Spy Dog: Rocket Rider

by Andrew Cope

  They were just about to give up when the door was answered by a lady with a vacuum cleaner in her hand. She wiped her forearm across her face, scraping the strands of hair away. ‘Yes, children?’ she enquired, switching off her machine. ‘What can I do for you?’

  Ben felt awkward. ‘Erm, do you have a Mr Jetski staying here?’ he asked. ‘It’s just that I’m doing a project about space and I wanted to chat to him.’

  The lady eyed the children suspiciously. ‘Space, m’dear?’ she asked. ‘What do you mean “space”?’

  ‘We think he’s an expert on space travel. You know, man on the moon stuff,’ chirped Ben.

  The lady thought for a moment. Mr Jetski’s room was plastered with pictures of spacecraft and planets. ‘Are you a relative?’ she asked.

  ‘No, just an admirer. He’s had an exciting life and our friend Lara knows him and we need to see him. That’s all,’ blurted Ben.

  The lady didn’t look convinced. ‘And where’s your “friend” Lara?’ she asked.

  ‘Er, I’m Lara,’ said Sophie, stepping forward to hold out her hand. She hated lying but she knew how important this was to their pet.

  Lara gasped silently from inside the suitcase and she heard Ollie squeak as he received a nudge in the ribs from his sister.

  The lady shook ‘Lara’s’ hand. She was busy and didn’t have time to stand around talking. ‘Come on in, then,’ she said. ‘Mr Jetski needs as many admirers as he can get. I’m afraid he’s in a bit of a bad way. I can let you into his room but can’t let you stay long. He had a massive stroke six months ago and hardly ever speaks. To be honest, it’s sad to see the man in such a state. Maybe your visit will do him some good.’

  Lara crossed her paws for luck as the suitcase followed the lady along the corridor. She could hear the children’s trainers squeaking on the shiny floor and the smell of hospitals reminded her of her time as a spy dog when she had been seriously ill.

  They went past a big lounge and Ollie peered in at the elderly people sitting watching TV. The advert for Jimmy’s Tartan Suncream was blaring out with its annoying jingle. One old lady was sitting in her chair lifting her legs up and down, doing a sort of armchair aerobics, but the others looked as though they were snoozing.

  ‘He’s not in there,’ said the lady, marching onwards. ‘He’s too ill to leave his room. By the way,’ asked the lady, ‘what’s in the case?’

  ‘Erm, holiday stuff,’ said Sophie quickly, trying to sound carefree. ‘We’re going on holiday after we’ve met Mr Jetski.’

  ‘Oh,’ said the lady. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Devon,’ ‘Blackpool,’ ‘Australia,’ the children said at the same time.

  ‘We’re doing a kind of tour,’ smiled Ben nervously. ‘Starting in Devon and ending in Australia.’

  The lady stopped at a door at the end of the corridor, hand on the handle. ‘Gosh, that’s quite a holiday. Now,’ she soothed, ‘I don’t want you to be shocked at what you see. Please bear in mind that Mr Jetski is a very old man indeed. Not only is he old but also very ill. He’s lost most of his speech and movement. But he can understand you all right. It’s just that you might have to do all the talking.’ She took a deep breath, put on a positive face and breezed through the door. ‘Good morning, Mr J,’ she chirped. ‘I’ve brought you some visitors – some children. They say they’re big fans of yours. This young man is doing a project about space travel or something. Is that OK? I’ll leave you with Lara and, er …’

  ‘Ben,’ said Ben, ‘Oh, and this is Ollie.’

  ‘I’ll leave you and Lara and Ben and Ollie together for five minutes so they can talk to you …’ she glanced at Ben, ‘for a school magazine or something.’

  Ben nodded and the lady left the room as swiftly as she entered, closing the door behind her. The room was almost empty, except for a bed, table, wheelchair and a small armchair by the window. But the walls were covered in photos of rockets and planets. Ollie’s eyes lit up with excitement.

  Mr Jetski was sitting near the window looking out over the garden.

  Ben was beginning to wonder what on earth he was going to say. And Mr Jetski couldn’t say much, so it was going to be a very one-sided conversation. He approached the old man hesitantly. ‘Hello, Mr Jetski,’ he began. ‘Or is it OK to call you “Oleg”?’

