A/N: Okay, I'm done leaving you guys on a cliff face. The suspense was fun while it lasted, no? ;)
Anyway guys, thank you so much for the feedback on the last one. Still baffles me how you guys can waste your time with this. Haha I'm joking, but really, I appreciate you guys taking time to leave feedback. I honestly can't say it enough.
Alright, back to the story at hand. As usual, I'd appreciate any and all feedback if possible. Things are starting to heat up, as most of you can obviously see, and I want to know how you guys are reacting to it. You guys take care, and I hope you enjoy!
Taylor managed to use her remaining strength to pull out the weapon and haphazardly fired at the anthro soldiers surrounding her. She obviously was targeting the orange vulpine that was closest to her face, but with her immense blood loss she couldn't see straight and missed her vulpine target.
She hit something else.
James cringed as the weapon went off, then immediately after the shot resounded, numerous warm drops scattered onto his face and muzzle. He gasped when he noticed the warm liquid on his face, but felt his heart drop like a rock in pure water as he realized it was not his. He slowly and hesitantly opened his eyes to the sight of the gun on the floor and the human's chest not moving. The warm, red drops on his muzzle traversed down his fur and dropped onto his flight suit as he slowly turned around just in time to see the silver vixen that was crouching next to him fall flat on her back.
"Sarah!" James cried, spinning around and dropping low to her frame. He put a paw on the side of her neck to check for a pulse, but felt even more wet warmth on his paw. He lifted his paw out of the vixen's curls, then noticed his paw was dyed almost completely crimson. The wound on the vixen's head spread from the silver curls to the light carpeted floor, turning both surfaces the same deep shade of red as the orange vulpine's scarf.
James stood there motionless, watching the blood pour out of the lifeless vixen. He turned back to the human corpse with an enraged fire in his eyes, contracting his muzzle in complete seething rage.
"You BITCH!" James snarled, storming over to the lifeless human's frame and began throwing punch after brutal punch at the female's unmoving face and chest. His blood was absolutely boiling and his muscles seemed to work on their own as he pounded on the lifeless human relentlessly, seeming as though he was taking out all the hell he was dealing with on his new improvised punching bag. As soon as his muscles became as heated as his veins, he crumpled to the ground at the feet of the corpse with tears streaming from his emerald eyes. He about let a sob escape his maw, but stopped when the hybrid sitting up against the bookcase grunted in disbelief.
"Holy shit James," Wes gapped, continuing to fondle his nose. "You… What the hell happened to you?"
James again dipped his head and let the tears flow down his fur like a small waterfall. Wes slowly shook his head as he stood up and lifted his rifle off the ground.
"I don't know who the hell you are, but you are not James McCloud," he stated, looking disapprovingly at the vulpine. "There's no way the James I know would threaten to kill his own troops, then beat the shit out of a damn corpse because she just murdered someone. You… You've changed James… I don't know why you did, but whatever found its way up your ass needs to find a new home."
James eventually crumpled all the way down on the floor; sitting on his tail while sobbing faintly.
"James, they're using Fox as a hostage," Wes announced, patting the vulpine's shoulder. James instantly lashed out and grabbed the hybrid's wrist harshly, contracting his muzzle and baring his teeth.
"Don't think I don't know that," he snarled, almost crushing the wolf-dog's wrist.
"Then why don't you do something about it," Wes retorted, jerking his paw free.
"I'M TRYING!" James barked in a cracking voice, shooting up into a standing position. "Don't you understand? I'm busting my tail off to try and find him! What do you think we've been doing for the past two hours? Havin' a fuckin' joy ride, taking in the surroundings before we burn it to the ground? I'm trying to get my damn kit back you sick bastard!"
"And you're not going to!" Wes snapped sourly, glaring at the vulpine. "Don't you understand McCloud? They're not going to give Fox back. No amount of negotiations, peace talks, or compromises can amount to what they are gonna ask for him. The only way you're gonna get him back alive is if he manages to survive the hell we're going to put this planet through."
Wes curled his muzzle downwards and shook his head again as James' maw unhinged at what he just announced. He tromped over to the doorway, then right before he stepped out he turned his head back around and gave a nasty scowl.
