“Oh, no,” said Dooley, fully on board now, his brain firing on all cylinders—which was just the one, in his case, but he definitely made it count. “Max, we have to save her!”
Dooley, who was president of the Harriet Fan Club long before Brutus had entered the picture, seemed even more anxious than his rival in love.
“The problem is that she went there of her own volition,” I said. “Which makes it hard to organize an extraction.” I’d seen plenty of action movies where SEAL Team Six goes in to save some hapless civilian, only to discover that said civilian has sold our heroes down the river, to be faced with the drug kingpin’s wrath until all that’s left is SEAL Team Zero.
Dooley stared at me, wide-eyed.“You mean…”
“I mean that Harriet could very well sell us to the Dieber, and before we know it we’ll be the ones stuck in Kabul, Mogadishu, Damascus or possibly even Kinshasa, Congo.”
“I don’t want to go to Congo, Max,” Dooley intimated. “I’ll bet they don’t even have Cat Snax there.”
“Who cares about Cat Snax?!” Brutus thundered. He’d been following the discussion with rising impatience. “We go in. We snatch Harriet. We get out. It’s as simple as that.”
“And what if she doesn’t want to be snatched?” I asked. “We can’t very well force her to leave with us, Brutus.”
“We could sedate her,” Dooley suggested. “Give her a shot of some mysterious clear liquid that will knock her out until she’s safe and sound back here. It’s what Bruce would do.”
“And where are you going to find this mysterious clear liquid?” I asked.
“Um…”
“Exactly.”
“Look, you guys, we have to at least try,” said Brutus. “She doesn’t know what she’s gotten herself into. This Diego character will prove her downfall, and I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t know I’d done whatever it took to save her from a fate worse than death.”
“What’s a fate worse than death?” asked Dooley.
“Being shipped off to some rabid Bedieber, of course!” Brutus cried. “Now are you with me or not? If not, I’m going out there alone—do or die!”
“I’m with you, Brutus,” said Dooley. “Though I’d rather do than die.”
“Me, too,” I said. “I’m a doer not a dier.”
And so we touched paws on it. Mission Save Harriet was officially a go.
Chapter 25
We were back at the Dieber compound, a place I thought I’d left in my rearview mirror. Then again, one has to put aside one’s misgivings when one’s friend is in grave danger. It may surprise you that cats, who have a reputation for being selfish and individualistic, would come to the aid of a friend. But if I didn’t do this, I’d never hear theend of it from Brutus and Dooley, Harriet’s biggest champions in the entire world.
And I had to admit I kinda liked the feisty Persian, too. She might be a pain in the patootie but she was also a dear friend. Even though her Diego fixation was exasperating.
The moment we were past the gate, we moved in single file, just in case the enemy was lying in wait, and kept our ears to the ground and our eyes peeled, so to speak.
“Enemy activity at our six,” Brutus suddenly whispered.
“Six? What’s our six?” asked Dooley.
“Our rear!” he hissed.
I looked over my shoulder while Dooley checked out his butt. A guard was having a smoke and taking a stroll in the garden. He didn’t look particularly dangerous to cats.
“Another bogey at one o’clock!” Brutus warned.
“A booger?” asked Dooley.
“Not a booger! A bogey!”
“What’s a bogey?”
“I have no idea, Dooley,” I said. I did see a cat lying on his back on the lawn, four paws in the air, his mouth open and a trickle of drool on his fur, clearly enjoying the feel of the sun on his jelly belly. How Brutus would know that this cat’s name was Bogey I did not know, nor did I care. All I cared about was making sure we weren’t captured by the Dieber and shipped off to some godforsaken place to live with one of his crazed Bediebers, no Cat Snax in sight.
Brutus suddenly held up his paw, claws clenched into a fist.“Sitrep! Stat!”
“Please speak English, Brutus,” I said. “I have no idea what you’re saying.”
“We need to draw up a plan of campaign. I suggest we split up. Max, you cover the left flank, Dooley draws a bead on the right flank, and I’ll engage from the front. Oorah!”
And he charged ahead, leaving Dooley and me to stare after him in bewilderment.
“Um. What did he just say, Max?” asked Dooley.
“No idea, Dooley. Let’s just go and find Harriet. That’s what we’re here for.”
“I like that,” he said gratefully.
At a slight distance we followed Brutus and soon found ourselves in the pool area again, which was where Dieber Babes liked to hang out—both the human variety and the feline. Today wasn’t any different. Dozens of young women were frolicking around in the pool, the Dieber himself the center of attention as he plunged around on an inflatable turtle, and wherever I looked I saw cats taking it all in their stride. Guarding this scene of peculiar bliss were powerfully built men and women, their heads swiveling continuously, their eyes roving, and little plastic thingies plucked into their ears which from time to time they touched with their fingers, at which point they spoke a few words to themselves.
Like I said, humans never think other humans can see them talking to themselves, which is kinda cute, actually.
“I don’t see her, Max,” Dooley informed me. “I don’t see Harriet.”
“Neither do I, Dooley. She must be inside.”
And we were stealthily moving towards the house when suddenly a familiar cat blocked our access. It was Diego, and if possible he looked even more obnoxious than usual.
“No pasar?n, dudes,” he was saying.
“We’re not here for the pasaran,” Dooley said. “We’re here to find Harriet.”
“Though while we’re here we might sample some of your pasaran,” I said. I rubbed my tummy. “I’m feeling a little peckish.”
Diego grinned.“I should have remembered you two have the mental capacity of a common housefly. What I meant to say was: you shall not pass!”
“Ooh! I’ve seen that movie!” Dooley said excitedly. “Um… It’s on the tip of my tongue. I want to say…The Goonies? No!Gremlins! It’sGremlins, right?! I likeGremlins.”
A scowl marred Diego’s features at this demonstration ofGame of Fortune.“Idiots! What I’m trying to get through your thick skulls is that you can’t go in!”
“Why? Is something burning?” I asked, genuinely surprised by this cat’s insistence.
“I’m in charge here now!” he cried. “And I don’t want you here! Capeesh?”
“Oh.” I finally saw what he meant now.
“You’re in charge now?” asked Dooley. “Charlie must like you a lot, Diego, to put you in charge of his house.”
“Not in charge of the house, you dimwit,” he snarled. “In charge of the Dieber Babes. And I’m forbidding you access to the house. So you better get lost or else.”
“Or else what?” asked Dooley, genuinely interested.
Diego held up a menacing paw, extending his nails. The scene reminded me ofNightmare on Elm Street, a movie I’d wanted to unsee ever since I watched it with Odelia. For some strange reason she loves horror movies. I most emphatically do not.
I gulped, and so did Dooley. Not only was there no pasaran in this house, there was no neighborliness either.
But just then, a second cat materialized from the relative obscurity inside and drew up next to Diego. It was Clarice.“Oh, why don’tyou get lost, Diego?” she asked irritably.
“You get lost,” Diego growled, harping on his favorite theme. “Or I’ll cut you.”
It was not something anyone had ever said to Clarice, I imagined, and I could see her expression darken into a vicious scowl. The next moment, a regular catfight ensued, and soon fur was flying and shrieks of pain were sounding. Within seconds, Diego bolted off in the direction of the garden, leaving a few drops of blood and a nice pile of orange fur on the floor. Clarice, who sat casually licking her paws, said,“There’s something you need to see.”