User:Erastus/Serving the Sentence - Part 10
{{#ifeq: User |User| Serving the Sentence - Part 10/14 | Serving the Sentence - Part 10/14}}[[Title::{{#ifeq: User |User| Serving the Sentence - Part 10/14 | Serving the Sentence - Part 10/14}}| ]]
{{#ifeq: | |
{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus Centaur | Erastus Centaur}} | |
{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus | Erastus}} | ||
Author: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus | Erastus}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus | Erastus}}]] [[Author::{{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus | Erastus}}| ]]
}} |
{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus | Erastus}} | |
Author: {{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus Centaur | Erastus Centaur}} |
Author: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus | Erastus}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus Centaur | Erastus Centaur}}]] [[Author::{{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus Centaur | Erastus Centaur}}| ]]
}}
}} |
{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus Centaur | Erastus Centaur}} | |
{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus | Erastus}} | | Authors: ' |
Authors: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus | Erastus}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus | Erastus}}]]
}} |
{{#ifeq: {{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus | Erastus}} | |
Authors: {{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus Centaur | Erastus Centaur}} |
Author: [[User:{{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus | Erastus}}|{{#ifeq: User |User| Erastus Centaur | Erastus Centaur}}]]
}}
}}
}} {{#if:| — see [[:Category:{{{category}}}|other works by this author]]}}
A police car pulled up to the house mid afternoon in early February. The two officers knocked on the door. Professor welcomed them in.
Dave had, of course, paced the squad car and headed for the barn. The mares either saw the car or saw Dave flag his tail several times. They entered soon after Dave and gathered with him around the intercom.
Since no one wanted to ride in February any more than December, Stan had already completed his chores and had gone home.
The intercom soon crackled to life. Professor could be heard saying, "I hope you don't mind allowing my stableboy to hear about this."
"Not at all," said a deep voice.
"You were saying?" prompted Professor.
"I was saying that there were two robberies yesterday that you need to be aware of. The first was at the auction appraiser's office in Livingston. The thieves ransacked his files and apparently stole several of his appraisals. He thinks that one of them was for your horses. Do you happen to have a copy?"
Professor could be heard rummaging through his desk for a moment, "Ah, here it is."
"Yes. It shows your horses are very valuable. That leads to the other of yesterday's crimes. Another rancher reported that his stallion was stolen at about 2:30 last night. He says his horse was appraised by the same man for three hundred fifty thousand, a bit more than your mares. The appraiser claims that file was another one stolen.
"Professor, we have reason to believe the thieves will target your barn tonight. Your horses, especially the stallion are a prime catch for them."
"What can I do?"
Another voice spoke, much higher than the first one. "We need you to stay out of the way. The thieves probably won't use bullets as a half million dollar horse that's dead is worthless. They will use tranquilizer darts and a dart loaded to put a two thousand pound horse to sleep will kill a two hundred pound man. A dart in your toe could be just as deadly as a bullet through the brain. So even though you want to protect a half million dollar investment, your life isn't worth it."
"I can understand that," said Professor.
"Beyond that," said the higher voice, "we're not sure yet. We've planned a stakeout around your place tonight, but we have a dilemma. We want to protect your animals, yet we would also like a way to track down the horse that was stolen yesterday."
The deep voice continued, "Here's how you can contact us." Dave could imagine the cops handing over business cards, or whatever it is that cops use. "We will also keep you informed. Thank you for your time, sir."
"And thank you for the warning," said Professor.
A few moments later, the squad car could be heard driving away.
Dave said, "Well girls, any suggestions?"
Zane said, "I think the --"
"Hold it right there," Jack interrupted. "You're not seriously going to put this kid in charge of our safety, are you?"
"Yes, Jack, we are," said Amos. "He is our stallion."
Jack snorted. "He may have the equipment, but any one of us, and especially Zane and her 'Nam experience would be a better choice to lead us. This isn't some little circus with clueless computer thieves. We're talking serious trouble. We're talking tranq darts, horsenapping, and either the possibility of an irate owner when we return to human or being bred so frequently we're trapped in horse form. Nuh-uh. I want someone with experience in charge."
Amos could see Dave's ears go back so stepped between them. "No, Jack. Dave is in charge. He has learned a lot in the last six months about delegating and accepting advice. I'm sure he will make sure Zane's experience is used."
"There you go hiding behind your women. A real stallion would speak for himself."
