Alyssa Skyefall and Troy von Croy set out from La Clawchelle in the early morning, driving their rented boat away from the picturesque Voleux Port with its sea-plant restaurants and medieval towers. According to the coordinates, their target was situated somewhere in the Bay of Moray, thirteen miles along the coast. At their current pace, they would be there before noon, with more than enough daylight to find their target and complete their mission. So long as everything went to plan.
They'd commissioned a rusty old salvage boat that had its own crane and wasn't too big for a two-mammal crew. Troy von Croy, a hog deer with a coral pattern tattooed on the side of his neck, drove the boat while his partner sat at the stern making sure all their equipment was in order.
"Are we there yet?" Alyssa Skyefall, the arctic vixen suddenly asked, too bored to ask a serious question.
"We get there when we get there, zuckermaus." Von Croy said with a chortle. Zuckermaus, or 'sugar mouse' had been his favourite nicknamesince meeting her for the first time and seeing her small size and sugar-white fur. He'd lived in Fengland for over ten years before joining ZI6, but his accent was still as thick as ever. It made him stand out in an organisation of Brits like a dulcimer among fiddles. "I would say about another ten minutes, and then we'll drop anchor."
Alyssa, lightly clad in a silk scarf and a red dress patterned with poppies, leaned against the back of the stern to watch the sea race by. It splashed up in spurts, becoming a white mist that lightly cooled her face. The air was pleasant, and the water reflected the clear blue sky and radiant sunlight. A flat indigo band marked the point where the sea met the sky. She wished she could have seen more of Voleux Port. It was a beautiful place, and there had been a single seafood restaurant at the far end of the promenade which had served the most exquisite shrimp. She'd had the pleasure of meeting the fisher mammal responsible for bringing the shrimp back to land, a gangly but agile cougar who had bought and restored the boat with a welding torch and his bare paws.
When they finally came to a stop, she could no longer see the port they had left behind, and they now floated about a hundred feet from a sheer rock wall that stretched all the way from the ocean to the top about thirty meters up. Von Croy stepped away from the helm and threw the anchor over the side. It was time to get to work.
"Get the list. We cannot afford to miss anything." He proceeded to strip down to his trunks, the wetsuit lying flat on the deck by his feet.
Alyssa nodded and retrieved the documents from the briefcase.
Six weeks ago, five historical artefacts, willed to the Liondon Museum by a recently deceased collector, had been intercepted by thieves en route to their new home. At first the investigation had been left to the local authorities. Then the name Charles Kroft was brought up, and ZI6 took over. Mr. Kroft was an arms dealer who had taken over the business from a horse called Trevelyan, and it appeared that he was attempting to expand into other products. Completing this mission might be just the thing to take him down if they could find the stolen goods.
Four weeks into the investigation, ZI6 caught a break. A small cargo ship, the Anesidora, had sunk in the Bay of Moray after a rogue wave swept it into the rocks. The entire crew had managed to escape on a lifeboat, but their luck had run out when one of them was identified as a perpetrator of the prior theft. It hadn't taken long for the lot of them to crack. The cargo was still on board, and that cargo was the objective of Alyssa's mission.
The artefacts were the primary objective, but the crew had let slip that other things were being smuggled, too. Alyssa and her partner had instructions to find out what those other things were. It was the only reason they were here instead of a professional salvage crew. That was scheduled for next week.
She perused the list while Von Croy put on his wetsuit, the garment fitting the shape of his muscles perfectly. The five stolen artefacts shouldn't be too difficult to identify. An Aglo-Saxon crown, a solid gold tablet covered in hieroglyphs, a thousand-year-old engraved elephant's tusk, a Senet board with all its pieces, and an astrolabe. Alyssa stared at the images until she was sure they were engraved in her brain, and then removed her scarf and dress to reveal her black swimsuit… and her scars.
Von Croy paused in the middle of zipping up. This was the first time he had seen the dark outline of an old ragged bite wound on her slender neck and shoulder. Alyssa tried to ignore him as she pulled on her wetsuit.
