by Andrew Cope
PUFFIN BOOKS
Andrew Cope did a school visit recently. He took his pet dog Lara along and she just lay there being rubbish. But everyone made a great fuss of her. She was stroked, patted, fussed and even offered a bowl of water. None of these were offered to Andrew.
During assembly, she stretched, scratched behind her ear and then fell asleep, leaving Andrew to do all the hard work. Everyone commented that it was great to have a famous dog in their school. Nobody said it was nice to have a famous author.
So, as Andrew drove home, it got him thinking. How can such a waste-of-space mutt get so much attention? Could it be that she’s really rather special? What if she was actually just like the dog in his stories? Maybe she was up to all sorts of adventures when his back was turned. What if she was the world’s one and only Spy Dog? But no, she couldn’t be, otherwise she’d be driving and he’d be sleeping in the back.
If you’d like a famous dog to visit your school, please email Lara at [email protected]. She’ll probably bring Andrew Cope with her, in which case, he wants it known that you can make a fuss of him too (and he really likes Toblerone).
For more information check out www.spydog451.co.uk
Books by Andrew Cope
Spy Dog
Spy Dog 2
Spy Dog Unleashed!
Spy Dog Superbrain
Spy Dog Rocket Rider
Spy Pups Treasure Quest
Spy Pups Prison Break
ANDREW COPE
Illustrated by James de la Rue
PUFFIN
PUFFIN BOOKS
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4P 2Y3
(a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)
Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd)
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(a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd)
Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi – 110 017, India
Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand
(a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd)
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Johannesburg 2196, South Africa
Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
puffinbooks.com
First published 2010
Text copyright © Andrew Cope, 2010
Illustrations copyright © James de la Rue, 2010
All rights reserved
The moral right of the author and illustrator has been asserted
Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser
ISBN: 978-0-14-195789-0
For Aunty Kid and Uncle Martin
Contents
1 Twenty-four Hours
2 That Dog!
3 Birthday Treat
4 A Dog’s Dinner
5 A Big Plan
6 The Race
7 An Evil Message
8 A Puppy Plan
9 Burning Metal
10 Plane Crazy
11 A Big Visit
12 Parachute Pups
13 Biscuit Brains
14 Gym’ll Fix It
15 The Twits
16 Over and Out
17 Big Trouble
18 All Aboard
19 Mayday
20 A Fatal Mistake
21 A Glimmer
22 A Slow Getaway
23 Ploughing On
24 Supermarket Sweep
25 Mr Big’s Marvellous Medicine
Postscript
1. Twenty-four Hours
Today…
‘I’m not sure I want to,’ whined Star, her puppy eyes filled with worry. ‘It’s such a long way down.’
Spud frowned at her. His sister could be so annoying at times. Here we are, about to do our first parachute jump, and my sis wants to back out! ‘Mum’s life depends on us,’ he barked gravely. ‘She has less than twenty-four hours to live. We are her only chance of survival.’
Star nodded. He’s right, she thought. We are spy pups and this time we’ve got the most important mission of our lives. She took a deep breath and stepped forward for Professor Cortex to fasten her helmet strap. Please do it up tightly!
‘Are you spy pups ready?’ bellowed the professor above the roar of the engines. Before the puppies were born the professor had trained their mum to be a spy dog and they knew he was desperate to save her.
Spud wagged hard. ‘As I’ll ever be,’ he nodded.
All eyes fell on Star. She nodded bravely but her body language told another story. She was terrified of heights. She was sure she could tackle just about anything else – sharks, lions, evil villains, enemy spies – but falling from a plane was her ultimate fear. Star and Spud had had a recent adventure that involved sliding down a zip wire and that had made her worse.
‘You OK, Agent Star?’ asked Professor Cortex. ‘You don’t have to go through with it.’
Oh yes I do, Prof, she nodded. This is a life-or-death situation. Star took a deep breath and saluted the professor. ‘Let’s do it!’
Professor Cortex reached for the aeroplane door and hauled it open. A gale howled around the cabin, blowing his papers all over the place. ‘It’s now or never!’ he yelled into the wind. ‘There’s your target.’
Spud bounded to the open door and leant out into the dark night. Lights twinkled through the wispy clouds below. The puppy followed the professor’s finger to a square patch of lights.
Spud breathed the fresh air. ‘This is sooooo exciting!’ he howled. ‘Come on, sis, let’s go for it.’
Star edged forward. ‘I’m not so sure,’ she said. ‘It’s a long way and it’s dark.’
Spud snorted in frustration. ‘This is a mission,’ he barked. ‘And we’re in it together.’
He grabbed his sister’s collar and hauled her out of the plane. Star disappeared into the night sky with a terrified yowl. Spud saluted the professor. Best go and catch her up, he wagged. ‘Geronimooooo!’ howled the spy puppy as he threw himself into the blackness outside.
The mission had started.
2. That Dog!
Three days ago…
Mr Big hated queuing. And in prison he had to queue for everything.
It’s a good job it’s only temporary, he thought as he offered his bowl to the man behind the counter.
