Talon: Combat Tracking Team (A Breed Apart) (29 page)

He stalked to the rear of the Jeep and reached for the handle.

“No!” Aspen leapt out of the vehicle. “Please, don’t open that. Talon might take it as an aggressive move.” She brushed a curl from her face. “Sorry. I just don’t want him to make strange or attack you.”

Cardinal sniffed. “Neither do I.” He stepped back and lifted his hands. “He’s all yours.”

“Nightingale, you have the all clear. ODA452, circle up.”

Cardinal strode toward the much-shorter villager, the man who must be the sultan by the way the others deferred and hung back—and ironically, the way the bodies of the villagers were angled toward him. “You are Sultan Souleiman?”

Wire-rimmed glasses framed a weathered, sun-darkened face. He stood a little straighter with the acknowledgment. “I am. You are Mr. Dane?”

“It is an honor.” Cardinal inclined his head to offer his submission to the man’s position within the community. When he looked up, the sultan’s eyes were wide and focused on something behind Cardinal. He glanced back.

Aspen. With Talon, who darted back and forth on the sixteen-foot lead, sniffing. Hauling in big, hard breaths through his nose. What had he hit on? He traced the path from the children—who squealed and jumped back but then burst into laughter when Talon nosed their legs—back toward Cardinal.

He shot a questioning look to Aspen, who shrugged.

A slew of Arabic flew from the sultan.

And that’s when it hit Cardinal.

He needed to bridge this gap now. “Sultan Souleiman, this is Lieutenant Courtland. The dog is a working dog named Talon.” Again, Cardinal inclined his head. “I hope his presence will not be offensive to you.”

“They are not clean.” He seemed aghast that they’d brought this animal into his village.

“Please, Sultan, do not be concerned. The dog will stay with his handler. Nobody should touch him. He’s trained to protect the woman with his lead.”
As am I
. Cardinal pointed to the village, away from Aspen. “Ready?”

With one last concerned glance to Aspen, or more specifically, Talon, Sultan Souleiman shifted around and headed toward a hut. It did not surprise Cardinal that the sultan of this village wasn’t even old enough to be his own father. With the median age of twenty-two, most males had a life expectancy of only sixty or sixty-five. And of the entire population in Djibouti, only 3 percent were of that age. Daunting and haunting to know you wouldn’t live long.

“Stay close,” Cardinal said to Aspen. As the words sailed out of his mouth, he stiffened, praying she didn’t take them wrong.

“She’s not a dog that obeys your commands,” Timbrel said.

“You’re right. She’s a smart woman who wants to stay alive.” He glanced back, so proud of her unwavering resolve and grit-determination. “Ready?”

Aspen gave a nod. “I think he has a hit, but on what, I have no idea.”

“Think it’s your brother?”

“Out here?” The question wasn’t one of information but one of confirmation. She’d thought the same thing and wanted him to confirm it.

“Keep your eyes out. You never know.”

“Roger.”

Already, the gaggle of children had crowded in around Aspen and Talon. She’d have her hands full keeping them away. Maybe he should offer…

“Talon, heel! Sit! Stay!”

The Lab trotted to her side, sat, and squinted up at her as if to say, “Yeah, okay, it’s hot out here and I can smell something, but you’re cute so I’ll sit.”

Cardinal felt a smirk tug up the side of his face. She’d read his mind. In that case, time to divert the sultan’s attention. “It’s so good of you to talk with me, Sultan.” He pointed to a shady spot beneath the only two trees he’d seen for miles. No doubt the reason the nomadic villagers had set down stakes here. “Perhaps we could sit here and talk?”

The sultan lifted his chin a little higher. “Good, good.”

As they walked, the sultan spoke of the poverty, of the search for jobs, of battling the refugees, and the effect not having rain had on the villagers. For a second, Cardinal worried about leaving Aspen alone. But when he glanced back and spotted the Lab with her—and Timbrel behind them—his fears were allayed. Talon would maul anyone who tried to hurt Aspen, and Timbrel would finish them off.

“He’s dehydrated.”

“I’ll grab the water.” Timbrel jogged off.

Whimpering, Talon panted and paced, his tail flicking, but Aspen kept a tight lead on him to keep him in the shade and from wearing himself out. “Talon, heel. Sit. Stay.”

He complied, his belly jiggling in and out rapidly beneath the frenetic panting. She glanced back to the vehicles. Timbrel and Candyman were digging through a bag, searching. He must’ve made some comment because Timbrel shoved him. He grabbed the edge of the vehicle to catch himself. She was sure a smile hid beneath that gnarly beard.

Whimpering tugged her attention back to her partner. She smoothed a hand over his coat. “Easy, boy.”

Talon had all the earmarks of dehydration or heat exhaustion. Jibril’s sister, Khaterah, had warned her to watch for it.

Still whimpering, Talon lowered himself to the ground and lay on his side. His panting was ramping up. She checked his gums and cringed. Losing pigmentation. “C’mon,” she called to Timbrel.

