Hello everyone!

I present to you chapter 10 of Saving Wilde! The first of the "new arc."

I want to warn everyone beforehand that in the chapters that will follow there will be depictions of graphic violence. It wont be gratuitous however, at least not in my opinion.

All reviews, questions, and comments are most welcome, and thank you to all those that have done so thus far.

Anyway, I don't own any Disney characters.

Hope you enjoy!

"Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Stop swishing your tail like that." Nick grinned at Liliya, who was walking around his small Muskova apartment in the nude.

"Oh? You mean like this?" She swished her tail again, rocking her hips. The movement perfectly accentuating her excellent figure.

Nick's grin widened. "You had best be careful Liliya, you may not make it to the bathroom if you keep doing that."

"Is that threat, Timo?" she teased back, leaning on the bathroom door frame, exposing herself to him fully.

"Hurry back," he said simply, winking. And with a soft chuckle, Liliya entered to bathroom and closed the door.

Ah, Liliya... Liliya, Liliya, Liliya. The beautiful Liliya Timoshenko. And what a beauty she was. Supple, lithe, thickly furred in all the right places. An Arctica fox, her pure, lush, white fur one of the things he liked so much about her. She was an excellent companion, both in a bed and out of it. And so she had been for a number of years, or at least, whenever he found himself in Arctica. He had met her in a bar in Muskova four years ago, had somehow charmed her into returning to his apartment, and there they had stayed.

He had loved her once, or so he thought. Had been utterly enraptured by her. She had made him feel alive in a way he hadn't in a long time. But his affections were unrequited. His every gesture and motion towards turning their relationship into a more permanent fixture repudiated. Not unkindly so, she was perhaps even more deft than he at getting what she wanted while making others believe they were getting what they wanted as well. It was part of her allure, really. Nevertheless she had made it clear that they were lovers, nothing more. 'Friends with benefits' was perhaps most apt.

It had been a disappointment for Nick at first. His slow realization that they would never be anything more pained him. But he had come to accept it over time. He had never turned her away, perhaps hoping that the more she spent with him she might reconsider their arrangement for the better. But that had never happened, and while Nick sometimes still wished for what could have been, the present was usually too fun for him to worry about it all too much.

She was a pleasant distraction from his work while he lived in the capital city of the Artician Federation. Work which demanded so much of his time and energy that moments like these were rare and fleeting. Perhaps that was why Liliya had never been interested in anything more. Recognizing that no matter what he said, he would never stay in Artica. Never really be with her. She had no idea what he really did of course, nor his real name, she knew him as Timothy Blackear, well, to her he was Timofey, but that was the same thing in Arctician. He didn't tell her those things because to do so would have been the height of foolishness. Instead she believed he was an investor from Zootopia who would occasionally stop by to check on how his money was being spent. That wasn't entirely false either. Originally it had been simply a cover created for him by the ZIA. They had created his identity from thin air, invested in various companies across Arctica on his behalf, and then allowed him to manage them in his free time, what little of it there was. Over time though, he had gotten himself involved in other ventures, and he sometimes even made money on them. So now his manufactured identity as an entrepreneur wasn't quite so false, which just made the whole thing all the more convincing.

The buzzing of his phone pulled Nick from his reverie. Finnick had sent him a text: Oscar, Oscar, X-ray, OOX. It was a simple code. Just three letters agreed upon beforehand to signify the success or failure of a particular job. In this case the acquiring of something with which to blackmail the Chief of Staff of the Assistant Secretary of the Department of Regulation of State Financial Control, Auditing, Accounting and Records at the Ministry of Finance. It had been discovered that this aid had a certain proclivity for young mammals. Very young. And all they had to do was give him the opportunity to act upon that proclivity for the dumb Ox to hang himself. OOX, Our OX, told Nick that the job had been successful. They now had another informant at the Ministry of Finance, and one well placed to let them better see the inner workings of the Arctician government. And best of all, neither Nick's nor Finnick's paws would ever be found anywhere near this one. The Arctician government had many detractors, both within and without, and it was a simple matter to sick one of the many dissidents upon a government official. That was what they had done with this one. A goat who had been forced out of the Ministry had arranged the whole thing. There was beauty in that, the way it had been run. It was a work of art. Nearly as beautiful as the vixen in his bathroom.