His fellow inmate shouldn’t really have been on serving duty. He had a streaming cold and Mr Big winced as he did a massive sneeze, sending a snot bomb into the saucepan. He blew his nose into his apron and continued serving. Some green slop was ladled into Mr Big’s bowl.
‘What’s that supposed to be?’ he grunted.
‘Er, soup of the day,’ replied the server, wiping his nose on the back of his hand.
‘Which day?’ asked Mr Big. ‘It looks like something the dog’s sicked up.’
‘Probably is,’ chuckled the man, filling the next inmate’s bowl.
Mr Big knew there was no point in arguing. This wasn’t any old prison. This was the world’s most secure prison. It housed all th
e worst criminals on the planet and he was proud to be part of it. ‘Normal criminals go to wishy-washy prisons,’ he told his fellow inmates. ‘It’s an honour to be in this one. It means we’re the real deal.’
Mr Big took a piece of stale bread from the basket at the end of the line and made his way to his usual table. ‘Archie, Gus,’ he nodded, ‘how’s the soup de jour?’
‘Soup de what?’ grunted Gus.
‘It’s French, stupid,’ piped up Archie. ‘The soup of the day is fantastic,’ he smiled. ‘And we won’t be having too much more of it, will we, boss?’ he beamed. ‘Not if our plan comes off.’
‘ “When” not “if”,’ corrected Mr Big, picking up his spoon and grimacing. The server’s sneeze globule was floating in the green goo. He was used to the finer things in life. His criminal mind had brought him wealth beyond the imaginations of most people. He’d owned homes all over the world. He’d driven expensive cars and eaten in the world’s finest restaurants. And now he was reduced to queuing for snot soup. All because of a dog. That dog! But his plan was kicking into action and soon that dratted spy dog would be in big trouble. If his information was correct, she’d had puppies and settled into the good life. Mr Big wasn’t interested in the dog having a good life. Having no life was uppermost in his mind.
‘Are we clear about the next step?’ he asked, pushing his untouched soup to one side.
‘Yes, boss,’ replied Gus, finishing his own soup and reaching for Mr Big’s. He lowered his head to bowl level and took a big spoonful. ‘Yum,’ he smiled, ‘yours has got chewy bits.’
‘Never mind the chewy bits, Gus,’ sighed Mr Big. ‘Do you understand the next step of the plan?’
‘Our mole says the mutt’s birthday is tomorrow,’ he slurped. ‘The gift should already be waiting. I hope she likes it. I wrapped it myself. It looks good.’
‘Yes,’ purred the evil criminal. ‘Unlike the food in this joint, it’s good enough to eat!’
3. Birthday Treat
Two days ago…
The puppies were more excited than their mum. ‘How old are you, Ma?’ asked Star, bouncing with excitement. She had the same black and white splodges as her mother and was full of energy.
‘Twenty-one,’ she reminded her daughter. ‘Again!’
‘Is that dog years or human years?’ yapped Spud, who looked more like his father, a handsome black pedigree called Potter.
‘You work it out,’ woofed Lara. ‘And it’s rude to ask a lady how old she is!’
Star jumped on to Sophie’s knee for a cuddle but the excitement was too much and she couldn’t settle.
The lounge door swung open and in walked Mrs Cook with a beam as big as the cake she was holding. The birthday candles flickered away.
Spud sniffed the air and started to salivate. ‘I love cake,’ he howled. ‘Can I have an extra-large slice? Pleeease?’
Mr Cook conducted a chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’ for the family pet, the puppies joining in with hearty yapping. Star played along on the piano. It was difficult with paws instead of hands but she was improving fast.
Mrs Cook put the bone-shaped cake on to the coffee table and Lara beckoned to her puppies. ‘Come on then, you two,’ she woofed. ‘Help me blow out the candles and then we can open some pressies.’
Ben, the eldest of the Cook children, photographed the dogs as they took deep breaths and blew out the candles in one go. Everyone cheered and Mrs Cook cut slices for everyone. Spud wolfed his down and came back for more, his tail almost wagging him off his feet.
Lara raised an eyebrow as she passed a small second helping to him. His waistline isn’t quite in keeping with a spy dog, she thought. But I’m sure it’s just puppy fat.
‘Are you going to open your presents now, Lara?’ asked Ollie, the youngest child. ‘You’ve got loads. Especially for a dog.’
Lara eyed the pile of gift-wrapped presents and smiled a doggie smile. Most were in the shape of balls or bones so it was easy to guess what they were.
She let the puppies take turns in ripping open the paper. ‘Oh, a ball,’ woofed Lara, planting a lick on Ollie’s face. ‘How very kind.’
‘And another ball,’ wagged Star, as her mum planted a lick on Sophie.
‘A hat-trick of balls,’ woofed Spud, nosing open another parcel. ‘Good job they’re your favourite thing, Ma.’
Lara wagged happily. Not quite my favourite thing, she thought, sniffing a beautifully wrapped package. Lara couldn’t help wagging. I know that smell! This is my favourite thing. She checked the label. ‘From your BIGGEST admirer,’ she read. It’s nice to know I’ve got some admirers.
