by Todd Borg
A portion of the glider canopy had come over the top of the fence.
I grabbed a wide stretch of paraglider fabric in my hands.
A howl erupted from down toward the driveway gate. It wasn’t Diamond. It was the real thing.
Spot.
The German Shepherd jerked to a stop as if he’d hit an invisible wall. He turned and stared toward the howling sound.
Spot’s howl stopped.
The shepherd seemed confused.
I felt bad. I never want a dog to lose its confidence, to have doubt and confusion when it’s only trying to do its job.
The German Shepherd turned back toward Vince and me. I didn’t want Vince to be a target, so I jumped left, then right as if to say come and get me.
The shepherd once again bolted toward me, a new growl in its throat. I waited until the last moment. As the dog made its leap to lock jaws onto my shoulder, I threw the fabric up and out like a curtain, then dropped down and to the side. The dog found itself jumping into an ocean of purple material, obscuring its view. I pulled down on the fabric, drawing it down to the ground, the dog with it.
I didn’t want the dog to be afraid, but I also didn’t want to get bit through the thin nylon material. In the light from the flood by the door, I could see the shape of the dog wrapped in the paraglider wing. The dog was thrashing, trying to get out from under the fabric. I did a fast crawl over and pulled the fabric around the dog’s body. I snugged the fabric tight, then slid my grip up toward the base of the dog’s neck.
Like horses and many other animals, dogs, no matter how spirited, respond to dominance. When a dog realizes that someone else is in control, it usually gives in. I held the fabric tight around the shepherd, kept my hands and my body weight firm on the dog’s body, holding its neck so it couldn’t turn and bite, and talked in a low voice.
“It’s okay, buddy. We’re just gonna lie here a minute. You and I will get comfortable, and we’ll get calm. You’re okay. You have nothing to fear from me.”
As I spoke, I could feel the dog stop trying to turn and bite me. Its body was still tense, 80 or 90 pounds of solid, quivering muscle. But it understood that it was wrapped and subdued. The dog knew I was in control. It also knew the difference between an angry human voice and a calm and soothing one.
I looked past the dog toward the yard and lodge, wondering if anyone had heard us or the dog. Not far from the floodlight was a curved device mounted under the roof eave. It looked like a motion detector. If so, we were directly in front of it. If the alarm was working, and if there were men in the house, there’d be plenty of action happening soon.
I turned around, facing Vince. He’d unsnapped the buckles holding him in the harness. But one line was still tangled around his thigh. He pulled out his knife and sliced through the line.
“That was impressive flying,” I whispered. “Thanks.”
“I worried we’d land on our heads. But we’re not paralyzed. That’s pure luck.” He stepped out of the tangle of lines and harness and sheathed his knife.
“Get down to the gate and figure out how to let Diamond in. The only way I can ease up on this shepherd without being his chew toy is if you can get Spot into this yard so he can distract this shepherd.”
Vince ran toward the gate.
I lay on the ground, behind the shepherd, my arms holding the fabric around him. He panted hard and fast. But otherwise he didn’t struggle. “Good boy,” I whispered.
I heard several thumps and then a soft screech of metal. I expected an alarm bell to go off. But all I heard was the sound of Spot running up the drive. Even in the dark, Spot is an unmistakable presence, a white-and-black blur that’s unnerving to nearly anyone who doesn’t know Great Danes and their size. Except that he was now a charcoal-dust gray-and-black dog.
“Hey, Spot,” I said in a voice that was just loud enough for Spot to hear.
He realized I was lying on the ground in the large fluffy pile of paraglider fabric. He trotted over, wagging, trying to figure out why I didn’t stand up. I saw his nostrils flex. He stepped closer, discovering I wasn’t alone.
“Hold on, Largeness. Let me unwrap your new friend.”
Spot lowered his head toward the bundle of fabric next to me, his brow furrowed, no doubt trying to understand what new kind of craziness I was up to.
