Arc II: Darker Matters

Part 6: The Van on Fire

After a rough night filled with nightmares, haunting memories, and worst-case scenarios related to Scarlet's situation, Fox awoke in the back of Onyx's van. Under normal circumstances, he would have struggled to get up after such a poor night of sleep, but because real life offered him more of an escape from his pain than his dreams did, he brushed off any thoughts of going back to sleep. Turning around and opening the van's side door, he stepped out of the vehicle and walked towards the lunch table.

He noticed Krystal, still seated with her back to the wall. However, this time, her spirit looked hopelessly and irrepressibly crushed. She kept her head lowered to her chest and refused to make a sound. Meanwhile, the three members of Onyx chatted amongst themselves at the table. Their serious, quiet voices suggested to Fox that their conversation centered either on Krystal's secrets or on the upcoming mission. Not wanting to intrude on them, he leaned against the side of the van and looked on.

However, Hartmann happened to glance over his shoulder and notice him. Breaking the conversation, he motioned for Fox to join them. Just then, Miyu emerged from the main factory floor area with a silly grin on her muzzle. "Guys – you're not going to believe what Slippy did to himself."

Xavier immediately cringed. "Oh no."

Approaching the lunch table, Fox looked towards Miyu and asked, "What did he do?"

"You're going to have to see it to believe it. I knew he'd need a disguise if he wanted to get into the base without reminding people of himself, but he took it to another level."

Fox raised an eyebrow, then commented, "You sure changed sides quickly. You were trying to kill us yesterday, and now you're trying to help us?"

"Hey – as I told you and Stoneface, I had been trying to get out of Anthracite ever since my douchebag ex-boyfriend cheated on me. I want my revenge."

Xavier pointed a finger at her, and with a distrustful look in his eyes, he muttered, "You'd better not try to pull something on us. Trust me, you'll regret it."

"I'm not pulling anything – except the stick that's up your ass, maybe," she replied.

Xavier bared his razor sharp teeth and started pushing himself out of his seat, but then a sound entered the garage. The noise contained a faint squeak, combined with the purr of an electric motor and the whirring sound of wheels. "Oh! Here he comes!" Miyu squealed, looking out of the garage and trying not to keel over in laughter. A moment later, a wheelchair rolled into the garage.

Fox tried not to laugh, but he – along with everyone else at the table – failed miserably. Although he struggled to keep his eyes focused on the source of the uproar, he managed to get a good look at Slippy and his ridiculous creation. The amphibian sat in a metal-flake blue wheelchair replete with chrome rims. An odd-looking implement jutted out from the back, and for the moment, Fox had no concept of what it did. But Slippy himself instigated far more laughter than his 'swag chair' did. Covered from head to toe with blue and black paint to make himself look like a poison arrow tree frog, he bore almost no resemblance his normal self.

A silver bike helmet with blue flames completed his ludicrous disguise, which contained the black shirt and black cargo pants that he had been wearing beforehand along with a tacky pair of dark sunglasses.

Amidst bursts of laughter, Fox gasped, "Slippy! What the…?"

Before Fox had the chance to finish his question, Slippy interrupted with a sensuous, baritone voice that caused everyone in the room to become silent out of mere shock. "I don't know who this 'Slippy' person is. I'm Skidd – Skidd Marx, that is. I'm here to give your computers my – shall we say – 'special touch'. You knoooow they want it."

"Fuck my life," Xavier lamented.

Seated next to the big cat on the bench, Hartmann clapped him on the shoulder and whispered, "It'll be over soon enough. Just hang in there, buddy."

Although Fox, Miyu, and Hartmann struggled to contain themselves, Vincent found little to laugh about. Folding his arms, he stood next to the lunch table and asked, "What does that idiotic wheelchair do?"

'Skidd' suddenly leaped out of the wheelchair and held out his hands as if to give Vincent a warning. "Look what you've done now. You've offended it!"

