WARNING: This story may contain content of an adult nature. If you are easily offended or are under the legal age to view adult content in your area, please exit now. This text is intended for adults only and may include scenes of sexual content or graphic violence. Reader discretion is advised.
Zavarka
by IndigoNeko, Cormenthor, and TaintedThylacine
Chapter 11
Monday, January 4th, 2016
Alex did a hop and a twirl in time with the music shi was listening to, kicking up powdery snow with hir hiking boots, the pleated black skirt around hir waist flaring, showing a pair of black lycra shorts. The tiger cub’s only concession to the freezing temperature was a gray hoodie with the letters SCMS embroidered in navy on the front.
After adjusting the straps of the black and orange backpack hanging from hir shoulders and the lanyard around hir neck, the tigress continued walking down the snow-covered sidewalk towards the bus stop, bobbing hir head with the music. Shi was looking forward to talking with Steve, Cindy, and Jennifer on the way to school and with Azalea at school. It sucked that Azzy had to take a different bus now that her family had moved. Shi would have loved to spend the morning bus ride cuddling with the squirrel.
Alex didn’t notice the black Cadillac Escalade that pulled up next to hir and came to a stop until the door slammed shut and shi turned to look while plucking the earbuds out of hir ears. Three men in expensive-looking black suits stepped out of the vehicle and walked towards hir.
“Excuse me, miss,” the nearest one said in a Texan accent. The slightly pudgy snow leopard held out a wallet displaying a gold badge and an ID card. “I’m with the FBI. We’re investigating the disappearance of a young girl... a tigress who was last seen at Mel’s Diner here in town a few months ago. You match the description... do you mind if we ask you a few quick questions?”
Alex backed up slightly as the other two men, a huge white horse that stood over twice hir height with a mane cropped into a mohawk and a skinny tan-furred lynx with pointy ears, circled around hir. Before shi could even think about running, they’d formed a ring around hir. The fur on the back of hir neck fluffed up as the snow leopard put his wallet away and pulled out a small notepad and a pen.
“First... I’m Agent Douglas Lee. These are agents Jordan Bonita and Henry Franklin,” the snow leopard said, pointing at the lynx and horse respectively. “What’s your full name, miss? Including any middle names, if you have them,” he asked, setting the pen against the notepad, ready to take notes. “Don’t worry. This won’t take long; we can drive you to your bus stop if you’re running late.”
“Uhh...” Alex stammered, looking around at the three very large men around hir. The tiger cub glanced back at the snow leopard. “Alexandrea Valentina Kaminski-Andreyev,” shi answered nervously.
The snow leopard in front of hir lifted a hand and raised his sunglasses, looking down at the tiger cub with piercing blue eyes. “Did you say Kaminski?” he asked, disbelief evident in his voice, his eyebrows shooting up. “Is your mother by any chance named Raenne Kaminski?”
“Uh, that’s her middle name...” the tiger cub said, cautiously.
“Maiden name,” the snow leopard corrected. “And your father’s name?” he asked, quickly writing down the names on his notepad.
“David Andreyev,” Alex answered, starting to relax a bit. The snow leopard reminded hir of Mrs. Petry, hir English teacher.
“Your dad’s white with black stripes, right? You all live in the house up at the end of this street, about twenty houses that way?” the snow leopard asked, gesturing over his shoulder and getting a quick nod of confirmation from the tiger cub.
“That’s what I figured,” the snow leopard said with a sigh. “I do apologize for the inconvenience, miss, but you’re probably going to miss at least your first class. We need to have a chat with you and your parents.” He looked up at the horse standing behind the tiger cub. “Help her into the back of the car,” he instructed, pointing at the tiger cub and then jerking his thumb at the black Escalade behind him.
Before Alex could react, the huge horse had a hand around hir arm and was firmly pulling hir across the snow towards the half-open back door of the SUV. “Hey, let go! You’re hurting me,” shi said as the horse spun hir around and lifted hir by the chest, shoving hir into the vehicle like a sack of potatoes. The horse crawled into the seat next to hir, having to hunch over to fit, despite the spacious interior.
“‘enry, be gentle for fuck’s sake. She’s a child,” the lynx said with a cockney accent as he jumped into the front passenger seat. “Fucking brutes,” he muttered under his breath. All three car doors slammed shut as the snow leopard finished getting into the driver’s seat, followed immediately by the engine starting up.
The lynx in the passenger seat turned around, catching the tiger’s attention as shi scrambled upright. “Sorry kid. ‘enry’s a bit rough sometimes when we’re short on time,” he apologized. “Do you ‘appen to ‘ave a phone on you? Can you call your mum or dad to let ‘em know that we’ll be at your ‘ouse in a minute to talk with ‘em?”
“Uhh... Yeah,” Alex said, glancing fearfully at the horse next to hir. He was ignoring hir for now though, like shi didn’t even exist. After taking off hir backpack and setting it on the floor, the tiger cub sat back in the seat and pulled hir iPhone out of the waist pocket of hir hoodie. Shi didn’t even hear the window on the other side of the horse sliding down.
The moment hir phone came out, the horse snorted and reached over, wrenching it from hir hands, snapping the headphone cord in the process. He casually crumpled the phone like a piece of paper, making sparks fly and bits of metal and glass fall to the floor, then tossed it out the open window next to him as the lithium battery ignited, followed by the tiger cub’s backpack.
“What the hell?!” Alex yelled, scrambling back from the horse. “My phone! My backpack,” the tigress cried, watching as the window scrolled back up.
“Sorry kid,” the lynx said. “Change of plans. You’re under arrest for domestic terrorism, and we’re takin’ ya to the Denver field office. Ya really shouldn’t ‘ave been calling in bomb threats to get out a school,”
Alex gaped at the lynx in shocked disbelief. “I... I didn’t call in any bomb threats! I like going to school. What...” The tiger cub’s voice trailed off as shi realized they probably weren’t actual FBI agents and quickly turned around, grabbing the door handle and yanking it, then hitting the unlock button and trying again, but the door didn’t open. Shi punched the door and window in frustration and then turned around. Both the horse and lynx were eyeing her, the latter with a grin on his face.
“Ya won’t get that open, kid. Douglas put the child safety locks on, so it can’t be opened from the inside,” the lynx said, smirking. “You’re not going anywhere. ‘enry here won’t let you. Just put your seatbelt on, relax, and enjoy the ride.”
The lynx pointed at the horse and made a strange gesture, then pointed in hir direction. Almost immediately, the horse turned and leaned over hir, crowding hir against the door. Alex shrank back, fearfully, but the horse didn’t do anything, looking hir in the eyes. After a moment his gaze traveled down towards hir chest, lingering on the letters on the front of hir hoodie for a moment before moving on to hir skirt. The horse leaned down slightly and took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring.
The horse took a few more shallow breaths, with his mouth slightly open, showing yellowed teeth and closing his eyes briefly. That’s when Alex noticed the sudden swelling in the horse’s black silk slacks. Shi realized with growing horror what the growing appendage was.
Alex didn’t realize he moved until the horse reached out, putting his hand on hir thigh and moving his hand under hir skirt. Shi screamed at the top of hir lungs, squirming to get away from him and kicked out, hitting his stomach with hir boot.
