Rescue

Wick sat behind the wheel, nervously sweating. He was absolutely terrified of what was going to come next, but he reasoned that being the owner of the property meant he had something to contribute to this rescue operation. However, he was placing his life in the hands of a teenager who had a reputation of being timid and shy. Pulling out a handkerchief, Wick patted his forehead.

"So, Calvin, what is the plan, exactly?" He asked nervously.

Freckle did not reply. Instead, he reached under the seat and pulled out a long, slim box. Despite it being dark, Freckle effortlessly put together the Thompson sub-machine gun. With one more click, the drum magazine was attached. Pulling the bolt back, Freckle was ready for action. Wick noticed a different mood come over the lad. It was like deep-seated anger, like all his frustrations had been compressed into a different being all together. Looking up from the gun, Freckle's eyes were set ablaze. Even if Ethan failed, he would not.

"That should be enough time. Roll down the hill Sable, engine and lights off."

"Are you sure?" Wick asked, but Freckle gave him a look which told him it would be better to do as he was told. Putting the shifter in neutral, the vehicle rolled forward and down the slope. He could brake and steer, but that was about it. The farm truck protested with little squeaks and groans but continued its descent. What lay ahead was sure to be a rats' nest full of rival agents, armed to the teeth.

Trees glided past, eventually opening into a gravel lot. At this point, the truck was moving at a good clip, and it was easy to move silently into the other mining equipment. Finally coming to a stop, Wick slumped back in his seat. "Good heavens, I thought for sure we'd crash! Now, what?"

Freckle got out of the truck, taking care to stay quiet. "I'll be back, be ready to drive." The orange cat slipped between machinery, passing by tractors, shovels, and trucks of all sizes. In the daylight they would look like regular mining equipment, but at night it was like running through a forest made of iron, the stench of coal and diesel cutting through the cool, night time air. Soon enough, Freckle found his way to the edge of the "forest" and took in his surroundings. Every fiber of his being wanted to go insane and start mowing down the agents which took his cousin and love. But the situation called for stealth, and he was focused on the task at hand. For once, his mind felt clear. He had an objective, a purpose, and he wasn't about to let his own mind get in the way.

A door slammed, startling Freckle. Peering from around the corner, he could make out the marigold flower on the bespectacled cat's well-dressed suit. It was Mordecai Heller. The Lackadaisy crew must be inside!

Rocky tried his best to get the door open, but the lock was difficult to pick. While he was rather good at getting open the large iron locks which used to trap him in the circus, they were meant to be opened with a pin and were built with sloppy tolerances. Not this door lock, though. She held tight and wouldn't give Rocky the slightest leverage. Despite his frustration, Rocky didn't dare start beating on the door, lest it attract unwanted attention. After several minutes, Rocky had to take a step back. His head hurt and his hands hadn't completely recovered their functions after getting drunk.

"This confounding imprisonment is starting to get to me! I can't get the lock, Miss M."

Mitzi took a pause from getting the ropes off of Zib. "Rocky, honey. You're doing your best."

"No, Miss M, I'm not! That's the problem! Oh, why did I—"

"No, Rocky, none of this is your fault." Mitzi said, sternly. "I've seen you do this to yourself before, but not today. You all tried to warn me what would happen, especially Ethan. I just couldn't let Atlas go… This is my fault, dear, don't ever blame yourself for this mess."

Standing up, Mitzi grabbed Rocky's hands, holding them both. "I know if anyone can get us out of here in one piece, it's you Rocky Rickaby. If the door won't budge, what can we do?"

Rocky looked around the room. If not the door, then perhaps the vent? "Up there!"

"Up where?" Ivy asked.

"The air shaft, Miss Pepper! Riley, I'm going to need your help."

Rocky scooped up the girl and held her as high as his thin arms would allow. Following Rocky's instructions, the panel quickly came free, and the path of escape became clear. "Great, Riley! Very good, now, just a little boost and…"

Rocky, in one swift motion, threw Riley high and caught her, this time around the waist instead of her armpits. She wasn't exactly light and Rocky wasn't exactly strong, but Riley was able grab onto the vent and climb in. Rocky smiled devilishly. This was their ticket out of here!

