[Author's Note: Thank you to those who reviewed. Great to be back at , and better to know some old faces are still around. To Stryke: Thank you for the comments, but trust that they were points I pondered coming into this. Ultimately, anyone who is on this site has read other fics and knows the StarFox universe very well. Putting in descriptions the reader already knows would prove to be superfluous and detract from the flow of the story; something that could only work in fics, though, not original books. Also, since this is from Fox's view, he wouldn't describe them like that. He sees them all the time, so he would have no business doing that. It's like coming home to a house you've lived in for twenty years and looking around as if it's for the first time. Descriptions I decided to save for the things he's never seen before as, for me at least, it makes more sense for the perspective. Nonetheless, I appreciate the response, and I hope you continue to like the story.]

CHAPTER 2
The Ambush
Cornerian Army HQ, Corneria City
1728 hours

It turned out that I didn't need to worry about my Arwing's cargo space after all. I leaned against the wall outside the armory, contemplating the lethal uses of the paintings on the wall and the water fountain nozzle while I waited for Gage to sweet-talk the quartermaster. After a few minutes, the reinforced door shooshed open and he came out jiggling a set of keys, a broad smile on his muzzle like a kid who got two gumballs from the machine.

"Even better than your tin can," he said, brushing past me and motioning for me to follow. "Jack has an apartment downtown that he spends leave time in, said we could use it. Got his car too. If we take it to the loading dock out back, he'll have some things ready."

I was impressed. "How did you get him to do that?"

"I told you, he owes me a few favors. Let's just say I was there when he got that nasty limp. Dragged him back to cover."

"Always nice to have a life debt."

Gage shook his head with a devilish grin as he flashed his security card at the guards screening the front entrance. "He doesn't just owe me for that. He owes me for not leaking it that he accidentally shot his own leg."

I laughed. I'm sure it was a lot of tension being released, but Gage was a relaxing guy to be around when he wasn't blowing something up. Even in combat, he had the kind of seasoned finesse and confidence that made it seem impossible that he would fall to a laser, or allow me to. Though I originally tagged him as a gung-ho war nut, I quickly realized that Gage knew everything about every weapon I had ever even heard of for a reason, and he treated each one with the proper respect. His reason, I could never forget: 'In my line of work, you never know what you'll end up using in the battlefield. But you better know how to use it lethally.' I couldn't argue.

I remembered a night almost half a year before when I popped down to Corneria to do some shopping and we met for a drink. After we both downed a few, he made me a bet that he could name more lethal uses for the items on the table than I could name parts of an Arwing. All the table held were our two half-filled glasses, a few napkins, a toothpick, some coins, and salt and pepper shakers. I scoffed, figuring it an easy bet. I lost.

Let's just say I haven't looked at items like those the same way since then.

As I walked down memory lane, Gage led me to the bunker-like secure parking garage. I wasn't too impressed with the green truck we climbed into. I was surprised the engine even started, and even then I cowered back in the dirty seat waiting for the fuel line to burst or something. My mood brightened when we pulled around to the dock where a hulking bear waited, the bay door to the armory open. Jack, I presumed. The truck jostled a little each time a box was heavily placed in the cab. After eight jostles, I glanced behind me.

"What the hell are you bringing, heavy machine guns?"

"Among other things."

I studied his face for a hint of his subtle humor, but I could tell he wasn't joking. When Jack covered our goodies with a canopy and slapped the back of the truck, Gage shifted the poor, creaky gear and drove off. For some reason, it brought to mind the image of an old man tripping on a flight of stairs. Maybe I was more exhausted than I thought.

Through the graces of whatever divine power is out there, the truck got us to the apartment building in one piece. The location bothered me; right in the midst of Corneria's busiest city, people crowding the sidewalks, the streets filled with constant traffic. I stared up at the looming skyscrapers long enough to decide I missed the Great Fox. At least there weren't a billion windows there where snipers could lurk.

Gage must have gotten the hint. I suppose it wasn't hard, given the circumstances. He smacked my shoulder and dropped a key from the set into my hand. "I'll handle the truck. Go to room 1582 and lock the door behind you. I have the other key. Don't get comfortable though. Once I bring up some of the juicier things back here, we'll talk about what to do."

"What about my—"

"He has clothes you can borrow...might be a bit big though. I'll bring some of my things over later from the base."

