Those Meddling Kids

Chapter Two

by Technomad

The day wore on, the southern Colorado sun beating down outside. In the abandoned gas station, the Wolverines and the recon team took turns sleeping and staying on watch, always alert for any sign that the enemy was aware of their presence. They saw a few Red aircraft…airplanes and one bulky, menacing-looking helicopter…but none of them showed any sign of interest in a deserted gas station. Since the snow was off the ground, there weren't trails of footprints to betray them to watchful eyes.

At one point, Jed and Fred were up at the same time. They sat at opposite sides of a rickety table, tucking into some of the food that Fred and his group had brought along. After a few minutes of silent eating, Jed finally broke the silence. "Hey, Fred…what's up with the dog?"

Fred looked up from his ration can. "Oh, you mean Scooby?"

"Yeah." Jed looked at Fred curiously. "I mean…no offense meant, I'm sure…but why bring a dog along on this kind of thing?"

Fred finished the last of his canned ration and leaned back in his chair. "Well…before we all met back up, Shaggy, over there, was in the Army. This was some years before the war. We'd gone off to college, and he'd joined the Army. He trained as a dog handler, and was apparently in on some fairly hairy ops up against our Red friends, south of the border. A lot of it's stuff he still can't talk about."

"Oh-kay…" Jed put down his spoon, the ration can having been very thoroughly and efficiently emptied. "But in that case, why are you the guy in charge here? He's a veteran, isn't he? Why isn't he in charge?" He pointed to the sergeant's stripes on Fred's shoulder. "Why isn't he wearing those, if he had previous experience?"

"Shaggy? He wouldn't take the job. You remember, he was on some hairy ops?" Fred leaned forward, his gaze intense. "Something bad happened to him down there. Something really bad."

Jed's parents had not raised foolish sons. His eyes widened, and he shut his mouth with a snap. Fred nodded grimly. "If he wants to talk about it, you listen, but until he decides he wants to talk, you don't bother him, understand?" Jed nodded, and made a mental note to pass the word along to the other Wolverines. Daryl and Danny, in particular, were a bit impulsive and prone to act before they thought things through. He knew that he could warn them off that subject, though.

"But, to get this back on track, why have the dog along? What does he do?" Jed was honestly curious. He had had pets before the invasion, and missed them fiercely. If he could have been sure that a dog or cat would be able to adapt to the rugged life that he and his friends lived, he'd have had one. He envied the recon team the Great Dane's companionship, but wasn't sure about the wisdom of bringing the dog along.

"For starters, Jed, that isn't just a dog, not by any means. Remember, how Shaggy was a dog handler? Well, when Shag was in, the military was experimenting with specially-created animals…they called it 'Project Uplift.' Dolphins, for example. The Navy was working with them, trying to make them able to communicate clearly with humans. The Army was more interested in dogs, although I believe they did do some experiments on some of the smaller, more common breeds of bears." Fred pointed toward Scooby, who was sleeping curled up with Shaggy. "Scooby there was one of the Army's near-misses."

"Scooby?"

"Shag was one of the people working on that project. Scooby was originally 'Special Canine Unit Bravo Yankee Two.' He was one of their last prototypes before the project got shut down. They were very close to success, but some Congressman got a lot of flak from animal-rights types and raised such a stink that they had to close the whole thing down. We're not sure what happened to the others, but Shaggy was able to keep Scooby somehow. He had his discharge about that time, and maybe some of the paperwork got lost or fudged somehow." Fred looked very, very pious for a second. "I am shocked…shocked! that such a thing could ever happen in our beloved U.S. Army!" Jed and Fred shared a low laugh.

"So how is Scooby different?"

"For starters, he's nearly as smart as a human, and he can kinda-sorta talk. If he'd been through all the surgery on his vocal cords and mouth that the Army had planned, he'd be able to talk almost as well as a human. Shaggy said he saw a couple of dogs who'd had that done, and it was eerie to hear them talking. As things stand, he talks well enough that we understand him…most of the time. Shaggy does the best of us at that. He's got a real gift." Fred shook his head ruefully. "He and Scoob have a bond that's as tight as anything I've ever seen."

