Talon: Combat Tracking Team (A Breed Apart) (34 page)

Cardinal scowled at the man with an extra jowl. “Burnett, if this means what I think it means—”

“We don’t know what it means, so I’m going to start digging. You get out there and find that girl.”

God have mercy on her
. Because if this trail was leading where he thought it might, Aspen Courtland could already be dead.

    Twenty-Three    

S
itting in the shade of the building, the warmed cement and plaster against her back, Aspen smoothed a hand along Talon’s ribs. Lying on his side did little to ease the heat discomfort. But at least they had shade and water, thanks to the generosity of the orphanage director.

She’d never been a good liar or pretender, so she’d just gone with a narrow version of the truth: she was waiting here to meet someone. That had been good enough for the director, who said he’d gladly welcome visitors, especially those who would give something to the children, whether laughter or treats.

A guilty knot tied in Aspen’s stomach. She had nothing for the children. Muslims viewed dogs as unclean, so most of the adults were appalled that Aspen had brought Talon. The children, however, could not be dissuaded.

In fact, there had been peals of delight and laughter throughout the morning as she demonstrated some of Talon’s simpler skills.

Back at Lemonnier she’d spotted Rankin gearing up, and intentionally plying on his guilt over Austin’s death/disappearance, she convinced him to give her a lift into the city. She’d said she was going to the orphanage and let him assume what he wanted. He agreed to pick her back up on their return route. Two more hours.

Aspen blew the curls off her forehead. With an exhausted groan, Talon stretched then went limp as he drifted off to sleep. Though Aspen would love nothing more than to catch a few
Zs
, she couldn’t risk missing whoever had sent the note.

A shadow slid out and touched her, drawing her gaze to the doorway. “You want eat?” Director Siddiqi asked.

Talon pulled off the ground, ears and attention perked. He let out a whimper, and his tail thumped twice. Peculiar. Had he understood the word
eat
, or was it something more? But here, Aspen knew the orphanage struggled to feed the dozens of boys. She’d seen the kitchen and the grill donated by the servicemen and women at Lemonnier. In a world where your next meal wasn’t guaranteed, she wouldn’t dare take from the mouths of children.

“No, thank you.” She’d brought her pack with Talon’s food and hers, knowing that anything could incapacitate Talon, and that meant he wouldn’t be at the top of his game to track.

“You friend not come?”

She swatted away a fly and the discouragement that lingered over the contact not showing up. “Not yet.” She squinted over the empty play yard, eyeing the cars that sped by. Surely whoever had gone through the trouble of getting her off the base wouldn’t just leave her here. “Soon, though.”

He smiled and nodded. “Soon.” Director Siddiqi turned and let the building swallow him.

Had the note instructed her to meet somewhere less safe, less open and public, she wouldn’t have risked everything—including Dane’s anger and disapproval. She’d had several hours to attach a meaning to what he’d said:
“Don’t trust me.”
Though part of her railed at those instructions, a deeper part of her couldn’t let go of one thought: her trust terrified Dane. Aspen shook her head as she pulled out a few treats.

Talon’s ears and head perked up, and he cast those soulful eyes at her as he pushed himself into an attentive “sit” position.

“Focus,” she gave the command that instructed him to look into her eyes, a confidence builder, the dog trainer had said.

His gaze bounced from the treat to her eyes almost instantly.

“Yes! Good boy.” She gave him the treat and smoothed a hand over the top of his head. Now how was it he could do one-on-one moments so well, but add noise and he was a puddle of panic? Like with the children. Oh man, she’d gotten so worried. He’d started shrinking and looking for a place to hide as the children shrieked and squealed, running around the playground.

“We should’ve stayed in Texas.” She rustled his fur, gave him another treat, then leaned against his thick shoulder. “And I shouldn’t have rushed you back into working, but I am glad you’re here.” It almost felt like she had a piece of Austin with her. And a very good friend. “I wouldn’t want to be here without you, Talon.”

At his name, he flicked his gaze to hers and swiped his tongue along her cheek.

Aspen laughed and turned away to avoid a slobber-fest. As he nudged her hand, she noticed his nose wasn’t quite the shiny black it should be. She pushed to her feet. “C’mon, boy. Let’s get some water.”