I nodded and slid the electronic key into my pocket as he drove behind the building. The apartment skyscraper looked nice enough; over sixty floors with a balcony outside each window. Potted flowers flanked the door, swinging gently in the late-summer breeze. An elderly feline doorman nodded and smiled at everyone who walked through. Everything looked fine. So why was I so hesitant to go in? I'm not a paranoid guy by nature. I lived through a war and the conflicts that came after it, and I don't sleep with a gun under my pillow or any crap like that. But, since that morning, it suddenly became much easier to imagine killer doormen or gun-toting bellboys waiting for me inside.

Checking my pistol again as discreetly as I could, I took a deep breath and walked into the lobby.

It was a prettier atmosphere than the Great Fox, I'll give it that. I walked across the deep carpet, eyeing a crystal chandelier and the two concierges behind an oak desk. Before that, I thought only hotels had that type of help. Whatever Jack did to afford a room in that place, I wanted to know. He didn't get it with a quartermaster's salary, that's for sure. I pushed the elevator call button and, luckily, the elevator was waiting at the ground floor. I could already feel those two staring at me. I pushed the button for 15.

I don't know why, but I timed the ascent to 15. Call it being prepared. Before sliding the key into 1582's reader, I looked around and made a note of where the emergency staircase. A few seconds' sprint down the hall; not too bad. I opened the door and whistled at the apartment. A spacious and fully furnished living room awaited with doors branching out that probably led to the bedroom and kitchen and all that. A full bar stood at the far right wall of the living room, behind three leather sofas that lay before a huge viewscreen console. Calling it a big-screen would be an insult to its true size. The apartment was like a bachelor's dream.

But I could sightsee later. My first order of business was to lock the door and close the blinds covering the glass door to the balcony. As I looked around for more security breaches to fill, my eyes came to rest on a table beside the sofas. Half a dozen framed pictures sat on it. I picked them up and grinned as I spotted a younger Gage in a few of them, a soldier along with Jack in shots of their squads. The infantry units made sense, but I furrowed my brow at a picture of eight soldiers in black jumpsuits kneeling in front of a dropship. They all flexed their right arms in front of them, showing proudly the Dagger insignia. Gage was only a sergeant then, Jack a Dagger lieutenant.

The last two pictures showed an attractive lupine woman, no older than me. The first had her interlocking arms with both Gage and Jack, all of them dressed in casual civilian clothes. The second showed her in a wedding gown, embracing a tuxedo-clad Jack. It didn't take much imagination to think of some reasons as to why she wasn't around.

A sharp beep startled me and made me drop the frame with a clatter to the table. Gage opened the door, trying to balance a box in his arms at the same time. He heavily laid the box down with a huff and looked up to see me realigning the fallen frame. He just nodded and locked the door behind him.

"Her name's Jeannine. Jack's wife." He slid the box over to the side with his foot. "Former wife."

"I didn't know he was in Dagger. What happened?"

"Something similar to this, actually." He sat on the couch and leaned back, eyes staring up at the high ceiling. "He was a lieutenant when I first joined Dagger. Inside the team, we were brothers in arms. In our free time, we were combat buddies. We became friends. That other picture was taken the summer she was killed, at a restaurant we all went to. She was a wonderful woman. But, as always, the job fucked everything up. Dagger's existence was leaked and a Venomian general found out. But the army was weakened by then. So he hired every mercenary team he could find, and there were plenty who just wanted the money with no allegiance to Corneria. They had the names and profiles of every Dagger member, and they hit hard. Four were killed the same night when they went on leave, shot in their sleep. One had a wife and young child. The mercs killed them too."

He waved his finger around. "Jack didn't have this place at the time. He had a house in the suburbs. He was at the base, so the mercs did the next best thing to get to him: they kidnapped Jeannine. Dagger couldn't respond. We were in chaos. By the time we discovered what had happened, a full squad had been killed. Eight soldiers and their families. Those of us remaining were kept under strict lockdown in the base. Intel couldn't locate Jeannine, but after a couple hellish days, she located us. Her body was dumped from a truck on the road in front of the base."

I shuddered. I had heard numerous horror stories from Gage about the combat he's seen, but this one hit home a bit more. I looked again at the smiling faces on the wedding picture and stayed silent. I didn't know what to say; damned if there even was anything to say to that.

