Chapter 1

Blackbox

Quiet. It was eerily quiet. Even though there was the constant drone of the crickets who were hidden in and amongst the tall grass, it felt quiet. Like looking at a photograph and hearing the sounds, but nothing ever moved in the portrait, remaining still as stone in the dim moonlight.

A flick of movement caught his eye, and Saul immediately reached into his jacket, grasping the tranquilizer gun secured under his arm by pure instinct. His eyes darted to the source only to see his partner adjusting his position a little ways away.

Saul, calm down! It's only him! Get a hold of your nerves before you end up shooting somebody! Quickly scanning the trees he was near, he picked out his fellow mammal, Gerry, by a cottonwood tree. If you weren't looking for him, you never would have spotted the arctic wolf in the tall grass. Two more hours and you'll be out of here with the package. You can do this.

Just then, he realized he'd been squeezing his tranq gun even harder under his jacket and he immediately released it, paw shooting to his lap. Tranqing himself in the side was one of the last things he wanted to do tonight, the other was waiting for the package.

Oh yeah! The package! His eyes darted away from where he had been looking at his comrade and back to the dark sky, scanning the ever still night for the slight hint of a high pitched whistle. Since they were far away from any place with other canines. What was it, Bunny Burrow, or some dumb place like that? Well, wherever they were, there weren't any other canines around. At least none that they knew of, so they could safely use a dog whistle as their signal.

He scanned the sky in vain hoping to spot the small drop plane against a canopy of stars. Anything to take his mind off what could happen, as any time he would let himself, he would start to imagine as many bad scenarios as his brain could, most of them unlikely, but some scarily possible.

What if the ZBI followed us out here, or maybe they got the dropman? Maybe they caught up to him in a busting plane and forced him to drop over water? Did he get lost? What's Klawper going to do if we fail?

The last question rang around in his head a few times, clearing everything else out except for the vivid images of what happened to the last mammal. He reached down and rubbed his ankles. Just thinking about that hurts…

A rock bounced off of his head and he nearly jumped into the tree above him. Jolting to attention with fear in his eyes, his head darted around like a top looking for ZBI agents armed with armfuls of pebbles, but he only saw his partner glaring at him over the tall grass. He realized that he was moving more than he was supposed to, enough to make his partner mad, and shot stock still instantly, closing his eyes tight.

OMIGOSH OMIGOSH OMIGOSH OMIGOSH OMIGOSH THEY SAW ME I KNEW IT THE ZBI FOLLOWED US AND I JUST GAVE US AWAY OMIGOSH OMIGOSH OMIGOSH! He silently panicked against the tree he was leaning against, keeping his eyes closed, listening.

...

Quiet.

...

He slowly cracked one eye, preparing to see mammals in black combat gear loading out of black vans, but instead, a field. A silent field. A silent, unmoving, not full of ZBI agents, field.

PHEW! His relief almost audible, he relaxed a little, but still made sure to stay still. Wow! I really am just a ball of nerves! Deep breaths, calm down, you'll be laughing about this tomorrow. See, look, empty field! He gave himself a reassuring nod. Absolutely nothing to be afraid of. Just a normal, quiet, grassy, nice, unthreat-HOLYMOTHEROF-!

Suddenly, an owl that had been sleeping in the tree above took flight, and the small fluttering noise of it's wings sent the little brown wolf flying from his hiding spot. He sprang up like someone had just filled his undies with hot coals and dove away from the tree as fast as he could. He tried to land with a roll, but instead got a muzzlefull of dirt as he face planted into the hard dusty ground, scrabbling hopelessly at his side for his tranq gun at the same time.

"IT'S THE ZBI! IT'S THE ZB-!" Before he could continue screaming at the top of his lungs and alerting literally every bunny in the area, Gerry tackled him to the ground, clamping his paw over Saul's muzzle in one smooth action. Rolling him so that he could sit on top of him, the wolf ducked low to try to hide his head in the tall grass. Saul tried his best to buck the larger wolf off, but to no avail.

"What are you thinking!" Even though it was a whisper, the venom in his voice was quite evident. "Are you trying to get us all killed! Or worse yet, make us fail!" Saul momentarily stopped writhing and screaming into the paw as he was reminded of the consequences for their failure. They both shared a silent shudder at the memory. Seeing that he had scared Saul enough to shut his trap, the other wolf slowly lifted his paw from his mouth.

