No one spoke during the drive back, with the werefox lowering his hat over his eyes and Mr. Tolle fidgeting the briefcase. The scenery morphed from its suburban green to its highway gray and black, with them approaching the airport and driving in. At the runway, several vans, including the missing one, was there, with Wild Coyote sitting on the bottom of the jet’s stairway. They stepped out from the van and approached Wild Coyote, though the werefox noticed that he squeezed the coyote plush tight and sucked from a cigar-like device, huffing out vapors.

“She got away.” Wild Coyote said, not raising his head when they approached. “The van was abandoned when they found it and there was no evidence on where she went off to. She could be anywhere, but that isn’t what bothering me.”

“What happened?” The werefox crossed his arms.

“A few things, in fact.” Wild Coyote huffed out another stream of vapors. “We figured out which hard drive she took. It was only one and it was the one that held everything, from software to blueprints, to create the Wiedzy, which doesn’t make sense.”

Mr. Tolle rubbed the back of his head. “That? If she or whoever she works for really wants to restart the project, they would need more than that.”

“What do you mean?” The werefox asked, turning from one man to the other. “That machine fed every combat and survival skill I know—”

“But that’s the thing, Blondie!” Wild Coyote stood up and stomps forward, passing the others. “The reason why it was so successful with you is because your body has been modified to beyond even the most athletic person. It wouldn’t be nearly as effective if they use it on some average guy. Unless they dumb it down or have some other purpose, all they would be doing is making someone with the brain and skills as Batman or Captain America without the body strength and speed as them.”

The werefox nodded, Wild Coyote’s back against him, and he rubbed his ear. “And you’re wondering why FOXWOOD got paid double for half the progress, right?”

“That’s part of it.” Wild Coyote shrugged before turning around, petting the coyote plush. “Best guess is that she was meant to get your blood but failed, and she got away with only half of what she came here for rather than attempt to get it by force. That explain some, but not all. In fact, the commander told me even more disturbing info regarding Oserotto.

“Namely that, ‘Agent’ Oserotto left the CIA weeks ago.”

A cold wind breezed through the area, which even the werefox felt through his clothes and fur. He cracked his knuckles as his ears flattened back, his expression hardening.

“She left?” Mr. Tolle remarked, taking a step back while his purple eyes widened.

“Yes. The commander talked with the CIA and they revealed that she resigned with no reason given.” Wild Coyote tugged at his lab coat he grunted. “They had no idea that she came to us, saying that she came from the CIA by some unknown US politician as an observer in the hunt for you.” He turned to the werefox and he huffed in and out vapors. “In fact, they thought that you died in the facility’s destruction.”

Both werefox and Mr. Tolle stared at each other, with both frowning, before Mr. Tolle asked, “Then the only trace is her employer. But who is he or she?”

“I don’t know,” Wild Coyote answered, sweating in the cold. “The only name we have is the obviously fake name Zwerg Pardalis. I have a couple of Greys looking into her quarters in the jet and back in the base. Hopefully, they’ll fine a clue.”

Two men stepped down from the jet, seemingly on cue even as Wild Coyote scratched his hair, one of them holding onto a small cardboard box. Their hair was wet with sweat, even as they breathed steady. They approached Wild Coyote and they saluted to him.

“Sir,” the Grey holding onto the box said, “we did a thorough check in her room, but she left nothing except this box.” He handed it to Wild Coyote, with the box bearing no mark over it. “We put it through several scans, but it detects no traps of any kind within.”

“Very good.” Wild Coyote ripped off the tape and opened it. His face paled a bit, with him dropping the box with a thud. “No way.”

The werefox blinked before bending down, reaching into the box and feeling something soft within. He pulled it out and within his hand was an animal plush, some kind of feline. He flipped it over from all sides, his mind flashed to a specific cat that this plush might be.

“An ocelot?” The werefox stood up, his fingers feeling a sort of plastic and he scanned it. “Hmm. There was a tag on it, but it got cut off. All that’s left is half of an M.” He turned to Wild Coyote, who gripped onto this hair in horror. “Do you know what this mean?”

Wild Coyote took another huff of that device and breathed out vapors. “Adam. But why, after so long?”

“Adam?” The werefox turned around and he noted at the other Greys were just as surprised as Wild Coyote. “Who is he?”

“It’s a long story.” Wild Coyote shook his head, picking up the box and ocelot plush. “It’s something I got to talk to the commander, Star Fox, and Brer Fox about.” He stepped forward to the jet before pausing, boot hovering over the first step. “That does give me an idea, though.” He took a step back before turning to both werefox and Mr. Tolle. He gave a small grin, handing the box and ocelot to a Grey before petting the coyote plush. “Blondie, I have an offer for you.”

“Why are you calling me Blondie?” The werefox rubbing his dirty blond hair. “It’s not that blond.”

“The movie Blondie isn’t even blond at all and you dressed up like him.” Wild Coyote turned off the cigar device and put it into his pocket. “Plus, I think it’s a good name for you.”

Blondie shrugged. “Very well. But what is it you’re offering me?”

“To put it simply, why don’t you join FOXWOOD?”

