KC Frantzen - May the K9 Spy 03 - May Leads the Way: Trouble Near Tofino (8 page)

Chapter 18

Y
ikes! Here comes Rukan. Back in the box!

Once inside, I stretch and bend trying to get comfortable. Difficult. This dratted dead-cow harness is so tight.

The plane shifts then I hear rustling as Rukan grumbles, “He was careless to leave the cargo door open. Interesting. What was he after? The dog’s collar remains, memory cards also. Even so, it was appropriate to dust them, to know if he tried to make a switch. Perhaps he
can
be trusted.”

I hear Rukan approach then feel his eyes on my back. Must breathe evenly, like I’m asleep.

He sneers, “You escaped before, but this time you will not.”

That’s what you think.

I force myself to look up into Rukan’s hated face and whimper. Must get him off guard, develop a plan. Agent X-Ray will help too. Maybe.

After Rukan’s satisfied grunt, I hear the cargo door lock, and a moment later the whine of engines. The computer voice says, “Hatch closing. 49°10’55”N, 125°59’10”W. Vargas Island confirmed.”

We’re leaving? Without–
BAM BAM BAM
– pounding on the hatch. It’s Agent X-Ray.

“Let me in. I’m to go with you.”

Rukan’s chuckle is menacing. “You have much to learn.”

Oh NO! Agent X-Ray left behind? I start to panic then a calm settles in my spirit. Okay, fine. Rukan against me… and my mosquito.

We lift off then turn again to the northwest.

What just happened? Rukan still has the memory cards and my collar. I’m certain he’s suspicious of Agent X-Ray. Is X-Ray part of the Cause? I don’t think so. He knows Agent Michael and seemed to help me too. Who is Agent X-Ray really? And Overlord? Is he the big fish Agent Michael is after? Could be. And what about those scruffy people with the Ground Zero van? They have the bogus files from Resolute Mountain. Maybe they were just a decoy.

Plans within plans.

Now, it’s me against Rukan. Last time, he wired me inside a crate at his house and threated to kill me. But that was the very day I got adopted. Rukan’s Woman had already been in contact with Dad and Mom and they showed up at just the right time. The Creator’s plan was already in the works and I didn’t even know it. Mustn’t lose hope. I’m still alive, there’s a plan for me. The Creator is always gracious.

I try to ignore the wisp of a thought there could be a plan for Rukan too.

Grrr.
I stamp my paw. But I don’t
want
grace for this evil human. I want
justice
for all he’s done to me, and to others. Horrible human being. Downright evil.

From old habit I start ripping hair from my leg, chewing on my thoughts and feelings.

After one particularly painful rip, I stop. My training kicks in. I breathe deeply to calm myself.

I can be emotional later. While Rukan’s busy flying the craft, I should reconnoiter. Must discover what’s going on, then work a strategy.

If I recall from map study, there isn’t much northwest of Washington State except ocean, stretching hundreds of miles. Unless… we are crossing the Pacific to Russia or beyond! The computer mentioned Vargas Island. Wonder where it is?

As quietly as possible, I tump the box and cross the shelf to look out of the window. There’s lots of activity below on some kind of military base, Navy I’d think, with all the ships.

We’re soaring over water and islands of many sizes, past shadowed mountain peaks sprinkled with white to the east. When I look down again, a group of dark creatures cruises through the ocean, and puffs of… smoke? How can there be fire in water? Must be something else.

It’s all so pretty but what if I’m saying goodbye to America and my family… Forever?

I struggle against tears as we start our descent. The computer says “Tofino” as we fly over a small town at land’s end, then beyond. Are we setting down in the ocean? I don’t really like to swim.

Shake it off, May! Must get a grip to survive.

We skim not far from the ocean’s surface, gliding in and out of thick fog. Occasionally I glimpse rocks below. At the coastline we veer north, then northwest again through a line of trees, the pathway nearly hidden. As our speed slows I can even see pine cones and squirrels, then we hover over a small pond and land.

Rukan clicks the radio. “I’m alone. I have a few things to make ready at base, then I will set up the signaling system.”

Overlord says, “Excellent. We shall discover the Major’s resourcefulness. The dog?”

