The Lion watched from a distance, a smile on his face, as the elderly male rabbit struggled with the unruly grandchild in his arms and argued with the vixen; the children’s parents were much too busy trying to keep track of the other seven or so of her children.  He was tempted to offer his lap for a couple of the kids, but he’d had a long trip, and wanted to sleep; besides, he didn’t agree with trying to cheat the Vixen out of the proper number of fares.  He waited until they’d settled on purchasing four more tickets at a discount, and had passed out onto the apron, towards the elderly seaplane. 

As they departed, he moved away from the wall, limping slightly as he approached, his barracks bag slung over his shoulder.  Just before he reached her, though, a short male cheetah dashed up, to inquire if he’d missed the flight.  The vixen smiled and assured him that he hadn’t, and after checking his luggage, he too headed for the aircraft, still moving fast. 

Without words he handed his ticket to the vixen.  “Any luggage to check?” she asked?  He just shook his head no; “one carry-on; that’s all”.  She nodded and turned to the elderly couple approaching.  Quietly he moved towards the door.  He was glad that there wasn’t another of those damn metal detectors at the gate.  His gizmo had fooled the one in the main terminal, but he wasn’t sure how long the batteries would last. 

Kari scarecly noticed the large Lion with the eyepatch; she was still fuming over the way the rabbits had tried to cheat her, at how they’d put her further behind schedule than she already was.  Before she knew it, he’d moved off quietly, her attention grabbed by the next set of passengers to arrive.  Why were they always so late, when they were headed towards their vacation, and so early and eager to be gone when departing, returning to their busy lives? 

The sun was hot as he moved towards the seaplane.  He slowed to take a good look at it.  It was one of those venerable designs, a classic.  And ancient.  Still, there were no signs of oil under the engines, and the exhaust ports looked clear; the engines seemed to have been running correctly.  As he got closer, he looked over its surface; there were no loose or missing rivets……  It looked to be in good shape, despite its age.  He’d flown on worse.  His dawdling had earned him the honor of being the last one into the aircraft, boarding the ladder just before the lady pilot.  Kicking his barracks bag under a seat, he turned and with one paw, helped her raise the steps.  She shot him a quick look, mingled surprise and thanks, and then moved forwards towards the flight deck. 

He took a seat next to the door; he didn’t care about a window, but always preferred to have a quick way out.  “Good place to sleep” he though, and as the engines coughed to life, he watched the other passengers curiously.  The rabbit children had all taken window seats (none were on their parents or grandfather’s laps), and they ooohed and ahhhhed as the venerable seaplane made its way to the runway.  Shortly, they were in the air, wheels up, with the ancient radial engines struggling in the hot air to bring the seaplane to cruising altitude.  Once in the air, he reached into a pocket on his barracks bag and quietly turned off a switch on a small black box.  Smiling, he quietly replaced it. 

He knew it would be a short flight to the island, but as the plane leveled out, he settled back in his seat, one foot on his bag, and with the ability of old soldiers everywhere, fell almost instantly asleep.  He awakened to the changing sound of the engines.  They were there, the seaplane spiraling in as it descended.  He heard the flaps come down, and then the wingtip floats.  The aircraft creaked surprisingly little as it descended, and he nodded in approval.  Then there was the whump-shhhhuuuush as the aircraft touched down. 

It was a short taxi to the dock, and when he felt the thump of the aircraft’s hull against the dock, he unlatched the door, and swung it inwards.  The dock was bustling with three children rapidly moving to tie up the seaplane, and he found that he wasn’t needed.  “Just as well”, he thought.  Turning to fuss needlessly with his bag, he allowed the other passengers to depart first, leaving the aircraft only when he was the only one remaining. 

Lucas turned from the baggage compartment and almost collided with the large tan form in front of him; stepping back suddenly he almost tripped over one of the Rabbit family’s pieces of luggage.  The lion turned and smiled at the boy, and quietly stepped aside; waving him past.  Lucas picked up the first load of luggage and watching more carefully, scooted past, to start piling the luggage on your cart. 

“Take your bag, Mister?”  Rale had watched his brother almost collide with the big stranger.  At first, he had been afraid that the large feline would have the same attitude as Mr. Van Ankat, but he seemed to be much, well, milder.  Accordingly, he was a little bolder……  The lion turned to look at him.  After a moment, he said in a deep voice; “Thanks, but I’m on a bit of a budget, son; wouldn’t have money to tip you, I’m afraid.”  Rale blinked; “that’s OK, all part of the service……”  The lion smiled again and slipping his bag off his shoulder, handed it to the youth.  Rale took the strap in one hand and gasped as it almost pulled him over.  Only the sudden presence of the lion’s strong paw on his shoulder kept him (and the bag) from going into the water.  “Its heavier than it looks; perhaps I should hang onto it…..” he rumbled.  Rale grunted and refused to let go; “No, I got it; it just surprised me, ‘s all…..”  The lion smiled and let him struggle with the bag, watching as he almost dragging it to the cart. 

