By now Spud was behind him. He could see the big red button marked launch. Right, three … two … one …

  Jimmy knocked back the champagne and gave a loud belch. ‘A toast,’ he shouted to himself, ‘to genius, planning and eternal wealth.’

  Just as Jimmy’s hand reached for the button, Spud launched himself. He hurled his chubby body at Jimmy’s arm and sank his razor-sharp teeth into the man’s wrist. Jimmy yelled and champagne spilled everywhere. Spud could feel himself being swung around but he held on, his teeth sinking deeper. Jimmy swung the puppy against the metal wall and Spud had to let go. He fell to the floor with a thump.

  Down but not out. He attacked again. The world depends on me, he thought as he darted for the man’s ankle. Spud received a kick for his troubles, sending him shooting into the air. He landed on the submarine’s huge control panel, dazed.

  Jimmy’s ankle and hand were bleeding badly as he reached down beside the captain’s seat to grab something. ‘Come here, you pesky little mutt.’

  He sure looks angry, thought Spud as the man staggered towards him, a metal baseball bat raised. Spud rolled away as the first hit sent sparks flying across the control panel. The next wallop was too close for comfort.

  Slam! Down came the third strike, but this one caught the puppy and he yelped and limped away. Now Spud was cornered. His leg felt numb. Jimmy’s nostrils were flaring as he raised the bat one more time. Spud put his front paws up to his face to protect himself but then leapt aside at the final second as the bat came down with an almighty crash. The control panel’s computer screen shattered. The electrics fizzed and the submarine was plunged into darkness.

  After a few seconds the emergency lighting kicked in and an orangey glow lit the submarine. All was silent except for the beep of the sonar. The power cut had been just long enough for Spud to sniff out his escape in the darkness. He cowered back under the blanket, hidden from sight.

  Jimmy cursed and lowered his bat. ‘OK, puppy,’ he admitted, breathing like a bull. ‘You win.’

  ‘What’s happening down there?’ Professor Cortex’s voice yelled out over the radio. He’d followed Star’s tracking device, dragging Mr and Mrs Cook down into the cave. Mrs Cook had almost fainted at the sight of the radiation warning sign on the side of the lorry.

  The small crowd strained their ears, listening for a reply. ‘Agent Spud,’ the professor tried again. ‘Are you OK? Over.’ He held the microphone out towards Lara.

  ‘Spud,’ she yapped. ‘Don’t do anything to put your life at risk! The police are on their way. Over.’

  Spud wanted to reply but kept himself hidden. It was a bit hairy, he thought. It was nearly all over. Over!

  ‘Has the missile been launched, Agent Spud? Over,’ asked the professor, trying to sound calm.

  Jimmy grabbed at the radio control and switched it on. ‘I don’t know who this is,’ he bellowed, ‘but it will be any moment now. Just time for me to escape. Over – once and for all!’ He tapped some buttons on the control panel. Then he pulled an oxygen mask over his face and strapped the tank on to his back. With a tug he pulled open an escape hatch on the floor and let water flood into the submarine.

  ‘Wherever you’re hiding, I’m out of here, doggy. And the missile fires in two minutes’ time,’ he announced, his voice muffled from behind the mask. ‘Oh no,’ he giggled. ‘Silly me … one minute and forty-six seconds.’ Jimmy jumped towards the hatch and disappeared into the ocean.

  Spud had crept out from under the blanket as the water rose, almost over his head now. He glanced at the digital clock as his paws lifted off the floor and he had to start paddling.

  Water kept gushing in and Spud had no chance of closing the hatch. ‘I need hands not paws,’ he barked in frustration. He paddled over to the captain’s chair and leapt on to the control panel. He clicked on the radio. ‘Ma,’ he barked, ‘I’m in big trouble!’

  19. A Real Mission

  Lara’s bark came over the radio. ‘Hang in there, son,’ she said. ‘The professor’s going to give you instructions on how to stop the nuclear missile. You have to do what he says.’

  ‘But there’s water, Ma,’ woofed Spud. ‘It’s coming in so fast.’

  ‘You have to do what the professor asks,’ barked Lara. ‘You’re a real Spy Pup now.’

  ‘Is this a mission, Ma?’ woofed Spud. ‘Is it a real mission?’

