Hey guys, it's Pen again.  Hehe, that rhymes.  Well, here is our
next installment.  I originally thought this would turn out to be a
three installment piece, but I just got a new idea, so it might be
longer than I thought.  Oh, little SWAT Kat recognition thingie:  in
Anatomy class, we are dissecting cats, and we were assigned them.
Well, the cat my partner and I got was, get this: skinny, male, and
red-orange colored.  Well, you can imagine the first thing that ran
through my head when I saw it, so I wanted to name it "Razor".  My
partner, who hasn't heard of the SWAT Kats except through my
rambling, didn't like the idea, so we compromised and came up with
"Hell Razor."  I just call him, Razor though. : )   Well, enjoy, and
please email me with commments, concerns, suggestions, and/or flames
at Penguinchk@aol.com
Choices
By Pen
email: Penguinchk@aol.com
Part II: The Search and the Rescue
    The engines of the Turbokat whined as they cooled, echoing off
the bare concrete walls of the hangar.  The red streaks across the
body of the jet reflected in the glass canopy of the closed cockpit.
A still T-Bone sat in the cockpit of the Turbokat, staring blankly
out the canopy.  The glass reflected worried lines near his eyes as
his they moved slowly around the huge room.  The huge ceiling,
towering 30 feet above him, was blank concrete supported with huge
steel I-beams.  His eyes drifted down the bare gray walls to the
workbench to his right.  He saw the disheveled counter, strewn with
loose wire, extra pieces and what looked like part of a television.
T-Bone allowed himself a smile as he remember how ticked Razor had
been after Chance put his fist through the last one.  "Aww, Chance,"
he had groaned, smacking his paw against his forehead.  T-Bone's face
fell as he looked down into his lap.  The mangled helmet of his
partner rested there.  His fingers probed the crack loosely.  His
ears had flapped over and laid lightly on the top of his own helmet.
His face had fallen from the stone features he had worn.  The corners
of his mouth had dropped to meet his jaw line.  His brow was furrowed
slightly, and his eyes sagged.  As his fingers passed lightly over
the crack, he felt was numb; he felt nothing physical.  His eyes
stared blankly into his rear-view mirror.  In his mind's eye, he saw
Razor sitting there, laughing at him, as if it was a joke.  He saw
his mile-long grin, his eyebrows raised mischievously, his brown eyes
snickering at T-Bone's misery.  "What's the matter, buddy?" he would
say.  "Eat a bad mongopepper?"  
    T-Bone looked back down at the helmet, and unconsciously pressed
the communicator, his frown deepening when no garbled static arose.
It was silent.  The whole building was silent.  Shaking himself out
of his stupor, he had wondered how long he had been sitting there.
The engines had already cooled; they were no longer whining.  He
slapped at a button on his right to relieve the forbidding silence.
The hydraulics of the canopy relieved the imposing soundlessness.  He
climbed down numbly and blindly and walked towards the lockers. His
mind played the events of the day over and over.  
    He knew he shouldn't have let him go alone.  He should have gone
with him.  He knew something wasn't right, why did he let him go
alone?  
    After the incident in the stairway, he had been shooed out of the
building by some Enforcers.  He had managed to retrieve Razor's
helmet and glovatrix from the scene.  Technically, it was tampering
with a crime scene.  In itself, it was against the law.  T-Bone's
mind registered that, but did not heed it as he walked out of the
building with the two objects in full view. Feral didn't even try to
stop him.   It was the first time in his experience as a SWAT Kat
that Feral hadn't issued some kind of threat or insult.
    He marched out of City Hall, his face still frozen.  Reporters
who ran up to him for a quote stopped in their tracks when they saw
his face.   A crowd had gathered around the Turbokat, despite the
Enforcer barricade.  They parted as they saw T-Bone coming, fearing
the look on his face.  His jaw was clenched, his mouth a thin, hard
line. His outwards appearance didn't show it, but he just wanted to
get home.  Maybe Jake would be there, ordering a pizza, tossing
Chance a milk.  As he flew,  his eyes stared blindly ahead, not
registering what was coming towards him.  He flew his usual course
out of habit.  He was emotionally and physically exhausted.  The next
thing he knew, he was in the hangar, staring up at the ceiling.  He
didn't remember the flight. He had remained in the hangar, fingering
Razor's helmet.  Waiting for nothing; he knew nothing was going to
come.  Agonizing about his friend; he didn't know where he was.  He
had not been defeated, not yet.  It would take more than that to kill
his spirit.  But his spirit had taken a huge blow.  
    He had failed his partner, he thought, his ears sagging further
as he placed Razor's helmet on the top shelf of his locker.  He
should have gone in with him, he knew as he dragged himself over to
the workbench and tossed the glovatrix down.   He didn't know what
Dark Kat had planned.  He didn't know where Dark Kat was.  All he
knew was that he had his partner.  And T-Bone was going to get him
back.  Even if it killed him.
*********************************************************************
*****

    Before Razor even opened his eyes, his other senses had told him
something was up.  His head pounded; he could only hear the distinct
lub-dub as the blood rushed through his head.  His ears perked up,
hearing the persistent pit-pat of water dripping somewhere near.  His
nose picked up the scent of mildew, rust, and old concrete.  His body
ached, and his head swam.  The pressure on his abdomen told him he
was laying on his stomach, apparently on a cot, his arms and legs
dangling over the sides.  Hearing no breathing of a guard in the
room, Razor slowly and painfully tried to open one eye, finding with
dismay that the left one was swollen shut.  A small slit of bright
light squeezed past his eyelid as he achingly forced his right eye
open.  The first image was blurry, indistinct.  The drab gray
concrete walls were bare and lifeless.  Small divots had been taken
out of many parts of the wall.  "First class accommodations, I'm
sure," he gargled, mumbling.  His attempts to sit up were met by more
pounding, and hot poker of pain shooting from his hand all the way to
his shoulder.  Collapsing back onto the cot, he let his eye scan the
room.  His cot was on the south wall of some sort of concrete cell.
Nearest his head on the Northern side was simply a wall of bars with
the only door in it, and then past the bars was another part of the
room.  Once his eye turned to the east side, his ears perked up.  He
sat up carefully and slowly on the cot, and found a small barred
window on the east wall.  He squinted gingerly at the window, and
found it to be approximately two by two feet and six feet off the
ground.  He allowed a smile to curl its was around his
blood-encrusted cheek. Small rays of sunlight glinted through the
barred window, and pointed his attention to a small pitcher of water
and a packet of stale crackers sitting on the north wall. He eyed up
the food suspiciously.  The grumble in his stomach told him the water
and crackers were better than they looked. Ignoring his stomach, he
looked away from the pitiful rations.  He didn't trust Dark Kat, no
matter the circumstances.  Placing his palms on the surface of the
cot, he pushed himself up into a standing position shakily, bringing
his paw to his head as a wave of nausea swept over him.  He gingerly
felt the cut on the top of his head and found it had clotted.  He
partially sighed.  That was one good sign. He then looked at his paw;
the cut had reopened.  He studied with repulsive fascination, and
through still hazy eyes, the long ragged rent on his right paw.  He
lightly peeled back layers of skin, but suddenly replaced it when
something purple oozed out.  Disgusted and gagging, he looked away.
    He held onto the walls for support as he staggered over to the
window.  Moving was slow and painful.  The haze in front of his eyes
and the fog in his head refused to clear, resulting in pain and
frustration.  Balancing precariously on the tips of his claws, Razor
could just see out the barred window on the wall.  He could see the
middle of some tree trunks, and that was about it.  "Hmmph, I must be
on a middle floor somewhere."  Sluggishly, he pushed the rusty steel
cot over to the window and evened his weight on the mattress.  With
the extra foot and half of height the cot gave him, he saw the grass
and the dew shining off the blades.  "It must be morning" he said,
glancing away quickly as the morning sun beat down on his sensitive
eyes.  "How long have I been out?"  He began to mentally calculate,
his usually quick mind slow and sluggish.  The fight had been in
mid-afternoon, about four, if he remembered correctly.  It was now
early morning.  He judged it to be about 7:30.  "Shit, I've lost
fifteen hours, at least."
    His thoughts were interrupted by heavy footsteps storming down
the hall.  Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the water in the
pitcher making concentric circles.  "Dark Kat" he groaned as he
pushed the cot back to its original position.  He sat on the edge of
the cot and began to rip strips of cloth of the case of the pillow,
and some cottony filling from the pillow itself.  He lightly dabbed
his wounded paw with the filling trying to rid himself of the
infectious purple matter. He had then started wrapping his paw when
the door flew open.  Barely fitting inside the door frame was the
monstrous bulk of Dark Kat.  His red eyes glared merrily at the Swat
Kat.  He raised an eyebrow and half-smiled triumphantly.  When he
spoke, his voice was deep, but not menacing.  It was, in fact,
playful.  Razor scowled.
    "So," Dark Kat was the first to speak, "it looks like our little
guest has finally awakened.  But he hasn't taken our hospitality to
heart," he oozed, indicating the untouched crackers and water.  "Too
bad," he continued, "I am sure you will have wished you did."
    "I don't trust you."  Razor spoke intensely, forcing it through
clenched teeth.
    "I don't expect you to.  But think for a minute ... you are
supposed to be the genius of the famous SWAT Kats ... if I had wanted
to kill you, why wouldn't I have done it when you were unconscious?"
    "You want to watch me suffer."  A hissing sound entered his
voice.
    To Razor's dubious surprise, Dark Kat started to laugh.  "Yes, of
course I do, dear kat, of course!  But poisoning isn't my style.  I
can't control the pain." A grin slowly formed  baring his white teeth
and curled around his sinister face.  "Rest assured, the crackers and
water are safe for you to drink.  Perhaps not a gourmet meal, but
sufficient," he shrugged his massive shoulders.  "I would advise you
to eat it.  You will need the energy."
    "If you want me to suffer, why feed me?" Razor seethed.
    Dark Kat shrugged.  "So it will last longer.  You can't exactly
torture a dead body, can you?" he half- smiled and raised an eyebrow
again.  He turned on his heals and thundered to the door.
    "Where is my helmet and glovatrix!" Razor demanded.
    "Don't you remember?  Oh, sorry, you were lying helpless at my
feet, of course you wouldn't." Dark Kat found that funny, and
chuckled in his deep voice as he turned to face Razor.  
    "They were both lost in the fight.  I have to paw it to you, I
was not expecting you even to get that far.  I called in the
Creeplings only as a last resort.  I am sure your partner has your
weapons in his possession.  I am sure he picked them up when he saw
all that blood on the wall," he raised his eyebrow further, a
condescending tone entering into his voice. "I am sure he is quite
worried now."  He turned to leave, but stopped suddenly.  He turned
back to Razor, eyebrows raised in mock sympathy, and his mouth formed
a pouty frown.  "Agonizing, isn't it?  Not knowing whether your
partner is near or far," Dark Kat's eyes twinkled when he saw Razor's
muscles tense, "in danger, or perfectly safe," Razor crouched down,
"alive or dead," he spat finally, an eyebrow cocked and a corner of
his mouth turned up in evil victory.  "I am sure it is *quite* hard
on him.  Wouldn't you think?" he oozed.  Then he broke out into
laughter as Razor leapt towards him, claws bared, intent clear.  He
smiled and laughed again as his creeplings beat Razor down and pinned
him to the cot once again.  Dark Kat turned and left the room, still
chuckling, followed by the creeplings, chattering and squawking.
After they left, there was no movement in the room, save for the
blood dripping off the cot  from a paw.