“Against my better judgment it is with me.”

“I have my reasons for wanting her. See nothing happens.”
Click.

Oh joy. Is he worse than Rukan? Is that even possible? I’ll soon find out unless I escape. It won’t be easy since I’m still attached by harness and cable.

I hear Rukan rustling again then “Hatch opening.” The aircraft shifts as he exits and I see him walking on the water. Odd.

Scents, earthy and fresh, filter under the cargo door. Yet some aromas are very, very old. And such stories they’re telling… the amazing cycle of life, sportsmen slathered with fragrant sunscreen, and… odd… an ancient people living in a wild land…

Watching Rukan through the window, he seems tiny next to the massive trees. They’re taller than most buildings in Washington, DC, maybe half the Washington Monument, and almost as thick. And I thought the woods in Kentucky were dense. This is amazing, dark and misty.

Soon Rukan is out of sight. How long till he returns?

Night sounds surround me as the forest dwellers prepare then–
AAAaaaaoooOOOOOOOOoooooooo.
Hairs raise around my sore shoulders. A dog, definitely. But savage and untamed.

Time to act. I’ve got to notify HQ about the NAST cloaking device and the plot to capture the Trident. First, I must “extricate” myself, as Ms. Dutcher would say.

I gnaw on the steel cable again but no progress. Piffle. Can’t get my underbite around the harness.

Okay. I’ll exit the cargo area then use the radio to alert HQ, if the cable will allow. Then if there’s time to find the collar, I’ll grab my mosquito controller. Speaking of…

I stash the container, lid open, in case I locate the controller and need to deploy in a hurry.

Righty-o. There’s a safety latch on this side of the cargo door. I use a paw to twist and slide, then the door swings open into the cabin.

If I ever escape, must limp like on costume night during boot camp, when Shadow and I won second place. His idea of the hidden ace bandage around my hind leg was pure genius. We should have won first, but I wasn’t in character the entire time. Lesson learned.

When I jump into the pilot seat, I pull the cable taut. Drat. The radio is still about five paw-lengths away. General Jim’s story springs to mind as I spy a pencil in the console. Better be quick.

I maneuver it in my mouth and flip the switch “on.” The radio crackles.

Overlord! “Intelligent, innovative, ingenious. Agent May, again you prove your formidable talent. I know your worth. If you stay alive until Rukan brings you, a position waits beyond your most extreme imagination.”

I poke the switch to “off.”

As if I would become a mongrel traitor. Not
even.

Glad we were introduced to psy ops in boot camp. Can’t wait to continue that training. So much to learn, not enough time.

Speaking of… With Overlord overriding the system from afar, the radio is unusable to contact HQ. Maybe I’ll find something to cut this harness while I hunt for the collar. Whatever happens, I must reposition things before Rukan returns. He shouldn’t know I was here.

Oh no, my teeth marks indented the pencil. Can’t be helped. I nuzzle it nearly like I found it and step back.

Still looks wrong. Better take it with me.

I spy unusual knobs on the console. The NAST cloaking system controls? I’ll memorize the configuration for if, I mean,
when
I escape Rukan and Overlord.

Hey, check out that compartment – a titanium container! I wiggle my whole self.

Cautiously, I push a small lever and the top pops open. I detect a whiff of a strange but slightly familiar scent. What
is
that? I should remember.

Okay good. My collar is still here, but the memory cards aren’t. That part of the plan might still work. I remove the mosquito controller tool and try to slide it into my harness.

No room.
Sigh.
Thumbs would be so nice. Okay, I’ll carry it the old way, along with the pencil.

Caw caw squawk.
Birds sound an alert that a human approaches. Rukan? Wonder where he went and what he was doing?

I close the container lid – there’s that scent again – and slide it in place. I bolt and dive into the cardboard box just as the plane shifts. Yikes. Didn’t get the cargo door closed. Must lay on the pencil and controller to hide them.

Sniff.
That scent is on my paws. Oh no…

In History of Clandestine Services class, we studied how the enemy used a chemical, invisible without the proper detection equipment, to identify our operatives at the Moscow Embassy. Professor Mendez, legendary operative, explained how agents snuck into a highly-secured room and sprinkled “spy dust.” Then they tracked footprints on the street to discover which Embassy personnel had top secret clearance.

