NEMESIS - PART 5: GOING DOWN

"Then let's go out in a blaze of glory!"

-- T-Bone in Metal Urgency

"You were right, T-Bone. Looks like we *are* going out in a blaze of glory!"

-- Razor in Metal Urgency

THURSDAY, 10:17 A.M.

"AAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHHH…"

T-Bone's shoulder started to tremble. His muscles were overexerted, cramping. His left hand slipped from the hull plate again, and he managed to find hold with his claws on another joint only at the very last instant.

The ship was sinking into the clouds, and fine pearls of dew began to form on the cold metal as the water condensed. It made his stowaway ride even more difficult.

T-Bone hung upside-down under the fuselage of Turmoil's ship, his feet and hands somehow clinging to the plate joints with a fervor. He could see the long gash that had opened in its hull on the explosion some five meters in front of his head when he pressed his chin to the metal, which made him almost lose his grip again. The blast-made opening was increasingly shrouded in mist. T-Bone waited for the moment it would be completely swallowed by it.

When the explosion had blown the corridor ground and him away, he had clung to the hull plates reflexively as the world around him rushed him by. But, after the first shock had dissipated, he realized that Jake would have an easy target if he let go of the joints. He would drop a good hundred meters before he could activate his backpack boosters, plenty of time to get roasted by one of Jake's glovatrix missiles.

But, Jake couldn't fire at what he couldn't see. The moment the mist of the clouds was so dense that his line of sight was below ten meters, T-Bone allowed his sore muscles to relax.

He fell off the ship.

The control handles extended from his rucksack as he warmed up the boosters. He had to get to the hangar before Jake, and he would make it too, thanks to his backpack. Flying outside the ship was fast.

No sooner had he broken through the clouds than a sudden jolt dragged him upwards again. The jetpack had sprung into life. T-Bone shot up, but, before he could steer towards the runway, it stuttered and went out again.

With horror, T-Bone realized that ignition had used up the last drops of fuel.

Crud, I used all the gas to reach the beach! The first hours after Jake's betrayal were still just a dim memory to the tabby, and he had missed the warnings on his display on the morning. But, knowing *now* wouldn't help him either.

T-Bone discarded his plans of flying to the airstrip and raised his glovatrix arm. He fired blindly into the cloud, at the position where he thought the gap in Turmoil's ship to be.

The grappling cable shot away and attached itself somewhere on the ship. T-Bone activated the winch. The cable rolled up, hauling him along and into the grey cloudbank.

Inside the storm clouds, his sight was next to nil. From the corner of his eyes, T-Bone saw the breach in the hull, and immediately deactivated the winch.

He had misjudged his aim. The position he'd aimed for was about seven meters to his right, and he had aimed two or three meters too high. But, the clamps of the grappling hook were bending under his weight already, so he hadn't an adequate amount of time to change his position.

T-Bone pushed himself away from the ship's hull with his feet, using it like a rock face. The cable began to swing from the left to the right, and the tabby thrust his weight in with the movement to widen the arc. He swung to the right, then to the left, and again to the right, a bit further this time. The cable pulled him back to the left, and T-Bone pushed himself away from the wall with all his might as the cable swung back to the right.

Letting go of the grappling hook from his glovatrix, T-Bone jumped.

His forward momentum conquered the missing meters to the breach, and he landed on the outmost base plate with the upper half of his body, sliding back. The sum of his own weight and his backpack lugged him out of the ship again.

T-Bone grabbed for a stable hold to stop his slide. Pain shot through his arm as he pressed his right hand onto a sharp explosion-made edge. Regardless of the pain, he tightened his grip. It stabilized his position.

Ignoring his throbbing hand, T-Bone pushed himself up on board, his face a dire scowl. He had gained another wound, but also a second chance…

THURSDAY, 10:19 A.M.

The exquisite mahogany door opened unfittingly ponderous and with a screech.

Deputy Mayor Calico Briggs strode into Mayor Manx' office, just to find an empty chair at his desk, the golf balls on the lush red-brown carpet forlorn.

Placing the thick pile of newspapers on the middle of the Mayor's shiningly polished desk plate, two reports she'd written early today on top so he *couldn't* possibly miss them, she turned to leave when a muted sound brought her to a sudden stop.

It sounded like… teeth clattering.

"Mayor Manx?" she asked, looking around at the luxuriously furbished room of the head figure of MegaKat City, located on the highest level of City Hall, alone on the floor except for her own office, a small canteen and restrooms flooded with classical music from speakers in the ceiling.

The noise ceased. "Ca… Callie? Callie… Is that you?"

"Yes, Mayor," she answered, stepping forward.

An olive, not-possible-to-kill room palm stood solemnly in front of the large row of windows. Behind the plant she found him teetering, cowered on his knees. His head didn't turn as usual to seek comfort in her presence.

Fixed it was, banned, and Callie couldn't help but to wish it were the unique and magnificent outlook down on this living city that had him overwhelmed. To the horizon, building rose beside building, single sunrays fighting their way through the clouds reflected playfully on the many façades of glass and steel. In combination with the parks that veined the city grounds with green oasis, it made for an indescribable beauty.

But, wishes were seldom fulfilled. Callie knew not the exceptional sight made the Mayor lethargic. Due to long-time experience, her senses snapped to alert, and ,reluctantly, she loosened her gaze on the city. She followed the spot Manx stared at…

Falling in shock herself.

The behemoth form of a ship emerged from the clouds on a steady descent, radiating malice. Embraced by the upcoming storm banks it birthed darkness and terror and doom. The splendor of the weather Callie had felt only moments ago was forgotten, ripped apart by this alien vessel.

