walked towards the police car, wincing slightly he passed the ruined taillight on his car. Cammy smiled, this would be a show worth watching. A ripple passed through Thibor's flesh as his chest swelled, fur sprouting from it. The thick slavic features grew long and narrow, becoming the face of a wolf. The sweater tore and fell away, revealing huge, bulging muscles that shifted like volkswagons parking under the thick coat of iron gray fur. The loose camouflage pants became tight and a full, brush-like tail burst from the seat, waving back and forth. For a moment Cammy wondered if it was as soft as it looked. Rather than wait for the third man to exit from the car, Thibor picked the whole vehicle up and shook it violently, as a terrier might shake a rat. With a scream the last man fell hard to the gravel. As he tried to crab walk away, Thibor stomped hard on his head, knocking him senseless. "Now sheriff." Cammy stepped over to where the man was gasping in an attempt to regain the breath she had kicked from his lungs. "What would you know about a Rolento VanOwen?" "Sleeeeve." Thibor's voice rolled out of long wolfen jaws. He walked over, balancing the car on his hand like he had balanced the tray earlier. Nodding, Cammy tore the sheriff's sleeve away, revealing an elaborate eagle tattoo. "Tattoo is cooler than skin against it." "Bite me you Brit bitch." The Sheriff spat out defiantly. "No. If it is all the same to you, I'd rather not." Cammy sniffed slightly. "What I would like is for you to keep a civil tongue in your head and tell me the whereabouts of Mr. VanOwen." "I'll shove my civil tongue into your stiff British a.." "Is maybe visual aid be better. He can point on map." Thibor interrupted. "Is please getting map." "Right. I'll leave you two alone them." Cammy turned back to the Plymouth. There was a dull creak as Thibor put the sheriff's cruiser down. "I'll see to the other two." "Is okay, I will help you." Thibor followed her. "What did you so with the Sheriff?" She glanced over to where a pair of legs were kicking from under the roof of the inverted cruiser. "Oh that really isn't acceptable at all. That vehicle is municipal property and damaging it is just not cricket." "Sorry." Thibor lifted the car off the sheriff and placed it back on its tires. "Now Sheriff." Cammy returned unfolding a map of the surrounding territory. "If you can control that foul sewer you call a mouth, I would like to know the location of Mr. VanOwen." "He'll kill me if I talk." The defiance had left the sheriff's voice. "Looks like we've got an eater here." Thibor leaned forward. A long string of saliva dripped down from his incisors. "Oh for heaven's sake Thibor." Cammy turned away so the Sheriff couldn't see her try to keep from laughing. "Remember what happened last time you did that." "Wasn't that much paperwork." "It took almost a month." "You think it would only be two weeks if just eat leg?" "The whole leg? That's more like three weeks." "You want some?" "Do I look like I served in the Navy?" "Would it be better to dig grave and throw up in it afterwards?" "Look, Miss Hoyle, was it." The sheriff gibbered. The line of saliva dripped from Thibor's jaw and landed on the bridge of the cringing man's nose. "About two miles back from her you'll see a stand of pines, there's a path concealed behind them that leads up to a bunker. It's about seven miles in from there. He's there. Oh and if it's not too much trouble, I really would appreciate it if you would convince your friend not to eat me." "Thank you so very much." Cammy nodded. "I'll certainly take it under consideration." "Not at all." Bradshaw's face was white. "God save the Queen, pip-pip and everything." "Goodnight Sheriff." Cammy walloped him on the point of his jaw, knocking him unconscious. She turned to Thibor. "Is that what they call good cop/bad cop in America?" "Is called Monty Python festival on Bravo last week." Thibor smiled. "Or maybe is something of beauty and the beast." "Well then." Cammy finished securing the three men with plastic restraints. "It is off to the ball are we?" Friday 2330: Woods outside Calumet, New York "Another one." Thibor's nostrils flared. He pointed to a camouflaged claymore mine that was careful hidden against an outcropping of rock. Cammy slid up from behind him, pulling a pair of wire-cutters from her small pack, she quickly disabled the device. "Well, I'll