"I don't know about you, but I'm getting my revenge on these aliens, whether you're with me or not."
With that, the wolf-dog stormed out of the apartment and out into the cool, crisp night air. A few minutes later, the boom of an Arwing was heard in the distance. James climbed back up off the blood stained floor, then crumpled back down on the couch with his eyes buried in his paws.
Wes was right. He had changed, and not in a good way. He let his emotions take over too much, and didn't let his instincts or training shine. He acted too much on impulse. He wasn't an impulsive fox, but this insane string of events he had been dealing with at the hands of the humans turned his character upside down. He went from a kindhearted, rational fox to a fox seething with blind rage and fury.
That wasn't him.
The humans were trying to kill him from the inside out. They were messing with his emotions, his personal life, his dignity, and anything else they could get their filthy, furless paws on. Wes was right; the humans needed to taste their revenge. They claimed way too many lives, and now it was time for them to pay up. They all needed to pay; especially the ones who had taken his kit away.
"Too many lives," James echoed aloud, glancing at the lifeless vixen laying in a pool of her own blood beside himself. His mind started a flashback of countless images of the blazing Corneria City, with bodies littering the streets and debris covering the ground for miles. Images of the people he had come to know back home, laying lifeless in the streets. Tens, hundreds, thousands of his friends back home dead; murdered for absolutely no reason but for sheer pleasure at the hands of the culprits.
James paws began to ball up in another spell of rage. As soon as the rage was about to boil over into an inconsolable fit, another image popped into his mind that instantly capped his anger; the traumatic moment of seeing his wife lying motionless in the grass in their yard. His rage quickly was replaced with heartbrokenness.
"Too many lives," he echoed again in a cracking voice as he stood up and glanced back down at his boots. He momentarily fished inside of his pocket for a few seconds before pulling out a small golden locket. Inside were two pictures; the first being a picture of himself and Vixy on their wedding day. Both of them were dressed to a tee; James wearing a very neat and tidy suit with a red bowtie, and Vixy wearing a gleaming, vibrant, snow white dress. Both were showing their pearly white vulpine teeth with massive smiles as James had his arm wrapped around his new wife. It was the second happiest moment of the vulpine's life.
The second picture was easily James' happiest moment; their first professional picture with his new kit. Fox was less than a month old in the picture, and he was swaddled in a pale, faded green blanket in James arms while Vixy stood beside them. Fox had a toothless smile and a tiny orange paw sticking out of the blanket which was wrapped around one of James' much larger fingers. Even though Fox was extremely young, he looked exactly like his father. The pale green eyes were identical on both vulpines, and both of them were absolutely ecstatic.
What he would do to rewind and have that moment again.
What he would do to bring Vixy back and have her at his side for the rest of his life. What he would do to quit his life as a mercenary and live every moment with his family that he still had. There were too many things he would like to take back and do over again so that they would end up exactly the way he wanted them to. It was too late now; everything had changed.
They took away the love of his life, but they would not get away with taking his kit. He wouldn't allow the humans to take another one of his loved ones away. He couldn't get Vixy back, but he sure as hell would fight to get Fox back. He'd fight to his last breath to get him back.
"Too many lives," James repeated again, closing the locket and stuffing it back into his pocket. "I won't let them take away another one. Not while I'm still breathing."
James sorrowfully walked over to the lifeless vixen and placed a paw over her silver curls. "I… I'm so sorry Sarah… I tried… I failed you… I've failed everyone…"
James growled softly as he shot up and picked his rifle off the ground.
"I won't fail you Fox… Mark my words… I will get you back."
50 miles west of Omaha, Nebraska
Nathan glanced at the digital clock on the dashboard of the car.
1:37 A.M.
Driving was beginning to take a toll on him. He had been driving for well over six hours, and he wasn't even halfway to his intended destination. The monotony of the vacant roads and street signs being illuminated by his headlights made him start feeling very lethargic. However, the only thing keeping him awake was his thoughts, and his determination; not to mention the lupine that was in the passenger seat next to him as well.
