The news of a dog in tactical gear, not to mention holding up Rocky, was met with great surprise from the team. While most carried looks of concern as Rocky was donated several pup treats, Chase's mind was turning. A dog in gear like that, the only thing that came to his head was a SWAT team. But what was a SWAT team doing in Adventure Bay? Nothing in the island's history has ever required such a military reaction. He figured as law enforcement he should know a thing or two about a military presence, or even be tied to it directly.
"I've never heard anything like that before," Chase inquired, eyes gazing to the floor.
"I'm not making it up," Rocky frowned, reaching down to munch on a treat.
"Didn't say you were,"
The two dogs were talking up in the Lookout, Rocky seated comfortably in a green dog bed, a pile of treats at his paws. Chase was sitting a few inches away lying on his stomach, trying to make sense of all this new information. The other pups including Ryder had already had their moment to talk to Rocky, but Chase anxiously sought out more to learn.
"Did he have a badge?"
"No," the mixed breed shook his head, "I think he said some things, but I don't remember. Sorry."
Chase waved off his apology, "It's fine, get well buddy."
The sound of a door opening made the two dogs turn their heads. Ryder had quickly entered the room and switched on the intercom.
"Paw Patrol to the Lookout!" he commanded into the mic, calling out his catchphrase,
Chase merely got up and walked over, looking up at Ryder, "is this about the dog?"
"No Chase, new issue," Ryder replied, "although we should get on that."
A few moments later, the elevator to the Lookout quickly opened, revealing the remaining six pups all overturned on the backs. Marshall was giggling nervously, and Zuma could be seen rolling his eyes.
Rocky gave a bored expression, "Did Marshall-"
"Yes, Marshall crashed into us," Zuma finished, "... again."
"Sorry," the Dalmation gave a shy smile,
"It's okay!" Rubble chirped,
Ryder quickly moved to the front of the room while the pups dressed in their uniforms and got into formation. Chase wasted no time slipping into his police gear and catching his hat on his head. It was a trick he taught himself and earned a killing in treats.
"Ready for action, Ryder sir!" the shepherd saluted.
"Thanks for hurrying, pups," Ryder smiled, "we have a situation down in Adventure Bay, a woman and her dog have gone missing."
"Oh no!" Rubble drew back, fear in his eyes,
Ryder quickly brought Chase's logo on the screen, ready to give the pup his directions. "Chase, I'll need you to direct traffic with your cones and investigate the scene, try and figure out what's happened."
"Chase is on the case!"
"Rocky," the boy continued, "you'll be helping Chase look for clues since you have a knack for finding little things of value."
"Green means go!" Rocky held his paw up in a salute,
"Great, paw patrol is on a - "
"Wait!" Skye jumped up, "what can I do?"
Everyone turned their heads, a mix of confusion and awe in their eyes. It was almost unheard of to interrupt a mission briefing.
"Skye?" Ryder raised an eyebrow at the Cockapoo.
"Well," she traced her paw along the ground, "usually I'm involved in these kinds of things. Can I have air support or-"
"Aren't you sick?"
"Just a little!" the pup insisted, "it hasn't really gotten worse,"
"Hasn't gotten worse, yet hasn't gotten better?" Chase tilted his head,
"Alright, fine," Ryder surrendered, "but you can only provide watch from the skies, no crazy exertion that could make you worse.."
The small dog nodded, satisfied with her role, "this pups gonna fly!" Her voice was noticeably weaker.
Chase, Rocky, and Skye all jumped to action, leaping onto the slide as their rigs below configured into their vehicle modes. Chase landed on his police cruiser and revved the engine, happy for some action to take his mind off of recent events. Rocky jumped into his garbage collector, smiling the whole way down. With a triumphant howl, the mixed breed took the controls and took to the street. Skye was last, jumping into her helicopter and lifting into the air in no time. With Ryder leading the way on his AV, they sped away from the tower into the action they were so well-accustomed to. As the wind blew through Rocky's fur and ears, he couldn't help but laugh a little. Chase wondered deep down if the mixed breed had a secret love for drag racing.
Skye quickly veered off, taking her helicopter to higher skies. As much as she wanted to join the team for real, she remained obedient to Ryder's orders and piloted to a position that would give her a great view of the bay. All she had to do was relay anything she saw, even if it was a little boring. The pups down below quickly sped through town, people and pups alike stopping to wave at them. Chase paid them no mind, as there was a job to do.
They eventually stopped in front of a mid-class house, coming to a stop. It was a nice and humble stead for someone with not too much money yet enough to live on. The yard was well kept, with a brown-picked fence bordering around it, not much leading up to the house other than a stone path. The house itself was average-sized, blue in color, with a black roof. The door was a lovely shade of red, looking rather inviting to someone bringing over a plate of cookies or pup treats. A lonely mailbox stood in front of the property.
Chase instantly jumped out and grabbed his traffic cones with his teeth, beginning to dot them out to direct incoming cars from the scene. Rocky hopped out of his own vehicle and walked out up the path, coming toward the door. There was a doggy door installed below, reminding Rocky that the owner had a dog. Leaning forward to sniff the door, he caught a whiff of vanilla. An odd smell, yet pleasing to the nose. The mixed-breed shrugged and pushed himself through the door.
