“Commander Feral!” the officer said with a hint of urgency in his voice as he knocked once and stepped into the room.
Feral calmly looked up and asked what he wanted.
“Sir, Goldfinch has informed me that he and the Lieutenant have brought in your alien.”
“On what charge?” he asked with a bit of concern.
“I don’t know, sir. I just know that he told me to get you on the double.”
“Very well,” he said as he rose and checked his coat. “I’m on my way.”
“You know,” a cocky looking kat said from one of the corners of the cell, “maybe she would be good for a bit of sport.”
Autumn gave him a dirty look and asked if he wanted his nose broken too.
“What are you going to do against all of us?” he sneered.
“It won’t be all of us,” one tom snarled as he pushed off from the wall and took a spot beside her.
As the cell began to divide, a very large tom that was sitting on a bench by himself finally spoke up. “Enough,” was all he said. Still, it was enough to break the formation. Looking at the spot beside him, he motioned for her to sit down. “Seeing as none of these hairballs is kat enough to give up his seat to you.”
“Thank you,” she kindly replied while the cut behind her knee started to throb.
Then an amused smile played upon his features as he said, “Kitten, you’d best watch who you’re mouthing off to.”
“Yeah,” chimed in the guy who’d said she’d be good sport. “I woulda’ kicked your tail.”
Quite a few prisoners gave him a dirty look, as the big tom continued, “The lieutenant can make your life utterly miserable, and it’s not like you’re a native here. You won’t be afforded the same rights as us.”
As she opened her mouth to answer, they all heard the elevator doors open. “If you’re lucky, that’ll be Feral.” Autumn looked at him quizzically. “He’s a pain in the tail boy scout, but he’ll protect you.”
Autumn nodded her understanding as the imposing figure of a dark furred kat with piercing gold eyes filled the doorframe of the cell. “Miss Silvers,” he said professionally as he wondered what screaming idiot put her in the general population.
“I am,” she answered with equal calm.
“Please keep your hands where I can see them.”
“Sorry, Commander, can’t do that.” She shrugged.
Narrowing his eyes a bit as he braced to make a quick draw of his side arm, his voice dropped a couple octaves as he asked, “And, why is that?”
“What?” he snarled.
“The lady’s cuffed,” answered a prisoner.
Taking a step away from the cell as he drew his weapon, he ordered her to stand and turn around. The big kat beside her helped her up and turned her.
“You and I are going to have to have a long talk about one of your lieutenants,” she shot over her shoulder.
“Which one would that be?” he asked re-holstering his gun.
“The one with the broken nose.” She scowled.
“Did he do that too?” he asked as he gave a slight nod to her slightly bloody leg.
“It’s why I nailed him,” she said simply as as she turned to face him. “I don’t appreciate being assaulted by a police officer.”
“He have a name?” Feral asked, knowing in the back of his mind what the answer would be.
“Steele,” she stated plainly, “the weasel’s name is Steele.”
“Yeah, she put up quite a struggle,” Steele boasted to some enforcers in the coffee room. “Feral’s nuts if he thinks she’s no threat.”
He didn’t notice, or perhaps didn’t care to, the looks on the officers’ faces as they wondered exactly how to respond to that.
“Did you find the old woman?” she asked as Feral pocketed the cuffs.
“I haven’t received any reports on this incident yet,” he said as he motioned for her to proceed. “It’ll get my full attention when it comes in. In the meantime, I’m going to take you up to interrogation three so we can talk.”
“Calico Briggs,” she answered distractedly as she tried to think of what to write for the mayor’s speech.
“Miss Briggs, it’s Lieutenant Steele. I just thought you and the mayor might want to see this vicious alien before she’s shipped off to Pumadyne.”
“Pumadyne?” Callie asked, her attention fully engaged.
“She’s clearly a danger and should be studied.”
“What in the world gave you that idea?” she practically screeched.
“The she-devil broke my nose and attacked me again when I took her to the tombs.”
“We’ll be there shortly,” she said crisply, wondering how she was going to trick Manx into this.
Disclaimer: SWAT Kats: The Radical Squadron is copyright to Hanna-Barbera Cartoons Inc. All Rights Reserved. © 1995. All other characters and material within this page are the property of their respective creators.