He was making all kinds of faint sounds as he fiddled with his wrist transmitter. Quiet grunts, moans, mumbles, and grumbles were heard from the passenger seat as he continuously fidgeted with the device. At times it seemed that he had given up and fallen asleep, but every time Nathan looked back at him, he was back fixing his transmitter.
Nathan glanced behind the seat to the fox in the back seat, fast asleep with his head dangling on the seatbelt. He didn't blame the kit one bit for being dead asleep. His world got turned upside down in a matter of hours, going from a calm life away from combat to right in the center of crossfire between two of the greatest powers in the entire universe. Boy, what a hell of a jump to make, and the emotional toll that it took with it was astronomical as well, judging by his current physical condition.
Nathan looked back over at Wolf, who looked like he was shivering even under his jacket and thick gray fur. It was fairly frigid, being in the low forties at night, which is why Nathan threw on his heavy hooded jacket before he stepped behind the wheel. He poked at the glove box in front of the lupine.
"There should be a blanket or something in there," Nathan pointed out. Wolf needed no second invitation as he opened the container and pulled out a dark gray blanket, then swiftly wrapped it around his torso. Nathan chuckled quietly as he refocused on the road.
"Thanks," the lupine said, already starting to feel warmer.
After a few awkward moments of silence, Nathan hesitantly spoke up. "So, I never got a proper explanation on why you guys are so determined on wiping us out. If it's not too much of a request, could you please explain for me as best you can?"
Wolf shifted in his seat, cleared his throat, and then looked over at the human who was still focused on the road. "So, I filled you in about the satellite, right?"
"Our botched satellite, yes."
"Well, by a stroke of twisted, sadistic luck, that satellite came down right in our capital city main square. It wouldn't be that much of a deal if it was a normal satellite, but it was one that used a combustible fuel source for powering the instruments of the machine instead of solar power. So, basically, as soon as it hit the ground, it exploded with more force than we could ever hope to achieve without going to full-on nuclear weaponry."
"Good lord," Nathan mumbled under his breath.
"And it seems I'm the only one that isn't running off of blind rage," Wolf said, somewhat bitterly. "I'm the only one of them that actually thinks rationally, but that doesn't seem to matter if I can't find someone willing to listen."
"Not even your military or anyone?"
Wolf growled slightly as he looked out the window. "Not a single damn one of them," he grumbled, then glanced back at the little vulpine in the back seat as he continued. "And Fox's father James, who would usually be the most rational thinker in a situation like this, is probably the one with the most blood lust in reality."
"How come?"
Wolf sighed and glanced down at the floor of the car. "The blast from that satellite threw his wife from the tree in our yard and killed her. That's how little Foxie back there fractured his leg too. And James… well… he still hasn't recovered from the grief of having his wife die unexpectedly and in the manner she did."
"So that's why he's pissed," Nathan stated, feeling the tugging on his heart strings.
"He's fuckin' livid," Wolf explained with a scoff. "He's the only reason why half of us are here. He talked our general into launching a counter-attack without actually investigating the situation. James just wanted to avenge his wife, without taking the other side's argument."
"So this is basically revenge with a universally unsettled origin about it?"
"Oh it's been completely settled alright," Wolf stated, donning a slight scowl. "They all assumed it was a missile, and deduced it was an act of war because of it. That's why we're here; to fight our battles of this stupidly unnecessary war."
"So, even though your military doesn't have a logical explanation or substantial evidence proving it, they still declare war on us?"
"That's what I would like to know," Wolf grunted, picking his head back up. "They can't give any evidence to prove why it was an attack, but yet I can give them a Transporter full of evidence on how it wasn't, and they brush me aside like last week's newspaper."
Nathan sighed as he switched lanes on the highway, increasing his speed to almost eighty miles an hour. "Believe me, I know the feeling."
Wolf looked over and cocked his head with narrowed eyes. "How would you know?" he said with a faint trace of doubt and hostility.
"I mean, I know what it's like to have nobody listen to you, even though you are obviously right, and that leading into a huge mistake."
Wolf cocked his head even further. "How so?"
