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 2003-2018 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.

Chapter 122

Where Were We?

It was now early May, and Aramis and Diana were holding on to their surveillance of Jefferson Mastifson by the skin of their teeth. The FISA judge had warned AFOSI that unless they could prove some new activity or connection with the Shadow murders to justify it, that would be the last renewal of the warrant. As it stood, their authority to watch the Rotten Rotty ran out the end of May.

Mastifson had flown almost every weekend but hadn’t gone to the adult theaters. He had bar and club hopped, found one-night stands, and then flown home. The BAU said he’d gone dormant. With Col. O’Whitt out of the country, the Rottweiler had stopped his more suspicious activities. With the war, most of Aramis’ section had deployed overseas. Because of several active cases, including Mastifson’s, both Aramis and his supervisor, Chief Agent Perez, had remained stateside. If something didn’t change soon, it would have all been for naught.

Now, though, Col. O’Whitt had returned. Injured and with his leg in a cast, he’d been almost a recluse to anyone but family, close friends, and his fiancée. He’d just now gotten the cast off and would shortly be returning to work. The report said he’d walk with a cane at times. The press hadn’t been told anything about it since the report he’d returned to friendly lines after being MIA for most of a day. The tiger hadn’t driven in to work since his return, so the agents weren’t sure if Mastifson knew of his return yet.

“Today will tell,” Aramis said as he put his cell phone away. Diana looked up questioningly from the laptop she was working on as they sat doing the daily surveillance work on Mastifson.

“That was Colonel O’Whitt. He called to give me a heads up that he’d been cleared to drive, so he’d be driving in to work today. His fiancée is riding in with him to make sure he’s okay.”

Diana nodded. The lioness had been flying the white and black helicopter back and forth to work each day, weather permitting, and checking on and caring for the tiger each evening before driving herself home. The whole thing had become routine now.

“The latest from the BAU, which I just got in an email, says that with Colonel O’Whitt back, Mastifson will either go back to where he left off, or remain dormant as it’s been so long he no longer has the urge. I suppose you’re right, we’ll see soon enough. Mastifson should have found out by this weekend.”

Aramis gave a single nod of agreement. “He should. Is your Baron ready? This could be an interesting weekend.”

Diana grinned at him. “Way ahead of you. If Mastifson hunts this weekend, he’ll also be the hunted.”

#   #   #

“Are you ready, Luv?” Corrie asked. Alex had just the day before been cleared to drive again. He’d returned from Iraq as quietly as possible, with his left leg in a cast from upper thigh to mid-calf. The dislocation of his knee in an awkward, wind swept parachute landing amid refinery pipes after ejecting from his damaged F-15 had not been crippling. The damage from having to try to walk and fight on it, and the repeated blows, had nearly been. It would forever be at a slightly odd angle and move very stiffly. Enough for the flight surgeon to declare him unfit to fly or remain on active or reserve duty. Funny thing was, Lockheed Martin had been more than happy to have him as a civilian contractor to help the Tigerkahts transition from their F-15C’s to the F-22. He should be sufficiently recovered from both his injuries and his honeymoon to go to Edwards in July to begin learning the new aircraft, so he could help teach both technical skills and tactics to the transitioning pilots.

“Very funny,” he’d told Scatcat when signing the paperwork. “It takes getting shot down and thrown off flying status to finally get to Edwards.” Scatcat had only shaken his head.

This morning, for the first time since he departed for Langley, Alex was driving in to Kentiger for a day at work. Corrie was coming along to make sure he was okay. The lioness had been loath to let him out of her sight except when she went home at night since he’d been sent home.

“I’m fine, Love. Let’s go,” Alex replied. He leaned on his cane a bit, as the cool morning air made his knee a bit stiffer. He’d chosen a good, solid cherry wood cane, with a metal tip and a solid brass ball for a handle. It would serve him well as both a cane and a defensive weapon if the need arose.

They made their way out and got in Alex’s truck. Corrie had been concerned the tiger might have trouble getting in, but he maneuvered into the driver’s seat with no problem. After they got their belts on, Alex started the engine and they pulled out and headed for Lexington. The drive went routinely, with morning traffic causing the usual slowdowns. Corrie watched Alex like a hawk, but he drove as he always had. When they pulled in to Kentiger, they were surprised to see a bevy of TV and Press reporters. Billy was standing by the door not looking very happy, but also not throwing them off the lot, either.

“Luv,” Corrie advised. “If you don’t want to talk to them drive on down to Helipro and hang out until they go away.”

Alex shrugged. “They’d either track me down there or lay in wait here causing a big disruption. Might as well see what the fuss is and face it head on.”

