Land of My Fathers

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.

C'mon Cymru

Rhys Llewelyn sat in the barracks of the training facilities at M.E.O.W. with the other dozen cats (kittens really but Rhys was a full grown cat), waiting to hear what their final test would be. Graduation was a month away and the cats of the class needed a real world practical test. It was the last thing as a part of training before becoming full Agents. Right now they were provisional agents but if they passed the practical field exam they'd graduate and have a badge and everything (not that the cats carried their badges with them but they had them all the same).

The two kittens Rhys had had the most dealings with were running around the room and jumping from carpeted shelf to carpeted shelf in a sort of feline steeple chase. Myfi, the cute little marmalade kitten, was in the lead but the tuxedo Manx named Finn was not far behind. Finn leaped from the shelf on the right side of the door towards the one on the left when the door opened and caught him mid-flight. The kitten fell right on to the head of Angus MacDougal, chief human at M.E.O.W. The kitten was startled and reacted with claws out.

“Ouch,” Angus said as he pried the kitten from his head. “Watch your claws, ye wee beastie.”

“Reoww,” answered Finn as Angus set him down on the floor. Finn didn't much like Angus, particularly ever since the human had paid more attention to Rhys. Finn thought Rhys too old to train with the kittens and let it be known.

Rhys, ignoring his nemesis, switched his speech translator on. “Do have our mission for us?”

“I do indeed,” Angus said with a smile as he walked to the center of the room and turned on the flat screen monitor.

The other cats came and arranged themselves on the couch and floor in front of the monitor. Angus used the computer tablet in his hand to flip through the power point presentation.

“First off, the clouder who will be monitoring your mission and assisting you, if you need it will be Clouder Number Nine,” Angus said. Rhys perked up at that. “Yes, Rhys, the whole Clouder. It will be Captain Nala's first mission back after her illness.”

Finn turned on his speech translator. “I'm sure we're all glad that Captain Nala is feeling better, but what about our mission?”

“I was getting to that,” Angus said. The screen changed to the Euro216 logo and bracket graphic. “Wales has made the quarter finals against Belgium and they play on Friday.” Myfi and Rhys looked excited. They were the only cats from the principality itself and were very patriotic.

“What does footie have to do with us?” asked a gray British short hair kitten named Reginald.

“The French police and particularly those in Lille, have asked for extra help and the Minister has agreed to loan this class, Clouder Number Nine, myself, and four other human support staff for the rest of the week.”

“Why?” asked Myfi. “Not that I'm complaining being near the game but why us?”

“Besides the huge influx of footie fans, this is the 100 anniversary of the Battle of the Somme and ceremonies are planned on Friday as well,” Angus explained as he then outlined the plan and what part each cat would play in the plan.

The cats found themselves patrolling the streets of Lille that night. The atmosphere was strange. One half of the town was celebrating the footie games to be played. The other half was remembering the Great War and those that had died in it. Three days of patrolling the crowds and it was game day.

The cats were doing their job winding between the fans waiting to get into the stadium. They were sniffing for contraband and weapons (explosives and gunpowder).

Rhys found a person dressed to support Belgium and the person smelled funny. He was exactly the kind of human Rhys had been sent to find so he did what he had been told to do. He started heaving from his tail. The yorking sound came from deep with in him and seconds later a mass of partially digested fur and fluids landed on the suspicious human's foot.

“Ah man,” said the human as he noticed the hairball on his foot. He started hopping around trying to figure out how to clean it off.

“Sir, I can help you with that,” Angus said as he came over to the man. Angus was dressed as a stadium event worker. “If you just come with me, we'll get you cleaned up in no time.” The man complied and Angus lead him to a side room.

“I'm Commander MacDougal,” Angus said as he flashed his Interpol badge. (He was on special assignment for them after all.) “And I need to look in your bag.”

“I thought you were going to help me with the cat puke,” said the belligerent man.

“Certainly,” Angus said and motioned to a waiting lackey. “Lieutenant, if you'd please?”

The Lieutenant hand the man some wet paper towels.

“Now may I see inside your bag?” Angus asked.

“No,” the man answered and took a swing at Angus.

“Attempting to assault an officer,” Angus chuckled. “I might not have had more than suspicion to look in before, now I have the right and duty to.”

Angus opened the bag. On top were some bags of a white powder and on the bottom a bottle of clear liquid and a rag. Also a cigarette lighter. An disassembled Molotov cocktail. Who knew what use he'd had planed for it. Angus pulled out his handcuffs and arrested the man. That made four arrests assisted by the cats today.

