Zig Zag is Copyright © Max Black Rabbit. Sabrina, Darke Katt and R.C. are Copyright © Eric W. Schwartz. James Sheppard, Marvin Badger, Rhonda Badger, Yohni, Alexi, Michael, Esteban, Mia, Wanda Vixen and Tamara Rabbit are Copyright © James Bruner. Alex O'Whitt is © Tigermark. The B-Team is © Silver Coyote. Jean LeBrun, Gabrielle Ryder, Timothy Bigglesworth-Farthington von Salzburg, Malcolm Grazer, Doctor Fox Jones, Peter Spermophilus, Miranda Spermophilus, Dina Spermophilus, Leo Leon, Miriam Redtail, Lizzy Doe, Emma Grey, Professor Moose Nicholson, Professor Erica Belge and Pethouse Magazine is © Joan Jacobsen, 2005. All other characters appearing in this story, except where otherwise specifically noted, are likewise © Joan Jacobsen.
Legal Notice: This story is Copyright © 2005 by Joan Jacobsen. This story may not be sold or used for commercial profit in any form or fashion. This story may not be modified in any way. This story may not be posted on a mirror site or any other Internet site without the written permission of the author. This story may not be distributed on print, magnetic, electrical or optical mediums.
Permission to use characters that are Copyright other individuals was obtained prior to the appearance of said characters.
The author, Joan Jacobsen, hereby asserts moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This is an independent work of fiction with no connection whatsoever to Max Black Rabbit, Eric W. Schwartz, E.S. Productions or James Bruner and is in no way meant to imply any connection with Max Black Rabbit, Eric W. Schwartz, E.S. Productions, or James Bruner. This story contains characters created by Max Black Rabbit, Eric W. Schwartz, James Bruner, Tigermark and Silver Coyote. Events and characters occurring in this story should not be considered part of the storylines for either 'Zig Zag', 'Sabrina Online' or 'Sabrina Online - The Story'.
In fact, as far as 'Zig Zag', 'Sabrina Online', 'Sabrina Online - The Story' and 'Zig Zag the Story' are concerned, this story does not exist. The artists disavow any knowledge of and do not officially sanction the events in this story.er nodded. "I'm sure."
Plot-hatching
"Lieutenant Miranda here," Miranda said, picking up the phone. She smiled widely. "Oh, hey there Jean. Ow...what happened to you? You sound like...ohhh shit, you're not kidding?"
She blinked and shook her head, listening in increasing disbelief at everything Jean said. She was back at her regular desk in Columbus, and frankly enjoying it. The exchange with the Cincinnati precinct had been a learning experience but not one she cared to repeat for a long time.
"I had no idea. Good fucking grief...pardon my language, Jean...but honestly, what the Hell is happening to the world? Tell you what, I'll drop by Emma's place when I get off duty, since you say she's moved to Columbus. Can you give me the address. I'm sure she would like to see a friendly face."
After listening some more and taking down the address that Jean gave her on a piece of paper, the squirrel shook her head again, looking tired.
"That's okay. I'm very grateful that you informed me of this. I had no idea. It's not in my precinct, you see. Damned them. Can't they accept court evidence like ordinary, intelligent furs? Anyway, I'll talk to you later, Jean. Give Gabby my best when you see her."
She hung up and got to her feet. Grabbing her leather jacket and strapping her service pistol on, she headed towards Captain Archibald's office with long strides. She was already starting to fume. She had been a cop for years, but she had never seen a case as open-and-shut as Emma's self-defense killing of Jeremy Mustela before, nor did she expect to see it for many years. There hadn't been a single, solitary shred of evidence to get Emma convicted of murder or even involuntary furslaughter. The most compelling piece of evidence was the fact that every bullet had entered Jeremy's body from a position so low that unless he'd been standing on a stepladder, Emma HAD to be laying on her back on the floor when shooting.
The way the pool of blood that Jeremy had been laying in had been disturbed at the edge, as if Emma had desperately scrambled to get away from the scene, in blind panic, had supported this. The sheer difference of physical strength also made it a clear case of self defense. Jeremy had been a fit, well trained fur. Emma was tiny...and about as muscular as a loaf of bread.
