FicWad

Chapter Three: Two Parts of a Whole

Cody had more than just a little adrenaline rush as he crouched there in the darkness next to his friends, waiting for the all clear. Stoker, Tawny, and himself had taken upon themselves the monumental task of blowing up a critical air base for the Plutarkians on a barren stretch of land some miles away from Gateway City.
The first item on the list was get past security personnel and get up to the control tower. There, Tawny would scramble all guidance and radio frequencies leaving any current planes in the air stranded. Meanwhile, he and Stoker would sabotage the remaining grounded aircrafts, place the bombs, and then haul tail before the whole place went up like a time bomb at midnight.
In front of him, Cody could hear Stoker's erratic breathing and even the thudding of the other mouse's heart in his chest. Something had the usually cool-headed, if not sometimes reckless leader of the Freedom Fighters, on edge.
"It's almost time, Stoke." Tawny whispered from behind the two of them.
Stoker nodded without saying a word, and Cody heard his heart thumping even louder now.
Stoker glanced at the watch on his wrist, and then out across the slowly emptying hanger in which they were hidden. "On my count, Tawny, head for the tower." he whispered.
The female mouse behind him nodded and watched Stoker's fingers as he counted down from five...four...three...two...
Tawny darted out from behind them and across the empty open space of the hanger, ducking for cover beneath space and aircraft as she made her way to her destination.
When she had disappeared from their sight, Stoker and Cody sat in the renewed silence of the hanger.
Cody leaned in closer to Stoker, speaking into one large ear. "If your heart thumps any louder bro, the whole base will hear us."
Stoker frowned. "Can't help it. I'm nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs."
Cody raised one bushy gray eyebrow at his companion. "What?"
"Something my grandfather used to say. Never mind."
Cody put a comforting hand on Stoker's arm. "It will be fine. Trust me. Now relax before you give yourself a heart-attack."
"I can't." Stoker answered curtly. He looked out at the clouded night sky. "A storms moving in."
"Great! Now it'll proved us some cover." Cody answered. Then with devilish impulse possessed only by Cody Orion, he moved his palm from Stoker's arm to his crotch.
Stoker suppressed a surprise squeak and pinched Cody's left ear fiercely. "Let go, or so help me God, I'll rip everyone of your earrings out."
"Just trying to get you to relax!" Cody giggled relinquishing his grasp.
Stoker muttered something about just being uncomfortable now and then moved forward. It was time to begin.