He parked the truck and got out, leaning on his cane. Corrie barely got out before the group of reporters and camerafurs pushed forward, effectively blocking her on that side of the truck. She growled menacingly, but other than a nervous look from the camerafur closest to her, the rest were making too much ruckus to hear. The still cameras flashed and whirred as the lights on the video cameras made Alex’s fur stand out in stark black and white, his ice blue eyes looking downright glacial. The first one in was Janie Barrett.

“We’re here today with Colonel Alex O’Whitt, who is just returning to work after his tour in Iraq,” she intro’d. “He was shot down, injured, and has been decorated for his actions there. We’re here to get his take on the war.”

The femme turned and stuck her microphone under Alex’s nose. If Corrie could have reached her, she’d have torn into the femme, but the press of the Press was too thick. Alex just calmly pushed the mic down lower as the reporter rattled off her question.

“Colonel O’Whitt, what are your feelings on the war in Iraq? Do you think it’s justified?”

Alex smiled rather coldly. “Hello Janie, nice to see you still at it. It isn’t for me to decide that. The politicians that are elected by the people decide. I’ve been a little busy healing to pay much attention.”

Janie tried for more, but other reporters elbowed her out of the way. If she hadn’t been so concerned for Alex, Corrie would have laughed.

The questions came in fast, but Alex showed he wasn’t incapacitated by any stretch of the imagination.

“Colonel O’Whitt, how badly were you injured?”

“A badly dislocated knee, to the point I use a cane, and I’m no longer medically qualified to fly for the Air Force. I’m fine to fly as a civilian, so that will not affect operations here at Kentiger. Otherwise multiple bumps and bruises, and a strained back from the ejection.”

“Colonel, you were MIA for most of a day. Were you captured?”

“I was, but the unit that captured me was mostly cut off and couldn’t send me anywhere. They left me where I was when they withdrew. I was able to walk to friendly lines from there.”

“Colonel, what are your plans now?”

Alex now smiled in earnest. “I’m retired from the Air Force, including the Reserves. I plan to continue to work to make Kentiger a success and get on with my life.”

Corrie and Billy shouldered their way in to Alex and, brushing aside any more questions, got he and themselves into the building. They shut the door on the outside clamor, and all took a deep breath. Alex leaned on the counter a moment as Billy apologized.

“Sorry Alex, Corrie. They showed up about an hour ago and insisted on covering you returning to work. No telling what the stories will be like when they get done with them.”

Alex grinned and gave a half-shrug. “Can’t be helped, I guess. Anything else going on?”

Billy had been keeping Alex apprised of the business, including how their six new pilots were doing. The three that had been called up for the war had all returned safely, and the continued nervousness about airline travel meant that Kentiger was still booming. Loni picked a different tack, though.

“No, it’s been quiet. We haven’t heard anything from Mastifson. Welcome back, Alex.”

The lynx femme took the unusual for her step of standing, walking around the counter, and hugging the tiger soundly. She placed a kiss on his cheek, then turned and hugged Corrie, too.

“I’m so glad you got him back,” she murmured, a tear wisping in the corner of her eye. She then went back and sat down at her desk.

Alex and Corrie both smiled warmly at her. After a moment, Corrie’s smile turned to a frown.

“Are we going to have to deal with those dunny flies crowding around here every time something happens in the war?”

“Probably not,” Billy answered. “The war, the controversy over it, Alex returning as a wounded vet, that’s big news right now. This time next week they’ll have moved on to the next big story.” He sounded as though he’d been there before.

“Wish we had a tunnel between here and Helipro. I don’t want to talk to them right now.” Corrie gave a snort, sounding thoroughly disgusted.

“Same offer you made me goes for here. Hang out until they leave,” Alex offered.

“Yeah, they’ll all be gone in an hour or so,” Billy advised. “They have deadlines to meet and can’t hang around too long. Kath can handle things until then. She’ll call if anything unusual comes up.”

Corrie nodded, kissed Alex, and went over into the pilot’s lounge to wait. Alex and Billy made their way to their offices to begin the day’s work. Loni kept an ear out to make sure the reporters stayed outside.

#   #   #

Jefferson Mastifson was on his way back from lunch. He’d come in the door and was passing the ramp fur’s break room when he heard the television there giving the local news. The story he heard stopped him in his tracks.

Colonel Alex O’Whitt, co-owner of Kentiger Executive Air Service based here at Lexington’s Bluegrass Airport, returned to work today after convalescing from injuries he received when he was shot down by a surface-to-air missile in Iraq. Colonel O’Whitt’s Eff-Fifteen was hit while he was protecting a squadron mate whose plane had malfunctioned. The Colonel’s combat record indicates eight confirmed air-to-air combat victories. He has received the Purple Heart, Two Air Force Crosses for Valor, and various other medals. The Colonel’s injuries have forced his retirement from military flying but he retains all his civilian licenses and ratings. When asked how he felt, the Colonel replied, “It’s good to be home.”