*********************************************************************
*****

    Bloodshot eyes inspected the monitor of the computer in the
hangar.  The Turbokat sat behind the computer, its engines cooling
after a late and busy night.  The fuel line pumped behind him as it
refueled the Turbokat.  Chance leaned on the back of a chair for
support, and faced the screen.  The wrinkles and circles that had
formed underneath his eyes bore an age much older than his own.  His
tail hung limply across the chair, the tip twitching nervously.  His
paws slowly pecked their way across the keyboard.  He stopped
suddenly, and took a gulp out of a coffee mug sitting close by, then
immediately resumed typing.
    "Where is he?" Chance asked, staring intently at the computer
screen, the green lettering dancing purposelessly over his glazed
eyes.  A small section of Megakat City was portrayed on the screen.
The SWAT Kats used the computer to login all the known hideouts of
the criminals they fought.
    "Where is he?" Chance thought, his mind whirling into a flow of
consciousness he could not stop.  "Where is Dark Kat what about the
old abandon zoo, naw, he isn't there, it is over run with plants more
like a Viper hideout but Dark Kat would want someplace dark and out
of the way, what about the old mines, naw no place to hide that damn
jet of his where is he where is he, so help me if he has harmed a
hair on his head he will pay nothing will stop me from wringing his
neck myself when I find him and he's done something to Razor where is
he where is he where did he go what about inside the city somewhere
but where his jet would be noticed but wait a minute, naw, he
wouldn't be there either, how am I gonna find him?"  Chance closed
his eyes, momentarily surrendering to the exhaustion that racked his
body.  "I gotta think, where would he be. How can I find him? Of
course, Stupid, who were the witnesses? Callie, Felina, and not to
mention Manx.  Won't get anything out of Manx, though.  But Callie
... Callie would give me all that she could,"  Chance allowed himself
a smile as he jumped out of the seat and ran to his locker.

*********************************************************************
***
    The Turbokat streaked across the blue sky below the puffy white
clouds dotting the sky.
    T-Bone landed the jet on the top of the hospital, careful to
avoid the life-lift landing pad.  "Now, where would she be?" he asked
himself as he secured a grappling hook to the railing on the roof.
"A private room."  He slowly repelled off the building.   "Which are
always near the top.  She would want the room facing City Hall, and
what the Deputy Mayor wants, she gets.  Let's see now, City Hall is
to the East of us," T-Bone shielded his eyes from the mid-morning
sun.  "I'm on the correct side, at least."  When he got three floors
down, he began looking in windows on the East side, barely reacting
to the surprised faces and occasional screams.  Soon he found
Callie's room, and peeked his head around the corner of the window.
    Callie's blond hair was tied back in a pony tail, a small patch
missing that was covered by a bandage.  A series of stitches was all
that was left of her gash now.  She was laying in her bed, knees
propped up and supporting a clipboard.  She was reading over some
paper work.
    T-Bone shook his head.  He found it somewhat ironic that Callie
was still working even though she was in the hospital, and Manx was
probably on a golf course "recuperating."  He rolled his eyes and
looked at the security Enforcer with her back to him, sitting in a
chair and reading a magazine.
    Callie slid her glasses off her nose and straightened her legs.
She placed the glasses and the clipboard on her lap.  She stretched
her arms over her head and yawned, showing off her canine teeth. The
security guard didn't look up.  She smacked her lips once or twice
then looked out the window.  She gasped slightly when she saw
T-Bone's disembodied head smile.  Then he waved.  He drew his head
back quickly when the security guard was alarmed by her gasp.
    "Is something the matter, Ms. Briggs?" the security guard asked,
looking up from her magazine.
    "Uh, no not at all, Corporal.  I was just wondering ... uh, I am
so tired, and I was wondering if I could take a nap."
    "Certainly, Ms. Briggs.  Go right ahead."  The guard pulled her
chest-length brunette hair back into a loose braid.
    "Uhm, yes, of course," she said, smiling sweetly.
    "I'll just sit right here," the corporal tapped the arms of the
chair, "and won't make a sound."
    "I'm sorry, but I was wondering if I could have some privacy."
    "I'm sorry Ms. Briggs, but my orders are not to leave you along
under any circumstances."
    "But if Dark Kat was going to try anything, he would have done it
by now," she persuaded.
    "I'm sorry, Ms. Briggs, but those are my orders."
    "But what about the guards outside.  I am sure they can handle
it.  You can join them.  It must be awful boring watching me do
paperwork," she offered.  Callie was running out of ideas, and T-Bone
was still hanging outside.
    "Nonetheless, Ms. Briggs," the corporal said, beginning to get
visibly annoyed, "I have my orders direct from Commander Feral.  I
can't leave."
    "Feral gave you the order huh?" Callie said, quickly changing the
subject.  Maybe another tactic would work. "Y'know Feral, he is such
a worry wart."  The corporal apparently found that amusing, as she
smiled and chuckled slightly.
    "I've never heard anyone talk about Feral like that," she
blurted.
    "Oh yeah, underneath it all, Feral is just a soft hearted
kitten," Callie continued, realizing she was making some headway.
Sometimes she loved being a politician.  It gave her the talent of
persuasion
    The corporal began to laugh harder.  "He really is a little too
overprotective, I guess," the corporal agreed.  
    "So I can take a nap?" Callie pushed.
    "Yeah, I guess.  I will be right outside the door if you need
anything.  Just yell."
    "Thank you, Corporal.  I appreciate it."  The corporal dismissed
it with a wave of her paw, and closed the door quietly behind her.
    Callie slowly pulled back the sheets on the bed and silently
padded her way over to the window.  She opened it a crack, letting
the wind blow her bangs out of her face.  "Wait a few minutes for me
to get back in bed, and then come in," she whispered to T-Bone.  He
grunted affirmative in response.
    Callie padded back to the bed and carefully laid her head down on
the pillow.  She watched as T-Bone disengaged the grappling hook on
his Glovatrix and carefully climbed in the window.  He collapsed on
the chair, his head resting on his chest, his arms hanging loosely
over the side.  "Sorry about the wait," Callie explained.  "These
hospital gowns aren't too complimentary in the back."  
    T-Bone lifted his head in acknowledgment.  
    "You look like you should be in here more than I should, T-Bone.
Did you get any sleep last night?"
    He looked at her, disbelieving that she said what she just said..
He cocked an eyebrow.  
    "Guess not," she shrugged, avoiding his eyes.  "I guess you came
for information, then?"
    He nodded slowly.
    "I can't tell you much," she admitted sheepishly.  "I was out of
it for much of it, thanks to those damn Creeplings.  I didn't start
to wake up until I was already out of the building."
    It seemed impossible to her before, but T-Bone's massive hulk
suddenly deflated.  He suddenly sighed deeply, letting all the air
out of his entire body.  His shoulders sagged as he sank further into
the chair.  His head once again fell to his chest.  The wrinkles and
deep pits underneath his eyes only got deeper.  The nervous twitch at
the tip of his tail was the only sign of life in this big kat, and
the twitches were getting smaller and smaller.
    "But I do remember something before I blacked out.  It is sort of
fuzzy, though."  She stared off into space, as though she was looking
for something on the horizon.  Her eyes narrowed, then opened wide
again as she remembered. "It was a trap, T-Bone," she said, her head
lowering to look at her paws.  "Dark Kat wanted Razor, for some
reason.  I don't know what."  She looked over to the yellow kat, who
was startled her by suddenly animating himself and sitting on the
edge of his seat.  His tail flew wildly behind him, his ears swiveled
forward and hung on to every word she said.  In his eyes she saw a
mixture of hatred, worry, and fear, like she had seen before.  But
now, as she looked closer, she saw a glint of hope.
    "Do you know where they went?"
    Callie shook her head.
    He got up suddenly and headed for the window.  "Thank you Ms.
Briggs.  And get well soon."
    "You're welcome T-Bone."
    "And T-Bone?"  She looked worriedly at him, one of her eyebrows
lowering compassionately.
    He tried to re-engage his glovatrix grappling hook.  "Yeah?"
   "No matter what, you aren't alone."
    He paused for a moment, one paw out the window.  his right foot
was already on the windowsill.  He closed his eyes temporarily, and
opened them slowly.  His stomach was suddenly empty.  He looked over
to Callie, her brow furrowed ever so slightly, her lips pursed
worriedly.  "That's the worst part, Ms. Briggs," he stated evenly, "I
am."  He shook his head slightly and climbed out the rest of the way.
Pressing a button on his glovatrix, he was pulled back up to the
roof.
    Callie shook her head and smiled sadly, and held her ears as she
heard the Turbokat's engines roar to life.  She saw the sleek black
jet streak into the late morning sky. For the longest time, she
couldn't take her emerald eyes off the point in the horizon where the
Turbokat had disappeared.  Soon, the relaxing blackness of sleep
crowded her view and she slipped back onto her pillow.  Her dreams
were not kind.

