“Sparky?”
It had to be a bluff.
“Sparky, from Asquith? The Simms’s ranch?” Dr. Fudge clapped his hands together. “Really little one, you should speak up in your defense.”
Sparky tested his restraints again, even stronger than he had dreamed they could be. He looked at the man and cocked his head, boisterously.
“So, you figure this all out on your own? Who did you tap? The agent, the dog, the girl?”
“My dear goat,” the doctor stepped towards him, “I figured to learn about the child, who better to study than the parent.”
Sparky’s mother had passed when he was still a very young kid. His father had been a neighbor stud and unknown to him. Both were long gone by the time he could really remember. Back before he and the others in his heard had changed. He had faint memories of his mother, though. Oliver had filled in for her, building a loving relationship with him in her stead. The Simm’s Ranch…Oliver!
“Yes, the old man who reported you lost. I know everything about your past. But I want to know what he couldn’t tell me. I want to know about your mind, how you operate.”
“Where is he? What have you done with him?”
“He’s not of your concern. Tell me what I want to hear,” Dr. Fudge said. “Tell me about yourself. I am impressed by you in particular. Did you make it all the way from that tiny little farm on your own? It must have been so terrifying in the human world, alone. However did you make it? Please tell.”
The doctor produced a large knife from behind his back.
Sparky deliberated his position. Oliver could have met with a terrible fate. Maybe that was the old man’s blood on the table. Fudge was clearly unreasonable. Sparky feared not for himself, but for his lady, for his children. If Oliver had been tortured here, would not all their fates be the same?
“Not going to talk?”
Is it his story that the man wants? Does the scientist truly want to hear what happened?
“I woke up one morning and found everyone missing. Oliver was there. He tried to comfort me. He thought he had done something wrong. When I found out about the kidnapping, I left to find them.”
“All on your own?”
Dr. Fudge settled in to listen.
“Yes.”
What harm could it do?
Chapter 104
“So you fought these men? All of them? Alone?” The doctor was sitting at the edge of his seat.
Sparky had been going on for at least an hour.
“No, Frank pitched in, and we took them down together. But he’s not much of a fighter.”
“You had some adventure. This is very interesting.”
“So what are you going to do with this, doctor? Where is this going?” He had felt that even though the bonds were still just as tight as they been an hour ago, the man’s intentions were loosening up.
“I want to study you completely.”
“You’re not going to cut me open though, on a table?”
“No, I figure not. You are very valuable to me.”
Sparky sighed.
“I have plenty of others goats to cut open. Maybe I will offer to let you work with me. Help me bridge the gaps between our races. Someday when I retire again, you can come to my estate as a conversation piece.”
If someone only got a glance of Sparky in that moment they may have thought that the goat was indeed a mock statue of a man in prison, possibly Greek in origin, with the head of a satyr and cursed with hooves; encased completely in stone by some angry goddess.
“You look surprised? I don’t want to mislead you. It is my intention to use you to further myself. I don’t have the luxury of time, being an older man. I need to get as much as I can from you before time tears me from this world.”
Sparky’s lips pursed as his mind hunted for words, but he found nothing. “Oh.”
“So continue your story. I wish to know more about you and Frank. Where is Frank by the way?”
“He, uh, he didn’t make it.”
“He is dead?”
Sparky nodded slowly. The phone on the table spoke without warning.
“Sir. You have a visitor, doctor.” It was a man’s voice, one that Sparky did not recognize.
“Who is it?” One eyebrow lifted on Dr. Fudge’s face.
“City inspector, here for fire inspection.”
“Can’t Reilly handle this?”
“He is still recovering sir. I am not sure that he has stopped bleeding.”
He dare he! “I’m on my way.”
The sourness of Dr. Fudge’s lower lip folded into a frown. “Well I’m sure you don’t mind if I have someone get a little information from you, while I take care of this?”
Sparky shook his head.
