It's War!

by HandBill93

Conker is into some deep ****. He has outdone himself to screw himself over for the things that bad karma has given him, but luckily he was offered a second chance to clear his name, and all he had to do is accept the terms and follow them like a good little squirrel. Ha! Piece of cake. This will be easy as right as rain, right? ...Right?

2. The Day After Tomorrow

Well, here we are again! Another Chapter. Wow, that fast, huh? Apologies, things have been a rough days as I failed to obtain the rights of Conker's Bad Fur day. Every man that I have assign all but died or ran away like pussies, if you know what I mean. So, I'm practically licking my wounds with fresh bandages, and just basking with humiliation... Oh well, I'll write what I get and just say: fuck it all & whatnot. Anyway, let's begin! On with the story.

Disclaimer: I don't own the right of Conker's Bad Fur Day from Rare and Microsoft, nor any real world songs. But maybe someday, that will happen. And I will try and save the franchise from those greedy posh bastards.

Warning: Sexual Themes, Dark Scenes & Drama... lot's of Drama.

Chapter 2: The Day After Tommorow

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(Seven Months Later – The Cock & Plucker Bar)

Well… it has been seven months.

During that time when you realize how far have you've gotten yourself into only to end your thrust on another crazy day as you go by. That is to say, for these past months it has been hell… for a very long, long, long time. So, for the past days it has been nothing but training: running, hiking, swimming, weapon management, target practice, etc.

For seven, freaking, grueling months were nothing but hell.

It had been so bad, that you felt your entire body shutting down by the excessive training they have been giving for every recruit that volunteered for this upcoming war. Everyone felt the pain, the excruciating pain from Satan himself, and everyone wanted to beg Aunt Giddy for a sliver of a miracle for the training to stop.

And that's where our friend, Conker, comes in to play in all of this. He had been the center of attention for being the world-class clown that got everyone into trouble. For instance, he accidentally set off a grenade that almost killed everyone, but receiving a loudmouth scolded from Captain Odin for being a colossal 'Charlie'. So every time he gets into trouble? He was escorted to be locked up in a box, with extreme heat humidity that was giving off from the sun reflecting in the sky, and he's been one of those for every day, week, and months.

But thank the good fortunes that's been smiling upon our red squirrel, because he and they finally graduated from boot camp. From new honorary maggot recruits to mean tough bull soldiers, and being promoted as you graduate. Not only that, but Conker now has gained chiseled abs from the God, Adonis, himself. Now he's really set to get some hot, miraculous big breasted babes if he ever encounters one.

…Although, there is still the sunflower lady with the big breas-.

"For he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fello~~~~~w!"

Oh… did I forget to mention that today is Conker's birthday?

So the short answer is: yes.

"And so we can deny!" Everyone sang and cheered with glasses in their hands, as they all drank for the birthday boy, "Happy Birthday Conker!"

Conker had never been so blessed to have friends that he grew up to care during his time on Camp Buckwheat, and he couldn't help but thank them for how wonderful they threw this party for him. In the first months, Conker was looked upon as a stranger to their eyes. But as time went on? They looked at him with contempt at first, then they started all opening up to him, and asking some pleasant conversation that seemed to lighten up the mood, which was fantastic.

Suddenly, the owner of the bar presented our red squirrel with a big surprise birthday cake: chocolate cake. His favorite! Conker was told to blow all the candles and make a wish, which he'll never tell. As everyone began to have a share of a slice, Conker decided to roam around and just mingle around to drink with a beer in hand. The crowd seemed to be in good spirits, every squirrel present all seemed to be having fun while forgetting the war with tomorrow and focus on life to enjoy what is left.

It's the small little things that matter, to be honest. But even when they are about to fight tomorrow, Conker won't lie and say that he's scared of what's to come, and he also felt his nerves go on overdrive in which his hands started to shake uncontrollably. He was prescribed

benzodiazepine to alleviate his state of anxiety, but only for a time.

As the weasel band kept playing jazz music, the entire room was entirely drowned in a sea of conversations that is has mostly gotten loud. Conker felt overwhelmed by the excessive noise that he felt like he wants to leave and find a quiet place to relax, so he could escape all the bickering and laughter.

So it's decided. He'd finished the last remaining of his beer and threw it at the nearest trash. As he finished disposing the bottle, Conker headed straight toward the outside to head on-.

"Conker! Hey! Over here!"

Conker heard someone called him out as he looked in the direction to see his squad mates trying to get their attention at him. Rodent, specifically, was simply the one who called him and waved at the table.

"Hey, come on and join us!" Rodent called out, "Let's talk for a moment!"

He felt tired, and he really wanted to sleep. But he had to remember that he was celebrating his birthday and didn't want to be a party pooper when they just got all this set up for him. And at the end, he reluctantly agreed too, as he approached to have a seat with them.

"So, nice of you to join us in this hullabaloo of yours." Sam was the first to speak, beer in hand, "Anyway, happy birthday, you damn red devil."

Conker blushed for being praised, "Ah, shucks, you guys. You don't really need to do this all for me."

"Well, happy birthday." Replied Scratch, "And congratulations on graduating, you really are one of us right now. Debt or not, it still doesn't change anything since you're proving trustworthy, and you're alright."

A little that it is has been forgotten to mention, is that Conker's secret was already out, but only to his squad of misfits alone. So to say their impressions were more like getting a huge giant blue screen of death from their sets of eyes as Conker told his tale of misadventures since he's been doing plenty of favors from everyone along the way. And mentioned that he was also being hunted by the Panther King without his knowledge, until they told them that the King's intentions were to use him as a support beam for his table.

I mean, how crazy is that, even for Conker!

"One of us! One of us!" Igor chanted until the others did so as well.

Conker waved his hands for them to settle down, "Appreciate; thank you. You know, I never asked that how you guys learn my birthday."

"It was this little guy right here." Sam pointed at Rodent before waving his friendly hand, "He told us so."

"Oh! Well, that's no surprise." Conker remarked.

"Anyway, speaking of discovering someone's birthday." Sam then put on a mask with absolute seriousness as he stared at Conker, which made the red squirrel flinch nervously, "I need you to answer honestly; choose your words wisely."

Conker gulped, "Uh, what would it be…?"

Sam breathed in to his before exhaling, until sporting a massive blush on his face, "Is-… Is it true that this giant Uga-bugga women had the biggest pair of rocking tits across all the Panther Kingdom?"

Everyone on the table, including the entire crowd in the Bar, spitted their drinks and coughed at the same time. Conker felt his eye twitching in annoyance, as Scratch had his mouth hit at the table as he froze like a stone from the comment made by his best partner/friend; both Rodent and Igor were sporting, huge tremendous red blushes that almost made them compare to a red tomato.

"Are-Are you serious!" Conker shouted, "Why would I answer you that!?"

Sam didn't relent, "Conker, you are my friend, work with me here. I need to know the details, chop-chop, pronto!"

"Oh, jeez, no wonder Cappy had it out for you." Conker shook his head in disappointment, he thought that his comrade in arms would just give some sort of random thing that he had no freaking idea of what it might be for him, only for Sam to answer one of the most dumbest-. Wait, not the dumbest, but a reasonable question that Conker might give him something to dream about, "Urgh. Fine. Yes! She is gifted."

"How gifted?" Sam kept his composure, while his hands rested on his chin, "What are we talking here?"

Conker groaned, "Can't we talk about something else?"

"We're talking; this is a normal conversation." Sam replied, "So pretty much, this is a normal conversation."

"What have we come to this?" Scratch spoke.

Igor covered his ears like a child, "Happy thoughts, happy thoughts!"

Scratch looked at his Sergeant in flabbergast, "WHAT ARE YOU, FIVE!? YOU'RE A GROWN ASS SQUIRREL! WHAT HOLE DID YOU CRAWLED OUT OF!"

"I don't think we should talk about this." Rodent fumbled in his seat as he's still sporting his blush.

Sam slammed his hands on the table, "The hell it isn't! We're talking what we, as men should say on this here table, can't brush off something so important that we can't ignore: Jugga's massive titanic BREASTS!"

'Maybe I should've gone home.' Conker thought inwardly as he thought as this conversation couldn't be more embarrassing. He knew that Sam was a ladies man, and a huge pervert with a romanticized heart that's for sure.

"And let's not forget our resident farm buddies, the Sunflower lady." Sam proudly replied.

"Uh, you know what? Maybe I'm tired, so I guess I should take my leave and-." Conker stop mid-sentence when Sam swiftly grabbed his arm and forced him to sit down on the table. He sighed in defeat, thinking that he ain't getting away with it. So like a good friend, he pulled out his guns, "She's a stellar, a real sweetheart to steal anyone's heart that pulls their strings. Her breasts are a gift to Mother Nature's blessing that you would just bounce on them until you forget the world around you."

And that was the truth, Conker had proof of it. He encountered her when he tried to help a washed out monarch King Bee who was down on his luck, which he couldn't give a flying peacock. But he can't deny that he enjoyed the sight of those magnificent-. *cough*cough* Anyway, apart from that, Conker couldn't help be haunted by the sight with the King Bee and the Sunflower Lady, at the way they 'pollinate' was something that he didn't wish to see, and something that was better off not worth mentioning, like, at all.

Conker was rewarded with a 'bounce', so that's something… and sex, obviously. He had the time of his life, and all he had to do was tickle her to gain it. But, that's one can of worms that he'll keep for the rest of his life; however, he was disappointed that she wouldn't accept her request to be with him, and spend time with each other (because she's a plant rooted to the ground, duh).

But anyway, the sex was good, and Conker gave the King Bee the middle finger, because he had a big long-.

"Conker!"

Conker snapped out of it, "Who? Whaa?"

"I said: Is she that good?" Sam curiously asked in suspense, wanting to know if she's good enough.

He shrugged, "Meh, she's alright. Not saying the best, but decent."

"Why do I get the feeling that you are lying?" Sam gave the red squirrel a skeptical eye look.

Well, he's persistent! Conker would give him that, "Look, I ain't lying I was-."

"What is going on here?"

Conker heard someone and speak, everyone turned to look that their team leader and captain standing in the center. Everyone stood up and saluted to him before he told them ease. He was glad that he showed up, because he can't take more of Sam's sex-capade.

"Oh, thank, Aunt Giddy." Conker muttered as he felt a wave of relief from his shoulders, "Hey, Cappy, nice of you to drop by!"

Captain Odin gave the red squirrel the 'stare' for giving such nickname, "That's 'Captain' to you too… Corporal. I could've sworn I heard Sam talk about his frivolous sex fantasies."

"Who, me? Nah, I would never." Sam innocently said to his commanding officer.

"Yes. Yes, you do." Scratch ratted him out.

Odin nodded his head in dissatisfaction, until seeing his team pulling cheeks at one another before Sam had given Scratch the noogie. That had brought a smile upon his face, knowing that he had the strangest set of grunts that he will be leading to combat for tomorrow midnight.

"So, what brought you here, sir?" Rodent asked; glad that the conversation was over. He had to take a cold shower once the party is over.