Nick smiled at his phone. Yes, all of it was so beautiful. He sent his reply. He would get together with Finnick in a few hours for a debrief and an update on their various other projects, but for now, that could wait.

Beautiful. The description stuck in his head and he scoffed at it. There was nothing beautiful about letting a pervert destroy some child's innocence simply for the sake gaining an edge in this great game. To call it 'beautiful' just seemed so... wrong. But it was, in its own way. It was an intelligence coup. The kind that one didn't stumble upon often. The effective exploitation of an enemy's weakness was the thing. The source of the terrifying beauty of it all…

Good god's... He was a fucking monst–

"Timofey! You said no more phone!"

"Yes, I know," he said placatingly. "I'm sorry. I just got a text."

Liliya eyed him skeptically. "You promised, Timo."

Ok, ok, it's going away now." And he slung it low along the floor so it slid through the open door into the kitchen. "See? It's really away now." He craned his neck after it when he heard it thud against something. "And see? It may be permanent now."

Liliya giggled, "Good boy. You check phone after," and she began to saunter towards him, rocking her hips seductively, until she stood over him at the bedside. She surveyed the naked fox before her with a predatory gleam in her eyes. "You look delicious, Timo."

He let out a soft chuckle, reached up, offering his paws to her. She accepted, clasping his paws in hers, and he dragged her down upon him. As he did so he winced, a slight pain in his shoulder, and he was briefly reminded of a far more pleasant time, not so long ago.

Nick stepped out of the front door of his apartment building and turned the collar of his coat up against the bite of the wind. It was snowing, lightly, but the closely packed buildings and narrow streets of this part of Muskova made for breezy living no matter the time of year. He surveyed the street briefly, looking for nothing in particular, and moved off, away from his home. It was cold out, more so than he expected, and while he had dressed appropriately, he cursed his natural winter coat for not being thicker.

It was beautiful night in Muskova, despite the cold. Quiet and still. The whole neighborhood pervaded by the peaceful calm only possible when it snowed. Nick liked the snow, could stare up into the sky for ages and watch as the hundreds of millions of tiny white flakes fell from the heavens. It was calming, the tiny specks of ice settling upon his face, it helped him think. And now, on this walk, he needed to think.

Events were were moving quite rapidly these days. About 10 years ago, Arctica had experienced a period of intense internal strife, and for a time it looked as though the the entire country would dissolve into civil war. In an effort to stave off disaster, the central government of Arctica, commonly known as the Krasnydom after the fortress in which the parliament was held, had given its various provinces an unprecedented amount of autonomy. It worked, and the country stabilized, but it also gave the provincials a taste for the sort of self determination that could not be tolerated in a unified nation state.

And the consequences of that were finally being felt. Three months ago, one of the southern most provinces, Ossetia, had declared its independence from the Arctician Federation and formed the Independent Mammals Republic of Ossetia. It did not come as a total shock to anyone who had been paying attention. Rumors had been flying all over the world for nearly six months before that not all was well in the little province of Ossetia.

Ossetia was not an important province by any means, rather, it was one of the poorer, less developed parts of Arctica. It had been neglected by the Krasnydom for decades. Funding for public works projects and infrastructure, earmarked for the region, was often diverted elsewhere, to places deemed more important. That state of affairs left the mammals discontented with their Federal Government, and their new found autonomy only fed the narrative that they would be better off outside of the Federation. All of this had been long in the making, ten years in fact, longer even. But all the frustrations, anger, and fear had finally pushed the people of the province past the point of no return. They ousted their parliament, declared their independence, and at the same time, also declared that they were prepared to defend it.