Rhys came into the room and looked around. He wanted to make certain he had detected the right out of place smells. He needed to know if he needed to do anything about it if he smelled that smell again.

“You were right, Rhys,” the Lieutenant said. “He had drugs and a weapon on him. Go back out there and keep up the good work.”

Rhys preened with the praise. He started purring a tune that sounded very much like “Mae Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau”. You could make a cat patrol the game but you couldn't keep him from cheering for his home country's team.

The game was set to start in an hour. Most of the fans would be in the stadium in the next half hour. The cats would remain in France through the weekend for the celebrations and commiserations to keep the peace.

A Job Well Done

Another day dawned over the Revolutionary City, as the promotional material called Colonial Williamsburg. Beru, Phoebe, and the other cats had been there, along with the human support staff, for about a week. It had been mostly boring but they had gotten the rhythm of the place down and could now tell when something was out of place, like now.

Phoebe and Beru sat outside the Raleigh Tavern Bakery, where the crumbs, scraps, and news were plentiful. They were people watching. There were three basic types of people who went into the bakery for sandwiches, cookies fresh from the wood fueled oven, and fountain drinks in the refillable cups with Tri-corn hat lids: costumed workers on their breaks; tourists with their clip on ticket badges; and college students from William and Mary getting the free refill on soda before class. The tourists covered all walks of life from farmers to big city folk but they all had a ticket of some type clipped somewhere visible so that the costumed guides at the restricted buildings would know who to let in.

A farmer, without a ticket, was looking around the little courtyard beside the building and not moving to get in line for the nummy smelling baked goods. He had a backpack and was constantly checking his watch. Finally he walked out of the courtyard.

Beru and Phoebe nodded at each other and followed him out. The sidewalk was crowded. The morning's little play about the dissolution of the House of Burgesses was in progress. The crowd was surging towards that building and the cats had to keep out of the way of all those feet. Phoebe took the right side of the crowd and Beru took the left. The scene of the Governor proclaiming the dissolution was over and the crowd dispersed around the building. Some went to other parts of the city and some lined up for the guided tours. Others just milled around looking at the building. The suspicious farmer did that. He circled around to the back where almost no one was and bent down as if to tie his shoe and let his back pack slide off. He nudged it next to the building and straightened up. Then he looked around saw the coast was clear, except for a couple of cats and wandered back around front.

Phoebe and Beru looked at each other and again silently communicated. Beru would follow the man while Phoebe would look into the back pack. One might think that a cat, a creature without opposable thumbs, might not be able to open the zipper on a back pack, but one would be wrong. Phoebe was a

M.E.O.W. trained agent and could open doors with doorknobs and undo zippers. She dug her claws into the fabric on the side near the zipper pull and hooked a fang in the large hole on the tab of the zipper. She shook her head to one side while pulling with her claws to the other. The zipper opened about six inches, which was enough to see what was inside. It was a bundle of Semtex and a digital clock counting down. Six and a half hours to go. Phoebe unhooked her claws and pushed the button on her collar and excitedly chattered away. Anyone listening would just think the cat had seen a bird in the tree and was calling to it, when she was relaying the information about the backpack and its contents.

Twenty minutes later the bomb was defused and Beru had chased down and subdued the farmer. Everyone thought they were in the clear. That is until Jed spoke up.

Jed's call came from over by the courthouse. He, too, had followed an unticketed farmer with a back pack. The pack had been set down at the base of the pillory, as if someone had taken it off to take a picture in the pillory and forgot about it. The bomb squad moved over there. They had it defused and were breathing easier when Dale's voice came on the line.

Dale had followed a third farmer and found another backpack next to the Governor's Palace. Its clock also set to go off at 5pm like all the others. The bomb techs moved over there and defused that one too. By this time it was getting to be late after noon.

“Guys, there is something you all ought to know,” spoke up Bobby, one of the bomb techs, over the radio. “None of the Semtex recovered from the bombs today was actually Semtex.”

“What do you mean?” asked Tucker. This was weird. Either the group wasn't as serious as they were reported to be or they were testing security.”

“It's blocks of modeling clay,” Bobby explained.

“Thanks, Bobby,” Tucker said. “Remember just because these bombs were as phony as my Grandmammy's Rolex doesn't mean that the next one won't be the real deal.”

