Survival Camp

by Andrew Cope

  ‘I can’t do that, Mr Guzzler,’ said Pete.

  ‘What are you? A man or a mouse?’ yelled Gaz.

  ‘I’m a miner,’ said Pete with dignity. ‘I don’t hurt puppies, or kidnap children. I mine for gold.’

  ‘Not any more, you don’t,’ snarled Gaz. ‘You’re fired!’

  ‘No. I quit,’ said Pete. ‘Come on, men.’

  The twelve frogmen marched off to a nearby minibus, climbed in and drove off, leaving Gaz standing on his own.

  ‘I think you’re outnumbered,’ barked Lara.

  Gaz Guzzler pulled a gun from his pocket. As he raised his arm, a furry black and brown streak flew out of the bushes behind him and fastened her teeth round his wrist.

  ‘Owww!’ shrieked Gaz, dropping the gun. ‘Gerroff!’

  Hero hung on, growling deep in her throat, until X stepped out of the shadows, picked up Gaz’s gun and signalled for her to let go.

  ‘Does he ever take off that balaclava?’ whispered Spud, nudging his sister.

  Star giggled. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Time to use this,’ said Gaz, hooking a gold chain out from under his shirt and holding up a little gold box for everyone to see.

  ‘A bad-taste gold medallion?’ woofed Lara. ‘I don’t see how that’s going to help him.’

  ‘This is a remote control,’ said Gaz. ‘It starts a timer that is attached to a bomb.’

  ‘A bomb!’ gasped Mrs Cook. ‘Where?’

  ‘Stuck to the side of Clearwater dam,’ said Gaz. ‘If I press this little ruby here, the timer starts ticking. Twenty minutes later – kaboom! The dam bursts and millions of tons of water pour down on to the towns and villages below.’

  ‘You can’t do that, Garry!’ cried Mrs Guzzler.

  ‘I can!’ laughed Gaz. ‘But – I won’t … just as long as nobody follows me.’

  Everyone stood back and allowed Gaz Guzzler to pass. Keeping their distance, they followed him down to the shore where his jet-ski was moored. When Gaz reached Andrew’s canoe, he picked up a boulder and smashed it through the hull, shattering it into pieces. Then he clambered on to his jet-ski, started the engine and held up the little gold remote control. ‘Oops!’ he said, pressing the ruby button. ‘I lied!’

  18. A Chilling End

  ‘Quick, Spud!’ Star shouted. ‘You defuse the bomb. I’ll stop him!’

  She grabbed the shower rail from Ben’s hands and rammed it through a surfboard-shaped piece of the shattered canoe. Pushing off into the lake, she jumped on. Immediately, Gaz Guzzler’s enormous underpants filled with wind. Star gripped the shower rail in her teeth and leant backwards as her makeshift windsurfer shot off in pursuit of the jet-ski.

  ‘Way to go, sis!’ woofed Spud, running for the spot where their scuba-diving gear was hidden. No time for the wetsuit. And my oxygen tank is still lying empty on the tunnel floor. He grabbed his mask and pulled it on. He reached for his tool belt, clipped it round his waist and flung himself into the lake. More swimming! The puppy powered through the water, heading for the dam.

  Even swimming his fastest front crawl, it took Spud ten minutes to reach the great wall of stone at the end of the valley. His heart was pounding as he glanced at the stopwatch clipped to his tool belt. Only nine minutes left! He swam the curve of the dam, checking every centimetre of stonework as he looked for Gaz Guzzler’s bomb.

  Eight minutes to go. Nothing!

  He swam it again. Still nothing! The bomb must be under water!

  Six minutes left!

  Spud spotted something red blinking in the murk below. He stuck his face in the water and peered through his mask. He saw a metal canister stuck to the dam wall. A timer on the side of the canister flashed numbers.

  5.59

  5.58

  5.57

  Spud yanked the screwdriver from his tool belt and slipped his paw into the special grip. His face mask was steamed up so he shrugged it off, took a massive breath and plunged underwater. The puppy kicked hard and reached the bomb. He began to work on the first of four screws holding the front panel in place.

  5.01

  4.59

  4.58

  The first screw came loose. Spud exploded to the surface, gasped again and returned for screw number two. It’s so difficult under water! And with paws instead of hands!

