FIRE ON HIGH

    “Fire On High” is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. All characters and settings © Tigermark 2003-2007 unless otherwise noted. Request permission before using them, please.

The characters of Anatol Altaisokova and Melinda Altaisokova are my names for characters © Max Blackrabbit. They appear in this story with his permission. The characters of Brandy, Maxwell, Tonya and Zig Zag are also © Max Blackrabbit and appear here with his permission. Events and information relating to Tonya, Anatol, and their family are presented here, but are not to be considered canon to those characters or any other story but this one. ZZ Studios, and all characters associated with ZZ Studios, James Sheppard, and Marvin Badger © James Bruner and appear here with his permission. Although characters from and events referring to Zig Zag the Story appear here, this story is not canon to that one, and the author will disavow any knowledge of this story. Wanda Vixen © Chris Yost and appears here with his permission. Sabrina Mustidalae © Eric W. Schwartz and appears here with his permission. This story is not canon to Sabrina Online the comic, or Sabrina Online the Story, either. Matt Barstock, Angie, Intermountain Charter, The Bitch, and her crew, and Jerry Kitt © Silver Coyote. See their story HERE.  Gail Rutherford © me and is not canon to any other story involving ZZ Studios. Gabrielle Ryder © Aslaug, from her stories Transitions and Transitions II. See them at her site, The Axe Shed, available from the links page.

Author’s Note: Lewiston, Maine’s airport, identifier KLEW, is actually uncontrolled. That is, it has no control tower. Poetic license was used for this story, so Alex and company talk with a control tower whilst aviating there.

Author’s note: I normally keep the coarse language down to a minimum in Fire On High, but one character in this chapter will use quite a bit of it. Be aware, and read with the thought that it was done to fit the character, not to shock or offend.

Chapter 49

Another Crazy Day

Corrie sat back in her seat, waiting. She’d gone into the hotel lobby and had them call Alex’s room to let him know she was there. It had been a little over five minutes, but she wasn’t impatient. It was, after all, only 0500, and she wasn’t sure how long Alex had been awake.

Presently, Alex came walking out of the hotel. He was dressed in jeans and a faded flannel shirt, with an O.D. green cargo vest over the shirt and a faded camo boonie hat on his head. He was carrying a large thermos and two steel travel mugs.

“Morning, Corrie,” he said as he got in the jeep. Corrie noted he looked a little bleary-eyed, as though he could have used some more sleep.

“Good morning, Alex. Am I getting you up too early?”

Alex mustered a smile. “No, I usually get up pretty early, but I didn’t sleep well last night. Want some coffee?”

“Thanks Luv, I could use a cup.”

Alex filled the travel mugs and gave one to Corrie. As soon as he had the lid secured on the thermos, she started the jeep and began to pull out of the hotel parking lot. She took a quick sip and then suddenly stopped the vehicle. She held her mug up and gave it a squint-eyed expression.

“Hoo! Well, I guess I have to drink it. If I poured it out, it might get up and attack someone.”

Alex grinned and gave her a wink. “It’s good for you. Strong Air Force-style coffee. Just the thing to chase the morning cobwebs away.”

Corrie resumed driving out of the parking lot, and then cast a sidelong glance Alex’s way. “If you say it’ll put fur on my chest, I’m going to slap you.”

Alex held up a paw defensively. “Nope. Not me. I’m not going to comment one bit. Your chest is just fine and furry enough the way it is…uh, that is…Oh, nevermind! I told you I’m not awake yet!”

Corrie smirked, but then fell into giggles. She let Alex drink his coffee in peace as he tried to wake the rest of the way up. She sipped on hers as they left the city and traveled northwest on the two-lane roads.

“You didn’t sleep well? Anything wrong?” Corrie asked after a bit.

“Not really. I got a call from my business partner last night about a problem that cropped up, and I think that made me restless.”

“Oh.” Corrie didn’t want to pry, and Alex seemed reluctant to give any further information, so she let the matter drop. They drove on in silence for what seemed like a long time. Corrie began to feel concerned that Alex wasn’t enjoying her company.

“Alex, I’m no chatterbox, but either you really aren’t awake yet, or something is wrong. I don’t want to pry, but it’s going to be a pretty boring day if you just sit and stew on whatever it is.”

Alex sighed and took another sip of coffee. “You know me too well already. I’ll tell you what’s bothering me once we get to the fishing spot and get set up. Then I want to forget it for today. I want this to be a great time for us both.”

Corrie nodded and drove on in silence, wondering what in the world it could be that would make Alex so rattled.