*

The five intrepid heroes made their sad journey home. Despite the victory at Hammer City, the sting of the Cocono Canyon mission was still quite strong.
Modo, who had taken their defeat the hardest said very little the whole ride home, and rode behind the other two. Lida sat with her little brother, but slept most of the trip. Alexis glanced worriedly back at their big grey furred friend from where she sat behind Throttle.
"Is he going to be okay?" she asked the tan-furred mouse.
Throttle squeezed her hand. "He'll be alright, Al. He just needs sometime to blow off steam, lick his wounds."
"Don't we all." Vinnie muttered. "How could we have lost? Maybe we shouldn't have tried this on our own. We're just not strong enough yet."
Throttle knew it was bad when Vinnie was admitting that maybe he had made an error in judgement. He smiled at him encouragingly.
"It was just bad luck, Vincent. We were out numbered and they were more prepared than we expected. We'll get 'em next time."
"Yeah...next time I'm gonna open a can on those bastards!" Vinnie nodded, his ego reinstated.
Throttle nodded in satisfaction and turned his eyes to the road ahead once more. Behind him Alexis gave him a little squeeze. "That was sweet of you." she whispered.
Throttle just smiled, and then gasped as he saw something familiar in the distance. They drove closer and began to recognize the jeeps and bikes...they had found the latest Freedom Fighter encampment.
"Ride Free Citizens!" Throttle called in greeting, letting the sentries know they were one of them. The Mice on duty waved in return as the four mice sped towards them.
"Hey bros!" A light-grey furred mouse named Flare, one of their prize technicians greeted. "Where you boys been? We've been worried!"
"Out getting our tails kicked." Modo muttered bitterly from behind them.
Flare looked them over carefully. "Looks like someone really put you guys through the wringer! Come on, we've got hot food and clean water if you guys wanna wash up."
"Oh thank heaven! I'm starting to smell worse than a Plutarkian!" Alexis exclaimed.
They walked through the encampment, eager to get some good food, a clean shower and a good nights rest in good company, when suddenly Throttle heard someone shout his name.
"Throttle!"
The tan mouse paused and turned to see an unexpected sight heading towards him.
"Dad?!" he gasped.
Axle threw his arms around his son, nearly knocking him over with the force of the embrace. "Oh thank heaven, you're safe!" Axle breathed, hugging him tightly.
Throttle was too shocked to say anything at first, and then just clung to him silently for awhile. He was consumed by two emotions, one joy that his father was alive and with him once more, and the other anger that he had left him to begin with.
Axle reluctantly released the young man and held him out at arms length to look him over. "You look like you've had a rough day," he said jovially.
Throttle looked up at him blankly for a moment. "I'm glad you're okay, Dad," he said after a moment.
Axle blinked. "Is that all you have to say to me?" he asked.
Throttle felt both ashamed and angry all at once. "I...you didn't even say goodbye! You could have died out there and I would have never known. So what do you want me to say to you, Dad?" he demanded.
Axle could not bring himself to be angry at his son's harsh words. They were perfectly understandable, if not entirely expected. Throttle was no longer a boy, and he spoke his mind freely. Perhaps even more so now.
"Throttle, we lost Smoke." Axle said then.
The young mouse's blue eyes widened. "What? But I thought..." he stammered. Anger was immediately replaced by grief. "Oh no." He covered his face for a moment and then hugged his father again. "I'm so sorry, Dad."
Axle nodded and patted his son bravely on the back. "I know, son. I know." he answered.
An awkward moment passed between the two of them, in which nothing was said, and then they moved towards the others, who suddenly seemed to be distressed.
Modo, Vinnie, Alexis, and Modo's sister Lida, were all talking loudly and excitedly to Flare and a couple of the other Freedom Fighters.
"...What do you mean they aren't back yet?" Throttle heard Vinnie exclaim as they came close.
"What's going on?" Throttle asked.
His friends looked first at him and then looked in surprise as Axle. "Oh! Hi Mr. McCloud! When did you-?" Alexis began.
"Never mind that now, what's going on here?" Axle interjected.
"It's Stoker. He and Cody and Tawny aren't back yet. They should have gotten back from their mission an hour ago." Flare said worriedly.
"Well maybe they stopped for a beer on the way home, what's the big deal?" Vinnie joked.
At that moment there was a rumbling in the distance that announced the arrival of Cody's jeep.
"See? What did I tell ya?" Vinnie shrugged knowingly.
Cody's jeep skidded wildly across the sand as it swerved into the camp. The tan-furred mouse, looking worse for wear and leapt out of the Jeep and then proceeded to lift Tawny from her seat and carry her urgently through the crowds of people to the closest medic. Stoker was no where in sight.
Tawny yelped and nursed what appeared to be a broken leg as Cody and a nurse sat her down on a cot. "You're gonna be fine, sweetheart." Cody assured her, kissing her forehead as the nurse took over from there.
The others rushed up to him. "Cody what happened?! Where's-?"
Cody grunted, grabbing his ribs and grabbed onto the closest of them for support, which happened to be Modo.
The big grey-furred mouse clutched onto his wilting companion as Cody Orion struggled to remain standing.
"Stoker's been captured...everything went horribly wrong...we were found out!" he panted.
Modo lowered Cody to the ground to let him rest. "Take it easy, Cody, one thing at a time! Where's he at?" Modo asked.
"The air base...but I don't know how long they'll keep him there."
Modo looked to Throttle for an answer to this increasingly grim situation. The tan furred mouse furrowed his brow for a moment, and standing there beside his father, Modo and Vinnie could not help but notice just how much to two looked alike.
"A rescue mission then. They won't move him anywhere tonight, it's too risky, too many things move in the desert at night. They'll wait till morning. We have till then to reach him." Throttle said sternly.
Throttle bent down next to Cody. "Cody, you gonna be alright?" he asked.
Cody grinned at the pup that was addressing him. "I'll be fine, just some bruises. Nothing I can't handle."
Throttle nodded. "Good, because I'm gonna need your help. Bros, saddle up." he said, moving past his father and heading once more towards the bikes.
Modo hesitated. "Throttle," he called. His younger bro looked back at him. Modo looked torn. "Bro, I can't leave Lida here, I need to take her some place safe." he said.
Throttle understood and nodded. "Safe journey, Modo." he said.
Modo nodded. "You too. Bring Stoke back safe and sound, ya hear?" he replied.