Dread struggled hard to overpower her. But, Deputy Mayor Callie Briggs wrestled harder to withstand. Yes, to hole up seemed an option, but not likely the best. Her purse back in her office held a far better one.

She turned to go.

"Why…? She dictates no terms, Callie."

Manx was right. No doubt, it was Turmoil descending upon the city like an angry god. The ship looked exactly like her former one, but tiny when compared to the latter.

Callie realized not the ship made her queasy.

It were Turmoil's ridiculous demands she missed. Where was her hologram? Turmoil without terms was… unbelievable.

A villain is just nasty when there's something he wants. But, what does he look like when you have nothing to offer him? When he has all he desires and only seeks… revenge!

Deputy Mayor Briggs traced down the imaginary line Turmoil's ship cut on its path and searched for a hint at where it would end.

From outside the windows of the Mayor's office at City Hall, one would have seen the distorted form of proud Enforcer Headquarters loom up suddenly on Callie's glasses. One would have seen the answer dawning on her in her emerald eyes, and the shade of grey that crept onto her angelic face.

When she headed for the door, she didn't care she was running.

"I don't know, Mayor. But, I will find out."

THURSDAY, 10:19 A.M.

A red teardrop fell to the metal floor. Then, another. And, a third.

A constant trickle accompanied T-Bone, dripping from the fingertips of his right hand. A regular dribble…

…of blood.

The thumb-long cut on his palm had been a small price for getting back on board. In worse cases, the sharp-edged rest of the hull plates would have chopped off some fingers or even his whole hand. However, it was a deep gash. One inch lower on his forearm, and it would have slashed his artery.

T-Bone was oblivious to the wound, numb to the pain. His swift walk down the forsaken corridor seemed like a daze, and it was true that wrath made him stagger on. But, now fear mingled with his scorn, held him in its clutches.

Terror. Mortal dread.

To run – there was *nothing* T-Bone would have done more preferably. But, to rush might give him away. Even the stealthiest kat made noises on hurrying. A fast walk was difficult enough when silence was the collaborator he couldn't dare losing. Turmoil's squadron was off-board, but only an idiot would forget the other three or four crewmembers. Only a total fool would put Turmoil out of his mind.

T-Bone's mouth became a thin line as he remembered his bad luck of the last days. He would walk. Better not doing anything stupid that might attract notice. Still, walking to the hangar was nerve rattling. Time was precious, and it was slipping away under his fingers.

How much of a start did Jake have on him on getting to their jet?

The TurboKat – black-red shining banner of the SWAT Kats. What would they be without her, or – the other way around – what would they need the jet for when their days as heroes were over?

It was symbolic. The SWAT Kats weren't truly dead if the TurboKat still existed. Dead, and yet alive. A crash at Pumadyne would have destroyed her. And, him. A devoted death; the SWAT Kats going down with their beloved jet. Nothing left for the citizens to believe in their immortality any longer.

Of course, an investigation would have shown that only one body was seated in the cockpit, but before the Enforcers would have come so far in their researches as to realize this, the attack would have brought the investigation to a stop. Enforcer Headquarters reduced to rubbles by the explosives stolen at Pumadyne would have stopped roughly *everything*.

But, *their* TurboKat made it through the set-up in one piece, and with her, the SWAT Kats survived. Now the jet on board of her ship must be a thorn in Turmoil's side, as it was in Jake's.

T-Bone had missed it. He had seen that the jet was connected to the transportation rail. Just attached to make way for the squadron's jets had been his spontaneous idea at the sight, fogged as it had been by his seeking for revenge. Yet, it was fastened so it could be shoved to and over the edge of the airstrip.

The tabby fumed at his own rage-caused stupidity.

What would fit better as a container for the explosives to wipe out Headquarters than this emblem of the SWAT Kats, both at the same time allies and enemies of the Enforcers?

Nothing would!

It was all so symbolic. It was all so simple. It was all so unbelievably absurd.

And, it would work out perfectly should he come too late.

His pace was so *darn* slow.

***

T-Bone winced as he pushed the button. The hiss of the hangar door opening seemed much too loud in his ears. But, for once, luck was on his side. The distant roar of thunder echoed in the hangar, drowned out his intrusion. He carefully stepped into the bay, the door forgotten before long.

Jake. There he was, beside the TurboKat. T-Bone came just in time to get a quick look at the barrels with the explosive gel before the jet's closing bomb bay door hid its deadly freight. The Flight Commander operated a hangar instrument panel not far away, and some powerful hidden engine working the transportation rail dragged the jet into movement. It was soon transported at a steady pace, bit by bit out of the hangar.

Unmoving, Jake remained next to the panel. He held a remote control in his hand. It was the backup plan to detonate the jet in case the drop and impact alone wouldn't ignite the explosives, T-Bone realized at once. In that case, Jake would trigger the explosion by radio signal. Thoroughly planned, as Jake would do this.

Anger built up in T-Bone again, and he willingly let it take control. He would not let this madkat destroy the TurboKat!

So, they had assumed him dead. Else, - symbol or not – they wouldn't have placed the explosives in a jet he could gain access to that easily. If he made it off board inside the TurboKat, Turmoil and Jake couldn't take vengeance on Headquarters, and he would have saved their jet at the same time.

For that plan – simply flying off with the TurboKat – held a much higher chance of success than a fight with Jake. Jake was far the better fighter of the two of them. What Jake lacked in strength, he made up for with dexterity and precision. It was almost impossible for T-Bone to overwhelm Jake under normal circumstances; he could forget about victory in his current condition.

The only thing still to be taken care of was the remote. He had to get a grip on it…

He looked around. Razor's discarded backpack lay solemnly in a dark corner to his left. T-Bone crept the dozen steps toward it, never taking his eyes from Jake's back. He had just lifted it from the ground and begun to ponder on how to get near Jake without losing the moment of surprise when it started…

With a shrill wail, the TurboKat's klaxon went off and announced Callie's calling.

