Fox Academy - The New Breed
Chapter 4 - Meanwhile, Back at the Farm

Vikki stood on the edge of the Academy's sports field in the chilly morning air. Across the street a group of Revenue Canada tax auditors gathered for their morning jogging club, each wearing identical 'I am NOT a Secret Agent' sweatshirts. Vikki wore only a plain grey t-shirt and red shorts and the chilly air gave her goose bumps. The decision to move morning exercises outdoors had come as a surprise and she hadn't had time to get something warmer from her locker, so she stood with her arms across her chest, hopping from foot to foot and blowing out white mist with each exhalation.

She was one of the few candidates that had been accepted as a student at the Foreign Operations eXecutive Academy this year, and she should be proud of that; the FOX Academy itself had only been a myth when she first entered law enforcement. She thought back over the last few months, and tried to pinpoint were everything had started to go wrong.

* * * * * * * *

Vikki first dreamed of joining Toronto's Metro Police Force, like her seven older brothers before her had, but was quickly disillusioned. She was a vixen in a profession dominated by male canines, larger breeds like Shepherds, Rottweilers, Dobermans and Wolves. Even the clique of foxes in the department was resentful of a female trying to be a street cop. So she applied for criminal and tactical analytical courses at the Canadian Police College and transferred to the Intelligence Division. After a year and the successful take down of a gang of Chinese Crested drug runners her supervisor recommended her to the Ontario Provincial Police Anti-Gang Division. There she provided the OPP Biker Squad with some badly needed intelligence expertise, and they trained her to work in the field. Vikki thought that she had finally found a home.

Two years later she had to move on. After busting a clubhouse and sweeping it for booby traps, the intelligence squad would be sent in to process any documents, electronic files and weapons found on the site. This time the local commander had not set up a proper cordon and one of the club bimbos had captured the squad's entry on her cell phone camera. That evening Vikki's image had been posted on YouTube, taller than most foxes, slim and elegant with vibrant red fur, dressed in an OPP jumpsuit and combat boots. Her days as a field operative in criminal intelligence were over.

Faced with becoming a desk analyst Vikki applied to several other agencies. The RCMP, the famous Mounties, were interested, but were not hiring at that time. The Canadian Security and Intelligence Service, CSIS, demanded a university degree; Vikki had only a college certificate. Other agencies were looking for analysts only, no fieldwork involved. She was seriously considering moving to the United States when an application form arrived in the mail one day.

With no return address and nothing but 'Occupant' for an address she almost threw the letter out, then she noticed the watermark on the envelope; a stylized fox head, superimposed on the letters 'FOX'. Curious, and fairly certain that it was too light to be a letter bomb from her biker fans, she opened it and took out the one-page application.

The form was simple. Part one was for personal information and it was already filled in - name: Vikki Beausoleil, age: 25, species: fox, sex: female, distinguishing marks: 1 cm scar on left breast (Vikki blushed, a piercing had gone wrong back in high school). Part two was a simple question: 'Why do you want to join the secret service?' followed by a number of blank lines for the answer. Part three said 'If you wish this application to be processed, please confirm that the personal information in part 1 is correct. Answer the question in part 2, do not attach additional sheets. When you are satisfied with your answer sign above your name (below) and place this letter in the return envelope provided. Drop the envelope in any Canada Post mailbox. Exposing this letter to light has begun a process that will reduce it to powder very soon, so please do not delay. Only successful applicants will be contacted.' 

Was this a joke?

Vikki examined the original envelope again. The Fox head and letters had disappeared. White dust stuck to her fingers and she realized that the envelope was disintegrating in her hands. The first envelope had developed a few ragged holes, so she tore it off to free the return envelope. As far as she could tell it was perfectly blank, would exposure to the light eventually bring out a return address? If so what could learn from it? How much time did she have before the application disintegrated also?

Quickly she grabbed the application and stared at the question 'Why do want to join the secret service?' It was a line she knew from an old Monty Python sketch. She had forgotten whether the applicant in the sketch was successful or not. Vikki looked at the application again. Picked up a pen, put it down, picked it up and almost wrote something. Finally she shrugged and wrote 'Because I need to.' in the middle of the blank space. She sealed up the application before she could change her mind and headed out the door.

* * * * * * * *

Two weeks later Vikki's supervisor told her that she was being sent to the Police College in Ottawa on secondment while they figured out what to do with her. She closed up her apartment, packed two suitcases with clothes for a mix of conditions and boarded the train to Ottawa. At the Ottawa station she was surprised to find a Rat holding a sign with her name on it; normally she just took a taxi to the college and checked into her room herself. The rat took her bags and put them in the trunk of a large black sedan, then held the back door open for her. Once inside and away from the train station the rat introduced himself as Dr Gordon, and welcomed her to the FOX Academy.

