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

by Robert Udulutch

  “What do you mean by control over their abilities?” VB asked as he looked around the room. He turned to Spot and said, “I mean your abilities…Jesus Christ I’m talking to a dog.”

  Spot looked at Smudge. He raised an eyebrow as he said, The man just said he wants to see what control over our abilities looks like.

  Smudge looked up at Hamish and Ben, and wagged. They didn’t need a translation.

  Hamish whistled and took Barton’s tea cup from him as Ben lifted the plate of cookies away from the table. The rest of the family picked up their cups as well.

  Hamish clapped VB on the back again as he nodded to Smudge. He whispered to Mimi, “You may want to have that bottle of single malt ready, Jean.”

  Chapter 7

  After the altercation in the alley the cousins had taken the train to their favorite block of street food vendors in the gentrifying Chai Wan industrial district, across the river from their Kowloon City home.

  The narrow street was filled with clusters of hungry young professionals dodging the rain. The crowds moved among the noisy stainless steel clad food shops as they pointed at menu boards displaying pictures of egg waffles, shark soup, and fish balls.

  Above the shops a mix of metal canopies and canvas tarps funneled the pouring rain into a continuous sheet falling in the middle of the street. Mist rose from the manholes and mixed with the steam from the vendor’s tiny kitchens. It floated through the crowd and rose up past the fire escapes of the converted lofts before disappearing into the rainy Hong Kong dark. Tian found the combined smells of savory frying foods and sewage to be comforting. This bustling, carnival-like street had been their playground when they were teens, and they always seemed to gravitate back to it at the end of a night out.

  Their earlier task should have been an easy, quick favor for his cousin. Reminding a local nightclub of their upcoming rent payment had turned bad far too quickly and for no good reason. Tian’s cousin had always been a hot-head, but Harley had gotten far worse since his recent promotion.

  Tian carefully carried two steaming soup bowls to the small corner table where Harley waited. His cousin fanned the wet collar of his bright yellow and blue Brazilian soccer team jacket. “I’m fucking soaked,” he said as he flicked water at Tian and laughed, “Of course I’m not as wet as those two assholes in the alley.”

  Harley removed his sunglasses and tucked them into his Ramone’s t-shirt. The sun hadn’t been out for almost a week but Harley wore the sunglasses anyway, day or night. Tian thought his cousin was a little old to still be hanging on to the bold colors of the trendy Mong Kok style of dress but at twenty-five Harley still acted like a teenager. It was common for the Tiandihui gang members to present themselves younger than their years. The fraternity lifestyle of the gang encouraged it, and some men in their fifties still had slicked back hair and wore pointed shoes. Where Harley idolized them, Tian found them to be sad.

  An old man in the food kiosk’s tiny kitchen looked up from chopping vegetables and noticed the cousins. He also noticed the vibrant new triangle tattoo on Harley’s neck and he spoke harshly to a young girl behind the cash register. The girl bowed several times as the man waved his clever in her face. He came around the counter to Tian and Harley’s table.

  As he set down complimentary bowls of stir fried chestnuts and fried squid he said, “Good evening boys. I am sorry my daughter didn’t recognize you.” He turned to Harley and shook his hand as he bowed deeply and said, “Congratulations on taking the thirty-five oaths, your grandfather must be very proud. I trust he is well.”

  The man tried to hide his disapproving look at Tian’s small lightning bolt neck tattoo. It was in the same place as Harley’s new gang tattoo, just below the left ear. The man said, “You boys look wet, can we bring a heater?”

  “No thanks, Mr. Kih,” Tian said with a slight bow, “Grandfather is well. I will tell him you send your blessing.”

  Harley said to the man, “Bring us some of your famous siu mai, and send your daughter over here. She did so recognize me, and yet charged my cousin anyway.”

  The man nodded and retreated behind the counter. A moment later his daughter arrived with a plate of the perfectly steamed fish dumplings.

  Harley sipped his beer and asked, “How old are you now, Liat?”

  Without looking up the girl replied, “Seventeen.”

