Jayson opens the metal door of the bunker for Hideout Two. Ambient light spills into the dim, damp room. Red tinted orange streaks on the wall stretch from the ceiling down to the floor, and in the back of the room, underneath a faucet that once belonged to a sink, is Mortimer, still strapped to the chair. Claw marks damage the chair arms and irregular water droplets drip on his head; his face is soaked in cold water, matting his orange fur and dark hair, and bits of water have pooled in the dips and channels of his facial scar.

Jayson stands next to Mortimer and quietly watches him. A few seconds later, Mortimer tilts his head to Jayson and flashes a strained smile.

“Well, if it isn't the one and only Hobo Warrior Bunny. Come to marvel at your prize?” says Mortimer.

“You've been here for a while. Just tell us where Ramsey Prosper is and we'll cut you loose,” says Jayson.

Mortimer looks at the ceiling and waves his cuffed hand. “Nah, I'm good. I needed some time to relax. Working for Mama Bear can be stressful sometimes.”

“You can drop the act. There's no way you're enjoying this,” says Jayson.

“Admittedly, I do think the service is subpar. Perhaps a foot massage will help me relax.”

“You’re not getting a foot massage.”

“Claribel would give me a foot massage.”

Jayson huffs and puts his hand on Mortimer's shoulder. “Look, none of us wants this to go on any longer than it has to. Just tell us where Ramsey is, and we'll cut you loose. The longer you withhold that information the worse it’ll get for you.”

“Spare me your threats, will ya,” says Mortimer dismissively. “They’re not going to work on me. When I get out of here all I have to do is pop some pills, chug some alcohol, and all this goes away. I'll be good as new in a week. Now, if I betray Mama Bear, she's going to send people after me, and they will turn me into soup. So, my incentive to help you out is non-existent.”

“Alright, fine. You don't want to deal me, you get to deal with Derrick,” says Jayson.

Mortimer flashes a thumbs up. “Cool.”

Jayson storms out of the bunker, and when he steps outside, the morning sun shining through the dying tree canopy burns his eyes. Waiting for him as Lexia, Derrick, and Trafford. Lexia is wearing her armor and leaning against a tree with her bazooka propped next to her, Derrick is smoking while watching Trafford, and Trafford is eating a large protein bar.

“I tried being nice. It didn’t work. You’re going to have to try again,” says Jayson, looking at Derrick.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Derrick drops his cigarette in a murky puddle and walks past Jayson.

“Alright, I’ll get him to talk,” says Derrick.

Derrick goes into the bunker, and Jayson looks at Trafford. Trafford grins and waves at him, and he sneers and sits on a rock far from Trafford. All while Lexia rubs her shoulder against the bark with a satisfied smile.

“Man, this bark feels good. You should try it, Jayson,” says Lexia.

“No thanks,” says Jayson, still staring intently at Trafford, who is still smiling at him.

******

Inside the bunker, Derrick walks towards Mortimer. The fox’s ears twitch the sound of shoes clicking against the concrete, and he lifts his wet head and smiles.

“Hey, there he is! The man of the hour!” says Mortimer.

Derrick grabs Mortimer's throat and slams his against the seat with a loud thud, making the fixer gag. Then Derrick squeezes, drawing blood, and he leans in close, so his beak is near Mortimer's muzzle.

“Listen here, vermin. Tell us where Ramsey Prosper is and what his connection is with Trafford Augustine or else you'll have an empty casket for a funeral,” says Derrick.

Mortimer laughs. “Are you threatening to put me in an acid bath? Come on, man! You know I'm not scared of you! Plus, killing me will get all of you plus your families killed. You don't want that, do you?”

“I ain't got a family.”

Mortimer grins. “Mama Bear says different.”

Derrick punches Mortimer's scarred portion of his face, drawing blood. Mortimer screams in pain, and Derrick punches him three more times, tearing up the scaring with his rough talons and leaving the fox’s face drenched in blood. The water from the leaky pipe carries it down, coating his neck and collar, and Derrick grabs Mortimer’s muzzle and presses his talon under the fox’s eye.

“Where is Ramsey Prosper?” growls Derrick.

Mortimer strains a smile. “Turn the water temperature to warm and I'll give you a clue! A nice little clue! How about that!”

Derrick releases Mortimer and punches him in the maw, leaving his mouth bloody.

“I'm not playing games with you,” growls Derrick.

“That's a darn shame. Games are fun!” cackles Mortimer.

Derrick turns the crank on the faucet, and a constant stream of cold-water splashes down on Mortimer’s head. Mortimer coughs and sputters, and his limbs shake while the watered down blood splashes off his face. Derrick holds Mortimer’s jaw open and forces him to chug the water. The water splashes and Mortimer’s tongue and trapped limbs thrash in the chair.

Derrick turns off the water, and Mortimer coughs and sputters and vomits out the water. He wheezes for air, and Derrick grabs his hair and yanks it so they are eye to eye.

“Are you going to talk?” says Derrick.

Mortimer gasps again. “Do it again. I’m still thirsty.”

Derrick forces Mortimer’s mouth open and turns on the water again, restarting the thrashing and strangled gurgles.

*******

Outside, Jayson and Lexia stare at the hideout door with wide eyes. But Trafford pulls out another protein bar and casually eats it while he stuffs the empty wrapper in his pocket.

“Oh yeah! This is great! I need this! I'm so dehydrated! Hydrate me good!” shouts Mortimer, his pained voice muffled by the metal door.

Lexia seethes and slips her bazooka on her back. “You know what... I think I'm gonna go. I need to take my mom to her popsicle stick building class, anyway.”

Jayson looks at her with wide eyes. “Wait, right now?”

“Yep. Uh... Bye.”

Lexia runs away, and Jayson and Trafford watch her leave. When she is out of sight, Jayson and Trafford look at each other, and Trafford grins and licks his lips.

“These protein bars taste good. Want a sample?” asks Trafford.

“No,” snaps Jayson.