Gage understood. He must get that a lot with his stories. He just shrugged and sighed lightly. "He was inconsolable for a bit, but he moved on. We all did. Coping isn't part of training, but it's something we learn on our own. When he heard we might run into a few mercs, he was more than happy to shell out the armory and his place. Actually, this is more of an 'our' place. Any Dagger member is allowed to use it, and we all chip in for rent and such."

That explained that. "Tell him thanks for me next time you see him."

Gage nodded and stood. His expression was in business mode again. "Some ground rules. First, always keep the door locked. Nobody knows about this place except Dagger, so if you hear a knock, blow a hole through the door. Second, don't go anywhere alone. If we need anything, I'll get it. Third, stay off the phone. Don't call anyone, and above all, don't trust anyone. It's not a pretty thought, but you're the most hunted man in the galaxy right now. Mercs will be after you. If there's anything to be learned from Jack's story, it's how far they'll go for money and what they'll do to get it. Got it?"

I nodded solemnly.

"Good. I'm going to run back to the base and bring some of my things now that there's space in the truck." He headed for the door but stopped with his hand on the knob. "Oh, I forgot the most important rule."

I looked up.

"The big bedroom's mine."

I scoffed. "Get out of here, you ass."

He grinned and opened the door, but I spoke up.

"Gage?"

The fellow fox looked over his shoulder.

"Thanks for everything. Seriously."

He nodded curtly and shut the door behind him. A moment later I heard the lock snap into place.

After helping myself to a little something from the bar, I suddenly remembered that I never called Peppy back. The old hare was probably working on a heart attack. Gage said to stay off the phone, but I figured it would be no big deal. I wouldn't tell anyone where I was and I wouldn't stay on long. I walked to the telescreen on the wall and punched the number from the crumpled paper in my pocket I had written it on. After a moment, the hotel's front desk answered, a pretty avian with a perky voice. Immediately I wondered if Falco had hit on her.

"Hi, I have a few friends staying there this week, but I don't know what room. Could you put me through to Mister Hare?"

"Of course, sir. One moment please." After some clacking on her keyboard, she looked back at the screen with a frown. "I'm sorry, sir, he checked out today."

I reflected her frown. Peppy had agreed to stay away from the Great Fox. Where could he have gone? "Could you try Mister Lombardi?"

A flash of a grin on her beak told me my suspicion of Falco seeing more than just the normal sights was probably right. She looked again and shook her head. "He checked out as well, at the same time."

I didn't need to try Slippy. With a sigh, I said, "Alright, thanks anyway," and cut the connection. Sometimes I wonder why we even bother with naming me captain if no one ever listens to orders.

Jack's apartment, Corneria City
Two days later, 0532 hours

Two thankfully uneventful days passed before the first real information came into our hands. I awoke to the sound of rapid tapping from the living room and I sat up with a groan, rubbing my neck with a glance at the clock. 5:30 AM. I never did get used sleeping with my pistol under my pillow, but as much as I had ridiculed the paranoia, hell if I would ever be more than two feet from a gun. I dressed in assorted bland garments from the back of Gage's closet, but the lack of imagination didn't bother me any. The less I stuck out, the better. The only thing I found that I would consider remotely fashionable was a black jacket, not too unlike my flight jacket. I shrugged, pulled it on, and rolled up the sleeves.

"'Bout time you woke up," Gage said, not turning his head away from the computer console where he typed. He took a sip from a coffee mug. "I think I may be on to something."

I noticed he was dressed in his usual green fatigues, boots, black t-shirt, the whole nine yards. The fatigue top lay draped over the couch. "Gage, we're in the middle of a frickin' city and you're off duty. What foliage do you plan on blending in with today?"

"They've grown on me. Comfortable as pajamas. Besides, it's better than all that faded old crap I have in my clo—" He did a double-take over his shoulder and shook his head as he looked back at the screen. "At least you found the jacket. Take care of it, or I'll kill you myself."

I grinned and sat at the couch. His comment triggered a little twinge in my mind and it took me a moment to realize what it was. Finally, I asked slowly. "Hey, Gage."

"Yeah?"

I hesitated. "Did you ever...well...you know, did you ever think of...I mean, that's a load of money. It could buy a country. Did you ever think of...?"

He finally got what I was asking and looked over his shoulder at me with narrowed eyes. I hated that look. It meant he was either thinking really hard or was about to knock someone on his ass. Considering it was the look he gave me before our fight in the cafeteria so long ago, I doubted it was the former. I suddenly felt embarrassed at the question. He had every chance in the world to turn me in or just shoot me. "I'm sorry, forget it."