The Captain gave an easygoing smirk, "Well, I came to grab a couple of beers, have a chat, and give Conker a wish to a happy Birthday."

Conker felt humbled, he had never gotten a compliment from his team leader since basic training, as he has been riding on everyone's tails through the ringer, no homo. But still, it was a nice change of surprise coming from him, "Oh, wow! Thanks. I never thought I would hear you say that… Uh, sir."

"It's the least I could do, since you are behaving properly." Odin spoke in genuine manner, "Anyway, happy birthday!"

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Every soldier in the bar shouted in unison, as they cheered for Conker.

"Aw, thanks, guys. Again." Conker thanked them once more as he felt appreciated from the rest of the unit. Then, Captain Odin took a seat at the table and ordered a drink from the waitress as he took a swig from the glass.

"I know that you all are having a good time." Odin continued, "But I just wanted you all to know that by tomorrow at 2100 hours will be disembarking and be shipped off to France. All of us will be traveling by sea on battleships, and by midnight the invasion starts. So by 0600 hours will be riding the waves in the Higgins, and be landing on the beaches for the second assault: Operation Sparta."

Scratch groaned, "Do we have to go over the plan? Colonel Mustard already told us what we needed to do, and General Leslie was there at the presentation as well. Why bother bringing it up?"

"Because, Private, I need all of you to stay focused and don't get shot and killed while we're out there confronting the enemy." Odin explained, "We're making history here, boys. The second assault is essential, and it must be succeeded in order to secure that beach. And like I said: I know you are all having a good time, but I need everyone focused for tomorrow, am I clear."

"Sir, yes sir!" Everyone responded back.

Odin nodded, "Now, If anyone has any relatives, friends and loved ones? It might be a good time to do it now." He stood up from his seat, "This is real here, gentleman; make it count while saying your goodbyes."

Conker looked to Odin as he left the bar. He didn't even bother to drink his beer! Man, what a waste of a good drink. But he's right, tomorrow will be the day that he might never come back, and never see anyone ever again. Conker wished Berri were here to give him a goodbye kiss and wished him… but only to realize that she's not here anymore. Oh, Aunt Giddy, he really missed her.

He then stood before turning to his friends, "Hey, guys? I'm gonna make a phone call, you don't mind if I sit this one out?"

"Sure, Conker, whatever makes you feel comfortable." Rodent gave him sad smile as he understood that tomorrow may not get a better chance at surviving… if they do survive that is.

And with that Conker stood up and looked for the bar's phone booth. He had no idea in whom to call too, but he knew someone that he might consider a 'friend' of sorts as he helped to get him back on his feet when was wasted at the bar just a couple of years back.

"…"

Well, that's it then. He knew whom to call.

~OOO~

(Meanwhile: At the Heart of Paris, France)

The night sky's of Paris were marvelous; even when going out on a date to talk and gossip, or even go down a stroll and not say a word for just to enjoy the view of the Eiffel Tower right in front of you. Now that would've been a great place to start a vacation for someone to have a romantic getaway. Yes, a romantic getaway indeed…

…If only it were romantic, then maybe it wouldn't have been caught themselves in a middle of the war.

At the bench, sitting down, wearing a red hood concealing to conceal its identity. The individual just sat there and just stared at the great symbol of France, just staring at it while watching the events unfold when a bunch of Tediz soldiers in blue uniform are having a military march on the streets. And it's one thing that brings ire and hatred from watching those stuffed teddy bears parading like they own the place.

Six years ago, the Tediz Empire invaded every country around Europe, and only succeeded capturing everything that came in their way. They grew too powerful, and they were spreading like cancer while choking the life out of anyone who dares cross pass with them. Every military couldn't stand a chance to stop them, only to be wiped off the floor like it was nothing. Except now, the C.R.A. are holding against the frontline in the south, where the real action and horrors are happening right there.

And they were not doing good.

So, they did everything they could to push them back, and accomplished in capturing key element points from every village and cities in the South. But even then, the Tediz are always one step ahead on the plain field. So many steps of the Royal Alliance had managed to pushed back… only for the enemy to sink their teeth as they push back even further by the day, and somehow getting worse if this keeps up.

They did manage to advance, and somehow reach the border. But apparently, it won't be long until something happens. It will be a surprise when the Tediz have something in store waiting for them to use, something that might give them the edge. And this kind of purpose is what they were trained for: sabotage, infiltration, assassination,spying behind enemy lines, the usual.

The individual sighed, not knowing what to make of this.

"Excusez-moi, mademoiselle. Ce côté du banc est-il occupé?"

The red hooded agent looked up to see a cheesy grin coming off from the squirrel wearing a bomber jacket and a shelby cap. Before giving him the stink eye for acting like some jackass that screams with the word 'Casanova' written all over his face.

Psh! Asshole.

"Your late…" Said the red woman while going back to looking at the Eiffel Tower with the military marching, "You were supposed to be here less than an hour ago, and it's been three hours. I waited here in this bench just for you to show up, but you didn't, which you left me to suspect and believe that you got caught; probably being shot by a Tediz squadron that would put you up against the wall. Or, knowing you? You were simply enjoying your time at the 'sights' of this city, while you bull•••• your way like a jackass, and being a self-centered douche canoe, Agent Blitzkrieg."

"Jeez, go easy on me, Sabine." Replied the stranger, "It's been ten days when everything went to ••••; a little tour of the place and some scouting – among other things – would let me experience my way around, right, Agent One?"

It had been ten days since this operation had started, just two fucking days. Only for it to blow up in your face when some flak gun fired at them and left them stranded with no back up whatsoever.

"Yes." She said, "What a great way to start the mission, when in actuality, it did go to shit. So thank you for reminding me, Ben."

Ben shook his head from hearing her reply in sarcasm, "The Resistance's were lucky enough to be able to find us when the plan failed. So at least be glad were still in one piece and not being taken prisoners, Sabine."

"Just call me, Soap." Agent One grumbled, "I don't like anyone calling me by my real name."

"I could say the same to you, sweetheart." He chuckled, noting her partner who rolled her eyes.

"We've already had this discussion; it shouldn't have happened like this." Sabine's eyes looked straight ahead without acknowledging his partner, "One moment we were at the sky in a disguised plane heading towards France unsuspected, then suddenly your co-pilot was a spy planing to sabotage us, and killing the rest of the commando units we brought along. Not only that, the Tediz started shooting at us with their AA guns, almost dying in the process… There's a mole, I know it."

"Not the first thing that came to mind." Ben scoffed before his mood turned sour, "I'm getting the feeling that someone tipped us off; called me paranoid if I didn't say that one of our contacts could've been responsible for it."

"Perhaps you're onto something." She contemplated, "If our contacts were the ones who set us up? Then we certainly got a huge mystery on our hands."

Ben groaned, "Ugh. You sound like one of those cheesy cartoon characters that you watched during your downtime. Do you have to make a pun of it?"

"What's wrong for me to make a reference to my favorite show! I think it fits for us two tourists like us, don't you think?" She chuckled at the skit she made, making her partner roll his eyes. Suddenly, her expression turned dark before deciding to discuss the elephant in the room of the situation, "What I would like to know, is that how did a spy – who was the co-pilot – manage to infiltrate our secret operation that's been classified for sometime now, and I've been thinking this for the past two days: has there been a breach in headquarters?"

"*sigh* I don't doubt that there has been a breach back at headquarters." Ben thought about the same thing of what her partner was talking about, "I bet Director Khan knew about it last minute before they sent us off across the English Channel. So, I guess, he's incensed right now. And knowing him? He's on a warpath."

Sabine nodded, "If O.S.A. headquarters had been breached, then that means all operations had been compromised, especially the S.H.C. Ted-Offensive that will happen tomorrow midnight."

"Don't twist your panties in a hose." The pilot squirrel darkly said, "Director Khan isn't stupid to let all of those secrets to be compromised… he's not a tiger to be •••••• with. So let's not doubt about the other shoe to drop, Sabine, the O.S.A. is still in the game, and not out of touch just yet. You can trust me on that."

"Trust is not a word that you can count." She said, "For spies like us? We operate with our hands dirty; remember that. And besides, we aren't saints in this line of work, what we do is the unthinkable on how we sacrifice ourselves to go around gathering information for what deems necessary. The Director expects these results, meaning we have to do our job in order for us to succeed and to accomplish the mission; failure is not an option."

"Whatever you say." Ben sighed…

For a while, both operatives watched the Tediz's marched until the show ended with a few bunch of tanks that been rolling through the streets, and boy do those tanks look menacing: attached with double cannons, gray paint with the Tediz sigil, and a horse power engine that would scream 'run for your life' if you ever encounter such a beast of a machine. To be honest? The Tediz knew how to put the fear in their hearts or minds.

"*yawned* It's getting late." Agent Blitzkrieg said as he stretched his arms, "We should probably head back to the Cabaret before Tediz patrols prowl in the night looking for trouble."

Agent One felt extremely uncomfortable on heading back to that place, as that 'said place' is famous for being shown too much skin for everything left to be desired, "Do we have to? I'm still not a fan of that place, you know."

"Well, Jacques is the sort of type of person to know how to 'liven up' as he said." Ben laughed at her partners insecurities, "And besides, we got some business to discuss with him, he's sort of our employer in crusade of his, a true revolutionary to the French people."

Sabine grumbles, "He's a pig."

"A pig with golden a heart, and a man with a romanticized sense of idealism." He said, giving her a shit eating grin with a wink, and right after she punched him in the shoulder for being such a jackass; it was worth it, "Other than that, he might already know about the mole who set us up, including Jacques resistance."

"And you're sure of that?" Spoke the Agent with the red hood.

Ben nodded until he stood up from his seat, "You bet your sweet little chipmunk ass, I do. So let's head on back and get this over with. Cuz I'm a squirrel who can't resist a beautiful woman offering a good time."

"Of course you would." She stood up from the bench and gave him a deadpan look.

Ben looked over at his watch before he announced, "We should head towards our extraction near Pepe's Toy Emporium, our contact should be waiting to pick us up. It's not that far from here."

"Good. I'd rather not walk in this city." Sabine agreed.

The two agents left the scene, and took a stroll in the streets of Paris as they continued towards their destination. It's hard to see the people who have to live in this oppressed city with plenty of restrictions, and being forced to be on curfew hours after 10:00pm at night with Marshall law, since the Resistance have been hammering on the Tediz like dog-sharks with deadly sets of teeth to sink their skin.

There is still activity in France, going about their merry way and just pretending that their lives are normal.

But not for Agent One, because everything of what she's seeing is not normal. She looked through the eyes of every miserable squirrel, chipmunk, mice, skunks and every other race they lived through their miserable lives. Sabine gives a small prayer to grant a miracle for this country to be liberated, but only time will tell if it were that to happen. The Squirrel Army is coming tomorrow, and she will do anything to make sure that they succeed in their part; same goes with the Royal Alliance. Her kind have been fighting tooth and nail the southern border of France for the past three years; she hoped things will go well for her people…

"Do you think Jacques is holding us for his own interests?" She asked her partner, catching his attention.