The event drew Sylvia’s attention, and she turned from greeting the elderly couple to look at the last passenger to disembark from the plane.  Her eyes widened in surprise, and she took a halting step forward…  “John?  John Mosby, is that YOU?”  The lion grinnned softly and stepped forward to take Sylvia’s hands in his; “Hello, Sylvia; I was wondering if you’d remember me, its been so long.  You look every bit as ravishing as I remembered”. 

Rale dropped the lion’s bag on the cart and stage whispered to Lucas; “Mom knows him?”  Lucas just shrugged and watched covertly as he continued to pile baggage on the cart. 

Sylvia gaped; of all the people she’d expected to get off the airplane this ghost from her high school days was the last one she expected.  “John Mosby, WHERE have you been all this time?  And what brings you back here now?”  Why, its been….. Good Lord!  Its been 22 YEARS!  She looked him up and down as if not really believing it was him.  John continued to hold her hands in his, an effective technique, he'd found to forestall embarrassing hugs.  “I’ve been….. here and there.  I’ll  tell you more about it later.  As good as it is to see you, I’m afraid I’m actually here on business.  There’s one of your guests, a Mr. York, that I need to talk to”.  Sylvia blinked; “Ah, yes we have a Mr. Tobias York and his party staying here.  He’s quite the Magnate I understand.”  She giggled; “I think he’s here to see another of our wealthy patrons, Mr. Van Ankat.”  John shrugged; “don’t know about him, and I promise not to disturb your resort; I just need a few words with him.  But not today.  To tell you the truth, I’ve been traveling for about three days straight, and I’m exhausted.  Do you have a small, inexpensive cabin I might rent for a few days?  If you’re full, I’ll just find a place to camp out; I’ve really gotten used to that, in years past.” 

Sylvia shook her head; “Number 13 is vacant; it’s the smallest, least expensive, with the poorest view (which is why it drew the number 13); I can let you have it fairly inexpensively I suppose….”  She brightened; “as a favor for an old friend, BUT you’re going to have to tell me all about where you’ve been and what you’ve done since I last saw you!”  John winced a bit, but nodded; “Deal”.  Sylvia started to open her mouth to say something else, but Janet interrupted her; “Pardon me, Mother, but there’s a problem with the cabin for the rabbits….”  Sylvia nodded and sighed; “John, I’ll have Rale take you to No.13, and get you a key; and remember, you owe me a story”  The lion just nodded and smiled slightly as Sylvia was dragged off by her daughter. 

Rale unlocked the door to the small cabin and hefted the bag inside, to drop it on the bed with an exhausted “whoof!”  He’d insisted on carrying it the whole way, to the lion’s amusement.  As he turned to hand the key to the lion he wheezed; “Geez, mister, whatcha got in there?”  The lion just smiled;  “The tools of my trade.  Nothing too interesting, I’m sure.  Turning, he moved to usher the curious youth out the door before too many more questions could be asked.  Rale looked disappointed but gave a wave and trotted back towards the main lodge. 

Closing the door, and locking it, the lion turned back to the bed, to unlock, and open the bag.  The first thing he removed was a large knife in a scabbard; he withdrew the blade and turned it so that the light caught on its polished surface.  Removing it from the scabbard, he reached up and slid the blade down the back of his neck, obviously into a sheath built into the back of his bush jacket.  A shake of his head and his mane hid all trace of the weapon.  Turning back to his bag, he began to remove small pieces.  It took but a moment for him to assemble them into a powerful military style handgun.  After a moment’s indecision, he slid the gun under the pillow on the bed.  He looked at the bed longingly for a moment, obviously tired, but in the end, opted for a quick shower.  Dressing again, afterwards, he exited the tiny cabin, and locking the door firmly behind him, made his way towards the lodge. 

He was early for dinner, a fact that didn’t surprise him, even though his stomach, thinking it was in a different time zone, insisted it was well past dinner.  Stepping into the small alcove that served as the resort’s bar, he ordered a simple meal, and then turned his attention to the row of bottles lining the wall.  When his food came, he arranged to purchase a bottle of whiskey, a brand he could afford.  Carefully carrying the plate and the bottle, he made his way back to his cabin.  As he walked, he felt the wind gust against him, and turning, he beheld, on the horizon to the East, the darkening that indicated a coming storm. 

He sat on the bed and ate his dinner, almost licking the plate clean.  It’d been a long time since he’d had food that good, and he realized it had been a mistake not to have waited for the sit-down dinner at the main lodge.  Oh well, here at least, there was the prospect for tomorrow, and the chance to do it right the next time.  Uncorking the bottle, he sat on the bed and watched the gathering storm through the window, taking an occasional long pull from the bottle. 

His exhaustion overcame him, and before he’d finished a third of the bottle he was sprawled across the bed snoring.  The storm approached, like the relentless force of nature that it was.  With storms, the most lightning, and therefor the thunder, is usually found at the leading and trailing edges, and as this storm approached, the lightning cracked and the thunder boomed like the trump of doom. 

Lucas watched the lightning from the porch of the main lodge; he loved these summer storms; they were nature’s own fireworks, and he grinned with each peal of thunder……. 