In front of the group's eyes, the wheelchair brandished its arm-like rear appendage and brought it forward. Only then did they realize that it contained a small missile launcher. Vincent growled in frustration, refusing to believe that he had actually managed to anger a wheelchair, of all things.

Then, the machine played a hoarse, robotic voice clip. "Suck my missile, punk."

"No! Don't do it, D-Wheelchair!" Skidd protested, jumping in front of the chair and waving his stubby blue arms about.

The wheelchair froze. Then, it retracted its missile launcher and replied, "Command accepted, O Glorious Exalted Supreme Master of the Circuit Board."

Fox pictured lines of unamused bystanders performing a long, slow golf clap in the garage. "D-Wheelchair? What's that supposed to mean?"

In the same low voice that he had introduced himself with (and never abandoned, for that matter), 'Skidd' purred, "It's a mystery, just like me and my magic touch that can turn a floppy disk into a hard drive with just one swipe of the hand."

Xavier considered pulling his handgun out of its holster and shooting himself. "Please, Fox – make him shut up. I'm going to lose my mind."

Finding Slippy's blue alter ego nearly as annoying as Xavier did, he nodded at the cheetah and walked towards 'Skidd.' "Slippy, can you tone it down a bit? This is really ridiculous. I think you took it too far this time."

The amphibian placed his hands on his hips and announced, "Skidd Marx don't break no character!"

"Alright, then. This is happening now," Fox huffed, marching over to D-Wheelchair and gripping one of its chrome wheel covers. To "Skidd's" chagrin, he tugged on it and ripped it clean off the rim. Throwing it across the room, he marched around to the other wheel and did the same. After disposing of the garish covers, he glared at 'Skidd' and demanded, "Take off that ridiculous helmet. Why would you need that for a wheelchair?"

Slippy's voice returned to normal. "Because it's a high performance wheelchair."

"Listen, Slippy. This is a serious operation we're about to start. If you're not going to take it seriously, I'm going to make you stay here and wait for us to finish."

"Fox! Please do that!" Xavier hollered.

"Ignore him," Fox continued. "I know you need a disguise so Anthracite will let you into the base, but you've got to tone it down. Can you do that?"

Slippy unlatched his helmet and nodded, albeit with a disappointed face. "Sure thing, Fox."

Fox turned his back on Slippy and walked back to the lunch table while the frog scooted out of the garage in his wheelchair and disappeared into the main factory. As he neared the table, his eyes wandered towards Krystal. He could tell that she was awake and alert, but her body language made her seem almost comatose. Although Xavier had cleaned her wound after removing the bullet from her leg, a sizeable blood stain covered the lower part of her purple dress. He stared at her for several seconds, assuming that she couldn't have cared less about him admiring her. Then, to his surprise, she opened her eyes and focused them on him. He looked away and glanced at Hartmann, only for his ears to pick up on the woman's voice. Except that his ears heard nothing at all – her voice seemed to penetrate straight to his mind.

"Please – don't let them kill me. I know they want to do it. If you help me, I promise that I'll do anything you want me to. You can trust me, Fox."

Trying to avoid drawing attention to himself, he turned his head towards Krystal and stared at her as if he had encountered a supernatural being among mere mortals. "Are you a telepath?" he asked, using his thoughts and directing them towards her.

Krystal replied with a faint nod. "Don't tell the others. They'll do terrible things to me if they find out."

Fox frowned. "Why should I try to keep them from killing you? You tried to have me assassinated, and Scarlet's in Anthracite's base right now because of you. I know you'll turn on me if I give you any leeway."

Physically, Krystal curled up into a fetal position and hid her eyes from the world, while in her thoughts, she broadcasted a sorrowful message to Fox. "I don't have anywhere to go anymore. These people made me tell them everything about my superiors, and my commander disowned me in the warehouse yesterday. The husky and the shepherd are going to kill me – I can feel it in their thoughts. You're the only person who can do anything to stop them."

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"Can you take me with you when you leave this place?" Krystal pleaded.

Fox looked away from her and folded his arms. "I'll have to think about it."