"ZBI! ZB-!" He instantly clamped his paws around Saul's mouth again, trying his best to shut his idiot partner up, although it was no use, as he continued to writhe and scream under his grasp. This is going to be a really, REALLY, long night. Gerry thought to himself, trying to pin Sauls flailing arms with only one of his.

Finally, some quiet! Gerry thought as he made his way back to his spot under a large cottonwood tree and reclined against the rough bark. He resumed his task of listening for the whistle and waiting for the package he knew would come with it.

Scritch scritch. Scritch. Scritchscritchscritchscri- Gerry grabbed a rock near his feet and chucked it at Saul's head, hitting him right between the eyes. Saul could only whimper, as he was tied tightly to his tree to keep him from causing any more disturbances. He had been wiggling around in the ropes trying to find a more comfortable spot when a rock hit him in the head. Gerry glared at him with dangerous eyes. SHUT. UP. he mouthed the words while jabbing his finger in Saul's direction. Saul instantly held stock still at the threat, not wanting Gerry's rage upon him.

It doesn't matter if this is remote, we can't take any chances of being spotted. If he DARES to move just one more time, I WILL tranq him! He resumed listening and waiting. After a few moments, he glanced down at his watch, which was barely illuminated by the faint moonlight that was streaming down through the clouds. 4:43 am. If the package didn't get there soon, they would be forced to either leave empty handed, or risk being seen by farmers as they lugged it out suspiciously.

Gerry took a glance down at what he was wearing: black T-shirt, khakis, and a black leather jacket. Obviously not a farmer, obviously out of place to any mammal with half a brain. Saul was wearing a track jacket and pants with a T-shirt underneath, and unless he ran the two hundred or so miles to Bunny Burrow on his morning jog, he would stick out like an elephant at a vole convention.

Even if they could play off their looks, getting the package around would be more than suspicious. Gerry glared over his shoulder at the dark brown wolf tied to a tree, his frantic amber eyes scanning the skies a mile a minute. If that dope didn't run the side of a fence post and bend the axle of the crappy old van, we wouldn't have to lug the whole thing out by foot! Maybe we can stash it and search for a payphone…

Neither of them owned phones, as their line of work was dangerous, and phones could be tracked. We have plenty of contacts though, and if we could just reach somebody with a vehicle, I just might be able to get out of this whole mess for a little while. His gaze softened and he looked back up towards the sky.

Perhaps he flew too high? Or missed the spot? I wouldn't be surprised if that idiot forgot to blow the whistle again when he dropped it and we just missed seeing the chute. I mean, it's a pretty heavy package after all, it must have a big chute to get it to the ground without damaging anything.

He scanned the field for any hint of a parachute sticking out of the grass, but soon gave up on the idea. His night vision was pretty good, but he couldn't spot any hint of a disturbance in the waves of yellow grass. He glanced towards the horizon, where sunlight was beginning to crawl up into the sky. Any more light and they'll pick me out from a mile away. Stupid white fur! The arctic wolf looked down to his paws and the bright white fur that covered them. He'd tried dying it several times, but he was allergic to some of the chemicals in the dye, leaving him rashed from head to toe and even more dumb looking than before. Stupid genes. Maybe I just need to dress up like Spider Fox, all black, covering up all of this dumb white fur. Maybe I could be a supervillain. Yeah that'd be fun! I could call myself: Black Claws, oh oh, or maybe The Si-

His daydream hit a dead end when a familiar piercing sound met his ears, Instantly realizing what the noise meant. The plane! He looked upwards, searching the dimly lit sky for the small silhouette of the drop plane. After a brief moment of searching, he picked out a rapidly approaching plane, recognizing it as the usual B-57 Canbeara that made most of their drops. It was an old retired war plane, but it carried huge loads at exceptional speeds, so they used it for pretty much everything.

The jet seemed to be unusually high and fast, but it was at the right place at least. How on earth does he blow that whistle going 400 mph plus in a jet with no windows? It was the first time it had ever occurred to him. That weasel has his tricks.

