Einstein Dog

by Craig Spence

  Gotcha.

  The curt response eased Einstein’s fears. They were a team, he and Bertrand. A job needed doing, and they were doing it. All their training was paying off.

  A jerk signaled the end of Einstein’s tether. After some jiggling, as Bertrand shimmied into the culvert, the line went slack again and Einstein pushed on. Robbie’s scent grew stronger. He was very close, even though Einstein still couldn’t see in the pitch black. He paused, woofing softly.

  “H-help!” Robbie cried.

  Sensing urgency, Einstein lunged, straining against his choking collar. Still nothing. Then his nose bumped into something . . . a shoe. He clamped onto it.

  “Ow!” Robbie cried, instinctively trying to shake free.

  Hold still! Einstein begged.

  “Hold still!” Bertrand echoed down the shaft. “Einstein won’t hurt you. He just wants to keep you from falling.”

  The boy went limp, sobbing.

  Got him, Einstein signaled. Pull us up very slowly. Tell the boy to wriggle backwards if he can.

  Bertrand called down Einstein’s instructions. Slowly, torturously, they worked their way up, the walls becoming a little less slimy and light seeping around them as they neared the surface. Einstein eased his grip, but didn’t let go of Robbie’s foot. Not even when they were pulled out of the shaft into the sunlight and the boy had been handed safely into his mother’s outstretched arms did Einstein let go.

  Then all hell broke lose!

  Firefighters, police, and a crowd of spectators had gathered to watch the drama. They all cheered the hero and his boy.

  Oh no! Einstein groaned.

  “Jeez!” Bertrand gasped.

  No doubt the Iberian Rescue Dog and his handler would be the top story on the six o’clock news, and no doubt there would be some viewers who would be especially interested in knowing how a dog could be that smart. While the mob focused on Robbie and his mother, Einstein and Bertrand slunk away. But they both knew there would be no hiding from Frank Hindquist and AMOS. Like it or not, game time was over.

  They’ll make their move soon, Einstein predicted. Probably tonight.

  “Tonight!” Bertrand croaked, speaking out loud for Ariel’s benefit.

  They were seated around the breakfast nook in the Smith’s kitchen. The morning paper, which lay on the table between them, had a front page article about the “Iberian Rescue Hound” incident in the Nicomekl flood plain.

  Well, think about it. Hindquist knows about me now, right?

  “Uh-huh. He’d figure that out.”

  And he knows we know that he knows.

  Bertrand interpreted for Ariel. She snickered at his look of confusion.

  “So what’s your point?” he turned to Einstein again.

  The point is: Hindquist will move quickly, because he’s already figured out that we’re going to take evasive action. He knows his only chance is to strike tonight, because if he waits, I’ll be gone.

  “So why not get you out of here now? Why are we sitting around discussing it?”

  Einstein let the question hang for a moment. For one thing, there’s no way I’m going to be hiding in the weeds while you and the professor deal with Hindquist’s thugs, he said at last.

  “So you’re going to stay and help us fight AMOS?” Bertrand said gloomily. “Thanks, Einstein, but I don’t think that’s going to give us an edge, do you?”

  Oh, it would be stupid to fight them, Bertrand, the dog agreed patiently. That’s not the plan at all.

  “What is the plan then?” Bertrand asked.

  What we’re going to do is stage a battle. We’re going to put up a valiant resistance, but in the end lose to the overwhelming power of AMOS.

  “Oh, great!” Bertrand cried. “So first we get them really mad, then we let them capture us. I wish I’d thought of that!”

  Einstein laughed. No, we don’t let them capture us, he corrected. We let them get close, but only so they can see me escape at the last possible moment.

  “Why do we do that?”

  Rolling his eyes, Einstein sighed.

  Bertrand blinked and scratched his head. He explained the riddle to Ariel, who had been watching their exchange with interest. She smiled in that smug, know-it-all way of hers.

  “What?” Bertrand cried in frustration.

  “It’s so obvious, Birdman,” she responded. “If Einstein’s already in hiding when the thugs arrive, it will mean you guys planned his escape, and probably know where he’s gone.”

  “Okay, I got that,” Bertrand snapped.

  “And if they think there’s even a slight chance you know where he is, they won’t hesitate to kidnap you, then do whatever it takes to find out the location,” she continued, pausing to let the implications sink in.

  “They have to see Einstein run,” she explained, “and believe he fled at the last possible minute without any plan or destination.”

  “I see,” Bertrand said doubtfully.

  “Then there’s no point going after you or the professor, because you won’t have a clue where he’s gone either.”

  Bingo! Einstein woofed.

  So we need to prepare a royal greeting for our friends from AMOS, he said cheerfully. After all, we’ve been training for months to meet them, haven’t we?

  Bertrand laughed grimly and blushed at the same time, feeling a bit dense. “I suppose so,” he agreed.