say this much for Rolento." Cammy said, following a trip wire to a second cluster of mines. "He's thorough." "He's also close." There was a twitch in Thibor's ears. "Is big air circulation unit, smell of gasoline. Maybe 400 meters." "Capital." Cammy handed her pack to Thibor and adjusted her heavy gauntlets. They moved quickly through the forest until a circle of light became visible through the trees. A twelve-foot fence rose in front of them, the top ringed with strands of razor wire, a second, higher fence was visible just beyond, equally decorated. Squat and ugly, two clapboard barracks stood on either side of a descending concrete staircase. A pair of men in combat fatigues stood at either side of the stairs. "Doggies." Thibor noted, sniffing the air. "Great big doggies. Dogos Argentinos." He let loose a low bark, which was immediately answered by the padding of feet. "Friends of yours?" Cammy took a half-step backwards. Thibor was crouching in front of a trio huge, heavyset white dogs, all four were growling in a low, dangerous timber. It was a tense moment, but finally the three dogs whimpered slightly and rolled over onto their backs, offering their bellies. "Now reach over slowly and scratch me behind ears." Thibor said in a low voice. "And this establishes me in the pack?" Cammy's fingers dug into the rough, gray fur. "No, I have itch." Thibor grinned wolfishly. "Then get a flea collar." Cammy cuffed him in the back of his head. "Are your new friends going to give us any trouble?" "No. Is going to be good boys." Thibor gestured and the dogs got back to their feet. "Is giving distraction at other side of camp. Will be making most terrible racket." "Oh how very good of them." Cammy smiled, "Do they know how many men are in the camp?" "Is about thirty-five." Thibor noted. "Is having assembly each morning to do exercises, dogs is finding this funny." He growled, sending the three dogs scampering off with wide grins stretching across their wide muzzles. "Thirty-five men." Cammy checked her gloves and straightened her beret. "The dogs start barking, the guards check it out, we're down those stairs into the bunker." She looked at Thibor. "Blimey you're big." Cammy knew that with her smaller stature and speed she could make it unseen with little or no difficulty, but she was five feet, four inches and barely a 100 pounds, whereas Thibor was well over seven feet and easily over 300 pounds, perhaps more. He wouldn't be the quietest of church mice when it came time to sneak about. Perhaps the dogs will be enough of a distraction, she thought to herself. "There is something." Thibor sniffed the air. "Wind is shifting, cannot say for sure." The low, rough barking of the dog began at the far side of the camp. As the guards moved away, Thibor and Cammy leapt over the fence, easily clearing the razor wire. As they hit the ground running there was a cloud cracking noise and bright white light filled the camp. "Bloody hell." Cammy stopped short, shielding her eyes from the glare. Thibor let out a short yipe as the bright lights seared his eyes. Both could hear the ratcheting click of weapons being cocked, some of them quite heavy. "Well, well." The voice was somewhat slurred and flavored with a heavy Afrikaans accent. "This is the klein skattebol that defeated our comrades in arms. She is a pretty little rooinek, but she, and her unusual pet should have been no match for a real soldier, Bradshaw was a domkop and careless." A tall man stepped up the stairs. His uniform was immaculate, the tan fatigues set off with braid and a bandoleer of grenades. Where his clothes were perfect, his features were a nightmare, crawling with old scars. As he turned Cammy and Thibor could see the source of the slur, an old wound stretched across one cheek, improperly healed so that a flash of the man's white teeth could be seen through it. "Rolento VanOwen." Cammy slowly brought one of her gloves up in front of her face, triggering the panic switch, a very muffled chime alerting her to the transmission of the signal. "You are under arrest by order of the IST. Please lie down on the ground with your arms stretched out above your head." "You rooineks are all the same." As Rolento smiled the gap in his cheek widened. "You are confident without reason to be so. You tipped your hand when you assaulted Bradshaw, and from that moment on I knew your every move. Do you think