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The Last Resort

Silver came out of the sea like Danial Craig in the opening scene of Casino Royal, with his burgundy swim trucks tight on his muscular thighs and the thin fur of his abdomen outlining deep-cut abs that were almost as defined as they had been forty-five years ago, when he was in the Special Service Force’s recognisance unit.

Vikki watched him cross the sandy beach from her lounge chair as he brushed the excess water off his chest and shook his head to fluff out his fur. Other tourists stared at the silver fox he passed them, partially because of the impressive physique on an older fellow, and partially because of the scars on his chest and back. He was shirtless, and the scars on his chest, which resembled the Japanese hiragana character for “e”, stood out pink on his pale, sun-starved Canadian hide. The one resembling the hashtag symbol that covered most of his back would be equally startling, she knew. To her knowledge it was the first time that he had been shirtless out in public since he got those scars.

She was drawing her share of stares also. She was statuesque vixen, a paw-width shy of two metres tall and with vibrant red fur that glowed in the strong Mexican sun. The small black bikini that she was wearing showed off a figure that was the envy of the models and actresses that favoured the exclusive resort they were staying at, and the desire of most of their rich male companions. Even the drag queens in Puerto Vallarta’s “Romantic Zone” fussed over her when they went shopping in that district.

Today though, some of the stares, those of the children mostly, were because she was not wearing her prosthetic paw, exposing the stump of her left forearm. She had left the fake paw that resembled a real one in their suite to save it from the fine sand and salt water. She did own a waterproof one, but it was full of proprietary technology that belonged to the Foreign Operations eXecutive, F.O.X. for short, and it would not do for it to fall into the wrong paws, so she had left her best bionic paw behind.

As the Director of F.O.X. and the Chief of Staff it had been difficult for them to get permission to be away from the Academy at the same time. They had argued that they had not had a real family vacation in over five years, and with Bill Hanlan recently promoted to Assistant Chief of Staff and Marcel doing well as the Senior Agent in Charge the Deputy Minister had relented. The Academy would not contact them for anything short of a national emergency, and Silver was looking forward to two full weeks with his mate and their son unplugged from his Academy emails and text alerts, even though it would probably take a month to get caught up again when he returned.

They had booked two weeks in an all-inclusive resort with a private beach outside of the Mexican tourist town of Puerto Vallarta on the Pacific coast. There were other warm countries that Canadians liked to vacation in during their long, hash winter, like Cuba, but employees of certain Government agencies had to avoid those with active, hostile, intelligence services. Mexico was not one of those, and Puerto Vallarta had the shopping and restaurants that Vikki considered essential for a vacation, and many activities to keep their son, Leslie, occupied. One could also watch whales frolic in the bay from the balconies of the upper-level rooms, and that sealed the deal for Silver, who liked nothing more than sitting on the balcony with a pair of powerful binoculars looking for whales.

They had packed light, only bringing the essentials in their carry-on baggage. They had spent the fist two days, which had been cool and cloudy, shopping in town for light polo shirts, sunglasses, sandals, sun dresses, wraps and other warm weather accessories. Everything else they needed, like snorkel or scuba gear, they could rent, although Silver had bought a pair of fine scuba knives with strap-on sheaths that caught his eye. Knives and fridge magnets were his go-to souvenirs.

Their son, Leslie, was fifteen now. He had his father’s build and his mother’s height. That, combined with a full face of fur, made him look much older than his years, just like his father at that age. Unlike Silver, though, who had used that adult appearance to bullshit his way into taverns and bars at that age, Leslie seemed slightly embarrassed whenever he was mistaken for an adult.

He was quiet and studious, but he was nobody’s bitch. A natural athlete that preferred gymnastics to his father’s boxing lessons or his mother’s judo sessions he could defend himself, and others, quite efficiently, but he preferred to talk down any potential threat. He had a keen intellect, superior powers of observation and an analytical mind that allowed him to see solutions to problems and exploit the weaknesses of potential adversaries. Only in his second year of high school, he was already the Captain of the debating team and a varsity gymnast. Talented at languages also, he was already fluent in French, knew German and spoke passable Spanish.

As Silver dropped down into the beach lounger beside her Vikki turned her attention to her son. He was standing a few meters away, staring towards the sea. She followed his gaze to a young wolf girl who was standing ankle deep in the surf. Vikki’s motherly instincts kicked in, and she regarded the wolf girl suspiciously.

She is very lovely, Vikki had to admit, standing there in a bright red bikini with her fur blown back by the sea breeze. She was on the small side, for a wolf, smaller than Leslie, but then again, most females were. She had a stunning white coat with black highlights on her ears, face, paws and tail. She was staring back at Leslie with a coy smile on her face.

“Oh-oh” she said under her breath. “We’ve got trouble.”

Silver’s ears pricked up. “What is it?” He said, putting down the book he was reading and subconsciously reaching for the gun he would normally be carrying.

Vikki tilted her head to point with her snout. Silver saw Leslie and the wolf girl exchanging looks and shrugged, relaxing.

“That is how boys his age are supposed to look at girls her age … or boys their age in some cases … but the way he’s looking at her I don’t think that’s an issue.”

“It’s not the way he’s looking at her,” Vikki said with a frown, “it’s the way she’s looking back at him.”

Silver studied the girl carefully and did a double take, briefly bringing back memories of one of his teenage infatuations fifty years earlier. The look on the girl’s face was the same expression his love-smitten teenage self had worn for the better part of that memorable summer.

“Oh shit.”

“Exactly.” Vikki concurred.

“A local girl, you think?” Silver wondered. The part of the beach that the resort controlled went down only halfway to the high tide line. Tourists from nearby resorts and locals could stroll the portion of the beach between the two freely or swim anywhere along it.

“Possibly.” Vikki answered. Mexican wolves tended to be smaller than their Eurasian or Canadian cousins. “She looks too old for Leslie,” she added, wrinkling her snout, “probably thinks he’s eighteen.”

