Einstein Dog (21 page)

When the elements of a good plan are in place, there's nothing to do but watch and wait. Time becomes something solid and heavy, with a momentum that cannot be stopped or even slowed, sort of like a freight train. They had done everything they could to get ready.

Once Professor Smith had been warned about the need for precautions, he joined in the planning enthusiastically. They agreed to keep watch in shifts through the night. It seemed most likely an attack would come from the water side, because that would offer the assailants unobserved passage in and out.

They could escape across the lake in a couple of minutes and they could land anywhere,
Einstein pointed out.
The cops would never catch them.

Professor Smith wired the front door, running enough electricity into the handle to fry a gorilla. They had the back door targeted with a very nasty balloon-bomb. As a last line of defence, Bertrand had prepared some special ammo for his paintball gun, storing a large bucket of balls in the freezer, where they hardened like marbles.

Satisfied they'd done what they could, they went to bed, Professor Smith complaining light-heartedly about the stresses of living with a “celebrity hound”.

Ariel had the first watch, but before her shift was finished Bertrand and Einstein were at her side. “We can snooze during the daytime,” Bertrand suggested. “There's no way I can sleep right now.”

The clock ticked toward midnight. “Do you think they're coming?” Bertrand wondered.

They'll come,
Einstein predicted.

Since their conversation that afternoon his sense of foreboding had grown to a near certainty. AMOS and the Global Council had ways of spying none of them could even begin to guess at. There was no way to hide from them, he believed. Sooner or later they would track you down, and he believed it would be sooner this time.

“And you think we're ready?”

Ready as we can be.

“Quiet!” Ariel shushed.

Startled by the urgency in her voice, they stopped their chatter.

Then they heard it, a boat droning like a mosquito way out on the lake. All three of them peered into the gloom, but couldn't make out any running lights. Whoever was approaching didn't want to be seen. The engine pitch changed just as Ariel spotted the dark silhouette of their enemy.

“There!” she pointed. “They've throttled back so we won't hear them.”

As the children watched, the engine was cut entirely and the ghostly vessel glided up to the dock. A shadowy figure dressed in black jumped out and tied up; a second figure followed.

Here we go,
Einstein said grimly.

Hindquist had put Charlie back in charge after the incident in the gravel pit.

“I can't trust either of you two idiots to do anything right,” the president of Advanced Military Ordinance Supply had raged, seeing the wounds inflicted on Charlie's hands and neck by Cap.

They'd talked their way out of that one: Bob hadn't used enough serum to put down the dogs so Cap attacked Charlie, who saved the day by strangling the mutt with his bare hands. The others had to be shot.

“One more foul up and you guys are going to regret you were ever born,” Hindquist had threatened.

“Remember what he said,” Charlie reminded as they crossed the front lawn of the resort. “No screw-ups, buddy, or we'll be deader than road kill. You keep a lookout; I'll let us in.”

Charlie took pride in his housebreaking skills, which had been made all the better by the inventions of Dr. Molar. Withdrawing a sonic pick from his kit, he inserted it into the keyhole . . .

Zap!

The jolt flung him backwards off the cabin's porch, onto the lawn. Stunned, his body still tingling with electricity, he stared up at the night sky.

“Holy smokes!” Bob gasped. “Charlie! Charlie! What happened?”

“Booby trapped,” the elder Gowler mumbled, staggering to his feet. “They went and booby trapped the joint. I could have been killed, damn it! They tried to kill me!”

“So what do we do now?” Bob fretted.

“What do we do?” Charlie fumed. “We go in through the back door, that's what. Then we wring their scrawny necks.”

“Won't the back be booby trapped too?” Bob asked nervously.

“Shut up, you idiot!” Charlie scowled, motioning toward the back of the cabin.

They stumbled through the dark. There were no signs of activity inside. Satisfied no one was awake, the Gowlers tiptoed toward the deck. Charlie examined the frame of the sliding door with a penlight.

“Nothing,” he reported.

“What if they're waiting inside?”

“Don't be stupid,” Charlie snarled. “If they heard us out front, they would have called the cops, right? And if they'd called the cops, we'd hear sirens by now, right? Do you hear sirens?”

“No.”

“Then shut up so I can hear myself think.”

Although he'd checked thoroughly, Charlie still eyed the door warily. After a long pause, he looked at Bob and grinned. “Try it,” he ordered, with a mock welcoming gesture.

“But . . . ”

“Try it!” Charlie insisted.

Gingerly, Bob grasped the handle and pulled, wincing as the door rolled open. “It's unlocked!” he whispered nervously.

“Well, that makes life easier, doesn't it?” Charlie chortled.

“But Charlie! This doesn't make sense! If they booby trapped the front door, they wouldn't leave the back unlocked, would they? It's gotta be another trap.”

“Only one way to find out,” Charlie gestured, shoving Bob toward the opening. “You first, bro.”

Bob poked his head inside. As Charlie had predicted, the kitchen and dining room area was empty. No sounds; no human or canine shapes in the darkened corners. If Bob had had X-ray vision, though, he would have seen Einstein and Bertrand crouched behind the counter that separated the kitchen and dining room. If he'd had better night vision, or time to let his eyes adjust to the deep shadows, he might have noticed the cocked balloon cannon sitting on the countertop, pointed straight at him. But with Charlie prodding from behind, he simply had to trust his cursory inspection and ignore his better judgment.

