FOX's and CATFISH's Safehouse

Located in one of the more run down sections of the city further down the aptly named 'Fox Street', FOX and her partner CATFISH were stationed in the downtown section of the city, New Prague. They had moved into the apartment about a week earlier, making it their safehouse while their partner's DINGO and SALAMANDER had a safehouse in Huntington Acres. They had now word yet from DRAKE or CLAYMORE, but the Scottish commander CLAYMORE was probably relaxing it up in Stoneville to the East of Raccoon City....


FOX yawned, sitting up in her bed, the half naked woman blinked her pretty long lashes and curiously looked to her left to see if her partner in crime, CATFISH was still in bed beside her. "Nope." she said sleepishly. They were not at all romantically involved, but they shared the bed and he put up with her snoring, but then again, most would perhaps find the snoring not as distracting as her minimal bed attire:



((ooc: reduce the breast size juuuust a tad in your brains xD or not, pfft I don't care ))

Her shirt had ridden up past her breasts again she noticed, upon rubbing her eyes and glaring over to a mirror with her big crystal blue eyes. "Catfish..." She yawned, continuing to wipe the tiredness from her eyes as she slid her feet off the simple mattress they had set up in the abandoned apartment's bedroom. It looked very much like a rat's nest, with broken floor boards, old garbage from random homeless. They had encountered a few vagabonds in the week or so they were there, and managed to keep them quiet by paying them or feeding them. Interestingly enough, many had great sources of information, as in places where they had good friends enter but never come out. Areas which could have meant they saw thing's they shouldn't have. Other things were mad talk, such as a massive Crocodile or some such living in the sewers. That same shit you hear all over growing up or watching that classic movie 'Alligator'.

She yawned as she stood up, adjusting the thong straps and removing her bed shirt. "Catfish, you up already?" In spite of it all, they had relayed all the homeless guy's info to the techies, DINGO and SALAMANDER over in Huntington Acres. CATFISH was a little saddened that the one homeless man who called himself 'Chief' didn't show up last night; for like CATFISH, Chief was a Louisiana born Vietnam Vet, and CATFISH, who claims his gumbo 'was the best', had wanted to test the old guy's taste buds, and it was what the two V-SAC soldiers ate last night while waiting for their favorite informant. FOX wasn't picky, so she just agreed it tasted alright to make him feel better. She had told her partner that Chief probably slept elsewhere to get out of the rain.

She stepped onto the hardwood floor of the derelict apartment's living room, where they had set up their military laptops, radio equipment, armaments and other stuff. An old couch they had dragged into the room acted as a cushion while the big black and silver attache cases acted as tables for the laptop and surveillance equipment. She could see the pair of Kendo Custom G-36 Assault Rifles their 'employer' had purchased for them laying against the wall:



They had the ability to mount a flashlight, any kind of rail-mounted grenade launcher or shotgun, and were fitted with a custom suppressor if you removed the flash hider barrel. They only had the suppressors for it, and side mounts for their maglights. Their 5.56 clear magazines were scattered upon the surface of a nearby case. Not too far were a pair of nine millimeter P226 Handguns, one of which was also FOX's. She yawned, blinking her long dark lashes again. "Hmm..." She hummed, looking around for CATFISH. There wasn't many places the young black man could be aside from the bedroom, the living area or bathroom. They were on the second floor of a shitty apartment complex that was probably abandoned since the 70's given the 'flower child' wall paper peeling off the shiplap.

"Catfish?" She called out again. There was no response again. She turned to the bathroom, and knocked lightly. “Catfish, you in there?” She moaned annoyedly through the door, her blue eyes lidded, pressing her ear against the door. Nothing.

She opened the door, and found the room empty, though her heart skipped a beat when she saw a rat scurry into the wall. She shivered. “Fucking hate rats…” She spat, turning on the light. Though the apartment was abandoned, they had managed to run a generator through the building and updated some of the wiring to make the safe house, well, work. The noise wasn’t much of an issue, given they had placed the generator in the basement which had thick concrete walls. No one was going to hear its mechanical hum outside. Though, to avoid curious eyes from the local authorities, only select areas of the building had power routed to the generator- the bathroom, the basement, and the living area she stood in. They even brought the plumbing back to speed thanks to CATFISH’s skills. The light didn’t come on when she flipped the switch.

Though there were issues.