The Foreign Operations eXecutive! It had been a whisper of a rumour of a legend in the police services. The ultra-secret agency formed to fill the gap between the activities of the RCMP, CSIS and the army's JTF-2. Having been to Ottawa for several courses and conferences in the past Vikki wondered which of the government complexes housed the reclusive agency. Tunney's Pasture? Booth Street? The Federal Study Centre on Heron Road? She was shocked when it turned out to be the Central Experimental Farm. Dr Gordon brought her into a red brick building that turned out to be the laboratories and interrogation section, and the induction process began.

Psychological tests, aptitude tests, physical exams, periods where one of the lab rats would simply sit and stare at her for hours. Questions about her childhood, her family, her friends, her lovers. A gruff Rottweiler came with a thick file and proceeded to read off every sin from her past. Stealing a lunch from Sally Smith in grade three. Spitting on Daniel Newman in grade 5, Daniel was Jewish, did she hate Jews? No, she didn't hate Jews, at least not Daniel. Slapping Nancy Cartwright for asking Daniel Newman to the dance when she knew Vikki was going to ask him. Cheating on a French essay in high school. Getting drunk after graduating from the police academy and throwing up in the fountain at Toronto City Hall. How the hell did they know about that? Screwing her partner, a married Dachshund, after spending 58 hours without sleep on a stakeout with him. Did she feel guilty about that? Yes. Did she regret it? Yes. Would she do it again? How the hell would she know?

"Just who keeps all these records?" She asked at one point.

"We do." He answered.

After a week in isolation she was moved to a room in a dormitory. Evidently she had passed the tests. The next morning she was woken at 5 am and assembled along with 19 other 'candidates' in the parking lot, welcomed to the Academy and taken for a run by a crazed tobacco-chewing Doberman named 'Rusty' until one by one they dropped by the roadside, cramped, vomiting and exhausted. Four sleepless days of gruelling physical and mental training followed.

The candidates were asked each morning if they wanted to see the doctor, and the second morning two did. Vikki never saw them again. The third morning one of the females complained that the schedule was interfering with her religious observances. She was offered an interview with the school padre, and disappeared. Two students fell asleep and couldn't get up on the third night. They were gone when the remaining 15 got back. The fourth morning Rusty called one student out and told him his mother was dying; the Academy financial officer came by at 10 am and called out another. Neither came back.

At 8 pm on the fourth night a mature yellow-coated fox, larger than any fox Vikki had ever seen, came to the dorm and introduced himself as Gold, the Chief of Staff. Did his fur show hints of highlights? When he told them that they could sleep until 8 am the next day the 13 survivors only glared at him suspiciously.

Laughing, Gold told them "That is an order. You are on forced rest. Anyone still awake in one hour will be given a drug to help them sleep, but it's better if you can get to sleep on your own. First lesson: you need to learn to sleep when you can so that you can stay awake when you need to. See you all tomorrow."

* * * * * * * *

The real training began in earnest the next day. They reviewed intelligence doctrine for those with a security background, and security theory for those who didn’t. Rusty taught unarmed combat and weapons skills, Dr. Gordon taught the psychology of intelligence and Kinaesthetic Interviewing techniques, how to read body language. An expert from another agency taught them how to fake the appropriate body language to defeat Kinaesthetic Interviewing techniques and how to control their body's natural reactions to stress in order to defeat polygraphs, amongst other useful purposes.

The pace was brutal, the staff unforgiving and their numbers dwindled steadily throughout the course. A vixen that continuously delayed the classes by asking for explanations of explanations was invited to leave in the third week. Another student, known for his brilliant analysis of tactical situations, could not get his mind around the art of map reading and compass use, and left in the fourth week. Vikki wondered what method they used to maintain security with so many failures being sent away. Did they drug them into amnesia, threaten them or, as the rumour had it, eliminate them?

They were taught sabotage techniques and how to build bombs. They were taught how to detect sabotage and defuse bombs. Days and nights were spent in the field learning how to move unseen. They were brought into a room blindfolded and then given 10 seconds to look around. Afterwards they had to name everything in the room and describe where it was in relation to everything else. When they had mastered that they were given less and less time to look, and the test was to find relevant articles in the room while blindfolded and tied up.
  
The course was competitive, in that the best student would likely get the best post-graduate assignments, but cooperation was necessary and expected. Group activities were common and once you showed that you could get along with someone you usually didn't get them as a partner again. One student was publicly disciplined for leaving the area with the only key to the classroom, which prevented the others from studying; another was dismissed for deliberately passing incorrect information to another team.

They learned about codes, about drops, about hand-offs. They studied culture, accents, religion. What countries were based on British common law, which on French Civil law, which used neither and which counterintelligence agencies were above their country's laws. They learned how to blend in, when to stick out and how to get around.

"Anyone who can get across Ottawa in mid-day without passing through the downtown transit hub can comfortably use the transportation system in any major foreign city." Their instructor told them. "The instructions in front of you contain maps of the system, schedules and a list of places to pass by within certain time windows. You travel in teams of two, which have been assigned I believe? Yes, good. You have tonight to plan your trip. Take as much time as you want or need. Use whatever route you want so long as it meets your critical timings; there is only one rule" he warned, "you are not allowed to ask anyone for help or directions during the trip."

