by Allen Zadoff
“I need to know he’s okay, or I won’t agree to anything.”
“Fair enough,” the general says with a grin.
THEY BRING ME TO CHANCE.
He lies on a bed in a small white holding cell. The front wall is made of clear, hard polymer with a talk port in the center. The moment he sees me, he runs to the port and throws himself against it.
My throat tightens when I see how afraid he is. I shake my head, struggling not to cry out.
“We waited for you as long as we could, then we started to hike out and they came for us.”
“I heard all about it,” I say.
“I tried to fight them off, but there were too many of them. They grabbed Junebug and me.”
“You were very brave. I’m sure you did your best.”
I see the earbud in his ear. Rupani must have let him keep it so we could speak.
“Did you come to get me out of here?” Chance asks.
I swallow hard. “Soon.”
“But not now.”
I shake my head, and his face droops with disappointment. He glances behind me at the Maelstrom soldiers who stand guard at the end of the hall.
“Are you a prisoner, too?” he asks.
“I’m afraid so.”
“What about Junebug? They separated us, and I’m worried about her.”
I debate whether to tell him the truth but decide it’s not the time or place for it. I need him to stay positive and not lose hope.
“I’ve seen her,” I say. “She’s okay.”
“They captured us and put us on separate helicopters. They asked me a lot of questions about you, but I wouldn’t tell them anything. You believe me, right?”
“Of course I believe you. It’s not your fault, Chance. None of this is your fault.”
“Who are these people?”
“Dr. Pao was right. Animal Control is the cover for Maelstrom. We’re inside their base.”
“How do we get out? What do they want from us?”
“Not us. Me.”
He stares, curious, but I perk up my ears and point my muzzle around the room.
They’re listening, Chance.
He blinks, signaling his understanding.
“For now I need you to take care of yourself and trust me.”
“Tomorrow,” he whispers. “That’s the day my mom gets out of treatment. I’m not going to see her again, am I?”
He sniffles, holding back tears. It rips me up inside to see him like that. I want to yelp and lick his face, but I can’t get to him through the dividing wall.
“I’m going to get you out of here,” I say. “I promise.”
Chance puts his palm on the clear wall, and I press my head against it, right where his hand is. I can’t feel him petting me, but I know that’s what he’s trying to do, and it fills me with joy.
We were both alone when we met, but now we’ve got each other. He’s my boy, and I’m his dog.
“Be careful, Wild.”
“You, too.” He does his best to smile.
The guard whistles to signal our time is up.
I look at Chance for a long moment, memorizing every detail of his face and smelling his familiar scent through the holes in the talk port.
The guard grunts, and I reluctantly turn away from Chance and head for the door.
General Rupani is waiting for me in the hall outside.
“Did you have a nice visit?” he asks.
I growl at him, barely suppressing my rage.
“Tell me what you want me to do,” I say.
I CAN SMELL THE OCEAN THROUGH THE CLOSED WINDOWS OF THE VAN.
I’m in the back of a Maelstrom vehicle that’s disguised as an Animal Control van. We’re driving up the Pacific Coast Highway through Malibu. The large officer who came to Chance’s group home is sitting across from me. He tried to kill me a few days ago, but now he and these other men are my partners in a secret operation for Maelstrom. There are other blue-uniformed soldiers in the vehicle as well, but I don’t recognize them.
General Rupani explained the situation during a briefing back at the base. He said that six months ago I was placed with the family of the heiress who owns the yacht I woke up on. I was their family pet, or at least I pretended to be, while my real purpose was to spy on them and report back to Maelstrom. Instead of a fly on the wall, I was the dog in the living room, listening to every phone conversation, reading every piece of mail, watching as Helen Horvath typed passwords into her computer. When she traveled, I traveled with her, and the spying continued.
“We need you to go back into the Horvath house,” General Rupani said. “We want you to retrieve a computer jump drive.”
“Why me?” I asked.
“Helen Horvath keeps it on a chain around her neck, and she never takes it off. We believe it has the access codes to a secret financial network that’s being used to fund terrorist activities around the globe. You can get close enough to take it away from her without her realizing immediately.”
“A necklace with a jump drive. That’s the entire mission? Why would I run away from a mission like that?”
“Some things are better left in the past,” General Rupani said. “Your memory loss may turn out to be a blessing. Let’s get you back inside that house, and let’s focus on the future together.”
I wrinkled my nose, disturbed by what I was hearing. “What future are you talking about?”
“Maelstrom was your home, She-Nine. There’s no reason it can’t be your home again.”
Home.
The thing I’d been seeking from the moment I awoke on the yacht. The general was offering me a way back.
But did I want to return to the people who tried to kill me? Could I ever really trust them?
I didn’t respond to the general, afraid to say something that might risk Chance’s life.
The briefing ended with a simple promise by the general: If I follow orders, he’ll release Chance. If I deviate, the agreement is off, and no one will ever see Chance alive again.
Back in the van, the large officer snaps his fingers to get my attention.