# # #

“Tia, time to start getting ready to go,” Jenna called as she finished up the breakfast dishes. They’d both been up early, and Penny was due to pick Tia up at eight o’clock. By fortunate timing, and to Jenna’s notion divine providence, Andrew had spent the night over at Sal Idiri’s house, and they were going to a computer game show in Lexington for the day.

“Mom, I really wish you’d let me stay. I can handle Carl, and you should have someone to watch your back. What are you going to do if he has a gun?” Tia said as she walked into the kitchen carrying a small backpack and her practice bo. She planned to use the spare time at the Panelli’s getting some practice in.

“I plan on holing up here inside the house and screaming at the 911 operator. That’s my plan whether he’s armed, unarmed, no armed, or ten feet tall with arms the size of redwoods. Seriously, I doubt he’ll get that close. The police will be watching him, and if he sets one foot on our property, that’s trespassing.  That’s all the excuse they’ll need to grab him. Sheriff Clarkson herself called me last night to say they’ll start their watch for him at nine o’clock this morning. By then, you’ll be at the Panelli’s and I’ll be tucked in the bathroom with some sandwiches and lemonade. With the doors and locks Alex had put on this place before we moved here, it’d take an Abrams tank to break in.”

Tia looked dubious at that answer. “Then let me stay and keep you company. If they never get here, we’ll have had a chance to sit around and eat and yak.”

Jenna smirked. “Nice try, kiddo. You’re going to Billy and Penny’s, and that’s my final word.”

Tia took on a stubborn look for a moment, but then backed down. “Okay Mom. I’m going out on the front porch to get some air. I’ll let you know when Mrs. Panelli gets here.”

“Okay Tia. I’m going to start on my sandwiches.”

Tia nodded as she took her backpack and bo and headed out the front door.

# # #

Jefferson Mastifson the Third awoke early and stretched. He was feeling pleased with himself and the world for the first time in a long time. He might not have been able to confront O’Whitt face to face, but he was certain that by now the tiger knew he was in trouble.

“That’s what you get for showing off, and for causing me humiliation. I’m certainly going to return the favor.” Mastifson nearly chuckled to himself. He’d had contacts start snooping a month ago, while he was still at that joke of a training center. He nearly chuckled again. Like they could teach him anything about air regulations. Hadn’t he been a commanding officer in the Air Force? Hadn’t he been required to know the civil regs, so that he wouldn’t inadvertently violate them while flying or giving commands?

Returning to his train of thought, Mastifson lay back and let the sequence of events play out in his mind again. He’d inquired of his contacts about the whereabouts and movements of a white and black striped T-38. He not only got back a near-immediate response that it and its owner were based in Lexington, Kentucky, there were also several disgruntled types willing to make statements about the aircraft’s activities. A low-ender here, jealous of the wealth and freedom such an aircraft represented, a bitter private pilot there, sore at being cited for some similar infraction and not keen about someone showboating at their airport. That was all that had been needed for Jefferson to gather the statements he wanted. Apparently, O’Whitt had forgotten he wasn’t in the military while flying his toy. The maneuvers were accepted for military aircraft, but Mastifson was sure they wouldn’t apply to a civilian one. The ATC contacts who responded were all too enamored of the jet to be of any use, so he dismissed their input outright.

Rolling over, he was confronted by a tangle of blonde hair and a soft-looking, furry shoulder.

“Ah yes,” he quietly breathed, looking down his muzzle. “Last night’s desert. Well, I’m certain your flavor has gone flat now.”

He roughly shook the shoulder, eliciting a sleepy, “Huh?”

“There’s cab fare on the night stand. When I get out of the shower I don’t expect to see you.”

The Golden retriever femme had turned over, and blinked up at him uncomprehendingly for a moment. Then she seemed to focus, nod, and then looked away. “Yes, thank you.”

Mastifson slipped out of bed and into a robe as he headed for the bathroom. The femme quietly gathered her clothing, dressed, and went to the night stand. She picked up the money and counted it. Giving a soft tsk, she walked back to the chair where Mastifson’s pants were draped. She fished out his wallet and took another bill from it, then replaced it carefully. She might be a lot of things, but she wasn’t a thief. The money he’d left on the table would’ve gotten her exactly half way home by cab. She walked to the door, and just before closing it behind herself, she looked back and gave a snort, followed by a mumbled, “Cheap, pompous jerk!”

Mastifson himself gave the femme and the night little thought. He was to fly out on a commercial flight to Topeka, Kansas. He’d located a passable condition used Piper Seminole that would suit his needs. He was to pick it up at the dealer and fly back to Lexington on Sunday. A little pressure on the airport management company had secured him a spot in the general aviation hangars.