"I see. What else about him did they change, and what's the same, still?"

"He's a Great Dane, as you can see, but he's got a sense of smell that's as good as any bloodhound. More than once, he's saved all our asses by smelling bad guys before we even knew they were there. He can also hear them, and will warn us if he hears anything out of the ordinary."

Jed's eyes went very wide. "How about fighting? Has he ever had to get into a real fight?"

"Not often. We try to avoid fighting. Our job is mainly reconnaissance." Fred replied, opening a bottle of mineral water and taking a swig before passing it to Jed, who took it gratefully, happy for the chance to wash the taste of the canned rations out of his mouth. "But when he does, watch out! He's got extra-hardened teeth and enhanced jaw muscles…the genes for them came from a pit bull…and he can literally bite a man's arm off!"

"That's the truth," said the redheaded girl, Daphne, who had awakened and come into the room. "I remember when some ALA caught us off-guard, and thought they had us dead-to-rights. They had me and Velma on the ground, getting ready for a bit of the old Soviet-style romance, when Scooby came roaring to the rescue. He clamped down on one guy's arm and bit through the forearm! Then he jumped on top of another guy who was on top of Velma and tearing her shirt off, opened his jaws REAL wide, and chomped down on the guy's head!" Daphne closed her eyes for a minute as the memories washed over her. "I'll never forget how that raping piece of shit screamed when Scooby literally crushed his head in his jaws!" She smiled a grim smile. "By the time the boys got there, Scooby had the situation well in hand, and all we needed was some TLC."

"I'll bet you did," Jed agreed. He remembered what had apparently happened to Toni and Erica. He couldn't understand why the Red commanders allowed their men to behave that way. Didn't they realize that that sort of thing bred resistance faster than almost anything else they did? A lot of people in the US might have been willing to submit quietly, if the invaders had behaved decently toward them. Allowing their soldiers to mistreat the local population, on the other hand, ensured that almost nobody was willing to work with or for the Reds. Then, something that Daphne had said registered in his mind. "What do you mean, 'ALA?'"

Fred and Daphne's eyes went wide. "You have been isolated, haven't you?" Jed nodded. "The ALA… 'American Liberation Army'…is a corps of turncoats that the Reds have been recruiting since about the New Year, to fill out their ranks. Kind of like the 'Hiwis' the Germans recruited in the Soviet Union." Daphne's smile was bitter. "Not that reminding them of that comparison goes over well, at all!"

Jed chuckled. What enemy propaganda he had seen harped endlessly on how the Americans were "Fascists," and how the benevolent Reds had come as liberators, not conquerors or occupiers. Hearing themselves compared with the "Fascists" they excoriated had to drive them wild with rage. "What sort of recruits can they get?"

Fred and Daphne both looked grim. "Some of them are forced into the ranks, usually by threats to their families. They're pretty reluctant, and desert or go over to our side at the first chance, so they're generally kept in support roles well behind the lines. They take over a lot of the scut-work for the Reds, and free up more of their men to fight against us." Fred grinned humorlessly. "And, of course, they're often quite willing to pass information along to any town-based resistance they can contact!"

Jed nodded. Then a thought struck him. "You said 'some of them.' What about the others?"

Fred and Daphne both scowled reminiscently. "In any country you find scum. Believe it or not, there were some people before the war that really thought that the Reds were in the right. Others are just psychopaths who love a chance to hurt people, break things and live out their fantasies. In some places, where the Reds took prisons before the prisoners could be evacced, the prisoners were given the choice of joining the ALA or being shot as 'counter-revolutionary elements.' Quite a few of them jumped at the chance." Daphne's voice was bitter. "They're often turned loose on 'disloyal' areas, to teach the people there a lesson on why not to resist the occupation."