  The professor’s voice came next. ‘Agent Spud,’ he said, ‘we have just over one minute left. If the missile hits the beach it will kill people … wildlife … the whole eco-system … for hundreds of years. I’ve looked at the layout of the sub and the missile system. Unfortunately, we don’t have time to stop the launch. Instead, you need to turn the submarine around. That way, the missile will shoot harmlessly out to sea. It will rest on the ocean floor until we can retrieve it. Bark once if you understand me. Over.’

  ‘Woof,’ barked Spud. The water was a third of the way up the side of the sub and gushing in as fast as ever. Quick, Prof, before the backup generator short-circuits. Spud listened carefully for the next instruction.

  ‘There’s a joystick,’ shouted the professor, looking at the submarine plans that Sophie had spread out on the office desk. His voice was barely audible above the rush of water. ‘Like on an old video game. Over.’

  Spud barked once. Yes, sir, I can see it. I’m good at video games, Prof.

  ‘Pull the throttle sharp left for as long as you can, Agent Spud. And we might just have a chance of turning the sub. Over.’

  Spud’s heart sank. ‘But the joystick is nearly underwater,’ he yelped. Spud knew he had no choice. He was determined to defeat the Toxic Terror, even if it cost him his life. Spud’s stubby legs pumped hard as he swam to the joystick and gripped it between his paws. He pulled it sharp left and the submarine lurched. More water poured in. Spud looked around. Yikes! he thought, the submarine is half full.

  ‘That’s good,’ shouted the professor, tracking the sub’s moves on the radar screen in Jimmy’s cave. ‘And again, Agent Spud – the submarine is turning, but it needs to turn faster. We have thirty seconds before launch.’

  ‘Go for it, son,’ woofed Lara over the radio. ‘You have twenty-five seconds to save the world!’

  Spud stretched his neck to keep his face above the surface. His small black nose poked out of the top of the water. He took a deep breath and his nose disappeared. He opened his eyes wide in the darkness, the sea water stinging, his lungs bursting. Spud found the lever again and hung on. He kicked hard and the joystick swung left. Spud kept kicking until his eyes bulged and his air ran out. He exploded back to the surface, gulping down a lungful of oxygen and spluttering in the sea water. There was almost no room to breathe as the water neared the roof. He could no longer hear the radio.

  ‘Ma,’ he woofed, even though he knew no one could hear. ‘Is it a mission? Please let it be a real mission.’ He choked on a lungful of salty water. ‘I think it’s my first and last one.’

  The submarine shook as the missile launched. Spud’s head was now touching the ceiling of the submarine. Soon there would be no air left.

  ‘Yessss!’ yelled the professor back in the cave. ‘Agent Spud,’ he shouted excitedly, ‘fine work. The missile is launched but our radar shows it’s heading harmlessly out to sea. Over.’

  There was no reply.

  ‘Bro,’ barked Star, ‘can you hear us? You did it!’

  Still nothing came from the radio except a crackle. ‘Son?’ Lara whimpered.

  ‘I’m sure he’s fine, GM451,’ said the professor, smiling as best he could. ‘He’s a fighter.’ But as Star licked Lara’s face and they both curled up on the floor, he looked at Mr and Mrs Cook with a worried expression. Ben, Sophie and Ollie hugged their pets.

  ‘Spud is a hero,’ said Ben. ‘Just like his mum.’

  Back on the submarine, Spud’s legs were weary. He’d thought of everything but there were no more options. His oxygen pill had gone – donated to Lieutenant Black. I’ve done my very best. Nobody can ask more of me than that.

  The water was so high he could hardly bark. ‘I hope I’ve done well, Ma?’ he gurgled, choking on sea water. ‘I hope this was a real mission …’

  20. Dogs United

  Jimmy was a decent swimmer. The salt water stung his wrinkles but he didn’t mind. His missile was on its way. Blue Bay would be destroyed and his resort would become the number one tourist attraction in the country. He knew he couldn’t return, but the profits would still be his. All that lovely cash would be flooding into his offshore bank account.

