Landshark

by Brian Tormanen

  The program had been emotionally tough, but at least she could minimize the dogs suffering. After yet another augmentation was rejected by the dog’s immune system, putting them down was an act of mercy. She had grown numb to it—at least she thought so—until she went into the tunnels that day and heard... ungodly sounds.

  “Colonel, if this is about—”

  Geddon raised his hand.

  “If I bring the wrong person onto this team, it’s like building a house of cards and putting the wrong one on the wrong spot at the wrong time. When it falls, it takes everything down with it.”

  Geddon spoke slowly, and her skin grew cold as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. He continued.

  “Has anyone told you about your predecessor? Dr. Hammond?”

  “No,” she replied, dread rising in her chest.

  “Great doctor. I trusted her, but I misjudged her character. She wasn’t as strong as I thought she was. Started making phone calls and sending emails to the wrong people. The kind that could put our program, and ultimately our country, at risk.”

  Geddon’s eyes became haunted and vacant, as if he was looking right through her. The hair stood up on the back of her neck.

  “I’d hate to see—”

  Her door suddenly opened and Cooper walked in, shutting the door behind him. Montoya’s heart rate skyrocketed.

  “Jesus, Cooper. What do you want?”

  “Don’t worry,” he said, holding up his hand. “You didn’t let me finish back there.”

  “Anyone teach you to knock?”

  “Nope. Not where I’m from.”

  Wearing that sheepish smile she despised, he approached her desk, pulled up a chair, and sat across from her. A bonsai pot of lucky bamboo was blocking his view of her, so he slid it aside.

  “Came to talk to you ’bout a couple things. Work-related, of course.”

  She rolled her eyes and groaned inside.

  “We finished our discussion in the exam room.”

  “This is a different one. You gonna let me finish?”

  She exhaled impatiently.

  “What can I do for you, Cooper?”

  He smiled and leaned forward in his chair.

  “You know as well as I do we’re gonna be wrappin’ things up soon. After we take care of business over there, there’s gonna be lots of opportunities I plan to take advantage of. Thought you might like to get in on it.”

  There was nothing on this earth or in this lifetime she’d be interested in getting in on with Cooper. At least, with only two dogs left, the program—this living nightmare—would be over soon but not soon enough.

  The longer she stayed, the more she worried she was becoming like Geddon and the rest of them: a cold, soulless monster that followed instructions like a well-trained dog. An irritated glare was her only reply to Cooper’s suggested offer.

  “I’m glad you asked,” he said. “See, after I get back, I’m gonna open my own training academy for MWDs and K9s. It’s gonna be huge and I want a veterinarian, like yourself, who specializes in those kinds of breeds. You open your own veterinarian practice nearby and your business will take off from the referrals I’ll send you.”

  Montoya relaxed. Cooper wasn’t going to harm her—he was merely being delusional. She leaned back, adopting a contemplative posture. After a moment, she leaned forward again.

  “Cooper, I want to make myself clear so there’s no misunderstanding. After this project is done, I’m getting far, far away from here and will never return. The very last thing I want to do is see you ever again—or anyone associated with this project. My answer is no, and my decision is final. How’s that for an answer?”

  Cooper’s jaw flexed and his eyes hardened.

  “Alright, fine then. Your loss.”

  “Oh, I’ll take that as a big win for sure. You said there were two things—work-related—you wanted to talk about?”

  Cooper crossed his arms. He appeared ready to move on.

  “Yeah, ’bout Gimpy, Koa’s handler.”

  “You mean Jake Decker.”

  “Right. I heard his rendezvous with Koa didn’t go so hot. What was your take on that?”

  “Well, it was hardly surprising. Koa has been through a lot, before and after the IED. I think it’s quite natural he’s exhibiting the aggression he is as a defense mechanism. I think Jake has his work cut out for him, but his love and dedication for his dog is undeniable. I think Koa will make a full recovery. In time.”

  “I guess that’s what I was tryin’ to ask: if Gimpy—this Decker guy—can get Koa ready quick enough. ’Cause I keep hearin’ we’re movin’ soon with or without him. Personally, I don’t think there’s a chance in hell that dog can be used as an MWD again.”

