by Andrew Cope
The owner of the suncream empire drove home, windscreen wipers at full swipe. It certainly wasn’t suntan weather but that didn’t bother Jimmy. It soon would be. He parked his car and sprinted to his front door, briefcase shielding his face from the rain.
Jimmy lived alone. He had never been a people person. He looked around his tiny apartment. ‘I’ll soon be upgrading,’ he told himself. ‘Just as soon as suncream sales take off.’
Jimmy had a plan that was pure evil. He went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. He saw a handsome man, about thirty years old, with sparkling blue eyes and a mop of black hair. ‘See you later, young Jimmy.’ He reached up and grabbed a flap of skin under his chin. There was a squelching sound as he started to peel off his face. Jimmy had spent ten years experimenting with the sun’s radiation and it had shrivelled his skin so that he looked as if he’d spent a whole day in the swimming pool. Except Jimmy’s wrinkles were deep and sore.
Next came the hair, and his contact lenses came out last. Jimmy fixed his thick-rimmed spectacles on to his face and looked in the mirror again. ‘Howdy, old Jimmy.’ Thirty had become a hundred and thirty! He’d got used to the red eyes, wrinkly face and burnt scalp. It was the price he’d paid for perfecting his suncream formula.
Jimmy peered at his reflection as he gently stretched his face. ‘Ouch,’ he yelled. ‘Where are my face-ache pills?’ He rummaged in the bathroom cabinet and popped a painkiller into his mouth before swigging it down with cold water. Jimmy’s evil plan meant sales of his suncream would soon skyrocket. ‘Or everyone on the planet will end up looking like me,’ he cackled.
It was always going to be the most difficult part of her plan. Lara sniffed around the motorway service station, looking for the right opportunity. It was a cold winter’s night and many of the lorry drivers had bedded down in their cabs. Others filled their fuel tanks, visited the toilet or bought pasties from the shop.
Lara waited in the shadows. It seemed an age before her chance came. Finally, a lone businessman sat down in the motorway cafe and opened his laptop to check his emails. While the computer was booting up he strolled over to the food counter and started to load up his tray.
I have approximately sixty seconds, thought Lara. Let’s do it! She jumped through the cafe window and sat at the man’s table. It was very late and she was thankful there was nobody around to notice an emailing dog with a rucksack strapped to her back. Lara picked up a teaspoon in her mouth and clicked on to the Internet. She logged in to her email account and tapped a one-line message to Ben, thinking, The spelling is awful but I’m sure he’ll understand. Lara clicked Send. The man paid at the till and wandered back to his laptop as the spy dog disappeared into the night.
Lara was hopeful that this would be the last leg of the journey. It had taken two days for her to get this far north. She’d sniffed around the motorway service station and wolfed down a half-eaten burger. Not enough pickle, she thought. I really fancy some pickle. And I’d kill for some chips with mayo. She looked for a lorry with the right markings. She’d plumped for one with ‘Jimmy’s Tartan Suncream’ emblazoned on the side. I like the jingle, she thought. And Jimmy seems like a nice bloke on the TV ad.
According to the address on the cab, it was going to the town where her father lived, so Lara scrambled into the back of the trailer and stowed away with the cargo. She settled down for an uncomfortable night as the wagon trundled out of the service station on its short journey to the Scottish mountains. As Jimmy’s lorry ate up the tarmac, the sleeping dog dreamt of chips and mayonnaise.
8. Contact!
The Cook family were very worried. Lara had been gone for two days.
‘There’s no note or anything,’ said Ollie. ‘Do you think she’s in danger? Could be baddies,’ he added, looking concerned.
‘Or Mr Big?’ suggested Sophie. ‘Maybe Lara’s arch-enemy has escaped?’
‘He’s safely behind bars,’ explained Dad. ‘I’m sure there’s some sort of innocent explanation. Has she been acting strangely lately?’ he asked in his familiar tell-me-your-secrets voice.
The children were sworn to secrecy but Ollie tried so hard to look innocent that Dad worked out he was guilty. ‘What do you know, Ollie?’
‘Hardly anything,’ blurted the youngest child, unable to resist Dad’s special voice. ‘I don’t know about the diary or anything like that.’
