The Fire Triangle -- Part II, Oxidizer

The Fire Triangle: Book II - Chapter 42

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The Fire Triangle

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Part Two:

Oxidizer

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Chapter 7-The Cascade Effect
(Cont'd...Part 6)

"It's him...we GOT him."

The voice was elated, feral-and menacingly guttural.

It belonged to an otter.

...Not a teensy little otter of the Emmitt Otterton variety, but a giant otter, a species from South America whose size lived up to its name, growing to nearly the size of a tapir.

And that wasn't the only difference between these otters and their smaller cousins. They were every bit as aggressive as they were big; in their native habitat they were known to take on monster catfish, caiman alligators, even anacondas. Had Emmitt Otterton been a giant otter, he wouldn't have needed a shot of Nighthowler to send Renato Manchas scrambling into the night with a damaged eye.

Giant otters also tended to run in packs; on their home turf they were sometimes referred to as Lobos de Río. Mess with one and you were messing with all of them.

The animal framed in the doorway was no exception. There were at least five other members of his species packed into the waiting room behind him.

There was also no mistaking him for anything but what he was; Kevlar vest and jungle-camo shorts, a beat up bush hat in midnight green, and a machete tucked into his belt, along with other various types of weaponry. Every square inch of his clothing was decorated with piratical symbols, cannons, muskets, swords, and the inevitable skull and crossbones. One decoration in particular, however, stood out from the rest. It consisted of a bright red jaguar skull, superimposed on a cross of bones, not the diagonal cross of the Jolly Roger, but straight-up vertical and horizontal crossbones. On either side of the emblem was a chalk-white, six-pointed star, each one given a quarter-tilt.

That was when Conor knew who had come to call on him; he was in the presence of the Deguellos, one of the most feared privateer gangs in the Canal District.

All at once, the three in front began crowding into the examination room-or that is, they tried to, becoming momentarily stuck in the doorway as they all attempted to push through at once. In that instant, they transformed briefly from the Terrible Trio to the Three Stooges.

Conor Lewis wasn't laughing; he was moving and moving fast. Snatching a pair of pellets from his backpack, he tossed them hurriedly in Erin's direction.

"Hide these, quick!"

Instead, she tried to ditch them.

"Wha...? Those are...!"

"Don't argue, do it!" the young fox hissed out the side of his mouth, and then his voice rose into a fox-scream. "Billy, DON'T!"

The young thylacine had been about to take advantage of the Deguellos' momentary plight with a black-jack he'd had stashed in his flotation vest. Incredibly, he chose to heed the silver fox's warning and back off-and it was a good thing he did, because right then, the otters wedged in the doorway managed to break free.