"A few years ago during a war that our country had on the other side of the planet with another country, we had an incident that sparked a nation-wide debate that determined the fate of the war itself. Basically, this other country claimed it had the capabilities of nuking the ever living shit out of ours, and if there's one thing you need to know about my country, it's that we do not take kindly to threats; especially about war and violence for that matter."
Nathan coughed a little as he continued. "Anyway, long story short, the 'sadists' won their argument, and we ended up launching an attack and taking over that country in a matter of days. However, that country had its friends, and the retaliatory measures against us did not go in our favor."
Nathan sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "It was an absolute slaughter against us. There was no warning. Just as fast as we took over that country, they took it right back with countless causalities amongst our troops. A merciless slaughter. Taylor and I… we… were lucky to escape with our lives."
"And that's what my kind is going to do to yours if we can't find a way to stop them," Wolf stated. "They're gonna continue launching attacks on you guys until their blood lust is satisfied. If you guys can't find a way to fight back, or if our plan backfires, it'll be an uncontested victory for us. Well, for them… not me."
"You don't support them one bit? Even if they are your home planet?"
"Why should I?" Wolf asked with a dirty look. "They're all sadistic animals. They want nothing to do with anyone that tries to tell them differently. Exhibit A of that fact is sitting in your car right now," he added, putting his paw on his chest.
Nathan smirked at the lupine's comment, then once again transitioned lanes on the desolate highway. Wolf spoke up again in a slight growl.
"If they don't want to listen to what I have to say, then they'll have to suffer the consequences," Wolf said coldly. "If your military doesn't put up a good enough fight tomorrow or any other day, or if this plan of yours falls through, then I will personally see that the Cornerian Defense Force be put through a hell that they wish they never got their sorry tails stuck into. I will prove them wrong."
Nathan could hardly believe his ears. One of the enemies was fighting on his side, and from what he gathered from the lupine, he would do it until he made his point clear. He would put everything on the line to defend his position. Nobody he knew could say that about anything anymore.
Although Wolf was considered an enemy species-wise, he wasn't an enemy at heart.
Nathan slowly pulled off to the shoulder and brought the car to a complete stop. He looked over at Wolf, who was giving the human a quizzical look. Nathan smiled, then held out his hand to the lupine.
"Thank you," he said thoughtfully, grasping his gray, fuzzy paw. "I'll do my best to see if I can't find a way to figure this out."
Nathan glanced back at the vulpine, who was sound asleep, curled up in one of his spare jackets. He was even smiling slightly in his sleep. Wolf himself chuckled a bit as he spoke again.
"And don't worry; if it gives me a chance to prove those bloodthirsty military leaders back home wrong, I'll stay with ya," Wolf stated, staring at the human with a grin. "I'm gonna make sure they know they acted on impulse. I'll back you up Nate. I promise."
"Wow… thank you so much," Nathan said from the bottom of his heart, then turned the car off. "We'll get back on the road tomorrow. I'm beat."
"Alright," Wolf nodded, then turned around and gazed out the window into the starry night sky. He made a slight glance to the transmitter on his wrist, but quickly switched back to the sky.
If I call anyone now, they'll spot us right away. We gotta stay under the radar.
And who would I call anyway? James would just rub in his shit all over me, Sheila is probably still pissed and wants nothing to do with me anymore, and everyone else would criticize me saying that I was wrong. Well, I'm not the one that's wrong, aren't I? I've finally got first hand evidence right next to me, and I'd love to tell them how wrong they are right now. But what'll that do? It won't stop their assault. The only thing that'll stop the attack is Fox. Nathan's idea is great, but I have my doubts on its effectiveness. They will find us; it's just a matter of time.
Wolf took another glance at the transmitter, staring at a holographic contact of the light copper husky.
What happened Sheila? What happened to the girl I loved back home? That… what happened on the ship… that wasn't you. That couldn't have been you. You would never blow up at someone like that; especially me. You love me, and I the same to you.
Wolf sighed and turned the transmitter off, then lowered his car seat and flipped around to look out the window into the beautiful night sky.
