Spy

Harry Broadback nosed his way up to the surface of the water and peeped around. As expected from the intelligence report, not a guard in sight on the lagoon. Harry snorted a laugh, which bubbled the salty water around him. All that money in scientific developments and criminals were still vulnerable to shift changes. He huffed in deeply, dove back under, and kicked his stumpy legs. He surfaced again in a large cavern. A pocket submarine pen, from the looks of it, with a small submarine docked and awaiting some kind of cargo to be loaded. He splashed quietly to a ladder and clambered up. ...

Peter Dumac felt his tail bristle almost before he heard the storefront window shatter. He whirled around and caught a glimpse of black leather and a motorcycle helmet before getting shoulder-checked in the stomach. He hit the ground hard. The figure on him purred with satisfaction. A gloved paw rifled through Peter’s suit jacket. It took Peter’s gun from his shoulder holster, then found the hidden pocket sewn into his jacket and removed a little nondescript box. The figure watched Peter’s chest rise and fall, then stuffed the small box into its jacket pocket and ambled back the way it came. ...