Landshark

by Brian Tormanen

  His eyes. Something wrong with his eyes. Instead of the familiar brown, Koa’s eyes had a dark, shimmering iridescence as if they were made from glass.

  Koa lunged, and Jake fell back, landing on his ass. He put his hand out and felt a dog turd squish between his fingers.

  “Koa, down!” Jake yelled. “Platz!”

  “Get him out of there!” Montoya yelled.

  The dog lunged again, biting Jake in the foot. Koa sank his canines in and shook his head, tearing and growling. Jake kicked with his other foot, hitting the side of Koa’s head, but the fucking dog only bit harder.

  “Aus, aus! Let go!”

  The gate flew open and Koa released as help arrived. He ran to the corner of his kennel and postured up aggressively, barking and snapping his jaws. A cornered animal was scary, but a pissed-off German shepherd with metal legs and big teeth was downright terrifying.

  Jake scrambled to his feet and spun around as Geddon crept into position with the dog pole. While Geddon flanked Koa’s left, the dog moved right, exposing his side to Dr. Levski, who now aimed the tranquilizer pistol in both hands.

  “No!” Jake yelled.

  Jake jumped into Levski’s line of fire just as he pulled the trigger. Pffft! The dart buried into Jake’s right arm. He stared at the plastic white dart in shock before ripping it out and throwing it to the floor.

  “Oh, shit,” Levski said.

  Adrenaline leaked from Jake’s veins, replaced by a strong need to sit the hell down. Unbearably dizzy, he let gravity take him as Koa’s barking echoed between his ears.

  “Nice shot, Vladi,” Geddon yelled. “Jesus Christ!”

  Jake leaned back, feeling his head smack the concrete floor. Blurry faces appeared from above, and for the second time in three days, Jake’s consciousness faded into darkness.

  EIGHT

  Noelani rushed up the stairs two at a time. The monthly staff meeting had started, and she was twenty minutes late. After her mother’s guilt trip, she had a restless night of sleep, nightmares of Nathan, and she overslept. As she entered the lobby, feeling frazzled, she could hear the editor in chief, Bill Nyquist, down the hall.

  The conference room was on the second floor at the small Civil Beat office in Kaimuki. The door was open, and rays of morning sunlight shone like a spotlight on the wall-mounted plaques and framed awards for investigative journalism. A large whiteboard and flat-screen television were mounted on the opposite side of the room. The television was looping through recent articles and photo essays.

  Noelani quickly grabbed a seat next to her friend Rachel Nakamoto. Rachel tapped her watch, raising an eyebrow. Noelani mouthed to her silently, I know. Bill was discussing something about last month’s special report.

  “—climate change and renewable energy in Hawaii, and the feedback has been fantastic. Great job, everyone.”

  He paused after Noelani sat down.

  “Oh, good. Our intern decided not to quit after all.”

  The rest of the team laughed and Noelani bowed her head, her face burning.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said to everyone.

  Civil Beat’s white haired editor in chief was a former war correspondent in his late sixties. He was fond of aloha shirts and his skin was so tan it should be checked for skin cancer. He was usually easy-going but got feisty when it came to public mismanagement and government corruption. He had also taken a chance on Noelani over hundreds of intern applicants from across the country. The last thing she wanted was to disappoint him.

  “You just got yourself coffee duty for a month, kid,” Bill said and winked. “As I was saying…”

  Noelani forced a smile and pulled out her laptop to take notes as she scoped out the room. There were beat reporters, editors, photographers, and interns like her and Rachel. Bill began discussing the next special report on the calendar.

  “We’re going to take a closer look at the homeless situation,” he said. “More specifically, the shrinking homeless population. That should be good news, of course, but nobody knows what’s going on. What’d you guys think?”

  The room was quiet until one of the beat reporters, Nick McVay, spoke up. “A homeless group pooled their change and won the lottery?”

  The room erupted in a collective groan. There was no state lottery in Hawaii, but Noelani had often thought about this. She got Nick’s attention.