*

Stilton read over the notes of the situation in Hammer City. It wasn't anything beyond repair, although it had descended into quite an amount of chaos. Dane was dead, the Rats and Sand Raiders had rioted and currently took residence in the lower section of the west side. The Freedom Fighters had maintained their stance in the southern part of the side.
Stilton looked to his companions. Besides a few Plutarkian foot soldiers and a dozen Rats and Sand-Raiders, there was Crowley's replacement Feta; Stilton's counter-parts in the Rat and Sand-Raiders' tribal cabal, a Dog named Grunter and a Rat named Nax; and a Dog in a black cloak called Spyke.
The transport landed in an old parking lot. Stilton emerged, soaking up the stench of the old, rusted factories. A pair of Plutarkians and Crowley himself met with Stilton and his party.
After the traditional Plutarkian greeting, demanded by Crowley himself, Stilton went about business.
"If you will please escort my counter-parts to the Sand-Raiders and Rats," Stilton ordered.
Crowley nodded and jerked his head to one of his soldiers. They led Nax, Grunter, and the other Sand-Raiders and Rats away from the lot and down to the southern portions of the industrial park. Once well out of range, Stilton and Feta followed Crowley up to his office.
"Mr. Crowley, I am very concerned over recent events," Stilton said.
"Why is that?" Crowley asked in response, sounding just as civil as Stilton.
"The Sand-Raiders and Rats are . . . very important to our plans. I was hoping you'd be aware of that."
Crowley perked an eyebrow. "While, yes, I am aware of that, they are inferior races to us. Means to an end."
Stilton nodded. "Why, yes, they are, we still need them. And since we do need them, they are to be treated as equals."
"I disagree."
Stilton built up his stance. "Well, consider these my orders, Mr. Crowley. The Rats and Sand-Raiders are to be treated as fellow patriots in the war against the Mice. We are in desperate need of their services. Do you understand?"
"I . . . well, yes."
Stilton smiled. "Good. Now, come with me."
Crowley looked to Feta, who merely stood up with Stilton. The three of them walked out in front of the building. Stilton made a few comments on the weather, but it was nothing of very much interested. A number of the Plutarkians commanders came around now, curious to see their overall leader on Mars dealing with their leader here.
After a few minutes, Grunter, Nax, and Spyke arrived with the Rat and Sand-Raider generals that had been under Dane's commander.
"Let's all be friends here," Stilton said.
"I agree," Nax said.
"Spyke?"
Like a wraith, Spyke flowed in the sunlight. His sword was drawn quickly and shoved into Crowley's chest. Crowley crumbled to the ground, dead.
"Hold your positions!" commanded Stilton to the stunned Plutarkians around him. He turned to them then. "Let this be a lesson to you! Any that dare endanger the alliance between Plutarkians, Rats, and Sand-Raiders, they will share this fate!"
He paused and waved his hand to Feta. "You will now take your commands from Feta. He is your leader now."
And with that, Spyke, Stilton, Nax, Grunter and their escorts headed back to the transport ship.