Gage turned back to the computer. "Money's a cool thing, Fox. I wish I had only a fraction of that pile he broadcasted. But for some things, I don't even need a full second to decide what's more important. I don't do what I do because of the money. A cashier gets paid more than me. If I wanted to fight for money, I'd quit the Army and be a bastard merc or someth—"

Now it was his turn to shut his mouth, steal a glance at me, and introduce an awkward silence. I didn't take as much offense to the comment as I would any other day, mainly because now we were even. I blew it off. Now that were done offending each other to start the morning, we could get down to business.

He beckoned me. "Come take a look at this."

I hunched down behind him and looked over his shoulder. The broadcast was playing again, but without audio. Gage was studying it and slowing down the frames in certain parts.

"Ok, look at this. We can never get even a hint of who this guy speaking is. He did well covering it up. He squarely faces the camera, arms folded I think, his ears immersed in the shadow. If he has a tail, he keeps it behind him the whole time out of view. We don't even have a contrast to gauge his height. The pile of cash is behind him also."

"What about the voice?"

"He used a scrambler. It's a recent model so it sounds like a normal voice, but definitely not his. Professional hardware. But take a look at this." He zoomed in on illuminated pile of money and gold until I could barely make out an etching or stamp on each bar of the sweet stuff. "There's some kind of marking on the gold bars. I ran a pattern matcher, but it's not finding any results. It doesn't belong to Corneria, the banks, or even Venom. The classified databases at the HQ might find something I don't have access to here. I'm going to run down there and try. If I find anything I'll call and leave a message. Don't answer the phone."

I nodded and walked towards the kitchen for some coffee, hoping there was something other than stale cereal for breakfast. "Don't forget your fatigue top. That fern in the lobby would make great cover."

"Bite me."

Jack's appartment
0653 hours

I didn't have long to wait. No more than an hour later, I sat at the computer, fooling with the broadcast and mostly making an ass of myself since I had no idea how to work the damn program. Well, it was either that or read some of the two month-old magazines lying around. I didn't feel comfortable with the viewscreen on. I kept thinking someone might be hooked up to it and looking back at me, though Gage said that was impossible with their signal being one of billions. Such a waste of such a beautiful thing.

When the call came, I let it ring, then pressed the button to play back the message. It was Gage all right, but more excited than I would have liked. It meant either something good or something bad, and the way my luck was going I wasn't about to play that hand.

"Fox, the scanners here found something incredible! I was able to get you access for an hour, so hurry up and get down here. Take the subway. There's an entrance on the corner south of the building and some change lying around in my room. Station fifty-seven. Hurry."

I strapped on my pistol belt, gathered the mentioned coins, and frowned at the crates by the sofas. I really wished I could have taken one of the rifles, but if I aimed to keep a low profile, that wasn't exactly the best way to do it. I settled for an extra energy clip for my pistol and left.

The sunrise was just reaching the tops of the skyscrapers, casting the city in an almost comforting warm glow. I remembered it was the weekend, and all the better for me; less people on the streets, not that there were many to begin with at that hour. I walked with my eyes averted to the sidewalk. If anyone recognized me, they kept quiet about it.

The stairs down to the subway were hard to miss with the big "Subway" sign, and I bought a ticket after studying the map for a second. Blessed privacy waited on the boarding platform. I guess the dawn train to the Army HQ sector of the city wasn't too popular. Before long, the unmistakable whoosh of wind off a speeding vehicle sounded down the tunnel. The train arrived, doors opened, and I stepped aboard.

I was less alone in the long subway car, but still only three people. I kept my eyes down and held onto one of the handles as the car rocked and shuddered as it sped under the city. I let my mind wander, but after a moment, I became aware of movement. One of the guys at the far end stood and slowly moseyed towards me. I caved and looked up. He was a gray wolf in a black trenchcoat and black shaded. He folded his arms over his chest as he looked at me, and unless I was dreaming it, the arms rested on body armor. I looked behind me at the other two and my heart sunk as I saw that they were garbed similarly, a burly-looking tiger and an equally combat-ready raccoon. The tiger strummed his fingers on his black cargo pants. Black black black...Gage would've liked these guys' style.

How did they find me?

I filed that question away and reminded myself to ask if I was alive in five minutes. My desperate hopes that maybe they were just really cautious pedestrians dropped away when they all moved in to surround me. I swallowed and slowly reached under my jacket, glad that my hand had been resting there to begin with.

