"Lost And Found" by The 26th Dog Feedback at dogchainhome1@aol.com The sleek white jet sped through the quiet late summer night. Its nose was painted to resemble a dog's snout; anyone who saw it would know right away that it belonged to the Road Rovers. That special group, canines who had been transdogmified into a new species of Cano-Sapiens, expanded from 6 to hundreds, perhaps thousands, in the last four years. They saved the world numerous times, taking to heart the old saying that "dogs are a man's best friend". This jet was different than others in the Road Rover fleet. The windows were specially treated to limit the amount of natural light that streamed into the cabin. It was built for one purpose and had never been used. Until tonight. Most Road Rover units had been given time off during the last week of August. It had been several months since any of the Rover's traditional enemies had been sighted. Late last night, reports began to trickle in to the skeleton crew left at Road Rover Mission Control that puppies were going missing. The Master immedately alerted all of his units, but it took time to get everyone on station. The puppies kept disappering at a steady pace until the number reached 1,000. There was no suspect, no pattern to the crimes, no ransom demand, no clues at all. It seemed as if these young dogs had vanished from the face of the earth. Every Road Rover unit was being used to search for the puppies. They all had orders to report in to their leader, Hunter, a mutt with the features of a yellow Labrador retriever. He and his unit were on the move also. They were dispatched to Rabat in Morocco to investigate the disappearance of the Sultan's hunting dog's pups. After collecting what little evidence there was, they were ordered to fly back to Mission Control. As soon as they landed there, they switched to this new plane and took off again. Only Hunter knew where they headed or that there was a special passenger on this flight. The cabin had been divided into separate rooms, one for each of the six Rovers and one larger room, with a narrow walkway between them. The cockpit had chairs for five and was filled with the latest electronic equipment. Hunter was at the controls of the plane, which its builder, Professor Hubert, had named the Air Command Rover. The only lights in the cockpit were the sickly green of the radar and the flashing red of the radio channels. Everyone was reporting in, but had nothing to report. "Morgengrauen", said a tired German voice. Hunter turned to look at Blitz, the Doberman pinscher. He was working the radar and looked exhausted. Hunter wondered when he had last slept. "What was that, buddy?" Hunter replied. "Morgengrauen", Blitz repeated. He pointed to the eastern horizon. "First light. When I was a guard dog in Berlin, I loved seeing that." "Why's that?" Hunter inquired. Blitz smiled, showing his sharply pointed teeth, "It meant that the owner of junk yard would come soon and I could get some sleep." Hunter smiled back. "Don't be again using the word sleep, Comrades. I can polar barely keep shades of eyeskis from falling.", Exile, the Siberian Husky interrupted. Exile was on radio duty and went right back to work. Hunter rubbed a paw over his eyes. He checked the wristwatch that his unit bought for him on his last birthday. Hunter was completely surprised by the gift and had to fight back tears when he read the inscription on the back of the face of the watch: "For our leader and our best friend, Happy Brithday Hunter." Everytime he looked at the watch was a reminder of good times and great friends. The time now was 3:30 AM, September 1st. Blitz and Exile's shift would end in 30 minutes. "Hey, Exile, I need a clear channel." "You betski, Hunter, number 3 is open now." "Thanks, man." Hunter put on his headset and switched from the Road Rover frequency to the air traffic control frequency. "Cleveland Burke Lakefront, this is Road Rover 1. Over." The radio crackled static in Hunter's ear. "Go ahead Rover 1." "Cleveland Burke Lakefront, we are attempting to get permission from Canadian military to enter. Requesting holding pattern over your outer marker. Over." "Rover 1, permission granted. Climb to 35,000 and maintain holding pattern. Notify when clearance is received. Over." "Will do, Cleveland Burke Lakefront. Thanks. Rover 1 out." Hunter clicked his microphone off. "One down, one to go." "Hunter, why did you lie to those people?", Blitz asked. "What? I'm super honest. I never lie." "You called yourself Rover 1 when everyone knows I am the best Rover.", the Doberman said proudly. "Good one, Blitz. Wait till I tell Colleen." "Nein, Hunter! She would hurt me more than usual in the mood that she's in." "Da, Comrade. Comrade Colleen is not a happy fisher.", Exile added. "Yeah, that's my fault, guys.", Hunter said sadly. He adjusted the frequency on his headset and clicked his radio microphone back on. "RCAF Downsview, this is Road Rover 1. Any change in our status?" "No, sir, Rover 1. We have a call in to Ottawa." "Understood, Downsview", Hunter replied in a frustrated tone, "Let us know." "Sorry, Rover 1. I'll do what I can for you. Downsview out." "This delay is going to make us late." Hunter muttered. "So, Hunter, can you let us in on the big secret?", Blitz asked. "Not yet. Exile, keep channel 3 open for me, please." Hunter asked. Exile responded with a thumbs- up sign. Hunter checked his watch again. 