me such a fool that I would allow you here if I did not see the strategic advantage in it?" "I think you are right off your lorry." Cammy announced. "What is rooinek?" Thibor asked, blinking away the spots that still danced in front of his eyes. "A derogatory term for a British soldier." Cammy explained. "Popular among the Boer people of South Africa prior to the Second World War." "And klein skattebol?" The spots in front of his eyes were clear and Thibor could see a good thirty men surrounding them, weapons at the ready, the remains of three magnesium flares sputtered and died around them. "It means small ball of fluff, it is a term of endearment." Cammy scowled. "That is sort of cute." Thibor nodded. "Is not too bad, but is going to have to kick his ass for rooinek comment. By the way, is great strategy you are making." "Well you were the one who couldn't smell thirty men surrounding us." There was an edge to Cammy's voice. "I didn't hear any suggestions from you." "Wind was in wrong direction." Thibor shrugged. "You manky git." Cammy turned towards Thibor. "This is important and you've cocked the whole thing up." She made to slap him but was brought up short as he grabbed her arm and yanked her close to his chest, growling. "It is so nice to see that two countries can get along so beautifully. It is such conflicts that have kept me such a busy man all these years." Rolento threw his head back and laughed, the rich sound rendered horrible by the gap in his cheek. "Can you take him?" Thibor whispered. "That turtle?" Cammy smiled confidently. "He looks more of a codger than a dodger." "Get him into that bunker and out of line of fire." Thibor released her arm. "I am taking care of others." "Watch your tail." Seized by a sudden impulse she leaned up and kissed the furry cheek. "Wait to see what is planned for third date." Thibor leaned back his head and howled into the sky, as he did, Cammy shot forward in a blur. "Cannon spike!" Rolento barely had time to stop laughing before Cammy barreled into him, her heel smashing into his ribs. He teetered and then tumbled down the bunker stairs, the British agent in hot pursuit. "Let's rock and roll." Thibor barely flinched as the first bursts of automatic weapons fire flattened against his broad chest. Friday 2335 Hours: Broadway, New York "I didn't think you had to follow his orders." Naoko gasped slightly as Simon gently bit at her neck. She pressed closer to the young officer, deftly avoiding the gearshift that separated the front seats of the jeep. "Who says I am." Simon whispered into her ear, kissing the lobe. "He said have a good time, and I for one want us to have a great time." "Sounds good." Naoko slid a hand down his chest and then paused. "What's that moving?" "My pager." Simon was clearly put out by the interruption. He brought the device up and checked the small display. "It says that Cammy's emergency signal has been sent." "So." Naoko slumped back in her seat. "It only rings on my number if it isn't acknowledged on the main system. It's a little redundancy I worked out in case there is an equipment failure." Simon paled. "She's called for backup and the alert center doesn't know it." He dived for the cell phone strapped to the dashboard and hit the first pre-programmed number. "Alert one-seven-one." Simon repeated the number again. "We have alert signal confirmation. What do you mean no alert has been given O'Neil. I just gave it to you. No I am not on the strike force, but the Lieutenant Colonel said that..." The phone dropped from Simon's hand. "What is it?" Naoko could see the rage on the young officer's features. "That asshole O'Neil." Simon fired up the motor and plugged his portable siren into the cigarette lighter. "He says I'm not on the assault team, and therefore I can't authorize the backup team deployment." He swung out into traffic and smashed the accelerator to the floor. "I may not be on the assault team, but I know some people who are. We have to get back to headquarters." Friday 2340 Hours Ground above Rolento's Bunker. "Holy mother of.." The epithet remained unfinished as Thibor grabbed the soldier by his face and slammed him hard into the ground. He turned as another man unloaded a full clip of bullets into his back. The slugs stung like hornets but were not able to penetrate the thick fur and muscles. Thibor dropped to his front paws and kicked backwards