Hey everyone. Sorry I took so long. Usually winter feels like it offers extra time to write, but sometimes not so much. I guess it just feels like more time when I'm working a job so slow no one minds if I write on the side, but I'm getting off track.
Before we begin I should explain that I went back and made a few logistical changes to how the team gets around. For those who've been following I'll save you the trouble of backtracking. Since New Mexico is so far from any sizable bodies of water, their sub doesn't sit in a pool of water. Instead they keep it in dry dock and transport it by plane when they expect to need it.
Also, sorry if the accents aren't very good. Not that experienced writing them, so please bear with me and by all means tell me how I can improve.
Out in the desert of New Mexico, a large monolithic-looking structure hidden under a massive sand hill opened up. Out of it shot a small private jet carrying the team of canine heroes.
"Exile," Hunter tried to explain as they reached cruising altitude, "Master didn't actually kill anything."
"But he said he killed expression," Exile pressed.
Hunter smacked himself in the face. "No, no," he insisted. "The part about killing was the expression. He only killed it figuratively."
The husky's face scrunched and his ears leaned back in confusion. "How do you kill figuratively? What kind of expression is kill?"
"Ruh rayrih rih rahp," Shag interjected.
"Yeah, what he said," Hunter explained, jerking a thumb at the sheepdog.
"What did he say?" asked Exile.
Hunter sighed. This would be exasperating if it wasn't kind of funny. "Look, kill can mean to make something stop living, but it also means to make something stop – like the kill switch in the equipment shop."
"You mean button that shuts off all dangerous tools?"
"Yeah, that."
"Ohhhh," said the husky, nodding as if he finally got it. Then he stopped as something else came to him. "So what is contract?"
Hunter laughed awkwardly and shrugged. He had come across some news article about a celebrity contracting a disease at some point, but that made absolutely no sense here. "Uh, to be honest, I have no idea."
Colleen rolled her eyes. "Well, while you gents discuss the finer points of the English language, I think I'll go make sure I know my way around the sub's controls."
Blitz immediately rose to follow her. "I am an expert on sub controls. I will help you."
With her back turned, he couldn't see her grimace – not that it would have made much impression anyway. "Um, thanks so much, but I was thinking of Exile, actually."
"Me?" asked Exile, turning in some surprise.
"Go ahead, Exile," Hunter encouraged. "You've been spending so much time with the machines, you should know them like the back of your paw."
"Hand," corrected Colleen.
Hunter shook his head. "But we're dogs. Dogs have paws."
"Not anymore, we don't," she argued, propping her wrists on her hips in annoyance. "We've got hands now."
"Well, they still call it a paw if it's on a monkey," Hunter pointed out.
Colleen threw up a whatever-it-was in exasperation. Blitz, who had been moving around behind her for some reason and starting to lean in close, was somehow just in time to get slapped on the nose.
"Oh, never mind," Colleen muttered, oblivious as Blitz stepped back clutching his olfactory organ. "Come on, Exile. Show me the ropes."
Blitz remembered from their tour of the various vehicles they'd be using that the cockpit was pretty small. He'd been looking forward to sharing a confined space with Colleen, but having Exile in there – and more specifically having him occupy Colleen's attention – changed the picture considerably.
"Depth gauge is good-ski," the husky announced. "Power supplies are full, all diagnostics dokey-okey…"
Colleen leaned over the back of the pilot's seat where Exile was sitting. "You're pretty good at this," she observed in a flattering tone.
Exile blushed slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Is piece of beans," he boasted. "Can of cake, really."
"Dat's piece of cake and can of beans," Blitz corrected testily. "Listen, snowball, why don't you bug ou-"
He stopped at a look from Colleen. Maybe showing everyone who was boss wasn't the way to impress her.
"I mean, I'm the leadah this time, and I know this stuff pretty well myself. Let me show the pretty she-dog how it's done."
Colleen shook her head. A dirty look from her had checked his rudeness toward Exile, but he still seemed to have forgotten that 'the pretty she-dog' had a name. "Alright, mistah," she challenged, gesturing to the array of navigational instruments. "Which one of these is the compass?"
Blitz frowned and regarded the panel uneasily. "Um, uh… this one?" he asked, pointing.
Colleen shrugged and folded her arms. "Go on, Exile," she advised.
The doberman growled in the back of his throat, not at all pleased that Exile was getting the upper hand in their little contest. He bit his lip, though. Better to make his move when Exile was out of the way.
It didn't take a rocket scientist to guess what Blitz was thinking, of course.
As fast as the jet went, it wasn't that long until they were beyond the California coastline and over open water.
"Alright," announced Blitz. "Time to split up."
Hunter scratched his head. "Wouldn't it make more sense to get close to the island first? Pretty sure we'll make better time with the jet.
"Dah jet will go fastah if it's not carrying dah sahb," Blitz countered. "Besides, I'm leadah this time, remembah?"
"Oh, right," Hunter conceded. "Okay, you and Colleen-"
"Uh-uh, I'm giving dah ordahs," Blitz cut him off. He waved to Colleen. "Let's get to de sahb."
Colleen rolled her eyes and cast a perturbed look at Hunter.
What'd I do? wondered Hunter. First Colleen seemed like she didn't want to be around him, and now she was annoyed… what, because she wasn't going to be around him?
Blitz and Colleen vanished through the back of the plane, and the door whirred shut. The plane's cargo hold had been modified to function as a kind of air lock, so that opening the doors back there wouldn't effect the cockpit. A minute later, Colleen's voice buzzed through the radio.
"Alright, Huntuh, take her down."