The doctor left the room and then returned, producing another man in a white coat.
“Go ahead and get everything, but don’t be too hard on him. He’s being very cooperative.”
Sparky and the stranger nodded heads courteously with introductions. “Sparky this is my assistant, Dr. Kline.”
“How are you?” Sparky asked.
Dr. Kline nodded at Sparky. Dr. Fudge exited the room, the door sealed them in silence. Dr. Kline went to the table by Sparky. There were many sharp instruments laid out, as well as an assortment of tubes and needles.
“You don’t have to do the scare thing, Fudge already covered that.”
“Wonderful.”
Dr. Kline lifted a scalpel from the table, letting the light glint off of it. He set it back down and grabbed another, wiping it down with a white cloth. He steamed it with his breath and wiped it down again.
“Do you want me to continue where I left off?”
Dr. Kline looked over from the table, moving his right hand carefully over each tool, as he scratched his chin with his left. “Excuse me?”
“Didn’t Fudge want you to get the rest of the story?”
“You could say that.”
Sparky could not see under the doctors hand which tool he hovered over. “So you want me to start where I left off?”
“You might do better keeping quiet. This might not be comfortable.”
“Now that you mention it, if you could loosen the straps it would be really great.”
The scalpel waved in the air. Dr. Kline picked up a small metal tray with three small plastic strips.
“Now hold still.”
The restraints were doing their job nicely. He started to laugh. Then there came a knock to the door.
“That was fast.” Dr. Kline opened, expecting to see Dr. Fudge. What he saw instead was a janitor cart.
“What? What is this?” Dr. Kline started to close the door but the cart surged in, blocking the doorway. He took a step back, startled that it had moved on its own.
“Got to work here. Move it.”
From behind the cart a small white hat appeared. He wasn’t familiar with any short men on the staff. Dr. Kline pushed the cart back outside.
“I don’t know you. Besides, this area is off limits!”
“Damn you, I must clean!” The male said.
The cart darted forward, running over Dr. Kline’s foot.
“Ouch, what is your problem. Off limits! Get out!” Dr. Kline braced his arms on the cart and pushed back.
“You dirty meat bag! Move your ass!” The cart slammed into Kline’s leg. He retreated, holding his leg.
“You shrimp! I’ll bait a hook with your corpse!” The man grabbed the cart and ran with it into the hallway. The cart hit with the opposing wall a thud. In one move he had overcome the adversary half his size. Dr. Kline worried he had gone too far. He pulled back the cart and looked for the troublesome janitor. There was no one there.
He checked the other side and again no one. The door to the lab closed behind him and the lock clicked.
Chapter 105
The main warehouse was empty. Staged with new pens for more goats that would be the control herd. Surely the strange
r would be kept under watch, not left to wander alone. Where is he?
Dr. Fudge went to the wall panel and rang through to his security staff. No answer. His heart rate ticked up. Fudge trotted to the door to the storeroom for Sparky's herd, there he froze. His ears picked up odd noise coming from the goat store room.
Laughter?
Was it the goats that were laughing? They should be anything but happy. He leaned up and peered through the window on the door. Inside were a handful of his workers, crowding around a stranger. How could they be so stupid?
Dr. Fudge ran his hand over his thin gray hair, flattening it down. He brushed out the wrinkles from his white coat. He would greet the stranger with a smile. He pushed through the double doors. Fudge's assistants chuckled as a young, hungry goat jumped up and down in the cage, while the intrusive stranger dangled a candy bar over it. Fudge could see nothing that pointed to the man being any kind of inspector.
“Wow, they really can dance, can’t they?” Basil dropped in a piece of the candy bar and the kid scooped it up in a bite.
“Do not feed them!” Dr. Fudge screamed at the man, breaking his calm exterior.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Little guy looked hungry.”
“My animals are on strict diets, mister?”
“Lain, Basil Lain, Ministry of Animal Health.” Basil extended a formal handshake.
