Chapter VII
* * *
"Christ!" exclaimed Fox as he flopped down on his bed in the dorm room he and Wolf shared at the Academy. "Two weeks? You'd think we killed someone or somethin'."
"Slippy really fucked it up this time," Wolf commented. The two cadets had just returned from their visit to Vice Commandant Baldrigde's office. The two weeks of KP duty that had earned for sneaking off of Academy grounds without permission was going to begin the next day.
An hour later, there was a loud knock at the door. Wolf got up from his desk and took a look through the door's spyhole. "Uh oh," he said, turning to look at Fox. "Busted."
Fox stood up as Wolf opened the door, revealing an older fox wearing sunglasses and a bomber jacket. Wolf saluted, stepping out of the doorway. "Hello, Captain McCloud," said Wolf.
"At ease, cadet," replied James, nodding at Wolf. He looked into the room and gestured to Fox. "Come on, let's go."
Fox sighed, following his father out of the room. "Later," said Wolf as both father and son disappeared down the hall. Alone in his room, Wolf flopped down on his bed. He felt a momentary pang of jealousy for Fox. At least he had a parent who cared about him. All Wolf had was an abusive step-father who jumped at any oppurtunity to get Wolf out of the house he had inherited from Wolf's deceased parents, killed in a car crash when Wolf was eleven.
After a minute of brooding, he pulled out his cell phone and gave Haley a call, but got no answer at her house. Wolf's brow furrowed, paranoia beginning to creep up along the back of his neck. He was about to try again, but Bill stopped by at that moment to deliver the weekend's assignments to Wolf. Cutting class didn't spare Wolf from doing his homework. He put away his cell phone, and tried to focus on physics lessons.
The room was quiet for almost two hours, save for the sounds of Wolf tapping on his computer keyboard as he worked. He was considering calling it a night and going down to mess hall for a late dinner, when he cell phone rang. He picked up the phone and looked at the caller ID number; it was Haley. With a smile, he flipped open the phone.
"Hey babe," said Wolf into the phone, "You holding up okay?"
There was a bit of background noise, followed by what sounded like a punch being thrown. "Sorry pal, but your girl can't come to the phone. She's a bit, erm... tied up," replied a cruel voice from the other end of the line.
Wolf's felt his blood run cold. "Who the fuck is this!? What have you done with Haley?!"
"Come to the warehouse on Steel Street in the uptown district by midnight," spoke the cruel voice, "If you wanna find out." There was a beep, and the call was cut off from the other side.
Wolf snapped the phone shut and sat down on the edge of his bed, rubbing his fingertips over his temples. Steel Street was the headquarters of the Blades. There was no doubt in his mind that this was a trap.
Quickly, Wolf's mind began to play through several scenarios. Alerting the academy authorities was absolutely out. Calling the cops was not a good idea, especially in a hostage situation. Panic and adrenaline made Wolf feel edgy and violent. He was responsible for Haley getting into the mess, and by God, he was going to get her out of it.
Wolf stood up and changed from his academy uniform into a dark-colored t- shirt and a loose pair of jeans; good for fighting in. He stayed in his room and stretched for a short while, followed by a brief meditation as he had been taught in his hand-to-hand combat classes. When it was good and dark outside, he pocketed his cell phone and slipped out of his room. He left the dorm building quietly, and headed for the fence at a run.
-
Most of the lights on Steel Street had long been broken. Only the glare of light pollution from the sky above provided any illumination out on the street. Wolf crept along as quietly as he could, staying close to the shadows of buildings. He wished dearly that he could have brought a blaster, but cadets we not permitted to carry sidearms.
Wolf arrived at the warehouse shortly after ten o'clock. The building had long been vacant to any profitable business, but it was by no means uninhabited. Dim lights flickered in the windows, and Wolf could make out at least one figure moving inside. Callous laughter occasionally broke out over the sounds of rock and roll music.
Wolf pressed his body flat against the wall of the warehouse, ducking down low so that he couldn't be seen through the open windows. He slowly crept around the wall to the nearest door he had seen from across the street. It was open just a crack. A thin line of light spilled out onto the pavement in front of the door. Cautiously, Wolf leaned his head back, taking a glimpse inside. There were at least two gang members that he could see, including the cheetah he had seen earlier today in the alley. Haley was there as well, tied a chair with her head down.