  The water felt icy cold as he made his way slowly upwards towards the light and surfaced. He was a tiny dot in a big ocean. Jimmy took off his mask and turned 360 degrees. He could see a fishing boat in the near distance. Its bright light was sweeping across the ocean to search for buoys that showed where its fishing nets were laid.

  ‘Over here,’ Jimmy yelled, waving his arms in the air as the light swept past him. He smiled with relief as the boat chugged over to pick him up.

  ‘Bit late for a swim, isn’t it?’ called the fisherman from over the side of the boat. He attached a metal ladder to the side of the boat and Jimmy climbed in.

  Jimmy explained that he’d got lost while scuba diving and that he needed dropping off at Pleasure Island. The fisherman believed his lie and was happy to help, especially when Jimmy promised him a hefty payment in return. Jimmy figured that the authorities might be searching for him and that arriving by boat might draw attention. But his car was there and that was his best means of escape if he could somehow get to it. The police probably wouldn’t expect him to return to the island after everything that had gone on. He’d decided to take the risk.

  When Pleasure Island Beach was in sight, Jimmy thanked the skipper and jumped into the sea. Here’s hoping no one notices an early-morning swimmer, he thought, heading for the beach.

  *

  Ben filled his parents in on the finer details. Mum was very angry, but she managed to remain calm. It didn’t seem right to shout – not after what had happened to poor Spud.

  ‘And Jimmy and Mr Big wanted to make sure the final part of their plan went with a real bang,’ Sophie explained.

  ‘Indeed,’ nodded the professor, pushing his spectacles back up to the bridge of his nose. ‘They managed to get their hands on some nuclear material, so that final missile would have been a very big bang indeed.’

  ‘Where’s the missile now?’ asked Ollie.

  Professor Cortex checked Jimmy’s radar screen for the latest information. He pointed to a flashing light. ‘Thanks to our hero puppy,’ said the professor, brushing away a tear, ‘the missile is resting harmlessly on the seabed, approximately thirty miles off the coast. A Navy vessel is already on its way.’

  ‘And what about Jimmy?’ asked Mum. ‘Has there been any sighting of that horrible man?’

  Professor Cortex shook his head. ‘He will have had oxygen,’ he said. ‘So, provided he made it out of the sub in one piece, he could be anywhere. Maybe a boat picked him up. Or maybe he’s swimming for it. Who knows? We’ve got alerts going out down the coastline to look out for him.’ The scientist sank into a chair and sighed deeply. He closed his eyes and shook his head. ‘But Spud didn’t have oxygen and it’s all my fault,’ he muttered to himself. ‘If only I’d given Spud extra pills after he saved Lieutenant Black, I could have saved his life.’

  ‘You didn’t know this would happen,’ said Mr Cook, trying to make the professor feel better. ‘This was supposed to be a holiday, not an adventure!’

  Lara lay forlornly, her eyes drooping as much as her shoulders. Her sticky-up ear was at half-mast. I blame myself, she thought. It was me who encouraged Spud to attend spy training. It was me who taught him how to sniff out danger. Lara’s chest heaved with sadness. My boy, she howled. I’m so sorry.

  Star nuzzled closer, the dogs united in grief.

  21. Lesser Spotted Jimmy

  The Cook family returned to their apartment. The holiday spirit was well and truly extinguished. Sophie was gently weeping. Ben was biting his lip. As always, Ollie seemed fairly upbeat. ‘No point moping,’ he said. ‘Who wants to play on the beach?’

  Lara looked at Star. ‘Go on, girl,’ she encouraged. ‘A run on the sand will do you good. And it’ll cheer Ollie up too.’

  Star didn’t feel like having fun but she did what her mum asked. The other two children vegged out in front of the TV while Ollie and Star wandered outside for some fresh air.

  They got to the beach and Star looked out to sea, the grey ocean stretching to the horizon. Poor Spud, she thought. She kicked a ball about with Ollie for a few minutes, then went in goal while he practised his penalties. Star dived to her left and tipped the ball over the imaginary bar.

  ‘Cool save, Star,’ Ollie laughed.