Artillery was raining down on his position, the shells falling so fast that the sound of their explosions was almost continuous.  Risking a look over the edge of his fighting position he noted that the command bunker had taken a direct hit; either they were very unlucky, or the colonel’s artful camouflage scheme hadn’t fooled the enemy and they’d sent a smart round his way.  Either way, the lion thought, he was probably now in charge of this clusterfuck.  Taking another look, he scanned the area in front of the unit’s position; at least the ground assault hadn’t started yet.  Then the fist of God struck the ground to his right front, and he felt his helmet torn off, as ghostly knives tugged at his mane, stabbed at his left ear, and as a burning hot dagger stabbed into his right eye.  He screamed in rage and pain, spinning about, to collapse over the side wall of his fighting position.  Lifting his head, he realized that to the East, on his position’s flank, the ground was covered with the advancing enemy.  Dropping down into the bottom of his fighting position, as he fought back waves of pain and blackness, he reached for the radio….. 

Thunder crashed as he sat bolt upright on the bed, his right hand covering his eyepatch as if trying to staunch the bleeding.  He panted hard for a moment, and then looked out the window.  “just a dream” he muttered to himself.  “Just the storm.  Its OK; you’re safe, you idiot.  Calm down and go back to sleep…..”  Laying back down, he listened to the rain pounding on the roof, the water shuushing through the gutters…… 

He listened as the water poured into the damaged amphibous assault vehicle.  The beach was not lightly defended as they’d been told and a near miss from an artillery round had sprung the seams of this vehicle.  Now water was pouring in faster than the pumps could get rid of it.  The vehicle rode low in the water to begin with, and as it grew heavier, it was rapidly submerging, as the initial attempt to flee through a top hatch had shown.  Now their only chance was to hope that they were close enough to the shore that they could crawl their way up the beach before they drowned.  The water was up to his knees, and his troops were beginning to panic.  “All right you Apes” he growled; “Stay Calm.  Davidson!  Kent!  Rodriguez!  Schmidt!  As soon as the pressure equalizes, you get that back hatch open!  Everyone else, strip off your gear, get your muzzles up by the roof and start hyperventilating!”  As the water rose to his neck, he knew they would never make the beach…… 

He sat up again on the bed, breathing hard, breathing as if he’d been drowning.  Looking around, he shook himself.  “Just another dream.  ‘s OK, you’re safe.  Its nice and quiet; lay down and get some sleep, fer cryin’ out loud! 

Silent.  Had to keep silent.  His patrol had run into what had to be an enemy battalion, moving through the jungle, heading for the firebase.  Their only hope, the only hope of those in the firebase, was for them to stay quiet, to be missed by the hundreds of enemy moving through the dense jungle.  Only then, if they survived, could they radio a warning.  However, the least little sound, anything to attract attention to the dozen furrs hiding in the bushes, and they’d be uncovered, and killed before they could raise the warning….. had to be quiet…… 

Again he woke up breathing hard, his ears straining to detect the least footfall.  It must have been a  half a minute before his eyes told him that he wasn’t in the dark jungle, that all was well.  Shaking his head, he realized that it was growing light outside.  Flopping back onto the bed, he once again fell into an exhausted sleep. 

Janet knocked on the door to No.13.  “Room Service” she called.  Hearing no reply, she opened the door.  The lion was sprawled across his bed, still wearing the clothes she’d last seen him in.  The bed was a mess, the sheets all rumpled and strewn about.  Concerned that he might be ill, she walked over and laid a paw on his shoulder; “Hey mister, you all right?”  She screamed as he literally exploded off the bed, to pin her against the wall, the blade of a very large knife pressed just under her sternum.  He stared at her wide-eyed for a moment and then stepped back, releasing her.  He shook his head; “Terribly sorry about that, but I’m afraid its just not safe to wake me like that.  Conditioned reflexes and all that….. I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly….  Janet managed to squeek out  “I just thought you might be…. Ill.  You didn’t look well…..”  He nodded, looking out the window at the fresh day outside; “I’m afraid the storm brought nightmares, and I admit I didn’t sleep well.  I do apologize, though, my behavior was inexcusable; what might I do to make amends?”  Janet shrugged; “Dunno, but if I think of something, I’ll let you know.  Why don’t you go get some breakfast, or, er, lunch, while I tidy your room.  The lion nodded absently, as if lost in thought.  Moving apparently by instinct, he slid the knife back into its sheath at the back of his neck, and turned and without another word, slipped out the door. 

Janet was still shaking from the residual adrenaline as she made up his room.  Aside from the mussed bed, he had disturbed little.  However as she made the bed, smoothing the bottom sheet, her hand slipped beneath the pillow, and chanced upon something hard.  Pulling it down, to her horror she beheld a large handgun…….. 

