I’m in the back of a Maelstrom vehicle that’s disguised as an Animal Control van. We’re driving up the Pacific Coast Highway through Malibu. The large officer who came to Chance’s group home is sitting across from me. He tried to kill me a few days ago, but now he and these other men are my partners in a secret operation for Maelstrom. There are other blue-uniformed soldiers in the vehicle as well, but I don’t recognize them.
General Rupani explained the situation during a briefing back at the base. He said that six months ago I was placed with the family of the heiress who owns the yacht I woke up on. I was their family pet, or at least I pretended to be, while my real purpose was to spy on them and report back to Maelstrom. Instead of a fly on the wall, I was the dog in the living room, listening to every phone conversation, reading every piece of mail, watching as Helen Horvath typed passwords into her computer. When she traveled, I traveled with her, and the spying continued.
“We need you to go back into the Horvath house,” General Rupani said. “We want you to retrieve a computer jump drive.”
“Why me?” I asked.
“Helen Horvath keeps it on a chain around her neck, and she never takes it off. We believe it has the access codes to a secret financial network that’s being used to fund terrorist activities around the globe. You can get close enough to take it away from her without her realizing immediately.”
“A necklace with a jump drive. That’s the entire mission? Why would I run away from a mission like that?”
“Some things are better left in the past,” General Rupani said. “Your memory loss may turn out to be a blessing. Let’s get you back inside that house, and let’s focus on the future together.”
I wrinkled my nose, disturbed by what I was hearing. “What future are you talking about?”
“Maelstrom was your home, She-Nine. There’s no reason it can’t be your home again.”
Home.
The thing I’d been seeking from the moment I awoke on the yacht. The general was offering me a way back.
But did I want to return to the people who tried to kill me? Could I ever really trust them?
I didn’t respond to the general, afraid to say something that might risk Chance’s life.
The briefing ended with a simple promise by the general: If I follow orders, he’ll release Chance. If I deviate, the agreement is off, and no one will ever see Chance alive again.
Back in the van, the large officer snaps his fingers to get my attention.
“Stay sharp,” he says. “We’ll be there in one minute.”
“Got it,” I say, snorting at the smell of this man who I hate.
“We’re setting up the command center a mile away down the beach,” the officer says. “We’ll be monitoring your vital signs through your collar. General Rupani is your handler for this mission. He’ll be in constant contact with you.”
I bark, letting him know I understand.
“By the way, no hard feelings about the other day, when we shot at you with the zapper,” he says. “Lucky we missed, huh?”
He smiles as if we’re friends, and I swallow the anger that would have me lash out at him now.
“I was just following orders,” he says. “We’re soldiers. That’s what soldiers do.”
Is that what we do? We follow orders even if it means killing one another?
I turn away, unable to deal with this now, and focus my thoughts on the task ahead.
The van pulls off the highway and slows behind a bank of trees. A soldier opens the door to let me out.
“Your destination is about a mile down the road,” the large officer says.
I yelp my understanding and hop out of the van, grateful to be away from these people.
I take a deep breath of ocean air and trot down the embankment, darting across the Pacific Coast Highway during a break in the traffic.
I jog along the side of the highway for a while, allowing my fur to pick up dirt and leaves from the underbrush. A few cars slow so their drivers can look at me, probably wondering what a dog is doing running free on the side of the road.
No need to slow down or lend a hand, I think to myself, and they don’t, choosing instead to stare but not get involved.
The important thing is that I want to be seen. If people report a stray running along the road, it will only strengthen the story when I show up at the Horvath home.
A lost dog found. A stray who has come home.
I leave the highway and cut in at Malibu Colony Cove, following a map I memorized at the Maelstrom base. I walk past a guardhouse where two armed security patrolmen are chatting. They notice me at the last second, too late to catch me.
I continue up the road, moving past the doors of multimillion-dollar ocean homes.
I see my destination ahead. It’s the house at the very end of the private drive, fronted by a high wall sealing it off from the street around it. It looks exactly like the photos I was shown in my mission briefing.
I walk to the front gate and start to bark—loud staccato bursts that evolve into a mournful howl. It takes only a minute for a hidden door to open. Two bodyguards in black suits step out from the house armed with automatic weapons.
The bodyguards are intimidating as they approach me cautiously. But the moment they get close, their demeanor softens.
“I can’t believe it,” the first bodyguard says. “Is it Honey?”
Honey! That’s the name Magic Myron called me at PetStar.
“It looks just like her,” the second one says. “She has the same spots—but I don’t recognize this collar.”
“Is it you, Honey?”
I’m not sure I like the name, but I bark and wag my tail, playing the part of the dog they know.
“It looks like she’s been through a lot.”
“You guys have no idea,” I say, but of course they only hear barking.
“Poor girl,” the first bodyguard says.
The security patrol from the bottom of the street drives up fast. He rolls down the window, acknowledging the guys with automatic weapons from the mansion.
“She came walking up past the guardhouse,” the patrolman says. “She’s the one, right?”
The bodyguard nods. “It’s a miracle.”
He opens a door to the mansion property and whistles to me, urging me to follow him.
Inside.
I walk through the door into paradise. A massive ornate house rises before me, fountains and reflecting pools on the grounds in front. The walls of the house are made of glass, and I can look straight through to the length of private beach on the other side. I hear the waves crashing beyond the house and smell the salt foam in the air.
The door of the mansion flies open, and a bright-eyed redheaded girl runs out, her mouth open with awe and delight as she flings herself at me.
It’s the girl from my flashbacks.
I look down, and sure enough—she’s wearing pink boat shoes.
“Honey, you’re home!” she shouts, and she throws her arms around my neck.
The breath catches in my throat as I feel her arms clutching me, and I taste her salty tears as she weeps with joy.
I lean into her, letting her embrace me as Honey, her long-lost pet.