All this created a problem for the Krasnydom. They had never liked what they had been forced to do, and ever since they had given the provinces what basically amounted to pseudo-statehood they had worked to regain their grip on the nation. Ossetia was not an important province. Far from it, the Krasnydom's perspective was that the whole place could have sunk into the ocean never to be seen again, and that would have been ok. Unfortunate of course, but such is life. And perhaps that would have been better for the Ossetians anyway, because now they were creating a precedent that Arctica, nor any nation state for that matter, simply couldn't tolerate. Under no circumstance could Arctica allow one of her provinces to secede. To do so would be to delegitimize the nation as a whole, and it would fall apart. Split into various rump states all vying for control, for hegemony.

No they could not tolerate that. It was all so very clear to anyone watching.

War was coming.

The buildup had been obvious. Nick constantly fed information back to Zootopia, but such a large mobilization of forces couldn't have been missed by anyone. 125,000 troops, 423 tanks, more than 1000 other armored vehicles were moved to the border of the nascent republic all organized under the new 64th Army. In addition, three Combat Helicopter Regiments, two Assault Aviation regiments, and one Fighter Aviation Regiment totaling more than 180 attack helicopters, 40 tactical bombers, 27 fighters, and various other support aircraft was attached to the 64th. It was a massive commitment for such a small region, but Muskova wanted to make the message clear: Stay or die.

And die they did. The invasion had started barely two weeks before, but already the 64th Army was at the gates of the Ossetia's new capital, Gromney. An assault was imminent. It would be bloody, very bloody. Storming a city always was, even against an opponent with decidedly inferior firepower and organization. But Nick had no doubt that Gromney would fall and with it the remaining resistance in Ossetia.

In response to all these events, the Zootopian Intelligence Committee had asked him to assess the viability of supplying the Ossetians with weapons. The mammals in charge back home were always ready to kick their geopolitical rivals when they were down. But Nick, and indeed most of his staff, felt it far too risky with far too little gain. If Zootopian weapons started showing up in the hands of Arctician separatists in large numbers it would have created an incident. Set a bad precedent. Instead, they sold them information. Troop movements, dispositions, even reports on the discussions being had in the Krasnydom. All of this they needed desperately, as they had no means to acquire most of that on their own.

The snow was falling heavier then as Nick continued his trek across the neighborhoods of Muskova. He looked about him, admiring the way the snow defused the streetlights, casting everything in a warm orange glow. He stopped halfway down a row of apartments, looked up into the sky, and let his concerns about this little war fall away, he could talk all about them with Finnick when he got to his partner's apartment. For now, and for the rest of the walk, he wished to think of nothing.

Something prickled at the edge of his vision then, as he tried to clear his head of everything. And he could have sworn, for just a second, he saw someone standing across the street, watching him. But when he looked there was no one there, and the snow on the opposite sidewalk lay undisturbed by any passerby.

He had seen her again. As he had often done over these last few months. A shape in the corner of his vision somehow tricking his mind into putting her there. It had frustrated him at first, that somehow she had invaded his mind and made it fill every blank space with an image of her. It was strange, how much he still thought about her. Had believed that she would simply pass through the archive of his mind like so many before her and be forgotten. But she had refused the go so quietly into the night. The irony was not lost in Nick. That the memory of her was just as tenacious as the genuine article. He wished the best for her, truly, whatever that ended up looking like. He still really wasn't sure he believed she would make it as a cop, but he supposed that if any rabbit could do it, it would be her. He hoped at the very least she had put his gift to good use. Hoped it would soften her reaction to her inevitable discovery that he wasn't what he said he was. That regardless of whether or not he was a cop, the things he had told her, all of his best wishes and encouragement, all of that was real.

He had sent her 5,000 Bucks, and the latest study material for not only the ZPD entrance exam but for much of the academy. It was the least he could do really. Figured she could use the extra money to get herself set up in the city if she didn't blow it all just trying to get into the ZPD in the first place.