The lion did his best to bring some order to his mane as he limped towards the main lodge.  As he entered, he heard voices from his left, and turning, he noted three furrs playing cards in what was obviously a game room.  One of them was Tobias York, the furr he’d come to talk to.  He stood there for a moment watching them play.  They appeared to be gambling, more for the sake of winning, than for the acquisition of money; however, it was also apparent that they were all quite well off, and the sums they were tossing about were significant.  As they concluded yet another hand, one of them, the Cheetah from the flight in, the day before, looked up and smiled; “Ah, just what we need; a fourth player.  Sir would you care to join us?  York growled; “if he can afford to buy into the game, sir.”  The lion nodded and moved to take the chair opposide York; “as I’ve come to talk to you, Sir, this might be a good time.”  Turning to look at the cheetah, he inquired how much to buy into the game.  The sum startled him, although he did his best to conceal that.  It was almost all the cash he had with him; should he loose, Sylvia would probably have him washing dishes to pay off his debt.  He grinned to himself; he’d done worse……  Pulling out his wallet, he handed the cash to the Cheetah, who shoved a small pile of chips his way. 

“What possible business could I have with you”  York sneered.  The lion smiled as the Cheetah delt the first hand.  “Sir, I’m sure you remember a business meeting some seven months ago.  Nathan Forrest introduced us.”  York’s eyes narrowed; “the mercenaries?  Not likely; they’re all dead!”  The lion smiled, a deceptively soft expression on his face; “Not quite sir.  I admit, it was a bit of a surprise when the promised transport failed to show at the rendezvous, but we found a way to…. Persevere.  As per the contract, sir, we delivered President Suharjo to your business office in Ampad.  I’m sure if you check with your business manager there, he’ll be glad to tell you about it.  We, ah, insured that there were plenty of witnesses.  And we had a contract, sir.  Having completed our end, We shall expect prompt payment in full.  Or, sir, I’m afraid we’ll have to see you in court.”  The lion grinned, looking straight at York; “I’m sure you can understand why President… I guess that would be ex-president Suharjo declined your office manager’s hospitality, but after all, that was outside our contract, and as such, none of our affair……”  The lion looked down at his cards and smiled even more broadly, the hint of fangs in his smile.  Folding his cards he placed them face down on the table.  “No cards.  I’ll see your ten and raise you five”. 

York stared at the rough looking lion.  Could this be?  The People’s Liberation Army had assured him they’d all been killed….. but there had been a lion with Forrest….. could this be the one? 

Sylvia and Janet listened from just outside the game room; she’d planned on giving her old friend, or at least the person that had been her old friend, a very stern talking to, but the words floating out of the game room had given them both pause.  What in the world was he talking about? 

York blinked as the cheetah nudged him; “your bet, Tobias”.  York looked down at his hand and shook his head; “I fold”. 

The lion smiled as his full house beat the pair of aces the Cheetah held.  Taking his winnings he quietly bowed out of the game, over the objections of everyone but York.  Stepping out into the hall, he came face to face with a very angry looking Sylvia Slipsunder, standing in front of her daughter Janet.  “I want a word with you, John Mosby” she hissed. 

They sat in the kitchen.  Janet had been thoughtfull enough to fix the Lion a plate of leftovers, knowing he’d missed Breakfast and now lunch as well.  He nodded politely to her in thanks as Sylvia growled; “OK, John, explain yourself.” 

Before he could start Sylvia interrupted; “Oh, by the way, your weapon is locked in the resort safe.  You may call for it when you leave”.  The lion growled low; “Sylvia, that might not be wise.  I’ve just informed Mr. York that payment is due on a contract he let; he will find this very embarrassing, and may seek to complete the task started by the PLA.  I would not put it past him to send folks to kill me, and I might just need that.  Sylvia looked horrified; “John, what HAVE you brought to my home?” 

The lion looked at Sylvia, and then at Janet, and opened his mouth to speak; he hesitated for a moment, as if waiting for the next interruption; when none was forthcoming, he started speaking.  “Seven months ago I was asked to join a…… mission.  There had been a revolution in a small undeveloped country; what some might call a “banana republic”.  Normally no one would care, but it seems that just recently, a major corporation had discovered oil there.  No, there were no drilling platforms, or refineries… yet.  Still, the discovery was valuable, and those that owned the claims did not want to see the new government nationalize them.  They thought that if the now imprisoned ex-president were liberated, he could be used as a focal point for a counter revolution.  Obviously, with the restored government in their debt they would be able to exploit their find.  In order to free the ex-president, they hired a team of, well, mercenaries, of which I was one.” 

Sylvia interrupted; “I thought you’d left to join the army?  How did you get involved with mercenaries?”  He could hear the tinge of disgust in her voice.  Staring out the window, one finger moved absently to stroke his eyepatch; “modern medicine is good, but when they determined that my eye was too far gone to rebuild, I got a medical discharge, and a modest pension.  It was too late.  I tried to work at civilian jobs, but just never fit in.  Eventually, an old friend asked me to join him on a mission…..  I had little left to loose, and I agreed.  Been doing it ever since.”  He turned back to look at Sylvia, almost challengingly; “you’d be surprised how much call there is for folks such as me.  I keep pretty busy.  But this job was a disaster……..” 