Hunter steered the plane into a decline, then leveled off a few feet above the ocean and switched to Hover Mode. Outside, jets directed down at the ground switched on while the main units all but shut down.
"You guys both ready?" he asked.
"Yah, get us going already," chafed Blitz's voice through the speaker.
After some brief thought to asking Colleen one more time what the issue was, Hunter pushed a button to open the bomb bay doors. They could hear a splash, both from outside the plane and through the radio, as the sub hit the water.
"All set?"
"Roger that," came Colleen's voice. "See you at the island, Huntie."
Hunter stopped, a stunned look coming over his face. "Did you just call me Huntie?"
Silence.
"Colleen?"
When she didn't answer, he checked the instrument panel to make sure the sub wasn't issuing a distress signal. Nothing.
"Okay, we're off. We'll meet you at the island." Shifting a couple of controls, he turned off the hover jets and gunned the forward ones, climbing back toward the sky.
Silence reigned in the space that followed, but eventually Shag piped up. "Ruh rah rih roo reh rahree?" he asked.
Hunter frowned uneasily. "I don't know, Shag." Sighing, he added, "And honestly, I'd rather not talk about it."
"Talk about what?" asked Exile.
"Well, if I told you then I'd be talking about it."
Unable to penetrate that kind of logic, Exile returned his gaze to the plane's console. Now he was really worried – partly on account of his friend, and partly because of the bet. Whatever the cause of Colleen's displeasure, he wanted to be sure not to repeat it – especially if he was going to win the bet with Blitz.
'Wonder what they are up to anyway?' he thought, his mind drifting to the other two members of their team somewhere far, far below.
Down in the sub, Colleen watched Blitz fumble with the controls. Despite thorough training and the refresher course from Exile, it was clear that the doberman was way, way off his game.
"Here," she invited, tapping him on the shoulder. "Why don't you let me take that off your 'ands, govnuh?"
At first he scowled at her, incensed at this effort to take control. However, a charming smile from the collie swiftly disarmed him and sent him drawing back, drumming his fingers together.
"So, ahhh, does this thing have an autopilot? You know, in case we have to do someting else?"
Colleen rolled her eyes, seeing that she had only traded one nuisance for another. Well, I know my bottom's staying in this seat for the rest of the trip, she thought to herself.
At first she held onto that resolution, but as the voyage dragged on Blitz grew more annoying. When it became clear that his efforts to strike up a ormantic conversation – or what passed for it in his mind – were ineffective, he asked about taking over the controls.
Colleen ignored him.
"Lady, I am talking with you!" he exclaimed, just about at his temper's limit.
The use of that generic word pushed a red button in Colleen's psyche. A small red button, but a red button none the less. Instead of snap something like, 'This "lady" has a name, you know,' she decided to try a more creative approach.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said brightly, pivoting her chair to face him. "I didn't see you sitting there. I'm Colleen. Have we met?"
He frowned in confusion and annoyance. "Of course we've met."
She stared at him with an air of childlike innocence, cocking her head to one side. "Hmm, not making the connection."
"I'm Blitz!" he snapped impatiently. "The leadah of this mission?"
Colleen turned her gaze to the ceiling, tapping her chin. "Blitz, Blitz. No, that's not working for me." She brightened suddenly, her eyes widening and her mouth bending into an exaggerated smile. "I know! I'll give you a brand-new name! Something that bettah suits your winning personality."
"Huh?"
She clasped her hands together, closing her eyes like she was thinking of something unimaginably sweet. "Yes, from now on let's call you Mistuh Fluffypants."
Blitz's eyes hardened and his brow seemed to grow visibly darker – which, considering the fur up there was already black, was quite a statement. "Let's not."
"Mistuh Stuffington Fluffypants! Oh, Fluffy for short."
This last was too much, and Blitz's eyes flashed with anger. "Stop calling me that or I'll bite you!"
Okay, so subtlety wasn't doing it. Time for Plan C. "Oh yeah? With whose dentures, Fluffy?"
In the jet above, a loud burst of static came from the sub's radio, mingled with what sounded like crashing and yelling.
"Exile, check up on them," ordered Hunter.
Exile was already grabbing the handset. "Blitz! Everything dokey-okey down there?"
Blitz's voice came through sounding dazed and stupefied. Well, more stupefied than usual. "Just call me Fluffyyyy..." he groaned through more static.
The husky grimaced. "Don't be weird boy," he advised. "Colleen, are you down there?"
There was a pause. "Speaking, gents. Did you miss me?"
As a matter of fact Exile did miss her, but that was beside the point. "What is going on down there?"
Her voice implied her shrug. "Oh, nothing to write home about. Our headache just has another headache, that's all."
Hunter picked up his own set. "Easy on Blitz, Colleen. It's not nice to pick on people who can't fight back, remember?"
An annoyed huff came through. "I'm not sure whether to take that as a compliment. Ta-ta." She clicked off.
"Ruh ruh rahh ruh-row?" asked Shag.
Both of the other guys could only shrug, but Exile had a suspicion that whatever had happened down there had tipped the odds considerably in his favor.
And thus we end another chapter. A lot of Blitz's fans weren't too crazy with the running gag of Colleen clobbering him and saddling him with annoying, belittling nicknames. Personally I thought he deserved it (at least most of the time), but for the purposes of this series I decided to give it a little more background. As I suspect was always meant to be the case, these little games were just Colleen trying to get him off her tail when he hit on her.
To the Guest reviewers on Chapter 2:
Guest: Well, I'm not sure where you see that. I'm open to the two of them getting along later on, but as seen here Blitz is going to have to learn some manners first.
KRUSA: Nope, haven't seen anything like that. Guess I'll have to take your word for it.