“And while we’re at it, hopefully the vet can confirm who she belongs to,” Basia finished.
“Or, at the very least, where she escaped from,” I added quietly.
The mere idea of it, this sweet golden retriever who fetched plastic apples and made words on a makeshift alphabet board made of napkins being hurt or tortured, hit me like a punch to the stomach.
I crouched beside Ginger. “Hey,” I said gently. “We’re going to figure this out, okay? No one’s taking you anywhere you don’t want to go.” I didn’t know how I could keep that promise, particularly if she was truly the property of a lab, but I sensed deep down that I had to try.
Ginger pressed her nose against my hand. Warm. Trusting. Terrifyingly human.
“All right,” Gray said briskly. “Let’s decide on a plan and execute.”
I didn’t know if Gray was picking up habits and mannerisms from Hands, her Navy SEAL boyfriend, or whether the CIA analyst part of her was simply taking over, but I was glad she was keeping us on track.
“Gwen, get the address of the emergency vet pulled up,” Gray ordered.
“What are we going to tell the vet is wrong with Ginger?” I asked.
“We’ll just say we found her and she seems sluggish and sick,” Basia said. “We’ll also ask if she can get a name and address off the chip. That will give us the information we need to find out what company or government organization is behind this.”
“And since the emergency vet doesn’t take strays, we should be able to leave with her if we promise to return her to the owner,” Gwen added. “Even if we decide not to.”
All good points, but I had a bigger concern that we had to address before we went anywhere. “Guys, we can’t take Ginger anywhere until we figure out how, and if, we can block whatever signal she’s emitting that permitted that guy to track her here.”
Gray furrowed her brow. “I thought you said she couldn’t be chipped with a GPS because it required a battery pack and a satellite connection.”
“That’s before I met the spelling dog,” I said. “Who knows what technology this company has created or what kind of technology they’ve inserted her with? I still believe they must have followed us here, as that is the only explanation for knowing we were all ladies, but we can’t take any chances.”
Gwen sat on the couch and sighed. “So, what do we do? They could take her from us if they follow us to the vet and she’s legally chipped to them.”
I rubbed my forehead. If she had a chip, they might not be able to locate her in a building the size of a casino, but it could certainly localize her to somewhere as specific as a vet’s office. If so, they would still need a satellite signal to track her. At that point, it might be possible to block her chip while we transported her to the vet. But how?
“What are you thinking?” Gray asked me.
“The easiest way to block a GPS signal is to physically interfere with the signal,” I said musing aloud. “To do that, I’d have to create a Faraday cage.”
“Can you explain that to us like we’re kindergartners?” Gray asked. “Because we have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “A Faraday cage is a theoretical box or barrier that prevents electrical signals from communicating. In our case, I’m making a tricky assumption because, somehow, they seem to be capable of using a GPS signal to track her that doesn’t require an actual battery, unless it’s built into the chip. However, to the best of my knowledge, a GPS system still requires a satellite signal. If that holds true, all we would have to do is block that chip with an electrically conductive metal.”
“Where are going to get that?” Gwen asked.
“Pretty much anywhere,” I said, straightening. “Gray, check the kitchen area. See if there’s aluminum foil and plastic wrap in any of the drawers there.”
Gray leaped from the couch and started rummaging around in the kitchenette. After a moment, she gave a cry and held up a box of foil and then some plastic wrap. “Got them.”
“Excellent.” Finally, something was going our way. “Now, I just have to determine the best way to cover her, since I don’t where the chip might be.”
“Dogs are typically chipped in between their shoulder blades,” Basia offered, leaning over to examine the area on Ginger’s back. “There’s a little bit of a bump here, Lexi,” she said, waving me over. “Check it out. This might be it.”
I touched the location she indicated, noting where her finger rested on Ginger. “I do feel a bit of a bump,” I said. “I can’t be one hundred percent certain, but the probability is fairly decent that this is it.”
“So, what do we do now?” Gray asked.
I sighed. “We take a chance. We risk assuming this bump is the chip with the signal we need to block. So, my suggestion is for us to wrap several layers of foil around her neck and shoulder area where the bump is located and secure it in place with plastic wrap until we get to the vet. Once we remove the aluminum for the vet to read the chip, I estimate we’ll have anywhere from ten to twenty minutes before they could get there. But you do realize this is all speculation and hypothesis at this point, since I don’t actually know what technology we’re working with and have no idea where they might be located at this very moment. Baldy and his cronies could be in the lobby for all I know, so we have to be careful.”
The others nodded thoughtfully, considering my words. “We’ll pay the emergency vet in cash, using the cash I won, so we leave no trail there for them to follow.”
“We don’t have a lot of options here, so I’m in,” Gray said without missing a beat. Gwen and Basia quickly agreed.