like a mule. The impact sent the man flying; there was a crash as he passed completely through one of the wooden barracks. "Surrender." Fully half of the men were on the ground. Most bore the marks of a beating at his hands, but some were obviously the victims of friendly fire. "Don't make it any Arrrgggh!" Thibor heard the whoosh of the rocket at the same time that he felt it impact on his shoulder. The explosion threw him to the ground as hot shrapnel carved bloody paths in his flesh. A second rocket caught him in the side as he lay prone. "He don't like that none." There was a laugh as Thibor tried to regain his feet. Three more rockets exploded around him. The pain was intense, but he forced himself to lay still. One of the soldiers approached and kicked him in the side. "Guess this is what they mean by putting out the dog." He raised a rocket tube to his shoulder and stepped back. "Say goodbye to his head." "Say goodbye to balls." Thibor was back on his feet and moving as the rocket fired. He leapt twenty feet into the air, the weapon passing harmlessly under him. Turning over in the air, he came down hard on the man who had fired, breaking both of the soldier's collarbones. Grabbing the screaming man he hurled him bodily into a cluster of approaching men, who went down like tenpins. Friday 2341 Hours Rolento's Bunker. Rolento let out a low grunt as Cammy rolled off of him. He was on his feet as fast as she was. "So the skattebol thinks she's a soldier." He brought a long wooden baton out from his back and whirled it through the air. "Are you ready for your defeat." "Oh do shut up." Cammy ducked under the attack and drove a powerful punch into Rolento's face, following it up with a sweeping kick that took his feet out from under him. The wide, concrete stairs they had fallen down had opened up into a huge chamber, which contained a veritable treasure trove of military hardware, much of it still crated. As Rolento fell back, she leapt up in the air, intent on driving a knee into his chest. His stick lashed out like a serpent, knocking her out of the air. Rather than press the advantage, Rolento rolled to his feet and ran towards a steel door set into the wall opposite the stairs. She ran after him, but the rotter was quite spry for an old man, and beat her to the door. Cammy paused at the doorframe, listening intently. She could hear the dull rattle of heavy chains. "Come on, through the door." Cammy urged herself. "Let's do it for her majesty." She dove into the next room, rolling fast across the floor and coming to her feet. The room was obviously the playground of a nut. Hundreds of chains dangled from the ceiling, each ending in a wicked looking steel hook. Some of the chains had round iron platforms dangling from them. "Welcome to my theatre of operations Rooinek." Cammy looked up. Rolento was standing on one of the platforms, swinging slowly back and forth. He nimbly leapt to another chain and swung around to face her. "There is a joy to armies dying on the battlefield, but it is only here that soldiers may fight as true equals. Do you dare match your pitiful IST training against two lifetimes of military experience." "Oh do shut up." Cammy leapt for one of the chains and pulled herself up to his level. "You are getting right up my spout." "I hope you are amusing." Rolento pushed off the chain and dove towards her. Cammy knocked his baton aside with the heavy cuff of her gauntlet. Her return stroke missed by several inches as Rolento swung about. She leapt for another perch. As her hand touched the chain the heavy metal retracted into the ceiling with incredible speed. The trailing hook caught her across the back, tearing through the skin and muscle. "Bloody hell." Cammy hit the ground and rolled to her feet. "You assumed skattebol." Rolento laughed as he dangled above her. "It is on those assumptions that battles are lost." He crossed to another chain. "Assume this." Cammy leapt into the air grabbing another chain and swinging up. She quickly crossed the room in pursuit of Rolento, who swung through the iron vines like a monkey. "Oh." She missed a grab and landed hard on the ground. "You are no soldier." He was back above her. "Just a confused nooi who would have done better to raise fat, blonde, babies." "I'll baby you." Cammy came off the ground in a rush. "Spindrive Smasher!" Caught full on by the attack Rolento was thrown