Arc II: Darker Matters

Part 3: Black as Onyx

For thirty minutes, all Fox felt were the cuffs around his hands, the black cloth over his head, and traces of the electric shock from earlier. The van's suspension vibrated beneath him, occasionally jolting his ribs as he lay on the floor behind the front seat. He focused his ears on the driver, but heard nothing from him or the person in the passenger seat, if there was such a person. For all he knew, the husky could have been the only individual in the van apart from him.

Then, the van slowed and turned off the road. The vehicle came to a complete stop a moment later; and as the driver shifted the van into park, Fox heard the sound of a garage door closing behind him. The side door slid open, and he felt a pair of furry hands reaching for the cloth that covered his head. Removing the blindfold, his captor pulled him out of the van and allowed him a few seconds to catch his balance. Fox wanted nothing more than to punish the husky for kidnapping him, but the cuffs around his wrist prevented him from acting on his desires. Still, he did consider fighting him with both of his hands literally tied behind his back.

Instead, he focused his eyes on his surroundings, which amounted to a dark, run-down complex that looked like it had been part of an automobile manufacturing facility at one point. Tens of lifeless, dust-covered machines lined rusted rails that had not moved in two decades. Flickering fluorescent bars cast a dismal amount of light into the otherwise black space that smelled of filthy water and oil. Every few seconds, water would drip from the ceiling, falling into a bucket on the floor below with a faint splash.

"What is this place?" Fox growled, locking eyes with the husky.

"Our hideout for now," the canine replied. "We never keep the same address for more than a week."

Having assumed that one of Anthracite's agents had abducted him, Fox took a step back in surprise and asked, "Who are you with?"

"If you were expecting me to be part of a massive operation, you'd be wrong. It's just me and two other guys. We used to have two more, but…well…"

"They died, didn't they?" Fox whispered.

The husky frowned. "Yes – both of them are no longer with us. One of them was killed in a blast, and the other…well…he just vanished. Never was quite right in the head, that one. Anyway, we call ourselves Onyx – not to be confused with Anthracite, since both of them are synonyms for 'black'. This place seems to fit our title."

Fox glanced at one of the machines on the assembly line. "Why did you bring me here? Why shoot me with a Taser and throw me into a van if you're not with Anthracite?"

The husky held up two fingers less than two millimeters away from each other. "It's because Anthracite was this close to nabbing you, and we weren't about to let that happen. You see, your success is our priority for right now."

Fox raised his eyebrows. "Say what?"

"We've been keeping tabs on you since the Northpoint incident. Your interest in Anthracite's dealings with the East Fortunan rebels managed to attract the attention of the Mac-Central intelligence agency, and in the process, it allowed us to gather some information on one of their spies."

"Just one of them? Is he that important?"

"Actually, it's a 'she'," the husky corrected. "She goes by the name 'Cassandra', and she's believed to have unusual abilities that would make her an enormous asset to any group that she was a part of. You managed to get her attention by rescuing your amphibious friend from Aquas, and we think that she may be after you even now."

Fox narrowed his eyes. "I thought you said Anthracite was after me. Why is this spy from Macbeth trying to hunt me down too?"

"Simple. Anthracite and the Macbeth government are cooperating on the East Fortuna weapons trafficking operation. Any information Cassandra gathers on Anthracite's interests gets sent to them by default. We believe that's how Anthracite managed to locate you in the first place."

"But how could they track me that perfectly after I'd only been in Golstave for thirty minutes?"

The canine opened his hand and turned it towards Fox. "Well, let me ask you this – did you give out any sensitive personal information over the phone or the internet to someone you didn't know? Have you visited any suspicious websites recently?"

Krystal's suggestive photographs crept back into his mind, even though he found nothing inherently suspicious about her website. "Maybe?" he replied, scratching his head. "I met a model in Aquas who suggested I look up her website, and I did that later. Other than that, I can't think of anything that could have possibly compromised my information. I keep that on a tight leash."