"Probably, he was the one who contacted us. For ten days, he's kept his radio communications network for us to reach out to the mainland. He should've provided us access to use his equipment to call for headquarters since we first got here, but he didn't. So yeah, he is holding us out." Ben explained, "My guess is, is that he's evaluating us, trying to see if we do a good performance for him to earn his trust. Honestly, there's some good reason for him to do something like that, but it's a pain in the ass to go through all of his chores. A few days ago, we blew most of all the Tedi-panzer's, rescued the hostages, assassinated a few whistleblowers and Tediz Officers; you see where I'm going with this!"

"We're not his clean-up crew." Agent One was incensed, "As noble as it sounds, we have our own priorities for being here, Agent Blitzkrieg, and that is to find the location of the Super Cannon's that's nearby and ready to be used for the Ted-Offensive. We need to find them before it's too late."

"And you're right about that." Ben agreed, as they both turned around the corner, "We wasted enough time playing his charades, so now it is us that we do the talking."

*RATATATATATATATATA*

They heard shouting and screaming just down by the road, as the sound of gunfire was heard close to where they would be meeting up. Both agents looked at themselves before running towards the shots that were fired. As they both made to their destination, they saw a body of a dead mongoose with bullet holes, and another mongoose wailing her dead husband who's been clutching the dead body at a nearby toy shop.

Along with a crying little boy, clutching his bunny doll as he kneeled.

Sabine felt her stomach churned by the grisly sight, as she looked towards the people who were responsible for this gruesome style of execution. She saw what appeared to be a weasel wearing a French police uniform with decorated medals, along with three Tediz soldiers holding three smoking barreled MP-40's, the famous designated ultimate 'bad guy gun'. Agent One looked to see the French police walking as he placed his foot on the dead corpse holding a revolver model 1898 Lebele with 8mm cartridges in his hands. She then saw lifting him lifting his trusty pistol and shot the mother in close range right between the eyes, making the boy scream in panic as he rushed towards her and bawling his eyes out.

"Que cela serve de leçon à tous ceux qui menacent la loi." The French police officer spoke in warning, "Quiconque ose menacer la paix sera exécuté comme vous venez de le voir ! Les traîtres et les espions comme ces cafards que vous voyez ici en sont un parfait exemple."

Sabine felt wrath in her heart, seeing the cop shoot an innocent family while leaving a boy to its own device. She wanted to kill him, she wanted to beat the crap out of that smug corrupt cop for taking away a boys' family. Suddenly, she felt a tug and looked to see Ben nodding to her to say that 'there was nothing you can do'.

"Très bien, le spectacle est terminé! En route!" The French police left the scene and headed towards his vehicle, along with the Tediz soldiers he brought along.

When it was over, everyone dispersed and left the scene, while the boy remained on his knees crying for his mother and father. The gut-wrenching reality that they saw just now was the tip of the iceberg; it appears that some folks in the French government all rather kiss their stuffed teddy bear feet than stand up to them, while letting this all happen.

Suddenly, she felt a tug as her partner felt it as well. Sabine looked to see a French squirrel wearing a green sweater with black trousers, sporting a sad expression. She guessed that he saw the whole slaughter that was shown to the people out on the streets.

"Agent One and Agent Blitzkrieg, I have been looking for you." Said the French squirrel, "My name is François, I've come to pick you up to see the boss."

She was surprised that he speaks English until her partner decided to break the silence.

"Are you here to extract us?" Ben replied in suspicion.

"…But of course." François smirked at both operatives, "Jacques told me to come pick you guys up so we could head on back to base, and he has some business to discuss with you two."

"AAAHHHH! Pepe! Clarice!"

They all heard a shout, and they looked up to see a mongoose riding a bicycle screaming 'brother' before sprinting towards the massacre that was left in the shop. He held his dead brother between his arms while the boy rushed towards his uncle; both cradling their dead bodies in a pool of blood.

"You know them, François?" Sabine broke the silence.

François sighed heavily, "Pepe? I know him. His family is unaware of my presence. He approached us to join our cause, but we turned him down because he should be focusing on his family more than fighting." He continued explaining, "Apparently, he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer, so we gave him simple delivery jobs for drop points."

Ben spoke up, "What happened here?"

"A way to show their 'appreciation' for us to the Empire." François spat at the mere mention of the soldiers setting an example, including the French police who're on Tediz payroll. He sadly looked at Pepe's family with remorse, "I guess I didn't see this one coming, with Pepe, I mean. We did everything what we could to keep him safe, but… I guess it was not to be. Repose en paix, mon ami."

Ben nodded as he understood, while Sabine just stood there and watched the distraught mongoose family for losing their loved ones. And one thing to understand is that a spy's line of work will have dire consequences when you get caught, and be manhandled by the enemy. Unfortunately, the Resistance spy got shot instead of being interrogated and sent to jail. When in war, blood will be spilled.

"We can't stay here." François urgently said, "We must leave immediately."

Both agents nodded as they, too, both left the scene of the 'crime' that the French police had committed to serve the peace of the people of France. If they have to hear that poor excuse one more time, they knew they're going to be heads rolling until the Allies arrived tomorrow.

~OOO~

(At the Le Fleur Cabaret)

Music. Booze. And women.

Those are the three things that you could always get when you come to a place to pop your cherry; to say that the establishment is a good way to relieve the stress from workloads of paperwork from a well days' assignment, one that has Earl's name on it, of course.

Earl sat at the table looking at the dancing girls up onstage, and singing sweet siren songs that would put anyone to their spell of rotten poison. But the Tediz officer didn't think so, and he was glad that he's a stuffed teddy bear, meaning he wouldn't get any diseases.

Ha! Suck on that Syphilis… or AIDS! Sheesh, nobody wants that.

Other than that, as he enjoys the establishment, he can't quite ignore the feeling that this place seemed way too calm, and much too comfortable. Now Earl is no stranger when he knows his line of work when the people of France knows the harsh punishments that he and his men performed when dealing with resistance fighters.

The waiters, the skimpy maids all seemed – and again – too friendly to in this establishment. So maybe Earl is feeling a bit jumpy, and to have reason is quite understandable when everyone in here in this building or anyone on the streets is a damn rebel, making his seven-month assignment mire stressful than ever.

He wished he could've stayed on the beach, supervising the construction for the invasion to show up for tomorrow. Not sitting down doing stupid paperwork for that idiot Frederick of his, and he couldn't forget that Earl had heard the Colonel oversee the operation which begins tomorrow midnight and the morning on the beaches.

Earl is tired. He is so tired of being stressed and hounded by those stupid french revolutionaries that keep hiding in the shadows. And just once, he wished he could get a small break to rest and sleep on his bunk bed; without the constant threat of being watched by civilians… and it's also clearly that the people are watching him right now as he entertained himself from the show. But most of the majority are Tediz from left and right: laughing and signing songs, getting drunk to forget their troubles, and so on and so forth.

"Et maintenant, Mesdames et Messieurs." A mouse came out on stage holding a microphone, "Le moment que vous attendiez: mademoiselle Véronique Stardust!"

The Tediz officer looked up to see a beautiful skunk girl walking out onstage wearing a teeny weeny sling micro bikini – with huge breasts – as she sauntered on the catwalk of the center stage. Earl, to him, is not a big fan of skunks such as her… because they reek of ass when the release fumes of hell. But dammit to all the plains of the seven rings that this skunk had crossed the top ten for being one of the hottest women that had the gal for showing off with everything left to be desired.

As he enjoyed the eye-candy that Earl was getting, he failed to notice someone sitting down on the table next to him, and alerting his presence. But luckily, it was just a friendly hace that he come to know him well: a big hulking Tediz with the rank of sergeant that he come to know him well since the day they were created.

"Heinrich, das ist aber eine angenehme Überraschung." Earl greeted him with a toothy smile, "Wie ist es dir ergangen, alter Freund?"

"Sie haben sich gut geschlagen, Leutnant." Heinrich replied, "Es ist eine Weile her, seit ich dich das letzte Mal gesehen habe. Wie ist es dir in letzter Zeit ergangen?"

Earl felt exhausted and mentally drained from today's workload, which he decided to speak and tell his tale, "Ich habe das Gefühl, dass sich meine Nähte und die Wolle von dem vielen Papierkram, den ich im Büro erledigt habe, gelöst haben. Sozusagen? Es ist ve•••••• furchtbar."

"Ha-ha-ha! Nein, S••••••!" He laughed at Earl's misfortune, "Wer ist es dieses Mal, Leutnant?"

The Lieutenant took a big swig of his beer before replying, "Oberst Frederick."

"Dieses schwachsinnige Schwein von einem Oberst?" Heinrich had squeezed the table, leaving a dent in the mahogany wood, "Dieser Frederick?"

"Ja, Unteroffizier. Dieser Frederick." Earl gave him a scowl, but clearly not being angry at him, only his Colonel.

Heinrich groaned, "Von allen… Du musstest einfach das Pech haben, zugewiesen zu werden! Also, was machst du bis jetzt hier?"

"Schalten Sie alle Rebellen aus, die sich auf der Straße verstecken." Earl took a sip from his glass, and gulp down the remaining tangy flavor down his throat, "Das schließt alle Informationen ein, die sie gegen uns verwenden könnten. Geheime Informationen, die uns gehören, Unteroffizier."

"Ich verstehe…" Heinrich nodded as he understood his commanding officer. The rat problem that's being caused around in Paris with the mess from the resistance are causing are destroying and stealing important supplies that were sweeping it off the floor. And kind to think of it, there were also important figures who were getting thrown out of the windows, which no surprise that those rebels had something to do with it.

"Sie sind hartnäckig, das muss ich ihnen lassen." The Sergeant chuckled darkly before flexing and crunching his fingers, "Aber das nächste Mal, wenn ich sie sehe? Meine Fäuste werden das Letzte sein, was sie spüren, wenn ich ihnen die Köpfe einschlage."

"Ich hoffe, dass du eine sehr gute Leistung erbringst, Heinrich." Earl mused, "Ich genieße immer deine besten Foltersitzungen, die sogar das Tediztapo in den Schatten stellen."

"Ha! Ich sorge dafür, dass du Plätze in der ersten Reihe bekommst, mein Freund!" He laughed away and enjoying the conversation they were having. Suddenly, Heinrich plucked a skimpy beaver maid before they both started making and sharing tongue, making the maid say an 'Ooh-la-la' from the steamy kiss, "Also… was hältst du davon, wenn wir heute Abend trinken, bis wir tot umfallen, hm? Ich will heute Abend etwas Spaß haben!"

Heinrich was right, maybe it was best to have some fun and enjoy the best moments this night had to offer. Earl then asked the waiter for another round before scurrying off to get his order, and enjoying the show nonetheless. What better way to just relax and forget his troubles with his so-called boss back at base.

