Let Slip the Pups of War: Spot and Smudge - Book Three

by Robert Udulutch

  Spot and Smudge

  Book 3

  Let Slip the Pups of War

  Robert Udulutch

  The Spot and Smudge series

  To discover more about the books,

  the real Spot and Smudge,

  and the author, please click or visit:

  Rudulutch.com

  Copyright © 2016, Robert Udulutch

  Cover Art and Design © 2016, Robert Udulutch

  All rights reserved

  This novel is a work of fiction, except for the parts that are somewhat based on truth.

  It contains a couple of bad words and mature themes that not all readers will appreciate.

  For my Raftigan girls, Nikki, Lewis, Chelsea, Morgan…and of course Ally

  “Enigiets kan gevang word wanneer deur twee honde agtervolg” (Afrikaans)

  “Noma yini sabanjwa lapho engamtholi izinja ezimbili” (Zulu)

  “Anything can be caught when pursued by two dogs”

  - African Proverb

  BOOK ONE

  Cry ‘Havoc!’…

  Chapter 1

  “Your bum’s out the window, dear daughter, we’re not moving back to Scotland,” Mimi said as she spun a tea bag string around a spoon and pinched its warm remnants into her cup. “Don’t mistake me, I’d love to go for a stroll along the Clyde each morning but I suspect it would be the very first place someone might look for us.”

  “Maybe so, but we could hide in plain sight,” Aila said, “You can’t swing a muckle coo there without hitting another Walker.”

  Mimi shook her head and said, “Would never work lass, they could find Hamish by just asking any sot in a pub.” Her voice deepened and she mimicked a Glaswegian bloke, “Akh, yeh be searching for that numpty Hamish? Aye, the bawheed was just here. I’m nae clype, but he’s full pissed and took a donner tae the wee chippie up the close for a poke.”

  Aila laughed and said, “So we’ll be safe as long as they don’t bring a translator.” She was opening a bag of cookies but paused to lean across the kitchen table. Tapping the screen of the tablet in front of Mimi she said, “So how about we shoot for something a little farther afield?”

  The map on the screen moved to the south and west, and she spread her fingers to zoom in on two long, thin islands.

  “New Zealand?” Mimi asked, looking down through her reading glasses, “I’ve always wanted to go there.” She moved the map around with a finger and said, “You know the whole south of that country was invaded by us Caledonians, and we still have relatives from your dad’s side in Dunedin.”

  As Aila placed a small plate of ginger snaps on the table she heard a single quiet bark from the back of the farm house. She leaned over the sink and looked through the large kitchen window box to see two coyotes standing in the snow at the edge of the goat pen.

  Both of the wild dogs had similar thick gray and brown winter coats. The slightly wider one yapped again when it noticed Aila watching. The animal pointed its snout down the driveway and pawed the snow.

  Aila waved and the dogs retreated behind the pen fence. The larger coyote lay down in the snow, watching the house as the other darted off. It ran away from the pen and into the white field, heading for the woods to the north of the farm.

  A light snow had fallen in the morning adding an inch to the dozen already on the ground. The remaining heavy clouds settled low, obscuring the tops of the trees and painting the afternoon a gloomy gray.

  The hiding coyote was hard to distinguish from the browns and mottled white snow at the rear of the pen’s fence, and the running wild dog disappeared into fog as soon as it hit the tree line.

  Mr. Watt, the family’s goat and official greeter, poked his head out from the shed and came down the walkway to the pen’s gate. He looked down the driveway and let out a bleat. The goats and chickens had gotten used to the coyotes patrolling the farm so he just ignored them.

  As Aila took her coat from one of the hooks near the kitchen door she grabbed Mimi’s small caliber revolver from a cubby, flipped open the tumbler, and snapped it closed again.

  Aila said, “That was Birl yapping, someone’s coming up the drive.”

  Mimi got up from the table and went to the hall closet. She hefted Papa’s shotgun and joined Aila at the kitchen door.