"Perhaps not tightly enough," the husky implied. "Anthracite broke into your room like they were absolutely certain that you were inside. It sounds to me like someone managed to access your computer's GPS location, which makes me almost positive that the website you visited was bugged by someone with ties to either Macbeth or Anthracite – possibly both. If you don't mind me asking, what did this model you met in Aquas look like?"

Crossing his arms, Fox described Krystal's appearance. "She had blue and white fur. That was the first thing I noticed about her. Very unusual. She was about my height, wore a purple dress, and had a really thick tail. Oh, and she also spoke with an accent – kind of like a Zoness accent, but not quite as thick."

The husky nodded. "I'll make a note of all that. Interestingly, we're already on the trail of someone who looks like what you described. It's only a matter of time before we catch up with her."

In response, Fox blurted out, "Please, don't hurt her," then felt shocked that he had responded that way.

His captor's eyes widened. "You know, there's a high percentage chance that she is Cassandra. I wouldn't put it past her to have been responsible for killing your team at Northpoint, at least in part. Don't let a person's looks deceive you. They can be sweet on the outside and even make you feel loved, and then turn and ram a knife into your back when you're not looking."

"You've got a point," Fox admitted. "What do you plan to do if you catch this 'Cassandra' person?"

"Use her to get more information on her superiors. Chances are that Cassandra is a low-level spy, but I guarantee she knows some of the higher-ups. If we can get closer to them, we'll be that much closer to our ultimate goal."

"Which is?" Fox asked.

"A former Cornerian scientist named Andross Bowman. The guy is inscrutable. Nothing about him ever gets out. We know he's doing something for Macbeth, but no one seems to know exactly what."

Fox locked eyes with the husky and told him, "He's developing weapons for them."

The Onyx soldier gave Fox a surprised stare. "You know about that?"

"My teammate told me," Fox replied.

"That's great, but there's got to be more to it than just the weapons. At heart, Andross is a biologist. He's got experience in engineering and chemistry, but life sciences were always his thing. And that's why I'm almost wondering if his work in developing weapons for the Macbeth military is just a cover for what he's really up to. But no one seems to know about it."

Fox recalled General Pepper telling him something about Andross attempting to create 'perfect species', but he felt that the hound dog would have preferred him to keep that knowledge to himself, especially since he had few reasons to trust the man from a unit that he had been completely unaware of until a minute ago. Somewhat disingenuously, he replied, "Well, if I find anything else about him, I'll let you know."

"Hmm. I'm sure you will," the canine smirked, knowing that Fox had no intention of doing that.

The silence inside the abandoned factory came to an end as a garage door opened. Turning his head towards the area where the husky had parked the black van, Fox watched as an identical vehicle pulled into the space next to it. After the engine came to a halt, a slender cheetah and a massive Alsatian climbed out of the two front seats and opened the sliding back door. Fox stood in shock at the beast's enormous physique. He looked like he could have reached 6'10" in terms of height, and Fox could hardly fathom how much he must have weighed. The canine reached into the rear storage area; and Fox held his breath while waiting to see who the second and third members of Onyx had abducted. As much as he liked Slippy, he admitted to himself that he hoped Scarlet would emerge from the van.

To his disappointment, it was Slippy.

The husky standing next to Fox stepped behind him and unlocked his handcuffs, then walked towards the second van and motioned for Fox to follow him. While the hulking shepherd dog set Slippy down and pulled the cloth from over his head, Fox asked the husky, "Did you get anyone else, like a red vixen? She was in my room before I left."

The husky stopped and shook his head. "Sorry, pal. If she was in there, Anthracite probably got to her first."

Fox bared his teeth. "What do you think they did with her?"

"It all depends. There are a few things that they might have done. They were after you, so if they broke into your room and didn't find you in it, they might have decided to take her instead."

"What does that mean for her?" Fox demanded.

"Well, I'd either expect them to put a ransom on her or just kill her outright. Or, if she's really good looking…well…"

Burning with anger and disgust, Fox snarled, "Oh, they'd better not… Then again, she might actually enjoy that."