"Okay, who's next?"

Just then the door knob started rattling. Everyone froze in fear. Rocky, without hesitation, grabbed Ivy and gave her a boost with his hands and shoulder. Next was Zib and Mitzi. In a few seconds, everyone but Rocky was in the vent. "Good, now crawl to freedom!"

Mitzi turned around to help Rocky up, but instead the cat grabbed the vent panel and began to put it back. "Rocky, what are you doing?! Come with us."

"No dice, Miss M. I'll distract whoever that is when they finally get through the door, now go!"

"But Rocky—"

"No, this needs to be done."

With no time to argue, Zib grabbed Mitzi and dragged her along. "Come on, we'll help the kid out as soon as we get the kids out of here."

Alone in the room, Rocky prepared for what was to come. At last, a heavy hit broke the handle, and the door could be opened. He crouched low, ready to pounce. A distraction like this would buy the others all the time they needed. His mind flashed back to the day Mitzi had rescued him. He was living on the streets with only a violin to his name. Few people even bothered to throw spare change at him. He had been hungry and cold, quietly waiting the day he would finally be too weak to survive. Then one day she appeared before him, shining like an angel made of gold. Mitzi May gave him a chance, and that was more than anyone else had done for him.

He was determined now to repay that favor, to make sure that those he loved would live to see another day. The door was kicked open, and in a flash, Rocky was on top of the attacker. Both tumbled to the ground, and Rocky cocked his arm back to deliver what was sure to be a worthless punch, but the face he saw was no Marigold or federal agent. Eyes of fire, fur of orange, and a confused look for a face.

"Freckle?!"

Zib kicked the outside panel off the wall, and in a moment all four were on the ground. Mitzi, getting her bearings, noticed a familiar truck parked next to all the mining equipment. "Is that the farm truck?" She asked Zib.

"I'll be damned, it's our ticket out of here, come on!" Zib grabbed Mitzi by the hand and led her into the mining equipment.

Wick kept watch all around him, yet an overjoyed face suddenly plastered the window on the passenger side. It was Ivy, peering inside the cab. "Mr. Sable?" She asked.

"Miss Pepper! Are you alright?" Wick said as he stepped out of the cab, embracing the poor girl. He looked down and saw that Riley was with her. "Oh, girls. Am I so glad to see you both. Are the others with you?"

As he asked the question, Zib and Mizti made their way around one of the large truck tires. Locking eyes with Mitzi, Wick instantly wrapped the woman in a warm hug. "Miss M, you're alive."

"Yes, thanks to Rocky. We need to go back and help him out before they kill him. He stayed behind to buy us time." Mitzi said, but Wick hesitated.

"Miss M, though I'd be happy to help the boy, I've got no firepower with me besides this…" He then pulled out a small revolver tucked neatly in his vest pocket. "Calvin has the Thompson."

"Freckle's here?" Ivy asked. "But I thought he was stuck at home?"

"Well, Ethan managed to persuade him to assist us."

"Ethan's here too!?" Riley exclaimed. "I want to see him."

Wick struggled to find the words. "Riley, your brother. Well, he…"

"He didn't die, right?" Riley asked, concerned.

"No, he was alive the last time I saw him. But he was going to provide us with a distraction. He's probably the reason why security is so light on this side of the facility."

Just then a shot rang out across the yard. "Was that Freckle?" Ivy asked.

"No, if it were Freckle there would be more shots by now." Mitzi reasoned. "Perhaps Ethan?"

"That sounded more like a pistol." Wick guessed.

An exterior door popped open, and behind it two figures emerged. It was Rocky and Freckle!

"Oh thank God, it's the boys!" Mitzi was relieved to see them alive and well.

"Good, let's load up and find our way out!" Zib said as he hurried Ivy and Riley to the back of the truck, pulling himself in after loading the two girls. Riley protested though. "No! We need to find Ethan!"

"We will, sweetie, but right now we're sitting ducks. Wick, get that engine going!" Zib ordered.

Just as Wick climbed in, he could see two more figures approach. Agents. He leaned out the window. "Rocky, Calvin! Behind you!"

