by Andrew Cope
Ben peered round the wing and lay flat. He pointed in the direction of Mr Big to alert the pups. Then he reached for the aeroplane door and yanked it open. The puppies jumped aboard.
Professor Cortex watched in horror as the most evil criminal in the world strode straight towards Ben’s hiding place. A distraction, he thought. What can I do?
‘Over here,’ yelled the professor. ‘I say, is that you, Mr Big?’ he shouted, frantically waving his arms to attract the man’s attention.
Mr Big saw the professor and cursed. ‘Not you again, old man,’ he shouted, scanning the airfield, relieved to see there were no police cars. ‘Well, you’re too late this time,’ he said, breaking into a sprint towards the plane. ‘Me and the antidote are up, up and away.’
‘We’ll catch you, you cold calculating evil criminal,’ yelled the professor, pink with rage and shaking with fear.
‘This is no time for compliments,’ yelled Mr Big as he reached the aircraft and hauled the door open.
The professor watched with bated breath as the baddie swung himself into the pilot’s seat and the engine spluttered into action. The propellers whirred and the plane taxied towards the runway.
‘Phew,’ breathed the professor, waiting to see Ben spring up from his hiding place. He scanned with the binoculars once more. ‘Where are you, Benjamin?’ he muttered.
The plane picked up speed and soon Mr Big was away. He arced the plane towards Professor Cortex and saluted as he flew over the old man. All the professor could do was stare in shock as he saw Ben’s frightened face peering out from the back window.
19. Mayday
Ben lay on the back seat of the small aircraft, hidden beneath a blanket. The puppies were hiding underneath the passenger seat.
‘Bye-bye, old fella,’ they heard Mr Big say as he waved to Professor Cortex. ‘I’ll send you a postcard from Brazil!’
Ben felt the plane gathering height before it levelled off. The twin engines droned as Mr Big set his course. After a few minutes Ben was brave enough to poke his face out from underneath the blanket. He could see Star wagging excitedly. He followed her jabbing paw and Ben could see a small bottle of purple liquid poking out of Mr Big’s jacket pocket.
The antidote, he realized. After five, he signalled to Star, holding his fingers up and counting down. 5… 4… 3… 2… 1 ‘Go!’ yelled Ben, startling Mr Big as he jumped up from the back seat.
Star snapped at his coat and the bottle fell out. Mr Big leapt from the pilot’s seat, knocking the controls and throwing the plane into a nosedive. The criminal and Ben tangled in a heap as the engines whined and the plane twirled dangerously.
‘Got it,’ woofed Spud out of the side of his mouth, emerging from the chaos with the bottle clenched in his teeth. ‘I’ve got the antidote!’
Mr Big leapt at the puppy and snatched the bottle from his jaws. ‘I’ll take that back,’ he sneered.
Star was sitting in the pilot’s seat trying to steady the plane. She hit the controls with her paw and the aeroplane dived to the left. Everyone fell around the cabin and Mr Big’s arm smashed against the window. Star sank her razor-sharp teeth into his arm. Mr Big yelled in pain and dropped the antidote. The bottle rolled under a seat and Ben grabbed it.
‘Advantage puppies,’ Spud woofed, out of kicking distance.
The criminal flared his nostrils. Star sat close by in the pilot’s seat, baring her teeth and doing her nastiest growl. ‘Tangle with me and you’ll have more teeth marks in your bum,’ she snarled.
Mr Big took a few deep breaths to calm down and think things through. This wasn’t part of his escape plan. He lumbered back into the cabin, kicking Star out of the way. Mr Big sat in the pilot’s seat and steadied the plane. ‘Who cares,’ he cursed, checking his watch. ‘Your mum is probably dead anyway. “Spy Dog” they call her. I think we can now rename her “Dead Dog”.’ Mr Big laughed heartily until Star sank her teeth into his ankle. ‘Get off me, mutt,’ he yelled, kicking out at the puppy and sending her flying across the cabin again. ‘You can keep the antidote,’ he yelled. ‘It’ll be no use to you anyway. It doesn’t work on dead dogs.’
Mr Big pressed the autopilot button and rose from his seat. He tugged at the bag leaning against the side of the plane and struggled to get it on to his back. ‘Only one parachute,’ he smiled. ‘And it’s mine.’ Mr Big grinned as he pressed a button marked FD.
