Chapter 35

There was only so much that they could do trapped inside Stonebrook, but they did the best they could.

Things stalled after the family divided up into the battle lines, and July faded into August as they simply waited for both the FAA and Vil's own investigations to track down exactly who had tried to kill her. They were more or less waiting for that, because nothing else was really happening or changing.

Every day settled into a routine for Kit and Jessie. They would wake up, eat breakfast, then Kit would listen in on the boring board meeting while Jessie either knitted or went down to the gym and pool for a low-intensity workout. Kit would work out himself after the meeting, they would eat lunch, then they would do something with Muffy, who was awake by then. More often than not, they were shooting trap. It was something all three of them could do, it was new to Kit and Muffy, and it was actually rather enjoyable and relaxing for them. And they were getting good. Kit could consistently hit 20 or more targets out of 25 now, and Muffy could hit 15 to 20 out of every 25. After they did something with Muffy, both Kit and Jessie would retire to the master bedroom to study their pilot materials while Muffy either did her own thing or sat with them reading or watching TV, and it was usually during this time that Kit would start getting the calls. Every day, all his cousins in New Orleans and Austin would call him to check in, just to make sure they were okay and also to receive any news that Vil wanted passed down, but wasn't so important that she would have them all called and told immediately. The calls usually lasted less than a minute, since some of his cousins weren't exactly on speaking terms with him or there really wasn't anything to say. After they studied, Jessie would drag Muffy down to the kitchen and cook dinner, also teaching Muffy how to cook. After dinner, they would watch TV, study, or watch a movie, sometimes with Muffy and sometimes not. Then they would go to bed while Muffy stayed up, since she was much more of a night owl. And in the morning, they did it all again.

It was far from routine for Vil, though. She kept him up to speed on what was going on with daily calls or visits, and every day she was fighting off some new attack from her elders. It was a new lawsuit, or a new rumor, or a new accusation or even an attempt to get Vil in trouble with some law agency. They attacked her any and every way they could. She was still basically playing defense, holding out until she was safely married and until she found out who sabotaged her chopper. Maxine and Jake visited Vil at work almost every day to either demand or cajole her into giving up her position, but she would not budge. And though she was playing defense, she did strike back in her own ways, with subtle moves that aggravated their elders.

What she did to Zach was a classic example of her very subtle maneuvers. She had any number of ways to attack her uncle directly, but Vil was a manipulator at heart, and so it was her preferred method to simply be the femme holding the strings of a puppet that did the attacking for her. It was her way, and she was very good at it. Vil had taken Stanley's discovery that Zach was using the Stonebrook accounts to hide money, compiled a pretty detailed history of the activity, and had it FedExed to the auditing departments of the Internal Revenue Service and the Massachusetts Department of Taxes and Revenues. The Vulpans had control of a great many state and federal agencies, but nobody… nobody… screwed with the IRS. The IRS took Vil's little tidbit, immediately decided that there was an issue of unpaid taxes involved with this mystery money, and they started digging. A week after she sent the tip, the IRS pulled an audit on Zach, which distracted him because his accountants had to quickly come up with some trick to hide the money he'd been hiding in Stonebrook's accounts.

Vil had a knack for doing tremendous damage with the smallest pieces of information.

She focused her attacks on Zach, but Jake and Maxine didn't entirely avoid her attention. Her attacks on them were as petty as they were amusing, and were done more or less just to annoy them. For Jake, she convinced the county that it was time to "pave" the road to Jake's manor, so they then proceeded to tear up the road leading to Still Waters, which forced Jake to call a car from his manor to come out and get him, then have his car go to Swan Cove to wait. Sure, it did little and it was petty, but for a Vulpan used to everything being their way, a closed road between them and home was an intolerable situation. Maxine found her electricity shut off when she got home one hot August day, and thanks to Vil's meddling, it took her nearly a full day to get it back on. The house ran on its backup generators the whole time. Again, it did nothing serious, but it did aggravate Maxine.

Kit's discomfort in Stonebrook didn't really fade all that much. When Jessie was with him, he was happy and content, but whenever she wasn't near, if he was out of the master bedroom, he felt like all his ancestors were scowling at him from the walls. For some reason, the master bedroom felt comfortable to him, probably because Vil had had it decorated to where it resembled a much larger version of their room back home.

Just like he was in Kansas, Kit was able to get things done for the magazine. He called Rick at least three times a day, called Pat about six times a day, continued to do the books, and even interviewed the applicants for the new writer/researcher job over the phone. But what was more important to Rick, Kit had been writing his articles about Stonebrook, and they were smashingly popular. His first article had been about the manor itself, its history and appearance, and later articles had described daily life in the manor, both for him and also for a "real" Vulpan, the lives of the servants, and the rich history of the furs who had lived there, both Vulpan and servant. His most popular article yet hadn't been about the Vulpans or the lifestyles of the filthy rich, it had been the article about Clancy, who was the quintessential Vulpan servant; educated, refined, intelligent, and most importantly, loyal. Clancy had lived in the manor since he was five, the longest living resident of the manor, and Clancy had described his life serving the Vulpan family in a way that made it incredibly compelling. Clancy had served four generations of Vulpans, describing how he used to play with Kitstrom Lucas Vulpan when they were kids, then served the adult Kitstrom Lucas Vulpan when Kitstrom Daniel Vulpan passed away. But he also described the hereditary post of chief butler, and how a MacArren had held that post since Stonebrook was built and became inhabited. Stonebrook would not be Stonebrook without a MacArren standing at the door to welcome family and guests and running the manor to keep it in perfect operation. He described the sense of pride he had in serving the Vulpan family, and also quite effectively described the nearly symbiotic relationship the rich had with their servants.

The life of a servant wasn't actually all that hard, his articles revealed. The average servant worked about six hours a day officially, but was "on call" to be used almost any time of the day or night. Clancy described the shift system and the pairing system, where servants worked set shifts to do the daily work, but certain servants were paired with certain house members to provide a sense of normalcy for the resident. The servant would learn the quirks and needs of that Vulpan, and would become effective servants for them. Stanley and Luann, for example, were Kit and Jessie's servants. Stanley as the chief butler had the honor of being the personal servant of the master of the house, and Luann had been chosen to be the maid that would serve Jessie because she was young and friendly. A Vulpan servant worked "on the clock" about six hours a day, cleaning, polishing, mowing, gardening, whatever it was they did. The rest of the day was spent in a state of leisurely readiness, where they enjoyed their time in their own way, but stayed on the manor's grounds in case they were called to work. They would stay that way until the manor's master declared that they were done for the night, and then they were considered "off" except for the two servants who were scheduled to work the nightshift, and their only job was to be awake and available in case they were needed. Two days a week they were considered "off" and could leave the grounds to shop or whatever it was they wished. A curious deal with Stonebrook was that the servants had no cars of their own. If they needed to go out, or they were off for the day, the manor owned four Chevy Cavaliers that were kept in the exterior garage for their use, and they could also use the limo if they got prior permission.

Many common furs didn't know that when they saw a limo riding down the street, it might contain the servants of the rich family instead of the family itself.

In many ways, the servants of a rich family enjoyed many of the perks and luxuries the family did itself. Since they lived inside the manor, they had access to the manor's amenities, and though it was different from family to family, in the Vulpan family the servants had always been allowed access to the entertainment features of the manor on certain days or at certain times during the day, known as "servant's hours." They were allowed to use the gym, the pools, the archery range his father had built near the wall, the home theater on the second floor, and had free access to the manor's phones and internet service provider. They were paid well, but they didn't have to use their own pay to buy furniture or food, since those were provided by the manor. The only things the servants had to buy were "luxury items" like home electronics, personal items, and personal clothing. Their apartments were rather nicely furnished, their groceries were delivered to the house, and there was plenty for them to do, even if their "normal" jobs weren't actually all that strenuous.

The hardest worker in the manor was undoubtedly the chief butler. He didn't work six hours a day, he worked more like ten hours a day, since he was responsible for all servant scheduling, the appearance and upkeep of the grounds, managing all matters of discipline among the servants, and he was also the one that managed the manor's finances. And all that was on top of being the personal servant of the master of the house. But, Kit didn't give him much to do. Jessie refused to allow Luann to clean their bedroom, and Kit didn't need a butler to help him get dressed or fetch and carry for him.

Their focus was changing, however. Vil's wedding was only two weeks away, and because many of their friends were coming up for the wedding, Jessie decided to have her baby shower the day before the wedding. Kit had decided that it was silly for his friends to be spending money to stay in hotels when he had plenty of room right here, so he called Rick and told him that everyone who came up from Austin would be staying at the manor. Stonebrook would be hosting as many as they could pack into the grounds, so as to help assuage the cost of coming up and eliminate food and lodging from the expenses of his friends. He could easily house everyone here in Stonebrook. There were 25 available bedrooms in the manor outside of the master bedroom, including the master bedroom in the west wing that had once housed Zach, but would house Rick and Martha. There were eight bedrooms and one master bedroom in each wing, three bedrooms on each floor, and there were six special guest "master bedrooms" on the second floor in the main part of the house, in addition to four currently unoccupied servant apartments that were one bedroom affairs on the first and third floors of the main house, where most of the servant apartments were located. Muffy was occupying one bedroom, Vil's old bedroom just down the hall, and the guards were occupying the six bedrooms on the second floor and two of the empty servant apartments. Between those 17 available bedrooms, one apartment, and the 7 cottages, three of which were multiple bedroom affairs, he was confident he could house every single friend or family member who was coming from Austin, as well as perhaps a dignitary or two. He knew for a fact that Vil had invited Governor Rick Perry, and it was only polite to offer him a cottage at Stonebrook for his stay.

That news had caused a change in plans. Rick had rescheduled their flight so they arrived on Wednesday instead of Thursday, so they had an extra day to explore the manor and the city and enjoy a little Vulpan hospitality, as well as giving the femmes the chance to attend Jessie's baby shower on the day before the wedding.

Not everyone would have their own bedroom, though. Sam had quite delicately told them that she and Kevin would be in the same bedroom, which cut their bedroom needs by one. Rick and Martha would share a bedroom, and Savid would be given the largest cottage on the grounds, which had room for him and his children as long as two of them shared a bedroom. Jeffrey and Sandy would share a bedroom if Sandy decided to come as well, but so far, Sandy still had said she wasn't coming.

And if worse came to worst, they could bring in rollaway beds or air mattresses and double up furs in the bedrooms.

Stonebrook was a huge manor, one of the largest in New England, easily as large as some hotels, and when he looked at it like that, its true size became apparent. He could house every single wedding attendee from Austin in Stonebrook, and probably have room left over.