Sighing, he turned his attention towards the three people seated around the table. Still in shock after discovering Krystal's disturbing ability, he zoned out for a moment. That is, until Hartmann addressed him. "What's on your mind, Fox? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Oh…I, um…" Fox jumped, scratching the back of his head. "I was just wondering what was going to happen to Krystal."

Hartmann looked across the table at Vincent, then stood up and whispered into Fox's ear, "Xavier doesn't want to do it, but Vincent and I were planning to kill her. We got all of her information out earlier this morning, and she's just going to become a problem if we don't do anything about her. I reason that it's better to kill her than to turn her into the authorities. She'll be less miserable that way. I say that one quick shot to the head is a lot kinder than years of torture behind bars in a Cornerian black site. You know how those intelligence agencies can be when they're not dealing with their own people. Still, I told Xav that I'd leave it up to you."

Fox admitted that his host had a logical point. For a moment, he wondered if he would have come to the same conclusion if he had been in Hartmann's boots. Nevertheless, something about the feverish pitch of Krystal's internal voice stabbed something soft inside of him. He hesitated for an awkward moment when he felt the sensation of Krystal's distress inside his mind. Then, he told Hartmann, "I'll take her with me when I leave Katina – assuming the Anthracite job goes well."

Hartmann looked at Fox like he had lost his mind. "You do know that she's been trying to kill you, right?"

"Yeah, but I don't think she's much of a threat right now. Just look at her. Not only that, but her boss pretty much gave her the boot in front of us, if you remember."

"That's true," Hartmann admitted, "But I still think taking her with you is a terrible idea. What do you plan on doing with her after you leave Katina? You know what would happen if you turned her into the Cornerian government, and I already went over why I think it would be better to just shoot her now."

Vehemently, Fox replied, "I'll figure something out. I'm going to take one thing at a time for right now."

"All right – if you say so," Hartmann chuckled. "Good luck with her, Fox. I really hope she doesn't get her hands on a knife and kill you."

Fox held his tongue while the husky turned his back and walked towards one of the vans. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Krystal open her eyes and look at him. He noticed the gentle, grateful expression on her lips, then heard her mental approval of his actions. "Thank you, Fox. I promise that I won't kill you."

"That's comforting," Fox joked in response. His eyes lingered on the vixen's figure for an extra moment, eventually fixing themselves on the large blood stain that covered the lower part of her dress.

Noticing where Fox's gaze had landed, she mentally asked him, "By any chance, do you have any extra clothes you could give me to wear? This dress is disgusting."

Fox's thoughts drifted to Scarlet's suitcase in the back of Onyx's second van; and as much as he liked the idea of seeing Krystal wearing one of Scarlet's catsuits, he had the feeling that she would be less than thrilled about the prospect of slipping into one even though her current outfit was caked in dried blood. "There are some clothes in Scarlet's suitcase, but almost all of them are catsuits. I don't think you'd want to wear those."

Krystal flashed him a devious grin. "You might be surprised. Can you carry me to the van?"

Fox knew both Vincent and Hartmann would rebuke him for his actions, but in his mind, he saw no harm in letting Krystal change out of her soiled clothes. He stepped towards Krystal and picked her off the ground, prompting Vincent to turn around in his seat and bark, "Hey! What are you doing?"

"I'm taking her to the van so she can put on some clean clothes," Fox replied.

Next to the first van, Hartmann turned around and glared daggers at Fox. "If you're going to do that, you've got to get into the van with her. I am not going to risk even the slightest chance of her pulling a crowbar or something out of the back and trying to escape with it. You hear me?"

"I got it," Fox replied. Still surprised by how little Krystal weighed, he reached the second van and pulled the side door open. He placed her on the floor inside the vehicle and closed the door before crawling into the back of the van where Scarlet's suitcase rested. Wrestling the heavy bag into the area behind the front seats, he turned his attention to Krystal and looked into her eyes. "I'm going to untie you so you can get changed. Please don't do anything that would make me change my mind about taking you with me."