Pushing the door open, she looked in. "Hey, Captain...feel like giving me the rest of the day off, or do I have to tell you I'm going out on patrol?" she asked with a grin.
Captain Archibald looked up over his paperwork, using his horn almost as a rifle's crosshairs to fix his glare on the squirrel in the doorway.
"You're not a beat-cop, Lieutenant," he pointed out. "I assume there's a damned good reason for this?"
Miranda nodded. "Remember that self defense killing I took care of down in Cincinnati?"
Captain Archibald put his papers down and nodded, frowning deeply. "I do. Nasty story, that. I've got a pretty bad temper at times, but I would never stoop so low as to hit a femme. Males like that are a blemish on society!"
Miranda couldn't disagree. But to say that Captain Archibald's temper was 'pretty bad' was the understatement of the century. He was currently seated behind his fifth desk this year. He'd wrecked the others in angry fits of rage. To his credit, he spared John D. Taxpayer the expense and bought every new desk, himself.
"The problem is, Sir, that the family of the deceased doesn't agree with the verdict. Yesterday, Emma Grey was attacked as she was going home from work," she explained.
"Do I want to know how you came into possession of that information, Lieutenant?"
"Sure. One of her friends called me about it. I know them, on a private level."
Captain Archibald hrumph'd. "As long as you're not losing your objectivity, Lieutenant."
"Hey, Captain...it's me. You know you can trust me," Miranda said with a disarming smile.
The rhino nodded. "I know. That's the only reason I'm not telling you to get your arse back behind your desk. Now get going before I change my mind."
"Thanks Captain," Miranda said and winked. She was about to leave and close the door when Captain Archibald spoke up behind her.
"By the way, give your daughter a squeeze from me."
Miranda grinned and nodded, closing the door. For all his hot-headedness, Captain Archibald had a gigantic soft spot when it came to babies, and no baby made him as weak-kneed as Dina. Occasionally, he would come to work with some fluffy, furry toy and place it on Miranda's desk without a word. If pressed really hard about it, he'd say something like "It stood there and stared at me in the window. Don't ask, Lieutenant!"
Miranda felt she had just about the best boss in the world.
###
Jean was an angry vixen. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had so much seething anger lurking just beneath the surface. Not only had the assault at university fouled her mood considerably but she had no intention of letting someone attack and threaten Emma and get away with it. Pushing open the door to Mrs. Belge's office, she entered.
The rabbit was seated behind her desk, looking quite surprised to see Jean. Clearly, she hadn't expected the vixen to recover so quickly, physically or emotionally. Probably more emotionally than physically, when it came down to it.
"Jean? Shouldn't you be home with an ice bag on your face?" Mrs. Belge asked, looking up."
"Sorry, Erica, but I'm not going to sit at home and let them win by bullying me out of work. I stayed home one day. That will have to do it. Although I'd appreciate it if Moose can continue to cover my lectures for the rest of the week. It hurts to speak too much," the vixen answered.
Mrs. Belge nodded, getting to her feet. "Well, I want to let you know that we're coming down on the whole lot of the protesters like a ton of bricks. We give them one single chance to recant, so to speak...to stay on the historical/theological track. They have to publicly, in front of the entire damned faculty, admit to their wrongdoing, without any reservations or provisos," she said, heading around her desk to look at Jean's face more closely. She winced. It looked swollen and painful. Then she sighed and continued. "If they won't, they're out on their asses and we'll contact every single University in the United States to warn them against these troublemakers. It was one thing to protest, Jean...they have that right, as long as it doesn't interfere with tuition, but when they barred you entry to the lecture hall they stepped over a line. When that fur punched you, he torched their bridges, on top of it."
Jean nodded and managed a crooked smile on the good side of her face. The support for her was as strong as she could've possibly hoped for, then. Scratching her neck, she couldn't suppress a slightly bitter chuckle. What had possessed that student to punch her, anyway? Surely, he would've realized there would be no reconciliation then. Some furs would probably not think that far, though.
