Kari jumped when the radio squawked at her.  Normally it was pretty quiet, once she'd departed the airport and was out over the open ocean.  Just the drone of the engines and the occasional passenger asking a question....  This time, the air traffic controller had not only called her, but had directed her to turn left to a new heading, without explanation.  When she asked what the problem was she was told that the police wanted her to land at the Fairport harbor, for her passengers and her aircraft to be inspected.  That was all the information they had, the air traffic controller said, but then, after a cough, he mentioned that there was a flight of F21 Gryphons in the area to make sure that all civilian aircraft complied...... 

Captain John Mosby felt the seaplane turn under him, and looking out the window, it took a fraction of a second to determine that they were no longer headed for the island of Freedom's run, the WaterWings resort, his schooner and home.  Releasing his seatbelt, he padded the length of the seaplane, to knock on the cockpit door.  Sticking his head into the cramped flight deck, he looked at the compass, and then at Kari.  "Whats up?" he rumbled.  The fennec vixen shrugged; "Don't know; we've been ordered to land for a police inspection, but that's all they'd say....."  At that moment, the seaplane was rocked as an F21 rocketed past them on either side, moving at least three times as fast as they were going.  John just shrugged; "maybe they've heard about the way you've been flying..."  He ducked even before the vixen had started her good natured swing at him.  Padding back to his seat, he wondered to himself if they'd heard about the little affair in Kozakistan...... but then he figured there was no way that could have filtered out yet.  And besides the Freelands government probably wouldn't care in the least, even if they DID know....  It must be someone else they're after, he finally concluded. 

Kari set the seaplane down in the harbor, each bounce as they landed making her think of John's teasing.  When the wingtip pontoons were wet and the water rudder was taking hold, she taxied to the police dock.  There must have been a half dozen uniformed officers standing on the dock, watching, with another team swarming over a private seaplane, an old Osprey.  After pulling alongside the dock, the police moving efficiently to tie up the seaplane, Kari killed both engines and moved to the back of the plane to open the hatch.  Curiously, John, who usually helped in such actions, appeared to be asleep....  Stepping out onto the dock, Kari was met by a furr who identified himself as Inspector Beddows.  Beddows was a rather large and apparently grumpy brown bear, who looked harried and overworked.  "Sorry to pull you in like that, Ma'am" he growled.  "Wouldn't have done it if it wasn't necessary.  We've gotten a tip that some major criminals, the Osceola gang, are moving into this area. What they're up to, why they're here we don't know yet, but if we can lay our paws on them...... well, we need to search your aircraft, make sure they're not sneaking into the Happenstance islands that way.  Kari nodded and gestured to the seaplane's hatch; "Help yourself.  You say you don't know why they're here?"  Beddows gestured to a couple of constables, who promptly moved towards the hatch.  "No ma'am.  We know its something big, though.  The rumor is that Ziggy, the head of the gang, has come himself.  Its either some sort of high level gangland meeting, or there's a very big deal in the process." 

In the seaplane, the constables moved down the center isle, looking closely at the passengers.  They peeked into the cockpit, and then turned, again scrutinizing the passengers as they walked back.  One took a long look at John, who watched back through slitted eye, still pretending to be asleep.  Finally the constable grunted and left, climbing out through the hatch. 

After poking through the baggage compartment in the nose, the constables gave the all clear sign to Beddows.  He turned to Kari; "OK, Ma'am, you can go, but please let us  know if you spot anything suspicious."  Kari nodded and turned to climb in through the hatch, as the constables undid the mooring ropes.  A short while later they were back in the air.  After a bit, John again moseyed up to the cockpit; "OK, so it wasn't your flying they were concerned about; what WERE they looking for?"  Kari shrugged; "some crooks; the Osceola gang, and their boss, Ziggy.  Supposed to be in this area for purposes unknown...."  John just grunted; "Never heard of any of them, but if they're going to those lengths to find them, must be important."  Shrugging it off, John returned to his seat, to catch what sleep he could before the seaplane touched down at WaterWings. 

John was the only passenger departing at WaterWings, so he just leapt from the hatch to the dock, not bothering to help Kari tie the plane up.  She had other passengers to deliver elsewhere and wanted to be off before an approaching storm system arrived.  "Give Sylvia my Love" she called from the hatch.  John waved bye, waiting to watch her taxi out before turning, to padd down the dock to Rusty, his schooner.  The approaching storm had his joints aching and his limp was a little more pronounced than usual.  As he climbed aboard, he let his eyes rove over the trim motor yacht at anchor further out in the lagoon.  Every bit as big as Rusty, it looked powerful and ostentatious.  "Got some money there" he thought to himself.  Tossing his bag on his bunk, he checked the fridge for a cold brew, only to discover he was out.  "Oh well" he thought; "Good excuse to go up to the main lodge and say hello".  Climbing the companionway to the deck, he looked at the sky and sighed.  It was going to blow.  Maybe blow bad.  It was hurricane season after all, and there was a tropical storm approaching.  Might be a hurricane by the time it got here..... 

John padded up the beach to the main lodge.  In the gathering gloom, the place looked deserted and forbidding.  Opening the front door and moving into the lobby, he noticed one guest sitting on a sofa, reading the paper.  Leaning over the main desk, he checked his box for messages.  As he was doing so, the guest called out; "Resort's closed.  No rooms."  John raised an eyebrow at that, but shrugged; "seen Ms. Slipsunder?"  The guest, a rather nattily dressed ferret, lowered the paper and regarded him for a moment before saying; "She's not here".  John chuckled, and shook his head; "any idea when she'll be back."   Again the ferret looked at him for a moment and then shook his head; "Don't know". 