He grabbed a towel as he got out of the shower and dried his fur as he walked back into the bedroom. He nodded with satisfaction upon finding it empty. Sometimes the little fluffs he had for entertainment didn’t get the idea and hung around like they meant something to him. Those always ended awkwardly, for them anyway.

“Good,” he said to himself. He packed a small bag for his overnight needs, got dressed, and locked his apartment behind him as he left. As he headed for the airport, his thoughts again turned to his plans for Alex O’Whitt. As he thought about his course of action, the rotweiller was aware that he could have missed a few details, but he counted on O’Whitt to be surprised, and also to fold up under the charges and slink away, like he had in the Air Force. Mastifson had expected a great fuss and fight from the tiger, but, to Mastifson’s perception anyway, O’Whitt had retired without comment, even after Mastifson’s uncle had withdrawn his support for the action. Mastifson recalled meeting the tiger face to face once, but even though O’Whitt had made a direct threat, he hadn’t struck the rotweiller as being very aggressive. After he’d run the tiger out of aviation, and his company too, if it came to it, Mastifson thought he might make a run at rising in the ranks of the FAA. That would give him the power and prestige he felt he was due.

As he stopped at a red light, he grinned to himself. Everything was going as he planned. He still had the snarling grin on his muzzle as he glanced at the car beside him. A young canid pup had been looking his way from the back seat, but upon seeing his expression, the pup dove over in the seat. Mastifson scowled as the light turned green and the car turned down the side street. Somehow, the brief look of fear on the pup’s face had ruined his good mood. He drove on toward the airport in grumpy silence.

# # #

“Wake up, Carl, Your pa is here for ya.”

Carl Branson’s eyes popped open, and he struggled to comprehend the clock on the stand beside his bed. He finally focused enough to make out the paws. Seven? It couldn’t be that early if his father was there. He threw off the covers and got up, hurriedly dressed, and walked into the kitchen. His father sat there looking bored, except for the occasional hateful glance at his mother. She wasn’t looking too awake, either, as she slowly worked on breakfast.

“I’ll have your breakfast in about ten minutes or so, Carl,” she said to break the uneasy silence. Frank Branson suddenly stood up, giving a wink toward his son.

“No need o’ that, femme. I’ll make sure the pup gets a good breakfast. C’mon, the day’s a wasting.”

Carl’s mother blinked, but then just nodded. “You be sure he eats good then, Frank.”

His father’s lascivious grin made Carl feel sick, but his mother had turned away and didn’t see it. Before he could think or protest, Carl found himself hustled out of the house and into the old truck his father had bought when his car broke down recently.

“Ready fer our big day, pup? You better be, ‘cause I already told ya I ain’t havin’ no yellow pup fer a son. I need to drive out by Danny Rick’s shed and pick up somethin’ to make sure that little kitty an’ her momma don’t give us no problems. We’ll start us the day off right, an’ mebbe just stay all day.”

“But, won’t there be trouble when they report it?” Carl ventured, all the while looking desperately for any sign of the police. Then he realized they probably wouldn’t even start watching at his house for another two hours.

“HAH! They got you scared, eh? Don’t you worry, this is a widow we’re talkin’ about, an’ a kitty that’s about ta learn some manners. If we do it right, they just might ask us ta move in permanent. If not, well, my little friend will take care of that, then. You just relax an’ get yer mind set right, and you’ll enjoy this as much as I expect to.”

After a few minutes of silence, they pulled off the highway onto a dirt road. A short distance back among the trees, they stopped. Nearby was an old wooden shed. Frank Branson got out, unlocked the shed, and went inside. He returned a minute later carrying a box. He got back in without comment and opened the box, revealing a revolver and a box of cartridges. He loaded the pistol and laid it down on the floorboard under his seat. He turned the truck around and pulled back out onto the highway.

“Won’t be long now,” was his only comment, but Carl looked at the sheen of sweat showing around his lips, and the gleam in his eyes that looked more and more crazy as the minutes went by, and realized that sooner or later he’d have to either run or confront his father. Grimly, he began to try to think of a plan.

# # #

Corrie couldn’t think of a more perfect setting, even though sometimes trees and water caused her to feel a bit panicky. Today that was not the case. The trees were sheltering the bank of the lake, making a nice shade. The air was cool, but not overly so. The sun reflected on the water, turning the tops of the ripples into dazzling silver. She and Alex had arrived and unpacked their gear, and a few minutes earlier had cast their lines out to see what kind of fish might be biting.

She smiled broadly and looked over at the tiger. He had a serious, distant expression on his face, totally out of place with the location and mood right then. She decided to wait him out. After all, he’d said he would tell her what was bothering him, so she’d wait until he was ready to talk, or at least until he snapped out of his reverie. After nearly half an hour, though, Corrie had finally had enough.

