PAW Patrol: Lockdown

Chapter 3- Apprehended

Locked in the back of the military van, Chase was dragged into a small holding kennel. The next few minutes were not something he'd ever want to live again. His uniform was stripped away, then sprayed with multiple kinds of mist. He either sneezed, coughed, or shook his head as he was bludgeoned with tests. At that moment, Chase wished he could melt into the floor, he had never felt so powerless in his entire life. Every moment he could, he backed up into the corner of the kennel, making every attempt possible to shield himself.

"We got the readings back on his uniform," a trooper noted through his mask, tall brown ears coming through his helmet, "no cross-contamination,"

"Well that's one good thing," muttered another, a shorter trooper with black flopping ears, "initiate bio scan,"

Chase had a hundred questions, but fear had sealed his muzzle. His tail was curled underneath him, like letting it out for even a moment would get it chomped off. A beeping noise suddenly came from above, and Chase looked upward to see a small device on the top of the kennel. A fine, grid-shaped laser was suddenly emitted, passing through Chase forward and backward. The puppy's breathing had not yet slowed, and every new instrument activated made him feel even closer to wetting the floor.

The two troopers read some data on the tablet, then quickly collected their things and jumped out of the van, leaving Chase alone. He stayed cowering in the corner, waiting several minutes before finally lifting his ears again. With one brown paw in front of the other, the puppy crept to the iron gate of the cage and peeked out, careful to make little to no noise.

The walls of the van were lined with dark metal plating, each with shelves and racks for various things. A footlocker compartment was in view just across from him, locked tightly with various bolts. The shelves carried spare helmets, a worn set of gloves, and discarded equipment Chase couldn't place the meaning of. His eyes soon fell to his blue pup-pack, thrown to the side of the van. His mind raced, as options and ideas shot in and out. All of the gadgets on the pack were bark-activated. All he had to do was say the equipment name and finish with a bark. Could he break himself out? Was that an option? His question was answered as he caught sight of a gun rack just two feet from his pup-pack. Four idle assault rifles rested on its hinges, seemingly venting themselves from shedding blood and deafening violence. Chase gulped and decided he'd stay put for now.

The door of the van suddenly opened again, causing Chase to scamper back to his safety corner. He could hear a dog march in, placing one foot after another and lifting its powerful body into the vehicle. The doors were shut behind it, and the puppy's heart skipped a beat as the dog casually walked to the steel bars and looked through. Their eyes were cold and stone, with a hard face riddled with scars. They were brown and black in color, and seemed to be another German Shepherd.

"Chase, right?" the dog asked, "Paw Patrol division?"

"Yes, sir," the puppy breathed as if fear was blocking his voice itself,

"You passed the scan, and so did your friend,"

"Is that a good thing?" Chase gently picked his head up,

"It's the only good thing," the dog growled, "good because it means I don't have to kill a puppy today,"

Chase retracted his head and slunk back farther.

"My name is Cyrus," the dog said, "Captain Cyrus. Now tell me what you two were doing here, now."

Chase took a second to gather his bearings, tapping a foot on the ground. He had been brave before in the face of danger, but this was something else. Cyrus was a whole new level of intimidation, his very presence suppressed any action Chase could have taken to stand up for himself.