He paused and raised an eyebrow. "Now, that wouldn't be you three, would it, Kurt?" And he winked provocatively.

Chris made a move to attack.

"Don't listen to him, Pete!" Kurt hissed, holding a little rabbit fist out in front of Chris to stop him, but deep down wanting him to slice Jack's belly asunder and then strangle the bastard with his own entrails.

"Who knows how long he's been standing there?" he continued. "He could have heard everything. Then he'll just repeat it to you and pretend he knew it all along and you'll be eating berries out of his paw..."

Jack blew an indignant raspberry at Kurt.

"Fortunately," he went on. "It was our kin, Kurt, who found her, and not Morellius or any of his henchmen. Lucky, that. Eventually we managed to learn what had happened and why she'd come. A tragic story, to be sure."

"Pete, this guy is manipulating you," Kurt growled. "He wants you to put a foot wrong, admit you're part of our rebellion. The only person he's going to lead you to is Emperor Morellius. Any excuse to kill you, Pete."

"But I'm not part of your rebellion," Peter said sharply. "Am I, Kurt?" He didn't take his eyes off of Jack the whole time. "You, what proof have you got that you know where Mopsy is? That Kurt's not right?"

Jack hadn't even shown a glimmer of fear. "The only proof I can offer you is your daughter herself, Pete." He faltered. "May I call you Pete?"

"No," Peter replied. "And that's not good enough. If you'd really spoken to my daughter, you would know something, anything, something personal that you would know I would know would be proof..."

"Like I said," said Jack, somewhat defensively. "She was not in a pretty state when she came to us. Babbling incoherently most of the time. And I wasn't the one who was there when she finally opened up. She's sleeping now."

Peter chewed his tongue and shook his head.

"You're gonna die for this, Jack," Kurt spat.

Jack turned on him angrily, his emotionless façade finally slipping. "And then someone else will come after me and tell you exactly the same thing and maybe you'll trust them and they'll take you to see his daughter and then you'll realise just how stupid and foolish you've all been!" he bellowed.

Kurt lowered his fist to let Chris attack.

"And you wonder why Morellius has such a strong, indomitable foothold over this entire warren," Jack snarled. "When the only opposition he has is wasting its time fighting amongst themselves. Go on, then, kill me. I know I'm telling you the truth and I know one day you'll find out. Providing you aren't killed first."

"He's threatening us!" Dave cried.

Jack rolled his eyes, shook his head.

"Kill him!" Kurt ordered.

Chris got ready to pounce.

"Commiserations," Jack said to Peter in a low voice. "This plonker's gonna get you lot killed. Too bad, that. It doesn't have to be this way."

Peter looked from Jack to Kurt, unsure of this.

"Hell," Jack said, almost to himself. "He might even kill you himself. But hey, you trust him if you wanna, Petey my son. After all, I'm the one that killed your little cousin Tyler, aren't I?" He burped.

"Hold it," Peter said sharply, just as Chris was about to launch himself onto Jack. The courtier hadn't even been making an effort to defend himself. Maybe he had already admitted defeat, but it also occurred to Peter that he was cockily sure of his own ability at manipulating Peter into defending him instead...

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Pete!" Kurt cried.

"No, let's just be reasonable and give him a minute," Peter said. "He just mentioned Tyler. Apart from us lot, the only rabbit round these parts who knows anything about him is Mopsy. If he was just parroting back everything we were saying before, then how does he know what Tyler was called?"

Chris finally took a step back. Kurt quietly fumed.

"Actually," said Jack quietly. "Couldn't I have spoken to this missing member of your party? What was his name? Benjamin?" Then he quickly added, "I haven't, by the way. Just thought I'd be helpful. And honest."

Peter looked round eagerly at Kurt, who closed his eyes.

"This is a mistake," said Kurt in a singsong voice.

"Then stay here," Peter snapped. "Or go away. I don't care, Kurt. This is the best lead to Mopsy we have yet and I'm going to follow it. If it's a trap, it's a trap. I'll die. Right now, I don't give a shit. I'm so tired I can't even think straight. I don't even know what I'm saying half the time. But if there's a chance..."

"We're with you," Mark said on behalf of him and Tom.

Kurt rolled his eyes and sighed. "Fine," he growled. "We'll come too. And if he is lying... well, at least we'll still get the chance to kill him before they kill us, won't we?" And he glared at Jack.