"Do you remember Emma Grey?" she asked.
Mrs. Belge nodded, looking if possible more serious than before. "I do," she said, simply. "I heard about the trial. Awful business that. I couldn't believe for a second that she was capable of murdering someone in cold blood."
"Well, she didn't. She defended herself."
"So I gathered from what I heard on the news and read in the papers. I was quite relieved to hear she was acquitted. How is she doing?"
Jean shrugged. "Not good. She was attacked by a family member of her dead ex yesterday. She was still in the building where she works."
Mrs. Belge looked shocked. Lately, it seemed historians got hit by a lot of violence. If it hadn't been so tragic, she'd have laughed at the absurdity of the thought. "I see," she mumbled. "Is there anything I can do?"
"There might be. You're the head of this department after all. Could you help get me in contact with the head of the Media Institute?"
"Jean...what is going through that gray head of yours?"
The vixen smiled a wicked, even devious smile and looked at her boss. "I'm going to make the sorry shits regret the day their great-great grandparents met, since you ask."
In the five years Mrs. Belge had known Jean LeBrun, first as a student and later as a teacher, she had never seen that kind of look in the vixen's eyes before. She just nodded, slowly, and tried not to be too worried.
"I'll get him to contact you..."
###
Valerie headed up the stairs to the apartment. She had the address written down and she had checked it at least a dozen times. To find one's way around New York could be difficult, even for someone living there. The sheer size of the city alone made it easy to get lost.
Finding Timothy's place was even worse. It was in a part of the city she wouldn't normally go to. It was too expensive an area, quite simply. How the stallion had been able to afford an apartment in that part of the city was a mystery, but one she didn't bother trying to solve. Instead, she took the last flight of stairs in bounds and rang the doorbell at the right apartment. She looked around while she waited for the door to be opened. It was certainly not the kind of neighborhood one would expect to find a university student in. But then, Malcolm was a dancer, Valerie reminded herself. She really had no idea what kind of money he made from that.
The door was opened and Malcolm, wearing a pair of black jeans and a white muscle-shirt let her in with a smile.
"Hey there. Glad you could make it," he said and stepped aside.
Valerie entered and looked around. "Wow, this really is a nice place. I gotta admit, I've wondered how Timothy could afford to live in this part of town. He never talks about his parents so my guess is he doesn't come from a rich background or anything. I take it your salary pays for it?" she asked and looked at Malcolm.
Chuckling, Malcolm shook his head. "Oh no...I'm just a dancer. Baryshnikov probably made that kind of money, but not someone like me. This is Timothy's apartment. He's the sole owner."
Valerie blinked but nodded. "Okay. Well, I guess I was wrong about his background then, unless he won the lottery or something."
"Who knows...maybe he'll tell you all about it over dinner. I'm cooking fish. I hope you don't mind?"
"I'm a feline."
Malcolm nodded. "Point well made."
Valerie took off her shoes and looked around the apartment more fully. Tasteful and very stylish. Frankly, she wouldn't have expected anything else from Timothy. She'd come to know the bronco as a good reference point to what was in style and what wasn't.
"Hey Val. Did you bring your laptop?" Timothy asked and wiped off his paws on a towel, entering from the kitchen. "We've got a lot of work to do."
Valerie nodded. "Sure we do. And sure I did. But you've got to cure me of my feline curiosity. This place is huge...and you're a student. How in God's name did you afford this place?"
For a moment, Timothy looked uncertain. Then he looked slightly worried and finally, he looked at Malcolm. Valerie wondered if she'd inadvertently done something stupid by asking, but it was obviously too late to change anyway. At least she could try to soothe the worried stallion slightly. She reached out and patted his arm.
"It's okay. If I asked a stupid question, then I'm sorry. I'm just impressed, that's all."
Timothy seemed to calm down a little and he sighed to himself. "It's okay, Val...it's just not something I talk about very often. Except for my sister, I don't have any contact with my family these days, you see. This apartment is kinda like...well, it's their 'goodbye' present, you might say."