Jake looked up at the cockpit out of a surprised reflex.

T-Bone grinned. Time to shuffle the cards anew!

And, *finally*, he started to run.

The TurboKat's autonomous behavior was nothing to enthrall Jake for long, but it distracted him for a short moment, and that was all T-Bone needed to get closer.

"Hey, Jake!" With full force, T-Bone threw the backpack.

Jake whirled around. Before he could react, the heavy rucksack slammed into him, sending him flying to the floor, the remote skittering away over the metal grates.

"Did you miss me, *bud*?"

T-Bone transformed his straight line toward Jake into a slight curve that lead to the remote control. He fetched it from the ground on passing by, never really stopping for a moment. The dangerous detonator in his hand, he dashed on, flexed his leg muscles for a powerful physical exertion, pushed a glovatrix's button and concentrated on the cockpit.

On his command, the canopy began to close.

He leaped.

His long, precise jump ended in the pilot's chair half a second before the canopy closed completely. T-Bone began switching levers and pressing buttons to initialize the TurboKat's start-up sequence, ignoring the siren.

With the agility of a warrior, Jake got back on his feet. His expression darkened visibly and a growl formed in his throat.

T-Bone spared him a short glance and swiftly locked the canopy from within. "Sorry, I won't let you carry out your dumb-witted baloney."

"Why, T-Bone? You of all kats should understand me." Even inside the closed canopy, Jake's voice was loud. He was on the brink of screaming.

"Understand you? You're about to wipe out the Enforcers! How should I ever understand that? It's…"

"They destroyed our lives, Chance! We only wanted to protect the citizens. Feral knocked us down out of sheer egoism."

"Oh yeah, and you're different, Jake. Altruistic. Your intentions are noble and just." Sarcasm lay heavily in every screamed word as T-Bone's anger won over his rational side.

"That's why you wanted to kill me. 'Cause you're so damn altruistic!

I understand you've flipped in your wish for revenge. FLIPPED!" He finished on the last buttons for the cockpit instruments and turned the engines on, sending trembles through the jet as they warmed up.

"YOU LITTLE RAT! YOU UNDERSTAND ME WELL ENOUGH! ALL YOU MEAN TO DO IS TO DESTROY MY LUCK!"

"YOUR *LUCK*? YOUR LUCK MEANS SUFFERING FOR MANY KATS OUT THERE. WELL, IF THAT'S YOUR DEFINITION OF LUCK THEN YOU'RE RIGHT: I WILL DESTROY IT AT ANY COSTS!"

Jake narrowed his eyes. "YOU FILTHY MONGREL!"

T-Bone didn't care any more. The start-up sequence was completed. He evaluated the strength of the steel cable that yanked his TurboKat along the transportation rail embedded in the airstrip. It would never hold up against the jet's force.

"Yeah, whatever! Bye, Jake!"

He gripped the joystick and pushed the thrusters to max.

The engines and the instruments appeared to be on two different jets as the TurboKat showed no reaction to T-Bone's labors.

Déjà vu. Razor's saying sprang into his mind apathetically. T-Bone realized that he had misjudged the situation completely.

In the sudden silence that arose as Callie's despairing calling ceased at last, Jake's voice was thunderous. And, it was bitter.

"I don't think so!"

He deactivated my control panel, T-Bone grasped. Oh, crud!

Panic welled up in him, not directly for his own life, but for what the explosion of the TurboKat would mean for the city and for…

…Jake! Oh, no, JAKE! He'd never kno…

"Hmm, seems the TurboKat is not operational," Jake mocked. His voice froze from a moment to the next. "That leaves you two choices, T-Bone: you either say inside the cockpit and wait for the end, or you climb out of your hiding place and start to fight like a TOM!"

A nasty smirk on his face, Jake turned his back on the jet indifferently and walked back to the hangar controls.

If you think I'd do something stupid because of your insults, think again! I won't climb out of the TurboKat.

"You know, Chance," Jake spoke loud, marching on without turning, "if you had told me at Pumadyne that you wanted a solo career, if you had just said it, I would have stopped this. Everything! All it had needed was this little sentence: 'Yes, I want!'"

Yeah, sure! Your first attempt to kill me just failed, but you would have stopped it all! T-Bone thought cynically while he desperately searched for a way to gain the upper side of the situation again.

Jake would notice it if he opened the canopy. Before he'd be out of the cockpit, Jake would be ready for a fight and by no means could he overwhelm Jake in combat. He had to try something different. But what…?

Why did Jake disable my controls? There was no reason for him to do so; they thought me dead. Yet, he did…

His heart missed a beat on finding the answer. He knew I was alive! The TurboKat's canopy stood open when I came into the hangar…

Crud! The glovatrix, he swore as he realized that, instead of walking to the hangar, he could have moved the TurboKat from the distance via remote all along.

He must have deactivated the remote control functions of my glovatrix just before I reached the hangar. And, he disabled the jet's controls beside in one clean sweep…

The central unit!

He opened the covering of the control panel before him. Deep within, in semi-darkness, several wires wound their way toward a central unit, from which the electric impulses were passed on throughout the ship on hundreds of circuits.

He could also see some slack wires, not attached to the central unit. And, these wires led back to his controls.

Gotcha, Jake!

Jake made it to the rail controls, which were already 20 meters away. "Now I know I'll never get these words from you. Not in a thousand years. What I sought was a simple, short confession."

T-Bone shut him out of his mind. He couldn't reach into the small opening with the glovatrix on his right arm, so he changed the remote control from his left hand to his right, smearing it with his blood.