“Are you bored of me already, Luv?”

Alex’s eyes snapped into focus and he nearly jumped. His head snapped around, showing a surprised and concerned expression. The movement was so sudden and quick that it startled Corrie. She didn’t jump back, but she did lean back from him for a second. Alex shook his head and his expression changed again, this time to a rueful grin.

“I’m sorry. I must’ve seemed a million miles away. No, far from boring. This is wonderful, and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now. I guess I need to go ahead and explain what it is that has me so distracted. Remember I told you my brother died in a crash?”

Corrie, understanding that what Alex was about to say was very personal to him, remained silent and nodded. Alex returned the nod and continued.

“He was an F-16 pilot, and one of the best. He crashed because a nearby lightning strike caused his instruments to malfunction as he took off into IMC. He didn’t notice that the instruments had gone out because his CO had commanded him to do a formation takeoff. The fur that gave that order was found to be a causing factor in the crash, but his uncle is a general, and when he was remanded to his wing CO for disciplinary action, he got off with barely a slap on the paw. He wasn’t done, though. Seems he had hard feelings about being named as a factor at all, so he started making calls and insinuating charges about me. I was in line to go to test pilot’s school at Edwards. Even had my class date, and would have been at NASA by now, but he got that derailed. I was given a choice of fighting him in a court martial, or retiring. Looking at the options, with his uncle being a three-star, I took retirement. By this time my dad had been diagnosed with stomach cancer, and I felt it was time to go spend time with him. I don’t regret that part of it at all. The fur who was the cause of it all was still the CO of the squadron my brother was in. After I’d made my decision, he managed to royally screw up out at Nellis, right in front of his uncle. His uncle doesn’t really seem a bad sort. He even offered to pull strings and get me back into TPS and keep me in the Air Force, but by then I knew it was time for me to go be with Dad. Anyway, after his screwup, his uncle forced him to retire, too. I stayed in the reserves, but this guy was pushed completely out. I thought that would be the last I ever heard of him. Yesterday, my partner told me, he showed up at my business. Seems he got a job with the FAA, and now he’s out to throw me out of aviation and close my business. This time, I’m not going to sit by and be a passive target. When I get back to Kentiger, I’m scheduled for a hearing on the charges he’s bringing. I plan to aggressively prove both my innocence and his incompetence.”

Corrie was stunned. How had Alex managed to get through all of that and not tear the fur apart?

“A-Alex, I don’t know what to say. That’s terrible! Why is this guy still after you?” she finally stammered.

“His idea of vengeance, I think. He’s pursuing a grudge because I made sure the truth was found out about my brother’s crash, and it set in motion his humiliation and eventual forced retirement. He’d be the type to do that, too. I met him once, in the hallway following the presentation of the findings in Jason’s death. The fur is a rotweiller, and a walking super-ego. Air Force Academy graduate, and won’t let anyone forget it. Even demands to be called by his full name. Jefferson Mastifson the Third.”

Corrie’s eyes went wide. “You’re kidding! Who’d saddle a pup with a name like that?”

Alex managed a smile. “Oh, he loved it. Faked a Boston accent to make himself sound all snooty and upper-crust. I haven’t decided whether to actively work to get him thrown out of the FAA, or just fight what he sends my way and let nature take its course until he gets himself fired. I have no doubt that will happen eventually. The FAA, even with all the faults it has, and though it’s a government agency, isn’t like the military. Actions have to go through the courts, if they levy fines. Actions that might take a license or suspend it have to have a hearing. They don’t tolerate loose cannons; it sets them up too much for lawsuits and congressional inquiries.”

Corrie nodded and then remained silent for a few minutes as she digested what Alex had said. She was very tentative as she spoke.

“Alex, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry, I’m just concerned.”

Alex looked at her warmly, a smile lighting his face. “I know you are. That’s one reason I love you.”

The words had slipped out so smoothly, Alex wasn’t immediately aware that it was the first time he’d said them. Corrie’s eyes lit up, and she returned the smile, hesitantly at first, as she replied.

“Jet Jockey, I love you too.”

Alex started to lean over to kiss the lioness, but just then her rod bent low and nearly jerked out of her paws. Instinctively, she gave a quick pull on the rod to set the hook, and turned the drag on the line to begin wearing the fish down. Alex leapt to his feet, but after noting how Corrie was managing the rod, he kept his mouth shut. She obviously knew what she was doing, and needed no coaching from him. After several minutes of give and take, the fish was close to the shore.

“Get the net, Alex! This feels like a bonza big fish, and I might lose it off the line if I try to lift it out.” Corrie exclaimed.