“Stay sharp,” he says. “We’ll be there in one minute.”
“Got it,” I say, snorting at the smell of this man who I hate.
“We’re setting up the command center a mile away down the beach,” the officer says. “We’ll be monitoring your vital signs through your collar. General Rupani is your handler for this mission. He’ll be in constant contact with you.”
I bark, letting him know I understand.
“By the way, no hard feelings about the other day, when we shot at you with the zapper,” he says. “Lucky we missed, huh?”
He smiles as if we’re friends, and I swallow the anger that would have me lash out at him now.
“I was just following orders,” he says. “We’re soldiers. That’s what soldiers do.”
Is that what we do? We follow orders even if it means killing one another?
I turn away, unable to deal with this now, and focus my thoughts on the task ahead.
The van pulls off the highway and slows behind a bank of trees. A soldier opens the door to let me out.
“Your destination is about a mile down the road,” the large officer says.
I yelp my understanding and hop out of the van, grateful to be away from these people.
I take a deep breath of ocean air and trot down the embankment, darting across the Pacific Coast Highway during a break in the traffic.
I jog along the side of the highway for a while, allowing my fur to pick up dirt and leaves from the underbrush. A few cars slow so their drivers can look at me, probably wondering what a dog is doing running free on the side of the road.
No need to slow down or lend a hand, I think to myself, and they don’t, choosing instead to stare but not get involved.
The important thing is that I want to be seen. If people report a stray running along the road, it will only strengthen the story when I show up at t
he Horvath home.
A lost dog found. A stray who has come home.
I leave the highway and cut in at Malibu Colony Cove, following a map I memorized at the Maelstrom base. I walk past a guardhouse where two armed security patrolmen are chatting. They notice me at the last second, too late to catch me.
I continue up the road, moving past the doors of multimillion-dollar ocean homes.
I see my destination ahead. It’s the house at the very end of the private drive, fronted by a high wall sealing it off from the street around it. It looks exactly like the photos I was shown in my mission briefing.
I walk to the front gate and start to bark—loud staccato bursts that evolve into a mournful howl. It takes only a minute for a hidden door to open. Two bodyguards in black suits step out from the house armed with automatic weapons.
The bodyguards are intimidating as they approach me cautiously. But the moment they get close, their demeanor softens.
“I can’t believe it,” the first bodyguard says. “Is it Honey?”
Honey! That’s the name Magic Myron called me at PetStar.
“It looks just like her,” the second one says. “She has the same spots—but I don’t recognize this collar.”
“Is it you, Honey?”
I’m not sure I like the name, but I bark and wag my tail, playing the part of the dog they know.
“It looks like she’s been through a lot.”
“You guys have no idea,” I say, but of course they only hear barking.
“Poor girl,” the first bodyguard says.
The security patrol from the bottom of the street drives up fast. He rolls down the window, acknowledging the guys with automatic weapons from the mansion.
“She came walking up past the guardhouse,” the patrolman says. “She’s the one, right?”
The bodyguard nods. “It’s a miracle.”
He opens a door to the mansion property and whistles to me, urging me to follow him.
Inside.
I walk through the door into paradise. A massive ornate house rises before me, fountains and reflecting pools on the grounds in front. The walls of the house are made of glass, and I can look straight through to the length of private beach on the other side. I hear the waves crashing beyond the house and smell the salt foam in the air.
The door of the mansion flies open, and a bright-eyed redheaded girl runs out, her mouth open with awe and delight as she flings herself at me.
It’s the girl from my flashbacks.
I look down, and sure enough—she’s wearing pink boat shoes.
“Honey, you’re home!” she shouts, and she throws her arms around my neck.
The breath catches in my throat as I feel her arms clutching me, and I taste her salty tears as she weeps with joy.
I lean into her, letting her embrace me as Honey, her long-lost pet.
I DO NOT REMEMBER THE HORVATH FAMILY.
Not directly. I have only wisps of memory that float in and out of my consciousness.
But the family remembers me. I’m their beloved dog, Honey, who disappeared after six months of living with them.
“We don’t know how you snuck on board the yacht,” Helen Horvath says. “The police found your pawprints on the dock after the yacht sank, and we were so worried about you.”
“Joy was heartbroken,” Helen’s boyfriend says.
Joy. That’s the name of the girl who loves me.
For the Horvaths, the last week has been about mourning the loss of their beloved pet and hoping against hope that she had somehow survived.
For me, they’ve been about fighting for survival while trying to find out who I am.
Now the Horvaths’ pet dog has come home again, and it’s a time for celebration.
I’m given a bath and examined by a private vet who comes to the house. Ms. Horvath is desperate to know what happened to me and to explain my injuries. Did I run away? Was I in a fight? Was I hit by a car?
The vet sees the wounds healing from my fight in the forest, and he takes them as evidence I’ve been a stray, perhaps even fought with one of the coyotes that live in the canyons above Malibu. When it’s determined that I’m free of rabies or other diseases and safe to be around children, I’m brought back into the center of family life.