John's ears swiveled as he heard voices; there seemed to be several furrs in the lodge's small bar, just off the lobby, and he turned in that direction, thinking he might at least get the cold brew he came for.  A coyote stood behind the bar, watching him.  There was a bear seated at the bar, staring intently into his drink.  Further down the bar was a rather beautiful lady mink.  From the way she moved, John got the impression she was rather drunk, what the nautical folks called "three sheets to the wind".  As he stepped up to the bar, the coyote growled; "Resort's closed."  John smiled; "then what are you doing here?"  The bear, without looking up, growled; "we're guests."  John, still smiling, turned to him; "but if the resort's closed......"  The coyote snarled; "Look, wise guy, we've rented the whole resort for the month.  No rooms available, so why don't you just shove off?"  John turned back, his smile a little more rigid; "I'm not looking for a room, I'm just looking for Ms. Slipsunder, and, if possible, a cold beer.  The mink smiled at that; "Give him a beer, Eddie."  The coyote scowled, but the bear shrugged; "well, if that's all you're here for, sure.  Go ahead and give him a beer, Eddie.  Ms. Slipsunder's out by the boathouse." 

John took the proffered bottle and nodded his thanks.  Turning, he smiled at the lady mink, and padded out, to exit the bar, headed for the front door and the boathouse.  As he was heading out the door, the phone by the bar rang, the big display panel showing it was coming from one of the rooms upstairs.  The Bear at the bar muttered "its HIM."  The Coyote immediately turned and fetched a bottle, one of the high-priced brands, turning back to pour some of the liquor into a glass.  The lady mink said; "I'll take it up" but the ferret sneered; "When he wants you, he'll send for you" stopping her in her tracks.  Taking the drink, the ferret pushed past John, heading for the stairs.  John watched him climb the stairs for a moment and then turned, resuming his trek towards the boathouse. 

James was sitting in a wheelchair at the edge of the boathouse dock as Sylvia tended to one of the small boats tied up there, getting it ready for the coming storm.  John looked at the big tiger crammed into the confines of the wheelchair and just shook his head; "What happened to you?"  James scowled and shrugged; "I was doing a little rock climbing and there was a landslide.  Lucky for me I was expecting an important phone call and had my cellphone with me."  John looked at him for a moment, pondering Sylvia and her family trying to carry a stricken James down from the hills and had to shake his head, doing his best to suppress a smile.  "How bad is it?" he rumbled.   James shrugged; "Greenstick fracture.  The quack who attended me said I have to stay off of it for a month.  I'm SUPPOSED to stay off it for a month....  However, I have no intention of letting something this.... rediculous slow me down!  I WILL be up and about much sooner than thatif for no other reason than to prevent myself from going stir crazy!...."  John just nodded, thinking "you and everyone else around you....." 

By then Sylvia had returned, joining the two felines.  "Looks like a bad storm coming, John.  I don't like the looks of the weather radar image on the net at all.  You going to keep Rusty here, or take her out to sea?"  John chuckled; "by myself?  I think I'll moor her here out in the lee of Buck's Rump.  Rusty might not make it, but MY chances are a lot better...."  Looking up at the sky, and then down at Sylvia he grinned;  "But first, I'd like to get something to eat, and maybe another beer, if that's not too much to ask...."  Sylvia smiled; "Oh, I think we can find something to accommodate you...."  With that, they headed back towards the lodge, John pushing James' wheelchair, much to the big Tiger's disgust. 

John bounced James' wheelchair up the steps to the porch in front of the grand lodge, eschewing the rather distant ramp.  James growled; "do you HAVE to do that?  I'm perfectly capable of handling this thing myself!"  John just chuckled, bouncing James over the sill plate and through the Lodge's front door; "Yeah, but that would only delay both of us in getting a cold beer, and I'm in no mood to wait!"  "Dammit, I am NOT a cripple" James snarled; "I can DO this myself!"  John just grinned and shrugged, releasing the chair, letting him coast.  James grabbed the rims of the wheels, bringing himself to a stop, swiveling to snarl at the lion; "you have NO idea how....... Humiliating and frustrating this is!  John just grinned and shook his head, one paw rubbing absently at a scar high up on his thigh; "Oh, I think I can imagine....." 

As they entered the lodge, the ferret was coming back down the stairs.  Nodding to the lady mink, he muttered; "he wants you."  The lady rose and hurried up the stairs, swaying a little.  John watched her climb the stairs, admiring the way her ass moved under her tight dress, and then his attention was snapped back as Sylvia started to introduce her "guests".  As they talked about the local fishing, they were startled by a scream from upstairs.  The Bear was briefly seen forcing the mink down the hall, one arm twisted up behind her back.  Roughly he shoved her into a door by the head of the stairs, locking the door behind her.  Sylvia's face showed her concern and as she moved too the foot of the stairs, onehand moving to rest on the lower end of the banister.   "Whats wrong?" she called up to the bear.  The Bear looked a bit embarrassed; turning, he padded down the stairs slowly, rumbling; "The lady has a bit of a problem.  She drinks too much.  I'm afraid she's had more than one too many, and has started seeing things.......  Its best if she spends some time alone, to calm down, I think."  Sylvia glanced up the stairs and then back at the Bear, as if not knowing what to think.... 

John quietly pushed a muttering James into the kitchen, with Sylvia showing up a moment later.  As they made sandwiches, Sylvia mentioned that the Bear and the lady Mink showed up first, about a week ago.  John howled as James got his revenge, running one wheel of the wheelchair over the lion's foot, as he propelled himself towards the refrigerator, in search of the mustard.  Sylvia smiled and continued, telling how business had been slack as it was the off season, and when he offered to rent the entire resort for a month, there was no way she could refuse..... especially given the amount of money being offered.  "Mr. Brown and the others showed up a few days later in the yacht" she told them; "He's in room 11, the best suite in the main lodge, but he never comes out....."  John chuckled and looked at James; "sounds kinda funny to me; coming all this way to a fancy resort and then never leaving your room; but, I guess if he doesn't want to be seen, that's his business...."  James just huffed and ignored the implications directed at him by John, concentrating on his sandwich.  Sylvia smiled. 