Rukan growls, “The cargo door’s open. Let me see…”

I hear rustling and a click.

“Dog prints. That idiot didn’t leave the case secured, but the collar is still there.”
Footsteps.
“Didn’t escape you filthy dog, eh? Your life is in my hands, but not for long. Bwaahahaha.”

Shudder.
His evil laugh never means anything good but my sniffer sniffs in spite of myself. Hummus and cucumbers with garlic and pita bread.

Hungry or not, it’s time to perform. Better make it convincing and remain in character, whatever happens.

When his foul face appears over the box, I whimper and set my ears back, showing the white edges around my eyes.

He’s changed into all black clothing. Interesting.

After he grumbles, I feel a tug on my harness. Is the cable unfastened? He scoops up my box and I struggle to maintain my balance.

I think we’re leaving the aircraft. Now or never.

I snatch the controller and deploy my mosquito. I hope.

But did I set it to track him or me?

Chapter 19

I
put my eye to the small hole in the box corner as we descend the stairs and walk on water. The computer says, “Hatch closing.”

Fish swim and plants sway beneath us, but no sounds or ripples. We’re on some type of clear cover. From the air, this would seem like ordinary water. HQ will definitely want to know, if they don’t already.

It’s hard not having top secret clearance. I don’t know what others are familiar with and what they aren’t. But I’ll get there. I want to be the best K9 Spy in the Service! Which means… Focus on the situation at paw.

The outline of the aircraft is barely visible, and not just because it’s almost dark. It reflects the surroundings, like I can almost see through the plane. This NAST cloaking device is something. I hope my mosquito is picking this up.

Once on land, Rukan turns west, then a little southwest, keeping close to the forest. Where are we going?

Since my peep hole faces behind, I memorize how Rukan’s footprints appear in the sand. His tracks are deeper and listing to the right more than if he traveled alone.

He turns into the woods and soon I hear the roar of crashing waves. Birds. Otters. Seals. The faintest high-pitched echoes from the water. Eerie.

We come out onto another beach, scented with salty sea plants and fresh fish. The moon is rising. Under different circumstances there would be so much to explore!

Rukan steps over lots of logs, still keeping near the tree line. I notice some wreckage from… Japan? Yep. Those are Japanese characters on that sphere. Definitely. I remember hearing about the awful storm they had. “Sue-Mommy” or something.

Soon we’re on sand and rocks. Oh no–

The cardboard box gives way and the pencil and controller drop as I try to scratch a hold.

Hey, let go!

I’m in mid-air… then roll between some rocks. My cardboard prison settles, then blows away with a sharp gust. Just as I get my footing, his boot stomps the cable.

Rukan’s eyes flash in the moonlight as he grabs the cable and jerks me towards the waves. I maintain character and appear afraid – not so difficult. I don’t think he saw the controller and pencil.

Must get my bearings. I notice distant lights to the east. Maybe from Tofino, that small town we passed?

He pulls me through icy waves and drags me onto some slippery black rocks. Then, he stops. Waiting for something? But what?

I scramble for a paw hold.

There’s something motorized, not far away. A red light blinks several times out in the ocean, then peculiar clicking sounds come in pulses, with symmetry like language.

Out of the waves jump three large sleek creatures, grey with white sides, nearly as I can tell in this light. I’ve never seen anything like them. One of them bumps a yellow oblong object. A floating version of my tennis ball?

Waves knock me off the rocks again and again. Each time I regain my footing, I shake off the frigid seawater. Wish I could escape, but the cable has me tethered.

Trash floats by on the surface: plastic bottles caught in drifting plants, boards, glass balls with netting… Odd to have so much litter in the ocean.

After a short series of beeps, Rukan opens a comm unit just as something huge rises from the water. The jumping creatures click again and speed towards the huge black machine. I think it’s a submarine!

Rukan offers a greeting into his comm, then asks, “They suspect nothing?” It isn’t English, but I understand perfectly, just like I do other human languages, most critters too.

