AJ's Army filed out and climbed in the back of the Deuce. Rocco drove, Karl went shotgun and Al sat between them. I stepped to the back with the troops.
The night had a chill and riding 55 miles an hour added to the cold. No one complained and no one talked. A certain tension existed to the trip that brought a bunch of people together who didn't know one another and didn't really have much in common. That is, except they liked me enough to do this, and they were crazy as shit for offering their services. The thirtyminute ride seemed a lot longer. A mile outside the puppy mill, Rocco pulled over to the side of the road so we could mount a battle plan. Rocco looked at me to address the army and I shook my head and nodded to Karl. This was his show and his chance to exorcise whatever demons haunted him. I thought it might be nice if he didn't get killed, or get the rest of us killed in the process.
"All right everybody listen up," Karl said his voice deep, his tone confident. It wasn't hard to picture him as an exemplary soldier. "This is what we know. A. The bastards who live here are right-wing whack jobs and we don't know what they are capable of. B. They're mistreating dogs, including a pregnant dog we've identified as Al's mom." Karl paused and looked at everyone.
"And C." His voice deepened and he turned the volume up a notch. "Their operation is fuckin' history the second we bust through that fuckin' gate!" Karl yelled it at the top of his lungs and Rocco floored the Deuce.
Rocco had her up around seventy as we bombed down Route 85. The puppy mill came into view about a hundred yards down the road. Rocco yelled, "Hang on tight, men!" The Deuce hit the gate, blasting it wide open. Sparks from the metal-to-metal violence flew and the gate splintered into a dozen pieces. The Deuce swerved, bounced, and for a second felt like it was going to roll over, but Rocco, like Lee Marvin on steroids, righted it and yelled "Yahoo! You Motherfuckers!" Lights went on all over the compound and alarm sirens went off. Rocco didn't slow down and headed down the dirt road towards the kennels. When he got within fifty yards he slowed the Deuce down so everyone could jump out.
"Free the POWs," Karl yelled referring to the basset hounds.
The AJ's Army jumped out of the back of the Deuce and ran into the kennels. The hounds heard the noise and went nuts. A cacophony of barking, howling, and baying filled the night as the gang ran in.
Jerry Number One and TC were the first out, each carrying a couple of old hounds. Next came Vinci and Billy followed by the three gang-bangers all holding bassets. What a great sight. Billy and Timo each had a fat lemon and yellow basset in their arms, running toward the Deuce, and Jamal made a face trying not to inhale as his POW relieved himself. Mary Jo told a little guy to hush up and he would be all right, and Dr. Pac was tried to get an unruly barker into the back of the Deuce. I heard Karl yell out for me. I ran to the back of the barn. He stood there with Al, who paced back and forth and wagged his tail.
"Duffy!"
I got back there as fast as I could and noticed what had caused the panic in his voice. Gladys moaned in pain and breathed hard. A little foam oozed out her mouth.
"She's in trouble, Duff. She needs help bad," Karl said. He wrapped her in a tattered blanket he found in her pen and lifted her as gently as he could. "We gotta get her to a vet ASAP." Ahead of us in the barn, there a flurry of activity continued as the gang rounded up the rest of the hounds. Karl walked with Gladys as gingerly as he could. Only a handful of hounds remained and the gang-bangers rounded them up.
"Damn these mutherfuckin' bitches smell!" I heard one say to the other. I didn't think he meant it literally. I could hear the Deuce's engine. We came out with Gladys to load her in the front seat. We loaded Gladys into the front seat when I heard Billy Cramer say, "Hey Duff, looks like we got some company."
Down from the hill came about twenty men, some skinhead types, others military types, heading right for the Deuce. They didn't look happy.
"Hey Karl," I yelled, "I thought you said about 10 guys worked here."
Karl looked at the men running toward us.
"I was wrong," he said.