The exercise turned out to be harder than it seemed, but Vikki had the foresight to check the city's traffic advisory site before they left, so her team had alternate routes around problem areas ready. One male, faced with the closure of a major route, decided to violate the one rule and ask a transport inspector for assistance. The day after the exercise his seat was empty.

The instructor began the day with an explanation. "In case you haven't figured it out, you ARE being watched, and not just by us. The RCMP counter-intelligence teams use the students, instructors and regular agents alike as training aids. Every time we set foot outside of the Academy we are fair game for their watchers, and they love catching us out. They may not be there every time, but you will never be certain when they are, they are that good. Make an honest mistake and get caught now and you'll learn a valuable lesson."

He moved down the aisle to stand beside the empty desk.

"Break the rules and get caught and you're done." With a flick of his foot he sent the chair crashing into the wall, driving home the lesson.

  * * * * * * * *

And so it had continued until there were only five students left.

Bill 'Professor' Hanlan was a Grey Fox over from Immigration who could usually be found sitting up in one of the experimental farm's many trees studying. He aced every theory exam and usually came up with the most innovative solutions on the problem solving exercises, but faced a steep learning curve on the practical side. Randy 'just Randy' O'Neil, was an ex-Canadian Forces Red Fox with a measure of good looks and physical ease that matched his inflated ego. He did well on the field exercises and in the tactical scenarios but tended to stick to the obvious solutions in the problem solving exercises. He had a standing invitation to every female he met to join him in bed, or the closet, under the worktable, wherever. Delores 'Baby Doll' Johnson was a Swift Fox from the Calgary Police with an usually large bust and the habit of leaning over anyone sitting down while talking to them. This meant addressing Delores' impressive cleavage; males in particular were often rendered senseless in the process. Dr Gordon felt that she had a future in Human Intelligence, the art of elicitation. Hu Lianmeng, 'Genghis', was a Corsac Fox from CSIS, whose parents had emigrated from Mongolia. Yellowish-brown with silver highlights, he was already an expert on Asian culture and could speak seven languages.

Vikki didn't have a public nickname, although someone had signed her into the building once as V. 'I wanna be an espionage agent' Beausoleil. And it was true; she wanted this so badly that it made her pant with anticipation before each test, and dizzy with worry while they waited for the marks to be issued, and possibly for the axe to fall. She was her own harshest critic and suspected that the others thought of her as a stuck-up bitch.

But yesterday, was it only yesterday? Yesterday things had started to go wrong, although there had been indications earlier. A little over two weeks ago Vikki had sensed a change in the instructors' attitudes. Formerly upbeat and enthusiastic, they now seemed to be just going through the motions, like it didn't matter anymore. In the cafeteria she could feel eyes on her and when she turned she would catch some of the staff whispering together and nodding in their direction. Classes were cancelled without explanation; an exam rescheduled for an undetermined date. Then, yesterday the bomb had dropped.

"There's a change in the schedule for tomorrow." Randy, the current senior student, had reported to the others. "We have floor hockey against the Headquarters staff from 0800 to 0900 in the gym."

'Headquarters staff' was how the instructors referred to the senior agents that ran the operational side of the Academy. Although the students had glimpsed other foxes in the halls and cafeteria  they had not formally met any, except for the Chief of Staff.

That morning's instructor, a leopard from Administration who was there to coach them in proper report writing. When he had been asked about the game he replied offhandedly.

"Oh, its not a regular thing, they just want to get a look at you to determine where to send you when the course gets shut down." Shut down? Vikki froze at the thought.

"You mean after graduation or like cancelled, thanks for playing, take a copy of the home game type shut down?" Randy asked, but the instructor refused to elaborate, confirming Vikki's fears.

Then, after lunch, another surprise. A new student, but not exactly a student, or new for that matter. A young fox with black fur, shorter than average and dressed like a reject from a Hip-Hop video, was introduced.

"This is Marcel." The leopard said. "He is a junior agent from a, well from an unorthodox training regime to say the least. He will be joining us to fill in the gaps in his education."

"Yo." Said Marcel, before slumping down behind an empty desk in the rear of the class. The leopard continued as if he wasn't back there, didn't even tell him to move forward.

"Isn't that the kid Rusty said was on work placement, studying janitorial sciences?" Genghis whispered to Delores as the afternoon break started.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." She replied. "I'll go find out what's up with him."

She stood and arched her back, silhouetting her well-rounded butt and self-supporting bust for Marcel. Moving languidly toward him, trailing one fingertip on the desks that she passed, she bent into her patented Delores tilt; legs straight, one on front of the other, ass up, elbows on the desk where Marcel sat, chin on fingertips and breasts swaying gently to and fro a foot in front of his face. Delores set her personality on 'bubbly'.

"Hi there, your name's Marcel? That's such a cool name. Mine's Delores, but everyone calls me Baby Doll. Gee, you sure are a cutie." She reached out to twirl his whiskers. "So what are you doing here?" She smiled in invitation.

