"Cut!" The man holding the megaphone barked. "Okay everybody, that's a wrap for Episode Ten! Check with Sonja in the break room about your next script assignments, and drive home safe for Christ's sake! We can't afford to hire new actors from here on out!"

Equipment rolled on dollies back to the storage sheds, and Dingo watched it all go. To and fro, crew wound up microphone and power cables and started going through the rhythm of closing the studio down.

He grumbled, massaging his shoulder. He'd landed hard when Wolf threw him during the last take. And not just once. He could have sworn that Wolf forgot to face the camera on purpose just so he could throw him a few more times, just for his own amusement.

"Bugger." He slunk out of the studio and out into the sunlight. He was relieved by how much cooler it was outside with no blistering stage lights turning it into an oven. He pulled a rag out of his pocket and wiped the sweat off of his brow.

Dingo looked down at the grubby fabric, smeared with foundation, and he grimaced. He missed being able to do something normal, human, without it coming off of him in droplets. He was used to boiling water with bugs and dirt in it to drink, sniping 'roos with a crossbow on the back of a moving truck. This wasn't natural to him.

"Missing the Outback, Dingo?"

He didn't startle when he heard the voice. "Every bloody day, Fox. Every bloody day." He grumbled. "How you manage to walk so quiet in boots like that, I'll never know."

"Trained for everything." She smiled. "Even being quiet in high heels."

She still looked ready for the camera. In spite of the endless, repetitive choreographed fights they'd shot that day, her beauty was bulletproof. The scene she'd shot that day called for a cocktail dress that sparkled with embedded glitter and tulle around her bare shoulders. Her hair was as long, red, and full as the tail of the animal she was named for. On her right eye was a simple blue tattoo, the silhouette of the head of a fox.

"I'm getting tired of this." He tucked his handkerchief back into the pocket. "I thought this would be a fun gig, but now? I hate showbiz."

"It gets better." Fox shrugged. She pulled a cigarette out of the waistband of her dress. "Got a light?"

"I don't smoke, you know that." Dingo rolled his eyes. "Any word from our real boss? Wolf's been evasive about his employer."

"You expect a ninja assassin from an entire clan of ninja assassins to be forthright and straightforward?" Fox scoffed. "If you believe that, I have a bridge to sell you."

"Cute. Now, answer."

Fox looked sadly at her cigarette. She put it away, folding her arms. "He'll be here tonight to brief us on our next few steps. We have more work to do."

"More?" Dingo gave her a strange look. "I thought we were laying low."

"Change of plans. Apparently, there's been some good news."

Dingo tsked. "Change plans here, change plans there, go back to the old one, do this, do that. Having one boss was simpler. But three? I don't know who's nuttier; them, or me for following 'em."

Fox shrugged, not committing to any answer other than a sly grin.

Dingo looked at her. "Are you having fun with this? It's chaos!"

"Chaos is fun, Dingo. You should learn to embrace it, it's liberating." She patted him on his shoulder, a little too forcefully, and he flinched. She walked away, making a point of walking audibly this time, letting her heels click on the pavement. "Usual place, usual time."

"I'll be there." He grunted.

That evening, the skyline slowly turned pale gold, then burned a heated orange as golden hour came and passed. The red streaks of cloud, like the red hot coils of a stove, swirled over the harbor. Lights in windows snapped on in buildings across the city, slowly, like a hundred million eyes blinking awake after a long day's sleep. Inside the studio, it was dark, save for one light on in the security office.

There was a card table in the middle of the room, the cameras and monitors off. There were no humans anywhere in the building. Only the Pack.

"Should've folded, Jackal." Hyena gloated as she set her cards down. "Full house."

Jackal swore under his breath, throwing down his hand. Two Pair, with 8s high. "You cheated."

"You know the rules." Hyena raked the striped plastic disks in towards her with her glittering gold claws. "It only counts if you catch me. I win."

Wolf scoffed. In the corner, he sat perched on a crate full of sound equipment, looking out the window at the darkening city, long white ponytail catching the last rays of the sun.

Hyena looked up at him, her narrow and pointed features twisting into a wicked smile. "Having fun pretending to be Batman over there, Bradford? Quit being such a sourpuss and get over here, I'll deal you in."

"I have better things to do with my time than play rigged games of cards." He turned his back to her.

She made an exaggerated display of rolling her eyes at him, sticking out her tongue mockingly. Fox, dressed to kill–and look good while doing it–sat on the table, looking down at Hyena's haul.

"You really should teach me how you manage to do that with those claws." Fox flipped a red poker chip, rolling it over her knuckles.

"It's a gift." Hyena glowed, counting them out one by one. "I'll happily teach you. If you manage to beat me in a game."