“You expect another?” asked Phoebe's computer voice.

“Sure as shootin',” Tucker said. “So far we've found one every two hours since this place opened for business today and there are still four hours to go. I expect to find at least two more. So keep your eyes peeled.”

The cats redoubled their efforts. It would be easier if any of the three suspects arrested would talk but so far all they'd say was their name, they knew their rights, and the name and contact info of their lawyer. The fact that all three had the same lawyer out of West Virginia did seem to connect them to the plot they were sent down here to foil. Which was good news. Only one group of radicals to deal with.

Three o'clock came and Marley found another suspicious farmer with a back pack hanging around the gunsmith's shop. It was dealt with like the others and was determined to be modeling clay as well. The cats got more and more nervous with each dummy bomb found. Were they a test or a distraction? Either way the next could be real.

At half past four, Phoebe rounded the armory and found an abandoned back pack. No human in sight so she called it in. The bomb guys came and she left, to get out of the range of fire should it go up. It was policy that only those needed to deal with the bomb stayed in range. So she quickly went to join the other cats in the end of the day march to the Revolution. Costumed workers playing the part of the Virginia Army recruiting militia members were teaching tourist volunteers to march in formation. Then with the fife and drum corps leading the way lead the volunteers to the parade grounds before Governor's palace. In the week the cats had been there, they had taken to forming a line behind the volunteers and before the Army. Everyone thought it cute that the local cats got in on the parade so they kept doing it.

The parade reached the green and the volunteers were dismissed behind the ropes and the cats left with them. The marching and musket firing drills proceeded as normal. Then they got to the canon drill. The canon fired, but with a louder BOOM than normal.

“That one was real,” Bobby's voice came over the radio again. “The noise was the detonater being exploded in place.”

“So we can see if we can see who set it,” Beru surmised.

“Exactly,” said Tucker over the radio. “Anyone react different then the others?”

“I think I see a guy who keeps looking over at the armory,” Phoebe said. “Everyone else is cheering the end of the demo.”

“Go get that guy,” commanded Tucker.

The cats circled the guy. He was still looking at the armory and not paying attention to the cats. The five felines circled him and at the same time pounced. The combined weight of two Maine Coons, a Norwegian Forest Cat and two others toppled the man. Each cat took a different area on his body and dug their claws in. Dale radioed it in. Tucker arrived in minutes and arrested the man.

The cats' job being done, the retired to the outdoor seating area of the Raleigh Tavern for supper. The management of the Foundation had been informed who the cats were and what they had done to save the place so the cats were fed like the heroes they were. Big bowls of fresh from the cow cream, huge plates of meat, and finally cat mint custard for desert were laid out before the felines and they dined know their job had been done and done well.

A Day in the Life of Angus MacDougal

The alarm buzzed. Angus snaked an arm out of the covers and hit the snooze button. He curled up closer to his wife and the cat that had been disturbed by his movement settled on his shoulder with her head at his ear and purred. Loudly. Directly into his ear.

“Och, cat,” Angus said as he removed his arm from around his wife and batted at the cat. Nala, the cat, moved but only to his pillow and Meowed right in his ear.

“Ok. I'm getting up,” Angus told the cat as he sat up.

“Five more minutes,” Liz murmured next to him.

“Aye,” Angus whispered as he bent to kiss his wife's cheek. “Ye can have five more minutes, lass.”x

He swung his legs out of bed and picked up Nala, being careful not to jostle her feeding tube. The cat was improving and eating wet food but not enough so they were still feeding her through the tube. Liz was optimistic that Nala would have the tube removed at the end of the week. It wouldn't be soon enough.

Angus carried the Russian Blue cat into the bathroom and deposited her on the cushioned bed they had installed in there for Nala's comfort. Nala curled up in the center of the cushion and Angus covered her lightly with a small quilt. The cat normally wouldn't need the covering but between the area on her neck that was shaved for the feeding tube and tape and the area on her tummy that had been shaved for the ultrasound the cat was missing a good third of her fur and got cold easily. Nala napped as Angus went about his morning rituals.

While his parritch was reheating, Angus made up the cat's feed. He fed her. Nala had finally quit shaking her head and covering him with cat food flung from her feeding tube. Liz snuck in the bathroom to see her husband stroke the cat into purring after feeding her. She smiled. Angus may claim he cares for all the cats at M.E.O.W. equally but she knew the truth. Nala was his favorite.