Wolf's blood began to boil in anticipation. He stood up with his back to the wall, and took a deep breath before he edged around the doorway, pushing it open just wide enough for him to slip through. He tensed his legs and broke into a quick sprint, charging at one of the gangers and knocking him down with a flying kick before he could turn around. The second member of the Blades, a very shocked looking doberman, tried to shout for help, but Wolf threw a quick thrusting punch to the dog's throat. The doberman collapsed, gasping for air.
"Wolf!"
Wolf turned around to look at Haley for one fatal moment before his word exploded into sharp pain. Blood trickled down the back of his neck and shards of glass flew out from behind him. Haley screamed again. Wolf went down on one knee, and was instantly tackled by four more Blades.
The group wrestled savagely on the floor for almost a minute before Wolf was dragged back up, beaten and bleeding out of the corner of his mouth. Two gangers held up Wolf by his jacket on his knees in front of the cheetah, who stood with a broken bottle in his hand. He raised the sharp glass as if to strike Wolf, but then smiled, and threw the bottle away. The cheetah's hand slipped into his pocket, and he drew out a switchblade. Wolf began to struggle again, but a punch to the small of his back quieted him.
"You know what your problem is, pal?" sneered the cheetah, "You see way too much."
The knife flashed in the dim light of the warehouse in front of Wolf's eyes, followed by a searing pain across his face. He slumped forward, half aware of hands rummaging in his pockets before he even hit the floor.
-
Wolf didn't know how long he was unconscious; only that when he woke up, he was wrapped in the clean sheets of a hospital bed. His body felt bruised all over, and the left side of his face was curiously numb. He tried to open his eyes, but found that he could only open one.
The hospital room was mercifully dim and quiet. Wearily, Wolf sat up in bed and touched his face. A large bandage was wrapped around his left eye. When he probed at it, he was rewarded with a sting of pain. Horrified, he looked over at the small table on the room, and picked up the medical chart that had been left there.
Denial was his first impulse. He sat in bed for almost half an hour, just staring at the medical report. The cracked ribs and other cuts would heal over time. But his eye never would. Wolf got out of bed slowly, and walked into the bathroom. He flicked on the light and looked at his reflection. His face was pale, highlighted by the white bandage which almost completely covered the left side of his head. Wolf carefully peeled away the tape that held the bandage in place, and pulled on a corner of the gauze pad that covered his left eye. He instantly regretted it.
Wolf has just enough time to seal the tape back in place before he collapsed and started dry heaving violently into the toilet. His stomach churned, trying to escape his body. After the fit had passed, Wolf curled into a ball on the tiled floor, sobbing hysterically. His life, as he knew it, was over. With only one eye, he would lose his pilot's license, and he would be ejected from the academy.
By the time Wolf staggered back into his room it was almost five AM. His insides still ached from sickness and crying. He tried to gather his jumbled thoughts. A brief search of the room located his old clothes. Wolf patted the pockets of his jacket while he got dressed, but both his cell phone and wallet were gone. There was a rip across the right knee of his jeans, and a few drops of dried blood on the collar of his shirt. Quietly, he opened the door to his room a crack. He looked both ways down the empty hall, and then slipped out of the hospital.
-
The first thing Wolf did when he arrived on Aquas was to stretch his legs. The next was to escape the space port before the ground crew found him. With neither money or ID, he could not legally purchase a interplanetary ticket. He had rode in the cargo hold of a cruise ship. The journey was not a pleasant one; confined in a very small space outside of the G- Diffuser field that protected the passengers. Halfway through the flight the painkillers Wolf was on had run out, and his body became wracked with aches and pains, especially his crippled eye.
As was the case in most spaceports, the businesses closest to the port catered mostly to the needs of spacefarers; fuel stations, trading posts, and cantinas. Wolf found shelter in a rather run-down cantina. Here, he thought, few people would take notice or ask questions about his injuries. Wolf considered getting a few hours sleep in some deserted alley or doorway, but feared having his throat cut by some mugger or gangster.
As Wolf tried to gather his courage to go inside and beg for a meal, or perhaps a job, a lanky chameleon exited the cantina. He wore a leather jacket, bulky with armored plates, over his slender frame. One of the chameleon's yellow eyes rolled in Wolf's direction, and his clawed hand reached for the blaster visible in his belt holster.
"You there, boy," shouted the chameleon, "What are you doing here?"
Wolf shivered. This chameleon was no doubt a mercenary, or perhaps a bounty hunter. "Nothing..." said Wolf in a weak voice.