But for the staff, it was both a very exciting and very busy time, and the manor had exploded into a frenzy of preparation. They hadn't hosted a large number of guests since Kit's father's funeral, and they wanted the manor to put its best foot forward and be what everyone thought it to be, the jewel of Boston and the most exquisite manor in New England. They were already hard at work getting the manor ready for visitors by giving the bedrooms an extra-special cleaning and inspection, bringing in enough food to feed approximately 30 guests in addition to the residents and staff, the cooks were preparing a menu for the visitors, and Stanley was even having the exterior walls, drive, and courtyard pressure washed to make the old tan granite, pavement, bricks and cobblestones all shine to present the best image. He was having flowers planted along the drive, and was pulling some staff from other manors and hiring a few temporaries to help fully staff the manor for the large number of guests.

That irked the other members of the family. It was an old standing arrangement that when the chief butler of Stonebrook needed more help, he could commandeer one or two servants from the other family manors and houses to fill the holes on a temporary basis, and he had made that call. But, as Kit expected, Zach, Jake, and Maxine refused to allow their servants to go to Stonebrook, though Tom and Sarah did. Stanley called one servant in from each manor and also appropriated all the servants of the cousins who were in New Orleans and Austin, as was his right as the chief of all staff for Stonebrook, and by proxy, the entire Vulpan family. The exterior garage was prepared so the extra servants had somewhere to park—they would continue to live in their current homes and commute—and they had already begun working in the manor, cleaning absolutely everything to make it suitable for royalty to stay at the manor, redecorating, fixing anything that even looked broken, and getting the grounds to immaculate condition.

Stanley had never been happier, Kit mused as he came down to see him rushing by, talking sternly into his phone, scolding the groundskeepers for not having the floral pattern planted near the front gate, a floral version of the Vulpan crest on a small slope that would be the first thing a visitor saw when the gates opened and they passed through the trees and reached the first curve, preparing to come up the hill to the manor house. Stanley loved hosting guests so they could gawk at the perfection in which he kept the manor, and he wanted everything to be just right for the first visitors, who would be Sam and Kevin. Sam was planning Jessie's shower, so she and Kevin decided to come a week early and stay the week, almost like a pre-honeymoon vacation, which Kit and Jessie considered a good thing. Sam was one of their best friends, and he'd love to have her and Kevin at the manor. Kit moved through several scurrying servants, one carrying new sheets just bought and delivered to one of the bedrooms, as Nick ambled over to him. "Hey Kit," he called, carrying a clipboard and his small yet bulldog-looking black submachine gun that Kit had discovered was a Heckler and Koch MP7A1, a new submachine gun that was as small as any other submachine gun, but fired a round that was more like a rifle round, which gave it much more stopping power. The gun was quickly becoming very popular among the military and police forces around the world, and Nick was trying to sell the other mercs on the superiority of his gun. Nick had never fired it in his presence, but he boasted that he could fire the weapon with just one paw, that its recoil was so low that he could aim and control it like a pistol even when firing it fully automatic. Given how strong Nick was, Kit did not consider this an idle boast. "I've got the security schedules set up for the expansion. I'm not hiring other mates for the increased security, we're going with Valiant Security. They're gonna put guards on the grounds and me and my mates will be commanding them like officers."

"Sounds good," Kit answered, looking at the clipboard and the estimated staffing numbers. They were increasing security for the wedding, since there would be so many furs in the manor.

Kit's phone rang, his Stonebrook phone, and he picked it up with a paw out to Nick. "Hello," he called.

"Hey bro," Vil called. "Got a moment?"

"That's a silly question, sis," he snorted.

She laughed. "Well, I have a favor to ask."

"Go ahead."

"Kendall's asked for you to be his best male," she said. He offered it to his father, but his father doesn't want to participate in a Catholic wedding. Ken tried to argue for a protestant wedding."

"He did, eh?"

"Yeah, but it's going to be a Catholic wedding, bro, I won that little argument with that Anglican heathen," she told him, which made him laugh. "We've decided to trim it down and not make it ridiculous, so we're going with one best male, a maid of honor, three grooms, and three bridesmaids. You'll be the best male and also the ringbearer. Ken's brothers Harry and Michael and his friend Charlie are going to be the grooms, and Suzy will be my maid of honor. I thought about making Jessie the maiden of honor, but that's a role traditionally held by a single femme, so I'm giving it to Suzy. Jessie, Muffy, and another friend of mine named Sonya will be the other maids. I woulda offered it to Sheila, but she won't be here to practice."

"Well, that'll depend on what Jessie has to say."

"Silly boy, she already agreed. I called her first to add more pressure on you," she told him, which made him laugh.

"Evil femme," he teased. "I guess I can do it."

"Good. We have four rehearsals, but they're on the days leading up to the wedding, and before you say it I'll make sure the Thursday rehearsal doesn't interfere with Jessie's shower. So, you'll be coming out of the manor four times, and I'll talk to Nick tonight to arrange security for your excursions. I'll send some tailors out there tomorrow to fit you for your tux and Jessie her dress."

"As long as we don't have to pay for it," he chuckled.

"Such a silly question. You're certainly being goofy today, bro," she teased.

"You still coming over tonight?"

"Yeah. Tell Jessie I want some of that killer tuna casserole she makes for dinner."

"I'll tell her," he promised. "So, does this mean the wedding's all planned out?"

"Yup," she answered. "I wanted to have our reception there at Stonebrook."

"Well… why don't you talk to Stanley about it, sis? I think I can tolerate the family being around me, and I doubt anyone we don't want here is going to attend your wedding anyway. This place doesn't mean much if you can't use it when you want to. It's yours, after all."

"Oh, Jake and Maxine already said they'd be there," she said. "But I seriously doubt they'll come to the reception. So, you're officially giving your blessing to hold the reception there?"

"I guess I am."

"It's a deal," she said with a bright voice. "I'll call Stanley right now and give him the bad news."

"Bad? Do you have any idea how happy he is at the idea of hosting the Austin guests? If you tell him you're having the reception here, he'll swoon in delight. He might scold you for giving him such short notice, but I'm sure he'll be ecstatic."

"The reception is going to be simple, bro, just some music, some food, a little dancing, cut the cake, and that's about it."

"Well, call Stanley."

"I will. Later bro."

"Later sis." Kit closed the phone and looked at Nick. "It just got a little more complicated, Nick," he said.

"I heard. You're going to be in the wedding procession, and the reception will be here."

Kit nodded. "Sorry for the short notice."

"No worries, Kit," he smiled. "I can arrange security for the reception no problem."

"I don't think you can carry that with you, though," he noted, pointing at the submachine gun.

Nick laughed. "I don't think so. I do think we'll need suits though. I'd better talk about that with Miss Vil," he said, scribbling on the clipboard. "Maybe Sylvie will torture us with a sexy dress that has a neckline all the way down to here," he sighed, putting his paw at his belt.

"I'm sure she could fix you, Nick," he noted, which made the black-furred wolf laugh. But his smile faded when he put a finger to his earpiece, then barked a quick command into the mic at his shoulder. "There's an unauthorized boat approaching the dock. Stay in the house!" he ordered, then he took hold of his MP7 and rushed towards the garage, where a golf cart would hurry him to the dock. "Sylvie! Stay with the PFs!" Kit heard him shout.

"Herr Kit, come to the kitchen!" Sylvia shouted. Kit hurried into the kitchen in time to see Sylvia load and cock her MP-5, which showed that she meant business. Jessie was in the kitchen with Henri, making lunch, but both of them had stopped what they were doing, watching fearfully as Sylvia pulled her earpiece jack from her radio and allowed them to listen to the chatter. Two other hired mercenaries, Nick, and five Valiant units were converging on the dock, and then they heard one of the Valiant guards call out.

"It's filled with photographers!" he barked.

"Shoo 'em off while we get there, Tommy!" Nick called, using the guard's name. "ETA twenty seconds! Krichek, Grizz, keep your PDWs outta sight!"

"PDW?" Kit asked Sylvia curiously.

"Personal Defense Weapon," she answered, holding up her MP-5, which she was now uncocking. "Term for any weapon we might use on the manor that's illegal to American law." She removed the magazine, removed the round from the chamber, replaced it in the magazine, then put the magazine back in her belt. "I don't think we want those photographers to take pictures of guards on the grounds carrying illegal weapons. It might cause you problems."

"Well, that was scary," Jessie laughed. "Alright, Henri, what's the next step?"

"What are you making, love?"

"Duck l'orange," she answered. "Henri's teaching me!"

"We're having duck for lunch?"

She shook her head. We're having bratwurst and sauerkraut," she answered. "I'm making this for Nick and the other guards, cause I know you don't like duck," she smiled. "Carrie and Frannie's making some sandwiches for the Valiant males. They're so polite!" she said appreciatively.

"Sounds like they're on the ball, too," Kit said as he heard more chatter, as Nick coordinated them driving the boat filled with photographers away from the manor's dock.

"They're not bad for amateurs," Sylvia said simply.

"You know, I've always wondered what it's like to shoot a gun like that."

"We can show you," she answered. "With Stanley's permission, Nick has been converting the archery range down by the back gate to a shooting area. It has an earthen embankment behind it, so it's perfect for it. He bought some targets but hasn't installed them yet."

"Yeah, that's why they put the archery range there," he remembered. "Because it's a flat area with the base of the hill behind it. Dad used to spend hours down there practicing, at least until Mom died," he said in a distant tone. "He gave it up after that. It hasn't been used since."

"And yet they keep it up?"

"It's part of the grounds," Kit shrugged. "They maintain it just as it was until told different."

"You mean you'll let us shoot your machine guns?" Jessie asked.

"If you'd like, Fraulein Jessie," she answered with a nod. "I'd be happy to teach you."

"Sounds interesting," Kit noted to Jessie, who nodded.

"I've never shot an automatic before. It should be really neat!" she agreed.

Sylvia keyed her mic and rattled off something in German. Nick's voice replied, also in German, and she nodded. "Nick says he'll get it set up by three."

"I didn't know Nick spoke German," Kit laughed.

"Most furs in our line of work speak English and Spanish, and quite a few also speak French, German, or both, because they are useful languages in our line of work just because so many of us speak it. Russian used to be a very useful language to know, but not so much anymore, and Chinese is starting to become an important language for us, too."

"French? Why French, and why German?"

"There are a lot of French and Germans in our line of work, Germans like me," she answered with a demure smile. "There are a lot of Russians too, but they tend to hire out to be combat mercenaries more than bodyguards, so Russian isn't as important in the line of work we do. If you do mercenary work, though, Russian is a very useful language to know. A lot of our clients speak Spanish, and if you speak English and German, you can function in most of Europe." The radio chattered again, Nick sounding the all clear, and Sylvia acknowledged and plugged her radio earpiece back in. "Chinese is becoming important if we work in Asia, many there speak Mandarin even if they're not Chinese. I learned French and English while growing up, and I was taught Russian when I was in the Berlin police, because there are a surprising number of furs who live there who speak Russian, a leftover from the days when Germany was divided."