Mastifson made his way on up to his office and sat down, feeling very conflicted. O’Whitt was alive! The word had spread like wildfire when he’d gone missing. The Rottweiler had secretly grinned and almost danced a jig. No other word had gone around that he’d heard until today. He’d again made the mistake of thinking the tiger gone, of not keeping up with the news. He was constantly well ahead in his work and had even gotten an award for efficiency. He now nearly despised it after hearing of O’Whitt being awarded medals. But the tiger was out of military flying. His heroics had cost him dearly.

“Wasn’t that what I wanted?” the Rottweiler asked himself. The old flames, back now brighter than ever in his mind, danced and sputtered.

“Nooo!” they hissed. “Dead iss what I want him!”

Mastifson had not hunted the drug-riddled low-end streets of any city the whole time O’Whitt had been gone. Without further debate, he began to consider what city he’d hunt his next target in. He’d decided early on that he wouldn’t hunt the same city twice, so as not to fall into a trackable pattern. The weather was warmer, and the more Northern cities like Indianapolis or Cincinnati came to mind. He rejected Cinci, as his FAA duties had him there on a regular basis. Indy was a possibility. So was Pittsburgh. He pulled out his personal laptop and began to do research.

 Come the weekend, he was hunting again.

#   #   #

“Tia!” Jenna called. “Package for you. It’s on the living room table.”

Tia had just walked in the door from school, with Andrew right behind her. With his martial arts training, he was no longer a chubby cubby. Rapidly heading toward six feet tall, he was fast developing his father’s stockiness. He snatched up the box and read the label, mostly to tease his sister.

“Top Flight Leathers? Oooh!”

He’d nearly added “kinky,” but his mom was within earshot. Tia grabbed it out of his paws and gave him a smirk. She read the label and asked her mother about it.

“Mom, I didn’t order anything from here. Do you know what this is?”

“No idea, Sweetie,” Jenna answered as she came in from the kitchen. “The name and address are correct, and it has a full return address. It isn’t overly heavy, and it isn’t ticking or leaking, so it should be safe.”

Tia nodded and began to open it. “Oh, my cap and gown came in today. I have them in the car and I’ll bring them in, so I can match up my Valedictorian tab and—”

The young tigress stopped. The box contained a regulation USAF A2 leather flight jacket. Lifting it out, she noted it was her size. As the scent of new leather permeated the air, Tia looked in the box and found a printed invoice and note. She read it aloud.

“Congratulations on the purchase of this high-quality leather MILSPEC regulation A2 flight jacket made in the U.S.A. Oh, there’s a note at the bottom. This jacket was purchased by Alex O’Whitt. Tia, congratulations. You can’t wear the official one yet but may this one serve you well until then. It’ll be a bit stiff, but with wear and time it’ll fit you like a glove. May you have many adventures in it. Uncle Alex.”

Tia hugged the jacket to her, tears threatening to roll down her cheekfur. Without another word she bolted toward the back door, intent on waiting for Alex to get home. Jenna grinned and looked at Andrew.

“He doesn’t spoil her at all, does he?”

Andrew grinned in return. “Only a lot, Mom. It’s okay, she’s a good big sis, and she deserves it.”

Jenna looked at Andrew closely. “Who are you and what have you done with my son?”

The young tiger laughed. Jenna was taken aback at the deep timbre that came with it. She sat down a minute. Tia would graduate high school at the end of the month. She was still over a year from starting at the Air Force Academy, as long as she was accepted. Andrew would start high school next Fall as a Freshman. Her children were rapidly growing up. She wished Jason were here to see it. She loved Jack with all her heart, and he did a wonderful job as surrogate father, but it still hurt sometimes that Jason missed so much.

“Mom, you okay?” Andrew asked.

She looked up at him and smiled. Rather than get melancholy, she squared her shoulders. Jack would be home soon, and things were ready for them to start dinner.

“I’m fine. Now shoo, I’m sure you have homework.”

He gave her a lopsided grin and headed for his room. With a sigh, she headed for the kitchen.

#   #   #

“I’m glad there were no reporters around when we left to come home,” Corrie avowed as Alex drove along I-64 East of Lexington. They still had about ten minutes of interstate before their exit.

“Oh dear kittens me too!” Alex agreed. “The leg did fine, and my back is pretty much healed up after the ejection. I might limp a little from time to time, but even that has been better with me moving around on it more.”

Corrie looked over at him a bit wistfully. “You know, you nearly scared me to death. I flat fell out when those two officers told us you were missing. It took Billy and Kath a good ten minutes to bring me round. I’d been having dreams aftah you left, of losing you. They were full of fiah and explosions.”

Alex nodded solemnly. The lioness hadn’t said much about that until now, except that she’d missed him terribly and thanked God he came home mostly in one piece.

“I’m sorry I worried you,” he said sincerely. “It wasn’t intentional.”