John was heading towards the front door to the lodge, to go move Rusty to a more secure anchorage when the Bear intercepted him.  "I'd like to apologize for our behavior earlier" he rumbled.  "We came a LONG way to go deep sea fishing, but one guy in our group had to bring the dame.  We'd agreed; just guys, just fishing and maybe a little poker, but this guy, he had to bring the dame.  And she's a lush; she's either drunk, or hung over and arguing or making a play for some other guy right in front of her boyfriend...."  As he talked, he moved closer, until he was almost nose to nose with John.....  "We're all on edge" he continued; "Ready to strangle a certain blonde, and we're sorry if we've been short with you."  John nodded; "its OK, I understand...."  However, he thought back to what Sylvia had said about the Bear and the Mink being the first two to arrive...... 

Before he could escape out the door, Sylvia entered the lobby, a concerned look on her face; "The weather service just upgraded the storm to hurricane status.  The current forcast puts the eye passing about 16 miles to the east of here."  The bear sighed; "and now a storm's on the way.  There goes the fishing......"  John nodded; "I'd best see to my ship...." and ducked through the door. 

As John headed towards Rusty, he saw Bethany, Rale, Lucas and Hardrock working to secure all the resort's small boats, and all the beach furniture; the cabanas and umbrellas and such.  Taking Hardrock aside, he growled over the rising wind; "There's something I don't like about that crowd in the main lodge.  I think that maybe when you and the kids finish, you should take them up to the old bomb shelter, and ride the storm out there.  James and I will stay with them, and your mother here...  I'm probably over-reacting, but I'd much rather know you guys are safe, just in case."  Hardrock looked at the lion for a moment and then nodded; "I'll talk to Sylvia about it" he mumbled. 

John motored Rusty out into the lagoon, to the bouy he'd set in the lee of the little island of Buck's Rump.  He'd gone to great trouble to submerge a caisson, a huge block of concrete there, giving it time to settle.  It was the storm anchor to end all storm anchors, large enough to hold a supertanker.  The bouy supported stainless steel chain, and John shackled Rusty's port and starboard anchor chains to the ring on the bouy, making sure that he had plenty of scope (length), but not so much as that Rusty might wind up aground on Buck's Rump.  Still, steel hulled vessels frequently survive running aground and he wasn't too worried on that account.  The sails he stuffed into the hold, tying down the booms and yard arms.  Making sure the hatch covers were all secure, and that the bilge pumps were switched to "auto", he took one last look around his ship, and then dove over the side, to swim to the beach. 

Sylvia was kind enough to hand him a towel as he came in through the front door of the main lodge.  "On the other hand", John thought to himself with a smile, "maybe she just doesn't want me dripping on the floor....."  A small scene was playing itself out in the lobby and he rubbed his mane quietly as he listened.  "Sir, Please!" an otter in a nautical cap was saying into the house phone; "I KNOW you chartered my ship for the month, but there's a hurricane coming!  I HAVE to take her out to deep water, or I'll loose her!"  He listened for a moment, and then replied; "Sir, I'll refund half your money this instant; you have to understand; that boat is my livelihood!  If she were to be lost, I'd be ruined!"  Something said on the other end of the phone made the otter stiffen, his eyes going wide.  Finally he mumbled "yessir" and hung up the phone.  Turning, he shuffled dejectedly towards the door.  "I'll be on my ship" he mumbled as he went past the Bear." 

John took Sylvia aside; "did Hardrock talk to you?" he whispered.  Sylvia nodded, and whispered back; "I think you're paranoid, but we'll let the kids play up there.  I don't think this storm will be so bad we can't ride it out here."  John just nodded. 

They had finished with the unoccupied cabins and were securing shutters, and setting out hurricane lanterns in the main lodge when the door banged open again, blown open by the wind.  Sylvia went to close it, but paused, staring out at the beach.  "What's wrong?" James called.  He was sitting in his wheelchair in the middle of the lobby, unable to do much to help (although John had volunteered him as a handcart as they tried to set out all the hurricane lanterns).  Sylvia was quiet for a moment and then shook her head; "Harry's boat is out there at the boathouse dock.  He's the local constable, and stops by from time to time.  I wonder where he is, and why he didn't come to the main lodge?"  John just shrugged; "I bet he came to check on the rumor of that Osceola gang being in these parts.  Bet he went up to the shelter, where the kids are."  Sylvia just shrugged and looked thoughtful.  As the preparations for the storm continued, John noticed that the "guests" just sat around, just watching.  He was kinda surprised that they made no move to help.... But then some folks are like that...... 

John was trying to replace the wick in one hurricane lantern, while James was filling the others with kerosene in the lobby when the phone behind the main desk rang.  Before anyone could move, the Bear ambled over and picked it up.  As Sylvia entered from the dining room, the Bear said; "No, she's not here right now....."  With a confused look on her face, she walked over and tapped him on the arm as if to say "here I am...." but the Bear just turned away from her, and said into the mouthpiece; "No, the constable isn't here either....."  Sylvia's face grew concerned and she moved around him, to try and snatch the phone from him, but the Bear turned again, straightening as if to keep it out of her reach.  John scowled, and shot a glance at the little alcove behind the main desk that housed the switchboard, thinking he might be able to pick up an extension, and get to the bottom of whatever was going on, but the ferret was between him and it, looking right at him.  With a gun in his paw.  The Bear spoke again; "No, I'm just a guest here.  There doesn't seem to be anyone else around right now; they must all be getting ready for the storm.  Yes.  Yes, I'll tell her you called." 