"Thank you," said Peter pointedly.

Finally having the upper hand, Jack looked composed once more.

"Alrighty then," he cooed.

With a spring in his step, he led them back along the A414, past the point where they'd run into Fox Mulder earlier, closer to the edge of the country park where they'd joined the Writtle Bypass, and even further away from Roadkill Turnpike.

"Just how far away is she?" Peter asked impatiently.

"Not far now," Jack said with a pleasant smile.

"Can we pick up the pace a bit?"

Jack didn't respond. He was comfortable in the assured pace he was maintaining and comfortable in the hold he had over the others. Knowledge is power, and it's not often rabbits have anything worth knowing to exercise that fact. So Peter walked ahead on his own, and Jack led from behind. The devious courtier made a point of slowing down whenever the others tried to gee him faster.

Eventually he took them away from the road, and they began to cross a wooded grove, which for all intents and purposes looked identical to the grove they'd chased Mulder into, and the grove below which Peter had found the females of the colony imprisoned. In fact, it probably was the same woodland. Slowly, as not to make it noticeable to the rabbits unacquainted with this area, Jack began to double back on himself and lead them closer to Roadkill Turnpike.

"What are you trying to pull?" a voice snarled from behind him.

Jack glanced back, safe in the knowledge he wouldn't be pounced upon until Peter was convinced he didn't know where to find Mopsy. Oh, yes, Peter would protect him from Kurt. The brute was edging in close and talking in hushed tones the others couldn't hear. His breath stank, Jack noticed.

"Pull?" Jack asked innocently.

"Where are you taking us?"

"To Pete's daughter, of course."

"You're taking us in a circle."

"You must be imagining things."

"No. I have a great sense of direction."

Jack chuckled, miffed it had been Kurt who rumbled him.

"What kind of game are you playing, Jack?"

"A game? I don't play games, Kurt."

"Do you know where his daughter is or don't you?"

"Yes, of course I do. And you'll see."

"So why muck him around, for pity's sake? It's his daughter, man. He thought she was dead. She thinks he's dead. Why can't you just do something straight for once in your crooked, little, arse-licking life, huh? Why all this manipulation and game playing? Why can't you just stop fucking with people's heads?"

Jack chuckled again. "Kurt, please..."

"I've already worked out you're not one of us," Kurt accused. "I know you've got no interest in seeing Morellius toppled. What have you got to gain? You're well in there, boyo. You've got everything to lose when he goes."

Jack shrugged. "Actually, not quite true."

"Isn't it so?" Kurt said, his voice rising.

Peter glanced back at them irritably. Why couldn't they hurry up?

"You're a small-minded, single purpose drone of a bumbling, bristling fool, Kurt," Jack said quite softly. "You haven't thought about this at all, have you? Ooh, Morellius big, Morellius bad, get rid of Morellius. That's about the limit of your entire philosophy, innit? Well, that's why I'm more a part of the rebellion that will finally topple that son of a bitch than you'll ever be..."

"Which way now?" Peter called from the front.

"Cross the stream," Jack told him.

Their path came perpendicularly to a shallow, pebbly brook. Tom reached it ahead of Peter and began looking for some twigs to cross. Peter couldn't be bothered with all that. He just waded in, and a few seconds later, waded out again. Rabbits may not have a propensity for puddle-based water sports, but Peter was fit to burst.

"Follow it that way," Jack instructed.

So they began walking again. Kurt waited until Jack lagged behind again as to prolong the journey even further, then accosted him once more.

"I'm telling you now, if Pete's daughter isn't waiting for him at the end of all this bullshit, I'm gonna kill you." He paused, snorted. "Hell, I think I might just kill you, anyway." Then he growled for emphasis.

Jack rolled his eyes. "As I was saying," he sighed. "You haven't really thought about this, have you? Well, think about it now. What do you think is going to happen in two or three months from now, when all the pretty young maidens fertilised today reach birthing season? Hmm?"

"What are you on about?"

"Nobody's died in a week, Kurt," Jack said. "Nobody's seen a single car in just as long. Come birthing season, we're going to have several hundred replacements for rabbits that just don't need replacing. They won't have died. Six or seven months down the line, where are we going to put all these new rabbits?"

"Morellius will expand the warren..."