Fudge did not reach out for it. “I wasn’t aware you made visits at ten in the evening.”
“I’ve been on the road, just got back in from Nova Scotia. You should see the ocean this time of year, it’s magnificent.”
“I’m sure.” Dr. Fudge tilted his head. The man appeared familiar. ”What can I do for you, Mr. Lain?”
“I was waiting to speak with the man in charge.”
“That is myself. Dr. Raymond Fudge.”
“Excellent, you must be fully aware that the Ministry of Animal Health is in the business of protecting against the mistreatment of animals.”
“My animals are hardly mistreated.”
“Doctor, I don’t see one bowl of food or water, nor is there ample lighting in here. These animals are living in their own filth. I have seen some bad places before, but this is unheard of.”
Dr. Fudge held back his anger, searching for words.
“How do you account for this, doctor?” Basil pressed.
“These animals were only recently delivered to my care." Fudge pointed at his work staff. "My assistants were checking them for any traces of disease and it's imperative that they complete their work before we bring in such things. Surely you are aware of proper procedure, the screening of animals prior to feeding them. Lord knows how quickly disease can spread once there is contaminated food.”
Basil looked at the doctor’s assistants. They all nodded in accordance with the balding man. “Great, would it be okay for me to watch the screenings? For my report.”
“Report?”
“Yes, I can’t just do a complete inspection and not turn in a report.”
“Of course.” Dr. Fudge signaled his assistants to get to work, although they weren’t sure what they should be doing.
They five men broke away and dispersed among the cages, looking over each goat carefully. When they approached the cages any of the goats would avoid them completely, except for those too tired or hungry to stand.
Basil watched from Dr. Fudge’s side, noting the assistants' ineptness with their assignment. He spotted the truth in the way the men moved; uncertain, shaky. Ex-con was everywhere but tattooed on their foreheads.
“So, I’m sorry, what kind of research do you do here?” Basil asked.
“Product safety.”
One of the assistants came to the cage where Basil had made the little goat dance. He stuck his hand in, grasping wildly for the goat. The animal sprang away, darting from one side to the next.
Basil shook his head. “This doesn’t look like they really get a good check of the animals.”
“Honestly, this is the best way to do this. It allows the staff to bond with them slowly." Fudge propped himself forward on his feet, standing resolute with his words.
“I see,” Basil checked his watch. Frank must have found Sparky by now. The two should be out of the building.
“Doctor.” Basil knew the familiar voice too well as Reilly pushed in through the doors.
A chill went through Basil’s spine. It was not the voice he wanted to hear.
“Yes?” Fudge met Reilly face to face as the large man entered the room. He immediately recognized the Special Agent.
“What is he doing here?”
“He is with the Ministry of Animal Health.” Fudge replied.
Reilly charged Basil. Basil reached for his sidearm. The agent unholstered his weapon and raised it free from his belt. Reilly dove. The two hit the ground. Basil and his gun went their separate ways as they crashed to the floor. Basil's shoulders took the brunt on the fall. Reilly pinned Basil to the floor. Reilly’s large frame made it easy for him to keep hold over the Basil, despite his wound.
“He’s police.” Reilly growled, pushing Basil’s shoulders to the concrete.
Basil took a deep breath. The cement floor had taken the wind out of him. “CBI actually.” Basil strained to roll. He kicked his legs. Reilly drove his head against Basil’s. An audible thud was heard by all as Basil’s head bounced against the solid ground.
Basil cried out. Reilly stood up. Basil rolled over and lifted himself up on all fours. He hunted for his gun, but it was out of sight; probably in the hands of the doctor’s assistants. His eyes met with a young white coated goat in the cage directly in front of him. Reilly kicked him in the side and Basil collapsed again. This was not part of the plan.
“Really?” Dr. Fudge was tickled pink. “Much better! Here I thought Carmine had called in a surprise inspection on us. This will be much easier to deal with. Was there something else, Reilly?”
