KC Frantzen - May the K9 Spy 02 - May Finds a Way: Peril in Paris

by KC Frantzen

  There’s clicking, like seatbelts in our truck back home – I have a bad feeling about this – and suddenly Mr. Chief’s voice speaks. Strange. It’s nearby and muffled overhead.

  “Please make yourselves comfortable. We are pleased to welcome you aboard this 7 hour, 12 minute flight from Baltimore to Paris – Charles de Gaulle. We are delighted to serve you and make your time with us comfortable. Sit back and relax, we’ll be airborne shortly.” He speaks the same words in French, I’m pretty sure. Then there’s a sound like someone hung up a phone. Odd.

  Mr. Chief speaks again, one voice this time. “It is my pleasure to assist you, Mademoiselle… Stark?”

  “We, Coralee Stark.”

  We? Why is she saying we? Sounds like she means yes. Wait. “Oui.” That’s French. It does mean yes.

  “I am Chief Purser Vince Dolan, and most happy to assist you. Your seating is satisfactory?”

  “Merci, Monsieur Dolan. Indeed, my preferred seating is near the galley. I am traveling with some diplomatic items…”

  “Oui. As per procedure, the Captain has the smaller valise diplomatique. The larger carton is secured in the hold. One moment. Ah, here are your papers. All in order.”

  “Merci. I have not seen you on this flight previously.” Her voice sounds intrigued.

  “No, I have recently been promoted and reassigned. Does mademoiselle travel this route often?”

  “On occasion. I am attached to the US Embassy in Luxembourg, but am temporarily posted to Paris and shepherding these items before I return.”

  US Embassy. Maybe Miss Coralee will help me if I can get her attention…

  The engines start to whine. Now we’re moving, and fast. The other dogs howl as I try to brace myself on the slick liner.

  My queasy stomach drops. My ears need to pop.

  I’m just a recruit in boot camp. I can’t go to Paris!

  Chapter 6

  One of the greeter ladies pulls out my bin. Light! I breathe a little easier. Nice we had stability training basics this week.

  Huh? A peanut smacks my head, then a few more bounce off my back.

  I’m getting a sense of the humans nearby. One is a smoker. This one has been near two… no, three dogs, and a cat.

  I look up as a few wadded napkins rain down. More nuts. Well, I am in a trash bin. Which reminds me, I’m hungry. Crunch crunch crunch. Peanuts, pecans, filberts, cashews, but mostly peanuts. Good quality!

  Great – now I’m parched.

  Splat. Ask and you will receive. I lick the water off my fur and lap lap lap the bottom of the cup. Bonk. Cups, more napkins. Gotta get out before I’m buried alive.

  But what if Rukan is near?

  I don’t have any sense of him, not anymore. But how do I communicate I saw him, and his crew, once I get out? And with whom?

  I don’t detect the barks of my brethren any more, but one is whining. He’s really scared. I hope Chief Purser is truthful and we’ll all be okay.

  The voices fade. Time to jump out.

  Piffle. Without a running start, I don’t make it very high. Plan B. I crouch and spring, extending my claws. The plastic tears a bit, but I manage to cling to the side and scramble over the top.

  Perfect landing, like in training. MMMM. It sure smells wonderful – steak and shrimp and chicken and lasagna with lots of cheese and garlic.

  I’m in a small kitchen full of gleaming stainless steel. Over the doorway is a grey curtain that coordinates with my fur coat. How thoughtful.

  I nose under the curtain and note all the chairs face forward. There are two seats on each side in 2–4–6–8–10 rows. Appear to be some empty ones towards the front.

  We’re moving FAST, but there’s no ruffling of anyone’s fur, like in the helicopter. Odd. Some humans are reading, some are watching tiny televisions. Wonder where they’re all going, besides Paris I mean. And why are they, I mean we, going?

  There’s the Embassy lady, Miss Coralee, in the row nearest me. She’s pretty. But her tone is irritated. She’s talking to some lady across the pathway, and – gasp. That woman has almost the same accent as Rukan. Is she the operative he mentioned? Better steer clear.

  She snatches a magazine from a holder in front of her and slaps the pages over, one after another.