Alex grabbed the dip net and went ankle-deep into the water. As Corrie drew the fish past, he scooped it up in the net. He lifted a huge Northern Pike up, catching the loose part of the net in his free paw. The pike was only partly in the net, and wasn’t quite as tired out as Alex had thought. The fish suddenly, and very vigorously, flipped its tail back and forth, trying to escape and slapping him across the whiskers a couple of times in the process. Alex thrust his arms straight out, and put a foot back to maintain his balance. His foot hit a slippery rock, and he went down tail first, ending up almost chest deep in the water whilst desperately holding on to the fish. He looked over at Corrie, a grin on his muzzle, only to find her doubled over laughing. He took on a mock-frown and said, “Well, at least I saved the fish.”

Corrie laughed even harder, and Alex joined in. When she had recovered enough to stand, she got up and offered him a paw. “Oh Alex, you just looked so funny as you went down on your bum.”

Alex managed to toss the fish and the net onto dry land. He then reached for the offered paw. “Yeah, I know. Everyone gets a laugh out of a wet tiger. How about a wet lioness?”

Corrie had already begun to pull on his paw, so she overbalanced easily as Alex pulled back. He flipped his wrist as she let out a shriek, turning her in midair to land in his lap tail-first. The momentum carried them both over backward, and they came up soaked, sputtering and laughing. Around rivulets of water and continuing giggles, Alex found Corrie’s lips and finally kissed his newly-declared love soundly.

# # #

“Okay pup, the address I got for the pussycat and her momma is right ahead along this road. I’m gonna drive by, nice an’ easy, ta check the layout an’ make sure no unwanted company is there. Just sit still an’ watch.”

Carl had been silent the whole drive out, and that didn’t change now. He hadn’t come up with anything that seemed workable as to how to stop his father, so he’d decided to just watch for an opportunity to get away. Frank was too intent on what he had planned to notice. They passed a driveway entrance with trees back along either side. The drive went upwards on a long sloping hill, but just past the entrance and treeline there was a pull-in for a modest brick ranch home with a large front porch. The driveway and parking area stopped at the end of the house, and a minivan sat facing in toward the house. Carl saw Tia sitting on the top step of the front porch steps, apparently just enjoying the morning air. He didn’t think she saw him as they drove by. A fence ran between the house and the road they were on, beginning at the driveway entrance and continuing on for quite a distance.

“Da-aamn, pup! That the kitty on the porch? She’s a looker, alright. If’n mamma’s that good lookin’ too, this is gonna be a hellacious day.”

Carl didn’t even have to look over to picture the leer on Frank’s face. At the first side road, Frank turned around and drove back toward the house. As they passed again, Carl looked desperately at the porch. Tia was still sitting there, but she turned her head back toward the door as they went past, and he didn’t know if she saw him or not. His father hit the brakes and swung the old pickup in and across the driveway entrance, blocking anything going in or out. He backed up a little, and angled the front so it could pull directly out onto the highway in case he needed a quick getaway. He then shut the truck down and left the key in the ignition.

Getting out, Frank Branson checked the pistol as he picked it up from under the seat, and then tucked it into the waistband of his pants at his lower back. He made sure his hunting knife was secure in its sheath, and then he grinned back into the truck.

“C’mon, pup, time for some fun.”

“No.”

Frank was so stunned he blinked and hesitated for a moment. Then he snarled, but kept his voice low. Shouts would alert his quarry.

“That school’s made you yellow already. Get out right now or I’ll pull this blade and gut you where you sit.”

Carl could tell that no argument would change his father’s mind. He opened the door and got out, but then he took off running down the road. Desperation and adrenaline pushing him faster than he’d ever run before. Frank snarled again and started running after his son, but the fur wasn’t in the best of shape, and holding the pistol to keep it from bouncing out slowed him considerably. He only went a few yards before he stopped, panting. He called out after the fleeing canid, but not loudly.

“Ah, th’ hell with you. You’ll miss out on all the good stuff. Heh, that leaves more for me. ‘Sides, ya gotta show up sometime. I’ll take care of ya proper then.”

Carl glanced back to see his father turn and walk back toward the truck. When he didn’t hear it start up in pursuit right away, he figured his father had headed on toward the house. Carl kept running. He had to find a house with a phone, or another vehicle. The last house he remembered seeing was at least a mile, if not more, along the road in the direction he was running. They’d passed it on the way out.

He was getting winded, and would soon have to slow to a walk. Then he saw it. Just a glimmer at first, like a mirage in the heat shimmers off of the pavement. Then it got closer, and he could see it was a truck, much newer than his father’s. Carl began to wave his arms frantically. The truck slowed and came to a stop right beside him. The window came down as he leaned against the fender, gasping for breath. Before the driver could speak, Carl gasped out a desperate plea.