"I won't."

Holding his breath and hoping that Krystal would keep her word, Fox untied the ropes holding her hands and feet together. The instant the twine fell from her limbs, she stretched on the floor and let out a deep, pleasurable breath. She feathered the hem of her dress and crossed her arms, but stopped when she noticed Fox averting his eyes. "Fox. Haven't you seen my pictures on the internet? I'm pretty sure you don't need to look away. Besides, I'm wearing my underwear today."

Fox's ears turned red. "I was just trying to be respectful."

"How kind of you," Krystal replied with a smile, grabbing the bottom of her dress and pulling it over her head. She tossed the blood-stained garment into the back of the van, then set to work unzipping Scarlet's suitcase. With the zipper opened, she folded over the top of the suitcase and peered inside. "Wow, you were right about the catsuits," she laughed. "Does she wear these things for everything?"

"Pretty much," Fox replied, trying to mask the frustration in his voice that came from the knowledge of Krystal's complicity in Scarlet's capture. Krystal pretended not to notice said frustration and dug through the contents of Scarlet's suitcase until her hand latched onto something. "I wonder what these are for?" she teased, holding up a mostly-empty package of AA batteries.

Fox cringed. "You might want to be careful where you put your hands in there."

"It's too late for that," Krystal groaned. "I should have just pulled out the first catsuit that I saw." Shaking her head, she pulled out a stretchy garment that matched her fur color. To Fox's surprise, when she held it up, he noticed that unlike Scarlet's normal catsuits, this one lacked a turtleneck collar. Instead, it sported a plunging neckline designed to reveal a substantial part of the wearer's chest, thereby making it even more provocative than Scarlet's usual attire.

Fox had no time to dissuade Krystal from trying it on as she wriggled into the blue catsuit and then pulled on the matching blue boots that went with it. Although it proved to be difficult, she managed to reach the tiny zipper in the back and seal herself into the taut-fitting suit without Fox's help. With her work completed, she zipped up Scarlet's suitcase again and leaned against the van's side door. "I look ridiculous, don't I?

"Not as much as you think," Fox replied. "I have a hard time picturing Scarlet wearing that, but it works on you. Just keep in mind that everyone is going to be staring at you when you leave the van."

"Everyone stares at me anyway. It's part of the curse of having naturally blue fur and being allergic to one of the main ingredients in fur dye," Krystal countered. "Hey – this feels comfortable. It's like wearing a glove. I think I could get used to this. Do you know where I could get one of these?"

"I don't think I want to know," Fox replied before he changed the subject. "I'm going to have to tie you up again so you can't try to escape while we take care of business with Anthracite. I'll be back for you in a few hours."

Krystal looked back at him with a pair of fearful eyes. "What if you don't make it back?"

"I hate to say it, but you'll probably starve to death if we all die or you'll be killed if I die and Hartmann or Vincent make it through. So…you'd better hope that I make it back."

He felt a tremor of fear shoot through his mind and recognized it as Krystal's fear, not his own. "I've had a pretty good run so far, though," he suggested, hoping to comfort her. "I'm not worried. The guys in Onyx are good, and I've dealt with tougher situations than this before."

"If you say so, Fox," Krystal grumbled. Fox reached for the ropes that Krystal had discarded, then tied her hands and feet together. He hated to do it, but he – and everyone else in the factory – knew that if she was allowed to roam freely, she would eventually find a way to escape. With the vixen bound, he opened the van and climbed out, carrying her in his arms. Hartmann stole a glance at her and raised an eyebrow as Fox carried her back to her position behind the lunch table.

When Fox had finished setting Krystal down, Hartmann called out to him. "It's nine, Fox. We've only got an hour until the IT tech is scheduled to arrive at Anthracite's base. The base itself is a thirty minute drive from here, so we need to hurry. Vincent, Xavier, Miyu, and Slippy will take the second van while we take the first up to the IT tech's current location. We're going to do a bit of sabotage to keep him from getting to the base. After that, we'll all pile into Vincent's van and use that one to get into the facility."