The husky raised his eyebrows. "That sounds like someone I used to know. Was her name Scarlet, by any chance?"

Fox's face lit up. "How do you know her?"

In response, the canine gave him a nervous grin. "I'll tell you about it later, but for right now, head over to that table and meet the rest of the team. We've got some things to discuss with you and your friend."

Fox followed his captor to a rusting metal lunch table in the corner of the garage area. The two other Onyx members seated themselves with their backs to the cinder block wall next to Slippy, leaving the other bench for Fox and the husky.

"I apologize for how you got here. I would have preferred just asking you to come with us, but I had the feeling you'd ask too many questions or put up resistance," said the husky. "I'm Hartmann, the leader of this team." He pointed to the massive Alsatian next to Slippy and explained, "He's Vincent, and the cheetah next to him is Xavier. Together, we exist to keep a watchful eye on mercenary activities throughout the planet Lylat."

Fox turned his head and asked Hartmann, "Are you an NGO, or are you with an intelligence group?"

"There's not a clear answer for that. The best way I can explain it is this – we sell secrets, specifically ones related to the many PMCs that operate in the planet's more 'turbulent' areas. Keeping tabs on mercenary operations allows us to subliminally influence world affairs, since most PMCs are contracted by governments. Sometimes our work leads us into the employment of smaller Third World dictatorships like Ichtos, and other times we sell our information to the superpowers. Everything we do is based on our own concept of justice – we rarely sell out to the highest bidder. We like to think it's for the better."

"Unfortunately," he continued, "Our history of being willing to work for pretty much anybody we want to has put us into a dangerous spot. When a government intelligence agency that we just worked with finds out that we sold one of their contacts' information to their enemies, things can get deadly. That's why we never keep the same base of operations for more than a week. We're nomads, but we wouldn't have it any other way."

Fox nodded in the most insincere way possible and commented, "I feel so safe right now."

Hartmann frowned. "You should. We've been doing this for seven years, and we haven't been caught yet."

From across the table, the enormous shepherd growled, "Captain, get on with the real reason we're here already."

"Sorry, Vincent. He asked me, so I had to explain," Hartmann answered, waving his comrade off. "Anyway, part of the reason we abducted both of you was not only to save you from Anthracite, but also because your goals line up perfectly with ours. We believe the collusion between Macbeth and Anthracite is far more sinister than anyone originally thought, and it's reaching a boiling point. Here – take a look at this. Xavier, hand me your computer."

The cheetah sitting across from him reached into a black bag on the ground and produced a white laptop, which he handed to Hartmann. Opening the screen, the husky turned the computer in Fox's direction and pointed at one corner of the grainy, black and white image on the display.

Fox's eyes widened. "A stash of chemical weapons?"

Nodding, Hartmann replied, "That photograph was taken from inside Anthracite Security's storehouse with one of the base's security cameras. Thanks to Xavier, we now have an idea of what they're shipping to East Fortuna. But the real question here is 'why'?"

Fox's eyes wandered into space, and his mind recalled his father's concerned statement from earlier.

"…As it stands now, the numbers heavily favor us. That's why I'm starting to get uncomfortable."

Hartmann's voice brought Fox's attention back to the present. "I'm concerned that the East Fortunan forces may already have some of these weapons in their possession. But even if they do, they can't be allowed to get any more of them. The only problem is that we don't have enough evidence to prove the existence of the weapons to West Fortuna or Corneria. All we have is this grainy picture, and it's still kind of ambiguous as to what the weapons even are. It's likely that they are in fact chemical, but no one can know for sure until we have more leads. But we don't have the time for that."

"So, what are you suggesting?" Fox asked.