“Hard to say.” Silver said, considering her full figure. She could certainly pass for an adult, but there was an air of innocence in her stance. “Females seem to mature earlier these days. It’s all the chemicals in the food.”

In this part of the world paying too much attention to someone’s daughter could lead to trouble, Silver reminded himself, and none of the locals would let a beauty like her go out unescorted, so he looked around for a parent or guardian. He didn’t see one, but he did notice a male jackal that was also looking at her, but instead of gazing in admiration or staring with lust, as one might expect, he looked angry and disgusted.

Silver wondered why, but he was distracted when he saw someone else coming up the beach, someone that made him swallow hard.

He recognized the fellow as being a Caspian Sea wolf, a Russian species. He was old, as older than Silver, short, with a prominent belly but still muscular. He had a grey and tan coat with black markings similar to the girl’s, but with much coarser fur. He was missing his right eye and wore an eye-patch over the socket.

Silver had been the one responsible for taking that eye, ending the Russian KGB agent’s career as a sniper assassin.

The wolf barked and the wolf-girl turned, reluctantly breaking her gaze with Leslie, and ran across the sand to the old wolf.

The way she ran, carefree and colt-like, revealed to Silver that her true age was akin to Leslie’s. The way she obeyed the wolf, and the familial kiss she planted on his cheek when she reached him, also revealed that she was his old rival’s daughter.

The wolf saw him looking at them and their eyes locked. Silver saw recognition in them.

Vikki was looking at Leslie, who was still looking longingly at the girl. The girl was looking back and forth between Leslie and her father. Her father’s eyes were flicking between Silver and Leslie, noting the obvious similarities between the two. The wolf’s frown deepened.

When the wolf looked at him again Silver pointed to the sun, then to the horizon and then he jerked his thumb towards the resort bar. The wolf nodded, having got the message, then he turned, taking his daughter by the paw and half dragged her over to another set of resort lounge chairs.

Vikki followed them with her eyes, as did the forlorn looking Leslie. Sitting in one of the chairs was a female that was obviously the girl’s mother. She was a stunning arctic wolf with long, fluffy, white locks. The girl was lucky to have inherited her mother’s looks, her silky coat, and her father’s markings, Vikki thought.

The sun was already getting low. “I’m going to get changed.” Silver said, getting up, suddenly self-conscious about his scars. “Let’s meet up for dinner around eight, okay?”

Vikki wondered what Silver intended to do in the two hours between sundown and dinner, but the look of concern on his face told her not to ask; he would let her know in good time.

Silver pulled on his shirt and headed for the resort, noting that the jackal he had seen frowning at the girl earlier had also left the beach, but did not appear to have gone towards the resort. Without really thinking on it, his brain filed that tidbit of information away where it stored every other loose fact and triviality in perpetuity, perhaps never to be recalled again.

After a quick shower and a change of clothes Silver made his way down to the resort’s bar. It was an open concept affair with stools along the bar and small tables between the bar and the restaurant seating area.

As it was close to the exterior wall of the compound there was only one direction that the guests could approach it from. Not seeing the wolf there, Silver chose a table near a mirrored column where he could sit with his back to the bar and watch the approach.

Just when the sun looked like it was about to touch the sea he noticed movement reflected in the mirror of the column. The wolf was coming around the end of the bar from where only employees were allowed. He must have bribed the bar staff to let him through back there, Silver supposed, in order to surprise me. The tactic had not worked, thanks to the mirrored column.

“Yuri.” Silver said just before the wolf stepped around the end of the bar behind him.

“Silver.” The wolf acknowledged, looking disappointed. “You do go by the name Silver still?” He assed as he sat opposite the Canadian spy.

“Yes, still.” Silver admitted. He had not used his real name in so long that if someone addressed him by it he probably would not realize who they were talking to. “Are you still Yuri?” That had been the last name that F.O.X. Had on file for the wolf.

“Yes. It is my real name, actually. I dropped the code names when I lost my eye and had to retire.”

“How did you lose that eye?”

“You know very well that it was you that shot through my scope while I was aiming at a Russian turncoat trying to sneak across the frontier. I jerked my head back at the last instant, otherwise you would have killed me, but as it was the impact sent shattered glass into my eye and ended my career.”

“Well, at least the ‘dissident’ escaped.”

“The ‘traitor’, you mean.”

“Potatoe, Patatoe. A lucky shot. I was trying to hit your gun, to knock the rifle from your paw.”

“Bullshit, you were aiming for my head. You were just a lousy shot. What are you drinking?” Yuri asked as he signaled the waiter.

“Cerveza.” Silver told the waiter, ordering a beer.

“Vodka.” Yuri ordered. “Canadian Vodka if you have it.” He turned back to Silver, “The Russian vodka is really crap, always has been. Access to good vodka has been one advantage to losing the Cold War.”

They waited in silence for their drinks to come and the waiter to leave.

“So,” Yuri said after finishing his vodka in one swig, “You are looking good … for your age.”

“I’d say the same for you, but I would be lying.” Silver replied after a sip of beer.

The wolf chuckled. “Is that why they made you Director of F.O.X., because of your smart tongue?”

Silvers brows went up, but he was not really surprised. “Oh, you know about that?”

Yuri shrugged. “I keep up.”

“What are you up to these days?” Silver asked. “Doing work on the side for Department S? A little plutonium poisoning of Putin’s rivals, perhaps?”

Yuri shook his maned head. “Not my style. Besides, with the Soviet Union breaking up I needed a good job, so I went into private security for the emerging oligarchs. It pays well, and it allowed me to start a family.”

“So I saw. You wife was Agent Natasha, as I recall.”

“Yes, but she is just Vanya now … your mate is known in FSB circles as Emerald, your Chief of Staff, I believe.”

Silver nodded his head in admiration at the quality of the wolf’s information. “You have kept up.”