I shifted my grip on fabric and dog, gradually slipping the fabric down over the shepherd’s head. I was careful to maintain my grip so that I didn’t risk losing fingers or worse to a confused German Shepherd.
I got the fabric pulled off the shepherd’s head. With my hands still on his neck so he couldn’t grab me, he strained to lift his head and stare at Spot.
The German Shepherd probably didn’t know Danes. But he knew a friendly dog when he saw it. Spot stretched out his front paws, lowering his chest, his tail on high speed.
I kept a firm grip on the shepherd as I pulled at the fabric with my other hand. In another minute, I had the fabric pulled free from the shepherd. Buried in the shepherd’s thick fir was a collar I hadn’t felt before. Holding the dog by its collar, I got both of us up and out of the paraglider material, and we stood. Spot walked up and sniffed the shepherd, nose to nose.
Many dogs, held by a strange man, would be hyper wary, ready to snap at man and dog alike. But Spot has an ability to make all creatures think that life is for having fun. In a moment, the shepherd seemed to reassess his surroundings. Maybe his job wasn’t about tackling burglars who dropped out of the sky. Maybe his job was to run around and play with this new, huge companion.
When I sensed that the shepherd had nearly forgotten about the man holding him, I let go and stepped back.
The shepherd didn’t seem to notice me. He walked toward Spot, then made a sudden start, and both dogs took off around the yard playing catch-me-if-you-can.
Diamond and Vince appeared, jogging up the drive as I got loose from the glider harness and lines.
Vince spoke in a low whisper. “I found the crank arm that works the gate, and I pounded out the cotter pin that held it in place. What’s next?”
I said, “I’ll take the north side of the house, you take the south. Diamond, you stay near the front door in case anyone runs out. Remember, we’re feeling under each window, looking for the release catch for a hidden door. Maybe it no longer exists. But if we can get inside without breaking a window and making noise, that will be a huge advantage. Turn on your radios. Use a quiet voice to announce your moves. Stay as silent as possible.”
“What about your dog?” Vince said.
“I think he’s currently performing the most valuable function he can, keeping the shepherd occupied. Let’s go.”
I ran around to the north side of the lodge, wondering again why there was no alarm. Perhaps Jonni, using the guard’s phone, had been able to turn the alarm off.
The north side of the lodge was away from the light at the front and very dark. I crept along, staying low. There were six windows at even intervals along the wall. All of them were dark, which meant that anyone inside could possibly see out. I walked softly to the side of the first one, reached down below the sill and felt for anything unusual that could be a door release. Nothing seemed obvious. I squatted down to the ground and did a more thorough inspection. All I could feel were the cedar shakes that made up the siding below the window.
I crawled under the window and over to the next. It too felt the same. Yet it was obvious that there could be any number of devices that would not present themselves as an opening into the house. The whole point of a hidden door was to be secret. Perhaps one of the cedar shakes twisted or lifted up to open the door. It would be possible to be at the correct place and still never find the door.
Diamond’s voice came in my earpiece. “The dogs just ran by, heading for the north side where you are, Owen. Don’t want you to surprise the shepherd and make him bark.”
“Got it,” I whispered. “Vince? Any luck?”
“I’ve checked four of
six windows. No door.”
“Expect the door release to be quite hard to find,” I said. “I’m only just beginning my second window.”
“Trust me,” Vince said. “I checked everything. No secret door.”
I was certain that Vince’s eagerness to find his kid was making him impulsive.
I felt all over under the second window. Same cedar shakes. I tried pulling and turning each one. I ran my fingertips under the windowsill. No catch or handle or latch. I moved onto the third. Same result.
Vince spoke in my ear. “I’m going to make a circuit of the house and look for any other potential ways in.”
I finished checking the windows on the north side. At the end of the house was the second floor deck. I stepped away from the house to get a better look. I knew there’d be a door up on the deck, but I couldn’t see it in the shadows. What I could see was another mini deck at the third floor level, above it, projecting out from under the peak of the gable roof. It was what I always called a Bird Deck, with just enough room for two people to look at the sky or the birds. The access must be through the attic. I sensed some kind of light glimmer, like a power line attached to the house under the roof overhang. But when I looked straight toward it, I saw nothing.