She was a strange rabbit, far different than his normal conception of what a rabbit should be. She stood out, and he hoped she never lost that. She had been a refreshing presence in his life for the short time they knew each other. He understood that more now that he had some distance from it all.

He continued on walking, the snow crunching softly beneath his feet, ruminating on the rabbit that seemed stuck in his head. He wanted to keep his promise. The one he had made to her as they stood there in the darkness in front of her burrow. To go to her graduation from the ZPD Academy. If she ever had one. She hadn't even joined yet, he knew that much. Had made it a point to monitor the applicants and trainees. Had sort of a detached curiosity about the whole thing. Could a rabbit really become a cop? He harbored no illusions that the ZPD was some sort of elite organization only open to the very best society could offer. It was a police force, not some secretive, and very useful, military organization that was only known by some silly name like 'The Unit'. But nevertheless it still required some sort of physical minimums. He had no doubt she would be fine when it came to exams and studying. She had a sharp mind, and a part of him had often wondered if she was wasting her talents in becoming a police officer. But how could a tiny little bunny take down a Rhino? Actually… to be fair his training included a lot of dissimilar opponent combat, and he knew how to take down much larger mammals than himself. But the nature of his training was vastly different than what would be acceptable for a cop. As a cop you couldn't cut a hamstring or kick them in the balls, and your first inclination certainly wouldn't be to shoot them. You had to apprehend your targets more or less intact, alive too.

Eh, she would figure something out. She had to join first anyway... What the hell was taking her so long? It had been nearly 4 months. That should have been plenty of time to study and get all her shit together. She had better not have given up on it again. Not after he sent her all that crap. It hadn't been cheap, and he wouldn't appreciate it if she had squandered the only physical manifestation of his goodwill. Damn bunny.

Shit, now he was annoyed with her, and for no good reason too. Damn bunny.

He turned into an alleyway and walked down a short flight of stairs that terminated at a door. He would have to forget about her for now and he was almost thankful for the distraction. He had work to do.

He reach up towards the door, knocked twice, waited… waited… knocked five times, and then took a step back, watching the door expectantly. He was rewarded by the clanking sound of deadbolts unlocking, a large number of them too. Finnick had installed at least 7 on this door. Paranoid bastard. It swing inwards, just barely.

"You're early Nick."

"Only by 15 minutes," he replied, glancing at the clock on his phone. It read 9:47 PM.

"Yeah, well we agreed on 10." Finnick shot back, clearly annoyed with him though Nick could not understand why.

"Gods Finnick, who fucking cares? Let me in! It's cold out here."

"Ok, ok," Finnick let out an exasperated sigh, "gimme a minute."

"Are you serious? You are just gonna make me stand out here, in the cold, while you screw around?"

Finnick looked Nick square in the eye and said matter of factly, "Yes," and then closed the door, locking it with a loud and purposeful click.

"Bastard," Nick said under his breath. He wondered what Finnick could be hiding that he would make him wait out there. He stepped nearer the door and listened intently. Voices, he could hear voices. One was certainly Finnick, the robust depth and tenor of the sound was evident even through the door. But the other was something different, something altogether more delicate. A vixen, that's what it sounded like, Finnick was hiding a vixen. He laughed to himself, the situation so juvenile. What did he care what Finnick was doing in his free time? As long as it didn't impact his work… the pieces clicked into place then and Nick's curiosity piqued.

He heard a sound behind the door, the click of the latch releasing, and once again Finnick appeared before him, looking a little worse for wear. He gestured for Nick to enter, and the offer was gratefully accepted.

Nick surveyed the small living room, anxious to discover clues surrounding this new little mystery. The place was a mess, clothes strewn across the couches, empty boxes of every description scattered about the room. Computer equipment was everywhere. Wires snaking off in every direction. But one of the things on the couch was not like the rest. There was a purse sitting next to a small pile of boxes filled with file folders and documents. Black leather, with a large gold clasp embossed with the letter C. Nick tested the air. The place reeked of Finnick, as one would expect, but amongst all the accompanying scents there was another that just didn't seem to belong. It was a scent he recognized but couldn't place. Curious.