Parritch eaten and dressed in his military uniform and utility kilt, Angus set off for his daily commute, with the cat strapped into the seat beside him in the Range Rover. Liz was driving her Mini right behind them. It was silly to take two vehicles when both he and Liz worked at the same place but with their jobs, it was rare that they left both the house and headquarters at the same time. It wouldn't do to strand one or the other of them at home.

Once at headquarters, Angus delivered Nala to the hospital wing, where Liz and the vet techs would take care of her during the day. Then he headed to his office to catch up on the paperwork generated by Clouder Number Nine. The Clouder hadn't been on active duty with Nala, their leader, on the sick and injured list, but still the paperwork piled up. There was the forms for the loan of Fiona to the Duke of Glasex and the reports for the completion of that job. Then there was the papers for the exchange of Phoebe with D.E.R.P. He also got the progress reports of that mission. He read through that and found that the cats were staking out an American historical tourist attraction. Who really thought targeting a place called Colonial Williamsburg would do anything? But if the threat was true, Beruthiel and Phoebe could stop it even without other cats as back up. Beru might have not seemed competent with her Southern drawl but she had proved to be a smart cat when she had been at M.E.O.W.

Angus finished the papers on his desk just in time for lunch. He went to the cafeteria and grabbed both his and Liz's lunches before joining her in her office. That was the good thing about hanging around headquarters, he could have lunch with his favorite person. Some weeks, their lunch dates were all they saw of each other so Angus and Liz made every effort to be available at that time.

The hour passed quickly, as usual, and soon Angus was making his way back to his office to check his schedule. It was, indeed, Kitten Evaluation Day. He grabbed the tablet with the files on the dozen six week old kittens. They were the offspring of the best agents of Clouder Number Six and Clouder Number Three. The two mothers had been on maternity leave and would get back to active status once the kittens were evaluated. The kittens not making the cut would be placed in the cat shelter M.E.O.W. runs as a cover for the local area.

Lewis, of Clouder Number Two, and Thomasina, of Clouder Number Six, had had six kittens. A one was all white, and another was white with black markings, like Lewis himself. Two more were all black like Thomasina. The last two were tuxedo kittens. The kittens would get names later today if accepted in for training. If not they'd get temporary names until adopted through the shelter.

Colonel Mustard, who ironically held a Captain's commission in Clouder Number Six, had had five kittens with Sushi of Clouder Number Three. Two of them were marmalade toms like their sire and two were Tortoise Shell females. The last kitten was a calico female with the attitude of a runt.

Angus shook his head. It was going to be an interesting afternoon. Lady Gwen would be helping with the evaluations and the parents would be around to keep an eye on the kittens and speak for them. The kittens were too young for collars just yet (give them a week to get use to normal collars and then they'd start getting the ones with basic translation and listening devices) so the other cats were need to tell Angus what the kittens said.

The testing went well and eight out of the eleven were accepted for training. The two tuxedo cats, now named James and Movaise, the calico named Laura, the all white cat named Pearl, one of the black cats named Fedsie, one of the marmalade toms named Creole, the white with black marking kitten now found himself named Clark, and one of the Tortoise Shell kittens found herself named Jane. They'd be moved to the barracks. The parent cats shooed them on a head and would help settle them in for training starting tomorrow.

Angus took the other three kittens, one on each shoulder and one in his arms, to the shelter. He eased them down and played with them and the other dozen kittens of various ages for a few minutes. These cats weren't cut out for field work but would still receive some training that if they overheard something that M.E.O.W. aught to know, they'd report it. The kittens would be adopted in to loving homes but were still apart of the M.E.O.W. family. If they ever needed a home, the shelter at headquarters would provide it. If the kittens chose to receive support personnel training instead of adoption that was also available. They just wouldn't be field agents.

Angus said good bye to the cats and went back to his office to file his reports. Two hours latter he left the office and picked up Nala for their evening commute. Dinner and more paperwork done at home and then finally to bed. He hoped that Clouder Number Nine would get a new field mission soon. He was tired of the tiny claw marks that the needle like claws of kittens left in his shoulder. For some reason, all kittens wanted to play Pirate Kitten and ride his shoulder. He needed an actual assignment or he might go stir crazy doing office work. His last thought was of the trouble a couple o the new kitten recruits could cause. The same qualities that made good agents caused kittens to behave in mischievous manners. It would be interesting to watch though. From a distance as he came in and out of HQ between assignments. Hopefully.