Suddenly, Earl spotted three individuals who entered the establishment. He looked to see what appeared to be a chipmunk wearing a red hood, a squirrel wearing a bomber jacket with a shelby cap, and another squirrel who wore a green turtleneck sweater…

Something about those three looked out of place, but couldn't possibly put his finger on it. He stared for what felt like a few minutes, not keeping his eyes off of them for a second. But it wasn't long before the red hooded chipmunk stared at him back with eyes that meant to some sort of challenge, which was strange. Eventually, she relented as she walked away from the bar as Earl looked at them heading towards upstairs at the VIP.

Earl was called by the waiter when he told that his beer had been served. He thanked and just sat there contemplating about the last few minutes, then he took his drink and stared at his reflection with the scars on his smiling cheeks; thus letting out a tired sigh before drinking and enjoying this tonight's events.

In all honesty? Earl is still feeling really anxious, and again, he doesn't know why.

~OOO~

(With Ben & Sabine)

Sabine cringed at the loud, boisterous laughs of the patrons as she walked inside the cabaret. The women dancing and showing off their bodies to bloodthirsty murderer's was nothing more than an after though to them; maybe they did it to avoid confrontation, and trying to avoid and be shot outside by a firing squad.

Being in places like this, never suits her style. She was more of a 'Jazz-woman', a lady who rather be in quiet bars or speakeasy places back in England. Her favorite place is the 'Cock and Plucker', an establishment that totally has some rave with the Jazz band playing in the corner.

However, this place is the exact opposite: the smell of piss and booze, the moaning and pleasures of sex that happened behind closed doors, the music being too colorful with cover songs from a band called 'Sticky Fingers' and playing '(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction' on the side-stage, and too many lights to blind someone if you keep staring at them for too much.

For Ben? He definitely enjoys places like this, and for good reasons. Reasons that involved getting your dick wet from a cheap prostitute that would do anything for money, which Ben had no problem with that. It is a strange miracle for him to not be caught with a nasty disease that is just about common and normal these days. She would've laughed her ass off if he did, but that would be harsh and cruel, right?

'…?'

Nah. Not one bit.

She felt all eyes on her, especially that one Tediz soldier who looked at her way, as she walked in through the nightclub; probably having lustful imaginations on her. And, pretty much, trying to hard too look through her with their 'x-ray vision'. If someone even dares to cope a feel? Their balls will be hanged on the wall to mark them as trophies, and put the fear in their hearts to never cross a woman's virtue.

Her guard was up on the roof, not just because of those perverted idiots at the tables, but because she might get caught for suspicion. Maybe it's the red hooded cowl. Sabine thought she looked out of place for wearing something that speaks red flags, and not because she's wearing a cloaked and cowl. But having too many eyes can spell 'danger' if someone knows you from the dossier, and the Tediztapo was the exception from the best detective's of the Tediz Empire.

And one that she'd rather not deal with, because the Tediztapo does more than police work, they do all the dirty laundry to wipe the slate clean for being excellent spies in their line of work.

Yep, better to avoid that!

"There's a lot of Tediz in one establishment, the last time we were here." Sabine worriedly pointed it out from the crowd of soldiers drinking, whoring and singing songs of folktale songs.

Ben shrugged as he brushed off her insecurities, "Meh. I'm sure will be fine. They're just living the life, Sabine. In fact, you should also live the life, Babe!"

"Not the point, you asshat." She grumbled in annoyance.

Both agents reached the top of the stairs, and proceeded to head towards their business partner: the leader of the Resistance. To say that the man was sort of an eccentric bohemian stylish person makes him feel like a king who runs this joint, at least that's what the dossier says.

As they finally approached the VIP table, the revolutionists Jacques was in the table drinking wine and cheese, which was also occupied by two maids who worked at the bar, pleasing his fearless leader while enjoying the company. He is a mouse with gray fur, and wore rich eccentrics clothes that is close to resembling the victorian era, with a monocle on his left eye.

Very bohemian eccentric, indeed.

"Hé, patron." François announced, "J'ai apporté les invités que vous avez demandés."

Jacques' attention was distracted as he saw two of his employers who had requested his just about two days ago, knowing full well that he was glad that they were both alive. When he heard the news about the operatives, he felt immense guilt for the commandos being sabotaged during their operation, and almost meeting a fate far terrible than being shot in the sky. He then shared his hospitality as he rescued them from capture behind enemy lines, then they recuperated in the Cabaret by showing his hospitality, but the chipmunk with a serious attitude didn't seem to like his guts, or tastes. Oh well, he couldn't be bothered by that, what's important is that they are here and ready to discuss business.

"Merci, François. Je m'en occupe, vous pouvez partir." The leader of the French resistance thanked him as François departed, leaving his two guests in which were his new friends, "Ah! Welcome back! Good to see you again. Come! Sit, sit!"

Both agents sat down at one of the tables that the mouse requested, he tried to offer them some food, but telling him that they were not hungry. Sabine was first to speak, deciding to talk business, "I'm assuming you have something you have in mind. François told us this much, any particular interests you would like to share and discuss?"

"Ah, straight to business, I see." Jacques said before telling his French maids to leave them for now, "Yes. I was hoping you could help me with a little transaction I'm about to make tonight. I made a deal with a businessman from across the seas."

"What kind of transaction?" Ben asked.

Jacques sipped his glass of wine before putting it on the table, until looking at both the agents with a serious look, "…Guns. Lots of guns."

"You know our organization can provide you with the necessary needs for your army of liberation." Sabine's tone was all business like, "The O.S.A. can give you that edge you need."

"I don't want to ask or offer too much." The resistance leader shrugged, "I rather make my purchases a little more… private, as you say."

"Black market can get you into serious trouble, you know." Ben smiled as the negotiations were getting genuinely interested, "We don't mind helping you to provide support, because that's what we are here for."

Jacques gave them a sly smile before answering back, "And I'm humbled that you ask, but that won't be necessary. Occasionally, you have to get your hands dirty to make deals, such as this. There's a war out there, you know, and you have to take one step ahead to up the playing field. It's like chess."

"Who's your contact?" Sabine jumped the gun to ask that question, even Ben had an incredulous look on his face.

Everything seemed to be quiet, all except the music and party going downstairs before Jacques responded back, "…Don Weaso."

Sabine hissed and Ben shook his head for ever making a deal with that guy. They heard that he was on the Panther King's payroll, and he's notorious for being a dangerous mafia boss across the Panther Kingdom. And to think that Jacques was going to make a deal with him was asking for the revolutionist to have some kind of a death wish.

"Are you mad! A deal with Don Weaso!" Sabine protested, "That guy is a snake! He'll sell everyone out for his own interests."

"True. I know his type." Jacques replied as he then filled another glass with wine before taking it and savoring the flavor, "Unfortunately, his business is having serious problems ever since this war started. He's been my buyer ever since, and he has been very good to me for the moment, so far." He continued, "Don Weaso is afraid that the Tediz might ruin his entire operation and globalization for the market trading across Europe."

"What's the plan?" Ben asked.

Jacques had his hand on his coat and pulled out an envelope, "You will do nothing for now, at least not until the last act. In the first act, my men will handle the transactions and everything. Because this job I'm offering, is for you to take care of a snake problem that caused your operations to be known, and he's heading towards the meeting to make a deal with my buyers.

That both got their attention as heard him say that. Both agents would have to guess that the envelope that Jacques had pulled contained information on their mole problem. Sabine, for the most part, was glad that she would finally eliminate the threat that costed most of the lives that the traitor took from the dead commandos she had brought along on this trip.

"And if you do this?" Jacques said, "I'll provide you access to my radio to speak to your superiors. It is the least I can offer for the services that you perform under my supervision, and my fair well-earned trust."

Sabine held her tongue, she knew if she lashed out, it won't end well for this meeting, "That's generous and all, but you have something very valuable that you shared with the Director."

"And that is?" The Rebel leader spoke with a raised eyebrow.

"…The Super-Todeskanonen."

…

Sabine saw Jacques put his wine down on the table, and looked at both agents with a smirk on his face. He already knew about the weapons the Tediz had been developing, making her believe that there is something brewing that he isn't telling. But why? She already did him a favor, why go through the trouble to waste precious time…

"I see." Jacques spoke as if it weren't something that interests him, "I hate to be the bearer of bad news to say this, but there are no super canons stationed here. They were moved back to Luxembourg, at least that's what we learned, from where my men have infiltrated an occupied train yard where all their supplies have been stored. The Führer ordered it to be relocated because it felt best to keep it close to home."

Ben stood up from his seat as he shouted, "Are you serious!?"

"When?" Sabine also became enraged as she, too, joined in the shouting.

"Keep your voices down, idiot! You want to alert the soldiers in my club?" Jacques hissed under his breath, knowing that he pissed off two of the most important people that should not poke with a stick.

"When, Jacques? When?" She gritted her teeth, and squeezing her hand in anger."

Jacques felt the crosshairs being pointed at him, because that's how he felt right now. He kept everything from them since they arrived days ago. But he had been telling the truth, he knew that he wouldn't lie about anything that pertains useful information.

At the same time… they wouldn't understand how harsh the world has turned out. He had seen too much for him to break into tiny little pieces, and made him almost lose hope for what he fought for. The people of France had their necks been tied to leashes, yanking everyone's chains for them to show their rule on how things work for the Empire.

He has seen everything; past to present. The sky sunny with the summer period time, with children playing in the fields, wives cooking for their husbands, and workers – such as him – who put food on their tables. The daily lives for everyone all seemed in a state of peace, not a care in the world for someone who wouldn't worry about such things in life. Then the sound of planes came roaring through the sky's, the troops marching their lands with their flags hanging over their heads, tanks rolling in to town until the shooting started. The French Republics were beaten and annihilated within an inch of their lives, but all retreated to save themselves before biting back with a small fracture of progress. Then the chipmunk armies have arrived, supporting their military as long as they were able to provide, and also getting slammed by the Tediz for the past six years.

Paris is the only sanctuary city that's been untouched by war, while the south is literally been destroyed by pollution, by cannons and by poison gas all over the land; killing everything that is worth beautiful to the country. The sounds of gunfire can still be heard, far away from society, as they fight to reclaim what is theirs.

And Jacques is the only mouse who can do it.

"…About a week ago. They left before you would've arrived, but the enemy has discovered our base of operations: destroying radio communications to reach you. And starting from scratch again while we hide from them." Jacques held his ground, not letting them be intimidated by a pair of assassins, "I deeply apologize. But everything that we did? I only did it for good reasons, and it's thanks to me that the both of you recovered from your grievous wounds that have been have taken cared by our doctors that who would help anyone for you lot… You have to understand the conditions where I am at right now. Those jackbooted bears are one step ahead of us, and killing everything that I've worked hard to keep it in line!"

Sabine is still disgruntled, not clearly helping his own case, "Spare me the reasons for your losses. You lied to us, and costed more of the lives of our commandos for your crusade; even though it is noble for you and fighting for what's rightfully yours, it's still not worth the effort to put us to do your grunt work, Jacques. And you know it."

"She's right…" Ben stepped in, "Give us a good reason, Jacques. I mean, no offense, I appreciate the hospitality and the entertainment here, but I'm going to put my foot on this one. So talk: why have you kept this charade?"

