Caesar the War Dog 4

by Stephen Dando-Collins

  Vargas patted Caesar and bent to take a look at his collar, which had a metal ID tag on it with his name inscribed. ‘Okay, César,’ he said, smiling broadly, ‘we will now present you to el padrino.’ He took hold of Caesar’s leash. ‘Come.’

  Caesar allowed himself to be led into the building via the massive ground-floor garage. It was filled with vehicles including a black Hummer four-wheel drive, a red Ferrari 435 sports car, a yellow Porsche Cayenne – all the property of El Loro Verde and paid for by the proceeds of crime. The men and Caesar crowded into a lift and made their way to the top floor.

  The lift doors slid open to reveal a tall woman with blonde hair wearing a tight pink dress and holding a dog the size of a rat. The dog, a chihuahua, had been dyed pink from head to toe. At the sight of Caesar, it began to bark at him, squirming in the woman’s arms.

  ‘Hush, Rosa! Hush!’ the woman urged, firming her grip on the chihuahua. She pressed her face against its head. ‘Do not worry, I will not allow the big brown dog to hurt you,’ she crooned, then turned to glare at the three men. ‘What is that thing doing here?’ she demanded, nodding toward Caesar.

  ‘El padrino asked for it, Lola,’ said Vargas.

  ‘You do not call me Lola in front of people, Vargas,’ she growled, as a severe frown furrowed her brow.

  Vargas shrugged. ‘Sorry. But you are my sister, after all.’

  ‘You must call me Señora Marron. I am El Loro Verde’s wife, not just some commoner.’

  ‘Okay, okay.’ Vargas sighed. ‘But at least keep the rat quiet. You know how el padrino hates barking, Señora Marron.’

  ‘Hush, Rosa, my sweet,’ said Lola, stepping into the lift.

  Caesar accompanied Vargas, looking up at Rosa as Lola passed by with the chihuahua in her arms. He had never seen a dog like her before in his life. The lift doors shut, and Lola and the chihuahua were gone. Now he looked around the room, wondering if Ben might be here someplace to take him off the hands of these strangers.

  ‘Are you ready for a surprise, Padrino?’ Vargas called, leading Caesar into the massive living room which occupied much of the top floor.

  Diego and his companion, expecting a big reward from their boss, followed along behind.

  Carlos Marron, the Green Parrot, lay on a black leather sofa watching a quiz show. ‘It was Blue Hawaii, you idiot!’ he yelled at the television. ‘Elvis sang “Can’t Help Falling in Love” in the movie Blue Hawaii!’ He groaned and looked around at his three henchmen. ‘I must have seen that movie a hundred times, Vargas,’ he said. ‘It was the King’s best.’

  ‘Sí, Padrino,’ Vargas replied, leading Caesar into his boss’s view. ‘I have the dog for you.’

  Marron’s eyes dropped to the brown labrador at his lieutenant’s side. ‘What is this?’

  ‘This, Padrino, is César the exploding dog,’ said Vargas proudly. ‘As you ordered.’

  Marron leaned forward to study Caesar. ‘This is the bomb-sniffing dog?’ he asked. ‘Looks like any old dog to me. Are you sure this is the one that was on the television, Vargas?’

  ‘Sí, Padrino. This is the dog that smells the bombs. Diego and Tommy got him from the dog’s home in San Antonio, where he was being kept. If you look at his collar, it says his name and “Australian Army”. This is without question the dog, Padrino.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Marron. ‘And I asked you to get me this dog so that it would sniff any bombs that Estrella planted to kill me or my family. Correct?’

  Diego beamed. ‘Sí, Padrino.

  And here it is.’

  ‘And how is the dog going to tell me there is a bomb?’

  Diego’s smile faded. ‘Padrino? I do not understand.’

  ‘The dog – he sniffs a bomb. How is he going to tell me that he has found a bomb and where he has found it?’

  Diego looked baffled.

  ‘Is this a talking dog? Is that what you are telling me – this is a dog that can talk?’ demanded the crime boss.

  Diego laughed awkwardly. ‘No, Padrino. The dog cannot talk. That would be something, wouldn’t it –’

  ‘What use is this dog to me then?’

  Diego looked both embarrassed and afraid. ‘Er …’

  ‘The dog and the Australian soldier on the television – they are a team, you idiots! Without the soldier, the dog cannot do its job. The soldier is the only one who knows when the dog finds a bomb. The dog has a way of telling him. But what is that way?’ Marron glared at Vargas. ‘Do you know what it is?’

