Chapter Forty-Seven: Rescue Mission
Meanwhile, at the spa, the six mares were being given deep tissue massages, their bodies melted under experienced hooves. After finishing a lengthy conversation about Rarity’s upcoming line for the season, the purple-maned unicorn questioned Fluttershy on how things were going with Smokey and Chenoa.
The addressed mare lifted her head, almost half-asleep. Eyes lolling lazily, she smiled at her blissfully.
“Things are going absolutely wonderfully. Smokey is doing splendidly with Chenoa… He’s an incredible father.”
***
Spike and Smokey found themselves in a field of filled holes where the diamond dogs had made their escape. Vent out on the verge of delirium, Smokey was on his knees and sobbing over the kidnapping of his child.
“I am the worst father ever!” he wailed.
“Smokey… Hey -- hey, Smokey, calm d… SMOKEY. SMOKEY!” Jumping up and extending his arm up to grasp the larger dragon’s ear frill, he used his free hand to smack him across the face. “SNAP OUT OF IT!”
Letting go and allowing himself to drop to the ground, he sighed, partially glaring up at his friend.
“You can’t blame yourself for what happened. I blamed myself for not being able to save Rarity, but we can’t sit here and beat ourselves up about it! We just have to go down there and save Chenoa!”
Ceasing his blubbering, Smokey couldn’t decide whether he should be more surprised that he had been acting so pathetic or of the fact that Spike actually struck him. He soon discarded both options and nodded, pulling himself to his feet.
“I’m sorry, Spike. You’re right…” With a look of determination, he surveyed the piles of dirt surrounding them. “Let us look for the pile of dirt with the most loose soil. They’ve most likely gone down that particular hole.”
The baby dragon nodded once, seeing the reasoning behind Smokey’s words. Examining the loose piles of dirt, he spotted one that looked like the freshest of upturned soil. Hopping up onto it, he twisted his tail around in a corkscrew fashion and span it around.
It appeared unorthodox, especially with it reached a high speed… and yet, somehow it made a particularly effective drill as Spike began to dig straight down.
Smokey stared, blinking, as Spike drilled his way down. It was unusual, yet effective! Either way, he was pleased the small dragon was so useful in their plight. He would make sure to acquire extra gems for him later…
It didn’t take long -- a few minutes, but soon the dirt had been cleared away to reveal a long tunnel that descended into darkness. Good timing, too, Spike felt. The tail-drill he had utilized proved to be a bit of a strain and he was feeling a little drained.
Grinning from ear frill to ear frill, Smokey jumped in… and accidentally flattened Spike in the process. Sitting on his rear and the smaller dragon, the red-scaled reptile scanned the area blindly as his eyes adjusted.
“Spike? Spiiiiike!” he called out. “Oh, don’t tell me you’ve been captured, too!”
Frantic muffled noises sounded out from directly underneath the significantly bigger draconian. Of all things to find himself buried under, another dragon’s bum wasn’t exactly what Spike had anticipated.
Feeling the smaller dragon squirming underneath him, Smokey instantly lifted himself up. Helping Spike to his feet, he profusely apologized and dusted his scales off.
Upon looking back, the purple dragonling would be grateful that -- at the time -- he was at least facing down. Glaring up at his friend, and spitting out a mouthful of dirt, he shook his head to clear it as he dusted his hide.
“Pweh, pweh,” Spike spat, ridding his oral cavity of the rest of the dirt. “Warn me next time you’re gonna do something like that, will ya?”
“I’m sorry, really. That will not happen again, I assure you,” Smokey said, brushing the last bit of soil off the baby dragon’s scales. “Let us just find Chenoa and leave.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Once both pairs of eyes adjusted, the dragons paused, finding that the path branched off in several directions. “So… Uh… Which path do we take?”
***
Rover, the medium-sized pitbull, grinned, whirling around and falling back against the tunnel wall.
“Heh heh heh… Good work, boys!” he complimented, dropping the bag -- and their unknown captive. “Those two dopes didn’t even know what hit ‘em!”
“Heh.” Fido, the brawny mastiff, smirked as he cracked his knuckles. “That big dragon wasn’t so tough.”
“Nyeh.” Spot, the small bulldog, sneered. “That little one put up a decent fight, though. When’d he get skilled?”
“Eh, you’re just a wuss,” Fido snerked. “Can’t even handle a baby dragon.”
“H-hey! You take that back! I could’ve handled him!”
“Chya. Wuss.”
“Oooh, you just wait! If I ever see that little puke again -- I’ll trash him!”
“Calm down,” Rover snapped. “We got the gems, didn’t we? Another job well done. Let’s just relax or something. All that fightin’ nearly wore me out.”
“Fighting?” Fido repeated, furrowing his thick brows. “You weren’t fighting at all!”
“Hey, somedoggy had to carry the bag! And those gems were heavy!”
Fido smirked in a challenging manner and swiped the dirty sack, lifting it up and down to test its weight.
“It doesn’t feel heavy.”
“That’s ‘cuz yer a lug! ‘Course it wouldn’t feel heavy to ya. A boulder wouldn’t feel heavy to you!” Rover responded.
“Oh yeah…”
The large canine blinked in realization and dropped the sack… right on Rover’s foot. Rover’s eyes shot open wide, and he jolted straight up. Face twisted in a grimace, he released a long, loud howl of pain.
