Okay. You all have the right to beat katklaws-shaped piñatas with baseball bats because I really, really deserve it. I'm so, so, so sorry that I haven't updated according to my pledges but, it was just this chapter! It fought my the whole time I wrote it! I've never come across such a rebellious chapter in all my days. Please show me I am forgiven in the form of reviews. (Or say I'm not forgiven, as long as they're in reviews.) -♥ katklaws

I also want to personally thank Piratelizard101 and Nightwingstar for their elaborate reviews and words of support. I would have never posted chappie 3 without the encouragement!

Chapter Three: The Infiltration

Iggy wasn't sure what jolted him out of slumber first- the yowl directly next to his sensitive ears or the explosion from the far side of the room. His eye shot open instinctively, only causing a trickle of pain now, and he saw sunlight streaming inside from a gaping hole in the wall. The cat he'd met earlier now hissed through the bent bars of his crate, "Let's move!"

Fumbling for the lock which he knew from experience would be to difficult to break, Iggy whispered back, "What? Who blew that up?" Suddenly, a broad paw pressed against the lock Iggy was struggling with and he felt a ripple of energy flow through it. A small crack grew across the surface then suddenly, it was snapped by an unseen force and the door fell open.

It was against his philosophy to waste time so Iggy opened his left eye and shot into the air. There, in front of his crate, was the wildcat with human eyes. Whitecoat voices were filtering around the door and Iggy was torn between fleeing now or returning to the ground to get it.

Saving the regret he'd soon feel for this later, Iggy dove expertly, his instincts of flight flowing back and scooped the feline up. It gritted its teeth, clutching at his shoulder and chest with its claws but refrained from thrashing. Iggy's face was set with grim determination as something dangerous, like a shot from a stun gun, whizzed past his head. With a flourish of aerodynamic acrobatics, he shot out the gaping whole, spinning torpedo-style for speed. Sensing the void above him, Iggy locked his arms around the heavy creature and shot as high and far away into the sky as he could, leaving the School far behind.

As the sight or sound of any civilization at all vanished in their flight, Iggy relaxed, barely ruffling his wings and soaring across the sky.

"Hey, Iggy, slow down, would ya? I'm getting nauseous... " the feline put in, trembling in his arms, and Iggy complied. The last thing he needed was a view of the cat's breakfast, after it was eaten.

As the adrenaline dropped and left them both feeling shaky and ill, Iggy narrowed his eye at the cat. Fang's scornful voice weaved through his head, You didn't even ask what he knew? Don't you think that was a little suspicious? The cat, who had just looked down and swallowed said breakfast back down, returned Iggy's skeptical stare with a questioning blink.

"So," Iggy said, looking away, "What's your name? I didn't ask yesterday." The cat snorted at the question. It seemed ridiculous to him.

"Name? Who has a name when they're a screwed-up clone-experiment-thing with no one to give it to?" he growled airily, "I was just LS-02 to those- those whitecoats, as you called them. I have more colorful words for'em, truth be told."

"Well, what do you wanna be called?" Iggy prodded, "I can't just keep calling you the cat-thing that helped me break out of the School." Now that he thought about it, he should ask what kind of explosives were used on the keeping room, or find out if there was some hidden power the serval had neglected from informing him about.

The cat bobbed his head from side to side, as if weighing options in his head. "Oh, I don't know. What's a good name for me? Not one that's too common, and not one that sounds lame..."

He sounds more like Nudge than a spy created to rip the flock into tiny little pieces! Iggy though to himself, letting it ramble on as it listed conditions for the name it would choose. It was safe to assume this serval-cat thing wasn't on the School's side. This cat was acting way too natural and open with him to be hiding secret alliances with evil.

"I don't many names," Iggy replied, a sense of urgency making him strive to leave the subject and join the flock again. What was he supposed to do in this situation? He'd never been faced with someone that was trusting and relying on him so much. There weren't any prying eyes on him, scornful if he should care about something or disapproving if he got attached. For a moment, hanging on the air with a cat bundled in his arms, all alone and able to see, Iggy felt as if the world was farther away than it had ever been before.