  Thanks, she thought, perking up a bit. It is helping take my mind off things. Star kicked the ball back to Ollie. She looked at the ocean once more where a few people were splashing around. Most had their trouser legs rolled up and had braved it up to their knees. Crikey, she thought, look at him. A man emerged from the ocean wearing a face-mask. He looked exhausted, staggering up the beach, his knees wobbling. An oxygen tank, noted Star. But no wetsuit. He’s been underwater with no wetsuit! That poor man must be freezing.

  The man waded out of the sea. He looked around the beach and was about to take off his mask when he glanced in Star’s direction. Instead he looked quickly away and kept his mask in place, then threw off the tank and hurried nervously up the beach.

  Ollie’s next penalty hit Star on the back of the head and brought her to her senses. She shook herself alert. Star looked to the shoreline again but the man was gone. I wonder? she thought. ‘Ollie, you stay there,’ she woofed, holding her paw up to signal ‘stay’. ‘I’m going to check out Mr Face-mask.’

  Star bounded across the sand, her little legs a blur of speed. She stood at the end of the beach and looked left, then right. There he is! The man was crouched down beside a car. He felt around on top of the front wheel and pulled out a set of keys that were hidden there.

  I hope that’s his car, she thought. And he sure looks nervous. He’s too far away to identify, especially with that stupid swimming mask on.

  Star bounded towards the man. He opened the car door and pulled a backpack off the front seat. He wriggled into dry clothes and, finally, he peeled off his mask. Star could only see the back of his head. Hmm … I wonder?

  The man turned to check he had escaped. His red eyes met Star’s gaze.

  Jimmy! she snarled.

  ‘Dratted puppy,’ he shouted, jumping into the car, slamming the door and starting the engine.

  ‘You horrible puppy-killer,’ yelped Star. ‘You’ll pay for what you did to my brother!’

  The car screeched away, spraying sand in Star’s face. She was a super-fit puppy, top of her class, but she was no match for a car. Think, Star, think. I know! she remembered. George’s skateboard. Ben brought it on hols. He was going to have a go this morning, he said.

  Star sprinted back to the beach.

  ‘C’mon, Ollie,’ she shouted. ‘There’s a baddie on the loose!’

  Ollie raced after Star as she bounded towards the apartment. Ben was just opening the door as they arrived, skateboard under his arm. She jumped up at him, grabbed the skateboard and was out again before he’d realized what was happening.

  Ollie watched as Star pulled the ripcord and the skateboard engine spluttered into life. ‘That’s George’s,’ he said. ‘I don’t think it’s for dogs.’

  Well, this dog is on a mission, she thought. I can’t let Jimmy get away scot-free! Star had seen George practising on the skateboard. He was always strapped in and then lay flat, using his body weight to steer the professor’s invention. Nought to sixty in five seconds, she’d heard the professor brag. I’ve not got time to strap myself in, she thought. So I’ll just lie flat and hold on tight. Star dropped to her tummy. She pressed the accelerator with her nose and she was away. Puppy versus baddie – it’s my turn to be a hero!

  22. The Sixty-Mile-an-Hour Dog

  Star went steadily at first, her ears flapping in the wind. The roads were narrow and there were people everywhere. She had a near-miss with an old lady in a wheelchair. ‘Oops, sorry,’ yapped the speeding dog as she went through the legs of a man walking back from the beach.

  Star threw her body right, then left, getting used to steering. Her face was very close to the road. Yikes, she thought, it’s whizzing by very fast! She bumped up a kerb and zoomed on to a straight bit of tarmac. This is the bridge that connects Pleasure Island to the mainland, she thought. Long, straight and very, very fast. Star pushed her nose against the throttle and the engine screamed. The skateboard shot along at full speed, Star’s whiskers and fur blowing in the gale. She hit a drain and was nearly thrown off. Yikes, that was close!

  As she raced along, she could see Jimmy’s get-away car a hundred metres in the distance. He was driving slowly – there was no need to draw attention to himself.

  There’s a red light up ahead. Oh dear, thought Star, taking a big gulp. Not sure I can stop in time?

  She was right. The skateboarding dog shot through the lights, engine whining, the canine driver howling. The green man was flashing and pedestrians leapt out of the way as the puppy wailed her way through the junction. She veered under a lorry and heard a squeal of brakes as the driver tried to avoid her. Star shot out the other side. ‘Sorry,’ she howled. Can’t stop, baddie to catch.

 

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