  4.21

  4.20

  4.19

  The third screw was rusted tight and he wasted precious time scraping the rust off before he could move it. He breathed one more lungful and returned for what he knew would be his final chance.

  1.18

  1.17

  1.16

  Spud’s paws began to shake and the screwdriver slipped out of the fourth and final screw, scraping across the bomb surface. He was feeling light-headed. Finally, the fourth screw came free and the cover fell away into the depths of the lake.

  1.00

  0.59

  0.58

  There were six fat sticks of dynamite inside the cylinder, nestling in a tangle of wires. Spud took the pliers from his toolbelt and began to follow each wire, seeing where it went. Finally, he had isolated the two wires running between the timer and the detonator. One wire was red. The other was blue.

  0.08

  0.07

  0.06

  Spud moved his pliers to the red wire, and stopped. He switched them to the blue wire, and stopped. Which wire should he cut? The red or the blue?

  0.04

  0.03

  0.02

  Spud chose red.

  Star’s jaws were aching with the strain of holding on to the shower rail. The further she surfed out into the lake, the windier it got and the faster she went. She was closing the gap between her and Gaz Guzzler. His jet-ski engine was groaning under the strain of 160 kilos. If only she could hold on for long enough, she might be able to catch up and somehow make him stop the countdown sequence. One thing at a time, she thought. First I have to reach him.

  Gaz Guzzler looked over his shoulder and spotted Star speeding towards him under a sail made out of his dirty underpants. His eyes widened with astonishment and fear. ‘What are you?’ he screamed. ‘You’re no ordinary dog!’

  With a huge effort, Star managed to raise a paw and give Gaz an apparently casual wave. Spot on, she saluted. A Spy Pup of the very rarest breed!

  ‘Get lost!’ he yelled.

  Star leant even further into the wind. The underpants snapped and billowed and she picked up speed.

  With a roar of anger, Gaz Guzzler turned his jet-ski and headed straight for her. Star smiled to herself. Perfect!

  Gaz sped past, sending a wave of water over her surfboard. Star hung on grimly. Gaz tried again, cutting even closer. Again, Star managed to stay afloat. The third time he came at her, she let her underpant-sail collapse into the water, braced herself on the board and opened the compartment in her collar. The blue Eazi-Freezi capsule fell out into her paw. Come and get it, she thought, watching the nose of the jet-ski loom towards her.

  Star timed her throw so that the blue capsule landed right under the jet-ski. Instantly the water froze into a hard lump of ice and Gaz Guzzler came to a very sudden stop. He would have flown right out of the saddle, but his feet were frozen to his jet-ski.

  ‘What have you done!’ he howled. ‘You stupid puppy!’

  Star pointed at the little gold box round his neck. ‘Press the button,’ she woofed.

  ‘You think I can stop the bomb with this?’ Gaz whimpered, holding up the box. ‘You’re wrong! There’s no Off button!’

  Star felt her blood run cold as she thought of the thousands of innocent people in the valley below. It was all down to Spud now.

  ‘Five seconds!’ wailed Gaz Guzzler, looking at his watch a
nd then at the dam, which was much too close for comfort. ‘Four seconds! Three! Two! One! Mummeee!’

  Star closed her eyes and waited for the bang.

  ‘Funny time to go to sleep,’ said Spud, skating beside her.

  ‘Spud! You did it!’ yapped Star, flinging herself on to the ice and hugging her brother.

  ‘We did it, you mean!’ said Spud. ‘Spy Dogs forever, sis!’

  19. Balaclava Bling

  Professor Cortex smiled around at the little gathering of dogs and people on the beach in front of Tall Trees. X and Hero were cooking sausages at the barbecue. Hero wore an apron, and X was wearing his special party balaclava. It was lime green with diamante ‘X’s. Spud and Ollie were sharing a plateful of sausages and chocolate cake, Star and Sophie were playing frisbee, and Lara and Ben were sitting with Andrew and Mrs Guzzler, practising a few climbing knots. Mr and Mrs Cook were standing hand in hand, gazing out at the lake.