Sheila… I don't care what you say to me; whether it be criticism or downright condemnation… I'll still love you. Wherever you are right now, just know that I wish I was right there next to you. I love you to death Sheila… I just wish I could say that to you right now…
Peterson Air Force Base – Colorado Springs, Colorado
One of the controllers watching the skies around the base was practically falling asleep at his station as he gazed at his empty radar screen. It had been like that for the entire night, but yet he still had to watch just in case. They couldn't get any nationwide support because any and all long range instruments had been compromised due to their satellite grid being hacked into. Luckily, their short-range landlines and radar tracking systems still worked, and word spread about the attack form base to base faster than fresh gossip at a high school.
Every precautionary measure in the books were being utilized by the U.S. Military. They had most of their aircrafts on standby and could be launched in a matter of seconds. Nuclear defense was out of the question, because they only seemed to be attacking locations on their home soil. They would never launch nukes on their own territory, even in a situation like this.
Besides, the president had been killed, as well as almost every other authoritative figure. They combed over D.C. countless times, sparing no buildings or structures whatsoever. They made sure that the humans' capital looked just as bad as their own. Probably even worse than their own, but they didn't care. They had apparently brought it on themselves to have their country glassed; and not a single soul on the humans' side knew why.
The controller took a sip of coffee, but immediately spit it off to the side as he glanced at his short-wave radar screen again.
"Guys we got one!" he shouted, waving his hand. "Ten klicks northeast; bearing 155."
"Just one?" another person asked as he appeared behind the radar controller.
The first controller glanced around his screen, but did not see any other bogeys other than the one on his screen. He shook his head negatively and responded. "Yup. This guy's all alone."
The second controller turned around and spoke loudly across the room. "Get weapons locked on it now. I want that son of a bitch on the ground."
Another officer acknowledged by speaking loudly into an intercom system. "All units, be advised; single enemy fighter in quadrant bravo, stand by for further instructions."
"Weapons locked," another officer said firmly. The second controller cracked his knuckles and responded.
"Bring 'em down."
"Weapons away," that same controller said with the same inflection as the sounds of missiles being launched reverberated in the military base. They had a radar tracker on the missiles as well, and as soon as they came up on the screen zooming towards the enemy aircraft the first controller chuckled.
"Looks like he found 'em. Taking some evasive maneuvers."
The second controller raised an eyebrow at the screen as he saw the red dot jumping around in the screen. "He's pretty agile for a fighter jet."
"Don't worry, we launched our best rockets," the weapons controller responded. "He ain't getting away from them, no matter how hard he tries." Just as he finished, the blip suddenly ceased moving, as well as the rocket signal being lost.
"Target hit," the other weapons manager said. "Went down just west of 24."
"Alright, get a team out there to find the wreckage," the second controller announced. "If the pilot's still alive, grab him too."
"Understood, Colonel Edler," another soldier responded, then gave his salute and shot out of the office.
"Why do you want the pilot, sir?" the first controller asked after the door shut.
Colonel Edler cracked his neck and sat in the nearest seat. "So I can figure out what they want from us."
"But sir they're–"
"No, they have a reason, don't even tell me it's not for a specific reason," Edler retorted calmly. "If they're going through all this trouble to try and wipe us out, there has to be a motive around it. You saw what they did! They hacked into our ACS feeds and launched a phantom attack on the west coast, and while we were focused on that, they swoop in and obliterate everything lined on I95. They have to have a motive behind their attacks."
"Then what would it be, sir?" the controller asked expectantly.
"I wouldn't have the slightest idea," he responded, rubbing his forehead. "That's why I want this pilot. If they're fighting like they have been all day today, obviously they know something we don't. I'm gonna get this information out of him; one way or another."
"You're not gonna torture this guy, are you?"
"If I have to," Edler replied. "He don't wanna talk, I'll make him talk."
"Sir, that could get you in a lot of trouble–"
"We're already neck deep in trouble!" Elder snapped, bolting off of the chair. "If I have to break a few rules to get this alien to talk, then I'll rip the rulebook in half. I'll rip this damn alien in half if I have to!"
Edler slowly walked away and propped himself on the nearest wall, the rubbed his temple as he lowered his head.
"As soon as we figure out who or what we're up against, we can easily wipe them out. I'll make damn sure of it."