The lynx in the front seat turned around, watching as the horse clamped one of his massive hands around the tiger cub’s leg to hold them in place, then grabbed the kid’s skirt and ripped it off with less effort than someone would use to pull a kleenex from a tissue box. “Fucking brutes!” the lynx yelled, pulling a handgun from his shoulder holster and a suppressor out from the pocket on the inside of his blazer. He frantically screwed the cylinder to the tip of the handgun, watching as the tiger cub in the back seat thrashed and raked their claws over the horse’s face. Blood spattered the pale leather interior of the SUV.
The horse shrieked, the first sound he’d made thus far, dropping the child as he clutched the side of his face. He bared his teeth in rage and grabbed the tigress by the hoodie, yanking hir back and then hurling hir against the door hard enough to warp the plastic and sending a spider-web of cracks across the window. As the tigress fell limp to the floor of the SUV, he raised a hoofed foot.
A shot rang out from the front seat and drops of blood sprayed across the ceiling, rear window, and back row of seats. The horse collapsed, falling in a heap between the two middle seats, rivulets of red flowing from the two small holes in his head.
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Raenne frowned and set her most recent mystery novel down, rolling around on the sofa while awkwardly fishing the ringing phone out of her pocket, silently cursing the fact that she was pregnant. The tigress frowned at the unfamiliar number with the caller ID ‘Scott Carpenter’. After a moment, she realized that it was Alex’s school that was calling and swiped the bar at the bottom, holding it up to her head. “Hello?”
“Hello, this is Scott Carpenter Middle School. Am I speaking with Mrs. Andreyev?” the voice on the other end of the line asked.
“Yes. Is there something wrong?” the tigress asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, according to the attendance records, your daughter Alexandrea wasn’t present in her first period Social Studies class, taught by Mr. Spencer. You didn’t give us prior notification that she wasn’t going to be here, so we’re calling to inform you that she’s absent.”
“I... Alex left here two hours ago, headed towards the bus stop. Did shi get on the bus?” Raenne asked, the fur on the back of her neck rising.
“I don’t know, but I can check with the bus driver and call you back later,” the secretary replied, trying to be helpful.
“Do that. Thank you.” The tigress ended the call, her pulse racing. After a second she remembered the tracker app built into the phone, ‘Find My’, or whatever it was called. She pulled it up, quickly scrolling through the devices list until she found Alex’s phone. It was less than a mile away, but the timestamp said ‘Two hours ago’ in red.
The tigress stood up and quickly walked over to the front door, stomping her feet into her boots and grabbing the car keys hanging from a hook on the wall, then stepped out the front door, grateful that she was already dressed in a tank top, flannel shirt, and her maternity khakis.
As she stepped out the door and headed down the steps to her SUV parked in the driveway, she quickly called her husband. The moment he picked up, she said “Alex is missing from school and hir phone’s last location is on the route to the school bus. I’m heading towards it now.”
“Okay. Are you going to call the police?” David asked.
“Yes. Love you,” the tigress said, quickly ending the call as she opened the door to her black Murano and awkwardly climbed into the driver’s side, swearing under her breath at her watermelon sized belly.
Raenne quickly turned the ignition switch and threw the SUV in reverse, backing out so fast that the car slipped in the snow despite the studded snow tires. Driving as quickly as she safely dared, the tigress held the phone up, watching the map on the ‘Find My’ app. As she approached the location, she slowed down keeping an eye open. To one side of the street she spotted several snow-dusted lumps. She hit the brakes and stepped out of the car, scanning the ground. She quickly took a photo of the scene just in case before approaching the biggest of the lumps. It was obviously Alex’s black and orange backpack. The other lumps appeared to be textbooks and binders that had fallen out. As she looked around, she also noticed a blackened patch of ground and a pile of burnt metal and glass... the scorched remains of Alex’s phone, crumpled smaller than a tennis ball.
The tigress immediately scanned the area, looking for hostiles, then held her phone up, calling 911. The call connected immediately. “Winter Creek Police Emergency,” the operator said.
“Hi. My daughter is missing. The school called me when shi didn’t show up to class this morning. I tracked down hir phone’s last location less than half a mile from our house, from when shi was walking to school. I found the phone; it’s been crushed. Hir backpack and the contents are strewn all over the road. I believe that shi’s been abducted.”
“Please don’t touch anything, ma’am. What’s the address?”
“It’s in the suburb on the northeast side of Aspen Glen,” the tigress said, quickly rattling off the nearest house number that she saw along with the street name.
“And your name and species?” the operator asked.
“Raenne Andreyev,” the tigress said, spelling it out one letter at a time using the NATO alphabet. “Species: Tiger. And my daughter’s name is Alexandrea Andreyev,” she added, spelling that out as well. “Also tiger. Shi’s ten years old.”
“Thank you,” the operator said. “We have police dispatched and they are on their way there now. Do you have any idea at all where she could be?”
“No. Shi’s not with hir father, not at the school, and I don’t see hir anywhere. There’s only two sets of tire tracks in the snow that fell last night and no sign of footsteps anywhere around the backpack. I suspect hir stuff was thrown out of a car. I’m going to get back in my SUV, see if there’s anything else further down the road.”
“Ma’am, please don’t do that. Wait until the police show up. They should be there in a few minutes-”
Raenne disconnected the call and put the phone back in her pocket, ignoring it when it started ringing immediately. She quickly climbed back into the SUV and carefully drove around the pile of spilled books and school supplies, driving further down the road. Less than thirty seconds later shi spotted a small black and white domestic cat, a feral, sitting on the sidewalk at the side of the road. It looked suspiciously like the one she and David had captured last week and taken to the local pet shelter. She slowed, noticing that the snow around it was much thinner... like the sidewalk had been cleared with a broom or something, leaving only a thin dusting from the past two hours of light snowfall. If not for the cat, she wouldn’t have noticed it, driving at the speed she was.
The tigress brought the SUV to a stop, then pulled her Beretta 92FS from the glove compartment. She cautiously pushed the car door open and stepped out, careful not to slip on the snow while simultaneously scanning the nearby area and houses for signs of life. As she stepped around the car, glancing at the sidewalk, she saw that the section she’d noticed was clean but for the recent snow... not even a paw print. She looked around for the cat but saw nothing, taking a breath and slowly letting it out, wondering if she’d hallucinated the sight of the feral, then walked a little closer.
Just past the sidewalk, the ground sloped down towards some bushes. Under the bushes was a large man... a white horse in an expensive-looking black suit. Blood had seeped a small, jagged wound at the side of his head above his eye; obviously the exit point of a small-caliber gun-shot. The tigress sighed in frustration as she heard police sirens in the distance and turned around, heading back to her SUV to wait for the cavalry to arrive.
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Raenne watched from a distance as two forensic detectives in white coveralls inspected the body, taking photos with expensive looking cameras. Red and blue light flickered across the scene from the light bar above one of the nearby squad cars, clearly visible even in the morning sunlight.
“Yeah, I saw the clean patch of sidewalk and stopped to check. I didn’t go any closer cause it might be a crime scene. You can see my bootprints right there where I stopped. That’s when I saw the body under the bushes. I heard police sirens, so I turned and went back to my car to wait,” the tigress said to the officer standing next to her. The German Shepherd continued to take notes on the pad he was carrying.
The tigress took out her phone as it began to buzz violently and ring. Glancing at the screen and tapping on the AMBER alert, she skimmed over the standard missing child message and clicked the accompanying link. Her eyes teared up as she saw the photo of Alex that she’d provided. The photo was followed by a description of her daughter’s outfit and a BOLO for the black Cadillac Escalade she’d mentioned seeing a few nights ago. She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her paw.