back into a wall. He staggered back to his feet, wavering slightly as he charged towards her. His rod stabbed out like a spear, but Cammy caught it easily with a cross block, stopping the blunt end an inch from her chest. "Not a chance turtle." Cammy prepared to kick his teeth out of the hole in his cheek. She heard a slight snapping sound. "You assumed again skattebol." Rolento's twisted smile was victorious. Cammy winced slightly as numbing pain blossomed in her chest. She glanced down. An ugly spike had shot out of tip of Rolento's fighting stick, entering just above her right breast and emerging from under her shoulder blade. She tried to kick, but the strength seemed to drain out of her legs, leaving her limp and helpless. "Blast." Cammy grated out from between clenched teeth. She coughed, bringing up a mouthful of blood. Using his weapon as a lever, Rolento swung her around, slamming her hard into the ground. He braced one of his heavy boots against her plexus as he yanked the weapon out. "Still alive?" He leered down at her, the horrible grin still in place. "Good. I have hunted wolves before. The right bait is so important." Friday 2345 IST Headquarters, New York. "I received her signal." Simon was right in O'Neil's face. "She's in trouble and you're holding us up." "I have not received the Lieutenant Colonel's panic signal Bitterbuck." O'Neil's beefy featured were flushed red. "Until I do those choppers are not leaving the ground. Do you understand that? Can you understand that?" "I understand that you're leaving her hanging with her ass in the wind." Simon's voice had risen to shout. "On a matter of procedure." "Listen carefully Lieutenant." O'Neil's voice was a low rasp. "If you do not clear out of my operations room right now, I am going to have you up on insubordination charges." "Let me guess." Simon sneered back. "My career will be over right?" "That's right." O'Neil chortled, sensing victory. "For insubordination?" There was a tremor of fear in Simon's voice. "Yep." O'Neil nodded. "Hardly seems worth it." Simon seemed to deflate slightly, the fight going out of him. "My old grandfather told me two things; one -you shouldn't ever mix whiskey with anything but water." "And." O'Neil was clearly amused now that he was back in control. "The second?" "Get in the first shot." Simon drove a hard kick into O'Neil's testicles, folding the man up like a washboard. A solid knee in the face laid him out on the floor, moaning and clutching his nose and groin. "Send the chopper. Send it right now." Simon straightened his tie. " That's an order." The private on duty nodded and issued the command. Friday 2345 Hours -Ground Outside Rolento's bunker. "Is that everyone." Thibor panted, his tongue lolling out. The ground around him was littered with broken men. Most were unconscious, but a few managed to groan in pain. The tears in his own flesh had already stopped bleeding and were beginning to close. "You broke my leg." One man wailed, clutching at a clearly shattered calf. "Is supposed to be caring?" Thibor growled. "Suffer quietly or I break other one." He turned his head towards the bunker door. He could hear the distant rattle of chains and a weak, pained whimper. "Cammy!" He was moving before the word was out of his mouth, leaping down the stairs. The smell of blood, rich with her scent, ripped through his nostrils like a razor. He could see her through the open door, lying motionless in a slowly expanding pool of blood. Thibor was at her side in a second. The wound was terrible, her lung had been pierced right through and there was considerable bleeding. "Master Bii.." Cammy whispered, her features pale, her pulse was thin and thready. "Is not dying. You hear me." Thibor glanced at his huge clawed hands, they would be useless. His wolfen form was physically powerful, but at the expense of his mind. He needed that knowledge now. Muscles melted away and the thick fur flowed back into his skin as he resumed his human form. There was pain, but it was manageable. Reaching into the broad thigh pockets of his fatigues, Thibor pulled out a medical pack, tearing it open with his teeth. A shunt inserted between the ribs allowed fluid to drain away from the lungs, while the plastic cover sealed the sucking wound. "Come on." His fingers clamped down on a severed artery, applying pressure until he could apply a hemoclip to the ragged end. Checking