Turning around, Rocky was face to face with two stern-looking men. "Ah hell…"

For a moment, the two pairs looked at each other, no one knowing what to do. Freckle's face grew stern and, in an instant, the Thomspon let out a burst, dropping one of the men as the other pulled his revolver and started shooting. Rocky grabbed Freckle and ducked back inside the door, narrowly missing two pistol shots. Freckle had finally lost it, and he began to cackle with manic glee.

You Can't Kill a Ghost

Two German soldiers cautiously made their way through hell on Earth. Their old positions had been bombed into rubble, but the ambitious Americans had overreached. For three days and nights they had the small force cornered. Yet when an animal is backed into such a corner, it fights back, hard. While they had been wearing down the enemy, the pockets of resistance managed to hold on.

The pair stuck closely together as they worked up to the American line. Every night, there was at least one enemy soldier that had found a way to infiltrate their positions. For two mornings now they'd wake up with the rest of their unit to find sentries with their throats slit. A quartermaster had been killed and precious supplies had been scavenged. On the second day a sniper had gone missing in the night as well, only to be found brutally stabbed, a look of horror permanently on the young cat's face. It was if a demon had made this battle its playground.

Checking bodies as they went, the two soldiers skipped over one that looked fresh. The elder of the two cats soon got the feeling that they were not alone in this wasteland. Turning around, he noticed that one of the bodies was no longer there. Giving hand signals to his partner, the two stood back-to-back, the distant sound of battle being the only noise to pierce through the air. Morning fog rolled in, enveloping them in moments. Occasionally, one would hear a couple of footsteps out in the fog. They didn't dare waste ammo, revealing themselves to the Americans who were surely only a couple hundred yards away. Yet something was indeed out there, someone was sizing them up.

The elder soldier suddenly felt like he was a teenager once again, back in the forests of Bavaria. He had been hunting one of the last of its kind in the area, a wolf. It had killed sheep and the local farmers turned to the young cat who had a knack for stalking predators. Yet in that forest he had become the hunted. A creature of the woods, a symbol of the wilderness, had filled him with so much fear that he did not dare return after making it out alive. Now here he was, many miles from home, being hunted by what should a green American soldier. And easy kill.

My eyes opened. The pain was still present, but the bullet didn't penetrate. Both of my hands were in use as one Marigold on each arm pulled me forward. I did my best to remain limp and lifeless. After a few minutes, the two stopped at a hastily dug grave, dropping me on my face. Even with the impact, I didn't dare make a sound.

"Edsel, grab the shovel and start digging." One said to the other.

"Why me?"

"Because my back is strained enough from hauling this guy into the woods. Now get to it."

"Why don't we just wait for that Heller guy to come around?"

Gunshots in the distance alerted all three of us, though I refused to move a muscle. One mistake and it will be over for me.

"Who the hell is shooting?" Edsel asked.

"Don't know. Moreau is probably having the others killed." The agent then looked down at the hole before looking over at the one next to it.

"You know what, I think you're right. Let Heller dig his own grave, we'll roll this one into the next hole over. Help me move him over."

Now was the chance. The bayonet was still stashed away safely. The two knelt to grab me, and I waited until just the right moment…

Heller couldn't take much more of this mocking. Calling him weak and pathetic. Why? Because he wasn't going to waste his time killing people that were no threat whatsoever? He was a killer, all these two idiots had to do was give him a gun and he'd prove it right then and there. But the business was changing. Asa would not kill Mitzi or Ivy and would probably refrain from killing the other two. Atlas would have done no such thing to another gang. Thieves and people threatening suppliers? Sure, wipe them out. But children? Widows? That wasn't what Mordecai was paid to do.

As they approached the open graves, a bloody mess awaited Mordecai and his captors.

"Hey, who told ya to keep walkin—" The associate on his right was about to prod him forward, but then he too noticed the bodies.

"My god…"

The other agent started to freak out. "Jesus Christ, I knew he was a ghost! We need to—"

"We need to hold our ground and keep his friend here close. He won't risk losing a partner in crime." The first agent grabbed Mordecai by the collar and held a gun to his head.

