Just then, three boys knocked over the umbrella display, and Dad went to help.
“Did you get your boots, Rosie?” Charlotte asked, coming up with a pair of purple boots in her hand.
“No, they don’t have the right ones,” Rosie said.
“Where’s Dad?” Tom asked as he walked over with boots that were army green.
Rosie was about to tell him when her brother’s eyes suddenly got wide and the green boots slid out of his hand.
“It’s him,” Tom whispered urgently, staring at the aisle behind them.
At first all Rosie could see was a family with four arguing brothers, but then she too saw him, the man from the house. He was wearing the same brown coat and slipping effortlessly through the crowd, unnoticed by everyone except the Baileys.
Charlotte drew in a sharp breath. “If we follow him, we might be able to find out what he’s really up to—and get it on video.”
“Good thinking,” Tom said, taking off after the man. “Just don’t let him see you.”
Rosie flew after him, Charlotte on her heels, though the crowd made it tough to move fast. Charlotte kept whacking people in the knees with her purple boots and having to apologize while Tom kept stepping on other shoppers.
Rosie was the first to reach the end of the aisle, and she craned her head, trying to see where the man had gone. Unfortunately everyone around her was tall and very in the way.
“He’s headed into lawn and garden supplies,” Tom said as he came up, slightly breathless.
“Don’t let him get away,” Charlotte hissed as they took off.
The man did not stop to look at garden tools or grass seed. He just darted past families and lone soldiers picking up supplies.
Before they could follow, the Baileys were cut off by a rogue shopping cart full of cat litter. “We’re going to lose him,” Tom cried. But Rosie was able to inch past and keep the man in her sights as he nearly sprinted for the automotive section at the very back of the store, near the rear exit. He was probably going to buy engine parts to build an escape vehicle to take the dogs, including Buddy, away forever. Rosie could not let that happen. She sped up and was closing in on the man, when suddenly a security guard reached out and grabbed Rosie’s arm.
“I can’t let you outside without an adult, little miss,” the guard said. Her voice was kind, but Rosie was no “little miss” and the man in brown was getting away. He was already out the automatic doors, and once he made it to the parking lot he would be lost for good, ruining their chance to save the dogs.
So Rosie did the only thing she could think of: She yelled. There were a lot of things she could have said, and later that night Rosie thought of all of them. But in that moment, what escaped her lips was, “IED!”
And as it turned out, when someone, even someone who was only six, shouted about an improvised explosive device in a store full of army folk, the result was pure chaos. People screamed and ran and ducked for cover, and the security guard, in what she believed was a show of valor, threw herself on top of Rosie. The last thing Rosie saw before being buried under the guard’s polyester uniform was the man in brown heading out into the sunset.
Later, after Dad had apologized to the store manager for the millionth time, and the Baileys had left the PX in disgrace, Rosie overheard her brother and sister.
“I wish we’d been able to follow him,” Tom said, his voice wistful. “Who knows what we might have found?”
“I know,” Charlotte said, her voice gloomy. “We’ll just have to make sure we get inside the house and get that video tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” Tom said heavily.
Her siblings thought Rosie had blown it, and Rosie knew it was true. She’d picked the worst time ever to finally get a military term right. As they drove home, Rosie blinked back tears.
She wanted to save the dogs and help her brother, but instead she had messed up everything.
It was a quiet bike ride as Charlotte led the way to the alley off Crimson Drive the next morning, sweat prickling her temples despite the fact that it was barely eight a.m. Their plan was simple: Find a way into the house, sneak down to the basement, and make a video of Tom checking out whatever they found there. Her cell phone was charged and ready for filming, and Tom had brought along Dad’s old binoculars. Rosie was ready too, dressed head to toe in spy gear complete with her night vision goggles and Dad’s watch with a timer, flashlight, and glow-in-the-dark numbers.
