After it became stingingly evident that the bee repellent had about the same shelf life as a reality TV marriage, Dr. Wells’s recommended that they move the demagnetization procedure back inside the bunker. Bruce and Kip endured a couple of random beestings, while Wint swatted at a few additional Kamikaz-bees hovering around his head. They didn’t require much more coaxing before following Bella’s instructions.
Mark and Bruce were in line for microchip extraction, and Bella left it up to them to decide on who wanted to go under the gun first. Mark didn’t have any qualms about volunteering, although it was Bruce who had the more immediate need to get de-chipped.
“Is it gonna hurt, Doc?” Bruce asked Bella.
“Not as much as dying in a puddle of your own spittle,” Mark interjected.
“Thanks for your upbeat commentary,” Bruce grumbled.
“Look, it doesn’t matter who goes first. It only takes a few seconds.” Bella held up the demagnetizer and made a minor adjustment with one of its dials. “You’ll just feel a little prick,” she smirked.
“In that case, let Mark go first,” Bruce suggested. “I’m sure he’s a lot keener than me about feeling little pricks.”
“Ha, ha,” Mark said. “You know, Bruce, I’m almost going to miss all your wittiness after you lose your chip--almost.” Mark then stepped forward and stuck out his hand in front of Dr. Wells. She looked at him with a certain tenderness that neither Bruce nor Kip perceived until now.
“You ready?” she whispered to Mark.
“Always,” Mark said to her with a wink.
Dr. Wells smiled suggested that this wasn’t the first time he flirted with her, and she hoped not the last either. In another instant, she placed the demagnetizer over Mark’s superficial wound and pulled the mechanism’s trigger. The device clicked like a staple gun and flashed red over Mark’s skin. He barely winced.
“That should do it,” Bella confirmed. Before she lowered the demagnetizer, Mark wrapped his arms around her and they kissed passionately. Bruce and Kip stood by in silent awe, oozing enough egg from their faces to cook an omelet. In Bruce’s mind, the kiss seemed to last entirely too long.
“Easy on the PDA,” Bruce advised. “I haven’t seen two people suck face like that since Bergman and Grant.”
“It is rather notorious,” Kip objected.
“At least it proves I was right about one thing. Doc really goes gaga for fly-guys. I guess he wasn’t your wingman after all, Kip.”
“Lesson learned,” Kip sighed.
Mark eventually unknotted tongues with Bella. She hadn’t forgotten that Bruce still required a demagnetization procedure of his own. With less than ten minutes to spare before meltdown, Bruce knew that he had no alternative.
“Any time you’re ready,” Bella said to Bruce as she knelt on the ground.
“C’mon, Bruce,” Mark commanded. “You’re up. Time to get de-chipped.”
The beagle glanced at Mark tentatively, before nudging Kip’s hand with his cold nose. “I’d lick your fingers right now,” Bruce told him, “but I’m feeling a tad parched.”
“I understand,” Kip said. “But don’t be nervous. You’re gonna be fine.”
“That’s what scares me,” Bruce said. “I guess I just don’t know if I like the idea of turning back into what I was before I got Mac-Chipped.”
“You mean a regular dog?”
“Nah, I mean a constipated one,” Bruce grimaced. “Of course that’s what I mean. A dog can grow fond of using his tongue for more than lapping water and licking tail.”
“As strange as this may sound,” Kip admitted, “I’m gonna miss talking to you. I guess it’s kinda sad to say goodbye, huh?”
“Not as sad as when Bambi’s mother turned hoofs up, but I feel ya.”
“You always know the right things to say, Bruce. Do you got any other parting words of wisdom?”
“Maybe a few. Here’s something juicy to chew on: just because you live a pedestrian life, Kip, doesn’t mean ya gotta like it when people walk all over you.”
“Wow,” Kip commented, “that’s a pretty profound statement coming from you. And it also might be the wisest piece of advice anyone has ever given me.”
“Well, don’t get your shorts all sticky over it. When it comes right down to it, I’m still just a miscreant with a collar and empty nut sack.”
“At least you recognize your shortcomings.”
“I’d rather have long comings.”
On that note, Bruce pranced toward Bella. She greeted him sedately by petting his head, before tracing her fingers on the back of the dog’s neck to find his implantation wound. “This won’t take longer than thirty seconds,” she promised him.
“I once said the same thing to a Cockapoo with a short attention span,” Bruce said with a wink.
“I’m sure she was impressed,” Bella grinned. She positioned the demagnetizer behind Bruce’s head and adjusted its nozzle so that it snuggly enveloped the targeted area on his neck. “I can’t say that our time together hasn’t been interesting,” she told him. “Do you have anything else you want to share before we proceed?”
“I was thinking a little twerking might be in order,” Bruce recommended.
“You’ll never change, Bruce,” Bella giggled.
“What can I say? I’m bad to the bone. Beagles don’t change. We’re like photographs. Over time, we may get a bit ragged and yellow around the edges, but we stay the same in substance until the scrapbook closes.”
“I know many people like that, too,” Bella said.
“Too bad you couldn’t see me as part of the big picture, Doc. I guess it’s easier to take selfies in the sun.”
“Don’t start with the sob stories, Bruce,” Mark interjected. “You know you’ll always be like family to us.”
“If this is family, why do I suddenly feel like Fredo in a canoe?”
Bruce nodded and by now both of them knew that it was time to put an end to the cordial banter. Mark and Kip looked on stoically as Bella made a final adjustment with the demagnetizer.
“I don’t know how we’ll ever repay you, Kip,” Mark said. “Bruce owes you his life, and so do I.”