“Mister…please…help. Call…911…my pa…gonna…attack…O’Whitt’s…house…that…way.”

The way the driver’s face changed told Carl his message had been understood. The fur put a cell phone up to his ear as he motioned Carl around the vehicle.

“Get in. 911 is ringing.”

Gratefully, the young canid held his side and continued to pant for breath as he walked around the vehicle and climbed in. Help was on the way.

# # #

Tia was relaxing, sitting on the front porch steps enjoying the morning. The sky was blue, and a gentle breeze stirred the trees along the driveway and in front of the house. It was the kind of morning that would relax folks. The kind that felt as if nothing in the world could go wrong. Tia’s mood was far from a match for that, though. Her uncle had taught her not to be complacent when there was a threat, and today, there was a very big threat. She was chafing under her mother’s order that she go to the Panelli’s for the day. She could almost feel that there would be trouble, and she was sure her mother would be glad of her help to handle it when it came. Somehow, if her mother had chosen to leave as well, it would have been okay with her. Now it felt like she was being sent away like a little child who would be in the way and had to be protected.

Such were her thoughts as she watched an old pickup truck drive by. For some reason, she noted its color and make. Then she went back to her relaxed but alert contemplation of the late Spring morning unfolding around her. Mrs. Panelli should be here before long, and she gave a resigned sigh. She would obey her mother’s orders, she knew that, but she didn’t have to like it.

Then she felt it.

That same sudden sharpening of the senses. That same warning, uneasy feeling that something was about to happen. The same feeling she’d had before the dojo had been attacked by the T-Rads.

A vehicle was coming down the road, traveling in the opposite direction from the truck that had passed. It was still out of sight behind the trees, but Tia could hear the whine of the tires on the pavement. She focused on where it would appear, but just then Jenna called out from inside the house.

“Tia, Penny just called. There’s been a wreck on New Circle Road, and she’s stuck in traffic until it clears. Don’t stay out there too long.”

Tia turned her head, hoping this would allow her to be there with her mother when whatever was coming happened. “Okay Mom.”

By the time she looked back around, the vehicle on the road had passed. She caught the briefest flash of color as it went behind the trees at the end of the main driveway up to her uncle’s home. It struck her as odd that she couldn’t hear it going on down the road. A flash of red caught her eye, but it was lost in the tangle of brush at the end of the driveway. They’d been after the county for weeks to come and cut it, since it was on the county road’s right-of-way. Tia was still looking that direction, trying to decide if she was hearing voices or just the breeze in the trees, when a male canid came walking up the driveway and turned in toward the house. She was instantly on full alert, her paw dropping upon the bo laying beside her backpack. Even at this distance, she recognized a family resemblance.

The canid was alone, with Carl nowhere to be seen. Tia appraised him carefully as he continued in her direction. Not too tall, and a bit thin. Muscles showed strength, but she could see by the sweat shining in his fur that he wasn’t in great shape, stamina-wise. It was too late to duck into the house. The male had already seen her. She instead called out a warning to her mother.

“Mom, we’ve got company coming.”

Inside, Jenna felt every nerve in her body react to the tone and inflection in her daughter’s voice.

“Okay,” she said to herself. “So Plan A is down the drain. Time for Plan B.” She began to move, intent on protecting her daughter and home.

Outside, Frank Branson had stopped a few feet from the porch steps and was smiling an oily, unconvincing smile up at Tia. The young tigress had stood up, casually leaning on her bo and giving every indication she was going to hold her ground where she was.

“Mornin’ Pretty Kitty. My truck just broke down right at the end of your driveway. Can I use your phone ta call for a tow?”

Tia gave him a disdainful expression. “Don’t even try that tired old trick, Mr. Branson. You look too much like your son to fool anyone.”  

The faux-smile vanished from the canid’s face, to be replaced by a cruel-looking leer. “Ah, smart one, are ya? Little yellow Carl said you wasn’t no easy push. Well, I’m comin’ in anyhow. You need a lesson in manners toward males, and yer momma need a lesson for raising such an uppity little pussycat.”

Frank took a step forward, and immediately took a half-step back again. Tia had flipped her bo up and out and had stopped it about an inch from the canid’s forehead, right between his eyes. Frank went cross-eyed for a second, and then reached up with his left paw to grab the end of the weapon. All he got for his effort was a sharp *THWACK* across his knuckles. The canid let out a grunting snarl along with several expletives. Tia started to react as his right paw went toward the small of his back, but she heard her mother’s loud whisper from the door behind her.

“Sst! Tia, move into this corner to your left.”