  Harley took the girl’s hand and moved her close to him. He grabbed a handful of her backside as he pulled his collar away from his neck. He tapped just below the fresh triangular tattoo with a tree inside it and waited until she looked up at it briefly before staring at her feet again.

  He said, “Leave us, and if you see my cousin again you’ll remember to treat him nicer.”

  “Yes, I will,” the girl said, and shuffled back behind the counter where she received a dirty look from her father.

  Harley watched her for a moment. He laughed as he sniffed his fingers and said, “I just don’t get you, cousin. We have the world by its firm but delicate little ass. Anything we want is literally at our fingertips and yet you choose to piss all over it.” Harley swept his hand in a wide arc that included both the small shops in front of them and the tall glass buildings in the background. He said, “I say leave the quiet life for these sheep.” He let out a loud BAAAAA that drew stares from the que waiting for their meals until they noticed Harley’s tattoo and quickly looked away. “You and I are destined for bigger things, Tian,” Harley said.

  “By bigger things,” Tian said as he dropped a few of the dumplings into his soup bowl, “You mean harassing hard working people and killing innocent businessmen?”

  “Careful cousin,” Harley said, “I appreciate you coming with me tonight but I’m a Red Pole now, you can’t speak to me like when we were kids.”

  Tian held back a laugh. He found it hard to take Harley seriously, especially with his ridiculous sunglasses hanging in front of a logo for an American band of which Harley certainly couldn’t name one of their songs. “Sorry Hao, I mean Harley, I mean mister enforcer,” Tian said with a smile.

  “You know,” Harley said, “You shouldn’t thumb your nose at that which you don’t understand. Both of our fathers, your brother, and now both of our mothers gave their lives for the family. Yes, I proudly took the oaths. I belong to the family now and it belongs to me. You should respect that, and our heritage. Nouveau-Kongers like you make me sick, Tian.”

  “Well,” Tian said, “If being traditional means I have to steal change from old men and walk around like a peacock I’m all set, thanks. I hardly knew my dad, or my mom for that matter, and you know how Liko and I were. Honestly, they kinda seemed like assholes.”

  Harley stared at his cousin for a moment, and then did a perfect rendition of his Aunt Jia’s voice, “My little Tian is going to be a champion boxer, oh no wait, my Tian will be a famous dancer, oh wait, my Tian wants to be an artist. Fuck you, Tian.”

  Tian played with his ponytail and stared into his soup, saying nothing.

  Harley drained his bowl and said, “Those you are so quick to dismiss gave you the best education and encouraged your fanciful dreams. They allowed you to hang around with those tree humping self-styled revolutionists. What the fuck are you all revolting against, exactly? Good food and the highest wages in our fucked up history?”

  Harley leaned over the table and brought his face close to his cousin’s. He said, “I don’t know, Tian. I’d say you were suffering a bad case of elitist guilt. Our grandfather built this business from the slums of Kowloon Walled City with only melee weapons and big balls. He dragged us out of that cesspool of colonial design, and you hate what that blood money has made you into. Well that’s fine, dear cousin, revolt and run away, but don’t for a minute forget where you came from, or the sacrifices made by others to get you there.”

  Harley put his sunglasses on as he got off his stool. As he walked past the table Tian grabbed his arm. “Cousin, wait,” he said, “I apologize. I do respect you, and our herit
age. I appreciate those in the family who pounded the pavement everyday while I went to the university, including you. I didn’t mean to offend you, I just don’t support what our family business has done to our own people. I hope you can understand that.”

  Harley smiled, and tossed an arm over his cousin’s shoulder. “I understand,” he said as he leaned in close and tugged on Tian’s long braid, “that the fucking lightning bolt tattoo on your neck really pisses me off, but you certainly saved my ass again tonight. Too bad you’re such a pussy, cousin, ‘cause you’re one bad ass when you let your balls out to play. I’ll see you when I get back from the states.”

  Harley kissed Tian on the forehead and shoved away from him, howling like a wolf as he flipped up his collar and disappeared into the fog and parting throngs of Hong Kong foodies.

