Animal Whisperer: Take Back My Life and Love Chapter 484: The Squirrel Chain

"Squirrel team, your objective is the door. The sparrow reported a loose drainage grate at the southeast corner of the garage. It is large enough for you to pass through. Once inside, cross the utility room connecting the garage to the main house. You will reach the living room. Unlock the side door leading to the backyard from the inside. Remember, stay quiet and move fast. Go."

As the order went out, several furry shadows darted into the night.

The sparrow led two elite scouting groups, slipping skillfully into the crevices of the building. On the other side, the opening task force, comprised of the three most agile and robust squirrels sprinted along the base of the wall to the corner of the garage. The lead squirrel used its claws to pry open the grate they had already loosened in secret. One by one, they vanished into the darkness of the pipes.

Inside the command van, everyone stared at the thermal imaging screens. They watched as the faint heat signatures of the small animals moved rapidly through the structure, passing the garage, slipping through the utility room, and finally arriving at the living room door.

Through the satellite cameras mounted on their gear, the team could see the critical side door. It opened inward, secured by a heavy metal lever handle. For a human, it was effortless. For a squirrel, it was an immense weight.

The first squirrel leaped up, attempting to use its body weight to pull the lever down. The handle did not budge. It slid down and flicked its bushy tail frantically at the camera, its bright black eyes signaling the failure: it was too heavy.

Nancy’s low voice came through their mini earpieces, steady and encouraging. "If one is not enough, work together. Remember how you harvest pinecones from the high branches?"

The squirrels’ ears perked up instantly.

The lead squirrel stood on its hind legs, leaped upward, and gripped the cold metal handle tightly with its front paws, hanging in mid air. The handle sank just a fraction, but it was not enough. Without hesitation, the second squirrel sprang up. It did not go for the handle, instead grabbing the first squirrel around the waist. The added weight pulled the lever down further. The third squirrel followed suit, leaping up and latching onto the second.

Three furry little creatures hung from the door handle in a swinging squirrel chain.

With their combined weight and a synchronized, rhythmic kick of their legs, the heavy mechanical lock finally gave a soft click. The bottom squirrel gave the wall a powerful shove with its hind legs, and the entire chain swung downward with the momentum.

The lock turned.

A faint creak echoed through the silent living room. The door was open.

In the command van, nearly everyone pumped their fists simultaneously. The SWAT captain growled into his headset, "Furry team objective complete! The door is open! All units, strike!"

As the rushed, muffled footsteps approached from outside, the three squirrels let go in perfect unison. They landed lightly on the floor and vanished under the nearest sofa, leaving only their bright, excited eyes to watch the unfolding scene.

Fully armed SWAT officers poured in like a silent black tide.

At that moment, Kurt was leaning back in his leather chair in the study, his phone pressed to his ear with a greedy smile. On the other end, the collector was showering him with praise for his artistic vision and the value of his collection, confirming the staggering nine figure offer.

"Rest assured, once the funds are in place, those crown jewels of my collection..."

Kurt never finished the sentence.

A faint click sounded.

The sound of a door latch popping open was faint, but unmistakable in the dead silence. it came from the living room behind him. The smile froze on Kurt's face. A line of dread raced up his spine. He instinctively turned his head.

The doorway of his study had become a scene from a nightmare.

Appearing like ghosts were several SWAT officers in black tactical gear and helmets. They breached with professional precision, taking positions and securing every angle with sharp, silent movements. Several black muzzles, caught in the faint glow of tactical flashlights, pointed steadily at his vitals.

But what made his blood truly turn to ice was the single red laser dot from a sniper's rifle, sitting perfectly still, right in the center of his forehead.

Kurt was completely stunned. His mind went blank.