#####
"Fuck," Sheila cursed, groaning in pain and trying to move out of her crippled fighter. Luckily, the rocket that hit her Arwing only clipped the wing of it, which didn't damage the cockpit in any way, but the fact that she plummeted almost a thousand feet and slammed into the ground with extremely brutal force did. She was incredibly dazed and disoriented, but she needed to get out. There was a fire burning just outside of the cockpit, and she could smell the G-diffusers starting to ignite. Once those combusted, it was all over.
She groaned out in intense pain as she unclipped her seatbelt and attempted to unhook the cockpit, but she couldn't muster enough strength to unhinge it with her arms alone. She managed to flip around, and harshly kicked the cockpit window with her leg. After the hinges had been broken off, she struggled to climb out of the crippled fighter jet.
"God damn piece of shit," Sheila grunted through her clenched canine teeth, then flipped her leg out of the cockpit. She didn't realize the handle to get out of the Arwing without falling out of it was missing, and ended up slipping off of the sleek aircraft and falling onto her tail.
"Fuckin'… OUCH!" Sheila growled, unable to move at all. She felt a warm spot on the side of her midsection, and a drop of blood running down her face. She put a paw over the torso wound, and groaned as she attempted to apply pressure. She didn't even have to look at it, but she knew that the gash was large and deep, and it would probably kill her if she didn't get help right away.
She was immersed in total, excruciating pain to the point where she could not even stand herself up. She needed to call for help, but she could not get her arm to respond enough to bring the transmitter close to her. Another thing that kicked her in the ass was the fact that it was bitterly cold. She had come down in a place of high elevation, which she instantly deduced because of the lack of air she seemed to be getting. It was either that, or her injuries were taking a toll on her quicker than she had previously anticipated.
She noticed headlights out of the corner of her eye, and the distant sound of a car engine. She wasn't usually pessimistic, but she knew that it wasn't help she was about to get. She struggled to try and get herself up and hide, but her wounds limited her movement almost entirely.
"There it is! I see the fire!"
The truck came to a stop on the side of the road which overlooked the ditch that the fighter had gone into. There was a distinct path that the ship had carved into the dirt before it finally came to a stop. Two heavily equipped soldiers jumped out of the truck and inched down into the ditch where the crippled fighter was.
"Hey, there's the pilot!" the one soldier shouted, shining a bright beam on the injured frame. "Looks like he's still alive."
Sheila struggled to move her head which was buried in her light colored hair, then growled softly at the quickly advancing soldiers.
"Did he just growl at you?" the second soldier asked.
"I don't know… Probably just– What the hell?"
The soldier was standing directly over the figure on the ground, but was looking directly at the light copper tail that jutted out from the pilot's pants. He kicked it harshly, causing the husky to yelp in a very high frequency.
"Hey, Don, it's a dog," the soldier announced. "It's like a human, but like a dog at the same time. I've never seen anything like it."
Sheila slowly reached down at her handgun, but the soldier grabbed her arm and flipped her over. She groaned in pain once again as the soldier forced both of her arms behind her.
"Nué sich diza!" she snarled, trying to kick at the soldiers.
"Oh, hey it's a girl pilot," the soldier Don exclaimed.
"Take her weapons and shit. I don't want her going off on us," the other soldier commanded, continuously holding her arms down. He managed to peel the husky's wrist transmitter from her arm, and pocketed the small device.
"I got some kind of watch," he announced. "What'd you get?"
"Handgun, and that's pretty much it," Don responded. "Edler said he wanted the pilot. You wanna load her up?"
"I'll load her up all right," the other soldier said with a smirk, tapping the base of the female's tail, causing it to flick wildly. Don also laughed faintly at the comment, but still grabbed the handcuffed husky up and forcefully walked her to the truck.
"Keep walking, fuzz-ball," Don commanded harshly, poking at the canine's back with his gun. Sheila fell to the ground after only walking for less than twenty feet, groaning loudly in pain. The other soldier sighed and brutally grabbed her up, setting the somewhat light husky on his shoulder.