A Journey to the Revolutionary City

Phoebe and Marley made their way to their assigned patrol. It was several miles out of town and dark by the time they arrived. It was milking time so the followed the farmer in and settled behind some hay bales.

The farmer, John Adams (named by patriotic parents after the two dead Presidents), finished milking his two cows by hand and put the pails away for the family's use latter. He bedded the cows down for the night and started arranging hay bales in the empty area before the big double doors. He came towards where Phoebe and Marley were hiding. The cats quickly run and find other shelter before farmer John can see them. They found a shelf of buckets to hide under.

Twenty minutes later, people started streaming in. They found seats on the hay bales until there were no more seats left and then they leaned against the barn walls. All in all about thirty people from a variety of walks of life, there were town shopkeepers, other farmers, a local politician or two, and some state workers from both Virginias. They talked for a bit before Farmer John called the meeting to order.

“Let's get started with today's meeting of the Virginia Assembly of True American Patriots,” Farmer John started.

Over the next hour they planned and schemed. They arrived at a course of action that would let the world know how dissatisfied they were with the current state of affairs in the United States of America. They hatched a crazy plan to reignite the American Revolution and start the country over. They were going to blow up the place where the Revolution started.

The more they planned, the more worried Phoebe and Marley got. Marley told Phoebe, in a low rumbling purr, to get closer because she was smaller and gray and white so she could blend into the shadows. She did so in order to get a better reception for her collar so that DERP could record the conversation.

The meeting broke up an hour later. There was a plan but no start date. They agreed that it would go in effect in the next month but not until all the supplies could be gathered.

Phoebe and Marley worked their way out of the barn as the meeting broke up. They had to get back to headquarters as soon as possible. They had an explosion to prevent.

They arrived at the DERP farm just before midnight. Tucker had been listening and knew they were coming and had prepared a small midnight snack of cream and catfish for them. He had signaled the other cats to come back and there would be a planing session as soon as everyone was back. Phoebe and Marley enjoyed their small repast and went for a nap. There was no use waiting around when they could take a nap. Phoebe was pleased to see the Americans had a similar sensibility when it came to napping on missions. Why wait around when you could nap.

In the morning a meeting was held. Dale had relayed the information back to National Headquarters in D.C. and received orders back. Since they knew who was plotting and what they were planing, the West Virginia DERP could continue with the mission even though D.C. was closer to the target.

The five cats were soon in a beat up old jeep with Tucker heading down the road. They reached the target city, Colonial Williamsburg, Virginia, just as the daily activities were winding down. They watched the parade down to the green space before the Governor’s palace for the canon demonstration. The cats jumped at the sound of the blast. It wasn't that they weren't expecting it, it was just that that would make a good cover for someone to detonate a bomb around here. They looked around and saw that everything was just the way it had been before. They calmed down and waited for the tourists to go home or at least file into the taverns and hotels for dinner.

The cats spread out and Tucker made his way to check in to the hotel and get the keys to the Colonial Guesthouse that DERP had reserved for him to use as local head quarters. Dale went to check out the Capitol. Marley went to inspect the Governor's Palace and gardens. Beru and Jeb went to watch the taverns. Which left Phoebe to look through the trades buildings.

She went trough the milliner's, the tailor's, the silversmith's buildings without incident. Then she got to the carpenter's building. There was apparently a demand for rocking chairs since the workshop was full of them. Phoebe, being a Norwegian Forest cat, even if she was a runt, was worried. She had nice long fluffy fur and a long tail. Rocking chairs were the stuff of nightmares. She tried to pick her way through but managed to nudge one and it set a dozen off rocking, as they were packed in so tight. It took all her skill to wind her way through. She was almost to the exit when she miss judged the timing and got her tail caught beneath a chair and she suppressed a yowl. She didn't want the yowl on the record and DERP was listening to her collar.

The cats patrolled and investigated all night and found nothing. It was still early in the time frame for the attack. They would be here awhile longer. The cats joined Tucker at the guesthouse just as the morning tourists were arriving. They'd need back up to keep up a twenty-four hour patrol and the additional cats would arrive that afternoon. Now it was time for a bit of food and sleep. The patrol would resume again in the afternoon.