"Then by all means," A man's warm voice filled the dark room. "Deal me in. I'm sure I could keep up."

Fox's smile softened. "Hello, David."

Xanatos stepped into the light. He wore an understated gray turtleneck and a charcoal suitcoat with subtle dark patterns. In one hand, he carried an aluminum briefcase.

"About time you showed up." Dingo folded his arms. "I was starting to get a little bit antsy. Are we waiting on any more?"

"Just me tonight, I'm afraid." Xanatos shook his head. He lifted the briefcase onto the card table, setting it down softly. "Our other partners are shy."

Wolf turned up his nose. "The Shredder doesn't waste his time with idle chitchat. He gives his orders, and they're fulfilled. A sword doesn't need to know why it cuts. It simply does."

"Yes, I'm sure you respect your master's leadership style. But as long as this deal is profitable, Wolf, he has generously loaned your services to me. And I've been very pleased with the work you've done on our behalf so far."

"So am I." Fox folded her legs, a mischievous smile curving her lips. "I've never had such partners on a heist. Cyberbiotics had no idea what was coming to them, and had no idea what we had taken. I must say, the Foot Clan has certainly impressed me. I do wonder, Bradford… what is the pay like?"

Wolf smirked, relishing the acknowledgement of his clan's superiority. "It's very generous. The Shredder rewards those who prove themselves worthy. I could put in a good word for you."

"I'd like that." Fox winked. She made a show of walking her fingers casually across the table, stroking the back of David Xanatos' hand. She leaned in close, her lips to his ear. "I hope that doesn't make you jealous."

"Me? Jealous? Of your ambitions? My dear, I'd expect nothing less." Xanatos tilted her chin with his hand, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Now, down to business."

Xanatos sat back in his chair, hands folded in his lap. "First, that blunder at the Blockbuster. I want you to know that it wasn't easy to make that accident go away. A little 'Hollywood magic' cleared it all up, but each failure wears that guise thin. If you continue to draw attention to yourselves, I won't be able to save you. I hired you for your competency, not for the show. Try not to attract an audience when you're on the clock."

Wolf growled. "A mistake none of us are anxious to repeat." He shot a look in Jackal's direction. Jackal only raised one gold-clawed hand and flipped him off.

"What about the girl? The one who got away?" Dingo asked, brows knitting together.

"I have an employee in the NYPD. I've told him to keep an eye out for her name if it shows up again. If she doesn't fall in line, I'll make sure she's removed. Quietly and legally."

Wolf narrowed his eyes. "The girl was well-trained and very competent. My concern is that she may have connections to certain… rivals."

"Your concerns are noted." Xanatos said dismissively. "In the meantime, I'd like to bring your attention to this."

He opened the briefcase. Four of them peered into it quizzically, unsure of what they were staring at. But Wolf took a step back. "You're going to keep that thing sealed and in that case if you know what's good for you."

Xanatos removed the hefty glass capsule from the briefcase. Two sturdy metal caps protected its ends, its inside filled with a thick, glowing green slime. "Gen-U-Tech's containment technology is more sophisticated than TCRI's. Don't worry. The glass is a high density polyacrylate, and can handle the crushing force of an 18-wheeler. The caps are electronically locked, and will only open with a ten-key password. It's safe."

"It's mutagen, Xanatos. In your hands, I can't think of anything more dangerous." Wolf glared.

"Oh, this isn't the most dangerous thing in this warehouse, my friend." Xanatos took four steps back, a gleam in his eye as he lifted his hand to a drop sheet draped over a wooden crate. "This is."

The crate was tall, wide, and deep. Easily large enough to hold a fairly large motorcycle. He arched his eyebrows, gesturing an invitation. "Would one of you more predisposed to brute strength kindly open this jar of pickles for me?"

Dingo and Wolf looked at each other. Wolf bared his teeth at him. Dingo rolled his eyes, putting up his hands. "Fine, fine, I'll do it." Dingo grumbled. He drew a folded titanium boomerang from his leg pocket, deploying it with a flick of his wrist. He buried it in between the planks on one side, prying the face of the box away with the creaking of nails in wood.

The board came down, landing on the concrete with a sharp thwap! Standing upright inside the box was an android that came to Dingo's shoulder. It was swaddled in a loose and thin shozoku, and wore a pair of black rubber tabi. Its face was a red mask, with a long red nose and eyebrows so steep and furious they looked like black thunderbolts. Stamped into its forehead was the symbol of a blood-red foot.

Dingo scoffed. "Dangerous? This looks like a puppet! Where do I shove my hand up his arse, make him tell dirty jokes?"

Xanatos' eyes seemed to brighten. Wolf and Fox looked at each other and took two steps back. "If you're so keen on manhandling him, Dingo, go right ahead." Xanatos gestured to the robot.