Ben was clutching the antidote tightly, ready to throw it to one of the puppies if Mr Big came at him. He didn’t. The boy watched in open-mouthed horror as the criminal hauled open the aeroplane door. He checked the parachute was secure and waved to the passengers.
‘I’m jumping for joy,’ he yelled as he leapt from the aeroplane. ‘Byeeeee,’ they heard as his voice trailed in the wind.
Ben ran to the pilot’s seat and looked at the controls. ‘What was that button he pressed?’ he asked, frantically searching the dashboard.
‘Here it is,’ wagged Star. ‘Says here that FD is Fuel Dump.’ Yikes! thought the puppy, her tail drooping. I don’t much like the sound of that.
A red warning light flashed on the dashboard and a female electronic voice announced very calmly, ‘Emergency situation. Zero fuel. Please land the aircraft immediately.’
Ben looked at Star. Star looked at Ben. Spud wagged enthusiastically. ‘At least we have the antidote,’ he barked.
20. A Fatal Mistake
Lara lay in her basket. She was in a very deep sleep, her breathing getting shallower by the minute. The vet was just leaving, having given the stricken spy dog a thorough going over. He’d attached an oxygen mask to Lara in the hope of improving her chances.
‘I’m awfully sorry, Mrs Cook,’ he said. ‘I’ve given her something to make her more comfortable but I can’t cure her. It’s a special kind of poison. We’ve run tests in the lab and we’ve never come across anything like it before. The professor was right – there is no known cure. I’m so sorry.’
‘How long has she got?’ asked Mrs Cook, wiping away a tear.
‘Hard to say,’ said the vet. ‘But not very long. Maximum, an hour.’
Mrs Cook blinked more tears away and thanked the vet for his time.
‘I guess this horrible man is the only one who can save her,’ sighed the vet. ‘Now he’s escaped, Lara is really out of options.’
Mrs Cook turned to Sophie and Ollie. ‘Your brother’s not come back yet,’ she said, sniffling into a tissue. ‘Where did you say he went again?’
Sophie tried to look innocent. ‘Oh, you know, just for walkies with the pups,’ she smiled.
‘And the professor,’ piped up her little brother. ‘I’m sure they’ll be fine.’
‘The professor?’ asked Mrs Cook. ‘What’s he got to do with it?’
‘He wants to find the antidote,’ chirped Ollie.
‘Shush,’ hissed Sophie, jabbing her brother in the ribs with her elbow.
‘But it’s a secret,’ remembered Ollie, ‘so I can’t tell you any more.’
Mrs Cook took a deep breath and remained calm. ‘What else can’t you tell me, Ollie?’ she asked in her special soothing voice.
‘About them tracking down Mr Big,’ smiled Ollie, powerless to resist.
Sophie smacked her forehead in frustration. ‘It’s Lara’s only chance, Mum,’ she explained. ‘The professor figured he was already in deep trouble so he may as well keep going.’
‘And drag your brother into more danger,’ yelled their mum, her cheeks reddening. She reached for her phone and punched in the scientist’s number. She glared at Sophie as she waited. ‘Professor!’ she screeched. ‘Where are you and where is my son?’
Professor Cortex watched as Mr Big’s plane disappeared into the distance with Ben and the puppies on board. ‘Your son?’ he asked. ‘Benjamin?’
‘Yes, Professor, my son Benjamin. Where is he? Is he safe?’
‘Safe?’ stammered the professor, his mind whirring. This was a double whammy. He hated lying. And he was terrified
of Mrs Cook. ‘He’s taken the puppies up – I mean out for a spin,’ he blurted, trying to avoid a blatant lie. ‘Yes, a spin. Plane crazy they are. The three of them,’ he added, as the dot of the aircraft shone in the sunshine.
‘Are they with you?’ asked Mrs Cook, calming down a little.
‘Not with me as such,’ admitted the professor, his brow perspiring and his brain racing. ‘But I can see them,’ he said enthusiastically.
‘Well, you keep your eye on them until I get there, Professor. OK? Now where are you?’
‘Will do, Mrs C,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry, things are looking up,’ he said, his hand over his brow as he peered into the sky.
21. A Glimmer
Ben sat in the pilot’s seat and surveyed the controls. ‘So many buttons and dials,’ he said, looking around frantically. Ben had flown a plane on his computer game but this was very different. ‘Spud! Star!’ he yelled. ‘Get in here! What do you know about flying a plane?’
