scanning the deck. Then a shine caught her eyes. Aleu swam over the deck and grabed at the shine threw the muck. Out of the slime covering the deck came a gold navy pocket watch. Aleu smiled.

“Yes! I found one.” She cheered as she came on the memorial. She jumped for joy. As she landed a shot rang out from the memorial. Before she new what had happened, Aleu was shot on the back. She crumpled to the stone floor of the memorial. The pocket watch sliding out of her paw. A wolf holding a pistil stepped out of the shadows. He was a brown timber wolf, around age 32 to 39. A smile arched over his mouth. “Well what do you know. Angel was wrong. Aleu would try and find it.” He bent down and picked up the watch. “Thank you Miss Aleu. I will be shire to tell Angel that you sead hello.” Aleu moaned and opened one eye. “Angel? You! You’re the ass hole who kidnapped Angel.” She rose to her paws and looked to the wolf and growled. “I want her back!” her teeth bore. The wolf just smiled and said. “Sorry but Angel is bit tied up at this moment.” He shot Aleu in the neck. “And so are you.” he laughed. He then dragged her body over to the side and dumped her into the wreck below. He then pulled out a Time Warper 2000. A cheap knock off version at that, and disappeared threw time.

Steamship Memorial Museum. Duluth Georgia.

Jenna hung up the phone. “ Who was it?” Ginger asked. “It was Wikkeke hospital. They say they found Aleu’s body floating in the Harbor. She is alive but under critical care.”

Ginger gasped. “These men must be dangerous.” She said. “I hope that Balto and Brent have figured that out.”

She was right.

London 1895

“Found it!” Brent sead pulling out an old dusty file. Balto looked up from his armchair. “All right” Balto barked. Brent looked threw it. “It says that the configuration pirates are a terrorist group. They are known treasure thieves and murders. They are lead by a timber wolf named Harry wheeler. He is suspect on meny police reports but from my own files it says that he has never actually been caught, but he is believed to be the main perpetrator in meny criminal acts including the kidnapping case of Kelly Morgan in 1857!” Balto shook his head. “Now he has kidnapped Angel.” “Or worse” continued Brent. “It says he is a master at using ponds. He doesn’t just go after you…he goes after your friends and family.” Balto’s face dropped. “He could go after Aleu, or Jenna or Ginger or even Tramp.” Brent frowned. “He is using Angel as a pond to get these artifacts.” Balto pounded the desk. “Well he has to get threw us first.” Just then the mail slat on the door opened and a note dropped threw.

Dear Balto and Brent

Well done. You know what time frame our headquarters are. But we already have one artifact. You will never find us in time. Angel will pay.

P.S. Tell Tramp, Angel says hi.

Balto growled. “We have to find that basterd.

Brent nodded.

‘’I agree Balto,’’ he replied, ‘’but their headquarters could be anywhere.’’

Balto held his chin. Suddenly, something came to him.

‘’Brent, do you have a photo of Mr. Wheeler?’’

Brent checked his archives and sure enough he had one.

‘’Yeah, he’s his ugly mug,’’ Brent remarked, ‘’I can’t understand why you want a picture of him.’’

Balto grabbed Brent’s magnifying glass and examined the photo. He smiled.

‘’Disco,’’ he said, ‘’check out what he’s standing in front of.’’

Brent peered over Balto’s shoulder and gasped.

‘’The pub I was ambushed at,’’ he said in shock, ‘’no wonder those guys stopped me there. I was so close.’’

Balto smiled and patted Brent on the back.

‘’At least the girls have it easy back in 2006, right?’’

Little did he know.

The museum, 2:45 AM,

Jenna and Ginger stayed another night inside the museum. Jenna was fast asleep, but Ginger was barely able to catch a wink. She kept thinking about her boyfriend and how he was over a century in the past. Just as she was about to drift off, Ginger heard something breaking. She sat up and listened. Some where in the museum, she could hear voices. The sounded like they were arguing.

‘’You dumb ass,’’ one whispered, ‘’that was a priceless piece of china from the Andrea Doria. You realize what it’s worth?’’

‘‘Shit,’’ the other answered smugly, ‘’it’s worth shit.’’