The two forensic specialists finally started inspecting the body, turning his head over. Raenne’s eyes narrowed, spotting a small black hole just below the horse’s other eye... which had been sliced open by the four parallel cuts that ran straight across his face. The tigress smiled viciously; Alex had clearly mauled him pretty well. The horse must have lost his shit when her daughter blinded him and one of the other kidnappers had probably shot the horse to keep him from killing hir. Given that Alex hadn’t been found yet, the cub was almost certainly alive. Raenne let out a sigh of relief and turned back to the officer next to her, realizing that he was listening to the incessant radio chatter.
Another squad car went up the street. The entire town’s tiny police force had turned up in force, all of them scouring the neighborhood for signs of the missing tiger cub. Raenne knew they’d never find the cub here. By now Alex could be all the way to downtown Denver. If her suspicions were correct, shi was probably on a plane headed towards New Jersey.
The officer looked up at her, still holding his radio. “Did you hear that?” he asked, realizing that the tigress wasn’t paying attention. “They found the black Cadillac. The interior’s spattered with blood. One of the rear doors was dented from the inside, the window shattered...” The canine paused for a moment, glancing down at the snow-covered street. “They found what they believe are your daughter’s skirt and hoodie in it. They’re gonna get forensics on it as soon as they’re done here.”
Raenne took a deep breath and turned to face the police sergeant, hoping he would actually believe what she was about to tell him. “Sergeant Kielder, I probably should have told you this earlier, but I didn’t think it was relevant until now. I ran away from home and joined the army when I turned eighteen. It was the only way that I could think of to escape my father,” the tigress said, taking a deep breath and waiting until his gaze met hers.
“My father leads the operations of the Солнцевская братва, the Russian Mafia, along the eastern seaboard from New York to Baltimore. Twelve years ago, I burned down one of his meth labs. I’ve been on the run ever since, which is why I’m living in this tiny-ass town in the mountains.” The tigress turned and pointed at the horse in the suit that was currently being stuffed into a black body bag. “Kidnappers don’t usually wear expensive suits and drive Cadillac Escalades. Do I need to draw you a diagram?”
“I’ll call the FBI,” the German Shepherd said, pulling out a cell phone.
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Pain woke Alex up. Hir head was throbbing, along with hir back and ribs, in the same place they’d been broken last school year, and the pressure in hir ears was intense. The tiger cub leaned forward and opened hir mouth, taking a deep breath and moving hir jaw forward as Mom had taught hir on the plane flight to Oregon. Shi sighed in relief as hir ears popped and the pressure cleared.
The tiger cub opened hir eyes and blinked furiously, trying to bring them into focus. One eye wouldn’t focus no matter how many times shi blinked; everything was half fuzzy. Still, it was enough to make out that shi was inside some kind of small vehicle. The snow leopard and lynx were sitting in the front seats. Both were wearing long-sleeved white dress shirts and bulky headphones. Alex tensed, looking around for the horse, but he wasn’t there. Shi was alone in the back seat with nothing behind hir but storage space.
As hir heart stopped racing, Alex realized shi was in a small airplane, not a car, and the lynx was in the driver’s side seat. At least... Alex thought it was the driver’s side. Shi had no idea which side the ‘driver’ sat on in an airplane and both sides had steering wheels.
Alex looked around the back seat where shi was sitting, eyes watering from the sunlight coming in the windows. The interior seats were pale beige leather, just like the Cadillac’s. The tigress brought hir paws up to hir head upon noticing the weight and pressure over hir ears. A pair of large headphones covered hir head. Shi tried lifting one of the cups off hir ears, then winced at the roar of the aircraft engine. The noise made hir headache ten times worse.
“Ah, sleeping beauty is finally awake,” Alex heard an unfamiliar voice say inside the headphones, and looked up. The snow leopard had turned halfway around and was looking back at hir.
“You took quite a nasty knock on the noggin,” the snow leopard said conversationally in a crisp British accent, clear as day thanks to the microphone on his headset. “I was wondering if you were going to sleep through the entire flight. That would have been a shame; you’d have missed the gorgeous view.” He gestured out the windows next to the tiger cub. “Oh, and I should probably mention that I took the liberty of trimming your claws after what you did to poor Henry. He completely lost his head after you scratched him.”
The lynx on the left let out a harsh bark of laughter and continued to snort in amusement while the snow leopard continued talking. “Unfortunately, he couldn’t join us on this flight. We left him on the side of the road after he threw that tantrum. And I do apologize, but we also left your hoodie and skirt behind. The button on your skirt was snapped and the hoodie... Well, I don’t think it could be salvaged no matter how much vinegar and baking soda we used on it. Don’t worry though! We have a brand new hoodie and skirt waiting for you at your destination; An entire wardrobe to choose from.”
Alex glanced down, realizing shi was wearing only hir gray polo and black shorts, then looked out the window at the ground that was quickly passing by them, hundreds of feet below. “Where are you taking me?” shi croaked, then cleared hir throat and repeated the question a bit more loudly.
“Well, we’ve got a couple of stops to make for fuel on the way, but our final destination is The Garden State, New Jersey,” the snow leopard said, sounding like a British tour guide. “Given how long we’ve been flying already at our current speed of one hundred forty miles per hour, we have approximately twelve hours left to go. We should arrive at some time just after 2 A.M. at the Camden County Airport, just outside Philadelphia, The City of Brotherly Love.”
“You’d make for a good commercial pilot,” the slender lynx commented when the snow leopard finished his speech, his cockney accent still as distinct as Alex remembered.
“Thanks, but I’ll pass. The pay is shit compared to this,” the snow leopard countered, turning back around to face the console.
“Righ’? I jus’ paid off my second mortgage,” the lynx agreed.
“Oh, and since you’re probably in a bit of pain, there’s a packet with a pair of Tylenol near your feet. The recommended dosage for children is one pill every six hours,” the snow leopard continued, obviously speaking to Alex despite looking at the instrumentation in front of him. “There’s also an iced caramel coffee. The caffeine in it should help with the headache. We weren’t sure what you’d prefer to eat so we got a bit of everything: Egg McMuffin, sausage burrito, hotcakes, and hash browns. There was a sausage biscuit too, but my inconsiderate friend here ate it.”
“I told ya ta get two,” the skinny lynx muttered.
“Oh, right. Sorry, that’s my fault then,” the snow leopard continued. “I left my Game Boy on the seat back there for you if you get bored. I hope you like Pokémon Emerald. Also, there’s no place to go pee in here, and we’re a few hours from the next stop. If you really, really need to go, there’s an empty coffee cup with a lid on it back there somewhere. I promise I won’t look.”
“You forgot the seat belt an’ tray tables,” the lynx added.
“Oh, yes. Please remain seated with your seat belt on and your hands and feet inside the cabin at all times while the plane is in motion and keep your tray tables in the upright and locked position while not in use. Enjoy the flight, and thank you for flying Air Bonita,” the snow leopard said suavely, finally finished with his spiel.
“‘At was a nice touch,” the lynx said, admiringly. “Air Bo-nita. I like it.”
Alex leaned forward and looked down at the charcoal colored carpet beneath hir feet. There were a pair of empty coffee cups rolling around, a small white packet, a brown sack with the McDonalds logo on it, and a cardboard cup holder with a plastic cup of pale brown liquid in it. After a moment shi looked up at the back of the seat in front of hir, wondering where the trays were. “Uh... where are the trays?” shi asked.
“Fuck,” the lynx swore under his breath, pulling a hundred dollar bill from his pocket and holding it out to the snow leopard.
