“Sir, we just got word from the field… we believe operation BACKYARD may be a success,” the junior officer could barely believe the words he had just uttered and hoped his voice sounded more stable than he felt.
“You mean we got him? It’s over?” the Kernel said, the hesitation in his voice betraying his own disbelief that the mission they had all spent countless hours and five years of their lives devoted to could now be over. Just like that. “What have we heard, is our man online? Well, I want him patched through to my office just as soon as he makes contact,” the Kernel barked as he rushed out of the dark ‘communications’ room and stomped off to his office. If it really was over, he had a lot of paperwork to do, not to mention an operative who would need to be debriefed.
Ten minutes later, a knock on the Kernel’s door snapped him to attention.
“Come!” he hollered, anxious to send whoever it was on their way, he was in no mood for interruptions today. The door opened to reveal the last person the Kernel expected to see, at least so soon. “Blue! Holy Hell, how did you get here so fast? I was expecting to be talking to you over the monitor, how in blazes did you get to D.C. this quickly?” the Kernel said with choppy excitement as he shook the operative’s hand. Showing him to one of the chairs facing his desk, the Kernel did a quick visual inventory of the man (a boy, really) who had become his most valuable asset to date.
“I know your head must still be in a bit of a fog, so I’ll keep this brief. Our official debriefing with the joint chiefs will be scheduled for tomorrow at 0800, then there is the pile of paperwork will need your review, all very procedural and dull, you know the drill,” the Kernel sat back in his chair and couldn’t help but let a smile escape. “So tell me, without all the bull we’ll have to wade through tomorrow, how’d you do it? How did you find the mole?”
Blue arched his back in his seat and with the cocky smile that had become a bit of a trademark for the man, leaned forward and rested his elbows on his superior’s desk. “If I wasn’t such a cocky S.O.B. I might chalk it up to luck. I had been tracking him through parts of the swamp, down in the everglades for months. I was closing in on him, or at least I believe I was when I contracted some sort of infection. They sent me back to D.C. to recover and who do I see waltzing down the hospital corridor, him.” Blue spat out the last word like he had tasted something offensive. “Then it was only a matter of calling the proper people, luring him into a corner and BAM! just like that, it was over. We had him. Kind of ironic you know, when you think about it,” Blue said leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers together on his chest.
“What? What’s ironic?” the Kernel asked, feeling like he was on the outside of an inside joke.
“Well, the operation, for five years we’ve been working like dogs to bring in this mole, we tracked him all over the world and I followed every one of his footsteps, always just ½ a step too late to bring him down. The operation name Backyard was auto-generated and after all this time we finally bring him down, in our own backyard,” Blue smirked and rose from his seat and with a salute left the Kernel’s office, he was desperate for a shower and a Coke.
The Not So Fantastic Reality:
The above story was inspired by the following tidbits I encountered today:
ONE: Well, my fierce killing machine of a dog, that would be the mini-dachshund, has done it again. While wandering around my backyard as I caught up with an old friend over the phone I watch my little wiener dog run past me. Not thinking much of it (he’s apt to do a lot of strange things) I continued my conversation and eventually wound up where he was investigating something. Upon closer inspection, I saw he had dung up… a mole. With the lifeless thing clasped tightly in his mouth he gave me one look (like woman, this is my mole) and ran away. So for anyone who’s interested, that’s two rats and one mole my 11 pound dog has killed in the last six months or so… awesome.
TWO: The code name for the operative in today’s story, Blue, is an ode to my own mole catcher, Joey the dachshund, whose middle name is Blue. Joey’s coloring is officially known as blue, in the breeder world I guess, and so I thought it fitting when naming him to include Blue in there somewhere. Plus, now I can say, “You’re my boy, Blue!” whenever I want and it actually means something. I know, I’m a nerd.
THREE: Andy somehow convinced me to follow him into the swamp today in order to repair one of his Geocaches (if you have no idea what that is, check out this site: www.geochacing.com). I didn’t get too mucked up, but I’ll be cleaning my Converse for the better part of tomorrow, I suspect.
Love & Squirrels.