"We have to do one of two things. One – either we find a way to keep Anthracite's cargo planes from taking off and delivering the cargo, or two – we place a tracker on one of the planes to see where it goes. From all accounts, no one knows where they're delivering the weapons. The Cornerian Navy is patrolling the Eastern Ocean in hopes that they'll spot the cargo planes, but as far as I know, nothing's shown up yet. I have a strong suspicion that they're not delivering the weapons to Fortuna. The only three major landmasses that can be accessed from the western continent are Fortuna, Corneria, and Fichina. I'm banking on Fichina as the delivery location. There's nothing on the eastern part of the landmass. It's a huge island north of Fortuna, and because of the ice sheets, the Navy's warships can't get close to it."

Fox nodded to Slippy as a way of congratulating him for coming to a similar conclusion beforehand, then asked Hartmann, "How are we supposed to stop the planes or put trackers on them? Infiltrate the base?"

"I don't see another way to do it, especially if you want any chance at getting your friend back."

Vincent sneered, "Are you kidding me? When did you ever care so much about rescuing a hostage – especially if it's going to put us all in that much danger?"

Hartmann narrowed his eyes and pointed at his teammate. "The difference here is that I owe this hostage a favor."

Xavier rolled his eyes and rested his chin on his hand. "This has to do with that one time last year when you met that girl at the casino, disappeared into the Lotus Eater motel for the whole night, and refused to answer any of our calls, doesn't it?"

Hartmann blushed furiously. "Yes. It does."

"I'm going to have to hear about this," said Fox.

"Later," Hartmann replied once again. "Can we just put that aside for a moment and focus on what needs to be done with the weapons?"

"Sure," Xavier mocked, then whispered to Vincent, "He needs to think with his other head for once."

Vincent shook his head. "Tell me about it."

"Shut up, you two," Hartmann frowned. "We need to go over every schematic of the Anthracite base so we can plan our infiltration."

For the first time, Slippy spoke up. "Ooh! An infiltration! I've always wanted to be part of one of those."

Xavier glared at him evilly. "The only thing you'll be infiltrating is the refrigerator in the back room, Fatty."

Slippy bared his gums, because as a frog, he had no teeth – at least, not unless one looked closely enough. "Seriously, you wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

"Oh, is that so? Are you going to get even fatter and then Toad Smash me?" Xavier laughed.

At that moment, Slippy's face took on a malevolent property that Fox never thought he would see from him. Considering that Xavier was in the seat next to him, Slippy grabbed his collar and yanked him off the bench. Stunned, Xavier hit the concrete floor behind him and tried sitting up, but not quickly enough to prevent Slippy from leaping off the bench and onto his stomach.

"How do you like me now?" he shouted, punching the feline in the muzzle with both fists so rapidly that his arms almost resembled blurs. His continued attacks prevented Xavier from responding, but it didn't seem to prevent Slippy from demanding that Xavier answer his question. Suddenly, Slippy felt like he could fly. With no effort whatsoever, he ascended into the air. But then, he realized what had actually happened as he turned around against his own will and found himself staring into Vincent's angry green eyes while being held up by his jacket's collar.

He thrashed his limbs, but Vincent held him far enough away from his body to prevent him from injuring anything but himself. From Fox's perspective, Slippy looked like a baby compared to the enormous shepherd, and his attempts to escape the canine's grasp were equally pathetic. Despite his best efforts, Fox burst out laughing along with Hartmann, who slapped the table and chuckled so violently that Fox thought he might cry.

Vincent failed to see anything funny about Slippy's actions. After a moment, he set him down, but not before showing his teeth and letting out his disapproval with a feral snarl. While Slippy shuffled over to Fox, Xavier brushed himself off and reclaimed his seat. "Dammit! He hits hard!"

"I warned you," Slippy replied, crossing his arms.

"Sorry that I didn't believe you. But still, the Captain had better not assign me with you for this job."