Jed's expression could have been called a smile, but not by anybody sane. "I hope we meet some of those people. I really hope that we meet them one day," he purred. "I think we'd all like to have a deep, meaningful discussion with them."

"Or play a game with them," said Robert, who'd come in in time to hear the last part of the conversation. His eyes gleamed with anticipation. "The game would be 'How Loud Can You Scream And How Long Can We Make You Last?'" Taking a can of rations from the pile, he sat down to eat it.

Fred and Daphne exchanged glances. Fred leaned close to Jed, pitching his voice low. "Is he all right?" asked Fred, nodding toward Robert.

Jed nodded. "Robert's all right. He lost some people he really cared about early on in the war, and since then, he's kept himself going by pure hate." Jed grimaced. "I just hope he can settle down if we last through into peacetime. I've heard that some like him…can't." Fred and Daphne nodded, understanding what Jed was saying. "At least we've more-or-less broken him of scalping the enemy. He did that for a while." At that, Fred and Daphne's eyes went very wide.

"How'd you get him to stop?" asked Daphne.

Jed grinned. "Every time we caught him with scalps, we made him throw them away, then kicked his ass good. After about the tenth time, he got the message." He shrugged eloquently. "To be honest, he sometimes gives me cold chills, but I'm really glad we've got him on our side."

After the sun went down, the Wolverines and the recon team left, heading for a nearby ranch. "We know the Schmidts…they're the people who live there," Jed explained. "They can help us get into Pueblo." Fred quietly hoped that the Wolverine leader knew what the hell he was talking about. Ever since the invasion, life had been one nasty surprise after another. In single file, not speaking or showing lights, they walked along a little-used deer trail, keeping out of sight of the roads.

At one point, Jed signaled for everybody to take cover. They hunkered down behind bushes or trees as a convoy of trucks went by below. The trucks were running under blackout rules, with only the lead truck showing headlights, and the others following in its wake by the light of lights under their undercarriages, but to the night-adapted eyes of the Wolverines and Fred's friends, they were quite well visible.

Robert made as if to raise his rifle to his shoulder, until Jed put his hand on Robert's shoulder and pulled him back. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jed snarled, very softly. He knew that a whisper's hiss would carry farther, and he wanted to take no chances on the Reds overhearing them, even by a millions-to-one chance.

"Jed! Don't you see? This is a perfect opportunity to ambush them!" Jed squeezed Robert's shoulder harder and pulled him farther back, until they were sitting together.

"Look, Robert. I know how you feel. I don't blame you a damn bit. But This. Is. Not. The. Time!" Robert slowly lowered his rifle, looking at Jed. Jed hoped he was getting through to his old friend. When the battle-hunger was on him, Robert did not always strike him as quite sane. "Right now, we've got a job to do. Roaring rampages of random revenge are fun, but they get in the way. Don't worry. From what I can tell about our new friends, they'll see to it that you get plenty of Reds to kill." Robert relaxed slightly and lowered his rifle, and Jed silently breathed a sigh of relief. There were times that dealing with the other Wolverines was more stressful than fighting the Reds.

Once the convoy was past, they continued on their way. As dawn was breaking in the East, they came up on a lonely ranch house. Jed narrowed his eyes and gave the signal whistle to tell the ranchers that the Wolverines were there. Sure enough, the signal that "all is well" was showing, so he signaled the others forward. A side door in the ranch house opened, and they were beckoned inside.

It was strange, for Jed, being in a real house after so long. Almost continuously since the invasion, he and his friends had slept outdoors, or in barns, abandoned buildings, or other such places. The house at the ranch where the Wolverines had holed up had been stripped, and wasn't in good shape, save for the cellar, which had been overlooked and was where the food supplies mandated by the LDS church's teachings were. He thought that he and the others looked incongrous, bristling with weapons and wearing their rough, dirty uniforms, standing in a neatly-kept living room.

However, Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt took the whole thing in stride. Mrs. Schmidt bustled around, insisting that everybody sit down and make themselves comfortable. "Oh, I wish I could offer you some refreshments, but ever since this awful invasion, food's been short!" Jed and the others hastened to assure their hostess that it was no problem, and introduced the recon team. "We're fairly well-found for food, ma'am, and we don't want to be a burden to you. We've got work to do down in Pueblo, and we were hoping you could get us in there without the bad guys figuring out what's going on."

Mr. Schmidt thought about it, his chin in his hand. "Shouldn't be difficult. We've been notified that the 'liberators'"…he loaded the word with bitter scorn… "are requesitioning livestock from local ranchers here. The way they phrased it, if we don't give them livestock voluntarily, they'll send their 'Liberation Forces' to take what they want."

"That would be the 'American Liberation Army,' I take it?" asked Jed. "We only just learned about them from the recon team here."

"Yeah, them," Mr. Schmidt scowled. "They're mostly the scum of the earth. There are a few who joined because they really believe all the…crap…the Reds preach, but most of them were taken straight out of prisons. They're out for revenge on the rest of us."

"We've had some run-ins with them," spoke up Daphne. She and Velma both looked very grim. "Scooby-Doo, here, taught them better than to meddle with us." Both young women smiled grimly. Scooby himself looked up from where he had buried his muzzle in a dog dish full of food to nod smugly.

"How well are they trained?" asked Jed. The rest of the Wolverines all leaned forward attentively, and the recon team also perked up and listened.

"Not really well, for the most part. There are those with pre-war, pre-prison military experience, and those are usually the sergeants and corporals. The rank-and-file are sloppy, and do as little as they can get away with."

Jed thought for a second. "You know, I may just have a way for us to get into town. How many of the ranchers around here are being forced to contribute to the enemy?"

Both Schmidts scowled. "Everybody around here's being levied for livestock. The Red scum hate the fact that they haven't been able to collectivize us. Until they 'consolidate' things, they have to be content with taking as much as they can while leaving us just enough to live on."

"Then maybe we can all infiltrate. We can pose as ranch hands, and help out when the ranchers bring in their assigned quotas of livestock."

Mr. Schmidt nodded. "That would work. Most of the ranchers here are desperately short of hands. Many of them slipped off to try to get through the lines and join the Army. Others ran into trouble with the Reds and were either shot or sent to camps. You see old codgers and ten-year-old boys around here trying to do a man's work, because their older brothers who should be doing it aren't around."

"Talk to your neighbors, and we can set this thing up. Hopefully, we can get this in motion in a couple of days. In the meantime, can we bunk in one of your outbuildings?" Jed held up his hand to forestall the Schmidts' offers of bedrooms, which he knew was coming. "We're used to sleeping rough, and we don't mind it any more. We also don't want to get you into trouble if we can help it. If we're out in one of the remoter outbuildings, you could plausibly say that you had no idea we were even there."

As they were bunking down, Fred asked Jed: "How do you know for sure you can trust these people so completely?"

Jed grinned. "In the first place, Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt are my, and my brother's, godparents. We've known them literally all our lives. They're loyal. In the second place…" Jed looked very grim for a second… "their son and daughter were both shot by the Reds when their paratroopers hit Calumet, the day of the invasion."

Fred nodded, accepting that explanation. Ever since the Reds had come, they had worked overtime at making new enemies for themselves.

Author's note: Some of this is taken from what I can find out about the "Red Dawn Plus Twenty" wiki; I've never been able to find the original material it was based on. Other things, like Robert taking scalps, is from the original script that became Red Dawn, Ten Soldiers (pre-Milius). I've read the original script, and in some ways, it holds together better than the movie did.

I also wanted to have Scooby be a lot like he is in the original cartoon, but with a real-world-plausible reason for why he's so much smarter than the average dog, and can kinda-sorta talk. I don't know that the military is working on "uplifting" animals to make them more useful, but it wouldn't surprise me one bit.