They stood at the fringes of the jungle clearing in the pouring rain, waiting.  “Whiskey Zulu three, say AGAIN!”  The RTO’s (radiotelephone operator)’s voice was rising as he talked, drawing curious stares from the rest of the commando.  Looking up, the RTO fixed Major Bragg with a wide eyed stare; “Sir, they say they’re not coming!  They say that the consortium canceled the flight!”  “Damn” the Major muttered.  “We been sold out.  I bet that bastard York cut a deal with the PLA.”  Looking up, he muttered; “Simmons, get through to command; see if they can arrange for alternative transportation.  Mosby, set up a defensive perimeter; we may be here a while.  Koslov, how are the supplies holding up…… 

“Dammit, Major, we can’t hold here; if the PLA catch up with us, we’ll be encircled, and trapped!  We got to keep moving!”  The Major sighed; “John, we’re at the fringes of radio range now; if we move any further from the coast we’ll loose all hope of calling in a transport.  Dammit, we should have brought a satellite tranceiver……” 

“Sargent, they’re coming!”  “OK, dammit, keep down  We’re going to get one shot at this ambush.  Hold your fire until they’re in the kill zone.”  The lion watched the advancing PLA infantry, flitting through the jungle.  They knew they were close, moving carefully.  “Probably triangulated on the radio transmission” he thought.  He raised his SMG as the leading troopers reached the trip lines for the directional mines….. 

“Fall Back!  Fall Back!” he yelled as he fired half a clip at a bunched up group of PLA.  The appearance of the armored vehicles in the jungle had surprised and dismayed him.  They’d barely been able to get their jeeps this far.  And of course they didn’t have any anti-tank weapons.  Hadn’t thought they’d need them…..  He watched in horror as a figure rose from the bushes, to dash to the flank of the rearmost AFV.  Spraying fire at the PLA infantry nearby, Major Bragg vaulted to the rear deck of the vehicle, to wrench open a hatch, and drop a grenade down into its interior.  Seconds later he was cut down by fire coming from three different directions; just as the vehicle he stood on erupted into flames. 

“Sargent Major, get the troops across the river; make’em swim.  I’ll take Simmons and Yuan Chen and we’ll try and give you as much time as we can; it’s the only way we can shake that damn tank”.  “Captain, we do that, we have to leave all the heavy stuff; the radio, the LMG, and a LOT of the excess ammo” the Rabbit growled.”  “you got a better idea, Sergeant major?” the lion growled.  “No?  Didn’t think so; I don’t like it much either, Sergeant Major, but I don’t see an alternative.  Get the men moving…….” 

“That way” the Sergeant Major growled, as he held a compass in one hand, and gestured with the other.  The SatNav receiver had failed three days before.  They were headed across the virgin jungle, heading diagonally across the continent.  Carthahenja lay in that direction, a bustling port city in a country famous for its drug trade and crime cartels.  If they could make it there, they could find communications equipment, transport… and help. 

Simmons screamed as something under the water grabbed him, dragging him under.  The remaining men of the commando watched the dark water carefully, watching for any sign of Simmons, or for the monster that had grabbed him.  The water remained still; he was never seen again.  They moved on. 

They were moving through triple canopy rain forest.  They moved warily, not because of the fear of the PLA; they’d lost them weeks ago; but because packs of wild pigs inhabited these areas.  The packs were fearless and vicious, and would pursue a furr until he climbed a tree; they’d then dig at the roots until the tree toppled and they could get at their victim.  So far, only combined automatic weapons fire had held them at bay, and the ammo was running out.  At least they made good eating…… 

The Sergeant Major watched frozen in horror.  The spider had to be three feet across, and it was moving towards them in twelve to eighteen foot jumps.  Yuan Chen lit a flare and threw it at the monster, forcing it off, but the Sergeant Major knew it was still out there, waiting its chance…… 

 Koslov screamed and writhed, and instantly everyone was awake.  His body was crawling with large black insects and his comrades watched as they stung him again and again.  They swatted at the bugs furiously, scattering them, killing some, as they dragged the screaming Koslov out of the ribbon of black that was now crawling across the jungle floor.  They carried him for three days as he whimpered and moaned, his body swelling up horribly until finally he died. 

“That’s it, John” the Sergeant Major nodded.  They’d come out of the jungle into farmlands.  It hadn’t taken long to find the estate of one of the minor drug lords.  They had made their way at night towards the compound, until they crouched at the edges of the small private airport.  It was obvious that there was a small fleet of “private” aircraft there, obviously used for smuggling.  “Yuan Chen says he thinks he can fly that one” the Sergeant Major whispered.  The Lion nodded; “lets go take a look at the guard shack…..” 

It hadn’t taken long to eliminate the local guards.  It had been done quietly, if bloodily.  Knives and claws in the jungle night.  Lights came on in the big house when the engines coughed to life, but they were gone by the time anyone could come to investigate. 

“We had kept ex-president Suharjo alive, and reasonably well, and intact through the whole trek.  All the troops that we lost, we kept him alive.  There were thirty-four of us when we went to get Suharjo; when we flew out, there were six of us left.  And him.  Had to keep him healthy; he had become the reason for our existence. Our honor was tied up with bringing him out as we’d promised…….” 

