Pursuits Unknown

by Ellen Clary

  Amy took a step back and looked at him. “Sort of, but I sure hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  He smiled and nodded in that comforting way. “Us, too.”

  “Just don’t make me carry a gun.”

  “We won’t. Now, you get to go back to Choran and meet with your handler, whose name is Tyson Mulhaney. He’s a good guy. He’ll take care of you. I trust him.”

  “Thanks. I hope I can help.”

  They shook hands, Bill petted Lars, and Amy got back into the Choran car and told it to go to the Choran Fed office.

  On the way, Amy admired the incredible beauty that lots of rain offered. Right now, she was looking at a mix of deciduous and conifer trees with a rich green undergrowth, wildflowers covering the parts of the hills that the trees hadn’t occupied.

  She knew the car would be going through the mountains, and it would be all evergreen trees. Then it would get much dryer as they moved inland.

  “How are you doing Lars? Did you like where we were?”

  /Good smells./

  “Kinda boring for you, but we’ll have more fun in a bit.”

  /Fun?/

  “Not yet though, time for a nap.”

  CHAPTER 39:

  Amy Meets with Tyson

  THE CAR pulled into the parking lot at the small Fed building in Choran. With its sandstone color, it tried to blend into the landscape and failed. It was one of those buildings where you couldn’t tell if it was three stories or two, with one sunken-in ground floor. In either case, it was the tallest, most blocky thing around, and while it had windows, they were divided up into smaller panes at just the wrong position that strove to make them completely nonfunctional. The center of the building was a mostly flat grey stone color, with a fake old-looking analog clock displayed on center screen. Harris would have said that you could tell the clock was fake because the time was correct. It was about as imposing as an old post office, though she guessed a post office might be imposing if they were holding your mail captive.

  Amy double-checked her notes. She was going to be meeting with Tyson Mulhaney, whose picture showed him to be in his mid-fifties and sturdily built, but probably less imposing than her coworker Steve. The picture showed that he had a large frame, but she couldn’t tell if it was muscle or fat. Over time she’d learned not to underestimate larger people. His skin was a dark bronze, and he had light brown eyes and an open, slightly weathered face that smiled back at the camera.

  As they approached the building, a man looking exactly like the photograph emerged.

  “Hi, you must be Amy.” He reached out his hand.

  Taking his hand, she said, “Yes, and you must be—is it Agent?—Mulhaney.”

  “Just call me Tyson, everybody else does. Nice to meet you, Amy, and thanks for being willing to give this surveillance project a try. It is agent, last time I checked, but don’t worry about it unless you’re trying to find me.”

  He handed her a visitor badge. “Come on in and we’ll do some paperwork, and then we can get out of here and go for a walk and talk about what is going to happen.”

  After what seemed like signing her entire life away (including providing multiple emergency contacts), they reemerged and Tyson said, “There’s a park just down the road, okay if we go there? We can stop and pick up something to drink.”

  Amy didn’t think she had much say in the matter, but said, “Sure. Lars will enjoy it too.”

  Amy noticed that even though Tyson was large, he moved with a dancer’s grace. She wondered if he’d played football, soccer, volleyball, or something that required that specialized coordination.

  They walked into the park with drinks in hand. Amy wondered if she was going to need something stronger at the end of all this, and regretted that she couldn’t drink and pilot the plane when she flew home. She thought that was a little odd, since she wasn’t doing the actual piloting of the plane, but remembered that if John could get their car in all sorts of weird places while drunk, then she didn’t want to consider the strange places she could tell the plane to go. It wouldn’t let her fly it into a mountain, but it would be happy to take her to anywhere the fuel could reach, most of which were places she didn’t want to go tonight.

  They sat down at a picnic table, and Lars went to check out the dog pee gossip on the nearby trees.

  Tyson took a tablet out and held it up. “This is Adam Robinson. He comes regularly to the dog park around lunchtime to run his golden retriever, Levi.”

  “A golden? Why isn’t Markus doing this? He’s the one with the golden.”

  “He says he’d just want to steal him, and we have to be hands-off about this.”

  “So Markus admitted to you his creative operational planning when it comes to confiscating drug dealer’s dogs?”

  “He mentioned that peripherally. I don’t think he wants a lot of scrutiny about it. But regarding this issue, we think there’s a better chance that Adam might be willing to talk to you.”

  “About what? Tennis balls?”

  Tyson paused and smiled. “I think you’re being deliberately obtuse. I know skin color is a hard thing to talk about, but we have to. You are a person with a skin color Adam is more likely to talk to.”

  Amy’s eye widened at his bluntness. She shook her head and said completely without rancor, “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been quite so objectified in my life, and it’s not like I’ve never experienced it.”

  “Well, we also need the talents of an agent who is good with dogs as well as humans. Give this some time. Have Lars start to play with his dog Levi, and you say hello and take turns throwing a ball.”

  “Prepare to be really bored—I hope Lars likes Levi.”

  Tyson said, “I’m good at the patience thing. Adam is usually here around noontime. You have class three times a week at the college, and you also bring Lars here at noon. The school quarter has just started, so this fits in well.”