As the Bear hung up the phone Sylvia growled; "whats the meaning of this?  How dare you!"  The Bear just smiled, his gaze flicking up to the stairs as a deep voice called out; "He took the call for you because I told him to".  Following the Bear's gaze, and the sound of the voice, everyone else in the room turned to look, the wheels on James' wheelchair squeaking softly as he turned it.  A large male Jaguar was coming down the stairs.  He was wearing black pants and what seemed to be a rather antique smoking jacket, with satin lapels.  The overall image was that of a furr striving to appear sophisticated.  It was almost working.....  After returning everyone's gaze for a moment, the Jaguar smiled.  It was a cold smile, more that of a predator, than of good humor.  "Who was that?" he asked the Bear.  The Bear shrugged; "that was the police Inspector.  He's looking for a constable that may have come this way......  I told him we hadn't seen him" The Bear grinned at that.  "Ms. Slipsunder here wanted the phone, and I wouldn't let her have it.  Hairball there looked like he was about to make trouble, so Teddy showed him his gun...."  The Jaguar nodded.  Looking around, he smiled again; "Don't worry about it folks.  We'll be out of here in a few hours, and you can put up with us for that long."  His smile widening, he asked in a much milder tone of voice; "Now, whats for dinner?" 

Sylvia's mouth opened, although whether for a rebuke or an answer was impossible to tell, for before she could get a word out, a moan was heard in the maid's closet just down the hall.  Sylvia shot a look at James, and then at John, and took a step in that direction, only to be stopped by Eddie, the coyote.  Teddy Grinned and moved behind the coyote, to slip down the hall to the closet; opening the door, he stepped inside, to reappear a moment later, dragging a body behind him.  Sylvia gasped; 'Its Harry, the constable!"  John frowned as he noted the bloodstain at the back of Harry's head; someone had obviously sapped him, knocking him out.  The Bear grinned and shruged; "Sorry boss, but he came nosing around, and I was afraid he recognized me; I had to put him on ice for a while.  Grinning wider, the Bear continued; "Now, with this storm, we can blame his disappearance on that!" 

Harry blearily focused his eyes on the Jaguar..... I know you" he mumbled; "Seen your picture down at the office...."  Turning his head he looked at the Bear; "Yeah.... You too.  You're the Milkeegan gang!"  Turning to look again at the Jaguar, he staggered to his feet; "And you're Maximillian Brown!  We've got outstanding warrants against all you guys!  YOU'RE UNDER ARREST!" 

The coyote chuckled, moving up behind the constable, to bring a beer bottle down on the back of his head.  John winced as it hit the same spot as before, splattering droplets of blood.  Sylvia watched the constable sink to the floor, the eyes rolling back up in his head as he fell.  Her eyes were wide, her mouth open.  Turning to Brown, she growled; "you MONSTER!...." 

John chuckled, a quiet sound, so out of place that it startled everyone; "Sylvia, Mr. Brown may be many things, but he's no "Monster".   He's much too important for that.  Yes, you see, he's a big furr; a very big furr.  Why, he's got his paws into all sorts of things.  The murder and extortion are just tools of his trade.  Robbery, prostitution, and drug smuggling just businesses.....  Why, I bet you'd be surprised how many furrs he employs, how many industries he has an effect on.  Why I bet his operations significantly impact the Gross National Product......"  Brown expanded visibly as he listened to John; "why yes, yes, you're right!  I AM an important furr!......"  Then, as if remembering the line about murder and extortion, his face grew grim, and he turned to John; "And who are you?" 

John smiled and looked down; "Oh, I'm a nobody....  I just run the schooner out there, trading through the outer islands.....  Brown padded a little closer to look at John's face.  "I see you have a limp.... And you've lost an eye....  Were you in the war?"  John just nodded, turning to stare out a window....  "You get any medals?" Brown asked.  John nodded; "A few."  "Brave?" asked Brown.  John smiled slightly; "Not very."  Brown grinned, as if working towards something; 'Then why'd you stick your neck out?"  John just shrugged and shook his head, still staring out the window at the growing storm; "No good reason."  Brown moved closer, almost getting in John's face; 'Then why'd you do it?"  John turned, as if he could no longer utter mild words.  His gaze fastened on Brown's face, some fire appearing in his eyes as he spoke:  "Because I believed some words..."  "What words?" Brown demanded sharply. 

John turned, to resume staring  out the window at the scudding clouds; "they went something like this; "We are not making this sacrifice of human effort and human lives, to return to the kind of world he had after the last war.  We are fighting to cleanse the workd of ancient evils and ancient ills." 

The bear chuckled and shook his head derisively, and Brown just grinned, as if such thoughts were so naive.  After a moment, the coyote looked around; "by the way, where are your kids, Sylvia?"  Brown nodded;  "Yes, where are they?  I think we ought to get them in here.  We need to make sure they're safe from the storm..."  The unspoken message was:  "They might be useful in making sure that you behave until we're gone."  Sylvia turned to Brown a snarl on her face; "They're someplace safe, where they can ride out the storm without being threatened, or held prisoner...."  Brown scowled and signaled the coyote and the ferret to go outside to look for them;  "Bring 'em in, boys, lets put 'em where we can keep an eye on them."  As they turned for the door, Sylvia took a step forward and slugged Brown in the chest; "you MONSTER" she cried as she hit him again, and again, completely ineffectually.  Brown laughed at her assault and with a quick move, pinned her arms to her side, to lean forward and kiss her.  Breaking the kiss, he grinned down at her; "you sure are a wildcat!  I LIKE that..." 

John had taken a step forward, the ferret bringing his gun up as John moved.  For a long moment, everyone was still, waiting to see what would happen.  However, before the situation could degenerate further, to everyone's surprise, the phone on the main desk rang, freezing everyone in place.  The bear looked at it as if it were some alien creature, but with the third ring, he picked it up.  Turning, he looked curiously at Brown; "Boss, its for you!" 

John noted that the coyote and the ferret hung around in the lobby, obviously curious as to what the call was about, not going out into the storm to search for the missing Slipsunder kids.  John reached out and pulled Sylvia to him, protectively, retreating to where James sat in his wheelchair.  From the look on James' face, it was probably just as well he couldn't walk, as for sure, someone'd be dead by now.  "Probably him too", John thought. 