The lion looked up at Sylvia.  She was sitting back in her chair, her paws around a coffee mug on the table, its contents long since gone cold.  Somewhere during his story, Lucas and Rale had wandered in, and were staring at him wide-eyed.  He smiled softly; “we took Suharjo to the business office of the Consortium as specified in the contract.  Of course, once there, he fled; can’t say as I blame him.  He’s now a major liability to York.  He can tell how York and his consortium have been meddling in third world politics, and that can’t be good for business. 

Janet looked up; “if he doesn’t pay up, will you kill him, in revenge for what he did?”  The lion just smiled; “think of all the dependents all those folks had.  They need the money more than they need revenge.  If he doesn’t pay, we’ll just take him to court.  Of course,  he can’t afford that; the publicity would be…. Negative.  He’ll pay; he just has to calm down and think logically…….. 

The lion looked from face to face; “I do apologize; when I tell stories like that, the result is inevitably the same, and I’m sorry I’ve upset you.  Please forgive me.  If you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my leave.  Oh, and in case York decides its better to…….. remove the embarrasment, I’ll keep my distance……”  And with that he rose and limped off in to the night. 

Janet looked at her mother, dumbfounded; “Oh Mother; now what do we do?” 

The lion returned to his cabin for just a moment.  Smiling to himself, he unlocked his bag, and retrieved more pieces of metal and plastic.  Shortly, he’d assembled his SMG (submachine gun).  Wrapping it in a towel, and grabbing his bottle, he padded out to move towards the lagoon.  Finding a seat on the end of the dock, his mane bristling at how exposed he was in the moonlight, he uncorked the bottle and took a long swig.  Out on the horizon, another summer storm was building.  It was still distant, but it looked as if it was headed this way.  “Still”, he thought, “I’ve got some time before I’ll have to go in”.  As he put the bottle down, his hand grazed a mooring cleat.  Smiling, he pulled the SMG from under the towel and slung it over the side of the dock, its shoulder strap almost invisible in the darkness, where it wrapped around the cleat, hanging out of sight, but where he could reach it easily.…….. 

Rale and Lucas crouched in the shadows of one of the cabins, watching the lone figure sitting on the end of the dock.  “What do you think he’s doing out there” Rale whispered.  “Dunno” Lucas replied.  “Looks like he’s just sitting.  Do you think he’s waiting for someone?”  Rale just shook his head; “I dunno; but if Momma wants us to watch him, she must be expecting something to happen.  Do you think that story he told was true?” 

Tobias York was not happy.  After the lion had left, he’d excused himself from the game and returned to his cabin.  Telling his mistress to leave him alone in no uncertain terms, he’d retrieved his cell phone and retired to the bathroom to make some calls, only to find out that the satellite it communicated with was too low on the horizon to permit operation.  With a snarl he returned to the living area, told his mistress to take a hike, and picked up the receiver of the room’s phone.  An hour later he was in an even worse mood.  Yes, the business manager of his office in Ampad had confirmed the story; they’d been desperate to try and locate him, but his cell phone had been “out of service”, and he hadn’t told anyone where he was going on vacation……..  A call to his lawyer confirmed that as the contract was written, payment was due.  He then made a call to his “head of corporate security”, that furr that so often handled those odious tasks that came up, the one that had found the Mercenary outfit for the operation in that nasty little country.  That person had told him that it would be highly unlikely that they could find and eliminate all of the surviving mercenaries before a court case was filed.  “If they’re as good as I’ve been led to believe, and the fact that ANY of them survived that little screw-up tends to confirm that impression, then they’ve all gone to ground somewhere, and it would be deuced hard to locate them.  If we kill this Captain Mosby, the others’ll only be even more on guard.  Don’t think that’s a reasonable alternative, Sir”.  York was NOT pleased to hear that, but was forced to agree with the logic.  His final call was to his banker. 

Sylvia crouched outside York’s cabin.  She’d seen the light come on, on the switchboard, indicating that he was making calls from his room, and thought it best if she could find out what she could.  She hadn’t liked the story John had told her, and was concerned over what either of those two might do…..  Listening as best she could, she only heard a few words of each of the calls.  However, in the third phone call, she distinctly heard “……..eliminate them…..” and that was all she needed to send her in search of John. 

Sylvia was looking for where her sons might be when a “Psssst!” from the shadows drew her attention; she moved as quietly as she could to where they crouched. “Alls quiet, Momma” Rale whispered.  Lucas nodded; “He’s just been sittin’ there drinkin’.  Should be well stewed by now”  Sylvia watched for a moment and nodded; “you boys keep an eye out for anyone else who comes looking for him; I’ve got to go talk to him.” 

The lion heard her coming as soon as she stepped onto the dock, the wooden boards thumping with each step.  He smiled to himself but didn’t turn his head until she sat down next to him.  Sylvia looked at him for a moment, and then reached out to pick up the bottle.  She frowned as she realized it was still two-thirds full.  “You haven’t been drinking at all, have you?”  He smiled; “No; this is no time to get drunk.  I’ll do that later when things have quieted down.  You wouldn’t happen to know if York came with a bodyguard, would you?  Wouldn’t necessarily have to be someone in his party either.  That Cheetah perhaps?  He seems to be here by himself….”  Sylvia shook her head as she looked at him; “No, he came with a lady friend, but I haven’t seen anyone that made me think of a bodyguard…….”  The lion nodded; “rich, powerful folks like that seldom travel without one.  But many times they’re discrete, staying to the background.  I should know, I’ve done that a few times myself.” 