“No duh,’’ the first voice retorted, ‘’that’s cuz you broke it. Remember what the boss said; if we don’t return with those artifacts, he’ll skin us and use us as cheap throw rugs!’’

‘’Shuddup,’’ the second voice hissed, ‘’you want someone to hear us?’’

The two then headed toward the safe room. Ginger pretended to be asleep when the two arrived. The first voice belonged to a small and thin wolf, possibly the Omega wolf of the gang. The other was a meatier wolf that was around the Gamma-Beta area (a bit under the Alpha). They searched and found the safes. The Beta wolf walked up and crouched before the first safe, placing his ear on the cold metal door. He turned the dial and heard a click. Ginger knew this was her moment to shine. Standing up, Ginger tapped the safe cracker on the shoulder. He turned. Ginger spun around and knocked the wolf flying with her hind paw. The Beta wolf slid across the floor and smashed against the wall. He stood up and ran at Ginger, who side-steeped. The wolf stopped and swung a right hook at Ginger’s head. She ducked and tripped her assailant. He fell face-first to the ground. He stood up against, but this time he was a bit groggy. Ginger slimed and got into a ready position. She slid her hind paw across the floor and charged the wolf, who only had enough time to blink. Ginger jumped slightly into the air, planted her foot onto the ground and flipped into the air. Landing on her paw, Ginger locked her legs around the wolf’s neck. Taking a deep breath, she curled up into a ball, sending the wolf headfirst into the ground. His skull was forced backward into his spine, which shattered. Ginger released her grip, and the wolf’s limp body fell into a heap on the floor. The Omega wolf coward and ran out of the museum. Ginger turned back to Jenna, who was still asleep.

‘’She can sleep through anything.’’ She thought and went back to sleep.

Baker Street, 1895, 10:52 PM,

Balto walked down the street. As he rounded the corner he could see the pub at one end. The sign read: Hannibal Hayes pub. Balto took a deep breath and looked at the river across the street. On the river stood a tugboat named the Pueblo. Inside the small cabin/wheelhouse, Brent watched Balto with a pair of binoculars. In his paws he held a voice dish. A small listening device that allowed Brent to monitor Balto’s conversations as well as anyone that came blundering by. Balto looked at the boat. Brent grabed the whistle cord and gave one toot. That was the signal. Balto walked into the pub.

The pub was dirty and smoky and smelled of cigarette butts. Dogs lined the bar and tables. Balto sat at one barstool and took a deep breath. “Can I get ye somten?” A Bulldog behind the counter asked. “Yes a coke please.” The bulldog laughed. “What the hell is a coke.” Aboard the Pueblo Brent groaned “Balto, coke won’t be invented for another five years.” Back in the pub Balto brushed off the bulldog’s laughter and ordered some whisky. As he started on his shot another two dogs walked in. One was a Dalmatian, the other was a Cocker spaniel. The Dalmatian sat next to Balto on his left side and the Cocker spaniel to the right. “Drinks for everybody, on me.” The Dalmatian yipped. The whole bar erupted into cheers. “Wow you must be happy.” Balto sead. “Well now its time to celebrate.” The Dalmatian laughed. “My name is William Dickey, and boy am I gonna settle tonight.” Balto shook his head in disbelief. The Dalmatian leaned closer. “You see, me boss Mr. Wheeler has just received over five thousand dollars. As such he is giving raises to all his main employees.” Balto looked astounded. “And you’re one of his employees?” “Nah, One of his men, a black wolf bought himself a ticket aboard the White Star liner Baltic. I swiped his ticket. And Old Harry ant gonna do a thing because by tomorrow night I’ll be in New York. Old Wheeler will be pretty pissed I would hate to be on his bad side.” Balto gulped. “Poor Angel.” He whispered to himself.

Meanwhile Brent was outside listening to everything. As he pout his voice dish down he saw two white wolves walking down the street. He then raised his dish and listened in. The older one, A male was talking to a young one, His daughter. “Papa, will we be able to go to America?” The young pup asked. Her father looked lovingly down at her. “You will. I won’t I spent all of the money that Mr. Wheeler loaned us on one ticket for you.” “But Papa