Either of the second floor or third floor deck doors might be unlocked. But I couldn’t see a clear way to get up to them from the outside. There was a thick group of trees around one side of the second-floor deck. Their branches seemed to reach up to the mini deck on the third. If we couldn’t find another way in, maybe I could climb those trees.
“Light just turned on in the house.” Diamond’s voice in my ear. “Second floor. A third of the way back from the front.”
“I see it,” Vince said. “I’m moving away from the house to get a better line of sight. Maybe I can see in.”
Vince would now be on the north side of the house. I walked around to the south side. No lights there. I walked up to one of the dark windows that Vince had already checked and peered in from the side. I cupped my hands around my face but couldn’t see anything. I moved to the next window. Still nothing. If there was a stairway within view, no light spilled down from upstairs. I felt the siding below the window. Ran my fingers along the bottom of the sill. Something felt smooth. I slid my fingertips back and forth. Most of the sill felt like painted wood. But there was a part of the surface that felt smoother. Like a brass inlay, flush with the surface.
I didn’t dare turn on my flashlight. I had to operate by feel.
“I can’t see anything in the upstairs window,” Vince said. “The light went off. Probably a bathroom. Could be Jon. But he usually sleeps through the night.”
I hooked my fingernails at the edges of the polished part. Moved them down one edge. Back up the other. The smooth inlay was about three inches long and about a half inch wide. I tried to dig my fingernail in at the end of the strip. There was a little movement. I pulled down. The strip moved. My finger slipped behind it. It pivoted. When I pulled it down 90 degrees, there was a soft chunking sound. Like a door latch releasing.
The left side of the cedar shake siding swung out from the wall of the lodge.
“I’m in,” I said softly.
“Where?” came Diamond’s voice.
“The hidden doorway is on the south side. Second window back from the front.”
“But I checked all those windows,” Vince said.
“It was hard to find.”
“Crap,” Vince said with a sudden exhalation.
“What?” I said.
Vince lowered his voice to a whisper, “A door just opened on the north side of the house.” Then, even softer, he said, “A guy stepped out. It’s so dark I can’t really see him. Now he’s standing in the open doorway. Oh, I get it. He’s smoking. There’s a red glow of his cigarette. What should I do? We could charge that doorway!”
“No,” I said. “We want more surprise. The hidden door will do that. When he shuts the door, we’ll watch the house for signs of his movement. If we can tell where he goes, we can plan our assault.”
Vince didn’t respond.
“Vince, what do you see?” I asked.
He didn’t answer.
“Vince,” I said in an urgent voice. “Diamond, you better go check.”
“Roger that,” Diamond’s voice said in my ear.
As Diamond said it, I heard a muffled yell. The cry lingered like that of a man in agonizing pain.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
“I got him!” Vince shouted.
There was a flash from within the house and a huge boom. Apparently, Vince was trying to pull off a lone assault, hitting the cigarette smoker with bear spray and then throwing an M - 80 into the house.
I ducked my head down and went in through the hidden door.
I was in a long living room, dimly lit by light coming down a stairway. Vince was visible through the open doorway across the room. He was twenty feet out from the house, sitting on a man’s back, wrestling with the man’s arms, pulling his wrists together behind his back. He got a zip tie in place, yanked it tight, then moved to the man’s ankles. In a moment, he made a yell of triumph. “Got you hogtied, you sick bastard.”
“You are dead meat,” came the roar of another man who was leaping down the stairway toward me, a knife in his right hand. If Vince had thought the M-80 would stun him or slow him down, it wasn’t working.
I jerked my bear spray off my belt and blasted it toward the dim staircase, aiming for where I thought the man’s face might be. He yelled, put one hand to his face, and staggered, temporarily blind, unable to breathe. He collapsed to his knees. One of his hands had a heavy bandage around it and his thumb. The man Jonni had helped.