Nick gave Finnick a sideways glance.

"What?" Finnick said defensively.

Nick shrugged. "It's even worse than the last time I was here."

"Well then tell the idiots at the Embassy to stop sending me their shit! I got even more boxes yesterday! And why aren't they send you this crap?"

Nick grinned at his partner. "I never told them where I lived."

Finnick stared at him for one long moment, incredulous. Then he threw up his arms and exclaimed, "Are you fucking kidding me? I didn't have to tell them that? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought you knew. You know why we aren't working out of there this time, why would we have told them where our places are?"

Finnick let out an exasperated sigh. "Godsdamnit, you should have told me."

"I probably did."

Ah, the scent, he located the trail. The bedroom. The door to the bedroom was behind Finnick, but he could smell the foreign scent even with Finnick in the way. He had him distracted though, fussing with the mess, and he hadn't noticed the purse. Nick casually strode by his partner, and approached the door. He placed his paw on the door and for moment, again wondered why doors these days seemed to make him uneasy. As if behind each one was a monster waiting to pounce.

"Wait, Nick, don't you dare open–" Finnick noticed him, but it was far too late, the door was already swinging open. And there, sitting on the bed in nothing but a tee shirt and underwear, working on a laptop, was Jackie Gleason, an analyst from the embassy.

They stared at one another for moment, and then, breaking the silence, Nick said, "Well, you're not who I expected to be in here. How's it going Jackie?"

Jackie chucked ashamedly, "Pretty good Nick, how about yourself?"

"Eh, about the–"

Finnick exclaimed, "Godsdamnit Nick, I told you never to open that fucking door!"

"Finnick!" Jackie shouted at him from her place on the bed. "Stop it! You know I hate it when you yell like that. So Nick, you were saying?" she continued with a pleasant smile.

Nick glanced back a Finnick and saw that he looked about ready to explode, but surprisingly he held his tongue. Impressive.

"So, you and Finnick, eh?" He eyed the two skeptically.

"What? So what if she's bigger than me?" Finnick jumped on the question, reading into it far too deeply.

"Hah! A little insecure there Finnick? No, I just thought the two of you hated each other," Nick said, referring to a number of incidents between the two of them the last time Finnick was in Arctica. Jackie was a grey fox who had been working in the Zootopian embassy in Muskova for nearly six years. She had a very good grasp of the situation of the ground and was an invaluable resource, but she and Finnick had often not seen things eye to eye when it came to which sources they should trust and pursue, and Jackie was no less headstrong than he, which lead to more than a few rows in Nick's old office.

Jackie chuckled, eyeing Finnick playfully who said in a tone which made evident his frustration, "We reconciled our differences."

"Clearly," Nick replied, shooting Jackie a wink.

She returned it with a mischievous smile. "I could just never stay mad at him, he is like a little teddy bear."

Nick burst out laughing, the sound drowning out Finnick's furious reply. Yes, this was probably a good thing, though he wasn't exactly happy that this was how he found out. He would have to commiserate with her later on how to best push Finnick's buttons. But, there was still a problem.

"So," Nick continued once he recovered, his tone suddenly serious, "I don't really care what you two do in your free time, but if it impacts your work at all, neither of you will enjoy the outcome. Do you both understand?" They both nodded meekly, caught off guard by the sudden shift. "Good," Nick said, backing out of the bedroom. "Now Jackie, I really hate to do this to you, but you gotta leave."

They both stared at him incredulously before they each launched into demands for explanations and flat out refusals. Nick silenced them both by raising his paw and said, "You are not privy to much of what we are about to discuss, need to know and all that. So I cannot have you sitting in this room where you are liable to become privy to it. I just can't have that."

"Nick," Finnick replied, "she won't hear shit through the door, and she already knows about all this anyway."