"You have a mint stuck down there." Marcel replied dryly, indicating her cleavage with his chin. "A green one."

"So that's where it went." mumbled Randy.

Thrown off pace for once in her life, Delores flushed red, turned her back to fish the mint out and threw it at Randy. Marcel saw Vikki watching him and stared back neutrally. No one could think of another approach before the end of the break. When they looked around again at the end of the day Marcel's seat was already empty. Vikki walked back and placed a paw there, still warm. Had he gone out the back door so silently that none of them heard it?

* * * * * * * *

Marcel had reappeared in the Gym this morning. Sitting in the stands across from where the rest of them were gathered. To her surprise Rusty greeted him like a college when he entered.

"Hey Marcel. Good to see you back in one piece." Then turning to the five "Okay, students. Change of plans. Everyone outside on the field. We'll play a little ball hockey in the parking lot. Marcel, help me with the gear will ya?" and then he hustled them outside.

Now she hopped from foot to foot, wondering if she still had a future in the Academy, and trying to cover up nipples made erect by the chilly air.

Six people in various forms of sports gear came out of the Headquarters building and headed their way. Vikki recognized the Chief of staff, Dr Gordon, and another Rat from the labs. She had seen the Party Poodle around before and the Lemur from the ID section. The Black Fox with the silver mane was new to her. Vikki wondered if he was one of the senior agents.

The Chief of Staff made introductions. The other Rat was Dr Hugh, a chemist. The Poodle was Mademoiselle Chienne-Caniche, the one they called Miss CC, executive assistant to the chief. She was glaring at Delores, who was wearing skimpy short-shorts and a cut-off Tee, which was almost as revealing as the Poodle's designer outfit. The Lemur was Joel. The Fox was Silver. So, he was a senior agent! Vikki was beginning to think that they were a myth.

For a special agent he didn't look very special. He wore a loose, plain grey t-shirt, like the ones issued to the students, and dark blue track pants. No jewellery. Not as tall as Vikki, but then again only the Chief of Staff was as tall as her. He was broad across the shoulders and long in the torso. His forearms were almost as wide as his biceps, a wrestler perhaps? Judo? His eyes were his most notable feature, a cold blue-grey that reminded her of thunderstorms. Vikki guessed that he was in his late 40's. He looked bored.

Rusty and Marcel appeared, hauling the ball-hockey gear. Rusty dumped one set beside the Staff and Marcel brought the rest to where the students stood. Without asking he picked up the goalie gear and started putting it on. No one objected.

"Okay. I'll be the Ref." Rusty stated, "Staff will take the north end goal to start and they'll be skins, students will be shirts."

The Party Poodle shrugged and began to lift her top, Randy, Genghis, Bill and even Delores leaned toward her. They all stumbled forward a step when a voice called out sharply.
"Rusty!" Silver was glaring at the combat instructor. Vikki could almost feel the air sizzle.

"Oh, sorry Silver. Didn't see you there. Okay. Staff shirts, Student skins. Let's go!" he barked.

"I don't know if you've noticed Rusty, Honey." Delores intoned, "but some of us are not wearing bras."

Rusty stared at Delores' and Vikki's chests. His head tilted left and his eyes rolled up as he imagined the implications. He ran his tongue along his lips absently.

"I think that we can tell the difference between the staff and students without the nudity." Silver injected. "Let's play." And with that he started to don the other set of goalie gear.

"He never takes his shirt off. Not even to make love." Looking around Vikki saw that it was the Poodle, looking longingly at Silver, who had spoken. She pursed her lips and shook her head sadly after she said it, making Vikki wonder if she had intended her statement to be overheard.

Once they had shown Marcel which way the goalies oversized jock went on ("Hey, its not my sport") the game began. Gold and the two Rats played forward for the Staff, with Miss CC and Joel on Defence. Randy insisted that he should play centre. Bill and Delores filled in the wings. Genghis and Vikki took defence.

The Staff had experience and skill, but he students had youth and vigour. Randy actually did seem to know what he was doing, although he was a bit of a ball-hog. Marcel was holding his own in goal, and for 20 minutes they went scoreless. All they needed to do was to create some scoring opportunities against the other team.

Randy's speed, combined with Bill's savvy and Delores tenacity, especially when it came to bumping Miss CC aside, were giving them the advantage in shots-on-net. From her vantage point behind the main action Vikki could watch Silver's performance in goal.

He took shots aimed at his head or chest straight on with out flinching. No fear there. His stick hand was phenomenal; whenever Randy shot for the top left corner, Silver would unfailingly place the narrow shaft of the goalie stick in the path of the ball and deflect it away. There was no hope of a goal there, but he did seem to be having a problem with his glove hand.

Vikki noticed that he couldn't lift his glove higher than his chest. Any shot that went for that corner he blocked with his shoulder. When the action moved away from his net he stood and rotated that shoulder, rubbing it when no one was looking.

Vikki called everyone over before the next face-off and told them what she had discovered.