Star’s tail wilted. ‘Nothing at all, Ben,’ she woofed. ‘I’ve seen some movies but even spy pups can’t land planes.’
‘Especially not ones that have no fuel,’ added Spud, tapping the fuel gauge.
The passengers fell silent as the left engine began to splutter. ‘No way!’ shouted Ben as the propeller slowed before stopping altogether. All eyes went right.
‘At least that one’s still work–’ woofed Star as the right engine spluttered to a halt.
The three passengers desperately looked around. There were a lot of emergency lights flashing on the dashboard. ‘Emergency,’ soothed the electronic voice. ‘Zero fuel. Prepare for crash landing.’
Ben yelled in frustration. ‘This is so unfair!’ Wind billowed around the interior but the plane was eerily quiet. The nose began to turn downwards and Spud howled in frustration. ‘We can’t die. We have the antidote!’
Star left the cabin and jumped around in the back of the plane. ‘Ben, where’s your moby?’ she woofed, putting her paw to her ear to demonstrate a phone. ‘Maybe you can ring for help. Or send a Mayday message? Or we can phone Mum and tell her we love her. Anything!’ she woofed.
Ben scrambled in the back looking for his backpack. ‘Where’s my bag?’ he said, rummaging behind the seats.
‘There,’ woofed Star, pulling a backpack off a hook.
‘No, that’s not it,’ he said. ‘Mine’s blue.’ The nose of the aircraft was now tilting downwards and the three passengers held on. Ben came to the realization first. ‘That’s a parachute!’ he yelled as he yanked it off the hook.
‘So where’s your bag?’ asked Spud.
Ben shrugged. ‘Mr Big must have put on my backpack, thinking it was a parachute. He jumped out of the plane with a bag containing some prawn cocktail crisps and a spare jumper!’
Prawn cocktail? thought Spud. My fave!
As they worked out what had happened, Ben’s face lit up and the puppies’ tails began to sway with excitement. All of a sudden there was a glimmer of hope. ‘There’s no time to lose!’ shouted Ben above the noise of the wind.
The boy struggled into the parachute, tugging at the straps to make it as secure as possible. ‘The plane’s ditching!’ he yelled. ‘I’ll jump and you two hold on to me. It’s our only chance.’
‘Yippee!’ woofed Spud. ‘I’m in. Come on, sis, let’s do it.’ Spud knew his sister was terrified of heights so he gripped her collar in his teeth and stuck his paws in Ben’s belt strap.
Ben moved towards the aeroplane door and looked out. The plane had already plunged through the wispy clouds. There was a patchwork of green fields below.
‘Come on, Ben,’ woofed Spud through gritted teeth. ‘Do it!’
Ben held his breath and counted down from five. He closed his eyes as he leapt from the aircraft. He pulled the cord and the chute billowed above them, Spud nearly letting go as their sudden descent was abruptly slowed.
Ben and the puppies glided down from the sky, almost enjoying the experience. They landed with a bump and the parachute floated down on top of them. Ben tunnelled his way from beneath the material and undid the backpack.
Spud and Star bounced about with excitement. ‘We did it. We actually did it!’ woofed Star.
They stood in the middle of a cornfield. ‘And, most important of all, we’ve got this,’ said Ben, pulling the bottle of purple liquid from his pocket, ‘and this.’ He held up his wrist with the GPS watch strapped to it. ‘This is officially the best gift from the professor. With the built-in satnav we’ll be able to navigate home.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Let’s hope we’re not too late!’
22. A Slow Getaway
Spud put his powerful doggie nose to the ground and began sniffing. ‘Rabbits,’ he woofed. ‘And chickens.’
‘Our priority is to find transport,’ said Ben.
Star’s ears pricked as she picked up the sound of a tractor. ‘This way,’ she woofed, sprinting off across the field. The puppies chased through the corn, Ben in hot pursuit. This was a race against time.
They stopped to catch their breath at a farm gate. Three dogs ran to the fence and growled angrily. ‘Stay off our land,’ they warned.
‘No need to be so horrible,’ yapped Star. ‘We need help. Our mum is ill and we have to get back home quickly.’
‘Well, you can’t come this way,’ snarled one of the dogs. ‘If you get in here, you might scare our sheep.’
