Rumpleteazer, Jemima and Electra sat alone in a corner talking animatedly. Tumblebrutus had finally stopped convulsing and changing colour, though his fur still glimmered with energy. The two queens were discussing the recent turn of events. "Cori and tam said that he's going to be ok though," Rumpleteazer said, putting her arm around the teen. Electra sniffed, wiping tears from her eyes. "It was just so scary. To see him like that … it was as if he wasn't himself." Jemima cuddled up to her litter mate. "He'll be ok," she said. Rumpleteazer's attention was draw to a pair of small figure scurrying across the den, heading for Jenny's den. The calico queen pounced, pinning one of the figures to the ground. The mouse wriggled, trying to get free. To her surprise the other target, an insect of some sort, attacked her paw, attempting to free the mouse rather than escape. "Help!" squeaked the trapped mouse.
Rumpleteazer recoiled in surprise. Mice didn't normally speak, unless... "What're you doing here?" she hissed. The mouse and bug made a dash for it. "I'm ordering you to report in," Rumpleteazer snapped. The pair froze. "Miss Teazer?" the mouse asked. "Is that you?" "Well who else would it be?" the calico queen replied. Jemima and Electra stuck their heads around their cousin, looking at the strange pair. "Who are they?" Jemima asked. "Warrant Officer Thomas of the first Rodent Reconnaissance Corp," the mouse introduced himself. "And Lieutenant Gustavo of the third cockroach assault regiment," The bug finished. The cats looked at them blankly. Electra whispered in Rumpleteazer's ear. "How can they speak?" she muttered. "I would guess that my mother taught them," Rumpleteazer replied at normal volume, almost questioning rodent. "That is correct miss," Gustavo nodded. "Now could you inform us of the location of Brigadier Anydots?" Rumpleteazer pointed towards the den that her mother and father shared within the complex. "Thank you miss," the cockroach responded, pulling off a strange, two-legged salute, before scuttling off.
Her cousins looked with wide, surprised eyes at Rumpleteazer. She stared back, a bemused look on her feline face. "What?" she finally asked. "Who, in Bast's name, were they?" Jemima asked. "Warrant Officer Thomas and Lieutenant Gustavo. Weren't you listening?" Jemima felt smacking her friend, but restrained herself. "What were a speaking cockroach and mouse doing looking for your mother?" Rumpleteazer sighed. "They're members of the mice and cockroach groups that my mother trains. Mostly it's music, crochet and tatting, but she's also been teaching them to speak, read, write and subjecting them to military training." "How could you tell they were members of your mother's group?" Jemima asked. Rumpleteazer grinned. "Gustavo. He had the beetle tattoo she designed on his back. No other cockroaches have that mark."
Gustavo and Thomas sat in the feline den, feeling distinctly out of place. Jenny and Skimble sat opposite them, with Munkustrap and Old Deuteronomy presiding. "You're sure about this?" Deuteronomy pressed the cockroach. "Absolutely sir," the insect confirmed. Munkustrap turned to Jenny. "And you're sure we can trust them?" the Gumbie cat nodded. "I would trust them with my kitten's lives," she responded. The protector shook his head. "Your ... soldier ... saw a cat matching that description?" he asked the cockroach again. "Long white fur, slightly tattered looking, no collar yet well cared for and we retrieved this," he said, nudging the mouse sitting next to him. The rodent reached into a bag he was carrying and withdrew a locket. Inside was an etching of a fearsome looking cat with one ear, one eye and tabby fur. "Certainly fits the description," Munkustrap muttered. "One ear somewhat missing, one forbidding eye. This could well be Growltiger." Skimble voiced what they were all thinking. "Only one long haired white would be carrying a picture of Growltiger." He turned to the two soldiers. "I would say it is probable that you've found Griddlebone's lair."
Jennyanydots ordered the two warriors to return to the stationmaster's house, and to continue observing suspect cats. George meanwhile had contacted some associates of his. The cat, done up as the Great Rumpus Cat, glared around. It was a mark of the respect that his alter ego commanded that he was still alive, let alone where he was. The Pollicles stared at him, canine mistrust in their eyes. A Welsh Collie and Irish Wolfhound stood on either side of him, making sure he didn't suddenly attack the pack. The dog whom he had come to see sat above them, staring down with calculating eyes. Frey growled. "Why have you come here, cat?" the Alsatian asked. "I wish to talk with your Alpha on a matter of great importance to both your pack and my tribe. The alpha silenced the beta with a wave of her paw. Freya stalked down from her commanding position to speak muzzle to face with the cat. Female alphas in dogs packs were rare, but not unheard of. "You have long been a friend to our pack, Rumpus. But it is the height of irregularity for a cat to seek and audience, despite your honoured position. This you must understand." "I understand the great privilege being done to me," the cat responded. A highland terrier spoke up at this point. "We all know the debt that the Rumpus Cat is owed by our pack, ever since the great battle. He helped us drive off the Peke, Pug and Pom Alliance, without any bloodshed. I say we hear what he has to say. A basset and poodle agreed loudly with this, which was responded to by a Great Dane and Dalmatian starting to bark at them. Soon the entire tribe was barking and it took a menacing growl from Frey to bring quiet. "Thank you brother" the alpha nodded. "We will listen to our honoured friend," she declared.
