And so it came to pass that our extraordinary group of adventurers landed ashore on the unnatural perfect beach of the strange land where they had an appointment with destiny. Okay, they were in pursuit of the disruptive element causing havoc with the universe and its laws, that better? Once ashore they decided to head West inland on the premise that everything had threatened them from the East up to now and things are rarely where you expect them, Sod’s Law IX, Dog came up to George, who was standing beside Mo and turned to Mo and uttered not his usual guttural doggy noise but in perfect English,

‘I think this one is sound, G, and so can be trusted completely, you agree?’

‘Agreed, Dog, you’re usually right about these things, But what about Elvis, he is on our side you know and true, he may appear a little unorthodox at times but -  - - ’

‘Not only orthodox, which is fine but a wee bit too erratic for me, Maybe see how he gets on.’

‘Fine by me,’

Mo had said nothing while this conversation took place though II little taken aback by this most unexpected turn of events. He turned to Dog and looked at him closely, into his eyes, where he saw something he had not expected but neither had he expected the talking bit.

‘You talk?’ Was all he could muster at that time.

‘He’s quick to catch on too, G.’ Commented Dog with just the hint of humour in his voice. Not sarcasm but humour, noted Mo. Truly this was a most remarkable hound.

‘Right then, are we ready to sort this mess out?’ Elvis had just walked up having taken a quick forty winks. 

Dog was already standing in his classic pose at the front of DUKW, nose pointing dead ahead, indicating the direction they should take. sure enough, West. Once onboard DUKW, with engines roaring into life the great metal beast of WW11 set off into the forest, heading west. The greenery didn’t hinder DUKW as the vehicle ploughed its way through the thickest undergrowth. They hadn’t gone more than an hour when Dog suddenly stiffened, then  leapt from the vehicle and bounded off into the thick forest. 

‘He’s onto something, me thinks’ remarked Mo.

‘Certainly looks that way’ agreed George.

Elvis was sitting at the back of DUKW deep in thought. This business was turning out to be a real queer sort of afair. Nothing was making much sense but then whenever did that stop him? Good point, he thought. Nevertheless, here he was, teamed up with individuals as different as chalk and cheese in character and a dog. Hmm, he thought, that dog, now there’s an oddity if there ever was. There was something deeply disturbing about that dog, he couldn’t put his finger on it but there was definitely something about it, him. He wasn’t like any dog he’d ever come across before. He could swear the dog knew exactly what he was saying, furthermore, he had a nasty feeling that the dog could also read his mind, now that was disturbing and he decided that he'd better be a bit more careful in his company. There was another thing, the way he seemed to communicate with George and vice versa, now that was really spooky. His reverie was broken into upon the arrival back of the very subject of his thoughts, Dog.

Upon arrival, Dog went straight to George and after a moment or two George announced that there was a good spot just ahead where they could camp for the night and, as there was a fair distance to cover before any progress could be made, it’d be better they camp as nightfall was beginning to drop. This was agreed and so it was that the party came to the spot where they would make camp for the night, before making their main push through the deep forest. Elvis was left to ponder a few things through the night, like, how quickly they all agreed to camp on the say-so of a dog, a dog that hadn’t indicated anything but to George and that silently, it seemed. He wasn’t sure how long he was prepared to let this go but for the time being he’d keep his thoughts to himself and as far away from Dog as he could. He realised how much he was missing Rosie and her counsel. Wait a minute, he thought, counsel from a machine? A car?! He fell into a troubled sleep which involved much tossing and turning and an inability to switch his mind off. He was beginning to drift off into a deep sleep when he heard it, rustling from the edge of camp. He lay with his eyes wide open, straining his ears to identify the sound and from where it was coming. 

‘Crack!’ There it was, the give-away sound of trouble, someone or something was entering their space and that could not be good when all were supposed to be asleep. In a bound he was up, Webley Service Revolver in hand and out of his tent. Once in the open he found himself surrounded by a wall of Green Asparagus, standing all of ten feet tall and menacingly waving long, nasty looking Asagai spears. This didn’t bode well, he thought, and where was everybody else? 

