Trinity: Military War Dog (34 page)

The man’s chest heaved. “I can’t. I pass out, I—”

“Well … don’t. You know her. That dog knows her scent. That’s what I need. Not some whiny, complaining grunt.” Lance stomped to his feet. “You liked her, didn’t you, Daniels—Jia?”

Daniels swallowed, and Lance wanted to yank his Adam’s apple till the kid squawked into submission. Why couldn’t the punk see he had the one thing Darci needed—someone going after her who cared. Someone who
wanted
her safe.

“Her life is in your hands.”

Mouth open, Heath stared back at him.

“One more thing.” He indicated to Otte, who stood by the door in complete silence during this tête-à-tête, then slipped out without a word. “I’m partnering you with Zheng Haur and his first officer.”

This might be a mistake, but there were two lines of thinking here. One: Haur could be an asset. He had a vested interest in stopping Jianyu from sabotaging forward international progress between China and other countries, something for which General Zheng had been a vocal advocate.

Or two: He could be blowing a lot of smoke up their proverbial skirts. In which case, Lance wanted someone out there to protect Darci. Someone with a vested interest in Darci. Unfortunately, she cared about Daniels, too. What he hoped was that the two didn’t combine those feelings and come out wanting something more. Lance couldn’t lose an asset like Darci.

Heath glanced back, and when he didn’t show any surprise at the arrival of Colonel Zheng, the decision was cemented. He’d picked the right man for this mission.

“Daniels, meet your new partner, Zheng Haur, the informally adopted son of General Zheng.”

Daniels pulled to his feet.

“We have no reason not to trust him,” Lance said. “Except that he’s Chinese.”

The remark had its desired effect. Outrage rippled through Zheng’s expression but then faded to resignation.

Lance clapped a hand on Daniels’s shoulder. “Keep a close eye on him, son.” He squeezed the muscle. “If you can do this, I might be able to find a way to give you your career back.”

Heath went stiff. “Sir. I—”

“Just bring her home, Daniels.”

       Twenty-Four          

S
o close. So very close. Yet years and miles away. Being in Afghanistan, without the eyes of General Zheng peering over his shoulder, Haur’s fantasy swirled through his mind and took root.

No. It would be too risky. He could not.

They had separated him from his men save Captain Bai. Tactically, it was smart. But it also left a curtain in Haur’s hidden vault vulnerable. Behind it … He wasn’t even sure the door behind that curtain existed anymore.

It’d been so long. So very long.

“Promise me!”

The hissed, frantic words seared his memory.

With a thud and a gust of wind, a large pack dropped on the concrete in front of him. “Your gear. Courtesy of the U.S. Special Forces.”

Haur rose slowly, not wanting to appear confrontational. “Thank you.”

The man thrust a hand forward, the other resting on the stock of his M4A1. “You can call me Watterboy.” He twisted his upper body and pointed to the others. “That’s Candyman.” A man with a brown beard and sunglasses perched on his head touched two fingers to his forehead in a salute but kept working. “The others you’ll get to know. The guy with the dog, your partner, we call Ghost.”

“My captain, Bai, and I am Haur.”

“Did he say whore?”

“Hey!” The man in front of him scowled. “Keep it clean.” He smirked. “Think maybe we’ll just call you ‘Colonel,’ but don’t think for a second we’re under your authority.”

“We want the same thing,
Watterboy.”
They did not trust him with their names. He understood. Breaking down the barriers, discovering if these men could be of help to him …

Smiling, Watterboy backstepped. “Not so sure about that.”

“I want Jianyu returned to China.” Haur glanced around. “I know him best and can assure you that is, without a doubt, what you want.”

Watterboy spun, and as he did, he slowed as he passed the dog handler. The two exchanged a glance that spoke of bad blood. Perhaps it would be useful should Haur need to create division among this team.

A blue glow drew his gaze to the side.

Candyman pecked on a military-grade laptop with its virtually indestructible case. A curiosity itched at the tips of Haur’s fingers. If he could just use that for two minutes … maybe four. It was all he needed. He could universally shift the course—

“Storm’s coming,” someone said as he dropped more gear. “A mean, nasty one with a butt load of snow and freezing temperatures.”

A rumble of groans reverberated through the room.

His brother might just die before Haur gave General Zheng the pleasure of unleashing his vengeance on his son. To Bai, he said in Chinese, “He will not have prepared for that.”