"All right, Jack," Dave bellowed. His ears were flat. Amos quickly stepped out of the way. "I've had enough. Out!"
Jack didn't move. Dave stepped forward. "I said, out!"
Dave took two more steps towards a surprised Jack. "Out! I mean it! You are not welcome in this barn."
Jack had put up with verbal rebukes from Amos and Zane. That was nothing. But no one had actually threatened her before.
Dave took another step. "I don't care where you go. I don't care if you ever return to human. I want you out of here!" Another step.
Jack held her ground. No one had dared to order her around before.
"I don't care if you ever regain your precious cock or if the horsenappers get you. Out." Dave could almost touch Jack's nose.
Jack fled.
The barn was silent for a whole minute. Amos broke it, asking, "Do you think it was wise to expose her to danger?"
"As you keep saying, I'm the stallion."
"Of course, Dave."
A very long and very quiet minute later, Dave said, "You were saying, Zane?"
Zane said, "I think the police were hinting that they would like volunteers."
"Volunteers for what?"
"Volunteers to be a prisoner. Let the thieves nab a horse, but in such a way that it leads the police to the previously stolen horse."
"You mean using one of us as bait?" asked Dave.
"Essentially, yeah."
"So why not just ask?"
"I don't think even the police would feel right about saying, 'A three hundred thousand dollar horse has been stolen. May we use your five hundred thousand dollar horse as bait?' On the other hand, the police won't turn it down if Professor makes an offer."
They talked for a while longer, then Dave spoke to Professor on the intercom, "We have a plan we'd like to discuss with you."
{{#if:stars|{{#if:|
{{{2}}} 
|
}}|
}}
Zane was impressed with the number of cops that joined the stakeout. As darkness fell, Zane could look across the fields and see cop cars behind several clumps of brush. There were cops spread across the perimeter of the pastures. There were even two cops in the hayloft, which meant the horses had to act like horses, and a third cop who would stay with the horses until the intruder alert was given.
It was after three when the Oren, the cop on the floor, heard his walkie-talkie crackled. Mike reported a truck passing his position in the south pasture. Oren thanked him, and called up to the loft, "Tony, Walt, it is showtime."
Tony said, "Roger. Come on Walt, wake up."
Oren picked up the small radio beacon, turned it on, checked it with his receiver, then walked over to Dave's stall. "Come on, horsie, I've got a little treat for you."
Dave quickly and calmly swallowed the proffered beacon.
Oren went into the tack room to hide. He was surprised when the three mares let themselves out of their stalls and went quietly past him and out behind the barn. The horses had agreed it would do no good to expose them all to danger and that the thieves would want to work quickly, not bothering with horses they would have to search for.
Five minutes later, a truck came up the lane and pulled up outside the big door. It sounded like it was being backed up to the door. Dave waited until then to let himself out of his stall and stand near the big door. He had had a long time of undisturbed thought that evening, once the cops climbed into the loft, to consider things carefully.
Dave, and no doubt the police, could hear the thieves pick the padlock that had been installed that afternoon. The police were amazed at the lack of security and had insisted on at least the appearance that expensive horses were inside.
The door was pushed open. From the glow of the yard light, Dave took in the situation. The open back of the truck was just a few feet away. The thief that had opened the door was startled to see a huge stallion in front of his face. Another thief had the dart gun in his hands. A third, with a wary expression, was lowering the lift on the back of the truck.
Dave knew the he had a main task to accomplish, so let the thieves guide him onto the lift and, once the lift was raised, from there into the truck. As soon as his guide let go of his halter and walked to the back of the truck, Dave kicked him. He was satisfied to hear bones crack. The man went down, first screaming, then releasing a stream of profanity.
The dart gun was quickly raised and used. Dave felt the expected sting beside his tail and calmly lay down so that he wouldn't hurt himself in falling over.
Before darkness swallowed him Dave thought, it worked! He was going to be tranquilized sooner or later from the looks of the one with the gun and the thieves wouldn't hurt their prize in any other way. Might as well get in a blow for the good guys while he could.
{{#if:stars|{{#if:|
{{{2}}} |
}}|
}}
When Dave awoke, he was sprawled on the floor of the truck. The light through the vents told him it was sometime after dawn, though Dave couldn't tell if daybreak had been minutes or hours ago. The truck was slowing to a stop. A moment later, the engine was turned off. Wherever they were going, they had arrived. A minute after that, the door opened. Dave blinked in the bright light and soon focused on a familiar barn door. Dave slowly got to his feet.
