If Lions Are Cats, Then What Are We?

Vlatko steps out of the man's way, and continues. It becomes obvious quickly who he was running from.
Fox steps into the light. His eyes are tired, and his face is specked with gore. His coat is covered in dust. His mustache is exactly the way it was the last time they met, but somehow he seems older. So much older.
He remains motionless for a long moment. "Vlatko," he says, "it's been a while."
"Fox," Vlatko says, moving his hand into position next to both his revolver and his knife, "this is insanity."
"I was sure they'd send Wild Dog," he says, sounding empty. "I was hoping it wouldn't be you. You're too young to die like this."
"I don't plan on dying," Vlatko says, regulating his breathing. It's hard. He's seen Fox move before. The man is fast. Much faster than a man his age should be, and Vlatko has seen him shave a man's mustache off with a thrown knife before, and then repeat the feat on demand.
"I don't mean by my hand. If you start running now, you still probably won't make it. The Salt Flats don't care which city you work for. They'll kill you all the same. No, your only chance... Is to get past me. The fuse was set to five minutes. Maybe you could stop it. It's a damn shame those horsefuckers realized what was going on, or I could've made it longer. They could hear them through the stone. Bad luck."
Vlatko's control weakens for an instant. The tension is getting to him. Five minutes. That's not that long, but it's longer than a fight takes. Fox smiles.
"Hey Vladimir. Do you remember that time in Sarvuna, when we saw the lions?"
"Yeah," Vlatko says, forcing a smirk, "I do. You said they looked like cats."
"They are cats. I found that out the other day. This big family of animals with different names, and different qualities, but they're still a family. Do you think we were like that? All of us in the Bureau?
"Crows, Foxes, Eagles and Dogs? If lions are cats, then what are we?" Vlatko asks.
"Patriots." Fox answers.
Category:Stories