‘Shush, stupid,’ nudged Sophie.
‘What diary?’ asked Dad.
‘The one that I don’t know about,’ replied the confused six-year-old.
‘Tell me what you don’t know,’ said Dad, more seriously this time.
Now Ollie was bamboozled. ‘Lara’s parents. She’s been wanting to find out about her mum and dad. She loves us and we love her but she can’t help wondering. And we visited an old man in a smelly home and got chased by some people. But we got his diary, Sophie said it was treasure, and Lara read it. But we haven’t seen it. We think it tells her about her mum and dad.’
‘And where’s the diary?’ asked Dad calmly.
‘We really don’t know that, Dad,’ explained Ben. ‘Lara’s kept it private.’
Ben, Sophie and Ollie hunted high and low for the old man’s diary but Lara had either kept it well hidden or taken it with her. Ben decided to email his friends to get a search party organized. He noticed one unread message in his Inbox and clicked to open it:
skotland ski place finding dad. Luv u bak wen hav truth
lara xxx
Ben stifled his shout of joy. Instead he punched the air in delight. ‘She’s alive and well … and in Scotland.’ Ben’s energy levels returned and he did the mad-professor jig. He could feel an adventure coming on.
Professor Cortex wasn’t impressed with Ben’s idea. ‘I know where GM451 has gone, and why. The good news is that she’s wearing a tracking collar so if we can get fairly close the technology will do the rest. But I can’t just whisk you and your sister and brother off to Scotland,’ he frowned. ‘As far as your mum’s concerned, it’d be kidnapping. I’m already in her bad books, remember?’
Ben and Sophie nodded, recalling their previous adventures with Lara and the professor. Mum had shouted at the scientist last time! The children thought hard about another idea. ‘We have to go and see Lara,’ whined Ollie. ‘She’s all alone and may be in trouble.’
‘How about a school skiing holiday?’ shouted Ben, alive with an idea. ‘There’s lots of snow in Scotland at this time of year. We could say that we’re going on a school trip and you can come with us cos you’re our teacher.’
Sophie and Ollie perked up. It was half an idea.
Professor Cortex removed his spectacles and chewed the ear piece, deep in thought. He was desperate to find GM451 but equally keen to stay in Mrs Cook’s good books. ‘Ollie’s too young,’ he said. ‘And, besides, fibbing is bad.’ The children looked at him expectantly. ‘So maybe the truth is better,’ he considered. ‘I can’t risk upsetting your mum again. It’s February half-term next week, so maybe your parents will agree to a weekend trip. And if they won’t let you come I’ll have to go to Scotland alone. Fingers crossed,’ smiled the professor.
The children had everything crossed. There was no way they wanted to miss out on this adventure.
9. Much Farther to Father?
Hours later Lara woke as she felt the lorry come to a halt. The back doors creaked open and a man jumped into the back to check the cargo. The spy dog fell completely silent, her ears listening and her nose taking in the smells.
‘This is the last batch,’ she heard the man call to his colleague. ‘Enough emergency suncream for the nation. So we’re all set for midweek. It’ll be the best fireworks display ever!’ Lara heard the two men laughing. ‘Let’s grab a cuppa and then unload the cargo.’
Lara waited a few minutes before creeping through the boxes and jumping down from the back of the lorry. She was in a massive warehouse. Lara looked around and whistled softly. There were crates of suntan lotio
n as far as the eye could see. Thousands! Probably tens of thousands, she gasped. This must be the biggest suncream company in the world. I don’t know how Jimmy’s going to sell all this! He must be praying for some sunshine!
There were a few warehouse workers around so the dog kept a low profile as she looked for the exit. My priority is to find my dad, she thought. Make contact. Then back home to the kids. They’ll be missing me … and boy am I missing them!
Lara nosed through a door and tiptoed down a corridor. Which way’s out? she thought. She stopped and sniffed. What on earth’s that strange whiff? And this part of the warehouse seems to have people in white coats rather than warehouse workers. It’s a bit like spy school. Lara rounded a corner into another huge warehouse and stopped in amazement. She let out a gasp and sat down in shock. What kind of business is this? Lara stared up at the rocket towering above her. A real space rocket! Wow! She looked left and right before cautiously sniffing her way around the base of the spacecraft, marvelling at the science and planning that must have gone into building it. She sat and looked up at the red letters on the side of the craft. OZONE 1.