  Aila opened the storm door and leaned out into the cold, late January breeze while she held the pistol behind her back. “It’s them!” she said, smiling as she dropped the gun into her coat pocket before running out into the driveway.

  Uncle Hamish’s big maroon pickup truck crunched over the snow and pulled into the parking circle in front of the goat pen as Mr. Watt bobbed his head and wagged his stubby little tail happily.

  Chapter 2

  “How unfortunate,” Brother Sacarius said with his back to Semion.

  He stood at his ornate office windows with his hands clasped behind his back. The elderly priest looked down on the school’s snow covered courtyard as a small group of students trotted single file towards the rectory building. He said, “The boy was one of our finest, but in our chosen calling the unfortunate does happen. You shouldn’t blame yourselves, my son, I am confident you and your daughter took the proper precautions. I can only assume the wilds of Quebec are a dangerous and unpredictable place.”

  Semion felt his blood rise but he let the priest’s jab go. He didn’t have time to spar and learned many years ago to not test the man. The big Russian stayed silent while he absentmindedly ran his fingers over his wrist, feeling a scar obtained in this very office many decades ago.

  “Of course we can accommodate your request,” the priest said, “I have received your deposit but there is a small matter of our imperilment surcharge. As it appears you’re now asking my flock to do more than just carry Katia’s handbags we need to move you into a more appropriate tier of our donation strata.”

  Semion nodded and said, “Totally understandable. An inevitable cost of moving forward with my larger plan, brother.”

  “So Canada was part of a plan?” Brother Sacarius said, and didn’t wait for an answer, “Right, so as we’re agreed on terms I have selected and prepared a team for you to meet. I trust they will impress, where perhaps my last asset assigned to you may have fallen short.”

  Semion remained silent.

  The priest finally turned to face Semion, disappointed. His most accomplished student wasn’t taking his bait today. He so enjoyed jousting with the tough Russian and thought perhaps a comment about his less than perfect fitting new oxfords would do the trick. Brother Sacarius’ smartphone vibrated in his robe pocket and he shelved the shoe insult for later. He didn’t need to look at his phone, it was indicating the camera outside his office door had picked up the students approaching. He tapped on the phone and the office door clicked softly before swinging open.

  “Come, join us my fine young novitiates,” Brother Sacarius said as he beckoned to the reception room. Five students entered in a line and stood at rest attention just inside the door. They were all tall and very sporty. Semion could see the muscles under their blazers, even on the one young woman.

  He caught the priest flashing a scowl at her as he crossed the office. The young woman looked down to see a small smudge of muddy snow remnant on the toe of her shoe. She gently lifted her foot and wiped it clean on the back of her pant leg.

  Semion noticed all of the students wore the signature footwear endemic to the academy’s graduates. Once a student assassin neared the completion of their training Brother Sacarius outfitted them with bespoke tactical boots. The students were free to select the designer and the style, provided the ex
pensive custom boots looked like a dress shoe to the casual observer, and the end product met with the brother’s strict performance criteria.

  Semion rose and joined the priest in front of the impressive line of students. Although superbly dressed, they were all tough looking and most had a tattoo peeking out from under a collar or cuff.

  The young woman was taller than the rest, but still a full head shorter than the mountain that was Semion. He looked her up and down, from her tight blonde bun to her Berluti climbing boots that had been customized in the form of a fashionable medium heel scarpin.

  As the office door began to close by itself Semion said, “So, young lady, please tell me the effective range of the one-fourteen hellfire when launched from a Sikorsky Raider…”

  Chapter 3

  Dan reached out and snatched his passing son, pulling him onto his knees. Ben laughed and wiggled from side to side, almost dropping his plate of mince and totties.

  Ben noticed a raw looking cut on one of his father’s knuckles and asked, “Dad, who’d you punch?”

  “The rear brakes on Papa’s waggoneer, and they hit back,” Dan said, “I missed you dude, but you’re getting big.” He pulled the boy in for a hug before dumping Ben back into his seat at the table.

