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“Why didn’t you say so? Rescue mission? Sign me up!” Maybe she’d get one of those little barrels to wear around her neck—she’d seen Television dogs wearing those on lots of rescue missions. Of course it would have to be a small one, but Butterbean didn’t mind.

Walt patted Butterbean on the back.“Good. Oscar, you’ll need to get these coins back in the bag.”

Oscar nodded and hurried back into the office.

Walt sat down.“Now, Butterbean, what we’re planning is a three-pronged attack. Part one, Operation Distract. Part two, Operation Divide and Conquer. And part three, Operation Outside Authorities. Got it?”

“Got it.” Butterbean hoped she would be part of Operation Distract. Distracting was her specialty. She wasn’t so great at division.

“You’re Operation Distract, with me,” Walt said. Butterbean gave a small cheer. Walt ignored it. “Oscar, are the coins ready?”

“Done,” Oscar called back from the office, one foot on the coin bag.

“Good. Chad’s in place, so if you could just fly them up, we’ll be set. Wallace, Marco, ready for vent duty?”

“Ready!” Marco fist-bumped Wallace (who wasn’t quite ready) and raced into the vents. He was feeling much more optimistic now that he knew that Polo was alive.

“Wait, what? Me?” Wallace looked around nervously. He hadn’t realized he was part of the plan. He was thinking of himself as more of an interested bystander.

“Wallace, COME ON!” Marco yelled impatiently, his voice echoing in the vent.

“Oop. Okay. I mean… okay.” Wallace scurried toward the vent after Marco.

“Um, Walt?” Oscar’s voice came from overhead. “Potential problem here.”

Oscar had the bag in his claws and was hovering in the air. He wasn’t going anywhere, just hovering. “I’m having some trouble getting airborne,” he said. “I can’t seem to gain altitude.”

Walt’s eyes widened. Oscar was approximately three feet off the floor, which was not going to cut it. Not when they needed to go to an apartment on the ninth floor. “Well, you’re going to need to gain five stories of altitude. Fast. Or the plan won’t work.”

“Yes, I do realize that,” Oscar said, flapping his wings energetically. He still didn’t move.

“Um, about that,” he said finally. “I don’t see myself gaining five stories of altitude.”

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“But you did it before!” Walt couldn’t believe Oscar was being so difficult. What was five stories to a bird? Five stories was nothing!

Oscar gave a sad smile.“Yes, that’s true. But before I was going down. Down isn’t a problem. Up is.” He flapped even more enthusiastically and rose another six inches off the floor.

“I volunteer!” Butterbean barked suddenly. “I’ll do it! Oh, please let me. I just have to take it upstairs, right? It’ll be fine! I can do it!”

Walt and Oscar both looked at Butterbean doubtfully.

“There’s no rule that it has to go in the window, right? We just need to get the bag up there?”

“Oscar?” Walt said.

“I think that would be best,” Oscar said, sinking to the floor. “I’ll stay here and watch the surveillance cameras. You’ll need to know if the Coin Man comes back.”

“That’s actually a better idea,” Walt said grudgingly. “We do need to know that. Okay, ready, Bean?”

“YAY!” Butterbean cheered, jumping up and dragging the bag away from Oscar.

“Keep cool, Bean,” Walt said, going to the door and pushing the handle down. “Let us know the minute he comes back,” she called to Oscar over her shoulder.

“Will do,” he said, walking slowly to the remote. He really did have a bad back.

Butterbean was already halfway down the hallway when Walt slipped out of the door. Butterbean jumped up and hit the elevator button.

“Hope it’s empty!” She hopped nervously from one foot to another while she waited. “Man, I hope the Coin Man isn’t in it when it opens. That would be the worst!”

“Don’t be silly,” Walt said, but she felt just as anxious. So many things could go wrong. She hadn’t had time to think though all the possible problems. Anything could happen.

The elevator binged, and Walt held her breath. The doors opened.

It wasn’t empty. Mrs. Power Walker was there, marching in place.

Butterbean didn’t hesitate. She dragged the bag into the elevator and sat down next to Mrs. Power Walker, wagging her tail and lolling her tongue out of the side of her mouth. Walt slipped in behind her.

Mrs. Power Walker looked down at Butterbean and smiled.“Oh, hello again. Eighth floor, right?” she said, pushing the button for Butterbean.

Butterbean wagged her tail harder. Eighth floor was not right, but she wasn’t going to say anything. She didn’t want to attract attention.

“Sixth floor,” the elevator voice said.

The doors opened. Bob the maintenance guy was standing in the hallway. He looked from Mrs. Power Walker to Butterbean to the bag. Then he looked at Walt. Walt shrugged.

“I’ll, uh, take the next one,” Bob said awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.

“Bye!” Mrs. Power Walker said cheerily, pushing the close door button.

“Bye.” Bob frowned at Butterbean and Walt. “Hey, wait a minute,” he said, narrowing his eyes as the doors closed.