KC Frantzen - May the K9 Spy 03 - May Leads the Way: Trouble Near Tofino (5 page)

Chapter 11

W
e touch down near the main gate in Oak Ridge, Tennessee. Things seem more intense here than at HQ in northern Virginia. Security seems tighter. Frenzied activity, with humans and vehicles going every which way. But, interesting. They have power.

At the checkpoint, a guard views my credentials and passes me through. There’s Edgrr near the fence, along with his handler, Ms. Schwind. Hope I make a snappy-enough salute.

After she returns it, I dash to her feet, yipping, “Ms. Schwind, did you hear? I graduated as the first Mini-Schnauzer ever, and with honors! Thank you!”

She grins. “Greetings
Agent
May. As I expected. Welcome to provisional headquarters. Here you will pose as a companion dog, your true identity on a need-to-know basis. Edgrr will show you to General Jim’s temporary office. He’s expecting you.”

“About my family…”

“Talk with General Jim.” She hands me a Barker Bar. “Here’s a snack until chow.”

Okay Ma’am. I will.
I’m honored she made time to personally greet me and think about my needs. I’m glad she is guiding my career.
Thlpbt
.

“You’re welcome.”

After I say goodbye to Ms. Schwind and scarf down my snack, Edgrr escorts me through the network of temporary shelters to General Jim’s office. “When you finish, find me in the canteen.”

“Yes Sir.”

How will all this go?

When I open the door, the attaché looks up from his desk. I recognize that face!

After we exchange salutes, the Colonel chuckles. “Agent May, congratulations on your first official assignment,
oui?
”

Blush.
He knows about my unauthorized venture to Paris. Could I help being dognapped? At least I helped stop Rukan’s plot, that time.

“That was a creative use of bees. Good work. May I say how relieved we were to hear you and your family survived the blast.”

I stumble. Agent Doherty didn’t survive. My family is still trapped. Others are suffering.

When the Colonel sees my tear-filled eyes, he softly says, “The General will return presently.”

I simply nod and follow the Colonel inside a cramped office. He indicates a metal chair for me and closes the door.

It doesn’t appear the General brought his personal belongings, unless they’re stashed in the orderly platoon of boxes along the walls. Hey, there are several red-striped top secret folders on his desk, along with my own file. Wonder what’s in it? Maybe if I lean in I could glimpse–

Footsteps.

Yikes! I stand on the chair at the ready, and salute.

General Jim bursts in, like a man with a lot on his mind. He returns my salute on the way to his desk. “Be seated.”

Using correct protocol, I wait to sit until he does.

The General briefs me with the same information Agent Bart shared. “Questions?”

I appreciate the fact that he speaks critter.
Sir, about my family…

“Resources are tight. We’ve not forgotten them.”

But Sir…

He gives me a look.

I sit quietly for a moment.
And Miss Sandy and Sassy?

He smiles, more relaxed. “I’m glad you are thinking of others, an excellent leadership quality. Sassy remains critical. If she is able to work, we will find her a position at HQ.”

Sassy retire from the field?
Oh no.

General Jim looks thoughtful as he jots notes in my file with a yellow pencil. Not looking up he says, “Moreover, as you know, Agent Sandy’s identity has been compromised.”

Whimper.
Because of Paris. I didn’t trust them. Now Sassy fights for her life. Miss Sandy’s undercover work, years of it… useless.

Noticing my drooped head, General Jim takes a long breath. “Once, a promising young officer botched an assignment, with severe unintended consequences for others.”

Where’s a place to slink away?

“Focus, Agent.”

I watch from under my eyebrows as the General leans closer. “This was shared with me, now I’m sharing it with you.”

A pencil?

He smiles and holds it vertically, point down on the desk, with only one finger holding the eraser end. “This represents your life, lived in your own strength. What happens when outside pressure is applied? Alright help me, Agent. Apply outside pressure and try to knock it away.”

Sir?

“That’s an order.”

I cautiously sweep the pencil with my paw, barely making contact. It skitters across the metal desk.

After the General retrieves it, he wraps his fingers tightly around. “My hand represents God, holding your life in His firm grip. Try again.”

I swipe several times, but the pencil in his hand doesn’t budge.

“You fail when you try to live on your own. Remember, let God hold the pencil.”

Yes Sir.
Not what I was expecting from a General, for sure.

He opens my folder and flips through several papers. “Are you ready for your first
authorized
full mission?

I sit a little straighter. April would be proud. I woof, “Yes Sir.”

“Normally we would not place new agents on missions this intensive, but these are special circumstances. You’ll be briefed by your Team Leader. He will make contact shortly. That is all. Dismissed.”

Chapter 12

A
few minutes later, Edgrr waves for me to join him in the chow line. “Order, then choose where you’d like us to sit.”