__________________________________________________
David reached around his wife’s shoulders as she disconnected the phone call and started swearing. “A million fucking dollars? Seriously? I worked for them! I don’t need two full squads to deal with some puffed up gang bangers. If I wasn’t pregnant I could do this myself!”
The tigress growled in frustration and leaned back against the leather sofa, then looked up at the FBI agent in a cheap navy blue suit that was standing awkwardly next to the fireplace. He had been intermittently staring at her for the past five minutes. The raccoon, who looked to be barely out of college, straightened slightly. “Yes, ma’am?” the young man asked, realizing their attention was on him.
“What exactly is your problem? Never seen a female tiger before?” she asked sarcastically.
“No ma’am. I just... I didn’t want to interrupt your conversation. Agent Ericsson got word back from the Philadelphia office. I... um... I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but your parents... Viktor and Dina Kaminski... they died in a warehouse fire twelve years ago. Your brother’s been on the run since we captured most of the Russian mafia ring operating around Philadelphia about five years ago.”
“What, so a ghost abducted my daughter?” the tigress asked, snorting derisively. “The last time I saw my father was twelve years ago, and he was watching that warehouse burn from across the street. Hell, I talked to him on the phone last year. He wanted me to fly out to Camden with Alex, and I flat out refused. Trust me, he’s not dead.”
The FBI agent’s muzzle hung open.
“What? Don’t believe me? Feel free to leave a message on his answering machine if you want to talk to him yourself. The phone number’s in the black book over there on the kitchen island, under the name ‘Asshole’.”
The raccoon immediately started walking towards the kitchen island.
“Wait. You said the ARTCC caught blips of that Cessna flying VFR, headed towards Oklahoma City from Denver. Did they ever find it again?” the tigress asked, her tail thrashing as she glared at him.
“No ma’am. They didn’t see it again, last I heard,” the racoon answered, his ears going flat.
“Denver ARTCC covers nearly three hundred thousand miles of airspace and Oklahoma covers another two hundred thousand. They can’t just lose an aircraft,” the tigress fumed. “Check with Kansas City and see if they’ve seen anything on radar that might be small aircraft headed east. And make yourself scarce until you hear something; I have a private call to make.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the FBI agent said, bobbing his head awkwardly before grabbing the black book off the kitchen island and stepping outside via the side door.
Raenne glanced down at her phone, scrolling through the contacts list and tapping a few times. She held the phone up to her ear and waited as the phone rang... and rang... and finally cut to an answering machine with no pre-recorded message. After hearing the beep, she said “Samuelson, this is Kaminski. I know you’re listening. Pick up the phone already.”
A second passed and the phone clicked again, followed by quiet breathing for a moment before a deep voice asked “Sarge?”
“Yes, it’s me,” the tigress confirmed. “Kitty-Kaminski.”
On the other side of the line, over a thousand miles away, the black bear in tattered camo pants plucked the cigarette from his mouth and took a deep breath. “Sarge! It’s been like...”
“Three years. Yes, Brock, I know. I’m sorry. You told me to maintain radio silence, remember?” the tigress reminded her former squad member.
“Oh. Right,” the bear muttered, holding the ancient corded phone to his head while turning and walking through his filthy kitchen, sitting down on the only chair that wasn’t piled with newspapers or empty pizza boxes. “So something must have happened. What’s wrong?”
“You know I’ve got a kid, right?” Raenne asked.
“Yeah. You brought her over as a little tyke. Cute little kitten,” the bear said, remembering the day fondly. “Alexandrea must be, what... nine, ten years old now?”
“Turned ten back in August,” the tigress confirmed.
The bear reached across the kitchen table with his cigarette, accidentally bumping one of the many empty liquor bottles, and flicked it on the ashtray. “She doing okay?”
“No. That’s why I called. Back in Iraq... do you remember what I told you about my family-”
The black bear quickly shushed his former squad leader. “This line isn’t secure,” he said, putting his paw over the pistol sitting on the chipped formica table top and turning in place, the wooden chair scraping over the yellowed linoleum. He looked out through the gap in the newspapers taped over the window at the overgrown front lawn which was dotted with rusting hulks that had been vehicles sometime in the previous century.
“I know it’s not secure, Brock,” Raenne replied with a sigh, switching over to military lingo. “Here’s the sitrep. Current location: BFE, Colorado. Kid's gone Elvis. Local and Feds are moving like pond water. Found a deader wearing a monkey-suit and an exfil vehicle shortly after with the rest of him sprayed in it. Kids rags left behind; no intel on what she's wrapped in now. Bird left local strip heading east, dropped below deck soon after.”
“Fffuck,” the bear swore, then took a deep breath. “You think your da’s behind it?”
“Silk Armani suit, Cadillac Escalade, and a Cessna Skyhawk. Too good for gangs, too poor for politics. That’s cartel or mafia,” the tigress said, turning and looking out the glass wall at the front of the house. It was snowing again, and a plume of white exhaust wafted from the back of the Suburban that the FBI agents were sitting in. As she watched, one of the doors opened and the raccoon awkwardly climbed out of the SUV. “I can’t go; I’m pregnant. Due in a month.”
“Well, congrats on the bun in the oven. I remember where you said you were from. I know a guy out there, but I’ll need money for gear and a plane ticket. Search and rescue?” the black bear asked, tossing the cigarette in the ashtray and picking up the 1911 on the table. He ejected the magazine, dropped it on the table, and racked the slide, casually catching the round that flew out the top of the pistol. He straightened his back, looking more like a soldier in hiding than a crazy recluse.
“Search and rescue. Still using Umpqua bank?” the tigress asked.
“Yeah,” the bear said, rapidly popping the cartridges out of the magazine. He quickly stood and dumped the eight rounds into his pocket and then picked up the gun again, sliding it into the holster at his waist.
“I’ll wire you ten grand. It’ll be in your account in an hour. You still have my cell number? 7809?” the tigress asked.
“Yeah,” the bear confirmed. It was one of four sets of numbers written on the scrap of paper in his wallet. “I should be on site tomorrow morning at the latest,” he said, mentally calculating the straight flight time from PDX to PHL.
“The feds want to tap my phone. When you call, assume they’re listening. Thank you, Brock,” Raenne said, choking up.
“Don’t cry, Kitty,” Brock said, realizing just how much shit he had to do, including taking a shower, disarming the traps, buying civvy clothes... Hell, he wasn’t sure his truck still ran. He hadn’t left the house in months. “I’ll buy a burner and call you when I land. Gotta go,” the bear said, walking to the wall and setting the yellow phone back on its cradle.
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Tuesday, January 5th, 2016
After Douglas, the snow leopard, finished talking with Air Traffic Control and announced that they were on final approach, Alex sat upright, wincing in pain, and buckled the seat belt again. It had been dark for hours now, not that it mattered; the lump in the middle of the two rear seats had made lying down too uncomfortable to sleep. The cockpit was oppressively warm and the Tylenol they’d provided had worn off hours ago. Alex still had problems focusing with one eye and using Douglas’s Game Boy just made the headache worse. Altogether, the flight had been miserable and boring.
At least the snow leopard was a decent conversationalist, and had apologized (several times) for Henry’s actions. Douglas had explained that the horse had been born mentally challenged and was no smarter than a feral. He insisted they’d told the horse to take Alex’s phone and backpack away, not crush it and throw them out the window. Neither Douglas or Jordan had a clue why Henry had tried to sexually assault hir, since he’d never done it before and couldn’t speak.