"Deke low left then shot high right. He won't be in position to block with the shoulder and he can't get his arm up to trap it."

Randy brought the ball in, passed to Delores who knocked the Poodle ass over teakettle before flicking it behind the net to Bill. Bill drove it at the lower left corner of the net and Silver dove for it. Randy, forgotten by the defence, slid in front of the net and intercepted the shot, redirecting it to the top-right corner. Silver's glove made it halfway and then stalled. The ball sailed over and into the net. One-nothing for the students.

Gold and the Rats answered the goal minutes later and the game was tied. A bad pass by Randy resulted in another breakaway and Marcel folded against a three-on-none attack. Two-one for the Staff. Then Genghis made a beautiful pass to Bill who set up Delores and she deked Silver into going low again before she popped it over his left shoulder. The game was tied.

After another fifteen minutes of passing and interceptions, with neither team being able to mount a real offence Rusty called a time out.

"Times up. Next goal wins."

Both teams pressed hard, but they had a feel for each other now and neither side could break through. Suddenly, Vikki found herself with the ball and no one in front of her. Randy was trying to get around Gold, who kept bumping chests with him, Bill was blocked by Joel the Lemur, who was grinning and wiggling like a mad fool, and the Poodle had Delores, who had just tipped the ball to Vikki, pinned against the boards. This was her opportunity.

She ran in past the defence, cut right to draw the goalie to his left, faked to her left and ... went to her left, forcing Silver to slide that way with his legs stuck out to block a surface shot and his right arm cocked to block that side. But Vikki didn't shot for that side. She flicked the ball at the last instant up and right, sending it unerringly for the top corner. Silver had no chance of bringing his body back up to block the shot, but his left hand shot up, all the way up this time, and he caught the ball neatly in his trapper. Vikki froze in shock.

Standing up, she could see that his cold blue eyes were fixed on hers. He flicked his wrist and sent the ball up the centre, where Gold, now disentangled from Randy, waited with the two Rats. With only Genghis to oppose them they scored on the second rebound. Game over.

Vikki still stood near the opponent's gaol, looking back to where Marcel was banging his stick against the ground in frustration. She felt more than saw someone move up behind her. Looking around she saw that Silver was standing there, staring at her, and his eyes trapped and held hers.

After what felt like minutes, but was probably seconds he said "Is that what you're going to do in the field when things don't go as you planned? Just stand there?"

She was angry, mostly with herself for being sucked in, but she let the anger run her mouth for an instant.

"Sorry, I didn't know this was a test." she snapped back.

"Everything here is a test." He sounded more exasperated than angry, a teacher with a student who just doesn't get it. "The letter was a test of observation and decisiveness. The four days of sleep deprivation were a test of endurance and desire. Letting you out unsupervised the first time was a test of trustworthiness. Having the Leopard 'accidentally' mention shutting the Academy was a test. You think that we would have time for a casual game of ball-hockey in the middle of a crisis like that? Of course it was a test."

Vikki didn't know what to say, so she said nothing. The red flush of anger Silver could see through the fur on her face was joined by a blush of embarrassment.

"Why did you give up?" He asked with concern. "Why didn't you charge the goalie or trip the Chief of Staff? You need to do anything it takes to keep you in the game, anything. Loose your ability to affect the action and you lose the game." He shook his head. "What are willing to do to survive, that's the question."

She couldn't take those cold orbs staring at her anymore. She turned to see what the others were doing, to see who was witnessing her public rebuke. The rest of the students and staff were on the far side of the pavement however, already shaking paws and moving off with the equipment. Delores was rubbing her paw where the Poodle had squeezed it hard. Randy was talking to the Chief of Staff, still holding onto Gold's paw, Gold had his free paw on Randy's shoulder.

She turned to tell Silver that she would do whatever it took, even though the response sounded contrived even to her, but he had disappeared. She could just make him out, moving though the trees toward the staff suites. She wondered to herself, just what would she be willing to do?

* * * * * * * *

In the staff locker room, Tanner caught up with Silver as he was drying off after his shower.

"So, what do you think?"

Silver stopped towelling his ears and stared at the lockers. "I don't know." He looked up at Tanner. "O'Neil has field experience but he's not observant, more reactive than active. A field office somewhere active but not too complicated would be good for him, the Sudan perhaps? Hanlan is too thoughtful sometimes, always looking for the perfect solution, when there often isn't one. He'd do well on your planning staff. Johnson is a piece of work isn't she? She has the chutzpah, but she's a little too, uh ... notable. She should go to the field, but not in operations. She could be one of the best handlers we've ever had. Hu's okay, but no more than that. I'd like to put him in Beijing or for a couple of years to give him some seasoning first. I don't see taking any of them on my team at this time.

"What about Beausoleil?" Tanner asked.

"She worries me." Silver said thoughtfully, staring at the lockers again. "She has done well in every area, brilliantly in some. She's by far the best student in the bunch. She has some field experience, and analytical experience. She was the only one who noticed the lazy arm ploy, and she acted on it, but she got complacent, didn't have a back-up plan."
"Oh come on, you suck them in every year with that trick."