It’s huge!
The warehouse door began to open and Lara shrank into the background. She watched as a lorry backed into the building and a small army of white-coated men appeared and started milling around.
OK, Lara thought. This is weird. But all I want to do is find my father and go home. Adventure, mystery … rockets … it’s not my problem.
Lara eyed the warehouse door, now wide open. That’s my way out, she thought, skulking in the shadows.
But suddenly two of the men saw her and shouted. ‘Hey, mutt! Stop that dog!’ One of them pressed a button and an alarm sounded.
OK, OK, I’m leaving, she woofed. Calm down, everybody. It’s only a dog.
But the men weren’t being calm. The shutter began to close.
OK, Lara, let the humans panic. Stay calm and think, girl.
Some men jumped at her, clutching handfuls of fur as the spy dog sprinted for her life. The shutter was inching downwards and three white-coated men stood guarding it. Yikes! Her pace quickened to a sprint as she bore down on them. Out of my way. Spy dog coming through!
Lara went head first into the men, sending them tumbling like skittles. She looked around. Even more are appearing! And that alarm is deafening. She looked up to see the shutter three quarters down and falling fast. Quick or I’m trapped! Several of the men had picked up large pieces of wood, which they were holding like baseball bats. Double yikes, thought Lara, don’t you know I’m supposed to be man’s best friend?
Her heart sank as she spied a man in black uniform carrying a large gun. Lara recognized it from her spy-dog weapons training. A Taser stun gun! She shivered. It shoots bolts of electricity. Not nice! Lara raised her hackles and issued a warning growl. This calls for a spy-dog solution. The man with the Taser was getting scarily close.
Go, Lara, go! Lara ran for her life, zigzagging past the menacing men. One of them brought his wooden baton down hard, narrowly missing Lara but slamming the wood into his mate’s head.
Ouch, thought Lara, that’s going to hurt! The shutter is too low. Plan B … quick! Lara spied a yellow forklift truck and jumped aboard, noticing that the keys were in the ignition. She kept her head low as she hit the accelerator, lurching the vehicle forward. Flooring the pedal she crashed through some wooden boxes. Which way’s out? she barked as men in white coats leapt out of her path. Taser man was in her way. No! she yelped, lurching the vehicle sharply left. Lara heard the buzz of the Taser gun and ducked. Then she heard a man yell as he was accidentally zapped by 3,000 volts of electricity.
The forklift truck hit a large vat of suncream and gallons of the sticky white substance spilt on to the concrete floor. Lara ducked again as a wooden baton splintered against the forklift truck. She heard a lot of yelling as men slipped in the oily liquid. There was no obvious way out so Lara aimed the truck at a door and took the brace position as she crashed through, splintering out into the daylight.
She managed a quick backward glance. There were a dozen men sliding about in the suncream, covered from head to foot. At least they’ll be well protected from the sun. One man’s hair was on end. He must have been zapped, she thought. Sorry, folks. I didn’t mean to cause all this confusion. I was just investigating your amazing rocket!
Lara took in the scene ahead. She was in a huge yard covered in snow and surrounded by barbed wire. It’s like a prison yard, she thought. No time to think. Some of the suncreamed men had slithered to their feet and Taser man was recharging his gun. Lara jumped from the vehicle and grabbed a snow-covered rock. She lumbered back to the truck and climbed aboard, then aimed the truck at the fence and floored the accelerator. The yellow forklift shot forward and Lara did her best to wedge the rock on to the accelerator pedal. I’ve seen this on the TV, she thought. I just hope it works in real life.
Lara waited as long as she dared before leaping from the speeding truck and rolling, stuntman-style, through the snow. She looked up to see the truck tangled in the wire. But there’s just enough of a hole, she spied, for a dog to escape. Lara ran, without looking back.
Mum had wobbled a bit before agreeing to the Scotland trip. ‘On one condition, Professor,’ she’d warned. ‘You find Lara and stay put. No action-hero stuff and absolutely no danger.’