"Wow, and all we speak here in America is English," Jessie mused.

"Many of us think that's actually a bad thing," Sylvia said. "If I only spoke German, I wouldn't be able to function unless I didn't want to earn any money or do anything with my life. Knowing only one language isolates you. If you live in Europe and you have contact with furs outside of your home village, knowing English and German at a bare minimum is a must. Knowing Russian, French, or Italian is very useful. For a German, learning Polish or Czech can also be useful, depending on where you live in Germany."

"Learn something new every day," Kit chuckled.

"Guess we're luckier than most, German is spoken in several countries in Europe. That's why it's such an important language."

"Anyway, pretty kitty, Vil just called about the wedding and reception," he said, looking at her.

"Did she ask you?"

He nodded. "I accepted, so she said there will be tailors here tomorrow to fit us. I also gave her permission to have the reception here."

"Oh, that's nice!" Jessie said with a smile. "I hope she has it catered!" she laughed. "That would drive the poor chefs crazy trying to cater a reception!"

"I would consider it a professional challenge," Henri told her with a roguish smile.

Later that afternoon, Nick did just as he promised. Around 2:30, he called Kit and Jessie down to the back gate, nearby which was located the old archery range, and Sylvia, Krichek, and Grizz went with them down to the range. It was an area about 50 yards long and 15 yards wide that was cleared of trees, the far side the base of the hill upon the top of which the manor house was built. The hill had been excavated slightly to form an embankment with about a 40 degree slope, a safety bank covered with ivy to ensure no arrows went flying off and hurt someone by accident. It was hidden from the rest of the manor by the forest, and the only way to reach the range was by a cart path that turned off the drive to the back gate. On the range, the old archery targets had been pushed far to one side and lined up neatly, and in their place were wood-framed targets that stood about five feet high at the bull's-eye. Nick had placed a table holding several boxes of ammunition and a cleaning kit behind a line he'd laid out using a piece of white nylon rope. There were also a few chairs further behind the line for spectators.

"As promised, your very own shooting range," Nick smiled. "Stanley told me to leave the archery targets here and make the firearm targets portable so the place could be converted back and forth."

"Pretty clever," Kit nodded in agreement.

"Alright, very first thing, the safety briefing. We'll explain the safety rules, teach you about the weapons, then we'll let you fire them."

Jessie decided to try Sylvia's MP-5, and Kit wanted to try Nick's MP7. The two of them gave them a thorough safety briefing, explaining the different dynamics involved in using an automatic weapon, then they were extensively trained in the operation of the weapons. They wouldn't let them try firing until they could immediately point out every feature of the weapons, and also explain in detail exactly how to load the weapon, chamber a round, where the safety was, what the selectors on the safety meant, how to aim the weapons using their sights, and then how to unchamber a round safely and unload the weapon.

"Alright, I think we're ready for a few test fires," he said. "We'll start on semi, so you get a feel for the recoil of the weapons. Once you've fired off a clip, we'll let you try them on auto."

"This should be really cool," Jessie said as Sylvia offered her a clip of live ammunition.

"Attention, live fire at the range is about to commence, live fire at the range is about to commence," Nick warned into his radio. "Keep away from the downrange side of the range, and that includes no patrols of the wall until I give the all clear." He gave Kit the clip from the weapon. "Alright, load 'em up," he ordered.

"Can we play too?" Grizz asked, smiling toothily. Grizz was just that, a grizzly bear, and he was even bigger and more burly than Barry. He carried a futuristic-looking FN P90, a weapon almost encased in a solid piece of aluminum.

"Semi only for now, guys," Nick said as he put on his ear protection and gave Kit a pair of safety glasses. "And only two on the line at a time, let's not crowd Kit and Jessie on their first time," he added as he pulled out his Glock and checked it, then put it back in its holster. "We can take turns while they reload."

"Sounds good," Krichek nodded, pulling out his own MP-5, which was smaller than Sylvia's and had no integral suppressor or retractable buttstock. In the huge Siberian tiger's paw, it almost looked like a pistol.

Kit and Jessie loaded the weapons, extended their retractable buttstocks, then shouldered them and prepared to fire. His first shot with Nick's gun showed him that it had even less recoil than the shotgun he used for trap shooting. The sights of his gun were a little odd, nothing like on the shotgun or the pistol that Nick had taught him to fire, but he understood how they worked and was able to hit the target. Jessie fired her first shot, which was considerably quieter because of the suppressor, and she seemed a little surprised. "It doesn't kick as much as my shotgun," she remarked.

"No, they're designed to minimize recoil," Krichek said in his Russian accent, "because they're designed to fire in automatic. Imagine that same recoil hitting you twice a second or more, and that's what it's like to shoot them in full auto."

"Oh, I get it," Jessie nodded as she shouldered the MP-5 again.

After Kit and Jessie emptied their clips, which took longer for Kit because it had a 20 round clip where Jessie had an 16 round clip, Sylvia and Nick stepped up to the line with their pistols. Nick had his Glock, but Sylvia carried a Beretta 92. "Five bucks a point?" Nick offered as he chambered a round.

"You're on," she answered. "Five seconds, ten shots."

"Deal."

Clearly understanding what they meant, Krichek stepped up and raised a paw as he looked at his watch on his other wrist. "Three. Two. One. Fire!" he barked, jerking his paw down quickly.

Kit understood after they started shooting. Each of them fired off rounds in rapid succession from their semi-automatic pistols, and he realized they had to fire ten shots in five seconds or less. They were firing at the other two targets, and as Kit watched, small holes appeared in both of them as the two professionals more or less emptied their clips into the targets in about four seconds. "Time!" Krichek barked, waving his paw, but that was moot. Both of them were finished before he made the call.

"No shooting guys, we have to go check our targets," Nick called.

"What's five bucks a point?" Jessie asked Grizz.

"They'll add up the points, and whoever wins gets five dollars for every point over the loser. So, if Sylvia scored a fifteen, and Nick a twenty, she owes him twenty-five dollars."

"Gambling on shooting. Now I've heard of everything!" Jessie laughed.

"That'll probably be the other way around," Krichek chuckled. "Sylvie is good with pistols. She even has Olympic medal."

From what Kit saw, it was probably about even, and the bullets weren't centered in the middle. Shooting so fast made the recoil spread their shots around the target, but Kit did see that each target had ten holes in it. At least they didn't miss. Sylvia laughed, and Nick reached into his pocket.

"I think you're right, Krichek," Jessie giggled.

Nick surrendered money to Sylvia, then the two of them replaced the two outside targets with fresh ones. When they came back up, they both attended Kit and Jessie. "Alright, auto this time," Nick said. "Sylvie, load five rounds in the clip. We'll give you five rounds so you can feel what it's like in auto. But we don't want you to shoot all of them at once. The trick to shooting auto is short controlled bursts. Just squeeze the trigger, and as soon as you feel the gun buck, let go. You should fire three rounds by the time you take the pressure off the trigger. We load you up with five rounds so if you forget to let go of the trigger, the gun isn't up here by the time it's empty," he said, holding his arm at a high angle. "Now remember, the gun will recoil with every bullet you shoot, so the muzzle of the weapon is going to climb. Your job is to keep it level, to keep it from bucking higher. It's going to surprise you the first time, it always does. That's another reason we only start off with five rounds."

"Okay," Kit nodded, adjusting his glasses as Nick loaded five surprisingly slender rounds into the clip for the MP7. Kit loaded the magazine and chambered the round, the shouldered the weapon. "Am I good to go?"

"Fire when ready," Nick nodded as Jessie chambered a round in the weapon she was using.

He tried to do as Nick said, press the trigger, then let it go when he felt the recoil. He felt the gun buck, and he tried to let go of the trigger, but then it bucked again almost immediately, which surprised him, and delayed him from letting go of the trigger. By the third recoil, the muzzle was indeed significantly higher, and Kit finally reacted by quickly taking his finger off the trigger and pulling the weapon back down. It fired again before his finger came off, but his increased pull on the muzzle kept the weapon from getting any higher. By the time it stopped firing, he'd fired four rounds, and had one left in the clip.

"Not bad," Nick nodded as Jessie fired. She gave a surprised look as the gun chattered in her paws, but she did a much better job of keeping it level. However, she too fired off four rounds instead of three. "Very good, dove," Nick said appreciatively.

"That is so different from a shotgun!" she exclaimed with a surprised smile.

"Yes, it is, isn't it?" Nick nodded. "Let's try eight rounds this time. And let's let the boys play while we load up."

Kit and Jessie moved off of the line, and Krichek and Grizz replaced them. "Five bucks a point?"

"Don't be pansy, ten," Krichek challenged. "How many rounds in that toy?"

"Thirteen, yours?"

"Fifteen."

"Thirteen in eight seconds," he offered.

"Bet," Krichek grinned. He chattered at Sylvia in Russian.

"Da," she answered, then looked at her watch as she stepped up beside them at the line. "Three. Two. One. Fire!" she called.

As Nick supervised them loading rounds into the magazines, the two big bodyguards all but emptied their pistols into the targets down range. They both finished before Sylvia called time, then they holstered the weapons and hurried down to their targets. "Change only the outside targets while you're down there!" Nick shouted. "And keep the old ones, we'll reuse them for Kit and Jessie!"

"Da, boss!" Krichek called.

"Alright, just wait here until they're back up here," Nick told Kit as he gave him the loaded magazine. Kit slotted the magazine in place, but did not chamber a round, to which Nick nodded in appreciation.

For nearly an hour, Kit and Jessie were given the privilege to learn how to fire automatic weapons. Kit learned how to minimize the muzzle climb with some tricks Nick taught him, and after an hour, he could fire the desired three round burst and keep the muzzle level. Nick had let him shoot as many as nine rounds at a time, letting him shoot as many as he could before he felt he was losing aim with the weapon, which was nine shots. Kit had to admit, he liked Nick's weapon. It really didn't have much recoil, it wasn't that heavy, and it was easy to aim, shoot, and to reload. Kit and Jessie weren't the only ones to fire at the targets on automatic. Krichek and Grizz also used their submachine guns on the range, Krichek showing how he fired his MP-5K with one paw like a pistol, the weapon rock solid in his paw as he emptied the entire clip at the target without the gun's muzzle climbing. Grizz showed off his P90, which looked almost like a laser gun from a Sci-fi flick, but it looked solid, and the bear could fire the weapon confidently. Kit and Jessie also got to test fire the assorted pistols they used, from Sylvia's Beretta 92 to Grizz's Walther P99 to Krichek's Kel-Tec P11, and right before they ended, they traded weapons and fired them, then Grizz allowed them to test fire his P90 on automatic after he loaded it for them and showed them where the safety was, letting them fire the weapon without as much training because they were literally just firing it with him right there to observe to make sure they did it safely. They picked up their shell casings as they went, and they kept them separate, since certain brass belonged to certain weapons, and all four of them knew how to make their own bullets, re-using the shell casings for new rounds. That made the brass casings ejected from the weapons valuable.