The circumstances of Dr. Daniel Slothfeld's death were a secret even within ZI6. The majority of Parliament didn't know the truth either. The official story was that one of the terrorists, driven mad by the Night Howler serum, had attacked Alyssa and Slothfeld right as she was apprehending the sloth, grievously wounding her and killing her target. Alyssa only survived because of ZIA Agent Jack Savage's intervention. They'd succeeded in retrieving his Data Disk, which had finally been decrypted by an anonymous asset some months ago, so the mission had still been a success, and Alyssa was able to remain a field agent.
Had they known the other truth, the truth of what she had been about to do to Slothfeld when they were attacked, the outcome would have been very different.
"Should we take the bags with us?" She gestured to the lifting bags as she asked her partner, who had much more diving experience than she did. She knew what he would say to that, but the question was intended to draw his attention away from her neck.
"We'll come back for them." Von Croy lifted his eyes up to her face. The plan was to make an exploratory dive to find the ship, and then come back with fresh air tanks to commence the retrieval operation. Two trips, maybe three depending on how long it took to search the entire ship.
Once they both had the list memorised, they put on their BCDs, or buoyancy jackets, air cylinders, weight belts and masks. Then they made their buddy checks, checking each other's equipment to make sure there was nothing that could come back to bite them underwater. Von Croy was very thorough in his search, and Alyssa returned the favour.
The first time they'd worked together, a surveillance job in Hornwall, he'd made a few micro-aggressive faux pas, chiefly asking how she got into ZI6 and asking for tips on how to seduce a doe who'd caught his eye in a bar one night. Two years ago, she might have reacted badly, but she knew better now. Von Croy hadn't meant any harm when he'd asked those questions. He may have some minor intolerance toward foxes, but unlike other mammals he hadn't gone out of his way to be difficult. She chose to let it go, and they'd made a good team ever since.
"Hold still. Your tube isn't attached properly." Von Croy held still while Alyssa made the necessary adjustment. "Ok, we're good to go."
She heard a distant roaring sound. A boat was speeding across the horizon, a dirty grey speck which she recognised as a speedboat. A reminder for them to not draw attention to themselves.
They went to the stern, pulled on their fins and lowered their masks. Alyssa gave Von Croy the OK sign, index finger and thumb forming an O with the remaining fingers raised. Von Croy returned the signal. "Remember what I told you."
Alyssa pursed her lips. "Troy, I have dived before."
"I know."
The pair of them dropped into the sea.
The wetsuit and their fur kept out the worst of the cold. After getting their bearings of the coastline and the boat, they let the air out of their BCDs and let the weights assist their descent. Alyssa felt a sharp pain in her ears and pinched her nose on the way down to equalise the pressure. The pain eased up, allowing her to better focus on her surroundings. For a short time, she saw nothing but water, bright teal at first, but as they swam deeper the water darkened, and after ten or so meters they saw the first hints of the seabed. Through the murky water the seabed looked blurry, like an out of focus photograph, but gradually the edges became clear and she could tell apart the plants from the rocks. A colossal school of tuna swam right beneath them. Alyssa recognised the fish from the cans. She had no idea they were that big.
Personally, she didn't like diving. There were too many things that could go wrong. Even down here, surrounded by colourful vegetation and fish life, she didn't see the appeal. Give her a concrete jungle of bars and fish and chip shops any day.
They found the ship after thirty minutes of swimming, a small single decker cargo vessel that seemed to come out of nowhere. It lay almost completely upright, propped up against a moss-covered hunk of ragged rock. The hull was coal black, and the name Anesidora stood out in large white letters above the jagged gash that had caused it to founder. The sight reminded Alyssa of her scar. Just get down there and get it done, Alice. The voice in her head sounded more like Cheryl's than her own.
Cheryl. I hope rehab's still doing you good.
Alyssa and Von Croy traded glances and swam down to the wreck. The hole was too narrow to swim through even for the vixen, so they started looking for a door that would still open. The hatch to the cargo hold was a no go. It was too heavy to move without power. Alyssa spied the door to the bridge, the tallest section of the ship, and was about to start swimming to it when Von Croy tapped her shoulder. When she looked at him, he tapped the dive computer in his hoof and then pointed up. It was time to ascend. Alyssa pointed at the bridge. Just a couple more minutes to see if the door will open. Von Croy's eyes scowled behind his mask. Then he relented and motioned for Alyssa to go ahead. She swam quickly, reaching the door in less than a minute. Her lips smiled around her regular when the door opened without the need to spin the handle. She gave a thumbs up to Von Croy, who nodded and pointed to the surface.