“Yes. Tell me, is that your son I saw on the beach drooling over my Tanya?”

“Hardly drooling, but yes. His name is Leslie.”

Yuri leaned in across the table and his one eye went cold. “If he lays a paw on her I will kill him.”

Silver refused to rise to the bait. “In that case I’ll do the same for you, and where will that leave us? With Vanya coming after me and my mate going after her and Tanya left all alone in a foreign country?”

Yuri sat back and laughed until he couldn’t breathe.

“You have not changed.” He said when he caught his breath, signalling for another round.

“Neither have you, Yuri.”

They talked a bit, mostly trivialities like the fact that they were both relics of the Cold War with much younger mates and a single child each. Yuri confided that he was not in Putin’s group of ex-KGB cronies, “But I’m not on his shit list either, and I don’t intend to get there by being seen hanging out with the likes of you.”

“What could Vlad possibly have against me?” Silver asked, innocently.

“You shot at him!”

“He shot at me first, and we both missed.”

“Not surprising in his case,” Yuri shrugged, “he was always a lousy shot, and a terrible hockey player, but I expected better from you, Silver.”

“To be fair, I was outnumbered and on the wrong side of the Inner-German border at the time. I was just firing to keep their heads down while I made for the subway tunnels.

“That was your secret way back and forth between East and West Berlin?”

“Yes.”

“Humph, we suspected as much, but could never find the passages you were using.”

“We paid the smugglers well to keep them secret.”

“Of course, blatant capitalism. I should have known.”

There was a minute of silence while both contemplated their past before anyone spoke.

“So.” Silver ventured. “What do we do about the kids?”

“Will your boy obey if you tell him to stay away from my daughter?”

“He will … but he will be moody for the rest of the trip, and there’s no better way to ruin a vacation than to have a moody teenager along. What about your daughter?”

Yuri shook his furry head. “She will scream, pull her hair, throw a fit, refuse to speak with me and still sneak out to see him, so we might as well let them be.”

“Leslie is a responsible boy.” Silver assured the wolf. “He won’t disrespect your daughter.” He took a last sip of his beer. “Hell, it will probably blow over in a couple of days anyway … Leslie doesn’t speak Russian and I doubt your daughter knows English.”

“Correct.” Yuri said, his mood lightning. “Only French. She speaks perfect French.”

Silver looked at the wolf. Leslie had gone to a French emersion school for the past ten years and was now perfectly bi-lingual, better than Silver even, who had learned French from his father, a native of France who had married an Armenian vixen shortly after he had settled in Canada.

He looked back to the beach, where the two teenagers were sitting with their mothers but still staring at each other.

“Merde.”

* * * * * * * *

Silver did not speak of his conversation at dinner. He was not about to tell Leslie that he had Tanya’s Father’s permission to date his daughter; if Leslie was interested in the wolf girl he would have to figure out how to approach her on his own. He did discuss it with Vikki after Leslie left them at the table to go walking on the beach. Vikki was shocked to learn about the former-KGB assassin’s presence but agreed that non-interference would be the best policy when it came to teenage romance.

“Look what happened to Romeo and Juliet when their families interfered.” She said.

“They were thirteen.” Silver noted.

“That was marrying age then.” She pointed out.

“Hmmph.” Silver sat in silence for a moment.

He noticed that Yuri and his wife had come down to dinner with their daughter, and noted the way that Yuri scanned the room for Leslie before selecting a table as far away from Silver and Vikki as possible.

Fair enough, Silver thought, no sense getting too chummy.

Leslie came back from the beach just as the entertainment for the evening was starting. He saw Tanya sitting with her parents and he almost tripped over his feet before catching himself. She noticed him too, and that same coy smile Silver remembered from the beach lit up her face again.

It’s going to be a long couple of weeks, he told himself.

Leslie rejoined them, taking a route that took him out of his way but one which passed by Tanya’s table, and Silver did not think that the boy took his eyes off the girl until the point where his neck would break if he kept looking over his shoulder. When he sat down, he angled his chair not toward the stage but toward her, and Silver saw that she had done the same.

“What’s on your mind, Leslie?” Vikki asked her son, a little too innocently.

Silver was not sure if the boy had picked up on her tone, but if he did he did not mention the girl he was obviously infatuated with, choosing a more mundane topic instead.

“Did you know that they have a tsunami alarm on the beach?” He began. “The ground floor of the resort is designed to let the water wash right trough it, leaving the upper levels safe and dry for the most part. I was reading the safety card on the inside of the door to our suite, and it said that in the case of a tsunami alert the elevators would shut down and all the guests were to run to the hotel and climb the stairs to get to the upper floors. The rendezvous point is the rooftop bar.”

Typical that his studious son had read and remembered the safety drills every other tourist ignored, Silver thought. The boy really was very different from me in most aspects at that age, in all ways but one.

In his early teens Silver had found it difficult to control his temper while the hormones were raging within him. An insult, a shove on the basketball court, a challenge from a bully … that was all it took for a red curtain of rage to descend behind his eyes. His mind would go blank and his fists would work by instinct alone. When his vision cleared again he would inevitably find himself standing over the bleeding form of whoever had triggered him.

It had caused Silver a lot of trouble in school, which only ended when he joined the army, where they managed to knock a little discipline into him. He was determined that Leslie would learn to control it before he hurt anyone so, at the first sign of a temper, he and Vikki had patiently taught him the meditation and breathing techniques that would stave off the red tide, along with enough defensive martial arts to fend off most opponents without hurting them too badly. Leslie showed a natural talent for diplomacy though, and so far had managed to talk down all the bullies and rivals that he had encountered.

But would he be able to keep his head when a female was involved, Silver wondered? That would be the real test.

Leslie and Tanya stared at each other across the sea of tables for the rest of the evening, but neither could work up the courage to actually cross the room and say hello.