"But did you see how shocked she was!" Silver continued. "She froze. If the profile Dr. Gordon made is even halfway accurate I'll bet that she’s off somewhere beating herself up over it now."

"Not that you ever went into a funk after screwing up." Tanner reminded Silver harshly.

Silver looked up at him. He remembered the months spent in self-inflicted isolation after the Finland fiasco. All friendship aside, Tancred Williams was still Gold, the Chief of Staff, and he needed Silver to focus.

"You're right; everybody screws up and the lucky ones live to learn from it. It is better that she learns it here. The question is, will she come back fighting or fall apart?"

"What are you thinking?"

"Let's see how they hold up under another type of pressure. I'll need to borrow a few people with seduction experience. How about you Tanner? Been feeling randy lately?"

"I hardly touched the boy."

* * * * * * * *

Vikki was indeed hiding out and beating herself up over the goal. She had gone into the shared washroom of the student dormitory, taken one of the 'Out of Order' signs that were kept there because of the frequent plumbing problems in the old buildings, and put it on one of the stalls. Now she sat on the closed lid with her feet up on the seat, her arms wrapped around her legs and her head hanging between her knees.

I should have known it was a trick, she thought. I should have been ready for it. I should have speared him in the throat and danced on his silvery hide, that's what I should have done. I should have gone high right; he would never have been able to get his stick up in time. I should have waited to join the RCMP. I should file a grievance. Do we even have a Union?

One moment she was sure that she had ruined her career in the Academy, the next she was convinced that it was only a ploy to stress her out. That's it, just adding a little stress to see how well they hold up before deciding who goes to the field and who goes back to their parent organization. But what if they really are closing it down, or even just cutting back? What if they only need one or two agents? Randy was a showboat but he got in there and he got results. Hu definitely had talent and could speak all those Asian languages, definitely an asset with China rapidly becoming a superpower. Dr. Gordon thought the world of Delores, and even the Professor had scored better than her on many of the tests.

If it was a ploy to stress her out, it was working. Graduation was a few weeks away, but she had heard that candidates had been sent home on the morning of graduation itself, taken aside at the last minute. She dreaded leaving the washroom to face her fellow students and apologize for losing the game, but she was looking forward to it in comparison to showing up at the Academy tomorrow. Even if they didn't call her out right then and there she would spend the rest of the course waiting for the chop.

Vikki picked at one of her shoes and contemplated faking her death and running away to Las Vegas. Suddenly the door to the washrooms opened with a bang.

She had not set the sliding male/female sign to female when she had come in. If anyone did come in they would see the 'out of order' sign and use the handicap stall beside it. Honestly though, why have handicap stalls in a place where you weren't allowed to join if you were handicapped? Did the Special Forces barracks also have handicap stalls?

The newcomer must be in a rush, she thought, piling into the stall like it was baked bean and tequila night at the Legion hall, and they sounded desperate too. Suddenly she realized that the scuffling and heavy breathing coming from the next stall had nothing to do with its designated function. Vikki could see two sets of running shoes below the divider.

"Oh God, I shouldn't be doing this." That sounded like the Professor!

"But you will need my assistance, no?" Who was that? The Poodle?

"There's a rule against this. I'm sure of it." Hanlan moaned.

"There is a rule for everything, n'est pas?" The Poodle crooned. "But not all rules need to be followed. Now kiss me!"

Assembled for a government contract by the lowest bidder, the walls of the stalls had large gaps where the various sections met. Most of the students didn't bother with them, but some of the shyer ones had hung toilet paper to block the view. Vikki pondered the fact that all of those students had been eliminated rather quickly.

Vikki couldn't resist taking a peek. By easing herself up onto the tank of the toilet and leaning back she could peer between two panels. But the field of view was narrow; currently all she could see was the back half of the Poodle with the difficult name, Mademoiselle Chienne-Caniche, no wonder most people referred to her as 'Miss CC'. She still wore the pink designer outfit with the short-shorts that hugged her ass so well, although the effect was ruined by the outline of the Professor's right paw, which was inside, gripping one cheek.
  
"Are you sure ..." he gasped when he could catch his breath between the tongue swapping that was occurring. "That you can help me..." more tongue "stay here at the Academy?" Another pause and a soft moan from the Poodle. "I can't go back to reviewing immigration files, not after being exposed to this!"

"Of course I can help you mon p'tit cher." Miss CC simpered. "I have the ear of the Chief; and a few other parts as well." The sounds of intense facial interaction followed, and Vikki saw that Hanlan's left paw had joined the right under the shorts. "But do you really want to stay?" She added. "What about your wife."

All motion ceased in the other stall, and Vikki's gasp would have been heard if it wasn't covered by Bill Hanlan's own. Bill had a wife! She was astounded. He had never mentioned her. Everyone assumed that everyone else was single and unattached. Although never mentioned, it was understood to be a condition of selection for the Academy.

"How did you ..." Hanlan stammered.