Quietly, stealthily Dog left camp while everyone was beginning to settle down for the night, Elvis having agreed to take first watch, Dog didn’t want to disturb him so he passed by completely unseen and unheard. He made his way through the forest retracing his route of earlier and in a matter of minutes he was standing on a small knoll overlooking the clearing he’d noticed the first time he'd been here, on his initial scouting mission. They were still there, a pack of very unsavoury characters, wolves ugly with cruelty writ large along  their entire bodies, head to toe.  He needed to see beyond this encampment but earlier didn’t want to risk pushing his luck so soon into the enterprise he was engaged upon. He needed to be at his very best this night for he must  circumvent this camp in order to confirm his suspicions about what lay ahead. Slowly, silently, he began making his way inch by inch around the group of wolves, a dozen he counted but there may be others he couldn't see so absolute caution was essential. After only four nerve wrenching minutes he found himself on the other side and a clear way ahead. Off he went but keeping at high alert the whole way. Eventually he came to a clearing in the middle of which he could see obvious signs of human occupation, three small sheds in a triangle at the centre of which stood one very unimaginative square building, plain in every sense with white washed walls and a flat black roof. For a canine, Dog possessed an interesting eye for detail in a way that perhaps others of his ilk wouldn't quite share. He made his way all the way around this small group of buildings, taking in every detail, one in particular that stood out due mainly to the smell that was emanating from it. This was a kitchen, a very large kitchen for it encompassed the entire structure. Dog being Dog pondered upon why such a large kitchen for such a small compound? This had to be part of something else,  something much bigger. Then he caught the niff of a familiar aroma, that of sprouts and baked beans. It couldn’t be, he thought, could it? Better get back and report. With this he turned around and as quietly as he came he went and was doing alright until level with the wolves camp whereupon the inevitable spoilsport twig found its way under Dog’s left hind paw. ‘Shit!’ he uttered under his breath, ‘That’s torn it.’ 

In seconds they were upon him, biting, snarling, scratching, tearing with razor sharp claws, all trying to reach Dog’s throat but he wasn’t having any of that and fought with equal ferocity sending grey bundles of scraggly fur, skin and teeth, flying this way and that.   The battle raged for just half an hour, though in Dog’s terms, battling for his very life  it seemed an eternity. He found himself restricted to this barbaric physical stuff because these bad boys weren’t having any of the mind bending stuff or his ability to become invisible, because the latter wouldn’t work while being held and his adversaries were not letting go if they could help it. In fact they made it pretty clear they wanted him dead. He didn't like that idea much so tore into his foe like it meant life or death, because basically it did. They were not going to forget this little fracas in a hurry, he made sure of that. Finally, with a twist of his strong neck and a quick flip he sent the lead wolf sailing through the air clearing the rest whilst at the same time sending two others sprawling with a deft back kick. With this he managed to break free of their grip and immediately disappeared before their disbelieving bloodied eyes. He was off, heading back but not as quickly as he was used to for he  realised he was injured and just hoped he'd make it in time to get some much needed attention from George. 

Dawn was beginning to show signs of materialising and Dog was not where he’d hoped to be at this time, he was still not safely back in camp and he was feeling weaker with every painful step he took, his paws red with the blood of his enemies as well as his own, he was beginning to doubt for the first time in his life that he’d make it, his vision becoming obscured by a combination of his own blood and blurring which he knew signalled the oncoming of a state he didn’t want, unconsciousness. What he’d give at this moment for the comfort of his favourite ball, even though he was aware of an aching from his jaw. Then, his worst fears were realised. His legs crumpled under him and he finished up in an undignified heap of blooded fur skin and, damn, broken nails. Bugger! He thought as his eyes closed and the lights went out.

‘Ello, boy, what yuh doing out here? My, yuh’re in a mesh, mushed have been shum party, hic!. Beshed get yuh back tuh camp, hic!’ With that Eric gently lifted Dog up from the ground and draped him over his shoulder like a feather boa and staggered back into camp, his early morning crawl done with for today. Once back to the confines of the camp compound the gradually sobering Eric gently lay his battered charge down on his cot. As he began to turn away to fetch help, Dog stretched out a blooded left paw and caught Eric's sleeve.