Brown was talking on the phone to someone called Ziggy.  It was obvious this was whomever he had arranged to rendezvous with, and he was becoming increasingly upset that Ziggy was having trouble getting here because of the storm.  "Listen, Ziggy, its only a little wind."  "Yeah."  "Yeah I know that, but for a deal like this, I'd expect you to travel through hell and back."  "Yeah, I know that..."  It was obvious from the look on his face that Brown did NOT like what he was hearing but finally he nodded to what Ziggy was saying, said goodbye and hung up. 

"What's the scoop, Boss?" the bear asked.  Brown shrugged; "Oh, those pansies are afraid of a little wind.  They claim its too rough to get here, but I talked them into trying anyways.  They'll be here; you just wait and see!" 

Brown turned, to look at Sylvia and he smiled; "now, where were we, my little wildcat, before we were so rudely interrupted?"  As he stepped closer to Sylvia, she rose to tiptoes, to spit in his face.  Brown's eyes went wide and he froze, even as John moved, taking Sylvia from behind, to pull her away, turning as he did so, to put himself between him and Sylvia.   Brown took a step as if to follow, and then paused, his face dark as his fur bristled.  The coyote grinned; "Go ahead and slap her, Boss; get it out of your system.  Go ahead, it'll make you feel better."  The Jaguar took another step forward, his fingers curved, his claws fully out.  John released Sylvia, and turned, to look not at Brown, but at the Coyote.  Talking in a surprisingly mild and reasonable voice, he said; "That might be OK for a thug like you, but the Browns of the world, they have to  respond differently, or they wouldn't be the bosses.  No, for him, smacking her isn't enough for such a grave insult.  He'll either have to kill her for it, or demonstrate that she's beneath his contempt and let it go....."  John paused and looked around the room, as if counting noses.  "Given all the witnesses in this room" he continued, I think he'll realize what's at stake and just let it go."  Turning back to look at the Coyote, he shrugged; "you were a witness too, and he couldn't let it get out, if he killed her.  He'd have to kill the witnesses.  ALL the witnesses; but as he needs you at the moment, he can't afford to kill you....."  Turning to look curiously at Brown, John mumbled; "I think he'll have to let it go......" 

Brown stared at the lion for a moment as if considering his words.  He frowned as he realized that he'd been trapped by the logic, and while he didn't like it, that if he did anything else, he would be diminished in the eyes of his followers.  Growling he turned away, to stalk back to the bar. 

The building shook with a gust of wind.  The moaning of the wind was now a constant companion, and John itched to peek from a window, to see how Rusty was faring.  However the situation required that he remain still, appearing cool and calm.  As the storm had intensified, the gangsters had become increasingly nervous.  Brown was pacing the room like a caged animal.  Tensions were rising and a verbal battle was raging between the Bear and the Coyote, when they weren't both yelling at the ferret for laughing at them.  As they waited, James took the occasional opportunity to taunt the gangsters.  John watched in silence, wondering if James was trying to taunt them into fighting each other.  He understood that James had remarkable insight into people, and that James obviously felt that he would know just how far he could push them without provoking retaliation.  John certainly hoped so; a mistake in this arena could prove fatal.  Certainly though, if they could set the gangsters against each other, the odds against them would be diminished; but somehow John didn't see them surviving such a conflict.  Finally James went a touch too far, and the coyote stood over his chair, glowering down at him; "You've got a big mouth for someone who can't back it up.  You think I'm not going to pound on you because you can't fight back?  Don't be so sure, pussy cat!  In fact I think I'm gonna......" 

John shoved himself between the coyote and James.  The coyote snarled, but John just stared him down; "Calm down.  He can't hurt you.  He's just as tense as everyone else is here....."  From behind them Brown chuckled; "the big furr, coming to the poor hurt kittycat's defense.  You think you're such a big tough furr don't you?"  Grinning, Brown reached out to take the pistol from the coyote's paw.  Holding that in his right paw, he tossed John his own pistol with his left.  "Tell you what, Lion.  You want to rid the world of scum like us, there's your chance.  Shoot him.  Shoot ME.  Just know that when you do, I'll shoot you."  Brown grinned at John, fangs showing.  John looked at Brown for a momnt, and then at the gun in his paw.  With a shrug, he tossed it to the seat of a chair.  Looking up at Brown he shrugged; "The world is full of Browns, of thugs like you.  A few more, give or take, isn't worth dying for.  Brown chuckled; "A live war hero.  Well boys, now we know how he did it!"  The rest of the gangsters just laughed as John retreated to one corner, to take a seat. 

Sylvia watched John, aghast.  She could understand him not wanting to die, but to give in to these creeps... She had been sure he had more pride than that.  The Bear chuckled and shook his head; "some hero he is.  In fact, I don't think he's a hero at all; I think he's a coward."  The coyote chuckled and nodded; "Yeah, he's yellow all right...."  John just shrugged; "Why should I care if Brown lives or dies?  You guys will be gone soon, and no longer of no matter to me.  I care only for me and mine, and I fight nobody's battles but my own."  Sylvia sighed in the background as she hugged James, kneeling by his wheelchair. 

Harry watched through slitted eyes.  The constable had regained consciousness a while before, and had been feigning unconsciousness, waiting for an opportunity.  Despite a murderous headache, he lunged off the floor, scooping the pistol from the chair where John had tossed it.  Backing towards the door, Harry growled as all the gangsters turned to look at him.  "All Right" he rasped; "You guys stay just where you are.  I'm going out that door.  While you can stop me, rest assured that you'll die for it....."  Brown watched, an amused look on his face; just as Harry reached the door, one hand on the doorknob, Brown calmly raised the Coyote's pistol and fired. 

Harry staggered back against the door, a growing red stain spreading across his stomach.  His face was filled with pain, but he brought up the pistol, and aiming it at Brown, squeezed the trigger.  The gun went click.  Harry squeezed the trigger again and again, but it was empty.  Brown just laughed and shot him again, the impact from the round slamming Harry backwards through the door.  As the lady mink screamed, Brown stalked to the door, to fire another round into Harry's body. 