Xavier looked up from the table in front of him and spoke, "You realize that Anthracite isn't stupid. They're probably going to check the back of the van for suspicious cargo the instant we get into the base. Do you have any plans for that?"

Hartmann answered without hesitation. "I considered that, and I've got an idea. While Fox and I sabotage the IT tech's van, you and everyone else head to the nearest office supercenter and ask them for the largest cardboard boxes they've got. After we meet up, we'll hide inside the boxes – which you'll tape up, of course. After you get into the base with Slippy and Miyu, you and Slippy need to make sure that the boxes get brought into the base with a hand truck. Say something like 'They've got important equipment in them that we need to do our work' or something generic but kind of believable like that."

"It's not a completely idiotic idea," Xavier conceded. "I'm still concerned about Slippy, though. There's no way they'll recognize him, but he still has me worried."

"If I'm honest, I'm worried too," Hartmann replied, crossing his arms. "It's something we'll have to get around, though."

Seated on the lunch table's bench next to Xavier, Vincent grunted, "Hey boss – what do you want me to do?"

The husky leaned against the side of the van and paused for thought. "Unfortunately, you look too suspicious, and you're way too big to fit inside a cardboard box, so you're not going to be coming into the base with us. When we meet up, take my van and hide it in the bushes somewhere near the Anthracite base. Stand by in case we need you, and be ready for anything."

The Alsatian gave his leader a grim nod, then looked over his shoulder at Krystal. "What about her?"

"Fox told me to leave her alive," said Hartmann. "Xavier will shoot her full of anesthesia before we leave so she won't be able to do anything until we get back. That should take care of that problem."

"I still think we should just kill her," Vincent thought to himself. "Although that catsuit looks a little too good on her…"

Fox noticed Hartmann climbing into the first van and jogged towards the vehicle while the husky started the engine and pressed a button on his overhead visor that opened the garage door behind him. He opened the side door, then climbed in and clipped in his seatbelt. Hartmann reversed the van out of the factory and onto the mostly silent road that ran in front of it. Closing the garage door, he accelerated the van to its cruising speed and exhaled.

At the first red light that he encountered, he wasted no time in entering the IT tech's address into the van's GPS system. The touchscreen froze for two seconds, then displayed a relatively straight route that estimated their time of arrival as 9:20. "We're only going to have about a five minute window of opportunity to sabotage the tech's van," he warned Fox.

Fox looked back at him. "What are we going to do? And who's going to do what?"

The traffic light turned green. After reaching the posted speed limit, Hartmann reached behind him and produced a set of heavy-duty bolt cutters. "One of us is going to get under the van and sever the wire leading from the battery to the starter solenoid. Whoever isn't doing that needs to loiter near the tech's front door and pester him if he comes out prematurely. It shouldn't take long, so there's no need to strike up a big conversation with him."

"I'm not that great with car parts," Fox admitted. "You'd better handle that part of it."

"Fair enough. You make sure that he stays detained if he leaves his office before we're ready."

"Got it. Something about this just doesn't feel right, though."

Hartmann gave Fox a faint smile. "I take it that you're not used to doing mercenary work that involves taking jobs outside of the battlefield." Fox shook his head, prompting Hartmann to add, "There's tons of freelance work out there, but most mercs will never find it because it looks too much like the work of a petty thief or an outlaw."

"Hmph. Now I think I know how Scarlet was able to keep a steady stream of jobs while I struggled to find my next big contract," Fox mumbled.

"She's an interesting one, isn't she?" asked Hartmann.

"You're telling me. Half the time, I want to strangle her; and the other half of the time, I start to think that she's actually fun to be around. Then she'll inevitably do something to piss me off again."

"You two would make a fun couple," Hartmann suggested.

A flash of anger appeared in Fox's eyes. "I hate it when people say that. Everywhere we go together, people call her my girlfriend. What makes it worse is that she doesn't care."