When they were done, Nick keyed up his radio. "Firing at the range is now complete, repeat, firing at the range is now complete. Wall patrols may recommence."

"That was fun!" Jessie said brightly.

"Da, the shooting is always fun, but now comes the not fun part. Cleaning," he grinned as he moved towards the table.

"You shot 'em, you clean 'em," Nick smiled slyly at Kit.

"No sweat, Nick, show me how to take this apart."

All of them bent to the task of cleaning the weapons, and Grizz laughed. "This is why private ranges rock. We'd never be allowed to use our machine guns at a public range."

"We could, but would get very unfriendly visit from ATF if we did," Krichek chuckled as he broke down his MP-5K with professional speed.

Another cart rolled into the cleared area, holding Vil and Kendall. "So here's where you're hiding!" Vil called.

"Hey Vil!" Jessie said with a bright smile. "They converted this to a shooting range and let us try out some of their guns!"

"I heard some of it when I was driving up," she grinned. "Have fun?"

"It was a lot of fun!" she said with a nod.

"Well, we have planning to do guys, get a move on," she commanded.

"We'll be done in a little bit," Kit told her. "Just go up to the house and we'll be up when we finish. We can't leave until we clean up the mess we made."

"Sure, if you don't want me here," Vil grinned.

"You can sit in that cart and wait or you can go up to the air conditioned house and wait in a comfortable chair and a cup of tea," Kit noted.

She laughed. "Good point. I'll be in the ballroom with Stanley when you're finished playing with your toys."

With their help, Kit and Jessie learned how to take apart and clean the weapons, then they reassembled them under the watchful eyes and step by step instructions of their owners. Once they were done, Nick boxed up all the ammunition they didn't fire and drove Kit and Jessie back up to the house while Sylvia, Krichek, and Grizz rode in the cart behind them. "So, did you like shooting a real gun?" he asked.

"Yes, and thanks for the lesson, Nick, it was fun," Kit answered.

"So, tell me. You shot all four autos… which did you like the best?" he asked with a grin.

"I'd be inclined to say yours, since I used it the most, but I think that's what you want to hear," he answered, which made Nick explode into laughter.

Stanley was almost trembling with excitement when they went to the main ballroom, a cavernous room just off the main dining room with a checkered floor and fluted columns near the walls along both sides, behind which chairs were placed in rows along the walls. The far corner of the ballroom had a raised platform large enough for a nine piece musical ensemble, and there were professional speakers along the columns high up, near the ceiling. That ceiling was nearly twenty feet high; there were no rooms on the second floor over the ballroom, it took up that area. The ceiling above was painted with radial designs around the three chandeliers that hung from the ceiling, and that ceiling was about four feet lower than the floor of the third floor. Up on the second floor, the six guest bedrooms flanked the void space created by the ballroom's walls and ceiling. Stanley and Dee were talking excitedly with Vil and Kendall, as Vil, in a wheelchair with Bartholomew behind her diligently, made sweeping motions with her paws as she explained something to the butler. "So, you heard the happy news, Stanley?" Jessie asked.

"She just told me, Mistress Jessie," he said with a beatific smile. "I was so hoping she would have her reception here. Where else would be proper? But I'm not entirely appreciative of the short notice, Miss Vilenne," he said, slightly accusingly.

"We weren't entirely sure if we should have it here, because of the security precautions, but Stav and Marcus assured me that we can keep Kit and Jessie safe and still have my reception here. Besides, you can handle it, you're a tough fox."

"I'll prove to you just how good we are, Miss Vilenne," he smiled. "We will give you a reception worthy of a Vulpan!"

Kit and Jessie listened as Vil explained what she wanted, which was something almost akin to a formal ball. She wanted the ballroom decorated in white and red silk buntings and white and red roses, a live band, and a dinner that would be served on tables in both the formal dining room and the ballroom that would be spaced evenly, with Vil and Kendall sitting at the head table near the dais. The first few rows of tables could be moved after dinner to make room for dancing, and they could use the space between the columns and the walls for chairs, champagne tables, appetizers, and tables for dishes and glasses.

"What kind of meal do you want, Miss Vilenne?"

"Offer three main courses, lamb chops, lobster, and filet mignon," she answered. "As far as the side dishes, appetizers, and desserts go, let the cooks decide on the menu."

Both Stanley and Dee were writing furiously on clipboards. "How many guests are you expecting?"

"Around a hundred will be invited to the reception," she answered. "That's why we're going to have the spillover in the formal dining room. I don't think we can pack that many in here without making it too crowded."

"Actually, I can fit a hundred in here, Miss Vilenne, I'll use round tables that seat fourteen each. I'll line them up in two rows of four, that will give us some extra seating just in case, and that should just about perfectly fill the room with just enough space between the tables so they don't seem jammed together. We can remove the four near tables for dancing after dinner and direct the guests to chairs along the walls if they wish to sit, yet leave some table space for those who wish to sit at a table. I'll still prepare the formal dining room for possible spillover, however, just in case."

Vil and Stanley continued discussing the reception as Nick arrived, grinning at Kit and Jessie. "Miss Vil," he said, shaking her paw. "Now, we need to talk about security for the reception."

"You're next on the list, Nick," she told him, patting him on the wrist. "Just listen for now so you know what's going to happen."

Kit and Jessie listened in relative silence as Vil described how she wanted her reception to go. "It's not going to be traditional," she told them. "I want it to be fairly simple. We come in after the ceremony, we greet the guests a the head table because I have this little problem," she noted, pointing at her casted leg. "We eat, then after we eat, the band comes in and we dance a while, then we cut the cake. After we cut the cake, we kick everyone out. I want it to run about three hours total."

"That's fairly simple," Stanley chuckled. "So, to go over the decorations, you want red and white silk buntings, red and white trim and tablecloths, roses, did you want candles on the tables?"

"I'll leave the exact details of the décor up to you, Stanley, that way I can be a little surprised."

He smiled brightly. "Certainly, Miss Vil," he said, making a note. "And you just gave us the schedule. I'll have to convert the helipad to a parking lot," he grunted, making another note.

"We're leaving by chopper, Stanley."

"Can the chopper land on the lawn, Miss Vil? It will be much easier to repair to chopper strut divots in the lawn than dozens of tire marks. If you're expecting a hundred guests, that will be fifty to seventy cars limousines."

"We can park the limos out on the county road and arrange the valet system so we can call them back in," Vil told them. "Just worry about where to park the cars that come. You can always park them out on the back roads. Keep the helipad clear."

"I'll talk to the county and get special permission to park cars on the roadway," he said with a nod, making a note.

"Alright, Nick, let's talk," Vil told him.

"I'd like a force of at least fifty hired from Valiant, Miss Vil."

"That's reasonable," she nodded. "You want them as soon as possible?"

He nodded. "I have to train them. We'll need radios for them."

"Stanley, take care of it," she said.

"I'll have them here by tomorrow morning."

"What I intend to do is set up three lines of security," Nick said, borrowing Stanley's clipboard, getting a clean sheet, and making very rough drawing of the house. "We'll have static security checkpoints at the gates, at the docks, in the house stopping visitors from entering unauthorized areas, and also at strategic points on the grounds so nobody can slip off into the woods without being seen," he began, making a series of X marks on the paper at certain locations. "We'll use two fur teams except here in the ballroom, where I'll have ten furs stationed in discreet locations. The second line of security will be roving patrols that will rotate through the entire manor grounds as well as through the manor itself. Inside the manor, I want to use furs I hire from my mates, because there's no telling how tempting some of the things laying around inside the house might be to a fur making eight dollars an hour. I can trust my mates not to touch anything. They're professionals. It also places more than just the eight of us in the manor in case something drastic happens."

"Reasonable," Vil nodded.

"The third line of security will be surveillance. We need to buy some portable cameras and install them and set up a command post where we can keep an eye on things. We can make them pretty obvious, just cameras on stands, and cameras in the manor on critical points, like the doors to the wings. It'll also keep the point guards honest," he chuckled.

"Do it. But coordinate with Stanley when you start trying to drill holes in his walls."

"I'm gonna use a microwave transmission system so there's no cords. This kinda job is right up Barnett's alley, he specializes in setting up camera surveillance."

"One of your guards?"

He nodded. "The mate that looks like a big jackal, but that's because his dad was a wolf," he said. "Good mate, knows his business." He glanced to the side. "I'm going to have Sylvie escort Jessie everywhere during the reception. She should not be left alone, even for a second."

"Amen," Kit said with a strong nod. "I guess we'll find out if Sylvia can look good in a party dress while carrying three pistols and a bowie knife."

Nick laughed. "She's a stunner, alright," he grinned.

"I don't need that," Jessie said, a bit modestly.

"You're the most important thing in the world, love, you do need it. I won't take even one chance with your safety," Kit told her. "What's the problem, anyway? You like Sylvia."

"Well, sure, she's really nice, but I think it's kinda silly you're treating me like the Queen of England."

"You're more important than that," Kit smiled.

"Alright, I'll call Valiant and have them dig up fifty guards and have them here as soon as they can get them here," Vil said. "And I'll let you two chew on the details, I want to spend some time with my brother and sister-in-law," she said, smiling at them. "Barty, mush!" she called cheekily, pointing towards the side door to the TV room.

Bartholomew laughed and took hold of her wheelchair. "I'll let you get away with that, Miss Vil, if only because you used to let me win when we played Trouble."

Vil laughed. "Just warn me before you dump me out of the chair, okay?"

"Will do."

Kit, Vil, Jessie, and Kendall sat in the TV room and just talked a while, as Bartholomew poured them each cups of tea and retreated quietly to the bar. Kit and Vil explained a Catholic wedding to Kendall in detail, and also to Jessie, since she would be part of the bridal party. "Kit's going to be the best male and the ring bearer," Vil explained. "He'll be right beside you when the ceremony starts, Ken. Suzy will be my maid of honor, she'll be the last one in the procession. Jessie, you'll be a bridesmaid, you'll be escorted down the aisle by one of Ken's grooms. Since Dad is dead, tradition demands that I come down the aisle alone. However, to make a statement to the family, I'm going to ask Ken's dad to give me away."

"He'd do it in a heartbeat, Vil," Ken assured her.

"Good. You two will have the whole week before the wedding to learn how a traditional Catholic wedding works. We'll do the whole thing, communion and all."

"God, I haven't taken communion since I was sixteen," Kit grunted.

"Well, what about us? I'm not about to take communion from a Catholic priest," Ken grinned.

