The Agents of M.E.O.W. moved their mobile command from Lille to Lyon
when Wales advanced from the Quarterfinals to the Semifinals. The
crowds got bigger and more exuberant. The cats were needed more than
ever as a rise in pickpockets came with the excited crowds. Drunk
excited fans were the perfect hunting grounds for the pickpockets and
others who would steal from the careless so the local law enforcement
needed all the help they could get. The few commanders who knew about
the cats were skeptical but willing to have the help. Rhys and Myfi
were excited both for their work and because their beloved Wales
Football Club had advanced further than ever before. They were proud
they could be there for the historic moment and help keep their
countrymen safe.
Angus walked down
the streets of Lyon, keeping his eye out for trouble, with Rhys at
his heels. The fans bedecked in Welsh red shirts and Daffodil hats
were everywhere singing, laughing and drinking. It was a party the
likes of which hadn't been seen before. The singing, which could be
heard coming out of every pub and bar, was a mixture of French and
Welsh bar songs with an occasional song having English lyrics.
The four days
between games became a party and the Agents of M.E.O.W. were the
private security. They arrested several thieves, a few drunken fans
who just needed to sleep it off, and a few who had let bar debates
become shoving matches but no threats to the game itself had
manifested. It was rapidly becoming one of the easiest test
assignments ever. Just enough real world experience to count but
nothing like what the class of August of 1996 had to deal with in
Atlanta. That had included crowd control of a panicked crowd after
explosives had gone off. That class was a M.E.O.W. legend.
At last Wednesday
dawned. The Agents of M.E.O.W. moved to the stadium to make sure no
one was bringing in contraband. The cats were doing the sniffing and
then coughing up hairballs on the suspect's feet routine, and it had
become routine. A few pickpockets, people trying to bring illicit
substances but no extremists doing dastardly things. The cat patrol
moved into the stadium.
The game started and
the excitement grew. Rhys and Myfi, as the only Welsh cats, kept one
eye on the game and one on their job. When the play drew to a close
and Wales was down two points to none, they joined their fellow
countrymen in signing their national anthem. Chatter on their ear
pieces told them that after the end of “Mae Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau”,
they needed to get back to keeping the peace.
The celebrations on
both sides continued the next day. The cats were assigned to keep the
Welsh players safe. The Portuguese security could take care of their
own players. Thus it was that the cats flew back to Cardiff in style,
on the Welsh team plane. The players, coaches and a few family
members, human M.E.O.W. agents, and the dozen cats made for an
interesting flight.
Rhys was walking
back from the cat carrier that held the litter box when little Alba
Bale, the three year old daughter of Gareth Bale, reached out and
picked him up. She settled into the seat and petted Rhys. Rhys had
lived on the street long enough to be pleased when someone petted
him. He settled down and purred.
“Here, Daddy,”
little Alba said as she dumped the cat on her father's lap. Her
mother escorted her to one of the lavatories.
Rhys looked up into
the startled eyes of the Welsh football star. The footballer shrugged
and petted the cat. Clearly being handed a security cat wasn't the
strangest thing his daughter had handed him. The cat settled in and
purred.
Ten minutes before
the plane landed, Angus and the other M.E.O.W. humans rounded up the
cats and placed them by twos into cat crates. Everyone on the plane
knew who they were but the people in the airport and at passport
control didn't. The cats only worked as spies if their existence
wasn't common knowledge.
Nala and Rhys were
placed in the same carrier. They talked all the way through the
airport and passport control and as they were loaded on to the bus
for the victory parade.
“You look dazed,”
Nala started as they were loaded onto the trolley to exit the plane.
“Gareth Bale
petted me,” Rhys said dreamily. “I'm never washing my fur again.”
“Really?” Nala
asked. “You'd be less stealthy if your targets could smell you
coming.”
“Spoil sport,”
Rhys said. “I'll wash before I get that bad, I promise.”
They were silent as
Angus handed over their paperwork. The passport agent was slightly
surprised when he scanned the papers and it gave him instructions to
let the cats through without being quarantined. The decision came
from high up. On their heads be it if these cats brought some weird
disease into the country.
“How would you
feel if that Sam fellow from that Outlander show petted you?” Rhys
asked once they were out in the airport concourses again.
“I only watch that
show because it is better than the horror movies or sportsball
options that are available in sick bay,” Nala said primly.
“Really?” Rhys
asked. “Then why do you and Liz have a date to watch the season
finale on Sunday?”
“How do you know
about that?” Nala asked surprised. Rhys gave her a look that said
'Spy cat, remember?' “Right. Liz likes watching the show because
that Sam guy reminds her of Angus.”
“Angus has blonder
hair but I can see it,” Rhys agreed.
They were loaded on
the bus to wait for everyone else and their luggage.
“So tell me why
this team gets a hero's welcome when they lost,” Nala said.
“Because no Welsh
team has ever made it past the quarter finals in a major
international competition. This team made it to the semi finals and
we're exceedingly proud,” Rhys answered. “To us they are heroes.”
“Oh,” Nala said.
The bus started up for the trip to Cardiff proper. Angus released
the cats from the carriers and the dozen felines took their stations
to exit the bus and walk beside it in the parade. The cats would look
like strays from the neighborhood and keep an eye on the crowd. Once
parade duty was done they'd return to headquarters and their next
adventure.