"That doesn't sound like a problem to me. I think all those people just realize that you two were made for each other."

Fox bit his lip and arched his eyebrows in response to Hartmann's comment.

The canine asked, "Do you have something against her? I mean, if our lines of work weren't completely incompatible, I probably would have married that girl by now. She makes everything interesting."

"I don't think Scarlet could ever get married. She's allergic to dresses," Fox scoffed.

"Well, I guess then she'd have to find a white catsuit to wear. It would be an interesting wedding, that's for sure. But in all seriousness, what don't you like about her? Did she do something to hurt you?"

The memory of the previous year's Christmas get-together came to Fox's mind, forcing him to wade through the mire of oppressive thoughts that he would have much rather left buried forever – notably, the hilariously inopportune timing of his attempt to propose to Fara. "I don't like to talk about this, but Scarlet did something at the end of last year that kept me from talking to her until my dad assigned her to a job with me a few days ago."

"What was it? Go on – I won't tell anybody."

Fox took a deep breath, suppressing some of his resentment towards Scarlet. "I was planning to propose to my fiancée Fara in front of the tree on Christmas morning, but when we walked into the living room, I found Scarlet – who my dad invited without telling me – sitting under the tree wearing wrapping ribbons and holiday bows with a tag hanging from her ear that said 'OPEN ME.' She completely ruined the moment, humiliated me in front of Fara, and made my entire day miserable. They both denied it, but I think she and my dad were conspiring to keep me from proposing to Fara. It wasn't any of their business to do that, and it makes me angry to this day."

Hartmann could tell that Fox found his Christmas story less than humorous, but despite his best efforts, a chuckle escaped his mouth. "Man, I'd open that present in a heartbeat." When Fox shot him a hateful, venomous glare, he apologized and added, "But I agree – if your dad and Scarlet set that up to keep you from proposing, that was out of line. But does your dad usually do things like that?"

"What are you getting at?" Fox barked.

"I'm suggesting that he may have known something that you didn't – or something that you wouldn't hear him out on. When I married my wife Jaclyn, her parents flat out told her that they would do anything they could to keep us from tying the knot. Knowing what I know now, they were actually right to do that. The reason they tried to keep us from getting married is because they knew the suffering and heartache each of us would have to endure if one of us was killed in action. They didn't want their daughter to marry a mercenary, and after having to live without her for over a year, I finally realized that they had a point. I never should have married her, but I was too in love with her to think straight."

Fox sighed and looked out the side window. "Now that you said that, Fara's parents weren't happy about her wanting to marry me, either. My dad seemed okay with it, but I could always tell that there was something about her that he didn't like. That's why I think he's been trying to bring Scarlet back into my life."

Hartmann shook his head and grinned. "Honestly, that is not something I'd complain about. Oh – we're here. Get ready."

Fox looked up as Hartmann slowed the van and turned into a small parking lot in front of a multiplex building that contained more than ten different small businesses and private offices. Four cars sat in the parking lot, positioned too close to the road for comfort. Of the four vehicles, Fox spotted only one van. Nevertheless, he struggled to understand why any self-respecting IT tech would ever drive around in such a distasteful vehicle. The van sported a light blue paint job with searing yellow and orange flames covering the hood and the door areas.

"Is that the van?"

"Yep. That's it," Hartmann replied. "Part of the reason I'm glad Slippy built a wheelchair is because this IT specialist also uses one."

"Does his also have a missile launcher?"

"Not quite."

Fox's eyes widened. "Not quite?"

"Trust me – you don't want to find out. If we do this right, we won't have to. Alright – I'm going to park in front of the van and crawl under it from the back. That should attract less attention to us."

"You'd better be quick with the bolt cutters, Hartmann," Fox cautioned. "You couldn't have picked a worse place to do this. There's a huge shopping outlet right across the street from here. Someone's going to see you no matter how you do this."

"But no one will be able to do anything about it if I move quickly enough," Hartmann replied. "Okay – it's go time."