‘G-go-f-etch G-George, q-quickly. It’s vital, g-go!’

Eric was still in a state of confusion as he shook George’s shoulder in an attempt to rouse her from sleep.

‘Eric, you will leave my shoulder attached to my body, won’t you, now, what’s the matter? Eric, where the hell have you been.  You disappeared with Rosie? George was coming around fast now.

Ignoring George's apparent confusion Eric continued. ‘It’s Dog, h-he’s back and h-he’s all messed up, like he’s been in a f-fight.’ stammered Eric.

‘Okay, okay, let’s have a look’ assured George, trying to calm an obviously very agitated Eric. 

‘Th-that’s not all. H-he, h-he told m-me to f-fetch you.’

‘Well then, that you have done, so, let’s go see him.’

‘N-no, he t-told m-me to fetch y-you, He, he told me, in words. H-he spoke t-to me. He spoke!’

Just then Mo and Elvis arrived to see what the commotion was.

‘What’s going on?’ demanded Elvis. ‘Eric! Where’s Rosie?’

‘It’s okay, it’s only Eric. He’s had a bit of a shock, he’ll be okay in a minute, and I suggest you leave any questions till later’

‘It’s d-dog, he spoke to me, in English’ Blurted out Eric.

‘I’m not surprised after the amount of my best Johnnie Walker Black Label you’ve thrown down your neck since this business began,’ was Elvis’s somewhat impatient response. ‘I always thought you were a tad young to be on the real stuff,’ he finished.

George had left this minor domestic spat and hurried off to Eric’s tent where Dog had been gingerly placed by Eric.

In a matter of minutes the others joined George who was tending to Dog’s many wounds. He truly was in a bad way, thought George, she’s never seen any animal claw its way back after sustaining such damage. Dog was, however, a most remarkable animal, one of a kind and nothing he did would surprise George. When the others arrived Dog was asleep, expertly bandaged by George, who shushed them and ushered them from the tent saying that Dog needed rest and quiet. His appearance made this perfectly obvious to them and so they retired to Mo’s tent where they could try to make some sense from this episode. Dog had clearly been in a fight and a fight for his life by the look of it but why, by whom and where and when. And, Eric. He was in the camp all the time but then, quite plainly he hadn’t been had he? So what was he doing out of camp when it was clear there was danger out there? So many questions but who could answer them?

‘Gentlemen, it would appear that we are walking into a trap, one that had been in operation from the time we arrived through the cloud. Everything has been carefully co-ordinated by a clever, devious and vicious opponent, bent on one thing, our destruction and in the nastiest way possible’

‘And you know this because?’ queried a somewhat sceptical Elvis who was now well and truly out of his comfort zone with too many questions and no answers and more importantly, no Rosie. He was without his right hand. He couldn't help it, his mind would wander off wondering what had happened to her and where she was? His lack of confidence was worrying him, it had never been a problem before so why now?

It was Capt. Mo who broke into his thoughts. ‘We need to proceed with great caution, my friends, our opponent has shown him or herself to be most devious and fiendish and clearly cannot be entrusted to act in the usual recognisable manner, employing the dirtiest, nastiest means he/she can devise. If what George says is true and I see no reason to question it, we are precisely where this malevolent entity wants us to be and we need to wrest back the initiative while we can.’ He sat back in his seat and splayed out his hands at waist level inviting comment.

‘It appears that this whole thing is more complicated than we first imagined, we are not dealing with one antagonist but two, one our friend Eric has some knowledge of. I think we need to have a bit of a chat with him.’ 

‘Agreed’ said George and Mo in unison. ‘Where is he?’ she said,  looking around, realising that Eric wasn’t present.

‘Probably sleeping off the effects of Black Label.’ Was the response from a moody Elvis, he was in a little cloud of distraction all his own by this time. 

After a thorough search of the camp they had to acknowledge that their little chef friend was nowhere to be seen, vanished, again. He’d been with them right from retrieving Dog, or had he? No, he'd sloped off supposedly to get his head down. They were one down again, what’s more, they were missing the one who could possibly throw some light on who they were up against, one half of an evil partnership at least.