“AW -- OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!!”
***
Not too far off, Spike and Smokey shifted their attention down the tunnel where the echoing howl originated from.
“Hey! You hear that?! That sounds like them!” Kicking it into high gear, Spike lead the way down the path. “This way!”
***
“Sorry,” the bigger dog apologized, just now noting what he had accidentally done.
“You idiot!” Rover snarled, hopping around on one foot while clutching onto the one that had been crushed underneath the weight of the sack. “You moron! You imbecile! You dope! You could’ve given us away!”
“We’re already several feet underground!” Spot interjected. “Who’s gonna hear us??”
“Will youse shut yer mugs?! Do ya’s want da cavoin at cave in?” came a high-pitched male voice emanating from the inky blackness several yards deeper into the cavern.
“Aaaah, shut’cher yap!” Rover snipped in indignation. The little runt who addressed them was just an annoyance, as far as he was concerned. The cavern wouldn’t fall on them! The structure was sound! “This here’s solid as a rock!”
He gave the wall he had been leaning against a hard smack to prove his point.
He then received a small stalactite to the head for his trouble, much to his painful chagrin… and to the remaining dogs’ everlasting amusement.
Spot, Fido, and the shrill-voiced diamond dog still cloaked in the shadows laughed for a few short moments. Once the laughter subsided, the hidden dog emerged from the darkness to reveal that he was actually no taller than Spike. His musculature and largeness of the snout that he was of the bull terrier breed. His coat was dyed a very light warm gray, and the spot over his eye was a rich dark chocolate brown.
“Rover, ya numbskull,” he chuckled with a smug grin.
While he and the other canids were distracted, the baby griffon stowed away in the sack of gems wriggled her way out and toddled off, completely oblivious of the situation.
“Owww…” Rover groaned, rubbing his head.
“Heh heh… Too funny,” said Fido.
“Whatever,” the pitbull-like dog snorted, curling up on the ground, his head still smarting. “I’m just gonna lie down here.”
“I don’t think so. Da boss wants to see youse guys,” the tiny canine informed, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“Eh? Oh,” Rover groaned, getting back up. “What’s he want?”
“Dunno, but best not ta keep him waiting,” Fido stated, lumbering past the bull terrier. “C’mon, let’s go.”
“He wants ta know why ya didn’t make dis week’s quota,” the small dog replied as he turned around on his heel to lead the way deeper into the cavern.
“But, Rex, we just made this week’s quota! We got it all in that bag back there!” Rover thumbed over his shoulder, not bothering to look behind him and subsequently not noticing the chick wander off. “We were working hard just gathering it for him all day today!”
“Den he wants ta know why ya haven’t made it on time,” Rex elaborated, his brows sinking as he continued on.
“Oh, uh, yeah, that! We got a good reason. We, uh…” He reached to smack Fido upside the head. “Why are we late with da boss’ quota?!”
“Hey, don’t look at me!” the brawny dog snapped. “You’re the pack leader here! This was YOUR responsibility!”
The bull terrier smirked to himself. This was going to be good.
As they entered the main chamber, they stopped before a massive pile of assorted gemstones. A single canine sat at the very top, clad in a blue denim vest and a few golden necklaces dangling from his neck with the most prominent chain connected to a medallion in the shape of a “T”. Judging by the black and brown markings, broad face and muzzle, and thickness of body, he was rottweiler-esque. But the puffs of curly hair on his joints, the ends of his ears, and upon his cranium molded into a mohawk suggested he was part poodle.
Rover gulped, clearing his throat. He tried not to let his nervousness show -- and he wasn’t entirely successful at it.
“Um… Hey there… Boss.”
“Hey, Boss! I got the guys youse wanted!” he called up at the dog atop of the gem mountain.
Attention stolen, he stuffed the pink diamond he had been engrossed in admiring in his breast pocket and slid down the slope of the heap of precious stones. As his feet touched the ground, he stood tall, crossing his arms and glowered at the trio expectantly.
“You turkeys got some explaining to do.”
“Um, yes!”
Rover knew the boss wasn’t the type of individual one wanted to get on their bad side. Not unless one wanted a serious decking -- and he and the others knew well he was quite capable of pulling it off. He had seen him bend iron bars in half, and rumor had it he had punched out a shark!
“Well, you see, we were gathering up your gems, Boss! We had just gotten the amount you wanted when… when… Fido here lost them!” He pointed over at the brutish member of the trio. “Wasn’t even looking as the gems tumbled down into a ravine! We tried to save ‘em, Boss, really we did, but we couldn’t! We got more, but that made us late!”
“Mr. T-Bone don’t want excuses. Mr. T-Bone wants gems,” the burly canine responded firmly, the intonation in his voice enough to even make his own right paw dog shiver a little bit.
“Er, yes, Mr. T-Bone!” A nervous grin spread itself across Rover’s jaws. “Not to worry! We got the gems! They’re right--”
He turned to Fido and Spot.
“Where are the gems?”
“Back where we left them!” Spot said.
“Right where we left them!” Rover spun back around to face Mr. T-Bone. “We’ll just go back and bring them right over!”
“Youse guys are dumb enough not ta pick up a sack of gems?” Rex asked rhetorically.
Rover, Fido, and spot whirled around to go fetch the bag, deciding it best not to answer.