"Seriously Nick, you have basically kept me in the loop for everything this time around. I won't hear anything I don't already know about," Jackie jumped in. "But," she offered, "if it would make you feel more comfortable I will put in headphones or something."

"That's perfect," Finnick filled the gap before Nick could reply, "no need to kick her out into the cold. Besides where do you expect her to go?"

Nick looked between the two of them, confused at what he had just heard. "You live here?" he said to Jackie.

Again they both launched into explanations. No, of course she didn't live there, don't be silly, she just apparently spent all her free time at Finnick's place. And, oh, by the way she hadn't been back to her apartment in three months, and oh yeah, she stopped paying rent on it two months ago.

Nick closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose and made a frantic gesture to silence them both. "Ok whatever, I don't care. You can stay Jackie, but put on those headphones."

She smiled sweetly at him. "You're the best Nick!"

Nick rolled his as eyes and began to close the door. "Yeah yeah, it was good to see you Jackie." She waved at him as the door closed, her smile only growing wider.

Nick let out a long, exasperated sigh, he was not happy about this arrangement. It wasn't that he didn't trust Jackie, far from it. He just hated making exceptions to these sorts of rules. That was how agents got into trouble, how he got into trouble.

"I told you not to open the door," said Finnick reacting to his sigh.

Nick gave him a look that made it clear that now was not the time. "Next time we have one of these meetings Finnick, she is not to be here, do you understand?"

"Well, where is she supposed to go?" Finnick shot back.

"I don't care, anywhere but here. You know better Finnick. I shouldn't have to remind you how important opsec is. Violating that shit is how mammals get fucking killed. Pulling this kind of garbage is not what I expected from you."

Finnick, who had still been spoiling for a fight, visibly deflated, and he looked away.

"I know Nick, but–"

"Finnick, you know one of the reasons why I got my dumb ass blown up back in the Docks? It was because I was careless and didn't follow protocol. A hamster is dead because of me and I almost followed him. I am not going to let that happen again."

Nick let him chew on that for a moment. He didn't like reprimanding his staff, and certainly not Finnick, who's history with him went far beyond the ZIA, sometimes however it was necessary. But he didn't wish to prolong the pain.

"Now," Nick clapped his paws together, "what have you got for me Finnick?"

Finnick, clearly still smarting, sat down in front of one of the computers and brought up a spreadsheet. It was a rough checklist they used to keep track of things. That particular computer was one of the few in the room not connected to the internet, and they used it for much of their internal documentation. Better to be safe than sorry.

"The Nikodim op went well, as you know. When our agent showed him the footage he basically bent over backwards trying to make sure our mammal would keep quiet. He has given us access to his email and network account, and he promised to forward us his personal notes on all the meetings he attends."

"We don't need to turn the screws at all huh?" Nick asked rhetorically, "Thats a good outcome. Good job."

Finnick grunted his thanks, still reluctant to make eye contact. Shit, now he was just making Nick feel bad.

"How's the war going?" Nick asked.

"Bad." Finnick replied.

"Oh really?" Nick said, furrowing his brow, unsure of what Finnick meant.

"Yeah, really bad. The assault on Gromney started about 7 hours ago, and they've already bogged down. The reports we have gotten from Colonel Veselov… you remember him right?" Finnick asked, noticing the look of incomprehension upon Nick's face.

Nick pondered the name for a moment. Veselov, Veselov… No it didn't ring a bell. Though so many names crossed his desk these days it was hard to keep them all together. "Remind me." he finally said.

Finnick sighed, rolling his eyes. "He's the colonel who we turned by ensuring his kid got into the Zootopian Institute of Technology? He's a stag I think. Also had a big problem with the military being used against its own mammals."

"Oh yeah, I remember him. He was the one who was assigned as a communication officer to the 64th's HQ." It didn't always require nasty things like blackmail to get what you wanted in this business, Nick reflected. Though being nice usually only got you so far. "How's his kid doing by the way?"