The feline nodded, slowly. There was real sadness in Timothy's voice, but she couldn't figure out what he was sad about, exactly. The obvious thing would be for him to regret having no contact with most of his family, but somehow, that didn't seem like the right answer to Valerie.
There was something else there...something she couldn't quite put a finger on.
Or was it...
Shame?
Blinking, she decided she'd stuck her paw into a hornet's nest. She shook her head apologetically and looked down. "Sorry for bringing it up. I shouldn't have," she said, shamefully.
Malcolm came to the rescue. "Why don't I go get started on a cup of tea while you two get started on the article, hmm? I think that's the best way to go about this. I've got no talent for journalism."
Grabbing the straw with both paws, Valerie nodded and smiled brightly. "Sounds like a good idea. I have all that we wrote down yesterday proofed and ready. It's just a matter of filling in all the holes."
"He's good at filling in holes," Timothy said and winked at Valerie while jabbing a thumb at Malcolm.
"Oh good God...my poor ears," Malcolm groaned and shook his head. "Down boy...down or I'll bring the fire extinguisher!"
Timothy mock pouted but sat down with his feline friend to get started on work.
###
Private Why-Seven-Minutes couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so tired. He was learning how to be a combat medic, and it was tougher than he had ever expected. Somehow, he had expected to have a couple of first-aid kits shoved into his paws and that'd be it. Instead, becoming a 'specialist' took a lot of training and a lot of reading. It was good to know that he'd be helping his comrades though. Nonetheless, he was so exhausted he felt he could sleep standing up.
The fact that he was sitting down in the mess hall only made his desire to sleep all the more pronounced.
It wouldn't do to fall asleep. He had to be on guard at the gate in fifteen minutes. A sleepy guard got furs killed; he reminded himself and forced another cup of coffee down his throat. It didn't seem to help and the taste nearly made him retch. He could never stand the taste of coffee, but he knew he needed the caffeine.
What he needed more than anything right now was a toilet to throw up in, to get rid of the coffee, and a bed to fall over and go unconscious in.
Neither was readily available and he didn't know what to do except try to stay awake and in one piece.
"You look a bit worse for wear, Private," a voice said next to him.
The chipmunk blinked and looked at the speaker, then smiled slightly. "I feel like it too, Sir."
Leo nodded and sat down next to his medic, pulling a mug towards himself and filling it with coffee. Sipping the liquid with an indifference that Private Why-Seven-Minutes would never be able to comprehend, he shrugged.
"You're on the guard-roster for tonight though."
The private nodded and sighed with a defeatist expression crossing his face.
"I don't know how I'm going to get through it, Sir. I slept enough but I have had regular duties today and we've had medical training until ten minutes ago. I haven't had one moment's rest since five thirty this morning and I'm practically falling to bits and pieces. I'll go on duty, though...it's what I have to do."
Leo listened to his soldier, solemnly. He could certainly see what the chipmunk meant. It was not as if he'd been shirking or going to bed late or anything of the sort. It was just a case of rotten planning and it was hardly fair to blame the troops when someone in administration buggered everything up.
"I have a suggestion then, Private," Leo said, thoughtfully. "You go directly from here, to your bunk, and you collapse and sleep until roll call tomorrow morning and get properly rested, and I'll make sure someone else takes over for you tonight. You'll be on guard tomorrow instead," Leo said, smiling slightly and taking another sip of his coffee.
"Can you do that on such short notice, Sir?" Private Why-Seven-Minutes asked, astonished.
"Why are you not already halfway to your bunk, Private?" Leo chuckled.
He didn't have to say more than that. The chipmunk was out of his seat so fast his empty mug was left spinning on the table. Leo steadied it, before it toppled off the table entirely, and grinned to himself.
Truth was, the only way he could get it done on such short notice was to either order one of his other troops to take over, in which case, Private Why-Seven-Minutes wouldn't exactly win any prizes for popularity with the other platoon-members, or he'd take the watch himself.