She nodded, managing a bit of a smile. “I know. In a way this is a blessing. The Air Force won’t be taking you away to war anymore. I know, you’re going to Edwards as a civilian in July, but that’s not the same as someone shooting at you.”

“That’s true,” Alex agreed, and then took on a pensive look. “Luv, I haven’t told you, or anyone here at home, about what happened after I was shot down. The Air Force debriefed me on it and reviewed it and determined I was justified. I…I killed a fur. With my bare paws. While I was captured. He was attempting to beat me to death. The furs he commanded didn’t like him, and he’d boasted he would take me out bare-pawed to prove his superiority and keep their fear of him. They knew they were in a bad spot, and wanted to withdraw, but he insisted they stay. I’d already injured my leg landing after the ejection, and he injured it further. He figured I’d be an easy target and couldn’t fight back. It came down to him or me. He was…er, wrong.”

Corrie was looking at him wide-eyed. She’d sparred and trained with him, and knew he was good, but she’d never realized he might be able to do something like that. He wasn’t sure exactly what her reaction would be, but he wanted no secrets between them. Her eyes had gone back to normal, and she gave a definitive nod as they exited the interstate.

“Bettah that poor bloke than you. I’m proud of who you are, and what you did and do. Not that you killed someone. That’s nothing to be proud of, but that you came home to me. That you always do what’s needed to keep me, your family, your friends, and this country safe. I love you, Alex.”

Alex smiled, relieved. “I love you too, Corrie.”

The conversation was much less heavy as they drove on toward Alex’s home. As they pulled up the driveway they saw Tia wearing a bright brown brand-new flight jacket and nearly jumping up and down on the front step.

“Oh! It came!” Corrie exclaimed. Alex grinned. The lioness had been in on ordering it for Tia’s graduation gift. Alex parked, and he and Corrie barely got out and to the front of the truck when Tia barreled in at near full speed. They both managed to catch her in a three-way hug.

“ICE! CORRIE! THANK YOU! Thank You! thank you!”

Alex grinned. “I think she likes it.”

Corrie shrugged. “Nah, we should send it back.”

Tia looked horrified for a second, and then grinned as she realized Corrie was teasing with her. Alex laughed, fetched his cane from the truck, and went on toward the house, speaking as he went.

“Tia, wear it well, which I know you will. Not while you’re at the Academy, though. Your fellow cadets wouldn’t take it very well, and once you start there, it becomes a uniform item not authorized for wear unless you’re on flight status.”

Tia nodded as she walked beside Corrie. “I understand. But still, my own leather flight jacket, wow!”

They all went into Alex’s house, with Tia chatting away excitedly about her coming graduation.

To Alex, it was very good to be home.

#   #   #

It was Sunday morning at just past 2 A.M. Mastifson grinned evilly in his masks as he watched the light leave the eyes of his victim. The big lion drooled out his last exhale and lay still. This was the largest, strongest fur the Rottweiler had ever attempted. The fur had stood a solid six foot six inches and weighed in at around two sixty. Mastifson had watched him as he worked as bodyguard over a street drug dealer. The dealer’s supply all sold, the two had parted company and gone opposite ways. The Rottweiler quickly paralleled the lion’s course and got out ahead of the casually strolling felid. He’d cut through an alley and delayed his spray until it had gone directly into the lion’s face.

Fortunately for Mastifson, the spray had obscured the felid’s vision, because it took the big fur the full twenty seconds plus to go down. The Rottweiler couldn’t lift him, so he’d had to carefully drag the fur into the alley. It was all paved, so there were no drag marks on the ground. He’d put the deadly injection under the lion’s arm. The fur had actually started to come around and begin to struggle a bit before the lethal dose took effect. Mastifson had choked him back down and pried open his eyes to watch as the terror gave way to dull-eyed death.

When it was done, he’d stood and surveyed the area, making sure he left no traces or marks behind. He then turned and walked back down the alley. Once on the street at the other end, he resumed his old fur shuffle back toward where his rental car was parked. With the target he’d found, he was glad he’d chosen Pittsburgh as his first hunt since O’Whitt’s return. This was the closest in size and strength to what he expected the tiger to be like.

Back in the alley a petite shape detached itself from the shadows of a doorway. The mouse femme now rushed forward and fell on the motionless form, wailing in grief. The 911 operator could still be heard calling out to her on the cell phone now dropped beside her.

“Maria! Maria are you still there? The units are three minutes out. Maria, answer me!”

The bereft femme only wailed louder.

“Daniel! Oh, Daniel NO! I was too scared! I couldn’t stop him! Oh Daniel!”

The blare of sirens told the operator the police and ambulance units were nearby. From the sound of it, they were too late.

 

 

End of Chapter 122

 

Home / Chapter Index / Chapter 121 / "Only The Young" / Chapter 123