*

The last thing Stoker BlackRuby remembered was being thrown painfully to the ground and his head colliding with cold hard cement. When the darkness that followed passed, he found his surroundings to be quiet unpleasant.
Stoker laid on the floor of a small, darkened room, his hands bound behind his back. On either side of him loomed a large, tubby Plutarkian guard, each brandishing billy-clubs. Stoker cocked his head slightly to find that what stood in front of him was yet another Plutarkian, an older fish with a large unsightly white whiskers on either side of his face, making him appear to have a mustache of sorts.
"Awake, are you?" the old fish huffed in a demeaning manner, as if Stoker had been unconscious merely to inconvenience him.
In his fat gloved hands he brandished what appeared to be a bull-whip. Stoker did not like where this was going at all.
The battered brown-furred mouse smiled at his captors. "I don't suppose you're going to let me off with a warning now, are you?" he asked gruffly with a playful smile.
He was rewarded with a painful kick to the jaw. Stoker spat blood and rolled away from his attacker, only to be kicked once more, this time in the gut. Stoker curled his body to avoid further blows.
"I don't approve of smart mouths, sir. It would be wise of you to hold your tongue unless spoken too." The fish with the whiskers replied flatly.
Stoker glared up at him. The man smiled in return. "You and your diseased ridden comrades destroyed three of my stench carriers, two low orbit crafts and killed twenty-three of my personnel, sir. Just how do you plan to make it up to me?" he asked, looking coolly and steely-eyed at the Mouse curled on the floor in front of him. It was as though he was admonishing a child who had been careless and broken some priceless knick-knack.
Stoker curled his lips back in a feral grin, his teeth pink with blood. "You got off easy." he replied. "If you hadn't caught me, you'd be a fish-stick by now."
The older fish raised the bull-whip and cracked it across Stoker's back. The brown furred mouse winced and squirmed as it ripped through his vest and shirt, stinging his flesh.
"There's that bad temper again." Was all the old fish said before bringing the lash down six more times across Stoker's back. He had no idea what the Plutarkian wanted from him, and figured the guy was probably just getting off watching him suffer.
When the blows finally stopped, Stoker looked up again. "What's the matter? Your arm getting tired, old man?"
"Get him out of my sight." The old fish snarled.

*

The darkest hours of the night crept by them as the small group made their way stealthily towards the base where their friend was being held captive. Throttle, Vinnie, and Alexis could see that Stoker and the others had done their job well, despite the fact that Stoker had been captured. Half the base was in bits, and there were Plutarkians crawling the place picking up parts and doing repair work. This made their job a little more difficult than they had expected.
The four mice, Cody included, flattened themselves against the soft surface of a sand dune and watched, ears twitching, taking in the far off sounds.
"If I were a Plutarkian...where would I store a prisoner until execution?" Throttle mumbled, gazing through the magnifying lens of his helmet.
"A storage closet, probably." Vinnie muttered beside him. He kept his eyes on the watch towers surrounding the area, making sure they were not noticed by the fish inside.
"There's only two floors to the building, Stoker will probably be on the first. Somewhere out of the way." Cody interjected. He gritted his teeth nervously. "This is my fault, Stoker had a bad feeling about this mission. He would have called it off if I hadn't egged him on." he sighed regretfully.
"Now's not the time for self-pity, Cody. We need to hurry." Alexis insisted. Overhead the moons of Phobos and Demos were just beginning to become visible through the passing storm clouds.
Throttle nodded in agreement. "Right. Alexis, you still have those grenades?" the tan-furred mouse asked.
Alexis grinned down at the two lumps protruding from the inside of her chest. "Yep! But do I have to get rid of them, bro? I mean...it's the closest thing I've got to boobs."
Cody and the rest of the boys tried not to laugh, or to look to closely at young Alexis's artificially engorged chest.
"Yeah...Vincent, you head off with Alexis. Cody and I will find Stoker. You need to be our cover when the time comes, got it?" he asked.
Vinnie and Alexis grinned stupidly and slunk off across the darkened landscape towards the closest watch tower...