Vince ran inside. “You got another one of these jerks! I’ll tie him, too.”
I found a light switch on the wall and flipped it on.
Vince was bending down over the man. “Vince! Stop! He’s got a knife!”
Vince jumped back, saw the knife. He kicked the man in the back, knocking him forward onto his stomach. Vince stomped the hand with the knife.
The man howled louder.
Vince stepped on the man’s wrist to hold his hand in place, then removed the knife from his hand. He pulled the man’s hands together and tied them behind the man’s back. “Two blind men tied,” Vince said.
Diamond appeared at the open side door. “Movement out here,” he said. He shined his light.
“What?” I stepped out into the dark behind him.
Diamond was standing near the man Vince had hogtied.
“I thought I saw someone else near this guy,” Diamond said. “Bending over him as if he was reaching into the man’s pockets.”
I did like Diamond, shining my light around the grounds. I ran over to one end of the lodge and shined my light down the outer wall. I saw nothing.
I ran to the far corner and shined my light in the other direction. Diamond appeared near me, pointing his light into the darkness.
“I see nothing,” he said. “I better get back to the two men. You said you saw three men when you were here earlier.”
“Yeah. The third man could free the other two. You watch them while Vince and I search the house.”
“Remember, you’ve got my backup,” Diamond said, referring to his gun that I was presently wearing on my ankle.
I nodded. Outside in clear air, a gun rules. Inside, in dark rooms, I could stop nearly anyone with bear spray even if I didn’t shoot accurately. I didn’t even need to look in the room, just reach around the corner and spray. Much harder to hit someone in the dark with a bullet. Not that I wanted to.
I looked at the stairway, then turned to Vince. “I’ll go up first. Stay ten feet behind me. Separation makes it harder to kill us both.”
Vince frowned. I ran up the stairs. There was a landing where the staircase turned back on itself. I paused on the landing and looked up the second flight of stairs. The source of light was visible, an open door some distance away.
Vince was below me. As I took the next steps two at a time, he followed, keeping a short distance between us.
The stairs brought me to a central area from which two hallways led to what were probably bedrooms, each doorway at regular intervals that no doubt matched the intervals we’d seen between the gabled windows outside. The doors were all open and all dark. A perfect setup for a trap. An adversary could be standing in the shadow of a doorway, taking aim, and we could not tell where he was.
I took two steps back down the staircase and spoke to Vince in a whisper.
“There’s no sign of activity. Just dark rooms…” My words were interrupted by a sound coming from someplace on the second floor. “Follow me!” I said to Vince.
I ran toward the sound, which I thought came from the hallway that went toward the rear of the house. Near the end of the hall was a narrow stairway that went up toward the attic and what I now knew was the small, third-floor deck. The narrow passage was illuminated by two small wall sconces, one at the bottom of the stairs and one at the top. I couldn’t hear anyone moving, but the logical thought was that someone had gone up the stairs. Of course, the lights could have been turned on as misdirection.
Vince came down the hall behind me. He charged past me and ran up the stairs, two at a time. Maybe he heard something I didn’t. Maybe not.
I worried that if I too went up, anyone who was hiding on the second floor could go down and possibly escape. I looked up and saw Vince reaching for the door out to the bird deck. He opened it. A man jumped into the opening from outside and hit Vince on his jaw with a blow so hard it had the effect of a battering ram. Vince was knocked back to the side wall.
Vince reached out with his arms, trying to grab the wall and stabilize himself. His attacker, who was substantially smaller than Vince, turned sideways. In one smooth motion, he launched a high sidekick, his upper body bending way down to the level of his waist to counter the motion of his foot, which shot out like a lightning bolt. His foot went high and struck Vince on the crown of his forehead.
I knew it was a misfire in terms of effectiveness, because the upper forehead is one of the most durable places to withstand a hard blow. Nevertheless, Vince’s head snapped backward and hit the wooden wall. He staggered, rotated as he collapsed, and fell down the stairs toward me as his attacker went out the deck door.