Brown chuckled to himself, as if he'd made a grand joke.  Looking up at the Bear and the Coyote, his face became serious and he growled; "OK, you two, drag him out of here, and hid the body somewhere.  Maybe the storm will dispose of it for us.  The Bear and the Coyote exchanged glances as if they didn't really want to venture out into the high winds and driving rain, but in the end, their fear of Brown exceeded their fear of the storm, and they dragged Harry's body out into the storm, staggering against the wind.  It wasn't long before they staggered back through the door, panting, completely soaked.  "Boss its getting pretty bad out there" the bear grumbled, and the coyote nodded his agreement .  They sat in silence, Brown still pacing back and forth, as the sound of the storm grew louder. 

They all jumped again as the phone rang.  Brown answered it himself, listening for a minute.  When he spoke his voice was full of rage; "Now listen Ziggy!  I've risked a lot coming here!  I've taken extraordinary measures to bring the shipment to where you could pick it up!  I don't care how bad the storm is, its only a storm!  There are plenty of guys out there who would risk their necks for a deal like th..... Hello?  HELLO?"  With a growl, Brown slammed the handset down so hard the noise of cracking plastic could be heard above the storm.  Sylvia smiled; "Bet the microwave tower went down in the wind.  Happens every hurricane......."  The ferret looked at Brown; "are they coming, Boss?"  Brown growled, but didn't give an answer...... 

After a while, the lady Mink rose and moved towards the bar.  Brown caught her arm and stopped her; "Thought I said no booze!" he growled.  She looked at him with liquid eyes; "Aw please Max.  I'll be good, I promise!"  The bear chuckled; "what a lush.  Look at her.  You would never have known she was once the toast of the town.  Why every club in the city wanted her to sing there.  She had talent, and style, and just look at her now!"  Brown chuckled and nodded; "yes, she had a voice that could make you purrrrr.  Tell you what; you sing for us now, and I'll give you that drink."  She looked at him, fear in her eyes; "you mean..... sing here?  Right now?  Without any accompaniment?"  Brown nodded, his eyes eager and bright as he teased her.  Looking uncertainly at Brown, she whispered; "Can I at least have the drink first?"  He just grinned and shook his head no.  Groaning, she returned to her seat where she sat for a moment.  Finally as if talking to herself, she mumbled; "OK, I'll do it."  Standing, she moved to the end of the bar.  She started tentatively, and as she sang, John thought he could detect the remnants of a great voice there.  But now the song was harsh and guttural, and faltering.  The song was well suited to her condition, mournful and sad, and it was obvious she was pouring what little talent she retained into it.  Finally the song ended and with downcast eyes she turned to the bar.  Brown however grabbed her and thrust her back towards her seat.  She looked up at him with pleading eyes; "but you said....."  He growled; "you didn't sing well enough to deserve a drink.  Now go Sit Down!"  Turning, she padded back to her seat, to put her head down on the table, crying softly. 

John watched and then shook his head.  After a moment, he rose, padding over to the bar, to take a bottle out of the startled hands of the Bear.  Carefully, he filled a waterglass almost to the brim, and turning, he padded over to place it on the table in front of the mink.  She looked up in wonder, first at the glass and then at John.  "Thank you" she whispered.  As John turned to sit down, he came face to face with Brown.  Before he could blink, Brown slapped him hard across the face, then backhanded him and then slapped him again, the lion's head rocking with each blow.  Brown glared at him, as if daring him to do anything.  John blinked, waiting for his vision to clear, and after looking at Brown, he turned back to the mink to mutter; "you're welcome."  Moving back to his seat, the lion sat down quietly, looking at no one. 

The building shook once again, under the assault of the wind.  This gust was hard enough to knock a picture from the wall, its glass shattering as it hit the floor.  Brown stopped his pacing, to glare at the fallen picture.  His gaze then shifted to Sylvia.  "How bad can it get?" he demanded.  Sylvia smiled at his obvious fear; "why, a few years back, there was a hurricane that sent a tidal wave over an island not too far from here.  Scoured it clean.  Eight hundred furrs washed out to sea."  Sylvia grinned at the fear reflected in Brown's face, and James picked up on it; "Come now, Mr. Brown.  Surely you're not afraid of a little wind, a little water?  Why don't you go outside and show the storm your gun.  Why don't you threaten to shoot it, or to beat it up if it doesn't go away?  Why don't you go show it what a big tough furr you are?"  Brown snarled wordlessly back at James and resumed his pacing.  James grinned at Sylvia and just chuckled. 

As they sat, waiting out the storm, Sylvia moved over to where John was sitting, to whisper; "I'm sorry.  When I saw you throw down the gun, I thought you were a coward, but now I see how your head tells you one thing, and your heart, your whole life drives you to do other things.  Please forgive me.  John just shrugged; "no problem" he mumbled, his gaze turning back to the pacing Brown, watching the jaguar jump as another gust of wind rocked the building, making glasses fall from the shelves behind the bar.  Sylvia followed his gaze and smiled.  Raising her voice, she said; "You know, there wasn't a building left standing on that island after the tidal wave.  Only the foundation of the town hall.  And it was only about thirty miles from here.  Why they were finding the bloated bodies of the drowned for a month afterwards, washed up on the shores."  James chuckles and nods; "perhaps God will send a tidal wave to scour this island clean, just to clean out the filth....."  Brown growled and turned to James; "Shut up, you,  or wheelchair or no, I'll pound you to a pulp!"  The words had no sooner left his mouth, when another gust, a stronger one shook the building, and the sound of breaking wood was heard.  Suddenly one wall of the lobby caved in, as a tree fell against the building.  One branch came straight in through the window, almost striking the startled Bear.  A second gust, stronger than the first shook the building, and the lights flickered and went out. 