  Their planning session was interrupted by Professor Smith, who shuffled into the kitchen in his housecoat and slippers. “Ariel!” he cried, flummoxed at having company so early in the day. “What a pleasant surprise.”

  “Good morning, Professor,” she said sweetly.

  “What are you three up to? Something on the not-to-do list I’d bet.”

  He glanced at the Iberian Rescue Hound headline, which Bertrand didn’t bother to conceal. “What’s this all about?” he said, starting to read. His eyes widened as he scanned the report. “Amazing,” he marveled.

  Suddenly he gasped and looked up. “This was you two, wasn’t it?” his gaze shifted from Bertrand to Einstein and back.

  “Yes, Dad,” Bertrand admitted.

  His father leaned over the table and hugged them both. “Absolutely incredible!” he whooped.

  Then he went back to the article, commenting as he read. “Very quick thinking on your parts.” “Where’d they get the idea that you’re an Iberian Rescue Hound, Einstein?” “If they only knew what kind of hound you really are.”

  “Um, Dad?”

  “Yes, son?”

  “This creates a bit of a problem,” Bertrand warned.

  “I can see that, son,” Professor Smith said, looking up. “We’ll begin packing after breakfast.”

  “Packing?”

  “It’s obviously not safe here, Birdie. Our cover’s ‘blown’ as they say in the espionage business. We have to go into hiding, at least until we can figure out some way to live here safely . . . Think of it as an unplanned vacation.”

  “Can I bring a friend?”

  “There’s an element of risk,” Professor Smith said. “That would not be a good idea on this trip. Einstein will have to keep you company.”

  “There’d be an element of risk either way, Dad,” Bertrand pointed out.

  “Please explain.”

  “AMOS will know Ariel has been in on our arrangement. Hindquist is ruthless, Dad. Do you think he will hesitate for a second if he figures he can get at us through her?”

  “But she won’t know where we are!” Professor Smith protested.

  “They won’t know that,” Ariel jumped in. “Not until they’ve wrung it out of me!”

  Trapped by their logic, Professor Smith smiled wryly at his three worthy opponents. They stared back. “I’ll talk to Ariel’s mother,” he said at last. “But first I’m going to phone Corporal Pinehurst and let him know about these latest developments. I’d appreciate a little police protection this morning.”

  “This is great!” Bertrand smiled contented
ly.

  The three of them lounged on the dock, soaking up the mid-afternoon sun; Professor Smith snoozed in a lawn chair on the beach, his novel lying on his lap. Their cabin looked out on Skaha Lake. Normally the NO VACANCY sign at the resort on Ponderosa Point was lit from April through to October, but it just so happened that a family had cancelled their booking minutes before Professor Smith had called. They had the cabin for a week.

  We shouldn’t get too relaxed, Einstein warned.

  “He’s right,” Ariel agreed, when Bertrand objected.

  “But the arrangements were made on a secure phone and the cops followed us out of Langley to make sure we weren’t being followed,” he protested. “How could AMOS possibly figure out where we are?”

  Never underestimate the enemy, Bertrand, Einstein warned. Especially when the enemy is Frank Hindquist.

  “Point taken,” Bertrand grumped. “But let’s not get too paranoid, eh?”

  As far as Einstein was concerned, there was no such thing as “too paranoid”. He pretended to be relaxed for the children’s sake, but when they were swimming, or hiking on the old Kettle Valley trail, his nose and his ears were hard at work. If an attack did come, they would be after him, not the children. So the best option would be to go against his instincts and run; get as far away from them as fast as he could.

  He’d talked this through with them. In a way, it would be better if they did get found. That was our original plan, remember, he explained. I was going to take off as if we weren’t prepared for their attack, then they’d leave you guys alone.

  “Don’t say that!” Ariel objected when Bertrand interpreted for her. “Don’t even think it!”

  Einstein didn’t tell either of them what he really thought.

  It seemed likely to him that Hindquist would not attempt an abduction. Too risky. What they wanted was Einstein dead. They would plan a hit. He looked out over the lake. Not from a boat, he reasoned. A shooter couldn’t get a steady enough bead from a rocking deck. He scanned the western shore of the lake, following the curve of the bay to a spur of land about 200 metres away. A sniper could hit him from there; easy.

  I see what you mean, Bertrand interrupted.

  Einstein licked his cheek. How long have you been listening in, partner?

  Long enough to be scared again. Really scared.

  Sorry.

  No, you’re right. Airee’s been more clued in than me. It’s about time I got the picture. This isn’t really a holiday after all, is it?

  Some things you can’t take a vacation from, Bertrand.

  So we should be taking precautions.

  Yup, Einstein agreed. You better break the news to your dad. Don’t get me wrong, but he’s not up on modern day spy-craft and covert operations very much.

  They laughed, Bertrand feeling lucky to have a dad who wasn’t good at everything, but who always tried his best.

  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.