The chameleon's hairless brow furrowed. "You look rather bloodied for someone doing nothing."
"I er... got into a fight," said Wolf.
The chameleon's hand relaxed around the handle of his blaster. "Doesn't look like you fared very well," he commented in a dry voice.
"There were eight of them," Wolf explained, "And I got jumped from behind." It was easier to tell an elusive truth than an outright lie.
"Do you usually fight gangs of eight?" asked the chameleon.
"Well, no..."
"I see," said the mercenary, both eyes focusing in Wolf's direction. "You're a fighter then?"
Wolf nodded quickly. "Yes, I can fight. I'm a good shot with a blaster, and I'm a good pilot too."
The chameleon folded his arms in front of him. "What's your name?"
"Wolf. Wolf O'Donnell. And yourself?"
"I am Leon Powalski."
* * *
The sun had gone down outside the bunker, but neither Wolf nor Ashe noticed. Wolf deliberately averted his gaze from the priest's face as he recounted his story. Ashe knew that these memories were not ones Wolf was proud of.
"So, what happened after that?" asked Ashe.
"Leon took me under his wing, and showed me how to be a mercenary," said Wolf. "When the war broke out, we both went over to Venom."
"I see. And how do you feel about Fox?"
Wolf sighed. "Well, for a while, I blamed him for what had happened. Now I'm not so sure."
Ashe nodded his head. "That does explain a lot. But why are you hiding out in this bunker?"
"Another long story," replied Wolf. "And I've talked enough for one night."
"Wolf, how do you feel?" asked Ashe, though he already knew.
"Like Lylat's biggest jerk," mumbled Wolf, leaning forward and looking down at the floor again.
Ashe put his hand on Wolf's shoulder. "You know, have you ever considered talking to Fox?"
Wolf did not raise his head. "I thought about it. But being a mercenary is a shameful life sometimes. And when the war started, it was too dangerous."
"I think he would listen, if you wanted to talk."
Wolf looked up at the priest sharply. "You're in StarFox... would you take me back?"
"Of course. When will you be ready to leave?"
Wolf stood up and stretched. For the first time that night, he smiled. "Right now."
-
* * *
"Christ!" exclaimed Fox as he flopped down on his bed in the dorm room he and Wolf shared at the Academy. "Two weeks? You'd think we killed someone or somethin'."
"Slippy really fucked it up this time," Wolf commented. The two cadets had just returned from their visit to Vice Commandant Baldrigde's office. The two weeks of KP duty that had earned for sneaking off of Academy grounds without permission was going to begin the next day.
An hour later, there was a loud knock at the door. Wolf got up from his desk and took a look through the door's spyhole. "Uh oh," he said, turning to look at Fox. "Busted."
Fox stood up as Wolf opened the door, revealing an older fox wearing sunglasses and a bomber jacket. Wolf saluted, stepping out of the doorway. "Hello, Captain McCloud," said Wolf.
"At ease, cadet," replied James, nodding at Wolf. He looked into the room and gestured to Fox. "Come on, let's go."
Fox sighed, following his father out of the room. "Later," said Wolf as both father and son disappeared down the hall. Alone in his room, Wolf flopped down on his bed. He felt a momentary pang of jealousy for Fox. At least he had a parent who cared about him. All Wolf had was an abusive step-father who jumped at any oppurtunity to get Wolf out of the house he had inherited from Wolf's deceased parents, killed in a car crash when Wolf was eleven.
After a minute of brooding, he pulled out his cell phone and gave Haley a call, but got no answer at her house. Wolf's brow furrowed, paranoia beginning to creep up along the back of his neck. He was about to try again, but Bill stopped by at that moment to deliver the weekend's assignments to Wolf. Cutting class didn't spare Wolf from doing his homework. He put away his cell phone, and tried to focus on physics lessons.
The room was quiet for almost two hours, save for the sounds of Wolf tapping on his computer keyboard as he worked. He was considering calling it a night and going down to mess hall for a late dinner, when he cell phone rang. He picked up the phone and looked at the caller ID number; it was Haley. With a smile, he flipped open the phone.
"Hey babe," said Wolf into the phone, "You holding up okay?"
There was a bit of background noise, followed by what sounded like a punch being thrown. "Sorry pal, but your girl can't come to the phone. She's a bit, erm... tied up," replied a cruel voice from the other end of the line.