Sylvia looked back out over the lagoon, as the gathering clouds obscured the moonlight on the water; “York was on the phone a lot this evening.  I….. did some snooping.  Couldn’t hear much through the wall, but I did hear him say, quite distinctly, the phrase “eliminate them”.  I fear he’s going to have you killed……. 

The lion smiled; “and of course you’d much rather it didn’t happen at your resort.  It’d be quite bad for business, I’d imagine.  Honestly though, I wouldn’t worry about it.  He’s just exploring his options.  He’ll realize that it’d take much too long to get a team into a place this remote.  I’m sure he’ll come to his senses and just pay up, and write it off as a business loss. 

Sylvia shook her head; “John, I’m more worried about you than any “loss of business”.  I don’t want to see you get killed over this!  Oh, here, I almost forgot…..”  She passed a bundle wrapped in paper to the lion.  He unwrapped it, to find his pistol.  “The way the evening has gone, I fear you were right; you might need that.”  The lion just chuckled and bent over to give her a soft kiss; “thanks, but from the look in his eyes as we talked, I don’t’ think that’s as likely.  Actually, I was kinda hoping you had a sandwich wrapped in the paper there……..  Sylvia smiled and shook her head; “you always were the hungry one.  Come on, I’ll make you a midnight snack”.  Rising she took his hand and led him back towards the main lodge. 

The elderly rabbit watched them go.  Shaking his head, he waited for the two boys to follow them, and when all was quiet, he moved softly down to the dock, to retrieve the SMG, still dangling from the mooring cleat. 

As the lion wolfed down the sandwich, Sylvia watched him.  He certainly didn’t act like he was afraid York was going to kill him.  “John, I don’t think it would be smart for you to spend the night in your cabin.  I’m concerned that something might happen”.  The lion swallowed; “True.  I was planning on finding a nice spot in the woods where I could watch the cabin.  Guess I’m going to get a bit wet, though…….”  Sylvia smiled; “I have a better idea; you can see your cabin from the window of my room.  Might be a good place to watch from…….”  He just smiled. 

The lion sat by the window, Sylvia on his lap.  Admittedly his attention was divided between softly teasing her with his tongue, and keeping an eye out the window.  As he deeply inhaled her scent, something caught his eye and he turned to behold a black and white striped figure moving through the edges of the woods.  It seemed to be a large white tiger, nude save for a belt pack.  He watched carefully until the Tiger was well out of sight in the woods.  “Did you see that”? he whispered.  Sylvia smiled; “that’s just Mr. Van Ankat; he’s one of our long term guests.  He likes to go hiking at night…….”  The lion nodded and shrugged, returning his attention to nuzzling between her breasts……. 

The storm broke at about 2 in the morning; the flashes of lightning coming through the window illuminating the couple in the throes of lovemaking, the peals of thunder drowning out their cries of pleasure. 

He awoke with a start.  Sometime during the night they’d moved from the floor by the window to the bed.  Probably when the rain had been coming down so hard they couldn'’ see the edge of the veranda’s roof, let alone his cabin.  Of course it had still been a while before they’d fallen asleep.  He smiled, and shook his head; he hadn’t slept that well in ages.  “might have a cure there for the nightmares” he thought; “and if so, Oh, what a cure!”  Looking around he realized she was gone, only a trace of her scent lingering.  It took a moment for him to find his shorts and his shirt.  The knife went back into the sheath at the nape of his neck, and the pistol went into the right hand cargo pocket of his shorts, the barrel sliding through a hole in the inside of the pocket to rest coldly against his right thigh.  It made a bulge in his pocket, but was not obviously a weapon……. 

Again, he tried to bring some order to his mane as he moved quietly down the stairs into the main portion of the Lodge.  “Shoulda seen if she had any brushes in her room” he thought belatedly.  Finding his way to the dining room, he found a seat where he could watch the doors, and when the waitress came by, ordered a hearty breakfast.  “Bet she’s busy with the thousand and one details running this place forces on her” he thought as he sipped a cup of coffee.  Shaking his head, he wondered if he was watching for York, or for Sylvia.  He was sitting there when a rather striking Raccoon fem entered the lodge, and hurried up to the front desk; “Have you seen Mr. York?” she inquired breathlessly.  The desk clerk shook her head; “No Ma’am, I haven’t seen him today; is there a problem?”  The raccoon lady bit her lip and looked around; “He left our cabin last night; he seemed upset.  He never returned……”  The desk clerk nodded; “I’ll ask around and see if anyone’s seen him.” 