"How should I know?" Finnick replied.

"Oh come now Finnick, I know you're the sentimental type." Nick said sarcastically. "You keep tabs on him don't you?"

Finnick affixed him with a cold stare and Nick couldn't help but snicker. Ah, it was good to see he was getting over the scolding.

"Anyway," Finnick continued, "the reports we have gotten so far have been bad. The assaults have been a disaster. In 7 hours they have lost about 30 tanks and more than twice that number in APCs."

"Casualty reports?"

"Nothing concrete yet," Finnick shook his head, "a lot of conflicting information has been coming in, but at least five hundred, probably more. The Ossetians were much better equipped and organized than Muskova expected I guess."

The Ossetians could never have beaten Arctician forces in the open. They simply didn't have the equipment or training. Zeal only gets one so far. So for the last two weeks they had constantly conceded ground, and it looked like the things would be over quickly. But apparently they weren't totally out of the fight yet. It was smart, fighting in the city. A big advantage of modern equipment was that it allowed soldiers to hit things from far away, before they were spotted and the enemy could effectively return fire. Much of that advantage was nullified in the city however, where engagement ranges could be measured in the tens of meters rather than hundreds and thousands. There were ways to fight effectively in a city, but no matter how proficient a force might be, fighting in built up areas was always costly. And not just for the soldiers.

"Any reports on civilian casualties?"

"Nothing yet, though as you know a lot of mammals decided not to leave, and the new PM refused to allow the parliament to abandon the city just yet."

"Would certainly be bad for morale."

"Yeah…" Finnick trailed off, reading something on a laptop, "Looks like, Mammal Right Watch is already reporting 25,000 civilian casualties so far in this little war. 150,000 displaced too."

"Why do they even bother?" Nick scoffed. "Everyone knows there is no way to verify those figures yet."

"Yeah it just hurts their credibility, but then they'll do anything to take a shot at Muskova, eh?"

"Is this the order of battle for the assault forces?" Nick asked, picking up a printout.

"Uhhh, yeah…" Finnick replied, glancing at the printout and then rooting around the rest of the piles of paper. "There is another page… here it is." He handed Nick another sheet.

"Good gods, most of these regiments are conscripts... " he said, glancing over the sheets. "They kept the fucking 17th Guards Motorized Rifle Division in reserve, what the hell are they doing?"

Finnick shrugged. "I think that was the marching order as they came up to the city. I guess they thought they could take it from the march. Oh, it looks like they lost two helicopters too."

Nick grunted. "Well, that is all pretty embarrassing for them, but one bad assault does not end a battle. We will have to see how it goes over the next few days."

"Or weeks." Finnick added, and Nick nodded in agreement. Finnick was right, if the Ossetians continued to make them fight for the city like they had on the first day, this would be a long battle. It was too early to tell though. Very little could be determined by one day of fighting.

"All these reports have been forwarded to the Embassy?"

"Well," Finnick began, "I summarized them before I sent them over, but they know."

"Good, good…" Nick trailed off, still looking at the printouts in his paws. Poor bastards. To take a defended city without getting torn to shreds in the process you needed to know what you were doing. The units listed before him assuredly did not. Most of them had been raised specifically to crush this little rebellion, the soldiers in them reservists, little more than weekend warriors. Such was the state of the Arctician military that they tended to fill out out their ranks with conscripts and reservist in times of crisis. It usually meant high casualties as first, at least until everyone figured out what they were doing, and it came as no surprise that their first time in a city had gone badly. Further, that they had tried to take the city on the fly, apparently believing it only lightly defended. That told him that the Arctician intelligence apparatus must have been struggling to keep up with the war. An illuminating revelation, if that was truly the lesson that could be learned. He made a mental note to look into it further.

"Alright." He placed the printouts back down upon the table. "Let's go over the rest of it then."

And so they did, Nick digesting each new information point as Finnick covered everything. Their successes, failures, the statuses of their various agents, reports and orders from home, and everything else that went into running an intelligence network in hostile territory.