…

Jacques put the folder down, then stood up, and didn't say a word until standing at the ledge of the railing with a faraway look. He looked down to see every Tediz celebrating, and enjoying the show of performance from the working girls. The girls whose lives he had taken care of since the start of the war, where he did everything he could to keep them safe as they got nothing to lose; to dance away and just hide the hurt in their hearts…

…With a smile on their faces.

"Look at them… just look." He mouses told both of them to stare at his direction, where all the troops had been spending their time doing at the club, "All of them enjoying the life while ours has been snubbed. These Tediz-. No, these stuffed bear jackbooted parasites are a disease that kept spreading like a plague across all of our home…"

The entire room was drowned in music as it began to play the song called 'White Rabbit' on stage while the girls move and listen to the groove of it, giving that entrancement. And everyone all just went quiet as they felt hypnotized by the song altogether while the famous Veronique began singing in a trance.

"I lost everything, and all I have is this!" He continued, "A Cabaret that a longtime friend who used to own the place. And you know what happened to him? Well, I'll tell you: he died while he has beaten up a Colonel of high rank for touching one of the girls, and the next morning he was dragged outside; placed him against the wall as they began firing a rain of bullets at him."

…

"Then they rounded up children to the barn, all scared and confused. The Tediz set the place on fire while kids began screaming for their mothers and fathers while the soldiers just set the whole building on fire, all laughing enjoying the carnage; I was there when they placed the barrel of a gun on head as they take pictures of me after wrapping it up and leaving me to my own. I thought it was the end for me, but I live to see another day in this world I live in."

…

"So look around you with your eyes! The war is all around! Everyone who became victims of the Empire were never given an opportunity to live a life of peace while the clouds of death hangs us all by a thread. You fools have to realize how serious this is, as there wasn't a day when you can walk safely while those monsters watched from every corner, hell, even your own bedroom closet! All of you have been with me, and seen what they are capable of!"

"We saw a father mongoose get executed by the military." Ben spoke up, as he interrupted the speech, "A man named Pepe had fallen victim at our extraction location that you set it up. I assumed you know him?"

Jacques gasped as he choked on his words as the agent told him the news, with his anger and hatred all forgotten, and only leaving the guilt and sadness, "Pepe…? Je n'y crois pas. When?"

"We heard gunfire as we turned around the corner, and the next we saw a crowd a people huddled around at the scene." Ben explained his side of the events, "An officer of the law along with Tediz soldiers were there, and the police made an example by killing the boys' mother as an act of justice for violating between the order and peace."

…

Jacques felt his whole body froze, clutching the railing so he wouldn't collapse by the overwhelming grief, "…I see."

Sabine decided to speak from her own experiences, "Look, Jacques, I get it. You had it bad when the Empire did plenty of damage, and believe me I wouldn't imagine what life would be if they come to our doorstep. I never thought the Tediz are this capable of mass destruction, if by a chance they are willing to go that far between it. We understand what you have been going through, but we have our own battles to face in this war, Jacques. And we all know this."

All three of them sat in silence, except for the music. The overwhelming weight behind their backs kept them from saying anything, but after pouring all their troubles (for Jacques, actually), everyone seemed to feel like their opinions on the front seemed to be relieved for now.

"Listen, Jacques, the fights that you've sent might be a reality to check, but we have to work together to well earn our trust." Ben spoke as he fished his cigarette pack off his jacket, "This will be the last time we're ever gonna see each other, so might as well make this our last once we get in contact back at HQ.

…

"…I know who the mole is." The resistance leader spoke after being quiet for a few minutes, then he left the railing and sat down on the tables and sliding it to them, "Everything in here is on this envelope. Let's go over the plan on how to deal with it."

~OOO~

(Panther Kingdom, England – The Office of Secret Actions Headquarters)

To say that the Director of the O.S.A. is not a satisfied man, not happy at all. For the past two days, he had lost contact with one of his best operatives by the hands of Tediz, which had managed to infiltrate and foiled their plans for this entire operation, and he had to suspect that their contacts from the resistance had something to do with this. He had no fact nor proof to know from their innocence, but he might have suspected that the radio silence was a dead giveaway.

However, that silence was broken when the plane he had assigned them was compromised by a spy and killing the rest with gunfire heard on the radio, and also the plane being destroyed via the sonar.

Director Shere Khan was not one for miracles, but he had a hunch that their agents might have survived. He waited to see that this is true, because he knows that those two are tougher than they look, and hoping a sign would come to pass. It has been two days, and no sign of radio contact was heard for the last ten days or so.

The Director had received messages by communication with the enigma machines to send secret letters and transmissions to decipher the messages. He had to hand to this Jacques fellow, the cavalier leader of the rebels knows his stuff with secret messages and hidden transmissions to fool the enemy…

Perhaps too clever, even for Khan.

Not one to be ousted; he admitted that he was quite impressed in his dedication and work to keep himself in the shadows, as to not draw himself too much attention for him to be compromised by the empire. If he were here? He would've shaken his hand, and possibly try to find a way to use him for other means he might deem necessary to his own interests. But said interest will have to be postponed if they were to survive this war, as the iron curtain from the enemy shrouds the skies like a plague sent to cause more chaos around the world; one that he doesn't need at the moment.

But Khan is not willing to let Jacques off the hook, for he is a suspect in this whole affair of transaction that the Frenchmen had made a deal to ask for assistance. Oh well, he supposed he had to wait and see, and hope he better have a good reason for all the shindig Khan had to deal with; for better or worse.

He stared at the moonlight in front of his window, looking at the giant pale rock hanging from the sky. Khan had a thought that this time of the season brings bad omen when there's a giant moon. He breathed in and let out a sigh, as the war keeps turning its cogs to a complete new level. Because rumor has it that the Führer, Hans Shickelbruger, is feeling under the weather, which made him uneasy. And that uneasiness is a result that the Füher will pick a successor to take the reign of the Tediz Empire, and that one person is-.

*KNOCK*KNOCK*KNOCK*

…I guess it would be better to hold the thought and get to work. He leaned away from the window and sat down on his desk as he placed his hands to rest his chin. The Director looked directly to see a mongoose enter his office, his closest right-hand man… and a man he could trust in his time of need. So let's hope what news he brings him, he is dying to know the results from the last two days.

"Report." The Bengal tiger said in a tone that's considered devoid of emotion, and with a chill of frost speaking to his assistant, "Has anything come up, Mister Bigsby?"

Bigsby pushed his glasses up before he spoke, "Yes, sir. We have news that the second spy has been apprehended, and we've been prying information from him as we used our methods to… force his secrets out of him."

"Excellent." Director Khan is pleased with this, "Take me to him."

Bigsby nodded, "Right this way, sir."

Well, it looks like this whole thing paid off so well, and Khan will always get what he wants to necessitate everything to win a war. And the spy will be that person to help him further his goals, whether he likes it or not. But will see how this all plays out, if he survives, that is.

~OOO~

(Back at France – Somewhere over the Country Side)

They've been waiting for hours, and it's past four-thirty in the morning. Everyone was on edge, they have no idea how this meeting will play out. As the Resistance knew that, Don Weaso, can sometimes play the Judas card to anyone who picks to betray. But luckily, it hasn't happened yet, so for now, everything is still smooth sailing.

François checked on his watch, and he knew that time was definitely running out. He knew they couldn't stay in one place, and most likely didn't want to be shot for various reasons: getting caught for buying stuff on the black market, or being near at the police under Tediz payroll, etc. By Aunt Giddy, he hated this part of the job; the waiting was so torturous that it would set your nerves into overdrive. He was never caught out to making deals like this, with all the waiting and whatnot.

"Pu•••• de m••••! Combien de temps allons-nous devoir attendre et nous asseoir ici pour cela?"

François looked to see his partner/friend – a chipmunk – getting antsy with all the incessant waiting. He obviously couldn't blame him, making deals with a mafia boss are way more complicated, "…Ne vous inquiétez pas, Jules. Ils seront là, espérons qu'ils tiendront leur promesse."

"Tch. Facile à dire pour vous." Jules scoffed, "Ce type fait toujours ça, tout le temps. Même si je suis content que le grand chef mafioso nous donne de la marchandise de la meilleure qualité, il nous fait toujours attendre quelque chose qui pourrait nous faire attraper, et tu le sais, François!"

He doesn't need to be reminded for how unbearable they had to deal with that guy. François may be a man and a squirrel with patience, but sometimes there are some things that he needs to put his foot down. Every black market deal he had made wasn't so damn tardy, because every buyer he comes across always comes in time to discuss the deals they had to make and leave without a trace to hide your tracks…

At least for François, that is.

"Je sais, Jules, je sais." He grumbled, even the rest of the Resistance all felt tired, and they all want to head on back to bed and sleep 'til there is nothing but everlasting paradise, including him.

*RUSTLE*RUSTLE*

Everyone looked towards the source of the sound behind the bushes; they lifted their guns and ready-aimed at the intruder. Suddenly, out came a weasel wearing a white pressed suit, until he rolled his eyes by the welcome entrance he had received.

"Is this how you treat everyone who comes with open arms?" Said the mysterious stranger, "I guess it makes sense either way, and with the war and everything."

François stepped in and told the rest to hold fire, before he set his eyes on him. He can tell that he's one of Don Weaso's men, because every year they send different henchmen to make transaction deals for weapons and other miscellaneous orders they come across.

"…Before you come any further." Jules spoke in English with a twinge of his native tongue, "What is the password?"

The dealer sighed annoyingly, "Imagination rules the world."

That made François ease himself for now, and telling the rest to put all their weapons down. He approached the dealer and shook his hand, but not before giving him the stink eye, "Your late."

"Sorry, bad traffic." The dealer shrugged, "Things didn't go according to plan, so we had to improvise."

François was having none of it, "Jacques told me that the meeting was supposed to be at midnight, but it's been four hours! So what kind of traffic got you all held up? You swine!"

"If you get pissy with me, Stronzo." The dealer snapped his fingers, and out came of bunch of his own men with guns pointing at him, making François and his Resistances do the same as well, "Things won't end well for you when someone disrespects me, ya dig? So why don't we all just calm down and be civilized, capisce?"

He really wanted to shoot him, but if he did that? Then the meeting will end up in a blood bath, making both Jacques and Don Weaso start a war against each other, but he had to suck it up get this transaction over with.

The sooner, the better.

Everyone all signaled, again, to put all their weapons down. Ending the showdown that was about turn into if one tries anything funny, as everyone didn't want to deal nor die with Don Weaso's gangsters.

Jules decided to break the silence, "Do you have the guns?"

"…Ha! Is that a test?" The dealer chuckled, "Yes, I have them."

François and Jules looked to see several gangsters carrying heavy crates of heavy ordnance, knowing the person that Jacques made a deal with was giving him heavy artillery. Then they set the crates down, and suddenly, one of them had a crowbar before placing it to the box and opening the container.

