The central park of the city had always been a quiet place: elderly people feeding pigeons, children running around with melted ice creams, and people doing yoga in positions that defy logic. But that Saturday afternoon, it turned into an improvised battlefield.
Alex was running at full speed, with his backpack bouncing and his face distorted by determination and exhaustion. In front of him, Max, his dog, was moving as if he had an invisible jetpack attached to his hind legs. Around them, Carlos and Marta were doing their best to keep up, although they were clearly more prepared for a marathon of series than for a real chase.
— MAX! COME BACK HERE! — shouted Alex, his voice already halfway between a shriek and a cry.
— That dog has turbo, man! — panted Carlos, who had already taken off his Pikachu cap and was using it to fan his sweaty face.
— Don't let him get into the lake! — said Marta, pointing in horror at how Max was heading straight for the park fountain, where several ducks were watching the chaos with suspicion.
But Max had another plan. Instead of splashing with the birds, he made a sharp turn and darted into some bushes, crossing into an area with more trees and fewer humans. Alex followed right behind without thinking, closely followed by his friends.
It was then that they saw him: the guy from the warehouse, the same mysterious man who had confronted them the day before, was right there, standing next to a hot dog cart, chewing something with an indifferent expression. He was dressed in a long coat, dark glasses, and a beret that did not match the heat. Upon seeing the group, he frowned.
— They are following us — whispered Carlos.
— They are spying on us — added Marta.
— They want to steal our hot dogs — Alex added, who hadn't had lunch.
But the man did not move. He just wiped his hands with a napkin, threw his wrapper into the trash with admirable aim, and then walked slowly to a nearby bench. His indifference was more disturbing than any chase.
— And now what? — asked Marta, looking at Max, who was now sniffing suspiciously at a fat, furry squirrel that looked more like a cat in disguise.
Alex stepped forward, determined. — We are going to talk to him. I have the right to know who the hell he is and what he wants with my dog.
— What if he is a secret agent? — asked Carlos.
— What if he is the villain? — added Marta.
— What if he is both? — said Alex, adjusting his backpack dramatically.
He walked towards the man, who was now flipping through a gardening magazine as if it were the most exciting thing of the day.
— Hello — said Alex, with a voice firmer than he expected —. We need answers.
The man looked up. His dark glasses reflected the sun and made him look like a final boss from a video game.
— Answers about what, boy?
— About this — Alex pulled out the strange collar that Max had brought from the warehouse —. What is this? Why does it seem like they are looking for it? And why are there people following us?
The man sighed, lowered the magazine, and said in a grave voice: — It is not just a simple collar. It is an access key to a secret chamber that holds something... very valuable.
The three friends looked at each other.
— A secret chamber? — asked Carlos.
— Something valuable like what? Jewelry? Gold? Physical Bitcoin? — added Marta.
— None of that — the man stood up —. It is information. Blueprints. Files. Something that should not be in the wrong hands.
— And why was it in a pet store? — Alex blurted out.
The man hesitated for a moment.
— Eh... logistical error. Silence. A squirrel ran by, screeching as if it understood the gravity of the situation.
— I need that collar — said the man, extending his hand —. Delivering it now will save you a lot of trouble.
But Alex put it back in his pocket.
— I'm sorry, Mr. villain agent or whatever. I don't trust you.
The man clenched his jaw. And then, the inevitable happened: from among the bushes, two figures emerged in black suits, dark glasses, and headsets. They looked like they were straight out of a spy movie, and they pointed weapons... made of paintball.
— Hand over the collar! — shouted one.
— This is not a drill! — added the other, although shooting paint didn't seem very lethal.
Max, seeing that the situation was getting tense, did the only thing he knew how to do in moments like this: bark, spin around, and run away again.
And so began a second chase, this time with more shouting, more paint flying through the air, and at least one small child who ended up crying because his cotton candy got stained.
Alex ran after Max.
Carlos ran after Alex.
Marta ran after Carlos.
And the agents ran after all of them, while the mysterious man sat back down on the bench, sighing with resignation.
— The youth of today... — he murmured, returning to his magazine.
Meanwhile, Max ran with the collar still hanging from his neck, as if he knew it was the key to something bigger. He crossed the park, dodged a couple having a picnic, jumped over a bike without brakes, and ended up in the fountain.
SPLASH!
The Dog, Proud of His Feat
The dog, proud of his feat, stayed still in the middle of the water, with his tongue out and the happiest expression in the world.
Alex arrived behind, slipped, and ended up submerged up to his knees.
— Max... — he said, soaked and frustrated —. What are we going to do with you?
Max barked once, turned around, and splashed him again.