  Chapter 8

  VB nodded for Hamish to pour a little more whisky into his teacup. He was rubbing his ears and fixing his fake beard as he recovered from Smudge’s becoming Cu Sith.

  She had jumped up onto the table and executed her hell hound routine in a blink of an eye. She shot forward, tipping VB’s chair back on its rear legs as her chest expanded and her neck muscles rippled out to twice their normal size. Her massively bulked-up forelimbs grabbed him. One of her split paws held his shoulder while the other had trapped the wrist of his gun hand as he instinctively tried to reach into his coveralls. She held him for a moment, pinning the stunned VB back against the kitchen counter as she stared at him. Her lips curled back over her six-pack muscled snout, and Mimi had to catch a cup that had dropped from a shelf when Smudge let one of her bone-rattling barks fly. She had turned up to the ceiling at the last instant to avoid blowing out the agent’s ears.

  Moments later, as she twisted her head and deflated her neck and shoulder muscles back to normal size, she hopped down from the table and the family took their fingers from their ears.

  They all smiled at VB.

  When Smudge had barked VB’s earpiece had overloaded and Comina had to snatch her headset off. When her voice clicked back into VB’s ear again she said, “I really do hope your coveralls are easy to clean…I’m not so sure about my sweat pants.”

  Both dogs then showed the agent how they could change color at will, and fluff up their fur coats into husky-mode. Spot came over and sat next to VB so he could inspect his thick, white coat. As he ran his fingers through the fur he tried to subtly described what he was seeing and feeling for Comina’s benefit. He wasn’t sure how much his lapel camera was picking up but based on her constant stream of expletives he figured she was getting enough.

  “I know some people at the advanced weapons project that are going to want to have a chat with you two,” VB said while the dogs changed back to normal.

  As Spot and Kelcy returned to flipping through VB’s tablet, Mimi said, “So now you understand our need for secrecy.”

  VB nodded, and as he took a sip Mimi said, “Mr. Barton, please tell us who’s behind all of this nonsense.”

  “Please, call me VB,” he said, “There is actually a company behind all of this nonsense. Orthus. It’s your average military industrial complex horror show, run by a thug named Semion Mogevich out of Orenburg.”

  The family looked at Spot. He raised a paw and signed, and Ben translated, “Southern Russia, near the border of Kazakhstan in the Urals.”

  The family nodded, and turned back to VB.

  VB stared at the family for a long moment and then waved for Kelcy to return his tablet. He brought up a picture of the big Russian and his daughter. Semion and Katia were dressed in fine clothes and looked to be walking into a fancy party.

  “Semion has crushed his competition,” VB said, “Often literally, and amassed a fortune by selling everything that can hurt, wound, maim, or slaughter to anyone willing to pay. His daughter is a psychotic, and oddly enough runs his outwardly legitimate interests from their offices here in New York. By legitimate, I mean they have enough senators, committees, and allied heads of state bought or blackmailed to sew up any contract they want. The parent company actually has a pretty good public reputation as they’ve managed to avoid any serious scrutiny. Semion is nuts, but he’s also very smart. He runs their shadier deals through his competition, and then ruins them or takes them over by threatening to expose them.”

  “Will they come for us here?” Ben asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Barton said, waiting for a backlash from his earpiece that didn’t come. “I think you’ll be safe enough here at the farm, and at work, and school. We’ve made it pretty clear to the bad guys that we’re watching Pembury like a hawk, and this town should be hands off.”

  “Are you?” Mimi asked.

  “Are we what?” VB asked.

  “Watching us like a hawk?” Mimi asked.

  “Yes,” Barton said. He held her stare.

  “Not quite ready to go there yet, are you VB?” Mimi asked.

  “For your safety, and ours, no,” VB said, and moved the conversation along, “There are also some things you can do around here to keep you safer. I know you have the shotgun and the handgun. I can leave you with another revolver, and introduce you to some folks if you want more.”

  The family smiled, and Dan said to Hamish, “I guess you’d better show him. If the shit does hit the fan we can say we had prior approval from law enforcement.”