John and Sylvia cuddled in a corner, by James' wheelchair, and in the dark, the flashes of lightning their only illumination, they waited out the storm.  Finally, after what must have been hours, but seemed like an eternity, the wind was down to a dull roar, and it was gradually growing light outside.  John could resist no longer and he rose, to move across the darkened room, all eyes following him, to peer through a hurricane shutter.  The wind was still severe, blowing rain horizontally, but it was clear enough for him to see the object of concern.  Letting out a breath of relief, he studied the dark form of Rusty, still riding at her moorings, the ship rocking visibly in the rough sea.  It took a moment for him to realize that the Yacht was  gone.  "Not surprised" he thought to himself; "but that's gonna cause problems......"  As he peered though the shutters, he felt the bear move up behind him, to look.  Sure enough, the bear picked up on it right away and called out; "Hey Boss!  The Yacht's gone!  That bastard skipped out on us! 

Brown moved across the room, to shove John and the Bear out of his way.  Staring out the window, Brown exclaimed; "That Son of a Bitch.  He's Dead!  I told him what would happen to him if he left!"  "Now what we gonna do, Boss?" the coyote growled.  "It won't be long before the law comes looking for that constable......"  The jaguar nodded, and then smiled; "No problem, we'll just get our war hero here to take us in his sailboat."  John growled; "the hell I will....."  Brown just laughed and brought his pistol up to point it in the general direction of James and Sylvia.  John grunted and shook his head; "I get your point; you win." 

The Bear and the Coyote climbed the stairs to retrieve the luggage.  Brown continued to stare out the window, watching the wind, and the tossing waves.  Sylvia gave him a glance and then moved to whisper to John; "when you leave the building duck around to the left.  If you move fast, you can escape into the woods before they come around the corner after you."  John just sighed; "I know you could slip out the back and escape too, but with James in the wheelchair, they'd catch him and just use him as a hostage to force my return.  That won't work, but thanks." 

Sylvia heard it first, her head turning towards the window.  James caught it next, his head turning to follow Sylvia's.  Then the others heard it; the sound of an aircraft, the scream of jet engines.  It came in low over the waves; dangerously low, given the weather conditions.  But John supposed they were trying to evade radar.  By the time the tiltrotor landed on the beach in front of the main lodge, bobbing and weaving in the forceful gusts, they were all on the porch watching.  A large black panther emerged, wrapped in a trenchcoat against the storm.  Bending low he made his way to the main lodge where he and Brown hugged each other in friendly greeting.  "I knew you'd make it, Ziggy!" Brown cried.  Ziggy nodded; "Yeah, but it wasn't easy.  If it wasn't the storm, it was the cops!  Now lets see this shipment; I gotta get out of here before they come snooping after us!"  Brown and the others retreated into the lobby, where the bear brought out a metal case.  Opening it, Ziggy handed a stack of bills to one of his men.  This fur, a weasel, took out a magnifying loupe, and looked at one of the bills, selected at random from the stack.  "Hmmmm.  Good crisp image.  Portrait looks good.  Crosshatching looks good.  Security stripe in the right place.  Paper feels good.  Yeah, if this isn't real cash, it's the best counterfeiting I've ever seen.  It'll do, Boss."  Ziggy grinned and pullled a large envelope from the inside of his trenchcoat.  Brown purrred as he thumbed through the stack of large denomination bills, counting carefully.  Finally, looking up, he grinned at Ziggy; "A pleasure doing business with you, as always!"  The two grinned and talked about old times as Brown walked Ziggy back to his aircraft.  Moments later, Ziggy was airborne, obviously buffetted by the still violent winds as they rose into the lead-grey sky. 

Hardrock and the other Slipsunder kids watched from the bushes.  On their way down from the shelter, they'd found Harry's body, not very cleverly hidden.  Determined to watch in case they were "needed", they had crept as close as they dared. 

The bear and the coyote resumed their role as porters, bringing down suitcases and bags from the rooms on the second floor.  As the luggage piled up in the lobby, the lady Mink became increasingly agitated, and when the Bear pushed the cart towards the dock, she turned to Brown, a look of panic in her eyes, to ask in a trembling voice where her bags were.  Brown just chuckled; "My dear, I'm afraid you're not going with us.  I think it would be much better if you stayed here."  Her eyes widened and she flung herself at him, pawing at him and crying; "Oh, no, Max, please no!  I promise I'll be good, I'll stop drinking, just please take me with you!"  Brown's face formed a look of disgust and he shoved her away, rudely, propelling her hard up against John.  With a sneer Brown turned and stalked towards the dock.  Just before he left, he turned to look at Sylvia; "Oh, yeah, tell me, lady, whats the damage?  Sylvia blinked, looking around at the storm swept building.  Brown chuckled; "Oh never mind."  Pulling a thick wad of currency from his pocket he tossed it through the open front door of the lodge; "That should cover it."  And with that, he turned, to stalk after his thugs. 

The mink sobbed in John's arms for a few moments, until Brown was out of earshot.  Then, darting a look at him as he stalked towards the dock, she looked up at John; "Thanks kiddo, and good luck; here you might need this."  And with that, she pressed Brown's pistol into John's hands.  "Lifted it from his pocket while begging him to let me go.  Knew he wouldn't take me and at this point I'm just as glad.  Now you be careful out there; I doubt they intend for you or your ship to ever be seen again."  John just nodded and pocketed the gun.  "Thanks" was all he said as he moved to follow in their wake, heading for the dock. 

The Bear had piled all the luggage in the resort's launch, and they motored out to the schooner.  After they'd transferred the luggage, the bear insisted that they take the launch, "just in case", and John reluctantly tied it off the stern.  Brown disappeared belowdecks almost immediately, leaving John with the bear, the coyote and the ferret on deck.  Slipping the hawsers to the buoy, John let the wind blow the schooner back into the lagoon, before using the auxiliary to point her towards open water.  Looking back over his shoulder as they rounded Buck's Rump, he saw Sylvia standing on the dock, watching. 