  There was no response. Mr Jetski continued to gaze out of the window, watching the birds peck at a bag of nuts hanging from the bird table. He was a rather shrunken man with a bushy grey moustache, furry eyebrows and a bald head.

  ‘I don’t think he can hear you,’ hissed Sophie.

  Ben looked round at his sister, frowning for her to shush. ‘But the thing I really wanted to tell you was that we’ve brought someone special to see you. A dog.’ Ben thought he saw a flicker of emotion from the old man’s face and decided to carry on.

  ‘I see you like dogs, Mr Jetski,’ he said, his eyes drawn to a photo of a black and white dog in a picture frame. ‘We’ve had to smuggle her into your room because dogs aren’t allowed. She’s hidden,’ he continued, nodding at the suitcase. ‘And she’s a spy!’

  And uncomfortable, whined a small noise from inside the bag. Can someone please let me out!

  Ben waited for a response. His voice dropped in disappointment. ‘I just thought you ought to know, that’s all.’

  ‘Mr Waterski, you had her when she was a puppy,’ smiled Ollie. ‘When she was dead cute.’

  What do you mean ‘was’? huffed Lara.

  ‘Laika’s great-granddaughter?’ mumbled Mr Jetski, lifting an ancient hand and pointing to the framed picture.

  Sophie wheeled the suitcase over to the window and got to work on the zip.

  Lara uncoiled her body and stretched, thankful to be out of the confined space. Who’s Laika? she thought.

  Ben picked up the black and white picture and turned it towards Lara. ‘Your great-grandma,’ he grinned. ‘Look, silly ears and everything.’

  Lara was about to get annoyed when there was a knock at the door and in breezed a nurse, looking faintly surprised that the children were there.

  Lara dived behind a curtain and held her breath. If I’m discovered we’ll be thrown out for sure.

  The nurse was carrying what looked like a child’s juice bottle, shaking it vigorously. ‘Good morning, Mr Jetski,’ she shouted, as though he was deaf. ‘I see you have visitors. I’ve brought you your tea, dear,’ she continued, showing him the baby bottle. No response. ‘I’ll just leave it here for a minute to cool down and then come back and feed you, all right?’ said the nurse, as if speaking to a child. ‘Or do you want one of your grandchildren to feed you? And it’s terribly gloomy in here. Do you want me to let some sunshine in for you?’ She took hold of the curtains, threatening to reveal the family pet.

  Lara’s paw was over her face. No, no, please don’t spoil everything! she cringed.

  ‘It’s OK,’ blurted Sophie. ‘We’ll do that for him when we leave.’

  The lady nodded and let go of the curtain. The children were filled with relief as she left the room.

  ‘Phew, that was close,’ gasped Sophie.

  It’s not over yet, thought Lara as she emerged from behind the curtain. I may have been hidden from her, but not him! The gardener had spied her in Mr Jetski’s room and the children watched as he marched up to the window and banged loudly.

  ‘What’s that dog doing in there?’ came the muffled voice. ‘This is a dog-free zone. Please open the window so I can talk to you.’

  Lara knew it was rude but she couldn’t help sticking her paws in her ears and waggling them at the man. You’re out there and I’m in here, she crowed. The gardener’s face fell into a look of silent shock as Lara stuck out her long doggie tongue and pulled her silliest face before swishing the curtains shut.

  ‘Fine, I’ll come inside and get you out, mutt!’ came the gardener’s muffled voice from behind the closed curtains.

  ‘Oh no,’ said Ben.

  Lara calcula
ted that they had about ninety seconds to get any information they could from Mr Jetski. This is so tough! She stood in front of her former owner and looked him over. She had only been a puppy when she’d been taken away from him but a few of her earliest memories suddenly came flooding back. He had been so kind to her and she knew he loved her. He’s always been ill, even in the old days. Lara remembered helping him around the house, running errands and doing the crossword together. But he looks so much older than I remember. Lara jumped up and put her paws on the old man’s knees, planting a wet lick on his cheek.

  ‘He’s smiling,’ shouted Ollie. ‘He knows you, Lara!’

  But will he be able to help me? thought Lara, listening to the footsteps marching down the hall. Before we’re discovered.

  6. Decision Time

  Lara stared at her first owner. There’s certainly a spark in his eye, she thought. The gardener was shouting as he came down the corridor and she knew time was short. If we’re caught, we’re going to be in big trouble.