With nothing else to do but talk and listen to the radio for the past ten hours or so, they’d talked about a bunch of different topics including airplanes, sports, and games. Jordan wasn’t very talkative, except when it came to sports, though he seemed nice enough despite his swearing. Those weren't their real names, of course. Just the ones they used on the job... which apparently consisted of doing whatever Alex’s grandfather, Viktor Kaminski, wanted them to do.
As the Cessna Skyhawk, the third one they had flown in today, dipped below the clouds, the plane was buffeted by wind and rain. The turbulence made Alex a bit queasy, but not enough to need to puke in the now-empty sack that had contained the hamburgers they’d eaten for dinner. The tiger cub wanted something to eat, something to wear, and to get some sleep.
Douglas had promised shi would get all that once they landed, and supposedly tomorrow shi was going to meet hir grandparents, who he explained had gotten so fed up with their daughter Raenne’s refusal to let them see Alex that they’d ordered Douglas and Jordan to kidnap hir. Shi didn’t believe them yet, but at least they hadn’t hurt hir like the horse had.
Alex braced hirself against the seat in front of hir as they approached the runway, watching the display above Jordan’s steering wheel... he’d called it a yoke, or something like that. They’d explained all the controls in the cockpit and how to operate the plane, though the tiger cub didn’t remember half of what the buttons did. They’d said that if hir grandfather let them, they’d be happy to teach hir how to fly.
Despite the turbulence and weather, Jordan managed a surprisingly smooth landing in the small aircraft, touching down gently and coasting down the small runway. When he wasn’t talking with ATC, Douglas explained that the airport wouldn’t allow them to taxi (drive) all the way into the hangar, where aircraft were stored. Instead they had to park outside where someone would refuel the plane and tow it into the hangar.
After they’d parked the small plane, it took a few minutes for Douglas and Jordan to go through the post-flight checklist. Alex was pretty well acquainted with the process by now and waited anxiously for them to unlock and open the door so shi could get out and stretch hir legs. The tigress noticed another man walk up to the aircraft, a pink-skinned boar in a black suit and a round hat, holding an umbrella and carrying a bag.
“Ah, here’s your escort, Alex,” Douglas said as the swine tapped on the door’s windshield. “It was a pleasure talking with you,” he said as he turned and unlocked the door, then pushed it open with the pig’s assistance. “Hey Harold. Take good care of Alex here.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” the boar said in a surprisingly deep voice with a strange accent. “I’ve got some clothing for you, miss. I thought you’d prefer to put it on in the plane where it’s dry before we head over to the car,” he said, holding up the black and white paper tote bag.
Alex looked him up and down, at first glance the pig seemed fat, but on closer inspection the tigress realized that much of it was muscle; He was a very big guy. The tigress cautiously took the offered tote bag and glanced inside, then pulled out a black hoodie with shiny black text on the front. After holding it out and staring at it for a moment, shi eventually managed to read the cursive: ‘Saks Fifth Avenue’. Too warm, but it would keep hir dry. Shi looked up, checking the three men... the pig was facing away from the plane and both Douglas and Jordan were busy filling out the post-flight checklist. Shi quickly peeled off hir polo shirt, which had started to smell funky, dropping it on the floor.
A minute later, Alex was dressed in the hoodie and a black pleated skirt that shi had found amidst the other clothes in the bag. The new skirt was similar enough in shape that it felt almost like the old one did, though it was a bit longer and heavier. Once shi was dressed and bid farewell to Douglas and Jordan, Harold helped hir out of the plane. The tigress took a deep breath, relishing the chilly air after spending hours in the warm airplane.
The pouring rain drummed loudly on the umbrella and there was at least half an inch of standing water on the tarmac. It was so dark outside that Alex wouldn’t have seen the SUVs in front of them if not for the headlights pointed at them. The idea of running off into the darkness flitted through hir head, but shi immediately dismissed it. Shi was tired, hungry, and sore, and the throbbing headache sapped the last of any desire to escape that the tigress might have had. The only thing shi wanted now was sleep.
The back door to one of the SUVs swung open as they approached, pushed from within by a slender parrot with green feathers and a curved yellow beak wearing pale blue medical scrubs. “Come on over here, honey. They said you were hurt and wanted me to take a look at you,” the bird said with a midwestern accent, holding her hand out.
Alex walked up to the door, peering through the gloom. This particular bird didn’t have wings like some of them did; Her arms were covered in scaly yellowish skin from her elbows to talons. As the tigress took the bird’s outstretched hand, the bird stepped back, pulling Alex up into the SUV. Alex sat in the back row of seats as the parrot closed the door.
The parrot turned around and looked at the tiger cub after flipping on the overhead light in the center of the roof. “Oh! Damn, honey. You look like David Bowie,” the bird exclaimed, peering into the tiger’s eyes. “Anisocoria. You’ve got one hell of a concussion, hun. Head hurts?”
“Uh huh,” Alex confirmed, “and I can’t focus with my left eye.”
“Harold, we’re going to need to get this kid to a hospital for a CT scan,” the bird said as the pig opened the driver’s side door and climbed inside. “Severe concussion and possible stroke. Anything else hurt?” the parrot asked, turning back to the tiger cub.
“My back is sore, and my ribs hurt where I broke them last year,” Alex answered, pointing at the spot on the side of hir chest.
“Does it feel like you broke them again?” the parrot asked, sitting down in one of the chairs in the middle row as the pig turned the engine on.
“Maybe?” the tigress said. “It’s not as bad as last time though. I was coughing blood and they had to put metal plates in-”
The parrot held up her taloned hand to stop the explanation. “So you’ve got a headache, eye can’t focus, sore back, and your ribs hurt. Anything else?”
Alex quickly shook hir head, then hissed in pain. “No,” shi said, fighting back tears.
“Okay. I’ve got some stuff called morphine that I can give you while we head to the hospital. I’m not supposed to use it for concussions, but that's all I’ve got besides Tylenol. It’ll stop the pain, but make you sleepy. You’re not afraid of needles are you?” the bird asked, picking up a white metal case that was sitting on the floor and setting it on the other seat before unlocking it and opening it.
The tigress slowly shook hir head, watching as the parrot pulled out a small pair of clippers and some packets, then pulled up hir sleeve and held hir arm out. The nurse quickly shaved a small square out of the fur on hir forearm and wiped it down with alcohol prep pads. “Huh. You have nice big veins,” she said, pulling out a small syringe and a tiny glass vial. “How much do you weigh?” the woman asked after poking the needle on the syringe through the lid of the vial.
“Ninety pounds, I think?” Alex said. “I haven’t weighed myself in a few months.”
“You weigh almost as much as I do, honey,” the nurse said with a smile, withdrawing the needle. “Hold still,” she instructed, using the talons on her other hand to secure the vein she’d picked out for the injection. A moment later the bird had emptied the contents of the syringe into the tiger cub’s arm and quickly swabbed it down with a cotton ball, then placed a round band-aid over the spot.
“You might want to lay down, hun. It’ll take effect pretty quickly,” the bird said, closing the lid of the medical supply case and disposing of the trash and syringe in a plastic bin on the floor. “All done, Harold,” the nurse said, turning off the overhead light and buckling herself into one of the seats, then turning around to watch the tiger cub lay down along the back row seats.
As the SUV started to move, Alex relaxed and listened to the patter of the rain against the roof of the vehicle but kept one ear pointed towards the front, listening to the pig and parrot debate which hospital to go to. The tigress hissed in pain again as the vehicle hit a bump a half minute later. Shi was already noticing the effects of the morphine though as it dulled the throbbing headache, and closed hir eyes.