One of the assistants passed Basil’s gun to the doctor.
Reilly kept a watchful eye on the agent. “Wanted you to know the control group is here.”
Basil put his arms under him but could not lift himself from the ground. He fell back down gasping for more air.
“Excellent, begin sorting them at once.” Dr. Fudge strode over to Basil, placing his foot on the man’s back. “Tell me, what does the CBI want with me?”
Chapter 106
Frank backed away from the sealed door. It had locked on its own. He flashed his wagging tongue to Sparky, still standing upright. “Just make sure this scene makes it into the movie!”
“What movie?”
“I was talking with Basil. I might have a place in show business with you. He said I’m welcome to follow you guys to Hollywood. Maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s time I allowed myself to get famous.”
“Maybe it’s time you untied me?” Sparky could not believe the dog was back to wanting fame; especially amid their current plight. “Aren’t you still afraid of dissection?”
Frank looked over the room intended for just such purposes. “Well, a little, but it would be a small price to pay for stardom!” Frank bounded up onto the table next to the goat and started gnawing on the straps. He bit at the thick restraint around the goat's right foreleg. Thicker than rawhide for sure. Frank gave a second hard chomp then clamped down and twisted his jaw.
"Now you are listening to Basil?" Sparky flinched as Frank tugged at his fur. "Watch it."
The handle on the door jiggled. Heavy pounding followed. The sound reverberated in the room. Frank yanked again, the strap had taken on a mess of drool, but held firm.
"These things are not easy to bite through."
"What about the latch?"
Frank studied the restraint. The strap weaved through two clamps, both of which were tightly latched down with keyholes that Frank could never hope to pick. The reinforced leather resisted the dog's biting.
"No good, need a knife or a key." Frank pulled back.
/>
The banging on the door continued. "Open this door right now!"
Sparky tilted his head towards the table on the other side. "What about those?"
Frank leaned up and spotted the numerous surgical tools. With a quick leap over the goat he hit the floor and then propped up on the table picking through with his mouth. It was a selective process to find a tool that he could wield with only his teeth.
The door rattled once more in its hinges, then stopped. Sparky strained to see the sealed portal, he listened for something more. The outside had fallen quiet.
Frank looked over the table and chomped down on a long narrow scalpel. The slender blade had a slight curve. He slid the knife under the restraint alongside Sparky’s wrist. The goat turned away, the long blade looked dangerously sharper than anything he would have trusted to the clumsy dog.
Frank spoke with the knife clenched in his maw. “Try not to squirm or move or breathe or anything.”
Sparky felt the slick metal move back in forth over his fur and grate against his flesh. A sudden audible snap and he could move his arm. The stiffness gave way as he flexed his released forelimb. Sparky seized the knife in his hoof and snapped the other restraints. He climbed down from the table and gave Frank a gentle pat on the head.
“Thanks, where’s Basil?”
“He’s supposed to be looking for your herd.”
The handle of the door sprang turned and the door flew open. Dr. Kline charged in. He paused looking over the freed goat and the dog. “Get back on the table, goat.”
“What’s the plan Sparks?” Frank took a step back from the white coated man.
There was only one way to go now. “Goat-Fu.” Sparky raised his hooves.
The doctor drew back his torso and put up his arms with his hands in knife form. “I know Judo.”
Sparky nodded his head keeping his eyes locked with Dr. Kline’s. He remembered Judo. He was not afraid of Judo.
Dr. Kline grunted a loud kiup. He dashed forward at the goat. Sparky set his horns down to absorb the man. The doctor stopped short of tackling the goat and swept at Sparky's legs with his right foot. Sparky toppled to the ground on top of Frank.
Dr. Kline came down over Sparky with a solid hammer fist striking the goat's cheek. The sting of pain roared across his face. The man stepped back and returned to his fighting stance. He gave a slight chuckle.
“I warned you. Now get back on the table.”