They stowed their bikes under some bushes at the corner of Crimson Drive, then crept slowly through the trees at the side of the alley until they’d reached the house. Charlotte, who was in the lead, raised a hand, and they all came to a halt while Tom used the binoculars to see if there was any movement.
“All clear,” he said quietly.
“Okay, then, Charlie Mike,” Charlotte said, using the lingo for continuing a mission.
“No more military words,” Rosie said sharply.
Well, Charlotte could certainly understand her sister’s aversion to them today. “Sorry,” she whispered.
They headed to the house, where they began testing windows. Last time only Rosie had attempted to open them so Charlotte was hoping if she or Tom, who were taller and bigger, tried, they might be able to get one of them to budge.
“This one opens partway,” Tom whispered. The window was at the side of the house, and Charlotte went to help him tug.
“I think it’s stuck,” she said after a minute. Sweat trickled down her back, making her skin unpleasantly sticky.
“I can fit in there,” Rosie said in her normal voice. “And then I can open the front door and let you in.”
Charlotte and Tom quickly shushed her.
“That’s not safe,” Charlotte said as Rosie glared at them. “Don’t worry, we’ll find another way in.”
She just hoped it was true as she followed Tom around to the back of the house.
Rosie was tired of Tom and Charlotte ignoring her ideas. They didn’t believe her about the dognapper, they thought she’d ruined their chances at following the man in brown, and now they didn’t think she could open the front door by herself. So Rosie decided it was time to show them—she was going to sneak into the house all by herself. She waited as her siblings rounded the corner, then poked her head into the partially opened window, wiggled her shoulders through, and kicked until she’d managed to wedge her whole self inside.
Rosie stood up fast, in case the evil man was there, but the room was empty. Using her best stealth moves, she tiptoed into the hall where she saw what she was looking for: the door to the basement. She held her breath to be extra quiet as she turned the knob, then pulled the door open slowly. It creaked and Rosie froze. What if someone was in the building? Had anyone heard her? She could make out noise, a kind of soft rustling coming from down below, but whatever was there had not been disturbed by the sound.
Rosie straightened her night vision goggles, then crept through the door. The stairs were narrow, but enough light came in from the small basement windows that the area wasn’t dark. Rosie walked silently down two steps, then crouched low and took her first look into the big room below. And then she gasped.
From where she was sitting she could see a cage, and inside it, curled on a blue pillow, was a big German shepherd with a black snout. Buddy. She’d found him at last!
Rosie flew up the stairs to the front door, ready to show her siblings she’d been right about everything the whole time. But in her haste she forgot to look outside first. When she threw the door open, she was shocked and dismayed to see the sinister man coming up the path. He was looking at his phone and hadn’t seen her yet, so Rosie stumbled backward, trying to duck back inside. But somehow she hit her wrist, the one with Dad’s watch, on the jamb and the timer began, crisp beeps that rang out loudly in the quiet air. The man’s head jerked up and he looked straight at Rosie.
Change of plans! Now that she’d been spotted, she just wanted to escape so that she wouldn’t be trapped ins
ide with him. Rosie’s heart hammered as she raced down the steps toward the bushes along the driveway. But her night vision goggles that had been up on her forehead slid down, blinding her completely. Rosie kept running, hoping she was headed for safety.
And just to be sure the man didn’t kidnap her and stuff her in a cage with the dogs, Rosie let out the loudest, shrillest scream of her life.
Tom was pulling on yet another locked window when a deafening shriek pierced the air. He started and nearly shrieked himself.
“What was that?” Charlotte asked. She had been crouched next to him, but now she jumped to her feet.
Tom wasn’t sure, but he’d just realized they had an even bigger problem. “Where’s Rosie?” he asked.
The scream came a second time, and this time it made Charlotte’s face go a scary white. “That’s Rosie,” she said in a strangled voice.
Tom’s insides were clenched up so tight he could barely breathe as he ran toward the sound. And when he rounded the corner of the house he saw something that made his chest feel like it was about to explode. It was Rosie, her night vision goggles covering her face as she stumbled straight toward the man in brown. And he was reaching down to grab her.