  ‘Lara says you looked after her when she was a puppy,’ explained Ben. ‘She’s keen to know her history. She’s a spy dog, see. The only one of her kind. She’s been taught by Professor Cortex but she was special even before he trained her. Lara really wants to know why. And she wants to know if she’s got a family.’

  ‘I mean, she’s got us,’ added Sophie. ‘And we love her to bits. But has she got any doggie family? You know, brothers and sisters or a mum and dad of her own?’

  And we’ve got about fifteen seconds before we have a big problem, urged Lara, listening as the stomping got louder.

  Everyone stared at Mr Jetski. Lara’s big brown eyes were pleading. If there’s anything you can share with me, please do.

  ‘The diary in the desk,’ mumbled the old man in a thick Russian accent. ‘It has whole story. Very special dog.’

  Sophie opened a drawer and picked out an old leather book. ‘This?’

  The old man nodded slowly, the effort almost too much for him. ‘Take it,’ he croaked. ‘You must go now.’

  Ben stuffed the diary into his jacket pocket and looked at Lara for inspiration.

  Well, we can’t go that way, she thought, listening to the footsteps pounding ever closer. Sophie locked the door to buy some time but there was a loud knock and the children looked at each other in alarm. The door handle turned and rattled in frustration.

  ‘Let us in,’ bellowed a man’s voice. ‘We know you’re in there. Let us in or we’ll break down the door.’

  Yikes, thought Lara. There’s only one other way out. She helped Ben open the window as wide as it would go. A bit of a tight squeeze, frowned Lara as she looked at the gap. She breathed in and wondered if it was too tight.

  Sophie and Ollie were first through. ‘Run!’ said Ben. ‘Don’t wait for us. You next, Lara. I can help you.’

  Lara nodded and started to squeeze through the small gap. Her barrel chest got stuck and her back legs kicked wildly as she struggled through the window. She landed with a bit of a thud. Made it, she woofed, dusting herself down.

  Ben pushed the empty suitcase through the gap and started to climb through after it. Come on, lad, Lara urged. By the sound of it the gardener is throwing himself at the door. It won’t be long before it gives way.

  Ben glanced at Mr Jetski, to see the old man’s eyes shining in excitement. ‘Go,’ he urged. ‘You must go quick.’

  Ben mouthed a ‘thank you’ and wriggled out of the window as Mr Jetski pulled a cord and closed the curtains. Ben could see his sister and brother up ahead, sprinting across the lawn. Lara had taken off like a greyhound and climbed the wall. She dangled her paw, ready to help the children up. Ben ran faster than he’d ever run before, soon catching Ollie and grabbing his hand. His younger brother had a terrified look on his face.

  ‘Don’t worry, mate,’ panted Ben. ‘Lara will take care of us.’ He threw the suitcase over the wall and the three children scrambled after it, falling down to the other side with Lara.

  Just at that moment, the door splintered and the gardener fell into Mr Jetski’s room. He was followed by a security guard and two nurses. ‘Where are they?’ demanded the gardener. ‘That pesky dog and those kids?’ The security man checked under the bed and behind the curtains.

  ‘Nobody,’ he confirmed. ‘Just one very old man. And he can’t tell us much! Are you sure the mutt was in this room?’

  ‘Course I’m sure,’ snapped the gardener. ‘It pulled a face at me … like this,’ he said, sticking his thumbs in his ears and waggling his fingers.

  The nurses exchanged worried glances. Maybe the gardener had been in the sunshine too long? One of the nurses closed the window and they all left to check a few other rooms.

  Oleg Jetski sat alone, staring at the picture of Laika, a huge grin spread across his face.

  Ben led his brother and sister to a cafe with a garden. Lara sat outside while they ordered lemonade and then joined her, Sophie carrying the treasure tightly in her hand. The leather-bound diary was put in front of Lara and all eyes fell on the family pet.

  ‘It’s your history, Lara,’ said Ben. ‘So you should be the first to read it.’

  I’ve waited so long to find out who my parents are, thought Lara. Here we go …

  The children sipped their drinks in silence as Lara opened the book with her paw and read all about her secret history.