"Fox McCloud," the wolf said, nonchalantly removing his shades and tucking them into his pocket. "We can do this the easy way or the painful way."

I tried to buy time. I kept my gaze at the window, keeping all three in my peripheral vision. "What's the easy way?"

"We have nothing against you, Mister McCloud. But someone very rich does. The easy way is we all get off this train together, you cooperate, and you get to live until this guy gets you. Then it's his show. You will not be harmed by us."

How touching. "And the hard way?"

"Well, the opposite of the latter. We shoot you here and deliver the corpse."

I shook my head, my heart racing like an engine on hyper. "Sorry. Neither of those really works out for me."

I guess they didn't want to hear that answer. They each pulled out a submachine gun from under the trenchcoats and aimed at my sweating forehead.

"Choose, now!"

I didn't have to choose. The next violent jostle did for me. The wolf's gun lurched forward a bit, an invitation I couldn't resist. I grabbed the gun's muzzle and pulled, bringing the wolf's face into my awaiting elbow. I spun, holding onto the gun, and ripped it from his grasp before landing a solid kick to his back that knocked him into my other two playmates before they could get shots off. I raised the gun before they could recover and emptied the entire mag in their direction. The lasers ripped the car apart, smashing windows and lights and, thankfully, my assassins. By time the gun hummed down out of juice, I could barely hear through my bruised eardrums and the three lay in a pile on the ground. The body armor apparently didn't protect the wolf in the back, and the spreading pools of blood under the heads of the raccoon and tiger told me I scored some lucky shots in the rain of lasers. I swallowed and backed up, feeling suddenly nauseous. The sudden stress and reintroduction to corpses played hell on my nerves.

I took a few deep breaths and stepped forward, back in the game. There might be more lurking at the station. I checked the bodies, but no identification could be found. Instead, I ripped an insignia patch off one of their sleeves and pocketed it. As a pleasant voice announced the imminent arrival at station fifty-seven, I picked up both fresh submachine guns. I wasn't a great shot with my left hand, especially when I was also shooting with my right, but I figured given the situation, I could adapt.

Sure enough, three more black trenchcoats waited at the platform. They stared in surprise for a moment, then raised their guns. Too late. I had the drop. I fired both guns, dropping two of them and forcing the third behind cover. I could hear frantic shouts between bursts of gunfire aimed at me. I silently cursed. He had a radio. I waited patiently until I heard the clatter of reloading. The guy obviously wasn't the cream of the fighter crop. I popped out and fired a control burst, taking him in the chest and dropping him. My left gun was empty and my right only had a few shots. Not worth it. I let them fall to the floor and pulled my pistol into play.

The gunfire had caused a commotion up on the street. People were running away from the stairs or hunkering down across the street, frightened yet curious at what the hell was going on. The two guards at the HQ gate in the distance crouched at the ready. As I emerged, I heard a roar behind me and turned to see cars swerving out of the way of one vehicle, tearing it down the road...directly at me. I didn't need any more coaxing. As the car made a beeline, I raised my pistol and fired off the clip. At the last moment, the car turned violently courtesy of a string of shots that pierced the windshield and killed the driver. I dove out of the way.

I stayed down and caught my breath after hearing the deafening crash. It wasn't followed by an explosion, thankfully, as it would have probably killed me as well. My muscles aching and my lungs burning, I slowly stood and looked at the flipped vehicle in the bed of broken class and smashed cement. The attacker in the passenger seat was trying to crawl out of the mangled doorway, blood dripping from his head, gun in his hand. I raised my own pistol and pulled the trigger, but it refused to fire, empty. Gage's lesson came back to mind; lethal uses of anything around me. I stared down at the nearest object. It didn't take much brain power to figure out its lethal use.

As the gunman freed himself and started to stand, I forced my body into one last attack. I took a firm hold of the twisted end of the severed parking meter at my feet and gritted my teeth. With a spin to gain momentum, I swung it with a satisfying smash into the bastard's chest, knocking him against the car and to the ground. He didn't get up. A rain of coins from the broken end joined him.

I dropped the pole and sat on the curb, breathing heavily, waiting for the military to come. The victory offered me no comfort. I knew it was just the beginning in a string from everyone like them in the galaxy. The only questions were when the next attack would come, and whether I would be lucky enough to survive it again.

--Chapter 3 coming soon--