Kip continued to watch Bella as she squeezed the device’s trigger and zapped the chip in the beagle’s neck. The dog pulled back and jittered a few times, then released a bark that sounded like any other dog in a pack.
“It’s done,” Bella announced. “The chip is deactivated.”
Bruce jumped up on Bella’s lap and tried to lick her face. She scratched him behind his ears and fetched a doggie treat from her lab coat’s pocket. Kip called the beagle toward him, and the dog trotted over to his side. Bruce acted as any other animal might’ve done when greeting someone for the first time. He sniffed Kip’s legs and then his hands.
“Do you think he remembers anything?” Kip asked Mark.
“No one can really answer that accurately,” Mark replied. “It’s good to see that he’s acting like a dog again though.”
“I suppose. What are you gonna do with him now?”
“Well, he’s my dog,” Mark said. “So I’ll just keep him as a pet just like most people do.”
“Yeah, of course,” Kip said. A trace of disappointment altered his voice. Maybe he didn’t even realize how attached he’d grown to the beagle in such a short time. “It looks like you got the girl and the dog, Mark. Not exactly a classic Hollywood ending, is it?”
“I’ll let you know when we get to the end.”
At this point, Wint stepped forward and removed his derby. Bella directed him to the computer, where he then scooped his hand inside the hat and removed a hidden disc. “I hope we haven’t forgotten the most important part,” he said.
“Molek didn’t even think to check the inside of your derby,” Bella observed. “That’s the first place I would’ve looked.”
“Ah, you know what they say, hat-sight is twenty-twenty,” Wint grinned.
“Everybody’s a budding comedian nowadays,” Bell
a said despondently.
Wint continued to do what did best, which had nothing to do with headlining a comedy routine. He logged onto the computer and loaded the disc. Although he never billed himself as an entertainer, in this case he generated the rapt interest of everyone in the bunker.
“I’ve been dying to see what’s on this disc,” Mark said.
“Soon everyone will know,” Wint affirmed.
Kip remained engrossed as the computer’s program uploaded the DVD’s data. The screen flashed green and a single message scrolled repeatedly across the monitor, methodically at first, but then in faster sequence. Strangely, it was a phrase Kip had previewed before. He read the enigmatic words aloud: “BE I ALONE TO SAVE HIM.”
“What does that mean?” Kip asked Wint eagerly.
“It’s in secret code,” Wint explained. “I’m hoping people will take the time to decipher it.”
“Can you decode it, Wint?” Kip asked.
“I could,” Wint declared, “but I won’t.”
“Why not?” Kip and Bella exclaimed simultaneously.
“Because in order to truly comprehend the message, you must translate it for yourself.”
“That seems counterproductive,” Kip argued. “Some people aren’t very skilled at solving word puzzles.”
“Most people just don’t try hard enough,” Mark said.
“They look without seeing,” Wint added.
Kip wasn’t prepared to admit that he had already tried and failed to interpret the anagram earlier. Bella sided with Kip on this issue, but Wint refused to elaborate on any specific details. “It’s in the people’s hands now,” he said. “If enough of them care to interpret things as they really are, maybe we can stop them from controlling us.”
“Them?” Kip asked. “Exactly whom are you talking about?”
Wint walked away from the computer, leaving Kip’s inquiry unanswered. Mark then called Kip to the side and suggested they converse privately. He escorted Kip outside the bunker, while Bella, Bruce, and Wint waited inside. At least the bees had retreated to their respective hives.
“I wish I had more to offer you than my gratitude, Kip,” Mark said. “But there comes a time when gaining too much information will put you at risk.”
“But it’s over now, isn’t it?”
“Over? It’s not even halftime. We just stopped the clock for a short interval, that’s all.”
“What else can I do to help?”
“Did you ever hear the expression ‘if I tell you anything more I’ll have to kill you’?”
“Yeah. Who hasn’t?”
“Well, it’s not just an overused idiom in my line of work.”
Mark peered at Kip solemnly, but he wasn’t one to mince his words to help Kip swallow the truth more easily. “The only thing you can do now to help us is return to your routine life. For your own safety and ours, you’ll just have to pretend that none of this ever happened.”
“That’s impossible,” Kip said. “How can you expect me to go back to selling furniture at Bed Mania after everything I’ve been through? I thought I was one of you guys now.”
“You mean a spy?” Mark chuckled.
“Well, yeah. I mean, if it’s good enough for you and Bruce, why not me?”
“Kip, we don’t offer an on-the-job training program for secret agents. Besides, the agency I previously belonged to wants me dead now. I don’t think you want to walk around the rest of your life looking over your shoulder. As it is, I put you in a precarious situation. You don’t have prove yourself any longer.”
“But I want to prove myself. I’m tired of being a schmuck.”
“You’re a gallant man,” Mark insisted, “but I’m afraid my decision isn’t negotiable. I’ll make you this one promise though. If we ever require your services again, I’ll be sure to look you up.”
What else could Kip say or do? The decision was already made for him. Some adventures end as rapidly and unexpectedly as they started, and this represented one of those occasions.
“What will you and Bruce do next?” Kip asked.
Mark didn’t really have an answer, and even if he gave Kip one, it might’ve changed before the next morning. “Do remember when Alan Ladd rode off into the sunset at the end of Shane?”
“Sure,” Kip said. “That’s one of my favorite moments in all of filmmaking.”
“Mine, too,” Mark replied. “Let’s not try to top it.”
Chapter 35
Mark, There's a Beagle in My Bedroom! Page 34