"Hey guys?" Skye spoke from the radio, catching the attention of Ryder and Chase,
"Skye?" Ryder responded, "did you find the missing persons?"
"Well, no," she said apologetically, "but there's something else down there I can see,"
"Skye, don't report anything unless it's relevant to the mission," he replied in annoyance,
"No, Ryder, I can see like six pup vehicles all speeding down the streets,"
"Pup... vehicles?" Ryder blinked in confusion, "like our rigs?"
"Yeah, but a lot less colorful. They're coming your way,"
"I'll check it out," Ryder sprang up and jumped back on his AV.
Chase quickly turned and followed him, "but sir, the mission,"
"Take it from here, Chase, I know you can," the boy turned from his ride, "I don't know any other dogs that have rigs like ours, I'll be back soon."
With a final look at Chase, Ryder sped off back into the street, hunting for the mysterious rigs. Chase suddenly felt much smaller than usual, even though it was a feeling he should've been having often, being a puppy and all. With a deep breath, he turned back to the house and started sniffing up the path.
Meanwhile, Rocky was hard at work inside the house. With cheerful humming, he had summoned the metal claw from his pup-pack, expertly using it to clean up the rooms. A lot of trash was sprinkled around, a soda can here and there, some chip bags, and a whole pizza box. Cleaning was his specialty, and there was something almost therapeutic about turning a room from filthy to spotless. He let out a grunt of annoyance when he discovered a whole room with several spots of mud.
"Doesn't anyone wipe their feet anymore?" he inquired, but shrugged and went to get a sponge from his rig.
Chase was outside, slightly distracted as a beetle crossed his view. His eyes suddenly shot up as he heard the screeching sound of multiple cars. He picked up his head in alarm, eyes staring out into the street as a large number of pup vehicles all drove up at once, smothering his traffic cones.
"Hey, you can't-" he started to say,
"Get on the ground!" a voice barked out, as dogs flooded out of the rigs. Chase drew back in alarm when he realized all the dogs were wearing dark tactical gear, almost exactly like Rocky described. But this wasn't one dog, it was a dozen, and now they were all here. The Shepherd was at a loss for words when the armored animals strapped on pup-packs of their own, each one sporting a full metal, and incredibly real assault rifle.
"Wha-" Chase tried to say,
"I said on the ground, now!" the trooper shouted through its mask, jumping over the fence in front of him. A yellow taser quickly extended out of his pack. The inner puppy within Chase seemed to come out, as he quickly threw himself to the ground. His voice was gone, replaced with whimpers as his courage left him. Quivering, his ears went flat, and his mind swirled with fear as he lay staring ahead at the tufts of grass.
"Paws behind your head," came the new order, and he obeyed. He flinched as he felt his paws get zip-tied together. Around him, he could hear multiple troopers all streaming around the property. His pup-pack was quickly torn off and tossed aside, and he felt his collar get clipped off and thrown into the grass. The loss of his tag cut off all communication with Skye and Ryder.
"Quarantine the area, nothing gets out until cleared!" shouted someone.
"There are two vehicles out here," the trooper continued, noticing Rocky's garbage collector, "where is the other dog?"
"Inside!" Chase cried,
"Inside?!" the tactical dog recoiled, "he could be contaminating the whole site!"
"What's going on?" a new voice came, one sounding more authoritative,
"The second dog is inside, within the biozone, sir!"
"What?!" the dog also recoiled, then turned to the rest of the dogs, "break down the door and get him out!"
Rocky could hear the commotion from the inside. He was just about to hit the front door to walk outside, needing his sponge to banish the muddy mess that plagued the room. When the sound of cars screeching in, complete with shouting, Rocky stopped and peeked out the window. The sight of the exact dogs who scared him yesterday filled him with more fear than water ever could. Seeing Chase not only arrested but being painfully driven to the ground as a trooper was standing on his head, filled him with confusion and panic. He turned and ran, turning into the room and frantically searching with quickened breath for a place to hide. His heart skipped when the sound of shattering wood and glass rang out through the house.
"Hallway clear!" came a voice,
Rocky felt frozen to the floor, his mind spinning as it tried to think of any possible way out. Could he run from them? Could he hide from them? Should he give himself up? What were they going to do to him? What would they do to him if he ran?
The trooper instantly rounded the corner, catching sight of the mixed breed, and instantly drew back aiming down the rifle, "on the ground, paws above your head!"
"What- did I do?" Rocky quivered, voice nearly breaking with fear,
"Pup, you better get on the fucking ground right now," the trooper's gun made a clicking noise, meaning it had just been cocked and ready to fire.
Life flashed before his eyes, Rocky through himself to the ground as tears fell from his eyes. He felt his pup-pack get torn off his body, and his paws were zip-tied.
Chase cried in protest as the dogs grabbed his tied paws, catching them with a small hook from their packs. He was dragged out of the yard and into a large van-like vehicle, dark green in color. As he looked back, Chase could see another dog watching him, a dog different from the troopers. It was a Belgian Malinois, brown and black in color, dressed in darker gear. The hardy dog narrowed his amber eyes at Chase, holding the gaze until the doors were shut.