George quickly outlined the situation with Macavity and the suspicion that all was not as it seemed. At the mention of the Napoleon of Crime a great growl went up, only to be quieted by Freya and Frey. The German Sheppards bid their guest go on. When he finally reached the end of his tale, the dogs were aghast. Freya shook her head sadly. "We have been having troubles with the Hidden Paw ourselves. His henchcats grow bolder and bolder each day. We have even had to start chasing them off of our territory," she said, gesturing to the park that surrounded them. "That Firefrorefiddle or the Terror of the Thames might have returned is particularly troubling. But I am afraid I have more bad news for you." The Pollicle Alpha paused, clearing her throat. "We have information that Macavity has started employing strays. Canine strays." George hissed. By human standards most of the Jellicles and Pollicles would qualify as strays, meaning that most of them wore collars to stop them from being picked up by animal control, but there was a separate class of canine and feline renegades that even they called stray or feral. These animals were tribe or packless, with no loyalty or inhibitions. They were the go to choice when the criminal tribes and packs wanted hired muscle.
"Dogs?" George mewed, uncertain he had heard correctly. "Vicious dogs," Freya confirmed. "Caucasian Shepards, Pit Bulls, Bull Terriers and the like." George rubbed his eyes. "How is he controlling them?" he asked. "We do not know, though I would suspect that food plays a large role." The cat nodded. "I thank you for talking with me. But now I must return to my tribe." Freya nodded. "Hamish and Llewellyn will escort you. This is no time for honest cats or dogs to wander the streets alone." George nodded as his guards, the Highland Terrier and Collie, joined him. "I will now take my leave," the cat said, but before he could turn to go, Freya yapped for him to stay a moment. "You should tell Old Deuteronomy that we will side with you. He has done much to improve relationships between our people, and I have the utmost faith in him. If you need us, you need only ask."
Back in the junkyard, Rumpleteazer and Jemima had snuck out of the bunker to do some hunting. It felt good to have the wind in their fur and the moonlight on their skin. A shout hailed them from atop a pile of rubbish. It was Mungojerrie. "Teazer, Jemmi, come up here. You've got to see this he called, before scampering over the crest of the trash and disappearing from sight. The queens gave chase, rounding the top of the pile to reveal nothing. No sign of Mungojerrie, no sign of anything worth seeing. The queens trotted down into a valley formed by the rubbish piles surrounding it. "Jerrie," Rumpleteazer called out. "Where are you?" "Over here," came the reply, as if it were a breath of wind given voice. "No over here," came another cry, from the other direction. "Come this way," declared a third voice. "Something's wrong," Jemima muttered. Rumpleteazer nodded. The queens turned to leave, but were brought face to face with the slavering jaws of two great hounds. There was no time to scream or shout, they just ran. The dogs gave chase, but they were not as agile as the cats. But their longer leg length was playing to their advantage, and they gained in the pair."Get back to the den," Rumpleteazer ordered. "I'll lead them off." Jemima shook her head as they ran. "I'm not leaving you out here," she hissed, but it was too late. Rumpleteazer had doubled back, leaping over the heads of the dogs and leading them in the opposite direction.
Jemima reached the entrance to the communal den, hammering on the door. "Let me in," she yelled. "Help me." The door swung open, and she tumbled into the lap of Erik. "What were you doing out there?" he asked incredulously. "No time to explain. Get the protectors. Rumpleteazer and Mungojerrie are still out there, and there are dogs after them."
Rumpleteazer squeezed down a pipe that was too narrow for the dogs to follow easily. She staggered out on the other side, looking around. Mungojerrie stood there, the moonlight sparkling off his striped fur. "What's goin' on?" he asked. "Dogs..." Rumpleteazer breathed heavily, clutching a stitch in her side. "They chased ... me and Jemima." Mungojerrie put his arms around her. "Don't worry babe. You're safe here." Rumpleteazer didn't see the burly cat that grabbed her from behind, didn't see the strong arms that clamped over her throat and choked the life out of her. The last thing she saw, before the blackness took her, was Mungojerrie. Standing there and grinning.