"You just nod at the priest and step aside," Vil told him. "After the ceremony, we'll come back here for the reception, then it's all done. We live happily ever after."

"Where are you going for your honeymoon?" Jessie asked.

"Well, Saturday I have a promise to keep," she said. "So we'll be staying at Hart's Crossing overnight. Saturday morning we go to Columbus to watch Ben play. I promised him I'd be there, and I don't break my word."

"He'll understand, Vil. It's your honeymoon!" Jessie protested.

"He may understand, but I'll know I broke my promise," she said adamantly. "After his game, we're going to my vacation condo in the keys for a week, then Ken's taking me to Monaco for a week on the Riviera. If I'm lucky, I'll come home pregnant, and we settle in at Hart's Crossing."

"I'm going to have to find a job," Ken laughed. "The old male fired me!"

"Why did he do that?" Jessie asked.

"He doesn't want me to travel, he wants me to stay close to home, and my job required me to run all over the globe. I can't give him a grandson if I'm in Bahrain or Thailand and Vil's here."

"Oh," Jessie said, then she giggled girlishly. "It sounds like he's serious."

"If I don't present him with a grandson in a year, he'll probably disown me," he said, giving Vil a smile.

"A grandson, eh?" Vil asked. "And if we have a girl?"

"We'd better not. My life is at stake here," he said with insincere fear, which made Kit laugh.

"I'm hoping that I'll be walking down the aisle by the time we have the ceremony. I don't relish the idea of trying to come down the aisle on crutches or a cane," Vil said with a sober look.

"When do they say you'll get out of the cast?"

"A week after the ceremony," she sighed. "That's part of why we're going to the keys for the first week. Tomorrow they're supposed to take off the bandage," she said, patting her arm. "But, my fur is starting to grow back where I was burned," she said with a relieved sigh. "And it's not white! They said there's always a risk that fur growing over a former burn may come in white, but my fur's perfectly normal."

"So, it'll be long sleeve shirts for a while?" Jessie asked.

She nodded. "They wanted the bandage to stay in place until my fur started growing back in, to prevent some condition where the sun burns the skin from exposure."

"Never heard of that."

"It's a condition that affects some boars and pigs," Ken said. "They call it sunburn."

"Weird," Jessie mused.

"Like I'd go around with my arm uncovered," Vil laughed.

"How's your leg?" Kit asked.

"On the mend, faster than expected," she answered. "The doctors are hopeful that I'll be walking by the wedding. They're going to recast my leg tomorrow with a rubber pad on the bottom, a cast that will let me walk on it. I'm supposed to stay on my crutches for a few days, then we'll see how well I do on a cane. They said that my break is almost exactly like a classic ski boot break, and ski boot breaks can walk on their casts. So, after I mend enough, I should be ambulatory. At worst, I'll be using a cane. If I'm lucky, I'll be walking."

"Well, here's hoping," Kit said, patting her on the shoulder. "You'll look silly coming down the aisle on crutches."

"I'll feel silly," she agreed.

"Well, I promise not to laugh until after I see our wedding video, Vil," Kendall said.

"You'd better not," she warned, but she was smiling.

"I'll make sure to laugh, just for you," he winked, then he stood up. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to visit the exiled male's room," he said, scurrying out.

Jessie giggled. "He's so silly," she said, "just like my handsome fox."

"I am not silly," Kit corrected airily. "So, when's the important part?"

"What important part?"

"The lawyer," he said.

She chuckled. "We already took care of that," she answered. "Typical rich fox prenup. Our assets remain separate, the only communal property will be that gained after marriage, my salary, dividends, and stock are not considered communal property ever, one recognized joint account, ability to gift money and property back and forth, so on and so on, but there's also a penalty clause in there."

"What's that?" Jessie asked.

"I'm Catholic, Jessie, and we don't divorce," she answered. "Ken isn't. There's a penalty clause in our prenup that states that if he tries to divorce me, he loses all right to try to sue for half the amassed value we accrued while married. My side of it flatly states that there will be no divorce," she said. "That I am forbidden from seeking a divorce. It doesn't stop me from seeking an annulment, but I can't file for divorce."

"Keep that in mind, love," Kit said lightly. "Catholics never divorce. You will never get rid of me."

"Like I'd want to," she winked at him. "What happens if you two sour?"

"I'll banish him from my house," she said simply. "He'll probably move back to England. But I still won't divorce him, even if I hate him. If he wants to be free of me, he'll have to divorce me, and if he does he leaves with nothing more than what he was married with, which really isn't that big of a deal, since he's actually much richer than I am. Oh, and I have automatic custody of the kids if we divorce," she added. "That's also part of our prenup."

Kit's phone rang, and he saw that it was a call from Austin. "A cousin," he said, opening the phone. "Hello?"

"Checking in for all the girls, cousin," Angela called. "We're about to go to the movies."

"The movies? That's rather tame," Kit noted.

She giggled. "Sheila took us to a very interesting place last night."

"Oh, let me guess," he said blandly. "The Top Hat."

Jessie started giggling. "Yup yup," Angela said in a trilling voice. "Who knew such a fun place existed in this cattle town?"

Over the two weeks they'd been down there, his femme cousins had settled in and settled down somewhat. When they called, they always seemed cheerful and upbeat, which was a good sign, and Sheila had certainly shown them all around town so they always had something interesting to do. They'd certainly gone to their share of nightclubs, but they were also doing other things, amusing themselves when Sheila was busy with her flight school. What was more interesting, however, was how every single one of his femme cousins had accepted Allison into the fold. Once they got their preconception of her out of their minds that she was a gold-digging whore, they found out that Allison was much, much more than that, that she was intelligent, educated, observant, and very interesting. Bess had noted absently that she understood exactly what Terry saw in her after she'd gotten to know Allison. Allison had been absorbed into the Vulpan Party Pack, as did Sam, Danielle, and Lisa, whom had been introduced to the cousins by Sheila, and had quickly been subverted to the dark side. They were a strong core of relatives and friends who liked to go out together and have fun together, and much to Kit's relief, they were doing more than partying, drinking, and chasing males. Sheila and Allison had taken the cousins flying in rental planes, they'd gone and done things like golf, horseback riding, and water skiing, Sheila had convinced Rick to give his cousins a tour of the magazine office, where Barry interviewed them for an article in the magazine and quite a few pictures of them appeared in the magazine and on the website. They did a fair share of shopping, and they did go clubbing almost every night, but so far Kit hadn't heard of Vil having to bail them out of jail, so they'd been behaving themselves up to a point. But the important thing was, Bess, Lynn, Mary, and the younger girls weren't only partying the way they did in Boston. They were actually doing things. But in a week, Angela and Joy would be leaving Austin and returning to Boston so they could go back to school.

"Why does that not surprise me."

"We bought Joy a guy," she added lightly. "We had to make sure she goes home with a smile on her face, you know."

"I did not need to hear that," he told her.

"What fun is doing it if nobody knows about it?" she asked with a laugh. "Talk to you later, cousin."

"Later Angie." He closed the phone, and the look on his face made Jessie explode into laughter. "They bought Joy time with one of the males at the club," he grunted.

Vil laughed. "Well, I hope she enjoyed it," she said boldly.

"I hope her Jake doesn't hear about it."

"He has three Party Pack daughters, he's probably numb by now," Vil laughed.

Ken returned, kissed Vil on the cheek, and sat down beside her. "So, what slanderous rumors did you make up about me while I was gone?"

"Not you, our cousins called in from Texas," Vil told him. "Sheila took them to the Top Hat last night."

"What's that?"

"A private and somewhat illegal sex club. Seems our cousins bought a male prostitute for Joy, who's eighteen."

"Well, that's adult age here in the states," he said with a slight smile. "Besides, if Joy is a proper rich girl, she hasn't been a virgin since she was thirteen."

"Fourteen," Vil corrected lightly, which made Kendall gasp in mock astonishment.

"Dear lord, you mean to tell me I wasn't your first?" he cried.

"Not even close," she said with an arch little smile, taking a sip of tea. "You're somewhere in the teens. High teens."

"My world is crumbling!" he declared, putting his paw over his eyes. "My bride to be can't wear white at the wedding!" He fell back onto the couch, which made Jessie giggle, then put both paws to his chest. "Shoot me now, put me out of my misery! I can't go on!"

"You'd better go on," Vil said. "Or I'll nail you to a board and stand you up at the altar if I have to. Besides, tonight we have to celebrate me getting a smaller cast. One that allows me a little more movement," she said pointedly, which made him sit back up so far that Jessie almost fell on her side on the couch laughing.

Ken stood up. "Was so good to visit, Kit, Jessie," he said quickly, shaking Kit's paw as Kit tried hard not to laugh. "But I feel this pressing need to return home. Right now."

"Mmm-hmm," Vil grunted with a simple nod. "We're staying for dinner, Ken."

"Might I borrow your shower, Kit?" he asked, which was too much for Jessie. Her head crashed into Kit's lap as she laughed uncontrollably.

They had dinner with Muffy and Suzy, stuffed peppers and au gratin potatoes. "Where have you been all day, Muffy?" Jessie asked as she set down the platter.

"I got a little drunk last night," she admitted. "I had a hangover this morning, so I slept it off."

"You went out?"

She nodded. "I finally decided to risk it. I went to a club I like, danced a little, and drank a little too much. I got up around one, then I went out to do some shopping. I had to look for a wedding present and a baby shower present, after all," she smiled.

"Well, stop that. I won't have my bridesmaid sloshing into the church lit up like a Christmas tree."

"Bridesmaid? Me?" she asked suddenly.

"If you want the job," she said dryly in reply.

"Yes! Sure! Thanks, Vil!" she gushed.

"You need rewards for at least trying to stick it out with Kit and Jessie."

Muffy laughed. "Sorry, but I was feeling a little cabin fever last night, and today was kinda a shopping requirement."

"Be here tomorrow at eleven, the tailors are coming to fit you guys for your wedding clothes."

"Okay Vil."

"You missed the fun, Muffy, Nick and the guards let us shoot their machine guns," Jessie told her as she sat down at the kitchen table. "It was really interesting!"

"I bet it was," Muffy nodded. "Was it hard?"

"It took a little getting used to at first, but there at the end I could keep the gun aimed at the target," she answered.

"Where's Corey, Sue?" Kit asked.

"Maine," she answered. "They're starting that documentary. He'll be back for the wedding." She laughed. "Vil tried to hire him to do the wedding!"

"Well, he's a filmmaker," she said defensively.

"Not that kind of film," Suzy winked. "Besides, he has a contract, he has to honor it."

"Who did you hire to do the photos and video for the wedding?" Muffy asked.

"Patriot Productions," she answered. "Will has been dealing with most of that stuff for me, and he's doing a great job. I tell him what I want, and he gets it done."

