A Good Samaritan

by Jesse Jacobson

  “You said Dancing Bear was a rough character,” Andrews said.

  “Tough as nails,” Mankato clarified.

  “Were you surprised to see him taken down this badly?”

  “Yes, very surprised. I’ve been an EMT for thirty years. I’ve been called to many a scene where I treated and transported one of Dancing Bear’s victims. This is the first time I’ve seen the shoe on the other foot, so to speak.”

  “Who on the reservation might be capable of putting Dancing Bear in this condition?” Andrews asked.

  Mankato thought for a moment, “No one local I know of?”

  “No one?”

  “Well, there is one man I know of, but it couldn’t be him,” Mankato speculated.

  “Why not?”

  “I think he left the reservation years ago.”

  “Who was he?”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  “Why not?”

  “The man I’m talking about . . . he’s a legend, and besides, I would never want to get on his bad side.”

  “And you think just mentioning his name to me will get you on his bad side?”

  “Wouldn’t want to risk it.”

  Andrews considered what he’d heard for a moment and nodded.

  “Thank you for your time, Mankato. I’m going to have one of my agents come and get a statement from you.”

  “It’s going to have to be en route to the hospital,” Mankato insisted. “I need to move this man now or you’ll never get to talk to him.”

  “Agent Gray will take you in the chopper. I’ll hitch a ride to the hospital in one of the vehicles. I want this man alive. I’ll get your RA back to the hospital.”

  “What’s an RA?”

  “Police speak for Rescue Ambulance.”

  “Oh . . . good to know.”

  “What do you call it?”

  Mankato shrugged, “I call it an ambulance.”

  Andrews chuckled, “Thank you again.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Andrews walked away, pausing for a moment. He turned back toward the Dakota EMT.

  “Mankato,” Andrews called out.

  “Yes?”

  “This local legend you thought might be capable of kicking Dancing Bear’s ass, the one you don’t want to identify?”

  “What about him?”

  “Does his name begin with an ‘R’ and end with an ‘H-O-R-S-E?’”

  “So . . . you know him?”

  “I do,” Andrews acknowledged.

  “If he has done this thing to Dancing Bear, it was justified,” Mankato said.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “The man you speak of is a great man. The res owes him a debt of gratitude. I owe him personally.”

  “So, you know him?” Andrews asked.

  “No. Never met him.” Mankato admitted.

  “Do me a favor?”

  “What’s that?”

  “When Agent Gray comes to get your statement, don’t mention his name.”

  Mankato shrugged, “Mention whose name?”

  Chapter 10

  When Rainhorse pulled into the Pleasant Prairie Lutheran Church parking lot there was no one there. He looked at his watch.

  “He’ll be here in ten to fifteen minutes,” he reported.

  Lindsay scowled at Rainhorse; her arms were crossed.

  “What?”

  “I can’t wait any longer,” she grumbled.

  Rainhorse rolled his eyes, “And away we go . . .”

  “So, why did you do it?” she asked. “Why did you leave?”

  “I thought we were going to have this conversation much later,” he replied.

  “Your friends are not here, yet. We have time right now,” Lindsay insisted.

  “Can’t we at least discuss this after we recover my godson?”

  “No, I can’t wait,” Lindsay insisted, “and you haven’t earned the right to call him your godson. You’ve never been here for him.”

  Rainhorse pursed his lips, nodded, and let out a breath, “I deserved that,” he admitted.

  “You damn right you deserve it. So . . . why did you do it? Why did you leave?”

  “I was . . . unhappy,” he explained.

  Lindsay bit her lip; her eyes grew moist instantly, “Unhappy . . . with me?”

  “No. Unhappy with myself,” Rainhorse said.

  “I don’t understand,” Lindsay said softly.

  “I was not cut out for a nine to five job,” he confessed. “I hated it. I was not good at it.”

  “You were new at it, you big idiot,” Lindsay insisted. “If you had just been patient . . .”