They were careful to pace themselves as they ascended. Before they'd set out on the boat, Von Croy's insistence on lecturing her about the dangers of the bends, a sickness that ensued from nitrogen getting trapped in the bloodstream from rising too quickly, was one of the things that she found charming about him.
When he was a teenager, he'd trained in diving alongside a friend called Eddie Cowell. Something went wrong, and he panicked and ascended too rapidly. They'd gotten him to a decompression chamber within an hour, but Eddie had nearly died. Von Croy had gone into length about how much Eddie had suffered. The convulsions, the excruciating pain, the blood fizzling from his mouth as barotrauma set in…
Alyssa had considered the lecture to be a pain at first, seeing it as an ignorant jab at her being 'articulate' for her species, until she found out that every agent who'd dived with him had been given the same lecture. It had been recited enough times that they'd come to call it 'The Speech.'
After stopping for five minutes a few meters from the surface, Alyssa and Von Croy returned to the boat. They climbed on board and removed their tanks.
"What do you think? Should we bring the stuff now, or wait 'til we've found a clear route to the cargo hold?"
"Route." Von Croy started pulling up the achor. "I'm going to move us closer to the Anesidora."
Alyssa spotted a dirty grey speck in over his shoulder, the same speedboat from before. It was strange that it was so far out from town.
Most likely some tourists getting cheap thrills out of pushing their rented vessel to the limit, maybe even getting pissed on a few six-packs.
Von Croy took their boat farther out to sea before dropping the anchor again.
They switched their tanks and returned to the depths of the bay, getting to the sunken Anesidora within ten minutes. With a powerful torch in hoof, Von Croy entered the bridge first, sweeping the beam left and right. Alyssa swam into the bridge after him, a torch in her own paw. Entering a room that was tilted diagonally threw her eyes and brain for a loop, but she managed to get over it by focusing on Von Croy's legs. The hog deer found another door that should bring them deeper into the ship. That one turned out to be unlocked too. Von Croy stopped and signalled Alyssa. She checked her air supply. She'd only used a small fraction of the 3000 psi their tanks were supplied with. She signalled back to Von Croy, letting him know that they could keep going.
In the next room, they found an open hatch that would lead them all the way down. Von Croy swam through the hatch, moving very slowly to lower the risk of getting his air pipes caught or cut on sharp metal. Alyssa followed suit, holding her torch close to her chest, following the ladder down.
She really didn't like it down here. The report stated that the entire crew had escaped the sinking, but the place still felt like a tomb. She maintained her breathing rhythm and reminded herself that she was with Von Croy. If anything went wrong, anything, he would know what to do.
The cargo hold ran the full width of the ship. Light shone dimly through the laceration in the hole, falling upon the wooden crates that lay piled up on the lop-sided floor of the hold. Alyssa knew right away that they would need a bigger boat. Each one was too big to carry to the surface, but that was what the lifting bags were for. Getting them out of the ship was a trickier matter. She swam down to the pile of crates. Two had been cracked open, crushed by the pileup. She shone her torch on their contents.
Kroft had spared no expensive in maintaining the pristine condition of his ill-gotten merchandise. Alyssa had never seen the black boxes before, but she could guess that they were designed to be completely watertight. She kicked her way down and placed her paws upon one of the boxes, trying to read the label through the gloomy water. She could make out the barcode and the name of a company that either didn't exist or had no association with this shipment. She also saw the fragile icon, a cartoon-style broken bone on a black background. This could be what they were looking for.
But how to get these crates out of here?
Alyssa looked up at the hatch. If they were going to pull this off before sundown, they were going to have to get creative. She quickly worked up a plan and signalled for Von Croy to cut their dive short.
When they returned to the surface, they noticed that the sky was less clear than before. Grey clouds were starting to gather, but it shouldn't rain for a while yet. Back on the salvage boat, Von Croy advised that they both take a break, and they sat in the bridge with a flask of tea to share between them.
"How thick would you say that hatch is?" Alyssa asked.
Von Croy raised an eyebrow. "The torch can cut up to 40 inches of steel plate. The hatch will be thinner than that. Are you suggesting we create a shortcut?"