Sheila could not move a muscle at all. She was completely numbed in pain and blood loss. As the soldiers threw her in the back of the truck, she felt the world around her starting to get darker and more distant. She fought to the best of her abilities to stay conscious, but eventually succumbed to the pain and slipped into unconsciousness.
Great Fox
James sat on his bedside, illuminated by a small desk lamp on his nightstand. It was extremely late at night for the vulpine, but he could not sleep. Not even if he tried.
His anxiety and fear was through the roof knowing his kit was still in the hands of the humans. Hell, they could be torturing the poor kit for all he knew. They could be doing anything they wanted to Fox, and he wouldn't be able to stop it. He was always there to intervene for Fox at school if there were bullies. He always had the kit's back, but this was another story. He was miles away, and completely vulnerable.
He stared at the small piece of paper that was found on the kit's door intently. That number on the page was just screaming to be called, but he couldn't bring himself to calling it. It was Cornerian policy; don't answer to threats or hostages. He always agreed with that policy, but now that he was experiencing it first paw, it was the worst law ever created.
James set the paper on his nightstand and took off his bloodstained flight suit. He threw on a pair of black, loose fitting sweatpants and wound the red scarf around his neck, not bothering to put on a shirt as he trotted out of his quarters. As he walked down the hall, he could still hear some of the soldiers on the other levels of the ship laughing and cheering about their victory in their quarters. If only they knew the real outcome of the battle.
The orange vulpine slipped into an empty break room on his floor and turned the light on, bathing the room in a bright white light from the ceiling. There were three couches in a U shape around a very large and flat TV. Behind the couches was a small kitchen-like area with a stovetop, fridge, and a decently sized oven. The room was one of the few rooms that was carpeted, besides the kitchen being a worn out checkerboard tile. James instantly walked over to the fridge and rummaged around inside of it, making a loud clattering sound as he pushed up against glass bottles. He found an opaque dark brown bottle, then shut the fridge and plopped down on the couch, letting the cool leather soothe his exposed torso fur.
James cracked open the beer bottle and took a long drink, but just as he put the bottle on the table near the couch he heard footsteps come into the room with him.
"James?" Riley called out, seeing the orange fox's exposed white ventral fur sprawled out on the couch. "What are you doing?"
"Havin' a beer," James responded hollowly. "Sup with you?"
"Wondering why you're drinking without me," Riley chuckled, walking over to the fridge in the corner and pulling out a bottle exactly like the vulpine's. The avian cracked it open as he sat down next to the fox.
"What's up Riley?" James asked with a smirk. Riley took a quick swig and responded.
"Checkin' up on you," Riley said calmly. "Making sure you don't go insane because of all the shit you've been dealing with."
James let a larger smile crease his muzzle as he sat himself up on the couch. "You've been taking care of me a lot now since this war started… Why?"
Riley took another quick drink, then looked into the vulpine's green eyes. "I may not express it much, but I do care for my team. My family. You're family to me James, and I care about my family."
James again gave another big smile to the avian, but all Riley did was sigh and looked down as he lowered his voice. "And I saw what you tried to do a few days ago."
James' smile instantly was replaced with a stupefied look as his maw unhinged. "Y-you… saw that?"
Riley nodded while still not making eye contact. James let a sigh out of his lungs as he sank down on the couch and folded his ears back. "Riley, I… I don't know what got into me. I just felt so… terrible… Absolutely worthless… I–"
"James, I understand," Riley interrupted, placing a wing on the vulpine's knee. "I felt terrible too. My heart sank when I wound the corner and saw the gun up against your head. Right as I was gonna say something, you dropped it and fell to your knees. I hesitated too long, and that almost killed you."
Riley sniffed faintly as he turned his head away. "What got into you bud? You've never done anything like that before."
James again sighed and took another sip of beer, then looked into the avian's blue eyes. "I… I miss her Riley…" he said, choking back tears. "I miss her so much…"
Riley held back his own tears as he slid over and put a wing around the vulpine's fuzzy, shirtless frame. "I know how you feel. Remember when Cara died a few years ago?"
James chuckled silently and raised his head back up. "You were a mess."