Iggy angled his body so that the air hit him a different way, tipping him so that he coasted parallel to the ground. Half paying attention, Iggy turned to his creative side for help. "Why don't you think of things you like? I suppose names can be anything you want them to be."

The serval fell silent for a few moments, then murmured against the wind, as if suddenly uncovering a dark memory, "I'll figure it out later, when it matters. When we meet the rest of your flock, I suppose."

Though slightly puzzled at the turn of attitude, Iggy nodded approval and gazed across the hot, dry terrain, centering his internal compass. He could go to the last place he'd been with the flock but, knowing them, they'd already be heading across the country. How long had he been out? How many hours, days or even weeks had he been in and out of surgery and unconscious, unable to keep track of time?

Eventually, Iggy decided against going back to South Carolina, where he'd last seen the flock. He'd at least been at the school for a few days and there was absolutely no chance of the flock staying in one place for so long with one of their siblings in the hands of whitecoats. But how was he going to contact them?

As Iggy drifted through his thoughts, the world drifted away. The slight twitches in his feathers and muscles shifts in his shoulders happened instinctively until the cat began calling his name. When Iggy didn't look up, the cat sank its claws down and elicited a yelp from him.

"What?!" Iggy cried, flapping suddenly and hovering vertically again.

Impervious to the boy's irritation, the cat blinked and indicated at something on the ground.

"What's that?"

Iggy cocked his head to one side and dropped altitude. An idea sprang into his mind as people the size of ants moved over the concrete-colored town, speckled with dashes of glinting cars and green treetops. Feeling a surge of hope, Iggy dove onto the unsuspecting city, his feline friend yowling at his sudden aerobatic maneuver.

-:-;-:-

"Are you gonna ask me to get into a crate next?" came the serval's furious growl.

Iggy shifted the black sunglasses on his face and held the harness and leash out, gently trying to persuade the cat.

"Look, they have laws about wildcats running loose in the cities. It'll only be for a moment and then you never have to do again." Unless we go into another city, he added silently to himself, not anticipating the event.

The cat had lowered its head, face shadowed, eyes glinting in the dark alleyway, and squared his shoulders. Iggy watched the fur along its spine bristle and its tail lash at the very notion of being restrained, then settle at the logic. Finally, with an irritated tail twitch, the serval sat down and sighed a low, voiceless growl. Iggy secured the harness around the cat's body and, with a quiet apology, clipped it into place.

"Now if you have to tell me anything, just tap my foot. If normal people see a talking cat, they'd freak so we're going to avoid that." Wings tucked in taut under a jacket, Iggy gripped the leash, took a deep breath and sent out any fears or doubts. He blinked slowly and stepped onto the sidewalk.

Sunlight dazzled his eyes. It was amazing, seeing the colors flash in the light, even glancing at all the different faces looking oddly at his 'pet'. He watched cars whiz down the four lane road at the heart of the city and saw little children squeal with delight at the sight of this strange cat-beast that was so different from Fluffy at home.

Watching their eyes shine in happiness, Iggy felt choked. Had the Gasman made that same expression when he was younger? Did Angel ever make that face now? Iggy had lost his sight six years ago and suddenly he felt like he was eight all over again. He'd glimpsed Angel once for all the time he'd known her and she'd been an infant then! What did she look like now? What did they all look like now? Sure, he could tell them apart by the texture of their feathers and the rhythm of their footsteps but he could've been able to do just that by looking.

Something prodded his foot. Iggy jolted from himself and looked down. The cat had managed to put on the most peeved and least feline-like expression that said, Hello? Pay attention! The once-blind boy looked up and saw an odd looking building with different sections of different colored concrete that soared into the sky: the public library. It wasn't huge, at least in comparison to New York city's public library. While he hadn't seen the building, he'd been able to get a general idea of the size by the way their voices had taken forever to bounce back to him.