"We've got enough rods and air to cut the hatch free of the tracks. Then the bags can carry the cargo straight out."
"I keep forgetting you're not just a pretty face. We'll use the lifting bags to raise the hatch so it doesn't fall on the containers." Von Croy lowered his smile and dropped a sugar cube in his tea. "I don't think we should make any more than three trips."
"Why?"
"There's only so much nitrogen we can take." He set down his empty cup. "Three trips. No more. We'll come back tomorrow if we have to."
Alyssa hoped it wouldn't come to that, but she didn't argue. If he said it wasn't safe, it wasn't safe. "I'll get the torch."
She spotted the speedboat again upon stepping back out onto the deck. This time, it had stopped dead in the middle of the ocean.
She swallowed, suddenly feeling nervous. Speedboats were a favoured mode of transport for modern pirates.
Don't be daft.
She was being paranoid. Working in ZI6 would do that to a mammal. All the same she voiced her concern to Von Croy before grabbing the binoculars to get a closer look. There was a group of about six mammals on the speedboat, but she couldn't tell what they were doing. "It's probably nothing." She finally admitted.
All the same, she decided to take a harpoon gun along with the exothermic torch and a couple of lifting bags.
The process of cutting the hatch free went off without a hitch, with Von Croy performing the dangerous operation while Alyssa kept watch. First, he carved small holes along one side of the hatch so Alyssa could attach two deflated lifting bags. Then he cut the hatch free of the tracks, taking care not to dislodge it so it fell into the hold below. When he was done, he gave the OK signal and swam over to Alyssa to take charge of one of the bags. Alyssa took the other. With another air tank they blew air into the bags in short, controlled bursts until the hatch started to lift. Within fifteen seconds it had been raised completely vertical. Feeling proud of herself and her improvised plan, Alyssa carefully pulled the bag's line, tilting the hatch so it was leaning over the edge of the ship. Von Croy did the exact same thing. Then they both slowly released the air from the bags, lowering the hatch down to the seabed.
Now they had a shortcut, and with half-full air tanks to boot. They had enough time left to raise at least one crate, but Von Croy checked their air just to be sure. He signalled that it was okay to proceed. They untied the lifting bags and swam back into the hold, quickly choosing a crate to attach them to. A few bursts of air into the bag and the first crate was on its way up.
So far so good. So why did Alyssa have butterflies in her stomach? She'd felt like this on every mission she'd undertaken after Founder's Mountain. Like something was about to go very wrong. Nothing had, thank god. Things going to pot on every mission was a cliché that only happened in the James Bone movies.
With the other bag they raised another crate before returning to the surface. While Von Croy used the crane to bring the crates onboard, Alyssa searched for the speedboat. She couldn't see it. It must have left while they were underwater. She relaxed and grabbed a crowbar.
As expected upon opening the first crate, they found more of the black containers inside and counted each one they pulled out and carefully laid on the deck.
"5… 6." Alyssa muttered. "There're five crates in the hold, not counting this one. 6 times 6 makes 36… Kroft's been busy."
"You could start an auction with that amount." Von Croy said. "I'll call HQ and ask our head sheds look for any scheduled black-market auctions that're happening this year."
"Let's see what we've caught."
The clasps were tricky to undo, but Alyssa was able to open one of the containers and lift the lid.
The container had done its job, not one drop of water making it inside. Nestled in black foam was a rosewood case. Alyssa shared a curious glance with Von Croy as she carefully removed the case and opened it.
"Heiliger Strohsack." Von Croy breathed when he looked over the vixen's shoulder and saw the ruby ring. "No woman alive would say no to a thing like that."
"But it's not on our list." Alyssa said. "Help me get the rest of these open."
The rest of the containers also contained jewellery; another ring, two bracelets, a necklace and a tiara. All of them contained rubies. They checked the other crate, which turned out to contain tribal masks from various cultures.
Von Croy closed the last container they'd opened. "Come on, we've got four more at the bottom. And I think we can use that cargo net for the ones that are broken."
With two safe dives left to go, they managed to raise the last two intact crates. With a clear floor, they laid the cargo net down and placed eight containers atop it. When the lifting bag was inflated, the net curled up and encased the containers, carrying them out the hold.