  It was a beautiful early evening in Clearwater Valley. The setting sun shone across the water and the lake looked very peaceful. It had not been peaceful a few hours ago when the professor and his agents had arrived by helicopter. He had flown in from his top-secret eagle-training base after receiving a coded message from X. As the chopper had swooped down over the lake, he had first spotted Lara, the Cooks, Mrs Guzzler and Andrew on the shore. They were all shouting and gesturing towards the dam. Next, he had spotted Gaz Guzzler bobbing up and down in the lake, frozen to his jet-ski like a human ice cube. A few metres away from Guzzler, Spud and Star were skating on the lake beside a pair of enormous underpants, laughing and hugging one another.

  The chopper pilot had plucked Guzzler and his jet-ski from the lake with a grappling claw, and then flown to Clearwater Village with him suspended underneath. ‘Put this criminal on ice!’ Professor Cortex had called as the chopper dumped Gaz in front of the police station. ‘Oh, wait a minute. He already is!’

  Now Professor Cortex chuckled, remembering his own joke. ‘That was one of my better efforts,’ he said to himself as he tapped the side of his glass with a spoon.

  Everyone gathered round. Professor Cortex cleared his throat and beamed at them. ‘On behalf of the British Government, I would like to thank you all for your brave efforts today. Because of you, the Clearwater dam is safe, and thousands of people are peacefully going about their business in the valley below. X and Hero, you were as cool and professional as ever. I would expect nothing less.’

  Everyone clapped as X and Hero each gave a dignified bow.

  ‘And he can cook!’ yapped Spud, waving his sausage. ‘Lovely grub – and not a grub in sight!’

  ‘Nice bling too,’ woofed Star, pointing to X’s sparkly balaclava.

  ‘Ben, Sophie and Ollie,’ continued Professor Cortex, ‘Andrew tells me you were all very brave and resourceful this afternoon. Well done!’

  Again, everyone clapped. ‘Mum and Dad were brave too!’ called Sophie.

  ‘Especially you, dear,’ said Mr Cook, making Mrs Cook blush. ‘You were a tigress!’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Mrs Cook,’ said Professor Cortex. ‘And I’m sorry that you and your family were put into danger again.’

  ‘That’s all right, Maximus,’ said Mrs Cook. ‘It wasn’t your fault – this time! And I must admit I quite enjoyed getting stuck in. Nobody hurts my children and gets away with it!’

  ‘Hear, hear!’ woofed Lara. ‘Mums united!’

  ‘What about Andrew and Mrs Guzzler?’ called Ben. ‘Andrew stood by us all the way.’

  ‘And Mrs Guzzler did the right thing, even though it was very hard for her,’ added Ollie, slipping his chocolate-smeared hand into hers.

  Mrs Guzzler gave a wobbly smile. ‘I’ve promised Garry I’ll visit him in prison. I’m afraid he’ll be in there for a very long time, but I’m hoping he’ll lose a lot of weight and gain a lot of manners! In the meantime, Andrew and I have an announcement to make.’

  Andrew cleared his throat. ‘Mrs Guzzler has agreed to work here at Tall Trees with me.’

  ‘Yes, it’s about time I looked after some more deserving children,’ said Mrs Guzzler, once everyone had finished cheering. ‘And I’m using some of Garry’s millions to close down the mine and clean up the underwater village. The lake in front of Garry’s mansion will be open to anyone who wants to use it!’

  ‘And last, but definitely not least,’ said Professor Cortex proudly, ‘our three amazing Spy Dogs: Lara, Spud and Star. Once again, you saved the day and caught the baddie. Cheers!’

  ‘Cheers!’ everyone shouted, raising their glasses.

  ‘Spy Dogs forever!’ barked Lara, Spud and Star.

  Their cheers rose up into the air, drifted out across the lake, where an otter lay on his back gazing up at the stars, and floated away over the dam and into the valley below, where thousands of lights twinkled in the windows of thousands of houses.

  PUFFIN BOOKS

  Published by the Penguin Group

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  First published 2012

  Text copyright © Andrew Cope and Ann Coburn, 2012

  Illustrations copyright © James de la Rue, 2012

  Cover illustrations by Andrew Farley

  All rights reserved

  The moral right of the authors and illustrator has been asserted

  Typeset by Palimpsest Book Production Limited, Falkirk, Stirlingshire

  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: 9780141970233