This was going to be the hard part. Marching up the stairs to the front doors, he boldly held the door open for the serval cat and went up to the front desk. Muttering out of the side of his mouth so quietly only someone as sharp eared as a cat or Iggy himself could hear, he briskly approached the front desk.

"Just play along, okay? If they think you're a trained, er, companion of mine then they'll let you in. They have a thing against cats in libraries or something." Looking right at the surprised and somewhat vexed-looking lady behind the counter, Iggy continued, "Um, good afternoon, ma'am. I was wondering if you could direct me towards a computer that I could possibly use for a moment." The women frowned.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave your, um, pet outside," she said as kindly as an annoyed person could. Iggy merely let a warm smile appear on his lips.

"Oh, nonsense. He wouldn't hurt a fly and he knows not to harm any equipment," Iggy wheedled, "Just watch." Not waiting for an answer, he stepped back and led the serval away a bit then ordered, "Sit."

Flashing him a blink that said You owe me, he promptly sat still. Iggy blinked a Please don't screw this up! and said "Take three steps back." The woman's eyes widened as the cat complied. "Now wave to the nice lady." The serval, with only a discreet snort to show his ill temper, sat back on his haunches and flapped a paw.

While the woman stared speechlessly, Iggy smiled again and nodded, "See? Perfectly harmless. I'll just be using these computers over here, if you don't mind." Behind him, Iggy heard her struggle for words as apparently her view on feline intelligence was shattered.

Iggy settled at the tables farthest away from the doors, where prying eyes could not reach, and logged on under guest. After a brief moment of searching, he found a web page under the title of '6 Kids, 12 Wings and 1 Blog!' Glancing at the newest postings, he could see that the flock was hinting to the people that he'd gone missing but hadn't outright said so. The last thing they needed was the world to know that one of the flock, who was blind and probably a tad lost, was separated from the rest of them. Logging in an anonymous guest, he typed up a blog message to the flock.

Ig here. Don't panic guys, I'm free now. Not to cut anything short but time for Flock Talk. Asu, Gragnot plozzus, cologmor, Denoppolus. Libra doorstep foremost, xii poleax mynoot- 30 breaths, circadian. -Ig out.

PS- I missed you guys.

Iggy and Max were the most fluent in Flock Talk but everyone knew most of the code by heart. It had saved their lives or at least gotten them out of trouble too many times to count. He looked over the message twice, putting in intentional typos that the only the flock would understand and taking out anything that might give too much away to not-so-friendly viewers.

With a swipe of the computer's history and a friendly nod to the still-shocked desk attendant, Iggy marched out. As soon as they exited the building, the serval growled most terrifyingly, "You owe me so big. Don't think I won't hold ya to it!"

:-;-:

Fang was perched high in a sprawling tree, the flock settling uneasily around him. They didn't want to rest but they had to if they were going to launch an attack on the School and survive, they needed to recuperate from their cross-country flight. Balanced around them on the branches was a fast-food feast that could have easily fed a group of fifteen with leftovers. The second-oldest of the flock had just opened his laptop -they were perched literally on the edge of city, near enough to a Starbucks for an internet connection- and was sipping at a cup when suddenly he choked and sprayed soda from his mouth. The flock all around him leapt up with wide eyes at his outburst.

Coughing, he motioned for them to come look. Angel bounded over neatly and sat beside him, leaning on his leg for a closer look. Only a hopeful gleam flashing on her eyes revealed her desperation to bring back Iggy. The Gasman sat warily on his other side, dark circles under his eyes and an overall aura of fadedness showing how hard it hit him. Nudge scrambled over, dark hair bouncing, and balanced against the Gasman, who gave a half-hearted grumble of resistance.

Max stood tall behind them on a broad limb, sharp eyes darted back and forth as they read the posting.

Fang wiped his face with the back of one hand and muttered, "I shoulda told him not to use Flock Talk where everyone can read it. Who knows who'll figure it out now?" Nothing but release of his fears, shown in the minute tremble of his shoulders, exposed his utter relief.