  “Lindsay, I spent my entire youth on a reservation,” he interrupted. “all my odd jobs were outdoors. Then I went into the military where I was assigned to clandestine missions overseas. When I became a paid assassin, I never spent more than a few weeks in one spot. Being in an office in the same building every day was smothering me . . . I couldn’t do it.”

  “But you’re my family, Jackson. I was getting married. Matty and I were going to raise a family. I wanted to share all of it with you.”

  “I know, and as much as I love you and wanted to be near you, I couldn’t breathe here. I was going to go crazy if I didn’t get out of the office.”

  “Why didn’t you just come and talk to me about it?”

  “Because when you do not get your way you are the most pig-head person I have ever known . . . except for your mother, of course.”

  Lindsay drew in a deep breath and allowed her lungs to slowly express it as she thought about what he said. She knew he was right. She realized she could be overbearing at times, especially for Rainhorse.

  “Red keeps telling me you are a rolling stone,” she mumbled.

  “He believes I am a rock?” Rainhorse asked.

  “No. A rolling stone. It’s an expression,” Lindsay repeated.

  Rainhorse shrugged, “I don’t know what that is.”

  “It’s a phrase people use. A rolling stone is a person who likes to move often or is unwilling to settle down in one place. This phrase comes from the old saying ‘a rolling stone gathers no moss.’”

  “It sounds like me,” he admitted. “A rolling stone.”

  “It doesn’t explain why you never called me, or wouldn’t return my calls,” she said. “It hurt me, Jackson. I can’t tell you how badly it hurt.”

  “I know,” he admitted, “and I’m sorry. I knew if we talked, you’d wouldn’t take no for an answer. In all these years, I wanted to call, but I knew you’d pressure me to come back, and I wasn’t ready. I can never say no to you, anyway. I knew I’d give in and return.”

  “And you also knew you’d never be happy?”

  Rainhorse nodded, “Vicious circle.”

  “Have you been happy working for UNICEF?” she asked.

  “Immensely, yes. Neha and I both have. It reminds me of the most satisfying parts of my life, when I served as a Ranger in the Airborne Division. In the army, my efforts worked toward freeing people from tyranny. At UNICEF, I’ve been able to use my skills to help communities. I can help people live better lives. It provides me with tremendous energy. I love every minute.”

  “Didn’t you ever miss me?”

  He smiled at her, “Every day.”

  Lindsay was just about to respond when light from a vehicle’s headlights flooded into the truck’s cabin.

  Rainhorse recognized the old Ford Bronco immediately. It pulled alongside his truck. Lindsay saw a good looking, well-built white male hop out of the Bronco. Without a wave, nod, smile or other acknowledgement, the man opened the rear door and a striking sable German Shepherd emerged.

  The man opened the backseat passenger door and the dog jumped into the truck. He then opened the tailgate of the truck and then the rear door of the Bronco. As he moved, Lindsay noticed the man walked with a pronounced limp. He transferred two automatic weapons and a large metal box into the rear of the Bronco. He closed the tailgat
es of the Bronco and truck and then slipped into the back seat alongside the dog.

  Rainhorse put the truck into gear and then drove away.

  “It is good to see you, brother,” Rainhorse said.

  “Good to see you too,” the man replied. “I see you’ve never learned to use contractions.”

  “I speak just fine,” Rainhorse insisted.

  “Right. That’s just what I was thinking,” he replied.

  “You brought sniper rifles?” Rainhorse asked.

  Kujo nodded, “Two MK 12 SPR Special Purpose Sniper Rifles.”

  “And handguns?”

  “Of course.”

  “Glock 19’s?” Rainhorse asked.

  “With two extra clips, each. Would a real Ranger carry anything else?”

  Rainhorse nodded but said nothing.

  “I see my friend forgot his manners once again,” Lindsay interjected. “My name is Lindsay Vanderbilt.”

  “I’m Joseph Kuntz. Everyone calls me Kujo,” the man replied.

  “And who is your beautiful friend?” Lindsay asked.

  Kujo smiled and scratched the dog’s ears, “This is my best friend, Six.”

