Chapter Nine
By the time Jasper got the computers up and running, Bitsie’s food trucks had arrived. Keeping track of all the people in the compound was a nightmare.
A flash of movement caught my eye. Crap! “Dodson is at it again, Dad.”
“What’s he trying to get into this time?” Dad growled.
“Mom’s helicopter and the hangar.”
Grandpa’s voice sounded in my ear. “I’ll deal with him.”
“It’s time Dodson left,” Dad stated.
Grandpa stepped out of his RV. “I agree. Let’s see how fast he can run.”
Julie shot me a worried look. “You don’t think they’re letting Bodacious out, do you?”
“Yep.”
“But he’ll attack your grandfather too.”
I shook my head. “Nope. Bodacious is afraid of Grandpa.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep. He actually ran from him.”
Julie frowned. “Huh? Imagine that.”
I zoomed in on Dodson. “Our CIA agent just put a tracker on the chopper.”
“I bet that snotwad has planted listening devices all over the place too,” Julie huffed indignantly.
Mom chuckled. “Logan is retrieving the bugs.”
“For a CIA agent he’s not very good at blending in,” Lucas interjected.
“He has never done field work before,” Grandpa said.
I shook my head in disgust. Dodson was too busy trying to pick the lock on the hangar to notice Grandpa approaching him. “And it shows.”
“He’s not very good at picking locks, either,” Julie commented.
Grandpa stopped behind Dodson. “How fast can you run?”
Dodson stiffened and casually placed his hand on the butt of his gun.
“Can you run faster than 1,200 feet per second? In case you didn’t know, that’s the average speed of a 9mm bullet fired from my gun,” Grandpa warned.
Dodson raised his hands.
“Turn around. Slowly.”
His teeth bared in a snarl; Dodson complied. “I’m going to have you arrested for assault with a deadly weapon,”
“And we’ll charge you with espionage, treason and gunrunning.”
His left eye twitched. “You can’t prove any of that.”
“Yes, we can. With two fingers, slowly take your weapon out and drop it on the ground,” Grandpa instructed.
Dodson complied.
“Bodacious is heading your way, Grandpa,” I warned.
A nasty smile curved Grandpa’s mouth and he holstered his gun. “I hate paperwork. If you can outrun that bull, you are free to go.”
“Piece of cake.” Dodson sprinted for the gate.
Bellowing loudly, Bodacious charged after him.
“Dang, he can really run,” Julie gasped.
“Gotta say, I’m impressed.” I adjusted the camera’s focus.
Lucas climbed onto the gate and yelled, “Sic ’em Bodacious.”
“Are you crazy? That bull is trying to kill me! Shoot it!” Dodson dived to one side and barely avoided Bodacious’s deadly hooves.
A crowd gathered at the fence to watch the chase.
I shook my head in disbelief. Some of the guys were placing bets.
“Enough is enough,” Mom said in my ear. “Gemma put Bodacious back in his corral.”
“Yes. ma’am.” I looked over at Julie. “The console is all yours.”
“Got it.” Julie winced. “You better hurry. Dodson is tiring.”
I bolted out of the command center and crashed into my brother Nate.
“What’s the hurry?”
I darted around him and called over my shoulder, “They sic’d Bodacious on that CIA agent.”
“So?”
“If Bodacious hurts the idiot, the livestock investigators might insist on putting him down.” I bolted out the back door and sprinted for the barn.
Nate ran alongside me. “Dad would be pissed. He loves that bull.”
“Yep.” Grabbing a bucket, I hurried into the feed room and filled it with oats.
My brother opened the corral gate and stood behind it. “Good luck.”
I walked into the pasture and hollered, “Bodacious! Oats!”
He skidded to a stop.
I held up the bucket. “Looky! Yummy oats.”
The bull trotted over to me and butted my chest.
I scratched his ears. “You’re such a good boy.” Backing toward the corral, I poured a line of oats on the ground. Bodacious happily followed me.
Once we were inside the corral, Nate quickly shut the gate and headed for Dodson who was sprawled on the ground, gasping for air.
I poured the rest of the oats into Bodacious’s trough and patted his shoulder. “You’ve been a busy boy today.”
Frank walked over to the corral. “When are you coming back to work?”
“Sunday.”
“Thank God, they have Evans working your district and he is a lazy sonovabitch. I needed a backup for a drunk driver, and he refused to break from a burglary report he was taking,” Frank groused.
“That’s not good. Have you talked to the sarge about it?”
“No, he’s got a lot on his plate right now.” He frowned. “Shit Dodson is fighting with Nate.” Frank started to climb over the fence.
I stopped him. “Don’t bother. My Grandfather is right behind him.”
“Wow,” Frank exclaimed. “For an old guy, your grandfather has some moves.”
I nodded. “That he does.”
The dinner bell rang. “Food is ready,” Mom yelled.
Frank rushed off.
That man had a hollow leg.
“Get me the enchilada plate,” Julie instructed.
“Will do.” I headed for the food trucks.