Lara slid a claw down the side of the package and her eyes lit up. My nose wasn’t tricking me! She looked at the pack of custard creams. My absolute favourite! she drooled. ‘Not for sharing,’ she woofed, wagging her paw at the puppies. ‘Especially not you,’ she glared at Spud. ‘You lot can have the cake. These are Mum’s special biscuits!’
Sophie grabbed one of Lara’s new balls and headed for the garden. ‘Anyone for a chase?’ she sang as the three dogs bounded after her.
Mrs Cook tidied up all the wrapping paper. She looked at the custard creams and smiled. ‘How thoughtful,’ she said to herself as she put Mr Big’s poisoned biscuits on the mantelpiece. ‘Maybe she can have them as a treat later.’
4. A Dog’s Dinner
Lara soon gave up chasing the new balls. One’s OK, she panted. But three are exhausting! She lay next to Sophie with her tongue hanging out of the side of her mouth. Phew, she panted, I’m struggling to keep up with the pups. She watched as Ben did one of his longest throws. Star beat her brother to the ball and then they chased each other around the garden to see who could bring it back to Ben, dropping it at his feet before waiting expectantly for the next throw.
I used to be fit, thought Lara. Not that long ago, before I became a mum. She recalled her spy-dog days. All those cross-country fitness runs, she remembered. And army assault courses! I used to be able to do five hundred press-ups; now I’d be pushed to do five!
In fact, Lara wasn’t really her name at all. Licensed Assault and Rescue Animal, code name GM451, was proud to be the first graduate from Professor Cortex’s animal spy school. ‘Top of the class,’ she panted. ‘By a mile!’ Lara put her paw to her bullet-holed ear and shuddered as she thought about some of the missions she’d been on. Danger was my middle name, she thought. I’ve captured all sorts of baddies!
Star dropped a frisbee at Lara’s feet. ‘Throw it, Mum,’ she wagged. ‘And I’ll catch.’
Lara took the frisbee in her mouth and stood on her hind legs. With an expert flick of her head she launched the disc and watched as both her puppies scampered across the lawn in hot pursuit. Star was as lean and fit as Lara had been in her heyday. She leapt high above her brother and snatched the frisbee in her jaws, giving him the runaround before dropping it at her mum’s feet.
‘Again!’ she panted.
The pups are a bundle of energy, thought Lara as her second throw got caught in a tree. Spud was on the case. He’d attached a rope to the trampoline for just such an emergency. He wasn’t as quick-thinking as his sister but he was an adventurous puppy. And he shares my liking for bullet-holed ears, thought Lara, remembering the puppies’ first mission a few weeks ago.
Spud and Star worked together to haul the trampoline underneath the tree. Sophie applauded as the puppies bounced as high as they could until Star nosed the frisbee, Spud caught it and the chase started all over again.
‘What a team,’ laughed Sophie, proud that her pets were special.
Lara had officially retired from the Secret Service to concentrate on being a family pet. Spying was a career. But now I’m a mum, she thought, adventure is off the menu! No more missions. No more baddies. Just having fun with my puppies and the kids.
Lara loved her adopted family. She cast her mind back to her days in the RSPCA kennel. I chose well, she considered. There were so many owners I could have gone home wit
h, but these are the best. I knew it the minute I set eyes on the children. Ollie was the youngest and the first to spot Lara’s special skills. He’d heard her whistling at the dog kennels but nobody had believed him. Catching his pet sitting on the toilet reading the newspaper had put things beyond doubt.
‘There’s no way this is normal doggie behaviour,’ he’d explained to his brother and sister. Ollie was also the chattiest of the children so even if Lara could speak she wouldn’t have got a word in edgeways.
Sophie was very loving and caring. Lara loved it when the little girl brushed her fur so it shone. The puppies also adored Sophie. They’d often curl up on her knee for an evening snooze. Sophie was a very bright ten-year-old and helped the pups with their accelerated learning programme. Their current topics were capital cities and Victorian history.
As the oldest child, Ben was the leader. He loved having an ex-spy dog as a pet. Lara didn’t like to boast but she knew she was extraordinary.
How many other dogs can defuse a bomb, pitch a tent and beat their owners on computer games? she thought. But it’s the simple things that I love. Lara and Ben would often spend time out on their bikes or lazing by the river. Ben had been there when his pet had caught her first trout, the picture proudly framed by Lara’s dog basket. Yes, she thought, family life is total bliss.
Lara trotted indoors to read her book. It’s not often I get any peace and quiet, she thought as she settled into her favourite armchair. She secured her spectacles on the end of her nose and opened her Harry Potter book at the foldedover page to begin reading.
Lara fidgeted, scratched behind her ear and began reading again. And again. She couldn’t get past the first paragraph. The special custard creams were in her line of vision. I shouldn’t, she thought, ignoring her craving. But the paragraph wasn’t sinking in. It is my birthday. And they are my absolute fave. And I can perhaps go for a run afterwards? she pondered.