Taking Your Work Home With You

One of the joys of being responsible for Clouder Number Nine and being married to the Chief Vet at MEOW, was that when one of the cats, in this case Nala, was sick or injured and needed around the clock care they came to the MacDougal home to be nursed. Nala had been in the emergency ward, too sick to be moved for a week, but now that she was on the mend, she could commute with Angus so that Liz or one of her assistants didn't need to sleep at headquarters to care for her.. There was a more technical name for what Nala had but as far as Angus was concerned it just meant she had to be fed through a feeding tube every three hours and that was all he needed to know. If anyone wanted further details, they could go talk to Liz.

Angus didn't really mind. All that much. Nala was a very affectionate cat, most of the time, when she was off duty. After the first attempt or two to take revenge on him for treating her like a cat and not the highly trained operative she was. For example, when Angus finally had a chance to sit down and catch up on the rugby matches, Nala was content to sit on his lap and sleep and purr. It was rather relaxing listening to the purr and watch Scotland win a match and so Angus dozed for a bit. Then his watch alarm went off and startled both him and the feline on his lap. Unfortunately for him, Nala was trained to react to startling with claws out and as she was on his lap, so he was subjected to the indignity of scratches where scratches should not be. He let out a shout which brought Liz into the parlor from the kitchen.

“What is it?” she asked.

“The cat,” Angus growled as he picked her up by the middle and held her out to Liz. “Take the cat.”

Liz came over and took the cat from her husband. She cradled the cat to her and petted her into purring, murmuring sweet nothings to the feline.

“It's time for you to be fed,” Liz said as she carried Nala into the bathroom.

Liz sat on the edge of the bath tub and arranged the syringes of warm water and warm liquid food. She then arranged the cat in a towel to keep the claws from scratching her. Angus slipped in and closed the door behind him. Nala might understand what was going on but she was still cat enough not to want the humans to do to her what they needed to. She would bolt if she got the chance and they weren't going to let her have a chance.

Liz removed the feeding tube's cap and started giving the cat some of the water. Nala sat and allowed the indignity while plotting revenge. Projectile vomit, she hadn't tried that one in a while. Right as the humans are about to sleep. That would convey the right amount of contempt for this indignity.

Angus lifted his kilt to inspect the damage that cat claws had done. He drew in a breath. That cat had it in for him.

“That bad?” Liz asked as she swapped the water for food and continued feeding Nala.

“Och, no,” Angus said. “It's not bad just the placement. A couple more inches and I'd be singing like a lass for a few days.”

Liz giggled. Angus took out the disinfectant and cleaned the shallow cuts. Cats could get all sorts of nasty germs on their claws and it was best to clean the cuts as soon as possible.

Just then, Liz's phone rang. She stood up and handed the cat and the syringe of food to Angus.

“I have to get that,” Liz said. “That's the emergency tone. You'll have to feed her.”

She slipped out of the bathroom, leaving Nala to Angus. He looked down at the towel wrapped cat and tried to get a better grip on the feline but she wiggled out of his grasp. He chased her around the bathroom for a minute before finally throwing the towel on her. He whipped the towel around Nala and got a firm grip on her and carried her back to the bathtub. He sat on the edge of the tub and picked up the syringe and placed it in the feeding tube. He carefully pushed a few cubic centimeters of food into the feeding tube. That went well, so he pushed a few more CC’s. He petted the cat. She looked up at him and he swore he saw a mischievous grin on the cat's face. He ignored the implications and pushed a few more C’s of food into the tube.

Nala eased her head out of Angus's grip and smiled at him. She let him get a bit more food into her. She was rather hungry and the few stray bits of kibble she'd managed to eat earlier weren't going to give her enough energy to take her revenge. She bided her time. The food syringe was empty. Now was the time before he could get the water to flush the feeding tube. Nala shook her head and neck spraying the nasty smelling liquid food everywhere.

“Cat!!” Angus sputtered. Dang it. Some of the vile cat food ended up in his mouth.

Nala wriggled out of the towel again and ran away. She wormed her way into her favorite hiding spot – the small space behind the commode by the wall in the corner. Angus could reach her but it would be tricky to get a good grip. She knew that the feeding tube was good for her and that she needed the food, but it still hurt her catly pride to be fed in such a manner. What she couldn't forgive Angus for was that he forgot she was intelligent and treated her like she had no idea what was going on. Liz remembered it, most of the time, but Angus treated her like a … cat.

“Och, you wee beastie,” Angus sputtered and he rinsed out his mouth. If he was alone he'd let Nala sulk, but Liz had pressed upon him the importance of not letting the feeding tube get plugged with dried food, so he had to chase her down and use the water to flush it. He knew where she'd go to hide and sure enough there was a gray fur ball curled in the corner of the bathroom behind the commode.