Oren the cop noted that Dave was awake as he unfolded the lift. He then climbed in to grab Dave's halter. Dave beat him to it by stepping onto the lift. The cop soon had Dave standing on the ground. Professor was there, as were the mares, though Jack kept her distance.
"Thanks for offering the use your horse, Professor. Two of the perps are in jail and the third will be there soon once his leg is in a cast. The other rancher also thanks you for helping rescue his horse." They shook hands. Oren then patted Dave on the neck. "From the report of that broken leg, I'm glad your stallion was on our side." The cop left.
Once the truck was out of earshot, Zane said, "So what happened? Was there a big shootout?"
"I have no idea," said Dave. "I just woke up. What happened here?"
"The cops radioed in that you were loaded into the truck, you kicked one of them, and then they sped away as soon as they could get the truck door closed. You must have spooked them, as they never came into the barn to look for us. A moment later the cops reported that they were in careful pursuit."
Professor added, "Officer Walt reported that they apprehended both the thieves and their contacts at a rest stop on I-90 twenty-five miles east of here. They were caught while money was changing hands. As far as the police are concerned, it is a pretty tight case."
The stories continued for several minutes, but soon most of them began to drift away. Amos said to Dave, "Thank you, Dave."
"For what? All I did was lie there in the truck unconscious."
"You put your life at risk for someone else, someone you didn't even know. That rates pretty high in my book. And your kick wasn't half bad either." Amos twitched her ears. "The cops who saw it were quite impressed that a horse would do such a thing. They promise not to get on your bad side."
"What do you mean, I put my life at risk?"
"Oh, I can think of a hundred ways in which that little adventure could have gone wrong."
"I think one will be enough." Dave's eyes were getting big.
"Only one? Then we'll go with the tranquilizer dart. You say you just woke up. That implies the dosage was a bit too high, even for a big guy like you. A little bit more and it could have killed you. And there is always the risk of an allergic reaction."
Dave visibly gulped. "So why didn't you tell me all about these risks before we got into this mess?"
"Because I realized it wouldn't have made any difference in your decision. It is good to see a stallion willing to risk his life for another."
{{#if:stars|{{#if:|
{{{2}}} |
}}|
}}
Two days later, after another snowstorm dumped yet another inch of snow. Jack approached Professor as he was scraping the snow off his car.
"Good morning Jack," Professor called out. "Though it is mornings like this where I would much rather live in town instead of facing a commute over icy roads."
Professor took a good look at Jack, "How are you doing, Jack? Did Stan work things out?"
"Yeah, he stacked up bales of straw under the roof overhang outside the tack room. He even found a second blanket for me. I think he brought it from his parent's place." Professor had noticed Jack looked bulkier than usual. "It is such a relief to get out of the way of that aspiring dictator and his fawning groupies that I don't mind the cold."
Professor stopped scraping and turned to face Jack, but said nothing. It seemed the perception of Dave inside the barn had shifted.
"But my cozy living arrangements aren't what brought me out here to talk to you away from the others," continued Jack. "I was thinking about mating season next month. It's no secret that I think Dave is abusing his role as stallion, the little twerp." It certainly isn't a secret, thought Professor. He returned to his scraping while Jack talked. "I am pretty sure he will refuse me when I come into heat. I can't bear to be a mare for any longer that I absolutely have to. How about getting a stud service for me?"
The professor studied Jack for a moment, then sighed. "Sorry, Jack, the answer is no. We'll leave out the things you did to make the problem worse and look at only the practical and financial. This ranch runs on a shoestring, there is very little extra money. We can't afford it."
"I've got lots of savings!" protested Jack.
"And we can't get at any of it without your signature. We can't even use it as collateral for a loan. You know that."
"It doesn't have to be an expensive stud. I'm not looking to be the mother of the next Triple Crown winner!"
"And Dave's services are free. You forget the fifty percent success rate for stud services. You would have to at least double any quoted fees. But think of another aspect. We're talking about your child. Even if that child will remain a horse, you won't be happy being studded by any run-down, bedraggled, excuse for a stallion that we might find around here for the price we can afford. Compare that against Dave, who has been judged to be a very fine horse, worthy of siring your offspring. The answer is no."
"But that little twerp hates me!" sputtered Jack. "He'll refuse."
"Well, you have about a month to do something about that."
Professor climbed into his car, shut the door, and started the engine, drowning out the stream of profanities from Jack.