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 2003-2019 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 Rockwell, 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 and Jean LeBrun © Aslaug, from her Transitions stories. See them at her site, The Axe Shed, available from the links page. Aramis Dagaz is© his player and appears here with his permission.
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.
Epilogue
Mastifson sat in his cell, contemplating, as he did most of the time, just how wrong everything had gone. It was so completely unfair. He had won. He’d had O’Whitt right where he wanted him, and the cursed tiger had still somehow cheated death and Mastifson’s masterful plan! He’d underestimated the lioness, too. Beautiful, but much more of a threat than he’d given her credit for. It had been two months since the tragic events of that night, and his leg was still very sore and healing. Between the blows from O’Whitt and that blasted Doberman femme, the whole thing after he’d had the tiger at bay was a bit blurry.
Since then, his life had become an endless parade of arraignment hearings and cells. First in Lexington, then in Federal Court, and now in Ft. Leavenworth. He had enough resources to hire the best team of lawyers, and they’d convinced him to try for an insanity defense. Hearing voices and all that. Only thing was, since his setback at O’Whitt’s paws, the flames didn’t dance in his mind or speak to him anymore. Still, the lawyers were quietly confident they could spare him the death penalty, and possibly even get him assigned to a mental facility instead of a prison. From there, perhaps, after a time, he might even be allowed out. He had an interview with the prison psychiatrist in two days. He told no one, didn’t even really react to that idea, but he knew that if he did ever get out, it wouldn’t be any subtle plan this time. He’d find the hated tiger, walk up behind him, and shoot him point blank in the head.
Mastifson had a sour look on his muzzle, his thoughts dark when his cellmates returned. They had been in the exercise yard, but with his injuries, he’d been allowed to stay in his cell. It was about the only peace and quiet he got, with three cellmates, all of whom were in on murder charges. The part of the prison he was in was a medium-security facility, so things weren’t quite as stringent as they could be. The three jostled and banged around as they settled in. Mastifson ignored them as he usually did.
The Rottweiler was still brooding when he noticed his cellmates had gone quiet. He looked up to see the large lapine buck called Sarge standing in front of him. He noticed his other two fellow prisoners standing with their backs to them facing out, blocking any view into the cell. Mastifson frowned.
“What do you want, Sarge?”
The large rabbit gave him a rather sardonic grin. “Got a message for ya. Come all th’ way from outside.”
The canid looked him up and down and then gave a smirk. “What’s the plan? Beat me up? Stab me? Add more to your time here? Please, tell me the message and be done.”
The lapine looked at him evenly for a moment, and then shrugged. “Suit y’self.”
The movement was subtle and swift. Mastifson felt a jab in his shoulder. He never saw the needle. His eyes went wide, and he looked to where he’d felt the jab. There was nothing there he could see. Sarge and his other cellmates had moved to common relaxed poses on their bunks, but all were watching him.
“That,” Sarge said with a feral grin. “That was for Daniel.”
Mastifson began to feel dizzy. He tried to stand. The edges were going dark, starting to close in. As he faded from consciousness, one question ran through his mind.
“Who the Hell is Daniel?”
# # #
Alex was working on the flight data they would need for a trip to Colorado he and Corrie were planning. It had been two months since the attack on them by Jefferson Mastifson. After the initial depositions, they’d observed the Rottweiler’s trip through the legal system from a distance. They had managed to put it mostly behind them and thought about it less and less. Kentiger was thriving with the addition of a third G-IV, five more pilots to fill out the schedule, and an additional admin assistant to aid Loni in keeping it all running. Helipro had added another Jetranger and another pilot. Rhapsody Simms was a redheaded white feline, civilian-trained, originally from Manchester, England, and provided a lively addition to the Angels.
Alex had been out to Edwards for the month of July to train up on the F-22, and would soon begin training the Tigerkahts on the new aircraft.
Corrie had been busy not only with the business, but also with teaching Tia to fly rotorcraft. The young tigress was a quick study, and Corrie had taken her to Louisville for her check ride two weeks back. All in all, things in both their lives were settling into a steady routine. The trip to Colorado was planned just to keep things from becoming too routine.
While Alex was working on the flight data, Corrie had retrieved the day’s newspaper and sat down to read. The headlines were the usual run of Lexington crime news, political dross, and local interest stories. When she turned to page two, a headline and story there caught her by surprise. She began to read out loud, so Alex could hear.
“Accused Serial Killer with Local Ties Dies in Prison.”
Alex looked up and fixed his eyes on his lovely bride. He arched an eyebrow.
“What does it say, Love?”
The lioness read on. “Jefferson Mastifson the Third, accused serial killer and former local FAA official, was found dead in his cell today at the Federal Prison in Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. Mastifson, a purebred Rottweiler, was the nephew of famed U. S. Air Force fighter pilot Lieutenant General Lance Mastifson. A retired fighter pilot himself, Mastifson stood accused of murdering four random furs in four different cities over a four-month period. Locally he was accused of illegal possession of drugs and drug paraphernalia, attempted murder, assault, assault of a police officer, resisting arrest, and criminal trespass. He was due to go on trial on Federal charges next month, following results of a psychiatric evaluation. The Rottweiler was found in his cell dead of an apparent drug overdose. Details are not yet available, and an investigation is underway. Anonymous sources say Mastifson had several enemies in the prison population. Some there because of him, some were associated with his victims.”
Corrie finished, looking a bit pensive. When it had happened, there had been the usual rush of news coverage, but it had quickly died out. Since then, other than an occasional blurb in the news when there’d been a hearing, the two felids had tried their best to put the whole thing behind them.
“Luv, I know we’re supposed to forgive, but I find it hard to come up with any sympathy for him.”
Alex gave a sigh. “I know, same here. Still, he was somebody’s relative, somebody’s friend. My sympathy goes to them. I think I prefer to let him go into the past and focus on the good things going on. Us. Tia getting her helicopter rating and going to the Academy. Jack and Jenna. Kath and Rich. Andrew getting his Black belt. Both businesses are thriving. I just feel so blessed. I can’t find any sympathy for Mastifson, but neither can I find any ire. He brought all of it upon himself. I guess I just feel…neutral. He can no longer hurt me or mine. He’s gone. Spending any more thought or emotion on him is…useless.”
Corrie got up and walked over to him. She bent down and put her arms around his neck, affording him a wonderful view. She leaned in and nipped lightly at his ear.
“I can think of much bettah things to spend time and energy on, can’t you?” she purred in his ear.
As he lifted his paws to her and his lips sought hers, he murmured, “Absolutely, Love. Absolutely.”
End of Fire On High
Part One
*wink*