Heller rolled his eyes. "This is the plan of action you two could come up with? I weep for Asa in my absence."

"Shut up, you. All you had to do was kill the bastard and we wouldn't be in this mess."

"As long as a gun is to my head, I may as well tell you that I had other priorities since joining Marigold and Ethan Kelly was more useful to me alive."

"I don't care, and I don't want to hear it. I want to know where this guy is, and your yapping isn't helping at all."

Just then a lone figure appeared from the shadows wielding a long, bloody knife. Both agents turned their guns on the 'ghost' which gave Mordecai the chance to catch his captors off guard. His knife was out before anyone could blink and it quickly found its way into the cat's belly. At the same time, Ethan lunged at the other agent, quickly dispatching him. Now outnumbered and injured, the last Marigold made his stand. Ethan walked toward him like a predator about to finish off its prey. Five shots rang out, and Ethan stumbled back.

I was in pain, but the armor held firm. I rose to my feet as the guy who just shot me kept trying to fire off one last round, but his revolver was out of ammunition. I brought my bayonet down on him in one motion, sending it clean through his chest, ending the cat's life in mere seconds. Satisfied, I stood up and wiped the blood from my face. Mordecai was standing there, dusting himself off.

"Well, I must say that tactic was unorthodox, but I could hardly argue with the result—" I punched him square in the face, sending him to the ground. He looked up at me yet didn't seem to exhibit much emotion. "I suppose this is where you kill me."

As I reached into my pocket, Mordecai closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He expected the worst. Instead, a small object bounced off his chest and landed in his lap. Looking down, he noticed that it was the small album he had lost down in the bottomlands. His mother and sisters were in it, even a picture of his father in the back. He looked up at the cat who had him at his mercy. "You saved this?"

I took off my makeshift armor. A combination of steel, paper, and cloth. It was heavy and weighed me down, but it had just taken six shots and had served its purpose. It fell to my feet with a heavy thud. "That punch was for letting that bastard capture my friends and family."

"That was hardly my intention. Moreau had given his word that no one else would be harmed."

"Well… anyway. Let's just call it even, shall we? I've got bigger things to deal with right now. You hear those shots?"

"Yes, I think you may be too late."

"No, I had others who came in the back way. That's probably Freckle. Now, if you have any care at all for the people trapped in that building, I suggest you help me set things right."

"This whole evening hasn't been going to plan, why would I march back in there?"

"Because if you help me rescue the others, there's going to be a car in there you can use to get out. Moreau is mine, but if our correspondence has been truthful, then you need Drago."

"Yes, I need to get information out of him. But he'll be on a train out of St. Louis in a few hours."

"Then we don't have time to sit here and argue, do we? My little sister is in there and I'm going to fight my way to her. And you've got a train to catch."

"That still doesn't fix our most pressing issue, our lack of firepower."

I held out a hand. Mordecai looked at it momentarily, then hesitantly took it in his grasp. I pulled him up in one motion before patting him on the shoulder. Though annoyed, he tolerated it for the moment. "I've got that covered, follow me."

Serafine and Nico rounded the corner, bringing their guns to bear. But Freckle and Rocky had ducked back into the large shop building. However, with one set of targets gone, another set appeared. They spied a familiar truck amidst all the other large vehicles.

"Look o're there, its de others." Nico said as he aimed his revolver right at Wick in the driver's seat. Panicking, Wick struggled to get the truck started. Ivy, in the back, rolled her eyes. She leaned in through the back window and started it for the man, twisting the key to just the right direction. "Viktor said the key needs to be just like that, or it won't start." Sure enough, the truck roared to life. However, Serafine was now getting ready to empty a whole magazine into the truck.

A single shot rang out, clipping Sera in her right shoulder. She fell down from the impact and instantly all firing ceased. Nico had a look of horror on his face as he saw his sister crumple up, injured. "Who the hell shot that?"

Moreau, who by now had hobbled his way around the corner, saw the flash from the corner of his eye. He knew instantly who it must be, yet he could hardly believe it. "It can't be, I shot him right in the heart!" He muttered to himself.