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Brock stepped out into the nearly empty concourse, looking around to get his bearings. He’d been through a lot of major airports but never been to PHL. The black bear hoisted the duffle bag he was carrying and followed the flow of people exiting the plane, figuring that most of them were probably heading towards baggage claim. He kept an eye out as he passed several restaurants and small shops, eventually spotting one that had prepaid cell phones. They were from some company he’d never heard of called Boost. It took the cashier a few minutes to activate the Motorola phone for him after he purchased it. Still, he had a working phone with a 971 area code and that’s what mattered.
As he stepped out onto the concourse again, he casually walked towards baggage claim, spending several minutes figuring out how to use the flatscreen touch phone, which was slow to respond to his presses. It had a bunch of features that he’d never use, like email, a photo gallery, and something called NBA Game Time. Sighing, he got back to the phone’s dial pad and tapped in Kaminski’s phone number; one of three that he knew by heart. The feds were probably listening and it was six in the morning. After a bit of thought he came up with a cover story and hit the call button.
The phone rang for a while before Sarge picked up. “Hi Raenne. I know, you were probably sleeping late, but I had to tell someone. I got a date with Sophie! I’m gonna go pick her up with a rental; don’t want her to see my old banger. Oh, have you spoken with Baker recently? I can’t reach them,” the bear said, hoping she’d pick up on the roleplay... or say it was safe to talk.
Raenne blinked and cleared her throat before speaking. “You know it’s four in the morning, right?” the tigress asked, continuing the roleplay since the fed had tapped her cell.
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I got the time shift wrong. I thought it was eight. I can call back-” Brock said, sounding appropriately apologetic for whatever feds were listening in.
“No, no, it’s fine. I’m awake. I won’t fall back asleep soon. Nerves,” the tigress explained, hoping Brock would take the hint and ask for more info.
“What’s wrong?” Brock asked, playing along.
“My daughter went missing yesterday. I’m really worried. Called the police, the FBI, sent an AMBER alert... the works. They’ve got nothing, except for some radar signs of a small plane flying east,” Raenne said, trying to let Brock know he was on the right track.
“Oh, Raenne... I’m so sorry. I wish there was something I could do... I hope they manage to find your daughter,” Brock said, expressing the sympathy that he figured a real friend would, trying to think of a way to get any kind of suggestions on where to start the search. After a second, he asked. “I don’t want to sound insensitive, but... do you have any ideas for places where I could take Sophie?”
Raenne was silent for a moment, then gave an exaggerated sigh. “I know she likes Thai food, but she eats it all the time... Oh, I know: she loves Pelmeni. But take her someplace upscale; or she’ll think you’re being cheap. Tell Sophie I said ‘Hi’.”
“Oh, that’s a great idea! Thanks Raenne. You’re the best. And don’t worry about Alexandrea, I’m sure they’ll find her soon. Call me back if you get any news, okay,” Brock said, cutting the call and making a note to find out what the hell Pelmeni meant. He looked up, double-checking the signage, looking for the baggage claim and some kind of car rental. Once the car was out of the way, he’d meet the lioness at baggage claim. Then they’d need to go find Stephen’s place down in Wenonah; the old gorilla almost certainly had the gear they’d need... if he hadn’t kicked the bucket.
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Three hours later, Brock was knocking on the front door of an old house in Wenonah while Yahaya waited, leaning against the white transport van he’d rented. He tugged at the sleeves of his sweater and looked around, peering through the early morning fog. The neighborhood hadn’t changed much since he and his dad had last come visiting. He hoped the old gorilla still recognized him; it had been years since his dad’s funeral. After a minute with no response, he pounded on the door a bit harder, making the window panes a few feet away rattle in their casing. These old New England houses were built to last, but nothing lasts forever.
A few more seconds passed and he was about to raise his paw again when he heard a voice saying “I’m coming, I’m coming...”
A moment later he heard the chain rattle against the inside of the door and the door slid open, a rugged, gray-furred face peering through the gap between the door and casing. “Russel? No... Brock! Damn, son, you look so much like your father I could swear for a moment you were his ghost, come back to haunt me,” the gorilla said, pulling the door open. “What are you doing all the way out here?” the old primate asked, pulling his bathrobe closed and fastening the cloth belt.
“Well... long and short of it is I’m on a search and rescue mission of sorts. My old sergeant’s kid’s gone missing and we think it’s her family. The catch is... they’re mafia. The real-deal Godfather kind of mafia. Only Russian, not Italian.”
“Is that her? She looks African, not Russian...” the old gorilla said, jutting his chin at the lioness in a leather jacket leaning against the van.
“Oh no. That’s Sophia Yahaya, one of our squad mates. Sarge asked me to come cause she can’t; she’s pregnant and due to pop in a month. Sophia said she would help,” the black bear explained.
The old gorilla’s gaze sharpened and he glanced back at the bear in front of him. “Lemme guess... You’re expecting trouble, only you had to fly out here because time is of the essence and since you can’t take your gear on the plane, you came to me since you know I’ve got some.”
Brock nodded, looking sheepish, if a bear could ever be said to manage such an expression.
“Well, seeing as I was friends with your father, I figure I can at least help you out... My collection is supposed to go to my grand-kids, but I can give you a pistol or two so you’re not naked. Gotta write you a bill of sale though, so I’m not liable for anything you two do with it...”
“I’m not looking for handouts, Stephen. I just can’t wait three days for a background check. Sarge is backing us, so money’s not an issue, if you’ll accept a check,” the bear replied.
“Oh,” the gorilla said, blinking and straightening up a bit. “Well that changes things. You and your friend come on inside and we can go down to the basement, get you the gear you need.”
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Alex awoke feeling surprisingly refreshed, buried in soft, warm sheets in a wide bed... in a room that shi didn’t recognize at all. The walls were light gray with white trim, or covered in beige wallpaper with a tile pattern. Daylight streamed through the windows between shiny bronze-colored curtains. The tigress pushed the down comforter and glanced around. Nightstands with black and brass lamps, a wide wooden dresser, chairs in the corners, landscapes on the walls, an archway to another room, and a closed door... It felt like a hotel room, but far nicer than any hotel room shi had ever slept in.
The tigress pushed the white sheets down further and sat up, spotting the black hoodie and skirt shi had been wearing sitting at the foot of the bed. Shi glanced down... and sighed in relief. At least shi was still wearing the black shorts and sports bra that Mom had gotten hir for Christmas.
Carefully sliding out of bed, Alex padded around the bed, grabbing the hoodie and skirt and putting them on. The bag with the other clothes was resting on the floor, though it had clearly been re-folded from when shi had gone through it yesterday. Ignoring it for the moment, Alex looked around the room, noting the lack of the usual bedside hotel phones, and walked over to the doorway, hoping to find a bathroom. Pulling it open revealed exactly that, complete with a glass shower stall and a walk-in fur-drying booth. A personal grooming kit, still in shrink-wrapped packaging, sat on the toilet lid. Given how badly shi needed to use the toilet, shi quickly locked the door and set the grooming kit aside.
Perhaps thirty minutes later, the tigress stepped back out of the bathroom feeling at least ten times better after a hot shower and a good brushing. Hir back and ribs still hurt, but not bad. Now shi knew exactly what the nurse had meant when she’d mentioned David Bowie. The pupil of hir left eye was wide open, with just a few millimeters of the iris visible. That explained why shi couldn’t focus with that eye, and the headache.