The next morning was different, though. Silver and Vikki had been in the habit of walking for eight to ten kilometers along the sandy beach after breakfast and up until today Leslie had joined them. He enjoyed finding shells and sea-worn objects half buried in the sand, like a shark’s vertebrae and, just the day before, a fancy lady’s sterling silver bracelet that someone had lost in the sea. Salt water and fine sand had polished it and cleaned out the delicate pattern etched into it. There were no resorts nearby so there was no way of knowing who had lost it or when, but it was obviously expensive.

“I’ll bring it back for Aunt Geno.” Leslie had said as he pocketed it, missing his mother’s disappointed look because he had not thought of giving it to her first.

On this day, however, Leslie announced that he was going to stay on the beach in front of the resort. When his parents returned an hour and a half later they were not surprised to see him sitting in a lounge chair beside the pretty white wolf with the black markings.

“That was fast.” Vikki commented.

“No Idea where he gets that from.” Silver said defensively.

“As I recall,” Vikki said, looking down at him, “you sat down to give me a lecture about not giving up and fifteen minutes later Leslie was conceived.”

“More like twenty.” Silver countered. “It was a long walk to the garden pond.”

Vikki smirked and squeezed his arm, remembering that first night. They sat down in a pair of lounge chairs several meters away from where the young couple were chatting away in French.

Yuri and his mate Vanya came down to the beach too about they time. They took up position on the opposite side of the teens, dividing their attention between monitoring them out of the corners of their eyes and glaring at Silver and Vikki as if it was their fault that opposite sexes attracted.

From then on, the two teens went everywhere together, sometimes forcing their parents to socialize as both wanted to keep an eye on them. For Silver and Yuri it was not too bad, as they had shared experiences and mutual acquaintances from the old days, but Vikki and Vanya had nothing in common except height. A double glare from them was enough to dive any vendors or would-be fortune tellers away from the young couple.

The sight of the two statuesque females striding along silently ten paces behind the teenaged couple like hired bodyguards was intimidating and attractive at the same time. So much so that the locals began to gather at the time they took their morning walk for the males to ogle them and take bets on what colour of bikinis they would be wearing.

The young couple were pleasing to the eye also, in a more wholesome manner. Others at the resort and on the streets noticed them. Matrons on the Boardwalk smiled at them and the gay couples in the Zona Romantica fussed over them when they lingered in the shops there.

Both sets of parents watched the growing romance with trepidation, The wolves in particular. It seemed perfectly innocent, but Vanya wanted to end it before they became intimate.

“Even though,” she noted, “as separate species nothing would come of it.”

“I don’t know.” Silver said, thinking about two of his agents, a black fox and a polish cheetah that had managed to produce offspring, thanks to the latest breakthrough in genetic manipulation. “They are making amazing advances in the field of cross-species breeding.”

That just made the wolves even more nervous.

The two youngsters began taking breakfast and lunch together, but both families insisted that they dine with their parents in the evening before peeling away to watch the nightly show at a separate table. So it was only at dinner that Silver and Vikki had a chance to talk with their son.

Usually he talked about Tanya, about how nice she was, how smart she was, or how pretty she was, but one night four days after their romance started he said, “Did you notice how many jackals seem to be hanging about?”

Silver had noticed, starting with the one who had been frowning at Tanya that first day on the beach, but he said, “No, I hadn’t. This place gets mostly Americans though,” he continued, “so they are probably from there. Deerborne, Michigan in particular has a large population of Arabic species, I hear.”

Leslie looked thoughtful for a moment.

“Perhaps, but they are not staying here, at the resort I mean. They just show up on the beach and watch the guests and staff all day. Just males, no females, and they pretend to be together in pairs, but they have different pairs every day.”

“Good eye, son.” Silver said, impressed that the boy had kept his powers of observation despite the distraction of a pretty wolf at his side. “Not everyone would notice that.” Like me, he thought, disappointed with himself for missing the suspicious activity. I must be getting old.

Silver spent the next two days watching the jackals’ movements. He saw that two, dressed as municipal workers, had dug up the utility cables leading to the resort. That will let them cut the power, telephones, internet and alarms, he thought. Another Jackal was videotaping the guests from a distance with some high-end video gear and a portable satellite comms link, the kind usually used in remote combat operations. Why would they need that here, where the communications infrastructure was strong, Silver wondered?

To bypass any possible monitoring, of course, he concluded.

Yuri came up silently beside Silver. “That satellite link is old Russian army gear.” He told the fox. “They sold a lot to the insurgent groups opposing pro-western governments back then.”

Silver told him about Leslie’s observations and added his own.

“Leslie was right about the jackals switching up in pairs, except for the camera operator and the one I saw glaring at Tanya the first day on the beach.” Silver told him. “They only ever work together.”

“It sounds like a terrorist group doing their reconnaissance before an attack.” Yuri commented. “How many do you make them to be?”

“Twenty, including the camera operator. They must want to film the carnage like Hamas did on the October seventh attack. The question is, when?

The wolf looked around. “Tonight, there is a full moon. That’s when I would do it, after the show when the staff is tired and the guests are wandering back to their rooms half in the bag, as you say.” He went on, “I would cut the utilities and set off the tsunami alarm which is on local power. Even the cellular service relies on that transponder on the roof there.” He said, pointing to a white box mounted on a tripod above the rooftop bar. “With the power off and the phone lines cut no one will be able to call the police.”

“All the staff and guests will rush to the roof, and they can herd the stragglers for the big show.” Silver finished for him. “It will only take a couple of minutes, and the nightly fireworks show from the nearby resorts will cover the sound of gunfire. They can arrive and escape in boats stolen from the marina, and by the time anyone reports the attack they will be far out to sea rendezvousing with a freighter or getting on a drug plane at a jungle airfield.” He paused for a moment. “We should call in the Federal authorities.”