  “Maybe there should be a lottery. It could bring in millions in revenue for schools, roads, and social programs, but it never gets any attention. Maybe we can do an article on that sometime.”

  “People would spend all their money on scratch tickets and we’d end up with more homeless,” Nick countered.

  That earned him a few chuckles and nods. She doubted people would gamble themselves broke, but then again, she knew firsthand what addiction did to some people. The more likely reason had to do with Hawaii being old-fashioned and holding traditional values of faith and family at its core. But those values weren’t fixing Hawaii’s problems.

  Civil Beat’s staff photographer, Evan Taylor, cleared his throat and caught Noelani’s eye. She felt her face go warm again and her eyes flicked away. Evan liked conspiracies and spreading rumors, including one about himself that he was a hacker. He had a little bad boy in him, someone Noelani wouldn’t mind getting to knowing better.

  “Seriously, though,” he said. “Has anyone seen all the flyers around town for missing people? They’re all over Chinatown and Kaka’ako. Something is going on, man.”

  “Who puts up flyers for homeless people?” Nick asked.

  “I’m not saying they’re all homeless, okay?” Evan said. “But I don’t know. Maybe there’s a connection.”

  Noelani felt a few sets of eyes glance her way. The entire Civil Beat staff had eventually learned about Nathan’s disappearance. They rallied around her like their own ohana, but speaking of missing people made for an awkward moment.

  Bill rubbed his beard, as if considering possible editorial angles, and then glanced at his watch.

  “Well, that’s what I want us to find out,” he said. “Just what is going on? Nobody seems to know, nobody cares, or quite possibly, someone’s hiding something from the public. If so, it’s up to us to find out and expose the bastards.”

  Bill jabbed a finger into the air for emphasis, drawing a few laughs.

  “Anyway, think about it,” he said. “We’ll be assigning teams soon. If you have some ideas you want to chase down, run it by me. Let’s get to work.”

  The meeting ended, and the team got up to leave. Rachel leaned over to say something but was interrupted by Bill.

  “Oh, Noelani, can you stick around? I’d like to have a word.”

  He was gazing at her sternly beneath his bushy gray eyebrows. Great. She was going to get yelled at for being late. Probably lose her internship, too. Today was shaping up to be an awesome day.

  “Sure. Be glad to.”

  “I’ll wait for you outside, troublemaker,” Rachel whispered.

  Noelani put her laptop away, realizing she hadn’t even turned it on. By the time she approached Bill, the conference room had emptied out. The sun streamed through the windows, warming her skin. The AC was always too damned cold in that room.

  “I’m really sorry for being late, Bill. I—”

  He waved her off and, sighing heavily, nearly collapsed into a chair. He pointed to another one close by.

  “Grab a seat. I’m getting too old to be yapping my mouth and standing around all day.”

  She pulled up a chair and sat.

  “Few things,” he said. “First, you’re fired.”

  Noelani’s mouth dropped open.

  “Just kidding. Shit happens. Just don’t make a habit of it. Pros always make their deadlines and they’re always on time. Be punctual, kid. None of this island time business, okay?”

  Noelani nodded, nearly passing out from relief.

  “Second, nice work on the education article. I only made a first pass so far but it lo
oks good. Probably just a couple small revisions here and there.”

  “Oh, thanks.”

  “Last thing is about this special report on the homeless. I didn’t want to plant any theories in Evan’s head—he doesn’t need my help—but a missing person’s angle might be needed. You okay with that?”

  So that was what this was about: her missing brother. Noelani went from terrified of being fired to feeling her emotional rock wall going up. It was a defensive mechanism that only her mother could breach: Did you find your brother? Bill tilted his head.

  “Are you okay with that, Noelani?” he repeated.

  “Yes, sorry. I didn’t sleep well. That’s why I was late.”

  “Must have been a great party.”

  Noelani smiled and tried not to laugh. She trusted him.

  “I’m more than okay with it. I know you heard about my brother… I appreciate you asking first.”