What they saw was more than they could've imagined, as the dealer picked an M1928A1 .45 caliber Thompson submachine guns: the famous Chicago Typewriter. The dealer tossed it to some random Frenchmen for him to play with it around and inspect the weight of it; next came the other crate, which the box had assortments of M9A1 Bazooka's, with the long and green tube that's used for the weapon's rocket-powered high-explosive warhead, and it was also designed for easy maneuverability and access. The last two boxes contained Remington Model 31's, and M1911 pistol's, which all checks out everything that's been purchased on the list.

And M2 pineapple grenades… with C4 explosives.

Perfect.

"Is there enough ammunition for us to use these weapons?" Jules asked the dealer.

"Everything all checks out." The dealer said, "There are three trucks worth of that stuff."

François spoke next, "And where are the trucks?"

"Just back there." He said, "Just say the word, and my guys will handle it."

Easier said than done. François ordered his men to head to the trucks to provide security, which made the dealer humble, and knowing he would use his men as cannon fodder… obviously. The dealer's henchmen picked up the boxes that were presented to them were carried to loaded back to the vehicles.

Jules spoke up, "Right, I guess we're-."

"Not so fast, cowboy." The dealer waved a finger, "First… let's discuss the deal with our payment."

François nodded, "Of course. Alexis? Apportez l'argent, puis allez vous reposer près des camions."

The resistance fighters handed François the case before heading towards with his comrades waiting for him. François then lifted the case, and opened it up to see stack payments of fat Franc bills all nice and pressed; the dealer raises a questionable eyebrow at the money that he was presented, which should've been green and not purple.

"There's an amount of ₣1,000,000.00 in this case." François replied as he negotiated the deal in transaction, "I'm sorry the money is not what you expected it to be, Monsieur. So to let you know that I've done this exchange from the Don's last employer's with Franc money, because I'm pretty sure that this is your first time handling an exchange with different currency, and your face said as much. I'm sure you can make the transaction back home to exchange the money for it. I… hope there's no problem."

The dealer hummed in thought before shrugging, "No, no problem. Everything is well in order." He ordered his henchmen to pick up the case, "I think this concludes our business. Don Weaso will be pleased."

And just like that the dealer left the area along with his cronies, leaving on François and Jules in the center of the meeting grounds, and making this another job well done. And Jacques will be happy to know that his guns are well underway as soon as possible.

"Allez, François." Jules spoke before he yawned, feeling the fatigue of sleep taking over, "Sortons d'ici, j'en ai assez pour ce matin."

"Vous lisez dans mes pensées." He yawned as well, "Je suis tellement fatiguée qu'une sieste suffira."

Jules rummaged through his pockets before handing him his keys, "Ici, c'est à vous de conduire. Je dormirai quand je serai rentré à la maison."

~OOO~

The ride to the countryside as the sun had risen was a sight to be hold, as Jules and François laughed and cheered together for completing there task. The sang folktale songs about the old country, and screaming good morning to some random farmers that are minding their own business.

"Ha-ha-ha! Je dois dire, François." Jules laughed at their unfortunate good luck, "Pendant une minute, j'ai cru qu'on était dans la m•••• à cause de ce porc de fouine et de ses voyous."

François couldn't help but join in the laughter, "J'ai failli me chier dessus! Cette petite salope pense qu'il est dur avec tous ses gars. Eh bien, j'aime le voir se battre en un contre un avec lui, et voir comment il aime mes poings."

"Bah, qu'il aille se faire foutre!" Jules scoffed.

François turned to the next intersection of the road, "Tu l'as dit, qu'il aille se faire foutre!"

"Ici, ici!"

Both fighters all agreed, and they were all glad to know that this whole fiasco has been resolved. And focus on other things, but what?

"Vous savez ce que je vais faire quand la guerre sera finie?" François said as he looked ahead on the road, "Je vais devenir écrivain et écrire de nombreux livres sur les aventures de ma vie personnelle. Quelque chose que je laisserai derrière moi."

"Vraiment?" Jules became intrigued, "Quel sera le nom?"

"…L'histoire de François." He said it with passion.

Jules snickered, "C'est un peu ringard."

"Va te faire foutre!" François pouted.

Jules laughed again at François childish attitude. He can't remember the last time he had conversations like this when the war started. When the Tediz invaded France, he basically had nothing: no home, no money, no family, and no employment. The only thing he had left was François friendship since they were kids, they were pretty inseparable, almost like brothers, only closer (Well, not that close!).

He wanted to go back to those time, a time when they weren't running from the law when the Empire had invaded France, causing its downfall, but it's military surviving from the invaders. But sadly, this is the reality that they had to face, and he was glad that his leader, Jacques, gave them a purpose and home with a roof to his head.

Now, Jacques was quite an interested mouse. He used to be famous when the war started, a writer whose passion flourished in the hearts of the people, and he's very charismatic with a strong voice that makes you want to believe and listen to hope. That includes being a charming ladies man, who swoons plenty of women like some sort of missionary, if it would be like that. But for the record, Jules believes that the man has plenty good intentions to free France, so the people can have a better tomorrow, for him and François to have a better tomorrow.

However, there is something's that sends the wrong signals, and it's with Jacques. Jules thought that his leadership was sort of… extreme, to put it that way. He sometimes knows that the mice can go overboard when it comes to dealing with prisoners, and he would rather not talk about those events. The war can change a man, and a man sometimes gets pushed to the brink to do terrible things, things beyond limits that will be even more darker for something to commit an atrocity.

He can only hope that Jacques doesn't lose sight of what he's fighting for, because he would rather not see his leader become something worse than what the Tediz can do. They need to be better; they need to stay strong, with mind and body.

Jules let out a haggard sigh; his expression turned miserable, as his conflict with himself is taking a toll on.

"Tu as quelque chose en tête, Jules?"

He was snapped out of his funk, until he looked towards his friend with concern in his eyes, "Ah, non. Ce n'est rien."

"Vous êtes sûr?" François asked, "On dirait que tu as quelque chose en tête?"

…

"Pensez-vous que cette guerre va se terminer?" Jules replied, but his was low and conserved.

François heard him loud and clear. He then frowned and kept looking at the road, as the silence became very insufferable. To be honest, he had no idea if the war with the Tediz Empire will end soon. Because for the last six years, the allies from the Royal Alliance and the French Republic are having problems on the south border, and it seems like the Tediz are having more leverage than the armies they tried to push…

He's no fortune-teller, and he sure as hell can't look through the future. The fate of the world is decided by Mother Nature to handle the life of all creatures… and of all creation.

"Je… Je ne peux pas vous le dire." François said with distant eyes, "Tout dépend de la façon dont les choses se passent, Jules, allant jusqu'à se battre jusqu'au bout."

"Même vous?" Jules said as he stares at the country with the morning sun, before looking at him, "…Même vous iriez aussi loin, mon ami?"

He gripped the wheel of the car, until he sighed and gave Jules a wan smile, "Oui… même moi."

Jules smiled, as he was glad that both would fight to the depths of hell if they were to free their country, and so maybe they could have a better tomorrow. A tomorrow where people could be free and breathe fresh air, "…Je vois… Alors je me battrai jusqu'au bout pour libérer ma maison."

Both friends smiled, as they mutually agreed with each other to fight the enemy for them to win a tomorrow soon. It may not be today, it may not be tomorrow, but as long as you keep fighting, then hope for the future will be a bright day.

…

"Hé, François, arrête-toi, j'ai envie de pisser." Jules told his friend to stop the car. François did just that, as his friend pulled over and parked on the side of the road with the view of tall grass. He got out of the car, "Cela ne prendra pas longtemps."

François rolled his eyes, "J'espère que non."

As Jules left the car, he found the nearest bush for him to do his business. He unzipped his fly, then he let nature take its course as he felt the wind blowing through him, and felt the stream leaving him as he felt relief.

Everything seemed so quiet, with the grass rustling, and the birds chirping everywhere. Like this is the kind of moment that he thought about when he talked to-.

*BANG*BANG*BANG*

…

Jules, unfazed, heard the gunshots. He didn't have to guess or take a genius to know what happened next. After he finished his business, he saw the front of the windshield covered in blood and brain matter from his once best friend. He let out a distraught sighed, as he approached the vehicle when suddenly, a person came out of the back of the car.

Agent One climbed out of the vehicle, hiding all along without alerting her presence decked in full gear: her face painted with black lines on both cheeks, a black beanie with a black tight turtleneck sweater and on her person rope; black tight cargo Spec-Op pants with a pistol holster and bandoliers. She held a 9mm Luger with its barrel letting smoke out, the weapon she used to kill her target.

The French Fighter approached her, then acknowledging that the spy had been dealt with. Yes… François was the spy all along, and he felt hurt to know that everything he did won't be so forgiving. He found out from the report given to Soap, who had told him that François sold Pepe out for money, offering him provisions for his needs.

That opened a huge gash in his heart.

"Leave the gun; take his belongings." Jules said, before he looked to see that she was searching for anything value of him until finding after finally disposing the pistol by dropping it inside the car. He stepped closer to look at François corpse, then shaking his head disappointment and shame, "So… it's done then."

Soap nodded to him, "Yeah, it's done."

"…I've known him for a long time. He and I used to be mechanics before the war…" His voice was quiet, devoid of emotion, as he still kept staring at François' lifeless corpse in the car, "I never thought it would end this way."

"Don't let it get you." Soap encouraged him.

He scoffed, "You only say that."

"And maybe you're right. But you need to get yourself together, and not let his betrayal eat you alive." She said, "I may not know him that well, but I bet he used to be good for the past six years."

Jules didn't say anything, letting the silence drown in the noise all around him. Suddenly, both fighters heard a vehicle in the distance. He fished out his Walther P38 pistol while Agent One draw and equipped her trademarked tactical colt .45 customized pistol. They quickly hide under the tall grass, and waited in case the fireworks starts popping.

Both Soap and Jules saw a vehicle popping up out of the road, and instantly recognized the vehicle of the one who's driving. It stopped right behind on François' vehicle, until he stepped out of the car to see Ben signaling them to come out. As they did, both fighters holstered their weapons and approached to the other vehicle as they stepped inside the convertible.

"So, is it done?" Ben asked.

Soap strapped her seatbelt before replying, "Yes, it's done. Now let's get the •••• outta here before anymore surprises show up."

"Right. Let's." Ben turned the car on before putting the stick shift to drive, but not before looking at his second passenger, "You ok there, buddy? Feeling ok?"

…

"No." Jules said, looking out the window, "But thanks for asking."

~OOO~

(A Few Hours Later – In a Small Rural Village)

They have arrived at their designated coordinates, and both agents and Jules went through their separate ways as they went about their duties. The village that they were told to meet up seemed quite barren, and not quite a lot of people.

Both operatives would guess that people don't expect to get a lot of visitors, meaning that Jacques chose this place because how quiet and hidden it is to do shady businesses behind closed doors. But it's not it is the point, both agents knew that their just ordinary people minding to thier business and daily lives during times of war.