Yuri shook his head. “No, they will take too long investigating before they act, and their presence would scare off the jackals. They will go to ground and reappear to attack some other resort next month.”

“The local police?”

“Please, don’t make me laugh.”

“The Army?”

“There are not many troops in this area as all the cartel activity is north of here, and those that were here have been drawn off by some shooting yesterday that started a local gang war up in the mountains.”

“A distraction.” Silver concluded looking at Yuri half with admiration and as well as a bit of suspicion. “You really do keep up with what’s going on. Some personal interest there?”

“I’m retired.” Yuri protested, but then added, “However, I do facilitate the movement of certain goods across the artificial and invisible boundary lines set by governments, so I keep my eye open. My one eye, thanks to you, but anyways, yes, a distraction.”

“So, it’s up to us.”

Yuri looked at his colleague then over to their mates. “A force of last resort, but I think we four can handle them.”

“What do we do with the kids?”

“Lock them in their rooms.”

“They’ll get suspicious.”

“Tell your boy that I’m on a rampage, convinced that he has been trying to seduce my Tanya, and that it is for his own safety. I’ll tell her that I have discovered a plot by my western rivals to use her affection for the boy as a tool to recruit her against me, and that she has just been a prawn in your scheme.”

“A pawn, you mean.”

“Prawns, pawns … whatever. They are both weak and easily trapped. We will need to ensure that the other guests stay clear of the beach and deck though.”

Silver recalled that the resorts store sold a number of remedies for those gringos that caught the ‘Touristas’ … and some strong laxatives for those suffering from the opposite ailment of constipation from the unfamiliar food.

“Leave that to me, and avoid the buffet. By the way, Yuri, do you have any guns?”

Silver and Vikki had not brought their guns with them. This was supposed to be a family vacation, after all, and being caught with them in a foreign country would have caused a diplomatic incident. They could have arranged for them to be forwarded to them by diplomatic pouch, but who could have predicted the current situation? Now, it was too late.

“Not with me.” Yuri replied. “And not close enough to get here in time. Vanya did buy a couple of large switchblade knives she intended to take home … as souvenirs only.”

Recalling what he knew of Vanya from her file at F.O.X. Silver doubted that but said nothing. “I have a couple of skin-diving knives in a safe upstairs.” He admitted.

The safe in question was not the regular room safe, which any idiot could break into, but a F.O.X. issued lock box with a biological lock, one coded to his and Vikki’s DNA. It contained encrypted emergency communication gear just in case they had to direct an unexpected F.O.X. operation from a remote location. Silver had also placed their cash, passports and the two razor-sharp, eight-inch knives he had bought inside it.

“They will do.” Yuri said nodding. “We want to keep it quiet as long as possible.”

Leslie and Tanya were both disappointed to hear the stories their fathers were using as an excuse to keep them in their rooms. As predicted Leslie became moody and Tanya did indeed throw a fit. She also attempted to sneak out as soon as her father left but found the door to their suite locked from the outside, courtesy of a master key that Vanya had stollen from the Manager while pretending to demonstrate Salsa dance moves she had learned earlier that week. After securing his daughter he had passed the key to Silver so that he could do the same to his son.

Silver’s next stop was the resort’s kitchen, where he pretended to be looking for room service while dumping large amounts of laxative pills into the evening buffet’s ingredients.

* * * * * * * *

The terrorists moved into position as they had rehearsed. Half carried silenced pistols along with their assault rifles, to deal with any unexpected interference without alerting the nearby resorts until the fireworks went off in about twenty minutes.

Two went to the front gate where they had exposed the utility lines and waited for zero hour. Two others that had stollen semi-rigid zodiac boats from the nearby marina idled offshore, just out of sight. The other sixteen deployed in two teams of eight on either side and moved up the beach until they were within earshot of the resort. A lively instrumental version of a popular tune could be heard coming from the patio where the party would be winding down.

The leader checked his watch and sent a signal on the portable radios that carried. The team at the gate cut the power and communication lines. The lights of the resort went out and the music suddenly stopped. A moment later the tsunami alarm began to wail.

They waited a full minute to give the staff and guests time to retreat to the hotel, seeking shelter from the non-existent wave before moving in, but two members of each team stayed behind to guard the flanks, just in case an unexpected police patrol came along. The zodiacs also moved onto the beach where the pilots remained, keeping the engines running for a quick getaway once the job was done.

The remaining twelve moved up on the resort, assault rifles slung across their backs, silenced pistols up and ready. Only the leader, who was carrying a portable radio and the satellite communications gear that would link them to the groups headquarters half the world away, and the camera operator did not have pistols. But the leader did have an assault rifle, because he intended to start the filmed slaughter of hundreds of infidels personally.

As expected, there were no guests or staff on the patio when they made their way up the stairs from the beach. Just a buffet line and a number of tables that looked like they had been abandoned in haste. There was no band, or sign that there ever was one, just a large speaker attached to a karaoke machine that was now silent and powerless. That seemed strange to the leader, but in his excitement he dismissed it as an unimportant detail.

He did not know that there had been no show that night, because the band and the dancers had been fed from the same kitchen that had prepared the buffet, the one that had all the guests and most of the staff moaning, clutching their bellies and racing for the washrooms in the lobby en masse before the show was even due to begin.

At the suggestion of one guest that seemed unaffected, a tall red vixen with a prosthetic paw on her left arm, the remaining staff had moved everyone into a makeshift emergency ward in the basement conference room where there were plenty of toilets. Once set up down there they were surprised to find the phones out of order, the cellular reception gone, and all the exit doors locked from the outside. When they had pounded on the door for help, the voice of the vixen had told them in passable Spanish that there had been a power failure across the entire city that had somehow engaged the electronic locks on all the doors. She then asked them please to remain calm and quiet for the guest’s sake and told them that she would return with help as soon as it was available. Fortunately, someone had left battery-operated lanterns and plenty of bottled water … and the toilets were still working, grace a Dios. They had settled in for what could be a long night.