  “I’m pleased meet you, Six,” Lindsay said to the dog. Six whimpered softly in response and nuzzled his owner’s arm.

  “He’s a little shy around beautiful women,” Kujo said.

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” Lindsay replied. “So, how do you and Jackson know each other? Were you in the army together?”

  “Oh, hell no,” Kujo scoffed. “Rainhorse was in the service a long time ago with the other veterans who are . . . senior citizens. I came along much later.”

  “Pretty funny stuff coming from a gimpy dog handler,” Rainhorse jibed back.

  “I’m a little worried,” Lindsay piped in. “Do you two actually like each other.”

  “Of course,” Rainhorse replied, looking at Lindsay as though she just landed on earth from outer space. “We are Ranger brothers.”

  “And card-carrying members of the Brotherhood Protectors,” Kujo added.

  “Well, you don’t sound like you care for each other all that much,” Lindsay replied. “My son’s life is in your hands.”

  “Don’t worry,” Kujo added. “It’s just a little Ranger smack talk.”

  “So, how did you meet?” Lindsay asked.

  “Through the Brotherhood Protectors,” Kujo explained. “We’ve helped each other before.”

  “How so?”

  “It’s a long story?”

  “You’ll have to tell it to me when this is over.”

  Kujo nodded, “So, what’s the story here?” he asked Rainhorse. “You didn’t tell me much, just that I needed to be here and to bring some firepower and equipment.”

  “Lindsay’s son is being held by six armed Sioux and Dakota men at an abandoned ranch once owned by a Dakota named Crow Foot,” Rainhorse said. “The boy is being held in the barn, I am told.”

  “Do you know this place?” Kujo asked.

  “I do,” Rainhorse replied. “And the man who told me the location was also kind enough to share the positions of the guards with me.”

  “That was nice of him,” Kujo said. “I’m sure the information came from the goodness of his heart.”

  “Not so much,” Rainhorse admitted.

  “That’s what I thought. Are you confident in the intel?”

  “Yes. I provided a little . . . additional motivation, of course.”

  “You threatened to kill his family, didn’t you?” Kujo sighed.

  Rainhorse shrugged, “It’s my go-to move.”

  Kujo shook his head, “You know, one of these days someone is going to call bullshit on your bluffs.”

  “Unlikely,” the Cheyenne argued.

  Lindsay glared at him.

  “What?” Rainhorse asked. “I can be very convincing.”

  “Uh huh,” Kujo hummed. “So, Rain, tell me the plan.”

  “Part one of this operation will be to eliminate the guards outside without alerting the two remaining men inside who are holding the boy.”

  “Roger that,” Kujo acknowledged. “What will be our approach?”

  “There is a grove about two clicks away from the barn,” Rainhorse said. “How’s the limp? Can you make it okay? Will you require a wheelchair?”

  “Just try to keep up with me, old-timer.”

  “What’s a click?” Lindsay asked.

  “Army speak,” explained Kujo. “A click is a kilometer.”

  “So, two clicks are equal to one-point-four miles?” Lindsay figured.

  “Smart lady,” Kujo offered.

  “If I may continue,” Rainhorse snarled, glaring at Lindsay. “We will park behind the grove and proceed on foot. When we are one click from the barn, we will split up. You will circle to the north and take out the two north-side guards and I will circle to the left and take out the two south-side guards. We will synchronize our watches and fire at the same time.”

  “Got it,” Kujo confirmed. “I brought whisper microphones and earpieces, too. You just slip this Bluetooth piece in your ear and tap it when you want to talk. It will pick up the lowest whisper.”

  “Excellent,” Rainhorse said. “You have night vision glasses?”

  “Never go anywhere without them,” he assured.

  “Good.”

  “After we take out the guards, what then?” Kujo asked.

  “There is a ridge on the southwest side of the barn,” Rainhorse began. “It will give you reasonable visibility of both entrances. You will position yourself on the ridge in case one or both of the two remaining men make a break for it.”

  “You mean you’re going in alone?”

  “Yes.”

  Kujo sighed, “Rainhorse, on the planet you’re from, do people always behave this irrationally?”