Spud barked angrily. ‘I think you’re more likely to scare them with your loud barking,’ he replied. ‘Listen, we need urgent help. Our mother is dying and we have to find transport to the nearest town. Being horrible to us is not an option.’
The dogs continued snarling at each other while Ben studied the satnav on his watch. He clicked the green button and a small arrow appeared. ‘It’s that way,’ he shouted, pointing left. ‘Ten miles. Home… and Lara. They’re both that-a-way.’
All eyes went left. ‘But it’s just fields,’ woofed Spud, gazing into the distance. ‘With fences and hedges and cows!’
‘So there’s our solution,’ woofed Star, jabbing a paw towards a nearby tractor in the farmyard. ‘That’s our best bet if we have to navigate through fields.’
Ben looked at the tractor, worked out what the puppies were suggesting and shook his head. ‘I’m not so sure,’ he said. ‘I mean, how do you drive a tractor?’
‘No idea,’ yapped Star, sprinting towards the cab. ‘But I’m a fast learner. We need action. And quick.’
The puppy bounded into the cab and woofed excitedly. ‘The keys are in the ignition,’ she barked, twisting her head and starting the engine.
Spud was halfway to the tractor when the farm dogs leapt over the fence to chase him. Three against one – and the one only a puppy! Star watched in horror as her brother was knocked off his feet. He rolled through the dusty farmyard and sat up, shocked. Before the dogs could attack he righted himself, hackles raised and gave his fiercest snarl.
Ben took his chance to leap into the cab and take the driver’s seat. He ran his hands over the huge steering wheel. ‘Easier than a plane,’ he grinned. ‘Hardly any buttons at all.’ Ben’s foot hit the accelerator and the tractor engine roared, black smoke blowing into the air. ‘Come on, Spud,’ he yelled, ‘we’ve got a getaway vehicle!’
But Spud was blocked. The three horrible farm dogs crouched low, like hyenas stalking their prey.
Spud knew he’d never make it to the tractor. He remembered his karate lessons and jumped up on to his hind legs. ‘OK, dogs,’ he said, ‘if you insist.’ Spud bounced around, shadowboxing. ‘Left. Right. Jab. Jab. Uppercut.’ He snorted like a bull. ‘Bring it on!’
The three dogs circled the puppy cautiously. His confidence was worrying them.
Spud was confident on the outside but a nervous wreck on the inside. Three against one! Yikes! I need a spy-pup solution. He knew he couldn’t outrun them. They’re farm dogs: strong and fast. He was fairly sure that the odds meant he couldn’t out-fight them either. My only chance is t
o out-think them.
Ben revved the tractor and crunched it into gear. The farmer heard the rumpus and strode across the yard.
‘What’s going on here?’ he yelled at Ben. ‘What are you doing in my tractor?’
‘Maximum confusion,’ barked Spud, springing at one of the farm dogs and dodging through its legs.
The farmer jumped up on to the footplate of the tractor and rattled the door. ‘What are you doing, boy?’ he yelled. ‘Unlock this door and get out of there!’
Spud took advantage of the confusion and scurried for the door of a nearby barn. He jumped at the latch. Everyone looked in horror as the door swung open and out poured the sheep. The three farm dogs panicked. Their sole purpose was to protect sheep and now the yard was full of bleating. The farmer jumped down from the tractor and ran across to help shoo the sheep back indoors. The attention was off Spud and he ran for the tractor. Ben lurched the vehicle forward and Spud jumped aboard.
‘Which way’s out?’ woofed Star. ‘Watch out for sheep!’ she barked, covering her eyes as Ben wrestled with the steering wheel.
Ben checked his satnav watch and swung left. The farmer waved his hands in the air but it was clear that Ben wasn’t going to stop. The man’s hat fell off as he leapt out of the way. He shook his fist as the huge machine turned towards the metal gate. The gate was shut but there was no time to stop and open it, so Ben floored the accelerator. Black fumes belched out as the tractor demolished the gate and bounced into the cornfield.
Spud yapped with excitement as the tractor sped off, corn flying and rabbits running for their lives.
‘A ditch,’ warned Star as the tractor ploughed on. They hit the dip and Ben bounced off his seat and hit his head on the roof of the cab. Spud and Star held on for dear life as the tractor cut an emergency path through the field.