Although the full moon provided some illumination neither of the flanking teams nor the pilots of the zodiacs could see any of the others. The bright lights of the resort had blinded them and it would take some time to regain their night vision. But each team could see if anyone was moving on the beach toward them, thanks to the lights of the nearby resorts. It was not uncommon for foreign guests to stroll along the beach after dark in this relatively safe area, and their job was to make sure that no one doing so got away alive to alert the authorities.

So, neither team was surprised to see a tall, shapely female in a skimpy bikini coming toward them. A white wolfess from one side and a red vixen from the other. Having no instructions except to shoot any tourists before they reached the resort the male terrorists of both teams let the harmless looking females approach, admiring the view as long as they could before ruining it by putting a few bullets through such wonderful bodies. The designated shooter on both brought their pistols up at the same time, about half a second too late, as each experienced the sensation of a paw on their throat and a sharp blade across their neck.

Their partners turned when hot blood splashed their faces, but before they could swing their rifles around they were struck by knives thrown by the females. This unexpected intrusion on their flesh gave the male assailants time to drop the bodies of their first victims and finish off the other two.

Reaching their mates on either side, Vikki and Vanya pulled dark clothing from bags slung on their backs and silently dressed. Without saying a word, they recovered their knives from the hides of their victims and each moved toward one of the boats idling in the sand while Silver and Yuri, each taking a silenced pistol, struck out for the stairs after the rest of the terrorists.

The pilots felt their boats shift slightly but could not make anything out against the pitch-black sea. Neither had their rifles at the ready, relying on the flank guards to alert them of intruders. Neither made much of a splash when the female agents dumped their bleeding bodies in the black water.

Their mates were already headed up the stairs, moving quickly to catch up with the main body of terrorists. Vikki and Vanya’s job was now to eliminate the two at the front of the building and secure the exits, dealing with any terrorists that tried to flee the fate that was about to befall them.

“I’ll go to the front.” Vikki said.

“No.” Vanya countered. “I’ll go.”

Vikki thought for a moment. There was no sense arguing, either one of them was capable of carrying out that portion of the mission, and Vanya seemed eager to eliminate a couple more opponents. She must be missing the old days, Vikki thought.

“Sure.” She said holding out one of the assault rifles they had collected. “Take this.”

“No, thank you.” Vanya replied, holding up the wicked switch blade she had used on the others. “This will do for me, and there will be guns there for me when I am done.

With that the white wolf pulled her hood back over her head and disappeared into the dark. Vikki busied herself disabling the motors on the two boats and setting herself up in a sheltered position where she could cover the beach side of the hotel.

I wonder how the children are doing? She thought as she settled in to wait for Silver to give the ‘all clear’ signal, or for the jackals to appear.

* * * * * * * *

Up in their suite, Leslie had been pouting as only a set-upon teenager could. He was sure that if he had a chance to explain things to Tanya’s father that he could clear everything up, but his paranoid cold war leftover of a father would not listen, of course, and he didn’t have a chance to appeal to his more reasonable mother before his dad locked him in the suite.

How had he even done that, he wondered? He knew that his dad kept a set of lock picking tools disguised as pipe and cigar smoking tools, but they were for opening doors, not locking them. The suite’s electronic locks could only engage with a key card and only be overridden with a master key. Is that what his dad had used to lock him in?

After testing the door a few times and checking the balcony to see if he could swing over to the next suite or up onto the roof Leslie gave up and plopped down on the sofa in the darkened suite to sulk.

When he heard the Tsunami alarm go off he was shocked. Rushing to the balcony he expected to see the guests rushing back into the hotel, but there was no one on the patio. That struck him as strange. Stranger still, all the lights down there had gone out. How could they have had advanced notice of a tsunami, and why turn out the lights behind them? And where did they all go? He had not heard any commotion in the hallways or any sound of activity from the rooftop bar above him.

He was still studying the scene and considering the implications of the silence when he spotted a dozen figures coming up the stairs from the beach and spreading out across the patio. His eyes were already adjusted to the darkness from sitting in the darkened suite. In the moonlight he could see that most were carrying guns, slung assault rifles and pistols with elongated barrels. Silencers, he concluded. He knew what line of work his parents were in and was not ignorant of the tradecraft.

Before he looked away two more figures appeared at the head of the stairs, one of them moved in a manner very familiar to Leslie.

Now he knew why they had locked him in the suite, and if he was locked in then so was Tanya.

His thoughts immediately turned to her safety. How could her parents had left her alone, knowing that terrorists were about to strike? A locked door was not much of an impediment, but when the terrorists could not find the guests, wherever their parents had managed to stash them, they would start shooting out the locks to search for them, and they were likely to start with the suites on the top floor, where he and Tanya were prisoners.

Without thinking of his own safety Leslie ran for the lock box that his parents kept in the bedroom of the suite. The lock-pick tools were kept in it, along with some communications gear and a couple of expensive diving knives.

The box worked similar to a thumbprint lock, except that it sampled one’s DNA and opened only if it matched. He knew that it was coded to work for both his father and mother’s DNA, and only theirs, but he also knew that he shared both of their genes, so there was a possibility that what he was about to try might work.

He licked his thumb to increase the amount of genetic material and pressed it to the sensor. There was a slight sucking sensation as the device drew off saliva and skin cells then pause while they were analyzed. The combination of his parents’ genes must have satisfied the machine because the lock on the box clicked open.

Leslie grabbed the lock picking tools. He had practiced with similar devices while at boarding school, to break out after dark and go exploring or to break into the pantry to treat his friends, so he was familiar with how they worked. He was momentarily surprised to see that the knives were missing but realized that his parents must have taken them to deal with the terrorists, initially anyway.

Closing the box, he went to the door of the suite and began working on the lock. It was easier from the inside since all the anti-picking safeguards had only been applied to the exterior of the door; burglars usually have to break in to rob a suite, not out. Before leaving he grabbed a heavy brass table lamp and raised it over his head.