  Bill studied her closely. He had light blue eyes that were pink around the edges. They must have seen untold pain and suffering from the wars he covered in his youth, but a sparkle of kindness remained.

  “Well, doesn’t sound like the police have been much help, have they? But I’ll only put you on this assignment under one condition. Keep your objective point of view. When things get personal, it can blur your judgment and make your writing subjective. That’s how we end up with alternative facts, fake news, and all that bullshit. I know you’re better than that. What I’m trying to say is you have to keep your emotional distance. That can be hard if you find something painful. As they say, the truth hurts.”

  While Bill was relying on her, and his trust meant a lot, Noelani knew what he was thinking. With missing family of her own, she would explore every angle and no rock would go uncovered.

  “I understand, Bill. I’ll do my best.”

  He winked at her. “I know you will, kid. Now get out there and find some trouble to write about.”

  NINE

  Jake sat up in bed, breathing hard, his body slick with sweat. Another damn nightmare—a new one he couldn’t shake off. Koa’s eyes had turned white and unseeing. But dogs relied on their noses like sharks, and he could smell Jake and was ready to feed. Foam dripped from Koa’s teeth and his metal claws clicked along the floor. An unholy sound escaped his dog’s throat just as—

  A light turned on. Needles of pain stabbed Jake’s eyes. He held up a hand as a shield until his sight adjusted and he recognized his surroundings. He was in the dog handler quarters inside the kennel complex.

  “Oh, hi,” a cheerful voice said.

  Jake’s head whipped to his right. A huge, dark-skinned man lay in the bed across the room. His hand was near a light switch on the wall. He had no shirt on.

  Jake recognized him.

  “You’re the decoy I saw yesterday.”

  “Yes! I’m Keahi, but I go by Ahi, like the fish. You must be Jake.”

  Ahi sat up in bed. He had flabby man boobs and his upper chest and arms were covered in Polynesian tribal tattoos. He reminded Jake of a giant teddy bear warrior. He guessed they were around the same age.

  “Yeah,” Jake said. “Koa’s trainer.”

  “You were snoring really loud when I came in last night. I heard you came from the mainland. It must have been a long day for you.”

  Jake tried to rub the sleep from his eyes as his mind raced through yesterday’s events. Dr. Montoya had treated his bite after he woke up. There was still a small welt on his arm from the impact of the tranquilizer gun. What the hell was Levski thinking?

  “Yeah, you could say that,” Jake said.

  He had spent the rest of the day in a lounge chair while reading Koa’s medical records—at least whatever wasn’t redacted, which only raised more questions about what kind of program was. It still didn’t make any sense.

  Although Koa was alive, seeing him augmented like that made Jake leery. But after the day’s events and a three-hour time difference, he finally passed out. At least Ahi seemed like a nice guy so far.

  “Oh, I heard you got bit yesterday,” he said. “Are you okay?”

  Jake yanked his blanket off and examined his foot. There were red marks and bruises on the skin, but no swelling. His shoes had absorbed most of the damage, and X-rays were negative. His foot was sore, but he could flex his toes.

  “I’ve had worse.”

  “I’m sure Koa didn’t mean to hurt you. He was probably just scared.”

  “He wasn’t the only one. I’ve seen him mad before, but that was another level.”

  Yesterday he let his emotions get the best of him. He couldn’t believe he was seeing Koa again. Then he got careless and it put him on the receiving end of Koa’s canines. It wasn’t Koa’s fault; he had every right to be guarded and upset. After so much time apart and all that Koa had been through, Jake walked right into his territory like a big juicy steak. What was he expecting? Wet, sloppy kisses? Jake decided to change the subject.

  “What time is it, anyway?”

  Ahi checked the small clock on his nightstand.

  “Almost five. Oh-four forty-seven to be exact. I’m still learning military time, but the early morning hours are easy. You just put a zero in front until 9:00 a.m. After noon, it gets tricky. You have to add or subtract—”

  “Look, I know how to tell military time. I was just asking.”

