The castle's dining hall was warmly lit by a large, open fire. The curtains were draw shut and the table was lain. The two De'ath's, Ian and Angus, sat either end of the large, wooden table, and McGnab stood sternly beside the fireplace, warming himself against the otherwise chill air of the drafty castle.
"McGnab," said Ian, "more scotch."
The tall frame of McGnab - by far the largest badger of the three - paced directly towards Ian Dea'th, picked up a decanter, and poured a healthy glass of pungent-smelling alcohol into the Laird's glass.
Picking it up, Ian's gaze turned shiftily towards Angus. "Would it be improper to enquire as to where your friend, MacWilde, is?"
Angus set down his fork, sending a look of suspicion towards his Laird. "I have no idea," he said. "In fact, I thought you might know."
"Well, I don't."
...
...
Forty feet below, in a clinically clean and whitewashed room - a harsh juxtaposition from the dirty, crumbling stone of the rest of the castle - a rack of computers and control panels whirred busilley. Their controller, Roderick McKern, unhurriedly moving from one set of controls to another, regally checking the monitor display of the row of small, one-mammal submarines.
Against a wall, his arms chained to the wall by leather straps at the wrist, the figure of a red fox sat idle as the feline moved about the room.
"Any chance of you letting me out of these things?" Nick said.
"Hah. Not a chance in Hell, fox."
"But it's not healthy to be sat on a hard floor like this. I'll get rumertisum, or piles or something.
"Piles will be the least of your worries," Roderick said, crossing to a telephone on the desk. He picked it up and said: "Robert, are you there? You keeping guard of the entrance? Is McGnab on his way yet? Robert?" The feline set the phone down with a grunt. "Properly gone out for a smoke."
"Then it looks like it's just you and me," Nick said. "Better watch out"
Roderick snickered. "Well, Mister MacWilde, I can't see how you'll give me much trouble."
"If you're quite sure..." Nick's gaze turned, looking upwards at his paw, still twisting it back and forth, gradually loosening and loosening the leather cuff around his wrist. "...don't forget what your brother told you: we foxes can be quite tricky."
Not even bothering to look up, the feline at the controls started chuckling. "Oh, really MacWilde, in this state, the only risk you are to me, is making me laugh myself to death!"
...
...
Loading the last of the empty plates onto a trolley, McGnab turned and addressed Ian, the Laird of Castle De'ath. "Is there anything else you wish, Mister Ian?" he said.
"No," Ian sighed, setting his empty glass down on the empty table, "no, McGnab, you go to your bed."
"Thank you, Mister Ian."
"Goodnight, McGnab."
Angus watched silently as McGnab paced out of the room. He turned back to the Laird and spoke, bitterly. "Are you really determined?"
"Aye," said Ian.
"Och, you're a fool."
"You'd call that of anymammal who'd turn down money."
"It's there for the asking!"
Ian smiled as he gazed into his glass. "You seem to forget I have a tradition to uphold."
"Och, your granny, 'you have a tradition to uphold', have you?"
Ian's gaze rose, sharply. "And I'll not have you or anybody flog it at the market."
"You're pompous!" shouted Angus.
"And you're greedy!" shot back Ian.
"Aye, I'll admit I have a liking for money, but that can't be it. What's the matter with you, Ian? Are you scared that a little bit of money'll taint you?" A smug grin grew on the badger's face. "Or is there some other skeleton in the closet?"
Ian stood. "And what do you mean by that?"
Angus stood. "Exactly what I say," he said, marching towards him. "What's the matter, Ian? Why are you so frightened of people coming in here-"
"Shut up!"
"What are you hiding?"
"That's enough!" Ian breathed deeply. "When I get back," he said, slowly, "I will expect you to have left Castle De'ath."
Angus chuckled. "Och, you can push little, bright-eyed bunnies around, but don't try it with me."
"Angus," Ian said, coldly, "I mean what I say. Get out of here."
The badger's expression falling, Angus watched as Ian marched from the room, not saying a single word more. The door opened; the door closed. Angus finished his scotch, then hurtled the glass against the far wall, smashing it to pieces.
...
...
In the control room beneath the castle, the feline, Roderick, glanced up at the clock.
"It's almost time, MacWilde," he said to the fox behind him, "in thirty minutes, the submarines will be sent out into the open waters. And you'll be dragged out with them... without a breathing mask, I might add. I'd better alert the crew." Stretching forwards, the feline flipped a switch. Nothing happened.
"Did that do anything?" Nick said.