It was almost too easy. Maybe it was too easy. Alyssa still couldn't shake her bad feeling. She told herself that it was lingering anxiety from the trauma she'd suffered during that incident. But this feeling was different. It was stronger. She couldn't stop thinking about that speedboat.
They brought the crates and net back on board their boat and checked their contents one by one. The third crate was full of religious artefacts, such as a wooden crucifix and a solid gold chalice that resembled the fake holy grail from that adventure movie. The fourth held more jewellery as well as an antique kurkri knife that reminded her of Gabriel Mossberg, the cheetah who had helped her in Zootopia two years ago. Last she heard, he and his wife had moved their new family to a sleepy town in Foalorado, USA.
The eight boxes from the broken crates contained all five stolen items from their list, plus two antique rifles and a decorative golden arrow with a peridot arrowhead.
"Well, mission accomplished! I'll get the champagne!" Von Croy leapt up and proclaimed in Germane with a flourish of his arms.
Alyssa laughed at his joke. Getting over no longer being able to work with Cheryl had been easier because her new partner was just so pleasant to be around. "Not quite, Schnucki. We've still got four boxes to pick up."
"What're we waiting for, then?"
Their fifth and final descent into the sea felt nothing short of foreboding. Alyssa had to concentrate on every breath to make sure she wasn't using the air too quickly. They entered the hold, laid down the net and placed the black boxes one by one. They got the bag to the surface and brought it onboard.
They took two containers each and opened them.
"A creepy jade necklace. Some kind of Aztec style medallion." Von Croy spoke. "No sensitive intelligence. HQ will be happy."
Alyssa didn't speak. The first box she'd opened contained a necklace of golden teeth. The second, the one she was currently staring at with wide eyes, contained a large rectangular metal case decorated with a family crest.
She knew this crest. She knew the red hearts and the golden pig.
The Swinton Family Crest.
"Bloody hell." She whispered. Her paws fell from the container's lid and lay lifelessly by her hips.
"What? What is it?" Von Croy scooted over. "Alyssa, I know you're in shock but I'm not an expert in semiotics."
"Troy…"
"Even if I do know what semiotics means."
"Troy, this belonged to the Swinton family."
"… Oh."
Alyssa didn't stop him from pulling the container over and lifting the metal box from the foam insert. He cursed in his mother tongue. "Combination lock. I wonder why the Swintons didn't want this one on display."
Alyssa scowled. That was a good point. She lifted her head to respond to his statement.
That was when she heard a muted hum over the gentle crashing of the sea against the boat's hull. It rapidly grew louder, becoming the whine of an engine. Von Croy turned his head, and they both saw the dark speck of the speedboat. It had come back, and it was heading right for them.
Her theory of it belonging to a bunch of college drunks came to mind. She initially thought they were coming in to have some daft fun. There was no time and no place to hide the black boxes. Hopefully they'd be too inebriated to get suspicious. But as it drew closer, she saw how ugly it looked. No college kids with any sense of entitlement would drive a vessel like that. Neither would any sea patrol crew.
Alyssa considered that they may be locals. Fisher mammals perhaps, like the one she'd met at the docks. Then the speedboat got closer, and she saw the weapons they were carrying.
Von Croy cursed and told Alyssa to get her gun. She was way ahead of him. She'd fretted endlessly about the mammals on the boat and their intentions, and now she knew she'd been right.
They grabbed their handguns and took cover behind the crates in the nick of time. The mammals on the other boat opened fire with assault rifles, riddling the side of the boat with bullets. Alyssa felt the crate tremble against her shoulder as the other side was ripped to shreds. She heard a voice from the speedboat, and the gunfire stopped. They were yelling in Spanish, warning the others not to shoot the cargo. So, they were Kroft's mammals, come to retrieve the priceless artefacts.
Alyssa fired three times, and one of the figures crumbled down out of sight. One down, five more to go. Their response was automatic, and Alyssa retreated behind the crate as a hail of bullets smashed into the deck on either side of her. Von Croy shouted an angry threat in Germane and returned fire when he saw the chance. Alyssa couldn't tell if he'd hit anyone.
Von Croy made a decision. "Alyssa, we have to go."