Wolf's felt his blood run cold. "Who the fuck is this!? What have you done with Haley?!"
"Come to the warehouse on Steel Street in the uptown district by midnight," spoke the cruel voice, "If you wanna find out." There was a beep, and the call was cut off from the other side.
Wolf snapped the phone shut and sat down on the edge of his bed, rubbing his fingertips over his temples. Steel Street was the headquarters of the Blades. There was no doubt in his mind that this was a trap.
Quickly, Wolf's mind began to play through several scenarios. Alerting the academy authorities was absolutely out. Calling the cops was not a good idea, especially in a hostage situation. Panic and adrenaline made Wolf feel edgy and violent. He was responsible for Haley getting into the mess, and by God, he was going to get her out of it.
Wolf stood up and changed from his academy uniform into a dark-colored t- shirt and a loose pair of jeans; good for fighting in. He stayed in his room and stretched for a short while, followed by a brief meditation as he had been taught in his hand-to-hand combat classes. When it was good and dark outside, he pocketed his cell phone and slipped out of his room. He left the dorm building quietly, and headed for the fence at a run.
-
Most of the lights on Steel Street had long been broken. Only the glare of light pollution from the sky above provided any illumination out on the street. Wolf crept along as quietly as he could, staying close to the shadows of buildings. He wished dearly that he could have brought a blaster, but cadets we not permitted to carry sidearms.
Wolf arrived at the warehouse shortly after ten o'clock. The building had long been vacant to any profitable business, but it was by no means uninhabited. Dim lights flickered in the windows, and Wolf could make out at least one figure moving inside. Callous laughter occasionally broke out over the sounds of rock and roll music.
Wolf pressed his body flat against the wall of the warehouse, ducking down low so that he couldn't be seen through the open windows. He slowly crept around the wall to the nearest door he had seen from across the street. It was open just a crack. A thin line of light spilled out onto the pavement in front of the door. Cautiously, Wolf leaned his head back, taking a glimpse inside. There were at least two gang members that he could see, including the cheetah he had seen earlier today in the alley. Haley was there as well, tied a chair with her head down.
Wolf's blood began to boil in anticipation. He stood up with his back to the wall, and took a deep breath before he edged around the doorway, pushing it open just wide enough for him to slip through. He tensed his legs and broke into a quick sprint, charging at one of the gangers and knocking him down with a flying kick before he could turn around. The second member of the Blades, a very shocked looking doberman, tried to shout for help, but Wolf threw a quick thrusting punch to the dog's throat. The doberman collapsed, gasping for air.
"Wolf!"
Wolf turned around to look at Haley for one fatal moment before his word exploded into sharp pain. Blood trickled down the back of his neck and shards of glass flew out from behind him. Haley screamed again. Wolf went down on one knee, and was instantly tackled by four more Blades.
The group wrestled savagely on the floor for almost a minute before Wolf was dragged back up, beaten and bleeding out of the corner of his mouth. Two gangers held up Wolf by his jacket on his knees in front of the cheetah, who stood with a broken bottle in his hand. He raised the sharp glass as if to strike Wolf, but then smiled, and threw the bottle away. The cheetah's hand slipped into his pocket, and he drew out a switchblade. Wolf began to struggle again, but a punch to the small of his back quieted him.
"You know what your problem is, pal?" sneered the cheetah, "You see way too much."
The knife flashed in the dim light of the warehouse in front of Wolf's eyes, followed by a searing pain across his face. He slumped forward, half aware of hands rummaging in his pockets before he even hit the floor.
-
Wolf didn't know how long he was unconscious; only that when he woke up, he was wrapped in the clean sheets of a hospital bed. His body felt bruised all over, and the left side of his face was curiously numb. He tried to open his eyes, but found that he could only open one.
The hospital room was mercifully dim and quiet. Wearily, Wolf sat up in bed and touched his face. A large bandage was wrapped around his left eye. When he probed at it, he was rewarded with a sting of pain. Horrified, he looked over at the small table on the room, and picked up the medical chart that had been left there.
Denial was his first impulse. He sat in bed for almost half an hour, just staring at the medical report. The cracked ribs and other cuts would heal over time. But his eye never would. Wolf got out of bed slowly, and walked into the bathroom. He flicked on the light and looked at his reflection. His face was pale, highlighted by the white bandage which almost completely covered the left side of his head. Wolf carefully peeled away the tape that held the bandage in place, and pulled on a corner of the gauze pad that covered his left eye. He instantly regretted it.