*********************************************************************
*****
    The Enforcer on desk duty in the lobby of Enforcer Headquarters
hadn't looked up from his book in ages.  His head was propped up on
one paw, his elbow on the desk, as his blue eyes drifted lazily over
the page.  It had been a slow day, and he still four hours until his
shift was over.  His usually neat and tidy uniform had been rolled up
at his sleeves, the flak jacket discarded on a nearby chair, and the
top couple buttons undone on his shirt.  "I hate desk duty!" he
yawned as he stretched his brown-black arms, interlocking his paws
above his head.  He pushed his black hair out of his eyes and smacked
his lips together.
    The phone ringing on the desk startled him, and shook him out of
his reverie.  He shook his head to clear it of the latest plot line
in Stephen King's new novel.  He picked up the receiver.
    "Enforcer Headquarters, Officer Sadie speaking, how can I help
you?" the enforcer asked cheerfully, happy to have something to do.
    "Yeah," a male voice growled, exhaustion evident in the voice.
"I need to talk to Lt. Felina Feral.  Is she in?"
    The Enforcer cocked a black eyebrow.  "Yes, she is.  May I ask
why you need to speak with her?"
    "None of your business."
    The strange kat's voice sounded familiar to the enforcer, but he
couldn't place it.  His forehead furrowed.
    "I'm sorry sir, but I cannot direct your call until I know your
name."
    "Fine.  Tell her this is Mr. ..." there was a slight pause on the
other line, "Necessary.  Yeah,  Mr. Necessary."
    "Pardon me?"  Sadie nearly laughed at the absurd name.
    "You heard me.  Just connect me."
    The secretary looked suspiciously at the receiver, then shrugged.
"Hold for moment please sir," he said as he pressed the button for
Felina's office.
    On the other end of the line, a sigh of relief was given.  A
gloved hand rubbed a masked head.  "Necessary?" T-Bone silently
berated himself.  "Necessary?  Of all the names, in all the world, I
chose something as believable as 'Necessary'?!"  He shook his head,
remembering slightly the skinny kat with bad knees from high school.  
    He turned his attention back to the phone when the ringing
stopped and a voice answered.  "This is Lt. Feral."
    "Lieutenant?"  T-Bone's voice came out weak and exhausted.
    "T-Bone?!" Felina's eyes grew wide as she heard the small voice.
Her mouth hung open.
    "Would you be able to meet me sometime ... I need to talk to
you."
    "Uh, yeah, my shift ends pretty soon," she said, glancing quickly
at her watch.
    "Okay, meet you up on the roof in ten minutes, got it?"
    "Yeah, I'll be there.  Hey T-Bone ... "  she began, but was
answered by the incessant buzzing of a dial tone.   She hurriedly
packed up the paper work she had been working on, stuffing it into a
hanging file folder in a drawer in her desk.  It would take her about
ten minutes just to get up to the roof from her floor.  She sighed as
walked out the door, and hit the "up" button on the elevator.
*********************************************************************
*****
  T-Bone replaced the receiver, and turned off the trace scrambler on
the phone.  It would take him five minutes to get to the roof of
Enforcer head quarters in the Turbokat.  And he wanted to be early.
     The elevator doors opened slowly as Felina stepped out onto the
runway on the top of Enforcer headquarters.  She found T-Bone leaning
up against the jet, his arms crossed.  His eyes looked years older
than his time.  He jerked his thumb to the open canopy on the
Turbokat.  "Hop in Lieutenant."
    Felina shook her head in disbelief.  Her jaw edged its way
downward.  "Pardon me?" she sputtered.
    T-Bone rolled his eyes.  "I said 'hop in, Lieutenant,' unless you
want your uncle to see me talking to you up here."  He hopped up on
the wing, then offered Felina a paw up.  As she approached the jet,
she became more and more in disbelief - and awe at what was unfolding
before her.
    "Are you telling me you are going to take me in your jet ... "
    "And talk to you, yes I am.  Now, please, get in before you get
me arrested for something your uncle thinks I did but I really
didn't."   He shook his outstretched paw, accenting his message.
    "Thanks," she said, waving off the paw, "but no thanks."  She
grinned as she leapt up onto the wing, and took her place in the
gunner seat.  T-Bone shrugged and stepped into the pilot seat.  He
started the engines and began to lift off as a squadron of heavily
armed Enforcers busted through the doorway of the stairs.
    "What the ...?" T-Bone said as the Turbokat lifted up into the
air.
    "The guard on duty in the tower must have seen you land and
alerted someone."
    "Oh." T-Bone said sheepishly looking down through the canopy to
the runway below.  "Did I get you in trouble?"
    Felina smiled as she looked down to the runway below, then
shrugged.  "Na.  You can't really see faces from that high up in the
tower, only bodies." 
    "Oh."  T-Bone edged the throttle forward, and the jet flew across
the sky.
    "So what did you need to talk about?" she said, marveling at the
weapons panel before her.  The sophisticated machinery before her was
almost too much to resist, and she began reading labels and trying to
figure out what each button and lever did.  It was nothing like an
Enforcer chopper, but very much like a two-kat enforcer jet with many
high-tech renovations.
    T-Bone looked up into the mirror in front of him so he could see
Felina.
    "About ... yesterday," he sighed.  He shoulders slumped, and
Felina could see the deep circles underneath his eyes, even through
the mask.  The bloodshot eyes and the disappearance of his trademark
smile both gave her clues to his faded emotional stability
    "Oh," she said, bowing her head.  "I can't really tell you much
..."
    "Who the hell can then?" T-Bone growled under his breath.
    "Pardon?"
    "Nothing," he snapped.  Felina heard a sigh before he continued.
"Just tell me what you can."
    "Well, we were trying to escape by way of the stairs, but we were
soon intercepted by creeplings.  He told me to go, and take Manx and
Briggs with me."  Her voice softened as she recounted the story,
remembering the look in Razor's eyes as she left.  Her nervously
picked at her fingerclaws.  "I'm sorry, T-Bone, I should have stayed
with him."  She was nearly whispering.
    "No, you shouldn't have," she heard him sigh from the front.  She
pushed a white patch of hair away from her face.
    "Pardon?"
    "It isn't your job to protect Razor, your job in that instance
was to protect Ms. Briggs and Mayor Manx."  He paused before
continuing, almost as if he regretted that she made the right choice.
"Do you know anything else?"
    "Yeah ... I think as I was running down the steps with Briggs and
Manx, Dark Kat was saying something to him ... something about how he
never wanted them, just Razor.  I didn't give it much thought at the
time," she rubbed her forehead, "but now I wonder why he did."
    "That's what I would like to know," he sighed.
    "Hey T-Bone?"
    "Yeah?"
    "Are you okay ..." Felina felt her cheeks burn a little, and she
hoped the burly hekat in front of her didn't notice.  "I mean," she
quickly corrected, "you don't look so good.  How long has it been
since you have gotten a some sleep?"
    T-Bone shrugged.  "I don't know.  What time is it now?"
    Felina glanced at her watch.  "6:10 p.m."
    He shrugged again.  "About 36 hours."
    "Get some sleep tonight."  Her comment came out more as a request
than an order as she tried to meet his eyes in the mirror.  He was
avoiding her gaze, looking out of the front of the canopy instead.
    T-Bone shifted in the seat in front of her.  "Yeah, right," he
chuckled, but then his tone softened.  "Yeah, whatever, I'll try.
But if you hear anything ... I mean, if you guys hear something I
don't about ... " T-Bone fumbled over his words.
     "I'll let you know," she soothed.
    "Thanks."  He looked into one of the red pouches on the front of
his flight suit and took out a small black rectangular box, three
inches by four.  It was simple, and only had a belt clip on the back,
and single red triangle-shaped button on the front side.  On the
button was a small speaker that doubled as a microphone.  He looked
at it a second, and a picture of Jake working on it until all hours
of the night, or until he dragged him to bed, flashed before his
eyes.  He smiled sadly.  "Lieutenant, please take this," he said,
reaching back over his seat to give it to her.  "It is a
communicator."
    "Anything like what Ms. Briggs has?"
    T-Bone coughed slightly, and cleared his throat.  It was his turn
to be amazed.  "Pardon?" 
    "Come on, T-Bone, I'm not blind," she chuckled., "nor am I dumb."
    "Okay, okay," he relented. "No, it isn't.  This is different.
This one allows us ... er, me to call you as well as you to call me.
Hit the red triangle, and I will answer.  If I need to talk to you,
it will vibrate.  Now, where would you like to be dropped off?"
    "How about two blocks East of Enforcer Headquarters.  My stuff is
still there, and I don't like the idea of you trying to land there
and get both of us in deep shit."  She turned the device over in her
paw a couple of times as she felt the Turbokat head back West,
towards Enforcer Headquarters.  "Hey T-Bone, what's this thingamajig
called?"
    "You guess is as good as mine.  Razor,"  Felina saw T-Bone's ears
droop, his voice taking on the previous exhaustion and worry, "didn't
get a chance to name it."
    "Oh." She regretted that she mentioned it.  "How about the kat
pager?"
    "Whatever.  It's yours now, name it whatever you want."  His
voice had an edge to it that Felina had never heard before.
    "Oh, okay."  The Turbokat set down gently, and she placed the
device back in her pocket.  Her forehead creased.  "Hey T-Bone?"  She
wanted to tell she was sorry, that she wished she could have done
something more for his partner.  But how could she?  How could she
say something eloquent enough to show him how sorry she was for him,
and his partner?  She thought of the time when she almost lost her
partner in training ... a story she did not wish to remember.
    "Yeah?"
    She shook her head.  "Nothing," she said weakly, staring down at
her nervously playing paws for a few seconds.  "Hey T-Bone?" she
tried again.
    "You need to get something off your chest, Lieutenant?"
    "Yeah.  Well, its just that, T-Bone, you shouldn't blame yourself
for what happened to Razor."
   His head jerked up suddenly into the rear view, his eyes narrowed.
His ears lay flat on the back of his head, as if preparing to attack.
"Why the hell shouldn't I?" he growled.
    Felina was taken aback by his response, her surprised eyes
quickly narrowed.  "Because he knew it was coming."
  T-Bone turned nearly 180 degrees around in his seat to stare Felina
right in the eyes.  His deep green eyes swirled with anger and his
claws gripped the back of his seat.  "How the hell do you know that?"
    Felina shifted uncomfortably.  This was not a situation she
wanted to be in.  "Because ..." she began, uncertain of how to
continue.  She scratched her upright ears, and below her
steel-colored eyes.  She decided just to go whole-hog.  "He told me.
He told me to tell you not to blame yourself.  He knew it was coming,
he knew he was led into a trap, and he knew you would blame
yourself."
    T-Bone sunk into his seat.  His shoulders sagged, and his ears
stood straight up, and then flopped over.  His eyes widened, then
dropped.  His mouth fizzled into a deep frown.  "He said that?" he
said, barely audible.  It had been forced, as if he had to say it,
but was also holding something in that would soon burst out.
    "Not exactly."  She shifted again.  "He said it, but didn't speak
it.  I just knew by looking into his eyes."
    T-Bone's brow furrowed, and his lips formed a thin line.  He was
definitely holding something in.  "Yeah," he agreed, his voice
raising slightly at the end,  "I know what you mean."
    She heard the canopy open and she felt the wind blow off the roof
of the building.
     She carefully climbed out onto the wing and lowered herself down
to the ground.  She began to walk away, but turned suddenly, and
shielded her eyes from the low sun.  "And T-Bone?"
    He looked up from his controls and over at her.  His shoulders
slouched.  His eyes had no love of life, no daredevil's death-wish.
They were only bloodshot marbles placed above his snout.  "Yeah?"
    She hesitated.  "Thanks for the pager."
    He half-smiled a polite smile.  His face seemed void of energy.
    "Whatever."  He closed the canopy, and Felina stood back and
shielded her eyes as the V-TOL engines kicked in and lifted the
Turbokat into the air, and into the reds, oranges, and yellows of the
setting sun's sky on fire.  The back engines ignited and the Turbokat
streaked into the evening sky.