  “What if he asks me out?”

  “Politely say you have a boyfriend or girlfriend who lives out of state.”

  “Oh yeah, Bill was telling me that too. What if he wants to do something after the dog park?”

  “You have class, and we have a teacher there whose office you can go to in case he follows you. And,” he said in that ta-da sort of voice, “we have the most boring, unassuming car for you to drive, complete with campus parking permit. Also, I will be around in case there’s trouble. I’ll be one of those runners alongside the park, who stops and does some of the parkour course there. We need to come up with a help code phrase for you to say to alert me. What sort of common health problem do you not get?”

  Amy thought a second. “Pollen allergies.”

  “Okay, mention allergies and how bad the allergies are, is my alert to how worried you are.”

  Amy said, “You mean like ‘My allergies are bugging me a little,’ versus ‘My allergies are horrible, they’re just killing me,’ while pinching my nose or forehead.”

  Snapping his fingers Tyson said, “Exactly. The first one means move closer. The second one means hop the fence and run over, possibly with weapon drawn.”

  “What classes am I taking?”

  “We’ll give you a course schedule, and you can pick from there. I would suggest a psych class that you’ve already had, but mention that you’re also taking a basic biology class because you have this vet aspiration.”

  “Isn’t he going to figure out that I’m older than a freshman?”

  “Just tell him you were helping on your family’s farm and entered later.”

  “I don’t know a lot about farming.”

  “Say you were taking care of the animals.”

  Amy took a sip of her ignored drink, contemplating the cup.

  Talking to the cup, she said, “So many things could go wrong with this.”

  Flashing that smile again, he said, “And so many things can go right. You are just taking your dog to the dog park. Focus on that, and remember that I’ll be right th
ere, though you will have to learn to not be obvious about looking for me. I might be out running and exercising or I might just be in the car.” He took a breath. “But you’re right, we have to consider contingencies.”

  Amy thought, Uh-oh.

  “I know you’ve been kidnapped before and held hostage at gunpoint. What do you do when you see a gun these days?”

  Amy stiffened. Breathing seemed to get more difficult.

  Tyson said, trying to reassure her. “He’s not likely to have a gun, especially at a dog park.”

  Amy took a drink and looked at the ground. Lars, sensing her tension, came over and rubbed his body up against hers. “I’ve been doing more training around guns, both in target practice and disarming tactics.”

  “But …” Tyson said expectantly, leaning back in what seemed to be an attempt to take the pressure off of her.

  Rubbing her temple, she said, “I really, really don’t like them, and I try not to panic around them. I hate the pain and sorrow they create.” She sniffed, blinking back tears.

  Trying to be gentle, Tyson said, “Stand up, and let’s go through this physically.”

  Amy stood, looking concerned.

  He took out his service pistol, pulled the magazine out of the base of the grip, pocketed it, pulled the slide to eject the round in the chamber, and then turned the gun sideways to show her that it was empty. Then he pointed the gun off to the side, cocked it, and pulled the trigger. The gun just clicked.

  Gritting her front teeth, she said, “Can’t you just try to hit me instead?”

  Smiling, he said, “I could try, but you’d have me on the ground in seconds, and I don’t want to mess up my hair. Stand in front of me.”

  She did, and he brought up the gun to point at her.

  Amy quickly looked away with a gasp and half-turned her body.

  “You can do this, Amy. The gun is empty. It’s just a training tool at this point, and I hope no one in the park calls emergency. I know it’s hard, but when there’s a gun pointed at you from ten feet away you need to close the distance. This is hard, and it’s risky, but it’s your best chance if you are not in a position to run or hide. Put up your hands, start talking about anything, and work your way closer. Focus on your training, remember the goal is to get within striking distance, and, in your case, that means roundhouse kick to the forearm range.”

  “My trainer Tom tells me that kicks aren’t the most reliable disarm method.”

  “True, but if that’s as close as you can get, then it’s a risk worth taking.” Holstering the gun, and miming a gun with his hand, Tyson said, “Let’s just work this out without the gun in sight first.” He pointed his hand at her in the traditional gun style used by children since the invention of the pistol. “Don’t move, or I’ll shoot.”

  Amy asked, “What’s his name again?”

  “Adam, though you need to forget that after this session.”

  Amy balanced her weight between her feet, and took in a deliberate breath, and reached her hands up, out, but slightly towards Tyson. “Adam, it’s okay, no one is going to hurt you,” and she took a step towards him.

  Tyson shook his gun-shaped hand at her. “Don’t move.”

  “Adam, you’re fine, you’re in no danger. Look at … what’s his dog’s name?”

  “Levi.”

  “Look at Levi, he’s not worried, and he would know.” Amy edged a little closer, then after half a beat, she flung out her hands, exasperated. “You know, he would have shot me by now.”

  “Well, this is why we want you two to get to know each other, as the likelihood of him just up and shooting you goes down.”

  “What if there’s a friend of his around to be the heavy?”

  “Then act helpless, and Adam might come to your aid. Let’s do this one more time.”

  Amy sighed heavily, and repositioned herself.

  “And you have to promise not to break my arm.”

