[DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the PAW Patrol characters, and this story is inspired by characters and circumstances by many great authors, including Robert Ludlum, Ian Fleming, and Tom Clancy.]
The scent and smoke and sweat of a freighter ship are nauseating at two in the morning of its last night at sea. The soul erosion caused by piloting a gigantic floating warehouse around the planet becomes unbearable and the senses revolt against it.
Captain Ramko Marius stifled a yawn and rubbed his eyes. A long seventeen-day journey across the ocean was nearing its end, and he would be awfully glad. His first mate usually handled the night shift, but Marius – a grizzled sailor with decades of experience – always like to be the one to pilot his ship into port at the end of a journey.
And in just a few hours, they would be pulling into the port at Foggy Bottom, dropping off their load of high-definition televisions, mobile telephones, and appliances.
He rubbed his eyes and scanned the horizon. It was a clear, brightly moonlit night – although he knew that it would somehow be dark and dank by the time they reached Foggy Bottom.
With a disdainful ptooey, he spit out the sunflower seed shells that had been tucked in his left cheek. He had committed to trying to quit smoking cigarettes, an almost impossible task when surrounded by dozens of Eastern European sailors who it seemed polished off a pack in their sleep (and about three more per day while awake). But, he admitted, there was little else to do most of the time. Unless there were storms around, the process of crossing the ocean had become as rote and driving to work in the morning.
His eyes caught what seemed to be a glint of metal, coming up just off the starboard bow. It disappeared for a moment, then flashed again. It was probably nothing, but it couldn't hurt to be sure.
"Cut the engine!" he called to the navigator, and he dashed out on to the deck.
Marius saw something bobbing in the water, a small piece of metal gleaming on one end when the moonlight hit it just right. One of his crewmembers joined him at the rail.
"It looks like a dog," the crewmember, whose name was Vasily, said.
"Get the hook," Maruis said.
Vasily grabbed a long-handled hook from the wall and handed it to Marius.
"A dog wearing a life preserver," Marius noted as reached the hook out and lodged it underneath the vest. "Most unusual. Give me a hand here, Vasily."
The two men strained to pull the dog up by the hook. With a waterlogged thud, it fell to the deck.
"Looks like a German Shepherd," Vasily noted. He crouched down at its side and placed his hand on its chest. "It's alive."
Marius kneeled beside them as well. He found the metal piece that was gleaming in the moonlight – a broken dog tag with a star on it.
Vasily lifted his hand into the moonlight. It was wet, but not just with water. Drops of red liquid fell to the ship's deck.
"And it's bleeding," he said.