Operation Lightning

Drake was nestled quietly between the fence line and a large blue recycling box, pondering how everything had gone to hell. He was surrounded, and the Bluto Brothers could smell him.

I wonder if anyone got out with any?

The plan, he thought, seemed perfect. Manstein had plotted it out beautifully, as always.

They consisted of the standard six raccoon strike team:

1. Stavro and Melendez would dig the hole under the South fence. The pair would also supervise the ground collection and transport of the fruit through the hole.
2. Liana and Hedger would climb the tree, and one by one as quickly as possible, pick and drop the succulent treats to the ground.
3. Manstein and Drake were the interdiction team, spotting for threats and prepared to deal with them. In as much as a raccoon could that is.

"Why can't we just hit the trailer park? This is way too risky." said Stavro at the planning meet.

"H-He's right. Ain't no one ever got more than a chicken wing bone out of 'dere." Hedger offered tentatively.

"I heard they murdered that gopher family. You all remember, they lived under the shed." Liana was always sentimental.

"Nah, that's all hearsay. Headless chipmunk bodies? Sure. Mountains of mangled birds? All summer long. The Bros wouldn't and couldn't kill a gopher, even if they wanted to." Melendez stated confidently. "They might be the biggest cats on the block, but there ain't no way they're dealin' with the six of us."

Before Manstein could bring things to order, Alexandra made her presence known:

"It was not the Bluto Brothers who so wantonly murdered that poor, poor family. It was the humans in the house. Poison gas, or so I'm told." she said calmly, with a smile.

"Manstein, does she need to be here? This is raccoon business. And don't act all fake sympathetic, Alex. You would have eaten those gophers for breakfast, lunch and dinner." Drake didn't trust the fox, but his boss put good intel over any inter species rivalry. He finally spoke:

"Ladies and gentleman. Firstly, our distinguished guest never hesitates to share her vast knowledge with us. Only last month she tipped us off to the virgin campers across the stream. The drunken dullards with the styrofoam cooler, yes? We all enjoyed a lovely meal of sausages and watermelon that evening, did we not? So please, be polite." He admonished Drake out of the corner of his eye and continued: "We are raccoons. We are not rats. And though occasionally it is delightful to get scraps out of the garbage, we win through the beauty of a strategy well executed: By Deception, We Eat More."

The volume in Mansteins voice grew steadily, "The Halberstram household is a fortress. The fences are 12 feet high. The centerpiece of their immaculate backyard is the most glorious of pear trees I have ever witnessed. Shall we sit in our hovel as winter sets in, drawing straws to determine who gets to forage in the freezing air? Or do we strike now, and live awhile as Kings and Queens? What say you?"

The squad let out a roar of approval, as Alexandra lifted her head high with a grin. Drake let out a sigh, and nodded his head in agreement.

"We go tomorrow at midnight." Manstein declared.

******************************************

The hole was finished, the dirt cut in a semi circle underneath the lacquered wooden fence. Liana and Hedger had already climbed into position. The Bluto Brothers were nowhere to be seen. This was expected. Although the whole neighborhood knew them as lethal hunters, the Halberstrams made sure to let them in each night. They would surely be sleeping in luxury.

Manstein had moved dangerously close to the back door of the yellow brick house, atop a freshly built wooden deck. A hot tub, only half covered, filled up the entire left side of the structure. It was turned off. He peered around the corner of the house, and gave the O.K. signal with his toe covered paw.

Drake stayed near the hole. He had been ordered to listen for a flanking attack, while keeping an eye on the entire scene. He stood on his hind legs, foot tapping nervously in the grass. In a one on one fight, a cat is no match for a raccoon, but he was worried all the same. The Bluto Brothers: Tigerface and Ragnarok were fat, orange bastards. Strong but stupid. Maximus was a tabby, but the angular face of a Siamese, with long muscular limbs. Tycho was the brains, a majestic black cat and firstborn of the litter. Surely they were all on pillows dreaming of mice.

"Thud."

"THud - thud!"

"Thud - thud - thu-thuDDDD"

The pears were dropping now, and Melendez and Stavro dutifully started gathering up handfuls to transfer them through the fence.

"HOOOOOOTTTTTT - HOOOOO0000000"

Drake looked up to a tree in the next door neighbors yard. "Is that owl talking to the moon or...."

Melendez and Stavro each went through the hole. Drake would not see them again.

"RRRRRRROOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

.........HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS"

Manstein screamed "It's an ambush!!!!!!"

Drake looked to the deck in time to see his wise leader fall into the hot tub, the black cover falling atop him. He was trapped in the water. Tycho sat triumphant from above.

"THUD" "THUD"

"LIANA. HEDGER!!!!! NOOOOOOOO" Drake had just made it across the yard in a full charge when he heard his comrades fall to the ground in agony, their forms still in the grass.

"You can't run you common thief. Your little crew has pulled off it's last heist." Tycho was calm and cocky.

Ragnarok had appeared from around the corner. Tigerface emerged through the hole. Drake could see Maximus strutting atop the fence.

He ran to the fence beside the house under the deck, a large blue box the only object blocking him from certain doom. The last gasp and sound of struggle from inside the hot tub bellowed out and Manstein was gone.

I have nothing to lose. I'll make a run for it

Drake looked up to see which way to go. The moon shone bright over the horizon. A silhouette of a fox sat calmly on the fence. He couldn't see it, but she was smiling.