Ah well, he had nothing better to do with his evening anyway.
He finished his coffee and got up, leaving the mess-hall and heading across the base to get his gear. He was almost there when he passed Lieutenant Aureus. The jackal was leafing through some paperwork and didn't seem to pay any attention to the world around him, but Leo still nodded politely, and walked on.
"Hold it right there, Lieutenant Leon!"
Leo sighed and stopped where he was. "Yes Lieutenant?"
"What was that? I told you I expect you to salute me."
"Sir, as per standing order..."
Lieutenant Aureus exploded. His face went beet red and he stepped up in front of Leo with a look of pure rage splayed on his features. Straightening up, he still had to look up at the lion, but he did his best to appear intimidating nonetheless. The look of weary overbearing on Leo's face didn't help.
"DON'T give me some halfbaked excuse to cover up your own God damned incompetence, Lieutenant Leon!! You salute a superior officer when you see him, IS THAT UNDERSTOOD??"
Leo desperately wanted to point out he wasn't facing a superior officer, but merely one who outranked him, but he bit his tongue and instead tried to remain courteous about the whole nasty affair.
"Captain Cervus..." he began.
But he never got to finish before the jackal had interrupted. "...will hear about this breach of conduct. In the meantime, Lieutenant Leon, stand at attention and salute, that is an ORDER!"
Leo sighed and stood at ease. "I am under direct order from Captain Cervus not to obey that, Lieutenant."
For a moment, Leo thought the First Lieutenant would suffer a stroke. Then he stepped up until he was more or less in Leo's face and roared that Captain Cervus would never give such a ridiculous order.
"I'm sorry, Lieutenant, but he did. As per standard operation procedure, saluting in combat zones is forbidden. Captain Cervus' explicit words were that he didn't want to lose a good officer to a sniper, because I had produced an obvious target," Leo said, biting his tongue. Despite getting yelled at, the situation was getting comical.
Lieutenant Aureus narrowed his eyes and stopped yelling. He got a dangerous glint in his eyes and smiled bitterly. "In that case, Lieutenant Leon, you can consider yourself under arrest for refusing to follow a direct order from a superior officer. Be happy we don't shoot furs for that anymore, even during war. What you're doing is committing insubordination. I'll have your insignia and see you kicked out of the army in disgrace for this!"
"I hate to say it, Lieutenant, but until I hear that from Captain Cervus, I..." Leo began.
Again, he was interrupted as Lieutenant Aureus flagged down a couple of MP's passing by in a Humvee. Stopping and exiting the vehicle, the two large furs looked slightly confused.
Leo noticed that neither of them saluted, but Lieutenant Aureus did not make an issue of it. Perhaps because the jackal was once again staring fixedly at him.
"Take this fur to the cells!" the First Lieutenant growled. "On charge of open insubordination."
Leo knew it'd be futile to argue. If anything, it'd only make things a lot worse. He looked at the MP's and smiled apologetically. "Do you find it necessary to cuff me or will it suffice if I come peacefully?" he asked.
"Cuff him!" Lieutenant Aureus barked.
The taller of the two MP's, a lanky and shifty looking badger, scratched his neck. "Sir...if he's coming voluntarily..." he began.
"I SAID CUFF HIM!"
"Sorry Sir...orders and all that."
Leo held out his paws and nodded. "I don't mind. It's perfectly okay, and I'll still come peacefully and without any trouble."
A moment later, the pawcuffs slammed shut and Leo was guided to the Humvee. He got in and sighed. The door closed and Lieutenant Aureus went back to his paperwork with a triumphant smirk on his face. The two MP's set out towards the cells.
"Excuse me, fellers," Leo chuckled. "Now that we're away from Lieutenant Aureus, I think I'd better tell you two that unless you find Sergeant Pardinus, Third Platoon, Dog company, and tell him to go on watch in ten minutes, the guard at the gates will be understrength. I was on my way to take a watch for one of my soldiers who could barely stand on his feet from exhaustion."
The badger nodded. "We'll take care of it, Sir. Should we tell the Sergeant what's happened to you?"