Tia knew the swearing canid hadn’t heard the whisper. Porches like the one on their house tended to keep in all but the loudest sounds. She back-stepped quickly to her left, keeping her defensive posture as she stopped in the corner of the porch. Frank Branson had, after a couple of tugs, pulled the pistol out from his waistband and now brandished it at Tia.

“Yeah, you better back up, you little bitch! We’re going inside to have that lesson, or I’ll shoot you where you stand. I—”

The scruffy canid froze in mid-threat. He had just noticed that the front door was open. The storm door was open, too, but only a few inches. The interior lights were off, and the brightness outside and the reflection off the storm door glass made it impossible for him to see who was in the doorway. At that moment, it didn’t matter. What he did see chilled him to his core. The barrel of a shotgun protruded from the opening in the storm door, leveled directly at his chest. The loud *Ka-Chak* told him a shell had been chambered. The barrel didn’t shake, or vary one centimeter from its point of aim.

Frank Branson began to sweat profusely, the beads rising in his fur like dew on a cool morning. His paws began to shake as he saw, behind the shotgun, two very blue, very cold eyes in the darkness.

“DROP THE PISTOL!”

The voice was female, but it had the snap of a military command in it. Frank dropped the revolver into the small flower bed beside the steps and raised his paws, palms forward in supplication.

“Lady, fer God’s sake be careful with that thing. At this range it would—”

“Now the knife. MOVE!”

Again Frank complied, almost as though he couldn’t stop himself from doing so. The steady hold on the shotgun and the deadly calm eyes had blown away any thoughts of doing otherwise like smoke in a hurricane. Then a thought came to him, and he stood up straight and stopped shaking, even giving a nasty grin.

“Awright Lady, you win. I’m unarmed. Now I’m gonna walk back, get in my truck, and leave. You’re too much of a goody-goody to shoot an unarmed fur, especially in the back. But you mark me well, you an’ your little bitch-cat daughter, too. I’ll be waitin’ and watchin’, and when ya let yer guard down, I’ll get ya.”

Tia had noticed something while Frank was blustering, but she didn’t react or move a whisker, so as not to alert the canid. Frank turned to go, and collided immediately muzzle-first with a large grey fist. The fist was attached to an even larger grey wolf, with eyes that looked like twin pools of golden fire at the moment. The smaller canid’s head snapped upward, and he was actually lifted off his feet. He landed hard on his tail. After sitting there and shaking his head to clear it for a moment, he made a desperate lunge to the side, attempting to retrieve the pistol he’d been forced to drop.

There was a distinct crack! as several small bones in his paw broke. Tia had anticipated his move and had stepped up to bring her bo hard across his knuckles. He howled in pain, but only briefly as he found himself being lifted off the ground. He was now eye to eye with the very big, and very angry, grey wolf.

“Mister, I don’t take kindly to anyone trying to rape my fiancé or future stepdaughter. The Sheriff’s deputies are on their way, but before I leave you in their tender care, let me make myself very clear. My name is Jack Lazarus. If you ever get out of jail, remember to avoid anything to do with my name.  Otherwise it would be very, very bad for your health.”

Jack took the now-whimpering canid and set him in the yard. “There, this is far enough out to keep you from making another stupid move. I don’t advise trying anything. The young lady is quite adept with that staff.” He turned and addressed Tia as he walked up to her. “Watch him, Tia. If he moves or tries to get up, you have my permission to fracture his miserable skull.”

“Uh, yes sir!” Tia wasn’t quite sure if Jack had meant that, or if he was just saying it for Frank Branson’s benefit. In either case, she could hear sirens and see blue lights coming in the distance, so it wouldn’t be long.

Jack walked up the steps after stopping to exchange a brief hug with Tia on the way past. Jenna was now standing outside the doorway, the shotgun resting stock-first on her hip. Jack stopped a full step away from her and looked her up and down. He then shook his head and gave a low whistle.

“Gotta say, I really love a well-armed femme.”

Jenna broke into a grin as she clicked the safety of the shotgun on. She’d clear the shell out of the chamber before she put it away, but with the police coming, she didn’t want to be moving it around when they approached the house.

“A gal’s gotta defend herself. As usual, your timing is perfect. How did you know?”

“I got in early this morning and decided to come on out and see if you and whichever cub or cubs weren’t busy would like to go have lunch in Lexington. As I was coming down the road, about a half mile out, I met up with a young canid running toward me. He flagged me down and managed to tell me what was going on between gasps for breath. I called 911 and they headed the Sheriff’s deputies right out this way. If they’re already getting here, they must’ve been in the area. The young male is in my truck just past where the main driveway meets the road. That guy’s truck is across the driveway, ready to block anyone coming in, or make a quick getaway. I’ll give the lad a ride home once the police are done here and they hall that one away.”