“Perhaps, but little stops his iron will,” Bai spoke softly in their native tongue, his face not masking the disgust as he assessed the team. “They are weak. Jianyu will outsmart them.”

Haur glanced toward the taller leader and the dog handler. “I would not underestimate them, Bai.”

“Ghost.”

Haur looked as Watterboy handed off a pack. “Got these from the kennel. Thought you could use it for Trinity.”

Ghost hesitated, then took the packages. He unwrapped the smaller. “Doggles, sweet.” He smiled, then opened the larger item. “Whoa. No way!” He held up what appeared to be a vest. “Tell me … this isn’t … an
Intruder?
“

Watterboy grinned. “Yeah, don’t mention it.”

“I can’t believe they let you have a Storm Intruder vest. This thing has everything—camera, special harness, life vest, four-channel receiver—dude!”

Watterboy and another man laughed. “Seriously.
Don’t
mention it. Not to anyone. Just go with it.” The meaning was not to be missed. They’d absconded with one for the man and his team, which made Haur wonder why it was not just issued to the soldier.

Ghost’s smile slipped, but he nodded.

“I’m counting on you and Trinity to keep us alive.”

Grating and grinding, the large steel door rolled up into the ceiling. General Burnett stood, flanked by a half-dozen men, most in suits. Which meant, not military. “Okay, ladies. Gather up.”

Haur started forward, but Burnett held up a hand. “Sorry, Colonel. I’ll need you to stay out of this one.”

Haur stood mute, frozen. Overwhelmed, once again, by the certainty that he would not come off that mountain alive.

Heath tested the vest once more for a snug, solid fit. He tugged on the front around her shoulders to make sure it wasn’t going anywhere. His mind zigzagged over the cost, over the question of whether he’d have to return it—of course he would, it was a forty-grand loan—and how much he wished he could keep it.

Hooking his hand through the lead, he smiled as Trinity looked up at him. She had that “I’m gorgeous and you know it” look going on.

“Daniels! Front and center.”

Heath tugged Trinity forward as the team huddled with the general and suits in a corner. “Sir.”

“Okay, listen up. This is Agent Bright with the SIS.”

“Spooks.” Candyman spat.

“That’s right,” the general said in a tone that explained how happy he was with this whole predicament. “So just shut it and listen up.”

Agent Bright stepped forward. “Thank you, General.” Chiseled jaw with a scar over his left temple, the British agent slipped into his role with ease. “What I’m about to tell you is confidential.”

“And if you tell anyone, you’ll have to kill us, right?” Candyman shot off.

Bright seemed to chew down the stub on his frustration. “About five hours ago, one of our operatives activated his emergency code.”

“That sounds real 007ish.” Man, Candyman was in his element antagonizing the spook.

“Then you’ll know that Bond always gets his guy.” Bright rolled with it. “And so will we. The transponder emits a signal once every hour.”

“What good is that?”

“It keeps my man alive.”

Candyman nodded. “Understood.”

Spreading a map over his knee, Bright pointed to some marks. “His signal first emitted here.”

“Geologist’s base camp.”

Bright nodded. “Then here, here, and here.”

“That’s only four,” Watters said. “Thought you said he went missing five hours ago?”

“Next activation is in roughly fifteen minutes.”

“And this means what to us?”

“My agent was on that survey team.”

“Why?”

Bright smirked. “Even Bond never told all his secrets.”

Candyman eyed the guy. “Which means you’d have to kill me—or at least die trying—if you told me.”

“You’re almost smart enough to be a spook, Candyman.”

“How d’you know my name?” The man’s face fell as he looked around, the others laughing. “How’d he know my name?”

“Listen up, ladies,” General Burnett said in his booming, grouchy voice. “You know what we’re after. Head up to the camp. Send me the feeds. But then, I want you with the spook at the last-known location.”

Watterboy hesitated, scratching his dark beard. “
With
the spook?”

“My guy is missing, too, so I’m going,” Bright said.

Several around them cursed, but the extra body could work in their favor. Heath understood the territorial nature and the belief that the more “new” you added to the mix, the more volatile that mixture became for the team. But the spook clearly had access to stuff the military didn’t. And for Heath, that increased his chance of surviving this, and if the spook was still alive and sending a signal, then it was possible Jia was, too.