As he sped across the sky, they could see a large black crate drop from its bomb bay, plummeting towards the ground at an amazing speed and tumbling through the air as it went. A large black parachute unfolded from it, slowing the crate down so that it could gently float down to the field. The rumble of the engines could barely be heard as he zoomed overhead and away, disappearing into the grey wispy clouds above them.

FINALLY! Gerry lept up from where he had been sitting in the grass for nearly five hours, happy for the freedom to move once again. He took a few bounding steps in the direction of the falling package before he remembered that he may need help carrying it. Oh! Saul! He spun around to see the smaller wolf still tied to a tree where he had left him, watching forlornly as the white wolf had bounded away. He jogged over to him and pulled at the complicated knot he had tied, able to undo it with only a few tugs here and there. Saul jumped up to his feet as soon as the last loop fell from around him, a big frown on his face.

"You didn't have to tie me up, you know!" He said hotly.

"And have you bounding around screaming about the ZBI? No way bud!"

A look of embarrassment came over the smaller wolf's face as he seemed to shrink into himself. "Let's just go get the thing, I wanna go home." And with that, the two companions jogged off to where the crate had now landed in the soft grass.

It's getting brighter, I hope we can heft it outta here before the ZBI shows up… Saul thought frantically as his head shot from left to right at light speed. Man, I hope it isn't heavy, because now we don't have the van… He thought back to a few hours ago. I could've sworn I saw a ZBI sniper in that corn field…

Finally, the duo of wolves reached the large black object. Saul nearly ran into the thing, lost in his own thoughts. Not surprising. Gerry thought to himself.

It only took him a second to realize their problem. The black painted crate was nearly as tall as Gerry, reaching to just under his muzzle, and at least as long as a decent sized truck. How were we supposed to get this thing in the van in the first place?! Leaning down to grab under the side boards of the crate, he tried to lift it. It came barely a few inches off the ground before he dropped it back onto the flattened grass beneath it, barely missing his paws. The contents clanked inside as it hit the ground again.

"How on earth are we supposed to walk all the way with this?!" Saul said, gesturing towards the hulking crate. Gerry gave him a dangerous look. "Well, for starters, we were supposed to have a van!" Getting louder through the sentence until the last part was almost a yell. "Why did I ever let you drive?!" Gerry said quite angrily.

"Well, excuse me for being the vigilant one!" Saul shot back with a sneer.

"Vigilant? Vigilant?! YOU THOUGHT A SCARECROW WAS A SNIPER!" Gerry yelled, letting out his pent up frustration on the whole situation, no longer aware of his volume.

"Well it's not my fault they decided to put a broom in his hands just like someone would hold a sniper rifle!" Saul said.

Gerry grabbed a stick that had been laying on the ground near him and held it out in an awkward position, which had it pointed at the ground behind him. "You think THIS is how you'd hold a sniper rifle?!" He said waving his arm around.

"Well, it could have been a camel!"

"What does it being a camel have to do with all this!"

"Well, you see, some camels have this genetic disorder that limits the full motion of the shoulder joint, so if he had-" Saul was cut off as Gerry threw the stick at him, hitting him in the arm. "Hey!" He said as he rubbed the spot where he had just been struck.

"Oh, shut up!" Gerry said. "We need to get back on task, or we won't ever get this crate moved. Now, I'm sure that there's a tractor in one of these barns, and if we can find a trailer-"

"But the tractor would be bunny size."

"We'll just have to sacrifice some comfort! Is that so bad!"

"But the trailer would be bunny size too, and I don't think a huge crate like this is even going to fit on it. How'd you plan on getting on the trailer anyways?" Saul said with an inquisitive look. Gerry's brow furrowed in frustration.

"We'll just have to find some car jacks somewhere!"

"But wouldn't they be-"

"Bunny sized! Yes! Now shut up so we can get this done!" Gerry yelled into his face. Saul recoiled, but said nothing else.

Sheesh! What's his problem! All I do is try to help him be informed, and all HE does is get mad at me! Why, if only I could choose my partner for myself, then maybe-

Saul never got to finish the thought, because as soon as he turned away from the crate to look for the nearest barn, he instead found himself staring at the pointed tips of a bunny sized pitchfork.

AN:

Hey guys! This is my first story, so I hope you enjoy! I'm open to constructive criticism, so lemme know what you think!

~hungrygiant