DYER - The Durban Wolves [discontinued - pending V2, someday, maybe]

.:12:. Not a Monster

Between tracing and disabling any spyware copied from Elizabeth's computer, jamming the communications of both Neville's militia and the police, and making sure that Jex and One were invisible to every satellite in orbit, Astiva had her hands full.

"Quit trying to kick me out already!" She growled loudly as she did battle with her keyboards. "Stinking CIA..."

"...Astiva, who are you talking to?"

The fox jumped halfway to the ceiling in surprise at the sudden, groggy voice behind her. Turning sharply to glare, she found Dyver in her doorway, a grim look over his blue features.

"Wh-what are you doing up?" Astiva stammered, a shaky smile on her face.

"You were talking really, really loudly and woke me up." Dyver said with a furrowed brow.

Astiva was pretty sure it was probably a good idea to apologize, but an alarm started to sound from a monitor off to one side.

That alarm... Astiva whipped around to her screens and her eyes quickly scanned the data it was pumping out.

"Asti, we have a problem...!" Jex's voice came from somewhere, hushed and urgent.

"What's going on?" Dyver asked.

"I hear you, Jex." Astiva hurriedly spoke into a microphone. "One's readings are off the charts! Have you got a visual?"

Jex was quiet for a moment. "Astiva, he's standing right in front of me."

Astiva froze. She'd seen enough Ferals when freeing One and Jex - yes, even though it was through a computer screen it still counts - to know that this was really, really bad.

"Wait, is that Quion!?" Dyver burst as he suddenly lunged to lean over Astiva's seat back to leer at the image from the video camera mounted on Jex's collarbone. "For the love of fur... what's going on?!"

"Can't chat right now~" Jex muttered as the camera angle sank, probably because the absent canine was crouching in front of a snarling Feral at that moment.

"You have to get out of there, Jex." Astiva said firmly. "Now."

"I can't leave him like this." Jex growled softly. The tip of a rifle appeared on the monitor.

One stepped forward slowly, his hackles raised, ears darting about in search of more threats as his eyes bore into Jex behind the camera.

"Come on, man... please don't make me have to do this..." Jex pleaded quietly, his voice trembling even though the gunpoint remained true.

"I really don't want to kill you."

***

The stinging in his shoulder was familiar. Though, the last time he'd felt the burn it had been numbed by the biting cold of an artificial, arctic winter. In a subterranean forest, he'd gone under surveillance for a new test that the despicably well-groomed American had been so eager to implement.

Two men had entered his cell and escorted him away, a third following a short distance away with his rifle perpetually aimed at the centre of Quion's torso. If he were to try and use force to escape from his escort, the gunman would have long-since pulled the trigger and put an end to the Dyer's rebellion before he could be reached himself.

After reaching a new enclosure with a second, heavy-looking iron door with an intense locking system, the escort had ordered Quion to strip to the fur.