Dingo hesitated, sensing some danger in the invitation. He weighed the odds; he knew his value to Xanatos as an employee made him indisposable. But he was still not keen on explaining injuries to their director at the shoot tomorrow.

Xanatos seemed to sense his hesitation. "Don't worry, this is only a demonstration. Go right ahead. If it helps, I double-dog dare you."

Dingo rolled his eyes at the schoolyard challenge. Still, he put up his dukes. Xanatos removed a palm pilot from his pocket, tapping a few keys. The little gremlin-ninja's eyes lit up with a flash of green. With the sound of smooth hydraulic joints and the whir of electronic motors, it settled into a stance. Fist tucked against its hip, knife-hand level with its long nose, it waited with robotic stillness for Dingo to make his first move.

Dingo circled the robot slowly, dark eyes glinting. The robot only turned with even, mechanical steps, facing him. Its red mask bore no expression but ceramic-molded rage. Dingo lunged, a left jab so fast it was like the flicker of a bird's wing. But the short robot was faster, swatting the fist out of the way like a fly. Dingo grunted, baring his teeth, looking very wroth indeed. He stepped back, fists high, guarding his face and middle.

The automaton lunged forward this time, fists blurring in a blistering assault! Dingo blocked as best he could, but he felt his arms scream under the abuse. The automaton leapt, fifteen feet straight up into the air, and Dingo heard a thwip! like the opening of an umbrella, the keening whine of a jet, and a blast of heat straight at his face! Utterly surprised, his guard slipped as he backpedaled away, only to feel the weight of steel and plastic thump into the small of his back with a roundhouse kick, straight through his blind spot!

Dingo stumbled forward, catching himself with an outstretched hand, instinctively rolling aside before a hammer kick cracked the pavement! He stumbled back up into a standing position, but defense was all he could manage as the robot wheeled on him again. This time, he caught a glimpse of it.

Red wings, like a plastic bat, popped out of its shoulders and hugged close to its torso. Those venomous green eyes flickered as Xanatos continued keying away at the palm pilot, barely looking up. There was a fist rocketing towards Dingo's face, and he just barely managed to catch it and turn the strike into a hip throw! But before he could toss it into the floor, the robot's arm came off in his hand!

Dingo yelped in surprise, still holding the disconnected arm. Suddenly, the fingers came to life, the arm snaking forward and curling around his neck in a choke!

The world rocked as the robot fell upon him, knees pinning his shoulders. There was a shing! as a panel in its attached arm folded away. A glittering forearm blade skewered the concrete, just beside his head.

Dingo panted, drenched in cold sweat, eyes wild with fear. The robot's cold green eyes stared down at him, its left arm partially embedded in the stone, its disembodied right still coiled around his neck like a noose.

"R-right. Joke's on me."

"That it is, Dingo." Xanatos beamed. "That it is." He keyed the palm pilot again, and the robot returned to standing at attention. There was a soft whine as the wings collapsed, folding up tightly and vanishing back into the dark folds of its shozoku. It collected its arm from Dingo's neck, reattaching it with a soft click.

Xanatos spoke, pride oozing in his smile. "Ladies and gentlemen–and Hyena," The robot stood stiffly at attention, bowing to Dingo. "I would like to introduce you to Ronin International and Xanatos Enterprises' brainchild; the Foot Tengu."

"Mmm. Sexy." Hyena stroked her chin, a strange look in her eyes. "Do they come in more colors?"

Jackal looked at his sister, aghast. "Hyena, you are disgusting."

She shrugged. "No, meat is disgusting. I like a man who comes with customization."

"They aren't on the market yet." Xanatos typed a command, and the Foot Tengu walked smoothly back into its crate. It turned an about-face, and its eyes dimmed as it powered off. "They still have a few bugs to work out."

"What kind of bugs?" Fox asked.

"The kind that are cured by more of this." Xanatos held up the canister of mutagen. "The Foot Tengu is special. You don't just pop by the 7/11 and fill it up with a gallon of unleaded. It runs on an experimental mutagen battery, the components of which are supplied by our generous third partner. Which is where you all come in. Draxum wants you to take care of a shopping list."

Fox smiled, folding her arms. She stood up from the table, softly walking to stand at Xanatos' side. "Well… I do love shopping."

"Excellent." Xanatos produced a sheet of paper. "Here are your targets. And remember, Draxum is only working for us if we keep up our agreement to deliver test subjects to Sevarius. So be sure to recruit a few while you're at the chemical plant."

"Got anyone in mind?" Dingo asked, nursing his injured shoulder. "Sevarius is a picky bastard. He's sent us back corpses more than once because they were unfit."

Xanatos smiled. "I have one."