  Lara and Potter snuggled up that evening after the neighbourhood watch meeting. The dog basket was perfect for two. Lara wasn’t sure where to start. In fact, she wasn’t even sure if Potter was interested or would understand. Lara always had to tell herself that Potter was an ordinary dog and she shouldn’t expect too much.

  ‘I’ve found out about my family,’ she woofed ever so quietly in the dark. There was silence, except for the humming of the fridge.

  ‘I bet they’re really special dogs,’ replied Potter eventually. ‘Which explains why you’re so amazing.’

  ‘My grandmother was certainly very special,’ agreed Lara. She told Potter everything that was in Mr Jetski’s diary. How she was related to Laika, the first animal in space. ‘She was my great-grandmother.’ About how Laika was identified as superintelligent, which was why she was chosen for the mission. And how the Russians had kept Laika’s story a secret before eventually reporting that she’d died. ‘But she didn’t die in space,’ explained Lara. ‘The diary says she landed safely. Splashed down in the ocean. The Russian government were very secretive because they didn’t want anyone else to get their hands on this superdog.’ Lara knew the diary off by heart. ‘And a Russian astronaut, Oleg Jetski, has kept the line of dogs going through a special breeding programme. He was my first owner but he’s very old now,’ explained Lara. ‘Too old to talk very much. But the diary says I have seven brothers and sisters.’ Lara fell silent. The fridge did too.

  ‘And?’ woofed Potter. ‘A mum and dad?’

  ‘The diary says my dad is still alive. He’s called Leo and works as a rescue dog in the Scottish highlands, near their highest mountain, Ben Nevis. Strong as an ox, according to the diary.’

  ‘And what are you going to do?’ asked Potter. ‘You already have a family that you love.’

  ‘What would you do?’

  Potter was thoughtful. ‘That’s not for me to say,’ he added wisely. It’s something you have to decide.’

  Potter drifted off to sleep. Lara’s ear stood upright and her eyes shone in the dark. There was only one thing a spy dog could do.

  Lara met the professor in his school laboratory early on Sunday morning. ‘Good morning, GM451,’ he said, without looking up from his Bunsen burner. ‘What can I do for you?’

  No point beating around the bush, thought Lara, dropping the diary out of her mouth on to the table in front of the old man. She went to the filing cabinet and opened it. The professor watched the dog rummage around before selecting the file marked ‘GM451: Confidential’. He coughed and looked a little sheepish. ‘Ah,’ he spluttered, ‘you�
�ve been doing your homework. I can explain,’ he gabbled, not knowing where to start.

  My family, Prof. I’ve been doing some spy-dog investigations. Why didn’t you tell me about my family? Lara took a pencil in her mouth. My dad in scotland, she scribbled. I need to meet him.

  ‘Impossible,’ spluttered the professor. ‘That’s ancient history, GM451. Your future is here with the Cooks, not in Scotland with a total stranger.’

  Lara’s mouth gripped the pencil again. Need to c him will u help?

  ‘Out of the question, GM451!’ snapped the professor. ‘There’s nothing to be gained and everything to be lost. And besides, it’ll probably end in a wild goose chase.’

  OK, thought Lara, at least I know where I stand. But this wild goose intends to chase.

  The professor fussed around Lara, trying to persuade her to change her mind. He tutted as she filled a backpack with an assortment of gadgets. He could see she was going to Scotland no matter what he said.

  Lara turned to leave and the professor shouted for her to stop. ‘It’s clear your mind’s made up,’ he shouted. ‘But if you’re going to meet your father, at least take this.’ He held up a piece of material. ‘It’s the arctic suit. If I can’t stop you, the least I can do is protect you. It’ll keep out the cold.’

  He packed the suit into Lara’s backpack before giving her an awkward hug. Lara nodded her appreciation and bounded off. She had a lot of miles to cover.

  7. Stowaway

  The suncream jingle blasted out and Jimmy held his smile for a full thirty seconds. His eyes took on a look of panic as the smile started to hurt. The cameraman gave the thumbs up and Jimmy relaxed, his face sinking into a more comfortable slump. ‘Thanks goodness for that,’ he shouted. ‘All that smiling was killing me. I hate smiling!’ Jimmy stormed out of the TV studio, glad that another advertisement was finished. It was all part of his master plan. The forced smiles would be worth it when the millions came rolling in.