  Rainhorse made eye contact with Kujo through the rearview mirror, “There are only two of them inside. Why would I need help?”

  Kujo raised both hands, choosing not to argue, “Oh . . . okay, this is your show.”

  “Why the dog?’ Lindsay asked.

  “In the event Rain has to eliminate both men inside before we can extract the location of your son, I can use Six to locate the position of your boy,” Kujo explained.

  “I don’t understand,” Lindsay said. “Won’t Jackie be in the barn?”

  “It is very possible Rattling Thunder has hidden the boy somewhere inside the barn, perhaps a crawl space or an attic or some other hiding space,” Rainhorse said. “If I am unable to capture one of the men inside, we will allow Six to sniff Jackie’s teddy bear.”

  “Six will lead us right to him, ma’am,” Kujo insisted.

  “You think Jackie is hidden in a crawl space?” Lindsay repeated, fighting back tears.

  Actually, it was more likely HRT buried him alive with a small air pipe to breathe, Rainhorse thought, but didn’t say. HRT was capable of any atrocity. In the event of an FBI raid, he was certain Rattling Thunder’s men would cut off the child’s air supply.

  “This is just a precaution,” Rainhorse lied. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

  “Don’t worry,” Ms. Vanderbilt, “Rain, Six and I will get your boy back to you tonight.”

  Lindsay drew in a deep breath, trying to regain her composure.

  “If you don’t mind my asking, how is it you have a military dog, anyway? Doesn’t Six belong to the army?”

  Kujo fell silent and scratched Six’s ears again.

  “I’m sorry,” Lindsay said. “I’ve overstepped. It’s none of my business.”

  “No, that’s ok,” Kujo insisted. “Six and I have had an incredible journey together. We’ve had to overcome many hurdles. When I left the army, I wasn’t in a great mental frame of mind. I was injured by shrapnel, and then discharged. I got word Six was wounded in the line of duty. He was injured by an explosive device and was retired from active duty. He went up for adoption, but the army couldn’t find him a good home. I’d spent t
hree years trying to forget about my time in the army. I’d lost several dogs in the process and the losses weighed heavily on me. I didn’t want to live through yet another loss again, but when I heard Six’s name, something inside my heart ached. It ached so badly, I thought I might be having an attack. Six was a great dog. I didn’t understand why they wouldn’t be able to find a good home for him. He’d been up for adoption for months. He had two foster families but neither one worked out. Because of his injury, he limped badly. No one else stepped forward to take him.”

  “Oh my god,” Lindsay said. “That had to be a tough situation.”

  Kujo nodded, “It was. At first, I tried to look the other way. That part of my life was over. Then Duke, an old army buddy, let me know if no one adopted Six, they were going to put him down within three days.”

  Lindsay gasped, “That’s horrible.”

  “He was on doggie death row. No one wanted him, and I was his last hope. Six had behavior issues. After I left the service, he went through four different handlers before being injured. He needed a stable influence. I was very bitter about the whole thing. The Army had dropped me and now they wanted to drop Six. I couldn’t let it happen.”

  “So now, here he is,” Lindsay finished.

  Kujo nodded, scratching his best friend’s ears.

  “Ok, Kujo, we’re almost here,” Rainhorse interjected. “Time to punch in.”

  Chapter 11

  Special Agent Jim Andrews walked through the front entrance of Sheridan Memorial Hospital. He gave a nod to the two agents standing guard by the door.

  “Has the patient arrived?”

  “He’s been upstairs for a while.”

  “Where is my partner?” he asked the younger one.

  “Agent Powell is at the nurse’s station on the seventh floor.”

  “The seventh floor? What the hell is he doing there?”

  The young agent shrugged, “He didn’t say.”

  Andrews took the elevator to the seventh floor where he saw his partner interviewing the lead nurse.

  “What’s the story, Billy?”

  “We have our first real lead,” Powell replied. “This is Nurse White Wolf. She is looking up an employee picture on the computer for us now.”

  “What lead are you talking about?”