“God… we really are the maintenance crew of the unit… aren’t we?” She groaned, shaking her head now that she thought it over. She closed the door, turning to the door for her boots. She was going to go down in that basement in just her thong and bra to turn on the generator which must have failed at one point while she was sleeping. It could explain Catfish’s disappearance.  

“He’s probably cursing over it right now, banging his head in the basement.” She smirked. She had fun teasing him. She grabbed one of the tactical lights on her way down, a small hallway with various other bedrooms down the hall to her right and left, with a main stairwell leading down to the first floor was in front of her. She yawned as she shuffled her way down the steps, her combat boots loosely on, her light shining through the darkness of the boarded up apartment. She could barely see light coming through the cracks of the windows, indicating it was at least morning outside this creepy cave of an abandoned housing development. FOX’s boots crunched under dusty floor boards and her heavy steps creaked throughout the dark home. Her ass felt cold, and she snapped the right strap of her thong again as she rounded the corner to the open doorway to the basement. She paused at this… the door was left never open. Not to mention, she couldn’t hear the generator.

“Catfish, you down there?” She called down, shining a beam of light down the narrow steps leading into the musty basement. “What am I saying, of course he’s down there…” She rolled her eyes, mumbling to herself as she continued down the steps. They creaked eerily, loud enough to echo in the cold basement. She could see dusty stonework as she ducked her head into 4ft space, the cobwebs and mold spots crawling up the walls here and there as she shown her bright light from wall to wall. “Yo, Catfish, if you’re down here and trying to scare me- just remember I can bench press 270, and you will feel my wrath!” She says, somewhat nervous. She hated rats, and she hated dark, spooky basements. And jumpscares.

She didn’t get a response. She turned her light to the wall where a bunch of left behind tools gathered dust and rust, and an open door leading to where the generator was stored lay in wait. The shivering half naked woman cautiously made her way over to the room, not wanting to trip in the dark. Her nerves already on high alert as the creaking upstairs made her skin crawl. “Its the house still settling… get over it Max…” she breathed. Maxine pushed her way through the door, her light illuminating the old boiler room. Her boot brushed past a rusty tin can, causing it to skitter across the dusty concrete floor, and crinkled leaves from God knows how long ago. Ancient beer bottles rolled in the darkness, and the sound of skittering movement from her left and right made her uneasy. “Damn it…” she cursed, pushing through a web which hung from the ceiling, taking a slight step down into the room the generator was in.

She scanned her light against the red painted machine. Its wires seemed connected, and it looked fine standing in the center of the old food pantry. Shelves lined the walls vacant, save some old mason jars and a cigar box. Fox inspected the device closer, her hand feeling the surface of the diesel operated device. It was warm. Cradling the maglight between her neck and right shoulder, the beam of light shines down on the gas cap, which she turned and pried open. “Huh, out of gas…” She murmured. It explained Catfish’s disappearance- he inspected the generator when the lights went out, investigated then left to grab some diesel.

Thats when she heard something shuffle behind her. She tensed up, her heart sinking into her stomach before she remembered she was a soldier, not some scaredy cat little girl! She grabbed the maglight and shot up, swinging her makeshift weapon out in a wide arc, and narrowly missing Catfish’s alarmed face! “Jeeesus!” He spat, his head leaning back in time to avoid the swing. He had a red canister in hand, which he brought up to defend himself with, and the metal flashlight had scrapped across its surface. Fox had stared at her terrified partner for a few moments, her breasts rising and falling with her panting tone, before she slowly lowered her light and gasped in relief! “Holy shit, ‘Fish you’re gonna be the death of me.” Fox exhaled, bowing her head a little. “Well, you almost were the death of me girl, Jesus… you jump easily.” he replied, sidestepping around her to fill the generator’s gas tank.

They stood around for a while in silence, filling up the tank, collecting themselves. Catfish was wearing a pair of baggy military fatigues and a basketball jersey for the Chicago Bulls over a white long sleeved shirt. A thin dark goatee and thin mustache and a slight scar across his nose made up his facial features, with a thin flat top haircut. She noticed a bandage around his right hand. She raised a brow. “What happened there?” Fox asked, shining the light on the wound.

The young black man paused for a moment and rose his hand, turning to her with an embarrassed look. “Heh, this? Got bit by a damn rat this morning when I was shavin’.” he answered. She shivered at the sound of that. “Well I told you to shave that beard before it became a rats nest.” She joked back. “You take that rabies vaccine in the kit?” He then looked her over and chuckled. “Yeah, and my stomach still hurts… Ya know, you’ll catch a cold if you keep standin’ around like that.”