A woman responds in the same language, with a slightly different accent and tone. “After analysis, Signals Intelligence noticed no significant change of electronic communication. Good work, Rukan.”

Wow, she used his real name.

She says, “We sent the dolphins.”

So,
those
are dolphins. Are they working with the submarine? And Rukan?

He replies, “Indeed.”

“As you know, the deception plan is working. Our cover story of the dolphins’ escape from our military training program made international news. Then we floated a correction saying a librarian seeking attention posted the entire story as a hoax.”

Rukan sneers. “The media is so easily manipulated. As I can see, the dolphins are real.”

“We feed news we want reported, they comply.”

“Indeed.”

I hear laughter in the background and the tension is broken. A man says, “Excellent. It is you, comrade.”

“Indeed,” says Rukan with a snort.

That conversation must have been code ID. Maybe I’ll hear classified information to report during debrief at HQ, after my escape.

I scramble onto the rock between Rukan’s feet. He doesn’t seem to notice because the comm starts again.

“Program update. The NAST device has been perfected for land bound personnel and vehicles, but not proven for undersea operations. Until now. Our dolphin team has been training in the Sea of Okhotsk to tag the Ohio class submarine. Now they are here, near the Strait of Juan de Fuca, ready to deploy.

“Of the ten nuclear submarines based at Naval Base Kitsap, the next scheduled for patrol is the USS Tennessee. When she makes way, the team will alert us.

“Once we capture the boat, we will usher in a new standard and will again be preeminent in the world. Our Admirals and Generals in the secret services are still stinging after the despicable plan the Americans labeled Operation Ivy Bells.”

“Indeed.”

“This is apt retaliation, appropriating a Trident submarine,
da
? Americans are familiar with dolphins playing in the surf, riding the bow of their craft. They will think nothing of our cetacean operatives in the vicinity. We have highly trained three to better elude capture. One or more will succeed. They are altered to perform without question.”

Rukan pumps a fist. “To the Cause!”

Shudder,
and not just because I’m cold, wet and tired.

“To the Cause! The useful idiots are in play?”

Rukan grunts. “The files were delivered to them in Kitsap only hours ago.”

“They will provide excellent cover while acting on that information. Inform the Major his commander wants him straightaway in Magadan.”

“I left him with the pawns.”

The radio voice speaks again. “There is trouble in his home port, along with communications.”

“Similar to the impending trouble near Tofino?”

They all laugh again, then my enemy says, “You will get word through secure channels?”

“We will make it so, Rukan. It is an exhilarating era. During the Nanaimo Flying Club outing last weekend, we stayed undetected in shallower waters. Now we shall return to the deep until the dolphins signal that the American submarine is disabled. Then we shall strike.

“There is no indication of anyone in the area except kayakers. This will be our last contact until this phase of the mission is complete. Go to base and wait for further instruction.”

Rukan’s eyes glitter in the light of the crescent moon. “To the Cause.”

“We will report our meeting to Noble Leader, so you maintain radio silence. To the Cause.”

The comm unit clicks off.

Interesting. Overlord, Rukan’s Noble Leader, talked to me directly. Maybe that channel is one even Rukan doesn’t know about. Idea! Maybe Overlord is monitoring Rukan. But why?

Suspicious types these Cause people, but then again, so are we in the K9 Spy Service. It’s called survival.

And I must survive to get this information to HQ, then reunite with my family. At least I
hope
to be with them again.

Rukan stands, gazing out to sea. “My work for the Cause is almost complete and I will depart this horrible continent. Overlord will reward my loyalty with plenty of luxury… big house, fast car, space for my son… life I have dreamed.”

A large wave splashes, knocking me into his leg. As I cling to the rock, he glares.

“Now to be rid of this disgusting dog.”

I sink into my sore shoulders. Or try to. This blasted dead-cow harness is so uncomfortable.

Rukan drags me through the surf, then winds the cable around storm debris, wedged between rocks nearby. He gives me a vile look, then strides to the beach and beyond.

Tremble.

All is quiet, except for the water lapping at my paws. I’ll have a terrific climbing story to share, like April.

If I make it.