Cammy's neck he could feel her pulse even out slightly. "Thibor?" Cammy's voice was weak, but she managed to open her eyes. "He's still..." "Right here Rooinek." Dropping from the ceiling, Rolento brought his stick down hard against the back of Thibor's neck. There was a crack as bones shattered. "Too bad." Rolento prodded the still form with his boot. "I had higher hopes for you wolf." "Uhh." Thibor could feel his body go limp as shock set in, everything below his shoulders was numb, and he could feel the shattered bones in his neck grate as the breath left his body. It would be so easy to just die right now. "Perhaps one day your IST will have rooineks capable of matching my military brilliance." Rolento gloated. "But until that day, I shall laugh at your pitiful attempts to conquer me." "Am not rooinek." Thibor grated out, rage driving away any thought of giving up. His mind was still working, and within it, the means to call the beast from the man. The broken bones in his neck stretched and knitted as he resumed his wolfen form. Feeling rushed back into his body, and with it incredible pain, as if every nerve was being rubbed with sandpaper. It was good, pain meant there was both life and hope. "Am Romani!" "So you are not done and klaar. Magtig!" Rolento leapt for a chain and climbed quickly. "You shall know great pain before you finally die." A sickly laugh echoed out of the ruined cheek . He quickly slid over to another chain as Thibor leapt for him. Swinging around Rolento brought his stick across the werewolf's exposed snout with a dull thud. "Pain is good. You are not good enough." Thibor ignored the blow. Grabbing a chain he flipped upwards, moving far faster than his bulk should allow. His large, clawed hand closed around Rolento's neck. He released the chain and let his full weight drag on the mercenary. Gagging, Rolento extended the spike from his baton and drove it into Thibor's chest. "Still not good enough! Is steel, not silver." The huge werewolf began to swing his body back and forth. "Arrrgggh" Unable to maintain his grip on the chain, the South African mercenary let loose a scream as they fell together. It became even more shrill as Thibor drove him down onto the hook that marked the end of the chain. The curved point shot out of Rolento's belly. "What is strategy now oh great military mind?" Thibor looked up at the ceiling, his nostrils flaring. "You IST officer types are such dumkops." Rolento gasped. "You will do your duty and arrest me, I will escape, and soon I shall return stronger than ever. You are not strong enough to be true soldiers." "Could be." Thibor gently grabbed on of the dangling hooks and looped the chain around Rolento's neck, tucking the hook tight against his ruined cheek. "But I am not IST officer and you hurt Lieutenant Colonel Cammy Hoyle. Is going to have to pay for that." He leaned closer. "Is thinking chains that smell of machine oil that are traps." He yanked hard on the chain and watched expressionlessly as Rolento was dragged up to the ceiling. There was the audible crunch of bone breaking. "Is thinking right." "We are going." Thibor gently cradled Cammy in the crook of his arm. "Rolento*" Her voice was weak. "Did we get him?" "You could say that." The long wolfish jaws were grinning. "Is hanging around here somewhere. I hear choppers coming. Is backup arriving." "Good." Cammy coughed, an unhealthy wet sound. "I could use a cup of tea. "Is not good idea." Thibor began walking towards the stairs. "Is going in and then pour right back out." "Oh* Don't make me laugh." Cammy grimaced. "Okay, is keeping." Thibor paused. "Straight face." He leapt up, taking the stairs in two bounds. They emerged from the bunker, to the surprised features of the IST backup team. Most of the prisoners had already been loaded aboard the helicopters. "Hi!" Thibor said with some urgency. "Is got about thirty seconds to clear 300 meters and get cover." "Move it out!" All four choppers lifted off and quickly distanced themselves from the camp. Thibor straight armed through both fences and charged into the forest. "I've got it." Halo flew overhead and gestured. A glowing wall of sparkling energy appeared between the bunker and the retreating IST forces. "Cover ears and open mouths." Thibor faced away from the bunker and hunkered down, shielding Cammy against his chest. The entire complex went up in a fireball. Small