  “Well, you have Odin as backup. Isn’t that what you were hoping for? That they would fail and you could take Odin in his place?”

  “Yeah, but things changed a bit. Whichever dog goes over there ain’t comin’ back, see? Workin’ with Odin a while, I’ve grown attached. That boy’s somethin’ special.”

  Montoya raised an eyebrow. She knew the operational plan would be a one-way trip for the lucky dog. The idea was reprehensible and she wanted to warn Jake about Koa, but there would be severe consequences if she did. She refocused on Cooper in front of her, wishing he would just leave.

  “So you actually do care about Odin,” she said. “Wow, that’s so… human of you, Cooper.”

  “I am human, Beth. I got feelings like anybody else. I been stuck on this rock spendin’ all my time around dogs, or with guys who only talk about dogs. All I know is dogs. You know what I’m sayin’?”

  “Not quite, but if you don’t mind, I do have more work to do.”

  “Well, let me make myself clear, then. I was hopin’ we could go out sometime. Grab a drink or somethin’. I know a good place in town, ocean view and palm trees. You’ll love it.”

  “Absolutely not, Cooper.”

  Montoya hoped he wouldn’t cause a scene or attempt anything worse. He continued to sit there, pouting. She stood up to show him the meeting was over.

  “Please don’t make me call security, Cooper. If Geddon finds out, it might jeopardize your big future plans.”

  Cooper stewed for a moment longer. He slid the bonsai back to the original spot on her desk and stood up. The temperature in her office suddenly felt ten degrees cooler.

  “Ain’t no problem between us, Beth, but I’d be careful what comes out of that pretty little mouth of yours. You might jeopardize more than you think.”

  SIXTEEN

  On Saturday morning Jake awoke early, feeling rested and encouraged by his progress. He’d had two full days to establish a routine, and just like his military days, everything worked best when it ran like clockwork. It was true with dogs and humans. Both were association animals by nature.

  Jake and Ahi took turns using the tiny bathroom, then discussed the day’s schedule. It was the same as yesterday and the day before, with one exception.

  “I’ll take care of Koa’s chow and kennel starting this morning, Ahi.”

  Ahi looked hurt.

  “Okay,” he said, sounding like someone had just taken his toy away. “You don’t need me anymore?”

  “Hey, look, it’s not like that. You’ve been a great help, but I need to do it from now on. If Koa has a problem, he’ll let me know and we’ll work it out. You still have Odin’s kennel to do, right?”

  After Cooper fed and watered Odin, he would take him out for a morning round of fetch. Ahi would have to clean his kennel by the time he got back or he’d get yelled at. Having one dog to worry about would save him some time. Jake was glad to help.

  Ahi’s clapped his hands, his bright smile returning.

  “Oh! That means I’ll have more time to put the bite suit on. Thanks, Jake!”

  After they finished getting ready, they walked outside. The morning air was cool and pleasant and the sky was clear. It would be another punishingly hot day.

 
The handler’s quarters were next to the kennels and connected by a covered walkway. From this spot, Jake had a clear view of a path leading from the admin building to a set of metal double doors carved into the side of the mountain.

  He’d noticed crews going in every morning and leaving in the late afternoon for a shift change. If such a small crew was working on the cleanup, in its third year, they were pretty damned slow. Shouldn’t there be more workers? Where was the urgency? A large biohazard placard was mounted next to the door along with warning signage.

  A tall Asian man was walking toward the doors now. He tapped his badge at a card reader near the entrance, the doors opened, and he casually walked inside. The man didn’t seem too concerned about walking into a contaminated area, Jake thought. He pointed after the man.

  “Hey, Ahi. You ever been inside the tunnels?”

  “Oh, no. I was told not to because it’s really bad for you. See those signs by the door? That means—”

  “I know what they mean, buddy. I was just curious.”

  Yesterday, Jake had heard Geddon and Dr. Levski mention that the cleanup effort was in its final stages. All they were really doing now was testing to ensure it was free of contamination. Jake had no plans to go anywhere near a biohazard, but something about the cleanup operation seemed odd. Whatever they were removing, where were they taking it and how? Whenever Jake had asked about it, he got a cryptic, need-to-know-basis answer in reply.