However, the conditions of this place is too much to be expected, as the whole place hasn't been well kept under maintenance: the smell of something that's coming out of nowhere and not pleasant, the houses hasn't even seen better days either, and even the people looked absolutely malnourished for the lack of provisions. This place is a dead zone, and one that not feels very accommodating for living conditions.

Sabine had to wonder why Jacques would pick the debriefing spot instead of his establishment. She finds it hard to hold her stomach with the smell lingering in the air, which smells like dead corpses. Fortunately, she didn't have to wait as she spotted Jacques speaking to one of his men, and in a heated conversation in which was… colorful.

"Nice place, isn't it?" Ben sarcastically broke the silence.

'Nice place my big fat c•••!' She inwardly thought as she scowled. This place sucks, and she rather have meetings some places that are more… clean. Sabine is starting to hate the country side, and one thing she would right down on her list of: one of the places to avoid.

Ben chuckles at her partner's misfortunes, "Come on, we wouldn't to keep him waiting, so let's try and appreciate his… eccentric hospitality."

"I will cut your •••• with a rusty bread knife if you say the word eccentric." Sabine hissed under her breath, only to earn a shit-eating grin from him; that's another list she would had write down to when the day she dies, "*sigh* Let's get this over with."

Both agents walked through the streets of the village, as they approached the mouse who is still talking to one of his French Resistance fighters, and then overheard a conversation about something that spells artillery in french. Might be something worth mentioning if it's about the invasion of the north at midnight.

Sabine is pretty sure that the S.H.C. already got the information about the artillery cannons, which is a job for the paratroopers to handle it. She had been keeping tabs from Headquarters, as the information from spies who had delivered them useful news proved resourceful to outsmart the enemy. Part of the job of being a spy is to steal and deliver information for High Command to analyze the battle plans they have been cooking for a while, and among other things, of course.

"Je m'en fiche, faites-le!" Jacques fumed as he told one of his men, he then dismissed until feeling the presence of someone coming up behind him, and was greeted by his best employees of the moment. He smiled as he spread his arms, "Ah! There's my favorite bunch, I hope you enjoyed the field trip to the country side, it's quite-."

"The deal is done, Jacques." Ben cut him off before getting to the point, "The mole has been dealt with, and we want to raise contact from O.S.A. headquarters immediately."

"What, already?" Jacques said, "We were just about to celebrate for a successful job wel done."

Sabine was next to talk, "The reward was to gain access to your radio communications to reach the mainland, if François' eliminated. I believe our performance and trust is well earned since we got here, so it's time for you to do yours. So please, get in contact with the O.S.A., our time is running short, and patience is very thin at this point."

…

Jacques sighed in dissatisfaction, "Fine. I guess you'll be missing the party. I'll get you both contacted to the mainland after I'm finished with a few things."

"No, we do it now." Ben crossed his arms, "So lead the way."

The Resistance leader cursed under his breath before leading his employers to the house. Finally coming to see the operative's their way. Both agents will finally get to communicate, and report about their situation from their time vacation in France.

Ben and Sabine had been good to him, but when the clock is ticking? It is time to move things forward, and get back to the real wet-work for the real purpose of this entire operation. But before they reached the house, they heard a scream of plea in french coming from the barnyard.

"AIDE!"

They ran to head through the source of person crying for help. So when they reached around the corner, they saw a naked weasel with two guards covering on both sides, standing in a makeshift gallows with a noose around his neck. He looked pretty awful, as he was covered in blood with swelling and purple spots. And the people all chanted to him, calling him a murderer and a traitor.

The beaten weasel begged and saying he was sorry, only for someone to throw a hard stone right between his face. He sobbed as he made a prayer to grant him mercy, and this action only rowed the crowd as they chant in spite with raw hate.

Ben was shocked to see such violence, and Sabine froze in horror for what is about to happen. These villagers are willing to go far to do something as execution, which the Resistance Fighters had no problem with by letting do as they please.

Not even one rebel to stop the act.

Sabine looked closer, and squinted her eyes to look close at the beaten up weasel. He looked quite familiar, but she can't put her finger on it. Probably because his face was so disfigured that you would even tell of who he is…

That didn't stop there, of course. One of the villagers was at the top of the gallows, and announced his cry to the people, "Cet homme juste ici! Mérite la mort! Quelqu'un veut-il s'y opposer?"

"Pendez-le! Pendez-le! Pendez-le!" The villagers shouted in chant.

"S'il vous plaît, je suis désolé!" The beaten up weasel kept crying, screaming for forgiveness, but the people would never listen. His cries are only deafening to everyone's ears.

*CLANK*

The trapdoor opened as the the prisoner fell to his doomed, snapping his neck harshly, and hearing the bone crushing sound as everyone heard it. Ending his life instantly as his body hanged as it moved lifelessly, then they cheered and danced around for seeing him die.

Ben and Sabine had no idea what to make of this, and certainly not one to comment on the act.

"Enjoy the act?"

Both agents spun around to see Jacques with a satisfied smile.

"Execution is part of the act?" Ben asked him, worried about his employers methods, "What the hell did that weasel do to deserve this?"

"It's a little thing called: justice has been served." Jacques spoke, "He had it coming. We tracked his whereabouts and his activities until we found him in a gentleman's club. My men and I waited when he's all alone, then finally nabbing him and doing all the works, and I thank you for sharing this." He killed Pepe, a family man in cold blood, so retribution was needed. And that what you see was only the opening performance, so his body will be paraded while the party begins."

Of course! Now she remembered. He was that cop who made an example to the people for killing the family when François located them to their designated coordinates at a bad time. If she had to be honest, she was glad the man has been dealt with, but at the same time? Sabine felt that there could've been another way to deal with the situation more… clean.

Ben cringed at what he said, feeling very uncomfortable for being around. He can understand the feel of wanting paybacks, but nothing like this. The things he's done in his line of work of business was different, compared to what these villagers did. Shit, having to fight for what's right or wrong is difficult to justified the situation that happened right now.

Sabine felt curious to ask, "Who was his name?"

"Officer Rene." Jacques said before picking his pockets to grab a carton of cigarettes as he lit one to inhale the nicotine flavor, "…He's a bastard under Tediz payroll as he enjoys the power he was given by the military, making him do exactly the things he wasn't supposed to do. And now, his career has been permanently terminated by my hands, as well as the people of France."

"I see…" Sabine replied, "Have you ever tried to talk to him for anything value?"

Jacques looked at her with expression of total disgust, "What's there to talk about? That he murder our people as if were for sport? Sorry, but there is nothing for that jackbooted swine for me to know nothing about him. He killed Pepe's family, leaving only his brother and son behind in this cruel world. Rene payed the price, and he will burn in hell for eternity for everything he's done!"

And just like that, Sabine didn't say anymore for her to keep on riling him. The leader of the Resistance has now been known as a loose canon, something that she will remember in her time in France.

"Anyway,I think it's about time that we deal with contacting your superiors." Jacques said as he flicked his cigarette before smiling, "If anything, maybe you would stay for a while and have food and drinks if you don't mind."

"Were good." Both operative's spoke at once.

The Resistance leader shrugged, "Suit yourselves… Oh by the way? I considered to ask assistant to your superiors to provide support and equipment for the Cause. I think I can trust you people now that we have an understanding, and… I hope that is reasonable for you."

Sabine and Ben were quiet for a moment, until the chipmunk raised her hand to him before shaking him, "Will provide you anything to help you, as long as we are at the same page."

"Merveilleux. Then I hope we make great business partners." Jacques happy to hear that things are moving well along with fight that will set everything up…

The three then headed towards back at the house to establish radio contact with headquarters, and the trail back had been very quiet as they didn't want to say another word. A fire has been lit up, everyone began to play music as the villagers all danced in celebration of the death of one traitor, but just how many people these villagers had killed Tediz supporters.

If they ask them, then pretty much Jacques has something to do with it. That man can woo the hearts of women, but also can do it for the people in who are at their worst moments. And Jacques, the leader of the Resistance? He's a man who should not dare to cross with him, as François fell victim to him as one of the O.S.A operatives had to do his work; they had to do it in a dramatic and tragically (from Jacques) fitting end to that said person… which is stupid, to Sabine, of course.

As they approached the house, Jacques led them upstairs towards the attic, and told them that the radio was theirs to use for the moment. Then the mouse left them to their own devices as he went downstairs to celebrate, leaving both operatives as they began to establish radio contact to headquarters. But both of them halted for a moment, and sat for a minute before they used the radio.

The sun was shining down through a circular window, looked out towards the sky as they loomed to see the clouds. Both of them couldn't forget what happened today, and both tried and failed to forget that experience as they just saw. They were no strangers to execution, as they have other methods to deal with prisoners of war, or just regular people. But they were only kidding themselves, because they both have executed several spies along the way, which was normal for them.

But… nothing like this.

Ben shook his head, "Hey… Sabine?"

"…Yes?" She said.

"Are we no different from them?"

…

Both of them stood still, and feeling the pressure hanging above their heads; to say that they are no different than the villagers was just nonesense. For many years in the force, both agents deal with situations like this: they implement the use of torture with water boarding, electrocution, and other appliances that would go beyond to the extreme!

So to say they aren't different from them was just a foolish way of thinking. And for Agent One.

"Your being soft, Agent Blitzkrieg." She in a devoid tone, "We are different from them, so don't try to compare yourself because of what we do. The things we do are nothing to what we do behind closed doors, Ben, so stop questioning with your morals."

"I… *sigh* forget about it."

…

"Do you-? Do you believe we're doing the right thing?" Ben asked.

Sabine sat there with communicator in her hand, trying to think of something to say to him. She then looked at his way, "In war? There is no such thing as doing the right thing… There never is, not with people like us."

"Yeah…" He let a haggard sigh, "I guess you're right… not like people like us."

~OOO~

(Back at O.S.A. Headquarters)

It has been hours since they pried the information out of the spy, and let's just say that Director Khan was happy that he got what he needed. He learned that they were more spies hiding behind plain sight, and he suspected that they could be sleeper agents ready to receive orders. Khan gave the order to track down all remaining sleepers, so that they may be able to eliminate any potential threat.

He was not proud of it, but it was necessary to protect the security of one nation to keep it out of all enemy hands. The Director expected that these sleepers had normal lives and families, living in solitude in a society that people tend to live for the majority. But unfortunately, their fates had been sealed, once you are a spy working for the Tediz Empire is something that must dealt with.

Still, he can only give those people his condolences.

When he reported to the General Staff, they gave the go-ahead to him to engage the liquidation from Tediz sleepers. He was surprised that he wasn't ousted by his decision, but he welcomed it nonetheless. It made everything to easy to deal the task rather than find an alternative route, which he wouldn't waste valuable time.

And he's pretty sure that weasel had something to do with it.

Director Khan sat down in his office, with his hands resting below his chin, with the moon shining down on his form; just waiting at his desk like a hawk ready to pounce its prey. It had been hours since he sat there at his office chair, waiting for the results of the liquidation process, and hoping that there's some form of success.

*KNOCK*KNOCK*

The door of the office knocked. He then heard the door opened, and came in the mongoose known as Mr. Bigsby. Khan could see that he's carrying a folder in his hand, and stood straight attention as he waited until he is spoken per his orders.