  ‘No, Padrino, not exactly,’ Vargas confessed, unable to look his boss in the eye.

  ‘Why did you not get me the dog’s handler as well, you imbecile?’

  Vargas’s look of self-satisfaction quickly disappeared. ‘The dog’s handler has returned to Australia. It was not possible –’

  ‘Get me a human who can understand the bomb-sniffing dog, Vargas!’ Marron raged, yelling at the top of his voice. ‘Do you hear me? All of you?’ He cast a fierce glance around all three of his henchmen.

  ‘Sí, Padrino,’ Vargas, Diego and Tommy chorused.

  ‘Now, get out! And take that useless dog with you! I do not wish to see it again unless you also bring me its handler.’

  ‘Sí, Padrino,’ the trio returned.

  ‘What do you mean Caesar has been taken, Daddy?’ Maddie demanded from across the breakfast table.

  ‘You’re saying he’s been dognapped?’ Josh could hardly believe it. His spoon hovered over his cereal bowl. ‘How?’

  ‘Oh, Ben,’ said Nan, her face ashen. ‘Caesar is a member of this family. You have to get him back!’

  ‘You don’t have to tell me that, Mum,’ said Ben. ‘How do you think I feel, leaving Caesar there? He trusted me.’

  Maddie looked at her father, then at her grandmother, with a lost expression on her face. ‘I’m befuzzled.’

  ‘Some bad people pretended to be policemen in order to steal Caesar, Maddie,’ her father tried to explain.

  ‘But why? What do they want him for?’

  ‘Caesar is a valuable dog, Maddie,’ said Nan. ‘Perhaps they want a ransom for him.’

  ‘What’s a “ramson”?’ Maddie queried.

  ‘We would have to pay a lot of money to get him back,’ said Josh. ‘Right, Dad?’

  Ben nodded. ‘Right, son.’

  ‘Oh, is that all?’ said Maddie, sounding relieved. ‘Then just give them the money. Caesar must be very frightened and missing us. You can have the money in my egg, Daddy, if you need it.’

  ‘Thank you, princess.’ Ben smiled for the first time since he’d received the news. ‘I’m sure we won’t have to break into your egg.’

  A while back, Ben’s journalist friend Amanda Ritchie had given Maddie a large egg-shaped money bank with ‘For Your Nest Egg’ printed on the side. Every time Maddie had a spare coin she would drop it in and listen with pleasure when she shook it. She was convinced that her savings in the egg must be approaching a million dollars by now.

  ‘Do you think this could be about a ransom, Ben?’ Nan asked.

  ‘I don’t know, Mum. The authorities in Texas are pretty sure that Caesar has been taken across the border into Mexico. If that’s the case, it’s probably the work of one of the Mexican crime cartels. They often kidnap high-profile people in Mexico and demand a lot of money for their return.’

  ‘And Caesar is famous,’ said Josh.

  Ben nodded. ‘He is famous, and he was on TV after the bomb blast in San Antonio. Maybe one of the crime cartels saw him on TV and targeted him as a result. We’ll have to wait and see if they make a ransom demand.’

  At that moment, Ben’s phone began to ring. Setting down his cup, Ben saw that it was Liberty Lee calling from the UN in New York. Excusing himself, he left to take her call.

  ‘Yes, Captain, what can I do for you?’ he answered.

  ‘Sergeant Fulton, Major-General Jones of SOCOM has just informed me of Caesar’s abduction,’ said Liberty. ‘I am very sorry to hear of it. So, too, is
the Secretary-General.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Ben. ‘It came as a shock, I can tell you. I spoke to General Jones last night, after Captain De Silva called, and he’s given me permission to return to Texas at once.’

  ‘That is good. The Secretary-General has asked me to tell you that, should the need arise for Caesar to be extricated from the hands of those who are holding him, he is prepared to call upon GRRR. We have already put GRRR team members on standby, in readiness for a rescue mission once details of Caesar’s whereabouts are known.’

  ‘That’s really good of you, ma’am, and the Secretary-General,’ Ben said gratefully, ‘but let’s hope it won’t come to that.’

  ‘Keep me informed.’

  ‘I will. Thank you, Captain. I really appreciate your support. My whole family does.’

  ‘We would do this if any member of GRRR was in trouble, Sergeant. And Caesar is just as important as any other member of the team.’