Still trying and failing to suppress his residual laughter, Hartmann glanced at Xavier and stated, "Actually, I was planning on that. Thanks to your work, we know that the base has been experiencing some issues with its security system. Before I kidnapped Fox, I managed to find the contractor who's scheduled to work on the system. He's supposed to arrive at the base tomorrow at 1000 hours. We'll find a way to detain him while you and "Fatty" pose as IT experts and gain access to the facility in his place. From reading Slippy's intel file, I know he's responsible for putting together quite a few of the base's security features. If we can get him inside, it'll make the mission that much easier."

Xavier's expression fell. Attempting to come up with anything that could conceivably prevent him from having to work with Slippy, he suggested, "But they'll recognize him. He's worked with them before."

"He'll have to use a disguise, of course," Hartmann replied. "I had planned on that from the beginning. I'll let him decide what he wants to do about it."

Slippy looked in his direction. "I've got a few ideas. You got any scrap metal around here?"

Hartmann locked eyes with Xavier, whose face bore a crestfallen, terrified countenance. Then, he glanced to his right and answered Slippy. "This used to be a car factory, so there should be some lying around."

"Great! I'll get right to work," said Slippy, walking away from the table and into the cavernous expanse that defined the main factory floor.

With Slippy out of earshot, Hartmann lowered his head and whispered, "This may have been a bad idea."

"No shit, Slylock," Xavier huffed, standing up and claiming his laptop, which sat in front of Hartmann. Then, he stuffed it into his shoulder bag and walked in the direction of the van that he had arrived in.

Looking at Fox out the corner of his eye, Hartmann explained, "He'll get over it eventually. He doesn't like to work with other people – that's all."

"Then why don't you let him work by himself here?" Fox asked.

"Simple – because your friend has the skills and knowledge we need to make this work. The whole mission is dependent on him."

Fox cringed and covered one of his eyes with his hand. "I'm not sure I like that."

"Neither do it," Hartmann replied. "But it has to be done. Our first course of action tomorrow is to intercept the contractor who's supposed to fix Anthracite's security system. We can do it a number of ways, but the quieter it is, the better. Then, after Slippy and Xavier enter the base, we'll get in touch with them and figure out a way to get in. With the security system undergoing maintenance, we won't have any trouble accessing the rooms inside the complex. That might even include the weapons storehouse."

"Don't get your hopes up," Fox warned. "I know the leader of Anthracite. He's smart enough not to have his most important room protected by only one system."

"I was just trying to be optimistic. I agree with you, though."

Across the table, Vincent growled, "What are we supposed to do after we get in? Sabotage the planes, or track them? There's a pretty big difference."

Hartmann brought his hand to his muzzle and scratched it. "Hmm…I think placing trackers on the planes is a better bet. That way, the West Fortunan and Cornerian armies will finally know where to go to put a stop to the weapons trafficking."

"Works for me," the oversized canine replied, sliding out of the table's bench. "Unless you've got something else to say, I'm going to head to the Burger Joint with Xav for some lunch. You want anything?"

Hartmann paused for thought, then answered, "I'll have the small version of whatever you're getting. You might as well pick up something for Fox and Slippy, too. Don't worry, I'll pay you back."

"Fine," Vincent muttered before climbing into one of the vans and starting the engine. The garage door behind him crawled open, allowing him to back out. Seconds later, the overhead door closed again and left Fox and Hartmann to themselves. Somewhere in the bowels of the factory, Fox thought he heard the sound of sparks flying.

"Can Slippy even eat a cheeseburger?" asked Hartmann.

Fox snickered. "I think with him, if there's a will, there's a way when it comes to food."

"I hear you. Still, I want to see him do that."

A smile crept onto Fox's face as the thought of Slippy attempting to eat a cheeseburger entered his mind. But then, he recalled Hartmann's unexplained history with his vixenly friend. Sliding closer to the husky, he lowered his voice and asked, "So, how do you know Scarlet? And do you really think she's in Anthracite's base?"

"If she's alive, she's probably in there. If anything, they may be trying to use her as bait. If you check your email anytime soon, you might find a ransom notice or something like that. Unfortunately, that might be hard to do because we destroyed your computer when we raided your room. You're welcome."