  Jake was still half asleep, and it took him a while to realize Ahi was slow or mentally handicapped—whatever the politically correct term was these days. Kids back in school had used all kinds of mean names for the special education students and it always pissed Jake off.

  “Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to bark at you.”

  “That’s okay. I can see you’re tired. You can go back to sleep if you want.”

  Sleep. Images from the nightmare flashed before Jake’s eyes. He shook his head.

  “I’m done sleeping. My body clock’s still on west coast time, anyway.”

  The plan for today was a morning briefing, but that wasn’t until 0800. He wanted to see Koa and to let him outside for a run, but after the incident yesterday, he thought it best to wait. He would learn about the mission and then create a training plan based on those requirements. Although he was only here to help with Koa’s PTSD, he could try using specific scenarios that might help the mission. Dogs, like humans, learned best by repeated association.

  Jake massaged his foot as he looked around the room. Two bunks on either side, small bedside tables, a couple wardrobe cabinets. Outside their room was a computer station and lounge area, a bathroom, and extra storage. There was also a small exam room and grooming area that Jake planned to use with Koa often. Keeping his dog clean was not only important but also a good trust-building exercise. They weren’t quite there yet.

  He recalled Geddon offering him a private room in the admin building, but Jake declined. He wanted to get reacquainted to the sparse living conditions and mindset of an enlisted dog handler. Everything here either had a purpose or didn’t exist. The adjustment wouldn’t be too hard; it reminded him of his apartment back in Seattle. Despite the rocky start, Jake was happy. He had found his new reason why.

  “Where are Cooper and Harding staying at?” Jake asked.

  “They stay in the admin building with Colonel Geddon. Everyone who has family lives off-site.”

  “What about you? You look like you’re from around here. Don’t you have any family?”

  Ahi looked at the floor and shook his head.

  “No. It’s better if I stay here. But you don’t have to. I bet you can stay in the admin building, too, with Colonel Geddon.”

  Ahi seemed to be saying that staying here with him was below Jake’s status. Jake didn’t see it that way.

  “It’s fine, Ahi. I don’t mind staying here and I’ll try not to snore. It’s perfect except for one thing. Where’s the coffee at?”

  TEN

  Geddon arrived at the conference room long before the briefing began. He’d come early to gather his thought
s and visualize how he wanted the briefing to go down. The room’s tinted windows looked out over the training field. Lost in his thoughts, he watched the sun creep over the edge of Diamond Head crater and chase away the morning shadows. If only the sun could erase the shadows in his mind—memories of what was lost but would soon be avenged, he reminded himself.

  Just as Geddon was logging into his laptop, Dr. Levski, appearing distraught, came in and parked himself on the other side of the table. Long before joining the Landshark program, Levski had been a pioneer in animal organ and dog head transplants from the former Soviet Union. With some of his experiments ending with ghastly, nightmarish results, a traumatized look in the man’s eye was nothing new.

  “Just came from lab,” Levski said. “We have problem.”

  “Christ, what now Vladi—”

  “Morning, guys.”

  Decker walked in with a coffee cup in his hand. It was 0800 sharp. Geddon noticed the hitch in his step from the IED before, but it was worse after Koa damn near bit his foot off. Geddon was having second thoughts about this guy already.

  “There he is,” Geddon said. “How’d you sleep, Decker? Hope you found the chow hall.”

  Decker spotted the coffee maker on the credenza in the corner of the room. He poured himself a refill.

  “Yes, sir. I met Ahi this morning, too. Nice guy.”

  Keahi had been a desperate, last-minute replacement for their previous decoy, who Koa had put in the hospital. Ahi wasn’t too bright, but it didn’t take a genius to be a running chew toy.

  “Outstanding. How’s the foot?”

  “Sore, but whatever Dr. Montoya gave me did the trick.”

  Decker panned the rest of the room.

  “She’s not joining us?”

  Geddon tried not to grimace. He took a chance by bringing Montoya onto the team. The Landshark program required a world-class veterinarian, but she was giving him cause for concern and had to be watched.