After double-checking the polish on hir claws, Alex looked around the sun-lit bedroom for hir boots, finding them half-hidden under the foot of the bed. Shi quickly stuffed hir feet in them and redid the laces, then stepped over to the other door, hoping to find some kind of food.
The other room was a spacious living area with tables, sofas, a giant television on the wall, and a chandelier hanging in the middle of the room. There was a glass cabinet to one side with several bottles inside, next to a door that shi suspected led outside. Quickly stepping over to the cabinet, shi pulled the glass door open, looking over the selection for a moment before pulling out a plastic bottle of orange juice and popping the lid.
Grimacing for a moment at the taste of toothpaste and orange juice, the tigress swished the first mouthful around and swallowed. After the initial funky taste, the O.J. was pretty good, and shi quickly drained the rest of the bottle. Sighing, shi looked around while finishing the drink. If someone had told hir that shi would be kidnapped, being stuck in a fancy hotel was not what shi would have envisioned.
Alex dropped the empty bottle in a wastebasket, then walked over to the windows. The room was at least twenty stories up, overlooking some large city. Philadelphia, if Douglas had been telling the truth.
Tail thrashing in frustration, the tigress walked over to the only door left in the suite. Shi quietly turned the deadbolt and pulled the door open, revealing a hallway going to the right with another door opposite hirs. As the tigress peered around the corner, the pig shi had met last night stepped into view; a living wall in a black suit and derby hat.
“Good afternoon, miss. You’re just in time for lunch. I trust you slept well?” the pig asked, his voice just as deep as Alex remembered. This time, Alex finally placed the accent: British English, but with an asian overtone.
Alex debated trying to dash past him, but he was so large and... polite. “Uh... yes.”
“Excellent,” the pig said, smiling just wide enough to show the tips of filed-down tusks. “Mrs. Oliviera, the nurse you saw last night, wanted to check on you before we head downstairs for lunch with Mr. and Mrs. Kaminski. Is that acceptable?”
“Uh... Can I call my mom?” Alex asked, taking a gamble. They’d been very polite so far, but they’d also kidnapped hir.
“Mr. Kaminski said that after he has had a chance to talk with you over lunch, you’re welcome to call your mother and speak with her. Is it alright if Mrs. Oliviera sees you now?” the pig asked once again.
“Yes,” the tigress said, sighing.
“Excellent. If you’ll please step back inside your suite, miss, I’ll have Mrs. Oliviera come see you. She was concerned about your eye, and rightfully so.”
“Okay,” Alex said, stepping back inside and closing the door. It wasn’t more than thirty seconds later when a knock sounded at the door and it slowly opened, revealing the green-feathered parrot that shi remembered from last night, only dressed in a gray business skirt suit with matching sandals... with a flared heel for her backward pointing toe.
“Hello again. Is the headache any better?” the bird asked, stepping inside with the strange gait that digitigrade birds usually had.
“Yeah, a bit,” Alex answered.
“Good. We scanned you at the hospital after you fell asleep. No fractures, stroke, or internal bleeding of any kind. You’ve got a concussion though, and anisocoria, which is pupil dilation in your left eye. I’m sorry, honey, but there’s nothing we can do about that except to hope that it goes away over the next few days,” the parrot explained in a midwestern accent.
The bird walked over to one of the tables and pulled several small cases out of the pockets in her jacket, setting them on the table and opening them to reveal several sunglasses, most of which had darker lenses on the left side. “Unfortunately, with your eye dilated, exposure to the sun will damage your retina. So I took the liberty of picking out a few sunglasses for you to wear...”
Alex stopped paying attention at that point, leaning over the table and checking out the half dozen or so shades that the woman had brought. Some were sporty, others plain... One in particular, with thin gold frames, was a circle on the left and a rectangle on the right. If the lens colors hadn’t clashed with hir orange fur, shi’d probably have picked them.
The tiger cub picked up a set of classic Ray-Ban Aviators. The left lens was definitely darker, but it wasn’t as noticeable as the others, and they’d fit better with hir broad nose. Shi sighed in resignation as the bird pulled out a lighter and a pair of long clear tubes. Fitting temple tips around hir ears was a pain in the tail.
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Brock pushed the reindeer up against the brick wall in the alley behind the Russian restaurant. The buck’s legs were quivering in his black slacks.
“Please don’t hurt me,” the server whined. “I swear, I dunno anything about them. I’ve just seen a pair of old tigers eat here a few times. They’ve got people of their own, in suits. Look, I gotta get back inside, my break ends soon and my boss will come looking.”
The black bear pulled back and tilted his head slightly. “Who’s your boss? The owner?”
“No, just the manager. I don’t know who the owner is,” the reindeer said, brushing off his vest. “Look, do you want me to call him out here? If you wanna know who the owner is I’m sure he knows.”
“Yes. Do that,” Brock said, pulling out a crisp fifty and putting it into the buck’s hand. “And... Sorry. I’m trying to find a friend’s kid myself ‘cause the cops here are worthless and the stress is getting to me.”
“Fuckin’ tell me about it,” the server said, taking the cash and quickly pocketting it. “I swear to God, they’re as bad the fuckin’ mob or something. Last place I worked at, they’d come in every two weeks and the owner would hand ‘em a fat stack in an envelope. Never said a word to me about it, but I swear it was ‘protection’ money.” The reindeer turned and headed over to the rusted door that led back to the kitchen. “I’ll go get Rico for you.”
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Alex followed Harold and Mrs. Oliviera across the polished marble tile and out into the main lobby, slowing to take in the sheer enormity of the room with the giant, brightly lit pieces of artwork and the plants intermixed with seating. The exterior walls were lined with columns that supported the huge rotunda with an open glass dome in the center. It was a bizarre mix of modern artwork and ancient Roman architecture, like Alex had seen in hir Social Studies class.
Harold turned and waited for a moment as the tigress looked around, taking in the sights. “You’re welcome to spend as much time as you like sight-seeing afterwards, miss, but right now your grandparents are waiting. Right over there, in fact,” he rumbled, pointing across the room. Alex could make out the heads of a pair of tigers behind the broad leafed plants atop the low wall between them.
The tiger cub’s heart suddenly started pounding as shi realized that this was real, not some elaborate ruse of some kind. Alex had met hir paternal grandparents a few times, but knew nothing of hir mother’s side of the family. Shi was glad shi hadn’t decided to try escaping, as the thought had crossed hir mind quite a few times over the past day. Shi glanced down at hir shirt and quickly plucked a few of the more obvious white hairs off it, hoping shi would make a good first impression. The tigress quickly ran hir claws through hir shaggy hair, wishing shi had taken more time combing it.
“Don’t worry, hun. You look fiiine,” Mrs. Oliviera said quietly. “They know you’ve had a rough two days.”
Harold led them through a gap in the low wall and past a sign reading ‘Aqimero’ to the food-laden table where the two tigers were sitting. Both of their muzzles were liberally salted with gray fur. The larger male in a pale gray suit stood up, holding his paw out towards Alex. “Hello, Alexandrea. I am Viktor, and this is my wife, Dina,” the old tiger said with a thick Russian accent. “It is good to finally meet you.”
Alex walked up and held hir hand out, expecting a shake but receiving a firm clasp between both his paws. “Hello,” the tiger cub replied, then looked over at the older tigress, who was wearing a matching gray dress and pearl necklace.