After dinner that night, I relax with the family on a roof deck overlooking the ocean. Joy is curled up next to me, snuggling while she plays on her phone.
“Look how happy she is,” Ms. Horvath says, smiling at her daughter.
Helen Horvath is one of the richest women in the world. She could afford an unlimited number of dogs, but her daughter bonded with one special dog, a dog who seemed more intelligent than any other, a dog who was unique and irreplaceable.
“I told you everything happens for a reason,” her boyfriend says.
I lie on the deck and feel the cool wood planks on my belly. General Rupani said I lived with the Horvath family for six months, but I have no real memory of that. I look around at the family I don’t know, and I feel a pang of sorrow, missing Chance and wondering if he’s okay.
“Can you hear me, She-Nine?”
I snap up, startled by General Rupani’s voice in my head, broadcasting from a mile away in the command center.
“I hear you.”
“You’re inside the house?”
“I’m here, and I’ve been cleared by the vet to interact with the family.”
Joy takes the tiara off her head and tries to put it on mine. “Now you’re a princess, too,” she says.
“It’s a little hard to talk right now,” I tell the general.
“What are you doing exactly?”
Joy adjusts the tiara, then she dances around me, bowing deeply as if she’s meeting royalty.
“I guess I’m bonding,” I say.
“Tonight,” the general says. “That’s when you’ll finish your mission.”
I WAIT UNTIL THE FAMILY IS ASLEEP.
I creep through the house, moving down the dark hallway toward Ms. Horvath’s room.
“Slow and steady,” General Rupani says.
I grunt an acknowledgment and continue down the hall. I pass Joy’s bedroom and hear her snoring lightly as she sleeps.
I stop in the middle of the hall, my breath quickening, my pulse speeding up.
“Your heart rate and respiration are too high,” General Rupani says. “What’s going on with you?”
I hesitate, fighting the instinct to run away before I do something to harm this family.
“You’re thinking too much, She-Nine. That’s always been your problem. You’re too intelligent, and it gets in your way. Follow my commands, and you’ll be okay.”
“What do you want me to do?” I whisper.
“Helen Horvath’s bedroom. Head there now.”
I take a deep breath and continue down the hall toward the bedroom, my paws silent on the carpeting.
I glance out the second-floor window of the mansion. A bodyguard walks the property, looking for dangers from outside, unaware that the real danger is me.
I walk toward the bedroom. The door is slightly ajar.
I stop, and a sense of déjà vu washes over me. I’ve been in this situation before, this same hall, this same moment.
The memory of the blond soldier hits me like a wave. He’s wearing a blue Maelstrom uniform, and he’s adjusting my collar, just like Rupani did earlier today.
“Keep going,” General Rupani says.
I hesitate, struggling as the memory pushes its way into my consciousness.
“You may feel uncertain,” the general says, “but you’ve done this many times before. You’re trained and bred for it. Trust your instincts.”
I whimper and shake off the memory. I nudge open the bedroom door with my snout. The room is dark, with just a hint of moonlight coming through the drapes. It’s more than enough light for me to be able to see everything.
Ms. Horvath is sleeping soundly in a massive bed, her boyfriend next to her.
The jump drive glints on a silver chain around her neck.
“Get the drive and take it to the hall window,” General Rupani says.
This is the mission I was briefed on earlier, but is it the entire mission?
I take a step toward Helen Horvath, and my body starts to overheat. My tongue lolls out of the side of my mouth and I hear myself panting.
“What’s happening to you?” General Rupani asks.
The scene before me is calm, just a woman and her boyfriend sleeping soundly, yet my body is reacting as if something terrible happened in this room.
I stare at Helen’s face in the moonlight, and my memories start to return.
Six months come flooding back to me.
I lived with this family. I gathered evidence on Ms. Horvath implicating her in money-laundering activities overseas. That money was funding terrorism, or so it seemed.
I remember that part now. But there’s something else—something more troubling. Not about her, but about me.
About Maelstrom.
Why can’t I remember?
“Why didn’t I finish the mission before?” I ask General Rupani.
“No matter,” he says. “Stop asking questions and get the drive.”
Why didn’t I finish?
I edge toward the bed, lifting my paws and hoisting myself up as quietly as I can.
Ms. Horvath stirs. “Honey, is that you?” she says, still half-asleep.
I come closer, pushing my weight against her. She reaches for me, instinctively pulling me toward her.
“You’re a good dog, Honey. Joy loves you so much.”
I snuggle against her and she sighs.
“I’m glad you came home, girl. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
The sweetness of her words burns me. I hate myself right now, hate what I’m about to do.
I lick her face and she laughs in her sleep and pushes my head gently away. As she does, I brush past her bare throat, using a tooth to snag the jump drive necklace and pop it from around her neck without her knowing, then catch it in my mouth.
I lean into her, putting too much weight on her leg.
“Get down, Honey,” she urges. “Sleep in your own bed. I love you, but I’ll see you in the morning.”