Rage filled Fox's eyes. "What the hell? Why would you do that? Oh wait…the tracking bug."

"Correct. However, we did save your hard drive, so your data isn't gone. We also took your bags with us when we went through your room. You definitely don't want to be going back to the hotel anytime soon.

"You got that right," Fox huffed. "I'm still ticked off that Scarlet took the fall for all of this."

Hartmann opened his hands. "It is what it is, Fox. Don't worry – if she's in that base, I'll do everything I can to make sure she gets out alive."

"Thanks. I get the feeling you're doing it for yourself, though."

Hartmann sighed and shook his head. "You're right. You see, Scarlet and I met at a casino last year and hooked up for one night at the same hotel that you were staying at. We had a good time, but we both knew that it would never work for the two of us to stay together. Still, since then, I've felt like I owe her something. I was going through a depression after losing my fiancée on a mission, and Scarlet helped take my mind off of it."

His face solemn, Fox glanced at the husky. "You lost your wife, too?"

"We're not that different, are we, Fox?" Hartmann asked in response. "I'm not going to make that same mistake again – the mistake of putting the person I love the most in harm's way on a daily basis. If I find another mate, it'll be after I'm finished with Onyx."

Fox nodded in agreement, then thought about Scarlet. "If a little romance with her helped this guy after his wife was killed, maybe it would work for me too? But then again, the two of them could never make a real relationship work. I don't think Scarlet would be happy with anything less than that with me. Am I stupid for actually considering that?"

As before, his father's advice from earlier entered his mind. "…I would recommend spending more time with her if it's good for your mental state…I know it's the last thing on your mind, but don't be afraid if things with her start becoming romantic. Whatever happens, happens – just do anything that helps you recover quicker."

Confused, he asked himself, "Was my dad trying to play matchmaker with me and Scarlet from the beginning? I know that he really likes her, and he has for years. He said that Fara was perfect for me, but I can't help but wonder if he really wanted Scarlet for me instead."

While Fox sifted through his thoughts, Hartmann nudged him and said, "Hey, I'm going to look over the base schematics while I wait for Vince and Xav to bring back lunch. Give me a holler if you need anything."

Startled, Fox jumped back into reality. "Oh…sure."

While the husky left the table and walked towards a workbench fifty feet away, Fox leaned forward and boarded his train of thought again. Then, his ears perked up at the sound of Hartmann's phone ringing. Glancing at the canine out of the corner of his eye, he listened as he answered the call.

"Hello? What is it? What? She's here? Vincent, don't let her out of your sight. Capture her and bring her to me, no questions asked. Got it? Good."

While Hartmann ended the call and slid his phone back into his pocket, Fox asked, "Was that who I think you were talking about?"

"Yes," Hartmann replied, turning around and facing Fox. "With all luck, we'll have ourselves a new source of intel within the hour. If Vince and Xav can capture her and bring her here, I'll make sure you get the chance to thank her for your computer virus."

A faint, grim smile appeared on Fox's face. "Thanks. I'll make sure to do that."


AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):

Onyx is back! But they've got a very different role here, and there's no Carmine or Ling in this one - they're over in Parallax. By this point, I'm starting to run out of Iridium OCs to reuse.

To be honest, I had started to put together a plan for this story, but then I had the idea to throw in that last bit at the end. That changes everything, and now I'm writing by the seat of my pants again. To paraphrase something I read in a PM regarding Parallax, I'm digging a hole and hoping there's a jetpack at the bottom.

Also, I've got a new poll on my profile page. It might not have an effect on the story, but I'm curious to see what the results will be. The question is 'which vixen would you - the reader - prefer Fox to end up with?' Krystal, Scarlet, or...both.

By the way - XxSanitariumxX and Nail Strafer: I had originally planned for Krystal's website to be completely virus-free, but your reviews prompted me to change that. So, having said that, be careful what you put in your reviews, because I might just make it happen - or vice versa. Don't stop leaving reviews, though!