John set the jib and a reefed mainsail, knowing that the winds were still too rough for more canvas.  The schooner bounced in the rough seas and it wasn't long before the ferret was stretched out over the stern rail, retching into the sea, deathly seasick.  The other two didn't look too good either and after a while, the bear told John to head for Barovia, and then went below.  John watched him, thinking that they'd have no way of knowing if he was heading for Barovia, or Kozakistan...  and accordingly turned the schooner to a heading that maximized its pitching and rolling.  After a while, he locked the wheel, engaging the winvane autopilot, and puttered about the deck, trying to look busy. 

Sylvia sat down before the lodge's radio.  Hardrock and Lucas had gotten the generator running again, and with that, she prepared herself to call the police, to relate what had happened.  With a wicked grin, the lady mink sat down next to her; "Might as well tell them about Ziggy and his gang too" she purrrred.  "And I bet I know where they're headed next..." 

John had made some coffee, in the tiny galley on the schooner.  "Funny" he thought to himself with a grin; "no one else seems to want any...."  As he sipped his mug, he turned on the radio.  There was a lot of talk about storm damage, and interrupted public services, but after a few minutes, the announcer mentioned the hijacking of the schooner Reliant.  The hijackers were to be considered armed and dangerous, and anyone seeing the vessel should report it immediately to the police, or the nearest defense forces base. 

The Bear looked at Brown, as he reclined in the master's cabin.  "Tough about your Lady, boss....."  Brown just grinned; "I think she'd outlived her usefulness, at least in that respect."  The Bear shook his head; "you realize, boss, that she's likely to be so pissed she'll tell the police everything she knows....."  Brown grinned wider and nodded; "Oh, I know, I know, but you see, what she knows about our operations is mostly false.  On the other hand, what she knows about Ziggy's operations......."  The Bear grinned wickedly and stretched out in the corner, to try and get some sleep. 

Returning to the deck, John found the ferret still hanging over the rail, the coyote standing next to him looking bored.  Moving forward he adjusted the sails, not to gain them better speed, but for what he had in mind.  There was no way the goons would understand the significance of increasing the tension on the main boom downhaul, and slacking off the mainsail halyard.  Returning to the quarterdeck, he pretended to check their course, looking at the chart and the satnav readout.  Nodding to himself, John moved to disconnect the windvane autopilot, and then returned to the helm.  Looking about, he suddenly spun the wheel, the schooner turning into the wind.  The sails cracked as he loosed the jib sheet, pulling on the opposite sheet, tugging the jib to the opposite side of the ship, letting it catch the wind, to pull the ship's  head around.  Of course, the mainsail followed suit, the main boom, a long pole of wood as thick around as John's thigh, sweeping the deck, as the wind pushed the sail to the other side of the ship.  John, of course, knew what was coming, and ducked.  The coyote wasn't so fortunate.  Standing up, going "Wha....?", the boom caught the coyote nicely at about shoulder level.  He vanished overboard with a splash.  The seasick ferret straightened, pulling his pistol, to fire a wild shot at John.  The bullet grazed his ribs on the left side, and he bit back a curse at the sudden shock of pain.  Steadying himself, John raised Brown's pistol in a two handed grip and shot back, hitting the ferret in the chest, knocking him over the stern as well. 

John sprang to the roof of the deckhouse, grunting again at the pain in his side, even as Brown and the Bear yelled from below, demanding to know what was going on.  John remained silent, focused on the companionway.  Sure enough, the bear came boiling up from below, a pistol in his paw.  John shot him in the back of the neck, driving him down hard onto the deck. 

Brown was behind the bear and saw him go down.  He'd discovered the absence of his pistol and realized what the mink had done.  Looking up, he realized that John was on the deck house roof. But the roof was made of steel, reinforced to take the occasional wave that might sweep the deck of the schooner.  Shooting at the lion above might be more hazardous to Brown than to his target.  Looking about, Brown realized that the portholes were too small for him to squeeze through.  The only exit was the companionway.....  He was trapped. 

"Hey Lion!" Brown called; "How about a deal?  You and me, 50 / 50.  I'll make you rich!  What do you say?"  John crouched quietly on top of the deckhouse, one paw pressed hard to his side.  He was bleeding.  Not badly, but he wasn't exactly happy with it either.  He heard Brown call, but ignored him.  He didn't want to make any deals with the likes of him...... 

Brown couldn't even pace; the space belowdecks was too limited.  Finally he went to the companionway and growled.  "Tell you what, Lion, I'll give it all to you, just take me to Barovia.  Whatta you say?"  Again, John was quiet, just watching.  Brown listened for a minute and wondered if something had happened.  The ferret had fired his gun; maybe he was dead; maybe he bled to death, or fell overboard....  Returning to his cabin, Brown retrieved another pistol from the Bear's suitcase.  Moving back to the companionway, he tossed out the bear's gun; "there, I'm unarmed!  Don't shoot, I'm coming out! 

John watched Brown's head appear, as he emerged from below.  Without emotion, he shot Brown as he turned, looking, trying to find where John was hiding.  The Jaguar gasped and collapsed on the deck, struggling to rise, to bring his gun to bear.  Walking aft on the deckhouse, John stared down at Brown, to fire again, and then a third time, making sure the gangster was dead. 

John staggered to the wheel, to bring the ship around, heading it back towards the Happenstance islands, Freedom's run, and WaterWings.  It took a while to trim the sails, each motion making him gasp with pain, making his side bleed worse.  Finally he set the autopilot and staggered below, to the radio.  "Mayday, Mayday, this is KAPN 9430, the schooner Resurgent.  I'm returning towards home port, two dead on board, two overboard, one probably dead, and I require medical attention.  Any station, this is KAPN 9430, Mayday, Mayday....... 

Sylvia raised her head as the radio crackled to life.  She'd been waiting in an easy chair, near the radio, waiting for some word.  As she listened a smile, cold at first, and gradually warming, spread across her face.  Rising she left the lodge, to find James and the children, to tell them the news.