I request the kibble with gravy and veggies and make for a table near the side wall, scanning the room after we take our seats. Like Ms. Dutcher taught us, “Everyone has a story. If you know what to look for, you will refine your behavior observation skills. In a dining situation, observe where subjects sit and with whom, how they carry themselves, topics of conversation, what they choose to eat, how they hold utensils if used…”

I nibble some broccoli.

Take the man who just got in line. Seems an expert at blending in. Medium height, vigorous. Clean cut, no visible distinguishing marks except for a slight scar below his left cheek. He’s respectful to the employee as he picks up his fish and chips to go.

We make eye contact – oh no! I shiver down to my toenails. He knows who I am.

He moves effortlessly through the crowded room, alert, at the ready.

When the man approaches our table, Edgrr woofs, “To go, as usual?”

I whisper, “You
know
him? Seems like the kind of guy you’d want on your side, if he’s good.”

“He is.”

The man smiles easily and speaks with an undertone. German? “To go, as usual. Edgrr, you know me well. I prefer to eat alone. Still I can relax too, with other good guys.” He winks.

Yikes. Note to self: Assume humans understand critter until proven otherwise.

His deep dark eyes focus on me. “I wish to speak with you outside.”

Gulp.
He’s my Team Leader!
Yes uh… excuse me, Edgrr.
I wipe my whiskers and follow, but when I exit, the man is nowhere to be seen. I sniff for tracks and take off at a run.

There he is, striding for a “U-Stash-It” box van. I sprint to catch up.

Another man, dressed all in black, starts the motor as I leap in and we take off. Soon we leave the guard gates behind and turn north.

The man I followed says, “You will know me as Agent Michael, on loan from The Caesarea Department of the Mossad.” He takes a bite of fries, then hands me some.

Mossad. Israeli intelligence force. The Caesarea Department must be either Surveillance & Observation or Strike Force. He doesn’t seem like an Information Analyst.

After a swallow of water, he grins. “Great job in Paris.”

Really?

“With your daring, wits and finesse, and enjoyment of foreign travel, you would make an excellent Mossad agent.”

Oh no Sir. I couldn’t change allegiance.

“Pity. I will enjoy working together on this project. For you there is a special incentive.”

Special incentive? Exciting, and with a Mossad agent. Legendary! I start to speak then remember to apply what Sassy said. “One does not learn while talking.”

“First, our team will stop at a known hangout for sleeper cell personnel. As you are aware, groups stay dormant until orders are received or members know to act per a predetermined event, like the recent Electro Magnetic Pulse blast. We have had these specific suspects under standard surveillance. That’s about to change. It’s quite the… You will understand this… Quite the game of cat and mouse.”

In Paris, I never saw my feral cat friend, Léonce, with a mouse. Before killing moles and pigeons he seemed to play a deadly game, if you can call it that. And I still prefer my food cooked, thank you.

“In keeping with this method, we will ensure they notice you. We’ll let it slip why we are in town.”

I woof, “Why
will
we be in town, Sir?”

“Agent May, you and Rukan have a history, correct?”

Shudder.
I growl, “Sir, that’s an understatement.”

His lips curve slightly at the corners, like Dad when he’s up to something.

“On this mission, your code name is… ‘Mullet.’”

I cock my head.
May Mullet? Mom calls me May Muffin sometimes.

Agent Michael’s smile widens. “We’re going fishing.”

Mmmmm. Dad says there’s nothing like fresh fish. Wait this is a hint, but I still don’t understand.
Sir, what does fishing have to do with Rukan?

“Small mullet are fish used as bait and on this mission, you are part of our bait.”

I give him a look, then watch out the window as city streets shift to countryside.

Part of my K9 Spy oath states, “If I must die, let me die well.” Did I mean it? Smokey, one of the boot camp instructors told us, “Fear knocked. Faith answered. No one was there.”

Softly I woof, “Doesn’t bait always die?”

Agent Michael replies, “To paraphrase your General Patton, ‘The object of war is not to die for your country but to make the other guy die for his.’ Not to worry. We will be near. We’ll leak disinformation about moving invaluable highly-classified materials to a secured location, adding a barb about how you’re still alive, in spite of his efforts. This should prove irresistible. Rukan will come himself.”

I watch black cattle grazing in the fields as we drive by. Maybe I’m supposed to feel better, but I don’t. I want to catch Rukan and put him away, where he can’t cause more chaos and it’s finally happening.

But I’ll have to work on the “not to worry” part.

I glance at Agent Michael, studying a list with highlights and checkmarks.

He looks at me, all business. “Now let’s go over a few matters. You’re microchipped?”

No Sir.