Fox blinked, looking down at her disrobed state. She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I look more ready for a runway than a black ops mission.” She replied.
He laughed. “Yeah, I hear combat boots are in fashion this year.”
She closed her eyes, chuckling as she turned away. “Yeah, well get back to work Catfish.”
“Hey, you’re the one distractin’ me.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him and wiggled her butt. “Then stop staring at my ass.” She winked, pulling the strap of her thong again intentionally this time.
“Just go up stairs girl, you keep distractin’ me!” He laughed.

She left Catfish to mull over the generator, and back in the safehouse proper she began to freshen up. A little while later, Catfish came up and showed off an album. “Oh, yeah, I found this in the drop box.” He says, coughing into his arm. It was blank record album, with a red ‘V’ upon its paper surface. Fox glanced to the record player they had set up in the corner. “Orders from ‘him’ then, huh?” She asked.

He nodded. “Likely. He’s eccentric like that.” He suppresses another cough before heading over to the record player. They dragged it out, plugged it into the powersource before slipping the cold vinyl record from its sleeve and rests it on the player. Pulling the needle onto it gently, as the record began to spin, a familiar male voice spoke to them:

“DINGO, CATFISH, FOX, SALAMANDER. I hope you receive this record in time. On September 22nd, 1998- Umbrella’s forces infiltrated the underground facility known as the NEST. They were attempting to steal the G-Virus from Dr. William Birkin, but they had failed. Not only that, but last night, more troops were sent in. In the chaos, the refined T-Virus and experimental G-Virus samples were accidentally released,”

At this Fox and Catfish were wide eyed and sweating bullets.

“-meaning Raccoon City is now under a Class Five Alert phase, and an outbreak is imminent.” The voice paused.

“Jesus…” Catfish whispered, while Fox was unable to say anything.

“The water is contaminated for the next 48 hours. A chance of infection of drinking or absorbing the water is still low, but stick to unopened and purified hydration for the time being. Obviously, this means the mission has been altered somewhat. What remains the same is that you four are to continue your mission objectives- to collecting data on the location and then subsequent sabotage of Dr. James Ferral’s Lab, the SPIRE; which will allow our Wolf Unit’s unhindered access. To the facility.” the record crackled a little while their boss continued to speak.

“Fuck… they still want us to operate?!” Fox spat, her heart sinking with fear. They have heard about the virus infected monsters, but they never actually seen them face to face.

“...what has changed is your exfiltration from the city. You are to remain in Raccoon till Wolf and Eagle Unit arrive, you are to hand over your findings to Wolf, inform Commander DRAKE on all findings, and data pertaining to any infected or mutated creatures you should happen to encounter. You will be then given the location of Eagle Unit, who will provide you with immediate evac to our HQ. Due to the change in mission parameters, you are given the freedom to handle any hostile situation you encounter as you seem fit. Do not try to exfiltrate any Citizens, or divulge our plans to any who you encounter. You are to remain out of sight unless deemed necessary, and remember that you and your team’s survival is at the utmost necessity. Remember your training on Anti-BOW measures, and make it back home in one piece. If you are monetarily invested, be aware the CEO has increased your wages for the mission an additional 50,000 each. Keep your buddies alive out there. Should you be caught by any Civilian or Military outfit, you are to keep quiet, unless pressed to torture. In which case, go over Plan 21a- that you are members of an Elite Special Forces Unit working under the United States Army. Try and keep your heads down, and from the behalf of the company and Ceo… from me. Thank you…. And God speed….” The record continued to spin for a moment afterwards, before their boss’s voice spoke up again: “Please Dispose of this record af-SCRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEE-!!” the record screeched as Fox grabbed the black record, ripped it from the machine and then THRUSTS IT against the wall, shattering it into a million pieces!

“Fucking Christ!” she screamed, panting heavily. “They really want us to continue with the Op, in spite of a city wide outbreak?!” She screamed, turning to Catfish who was already stripping, getting into his combat uniform. “Hey, we signed up for this. We both knew it could happen.” He replied calmly, but had a nervous look on his face as he slips on his combat vest over his SAS style jumpsuit. He clipped his belts on, and checked his radios. She looked on as he continued to gear up, before she sighed. There wasn’t much of a choice, the city was gonna go under lockdown soon enough. “You’re right…” she frowned, pulling out a case from the corner of the room, which contained her gear. “Get a hold of DINGO and SALAMANDER, I need to gear up in that experimental thing R&D gave me.” The woman explained, pulling up the odd rubber looking suit.