"That's what a chief butler does, gets it done," Kendall nodded. "I rather like Will. Nice chap, but very professional. When you ask him to do something, it gets done quick and right."

"That's why I took him from Stonebrook," Vil nodded. "He may be young, but he's good."

"I need to get a wedding present too," Kit mused.

Vil laughed. "My wedding present is right here," she said, pointing at him and Jessie. "But I need to get Jessie a shower gift," she noted to herself.

"Don't go crazy," Kit warned.

"I was only going to buy her Rhode Island," she said flippantly. "It's the smallest state, after all."

Jessie broke out into laughter. "I don't need a state, Vil. Wanna make me happy? Buy me a baby seat that'll fit in our plane."

"Done," Vil nodded. "I'll get you an airplane baby seat on top of Rhode Island."

Jessie giggled. "Eat your dinner," she commanded.

"Yes, ma'am," Vil smiled, taking a bite of her stuffed pepper.

They talked about the upcoming wedding with Suzy during and after dinner, as Vil described the upcoming ceremony in greater detail, which was easy for them to follow. Suzy was Catholic too, and she knew the Catholic wedding ceremony. Vil explained the ceremony in detail for Kendall and Jessie, who learned all about the marriage sacrament and also how Vil was going to slightly deviate from the accepted tradition. Having Winston Brighton give her away was one way she was going to alter the ceremony. Dee and Stanley served wine around the room except for Jessie and Kit, who took grape juice. "We'll have daily practices at one o'clock starting on Monday," Vil said. "Sue, come to Stonebrook tomorrow around ten thirty, the tailors are going to be here fitting for the clothes. May as well put you here too. I'll have Sonya show up too."

Sonya was the rarity among Vil's circle of friends. She was Sonya Cooper, a rich kid to be sure, but she wasn't a fox, she wasn't "old money," and she wasn't from Boston. Sonya was a coyote from Omaha, Nebraska, "new money," whose family had made it in the laser, munitions, and GPS businesses. Cooper Arms and Technologies was a relatively new company as a Vulpan would reckon things that manufactured military electronics and technologies. It had literally started as a garage company run by her father, who was an engineering genius, who invented the first laser system that was used in laser guided bombs. He borrowed money up to his ears and started a small manufacturing company, made prototypes, and with those prototypes he won a contract to build the systems, which were adopted into most laser-guided bombs used even today. They'd won several defense contracts for other laser-based systems like sights for light arms, rangefinders, "paint" lasers that ground-based troops used to guide munitions fired from aircraft, and offensive "blinding" lasers that were designed to jam enemy systems. After they became successful building laser guided bombs and laser systems, they then branched out to help develop the current Global Positioning System. Cooper was one of the main companies that developed the technology and software used in GPS satellites, which they then adapted into their munitions to build "GPS bombs" that used GPS to strike static targets. Recently, the company was dabbling in light arms by buying out Kel-Tec, who made pistols and was currently developing an assault weapon to try to sell to the military, and had also bought out a company known as Dragon Defense, which made military grade body armor, bullet proof vests, armored glass, metal and polymer armors, and other protective systems. What had started as a garage business was now a solid and impressive member of the defense industrial complex, with 12 factories in five states in the midwest and Washington state, two brand names bought out and under the company umbrella, and worth nearly $2 billion. The Coopers themselves weren't billionaires, but they were pretty damn close, with Sonya's father worth an estimated $850 million in non-company assets and cash. Cooper Technologies earned a tiny royalty for every GPS system made, which in the last few years had turned into massive royalties because of the explosion in popularity of GPS systems, showing that Sonya's father truly was a visionary businessman. Every Garmin Nouveau and Tom-Tom, every Onstar system installed in GMC cars, every LoJack, every child or pet locator system, every hiker's handheld GPS map and emergency beacon, every single GPS system produced by civilian companies had to pay a small royalty to Cooper Technologies for the privilege of using the GPS satellite system for every unit they produced. They'd met by chance at one of the country clubs in Boston, one of the four clubs where Vil played golf, and had been friends ever since. Kit actually had never met Sonya. She'd been Vil's friend for only about a year. She was 24 years old and in her final semester at Harvard, getting her MBA. After she graduated, she would join her family company as an executive.

What started purely as a business move had turned into a friendship, Vil had confided to him during one of their talks. Vil had known who Sonya was when they chanced to meet at the club, which was just luck, and had gone out of her way to talk to her and get to know her, so as to get a connection with her father and her company. But she sincerely liked Sonya, and so a genuine friendship had blossomed from what Vil had meant to be a calculated business move. But that didn't stop Vil from using her friendship with Sonya to the company's advantage, as much as it didn't stop Sonya from doing the same. Because of that chance meeting, Vulpan Shipyards had signed a contract with Cooper Technologies a few months ago to supply GPS systems for the non-military ships the shipyards produced.

"I'd like to finally meet Sonya."

"Well, she's been in Nebraska," Vil told him. "She went back home for summer vacation. She's coming back to Boston, and should be in the air now and on the way. She's coming early because she agreed to be my bridesmaid, so she has to be here for the rehearsals."

"Sonya's nice," Suzy said with a nod. "Kinda plain, but nice."

"Here, I have a picture of her," Vil said, pointing at her purse. "Barty." Bartholomew retrieved her purse for her, and she dug a picture out of it, showing her and a shockingly tall coyote out on a golf course, a coyote that was actually rather cute… in a coyote kind of way. She had strong features rather than feminine ones, short brown hair done in a pixie style through which her ears poked out, but she wasn't ugly. She was no knockout like Allison, but she was definitely worth a second look. Handsome. That was a good word for Sonya, handsome.

"Woah," Muffy breathed. "She's like a flagpole!"

"Wow, is she really that tall?" Jessie gasped.

"Six foot four, and as strong as a bull," Vil sighed, which made Suzy laugh. "She played center on Harvard's basketball team when she was an undergrad. She's not a bad ball player."

"Wow, she's taller than me," Kit laughed.

"By five inches," Vil teased.

"And I always thought I was tall," Jessie giggled. "She makes me look like a little girl!"

"God, we'll have to keep her away from Nick," Kit said with a snort, then he laughed helplessly.

"Nick? He has to get in line. Marcus has a huge crush on Sonya," Vil said with a grin. "I can hear his heart speed up every time she's around him."

"Where is he anyway?"

"They're out talking with Nick and the other mercs," Vil said. "They all know each other."

"Oh."

"I'll have Sonya show up here around ten thirty too."

"I can pick her up and bring her," Suzy offered.

"Sure, that works," Vil nodded. "That way the tailors can get four of you out the way. Ken, you need to get your brothers and your friend over here, as well as your father."

"It's a little late to call right now. I can call around one in the morning, and they'll be here by eleven."

"Can your friend Charlie drop everything and come over?"

"He's one of the idle rich aristocrats, has his own title and everything," Kendall smiled. "He'll see it as an adventure, he'll be here." Kendall laughed. "Baron Charles William Duke, Knight of the Realm. Goes around and calls himself Baron Duke, which makes everyone give him a double take."

"He was knighted?" Kit asked curiously.

Kendall nodded. "Like most aristocrats, he was in the military. He served six years in the Royal Marines as an officer, earned a knighthood due to valorous action when the Royal Marines occupied Basra. His unit was ambushed and he led them while they held off their attackers for three hours until reinforcements arrived. He even has a scar he loves to show off," Kendall laughed. "But don't ask to see it."

"Why?" Suzy asked.

"It's on his bum," he answered with a grin. "He got shot in the bum while in Iraq."

They all laughed, but Vil said "well, at least he proved he's a brave male to go into combat."

"Oh, Charlie's fearless, no doubt about that," Kendall agreed. "I just giggle at the idea of him in military gear shooting at someone. He doesn't look like a Marine."

"Short?"

"Well, he's a British hare for one, and it's very hard to take a male seriously with those big bunny ears and that bunny tail. How could the Iraqis concentrate on the fight with Lieutenant Cute and Fuzzy Bunny barking orders at his males on the other side?" he said seriously, which made Kit explode into laughter.

"He sounds cute!" Muffy gushed.

"He's a cute devil, that's for sure, but watch out. He's one of the most notorious feminizers in England," Kendall winked at her. "And he loves the vixens. Says it's a case of the prey hunting the predator," he grinned.

"Sounds like we need to take him down a peg, Vil," Suzy smiled at her.

"Sounds so," Vil nodded with a smile. "So, sounds like all the bridal party will be here tomorrow by eleven. Good, that'll make it easy for the tailors."

After about another hour, Suzy, Vil, and Kendall went home, Kit and Jessie retired to the bedroom to watch a movie, and Muffy decided to stay in as well, enjoying a glass of wine down in the TV room. They arranged it with Nick that the tailors and all the wedding party would be arriving at the manor the next day, around eleven, so they were all set up. "We'll meet Ken's dad tomorrow," Kit noted. "Winston Brighton."

"That should be nice," Jessie said with a yawn. "Let's go take a bath, love, and go to bed. We can finish this movie tomorrow."

"Getting you naked is always a good thing," he said with a smile as he stood, and offered his paw to her.

"There's getting to be a lot of me to see," she laughed, patting her belly. "If I get any bigger, I'm afraid I'll pop like a balloon!"

"Five weeks, five days," he said with a smile. "You know, when Doctor Mac comes up next week, we need to ask her how long we can have sex until it's not safe," he mused.

Jessie's cheeks ruffled slightly, and she laughed. "Like you'll want me when I'm like this," she said, holding her paw way out in front of her.

"You're not far from that already," he noted dryly. "I told you, silly girl, you're not fat, you're pregnant," he told her lightly. "You're still a sexy beast."


The first ones to arrive the next day were Suzy and Vil's friend Sonya.

She really was that tall. She was taller than Kit, sleek and athletic, wearing a Harvard Basketball tee shirt and a pair of knickers that could be worn as full-length pants by Suzy or Vil. She was taller than Kit by nearly a half a foot, and taller than Jessie by about eight inches. At 5'9", Jessie was considered tall for a girl, yet she looked like a little girl standing beside the towering coyote. "Nice to meet ya," Kit said, shaking her long-fingered paw as they met out in the courtyard.

"A pleasure," she said in an alto voice, which was quite melodic. "I've heard quite a bit about both of you from Vil."

"I hope nothing bad," Jessie giggled as she shook Sonya's paw.

"The bad parts are the best parts," she said with a warm smile, which made Jessie and Suzy laugh.

"Vil said you're from Nebraska?" Kit asked as he ushered them into the house.

"Yah," she answered. "Just outside Omaha."

"What's it like there?" Jessie asked.

"Flat," she answered. "But I love it. I wouldn't live anywhere else. Besides, we're not all that welcome here in blue-blood territory," she laughed.

"New money," Kit chuckled. "The old money doesn't respect new money. You don't know the rules."