“Hello, dear,” Dina greeted the cub with a radiant smile. “Do you prefer going by Alexandrea or something else?” the tigress asked with a gentler voice, but an equally thick Russian accent.
“Just Alex,” the tiger cub replied, smiling back.
“Please, have a seat, Alex,” Viktor said, gesturing at one of the seats in front of them while sitting back down. “I know you’re probably ravenous. Sit, eat, and listen, while we talk. We did not know what you would like, so we ordered a bit of everything.”
Alex glanced back over hir shoulder. Harold was standing perhaps ten feet away, and Mrs. Oliviera had stepped back outside the dining room area and was walking towards one of the lounge chairs. Harold nodded at hir, bowing slightly. Somehow reassured, Alex turned and pulled the chair out and took a seat. A variety of dishes sat in front of hir, including a hamburger, fries, caesar salad, some kind of soup, and empanadas.
The tigress picked up the hamburger, biting into it. Grease dripped down hir chin and shi closed her eyes, savoring the blend of spices in the patty, sharp cheddar, and garlic aioli. As shi chewed and swallowed, Viktor and Dina picked up forks and knives, digging into their own meals. After taking a bite and swallowing, the old tiger began talking.
“I am sorry that we had you taken and flown out here,” Viktor apologized, his accent thick enough that it was difficult to understand, though he was clearly fluent. “Your mother refused to let us see you. Trust me, we tried. The last time we spoke was... oh, nine months ago? I tried to convince her to fly out to see us here, but she insisted I go to Oregon instead. Unfortunately, I cannot leave Philadelphia.
“I understand that Mr. Lee and Mr. Bonita had some trouble when they were... securing you. An incident with Henry,” the old tiger continued, then looked up and looked to the side, making a gesture. “Can you tell me what happened? And slowly, please. I have a difficult time understanding children these days. English is not my mother tongue.”
Alex chewed and swallowed the bit of hamburger in hir mouth, then set the rest of the burger down. “Um... after Douglas asked me who I was, Henry picked me up and threw me in the car. Jordan asked me to call my mom, and when I got my phone out, Henry crushed it and threw it out the window along with my backpack,” shi said, looking up at the tiger and watching his expression. His brows were furrowed and he nodded, telling hir to continue, so shi did. “After that, he leaned over me, then started sniffing me. That was when he put his hand under my skirt...” Alex faltered for a moment, and took a deep breath. “I... I screamed, and tried to get away. I don’t remember what happened after that.”
The old tiger looked up and to the side, and a familiar voice behind Alex said “‘At’s when she kicked ‘im an’ clawed ‘is eye out. So ‘e picked ‘er up and trew ‘er against the door, knocking ‘er out cold.”
Alex turned around, surprised to see Jordan standing there. Further away, Douglas stood near Harold. The skinny lynx and the snow leopard were once again dressed in black suits, like Harold but without the derby hat.
“You clawed his eye out?” the old tiger asked, eyebrows raised.
Turning back around, Alex nodded, ears going flat from shame. Shi remembered aiming for his eye, but didn’t know it had actually come out. The very idea was horrible.
“Was that a total accident or do you have some training in how to fight?” Viktor asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Uh... mom’s been giving me karate lessons,” Alex stammered, trying not to cry.
Viktor raised an eyebrow while looking up at Jordan, who said “She’s ‘ad some training, sir, in Japanese martial arts.”
Upon hearing that, a smile spread across the old tiger’s muzzle as he looked back at his granddaughter. “Excellent. You did well, Alex, defending your virtue,” he said, then turned up to Jordan. “And then you killed the brute, to prevent it from doing further damage to my granddaughter. You, too, have done well, Mr. Bonita,” he said, nodding to the lynx before looking back at the tiger cub in front of him.
“You killed him?” shi asked, turning to ask Jordan. Alex was shocked to hear that Henry was dead. Douglas had implied that the horse was still alive.
“Yes, miss. ‘e was goin’ a stomp ya, prob-ly kill ya. ‘ere was no way I could stop ‘im. So I sho’ ‘im. In the ‘ead,” the lynx explained, with blunt honesty.
“Oh,” Alex said, dropping hir gaze. Now shi felt even more terrible; it was hir fault that Henry was dead. He probably hadn’t known better than to touch people like that, being mentally handicapped. If shi hadn’t clawed his eye out, Henry would probably still be alive. Frowning, shi turned back to hir grandparents, trying not to cry.
Viktor waved at Jordan, who stepped away, his shoes clicking on the polished tile. The old tiger picked up a knife and started in on his steak. After a few moments Alex pushed the plate with the half eaten burger away. Shi wasn’t hungry anymore.
Dina glanced across the table and set down her fork, having nearly finished the lobster she was eating. “Tell me, Alex... Mrs. Oliviera said you are a... hermaphrodite,” the older tigress said, stumbling over the unfamiliar word. “And are both male and female. What is that like? Do you feel more male, or more female? Does it cause you problems?”
Alex took a stuttering sigh and looked up at hir grandmother, blinking to clear the tears in hir eyes. This, at least, was a topic that shi knew how to deal with. Pushing thoughts of poor Henry from hir mind, shi explained “Yes, ma’am. It’s what I’ve always been, so I don’t know how it compares to being a boy or a girl. I like some things that girls like, such as clothes and fashion, and some things that boys like, like sports and cars. It definitely causes problems though. After people at my old school found out, I got beaten up so bad I needed surgery, and we had to move.”
“Is that why you learned to fight?” Viktor asked.
Alex nodded. “Yes.”
“What about school? Do you like your new school? How are your academics?” Dina asked.
“Ummm... I like my new school. They had me skip fifth grade, so I’m the youngest kid in middle school. It was a lot of work at first, trying to catch up, but I’ve still got straight A’s,” the tiger cub said, proudly.
Both Viktor and Dina raised their eyes at that. “The youngest in your school, and still doing very well. Impressive,” the old tiger said. “What of languages? Do you know anything besides English? Do you know Russian?”
“Мама научила меня нескольким русским словам. А папа научил говорить по-украински,” Alex said, hoping shi was pronouncing everything correctly. Both the old tigers across from hir grinned broadly, happy to hear hir speaking Russian. “I also know a few words of Japanese and Spanish,” shi added.
“You have no idea how glad this makes me!” Viktor exclaimed. “I was afraid that Raenne would never teach you Russian, since she hates us- hates me... for good reason,” the tiger said, hanging his head regretfully.
“Why does she hate you?” Alex asked. Hir mom had never talked about hir parents.
The old tiger sighed, and tried his best to explain. “I grew up in Russia, many years ago. Young women are not held in high regard where I was from. They were considered mostly useless and expensive. That is what I believed, too, though I do not believe it any more, because of your mother.
“When Ivan and Raenne were children, I assumed Ivan would inherit my wealth, my business. So I tried to raise him as a leader... and I thought Raenne would be useless. I was wrong. Ivan became useless and Raenne became a leader. Солдат. To my shame, when Raenne was no longer a child, I treated her as a toy, and gave her to my... employees... to play with.”
Dina growled under her breath, glaring at Viktor, who hung his head in shame, ears flat against his head. After a few moments, he raised his head again. “I have done many bad things in my life, but that was by far the worst. It is a sin that I will carry to my grave. I would apologize to my daughter, but I know that she will never forgive me,” he said, choking up, tears running down his muzzle to drip into his lap. Viktor went silent, using his paws to wipe the tears from his face. After a few seconds, the old tiger stood and left the table, walking blindly towards the staircase to one side of the massive room.
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