“Ah yeah,” He snorted. “The ‘gimp suit’. R&D wants to push that out on everyone by 2000 if we are still operating around then. Supposed to be useful in sneaking around, snug as a bastard though.”
“Yeah, it rides up everywhere, I’ll feel bad for you dudes when that thing gets passed. Supposed to be somewhat bullet resistant too, and keep ya warm.” She replied, as she removed her bra and thong. Standing with her back facing CATFISH, she slipped on the one piece uniform. Her feet filled out the foot hollows, pulling the tight fabric around her jiggly ass, and then slid her arms in. She zipped the front up, pushing her hanging breasts into the padded cups, the zipper going up to her neck. Her hands and face were exposed, as per the design. There was plugs down her back, and she brushed aside her medium length, brown hair. “Hey, ‘Fish,” She called out to him, her big blue eyes shining over her right shoulder as she looked over at him. “Mind pluggin’ me?” She winked playfully.

The man smirked. “Heh, a week here, sleeping next to you naked and now you want to get plugged, huh?” He chuckled.
She smirked. “Oh har har.” She raised the vacuum device. “Just plug me in, kay~” She teased. The man chuckled, taking the vacuum device and plugged it into the pair of sockets on her upper back. Flipping the switch, the air began to suck out of the suit, and cling to her like a second skin, riding up her ass and tightly around her thighs, forearms and legs.

“Hah...ah, ow okay tight in the chest tight!” Fox gasped. Catfish stopped the vacuum, and removed the nozzles from the plugs. The black outfit clung to Fox like a second skin, and she wiggled her body to get used to the feeling. “Thanks.” She smiled, before she slipped on a black corset looking vest with back and abdominal protection. She laced and strapped the bullet resistant vest on, before pulling out her woodland camo military V-Sac Jacket hoodie, zipping it up.

While Catfish was trying to patch into DINGO and SALAMANDER, Fox continued to gear up. Slipping on her ventilated black fingerless gloves, strapping the thigh holsters for her pistol, and for the grenades, while slipping her combat boots back on and tying them tight. She grabbed her military bag, started adding supplies to it, her radio poking out of the top. She plugged it into her head phones, which she wore under her lucky cap which now adorned her head.



“Huh,” Catfish spoke. “I can’t get a hold of either.” he turned to her, concerned. “Some sort of interference.” He explained. Fox frowned at this. “Well shit… I guess plan B is fucked. Plan B being just to screw this mission and leave the city..” she sighed, adjusting her cap. “It could be Umbrella trying to cover their tracks. We’ll just have to get to DINGO’s safehouse on foot.” She scowled, lifting one of the G-36KC’s from the wall and loaded it, slamming the bolt into place, before strapping it to her chest. “We have to wait till Wolf arrives, so we may as well wait together. Besides, that ditz, Salamander didn’t even bring proper combat gear.” Fox continued, loading her P226, before sliding it into her right thigh dropleg holster.

She handed Catfish his G36 and handgun, whom had taken the liberty to feed and holster as well. “Yeah… we may wanna steal a 4x4 or something, try to keep on the down low till we can get over to Huntington Acres…” he says, coughing again. Fox raised a brow. “You alright?” The man nodded back. “Fine, just the dust and mold spreading in my lungs.” He chuckled. Fox didnt reply, but nodded gently back.

When they were finished gearing up, they put a heavy duty lock on the door out front to keep others from entering the building, not that it would matter. With the city soon under a complete infection, many wouldn’t raise much suspicion to it. “I got all the shit we need with us Fox, lead the way.” Catfish said out front. The air was cold, and a thick fog covered the entire area. They were about to find a vehicle to jack when they heard the loud crash, and a bleating bell style alarm.

“What the hell was that?” he asked.

“Trouble.” Fox replied, adjusting the rifle slung around her chest. “Seems like shit already hit the fan...I can hear sirens and everything in the distance… a couple nine mills too.” She says, and they both could hear the distant shots. And… an ambient chorus of moans and screams.

“C’mon… we shouldn’t stick around here.” She says, attaching her silencer to the G36, Catfish doing the same. The bell in the background still blaring off not too far from where they were standing…