Stepping on the brakes, he parked the van in front of the tech's hideous vehicle in such a way that anyone on the first floor of the nearby building complex would be unable to see past the black van. He leaped out with bolt cutters in hand and rounded the front of his van, then dropped to the ground and started crawling underneath the tech's vehicle. "Fox! Start walking towards his office! It's on the right side of the building – first floor."

Fox climbed out of the black van and tentatively approached the nearby gray building, noting the numerous signs and names above each of the suite doors. "Fresh Cutz Salon, Madame Camellia Palm and Tarot, Fort Brinks Lock & Key, Breitling – IT Specialist. There it is." As the seconds ticked by and his feet neared the specialist's front door, his heart rate increased. He imagined the glass-fronted door opening in front of him and pictured the IT tech demanding that Fox move the van out of the way of his vehicle – or worse, asking him why the van was parked there to begin with.

When he stepped to within ten feet of the door, he heard the sound of wires buzzing behind him. "Come on – let's go!" Hartmann shouted.

Trying to avoid looking overly suspicious, Fox turned around and broke into a brisk walk. He avoided looking over his shoulder even though he wanted nothing more than to do just that. He looked at Hartmann's van and noticed that the husky had taken the passenger seat, ostensibly so he could re-enter the van without running into the open with a set of blood red bolt cutters. As he neared the black van, Fox knew in his mind that the office door would open behind him. Still, he refused to look back. Gripping the door handle, he jumped into the driver's seat and shifted the van into gear. As he drove past the IT tech's office, the door swung open. He knew better than to make eye contact with the tech, so he looked past Hartmann out the right side window in time to pick out a police car among the swarm of pedestrian vehicles.

"That was way too close," Hartmann admitted. "I'm sorry I made you come with me on this."

"Nah – it's fine. We got the job done, and we didn't get stopped. The one thing that I'm worried about is that the tech is going to call Anthracite when he finds out that he can't start his van. If he reschedules with them and we show up pretending to associated with him, our cover will be blown."

Hartmann put his bolt cutters in the footwell in front of him and leaned back in his seat. "That's not going to happen. You see, Anthracite doesn't take too well to setbacks and cancelations. That tech will be pissing himself trying to get his van to start, let alone telling Anthracite that he's going to be late. As long as we move quickly inside the base, we should be fine." He paused, then said, "Now it's time to meet up with the others to switch vehicles. Are you ready for this, Fox?"

"Absolutely."

AUTHOR'S NOTE(S):

Believe it or not, "Skidd Marx" was even more over the top before I proofread the chapter and decided that he needed to be toned down. I think I made the right move. The next chapter might take a bit longer to write, as I would like to put the entirety of the Anthracite base infiltration into one chapter. (Nov. 24, 2015 edit - whoops...that didn't happen)

Now, let me get to those guest reviews:

Guest: It is silly to call a plot boring for following certain canon traditions, BUT I'm going to make an exception to that for instances where the vast majority of writers in the fandom follow the same traditions over and over and over and over and over and over and...you get the idea. Fox and Krystal is pretty much the only major hetero pairing in the Star Fox archive, and it starts to get old when their relationship is portrayed the same way by nearly everybody. However, Krystal as an enemy spy does indeed offer a different kind of relationship with Fox, if they ever get to that point.

XxWolfMan95xX: You know, I've wanted to read a Fox McCloud x OC love story for a while, but they simply don't exist. Well, Sheppard Studios has one with a tentative Fox x human OC pairing (which isn't really my thing), but I'm not sure I'd count that. I've mentioned the idea of a Fox x OC pairing to another author at one time or another, and he wasn't too fond of the idea. Maybe that says something about why it hasn't really been done. However, I'm not going to make any public announcements on who Fox ends up with, if he ends up with anyone at all.

Also, you may have noticed the new 'Humor' tag on this story. Thanks to something Sheppard from Sheppard Studios mentioned to me, I realized that the humor was a big enough part of this story to be listed as one of its primary genres.