I better become left-handed now! He reached into the opening with his left, got the first loose wire and fumbled his way to the central unit. The wire was affixed in no time.

"I wanted the truth, or insight, or just a clean parting. What a fool I have been. To believe you'd hear me out. I couldn't make you change, no." Jake reached the rail controls and pulled a lever.

T-Bone's pulse sped up at the success and in his joy he realized too late that Jake doubled the tempo of the transportation rail. The jolt threw him back, and though the wire stayed attached, he ripped off another one by his sudden recoil.

Frantically, T-Bone looked at his controls. There were no warning lights he could find… At last, he noticed static on a monitor. Relief flooded through him. The loss of the X-ray Beam didn't matter for a takeoff. But, he had to be more careful. 'Not significant' wasn't true on a wire connected to the stabilizers or to an elevator. It was no good to get the controls operational again, just to drop like a stone on liftoff.

"Still undecided whether you should get out of the TurboKat? Well now, your time's expiring!" Jake's voice became louder as he neared the TurboKat again.

"I won't fight a henpecked husband," T-Bone shouted back in hopes of keeping him occupied while he cautiously hurried to get the other wires affixed as well.

Jake voiced a hollow laugh. "Even on the brink of death you won't hear me out, won't accept the truth! Very well…

Keep that in mind when you die now, Chance: The truth might hurt, but a lie that doesn't hurts kills underhand. Slowly. Terribly!"

T-Bone fastened another three wires to the central unit. How many were still loose? Two? Three? Four?

"Keep that in mind, Chance!"

Jake crossed the distance to the jet with a powerful jump that brought him onto the far end of the TurboKat's wing. He aimed his glovatrix on the canopy and fired an explosive.

T-Bone leaned away on reflex, but with his left hand firmly stuck couldn't move much. The missile hit the canopy and exploded, ripping a head-sized hole into the structure and sending a spray of glass debris over him. The fragments cut through his uniform and buried into the flesh beneath. The detonation filled the cockpit with an impulsive wave of heat and the remote control slipped out of T-Bone's hand on the blast. It fell onto the floor and bounced away from him.

Ignoring the new flashes of pain, T-Bone turned his head into Jake's direction and swung his glovatrix arm around.

But, his backpack made his whirling clumsy.

Jake was faster.

In a regular burst of fury, he fired his cement machine gun.

Through the hole in the canopy, T-Bone was struck with the fast-drying cement, his right arm pressed down by the sudden force of the impact. Before he could raise it again, the cement dried up, gluing his arm to his body. The only thing T-Bone could still shoot at was his own thigh.

The barrel of the machine gun kept rotating full two seconds before Jake realized the cement was used up and ceased shooting. He didn't lower his glovatrix, though.

Yet, there was no need for Jake to worry. T-Bone was helplessly pinned down.

Speckled in gray and striped red with blood, he was one with his seat; his left arm seemed to end in a stump shortly before his hand. It was buried under a load of cement, still inside the control panel. He had just connected the last loose wires needed to regain the controls, but fixing them was meaningless now.

He had lost.

"Discovered my sabotage, *buddy*? Nice try, but useless," Jake said in a cold voice.

T-Bone tried to yank his arms free to no avail. The cement cuffing was unbreakable.

"So you have chosen to stay inside the cockpit till the end. Relax, Chance, you'll get the seat of honor for watching Headquarters obliterated. Of course, you'll be a pile of ashes yourself."

Suddenly, the communicator flared up, startling Jake, whose eyes focused on his glovatrix. "Turmoil to Flight Commander."

T-Bone looked down. The remote control lay near his right foot, some five inches away, but his feet were cemented to the seat like the rest of his body. Only five inches. It could have been five miles as well.

"We'll reach HQ in three minutes. How are things doing?"

Jake's look flashed toward T-Bone, and he carefully drew his glovatrix arm to his body and activated his mike. "Everything's fine," he said, but didn't quite manage to keep the strain from his voice.

Turmoil noticed it, too. "I'm coming dow…"

Jake switched off the link.

Albeit his state of affairs didn't allow it, T-Bone put on his most impish grin. "Told ya… Henpecked husband!"

He received a snarl. "That was your last cocky remark, Chance! Your life ends here and now!" Jake aimed his glovatrix at T-Bone again.

T-Bone tightened his left fist. He couldn't even reach the detonator, couldn't get close to it, couldn't use it as a threat against the Flight Commander. He had to get free of the cement…

There was only one way left to go T-Bone could think of. A peek at escape, or at certain death…

If the detonator remote lay *too* close to his foot… Holy Kats, please let this work!

This was desperation time, but he would under no circumstances let them destroy Enforcer Headquarters with the TurboKat. The jet was all that was left to him, his last strand of hope. And, his plan might mean to cut it away… Just because of *them*; just because of this…

"DON'T YOU REALIZE IT?" he shouted in a rage, "I'VE LOST EVERYTHING THAT'S EVER BEEN PRECIOUS TO ME BECAUSE OF YOUR CRAZY WISH FOR VENGEANCE!

I'VE LOST EVERYTHING! I'VE LOST *JAKE*!"

Jake dropped his arm in surprise at T-Bone's vehemence, and his face acquired a genuinely puzzled look.

T-Bone sobered from his hatred in the blink of an eye. It was seldom for him to see Jake perplexed. This innocent look… he knew it so well. That was *Jake* as he knew him, as he loved him like a brother. His promise sprang up in his mind, the oath he had sworn not much more than three hours ago, though it seemed a lifetime had passed since then.

"If it's most likely that one of us dies while the other has a chance to escape, I'll beg on my knees your decision to be to save yourself."