  VB looked at the dogs and said, “Do I need to put my fingers in my ears?”

  Chapter 9

  As Tian watched Harley fade away into the crowd he turned and stared into his soup for a long moment.

  “Fuck,” he said, and pulled his phone from his pocket. He turned the ringer back on and noticed several messages filled the screen. He said, “Fuck,” again as he shot off down the wet street.

  Fifteen minutes later Tian pulled open a heavy metal sliding door and walked through the dark loft to a row of windows overlooking Victoria Harbor.

  He saw the ships passing in front of the bulbous Hong Kong Exposition Center on the opposite bank, and the shiny high rises behind it. Somewhere in those glass towers and sprawling industrial buildings was the street vendor he and Harley had just visited. It wasn’t far from an alley where two bouncers were being discovered by the local police. Police who would recognize it as a Tiandihui gang issue and do little more than log the bodies into the morgue.

  Rain still doused the city, and through the streaks rolling down the old glass Tian saw her sitting on the wet fire escape.

  As he walked to the farthest window he passed brightly colored Fauvist paintings in various state of completion. The large canvases, with their tightly packed squares and angular people, were inspired by the congested apartments of the old Kowloon Walled City slums.

  Pushing open the swinging window frame he stepped lightly onto the metal landing and sat next to her in the rain, dangling his feet over the ten story drop.

  “Sorry,” Tian said.

  Huge droplets hit Du Wen Cai’s beautiful face. She had stopped crying, but her eyes were still red and her face was still warm enough to fight off the chill from the rain. She didn’t look at him, she just continued to stare at the smeared lights of the city below.

  Their large studio apartment was in the heart of the arty Kowloon West district. Music from the bars rose up between the buildings where there were still masses of young people in the street from the earlier protest rally. Du Wen had chaired the rally to draw attention to sustainable development and democratic reform.

  Du Wen came from a wealthy family. She’d left her factory owner father’s home, and his business university alma-matter, to study art and join the anti-materialist movement. She had used her connections to land Tian a slot at the hot new break-out gallery where she worked. The owner of the gallery had sponsored the rally.

  “The show is cancelled,” Du Wen said as she stared out into the harbor, “They won’t be coming to dinner tomorrow to see your work.”

  “I understand,” Tian said, “I am so sorry for missin
g your rally.”

  “Our rally,” Du Wen said, “It was our rally, Tian, or so I foolishly thought.”

  Du Wen pulled her legs back from under the railing and stood up. Before pushing the window open and going into the apartment, she paused. She turned and put her warm, tiny hands on Tian’s strong jaw. She looked down at him with her huge brown eyes.

  Tian stared up at Du Wen’s beautiful, wet face. As the lights from the busy street below danced in her eyes he fell for the stoic resolve in them all over again. There was never anger, or fear. There was always just that strength, and from time to time a few tears that he was responsible for.

  She said, “I love you. I love you like the rain loves the sun. I love you like the streets love the trees. I cannot be me without you, but I cannot marry you and I can’t be with you any longer. I don’t care about the broken promises, or the nights away. I don’t care about them because I understand them, Tian. I understand how hard it is to leave a family who has done so much for you, and at the same time is everything you despise. But I have reconciled with mine, and moved on. You have not. I love you because you are honest and loyal, but I cannot marry you unless you are honest and loyal to yourself first.”

  Du Wen stepped through the window. Before she let it swing closed she said, “You need to go. You need to find whatever it is you are running towards, or away from, and figure out what your relationship with your family, and with me, should be. When you figure that out maybe we may see each other again.”

  Chapter 10

  Hamish lifted the rear glass door of his truck and dropped the tailgate. He reached in and snapped on the overhead light, and then flipped aside a moving blanket.

  VB whistled.

  Spread out in a neat row were three assault rifles with combination night vision and infrared scopes. Next to them were a dozen high capacity magazines, and various flashlight and silencer attachments. There was also a pair of Glock automatic pistols and police style utility belts with holsters. At the front of the truck bed were a stack of bullet proof tactical vests, and two service dog vests with winter camouflage side panels.