It was terrifying, but Tom forgot to be scared. He forgot to screech, he forgot to worry about what could happen, he forgot everything except Rosie.
“Get away from my sister!” Tom bellowed. He raced across the yard, leaped over an old flower bed, and ducked under a low tree branch, ready to do anything and everything it would take to save Rosie.
Charlotte flew after Tom, rounded the corner—and saw the man in brown grab Rosie and lift her up.
“Stop!” Tom was shouting, waving his arms.
“Put her down!” Charlotte screeched, right on his heels and flailing her arms just as wildly.
The man looked at Tom and Charlotte as they stormed up to him. “I just don’t want her to hurt herself,” he said, setting Rosie gently down and lifting the goggles off her face and onto her head.
Rosie looked around, then hugged Tom tight. Charlotte hugged them both. “He almost got me,” Rosie said, looking up at Charlotte and Tom with big eyes.
“You’re safe now,” Tom assured her, giving the man a fierce glare in case he had any ideas.
Charlotte gave the man her own glare, her arm around her sister.
He lifted up his hands. “She could have tripped over a root or run into a tree with her face covered like that,” he said. “I didn’t want that to happen.”
Charlotte wasn’t quite sure what to say or what to make of the man up close. Somehow he wasn’t so sinister in the light of day. His brown eyes were kind and they twinkled a bit as he smiled again. Plus what he said was true: They were at the edge of the wooded area, and Rosie actually could have hurt herself. “Thanks, I guess,” she said finally.
“So are you the ghosts who were hanging around here the other day, spooking me when I was trying to work?” the man asked. “Because I was beginning to think this place was haunted.”
“We’re spies, not ghosts,” Rosie said. She had let go of her brother and sister and seemed ready to reclaim her dignity.
“Spies, right,” the man said knowingly. “So have you figured out what we’re doing here?”
“You’re a dognapper and you stole Buddy,” Rosie said, now fully recovered, her eyes flashing with accusation. “I saw him in the basement, so don’t try to deny it.”
Charlotte gasped at the news that Buddy was actually there in the basement. Rosie had been right about the dogs all along!
“If Buddy is one of our former MWDs, he might be down in the kennel with the other dogs,” the man said. “But I can promise you that no dog in this facility was napped.”
“So then what is Buddy doing here?” Rosie asked, hands on her hips. “Because we saw cages and meat and you carrying a weapon, and those are very serious things.”
Charlotte was beginning to wish her sister had been slightly more traumatized by her scare so that she’d stop spilling everything.
The man’s forehead crinkled. “A weapon?”
“It was a big stick, like a bat, with wire on it,” Charlotte explained, the memory of it making the man seem slightly more threatening.
The man’s face stayed scrunched in thought for another moment, but then he grinned. “Oh, you must mean a heel stick,” he said. “It’s not wire at the end, it’s usually just a leather strap to make it easier to carry.”
Charlotte’s cheeks warmed at that—how could she have made such a rookie mistake? Though it had been a dark and rainy night.
“We use the heel sticks to teach the dogs the new skills they’ll need,” the man went on. “I’m Danny Skakov, by the way, head dog trainer and soon-to-be army officer.”
Charlotte remembered that sometimes civilians who worked for the army were given officer status if they had skills to offer up. Apparently dog-training skills had landed Mr. Skakov here. That explained his heavy brown jacket too—Charlotte knew that dog trainers had to keep themselves well padded.
The Baileys introduced themselves.
“Can you tell us why they need new skills?” Charlotte asked after they’d finished shaking hands.
“I can indeed,” Mr. Skakov said. “Do you kids know what MWDs are?”
“Military working dogs,” Rosie said quickly. “They help GIs out in the field.”
“That’s exactly right,” Mr. Skakov said, nodding. “And this is the post’s inaugural pilot program to retrain MWDs so that they can be adopted into civilian families.”