  ‘Yes, he is, ma’am.’

  ‘He was separated from you once before, was he not?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am, during a battle with the Taliban in Afghanistan. It took us fourteen months to get him back that time.’

  ‘I’m sure it will not take so long this time. Good luck.’

  Ben hung up, and found himself pondering why fate had done this to him a second time. Returning to the kitchen, he was determined to keep the mood light. He was angry at the way the quarantine facility had handed his dog over to the kidnappers, and he was fearful for Caesar’s safety, but he had to keep his family’s spirits up.

  ‘All good,’ he said as he returned to the table. ‘Finish your breakfast and I’ll run you both to school.’

  ‘Caesar is going to be all right, isn’t he, Daddy?’ asked Maddie, toying absently with her cereal.

  ‘Absolutely, princess,’ Ben assured her. ‘I’ll be flying out this afternoon to track him down.’

  ‘When do you think we can get him back?’ Josh asked. He felt guilty for not paying more attention to Caesar just before he went away.

  Ben didn’t rush to reply. His training as a soldier had capitalised on his nature as a practical and methodical man. ‘Let’s work on the basis that I’m going to locate Caesar and get him back on the quarantine program,’ he replied. ‘In which case, we’ll have him home pretty much around the same time as we were expecting originally. Okay?’

  Maddie smiled. She trusted her father and took his word for it. ‘Okay,’ she said, before taking another scoop of cereal.

  Ben looked at her brother. ‘Okay, Josh?’

  Josh nodded. ‘Okay.’

  ‘The UN has promised that, if necessary, GRRR will be deployed to rescue Caesar,’ added Ben.

  This brought a smile to Josh’s face. ‘Cool. That’s great, Dad.’

  Ben patted Josh on the shoulder. ‘It is great, mate. And GRRR has never failed on a mission.’

  Nan smiled across the table at Ben. She knew how deeply he must be hurting. ‘Yes, we’ll soon have Caesar back,’ she said.

  It was a statement filled with as much hope as it was confidence.

  Caesar sat looking at his captors. Vargas had cleared El Loro Verde’s garage of its cars. All the vehicles now stood out in the forecourt at the front of the compound. On the garage floor, Vargas had set out four large cardboard boxes two metres apart. Diego and Tommy, as well as several of El Loro’s bodyguards, had come to watch.

  ‘Come, César,’ said Vargas, unhitching Caesar’s leash from a pipe running along the wall, and leading him to the cardboard boxes. When Vargas came to a halt, Caesar came to a halt beside him. ‘We do not need a handler for you,’ Vargas said. ‘You will show me the bomb the same way the dogs in airports identify contraband. I have seen them do it. Here before you, César, are four boxes. In one of the boxes I have planted some sticks of gelignite. I want you to tell me which box the explosive sticks are in.’

  With his head cocked to one side, Caesar looked up at Vargas with an expression on his face that seemed to say, What are you talking about, mister?

  ‘The dog would only understand English, Vargas,’ called Tommy, watching with folded arms.

  ‘Okay, okay,’ Vargas acknowledged. ‘Your English is better than mine. You come tell the dog what I want it to do, in English.’

  Tommy ambled over. ‘Okay, César,’ he said, looking down at the labrador, ‘Vargas here wants you to find the explosives in one of these boxes. Comprende?’

  Caesar looked dumbly from Tommy to Vargas and back again.

  Tommy pointed at the boxes. ‘You find the bomb in the box. Okay?’

  ‘Find the boom-boom, César,’ Vargas added, in his heavily accented English. ‘Find the boom-boom!’

  What neither Tommy nor Vargas knew was that Caesar only went into bomb-sniffing mode upon hearing a specific command. That two-word command was common to all dogs trained for the Australian Army’s Special Operations Engineer Regiment. Without it, Caesar would not do as Vargas wanted.

  Impatiently tugging on the leash, Vargas led Caesar past the four cardboard boxes and back the other way again. Caesar watched Vargas all the way, suspicious of what the man might do to him at any moment. Wary and confused, Caesar sat down beside Vargas and looked absently around the garage. Besides, routinely associating the smell of explosives with Ben and the ‘games’ they played together, he was not in EDD mode.

  Vargas turned to Tommy and Diego. ‘You did get the right dog?’ he said accusingly. ‘Could there be some mistake?’