"They can keep their damn rules," she grunted. "I was born and raised in a three bedroom tract house in Nebraska, not a place like this."

"Hey watch it, I was born in this house," Kit challenged lightly.

"Well, you don't act like you fart rainbows," she noted, which made Jessie explode into laughter.

"I think we're gonna get along just fine, Sonya," Kit said seriously as they went into the garage.

Sonya was earthy. She was polite and friendly, but she was very practical, and she was a middle-class femme in a rich femme's world. She didn't have a debutante's manners. She had the manners of a girl born and raised in the middle class and who went to public school all her life, even after her father got rich. He'd insisted that his three kids continue to feel normal, and instilled a work ethic into them. All three of his kids had to work, and if they didn't work, they wouldn't get a dime from him. Her very normal upbringing despite money gave her a practical mindset and an honesty rarely encountered in the circle of the rich.

He could see why Vil liked her. Vil wasn't against her own class, but her position as CEO meant that she appreciated strength and honesty in her friends, furs tough enough to be her friend, furs she could depend on when the chips were down. Sonya was both strong and honest, and that was the perfect combination. Vil had "old money" friends as well, but they tended to be much more deceptive and less courageous. Vil rewarded those she felt would be there for her when she needed them, and most old money wasn't quite that dependable. They had their own reputations and fortunes to worry about. That was why Vil decided to give Sonya a spot on her bridal party, because she knew she could trust Sonya.

Right now, being able to trust someone was important.

They barely had time to have a cup of tea with Sonya and Suzy—coffee in Sonya's case—when Stanley warned them that the Brightons had arrived. They all got up and went to the courtyard in time to see a stretch limo pull in around the curve and into the paved courtyard, the driver bringing the car right up to them. The driver got out, as did a rabbit dressed in a dark suit, who opened the back door for the occupants.

The first one out just had to be Winston Brighton. He was a middle aged male, tall and thin, with wise amber eyes, wearing a smart gray suit and carrying a silver-topped cane. He even wore a bowler hat, which had holes cut in the top to make room for his ears. And like Kendall, he had the same dark patch of fur in the white under his chin, the "Brighton spot" that was as much a distinguishing feature for the Brightons that the eyes were for the Vulpans… just not as obvious. He offered his paw to Kit as a tall, broad-shouldered young fox piled out of the limo behind him, wearing a dark suit. "Winston Brighton," he introduced himself. "You must be Vilenne's brother, Kit. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Pleased to meet you," Kit said politely as Nick hovered nearby, and a third fox climbed out of the limo, who was wearing a dark suit as well and was about a head shorter than the first one. "My wife, Jessie, and friends of the family and two of the bridesmaids, Suzy Jenkins and Sonya Cooper."

"My, they make them big in America," a brown-furred hare said as he stepped out of the limo, looking at Sonya. He was shorter than Jessie by about an inch, and was roguishly handsome on top of filling out the shoulders and arms of his suit impressively.

"Looks like they make them small in England," Sonya retorted, which made Suzy and Jessie giggle.

Winston chuckled. "My sons, Harry and Michael, and a friend of the family, Charlie Duke.

Kit shook paws as Winston kissed Jessie and Suzy on the cheek, then stepped up to Sonya, laughed, and pulled her down so he could so the same. "We've heard quite a lot about you, Kit," the taller Harry said as he shook Kit's paw.

"No doubt," he chuckled. "You certainly look like your brother."

"The old male made sure to stamp his face on us," Michael chuckled as he shook Kit's paw. "So, you run a magazine?"

"I partly own one," he answered. "Do you work for your Dad?"

"I do, Mike's still in college," Harry answered. "He goes to Leeds."

"One more year," Michael chuckled.

"Thanks for the invite," the hare said with a crooked smile. "This should be fun! A wedding in the middle of a war, complete with soldiers," he grinned, looking over at the huge wolf.

"Well, welcome to the headquarters of the rebellion," Kit said with a dry smile as Winston gave Jessie a second hug, and put a paw boldly on her belly.

"Why, you're absolutely radiant, Jessica!" he said with a bright smile. "There's nothing lovelier than a pretty young lady expecting. When are you due?"

"September thirtieth, Mister Brighton."

"Please, call me Winston, my dear," he said with a smile. "After all, we're going to be family in just two weeks!"

"Why don't we go in?" Kit called. "We have tea waiting, Jessie made some scones for us, and the tailors should be here in about fifteen minutes."

"You cook, my dear? A hobby?"

"A necessity," she laughed, allowing Winston to take her paw and lead her towards the door. "I'm sure Ken told you about us."

"Naturally, but that doesn't mean that you can't enjoy what you must do. If you do, then it's a hobby rather than a chore."

"Well, I love to cook, so I guess it is a hobby," she said with a smile.

Kit learned after sitting with his future in-laws that they were quite interesting. Harry and Michael were very vocal and teasing of their father, who was just as teasing with them, which was diametrically opposed to his own family. If anyone had ever made a joke about his father, his father would have destroyed them. Nobody showed disrespect to his father, not even his own siblings… nobody except Kit. Harry and Michael were warm, friendly, and funny young males, but the true rooster in the room was Charlie Duke. He was swaggering, boastful, boisterous, and quite funny, and Kit felt that Kendall was right… how could a combatant take the hare seriously in a fight? The idea of him dressed in a military uniform and barking commands at soldiers was a little funny. Kit could also see why Kendall liked him, since Kendall had similar personality aspects to Charlie, just a bit more muted. Kendall was a lighthearted yet intelligent fox who enjoyed a good joke, liked to make furs laugh, yet was very smart and was capable of playing the game. This Charlie Duke seemed much the same kind of male as Kendall, as were his brothers, and to a lesser extent, his father.

After about twenty minutes of honestly enjoyable conversation, the tailors arrived, and there were a lot of them. Nick cleared them first, and then they broke into two teams. One team, half males and half females, fitted the males, while a team of femmes fitted Jessie, Suzy, and Sonya. It was the same tailors who had fitted him and Jessie with their wedding clothes, and they had come prepared. They still had Kit's measurements, and they showed up with his best male's tuxedo already made for him. It even fit. "Now that's service," Charlie noted as a vixen put him up on a stepstool and started measuring him.

"We have Mister Vulpan's measurements on file," the vixen helping him answered as she tied his tie. "And it seems you're still the same size, sir."

"Almost," he chuckled, patting his stomach. "I'm a touch thicker down here."

"It doesn't show," she told him.

"Well, they know how to flatter," Harry laughed as a fox measured his arm.

They did have to make a couple of tiny alterations to his tuxedo, so Kit took it off and gave it back to them as the others continued to get measured. He was about to pour himself a cup of tea when his manor phone rang, and he saw it was Vil. "Hey sis," he called. "Mister Brighton and the others are all here and getting measured."

"Well, that's good, but that's not why I called. Me and Brian are on our way over right now."

"What's wrong?"

"They know what happened to my chopper," she answered, a bit ruefully. "Turns out it was a real accident, bro."

"You're serious!" he gasped.

"As a heart attack," she answered. "Another Sikorsky chopper the same model as mine crashed in Utah two days ago, and they linked them. Both choppers had their tail rotors basically explode on takeoff. They've grounded the whole model while they figure out how what's wrong with them and how to fix them."

"Well, I'll be shaved bald and thrown on a stage," Kit breathed in shock. An accident. A real accident! And after he'd all but threatened to kill Zach for trying to kill his sister, it turned out that he was actually innocent of that particular crime… but Kit wasn't feeling contrite enough to budge an inch. They were still fighting against his sister, trying to push her out of her hard-won and rightful place, and he would do everything in his power to help her fight back. That included holding firm in Stonebrook to keep Zach out, to deny him the ancestral base of power of the family.

An accident. This was going to change things, but not all that much. Vil wouldn't be able to destroy Zach in the way she might want to now that it was apparent that he hadn't tried to kill her, and in a strange way, he was actually glad of it. The idea that Zach had tried to kill Vil would have been a dark stain on the family, that they had truly plunged into a dark pit that would make the family almost irrevocably tainted. But it didn't change the fact that Zach, Jake, and Maxine were trying to evict Vil, and they had to be opposed.

But he could still give a small sigh of relief. His uncle was a bastard, but at least so far, he wasn't a murderer… though Kit felt that he was fully capable of it. He had once supported his father's attempt to kill him by denying him medical treatment. If that didn't define a bastard, Kit didn't know what did.

"Why is Brian coming?" Kit asked.

"We have to talk this through and decide what to do," she answered. "If any of the cousins check in before we get there, let them know what happened."

"I will. When will you be here?"

"I'm going to go pick up Ken right now, so we'll be there in about an hour."

"Alright. I'll have lunch ready about that time."

"Good deal, bro. See you in an hour."

"See you then." He closed the phone, lost in thought. How were they going to proceed from here? Now that they knew that they really hadn't tried to kill Vil, how was that going to change their plan? He stood there a moment, tapping the phone on his chin, pondering. Actually, it wouldn't change it much. The plan was basically playing defense, stalling until Vil was married, which would introduce a new level into the game and make it virtually impossible for them to unseat her from the chair, and therefore would make it almost impossible for them to remove her as the head of the family. Once Vil was that deeply entrenched, with two friendly Vulpans on the board and Ken and the Brighton family backing her up, the elders would be forced to realize that they would never take Vil out of the chair, and thus would probably try to negotiate for some kind of favorable terms to reconcile the family. Vil would probably make a couple of concessions about reining in the wilder kids, by offering them jobs and responsibility, Kit realized, and then the family would return to an uneasy peace.

Damn, was his sister one clever, clever little vixen. That was what that whole offering jobs to the Party Pack was about, it was a means to get them under control by putting them in the company and under her direct supervision. And the femmes, so starved for attention and a need for being respected in the family, would probably jump on it. He could admit it so easily, that Vil was the true chessmaster between him and her, and she was so much more suited for the big chair than he was.

God, was he proud of his sister.

"What are you smiling about, young Kit?" Winston asked as the tailor finished measuring him.

"My sister. She's the most cunning femme I have ever known in my life," he said lavishly. "She's on her way over here, and there's some important news."

"Oh?"

"Turns out that my uncle did not try to kill her. Her chopper crashed because of some kind of design flaw, another one crashed a couple of days ago the same way hers did. So she's coming over with my uncle Brian and your son and we're going to talk about what happens next."

"Next? Why, she gets married," he said simply. "With my son as her husband, your uncles wouldn't dare try to forcibly remove her from the board."

Kit chuckled. "And also opens Vulpan Shipyards up wide open for Brighton Industries."

"And vice versa," he smiled. "We already have some mutually beneficial agreements in writing and waiting to be reviewed by the board, we we've decided to hold off on that until after Vil and Kenny get back from their honeymoon." He chuckled. "Besides, for us, the true gem is Vulpan Steel," he said with a light smile. "Vil will sell us ship-grade steel cheaper than we can get anywhere else, and Vulpan Steel will still turn a profit."