Rosie jumped up and down. “So you’re helping Buddy find a home,” she exclaimed.
“Exactly,” Mr. Skakov said, his eyes bright. “We’re helping all these dogs find homes. They did their time serving their country but suffered injuries that will prevent them from going back out in the field.”
“So they’re hurt?” Rosie asked, a crease appearing on her forehead.
“We just turned the upstairs into a veterinary clinic to help patch them up,” Mr. Skakov said. Now Charlotte understood the syringes and the metal tools: They were medical supplies. And the meat, of course, was just dog food. “And then once the dogs are ready, they come on down to the basement and we begin preparing them for their new lives as pets.”
“I bet they’ll like their new lives,” Charlotte said, thinking of how Cupcake had blossomed in her home after they’d rescued her. “They’ll be spoiled rotten.”
Mr. Skakov smiled. “That’s the plan,” he said. “We have five dogs so far and another four arriving later this week, now that we’re really up and running.”
Tom was frowning slightly. “Why don’t their handlers adopt them?” he asked.
“Many times that’s exactly what happens,” Mr. Skakov said, rubbing his head for a moment. “And we actually have a dog upstairs at the veterinary facility now, waiting for his handler to get back from the hospital in Germany. But in other cases, if the dog comes home early due to injury, the handler starts over with a new dog. Or sometimes a handler is unable to take the dog in after he or she completes their tour of duty.” He cleared his throat, and Charlotte realized there was another reason a handler might not adopt a dog: because the handler did not make it home. It was the reality that no military family ever wanted to think about, and Charlotte was glad when Tom changed the subject.
“Why was everything top secret?” he asked.
“We needed the dogs to be able to arrive here in complete quiet,” Mr. Skakov said seriously. “After what they’ve seen in military zones they startle easily and can have issues with crowds. This is a whole new setting for them, and we wanted them to feel as safe as possible during the transition time.”
That all made sense. And finally the mystery was solved! There was just one last thing that concerned Charlotte. “I hope we didn’t bother the dogs when we came and looked around.”
Mr. Skakov shook his head. “No harm done,” he assured them. “In fact, as of this morning they
are officially cleared for visitors, and part of their training is exposing them to kids. So I wonder if you three would be willing to help us out and come downstairs now to play with them!”
Tom was not surprised when Rosie started jumping up and down.
“Let’s go, let’s go!” she shouted. “I want to see Buddy!”
Tom was still reeling from all the new information about the house and the dogs, but he did know one thing: No way could they go into a strange house without permission from Mom and Dad. “We just need to check with our parents first,” he said.
“Right, of course,” the man said. “Let’s give them a call.”
Tom pulled out his phone and dialed Dad. Dad listened to Tom’s edited version of the story, then asked to speak to Mr. Skakov, who took the phone from Tom and stepped away so he could hear Dad.
“Rosie, you were right, there were dogs here,” Charlotte said, turning to their sister.
Rosie puffed up and smiled smugly. “I told you so,” she said.
Tom glanced at Charlotte and they both laughed.
“You sure did,” he said. He looked at the house, which had once seemed so sinister, bathed in shadow and abandoned. Now the trees surrounding it just provided cool shade on a hot day and the building itself just looked like, well, a building.
“I can’t believe we might finally get to meet the famous Buddy,” Charlotte said.
“Yeah, I hope Dad says we can go inside,” Tom said.
“I’m not leaving till we see Buddy,” Rosie said with such gusto that the goggles fell over her face again.
Tom laughed while Charlotte reached over and took them off her sister. “I think these have caused enough trouble for one day,” she said. “How about you just carry them?”
Rosie considered, then nodded.
“Your dad gave us the go-ahead,” Mr. Skakov said, coming back over and handing Tom his phone. “He’ll come meet you here in a few minutes. Are you guys ready to see what we’ve got going on inside this old building?”
Army Brats Page 12