When the door swung open he was startled to see someone standing there and he almost swung the base of the lamp down on Tanya’s head before he realized who it was. She was standing there in a simple, light cotton dress, holding a hairpin in her paw.

“Leslie dropped the lamp and scooped her into his arms.

“Tanya! How?” He said in French

She held up the bent hairpin. “My mother taught me to use a number of ordinary things to deal with emergencies.” She replied in the same language. “And how to incapacitate an attacker long enough to flee or … well, she has her ways of dealing with threats that I do not necessarily share.”

“Do you know about the terrorists?” He asked her.

“Yes, I saw them on the patio.”

“They must be searching the hotel floor by floor looking for the guests and staff now. It won’t be long before they get to this floor. Let’s get up the roof and barricade ourselves there.” Leslie suggested. Tanya agreed, and they ran paw in paw for the stairs to the rooftop bar.

* * * * * * * *

With the elevators out of service the terrorists had to use the stairs also. At each floor the leader dispatched two members to check the rooms in either direction before continuing on to the next level. By the sixth floor there was only the camera operator, who had been recording their progress, and him left, so they waited for the first team to catch up.

When no one showed after several minutes he leaned over the railing to see what the holdup was. What he saw was the bodies of several of his compatriots laying broken and bleeding on the lower landing, while the last two struggled with a pair of canines dressed in black two floors below. Hotel security, he surmised, or perhaps some local police caging a few free drinks during the party. Either way, they had to be dealt with before he lost anymore of his people.

He immediately brought his assault rifle around and fired a burst in their direction, more to alert the two on the floor above the scuffle than to try to hit the assailants engaged with his jackals. Hearing the rush of feet coming back to the central stairs he grabbed the camera operator and pulled him up, racing for the roof where he believed they would find the guests.

Up on the roof Leslie and Tanya heard the shots and were afraid. They had discovered that it was impossible to bar the doors to the stairs because the fire safety regulations required doors that opened outward and which could not be locked, so that anyone evacuating the rooftop bar could just push through them. That meant that anyone coming up to the bar could just pull them open, regardless of anything they tried to barricade it with from their side.

Leslie was about to suggest that they check out whether they could jump down onto the balcony of the top floor when the leader of the terrorists and his camera operator burst through the doors.

The leader skidded to a stop, confused by the fact that there was only a pair of young people on the roof. Where was the staff? Where were all the other guests? Had they jumped off the roof when they heard him firing?

Shots from down below brought his mind back into focus. If there were only two infidels to execute then two it would be … but he was not about to give them a quick, painless death.

“Please, Sidi.” Leslie said with what little Farsi he knew, opening his paws to show that they were not a threat. “We are but children and unworthy of your attention. Besides, does the Koran not say …”

“Don’t lecture me, boy.” The leader snarled as he brought the butt of rifle around and against Leslie’s head hard enough to knock him to his knees. “Ahmed, set the camera up, were going to have some fun with this slut before we kill them.” Then he spit on Leslie’s face.

Leslie did not catch the last bit because his head hurt so much and because the red wave was threatening to engulf him. The cut over his left eye stung, but the spit dripping down the side of his muzzle burned in his mind. It got worse when he saw the jackal with the rifle reach out and rip the dress off of Tanya, leaving her standing there in the cool evening air in nothing but a white cotton bra and panties.

Enough of his rational mind remained to know that he did not stand a chance against two adult opponents, both likely trained in the mountain camps he had read about and one of who was armed. He immediately began trying to regulate his breathing and slow his heart the way his parents had taught him, but it was a losing battle, at least until Tanya knelt down and placed a paw on his chest.

She whispered in his ear in French before the leader of the jackals could pull her away. “You will have your chance … wait for it.”

Leslie slumped, assuming a broken, submissive pose, but he was tensing his muscles to spring when whatever opportunity Tanya was arranging arrived.

The camera operator gave the leader a thumbs up to indicate that the camera was running and that the link to the satellite was live. Seeing an apparently defeated kit in Leslie the leader ignored him, instructing the camera operator to hold the girl. The operator did so, reaching around to fondle the girls’ breasts while the leader slung his rifle across his back and unzipped his fly.

Seeing the jackal’s paws on her chest brought the red tide in again, but Leslie held it back.

Tanya waited until the leader was pressed up against ear, groping at her panties, then made her move. Raising one leg she rammed it into the shin of the Jackal holding her from behind as her father had taught her. The Jackal immediately released her and hopped back out of range. Then she brought her knee up into that spot that her mother assured her would break the spirit of any male, and as she did, she wrapped her arms tightly around her assailant, preventing him from reaching his rifle.

Leslie recognized the opportunity. He released the red tide and let it wash over him.

* * * * * * * *

Thousands of kilometers away in an underground Signals Intelligence facility a border collie on night shift was monitoring known terrorist channels. Suddenly one their priority targets signals went live, and he put it on the big screen.

He saw the camera swing around, probably on a tripod, to point to where a jackal with an assault rifle was standing by a white wolf girl with black markings wearing only her underwear while a young silver fox knelt, bleeding, to one side. Facial recognition software immediately identified the Jackal as the leader of an operational group with a particularly nasty reputation and automatically sounded the alarm to alert the Duty Officer.

He watched with dread, helpless to do anything other than try to find the source of the satellite feed while a second jackal moved into the frame and grabbed the girl from behind. The first jackal was fumbling at his groin when the Duty Officer entered the room behind him.

“Are you tracing this?” The DO asked.

“Yes. Geographical recognition of the background puts it somewhere in Puerto Vallarta. Looks like a rooftop bar of some sort. I’m trying to narrow it down to a specific one now, but we don’t have any assets anywhere near there.”

“What are they doing?”

The analyst swallowed. “It looks like they are going to rape and kill them, Sir.”