  Next to the kennels, Cooper already had Odin outside in the leash-free exercise area. It was like a dog park for MWDs, a place where they could be like normal dogs, not robots. They were playing fetch and Odin was barking, telling Cooper to throw the damn ball. Jake was envious. He would do whatever it took to get Koa outside as soon as possible.

  Jake badged them inside the kennel and they got to work. Ahi grabbed a hose and went to Odin’s kennel to hose it down. When Jake got to Koa, he noticed an immediate difference. Instead of resting on his bed, he was up and pacing around his kennel with a panting smile on his face. Koa’s energy had returned.

  “Well, hey there, bud. Looking good! You ready to get back to work?”

  Koa barked once in reply. His prosthetic feet tick-ticked along the floor while he trotted around as if he just placed first in a dog show. It was a damn fine sight to see and Jake’s chest swelled with hope.

  Like he had done the past two days, Jake picked up the food and water bowls outside the kennel and took them to the food station. He refilled them and brought them back, feeling nervous anticipation he couldn’t squash, but had to hide.

  Jake steeled himself before entering the kennel, gauging Koa’s reaction from the corner of his eye. His dog stopped and watched him. Trying to be as casual as possible, Jake replaced the food and water bowls and left the kennel, closing the door behind him.

  “There you go, bud. Bon appétit.”

  Koa went to the bowls and sniffed them, picking up Jake’s scent. Jake recalled dogs having two hundred million scent receptors compared to five for humans. It was no wonder they relied on their noses more than anything.

  It was only for a brief second, but Koa looked at Jake in that old familiar way, as if to say thanks before he took a drink and began eating. Jake smiled. Their first test was successful.

  “For our dessert menu today—”

  The kennel house door slammed open, and Cooper walked in with Odin on his leash. He gave Jake a heads-up nod and went to Odin’s kennel. The dog was panting fast and hard.

  “Hey, retard,” Cooper said. “I want to get some extra bite work in today, so I need you to double-time it outside.”

  “Okay, Cooper. I’m almost done—”

  “Forget it. You should’ve been done already.”

  Jake walked up behind Cooper.

  “I’ll finish it,” he said, surprising everyone.

  Odin snarled and Cooper spun around, yanking his dog back by his leash.

  “Whoa, don’t be sneakin’ up like that.” Cooper smiled, petting Odin. “He do bite.”

  “Hey, Coop, can I talk to you a sec?”

  Cooper threw Jake a nasty look but followed him to the food station. Ahi left to put his bite suit on.

  “Thanks, Jake,” he said on the way out.

  “No problem, buddy.”

  Jake waited for Ahi to shut the door, then turned to Cooper.

  “Hey, what’s with calling Ahi retard all the time? That’s fucked up.”

  Cooper made a sour face.

  “Ah, shit. That’s what this is about? I thought you wanted to talk ’bout somethin’ important. Like dog trainin’ or somethin’. He’s just simple. I don’t mean nothin’ by it.”

  “It’s disrespectful, man. The guy works his ass off for you and he should be treated as an equal.”

  “An equal?” Cooper laughed. “Shit, Decker, where I’m from, if people joke around with you, it means they actually like you. Notice I don’t joke around with you? You strike me as the sensitive type and I don’t want you gettin’ your panties up in a bunch.”

  Jake clenched his teeth. He felt like striking him, alright.

  “All I’m saying is,” he said, “don’t call him that to his face. He has a name. Say whatever you want behind people’s backs—I’m sure a dick like you does a lot of that.”

  Cooper’s smirk faded as he lowered his head.

  “Listen, Gimpy, I got a lot of pull ’round here with Colonel Geddon. You best watch your step, and if I were you, I’d focus on fixin’ that dog of yours before he gets put down.”

  Jake balled a fist and began to swing. Odin lunged, barking and snapping. Jake recoiled as Cooper laughed, pulling Odin back. He gave the dog a signal to shut him up and grinned.

  “Don’t go pressin’ your luck, Decker. See this?”