Another cold wind blew by, though Blondie didn’t feel it even as he held onto his hat. He looked over Wild Coyote before him, skimming him from head to toe, and seeing a sincere smile on his face even as he leaned against the stair’s railing. Even the suit he wore under the lab coat didn’t feel as off-putting as before. He tilted his head, his right cheek half-smiling.

“You’re asking him to join you?” Mr. Tolle’s tone sharp and filled with rage. “I have spent the last few years preventing organizations like yours from using him! I will not let you or anyone—”

“He can refuse if he wants to.” Wild Coyote’s tone was cool, putting the coyote plush on his shoulder. “And FOXWOOD will make sure no one will be able to locate him. However, we can protect him far better than you can. And I swear that I will not let Blondie be assigned to any missions that he found abhorrent.”

Mr. Tolle glared, his face twisted, even as Blondie said, “Didn’t your research into my back proved that I have killed, even outside of the facility’s control? What makes you think I won’t do the same with you?”

“You’ve already proved that you won’t.” Wild Coyote rubbed his back, through the sliced opening. “Besides, that report? It said that they found a body, but it was only one and, from what DNA evidence and skeletal examination revealed, the victim was Consilium. If anyone deserved to die, it’s him.”

“Still, I don’t trust FOXWOOD or your commander would support him and not use him.” Mr. Tolle placed his hand on Blondie’s shoulder and squeezed it. “I swore that I will die if it assures his freedom.”

“Believe me, if the commander has such ideas, Star Fox will stop him.” Wild Coyote rubbed his red hair, feeling every strand from the root to the tip. “And Blondie will be much freer with FOXWOOD, especially with where we have our base.”

Blondie rubbed his chin for several seconds, closing his eyes. His mind weighed the options given to him and he found the scales tipping to one end far easier than expected. Even with the possibility that they could all be lies did little to balance the scales. He opened his eyes and extended his hand-paw, giving out a small smile.

“I’ll see this base for myself and, if it’s to my liking, I’ll accept.”

Mr. Tolle gave out a gasp, but Wild Coyote laughed and took the hand-paw, shaking it. “How fascinating. I can assure you that you won’t regret accepting it.”

Wild Coyote stepped up the stairs, with the Greys following one by one. Soon, the only two that stood on the airway were Blondie and Mr. Tolle, with Blondie still smiling even as Mr. Tolle took a step back, stunned. Blondie took a step forward but stopped when he felt his shoulder squeezed on again. Mr. Tolle bit his knuckles and he shook his head.

“Are you sure?” Mr. Tolle asked, his voice shaking. “For all you know, this may be a trick.”

“Even so, I’ll be ready,” Blondie replied, rubbing his left ear. “Besides, no matter what we do, we’ll always be under their eyes. Best to hope that they are lying now.” He pulled Mr. Tolle into a hug. “Please support me on this, just as you supported me for all of these years.”

Mr. Tolle nodded, feeling his eyes becoming wet. “I’ll be with you to the end.”

The flight up north was uneventful, with Blondie and Mr. Tolle sitting in a room, sometimes looking out at the clouds and seeing the wings break them apart. The sun went down the further they went up north, and yet their spirits rose with every passing hour. Coyote once stepped into the room a few hours in, holding onto a thick book.

“Sorry for intruding. Just that I’ve been looking for this.” Coyote handed the aged book to Blondie, the green glowing galaxy cover displayed at the front and, as he gripped on it, noted that the dust jacket was wrinkled. “I noticed that you only have Tolkien’s books and I want to see if you’re interested in any other books.”

Blondie shrugged. “I can give it a go, though Tolkien’s books are the only ones that held my attention so far.” He looked at the title of the book just above the galaxy: Isaac Asimov The Foundation Trilogy. “What is it about?”

“In short, it’s about how a group of scientists of a dying galactic empire plotted so that, rather than taking thirty thousand years for a new galactic empire to be founded, it’ll instead take a thousand years using psychohistory.” Coyote grinned even as Blondie opened the pages, one of his ears flattening to the side. “It’s what I consider to be a great work and something that I still drawn inspiration from for new inventions. Of course, even I acknowledge that The Lord of the Rings is superior, despite The Foundation Trilogy won the Hugo Award for Best All-Time Series over it.”

“And a Hugo Award is important how?” Blondie asked, putting the book on the table.

Coyote chuckled a bit, putting his hands in his pockets. “Not much these days. Still, I think you might like it.”

Coyote stepped out from the room while grinning. Blondie picked up the book again and, turning towards Mr. Tolle and him giving a encouraging smile back, he nodded and opened the book. He turned to the first page and read the words on it.

By the time the jet landed, Blondie got to the midway point in Foundation and Empire.

Blondie and Mr. Tolle stepped to the door, with Blondie carrying the book and Mr. Tolle carrying the large brown sack. Blondie looked for Coyote, but could only see several Greys as the door opened up. The Greys stepped out onto the runway, with Blondie and Mr. Tolle following, with lights shining upon the runway and stars shining high above. This airport, if one could call it that, was bare with a thick forest surrounding it. Mr. Tolle shrugged, not seeing much farther than the lights allow. Soon, the lights turned off and part of the runway opened up, with a platform raising up to take its place while carrying three figures, one leaning onto a cane.