bits of debris rained down on them. "Was some sort of remote controlled timer." Thibor explained. "Think he managed to set it off." "Do you think he got out?" Cammy reached around and grabbed Thibor's tail. It was as soft as she had imagined, she pulled it against her cheek. "If you wouldn't mind terribly, I think I'll kip out for a while. Goodnight all." Wednesday 1800 hours - IST Medical Facilities - New York "Oh this really is too much." Cammy sat up in the hospital bed, wrapped in her favorite heavy quilted nightgown. "I feel top drawer and ready to get back to work. I don't see why you're making me stay here." "Not me, is doctor's orders." Thibor shrugged. "Simon is covering office, so is nothing being missed. I am thinking he is wanting to invade Costa Vente just to keep them from sending him paperwork." "No doubt. By the way, I've been meaning to ask you about that." Cammy folded her arms across her chest, wincing slightly at the gesture. "How on earth did you get that pillock O'Neil to drop the charges." "Was little Miss Yoshida. Is finding out that O'Neil set wrong channel on panic beacon and is getting in face about it. " "And that's all it took? I rather doubt that." Cammy was scowling fiercely. "What else." "Okay." Thibor grinned wolfishly, "Was reminding him how much is liking Simon and how often is unarmed combat practice and how much I am thinking about joining classes." "So you threatened him." If anything, her scowl became deeper. "Yes." Thibor shrugged. "Was sort of fun to watch him sweat." "I'll bet it was." Cammy broke into a restrained laugh, clutching slightly at her chest as she did so. "Well I dare say he was relieved." "Shouldn't be. Am not getting any younger, is having to keep in shape." He patted his flat belly "Class is good place to start." "Oh you rotter. How terribly awful of you." Cammy covered her mouth as she tried to keep from laughing. "I shan't want to miss that." "What is telling you about covering mouth when laughing." Thibor sat down next to her on the bed and leaned closer. He put a hand under her chin, and tilted her head up slightly. "Is no phone to interrupt us." "Dinner time Miss Hoyle." A formidable looking nurse bustled in, wheeling a meal cart. "Time for you to go Mr. Sawchyk." "Is hoping to stay longer tonight Nurse Haggis." Thibor wheedled. "It's Nurse Harris." She scowled far more fiercely, setting out a rather daunting looking hospital meal. "And I don't think so." She grabbed Thibor by the earlobe, twisting and lifting. "Now come on, out you go." "Is seeing you tomorrow." Thibor called out, standing on his tiptoes to relieve the pressure on his ear. "Would stay longer but is very large nurse trying to tear ear off. When you get out is going out for dinner. Gianni is already talking about world famous lasagna with spinach and eggplant." "Sounds delicious, it's a date." Cammy picked up her fork and poked half-heartedly at what she thought might be the cooks attempt at a macaroni casserole. "Did he get rid of her?" A pair of bright eyes appeared at Cammy's window. "Thoroughly." Cammy pushed the dinner tray aside. "Make with the tucker, I am dying for a decent meal." A pair of styrofoam containers were passed through the window. "Thanks Naoko." Cammy opened the first package, revealing a heaping mound of fettuccini. The second was stuffed with thick rounds of sausage, nestled amid stewed tomatoes, sliced peppers and onions. "Don't mention it." Naoko shrugged, weaving slightly. "Hold still Simon." She warned her unseen partner in food delivery. "One last thing, Thibor thought you might want this." She handed the wooden music box through to Cammy. "I've got to go. What do you want for tomorrow?" "How about a curry and chips?" "Can do." Naoko winked. "Gotta run, Simon's back is about to give out. Oh, one more thing, Thibor said he'd be back to tuck you in." She vanished and there was a slight thumping noise followed by some laughter as the two-person pyramid collapsed on the ground outside her window. Wednesday 2200 Hours IST Medical Center. Turning out the bedside lamp, Cammy settled down, pulling the covers snugly around her shoulders. Beside her the music box played softly. As she hummed along with the Romani music she could hear a deep voice from outside her window, gently singing. It was perfectly wonderful, and she soon found herself drifting off to sleep, a gentle smile on her face.