*********************************************************************
*****
    A small groan escaped from Razor's mouth as he rolled over on the
cot.  He cradled his injured paw in his other paw and slowly sat up.
His head was pounding, his vision was swimming.  "Surprise,
surprise," he thought, not surprised about the pain as he paused for
second as his senses slowly came back to him.  He still smelled the
staleness of mildew.  He heard the dripping water somewhere around
him.  He felt the springs through the thin mattress of the cot.  He
felt his hand, and his head, throbbing to the same beat, but at
different times.  He saw the same bland, cracked, gray walls he had
been staring at all afternoon.  He rested his elbows on his knees,
and his head in his paws as he tried to will the pounding and the
screaming in his ears, and the pain away.  It only made the pain
worse.  As he lifted his head, his vision remained out of focus,
blurry, and indistinct.  "That can't be good," he mumbled, trying to
shake his vision clear.  That proved to be mistake as his headache
doubled in intensity, forcing him to lay back down to ease the pain.
He clutched his head in a vain effort to cool his burning face.  A
second passed as an eternity as the pain continued to grow.
    He slowly lifted his arm and took off the glove so he could
inspect his injured paw.  He winced as he unraveled the
pillow-case-turned-wrapping, now a bright red.  When air hit the
wound, it sent a shooting pain up his paw and arm, forcing him to
hold his paw to his chest in a weak effort to calm the nerve endings.
When the pain died down enough, he began inspecting the wound as much
as he could.
    There was a large rent running from the base of his pinkie finger
all the way down to the base of his thumb on the back of his paw.  He
drew in air through his teeth quickly, resulting in a hissing sound
as he probed the wound.  Layers of skin and fur were pulled back to
reveal as crusty underlayer of dried blood and knitting tendons.  It
had been cut deep, and had been infected even worse than before.  The
blueish liquid and white-yellow puss told him that much as he
wrinkled his nose and his stomach turned.  It was grotesquely swollen
to twice its size, and he doubted if he would be able to fit his
glove back on.  He grimaced as he probed a particularly sensitive
area.  His probe complete, he heaved a sigh of relief.  "At least it
didn't hit an artery," he sighed.  He ripped off more strips from his
pillow case and wrapped them around his paw.  His paw wrapped, his
carefully ripped his glove along the seam as eased it back on his
paw.  The glove remained that way, half on, half off as he carefully
picked himself off the bed and tried out his balance.  He glanced
around the room, inspecting it for a camera or some sort of recording
device.  He found it odd when he didn't find any.  He shrugged and
slowly pulled the cot back over to the barred window.  He paused
before he had even moved it two feet to allow the pounding of his
head to die down, and to allow his vision to stop dancing.  He then
began to move it again.  Placing it underneath the barred window, he
stepped up onto it, steadying himself by grabbing onto the bars
himself.  He looked out in the evening light.  He could see a large
mass of trees surrounding as much as he could see of the building.
Most of the area was densely covered in trees.  "Those trees will
give me enough cover once I get out of here," he said to himself,
trying to drown out the screaming in his ears.  His eyes narrowed as
his blurred vision tried to mark out how far it was until the forest.
"The treeline is roughly 210 yards away," he thought out loud.  It
was getting more difficult to drown out his ringing ears, harder to
ignore the pain ripping through his skull.  "Given little more than
one and half yards for each stride," he covered his ears, and
squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to calculate, "a second for each
two strides," his brain strained to complete simple mathematics as
his head drummed out a stead, painful beat, "it would take
approximately 70 seconds for me to reach the treeline.  That is a lot
of time for me to get myself caught.  Shit, that won't work."  He
uncovered his ears and opened his eyes.  When the light hit his eyes,
he became suddenly disoriented, losing his balance.  In desperation
he reached out and grabbed onto the bars for support.  One of the
bars rotated, and broke free of the concrete, causing him to fall
back, painfully hitting the back of his head on the metal frame of
the cot.  Dust from the window frame spilled over him.  His vision
was bright reds, purples, blues, and then finally black as he
submitted gratefully into painless unconsciousness.
*********************************************************************
*****
    Razor painfully opened his eyes.  His head felt like it wanted to
split apart.  His vision was indistinct. He tried moving his arms,
only to find them pinned to something.  Looking around, his found his
eyes would not focus on any objects around him, but he saw a tall,
thin black object before him.  Purple/pink creatures jumped all
around him, and the gray room he was encompassed in as totally
engulfing  He felt his wrists and neck tied down with sharp wire as
he squirmed to learn the extent of his captivity.  He was laying on
his back as a large black mass with a purple face hovered before him.
    "Welcome back, SWAT Kat, I am glad to see you will make your
television debut conscious," a low voice rumbled. Dark Kat's face
curled into an evil grin.  "I found you laying unconscious again on
your cot.  Too bad.  I am sure that pounding in your head is quite
excruciating."  His voice carried confidence as he teased Razor.
Suddenly, his voice lowered to a growl. "I also found this." He
raised a metal bar, his knuckles paling as he gripped it strongly.
His eyes narrowed.  "It seems you were trying to escape," he growled,
readjusting his jaw as he threateningly swung the metal bar around.
"I couldn't let you do that."
    "You can't stop me, Dark Shit.  I will get out sometime."
Razor's voice was slurred and gargled.  His vision wasn't clearing,
and he could barely make out shapes.  His ears were ringing worse
than before, and any spoken word thundered and echoed through his
skull and only made his head more painful.  H could sense that his
coordination had not benefited from the abuse his head had taken.
Escape from this captivity in the situation he was in was not going
to be easy.
    "I wouldn't bet on it, SWAT Kat.  Your partner will come for you
after I make a live, primetime appearance on your behalf," he turned
and faced a large television camera previously to the back of him.
He worked on the focus as creeplings around him squawked and set up a
monitor.  "Tap into channel 42, my creeplings."  The creeplings
nodded at turned to channel 42.  Ann Gora's face filled the screen as
she broadcasted live from the scene of some accident.  Dark Kat
smiled and turned back to Razor, who was squinting trying to figure
out what was going on.
    "What do you want with me, Dark Kat?" he slurred.  
    "Simple.  As long as I have you, your partner will come running.
With both of you out of the way, I can take over the city."
    "Why do all the bad guys want to take over the city?" Razor
mumbled, not expecting an answer.
    Dark Kat cocked an eyebrow.  "It is simple, really.  I take over
the city, everything is in complete order.  There will be no crime."
    Razor's eyes widened and he paused for a minute.  Then, despite
the pain in his head, he began to chuckle.  "You're nuts!"
    "DON'T YOU SAY THAT!" Dark Kat boomed grabbed Razor by the collar
and dragged him near his face.  His breath hissed, ruffling the fur
around Razor's eyes.  "DON'T YOU *EVER* SAY THAT!" he yelled, his
voice echoing off the tall ceilings and bare walls of the room.
Razor gasped as the pain knifed through his skull.  "I AM NOT CRAZY!"
His voice lowered as his words came out barely perceptible as a hiss.
"I have been trying to control crime in this city for over 20 years,
and I have finally found a way.  Neither *you* nor the petty lowlife
enforcers will stand in my way.  I will control this city, and my
rule will fall over this city." His voiced raised and Razor winced at
the volume "NO MORE CRIME!!" His voiced echoed off the concrete
walls, and Razor pulled against his restraints.
    "So, in order to cure crime, you would add to it?  You *are*
nuts."  Razor gambled with Dark Kat's ego.  If he got mad or
distracted enough, Dark Kat might do something he would regret that
would result in giving Razor a chance to escape.
    "I TOLD YOU NEVER TO SAY THAT!!!" Dark Kat's face suddenly
crimsoned as blood rose to his face.  His face contorted into a
hateful smirk as he picked up his massive leg and stomped down on the
thinner, red-orange lowerleg.
    "AARRGHH!" Razor screamed out in pain as he heard and felt the
bones in his leg crunch.  Blurred black dots floated in front of his
eyes.  He gritted his teeth and forced back another scream as Dark
Kat turned away from him and continued with his preparations.  He
glanced over his shoulder nonchalantly.  "I told you never to say
that, and I meant it."  His voice changed to a harsher, deeper tone.
"Learn from it."
    Razor pulled his wrists against the restraints as the pain shot
up his leg in a red lightening bolt.  His eyes squeezed shut, forcing
out small droplets of tears as his teeth grinded into each other.  He
felt himself being lifted into a vertical position, but ignored it as
the red light on the camera clicked on.