“Dear God.”

Suddenly the situation changed. One jackal was hopping away, holding his shin, the other was struggling to free himself from the wolf girl’s grip. Then the fox leapt into action.

The two intelligence agents watched in fascination.

“Good God! You can’t put that on the evening news. Who taught them to fight like that?”

“I don’t know,” the analyst said, “but I don’t want to get on their bad side.”

A moment later it was over. The fox slumped, dropping a broken and bloodied assault rifle to the floor. The wolf girl, who had been strangling the other Jackal with his own bandana left the limp body and rushed to the fox boy, hugging him tightly when she reached him. His arms came up around her waist and his shoulders heaved. The DO and the analyst realized that the lad was sobbing.

Then someone shouted in Russian, and the ‘Person of Interest’ alarm went off again. A second later, just as an adult wolf could be seen rushing toward the pair of teenagers, the camera feed was cut off.

“Yuri Bragonov.” The Do said, glancing at the screen with the Person of Interest report. “I thought he was retired.”

* * * * * * * *

Silver and Yuri burst onto the roof, afraid that they may be too late. After dispatching the last of the terrorist fighters they had stopped on the top floor to check on their respective children, only to find, to their dismay, that the suites were empty, the locks disabled.

“Did they take them?” Yuri asked as they rushed back to the stairs.

“Maybe.” Silver said. “Or they broke out when they heard the shots. Either way, the only place they could have gone is the roof.”

“Let’s go!” Yuri called as he ran ahead.

They had heard no shots, but that did not mean that the remaining two terrorists had not harmed the children or would not harm them when they arrived. The other option would be that they would come under fire as soon as they made their entrance, so it would have to be fast, sudden and dispersed enough so that at least one might survive long enough to fire back.

They communicated with paw signals as they rushed up the last flight of stairs, dropping the silenced pistols in favour of the more accurate assault rifles. Silver would go right, Yuri would go left. They would pull the doors open and roll onto the roof in opposite directions, firing as they went if either had a clear shot, coming to rest on their bellies behind whatever cover they could find other wise.

Before they reached the door they heard a yelp of pain, and they doubled their speed. Then came the muffled sound of some sickening thuds, then silence.

They paused for only an instant, pulled on the doors so that they flew back against the walls, and rolled in.

There were no shots, no noise of any kind. When Silver came to rest below a table he peeked out to assess the situation and saw Leslie and Tanya embracing. Evidently Yuri did also, because he shouted something rude in Russian that included a treat to kill the kit that was defiling his half-naked daughter.

Silver also saw the bodies of the two jackals and their camera as he rushed to keep Yuri from killing Leslie outright. He flicked off the camera as he passed it and caught the wolf as he was reaching for Leslie’s neck, pointing to the dead jackals and urging Yuri to calm down.

Neither of the teens had moved yet, and Silver could see that they were both crying in the aftermath of the tension.

Yuri examined the bodies, finishing up with the broken assault rifle. then he looked to Leslie and Tanya with new respect.

“Okay, your son can date my daughter.”

“Great.” Silver commented as the fireworks began at the resorts to either side of them. Then he pulled the sniffling teenagers apart, checking the wound on his son’s head and wondering if Leslie would have a scar similar to the one that bisected his own left eyebrow. Hopefully it would be his last.

“Your mothers will be up soon.” He told them. “Go to our suite and get washed up while you wait for them.” Then to Tanya, “Take care of him. Your father and I will clean up this mess.”

* * * * * * * *

The hotel staff never did solve the mystery of the mass intestinal disorder, or how the locks on the doors to the conference room became jammed, or why the local Tsunami alarm had gone off when the power went out. They were just grateful that a couple of guests that had been away from the resort at the time were able to get medical help and unlock the doors once the power came back on. The cleaning staff did notice some stains on the lower floor landings and the floor of the rooftop bar but assumed that it was just guests overcome with bloody diarrhea. They scrubbed the floors and changed the carpets and by the next day not a trace was left.

Life at the resort went back to normal. At the nearby marina, the owner of the scuba tour service found that two of his best Zodiacs were missing and, according to the GPS trackers he had hidden onboard, were last noted heading out to see from in front of one of the resorts. He assumed that drug runners had stolen them and that they were gone forever. He called his insurance company and prepared for the higher premiums they would likely demand.

On the beach the Wolves and the foxes had taken to reserving were lounge chairs as a single group, with the teenaged lovers off to one side while their parents sat together.

“Tanya would like to come back to this resort again next year.” Vanya said casually one day. Near the end of their stay.

“That would be nice.” Vikki replied. “Leslie really likes it here too. Perhaps we can both come at the same time?”

“I think the children would enjoy that.” The white wolf said. “I’m sure they will be sharing textings and emailings while they are apart. We can confirm it though them. Tanya wants to practice her English, anyway.”

“What a coincidence. Leslie has expressed an interest in learning Russian.”

The two females continued talking while Silver and Yuri sat silently nearby. When they overheard them making plans for next year they looked at each other and sighed.

“I guess that we are fated to become friends, Yuri.”

“You could do worse, Silver, and I come to this part of the country often, so it is easy for us.”

“You sure about that?” Silver asked, cocking his scarred eyebrow. “I hear that the Caribbean coast has better beaches.”

“What are you insinuating?” The wolf asked suspiciously.

“Oh, I just keep wondering where those terrorists got hold of those Russian satellite links and modern assault rifles. F.O.X. will probably be looking into it when I get back. Then the group the terrorists were affiliated with will be looking into all their local contacts and suppliers to see who tipped the, uh, ‘authorities’ off. Seems to me that anyone involved in that trade might want to avoid this part of the world, for a few years, anyway.”

Yuri frowned in silence as Silver leaned back in his chair and lowered his sunglasses. “So, what is it you said you do for a living again, Yuri?”

“You know, Silver, I am actually between careers at the moment.”