  Miss Coralee shakes her head, then leans to rummage in a compartment next to her window. She takes out a folder and begins to read. I don’t spy anyone in the seat next to her. The man in the next row up pushes the control alongside his chair. It tilts back like Dad and Mom’s recliner, then he nestles in with a blanket and pillow. Maybe I can, when it’s safe.

  Yikes! The flight attendant is returning. Wait. The cranky operative stopped her. Must hide. The right side is closer, less chance of being noticed. I’ll keep going until I feel somewhat secure, then I’ll stop to take cover and think and rest.

  Using my cat walk, I start skulking along the side of the plane, quiet and small, when I hear the flight attendant footsteps pass by.

  Rukan’s operative hisses, “I nearly missed my connection! This ridiculous airline misplaced something of importance to my employer, and so to me. He was – How you say? – Full of fury. He instructed me to continue my journey. Perhaps the item was mis-taken on another flight.”

  Miss Coralee says, “So they did not locate it?”

  “Someone else failed, not me! I didn’t lose the dog!”

  I’m not lost. I escaped.

  “Dog?” Miss Coralee’s feet fidget as I dart under her seat.

  The operative shouts, “The airline is responsible. Someone left the latch undone. They will pay, this is certain! If I ever get my hands on that troublesome dog, I will toss it in the Seine for the worry it has caused me!”

  Thwack. She slams magazines into the pathway. Footsteps hurry from the kitchen. Miss Coralee’s feet shift sideways.

  JUMP!

  I land in the storage compartment, sidestep a purse and dive into the darkness. Seems like it’d be bigger in here, but Miss Coralee’s coat and a gift wrapped in birthday paper take up the rest of the space. I position myself so I can see. What next?

  Click.

  She shut me inside! What if she saw me?

  My gurgling gut wakes me. Delicious aromas and clanging utensils mean dinner. I smack my salted-nut lips. Yawn. How long have I been locked in the dark?

  I hear dishes being cleared and Mr. Chief, I mean Mr. Vince, speaks quietly.

  “Thank you for the assistance with the passenger. She seems calmer since we reseated her up front. May I get you anything else before you settle in?”

  Miss Coralee says, “No, merci. I have some reading to catch up on. But the paperwork I need to review is boring enough that I should be dead to the world soon. I appreciate your attention.”

  “It is my pleasure.”

  His footsteps move away, then the bin lid opens. I smile at a pretty face that morphs into wonderment.

  SLAM.

  That didn’t go well. Did she forget about me, or not know in the first place? Perhaps my pitiful look will convince her to help, if I get another chance. I set my ears back, at the ready.

  Ever so slowly, the lid reopens. Miss Coralee bends to look, her eyes wide.

  Hi. Will you help me? I cautiously wag my nub.

  Through clenched teeth she whispers, “Are you on my COAT?”

  Sorry. There, I’m off. Ma’am, it’s a long story, but I have to let someone know about, uhmm something. Do you speak critter?

  “Are you the escapee? I don’t know what will happen if that woman finds you. Let me think about what we should do.”

  We, English version. Good start. But I’m not sure she understood me.

  “I don’t see any collar.”

  My name is May and I did have a collar but… I uh… Well, I didn’t know I was going to be on a miss… uh… traveling so soon, but I spied Ru – uh this evil anar… uh… evil man’s bag… We have a long history… And… My handler-errr, traveling companion, wasn’t paying atte
ntion.

  I should leave out the part about jerking my lead from Mr. Mac’s hand.

  And I never saw that woman before, but you heard what she said. She’ll toss me insane. I’m not sure what that means but it can’t be good. I saw the evil man and some of his crew working at the airport, after they captured me.

  “You’re trying to tell me something, aren’t you?”

  I lean forward and wag my nub with gusto. Yes! And I have to tell it to someone who understands real soon. Will you please, please help me?

  I hear Mr. Vince’s footsteps but the lady doesn’t seem to. I slink back into the shadow.

  “Trouble, mademoiselle?”

  There’s a long pause, then in a quiet voice she says, “Yes. Please help me determine what to do with the dog.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “This dog… Oh, I don’t see it…” Her clothes rustle as she whispers, “There’s a dog in the storage compartment.”