*********************************************************************
*****

    T-Bone had flopped in a chair as the engines from the Turbokat
cooled and refueled.  He listened to the slow descending whine as his
head nodded down to his chest.  His tail hung limp, picking up dust
on the hangar floor.  One paw rested on the top of the helmet.  His
delta pack had been tossed on a nearby counter.  His eyelids lowered,
farther, and farther down.  The small movement in the tip of his tail
slowed, until it was nothing more than a spasmodic twitch every three
or four seconds.  The whine of the Turbokat lessened until it was no
longer perceptible as the outside world faded into a encompassing
black blanket.
    Suddenly, T-Bone found himself in a hazy and dim world.  He found
himself running, but to where he didn't know.  He just had this need
to run, to follow this dim light.  His legs ached, his joints
screamed out for relief, but he kept running.  The adrenaline in his
system would not let him stop.  His undying need for something,
something that light would give him, would not let him stop.
    He ran farther into the light, farther into the unknown.  Though
the blackness he was running from was inviting, he knew he had to run
into the light.  He heard no footsteps as he ran, just a muted call
for help.  It was a hekat's voice, barely perceptible through the
all-inclusive blackness.  T-Bone squinted and strained his eyes to
see a form reaching out to him in the light.  Someone he knows, and
holds in the highest regard.
    T-Bone stretched his legs out to capacity as he saw the figure
fall to the ground, his body laying still.  As he approached the
prone figure, he saw familiar butterscotch colored fur covering a
thin but strong body.  His friend's voice called out to him for help.
As T-Bone ran, his legs burning but his mind registering no pain, he
seemed to fall behind, his friend's body moving farther and farther
away.  He saw the blood trickling out of the side of his mouth,
clotting and staining the fur around it.  He saw the wild eyes of his
friend, knowing it was the end, but not knowing how to deal with it.
He saw his friend's paws reaching out to him, then falling limply by
his side.  He saw his left leg bent hideously underneath the
mechanic's overalls.  And as he ran, he found himself not as T-Bone,
the SWAT Kat, but as Chance Furlong, the mechanic and ex-Enforcer.
Finally he came up to the prone body of his friend and knelt beside
him.  Cradling his head in the crook of his arm, he carefully lifted
and supported the head, neck, and part of the chest of his friend.
    "T-Bone ... Chance ..." his friend weakly called out, his eyes
wildly rolling in his head.  He breathed hoarsely, weakly.  More
blood streamed out of his mouth as he spoke and formed a pool around
his head wound..
    "I'm here, buddy, I'm here.  Just hold on, we'll get you to a
doctor, you'll be fine, you'll see, you'll be fine, I promise."
    His friend eyes became hard.  There was no mercy in them as he
stared straight into the eyes of the burly kat.  He scowled.  
    "You failed me."
    His chest heaved for a last time, but his eyes remained hard,
condemning, penetrating the heart of the burly kat holding the body.
Chance visibly shook as he lowered the body.  He felt ill, he wanted
to vomit, but he didn't have anything in his stomach to bring up.
And as he set the body of his friend on the ground and stood himself
up, tears formed in his eyes.  Three words ran through his head.  The
picture of the accusing eyes of his partner were burned into his
brain.  The tone of voice, the hatred, the disappointment dripping
from his voice.  Three words that he hoped beyond hope he would never
hear from the mouth of his best friend and partner.  He looked around
at the lighted area.  The body, the brilliant whiteness around him.
But his mind only registered three words.
    "You failed me."
    He thought over all times he and Jake, or he and Razor, had
together, and he couldn't remember one time T-Bone had ever said that
to Razor.  There was one time he had come close, though.  After Razor
had accidentally blown up that warehouse and unknowingly become the
victim of one of Dark Kat's plans, he had yelled at him for nearly
getting the both of them killed when he hesitated at the trigger.  He
had said some cruel words to him then, and he just then realized that
if he hadn't said those words, Razor probably wouldn't have gone off
the deep end like he did.
    Chance silently stepped away from the body of his friend and
walked back into the dark haziness.  He wondered what his direction
was now.  His friend had been his guidance.
    The alarm klaxon forced him out of the black blanket him.  He
shook his head clear, and found himself shivering from the cold sweat
that had engulfed his body.  Three words still rang in his head and
he groggily took one step forward, then another.  Upon regaining his
balance sufficiently, he ran to the telephone on the wall.  He shut
off the alarm and picked up the receiver.
    "Yes Ms. Briggs?" he said, groggily wiping sleep from his eyes.
His mask had been tossed onto the keyboard of the computer.
    "It's not Callie this time, T-Bone," an assertive shekat voice
answered, "It's Lieutenant Felina Feral.  Have you been watching
Channel 42?"
    "Naw, I've been ... out of it.  Why?"
    Her voice took on a persistent and concerned tone.  "Just turn it
on."
    "Look, Lieutenant, I am not in the mood for ..." he argued,
annoyed.
    "JUST TURN IT ON!"
    Chance, taken aback by her scream, rubbed the final amount of
sleep out of his eyes and shuffled through the mess on the counter.
Finding the remote, he clicked on channel 42 and boosted the volume.
What he saw left him speechless.
    Dark Kat stood in front of the camera. He was in some sort of
large room, a hangar of some sort maybe.  The dull concrete walls
were worn.  He was smiling, and his deep set eyes were shining, like
a carnivore who has just found some prey.  His deep voice echoed
against the walls.
    " ... if control of Megakat City is not handed over to me by
midnight tonight personally by the other SWAT Kat," he boomed, "I
will personally see that Razor," he gestured over to his side and
stepped over to the side of the screen, revealing Razor hanging by
thin, almost wire-like restraints connected to the ceiling, "Will not
survive until morning.  And," he added, pointing straight into the
camera, "it will be on *your* head, SWAT Kat."   T-Bone's jaw dropped
as he saw Razor hanging just off the ground, supported by two wires
around each wrist, and one around his neck.  His flight suit was in
tatters and soaked in blood as it hung loosely on Razor's body.  His
tail was missing clumps of fur as it hung limply behind him.  His
usually wiry form was now almost gaunt.  Bruises and cuts shown
through the rips in his flight suit..  His arms were raised over his
head.  A stream of blood trickled down from where the wire had
already cut his neck.  One eye was swollen shut and a deep gash was
evident on the top of his head.  His ears laid weakly on the top of
his head.  His right hand was grotesquely misshapen and his glove was
ill-fitted.
    Chance's jaw fell to the ground as he saw his partner's limp form
dangling next to Dark Kat.  His heart disappeared from his chest as
he felt the cold fist grip his stomach again.
    But he had some hope when Razor's head lifted off his chest and
looked, eyes glassed over, in the direction of the camera.
    "Don't do it, T-Bone," he slurred in a whisper, shaking his head
slightly.  "The city comes first.  It is a trap," he gurgled
    "SHUT UP!" Dark Kat yelled as he swung behind him, clipping Razor
across the top of his head, leaving deep gashes across his wound as
his head snapped back to hit a creepling flying behind him.  The
creepling crumbled to the ground as Razor's head once again fell
lamely to his chest, unconscious.
    Dark Kat turned back to the screen.  "I am at Hangar 42 at the
old airport.  Come alone, SWAT Kat.  You have until midnight."  With
that, the screen faded into fuzzy static as Ann Gora's face
reappeared on the screen, speechless for once.
    Chance stared at the screen for a while.  His mouth hung open.
His heart still hadn't reappeared in his chest.  He felt ill as he
choked down a gag and the color drained from his face.
    "T-Bone?" Felina shook him out of his reverie.  "Hello?"  A sharp
inhalation on the other end told her he was still on the line.  "Pick
me up at Enforcer Headquarters in ten minutes.  I won't let you do
this alone."
    She heard a grunt.  "You heard what he said."  His voice was
distant, as if he were locked in his own thoughts instead of what was
going on around him.
    "He doesn't have to know."  Her voice softened.  "And you need
all the help you can get."
    Another grunt on the other end approved her request as the
connection was ended.
    T-Bone set slowly set down the receiver in a daze.  His eyes were
glassed over and unseeing as he stared at the screen, where Ann Gora
had regained her composure.  His jaw was slack.  His tail had stopped
its incessant worried twitching and laid still on the ground.  He was
numb.  When the alarm went off next to him, it took him several
seconds to shakily push his arm out and pick up the receiver.  He
softly held it near his ear.
    After another few seconds of silence, Callie's voice filtered
through.  "T-Bone?  T-Bone, are you there?"
    There was silence for a couple more seconds.  In the background
Callie could just hear the shuffle of clothes as a voice, steady but
unconfident, answered.  "Yeah?" 
    "Are you okay, I mean, did you see the transmission on Channel
42?"  Callie voice displayed her worry.  Her words came painfully as
she chose them carefully.  Her voice wavered slightly as she spoke.
    "Yeah, I saw it." the steady but deflated voice of T-Bone met her
ear again.
    "So we only have one choice, right?"  Her voice, though meant to
be hopeful, gave away the disconsolation in her voice.  She did not
want to put the city in the charge of that wacko, but a kat's life
was at stake at this point.
    "What's that, Ms. Briggs?"  This voice had a little more strength
behind it, a small tinge of curiosity mixed within.
    "Give Dark Kat what he wants."  When she didn't hear any reaction
from T-Bone on the other line, she became worried.  "Right, T-Bone?"
she prompted.
    "I don't know if ... " his voice was hesitant.  He knew what he
was doing was right, but it was the last thing he wanted to do.  He
thought of all the adventures he and Razor had had in the Turbokat.
All the times he and Jake had had in the Enforcers.  All the deep
conversations Jake would start, and Chance, in order to avoid
boredom, would join.  "What I mean is, that, maybe, um,"
    "T-Bone," Callie's voice was strong, persistent, "we are going to
give Dark Kat what he wants, right?"
    A particular conversation flashed through Chance's head.  They
were both so young at the time ...
    Jake had gone into the Enforces right out of high school. Chance
he had given college a shot, and had spent too much time partying to
realize that college was meant for education.  They had been assigned
to be partners after they had both gone through training together,
and their instructors had found them inseparable.  They sat a dusky
table in the corner of a bar about fifteen minutes from the Enforcer
Headquarters.  Chance had the sleeves of his denim shirt rolled up to
his elbows, his tiger-striped arms shining orange as he glanced
around the bar at some of the other Enforcers that had the night off.
The beer in front of him shone almost vermilion in the setting sun as
he brought it up to his lips, half laughing at a friend.  Jake sat in
the seat across from him, his loose flannel shirt literally hanging
on him.  A off-white hockey team hat sat on his head as his eyes
passed over the lines of a newly-written letter that had been sent to
him.  He seemed to tune out the noisy atmosphere around him, of kats
laughing and patting each other on the back, of kats playing pool and
darts, and occasional bar fights over a poker game.  They both were
relatively popular guys in the Enforces, and they were surrounded by
friends.  They had sped through the ranks very quickly, reaching
Lieutenants quicker than anyone in the history of the Enforces.
Chance held just about every record for strength and combat fighting,
while Jake held them in speed and accuracy.  They were the cream of
the crop.  Their lives were pretty good, by all measures.  Chance
looked over at Jake, and his smile disappeared.  His green eyes
suddenly stopped shining at the things going on around him and took
on a more concerned look as he saw his partner and best friend's
face.
    As he was reading the letter, Jake's face had gone from elation
to getting a night off and a letter from his father, to one of
suffering and worry.  "Hey, Jake," Chance asked, trying to liven his
partner's mood "What's the matter, buddy?  You are supposed to be
happy!  We have a night off!"
    Jake gave no indication of hearing Chance's remarks.
    "Hey, Jake," Chance said a little louder, "Maybe you should get
those big ears of yours checked.  I said ... "
    "I heard what you said, Chance," Jake said, propping his head up
on his hand as he elbow rested on the tabletop.  He finished his beer
in one large swig and adjusted the hat on his head.  Chance looked at
him suspiciously.  Jake could usually nurse one or two beers all
night.  He just polished one off in ten minutes.
    Chance tilted his head in an attempt to see his partner's face,
but Jake's face remained focused on the letter, tilted downward.
Chance's voice softened a little.
    "Hey, Buddy, are you all right?" he asked, now concerned.
    "Dad's getting worse."  Those three words made Chance's stomach
fall to the floor.
    "How do you know?  Did he tell you?" he nearly whispered over the
loud crowd around them.  Thankfully, no one noticed Jake's withdrawal
from the conversation.  Most of them were too drunk already.
    "Na, he wouldn't tell me.  He wouldn't want me to worry.  But I
can tell.  His writing is getting messier, harder to read, like he
couldn't put as much energy into it," he said, looking up from the
letter and into Chance's eyes.
    Chance narrowed his eyes as he looked into Jake's face.  His
caramel-colored brows were furrowed, his ears drooping slightly.  His
brown eyes showed off his concern.  His lips were thin and his jaw
was set in a hard line, trying to fight off what he was feeling.
Chance did that to hide what he was feeling, Jake did it to fight it
off.  To most, it looked like he was pissed about something, so they
stayed away.  To Chance, it was a subtle plea for a needed emotional
release.
    Chance knew why Jake joined the Enforces, a reason most others
didn't know ... or cared to know.  Jake's mother died when he was
growing up, leaving his father to support himself and four kittens.
Jake, being the oldest, stepped up into the mother role as his father
worked late hours.  When he was fourteen, and most teens were
starting to date and hang out with their friends, Jake was cooking,
cleaning and shopping for the family.  He never dated ... his family
was too important.  When his father began to get sick, he had
contracted cancer, Jake's meager college fund went to keeping the
family afloat, and trying to care for his father.  As his father got
worse, it was Jake's turn to go to work.  He worked at an afterschool
job, while the next oldest, his sister Theresa, took over the
"mothering" duties.  As soon as he graduated from high school, he had
joined the Enforces.  They paid well, and his family needed the
money.  Even today, every bit of his paycheck went back to his
family, except ten bucks every two weeks.  That was his own spending
money.  He usually went out only once in those two weeks, and never
spent a penny more than ten bucks.  He never wanted to borrow money,
even though anyone would lend him some.  He just would never know
when and if he could pay that kat back.
    "Ya wanna go back to headquarters?" Chance asked, barely making
sure he was heard over the din.
    Jake nodded.  "But you stay here.  I don't want to ruin your
evening out too."
    "Bull.  We're partners, remember?"  Chance looked at his watch
7:45.  Shit, this would take some convincing as to why they were
leaving this early.
    Trying to make as little ruckus as possible, they headed through
the crowd of kats, careful not to step on any tails.  They paid the
bartender at the bar.  They chuckled as they saw a gray kat passed
out, slumped over a chair, an empty beer mug in his hand.  Chance
shook his head and smiled, "Leave it to Smitty to be out before
eight." he chuckled.  Nearing the doorway, Chance had a faint gleam
of hope that they would make it there before anyone noticed they were
gone.
   "Hey!  Chance, Jake!  Where you guys' going?" someone shouted from
behind him.
    "Shit," Chance though, before turning around to face the crowd,
but his mouth hung open stupidly as his mind went blank on what to
say.
    "Going to pick up some shekats," Jake yelled back, a convincing
smile spreading over his face.
    "Hey, then wait for us!" the same kat yelled at them.
    "Na," Jake continued, "We like the kind you *don't* have to pay
for!"  Jake smiled his patented sarcastic smile as the room behind
him burst out in laughter, and the offending kat sat down and turned
red.
    As the two friend's walked down the street, the jovial sounds of
the bar faded away behind them as Chance waited until Jake began to
talk.  That was how it always was.  Jake would talk.  And Chance
would listen.  Occasionally it was the other way around, but not very
often. Chance tended to keep things to himself until he exploded at
someone or something.  Jake talked, and for that reason he was the
mellower, calmer, and more logical one of the pair.
    "Dad's undergoing what he calls 'testing,'" Jake sighed.  "He
figured that since this is a relatively new disease that they didn't
know much about, he could help them learn.  He figured since he was
going to die anyway, that he might as well help someone in the
process."  Jake chuckled sadly as he stared down at the cracks in the
sidewalk.  The summer sun, so low in the sky, made their shadows long
and thin in front of them.  The streets were nearly deserted.  "I
understand why he is doing it .. I hope I would do the same if I were
in his position.  He is playing the honorable martyr and helping
people instead of withering away without a purpose."  Jake shoved his
paws into the pockets of his jeans.  He paused for a moment, and
Chance saw his jaw reform into a hard line, his lips thinning as he
pressed them together.  "I just wish it wasn't my father who had to
play the martyr.  I think he might be going through more pain than he
would be without the 'testing.'  It is sort of freaky, really.  It
reminds me of a line in a book I once read ..."
    "I told you those things will rot your brain ... " Chance
interrupted, smiling a little.  "Saturday morning cartoons are much
better for you."
    It was Jake's turn to chuckle.  "Yeah, like Scardy Kat.
*There's* a literary masterpiece."
    "Sorry, I had to say it.  You are always reading those books,
keeping me up at night with that stupid light.  What was the line you
were talking about again?"
    "The saying really is common sense, if you think about, but no
one wants to admit it when it comes to them."
    "What's that?"
    "'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few ... or
one'," Jake quoted, shoving his paws deeper into his pockets.
    "Dang, that's deep.  Didn't I see that on a Star Trek movie
once?"
    Jake, finding his attempt at levity heartening, placed his
forehead in the palm of his paw and shook his head, chuckling
slightly.  "Yeah, I think it was the second one," Jake answered
"Wrath of, err, someone.  Some guy with a large, exposed chest.  That
one kat died in it, the one with the funky round ears instead of
pointed ones ... "
    "Spock." Chance stated directly.
   "Yeah!  Him!  He had some weird ears.  He said that line."
    "What was the quote again?"
    "'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few ... or
one'," Jake repeated.
    "Damn, that's deep.  You believe that, Jake?"
    "Yeah, I guess."
   "Damn, you're deep."
   "Shut up, Chance."
    "You first, kiddo."
   "I don't think so!"  With that, Jake jumped on Chance, and
throughout the street, nothing could be heard but the playful
wrestling match of two friends.