“Good. Too risky on several levels – health issues, compromising a mission, enemy tracking, etc. Your hypoglycemia is controlled?”

After strength training and change in diet, no further issues.

“Excellent.” He makes notations, and then stores everything away. “Agent May, ready for your first
official
mission?”

Blush.
I salute and woof, “Yes Sir.”

“Should this go well, your Headquarters will take note. The marks against you from Paris will be offset.”

So that’s what General Jim was reviewing in my file.
Sigh.

He gives me a rascally smirk. “But know this. Your actions showed initiative. In fact, we are teamed together precisely because I prefer a more, shall we say, unconventional mode. Now let’s synchronize your collar frequency to the system.”

He pulls a credit card device from his pack and taps some virtual keys. My collar vibrates in three short bursts. Then he opens a tiny woven stainless case and a mosquito takes off, hovers and lands on my back, near my shoulders. I hardly feel it. Still, my skin quivers at the neck.

How did he train a mosquito? Hey, is that a mechanized sound? Wonder of wonders, it’s a drone!

It zooms past my ear, circles then releases a teensy red tube into Agent Michael’s hand before landing on the seat between us. I resist the urge to swat.

He inserts the tube into a device.
BEEEEEP.
“Did you feel anything?”

Not much, Sir.

“Excellent. This nano-drone took a sample of your blood for DNA synchronization while also saving your heat signature. Your information is already relayed to HQ.”

What terrific engineering.

Agent Michael inserts another tube into the drone then leans to attach a device to my collar. “Use this special tool to activate. Deploy the drone if you sense lethal danger or are captured. It should be unnoticeable upon release and its signal will give us time to locate you or send help. As you know, we prepare for the worst scenario.”

Plan B. Yes Sir.

“Agent May, record your emergency command.”

My very own drone, if I don’t forget and smoosh it! I woof into the microphone and a light activates on the mosquito.

Seeing my appreciation, Agent Michael says, “Tiny but tough. Like you. It’s what makes you good weapons. Alright. It’s synchronized, ready to deploy. May you never need it for emergency.”

I tuck it carefully in my collar pouch and double check everything.

Agent Michael pats my back. “You’re set, Mullet. We have several hours. Get some rest.”

When the van stops, I wake from dreaming of Joshua’s Pet Treat Bakery. There’s a sign: “Welcome to Maysville, City of Opportunity.”

Wonder of wonders, Sir. My own city, with opportunity!

Agent Michael chuckles. “Thought you would enjoy the irony. Let’s stretch our legs a moment.”

We all get out and he continues.

“Truth be told, there’s a history of clandestine activity in this area. James Andrews, mastermind of the Great Locomotive Chase–”

I stand, excited.
We watched a program on the Antiquity Channel–

He gives me a look.

I interrupted. Sorry, Sir.
Will I ever learn?

“We absorb valuable lessons from history. To continue… though his mission failed, Andrews led his Raiders to glory as the first recipients of your country’s highest award.”

The Medal of Honor… Awarded to Andrews’ Raiders…
I wag my nub of a tail.
Maybe someday there will be an award for May’s Marauders.

He gives me another look. “You mean Mullet’s Marauders…” He slaps his knee with a hearty laugh. “Around the time the US Constitution was adopted, Maysville was founded along the Ohio River. Later in this area, many were helped to freedom on the Underground Railroad.”

“Underground?”

“It got its name because railway terms were used as code and, this gets to my point, activities were underground, secretive, using deception and disguise like we do.”

Like Sassy says, “All is not as it seems.”

As we drive down a wide street with nice buildings on either side, I yip, “Sir, it’s odd. Some places have lights, surprising after the EMP.”

“Because of the river, Mullet. They’re not hampered by the power outage. Like in the olden days, rivers were used for power, transportation, supply…”

I never realized how important rivers could be.

“The sleeper cell was resupplied by river transport two nights ago. We will stay in Maysville long enough to spread disinformation and draw Rukan here – we think from somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. You will play a vital role in the takedown.”

Exciting, but dangerous, especially with Rukan involved. Like April reminded me with her squirrel story, “Never underestimate your prey.”

Excuse me Agent Michael, what’s our cover?

He grins. “Now you’re thinking like an agent. Specifically, you are a new CWD, Contract Working Dog, checking infrastructure in the Ohio Valley after the EMP blast. We’ll make sure the sleeper cell members are suspicious enough to report our movements.”

We turn in at The Country Cooker Restaurant along with a pickup, and park near some old clunkers in the nearly empty lot. Agent Michael introduces me to the others. “You’ll meet the rest of the team later. Who’s ready for some chow?”

In Paris, and even some places in Washington, DC, dogs may dine with owners, but Kentucky? Guess we’ll find out.