"No, just tell him that Lieutenant Leon tells him it's urgent and I'll explain to him in the morning."
"Affirmative, Sir."
Leo leaned back in his seat and sighed. He didn't know if he should laugh or be angry. Neither option seemed just right, so he settled for a kind of slightly amused irritation. It was, if anything, a novel sensation.
Captain Cervus was no longer on duty. Unless Lieutenant Aureus himself went to tell the Captain of the situation, the elk wouldn't know of it until he came on duty the following day. In other words, Leo would spend the night in a jail cell, facing a bogus insubordination case. It wasn't even something that worried him. Captain Cervus would listen to the explanation...and order him set free without any further ado.
All he could do was spend the night in jail getting a good night's sleep.
###
Miranda had found the right building. She liked the look of this. It was on the border of one of the suburbs. It was a nice looking villa, probably with separate rooms being rented out. She stuck her paws in her jacket-pockets and entered. It'd be nice to see Emma again, and it'd be good to help make the mink relax a little, knowing that she had friends.
She ascended the stairs and knocked on the door to the right apartment.
A door opened and a suspicious looking elderly femme peeked out. "Who are you?" she asked.
Miranda turned to face her, smiling. "I'm Lieutenant Miranda Spermophilus, CPD," she said and produced her badge to prove her words. "I investigated Emma's case down in Cincinnati, recently."
Mrs. Tanner smiled and nodded. "Ah yes, she told me about you, Lieutenant. I'm glad that you'll be checking up on her. She was badly shaken by what happened yesterday."
The door to Emma's apartment opened and a very bleary-eyed mink peeked out. She livened up some at the sight of the squirrel, though.
"Lieutenant Miranda!! Please...please come in. I'm sorry if I'm...a bit of a mess right now, but please...come in. Can I get you a cup of coffee...tea?" she said and opened the door fully, standing aside.
Mrs. Tanner smiled and went back inside her own apartment, and Miranda turned back to face Emma. The mink did, in actual fact, look like someone had kept her awake three nights in a row. The slightly emaciated form of Emma Grey looked even gaunter than normal. Miranda felt a stinging, painful sensation in her chest at the sight. No wonder Emma looked like someone at the verge of a breakdown. What she'd been through would make nearly anyone collapse.
She entered the apartment and looked it around. It was comfortable and...cozy. Yes, she realized, that was the right word. Cozy. In the same way one would feel entering one's grandmother's home. Everything was slightly too old-fashioned for a young femme like Emma, but somehow, it fit. It was the kind of place one would just like to sit down in and let calm and relaxation wash over oneself. Bookshelves covered almost every available wall. There were only a few pictures on the wall, but they were tasteful and well chosen. The furniture was old but very well kept and comfortable-looking. Emma hurried to move the pillows aside on the couch to let Miranda sit down.
"I'm so happy you've come by," the mink said, wearily. "It puts my mind a bit more at rest to see someone I know and trust."
Miranda nodded. "Hey...I'm glad to be here, dear. You look very tired, though."
"It's nothing compared to how tired I feel, I can promise you that," Emma said, dryly. "Let me go make a start on that coffee..."
Miranda nodded and sat down. "Thank you. I'd enjoy a cup as well. You know, this isn't too out of my way. I can drop by on my way home for a while and check if you're okay, if you want?"
Emma nodded and smiled again, that same exhausted smile. "That'd be nice. I'm at my wits end. I don't know when I'll get attacked again. All I know is that I will be..."
"Not if we find Jeremy's cousin first. He'll be facing a charge for assault, after all. Jean called and told me all about it. It's not my precinct so unless I'm there when something happens, it's out of my paws this time, but I can at least reassure you that everything is being done to he..."
She didn't get any further. A loud crashing sound broke her off. Splinters of glass peppered her and cut into her fur on the side of her face. Fortunately she had instinctively turned her head away at the last moment. A fist-sized rock landed by her feet.