"We will need to rewire the Ministry of the Interior building."

"How many of the bugs did they find?"

"Nearly half."

"Did they figure out who placed them?"

"No, it doesn't look like it."

"Ok, don't use him again. Get someone else to do it."

And on they went, meandering through their numerous operations late into the night. They finished it all eventually, digested everything, issued orders to their various actors all across Arctica. It was a big job to handle by themselves, just the two of them managing what amounted to hundreds of mammals all told. Though perhaps that was overstating the task, neither of them had to do everything. This wasn't Nick's first party, he knew how to delegate.

Nick glanced at the clock on his phone, 1:17 AM. It had been a long day, though his evening had certainly been pleasant, and he was in no mood to make the trek back to his apartment. "Finnick, I'm just gonna crash here tonight, alright?" He laid down on one of the couches.

"Whatever, Nick... Oh, looks like some real casualty returns are coming in."

"That was fast, read 'em."

"38th Motorized Rifle Division is reporting 107 dead, 282 wounded, 147 missing. Looks like they got the worst of it."

"Bullshit. In one day?"

"Yeah I don't know, that seems like a lot. That just can't be right," Finnick replied, rereading the report.

"Don't forward that until we know more. There is no way the 38th took 500 casualties in one day of fighting. What are the other divisions reporting?"

"53rd Motorized Rifle Division is reporting…" And he listed the figures for each participating division in turn, both Motorized Rifle and Tank. It had been a bad day for the 64th Army, regardless of whether or not they had inflated their casualty reports. It had devoted four of its 11 divisions to the assault, the remaining seven arrayed on the flanks of the assault group, and those four had been bloodily repulsed, though that wasn't quite right, it seemed the 17th Guards hadn't even been committed, and the weather had prevented any sort of air support aside from the attack helicopters. Tomorrow was another day though. They would take the city eventually. Each Motorized Rifle Division had an on paper strength of 13,200 mammals, though actual front line combat strength was closer to 9,500. While the one Tank Division had an on paper strength of about 11,500 mammals and 245 tanks. In actuality, each Rifle division committed, the 38th and 53rd, had about 10,000 mammals in their ranks, and a combat strength of around 8,000 mammals, while the 109th Tank Division had about 7,500 mammals and 155 tanks. The 17th Guards had 12,375, or at least they did two days before. Of course, perhaps only 3,500 troops had entered the City that day, giving the Ossetians a clear local numerical advantage. A good rule of thumb for the sort of forces needed to successfully execute an assault was that the attacker needed a force ratio of 3:1 in their favor. In a city you needed even more. The Arctician forces hadn't achieved that, far from it. In fact, it was nearly the exact opposite. According to Nick's sources the Ossetian forces in Gromney had about 8,500 soldiers and 43 tanks. Older ones too, UT-82s, not the UT-90s fielded by the Arctician forces. Though those numbers would undoubtedly swell in the coming days, but given the overall balance of forces, it was inevitable that the city should fall. But the Arcticians had lost their best chance to do it quickly. Both sides would now pour mammals and equipment into the grinder. The Ossetians would not sell their capital cheaply.

Gromney would fall, and with it the dream of Ossetian independence, but it clearly wasn't going down without a fight. But then perhaps not. Many put too much importance on cities. He wished them the best really, but at this point, that was all he could do.

"Is there anything else pressing Finn?" he asked quietly from his position on the couch.

"No that's it, it looks like." He glanced over at Nick when he didn't respond, but his partner was already asleep.

Thats all for chapter 10, hope you enjoyed it! I have some interesting things in store for Nick, so stay tuned!

I hope no one got lost in all the numbers, I admit I wrote much of that simply for my own edification. I have been reading a lot of David Glantz lately, so it has gotten me into the mood to write about a campaign. If anyone is interested in the Eastern Front of WW2, I highly recommend him.

Again, all reviews and questions are welcome.

Be well everyone!