Kit laughed. "I was right about that," he grinned. "I figured that was what you were after the most."

"That and a solid connection between our families. Together we are a much more powerful force than we are separate. Your family controls most of the shipbuilding in America. Mine controls most of the commercial shipbuilding in the former British empire. Together, our families control nearly half the commercial large-scale shipyards in the industrialized world, and we can strangle our competitors with our alliance. That is a dynasty, my young male. When I pass on, the shipyard goes to Kenny. He's married to Vil. Their son will control it all. Vulpan Shipyards and Brighton Industries will merge in all ways but on paper to be controlled by a single family, and our united family will have a stranglehold on shipbuilding in the industrialized world for the next century. The Vulpan-Brighton family will be one of the most powerful families on this planet."

"You do think ahead, Winston Brighton," Kit said appreciatively. "I thought Vil was devious. You, sir, are a master, and I bow to you."

"It's why I'm where I am today," he said seriously.

Kit used his manor phone to call Jessie. He could go see her, but Suzy or Sonya might not be decent. "You could have walked, we're in the next room," she giggled.

"And get slapped for seeing something I'm not supposed to see? No thank you," he answered dryly. "Vil just called, and she had big news."

"What is it?"

"Vil just got word that her chopper crash really was an accident," he told her. "Another chopper the same model as hers crashed in Utah two days ago the same way hers did, so they think it's a design flaw. She's on her way over here right now with Ken and Uncle Brian, and we're going to talk about what to do next."

"Oh, okay. I doubt you'll need me for that," she chuckled. "They had my measurements already, but they have to alter the dress because I seem to have this little problem, as they put it," she laughed.

"Alright, I just wanted you to know what's going on, love."

"I'll call Rick for you and let him know."

"Go for it, pretty kitty."

The Brightons and Duke continued with their fitting while Kit tried to make lunch, but promptly got chased out of the kitchen by the chefs, who were already preparing a lunch fit for Winston Brighton and his sons and guests. Having nothing else to do, Kit decided to call the cousins, Rick, and Sam and spread the news. He called Rick last and chatted with him and random members of the gang until Vil arrived with Kendall and Brian.

Kit kissed his sister on the muzzle when they came into the TV room, and gave Brian a cool, distant stare which put him off. Winston and his sons and Charlie Duke came in almost immediately afterward, and Kit watched Kendall interact with his brothers and father. He saw that they were a very close family, the smiles and kind words very honest and sincere among them. Charlie, he saw, was almost a brother in the family from the way Ken greeted him, and the way Winston patted him on the back and held his arm around his shoulder. The Brightons were old money, and Kit was happy to see that at least one old money family was close and happy.

"You're looking well, you old meddler," Vil laughed as Winston gave her a gentle hug, mindful of the new smaller cast on her leg, still gleaming white, with only Kendall's signature scrawled across the shin.

"I'm glad you succumbed to my meddling, or I'd have had to send Harry and Mike over too," he grinned. "One of the Brighton boys was going to marry you, Vil. And if they failed, well, I'd marry you myself."

She laughed. "I'm too smart to marry someone like you, Winston," she winked at him. "My uncle Brian," she introduced, stepping aside and motioning to him.

"Nice to see the reinforcements arrive," Brian laughed. "It's been quite a campaign so far."

"Vil keeps me up to date," Winston nodded as he shook Brian's paw. "I'm just glad at least one of Vil's elders is on her side."

"I'm the youngest, I have this radical idea that Vil is actually better suited for the position due to these little things called ability and leadership," he chuckled. "The fact that she managed to lure her brother back into the family tells me everything I need to know about her ability to get things done."

"Yes, Vil is quite a femme," Winston smiled. "I was so impressed with her when she was at Oxford. I knew she was special. And I knew she had to be in my family."

"You're in my family, you old meddler," Vil laughed. "I'm a Vulpan before I'm a Brighton."

"I see we're going to have one fight," Winston smiled. "The last name of your son."

"Brighton Vulpan," Vil, Brian, and Kit said in unison, which made Winston laugh.

"Kenny is the male, his son should carry his name."

"Now you know why they call us those damn Americans, Winston," Vil told him, patting him on the cheek.

Once the jokes were over, though, the discussion began. They all sat down, Stanley, a terrier butler named Virgil, Dee, and Sally served them tea and Jessie's homemade scones, and they discussed the revelation and how it would impact their campaign. As Kit expected, the main thing Vil stressed was that this information wouldn't change their primary goal, and that was to hold out until Vil was married, play defense with just enough offense to keep the elders wary and honest and force them to invest some resources into protecting themselves. The fact that the elders really didn't try to kill Vil was good news all around, though, since it showed that at least so far the elders weren't willing to take it to that level. Either they wanted to keep it civil or they hadn't had an opportunity to take a shot at Vil yet, but it was considered a good thing that Vil's accident was just that, an accident.

"Really, the only thing we have to do is just keep going the way we're going," Vil declared after about an hour of debate. She was about to say something else, but the door opened, and Suzy led Sonya and Vil in. "Hey girls, you all finished?"

"Just finished," Suzy answered as Jessie sat down beside Kit, and he put his arm around her and kissed her on the muzzle. "It took them a while, they had to get the measurements just right for our circus clown costumes."

"They're not that bad," Vil protested, which made everyone laugh. "I think sapphire blue is a lovely color!"

"Oh, the dresses are lovely, Vil, but they fitted us for our circus outfits for the reception," Suzy winked.

"You'll be in a clown suit now, Sue," Vil teased. "Brian, this is Sonya Cooper."

"Ah, a Cooper!" Brian said, standing and shaking her paw. "I'm impressed at how fast your family rose, my dear. Your father is a genius, both in tech and business."

"We're proud of him, Mister Vulpan," she smiled, looking down at the shorter male.

"Please, call me Brian," he said, then they all sat back down, reviewed for the new arrivals, and continued the discussion.

Kit listened without injecting much as Vil laid out her strategy of stalling for the next two weeks, which would basically entail laying low and harassing the elders using outside agencies while giving them no means of getting at her either in a business sense or a personal sense, and by extension those allied with her. Vil now had full and complete control of New Orleans as well as Austin, and that meant that the youngers who were openly rebelling against Zach's clique were untouchable. Kit excused himself to go to the bathroom, but Nick stopped him when he came back. "We have a little problem," he said in a low voice.

"What is it?"

"Let's go up to your bedroom," he said. Kit nodded, and he followed Nick up to his room. When they were inside and the door was locked, Nick pulled a picture out of his pocket showing a jackal of middle age wearing a Valiant Security uniform. "This is one of the new hires for the reception," he said. "But he's no security guard. His name is Jahal Mevas, he's an Israeli Arab who used to work in the merc circles about twenty years ago, but he retired. He worked in Mossad as an infiltrator, since he's a loyal Israeli yet he's also obviously Arab."

"Maybe he's working for Valiant just part time?"

"I doubt it. He's old and hasn't played the game for a while, but that doesn't mean he's not capable of playing. None of us would have recognized him, he quit the game before we got into it, except Donny's dad was also in the game and worked with someone who worked with Jahal. Infiltration is his specialty… and now he shows up here at Stonebrook posing as a security guard. It can't be a coincidence."

"Well, shouldn't we throw him out?"

"I think we need to talk to Vil," he said. "If your uncles hired him, then he's here for a reason. If we can figure out what that reason is, we can maybe score some major intel."

"But Jessie—"

"I have an idea for that, Kit, don't worry. Barnett's a surveillance expert, and he also has access to some intelligence-grade bugs. I think if we take the proper precautions, we can find out why he's here without him doing any damage, because we know about him. We'll make sure he's shadowed every second, I'll assign him to a post where we have complete cover on him, and Barnett will plant some bugs on and around him. So, call Vil and have her come up here, just her. The more furs know about Jahal, the more chance he finds out about it."

Kit felt a little uncertain about this, but he did take out his manor phone and call Vil. "Sis, can you come up to my room real quick?" he asked.

"Why?"

"Let's just say I need your opinion on something," he answered.

"Bro, we're kinda in the middle of something important."

"Trust me, sis."

There was a brief pause. "Alright, be right up."

When Vil got up to the room, Nick again showed the picture and explained who he was. Vil started grinning almost immediately. "And you're sure he doesn't know you know?"

"I had no idea until Donny came up and told me about him after I sent them home," he answered. "Today was just a four hour briefing and general training day. They'll all be back tomorrow for a full eight hours."

"And you think he was hired by my uncles?"

"Why else would he be here? A retired merc wouldn't be working as a security guard. He'd be doing freelance security consulting."

"And you're sure you can ferret him out without putting anyone in danger?"

"Absolutely."

"Do it," she said immediately. "But I want Jessie and Kit escorted twenty-four seven."

"Sylvie and Donny will take care of it," Nick nodded. "Kit, I want you to start carrying a pistol."

"What? But—"

"I trained you myself how to safely use and carry a gun, Kit, I know you'll manage it safely. I'm going to give you a Glock twenty-nine, they're specifically made for concealed carry and are pretty powerful to boot. I want you to be armed, because that's the last thing anyone would ever expect. A Vulpan wouldn't be walking around in his own house carrying a gun. If a disaster happens, I want you to be able to defend yourself and Jessie."

That was all he had to say. Kit nodded grimly, which caused Nick to pat him on the back. "Good mate," he smiled. "I'm also going to put a little present in here. I have an extra MP seven, and I know you know how to use it. We'll hide it here in your room, that way you have some serious firepower if you ever feel threatened."

"Alright."

"Remember, both of you, the key to making this work is silence," Nick told them. "Kit, you can tell Jessie, but don't tell the staff, don't tell Muffy, don't tell anyone else. The more furs who know, the more chance Jahal finds out we know about him. I'm going to assign Jahal to a static post on the drive, out in plain sight and a hundred meters from anything, and we'll go from there."

"I'm not too happy about this," Kit said. "We're letting a dangerous male inside the walls."

"We know about him, that makes him much less dangerous," Nick said calmly. "I'll talk to Barnett and the others, and we'll work out exactly how to keep you safe while we give Jahal a chance to lead us to whoever hired him."

"Then I'll leave it in your paws, Nick," Vil told him. "I'll get back down there before they wonder what we're doing up here. Keep me informed."

"Will do, Miss Vil," he nodded.

Kit blew out his breath. Maybe his elders weren't being as gentle as he first thought, if they'd gone out and hired a professional mercenary to infiltrate the manor… for whatever reason. Now there would be a potentially hostile force inside the walls of Stonebrook… and two weeks of starting to feel a little relaxed and secure in this place of old ghosts and bad memories went right out the window.

Chapter 36