*

Stoker figured that it must be somewhere past four in the morning judging by the position of the moons, which he could see through slowly dissipating clouds.
Contrary to Vinnie's suggestion, that they had locked their illustrious prisoner in a storage closet, they had simply bound the poor mouse to a wooden pole on the landing field and left him out there for the elements. But luck was on Stoker's side, and the rain had passed, leaving the night pleasantly cool if not a bit damp.
He had tried several times to undo the shackles around his wrist which bound him to the pole, but even his nimble tail could not break the lock. Having given up on that possibility, he now set himself to some hard thinking. He was going to be hanged in the morning, and as romantic of a death as that would be, Stoker didn't fancy it at all.
He watched the workers in the distance, a couple of yards away from him, continue to pick of the pieces of their demolished hanger, and the ships that had once preoccupied it without paying much attention to him. Even if he had been able to break his shackles, there were too many witnesses and he wouldn't have made it more than a few feet at most without being gunned down.
There was nothing for it. Stoker sighed in frustration and blew his bangs away from his bruised face and tried to get comfortable. He might as well get a bit of rest before morning.

*

In the distance, past the guards and unknown to Stoker, his prayers for escape were being answered, albeit slowly.
The youngest of the Biker Mice had so far managed to elude the sentries posted on either side of the watchtowers outside railings. Now they pressed themselves against the side of the tall cement structure, desperate not to be seen.
Vinnie pulled a grappling gun from his belt, took careful aim at the single blind-spot between the sentries, and fired.
The gun made a muted popping sound as it fired and the hook shot upwards through the air, landing with a clank atop the roof. Both Mice winced at this obnoxiously loud sound, offensive to their ears as they struggled for silence, but the Plutarkians didn't seem to notice or care.
Alexis, making sure her weapons were still securely in place, wrapped her thin arms around Vinnie's neck as the two of them were pulled slowly towards the top.
They approached the railing, and as they moved towards it, they saw their sentries, completely absorbed in what appeared to a bowl of worms. Two quick shots from Vinnie's blaster left the two of them stunned and unmoving on the deck.

*

Meanwhile on the ground, Throttle and Cody were in position on their bikes, waiting for the right time. Cody glanced at his watch that now read five fifteen in the morning. In less than forty-five minutes they would be ready for the execution.
The red-haired mouse looked at the young man who rode beside him and couldn't help but admire the boy's courage and clear-headedness. When Cody had been his age, the only thing he had been concerned with was getting down someone's pants. But these children were children of war, and they were aged beyond their time. There was something noble, and yet entirely sorrowful about the whole thing, and Cody gave a small sigh of regret.
Throttle glanced at him. "Everything okay, Cody?" he asked.
The older man smiled at his companion. "Just peachy there, kiddo. It's almost show time." he replied.
Throttle nodded and turned up the magnification on his visor once more to see how things were progressing.
"Alexis and Vinnie are in place, good..." He turned his head to the far left of him then. "I see Stoker! He's tied up...they'll be coming soon."
"Ten minutes and counting." Cody nodded grimly.