  “Mademoiselle, you have excellent hearing. We have the pleasure of two dogs traveling in the compartment below. But you should not be concerned. Lois checked and will continue to do so. They are fine.”

  Silence. What’s happening? I creep forward to peek out from the shadows, ready to jump if need be.

  “Mademoiselle, if there is nothing more–”

  Miss Coralee sits straighter, her voice gentle. “But there is. Perhaps, maybe, you will return when things are a bit quieter?”

  “I’d like that very much.”

  When she turns, even in this light, I notice her face is a little pinker than before.

  Chapter 7

  When Miss Coralee lifts the airline blanket corner, Mr. Vince gives her a look. “I see what you mean. It appears similar to the K9 Service hero that thwarted the DC bomb plot.”

  That was me! I stand and try to appear excited without being rambunctious.

  “Noooo. Couldn’t be. Could it?” Miss Coralee looks my way. “Of course we were alerted at the Embassy. Good work by the K9 Service, though the perpetrator eluded capture.”

  I give a tentative thlbpt to the back of her hand.

  She looks disgusted as she wipes my kiss on the blanket.

  Mr. Vince nods and pulls papers from his jacket pocket. “It sure looks like her. How did she come to be in your compartment?”

  She shakes her head. “I have no idea. Where’s her handler? Is she on another mission?”

  Not exactly, Miss Coralee. It’s a long story… But the main thing is, I must alert the Service that – err… Someone who shouldn’t be is working at the airport. Do you understand?

  Her expression doesn’t change. Sigh.

  Mr. Vince points to a paper and quietly says, “There are two dogs on the manifest, though a last minute change dropped a third. Hmm. The no-show information corresponds to the difficult passenger.”

  “And let that crazy woman take her? If this dog is who we think she might be… I still don’t understand how this all fits.”

  I don’t either.

  Mr. Vince regards me, then Miss Coralee. “We don’t know for certain if this dog is the same one the passenger reported missing.”

  I want so much to bark.

  Miss Coralee nods. “Exactly. But what else makes sense? The thing is, I know nothing of her. We should proceed with caution.”

  “Agreed. I’ve alerted the Captain concerning the passenger disturbance. Since the woman is calm, there isn’t a lot to be done at present. However, I will alert the authorities to the possibility she could have been involved in DC. Concerning the dog. We have no extra carriers on board. Regardless of who she is or is not, she has no papers for France.”

  Because I was dognapped!

  Miss Coralee looks worried, like I feel. “Exactly. What about customs and immigration?”

  Mr. Vince’s face is grim. “It’s likely they would dispose of her, Mademoiselle Stark–”

  Dispose? Like… peanuts in the trash?

  “–but surely not, as our guest suggested, in the Seine.”

  Insane again. Must be serious. Would they cage me in the dark or what?

  Miss Coralee nods. “How shall we handle it?”

  “May I make a proposal? I am scheduled on holiday for a couple of weeks. Perhaps I could return her to the States afterwards, unless other arrangements can be made.”

  Miss Coralee says, “Mr. Dolan, I’m not a dog-lover, but I don’t want anything bad to happen to her, either. As someone serving in the Diplomatic Corps, perhaps I can assist.” She leans over, with a hint of a smile. “Since it seems we are about to engage in a bit of espionage, I hope you will consider addressing me by my given name. It’s Coralee.”

  His face reddens as he says, “And I’m Vince. Very pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  “Very well. Vince.” She grins and glances towards me. “She’s small. I have my diplomatic bag. I could get her into the Embassy, find out more. We can decide what to do from there.”

  “One thing for certain… Coralee. The dog is under my purview.” He pats my head. “She’s probably hungry and thirsty after smelling all this food, poor thing.”

  I make my eyes as round as possible.

  “Yes, you are. Stand by. Let me see what I can do.”

  Righty-o. Mr. Vince understood me!

  The lady grabs a blanket from the empty seat and covers me, though I cautiously stick my head out far enough to see what’s going on. Soon he is back with some cut up steak on a little crunchy salad with ripe tomatoes, and a nice size cup of water.

  Miss Coralee asks, “Salad?”