Liz walked in to see her husband sitting on the floor trying to reach for the cat and getting his fingers snapped at for his trouble.

“Let me guess,” she said as she closed the door behind her. “You treated her like a cat and not an intelligent, rational being.”

“She is a cat,” he insisted.

“Aye, she is,” Liz agreed. “But she's also a highly trained spy. You know that. In the field you trust her with the security of this nation and your life, so why do you insist on forgetting that once back at headquarters or here?”

Angus looked a bit ashamed at that but before he could reply Liz continued speaking.

“Anyway, I've got to go back to HQ, Clouder 2 came back with injuries and I'm needed for surgery.” Liz walked over and pecked him on the lips. “I don't know when I'll be back. If it's too late, I'll sleep at the office.” With that, she left him to deal with Nala.

Angus looked at the feline and thought about what his wife had told him. He knew Nala was intelligent. He'd worked with her for the last couple years and they had saved each others' lives a couple times. But some how in their off hours he had focused more on the Cat part of her than the Spy part.

“Lassie,” Angus began. “I'm verra sorry. I forget that you know what's going on and that I should trust you to be reasonable.” He reached a hand out to her and she uncurled a bit. “I may forget sometimes, but I promise to try to remember that you are intelligent and not treat you like a dumb animal.” Her head peaked up. “Will ye forgive me?” Nala nodded. She stuck out a paw and he shook it. “Now will ye let me flush your feeding tube so it doesna clog up and cause problems?”

Nala stood and walked back towards the tub. Angus sat down on the edge, holding the syringe. The cat jumped up on his lap and looked up at him. He put the syringe in the tube and pushed a bit of water. Nala sat down on his lap and let him do what needed to be done. When the water was gone, Angus removed the syringe and replaced the cap.

He cleaned up the supplies and put them away, ready for the next feeding, which would be in a couple hours.

“All right, Nala,” he addressed the cat. “Shall we go finish watching that match?”

Nala looked up at him and purred. He opened the door and followed the cat out to the parlor. They made themselves comfortable and watched the match. Then when it was time to feed Nala again, things went much better with Angus treating her like any other colleague he'd nurse. Then both human and cat got ready for bed. As Liz wasn't home yet, Angus didn't mind when Nala burrowed under the covers next to him.

It was just after midnight, when Liz slipped into the bedroom. Angus woke and watched her as she got ready for bed. She lifted the covers to slide in next to him but he stopped her.

“Careful,” he said. “You donna want to squish the wee lassie.”

“Where is she?” Liz asked.

“Under the covers next to my knee on your side of the bed,” Angus answered.

Nala, as if sensing they were talking about her, shifted in her sleep. This brought her whiskers into contact with the backside of his bare knee. The touch was light and tickled him. Angus let out an unmanly giggle at being tickled.

“I'll move her,” Liz said as she reached under the covers and drug the cat out. With practiced ease, Liz slid into bed, still holding the cat with one hand. She settled for sleep, placing the feline on her chest.

Nala was still half asleep. She didn't know what was going on besides she had been suddenly removed from her safe, warm spot, so she burrowed back under the covers. She worked her way between the humans, tail flicking back and forth to tickle them both.

Angus, wide awake now, leaned over to kiss his wife. What with one thing and another it had been a couple weeks since they had both been in bed and awake, so the kiss grew a bit passionate. Angus rolled over to get closer to Liz, but he was half way there when a strangled MEOW sounded from under the covers. He reached down to move the cat so he wouldn't squish her, but she didn't stay where he put her. Within seconds, Nala was back between the humans. Angus tried a couple more times, with the same results.

“I guess we'll just have to sleep,” Liz laughed.

“I guess so,” Angus agreed. He kissed Liz lightly and lay on his back. “Good night.”

“Good night, dear,” Liz said as she lay back down. She was so tired that she was drifting off to sleep at once. Just before she fell completely asleep she heard Angus muttering something that sounded like “I canna believe I've been cockblocked by a cat.” She smiled and slid into peaceful sleep.

