Cyberkatz 1999

Commando Raid

                                                             EPISODE TWELVE

"I must have my cat. Now."

Cynthia's voice shocked Kurt into wakefulness like a pail of ice water. Quivering, he swung his feet over the side of the bed, groping for his jeans. This was an emergency, and he didn't want to face it in his jockey shorts.

He had been asleep when the phone on the beside stand rang. He grabbed it automatically and grunted 'hello' before he remembered where he was.

How in the hell had Cynthia found him? More important, where was she calling from?

"I don't have your stupid cat," he said, receiver tucked between his jaw and shoulder as he battled with his fly zipper. "Just leave me alone. I don't know squat about what's going on, and I've had it." Somehow, he had to gain enough time to find a safe hiding place for Mel.

Melissa was standing on the small circular table by the window on her hind legs, her nose poked under the curtain. Kurt scooted across the bed as far as the phone cord would allow, still talking. "If you don't leave me alone, I'm calling 911. You can't get away with this --"

The phone cord popped out of its jack on the receiver, interrupting the conversation. Kurt rolled off the bed and delicately pulled back the corner of the curtain. He peered out at the row of parked cars. His Trekker seemed undisturbed, and all was quiet at the motel office.

"How in the hell did she find me?" he muttered, opening the curtain a little further to look towards the street. There was a big black motorcycle sitting on the sidewalk with its lights on.

"Holy shit!" Kurt breathed.

The rider got off and started walking towards Kurt's unit. A small grey shadow ghosted beside him. A cat! According to Mel, it couldn't be Cynthia, but there were plenty of operatives prowling earth's surface. Who could guess how many were lurking in the shadows?

Kurt grabbed the phone and re-connected the cord. "Cynthia, be reasonable," he begged.

There was no answer. The line was dead.

Mel had jumped off the table and scurried to the other side of the room.

"911 it is," Kurt said, slamming the receiver down. There was no dial tone when he picked it up again.

"Over here," Mel said in an undertone, her paw brushing the patio door.

Of course! If Cynthia didn't realize there was a back door, there was still a chance.

Kurt cracked the door open, leaving the night chain on just in case. Even before he satisfied himself that it was safe to leave, Melissa slipped out and melted into the shadows.

Kurt leaned against the door and tried to formulate a plan. Should he follow Melissa? Or should he stay and try to negotiate with Cynthia and her goon?

A heavy weight slammed against the door facing the parking lot, followed by the sound of breaking glass. "Open up!" a man's voice commanded. Kurt jumped onto the bed, pulled the bedspread over his legs, and tried to look nonchalant.

A small grey cat with fur like shorn velvet slipped through the hole in the window. "Do what Parker says. He has a disintegration pistol."

The cat spoke in a feminine voice similar to Cynthia's, but that didn't mean anything in this world of encounter suits and artificial voices.

"All right, all right," Kurt said soothingly, hoping against hope that Mel was out of range of their tracking sensors. "Just hold on a minute. No need to get all excited."