He smiled sadly. He couldn't beg on his knees, but he would hold his promise. Even though it might be the gravest mistake of his life, he would hold it. Looking his enemy deep in the eyes, he spoke softly. "If you want to survive this, you better grab your backpack now, Jake!"

Jake watched T-Bone in disbelief. Chance was in no position to threaten. And yet, there was something in his eyes… a deep, sad longing that filled them. Jake let himself be absorbed by this gaze, his own anger washed away for a moment where time stood still…

His eyes trailed down to the detonator.

Unexpectedly, he understood.

Despite the fact that it was aimed at his own thigh, T-Bone activated his glovatrix and deployed a Mini-Scrambler missile. He clenched his teeth at the stabbing pain that hit him as the missile's three metal clamps drilled into his flesh.

And, this pain was sweet weighed against the pain rising as the missile started to charge him with high voltage.

Jake turned, jumped from the wing and started to run for his backpack.

THURSDAY, 10:22 A.M.

Impenetrable fields of clouds greeted the TurboKat as the steel cable dragged the first centimeters of her nose out of the hangar. The storm was over MegaKat City now, the air so thickly filled with static it was almost solid. The last handful of citizens still unaware of Turmoil's attack hurried to get sheltered before the first hard drops of water would turn into a flood.

For Jake, weather was irrelevant. Only time mattered. The remote lay dangerously close to Chance's bare feet. How much time was left until the charge would flash into it…?

From the hangar's opening, the backpack was fifty meters away. Jake dashed as he had never dashed before, snatching the rucksack upon turning. He slung it over his right shoulder, already fast on the move again. He couldn't spare a second to put it on correctly. Away, *fast and far away*, or nothing would help him anymore!

***

The first cracks opened on his cement confinement. The strength T-Bone obtained in his spasms was very nearly supernatural. The cement around T-Bone's right hand seemed to loosen, but he still couldn't get free of it…

The missile would have stunned most other kats by now, and it still emitted its agonizing power. T-Bone gritted his teeth in his pain, soaked in sweat he fought not to scream. His lungs didn't fill with air; he couldn't breath. As the wish to cry aloud overcame him in his anguish, T-Bone made the harsh experience that his jaw was clamped shut in cramps.

***

Jake rushed on. He was approaching the edge of the airstrip with wide steps. A distant part of him observed the eerie light of electricity that sparkled inside the canopy of the TurboKat like a countdown indicator. It was getting brighter. Jake found the strength to run faster.

***

White. Just white. No other color filled T-Bone's vision when his right hand finally broke free.

Even in his agony, the worry about the TurboKat was clear in his mind. His contracting fingers reached for the controls and pressed the bomb bay release button. The twin-doors opened.

As his lungs seemed to burst, as the power kept flowing relentlessly, as the brilliant white of electricity jumped another notch, got more intensive, and swallowed sight and sounds alike, T-Bone pushed the reactivated thrusters forward and finally, mercifully, passed out.

The TurboKat jumped forward, snapping the steel cable that held her. The abrupt forward thrust shook the jet and the unfastened barrels inside began to roll, falling out of the bomb bay and onto the airstrip whilst the jet darted away from its hazardous cargo.

High voltage sprang from T-Bone's foot to the remote control in a colorless arching rainbow. The sudden charge short-wired the circuits within.

It was as if one had pressed the trigger.

***

Jake neared the edge and leaped wide.

Inside the gel-filled barrels, three detonators received the signal they were designed for to ignite on…

THURSDAY, 10:23 A.M.

The explosion began at the hangar's threshold, expanding uncontrollably. A concentric sphere of fire spread outwards, rushed into the hangar, rebounded from its ceiling, and multiplied in power in the confined space. Heat rose to a level that wiped out even bacteria, sterilized the hangar, before it melted down the walls of metal and the synthetic materials on its path into the engine room beneath. Licking at the base grades with a fury, the inferno shot out across the runway, a hungry demon on the loose. It greedily raced after the accelerating TurboKat, smashed everything to smithereens in its relentless chase.

Against such a mighty, devastating force, even the fast SWAT Kats' jet was not nearly fast enough, and fiery tongues at last caught up with the jet. The red-black cloud enfolded her completely and then the TurboKat was suddenly gone. The erupting firestorm roared out as it shot out over the tarmac, swallowing Turmoil's ship in its mighty jaws.

The moment gravity won out over Jake's forward thrust, the explosion wave reached him. As the wall of compressed air hit him and made him cartwheel in the air like a ball in a deadly game, all he could do was to grip his backpack on his shoulder tightly so as not to lose it.

Then, the flames reached him.

THURSDAY, 10:23 A.M.

Commander Feral stormed out of Enforcer Headquarters' Main Entrance, staggering. Tumbling down the street, his eyes stayed focused on the form of Turmoil's doomsday ship that kept nearing remorselessly.

On the outside, one couldn't catch a glimpse of the void he felt inside, of the kat into which the last hour's events had turned him. Felina's almost certain fate had left him dispirited, walking on more dead than alive.

His Enforcers did all they could to oppose evil out there. Day after day, year after year, they fought against crime, and dearly, *dearly* did they pay for this, with the lives of their comrades, of their friends and family members, as the blood-price for peace.

And yet, they could not banish evil permanently, whereas the price they paid was unacceptably high. But, they had to fight on despite these risks, for giving up would mean pain indescribable for the millions of citizens of MegaKat City who depended upon the Enforcers to protect them.

He had lost so many of his soldiers to the thugs' cold-blooded attacks already. And, each day the number kept rising.

Commander Feral cursed silently. His own breathing was unnaturally loud to his ears, pulsing in sync with the pain about Felina's death.

Felina…

He adopted a feral grimace.