Wolf has just enough time to seal the tape back in place before he collapsed and started dry heaving violently into the toilet. His stomach churned, trying to escape his body. After the fit had passed, Wolf curled into a ball on the tiled floor, sobbing hysterically. His life, as he knew it, was over. With only one eye, he would lose his pilot's license, and he would be ejected from the academy.
By the time Wolf staggered back into his room it was almost five AM. His insides still ached from sickness and crying. He tried to gather his jumbled thoughts. A brief search of the room located his old clothes. Wolf patted the pockets of his jacket while he got dressed, but both his cell phone and wallet were gone. There was a rip across the right knee of his jeans, and a few drops of dried blood on the collar of his shirt. Quietly, he opened the door to his room a crack. He looked both ways down the empty hall, and then slipped out of the hospital.
-
The first thing Wolf did when he arrived on Aquas was to stretch his legs. The next was to escape the space port before the ground crew found him. With neither money or ID, he could not legally purchase a interplanetary ticket. He had rode in the cargo hold of a cruise ship. The journey was not a pleasant one; confined in a very small space outside of the G- Diffuser field that protected the passengers. Halfway through the flight the painkillers Wolf was on had run out, and his body became wracked with aches and pains, especially his crippled eye.
As was the case in most spaceports, the businesses closest to the port catered mostly to the needs of spacefarers; fuel stations, trading posts, and cantinas. Wolf found shelter in a rather run-down cantina. Here, he thought, few people would take notice or ask questions about his injuries. Wolf considered getting a few hours sleep in some deserted alley or doorway, but feared having his throat cut by some mugger or gangster.
As Wolf tried to gather his courage to go inside and beg for a meal, or perhaps a job, a lanky chameleon exited the cantina. He wore a leather jacket, bulky with armored plates, over his slender frame. One of the chameleon's yellow eyes rolled in Wolf's direction, and his clawed hand reached for the blaster visible in his belt holster.
"You there, boy," shouted the chameleon, "What are you doing here?"
Wolf shivered. This chameleon was no doubt a mercenary, or perhaps a bounty hunter. "Nothing..." said Wolf in a weak voice.
The chameleon's hairless brow furrowed. "You look rather bloodied for someone doing nothing."
"I er... got into a fight," said Wolf.
The chameleon's hand relaxed around the handle of his blaster. "Doesn't look like you fared very well," he commented in a dry voice.
"There were eight of them," Wolf explained, "And I got jumped from behind." It was easier to tell an elusive truth than an outright lie.
"Do you usually fight gangs of eight?" asked the chameleon.
"Well, no..."
"I see," said the mercenary, both eyes focusing in Wolf's direction. "You're a fighter then?"
Wolf nodded quickly. "Yes, I can fight. I'm a good shot with a blaster, and I'm a good pilot too."
The chameleon folded his arms in front of him. "What's your name?"
"Wolf. Wolf O'Donnell. And yourself?"
"I am Leon Powalski."
* * *
The sun had gone down outside the bunker, but neither Wolf nor Ashe noticed. Wolf deliberately averted his gaze from the priest's face as he recounted his story. Ashe knew that these memories were not ones Wolf was proud of.
"So, what happened after that?" asked Ashe.
"Leon took me under his wing, and showed me how to be a mercenary," said Wolf. "When the war broke out, we both went over to Venom."
"I see. And how do you feel about Fox?"
Wolf sighed. "Well, for a while, I blamed him for what had happened. Now I'm not so sure."
Ashe nodded his head. "That does explain a lot. But why are you hiding out in this bunker?"
"Another long story," replied Wolf. "And I've talked enough for one night."
"Wolf, how do you feel?" asked Ashe, though he already knew.
"Like Lylat's biggest jerk," mumbled Wolf, leaning forward and looking down at the floor again.
Ashe put his hand on Wolf's shoulder. "You know, have you ever considered talking to Fox?"
Wolf did not raise his head. "I thought about it. But being a mercenary is a shameful life sometimes. And when the war started, it was too dangerous."
"I think he would listen, if you wanted to talk."
Wolf looked up at the priest sharply. "You're in StarFox... would you take me back?"
"Of course. When will you be ready to leave?"
Wolf stood up and stretched. For the first time that night, he smiled. "Right now."
-