"Ah, but will he? See, this is where your little hazelnut-sized brain has failed to explore the possibilities. You think that because you're against Morellius you're a revolutionary. Hardly, Kurt. Despite your rhetorical warblings, your idea of revolution is stained with the idea that Morellius is the omnipotent being he and his followers like to believe he is. More fool them, I say. More fool you!"

"Which way now?" Peter growled.

They'd reached a split in the stream.

"That way," Jack said, nodding to the left. Then he lowered his voice and returned to lecturing Kurt, "The revolution is coming, Kurt. Morellius can't stop it now anymore than you could start it. It's beyond rabbit powers. This one we have to thank Nature for, or whoever got rid of the humans at last."

Kurt looked unconvinced.

"Yes," Jack continued. "Within the year, this warren's going to be bursting beyond capacity. They won't be able to expand it fast enough to cater for all the new rabbits. After that, these bi-monthly fuck-fests just won't hold a purpose anymore. In fact, I think Morellius will end up sending his courtiers out to stop people breeding like mad, instead. And can you imagine how well that will go down? Would you want the job of telling a rabbit they can't have sex again for a very long time?"

Kurt chuckled, then he realised Jack was working that devious conspirator's magic on him and straightened his face. "Perhaps you're right," he muttered.

"Perhaps? Stick around. You'll see. If he tries to stop them breeding, the people will rise up and bury Morellius and his courtiers in a muddy hole. And that's why I have everything to gain by being on this side in advance, see?"

"But... but..." Kurt stammered. "He'll be right, though, won't he? The rabbits of Roadkill Turnpike will have to stop breeding. The warren just can't hold that many rabbits. Even if they get rid of him, they'll realise he's right eventually."

Jack looked at him keenly. "Now you're starting to think like me," he said. "I mean that in the nicest possible way, of course. Yes, of course he'll be right. Oh, the irony! Still, we'll get rid of him, won't we? And things will change."

"But it will take longer," Kurt said. "If people listen to him as soon as he realises the breeding programme can't continue, then the females will be liberated sooner, won't they? If they get rid of him and then still try and continue the way things are, it'll take them longer to realise, won't it?"

"Oh, dear," Jack sighed. "Now you're starting to sound like a captive-bred eunuch again, Kurt..."

"Look!" Peter suddenly hissed. He'd frozen at the edge of the trees, having sped up to reach it ahead of them. Jack, Kurt and the others reached it shortly afterwards, and saw what he had seen.

They were on the other side of the hill to which the festivities were taking place. This side was just as grassy, but the grass was more of a yellow colour, as this plane of the hill caught more of the sun. There were dark rabbit holes dotted about the hill, and as they watched, little rabbits, natural-borns and captive-breds, males and females alike hopped in and out of sight. Peter's heart jumped at the thrill. Any one of them natural-borns could have been Mopsy. He ran forward.

"Mopsy! MOPSY!" he called out.

Jack stopped and sniffed dryly.

"She is here, isn't she?" Mark asked wearily.

"Yes," Jack said sincerely. He sighed. "For what it's worth, welcome to our little haven. There aren't many of us - we can't just tell anybody - but we're free, and safe, from Morellius' stranglehold here. So rest, recuperate, eat something... get reunited. I've got an important rendezvous to make..."

Kurt glared at him. Jack nodded back.

"Thank you," Tom called out.

Jack nodded again, then he left them standing at the edge of the trees and disappeared into the shrubbery at the base of the hill. Kurt watched him go, then looked round at Chris and Dave. Both their faces seemed grey and drained.

Mark and Tom were watching Peter. He had just reached the first rabbit hole. Rabbits on the hill had stopped running or grazing and were standing up to observe this bizarre stranger. Then, as they watched, they saw a little grey rabbit appear from a hole at the very crest of the hill and freeze. She had an unmistakable profile.

Peter wasn't even looking in that direction but he knew Mopsy was there. He spun round and for a moment almost toppled over, so high and elated he felt at this vision from his dreams. Then he started bounding uphill to meet her.

NOTES:
Writing one chapter over three weeks isn't a good way to do it. I didn't know how best to handle this reunion. I still don't. That's why the crux of it has been leftover to the next chapter. Certain threads are introduced to be developed in this final part of the story (which may end up being just as long, but I hope not, as I feel I'm slowly losing my grip on the material). I wanted to leave a contradictory impression of Jack: both helpful, but with his own agenda. I think this was clumsily done. Still, the nature of his off-page rendezvous forms the next part of the story.