"Oh, I just know." Suddenly she spun him around with enough force to put him on the seat of the toilet. "Now you just sit and decide if you want my help or not." She stepped forward to stand between his knees and Vikki could see both of them for the first time. "And while you decide," She grinned that toothy Poodle grin. "I'll just ... loosen up ... after a hard game, you know?"
  
Vikki had been in a few strip joints and peeler bars during her stint on the Biker Squad, but none of the Biker Babes they had dancing there could hold a candle to Miss CC. She leaned her knees on the rim of the toilet seat where Bill Hanlan sat stunned and arched her back to bring her breasts, outlined by the sweat-soaked designer top, up above his face. She slid her paws down along her sides and across her abdomen, forcing the beads of sweat to pool and run down into her shorts in rivulets. She lowered her breasts and reached down to take his paws in hers, she straightened up, lodging his snout in her cleavage. She put his paws on the waistband of her shorts and sighed, Bill's paws moved on their own and pulled her shorts down over her hips and buttocks.

Vikki saw that she was wearing what could probably be called a thong, if one was required to provide a legal definition, but she had seen more material in an eye patch. Miss CC removed her top by lifting it over her own head and down over Bill's, she was so close now. Although she was certain that the Poodle had been wearing a sports bra during the game, Vikki wasn't surprised to see that she wore none now. Now wearing only the postage stamp and butt-floss thong, the Poodle slid onto Bill's lap.
  
She bent and lifted off his grey Academy-issue gym shirt as she rubbed her breasts up from his waist to his chest, her erect nipples gently brushing his, which hardened in return. She pulled the shirt slowly over his head, but left her own top around his neck. Now reaching behind her, raising her self off his lap, she pulled his track pants down. Crossing one leg over the other, she then rotated her body, bringing the second leg straight up and over Hanlan so that the thigh pushed his snout around, until she was facing the other way, with her head between his knees and her butt in his face.

With her cropped Poodle tail held up out of the way and the thong leaving little to the imagination, Bill's gaze was fixed. Meanwhile she pulled his track pants all the way off and began to work on his underwear.

"Ohh la la!" Vikki screwed her head around to see what had attracted Miss CC's attention. Her eyes widened. Bill was average build for a Grey Fox, smaller than Randy and larger than Genghis, but it seemed that he was above average in more than just brain wattage. Mrs. Professor was a lucky vixen.
  
"Oh. What a good little soldier." the Poodle declared. "He has already learned to stand at attention!"

"Miss CC, I don't ... I shouldn't ..." Bill couldn't seem to finish his sentence.

Mademoiselle Chienne-Caniche reached back with one paw and jerked the thong off her hips. She placed a paw on either side of the toilet eat and did a hand-stand that brought every magnificent muscle in her body into relief, then relaxed, bringing a thigh to rest on each of Bill's shoulders. Finally, she wrapped her legs behind Bill's head and thrust her pelvis into his snout.

"Don't talk with your mouth full little boy." then looking down she added "make that 'Big Boy.'" and just before she filled her mouth with him "and don't call me Miss CC."

Vikki watched as the Poodle's head bobbed up and down along Bill’s shaft. Sometimes taking the full length into her mouth, sometimes nodding rapidly at the tip. Bill's paws gripped her hips as he worked her mound, sucking on it one moment, licking it the next, rubbing his nose along the glistening slit. Finding the clit he played it with the tip of his tongue for a while. Then he wrapped one arm around her hips to free the other paw to work the hardened button of flesh while his tongue sought new territory.

Long months of abstinence and the constant stress were taking their toll on Vikki as well. Unconsciously her paw slid under the waistband of her shorts to rub where she was suddenly uncomfortably warm. In her mind the image of Bill Hanlan faded into one of Randy, but it did not last. Next she pictured Rusty in his muscled glory, but a trickle of chewing tobacco intruded on her vision and he too faded. She brought the figure of the Chief of Staff, golden-furred and tall, to mind but she couldn't keep it in focus for some reason. The picture faded, seemed to solidify and faded again. As her paw worked her own clitoris and her breath began to come in gasps the face of Silver suddenly leapt to mind, blue-grey eyes hard as arctic ice and staring.

Vikki jerked her paw out from under and froze. What was she doing? She had gone off in a sulk and forgotten to tell the rest what he had said about everything being a test. About the rumour of the school being shut down being planted. They didn't know! They were all so desperate to stay they might do anything. What sort of sick mind would take advantage of them in a situation like this? Silver's, of course. 

The Poodle already had the Professor in her trap; Vikki had to warn the rest. As quietly as possible she slid down off the top of the toilet and eased the door to the stall open, closing it just as carefully. Her sneakers made no sound on the tile floor as she crossed the washroom. Once safely in the hall she straightened up, adjusted her clothes and ran for the exit.

Halfway there a door behind her opened and she skidded to a walking pace. Glancing over her shoulder she saw the Lemur, Joel was it? Coming out of Hu's room. The Lemur was holding one paw to an eye that already showed signs of swelling and was muttering under his breath as he passed her.