Blondie looked at them and, despite the darkness cloaking them, he saw them clearly even though they’re in black and white and he blinked, grabbing onto Mr. Tolle’s shoulder and squeezing it. Though they were humanoid in shape and stance, their tails swayed behind them, their triangular ears twitched, and he saw their snouts, with fur all over them. Mr. Tolle flinched and, when he realized the stunned expression on Blondie’s face, he felt his heart quickened.

“What do you see?” Mr. Tolle asked.

Before Blondie could answer, light shown at the runway again and Mr. Tolle gasped, seeing the three anthros standing there, each wearing an armorsuit that Coyote wore but with two wearing black overcoats and one, the lone female, was wearing a white lab coat. The right one, looking like a jackal with brown hair, looked over the two with his steely sky-blue eyes. The left one, a silver vixen with blue and silver highlights hair, gave a kind smile even as her blue eyes shone bright. The center one, a red fox with red hair, leaned against a cane yet still giving out a foxy grin, his eyes sea blue.

“So, you’re the guests of honor that Coyote brought,” the silver vixen said, giving out a low bow. “He called ahead and let us know. He even told us that he offered you to join us.”

Blonie stared at them, with one of his ears flattened to the side even as he heard footsteps from behind. “OK. This is not what I was expecting.” He turned to Mr. Tolle. “Did you know anything about this?”

“I-I had no idea.” Mr. Tolle gripped onto his hair as he turned back. “Why haven’t you—” He stopped, tugging onto Blondie’s arm while gasping. Blondie turned around and he took a step back, seeing an anthro coyote wearing Wild Coyote’s armorsuit and lab coat, though his red hair was duller. “What in the world?”

“Thought you were the only anthro, weren’t you?” The anthro coyote said in Coyote’s voice before grinning. “It’s still me.”

“How did you change your form?” Blondie asked, watching Coyote stepping past them and going to the other anthros.

The red fox chuckled. “It’s a long story, but in short: magic.” Blondie squinted at him as the red fox raised his hand, snapping his fingers and a fire appearing above his hand. Blondie and Mr. Tolle’s eyes widened and the red fox laughed again. “This world is a lot bigger than you think. We at FOXWOOD work to protect it from threats, the magical, alien, technological, or any of those combination.”

“In any case, this here is Vix.” Coyote gestured to the nodding silver vixen. “This is Star Fox.” The red fox waved away the fire. “And this is—”

“Please don’t call me Jack. How many times do I have to tell you that I hate that nickname?” the anthro jackal said, his voice sharp. “And in any case, my official code name, not the nickname Coyote gave us, is Thunder Jackal. This is Solid Fox.” He patted the red fox on the shoulder before looking at the vixen. “And this is Silver Vixen.”

“And together, we make up the Trickster Brigade.” Solid Fox stood up straight, even as his cane wobbled against the ground.

Blondie and Mr. Tolle blinked at them, with Blondie rubbing the back of his head. Solid Fox soon relaxed, with Silver Vixen lifting him and whispering to his ear. They approached the two, with Solid Fox extending his left hand-paw. Blondie gave out a smile to the other fox before he took the hand-paw, shaking it.

“I admit that I never expected to see anyone on this world who is an anthro like myself.” Blondie soon chuckled. “Now I don’t feel so alone.”

Solid Fox nodded. “That’s also why we chose to have our base of operation here. Within this region,” he waved his hand all around, “you will see an entire society of anthros, even some creatures only seen in fiction, and from all branches of life. Even if you chose not to work for us, here you can live out your years.”

Blondie looked at Mr. Tolle, who's eyes were still wide and his mouth open. He raised his hand-paw against his open jaw and shut it, causing him to flinch. He shook his head before rubbing his temples, feeling overwhelmed by this.

“In all of my years of working for organizations like the FBI and CIA, I never thought that there would be a secret like this,” Mr. Tolle said before he grinned, looking at Blondie. “What do you think?”

“I think I should have something to eat and then sleep on it. Then I’ll give you my answer.” Blondie’s ears pointed upwards and Solid Fox nodded.

“Sounds great. I know a place we can eat at,” Solid Fox said. “Still, I need to dress for the occasion.”

“Very well, but what will I call you?” Blondie asked, the group heading onto the platform along with the Greys. “I doubt you’ll want to be called your code names while in some restaurant, right?”

“Nope. Just let me ask the commander for approval.” Solid Fox pulled out a smartphone and sent out a text message just before the machine below them made a whirling sound. Soon, a reply came and he grinned. “And he granted it.”

“I think I’ll start,” Wild Coyote said as the platform lowered them down. “My name is Alex Latrans.”

“Ash Aureus,” Thunder Jackal said, looking above and seeing the stars blocked by the closing cover.

“My name is Zelda Crevan,” Silver Vixen said as she rubbed Solid Fox’s shoulder.

“As for me,” Solid Fox gave a little bow as he closed his eyes, “call me Daren Crevan.”