Emma screamed and fell to her knees, clutching her face in her paws. She didn't look hurt, but she did try to hide. Miranda flew to her feet and sprang across the room to the broken window.
"WE KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE, YOU FUCKING WHORE! YOU'LL PAY FOR WHAT YOU DID!" a voice shouted outside.
"Oh no you bloody don't class="T2">," Miranda snarled to herself. She was angry. Very, very angry. In fact, the last time she'd been this angry, she'd been facing down ArseNick down in the Cayfur Islands. "Emma, I'll be right back. Go to the kitchen and lock the door until I get back!"
She took a quick decision and threw open the window. There was a fire-ladder outside. One of those things that were stuck to the wall. She had no time to think twice. She reached over and grabbed it, swinging herself out of the window, sliding down the ladder quickly.
Quickly re-orienting herself, she could see two furs running away, through the neighboring garden. She got to her feet, rapidly, pulling out her radio from inside her jacket with one paw, and her service pistol with the other.
Clicking the radio on she broke into a flat sprint.
"This is Lieutenant Miranda Spermophilus requesting backup at Westerville Road 256. I'm in pursuit of two males, probably mustelids...weasels or hermines or similar. Probably not armed but highly aggressive," she said into the radio, clicked it off and ran a little faster.
The two males didn't look like they were about to stop. One of them looked over his shoulder and saw her pursuing. More importantly, he saw the pistol in her paw and tucking his head between his shoulders he picked up pace, leaping over a low hedge and vanished. Presumably, there was a slope behind there.
"STOP. POLICE. STOP OR I WILL FIRE!" Miranda shouted.
The two didn't stop running. Miranda growled. If she shot, she'd have to stop running. If she missed, the two jerks ahead would get away. Besides, she didn't want to use that kind of force unless she had no alternative.
Dammit, she sneered internally. The bluff hadn't worked. Instead, she vaulted over the hedge as well.
She was immediately bowled over. The attack came from the side and she was totally unprepared for it. One of the two males had been waiting for her right on the other side. Miranda rolled. The pistol flew from her paw to land on the grass nearby. She came over on her back, and the male on top of her rolled off her, going for the gun.
Miranda got enough of an impression to realize he was a weasel. She scrambled after him to prevent him from getting the weapon.
She was too late. His paw closed around the gun and he came up, facing her, pointing it inexpertly at Miranda.
"Stop right there," he sneered. "We'll deal with that murderous whore when you cops won't!"
"You're from Jeremy's family, I take it?" Miranda asked, putting her paws on her knees and trying to catch her breath. There was no sense in seeming hostile with a gun pointed at her.
The male nodded, hurriedly. He looked very nervous. "I'm his brother."
"Then put the gun down, Jeremy's brother. You're in enough trouble as it is. What do you think will happen to you if you harm a cop?"
"I don't care. She killed my brother, dammit, and you let her go!!" the young male screeched, sounding like he was panicking.
Miranda sighed and stood back upright. "No we didn't. The court did. Look..." she tried.
"Don't play brave on me, cop!"
"I'm not trying to be brave but if you fire that gun holding it like that, it'll at least knock your shoulder out of joint, possibly breaking it. That's a big paw-gun you're holding. Besides, you might want to knock the safety off," she said, wearily.
The weasel blinked and pulled the gun back a bit, taking a look at it. It was all the time Miranda needed. She swung around her own axis. Her leg came out in a perfect arch, crashing into the back of the paw holding the gun. She heard a crunch and saw the gun fly through the air accompanied by screams of pain from Jeremy's brother.
The squirrel was over the injured fur like a fury possessed, laying him low with a perfect left hook. "You want brave? Try going through twenty three hours of labor, you sick piece of shit!!" she snarled. "And don't hold a gun to a police martial arts instructor unless you're prepared to use it!"
Jeremy's brother whimpered and clutched his broken paw in his armpit as Miranda read him the Miranda-act.
###
"Okay, that's a wrap. Good job all," Zig Zag said and clapped a couple of times in recognition of her employee's work. "I'm sure they'll appreciate this."