  “Why?” she said with a half-smile.

  “Because I have another arm, and I hold grudges.”

  “Oh, okay.” Amy said with the same half-smile.

  They spent the next thirty minutes working out scenarios, and Amy only had to reassure two different passersby that she was okay.

  By the end of the session, Amy was feeling a little better, and at least confident that Tyson would be right there for her.

  They walked back from the park.

  He handed her a couple of mics that she could wear. One could clip on to her clothes, one was a barrette. The mics actually came in much smaller sizes, but it had to be something she could find and manage.

  Tyson glanced at his tablet. “Are you okay with three times a week at noon?”

  “Yes, that’s fine, they’ve cleared my schedule in the middle of the day for this.”

  “Well, take the weekend and think about all this, forward me any questions you have, and I’ll see you next week.”

  “Thanks, Tyson. Bye now.”

  Amy headed back to the car, wondering what she and Lars were now committed to.

  Once she got to the airport, she told the car to take itself back to the Choran office. Tyson had promised her that she’d be using a completely nondescript car next week. She hoped it was smart enough that someone could tell it to meet her at their airport hangar.

  Flying back, Amy wished she could just completely zonk out, but she had to stay in the pilot’s seat in case of emergency or radio transmissions. She was able to get a little sleep and catch up on messages. Tomorrow, she would be helping her mom continue the forever-running canine language project, where they try to figure out what would be the most useful portions of the language to teach their dogs.

  When she wandered back into the Evergreen office in the afternoon, Steve said, “Hey, secret agent.”

  “Hi, Steve. Anyone lost?”

  “Not so far today, but the day isn’t done yet. How is Choran?”

  “Kinda still there.”

  “Are you ready for this?”

  “No, but I have a keeper who is going to watch carefully. He reminds me of you.”

  Smiling, pushing back from his work, and turning to her, he asked, “How?”

  “He’s big and strong, though probably couldn’t lift a horse like you can. He’s nice, but a little more official.”

  “Don’t say I’m nice, it will ruin everything.”

  Stepping forward, she said, “Okay, you’re not nice, you big oaf.”

  “So, you’re just going to be chatting with this guy, Adam?”

  “Hopefully. Assuming that I can get Lars to arrange our meeting.”

  “Matchmaking by Lars. Does John know?”

  “Not in this level of detail. I was supposed to tell him something else. Remember?”

  Looking at her handheld, she said, “Quoting someone named Steve, I’m allegedly going south and doing a report on the welfare of the canine paw pads after they’ve spent a day in the field.”

  “I thought of that? Oh yeah. I like it.”

  She punched his shoulder.

  CHAPTER 40:

  The Canine Language Project

  AMY AND her mother Mary were back to working on what they jokingly referred to as the Canine Language Project, though as time passed, the name appeared to be sticking.

  They were trying to come up with a way to teach the empathic dogs English vocabulary that could assist them when trying to communicate with humans.

  Amy thought back to one of their first sessions. While they were talking about the idea, she had said, “There are so many ways to approach this.”

  Now Mary proposed, “Well, let’s consider the basics. Some dogs were showing an interest in talking to us, probably because they wanted us to better understand what they want. On the flip side, we wanted to know how having a dog able to talk to us could help us.”

  Amy said, “Well, didn’t it all get started with Alice Kimble, the vet, being able to tell where a dog was hurting?”

  “A very dramati
c beginning, but a deliberately underreported way to start, I must say,” Mary said. “But we’ve been just letting this evolve, and it would be interesting to see if we can put more structure into it. We’ve all been good at teaching most any dog particular words.”

  Amy said, “Sit, stay, down, COME,” she added a rising inflection touch with urgency to her voice.

  “Which winds up being Come-come-come-please-come” Mary added.

  Amy lifted her hand thinking. “Plus the dog’s name, and names for things in their environment. And working dogs know words associated with their job. When Lars finds what he’s looking for he says ‘Here.’ And,” Amy made a hand rolling ‘Ta Da’ motion with her hands, “he can say ‘Yes’ or ‘No.’”

  MARY SAID, “Being able to answer questions with yes or no is a huge benefit to your work, but let’s see if we can move beyond that. So, we have actions, meaning verbs, and nouns. The locator words like ‘here’ are states of being. Now the challenge is putting words together in to short sentences.” Pulling out a paper and pen, Mary said, “I’m going to be old-fashioned and just write down notes; we can dictate them later.”

  Amy said, “Fine with me, I often end up deleting half of a recorded brainstorming session anyway.”

  Looking at Amy, Mary said, “Think about your own work. It used to be that when a dog was out searching and they came back to you, you had to follow them back out to see what they found.”

  “It’s still mostly that way.”

  “Can we improve on that?”

  “How?”

  “By teaching them more language. When a dog has found something, what do you want to know?”

  Amy inclined her head. “Er, well, what they found to start.”

  “So animal, mineral, vegetable nouns?”

  “In our case, usually animal, though what kind of animal is helpful, like person, or dog, or horse.”

  “Then what?”

  “Male or female? Transgender is harder, as they can smell subtleties of hormone levels that humans can’t.”