Basement

There might be a BDSM-dungeon down there just for customers, so it would make sense to appropriate it for holding Fox while she's being questioned. Well, probably tortured.

The freight lift handles your three-hundred-plus kilos easily enough, being able to lift several metric tons at once, so your ride down is smooth if a tad noisy. The doors open and reveal a hallway that has multiple doors on one side and plain concrete on the other. You turn your radar on and your cyber eyes place the radar overlay on. All of the rooms are empty, aside from the last one, where three people are standing. Well, one seems to be sort of hanging. That's probably the Fox, you think and trot to the door. It's not even locked, which feels sort of insulting but does make your job tad easier.

Left hand on the handle, right holding one of your **** rifles, you let the radar pulse one more signal out to confirm that none of the targets have moved, before turning it off and focusing on your next actions. You mentally run through them: open door, aim at the larger target on the side, shoot, switch to the smaller target in the center, shoot. Easy peasy.

The door bursts open and you're through the doorway in a fraction of a second, your strong legs launching you inside. The larger target is a human man in a frumpy tracksuit. He's barely lifting his pistol arm when you place a three round burst at his chest. Before his bleeding corpse manages to hit the floor, you've turned and sighted the smaller target, a human female with dark hair, wearing a lab coat over regular clothes. Well, you don't discriminate. Her mouth is open as if she's trying to scream, but the rifle spits out another burst and bloodflowers appear on her chest.

Your assistant computer helpfully notifies you that the "fight" lasted 2.35 seconds. You eject the magazine and replace it with a full one from your vest and put the depleted one in its place. Always go into a firefight with a full magazine if you can, that's what you learned from playing all those military shooters. Satisfied, you turn towards The Fox.

She is definitely both a woman and a dark elf. Her skin is dusky bluish grey and her hair is long snow white, the wavy tresses reaching her buttocks. Her face is of ethereal beauty, with wide pouting lips and high cheekbones. The eyes are large and mauve and seem to glow. Her body is to die for, a perfect - if tad exaggerated - hour-glass shape with large but high breasts, her nipples prominent and standing out. As if to crown the whole package, she only has a small tuft of white hair just above her mons. Your biomonitor flashes a warning of elevated heart rate.

"Please tell me that you're cavalry and not clean up", she says. God damn, even her voice is the perfect combination of sexy and melodic.

"Cavalry in the house, ma'am", you say and salute her. Oh right, she's still locked into that metal bar thing. You unbuckle the straps and free her arms, and she immediately slumps to the ground, massaging alternatively her calves and her wrists, though she stops quickly and half crawls, half scutters across the floor to the dead woman. Well, mostly dead, she's barely conscious and rapidly bleeding to **** - but Fox isn't satisfied with that. The dark elf finds a small metal probe in one of the pockets of the lab coat and, without mercy, pushes it through the other woman's left eye. Amazingly, the human is still alive, albeit barely.

"Here you go Abigail, have your rod back", Fox hisses, before repeating the act with her right eye. A girl after your own heart, though perhaps a bit too psycho, though you're not sure if passing judgment would be highly hypocritical at this point.

"Hey Fox, do you know if the boss guy whatever is still in here? I was told to help you finish him off if possible", you ask, when the dark elf seems to be content to just stare at the cooling corpse beneath her. Your question wakes her up, though and she gets up, her legs wobbling only a little.

"I'm not certain. He was here when my **** started but he grew bored soon enough and left. I know where his penthouse suite is, so we can check that. If nothing else, there could be a clue about his other hideouts", Fox explains. She doesn't seem to be bothered by her nudity and you're pretty glad that your enhanced dick means that you're not sporting a massive hardon while talking to her. Though you're tempted, someone who was tortured less than five minutes ago would probably not appreciate being sexually harassed.

The Fox undressed the dead woman - Abigail? - but throws her clothes down in disgust:

"Fuck, her sweater is all bloody and she shat her pants when she died", the elf grumbles. Instead, she grabs the pistol off the guard and takes off towards another door.

"Wait, we better use the freight elevator back here, the route is clear", you tell her. She nods and follows you through the tunnel to the cargo lift. You press the top floor button and prepare your guns as the lift rumbles upwards. Fox places herself behind your massive bulk, her pistol held ready.

"So, what should I call you, anyway?"

...

shit

...

"Uh, well, just call me The Bear", you say lamely. Damn, you really should've thought about having a cool handle.

"The Bear?" She sounds amused. "Well, thanks for saving my life, Bear", she sounds genuinely grateful.

The elevator stops with a shudder and the doors slide open.