"Last time I do a favour for that two-toned son-of-a-bitch." He hurried down the hall and out the door.

Seconds later Genghis appeared at his door. His furrowed brow and narrowed eyes broadcast his anger.

"What happened Genghis?" Vikki asked.

"The little creep tried to make a pass at me. Said If I was nice to him he could keep me here when the school closed. I decked him."

"Where are Randy and Baby Doll?"

"Last I saw Randy was in the showers after the game. He's some pissed at you by the way. Delores went off with Dr. Gordon. Said something about some new body language reading technique he wanted to try."
  
"Yeah, it’s called Brail." What to do? It was probably too late to warn Delores. Where would Randy be? In the Student's lounge?

Vikki stepped outside the dorm building to think and look around.

"Hey," came from behind her.

Spinning around, she found the new student, Marcel, sitting on the railing of the entranceway. He was dressed in his usual baggy pants and loose shirt, cap on backwards and sneakers combo, but it looked like he had showered and combed his fur for a change. He was balancing a dagger by its tip on his middle finger and when he saw her staring at it he blushed and put it away. Vikki didn't notice the blush, she had already turned away; her mind was still going too fast to accept new sensory input.

Marcel tried to fill the awkward silence. "So, Vikki. Been here at the Academy long?" He winced. Smooth move ex-lax. "I mean, like, I been here a while and all but not in the regular school so I was wondering if you could show me around. Like, where you guys hang, where the food’s at, that kind of thing. Like, I'm supposed to have a room in this building now." He waved a paper with a number on it at her. "Could you, you know, show me where it is and maybe get me set up for the night?"
  
Vikki didn't answer at first. Was he asking for help or trying to get her up to his room? The events of the last hour span through her head - tests, traps, seduction, Silver. She turned slowly back to face him ...

* * * * * * * *

Silver was crossing the gardens between the staff quarters and the student dorm when he heard the raised voices, one male, one female. Both sounded angry. When he rounded the bend that brought the dorm into view he was just in time to see Beausoleil striding away with her tail up and her paws clenched into fists. I pity the fool that gets in her way, he thought.

He found Marcel at the dorm's entranceway, kicking at the railing and swearing under his breath. "What's wrong Marcel?"

"I don't know. You tell me" Marcel turned on Silver. "I just tried to be nice and sorta get in with the other students, and, and I thought that she was kinda nice, " he looked down to hide a blush, then the anger returned "and she near rips my head off!"

"What did she say?"

"She said that I could go and tell my 'metallic-maned master' that she wasn't going to play his perverted little game and that I could go ... well she got personal at that point and it went downhill from there."
  
"She thought that I'd sent you here to seduce her? She was expecting it? I'll bet that she was not happy." Silver was starting to smile.

"No shit Sherlock. She damn near punctured my chest pokin' it with those pointy claws of hers. Said if you thought that you could get rid of her that easy you got another think comin'. Said you'd have to pry her out of here with a crowbar. Hey! What the hell are you laughing at?"

Silver had almost doubled over in laughter. Thatta girl, he thought, figured it out and threw it right back at him! He wondered if he should continue to play her but decided against taking it too far. He would let her stew tonight but tomorrow morning he would call her in and put her fears to rest.

Suddenly a beeping noise issued from the region of his belt. Reaching down he retrieved the mobile device the Academy made him carry when he wasn't in the field. He pressed a few buttons and the screen lit up. Marcel, ignored for now, noticed several other people around the farm had stopped and were doing the same.
  
Silver frowned. "I've got to go find the Chief of Staff, Marcel. Stay out of Beausoleil's way until lunch tomorrow." Then he jogged off down the path the way he'd come. The others that Marcel had noted were converging on the Headquarters building.

Running footsteps in the hall, then the door to the dorm banged open, almost knocking Marcel off the landing. The black-and-white Party Poodle Marcel had seen at the game stood there, pulling her shoes on while she held her pager in her mouth, her shorts on backwards.

"Mon Dieu, I'm coming ... or I was, tabernaque!" and she too ran off toward the headquarters.

* * * * * * * *

Silver knocked on Tanner's door. Usually Tanner would have been alerted already, but it was his habit to shut off his mobile device during his rare 'mental health' breaks. He would notify the duty officer that he was shutting down and was only to be disturbed in emergencies. Silver was the duty officer today and this was an emergency.

"Come In. Hi Silver"

"Hi Tanner. Hi Randy.

"Uh, hi Mr....uh, Silver." Randy poked his head up from under the blanket where he was trying to hide.
  
Ignoring him Silver turned to the Chief of Staff. "Something has come up. W's called all the Ops and planning staff into the situation room."

"Is it big?" Gold asked.

"Very. Looks like we'll be needing all of the students for this one. Congratulations Randy, you just graduated." Looking back to Tanner Silver asked, "Think you could free yourself and come join us?"

"Oh sure." Tanner replied, pulling the black leather harness he was wearing off. "These padlocks are just for show."