Gabrielle got off the bed and wrapped her coat around her, flicking her mane back. "If they don't, they're KIA," she grinned. "Any living male, excluding those with my younger brother's preferences, would love this tape. Hell...Timothy would probably consider it a novelty."
Zig Zag smiled. "I'd say so. Well...should be ready to be shipped out the day after tomorrow when the cutting room furs are done with it. God only knows how long it'll be before we can find copies of this on the Internet. It's not exactly a copyrighted tape."
Yohni stretched, bending her back backwards in an angle that almost seemed to defy the laws of nature. "I enjoyed it. I consider it my patriotic duty..." she said, before snuggling up to Gabrielle.
The filly put her arm around the mongoose and smiled. "You just liked it because you actually got to appear on celluloid with me for the first time, you shameless thing."
Yohni just smiled and closed her eyes. "Guilty as charged."
Alexi got to his feet as well and looked at Zig Zag. "So what now?" he asked.
"Now..." Zig Zag said with a smile. "...I am going to do something I didn't think I was ever going to do...and reappear on film."
The entire studio went deathly quiet as every single fur stopped what they were doing and turned their heads towards the tiger-striped skunk.
"Ehh...you what, Boss?" Gabrielle asked, for once stumped out of a witty comment. "Isn't James going to have something to say about that?"
Zig Zag nodded. "Oh, he already had something to say. I asked him. As long as I stay dressed, he doesn't mind if I do a cameo or a presentation. So...kindly, everyone, get over there."
"Pity you didn't know he felt that way before AVC, Boss...you did say you would've liked a Cameo in that one," Gabrielle said with a smile.
Zig Zag giggled. "Good thing Jean didn't hear you say that. How many skunks do you think ran around Ancient Rome?"
"Oooh, I hate it when you do that, Boss!"
"Do what?"
"Get the last word!"
Zig Zag winked at Gabrielle while the filly stuck out her tongue on a gesture of mock-offendedness.
Zig Zag got to her feet and walked across the studio. She had to admit, her knees were shaking slightly, but she didn't want that to show. She pulled up a chair and had all the actors and actresses arrange themselves in poses around it or behind it. Then she sat down, half-closed her eyes and put on her best, most languid smile as she crossed her legs.
"Are you ready, Esteban?" she asked, getting comfortable.
The maned wolf nodded, recovering his wits. He checked and double checked the camera, then smiled.
"You're steell smoldereeng, jefa. The camera weell never stop loveeng you," he said and patted the top of his recording device. "And we'll be readee een cinque...quatro...tres...dos...uno..."
He made a paw-motion to show action was on and Zig Zag looked directly into the lens.
"Hello boys," she started, her voice oozing sensuality. "I'm sure I don't need to introduce myself, but I will anyway. I'm Zig Zag, the owner of ZZ Studios, and in recognition of your work so far away from good old US of A, I've decided to have a little thing made for you. You'll see a selection of brand new scenes, and some old favorites arranged for your enjoyment."
She shifted in her seat just a little, patting Gabrielle's head as the bronco had arranged herself in front of the chair, dead center.
"Gabrielle here, whom many of you are no doubt intimately familiar with, received a letter from a friend who just happens to be a Lieutenant in the artillery...oooh those big guns must be giving my actresses some interesting associations. Anyway, the letter requested a signed poster or something similar for the troops in this Lieutenant's platoon. Here at ZZ Studios, however, we don't do things halfway. It's all or nothing, and therefore, here it is...a tribute to our brave army. Go get'em boys!"
Esteban caught the hint and stopped the recording, looking back at Zig Zag with a wide smile and a thumbs up.
"Heestoree has just been made," he grinned.
Gabrielle's smile grew impossibly wide down on the floor. "Zig Zag making history? Now just wait until I tell THAT to Jean..."
The skunk opened and closed her mouth a couple of times. Then she narrowed her eyes and looked at the bronco in front of her. "Oooh, I hate it when you do that, Gabby."
"Do what?"
"Get the last word!"
Gabrielle looked immensely pleased with herself as everyone else laughed.