    "He wants it that way ... "  Chance whispered, his eyes unfocused
as the memory of he and Jake fighting in the street that Thursday
night faded from his mind's eye.
    "What was that, T-Bone?"
    "Huh?  Oh, nothing Ms. Briggs.  Don't worry, we will find Razor
and get him back."  T-Bone's voice was confident again as his tail
swished madly behind him.  He searched around on the counter for
where he tossed his mask.  "But we won't give into the demands of
that lunatic."
    "But T-Bone," Callie pleaded, "you heard what Dark Kat said.
He'll kill Razor.  We have to give him what he wants or else ... "
    "Look, Ms. Briggs, I haven't ever lost a partner, and I am not
about to start now.  But I will not give the entire city to Dark Crud
in order to save Razor.  I would give up my own life to save him, but
I cannot gamble the lives of countless innocent civilians."
   "But, if Razor ... "
    "Razor would agree with me, Ms. Briggs," he said conclusively,
ending the argument.  He quieted his tone.   "He taught me something
a while ago, and I just now understand it."
    "Huh?"
    "Never mind.  T-Bone out."

*********************************************************************
*****
    T-Bone flew through the night sky and hastily checked his watch.
Dark Kat had interrupted the ten o'clock broadcast of Kat's Eye News.
According to the watch, it was 11:15.  As he neared Enforcer
Headquarters, he activated the VTOL engines and hovered over the
runway.  Hastily glancing around him to avoid any unnecessary law
enforcement, he noticed a single enforcer, flak jacket slung over her
shoulder, running to the jet.  She tossed the vest into the seat,
then pulled herself up to the wing, holding her helmet on.  As she
put on her vest and buckled herself in, T-Bone closed the canopy and
lifted off, as a small squadron of Enforcers burst through the door
and started firing at the Turbokat.
    "We've got to stop meeting like this, Lieutenant," T-Bone joked,
allowing a small smile to spread across his face.
    Felina chuckled slightly.  "What's the plan?"  She peered out of
the side of the canopy, and stared at the laser show of enforcer
weapons firing at the Turbokat.
    "We go to the old airport."
    "What exactly are we going to do?  We aren't going into this
without a plan, are we?"
    "Well, um, I haven't exactly gotten that far.  We'll think of
something when we get there."
    "You're kidding, right?"
    There was no answer from the pilot's seat.
    "T-Bone?  We're not going into this blind, right?"
    Silence.
    "T-BONE!?"
    T-Bone glanced up into the mirror above his head and stared at
Felina.  "Let's just say we will play it by ear."
    Felina covered her face with her paw.  "Shit.  I was afraid you
would say that."
    About two minutes of pointless bickering later, T-Bone eased the
jet over to the east and put on more thrusters to reach the old
airport.
    "Hey, T-Bone?"
    "Yeah?"
    "I have an idea."
    T-Bone ears swiveled around to Felina.  "Let's hear it."
    "It is simple, really.  If I remember correctly, the old airport
was built around the same time as City Hall."
    There was a pause in front of her.  "So?"
    "So ..." Felina continued, "That would mean the sewers would lead
directly into it, just like City Hall."
    "So you would sneak in by sewers while I go in like I was alone?"
    "Dark Kat wanted you to go alone.  This will give us the illusion
of you being alone, while I would really be covering your tail."
    "How would you get through the sewer system?  And into hangar
42?"
    T-Bone waited for a response, but it was slow in coming.
    Felina squinted her eyes as she tried to remember something about
the old airport that could maybe help them, but came up empty.  It
had closed even before she was born, and since it was really in the
middle of nowhere and not harming anything, no one had bothered to
tear it down.  She smoothed the fur along her jaw, and then cocked an
eyebrow. "I'm not real sure."
  She heard a frustrated chuckle from T-Bone in the pilot's seat.
"So we're back to square one, huh?"
    "Maybe not.  When Razor and I were infiltrating City Hall ..."
she immediately regretted she had said it as T-Bone's ears drooped,
and through the mirror she could see his face contort into a still
wince.  She had reminded him of what he had seen that day ... the
blood spread across the walls, Dark Kat's jet taking off without him
being able to do one thing about it.  Her mouth hung in mid-sentence.
She was not sure whether to continue, or to shut it.
    The uncomfortable silence was interrupted by T-Bone.  "And ..."
he retorted.
    She shifted uneasily in her seat, knowing very well she was not
the one he wanted sitting there, and also knowing that if they didn't
hurry, there wouldn't be anyone else to sit in the seat.  "Um, well,
we used your glove-things to direct us."
    T-Bone narrowed his eyes as he thought.  "You must mean the maps
he has programmed into our glovatrixes.  But only he has maps and the
tracking gadgets."  He shrugged a shoulder.  "I never had any use for
that stuff, Razor always did ..."  His mouth hung open as he didn't
finish his sentence, then snapped shut with an audible click of his
teeth.
    He didn't need to finish his sentence; Felina understood.  She
understood how much he had to lose.  "T-Bone?" she asked softly,
placing her paw on his shoulder.  "We'll find him, and we'll get him
back.  I promise."  She saw him nod in front of her as she pulled her
paw away, but his eyes avoided hers in the mirror.  Her brow furrowed
and her mouth turned into a slight frown in worry.  She didn't know
how T-Bone would react when he saw his partner in person, dangling
from those wires.  A shiver passed through her.  She didn't want to
know how T-Bone would react.  She was afraid to think about it.
    A lifetime of silence passed before them before T-Bone spoke
again.
    "Take the stick, Lieutenant."
    "Pardon me?"
    "I said," T-Bone said irritably, "'take the stick.' I am
switching to auxiliary control panel.  Just keep it flying straight,
and I'll be right back."
    Felina tentatively grasped the stick in between her knees, while
wondering where a kat could go in a jet.   When she looked in mirror
to the pilot's seat again, she found T-Bone had disappeared.
    "T-Bone?" she asked, looking around the cockpit.
    "Yeah?"  She once again looked in the mirror and found he had
reappeared.
    "Where did you go?"
    "Weapons storage.  Here."  He tossed back one of their
glovatrixes.  "Be careful with that, and do *not* put it on.  Use
only the map on it.  That can be activate by those two blue buttons
on the side.  Do *not* use anything else.  You don't know how to use
it, and one muscle spasm in your arm can set the thing off,
understand?"  She nodded her head weakly, marveling at the intricate
wiring and craftsmanship.  She had never seen one of them up close.
She had shakily picked it up off her lap and had just begun to slip
it over her paw.  "I SAID NOT TO PUT IT ON!!" T-Bone's voice boomed
within the cockpit, and made Felina jump.  "You don't seem to
understand, Lieutenant.  I was not joking when I said one muscle
movement could set it off.  It was designed so we could have one arm
free while the other operated the glovatrix.  Now, once again, do
*NOT*, I repeat, do *NOT* try to put it, do you understand me?"
    Felina nodded again, still mystified by the gadget.
    "I DON'T WANT A NOD, I WANT A YES OR A NO!!"
    "OKAY!  Okay, I won't play with it," she answered, slightly
humbled by T-Bone's authority.  And she thought her uncle could sound
threatening.
    "Good.  Now, just use the map, and I will drop you off at the
closest sewer grate to the old airport.