Riley leaned out of the truck and saw her brother standing there, rifle in hand. She could hardly recognize the cat. Normally reserved and kind, he now had a look about him that she had never witnessed in anyone else before. He was like a sow bear coming to protect her cubs.

Even at a distance, Sera could make out the markings on the cat who stepped out from the tree line. It was the mark of Ogun, the spirit of iron. He was also an ancient god of war. It seemed this spirit had not abandoned Ethan Kelly after all. Now he stood before them all, rifle in hand. For a moment, no one dared to move. Everyone there saw him die only minutes before, yet here he was, the Ghost of Charlevaux had come! And death was sure to follow.

Yet the moment didn't last. After the initial shock of seeing a dead man alive and well, the Marigold agents worked up the stones to try and kill their ghost. Two near the building drew a bead on Wick and attempted to kill everyone in the truck, but two more shots rang out from behind some of the equipment, dropping them both. Mitzi looked over her shoulder as Wick got the truck up to speed. They only saw each other for a fraction of a second, but it was Mordecai who had stopped the agents. At last, he had done something to help what remained of Atlas' empire.

Nico grabbed Sera and her gun and went into the building. He reasoned that they, plus a couple of the Marigolds who went in before, would have an easier time dealing with the two cousins. Moreau took cover as did I. It was just like a battle in the trenches now. Sticking my head out would mean instant death. Instead, I used my other senses to figure out when someone was reloading. I swung my rifle out from behind cover and lined up a shot, killing an agent who was trying to flank me. I heard a Colt go off as Mordecai tried to clear a path to the door. Taking a risk, I jumped from a pallet of steel implements to a concrete barrier. Now I was within shouting distance of my main target.

"Moreau!"

The detective heard Ethan calling for him. Though scared, he was confident that the agents he had brought with would be more than enough to overwhelm him eventually. Yet Ethan made a declaration that drained all of the detective's confidence.

"You're a dead man, Moreau! I'm coming for you!"

Mordecai managed to get inside the building. It was dark and he was down to three shots in the revolver. His colt was with one of the Savoys and he was determined to get it back. Laughter and shots echoed through the large shed. Making his way from the offices, Mordecai found himself in a jungle of iron and steel. Broken down equipment sat like aging hulks, gathering dust while newer machinery took their place.

Rocky dragged Freckle behind him, pointing the boy at whoever was chasing them. Freckle still did as he was told, giving short bursts from the Thomspon, but sooner or later they were going to run out of ammunition. He looked around for something, anything that could help them out. Empty bottles, diesel, oil, rags… Everything he needed was right under foot! "Freckle, keep them busy, I've got an idea!"

Fire

Moreau was running low on ammunition, and one by one the agents were being dropped right where they stood. I could taste victory, yet a few agents still remained. Loading another clip, I mapped out a route that would let me flank them all. Counting until three, I bolted from cover. All sights were fixed on me instantly, yet no one could accurately guide a bullet to me. I did get winged in the back, but that was as close as anyone came. Diving for cover, I made the dash into the line of equipment.

All went silent as Moreau looked around. He directed his men to surround and eliminate the threat. As they did so, one got just a little too close. Bolting from cover, Moreau could make out Ethan's silhouette as he ran his victim through. Another approached and tried to corner him, but the cat's head was blown apart by a 30-caliber bullet. Two more shots rang out from cover, two more agents dead.

The fighting continued for roughly a minute, but soon an eerie silence overtook the equipment yard. Moreau realized that he was alone. Getting up, he looked around to see if he could locate Ethan. The boy he had once left to mourn his murdered uncle was every bit the legend made him out to be.

The flash of the rifle gave away Ethan's position, but it didn't matter. Moreau felt a bullet shatter his shoulder, sending him to the ground.

I got up, gun smoke rolling out of the barrel. I had done it; I had given Moreau a fatal blow. This time, I was going to make sure he didn't get up. Racking in another round, I approached the building. Yet the sound of gunfire and shouting from inside the structure beckoned me. I could hear them both. Freckle's manic laughter and Rocky's excited voice. They were outgunned and outnumbered. I froze, wanting to finish off Moreau. But I was running low on ammunition by now, and I couldn't abandon the boys. Revenge would be worthless if I didn't protect the people I cared about. Gritting my teeth, I changed course and entered into the dark building.