He was holding his gun arm beneath the shoulder. Blood trickled down the wetsuit beneath his fingers. Alyssa knew then that he was right. They hadn't had a chance to grab the spare clips for their guns. What was already in their guns was all they had. Those dickheads didn't want to hit the cargo, but she couldn't see a way to take advantage of that. Sooner or later they would run out of bullets. When that happened, they were dead.
She and Von Croy laid down some more suppressing fire.
Her air tank lay out in the open where she'd left it after their last dive. So did some of the containers. She saw the shallow dents in the black shell. It appeared that those things were even bulletproof. When the deafening chatter paused, she shot out her paws and grabbed the tank and container. The weight gave her relief. Even filled with just air, a tank was heavier than an empty one. The difference was significant enough that she'd likely picked up the half empty tank. She opened the container and plucked out the golden peridot arrow.
Von Croy fired three more times before the gun clicked empty. "Troy! Put this on!" She sent the scuba tank skidding across the deck. With his wounded arm, Von Croy had some difficulty pulling it on, but he managed.
Alyssa covered him with some suppressing fire of her own. One two, three more bullets, but they didn't stop the speedboat from coming up right next to their vessel. And she only had six bullets left.
When he had the tank on his back, Von Croy gave Alyssa a thumbs up. The vixen saw how red his arm now was. All she had to do was cross over to his position and then the two of them would jump overboard.
She aimed her gun around the side of the crate and came face to face with a grizzled boar. She hadn't heard them boarding the boat.
She fired right as the boar grabbed her arm, the bullet passing over his shoulder. She cried out as he twisted her arm, making her drop her gun, and forced her onto the deck. In his other hoof, he held a dart gun. When Alyssa bit him, he cursed and punched her. She was seeing stars when Von Croy launched himself at her attacker, kicking him in the face and knocking him clear away from his partner. Without breaking stride, he proceeded to grab him by the back of the neck and slam him face first into the edge of the crate. Twice.
"Come on!" When the boar was down, Von Croy reached out to haul Alyssa to her feet. A porcupine intercepted, bodily slamming Von Croy into the rail. The hog deer tumbled over the rail and disappeared into the sea.
Alyssa shouted his name and ran past the porcupine. Someone yelled for him to stop her. His paws missed her by inches, grasping at salty air as she threw herself over the side and plunged tail first into the Bay of Moray.
The saltwater stung, but she kept her eyes open. She saw Von Croy sinking beneath her, holding one of the regulators to his mouth. Blood seeped from his arm in a black cloud. Without his weight belt he sank slowly, allowing Alyssa to catch up to him. She grabbed the other regulator and pressed the button to purge the water before breathing. They floated there, clutching each other, feeling each other's body heat through their wetsuits. They would have stayed there for hour hours if they could. But then the air began to run out. They could feel it in their lungs. Alyssa opened her eyes again and looked up. The hull of the salvage boat loomed over them, but there was no sign of the other one. Feeling grateful that their air supply had held on for this long, they kicked for the surface.
They spat out their regulators as soon as they came up, blinking seawater from their eyes. Von Croy climbed back onto the boat first. If he was still in good shape after being shot, it mustn't be that bad. Alyssa followed him onboard and saw that the cargo had been taken. She'd expected it to be gone, but it pissed her off all the same.
Von Croy uttered an especially vile Germane curse. "So much for champagne." Clutching his arm, he turned to Alyssa. "You know those people?"
"Huh?"
"They could have shot you when you went into the water. But they didn't. They wanted you alive. Why?"
Good question. "I don't know. I promise."
She turned her attention to the sea. By another stroke of incredible luck, she saw the speedboat. It was heading along the coast, moving south toward a larger boat on the horizon.
She found the binoculars and took a closer look at the ship. It was a cruise ship adorned with the name Napolitana. The ship Kroft operated from. She recalled the language his henchmammals been speaking. "I think they're going to Spaininero."
Von Croy had found the medkit. He cocked an eyebrow at Alyssa while he patched himself up. "Well, what are we waiting for, zuckermaus?"
Alyssa wasn't stupid. She'd learned her lesson from Founder's Mountain. But that metal box bearing the Swinton family crest was important. She knew that in her heart. That cursed family had taken Cheryl from her. They'd tortured her into becoming a monster that almost destroyed a city.
She was going to get their relic back and find out what it was if she had to kill everyone aboard that godforsaken ship.