*********************************************************************
*****
    A dazed and exhausted shekat stumbled from the exit of the
emergency room of Megakat University Bethesda Children's Jewish St
Mary's Christ Hospital.  Achingly, she let her ponytail drop down to
her shoulders as she removed they band that had been holding it back.
Sighing deeply, she ran her paws through her light brown hair,
allowing her green eyes to poke through her bangs.  Her small mouth
opened wide as she let out a loud yawn, while simultaneously waving
at the crew behind her.  "I guess I will see you guys tomorrow night,
same time, same channel."
    "Yeah, okay!  Catchya later, Dr. Pryde," came an answer from
within as another patient was wheeled in.
    "Damn," she yawned again, walking slowly to the subway station,
"George Clooney and Anthony Edwards have nothing on me," she said out
loud.  "Wish I got paid as much as they did, though" she quipped
underneath her breath.  Reaching the subway station, she sat down
tiredly and smoothed the red-blond fur around her nose.  She wondered
when those two mechanics in the salvage yard would be done with that
car of hers.  She had tried calling them on one of her breaks that
day, only to find that no one would answer the phone.  She found that
odd, but figured she could wait another day or so to get her '87
station wagon back.  Her eyes rested comfortably half-closed as she
dreamed of her bed and the cool flannel sheets.  She really had to
stop agreeing to cover other people's shifts.  Nearly 24 hours
straight in the ER was enough to make anyone go nuts.  She lazily
curled her tail around her legs as sat down on a bench in the subway
station.  Her tail was very full at the tip, but the fur tapered down
as the tail reached her body.  She was awaken out of her
contemplation by a thundering overhead, and looked up, wide-eyed to
see the Turbokat streaking.  She had heard something on the news
about them as she had raced through her work, attending to patients.
Something about one of them getting hurt, or katnapped, or killed ...
something like that.  She had not bought into the SWAT Kat craze that
had been sweeping Megakat City ever since they had appeared a couple
of years ago.  She had no desire to find out their real identities,
unlike many people in the city.  Some nuts would actually collect as
much information on them as they could, and then make random guesses
as to who they were.  She didn't buy any of the tabloid headlines:
"SWAT Kats Really Aliens," or "I had one of the SWAT Kat's Children,"
or "I had One of the SWAT Kats Alien Children."  All she wanted to do
was to live her own life, and although she was grateful to the city's
"masked heroes," as most called them, she doubted she would get a
chance to thank them in person, so she didn't bother seeking them
out.  She giggled slightly when she thought of all the times they had
made a fool of the commander of the Enforcers ... what was his name
again?  Feral, yeah, that was it, Feral.  At least they were good for
comedic relief.  She smiled again, then frowned deeply as she
realized that the train she was waiting for was not coming for a good
long while.  She glanced at her watch ... 11:30.  Damn, her train
wouldn't be here for another 45 minutes.  She willed herself up, and
stumbled back to the hospital, choosing instead to nap on a gurney in
a hospital than a bench in a subway station.

*********************************************************************
*****
    T-Bone suspiciously glanced around the old, run down building.
He assumed it to be some sort of office.  It connected to all the
hangars in the area, which numbered three.  How the hell the came up
with Hangar 42, he had no clue.  Weeds had taken over most of the
runway, and when he turned the corner, he found mostly forest and
trees.  He had found it odd that they would put a airport right smack
dab in the middle of a forest.  He shrugged.  "There's Megakat City
building officials, for ya," he said flippantly as he looked up to
the second floor.  The moonlight glinted off his helmet, and he could
just make out a barred window, and, unless he missed his guess, there
was a bar missing from it.  Cocking an eyebrow, he silently listened
to the crickets singing in the nearby woods as he tried to figure out
the best way to get inside.  Dark Kat was expecting him, afterall, so
his guard was up.  As silently as he could, he fired a grappling hook
up through the window on the second floor.  The poor lightening,
compounded by his non-Sureshot aim, landed it precariously on the
ledge.  "Hey, works for me," he whispered as he felt himself being
pulled up by the arm.
    Upon reaching the window, he glanced inside, and found no
creeplings anywhere.  He swiveled his ears, but they were met with
complete silence.  He furrowed his brows as he removed the bars one
by one by pulling them out.  It made no sense.  The crickets in the
background faded as he moved jumped down from the window onto a cot.
He didn't give a second glance to the ripped apart pillow lying on
the cot, or the blood stains.  He simply walked out through the
unlocked cell door.
    And then it hit him.  Why would there be a cell and barred
windows in an airport?  And why would there be blood stains if the
place was supposed to have been deserted for over 25 years?  He
walked back over to the cot and looked at it.  He spied a darker
shadow than most underneath the cot and reached for it.  He pulled
out a ripped and torn black glove with the first two knuckles cut out
of each finger.  Amazed, T-Bone looked at his own hand.  It was the
same style of glove.  T-Bone let his jaw fall slightly as he realized
*why* there were barred windows and a cell in an airport.  He felt
his blood race.  His face contorted into a tight mask of anger as he
violently stuffed the glove into the black pouches on his flight
suit, kicked open the door, and stormed down the stairs.

*********************************************************************
*****
    Felina stooped to accommodate the low ceiling as she inched her
way through the sewer system beneath the old airport.  The stench of
moldy concrete reached her nostrils as she shooed away a rat crawling
over her feet.  Scrunching her nose up, she pulled the glovatrix of
her belt and depressed the two buttons on the side that T-Bone had
indicated.  Immediately, the confined stone barriers of the tunnel
were illuminated with a bright green glow of the glovatrix screen
sliding open.  Her ears swiveled forward as she studied the map,
trying to get her bearings.    "Let's see, now," she mumbled looking
up from the small guide to the tunnel ahead of her.  "If I have this
right ... the main sewer entrance to the .... hmm," she paused,
glancing down again and looking curiously at the device.  "Damn it!"
Her curse of frustration echoed off the walls, and floated down the
tunnels.  She growled and grabbed her flashlight.  "Where the hell
..." she mumbled again as her footsteps echoed forever against the
walls.  Stomping through the muck of the sewer, she eventually came
to small side tunnel that would require her to crawl.  She shuddered
as she pushed back the spider webs and wiped the greenish brown
substance that seemed to be growing there.  "This can't be it," she
mumbled as she walked past it.  A loud beeping from the glovatrix in
her paw startled her, her heart jumping into her throat.  She glanced
back down at the glovatrix.  "Oh shit," she muttered, "that tunnel
*is* it."  She stared at the slime-coated rat-infested crawl space
and sighed.  Her jaw clenched, and her nose shriveled farther as she
entered the tunnel on paws and knees.  "They better love me for
this," she growled, slipping on a pile of muck and landing on her
face.  "They better freakin' *love* me."