She led him into the building and made her way to the kitchen. There, she filled a water bottle, dropped in two tablets, tightened the lid back on, then shook it. Using his collapsible bowl, she dumped in the contents and let Talon lap it up.

Voices skated through the hall outside the kitchen. Stern, quick words. Probably one of the teen boys getting chewed out again. She’d seen it a few times, only because the boys were pushing their boundaries as expected. Lord knows, Austin did it enough back home. Mom and Dad were at their wit’s end, then Austin up and asked them to sign for an early entry into the Marines. Dad was relieved, Mom terrified—
“There’s a war going on. They’ll ship out.”

Ironically, it wasn’t Austin who died a few months later. It was Mom and Dad.

Talon consumed the water in what felt like two heartbeats. She opted not to give him more because they might be stuck here for a while. Especially if the mystery guest didn’t show.

Call of nature came. She stood, dried out the bowl, then folded it and stuffed it back on her pack. Since she couldn’t very well tie Talon off to a tree—there weren’t any—she led him down the hall to the bathroom. A cozy little closet of a thing that stunk to high heaven. Aspen made quick work of relieving herself then used her own sanitizer to clean her hands as she made her way out of the bathroom.

Shouts stopped her. They were still arguing? Gran would’ve said to take a switch to his backside. Nowadays, if you did that, someone would call it abuse.

But then…something about the argument piqued her curiosity. She ambled down the hall, back toward the kitchen.

“This has nothing to do with you, Nazir.”

“But this my orphanage. Bad things happen here, they close doors. Where boys go?”

Bad things happen? What bad things? What was the director talking about? Was this man threatening him?

“Not my problem, old man. She has the dog with her?”

In the space of two heartbeats, Aspen’s world upended.
He’s asking about me! And Talon!
She took a step back.

Talon whimpered.

Aspen flinched and tensed. He must be reading her body language, smelling her fear. She lowered her hand and rubbed his ears, trying to reassure him—and her. This couldn’t be what she thought it was.

“Yes.” The answer had been so quiet…so resigned…

“Good.” A laugh sounded. “Say, anyone here know how to make dog stew?”

Hand over her mouth, Aspen backstepped. Talon stayed with her. She spun and hurried down the hall. Out the door.

“There! Stop her!”

“If you go out there,” Candyman stated, sounding perturbed, “and they kill you? Don’t blame me, man.”

“If they kill me, I doubt I’ll be able to blame anyone.” Cardinal grinned. Waited for the point to sink in.

“Hey, this isn’t a joke. You’re talking about exposing yourself, possibly getting peppered full of holes.”

“I’d prefer to skip the peppered full of holes, but yes, I will be exposed.” In more ways than one. Going after Aspen compromised every Cardinal rule that existed. But he’d already lost one Courtland. He wasn’t about to lose another.

Timbrel fumed. “I should be going with you.”

“What you should be doing,” he said as he slid a black skull cap over his head, “is going over every log and surveillance video with Candyman. Find out who gave her that envelope. Find out what it said. Find out where Rankin went and why.”

Watters entered the room and locked it behind himself. The way he lingered there, staring at the knob, then the floor, set off a dozen alarms in Cardinal’s mind.

“What’s on your mind?” Cardinal asked.

They shared a long look, one that told him Watters was surprised he’d been read that easily, but then the next, more lingering message became one of camaraderie. “It makes no sense.”

“What’s that?” Cardinal stilled, watching the captain. A man he’d grown to trust. A man whose instincts were crazy accurate.

Watters hiked up a leg and slumped against the table around which the rest of ODA452 had gathered. “Base is locked down due to a supposed ambush, right?”

Cardinal gave a slow nod as he continued gearing up.

“We can’t find out who got ambushed.” Watters held up a finger. “There’s one team out right now—Rankin’s team. On a supply run through the city. There’s been no activity that Burnett or his people can find. No radio chatter for help, backup, nothin’.”

Very interesting. “That non-chatter chats a lot, doesn’t it?” He smirked.

“Something’s going on.”