Sophie watched the professor twiddling his spectacles nervously. He really was scared of Mum!
‘No danger, Mrs Cook. Guaranteed no action-hero stuff, either.’
‘And Mr Cook and I will drive up north in three days’ time. By then you’ll have located Lara and we can enjoy a spot of skiing.’
‘Deal,’ nodded the professor, mopping his brow. ‘Kids, pack your bags, we’re going on a dog hunt!’
Lara was exhausted and hungry as she approached the town. Not far now, she thought, the butterflies in her stomach flapping like mad. The adventure at the suncream warehouse had been a shock but the thought of seeing her father was even scarier. What if he’s horrible? Or if he doesn’t want anything to do with me? she thought. And what if I can’t find him? All I know is that he’s called Leo and is a mountain rescue dog.
Lara had cold feet in more ways than one as her snowy paw prints traced a path to the mountain rescue office. The hungry dog raided a bin, scoffing the remains of a tuna sandwich and something that tasted like banana cake. She entered the town and checked out the map at the tourist information centre. The mountain rescue office was clearly marked so she traced her paw to the You are here dot. Taking a deep breath she set off to meet her father.
10. Leo the Lyin’
Lara approached the mountain rescue office, heart pounding. It didn’t look special; it was more of a Portakabin. But it might contain someone special. My dad! she thought as she nosed the door open. I can’t wait to meet him! I wonder what he’s like.
There was nobody around so Lara let herself into the scruffy office. It was nice and warm after the Scottish mountain air. She stood for a minute by the electric fire, toasting her frozen paws. Ahh, bliss! Signs of the mountain rescue team were everywhere – ropes looped over hooks, boots lined up on a rack, heavy jackets hanging on pegs. She could smell coffee, so someone must be in there. Lara tiptoed through the first office into the kitchen area – there was a dog sleeping on a rug.
Black and white. Could it be my dad? Do I wake him and ask? Lara was surprised at how nervous she felt. All those Secret Service missions and I never felt as scared as I do now, she thought. How weird.
Lara noticed the sleeping dog had a collar, so she tiptoed forward, hoping to see if it had ‘Leo’ written on it. She leant over and squinted as the dog woke with a growl.
‘Who are you, mutt? And what are you doin’ in my cabin?’
‘Er, sorry, sir,’ woofed Lara. ‘I’m looking for a dog named Leo. Mountain rescue service. Strong as an ox, apparently,’ she blurted. ‘Do you know him?’
The old dog kept snarling, one ear r
aised. ‘Who’s askin’?’
‘My name’s Lara and I’ve come a long way to meet him. I’ve heard he’s a real hero. He’s rescued loads of people from these mountains.’
The old dog softened and the snarling attitude stopped. ‘There was a Leo, a while back,’ he barked, ‘who was as strong as an ox. But that Leo’s gone now. Long gone, lady.’
‘It’s important that I find him,’ declared Lara. ‘Where did he go?’
‘He just kinda faded away,’ replied the old dog. ‘Had a tumble on the hills, injured his back legs, which meant he could never be sent to rescue again.’
‘Oh dear,’ barked Lara. ‘And was he a hero?’
The old dog thought for a moment. ‘He was brave enough,’ he nodded. ‘Sometimes too brave. Ya know, he’d take a risk too far.’
Sounds just like me, she smiled. ‘Do you know where I can find him?’
‘I don’t think he wants to be found, lady,’ barked the old dog. ‘So, if I were you, I’d back off and go home to wherever you came from. Leo’s not interested in meeting ya, whoever ya are.’
‘But I only need a minute –’
‘I said back off, lady,’ growled the old dog, returning to the snarling attitude.
Lara was confused. There’s no need to be unpleasant, she thought. But I can see this conversation’s going nowhere. ‘OK, I’ll leave you in peace,’ she woofed as she backed out of the room.
Lara was just leaving the Portakabin as two men entered.
‘Cuppa, mate?’ asked one.
‘Aye,’ replied the other.
Lara stood outside the door, ears pricked, as the men entered the kitchen and flicked on the kettle.
‘Hi there, Leo, old fella,’ said one of the men. ‘How are those back legs today?’