*********************************************************************
*****

    T-Bone slid silently pressed tightly against the wall.  He had
checked his watch only moments before, and it had read 11:30.
Silently, he pleaded with Razor to hang on.  He had neither seen nor
heard of any creeplings.  He thought that odd, but afterall, Dark Kat
*was* expecting him.  Just not from this angle.
    As he neared a corner, the chatterings and squawkings of
creepling reached his ears and he swiveled them in that direction.
As he rounded the corner, he saw his partner.  Or rather, what looked
like his partner.  He saw Razor hanging by his neck and wrists by a
thin, strong wire.  He saw his leg bent at a hideous angle.  One leg
of his flight suit was torn off, revealing deep gouges and tears in
the flesh and fur of the leg.  Across his stomach was another gash
that cut through the middle of a huge mass of swollen, purple
bruises.  His flight suit was torn and battered.  In places it was
stained and caked with blood.  One sleeve was missing and blood
trickled down that arm from the wire.  His right paw was swollen
almost beyond recognition as it was deep shades of blue and purple.
His face was nothing more than a series of welts and bruises.  One
eye was most definitely swollen shut.  The other was shut as his head
hung forward, restricted only by the wire nearly slitting his throat.
T-Bone saw as blood tickled out of the side of his mouth, clotting
and staining the fur around it.  T-Bone swayed for a second, suddenly
remembering his dream.  The burly kat placed a paw to his forehead as
he saw the blood of his best friend roll off the skewed bandanna and
landed harmlessly on the concrete floor.  It was followed by another,
and another as T-Bone watched.
    As each drop hit the floor, he felt a red haze filter up from the
depths.  His ears laid back on his head.  His eyes narrowed.  His jaw
clamped and his teeth ground against each other.  His paws clenched
into a tight fist as his nails unconsciously bared, digging into his
paws.  The red haze filled his body and he leapt from his hiding
place, releasing the haze through a savage yell.
    Surprised, Dark Kat turned to see a nearly-insane yellow blur
race at him, knocking him to the ground.  "YOU!" T-Bone yelled,
pinning him to the ground and grabbing his collar.  He threw a punch
that connected to Dark Kat's jaw.  "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?!?!?!"
T-Bone pointed behind him, to the hanging body of his friend.  "WHAT
DID YOU DO TO HIM?!?!?"  T-Bone threw another punch, and blood
spurted out of the previously unbroken nose of Dark Kat.
    "Well," Dark Kat answered levely, calmly wiping blood from his
nose, "after our 'television debut'," Dark Kat smirked at the memory,
"I allowed my creeplings to work on your partner."
    "What do you mean?" T-Bone growled, his eyes little more than
slits.
    "Quite simple, really," he confidently replied.  "I allowed by
creeplings to work on him ... to see how well he would make a
punching bag."
    A creepling had sneaked up behind T-Bone and suddenly jumped on
his back.  Without taking his eyes off of Dark Kat, he ripped the
annoying menace off his flight suit and tossed it away.  He didn't
see a larger litter of creeplings sneaking up behind him.
    "You lie, Dark Shit."
    "Do I?" Dark Kat smiled, clearly amused.  "Are you sure of that,
SWAT Kat?  Why, anyone can look at the thing over there," he gestured
easily over to the hanging body of Razor, "and tell he has been
through a lot."
    Creeplings kept their chatterings to themselves as they neared
the SWAT Kat on top of Dark Kat.
    "You did this."
    Dark Kat almost giggled.  "You're right.  And whoever said Razor
is the brains of the SWAT Kats.  Oh, I'm sorry, *was* the brains of
the SWAT Kats."  Dark Kat's eyes narrowed as he smiled.  He watched
T-Bone's fill with fury, and he saw his creeplings sneaking up behind
him.
    "You lie,"  T-Bone hissed.
    "Do I?"
    Suddenly, without warning, squawkings and yelling behind him made
T-Bone spin.  He came face to face with a hoard of creeplings heading
straight for him.  He barely had time to raise his glovatrix when red
bolts of pure energy tore through their bodies, rendering them
lifeless on the floor.  He whipped his head around, and, for a moment
he thought he saw a short, wiry, caramel-colored kat triumphantly
yelling "bingo!"  Instead, he saw a tall, strong jawed cream-colored
shekat blowing off the tip of her still smoking gun.  "Got'em."
T-Bone gestured towards the controls where Dark Kat previously had
been working, indicating that Felina should try to figure them out.
He turned his attention back towards the prone figure he had been
pinning down.
    "Naughty, naughty," Dark Kat taunted, talking to Felina.  He
shifted uncomfortable under T-Bone's weight. "I wouldn't press those
buttons if I were you.  You see, the wrong series of buttons could
actually tighten the wires around your friend's neck."  He shook his
head patronizingly.  "That's not very good for him."
    "Then how do we get him down?" T-Bone hissed, scowling.
    "Well," Dark Kat oozed, "I suppose you could cut the wires down."
    "Then let's do it." T-Bone ordered.
    "But, y'see," Dark Kat fidgeted.  "If you cut the neck wire
first, the wrist wires will slit his wrist.  Now, that would be a
pity, because he doesn't have much blood left in his system now
anyway."  He looked up at T-Bone.  "He lost it in the 'boxing match'
my creeplings played with him."  T-Bone's fist clenched harder around
Dark Kat's collar.  "Of course," he continued, " you could cut the
wrist ones first, but that would leave him hanging ... so to speak."
He laughed at his own joke.   "And you cold cut all three wires at
the same time, but y'see, I planned it that a current was running
through those wires, and if all three get cut at the same time, well,
those wires have electrodes inserted into his neck.  So, it would
electrocute him.  Y'see, my dead SWAT Kat, err, I'm sorry a little
Freudian slip there, my *dear* SWAT Kat, it is your decision.  Kill
him by electrocution, loss of blood, or broken vertebrae.  It *is*
your decision.  Any way, it looks like you are shit out of luck."
    "Wrong, Dark Kat.  You are.  Tell us the codes to get my partner
down."
    Dark Kat shook his head.  He played tough, but T-Bone saw the
fear building in his eyes, while his own rage built.  "I don't think
so."
    T-Bone face neared his.  "Tell us the codes," T-Bone hissed.
    Dark Kat's forehead began to crease.  "I don't think so," he
squeaked.
    T-Bone ripped his right arm off Dark Kat's collar and pointed it
at his face, glovatrix armed.  "Tell us the damn codes!!!" he yelled,
the echo bouncing off the bare walls.
    "I don't think so," he whispered.  His mouth turned into a frown.
His eyebrows fretted over his fear-filled eyes.
    T-Bone flexed his paw slightly, bringing a buzz-saw blade to rest
outside the casing.  "Tell us the codes!!"  The echoes faded off the
walls.
    "I d-don't think s-so."  T-Bone scraped the buzz-saw blade
against the neck of Dark Kat, shaving off some fur and drawing blood.
    "I believe your jugular thinks otherwise," T-Bone whispered,
glaring, a growl emanating from depths previously unknown to anyone.
    "10-25-79-6-6-98"
    "What was that?  Say it louder, dip shit."
    "10-25-79-6-6-98"
    "Did you get that, Lieutenant?
    "Loud and clear, T-Bone.  Plugging it in now."
    "Good.  I will take care of this garbage."  He turned his
attention back to Dark Kat.  "You would probably want me to let you
go now, wouldn't you?"
    Dark Kat nodded, eliciting more blood from his neck.
    "Well, tell you what.  I'm not going to let you.  As a matter of
fact, I am going to make it so you won't hurt anyone ever again, you
got that?"
    He nodded weakly again, and winced and he felt more blood trickle
down his neck.
    "Not me, not the Enforcers, not anyone," he heard machines
lowering his partner's limp body, "especially not my partner," he
growled as he shoved the blade farther into his neck, slowly, as Dark
Kat struggled underneath him.  T-Bone found it amazingly
exhilarating, this huge villain struggling to get away, knowing he
was in complete control.  His eyes flashed as he forced the blade
farther into his throat, blood spurting from the wound.  He grinned
as Dark Kat moaned from the pain.  "Now who's in power, Dark Shit?"
T-Bone gloated, his eyes dancing. "Now who has power over the life of
another?  I intend to show you as much mercy as you showed my
partner!!" His voice once again echoed off the walls, and startled
Felina as she searched for a pulse on Razor.  She stood up and looked
him.  Slowly, she walked over to him, and placed a paw on his
shoulder.
    "Stop, T-Bone."
    "What?!?!"  T-Bone was aghast
    "I said stop.  He isn't worth it."
    "He deserves to die," T-Bone argued, his voice as steady as the
blade against Dark Kat's neck.
    "Who made you judge, jury and executioner?"
    "He did.  After he killed Razor."
    "He's not dead T-Bone.  Not yet at least."
    Keeping a force on the blade lodged in Dark Kat's neck, he looked
up at her.  "What?"
     "He's not dead yet, T-Bone.  He has a weak pulse."
    A toothy smile darted across T-Bone's face, but it quickly
disappeared as he looked back at Dark Kat.
    "Don't do it, T-Bone.  Killing Dark Kat won't help Razor."
    T-Bone looked at Dark Kat, the purple kat's eyes pleading for
mercy.  Razor's eyes not doubt did that before as well. The haze
built up in him again as he thought about how Razor must have
suffered, waiting for T-Bone to show up and stop the agony.  But
would Razor want him killing Dark Kat, even if it was to avenge him?
He thought about what Razor must have felt when T-Bone never showed
up for him  But would Razor want him killing Dark Kat?  The pain
Razor had been going through.  His paw, infected.  His head,
throbbing.  He was defenseless.  Abandoned.  Alone.  And failed by
his best friend.
    "No."
    Felina looked at him curiously as he stood up, his paws on either
side of his head.  He leveled the glovatrix at Dark Kat.  He stared
down at him, scowling, and before Felina could stop him, his wrist
flexed, and he fired directly at Dark Kat.
    Within a second, Dark Kat was struggling against the strong cords
of a mini-spider missile.  Seeing what T-Bone had done, Felina retook
her position by Razor's side. 
    T-Bone tiredly walked up to her and painfully knelt beside Razor.
"I didn't want to fail him again," he said, touching his partner's
arm lightly.  His face, though still, was not peaceful.  It was
contorted in a permanent wince.  His jaw was clenched, and his lips
pulled back to reveal his teeth.  
    "What do we do now?" Felina broke the silence between them.
T-Bone slowly reached into one of the pockets of his flight suit, and
brought out a small with packet.  Ripping the top of it off, he held
it under Razor's nose.
    "Smelling salts," he answered before Felina could ask.  Seconds
went by in complete silence without a reaction from the prone SWAT
Kat.  "C'mon, buddy," T-Bone whispered, "don't scare me like this."
    One of Razor's eyelids began to flutter, the other remaining
swelled shut.  It eventually opened, revealing a bloodshot, unfocused
eye.  T-Bone smiled slightly as he saw the brown eye move.  But he
frowned again as it started to roll around widely in its socket.  It
suddenly got very still, and stared straight ahead, unseeing.  It
began to dilate despite the bright lights of the hangar.  T-Bone's
heart stopped in his chest when saw his friend's eye roll back into
his head.
    "NO!!" He yelled, searching around for something to stop the
horrible rolling.  Grabbing the used smelling salts, he shoved it
into the wound on Razor's paw.  His eye snapped back in pain and then
closed again, leaving Felina holding his wrist for a pulse.
    "We gotta get him outta here, T-Bone, and fast.  He won't last
much longer.  You get the jet, I will stay here."
    "No.  I need to stay here.  If he ..."
    Felina looked up at him, and suddenly understood.  She looked
into the covered eyes of this vigilante, this mask who she had known
for a while.  Not once did it occur to her that he was just a regular
kat underneath the flight suit and mask.  That he had a life, family,
loves, and friends.  She nodded weakly despite herself. 
    "It's exactly like an Enforcer jet.  You should be fine.  It is
off of runway two," he said in a whisper, emotion starting to
encroach on his speaking.  He got closer to his partner, and picked
him up gingerly, cradling his head and neck in the crook of his arm.
He stood on weak legs.  "I'll meet you outside."
    Felina nodded.  As she ran out of the hangar on her way to the
Turbokat, she left T-Bone to his thoughts and his fallen partner
bleeding lifelessly in his protective arms.
*********************************************************************
*****

Okay, guys, I know you aren't going to be happy, but that's all for
today.  I orginally expected this to be a three parter, but it looks
like it might be a little bit longer than that.  Once again, please
please please email me with any and all comments, suggestion, etc at
Penguinchk@aol.com  Thanks again, and stay tuned to DJ's page for
more updates.