  Hamish had been watching Dan. He enjoyed his nephew-in-law’s company, but had always thought of him as a bit of a city poof. Hamish had helped Papa and Dan install Mimi’s new kitchen window box a few summers ago and they had teased Dan about almost dropping it. As Hamish and Papa drove in the screws holding the window flange they poked fun at Dan’s shaking arms, calling them ‘peedy pistools’, or little guns.

  Although Dan was almost able to look Hamish in the eye he had always been much trimmer, but Hamish could see the accountant had bulked up more than a little. The muscles of Dan’s arms and shoulders were well defined even under his dress shirt. He tossed Ben around like a rag doll, and the eleven year old was big for his age. Hamish hadn’t seen Dan since Papa’s funeral the previous spring and was pleased to see him sporting a more rugged look.

  Dan saw Hamish had put a foot up on one of the kitchen chairs and was rubbing his thigh. He also noticed the big Scot had been giving him the once-over. Over the top of his glasses Dan said, “That scratch giving you trouble?”

  Hamish had taken a bullet through the leg during the recent debacle in Canada. “Aye,” he said as he looked at the row of empty tea cups lined up on the kitchen table, “It really sets to throbbin’ when I’m dying of thirst.”

  “Away and boil your heed, you big numpty,” Aila said as she took the steaming kettle off the stove.

  Dan smiled and said, “You guys made great time.”

  “Yeah,” Ben said as he dug his fork into his plate, “Unc drives like the next town’s brothel closes in half an hour.”

  Mimi stopped scooping sugar into the cups her daughter was filling with hot water, and fixed Hamish with a look. “Far too much time spent with you,” she said, wagging the spoon at her brother-in-law.

  “Aye, that’s for sure,” Hamish said as he winked at Ben.

  Mimi finished scooping and said to Ben, “Well my wee man, I’m glad you’re home with us. I swear you’ve grown two inches.” She added some milk to the steaming cups and handed Hamish one before coming around the kitchen table to inspect the healing scrape on Ben’s chin. As she shook her head she shot Hamish another disapproving look.

  “He’s no worse for the wear, Jean, and you can’t deny you birds dig scars,” Hamish said.

  Mimi went to the kitchen counter and returned with a plate of the minced beef and potato mixture. She kissed Hamish’s gray-bearded cheek as she put the plate down in front of him. After handing him a fork she held his hand for a moment and said, “That we do, dear brother of mine. Thanks for taking such good care of my grandween, and delivering him only slightly tarnished.”

  “So what was the best part of your adventure?” Aila asked as she sat down next to her son with her own plate.

  “Well,” Ben said around a mouthful, “Had to be the church, definitely the church. Or maybe it was volunteering at the local convalescent shelter. I don’t know Unc, would you say that was the best part? For me it’s a toss-up between that and visiting the children’s wing at the hospital.”

  “So basically,” Dan said, “You hung out at The Grub, shot up stuff at the rifle club, chased wolves, camped out in the mountains, and farted and ate a lot of game. Is that about right?”

  “Pretty much,” Ben said, gulping his milk, “except for some other minor stuff like being attacked by police dogs, getting kicked out of the bar by the local sheriff, and dancing with an amply endowed young woman of questionable morals. Oh, and at one point we had to take out some killer wolves and some bad guys. You know, typical Walker family vacation stuff.”

  The kitchen door swung open and a medium sized black dog rushed in. He caught the door before it banged against the wall and then closed it with a hip check. He started to cross the kitchen floor when Mimi said, “Here now young man, have you forgotten all of your manners?” She shook her head at the dog, and then at Hamish again.

  Spot stopped, shrugged an apology, and impatiently backtracked through his wet footprints. He made a show of giving his feet a wipe using a towel hung behind the door and then hurried over to Aila’s chair. He put his front paws in her lap and stood up next to the table. She gave him a big hug and fed him a spoonful of meat and carrots from her plate as he spread open one of his split front paws.