3:45 AM. He needed sleep. He'd been awake since the first alert went out 26 hours ago. The others had been too. They just needed a rest, just 15 minutes, maybe even 10... A loud crash woke him up. Hunter grabbed his Tennis Ball Launcher off the empty co-pilot's seat. He had to protect the passenger at any cost. A growl and string of barks broke the tension. Shag the sheepdog had dropped a pan in the galley. Hunter flicked the switch for the auto pilot. "Blitz, you have the controls. The radio frequency for Cleveland is 80 and Downsview is 67. I'm going to get the rest of the crew." The Doberman switched to the pilot's seat as Hunter went toward the passenger cabin. If Blitz had remained at his radar screen, he would have seen a large object speeding northwest toward Lake Erie. Hunter grabbed a flashlight from an emergency kit, because the cabin was not well lit (another special feature of the plane). He passed the galley which was behind the cockpit. Shag waved to him. "Hey Shagster, are you cooking breakfast already?" "Reah, rouldn't rheep", was the reply. When the Road Rovers had been transdogmified, Shag grew larger than the other Rovers, but retained more of his canine tendancies. He wore no armor, like the other Rovers did, and spoke in a mixture of barks and words. Now, Shag was trying to find his way in these darkened, cramped, unfamiliar quarters. "Neither can I, but I can still eat.", Hunter joked. "Can you go into the cockpit with the others?" "Rokay". Shag made sure the electric oven was off and went forward. Hunter continued on his way. After about ten feet, he caught sight of Muzzle the Rottwelier in the beam of his light. Muzzle's head lifted as soon as he caught Hunter's scent. They had been in the Los Angeles pound together (on the way to the gas chamber, in fact) until the Master called them. Hunter escaped, but went back for Muzzle anyway. Muzzle was dognapped by General Parvo, the Road Rover's archenemy, and had been experimented on. He couldn't be transdogmified, but to call him a regular dog wouldn't be fair. Muzzle wagged his short tail and whimpered softly. Hunter petted him behind the ears. "You can't sleep either, huh, buddy?", Hunter said softly. "At least we don't have to keep you on the cart on this plane." Muzzle was usually tied to a handcart and heavily restrained on missions. "Can you go up front with the rest of the guys, pal?" Muzzle trotted off, leaving Hunter alone in the hallway. Hunter took a deep breath and walked to the very back of the plane. Colleen, the English Rough Collie, was seated on a wooden chair, her head in her paws. As she heard his footsteps, she stood up and moved next to the door he had asked her to guard back at Mission Control. "Any word on the little ones?", Colleen inquired. She was tired and heartsick. Hunter knew that. It was Colleen, as a female, who had comforted the mothers of the missing puppies, Colleen, as the team's doctor, who had to gather medical information on all of the puppies by name. Each new missing puppy was a punch to the other Rovers' stomachs, but to Colleen, it was a wound to the heart. "No, sorry. How are you doing, Colleen?" Hunter had never seen her this upset before. It hurt him that he couldn't do anything to help the female he had fallen in love with at first sight. He realized that it could never work between them, so he never acted on his feelings. "I'm fine. A bit tired, perhaps. I wish I had more to do than guard the bloomin' cargo hold. I want to help, Hunter." Her voice carried a trace of anger. She wanted to be mad at Hunter, but when she looked into his brown eyes, she saw only the dog that she loved. Colleen had never told him how she felt; she just couldn't bear to have her heart broken again. "Colleen, no one ever said this was the cargo hold.", he responded slyly. He knocked on the door behind her. The door opened. It led to the Master's specially designed room. The Master was formally Professor William Sheppard, a noted scientist who had developed the transdogmification process. He had made the mistake of trusting the wrong people. His New Mexico laboratory had been bombed by General Parvo; Sheppard had survived, but the chemicals stored in the lab had reacted and left him unable to leave Mission Control. At least, that was what Colleen had been told all of these years. Hunter saluted."Master, we're behind schedule. We haven't been given clearance to cross into Canada yet." "What's going on here?", Colleen demanded. The Master, in his calming voice, answered,"Colleen, there was no one left at Mission Control, so Professor Hubert and I hitched a ride with you." Colleen turned back toward Hunter, who had a sheepish grin on his muzzle. "And you knew about this the whole bloomin' time?" "Yeah, I did. I couldn't let anyone know. That's why I told you to guard this door. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings." The Master cleared his throat. "Hunter, what's this about not getting clearance into Canada?" "The officer on duty at Downsview said he had a call into Ottawa." "Well", the Master said thoughtfully, "maybe I can speed up the process. We're behind schedule now as it is." "Thanks, Master.", Hunter said. " I was going to tell the rest of the pack about you now, if that's okay, Master." "Not necessary, Hunter. I'll take care of it. Professor Hubert," the Master said to the Bloodhound who had just woken up, "get our contact in Washington on the phone. Let him know that the Road Rovers are over, where are we, Hunter?" "Cleveland, Ohio, Master." "Professor, let him know that we're over Cleveland and need that clearance. Hunter, can you patch me through on the intercom system." Hunter opened an access panel in the bulkhead and flipped a few switches. "All set, Master. Just hold in this button." "My Rovers," the Master began, " Because of the nature of the emergency facing us, I have decided to accompany you on this mission. I want to thank you all for the hard work and dedication that you have given so far. Right now, we're on our way to a spot in northern Quebec called Ressorts de Loup. I will be here with you until we bring every last one of those missing puppies home. I know that we can do it. Now, because this is my first mission, and because I've always wanted to say it, to the power of the pack! " The plane rocked with the howl of seven dogs.