Turmoil might manage to destroy Headquarters, but she couldn't win!

No, they wouldn't let the thugs win over. They would resist to the last kat standing.

We owe it to them…

The Enforcers wouldn't falter. MegaKat City was a city that would *never* bend its knee to these thugs!

Felina, you did not die in vain…

And, in the blossoming of this thought, an orange flash spread out from the sky, drawing Feral's attention to it.

In shocked joy, he witnessed the wonder of Turmoil's ship exploding in mid-flight, still about one kilometer away from Headquarters. Not a second later, the wind started to stir, building up to an eerie howling around him, and the windows exploded from every house roundabouts as the explosion blast rushed him over, almost knocking him from his feet.

Feral looked up again. The flames were devouring the behemoth ship, its gargantuan form dying silently. Its own motion was gone…

It was going down over the city!

THURSDAY, 10:24 A.M.

Pain brought him back to his senses. Jake wheezed and coughed, thankful for the fresh air that had replaced the thick black smoke enveloping him after the explosion. The air also burned sharply in his right side where the main blast of the fire had met him, where he had gained serious second-degree burns in his getaway.

Something was pulling at his right shoulder, he realized, and he forced his eyes open, just to see with shocking finality that he was racing down onto MegaKat Park at a hundred miles an hour! Impact was only a couple of seconds away…

Still unable to put his backpack on correctly, Jake had no choice but to pull the parachute cord, although he knew the consequences.

The parachute unfolded and slowed his fall dramatically. A jolt went through his right shoulder that was usually meant to be absorbed by a kat's whole torso, and Jake cried in agony as his arm dislocated with a smacking sound, the limb almost being torn out.

The world turned colorless before Jake's eyes, and he nearly fainted. Somewhere in his mind, he recognized that he was still too fast in falling, but he couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't steer, least of all decrease his falling rate, with only his left arm…

Then, he hit the ground with his feet up front. He hit it much too fast.

The impact on the muddy ground was both remorseless and fateful, and his left lower leg snapped like a dry twig. If Jake had still had some air left over, he would have screamed his lungs out, but so, tears just welled up in his eyes as his whole body shook in pain.

Jake tried to stand up. It proved to be impossible, and it cost him much of his remaining strength. He lifted his head to inspect his leg. He could see the white of the bone through his fur… It was an open fracture.

He let his head fall back into the dirt, looking up in the sky. Turmoil's ship was breaking apart and coming down all around him.

And, if Turmoil was aboard that ship…

He started to shed tears. He sobbed over her loss, out of pure anger, even over himself.

A shadow grew larger over him; something was falling out of the sky. A quadratic five-meter-wide airstrip grate was coming down right on top of him.

Jake rolled to the side, but only feebly. He couldn't get away in his condition, and he didn't really want to, either. Chance had taken away the only thing that was precious to him:

Turmoil…

He felt the earth shake as the metal buried into the earth only inches away from his back. Jake cackled hollowly. It seemed ironic that the grate had missed him when he would have preferred it to guillotine him, to end his suffering.

It was only then that a new pain shot through his body. It originated from his tail, told him that the grate hadn't missed him completely…

THURSDAY, 10:24 A.M.

Through a rain-streaked window, Mayor Manx watched in horror as Turmoil's burning aircraft came down from the skies above MegaKat Park like a sinking yacht.

He started to shake, his teeth clattering long accompanied by sobs.

The Enforcers couldn't do anything, and neither had the vigilante SWAT Kats appeared to save his city. Not even Callie had created a wonder this time. She had run to search for help, but there were no helping hands for a situation like this…

Alone on his office's floor, the Mayor felt cold and abandoned and helpless and small, watching the ship finally fall onto MegaKat Park.

The noise of the crash came a tad later, shaking the last intact windowpane and consequently breaking it apart as a last proof of the impossible.

The impossible that had occurred and that had taken its bite in the form of a square mile out of the green heart of MegaKat City.

The sole comforting thought was that MegaKat Park was the best place for the ship to go down; if one could talk about 'good' in such a dreadful happening. But, with the storm and the Enforcer warnings, the park must have been deserted. The only part of the city uninhabited.

How high would the chances be for an aircraft of that size just to crash there?

Destiny was a cruel thing, mocking in an instant and supporting in the next, but never really fair. Never really friendly either.

Manx looked down at the seething fiery inferno of what had been a beautiful park up to this day, crying. It was a heavy blow to the city, a disaster to the city's funds. But, scarier: an event that would invite the criminals to stalk the shaken beast of a city.

THURSDAY, 10:57 A.M.

There was just rain, and smoke and fire. But, the fire was dying out. All over the park, several fire squads were fighting the last sources of the flames between blazing-hot metal wrecks.

Alex longed for a cigarette. A good, deep drag on a cigarette would calm him, but he had forgotten to put them into his pocket before he went to work. Just a puff or two… It would distract him from the ghoulish nightmare of reality.

Steel… Steel was all around him. Black-charred, broken, twisted and sharp-edged steel, smoldering where only green trees should have been, and fields of grass skirted by multi-colored beds of flowers.

This was a park turned airship graveyard!

"Found anything, sonny?" his fatherly, grey-furred partner Tim Benedict approached him. His wet, white uniform of a paramedic made him look unworldly in this brownish and black hell.

Alex shook his head. "There's nobody here."

The thick rain in addition to the biting smoke doomed any attempt to see much of the surrounding park area. But, it didn't matter. They would not find anyone between the fires. If the crew had gone down with this monster, they were certainly dead. No one could have survived this catastrophe. If the ship had gone down three miles from here…

Alex got sick at the mere thought.

"You alright?" Tim had noticed the greenish complexion under his facial fur.