“Here, here.” Timmy dropped the bottles.

Once she uncapped the bottle, Aspen doused Talon with the water, coaxing the liquid into his dense fur. Dogs only sweat through their bellies and the pads of their feet, which was why in this heat, she had avoided using the protective paw covers, though with the raw pad of his right foot, she feared they might have to use them.

They tugged out a collapsible waterproof nylon bowl and filled it so Talon could lap up the water. “It’s okay, Talon. You’re going to be fine.” He fed off her emotions, so she worked to stay calm and confident—two things she wasn’t feeling right now. As he drank, she doused him again. “It’s too hot.”

“I’d turn down the heat, but it seems the man upstairs likes it hot here.” Candyman stood over them, his headgear, keffiyeh, and vest making him look forbidding. When he spoke she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or what. She’d seen him in Afghanistan and the guy had been as cool and at ease as if he were back home at a barbecue—just like today.

Aspen poured another bottle over Talon and noted, with pleasure, that his panting had grown a little more regular and had slowed. “I knew you’d reset, buddy.” She rubbed the spot between his eyes, and he slumped back, totally relaxed.

“Here they come,” Candyman said.

Aspen swiped the sweat from her forehead as she looked toward the huts.

A group emerged with the sultan explaining something to Dane. The two had talked for more than thirty minutes beneath the shade of these trees. With one leg drawn close and the other hooked, Dane had seemed so at home. Was there anywhere he didn’t manage to fit in? Fresh waves of respect and admiration sluiced through her. And, of course, the younger, unmarried women—at least she hoped they were unmarried, or maybe it would be better if they were married—trailed Dane like lovesick puppies.

His gaze slid across the open area and rammed right into hers. She felt it. All the way in the pit of her belly. She looked away and focused back on Talon, who stood on all fours now, as if to say, “Okay, I’m done with this heat stuff. Let’s get outta Dodge.”

Then he lifted his head and drew in a couple of big sniffs. More whimpering ensued. Talon trailed back and forth between the trees. Sniffing, whimpering, trotting. Blood blotted the sand.

She winced.

“Aspen, his paws.”

“Get the protective booties.”

Shouts and a loud bang exploded from somewhere.

Talon yelped and tore off.

Aspen held the lead, but it ripped out of her hands. “Talon, heel! Heel!”

He slowed, turned a circle, then scampered under the Jeep.

Disappointment and concern flooded Aspen. She trudged over to the truck, her head pounding from the stress of tending Talon and the unrelenting heat. Sweat streamed down her face and back as she went to her knees.

A soft touch on her arm. “You okay?” Dane asked.

“Yeah.” Who was she kidding? “No. I don’t know.” Did she sound as psychotic as she felt? She gave a soft snort and wiped her forehead again. “Talon’s been on edge for the last thirty minutes, whimpering. He got dehydrated, but I think it’s under control. But now he’s whimpering again, then that noise—” She stopped short. “What was it?”

“A couple of kids horsing around crashed into one of the metal walls.”

“Oh.” And the poor dog had lost his courage. So did she, knowing Talon still wasn’t ready. It broke her heart. Tugged at her. Like that mother standing with the sultan beneath the shade tree now, with an infant strapped to her breast with a scarf-like sling, and another in another sling dangling against her hip. She held tiny little fingers of an older child. Three children. All skin and bones. All looking hungry, sad. Just like Talon.

Just like me
.

Dane’s hand rested on her shoulder. “Aspen?”

The tears were coming. She could feel them. Pushed them back. “It’s all…wrong.” Her eyes burned.

“Hey.” Dane’s hand slid to her neck, and he nudged her chin up with his thumb. “Aspen.”

She shook her head, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Hey.” He waited for her this time, but as soon as she looked into the eyes of iron, the squirming tangled up her stomach again. “It’s good—good that you’re feeling this way. It means it’s changing you, that you won’t forget. The worst thing we can do is walk out of here and forget.”

She loved that he didn’t want to forget, that the world around them impacted him. But more than those concerns plied at her. “It’s not just that—Talon’s not ready. If he can’t even tolerate loud noises, how on earth can he find Austin? And the heat is getting to him, and he’s injured his paw, so he has to rest for days if not a week, and—”

“Whoa.”

She looked up at him and once again shook her head. “Why did I think I could do this? He was Austin’s partner. His superior. They were inseparable. What am I doing out here?”

“Getting answers.” Dane lowered his head and peered into her eyes. “Let’s get him out from under there and get back to Lemonnier. We’ll debrief.”

Yanked out of her emotional collapse, she widened her eyes. “What’d you find out?”

He smirked. “A few things.” He patted her shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s get Talon and move out.”

On her knees, she peered under the vehicle.

Talon sat beneath the Jeep, head up—as much as he could manage. He scooched forward on his belly and paws then dropped something at her feet.

Aspen gasped.

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