"I was inconsolable," Riley added, ruffling his feathers. "Just like you, buddy. I understand what it's like to have your wife pass unexpectedly. No one saw her death coming either. It hit me and Falco like a sack of bricks. We were absolutely miserable for the longest time…"
Riley sighed as he lifted the bottle to his beak. "In all honestly James… I thought about killing myself too."
James faintly recoiled at the avian's sudden revelation. "You?"
Riley nodded disappointedly as he put the bottle down. "I couldn't find a way to cope with the grief. I was an inconsolable mess for months, living every day practically with a gun strapped to my head. For three whole months I thought of ending it… I could have ended it all each and every day, day in and day out for three whole months."
"Why didn't you?" James blurted out. "What stopped you from doing it?"
Riley fished out a small wallet from his pocket, and pulled a small, faded and somewhat discolored picture and handed it to the vulpine. James instantly smiled at the picture of two nearly identical avians standing side by side at the Cornerian Aviation Museum.
"Falco," James said with a smile. "Same with me… I dropped the gun as soon as Fox's name popped into my head." James faintly cringed as he restated his kit's name. "Fox…"
Riley nodded as he put the picture back into his wallet. "Your kit needs you," he stated, drying a tear from his eye. "Falco is safe back home on Corneria. Fox is… well… god only knows where he is. We've gotta track him down."
"Easier said than done bud," James said bitterly, taking another drink. "He's completely under the radar. His transmitter is gone, and he doesn't have that tracking chip that the CDF uses."
"Wait," Riley interrupted. "Isn't one of the Huskies with them? That was a Husky Arwing, no?"
"Ah, you're right," James said, capping the bottle and shooting up off the couch. "I bet we can track that–"
The vulpine was cut off as his transmitter started ringing. He looked at the illuminated screen, then growled at the caller I.D. "Son of a bitch… That's Sharp; Husky 2."
James accepted the call and instantly started yelling at the large husky. "Sharp! You've got some explaining to do!"
"Woah, woah, woah, James, chill out," Sharp pleaded. "What's wrong? Why are you–"
"Why is one of the huskies working with the humans?!"
Sharp was silent for a few seconds, then came back in a completely confused tone. "What the hell are you talking about? All of our surviving pilots are here except for–"
"Garrison, I know," James interrupted angrily. "Why is he–"
"Where are you getting this information, McCloud?" Sharp questioned impatiently. "Garrison is on this ship. If you would have let me finish, I would have said it was Spitz that went AWOL. She bolted off the ship a few hours ago."
"Wait, Sheila's with them?"
"Abso-fuckin'-lutely not," the husky shot. "Sheila is absolutely livid with those humans. If she's working with them, then check to see if hell is freezing over."
James was absolutely mystified. "Then… why was there an Arwing at the human's place where we tracked Fox to?"
"Was it Garrison's Arwing?"
"Yeah."
"Oh shit," Sharp cursed, making James' anxiety rise.
"Who?"
Sharp sighed and lowered his voice. "I… I'm sorry James, you aren't gonna like me one bit after saying this, but Wolf jacked G's Arwing just shortly after we ended our mission. If that was Garrison's Arwing down there, and if you're saying whoever was flying it is with the humans and helping them, it's Wolf."
James was absolutely devastated. That was his kit working with the enemy. The same enemy that had his other kit held hostage. His earlier speculations were right about the lupine; he was the insurgent. He was working against everyone in the CDF, working against his partner Sheila, and working against his own father. He couldn't begin to describe the utter disappointment and pure seething rage he was feeling course through his veins.
"T-Thank you, Alex," James stuttered, completely dumfounded and enraged. "I… I'll take it from here."
"Take what?" Sharp asked. "What are you doing?"
James sighed as he balled his paws and lowered his voice. "Tomorrow… I'm tracking his ass down… and skinning him alive."
This world will never be what I expected
And if I don't belong, who would've guessed it?
I will not leave alone everything that I own
To make you feel like it's not too late
It's never too late
Even if I say it'll be alright
Still I hear you say you want to end your life
Now and again we try to just stay alive
Maybe we'll turn it all around
'Cause it's not too late
It's never too late
*Never Too Late – Three Days Grace*