The lion finished his breakfast, and signing the bill with name and cabin number, padded over to the front desk; “As I understand it, the only way off the island is by Captain Fletcher’s seaplane, or by the resort’s launch.”  The desk clerk nodded.  The lion smiled but as he turned to leave, the desk clerk said; “Ah, sir, there’s an envelope here for you”.  Taking the evelope he sniffed at it, and then nodded his thanks to the desk clerk and left the lodge, heading for the lagoon. 

Sylvia looked curiously at the desk clerk; “and he asked you what?  And there was an envelope for him?  That is curious.  See if you can find Rale and Lucas and have them scout around for Mr. York.  I think I’d best go find our Captain Mosby…..” 

The rabbit children were playing at the water’s edge, dashing this way and that, yelling and generally behaving as children do.  Their father was snoozing in the sun, his wife reading a book and keeping one eye on the children’s antics.  The lion watched them for a while, a smile on his face.  As he watched, the elderly rabbit moved up beside him.  The lion spoke without turning his head to look at the rabbit; “Ah to be that young again, eh, Hank?”  The rabbit just grunted.  “York’s missing” the lion continued.  “Yeah, I know” the rabbit muttered.  “While you were entertaining our host last night, he took one of the sailboats and skipped out.”  “In the storm” the lion asked, aghast.  The rabbit just nodded and started to turn away, as if a casual conversation between strangers had just run its course.  Pausing, he turned back; “you left your SMG on the dock last night.”  The lion nodded; “It would have been awkward to have taken it.  I figured I could retrieve it today, if need be.”  The rabbit made a sound of disgust; “I put it back in your room for you.  You should be more carefull than that.  Thought I taught you better…..”  As the rabbit turned and strode off, the lion grinned; “Thank you, Sergeant Major…….” 

As he stood there, looking out at the lagoon, and the playing children, the lion retrieved the envelope from his pocket.  Using a claw to slit it open, he removed the contents and started to read.  As he read, a broad smile formed on his face. 

Sylvia found him standing there by the lagoon.  “Mr. York’s missing” she said simply.  The lion nodded; “I’m told that last night, during the storm, he borrowed one of your sailboats.  I suspect that after leaving this envelope for me, he felt that perhaps I might seek further….. punitive damages against him, and that a rapid departure would be prudent.  Nothing could have been further from the truth, but I doubt he would have listened had anyone told him that.  Sylvia took the envelope and thumbed through its contents; “Good LORD!  This is a fortune!”  The lion smiled; “good help doesn’t come cheap.  I suspect that if you contact the folks across the way, they’ll know where your sailboat is.”  Sylvia nodded; “I’ll send Lucas with the launch to go retrieve it.”  Turning she looked at him; “I guess this means you can relax now?”  The lion just shrugged; “I guess.  I do figure I can go finish that bottle now, at least.”  Sylvia smiled and turned to go find her son. 

The elderly rabbit looked up as the lion walked over to him.  Without a word he took the proffered envelope.  He went through the contents without comment, or outward sign of emotions; when done, he looked up at the lion.  “Please see to the disbursement of funds, Sergeant Major” the lion rumbled, and with the answering nod of the rabbit, he turned and limped slowly towards his cabin. 

He was sitting on the veranda of the main lodge, just enjoying the view, and the quiet.  The bottle barely held a centimeter of amber fluid.  Lucas had returned with the resort’s launch, and tying it off quickly had dashed straight past him into the lodge.  He could hear the buzz of conversation, but didn’t care.  Whatever it was, it couldn’t be important, he thought.  After a few minutes Sylvia came through the door.  She was wearing her sarong, and to his befuddled mind, looked like a dream.  She looked at him strangely for a minute, and then said; “They found Mr. York.  His boat must have capsized in the storm, and they found his body tangled in the rigging, drowned.  It took a few minutes for the meaning to sink in, and he shook his head sadly; “stupid, stupid, stupid.  There was no need for him to do that.”  Looking up at her, he took another swig from the bottle, finishing it.  Holding her eyes with his, he said; “but there are those that will not mourn his passing, and I can’t say as I will either.”  Sylvia just sighed and turned to pass through the doors into the Lodge. 

Two days later the seaplane was again at the dock.  The rabbit children were milling about, yelling excitedly.  The elderly rabbit was again haggling with Kari about fares, but this time it was the lion that was holding the youngest rabbit.  Sylvia had, as always come to see her guests goodbye.  After bidding the others farewell, she approached John Mosby.  He smiled soflty; she seemed to be having trouble meeting his eyes.  “I’m sorry I brought so many problems to your resort, Sylvia; you know that wasn’t my intention.  And you know I had nothing to do with York’s death.  You KNOW where I was that night.  Still, I’m sorry”  She nodded and raised her eyes to his; “and what will you do now, John?”.  He turned to look out over the lagoon; “I never really realized how much I missed this place, until I returned.  I’m getting a bit old for this line of work; I think I might just come back here, when everything’s settled.  I’m afraid you might just see me again one of these days.……”  She smiled and rose on tiptoes to kiss him softly; “I think I’d like that……” 

As the aircraft reached cruise altitude, the lion settled back into his seat, and with the ability of old soldiers everywhere, was quickly asleep.