"I could do with a cigarette right now," Alex admitted.

"You and me both, sonny. You and me both…"

Alex blinked, surprised. In contrast to him, Tim usually didn't smoke. But, then, this wasn't a normal day, was it?

"Let's move on. Over there," Tim pointed to the left, where a giant oak stood amidst a sea of airship debris in the leftovers of a playground. The tree had been left wondrously unscarred by the now extinguished fires.

Gulping hard, Alex nodded his approval, and the two shaken, drenched paramedics walked over to their next search ground. Two dozen of helpers throughout the park. Untiring in their self-sacrificing task of saving lives.

Alex saw Tim's features harden as they carefully worked their way through the sharp metal fragments. He could imagine what he was going through. Sebastian, Tim's youngest son, was nine. An age at which playgrounds were a second home for these young, energetic rascals. Just a look at the broken swing under its coffin of smoldering metal grates brought back a wave of nausea.

Then, Alex spotted a hand in between its ruins.

"Casualty," he screamed over the noise of the rain and ran toward the swing, splattering his trousers to the waist with mud.

Tim was by his side in an instant. Together, they shoveled their way through the heavy debris in which the unmoving form lay amidst. Alex heaved a grate to the side while his partner tossed away a five-foot iron rod that rolled into a muddy puddle with a sucking sound.

The first thing Alex noticed as the kat's body was halfway unburied were his clothes. They were black. Black like this nightmare, like the whole day. Tim hauled another grate that had covered the casualty's torso aside. It would have crushed his chest if not for a second grate that had buried deeply into the ground vertically directly beside him. In cooperation with the swing, it had functioned as a supporting pillar for the other grate.

"Hey," Alex shouted surprised, "damn, it's a SWAT Kat." He pointed at the glovatrix.

The paramedics had stumbled over Jake.

"This ain't no SWAT Kat," Tim responded, working on. "I've never seen them wear black uniforms."

Tim was right, Alex saw. But… "If that's no SWAT Kat, who is he then?" He stretched the last word as he put all his efforts into lifting another lurk-warm metal plate.

"Must be one of Turmoil's crewmembers. And, he's severely injured. Look!" Tim's voice had frozen noticeably as he felt Jake's faint pulse and he indicated at Jake's arm with a nod of his head.

"We must get him to the hospital straight away!"

Alex searched the area all around the vertically buried grate with frenzy. "I can't find his tail."

He received a cold answer.

"Forget about the tail, Alex! His leg has to be seen to *now*, and so does his shoulder and his burns.

If this kat is jointly responsible for all the destruction and suffering, he got much more than he deserved, just losing his tail, if you ask me."

THURSDAY, 12:02 A.M.

"…crashed down on MegaKat Park and turned it into a sterile combat zone, but, miraculously, seems to have caused no casualties.

With their flying base destroyed, the last five members of Turmoil's MegaSquadron turned their backs on the city and disappeared. No one knows where they have gone into hiding. The Enforcers had neither planes nor pilots available to give chase after them with Enforcer Headquarter bombarded and taken out; here's some video footage of the damage.

The crew of Turmoil's ship saved themselves with emergency parachutes and landed in the waiting arms of the Enforcers.

Only Turmoil has vanished without trace. According to unconfirmed reports, she left the rest of the crew only minutes before the explosion, and hasn't been seen ever since. Although it is possible that she died in the explosion, it is more probable that she used the pandemonium to escape justice.

Also. unconfirmed are the rumors about Turmoil's accomplice. Strangely enough, the lack of indications on sides of the Enforcers about Hard Drive or his whereabouts are leaving room for speculation about his or some other villain's possible part in the dramatic play to which we have just become witness."

The road conditions got worse, with potholes now taking on the size of kathole covers. It got impossible to evade these craters, and whenever her tires hit a pothole, the rumbling made her feel nauseous and groan in pain at the same time. Ignoring her condition and concentrating on her mission, she leaned forward and turned the radio louder to compensate for the noise that had caused her to miss the last statement.

"How or why it was destroyed in a mysterious explosion is still to be solved. After their futile appearance at Pumadyne yesterday, when the whole disaster started, the SWAT Kats are the number one reason to be associated with Turmoil's downfall, but, so far, there have been no eyewitnesses to confirm that the TurboKat had neared, let alone reached, Turmoil's aircraft.

As it seems, it may still take a while until light is shed on our speculations. Right now, repairing the damage Turmoil caused to Enforcer Headquarters and MegaKat Park is the only thing that matters. There will be enough time for answers when the more important tasks of quenching the fires, searching for casualties and eliminating shock and chaos have been finished. As soon as this is the case, Kats Eye News will present them to you…"

Lieutenant Felina Feral died for answers, however. The surrealistic scenario of a giant ship exploding without outer influence and falling down onto MegaKat Park brought up more questions than it answered.

T-Bone's fate occupied her primarily. For Felina, his condition was more important than her own, and the Feral family was tough-breed as well as stubborn.

Her condition, that firstly meant that she was alive. After the impact with the brick wall, her seat's rockets had ignited and maneuvered her back into a normal position, and at the same time, the parachute had unfolded. Ejector seats were explicitly constructed to do this, so that a pilot could eject out of a plane even if it was flying upside-down.

Yet… Felina swore to never redo *that* stunt again!

The car jumped as it hit a pothole, and the bump very nearly made her scream in pain. Yes, she was alive, but she wasn't well. The collision had seen to that…

"Well, lieutenant, you might very likely suffer from a concussion, and I'd advise you not to move your body too much and to keep your eyes shut…" Felina shunned the voice of reason in her head. It sounded too much like the doctor that had greeted her at the side of the hospital bed on awakening. And, the fact that the speech held a good sense of wisdom didn't exactly make it better.