Mordecai moved as stealthily as possible through the machinery. He needed to get the drop on the Savoys. As he rounded a corner, someone hit him hard in the back, sending him to the ground. Standing over him was Nico. Sera walked out from cover, the BAR hanging from its strap. She produced Mordecai's Colt 1911. "Ironic, isn't it cher?" She said, smiling. "You refused Maitre Carrefour, now you gonna pay de price." Mordecai scowled.

Serafine leveled the pistol at her former associate and began to squeeze the trigger. Mordecai closed his eyes again, expecting to die for the second time that night. A shot rang out through the building. Mordecai felt no pain. In fact, he didn't even feel dead. Opening his eyes, he looked up as Serafine stumbled, falling to the ground. She was hurt badly. Nico turned his attention to the shooter.

I smiled at Nico as I ran the bolt. "I'm ready for a rematch."

Nico smiled, taking the bait. He lunged at me, but I sent a bullet clean through his side, dropping him to the ground as well. Rolling Nico onto his back, I pointed the bayonet right in his face. He growled at me.

"You should be dead. I saw you die!"

"You were deceived. Now you listen good you cur! Your sister is dying, and you'll bleed out before sunrise. Take her and go. Leave town and never return, understand?"

Nico tried to get up, but the tip of my bayonet grazed his neck. He finally got his priorities straight. I backed off and allowed Nico to get up. He limped over to Sera and picked her up with all his strength, leaving both the BAR and the Colt behind as he found his way. I didn't give him an opening to turn and charge. But like a beat dog, Nico left with his tail between his legs. Once out of view, I lowered my gun and caught my breath.

Mordecai picked himself up off the ground. "This is the second time you've saved my life tonight. I suppose I owe you my thanks."

"You can thank me by taking care of Drago. Now go."

Mordecai understood, and he holstered his pistol before walking into the shadows, becoming one with his element. I opened the bolt of my Springfield, and the clip sprang out with the casing. I was out of ammunition now.

Freckle squeezed off the last of his ammunition before being cornered. Ahead was one of the agents, who drew a bead on him. He growled in frustration. From behind a large truck, another figure emerged. The cat's features were highlighted in the dim light. It was Ethan!

I had only a bluff and a bayonet, but I had to use both. "Drop it or I drop you like all your friends outside."

The agent turned to look at me, but a quick glance to the side and the cocking of a pistol turned my attention to the other agent. He had managed to outflank me and now I was caught in a Mexican standoff without a bullet to my name. "Well, what are you waiting for?" I asked. Before he could pull the trigger, laughter filled the room. I looked at Freckle, but he was standing there just like me. That could only mean…

"Rocky appeared from the top of a large mining truck. He threw a lit bottle onto the ground, and in an instant the floor was aflame. We all jumped back as the liquid fire spread. I seized the opportunity to bring my blade to bear. Jumping across the blaze, I ran the first agent through before ducking for cover as the second fired two shots at me. Ducking under the equipment, I found the cat's blind spot. The bayonet stabbed his side and with a swift kick I sent him into the fire just as Rocky threw down another Molotov.

Grabbing Freckle and Rocky, we made our way outside the building. Just as the place went up in flames. Looking back, I could see the whole structure catching on fire.

"Ethan!" Rocky exclaimed. "You came for us."

"As did Freckle and Wick." I explained.

"I have a lot of questions…" Freckle commented, but before he could continue, I hugged them both. "And I can't tell you how happy I am to see you both safe and sound."

We found one of the cars in the yard with a key still in the ignition. Rocky hopped in the driver's seat and got it going while Freckle got in the passenger seat. I was about to get in as well, when I noticed a blood trail. "Hold on boys." I said as I walked over.

The blood was Moreau's. Somehow, he had survived. The bastard was still out there. The anger surged back once again. He needed to die. Walking back to the sedan, I pulled out my rifle. Digging around, I also found a loaded pistol. I wasn't going to let him escape a third time.

"Ethan, where are you going?" Freckle asked as I walked off.

"Get to Wick's estate. Moreau is still alive; I need to end him."