*

Stoker's moment of rest was interrupted by a strange tingle in his antenna. He opened his eyes and looked around him inquisitively. Work on the destroyed hanger had halted, and no one was in sight...
No one was in sight?
Stoker's eyes lifted to the watch tower that loomed above him, and he could not see anyone within...but that peculiar feeling in his antenna seemed to becoming from that area...he squinted, trying to see some shadowy form that lingered from the roof.
At that moment, a gust of wind swept through the field, and Stoker, his sensitive nose twitching, picked up two very familiar scents... He smiled. Help had arrived.
In the east the sky was turning from pale purple to soft pinks and oranges. The sun was about to bring a new day, and what might be Stoker BlackRuby's last.
Punctual as ever, the Plutarkians began to crowd around the remaining skeletal structure of the hanger. Two officers, accompanied by the old Plutarkian with the bull-whip, approached Stoker.
Stoker grinned at them in greeting. "The early fish catches the worm, doesn't it old man?" he said cheerfully.
The whisker-faced fish frowned in his disapproving manner. "Indeed," was all he said.
Stoker's restraints were lifted and he was marched, one officer on either side of him, towards the destroyed hanger.
The throng of excited fish greeted Stoker with hardy rounds of pitiless laughter and jeering comments as they pushed their way through them.
A long length of rope was tossed over the highest beam and looped back down. The self-appointed executioner - an odious smelling tall man with one eye-did the honors of fastening the noose around Stoker's neck.
The leader of the Freedom Fighters noticed that while the rope was tight, the knot was not placed at the nape of his neck, as to make a quick and clean death when he fell...no, the knot was somewhere behind his right ear. He would suffocate for several agonizing minutes before he finally died.
"I don't suppose your loosening that rope because you like me, eh chubby?" Stoker asked him. The fish showed him a mouthful of sharp, crooked yellow teeth and clapped him heartily on the back.
He then stepped away, taking the other end of the rope. Stoker turned his eyes towards the throng of fish who had come to watch him die. "Hey!" he said. "Don't I get a box to stand on? Or a horse or something like that?"
The old fish with the whiskers smiled for the first time. "No, you don't sir," was all he said.
He looked at the executioner...who began pulling.
Stoker felt intense pressure around his neck as he was suddenly lifted from the ground and moved slowly into the air. They were gonna string him up like a frickin' flag. Stoker kicked and squirmed as he felt the air being crushed from his throat.
"Anytime bros!" he gasped bitterly.
He kicked and squirmed trying to keep his neck tight as the life was being taken out of him. There was a shout then and he heard the sound of lazor fire in the distance. The fish turned their attention towards the on-coming shots, and just when the edge's of Stoker's vision were slowly being eaten away by blackness, he was suddenly free and tumbling to the ground.
He landed with a loud "oof!" and a thud and lay there for several seconds, hearing gunfire, lazor blasts, and shouts erupting all around him. Then someone grabbed him from behind and hoisted him up and he found him sitting behind Cody, who grinned at him.
"Have no fear, the calvary's here!" he cheered as Throttle sped along side him, gunning down every Plutarkian that attempted to get close.
"A little fashionably late, aren't you?" Stoker asked as Cody undid his wrist-binds and he rubbed his chaffed and strained neck.
"Always, luv. Always." Cody winked.
"Come on! Vinnie and Alexis have cleared a path for us!" Throttle called.
Vinnie and Alexis were still positioned on the look out tower and where picking off Plutarkians where they found them. When their friends sped by them, they jumped to their post where Streak was waiting for them, and then left their hosts a little parting gift by chucking their mouse grenades in their wake.
"Nice rescue little bros!" Stoker said as they came along side him.
"No problem, coach. Come on, Modo and the others are waiting for us back home." Vinnie answered.

*

That evening at camp, Stoker and Vinnie, neither of whom could pass up a chance for attention, were telling the tale of Stoker's daring rescue, while their friends and comrades laughed and cheered.
Modo, however, took no part in the story telling. Throttle found him sitting on the edge of camp with a blanket around his shoulders, staring out into the distance.
"You know," the tan-furred mouse said coming along side him with a mug of soup in hand, "it's a lot warmer over there by the fire. A lot friendlier too."
He offered Modo the soup and the grey-furred mouse took it somberly.
Throttle paused for a moment, sitting down beside him, following Modo's blank gaze across the field. "How long are you gonna beat yourself up over this?"
"He could have shot first, ya know." Modo said in reply.
Throttle looked at him curiously. "He could have shot first and that would be you, or me, or Vinnie or Alexis dead. I shouldn't have let the situation get that far, I shouldn't have put you in danger like that. If I had just done my job and shot that stupid kid, those people would be free."
"Maybe. But you're not heartless, Modo. What happened...was awful...but you're tired. You tried to get us all out of there without any harm. It was him who screwed up, it was him who was going to shoot first. You saved us." Throttle replied.
Modo put his head in his hands. "I'm a murderer."
Throttle shook his head and then put his arms around Modo's broad shoulders. "No way, bro. This is war, and he didn't leave you a choice."
Modo said no more, only hid his face in his hands while Throttle sat at his side, consoling him.