  He nods. “Back home, our dogs always enjoyed the crunchy parts. Let’s see what she does.”

  In spite of myself, my nose twitches. Thank you.

  “Here you are.” He sets down a plastic plate, then pats my head, cupping his hand around my face. “You’re very soft.”

  Thank you, sir, for everything. If you will please excuse me.

  Water first, to get out the salted-nut taste – Laplaplaplap. A bite of each item in order – steak, lettuce, tomato, repeat. YUM! I do my best to mind my manners and not smack. Wouldn’t be proper.

  I wash everything clean, then lap, lap, lap to finish the meal. Sigh. Dee-licious. Thank you both. There’s one more thing, sir. I’m not sure what to do about using the, what did Dad say one time? The facilities. For me, most blades of grass will do but I’ve been known to use the newspaper in a pinch. I nudge the one folded near me in the bin.

  Mr. Vince asks, “Do you need to go out, girl?”

  Yes, please.

  Miss Coralee looks from me to him. “She kind of answered you, didn’t she?”

  Wasn’t it obvious?

  “I communicate well with dogs.” He chuckles. “Most people can if they’ll pay attention.”

  I wiggle my entire self. Thank the Creator!

  The lady regards him closely and he blushes again. Hmm. Mom does that to Dad too.

  Mr. Vince whispers, “You could bring the newspaper into the toilet room and place it on the floor for her. Are you willing?”

  Her nose wrinkles but she nods.

  I’m sorry to inconvenience you, ma’am, but I don’t want to soil your pretty coat. Thank you very much.

  “It is well most everyone is sleeping or otherwise occupied. I’ll leave a waste sack on the counter. Let me know when she is finished. I’ll make proper disposal.”

  The lady places a burgundy bag over her head like a mask. Odd. Then, she takes several deep breaths. Is she ill?

  “This should work. It’s almost time to disembark.”

  DisemBARK? I thought I’m supposed to be quiet.

  “You’re trying to say something again, aren’t you? There’s a question on your face.”

  There is?

  Miss Coralee whispers, “We have to get you through customs. I work with the State Department, so I have diplomatic immunity. I know people from other countries have sometimes been successful at smuggling humans in or out… I’ve never done it, but
this seems like the time to give the theory a go. And you are small.”

  I hardly take up any room at all.

  “We have to get you back to the States, especially if you’re who we think you are.”

  Oh, thank you!

  “Why am I explaining this? You’re a dog.”

  Humans. So unaware…

  I jump up and tilt my head to the side.

  “You do seem to understand. You’re obviously excited, but it’s risky to leave you on the plane. I’ll seal you in this pouch until we’re safely inside the Chancery, that’s the name for the Embassy, or at least till we’re in the limo. You’ll still be able to breathe. I just tried it. Okay?”

  OHHhhhh.

  “I’ll get you through customs and immigration. Mr. Dolan… Vince – such a nice name – and I will meet up again at the Embassy, after he drops off his luggage. Once we’re there, maybe we can determine who you are. We will arrange the proper paperwork through the RSO–”

  I forget… Regional Security Office? Rowdy Sentry Ordeal …

  “–to get you back through, and Vince will take you home when he returns. Or if you truly are that hero, we will contact the local K9 attaché.”

  I look at the bag she’s offering. Do I trust her? Is there another way? If I run, where would I go? Uh oh. The operative is sorta looking our way. Mustn’t stay and further compromise my cover, such as it is, or chance her capturing me.

  So. Gulp. It’s decided.

  I nuzzle her hand with my nose.

  She looks like I gave her a dead frog.

  Chapter 8

  How is this going to work? There’s no footing and it’s dark.

  I’m inside the cloth bag and feel myself lifted and placed on something with a hard floor. Good, I can stand.

  Wait… Did she put me inside another bag? The cloth bag was pushing it. I can’t breathe and it’s dark and…

  Miss Coralee says, “I’ll let you out as soon as we get there.”

  I need to think about something else. Running through the field back home, bright sunny sky, without hawks. Or… Sitting on the porch with the Grouch, listening to her latest lesson, me wondering what my purpose is. Wait till she hears about these adventures.