"Report." Director Khan spoke without missing a beat.

Mr. Bigsby cleared his throat, "I have good news, sir."

"Well, let's hear it." He replied coolly.

Mr. Bigsby rummaged through the files he had collected, and picked the first one to report about his findings, "We have suspected to believe that one of our field agents have survived, and they are alive and doing well, sir."

"Excellent." Director Khan smiled, "That is the best news I have heard in a while… Anything else you want to add?"

"Only that the leader of the French Resistance had kept them in radio silence." Mr. Bigsby pushed his glasses up.

"I see." He was unamused, "So he had the gal to use my operatives for his own agenda?"

"Only one, sir." Mr. Bigsby explained, "And it's the mole that foiled this entire operation we had it planned weeks ago, sir."

"Interesting." The Director stood up from his desk as he stared at the window, looking at the moonlight, "It seems that France has it fair share of spies. Were they sleepers?

"No." He said, "This one is normal. Agent One eliminated the target by hinding behind the back of the car from Jacques' orders."

"Impressive, but it feels more like his style than Agent One." The Director acknowledged the way it was handled, "Was there anything else?"

"Yes." Mr. Bibsby read the last report, "Progress on the elimination of all Tediz spies is in progress, sir."

Good. That puts everything back on track.

"Anyword on the cannons, Mister Bigsby?" Khan asked again, and Bigsby soon pulled his collar and felt himself sweat for what he is about to say, something that the Director took notice.

"I am afraid you might want to see this, sir." Bigsby handed out a folder to him as he placed it on the table, until stepping back a bit just for good measure.

Director Khan soon opened the folder as he read the contents paper of what was written. To say that he kept a level of confidence and control, as to not lose any composure while reading the file. And boy, he was not amused, "I see… So there weren't any canons, then."

"The leader of the resistance was telling the truth, at first." Said the right-handed man, "Apparently, they were pulled out and being relocated back towards their homeland; just before he heard the news until the Tediz destroyed their communications, making all transmitting contacts unable at the moment. I'm sure that was just a slight… hiccup."

"More like getting choke on a pack of peanuts." Khan was disgruntled, feeling a bit ticked by this news, "…We lost so much resources for this operation, I have to make a report and cover any damages for that rat's incompetence. But I suppose these things happen during last minute events, so I won't put that against him. Yet…"

"However, sir, it appeared that Jacques is willing to cooperate with us. He is willing to offer some information in exchange for the tools and equipment we can provide for him." Bigsby read on the file that he had received from both agents, "And he will be in contact should anything he had can help us with the war effort, sir."

That got Khan's attention. It seems that the rebel mouse will be glad to lend help in exchange for information, if they give the rebel army the edge they need. Now this is something that he couldn't pass on: troop militias that are willing to get their hands dirty to strike the enemy behind their lines. The perfect pawns for him to utilize against the Tediz while the real meat grinder arrives tomorrow morning.

Yes. The pieces of the chess board are now in place.

"That is excellent news. Tell Agent's One and Blitzkrieg that he will get the resources he needs." Director Khan replied coolly, "If we have to gain the upper hand, then we will be sure that we break the sword from the Empire."

He nodded, "At once, sir."

"And also, tell them to provide support for the resistance until something comes up on the channels for now." He said, "They'll have to play the part on the beach landings in Normandy, as our boys have to breach and secure those sites on the coast before they advance towards Paris."

"But what about the Royal Alliance? There been hunkered down in the South border ever since they arrived to provide the French army support." Bigsby reminded him about the other battle that's been happening for some time now, "Should we do something about it?"

"Nothing that we could do at the moment." Khan shook his head as he told him, "If the north can be secured, then the squirrels and second chipmunk armies can cutoff all supplies on that region to help on the south, even if the Royal Army do get supplies just beneath the border. So for now, they'll have to wait and hope for a miracle if this operation can deemed a success."

"Yes, sir." Bigsby accepted the outcome.

…

"I'm afraid I have some of my own bad news." The Director said, grabbing Bigsby attention, "My sources indicates that one of my other operatives have received word that Hans Shicklebruger has passed away in his death bed."

"What? He passed?" He was surprised to hear it, but finding it strange from him to say it was bad, "That's great! But I don't see why it's a bad thing."

"Be smart, and think harder of what I mean."

Bigsby looked through his eyes, giving him a spectacle look. He felt confused. Why would he think harder? Surely that the passing of the Füher could be a blessing, right…? Unless…?

"No… you don't mean-?"

"Yes, ." Khan had cut him off, deciding to explain, "He has picked a successor to lead the Empire, and that one person can only be the one that I feared for the world: Josef Kriplespac."

Bigsby gasped, "Von Kriplespac! The Kriplespac! The Führer has chosen him to be the next Reich for the Tediz Empire, even he created those abominations…! By Aunt Giddy…"

He couldn't blame his assistant for reacting like this. In fact, the news that Khan learned spelled death coming their way, and soon the weasel will announce the world that he has become the new emperor for the Tediz Empire. His power knows no boundaries as he creates awful terrible things to satisfy his supposed evil nature, and he reflects himself as the devil hiding in Mustela skin.

"…So, what happens now?" Bigsby asked as he found his voice.

Director Khan stood from his seat, and just looked out of the window. Contemplating for how this war is going to play out, "We keep this quiet for now, at least for the Chiefs of Staff. Once he makes his presence known and announced his inauguration, then I'll make the preparations to invite all the General's to discuss the matter with the new Füher and how dangerous he is."

"Y-Yes, sir. I'll… get things ready once storm arrives." Bigsby let out a haggard sigh, as he nervously shook from the terrible news that he just learned now.

"A tremendous hurricane is coming, Mr. Bigsby, a very dangerous one." Khan said, "We must be ready, and soon…"

Suddenly, they both heard the roaring thunder as the both looked at the sky to see hundreds, if not, thousands of planes flying and marching towards the invasion. It was a sight to behold, like the valkyries of legend folklore. The second is about to commence, and the tides war will have a huge impact once the Squirrel Army reaches through the mainland.

"It is quite the sight, don't you think, Mr. Bigsby?" He kept looking at the number of planes sailing away.

Mr. Bigsby nodded to his boss, "Yes, sir. It is quite the sight."

"The battle has just begun."

Yes. The battle has just begun. Director hoped that everything goes well with everything that is about to happen, as he can tell that their plenty of lives riding through those waves to achieve total victory, and victory is one thing that he must grasp.

Khan looked to assistant before spoke, "Do you want to know the first thing that it's about this war?"

"What is it?" He curiously said.

~OOO~

(Morning: Off the Coast of the Beaches of France)

The sky was gray as the clouds loomed over with a sign that spells danger in what lays ahead, with the waves and sea levels rising while the splashes of water could be heard from the ocean. There is bad omen waiting for them; omen that brings misfortune to the lives that they would have to face, as the sounds of thunder roared a cross the seas.

In the beginning, when man gives a paintbrush, they create art, but give a soldier a gun? They destroy, and leave nothing but to erase a piece of history.

*BLEGH*

Inside the higgins a squirrel threw up, wasting his last meal of the day. Everyone was packed full on the boat, feeling the waves moving and jumping around a bit. Until then, they heard the sound of cannons being fired towards the direction of the beaches, hanging on to dear lives as they were also being fired at.

People fight because it's the right thing to do, but when you are not fighting for a reason? You questioned yourself, and think: why do I fight.

What do you mean, sir?

At the middle, in front of the school herd of squirrel soldiers, stood a lone red squirrel holding his hands to stop the shaking feeling that he was getting. He pretty much felt his nerves going onto overdrive, feeling the dread crawling up from his spine, until he took some breathing exercises to calm down.

Conker picked up his pocket watch, and watched the time that read on the clock. It was past 6:21am, as time for him seemed to be the only thing that came into his mind. But why? To put it clearly, it was more like a mantra, as he just checked the time at a random to put his mind at ease, but not to soothe his anxiety.

Only for a little while.

Men like us can tell ourselves: if there was something when you think about glory, you only see death and destruction coming in your way, and when you are exposed to the reality that is war? You become a shell of what you once used to be, devoid of any personal traits that make you a person.

"Bandit six o'clock, get your head down!" The driver of the boat announced to the rest of the unit.

*RATATATATATATATATA*

Conker heard the sound of an airplane, and saw that it was heading straight towards one of the boats. He heard the plane's guns as it fire directly on them. Then the plane destroyed one of the boats, rocking as the boat that Conker was on swiveled before balancing itself back, then he looked back to see that one of the boats had sunken and staining the sea with red.

"Oh, Aunt Giddy, we're gonna die! We're gonna die!" A squirrel screams in panic as he saw one of the boats get blown to pieces by one of the planes.

"Stow the bellyaching, soldier! This what you trained for!" Captain Odin shouted at him, before turning to the rest, "We secure this beach, so remember to move up and head to the shingles. Just keep your heads down and keep moving, we got to get off this beach."

Easy for him to say, those bunkers that Conker is seeing in front of him? Will be the last thing he'll ever remember once they touchdown. He looked to see Scratch, Sam, Rodent all huddled up and together as they made some sort of pray. He's not much for praying, but it's better than nothing to make one, does it?

"Ok! Thirty seconds! Nice knowing you guys!" The boat driver announced.

This is it, the moment that Conker had dreaded for. He was seriously waiting for what could happened, as he was sure that once he reached through the finish line, it's death for him. But if he manages to survive? Then he can pray to Aunt Giddy for giving him his lucky stars.

And let's not forget, Mr. Bigsby. It's that war…

*WHISTLE*

Conker heard the whistle rang out, then he saw the wheel of the door being unlocked and ready for disembarked. He's starting to hyperventilate, and he's feeling terrified once those doors of hell opens to greet them with open arms.

…War is hell's playground.

End of Chapter 2

To be continued

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Now I know what your gonna say, and say that we were gonna get right on to the war stuff. But I decided to explore a little bit of world building for some characters that I've been introducing, and I know how you feel about Original Characters: that they don't make impact in thus story, which is understandable. And I added a character who will be acting as the head of the director of Office of Secret Actions from a game I would like to call Return to Castle Wolfenstien whose character is a tiger from the Jungle Book movie and Talespin show: Shere Khan. I don't know I thought it will fit with the tone because it reminded me when I was playin RtCW Tides of War from my Xbox.

Also I would like to point out that this chapter took me a while to get it done, and flesh it out as much as I could (because I wrote too much). To me it's not the best, but I would like to know your opinions to see if I can fix some scenes that would help me write a little better to add some juicy scenes. By the way, by the way, let's not forget that CBFD is a gag game that does parodies, so you'll be seeing some of that... Should it come to that, or not.

Anyway, I'll be taking a break. But don't worry, war is coming soon, and Conker will have a blast running from gunfire!

HandBill93 signing off.

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O.S.A. Operatives

Sky Jockey: Agent "Ben" Blitzkrieg

Sneeker: Agent "Sabine or Soap" One