  Spot looked at Ben as he chewed, and manipulated his dexterous black fingers to form words in their modified version of sign language.

  Ben jumped up from the table as he translated for Spot, “Lindsay’s coming up the drive with Kels!”

  Mimi followed him to the kitchen door. She draped an arm over his shoulder, and while they waited for the little pickup truck to come crunching up the driveway they watched Spot’s sister Smudge in the snowy field beyond the pen. She was having a conversation with one of the local coyotes. Her all black coat stood out against the white, where his gray and light brown fur was harder to pick out in the snowy haze of late afternoon. As the headlights from Lindsay’s small pickup truck crept slowly up the farm’s long driveway Smudge nodded and the wild dog moved away quickly, disappearing into the shadows behind the barn.

  Smudge trotted to the front of the pen to greet the pickup, wagging as it stopped next to Hamish’s truck. The passenger door flung open and an excited Kelcy bent to pound Smudge’s sides playfully, and she got sloppily kissed in return. She paused to reach into the pen to give Mr. Watt a quick rub before she and Smudge ran for the house.

  When Kelcy came through the kitchen door Ben dove at her and she pulled her brother into a great bear hug. Spot and Smudge pounced and the pups and kids ended up in a wagging, laughing pile on the kitchen floor.

  Mimi shared a smile with Aila and Dan. It had been nice having Kelcy all to themselves for a few weeks, but the farmhouse had been far too quiet without her grandson and her hairy beasts underfoot.

  The adults watched as the kids and dogs stopped rough-housing and paused for a long moment with all of their foreheads touching. The pups reached up to tenderly hold the back of Ben and Kelcy’s heads, and the kids did the same to the pups.

  “I missed you guys, don’t ever fucking scare me like that again,” they heard Kelcy whisper. Ben and the dogs nodded softly against her.

  When the kids and dogs finally untangled themselves Mimi wiped away a tear and nodded another silent thank you to Hamish, and his broad smile sent the same sentiment back to her.

  Hamish thought their heartwarming embrace looked like the most natural thing in the world, and realized it would have warranted a significant double-take less than a week ago.

  A red-eyed Kelcy gave each of the pups another squeeze before heading over to Uncle Hamish for a hug. “Hey Unc, I thought we had all agreed you’d leave this one in the great white north,” Kelcy said from his lap, tipping her head towards
her brother who was still getting licked on the kitchen floor.

  “Aye,” Hamish said. He noted his grand-niece was starting to look more and more like her pretty mom, and had also seemed to grow a few inches in all the right directions since last he saw her. “We tried our best…like a bad penny that one,” he said.

  As Lindsay’s truck backed into the turn-around, and her headlights washed across the big kitchen window box, Mimi cracked the door and raised a finger for her to wait. Ben put his coat on and she sent him out with leftover mince and totties and caramel shortbread bars.

  Lindsay’s window slid down as Ben crunched through the snow with the pups in tow. She welcomed him home with a high-five as he passed her the bag of food.

  “Didn’t we tell you bears don’t like to be kissed?” she asked as she looked at the healing scrape on his chin.

  “She doesn’t call, she doesn’t write…” Ben said.

  “…she’s unbearable,” they both said at the same time.

  Lindsay laughed and smiled at him. She said, “Good to be home?”

  “Yeah,” Ben said as he nodded at the house, “can’t believe I actually missed them.”

  “And just in time for your birthday, right?” she asked.

  “Yep, it’s coming up,” Ben said.

  “Well I’ll make sure to stop by, and you can tell me all about your adventure. Say thanks to your Mimi for me,” she said as she patted the bag on the passenger seat.

  Ben nodded, and the dogs each got a pat before she waved to Mimi, honked, and rolled slowly away.

  Ben and the pups continued across the turn-around and he stepped over the snow pile left by the Wagoneer’s plow. As he walked down the side of the pen in the deep snow Ben watched the lights from Lindsay’s little truck disappear down the dark road.