  Cooper held up his right hand. The palm was pink and shiny with raised, puffy scars. Whatever happened, the burn must have been horribly painful.

  “Still got nerve damage,” he said. “Sometimes, it’s hard to hold onto the leash with him jerkin’ like that. Hate to let go at a bad time. Know what I mean?”

  Cooper turned and led Odin to the door. Before he left, he stopped as if he forgot something.

  “Oh, yeah,” he said. “And hurry the fuck up with my dog’s kennel.”

  Steaming, Jake stood there as the door slammed shut behind them. After taking a few minutes to calm down, he went to Odin’s kennel, picked up the hose, and sprayed the piss and shit stains down the drain.

  After this, ready or not, it was time for Koa’s next test.

  * * *

  After a break, Jake returned to Koa for more quality time. His dog looked up from his bed eagerly. Back so soon? Treats? Jake grabbed a collar and a leash hanging outside the kennel door.

  “Sorry, bud. I don’t have any treats. But if you’re good I’ll steal something for you from the chow hall.”

  Koa was a junk food junkie, but it couldn’t be too rich. Smelly dog farts were bad enough; he didn’t need a wet nasty mess to clean up. Feeling the coarse nylon collar and leash in his hands brought back memories of their deployment.

  Jake and Koa were embedded in eastern Afghanistan as a patrol and detection team for IEDs. Inside the wire and relative safety of the forward operating base, it was time to relax, brush Koa’s coat, and trim his nails. There was always something to do to keep his dog in optimum shape.

  But Koa was too curious to not explore the FOB, and when Jake wasn’t looking, he disappeared among the labyrinth of CHUs—central housing units of the special ops guys, better known as the Green Berets. But these guys weren’t typical trainers and advisors; they were meat eaters, those who went outside the wire to find and kill bad guys. It was best to not piss them off.

  Jake scrambled between the walkways of the CHUs, searching for Koa while yelling out, “Loose dog, loose dog!” That only attracted more attention to himself, making him feel like a total idiot. Koa was nowhere in sight and Jake knew he was going to get a major ass-chewing for letti
ng his dog get loose on the FOB.

  Just as he began to panic from worry, a door from a nearby CHU burst open. Koa came rushing out, followed by the biggest, meanest-looking Green Beret Jake had ever seen. Master Sergeant Brock Tillman.

  “Koa!” Jake yelled.

  Koa ran to him, and Jake hurriedly clipped on his leash. A sense of relief rushed through him—until Tillman marched up. He had a chiseled physique that could have been carved from the nearby rock quarry. Jake even noticed a resemblance to Dwayne The Rock Johnson, especially his scowl that said he was ready to kick some ass. Tillman got in Jake’s face and jabbed a finger at Koa.

  “That your dog, Corporal?”

  Jake swallowed hard.

  “Yes, Master Sergeant.”

  Tillman held up a small mangled box.

  “He ate my fucking Ding Dongs.”

  The torn white cardboard oozed chocolate from chewed-up wrappers inside. Jake gulped. Since anything chocolate could melt easily in the heat, it was hard to keep and even harder to find.

  Jake looked down at Koa. You actually ate that? His dog looked up at him, licked his lips, and looked away. He knew he was in trouble. Yeah, he was guilty, alright.

  “Don’t you feed your dog?” Tillman asked.

  “I… of course I do, Master Sergeant. I’m sorry about this. I’ll get you—”

  “Where the hell you going to find Ding Dongs in fucking Afghanistan? Don’t be making promises out your ass, Corporal. Speaking of that, you better watch your dog that he doesn’t shit all over the place. He shits anywhere near my bunk, I’ll peel your skin off with my knife.”

  Tillman stormed off and barked over his shoulder, “You owe me a box of Ding Dongs!”

  It wasn’t the best way to make introductions, but it was effective. As it turned out, Tillman was fond of Koa, and whenever they were both inside the wire, they joked and traded stories about dogs they had growing up. They developed something of a friendship, but Tillman never let Jake, or Koa, forget about his box of Ding Dongs.

  Now Jake unbuckled the collar and opened Koa’s kennel. He went inside as Koa watched him from his bed.