  ‘Sí, is the right dog, Vargas,’ said Diego. ‘There is no mistake.’

  ‘It just needs the right master to operate it,’ said Tommy. In the background, the bodyguards were laughing at Vargas.

  ‘Okay, okay,’ Vargas said irritably. ‘Then we need to find a dog handler. One who knows how to make these sniffing dogs work.’

  ‘The police have such dogs,’ said Diego.

  ‘And the army,’ added Tommy.

  ‘Then you two will get me a police or army dog handler,’ said Vargas, leading Caesar back to where the labrador had spent the night. ‘Pay them or threaten them – just get them here.’

  Tommy raised his eyebrows. ‘You want us to kidnap a dog handler now?’ he asked.

  ‘Finish the job,’ Vargas called back. ‘You should have brought the dog’s handler with this animal. What use is one without the other?’

  ‘You did not tell us to get the handler too,’ said Diego defensively.

  ‘And César’s handler has gone back to Australia,’ said Tommy.

  Vargas waved them away and began fastening Caesar’s leash to a pipe on the wall. ‘Just get someone who can make this dog find bombs. Vámonos!’

  ‘Okay, okay,’ said Diego, turning for the door.

  ‘We always have to clean up his messes,’ Tommy mumbled, keeping his voice low so that only Diego could hear him.

  Diego nodded. ‘If Vargas were not Lola’s brother, el padrino would not even bother with such a fool.’

  ‘What are you saying?’ said Vargas.

  ‘We were saying that we will have a fool of a dog handler for you within twenty-four hours, Vargas,’ Tommy replied.

  ‘Good. Good.’

  As Diego and Tommy set off on their mission, the Green Parrot’s cars were all returned to their parking places. The garage doors were shut, leaving Caesar alone. Settling down on the floor, he rested his jaw on his paws and closed his eyes. This garage was now his prison.

  Captain De Silva was there to meet Ben at San Antonio International Airport. ‘Ben, I can’t tell you how sorry we are about what happened to Caesar,’ he said as they walked to the car. ‘You must be real shook up by all this.’

  ‘My whole family is,’ Ben replied. ‘It’s like we’ve lost one of our children.’

  ‘I blame Joe Levine’s granddaughter,’ said De Silva, sounding genuinely angry. ‘Levine’s a top operator. He used to handle service dogs for the SAPD, and before that for the Marine Corps. If he’d been around when the cartel
’s hoods turned up he wouldn’t have let Caesar out of his sight. Cindy Levine’s lucky we haven’t charged her.’

  ‘Charged her with what?’

  ‘We would have thought of something. But my chief doesn’t want the story to get out. If we charged her, Caesar’s abduction would be in the media in a flash.’

  ‘Too embarrassing for your department?’ said Ben.

  De Silva shrugged. ‘Right now our focus is on tracking Caesar down.’

  ‘My commanding general also wants to keep Caesar’s abduction confidential for now,’ Ben advised. ‘We don’t want his kidnappers to know we’re onto them. Tell me, where did the crooks get the police uniforms and ID?’

  ‘They could have hired them from a costume shop or bought them from a manufacturer. The rest could be mocked up pretty easily. Problem was, Cindy Levine didn’t ask to see these guys’ ID.’ De Silva shook his head. ‘How dumb was that? Your government should sue the Levines.’

  Ben shook his head. ‘I don’t want to sue anyone. I just want Caesar back.’

  They reached the car and Ben slid into the back.

  Sergeant Austin was behind the wheel. ‘Sorry to see you again under these circumstances,’ he said, turning around to face Ben.

  ‘Have you got any idea where Caesar is?’ Ben asked.

  ‘We think he’s in Mexico,’ replied De Silva. ‘We’ve secured a CCTV image from the border post at Laredo of a brown labrador in the back of a pick-up entering Nuevo León. It could be Caesar. It’s the only sighting we’ve had.’

  ‘Where in Mexico would they take him?’

  ‘Monterrey’s our bet,’ said Austin, starting the engine.

  ‘We think Caesar was kidnapped by one of the cartels,’ said De Silva, ‘for ransom.’

  ‘Have the kidnappers made contact with a ransom demand?’ Ben asked.

  De Silva grimaced. ‘Not yet.’

  ‘How long do the cartels usually wait to make a ransom demand after they carry out a kidnapping?’

  ‘Usually between twenty-four and forty-eight hours,’ De Silva advised.