“Get in!” Charlie hissed. “What are ya waiting for?”

At that precise instant Einstein, who had been peeking out from the kitchen entrance, gave the signal and Bertrand launched the balloon bomb.

Phwap!

It connected like a power-punch, knocking Bob and Charlie out the patio door onto the deck. The shock of being walloped left them sitting there dazed. But through their stupor some new, unpleasant sensations began to register. First, the smell! They were overcome by the most god-awful stink, a reek fouler than skunk juice. That would have been bad enough, but even as they gagged, they became aware of an itchiness that burned like they were being swarmed by a million wasps.

“Argh!” The Gowler brothers rolled off the deck onto the grass, desperate to wipe off the raging hellfire. They clawed at themselves and yodeled pathetically; they cursed and ranted and slapped and scratched until the inflammation subsided a little. Then, frothing with fury, Charlie pulled a handgun from under his sweatshirt and brandished it in the air.

“I'll kill them!” he swore. “I'll kill 'em all!”

Fire!
Einstein shouted.

Phtoo! Phtoo! Phtoo!

Bertrand opened up from his position by the patio door, unleashing a stream of hardened paintballs.

Whap! Whap! Whap!

The plastic nuggets smacked into Charlie.

“Ow!” he roared.

When one of the balls beaned him on the forehead he flung the revolver aside and shielded his face with his hands.

Time for me to make my getaway!
Einstein signaled.

He darted out onto the patio, but instead of making a straight dash into the nearby stand of Ponderosa pines, Einstein stood his ground just outside the sliding door. He wanted to be sure the Gowler brothers had seen him. Besides, a paintball gun was no match for a 32-calibre pistol and Bob was already making for their weapon. Einstein had to be sure they wouldn't get a chance to take out their revenge on the Smiths.

Hold your fire!
Einstein ordered Bertrand.

“But . . . ”

Hold your fire!

For a second the scene froze. Bob stared at the cocky pooch, Charlie's gun hanging at his side.

Charlie, who'd taken the brunt of the paintball barrage, struggled to his feet. “Shoot him!” he screamed. “Shoot the stupid mongrel!”

Quaking, Bob raised the pistol, but before he could take aim Einstein made his move. Darting across the lawn, he latched on to the front of Charlie's sweatshirt. Charlie struggled to pull away, but the frenzied animal hung on tenaciously. Bob pointed the gun in Charlie's direction, but couldn't risk shooting.

Realizing he was on his own, Charlie raised his fist, aiming a skull-crushing blow at his attacker. Anticipating the haymaker, Einstein released the front of the sweatshirt and sprang back just in time to watch Charlie's fist whistle by and connect.

“Uh!” Charlie gasped, doubled over by the force of his own blow.

“Ow!” Bob winced in sympathy.

Before either could recover Einstein darted away between the trunks of the towering pines.

Off in the distance a siren wailed. Then another, and another. Professor Smith had been roused by the ruckus and called the cops.

“Damn!” Charlie groaned. “Get us out of here!”

Forgotten was the dog, the boy holed up in the house, even the inevitable rage of Frank Hindquist. The Gowler brothers retreated in disarray, scrambling back to the dock, tumbling into their boat, and roaring off into the night.

Hindquist strode through the AMOS plant. “Damn them!” he cursed.

He would have liked nothing better than to have the Gowler brothers marched outside and shot. Charge: inexcusable stupidity. Verdict: irredeemably guilty. How could they have botched the Einstein mission? How could they have been so soundly thrashed by a teenage boy and a dog — even a SMART dog? They were worse than useless.

Gritting his teeth, he barged through the passageway leading to the AMOS Canine Training Facility. One of the brothers would pay the price of incompetence, he vowed, and the example might make the other more diligent in future. The president of AMOS smiled grimly: he would get half his revenge that very day.

As for Einstein, he
would
be eliminated. The dog had outsmarted the Gowler brothers but was no match for Frank Hindquist. He rejected the very notion that Einstein might remain at large. “I'll get my hands on that mutt,” he snarled. “The
world
isn't big enough for him to hide in.”

Who could say what might happen if Einstein remained at large? He might find his way back to Bertrand and Professor Smith; they might decide to produce their own commercial breed of SMARTs, with Einstein as the original. Or some other breeder might get his hands on Einstein and go into competition with AMOS. Hindquist could not allow that.

“A shame really,” Hindquist shook his head. If they'd captured Einstein on the same night as the other pups, perhaps there would have been no need to destroy him. He might have turned out like Genie. But Bertrand and Professor Smith had ruined the animal. He could never be trusted, which left only one option: “Liquidation,” Hindquist muttered.

At the end of the long corridor he inserted his ID card into a slot then pushed open a metal clad door with DANGER: NO ENTRY stenciled on it in red letters.

If you didn't know better, you might have been fooled into thinking you'd stepped outside. The Canine Training Centre contained a forest environment, a tiny lake, a desert, and an urban combat zone. Daytime in this cavernous world was achieved by switching on the lights; night, by dimming them. Doctor Molar simulated climates by adjusting heaters, air conditioners, sprinklers, and dehumidifiers.

Genie had been trained to operate under almost any conditions in this movie-set world, and Hindquist was pleased with her progress;
very
pleased. They'd transformed her into a truly lethal weapon. Just one exercise remained to make her training complete: a very special test Hindquist looked forward to watching. After today she would be ready for her first real assignment: tracking down her own brother, Einstein.