Instead, her mind stayed fixed on T-Bone. She remembered the broken tom that had sat in front of her this morning in the Enforcer canteen… If he was alive, her uncle would lump him together with Razor, no matter his part in stopping Turmoil from destroying Headquarters. She would warn him…

Holy Kats, please let him be alive…

***

The muddy road led her to a bleached arrow sign whose withered head pointed the way. She had almost missed it in the heavy rain. Five more minutes thereafter, a desolate place that she now knew had been the home to MegaKat City's greatest heroes for the last five years materialized before her car.

It was a deserted, bleak garage, a gloomy place to be found in the most forlorn desert at the end of the world.

Felina stopped her car and shut down the engine. She climbed out of the driver's seat slowly to comply with the rotating world around her, and walked to the house.

A weather-eaten piece of paper was fastened at the front door with a piece of scotch tape. It fluttered noisily in the wind. 'Due to personal reasons, the garage is closed until further notice,' was written on it in black handwriting.

T-Bone's handwriting? Or Razor's? Felina asked herself. She realized how little she knew about them. 'T-Bone and Razor', that alone was evidence to that. They were not T-Bone and Razor, but rather Chance Furlong and Jake Clawson, but even now that she knew their identities, they were only T-Bone and Razor in her mind.

The SWAT Kats.

But, there were normal kats behind these masks. The citizens of MegaKat City tended to see 'their' heroes as supernatural beings, and little did they know about the cruel fate of the two ex-Enforcers who had fought for them all these years.

Felina knew much more about the SWAT Kats than most other kats, and yet she knew not nearly enough to fully imagine the suffering they must have gone through. She only knew one thing:

Their hero double lives had destroyed them!

Felina tried the doorknob but found the door locked. Unable to break the door open, as she would have usually done it, she picked up the doormat instead. A key beneath it fit the lock.

The door opened inwards silently, and Felina stepped into the house, already drenched.

"T-Bone…?" she shouted through the corridor. There was no response.

Slowly, Felina walked through the house, beginning with the living room and the kitchen, working her way up to the second floor. She felt like an intruder with each step, as if she simply did not belong here.

She shouted once more. The rain outside pattered silently on the roof. Else, there was no answer.

She searched on. If T-Bone wasn't here, perhaps he had been back already. Maybe he had taken some personal belongings and left the exile for good, knowing that her uncle would be stalking him soon. If he had gone in haste, he would have left some traces, some open drawers or some clothes… She would know that he had been here.

She would know it…

But, there was nothing.

Ten minutes later, Felina climbed down to the ground floor again. She clutched firmly to the banister. Her head was worse than ever, her vision in a nonstop spin. And, the pain was joined by the certain knowledge that T-Bone hadn't been here in the last hours.

Felina didn't know what she would have done if she had found him in the house. She had hijacked the next best Enforcer car standing before MegaKat Memorial Hospital without really thinking about that. What would she have done? Would she have told T-Bone to run away and hide? To surrender to her uncle and to tell him truth that he had opposed Turmoil and his friend? She couldn't say. But, she had wanted T-Bone to be *alive*!

Bereft of hope, Felina suddenly noticed the hatch to the hangar beneath the house.

Although it didn't bring back her any optimism, Felina opened the hatch and climbed the ladder down into darkness. The sudden change in brightness made her lose her bearings, and her grip on the metal slipped. She landed hard on the cold concrete platform at the base of the ladder.

The pain was back stronger than before. Felina moaned mutely. It took her more than a minute until she could sit up, and another one to find the switch on the wall.

Bright artificial light flooded the subterranean complex a couple of seconds later, much to her eyes' distress. Felina closed her eyes and opened them again carefully. The whirling image stayed, but the urge to vomit was gone for the moment.

Felina rested against the wall and let her eyes wander around. The hangar was vaster than she had imagined. There was at least one more level beneath the level she had just reached. Under normal circumstances, she would have explored the hangar thoroughly, awed at the wonders of the SWAT Kats' gadgets and vehicles. But, Felina knew her senses were rapidly dwindling away. She would need to get to the Medical Department.

And, it would be very unlikely to find T-Bone in a dark hangar anyway.

She turned for the ladder when she heard the voice.

"Jake…?

JAKE, IS THAT YOU?"

Felina turned again and searched the right side of the hangar where the voice had originated.

With an almost running pace, Turmoil stepped into view from some hiding place and stopped dead when she saw that it wasn't Razor, but her.

"I'm afraid Jake couldn't make it," Felina said harshly, wondering whether her voice sounded believablly tough. Her legs felt like butter. She plainly had no idea on how to keep Turmoil at bay in her current state, without handcuffs and a weapon.

To her surprise, the problem was solved on its own. Turmoil fell to the floor.

"Jake…. Jake…. Jak…" Her words turned into sobs.

The Enforcer could only stare at the villain.

She loves him, Felina thought in disbelief as she walked over to the other she-kat. She lifted her from the ground. Turmoil was limp in her grip, apathetic.

She loves him truly!

***

Felina and Turmoil left the house by the front door. They seemed more like two traumatized she-kats sharing grief than like captor and captive as they walked toward the Enforcer car.

Felina's last strength was dwindling away. The effort of climbing up the ladder again had seen to that. Driving Turmoil back to Headquarters was out of the question, so she locked her up in the car and asked for help over the radio. In no condition to drive, she just sat down on the driver's seat and closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, Felina saw two Enforcer cars heading for the salvage yard.

Commander Feral had finally uncovered the SWAT Kats' secret base!

But, there are no SWAT Kats any more, uncle, she sadly admitted to herself lastly.

***To be concluded - in "A Matter of Trust"***