“Hmmm,” Jenna mused, looking at Jack speculatively. “Must be his son, Carl. The vice-principal at Tia’s school said he’d changed. We really owe him one. If he hadn’t talked to one of his teachers, we wouldn’t have known to be prepared and waiting. Andrew is at his friend Sal’s. Tia was supposed to be at the Panelli’s, but Penny is stuck in traffic on New Circle Road. Still, looks like it was good that she was here. If he’d burst into the house on me, I would have shot him. Jason taught me how to shoot and handle a firearm properly, and went over and over with me when to shoot and when not to.”

Jenna gave an involuntary shudder at the thought of what it would have meant if she’d had to fire on the canid who was still sitting where Jack had put him, cradling his broken paw and rocking back and forth a little. He looked almost eager for the deputies to arrive. With a little shake of her head, she let the image go and turned her attention back to Jack.

“Okay, why so standoffish? You’ve usually swept me into one of your great hugs and given me a big kiss by now.”

Jack grinned and gave a shrug of his shoulders. “Hey, my mama didn’t raise a fool. When a lady is standing there with a twelve-gauge on her hip, you wait until you’re invited to try and kiss them.”

Jenna laughed, glad to break the tension a bit more. “Well then, consider yourself invited. C’mere, you.”

She reached out with her free arm and pulled the wolf into a passionate hug and kiss. Out in the yard, Tia was standing in a relaxed pose, her bo ready in her paws, when one set of deputies rounded the corner of the driveway at a full run, pistols drawn. A second car screeched to a halt out on the road, right by the fence line. Two more deputies popped open the doors and pointed their weapons at the fur sitting in the grass. There were several blinks of confusion from all four as the two coming up the driveway arrived. Tia held up a paw in greeting, and to try to indicate there was no longer any threat. She glanced back over her shoulder at her mother and future stepfather, and turned back with a smile on her muzzle.

“Hello. It’s okay, deputies. We’re all safe. I’m Tia O’Whitt, and this is my house. The two on the porch are my mom and her fiancé, Jack Lazarus. They’re a little busy right now. The guy in the yard is Frank Branson. He came here armed to try and attack my mother and I. His gun and knife are here in the flower bed.”

The two deputies who’d run into the yard visibly relaxed. The two at the car did likewise after a moment. One kept their weapon trained on the scruffy canid while the other one none-too-gently searched and pawcuffed Frank. The deputies outside the fence jumped across and held a brief discussion with the first two, and then they took charge of the canid to read him his rights before hustling him back along the way he had come in. The first two began examining the scene and collected the gun and knife in evidence bags. One, a female raccoon deputy with the name Fergus on the name plate of her uniform, stepped up to speak with Tia.

“Miss O’Whitt, we’ll need statements from you, your mother, and Mr. Lazarus, when they have a moment.”

Tia nodded. Seeing that her mother and Jack were still wrapped in each other’s arms, she shrugged to the femme. “They won’t be too long. He’s been out of town, and they always hold onto each other and talk for several minutes when they get together again.”

Tia was about to ask what would happen to Frank Branson, but she heard him muttering as the deputies led him away.

“Ow! Easy, I got a broke paw from that crazy femme. Hah, crazy felines, and a crazy wolf, to boot. I don’t care about no rights. Sure I did what they say. No use denyin’ it. I’m a three-time loser. I’m goin’ up fer life, that’s fer sure. Fine by me. When a little teenage pussycat beats the tar outta me, I need to go away for a long rest. Anything as long as I don’t have to be anywhere near them or that yellow pup of mine ever again.”

“If you tried to mess with Jack Lazarus’s kin, you’re darn right,” said one of the deputies. “He’s a very decent guy, but I’ve heard of him cowing a lot tougher than you. He won’t tolerate anybody messing with him and his.” Frank Branson gave an involuntary shudder and looked up on the porch at the mention of Jack’s name, and then he was gone toward an awaiting Sheriff’s car.

As they led him away, the other deputy looked back. The young tigress was standing, leaning in a relaxed way on the long staff she had used to defend herself, talking to the deputy who was collecting the physical evidence. Up on the porch, the big wolf was still wrapped up in the embrace of the tigress who was mother to the young one. Even while embracing the fur, she still held the shotgun she’d used to stop and disarm the perp he was taking in.

“Mister,” he commented to the miserable canid he was leading. “You had to be crazy to try and attack that group.”

As they arrived at the patrol car, Frank Branson nodded his head. “Deputy, I think you’re right.”

As they put him in the back seat, he gave a last rueful nod and repeated, “I think you’re right.”

 

End of Chapter 49

 

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