Attack at the Castle

After a full Scottish breakfast for the humans and a plate of tasty salmon pate for Fiona, the Duke and Duchess of Glasex, their daughter, Lady Anne, and the aforementioned feline, Fiona, exited the Royal Scotsman train for a day of sightseeing. Up first was a trip to see Eilean Donan Castle. It wasn't that the Duke and his family had never seen a castle, they lived in one after all, but this castle had more romance and history about it then theirs. Their castle was a small one that had been in the family without dispute for over four hundred years. This castle had been abandoned after the Jacobite rebellion and recently made safe enough for tours. Lady Anne had been studying about the Jacobites in school and that was the reason they were on this vacation.

The motor coach that took the passengers from the train to the castle was every bit as luxurious as the train. Fiona even had her own seat next to Lady Anne. She was again on the leash but at least her tactical collar had been returned to its rightful place. The leash was for appearances only, as she and the Duke knew, Fiona was only pretending to be leash trained. She was going along with the plan until she was needed and then she'd use the break away feature of the leash to protect her charge.

Fiona had a funny feeling about this excursion. If she were trying to kidnap Lady Anne, this would be where she'd do it. It was five days into an eight day trip- long enough to lull them in to thinking nothing was going to happen and with enough time left to try again if unsuccessful. The castle also provided good cover and opportunities to separate Lady Anne from her parents. Fiona hoped that they'd see Lady Anne with nothing but a cat to defend her and try something. She enjoyed showing just what damage a fifteen pound cat with teeth and claws can do.

The coach pulled up to entrance and everyone disembarked. Sure enough, anxious to explore, Lady Anne separated from her parents. She wondered to the far side of the island while the Duke was still caught up in reading the names on the World War I memorial. The Duchess was busy looking inside the castle with the other women.

Lady Anne and Fiona wondered down to the water where the three Lochs met. The girl saw something in the water and wasn't paying attention to her surroundings. The cat divided her attention between their surroundings and making sure that if Lady Anne fell in she wouldn't take the cat with her. Fiona didn't mind the water so much and had in fact been trained to swim and complete missions that involved getting wet, she just wasn't crazy about being drug into water for no reason other than a human dragged her in.

Fiona was looking at Anne, who was just about to tip over in the water, when a crunching sound on the gravel sounded. Fiona pulled back on her leash to pull Lady Anne away from the water as a pair of hands came around the girl. The cat instantly broke the leash and launched herself at the attacker. She had her claws out and attached herself around the attacker's face. He tried to remove the angry cat and let go of Lady Anne. The girl ran a few paces away and saw that her cat wasn't coming too so she ran back and kick at the man.

Fiona let go with one paw to be able to press a button on the side of her collar. She reattached the paw with it's claws into the attacker's neck. She let out a yowl right into the man's ear. Between them, Fiona and Lady Anne managed to topple the man. Fiona parked herself right over his sternum with her claws dug into his fleshy sides.

Elsewhere on the castle grounds, the Duke of Glasex's phone buzzed with an incoming text alert. He dug out his phone and checked who the text was from.

“I'll be...” the Duke said.

“What?” asked his Duchess.

“I got a text from the cat,” he said as he opened the text. He read it and shoved the phone into her hands. “Go get the security guards and come around the back of the castle.”

The Duke didn't wait for her to react, he ran around the castle, just in time to see the cat and his daughter topple the man. If he hadn't seen the cat in action he wouldn't have believed it. He ran the rest of the way to them.

Fiona looked up at the Duke and opened her mouth to tell him something. “Meow?” was all he heard.

He came over and put a foot on the mans chest while reaching down to pet the cat.

“Meow?” Fiona repeated. The Duke just looked at her. She pick up a paw and tapped her ear. The Duke remembered the ear piece and pulled it out of his pocket and put it in his ear.

“Back up coming?” Fiona's computerized Irish voice asked.

“My wife should be bringing security at any moment,” he answered.

The Duchess and a couple security guards came around the corner. Security to custody of the attacker and hauled him off. The Duke made arrangements to press charges later but took his wife, daughter, and the cat back to the train.

“I didn't believe it when they told me that a cat would be a good bodyguard,” the Duke said as they gathered in the lounge car for soothing drinks – whiskey for the Duke and Duchess, hot chocolate for Lady Anne, and cream for Fiona. “But after seeing you in action, I'll admit it was brilliant.”

His Grace sat next to Fiona and scritched her behind her ear. “When you have time off, you'll be more than welcome to Glasex Castle.”

“We'll treat you like the most pampered pet ever,” added Lady Anne.

Fiona leaned into the petting and purred loudly. She would take them up on the offer for her next vacation but for now she was going to enjoy the rest of this train trip. Her job was done and she could relax.