"Aye," said Roberten, "it lit up the alert signs in the crewmammals quarters. They'll be suiting up as we speak."
"Crew? How may crewmammals do you have down here?"
"About twelve, I suppose."
"And the De'ath's don't know they're there?"
"One of them knows, of course; he's our chief."
"And the other?"
"Hasnae got a clue."
"So," the fox said, mildly," which De'ath is in charge here anyway?"
"Nice try, Wilde."
Nick smiled. "I suppose that's the thing with these old castles, so many vaults and secret-" Wilde trailed off suddenly. Staying quite still, his ears turned pricked up towards the door. Then, the smallest of smiles crossed his muzzle. "Aah, bless her."
"What?" Roderick said, standing suddenly, "Bless who?"
"The rabbit just outside the door."
There was a clatter from outside. Snatching up his handgun, Roderick bolted to the door, threw it open and made to dash out... then stopped as though he had hit a brick wall, coming face-to-face with the muzzle of a carbine rifle.
"Back against the wall," said Judy in a harsh and cold voice her family would be surprised to know she could muster. "Drop the gun, and don't try anything brave."
The feline obeyed and dropped the gun to the floor - Nick doubted Roderick would have argued with that voice, even if she wasn't armed - and proceeded to back slowly against the wall.
Hopps pointed to a piece of metal on the desk with the end of the gun. "The keys, throw them over."
Again, McKern obeyed. The keys landed with a clink on the floor between the two of them, and Judy stepped fully into the room.
Nick tried to resist, spluttering uncontrollably for a few second before bursting out into laughter.
Somewhat confused as to this reaction, both the rabbit and the feline slowly turned to the fox. They turned back to each other. The feline raised a brow questioningly at the rabbit; the rabbit shrugged in return.
"Carrots," he said, barely mannaging to talk through the laughter, "you look like a little toy solder with that thing!"
Judy's gaze turned slowly towards the fox.
"You know what," he continued, still chuckling, missing the rabbit's deadly expression, "you actually look adorable right now. That gun is way too big for you; it makes you look so tiny and cu-"
"Well if that's how you feel, what do you say I leave you locked up in here?"
"Wait, Hopps!" he shouted as she started to pace from the room, "I didn't mean it!"
Judy turned back in and kick the keys toward the fox, keeping the gun at least loosely trained on the feline against the wall.
Nick slid his tail into the large ring the keys were kept on and raised them to his paw. He dropped them into his hands, and freed himself from the leather cuffs. He stood, rubbing at his wrists, still trying not to laugh just a little.
Judy relented in her harshness just a little, accepting she was happy just to see him alive. Still keeping her gun mostly trained on the feline, Judy moved and stood beside the red fox, leaning into his body a little, happy just to feel his warmth and smell his scent. Sighing contentedly, Judy allowed herself this brief moment of respite, and Nick wrapped his soft tail around her waist in return, smiling fondly.
"Come on, Carrots," Nick said, "let's get back to work before we get detracted."
"Alright," Hopps said, stepping sadly away, "what now, we stand guard here?"
"Depends. When Roderick here tried to phone his brother he couldn't get through. Was he out having a smoke as Roderick said?"
"No. That, was me."
"In that case, when he comes round he's going to want to let somemammal know what's happened. If he tells whichever De'ath is in charge, he could flee, and it'll take a long time to track him down."
"So what do you want me to do," Hopps said, "go back up and confront the De'ath's?"
"Take Roderick's handgun; I'll take the rifle before you trip yourself up. I'll keep things under control down here - from what I hear McGnab'll be down soon - and you go and get things under control upstairs. Think you can handle that?"
"Yeah, should be easy enough. You gonna be okay?"
"Don't worry about me, Fluff," he said, taking the rifle and getting a feel for the weight, "I'll be just fine."
Judy nodded, slipped the handgun into her pocket, and started to pace from the room. She stopped in the doorway and turned back towards the fox with a look of worry in her eyes.
Pacing quickly back toward him, the rabbit took hold of the fox's collar, pulled his head down level with her's, and kissed him softly on the cheek. "Be careful," she said, softly, "we have far too many near-misses in this job; I'd hate to think what I'd do if anything were to happen to you."
Nick slipped his arm around the rabbit. "Carrots," he said, "you and I are at the top of our games. We've had over ten years experience since our first case together with Bellwether; we've come a long way since then - and in a lot of different ways together- so if there's anyone who's most qualified to deal with this situations... it's us."
Sighing, the rabbit nodded, reasserted her control, stepped back from the fox, and paced, again, from the room.
