Landshark

by Brian Tormanen

  Jake caught the change in tone of Geddon’s voice and the manic look in his eye was unmistakable. Something sinister was left unspoken and Jake didn’t like it. Thoughts of Koa’s safety came to mind.

  “Repercussions, sir?”

  Geddon let the question hang in the air like a body with a noose around its neck. Finally, he said, “Legal and financial, of course. I just want to make sure there’s no misunderstanding or you might end up wishing you were dead.”

  Geddon smiled to show he was joking. Or was he? Jake became suddenly aware of how thirsty he was.

  “There’s no misunderstanding, sir.”

  Geddon nodded as if all were forgiven and tapped his finger on the manila folder in front of him.

  “Now, just to show you how much I value loyalty and discretion, I have something I think you’ll be interested in. Inside this folder are adoption papers.”

  Jake’s heart skipped a beat.

  “Koa’s papers? I thought—”

  “The law states all eligible MWDs be made available for adoption—if they’re free of unsuitable medical records and behavioral tendencies. That leaves a lot of room for subjective opinion. But if things go well and there’s no more… undesirable behavior, I’d be glad to sign them.”

  Jake was too excited to speak. He pictured his small apartment back in Seattle. No place for a big dog, but he’d move to the woods and live in a damn tent if he had to.

  “I… I can take him home?”

  “You pull this off, Decker, and I’ll fly you both home on a private fucking jet. I can’t imagine a better place for Koa or a more fitting reward for serving our country. Now maybe you should get the hell out of here. Spend your time with Koa instead of me.”

  Jake sprang out of his chair and was almost out the door—

  “Decker?”

  “Sir?”

  “And stay the fuck out of my tunnels.”

  * * *

  Geddon waited for Decker to leave the conference room and opened the manila folder. It was empty. He didn’t mind lying, because even if Koa did deploy, the chances of him returning alive were zero. And if Koa couldn’t deploy… well, he’d deal with that later.

  Deep in thought, he left the conference room and the admin building, heading for the tunnels. His next fire to put out was to visit Dr. Sato in the BSL-4 lab. According to Dr. Levski, they were still having problems with the titanium teeth. Christ, that was supposed to be the easy part. Titanium caps were nothing new.

  If there were more delays, it wouldn’t go over well with his own handler in Washington. Geddon swiped his badge at the tunnel entrance and waited for the two-ton door’s pressure seals to unlock. There was a loud pfishhhh sound from the airlocks as the door swung open on hydraulic hinges.

  He made his way down D wing of the tunnel and passed the BSL-4 lab’s glass wall. Inside, technicians in pressurized biohazard suits went about their work. The lab was brightly lit with a quad of stainless steel countertops stocked with culture dishes, transfer pipettes, electron microscopes, and centrifuges. Along the far wall were bio-safety cabinets flanking a large DNA sequencer—Dr. Sato’s pride and joy.

  They had studied the most dangerous pathogens known to man here: Ebola, Marburg, and now their own homemade virus, Z9/11, yet Geddon wasn’t too worried. Separate filtration systems and redundant airlocks were in place. No expense had been spared in the construction of the hidden facility. If there was anything that made Geddon nervous, it was the SAFETY FIRST sign next to a yellow biohazard symbol by the lab entrance. It almost seemed to be inviting trouble.

  Geddon knocked on the door to Dr. Sato’s office next to the lab. The door whipped open and the Japanese American doctor stood there in his white lab coat. He let Geddon in without a word and sat behind his desk. Coffee-stained papers were scattered on top and what couldn’t fit was stacked on the floor. The wastebasket was overflowing and the office smelled like a moldy fast food joint. As a military man, Geddon found it disgusting but he didn’t hire Sato for his housekeeping habits.

  “Sato-san,” Geddon said, grabbing a chair.

  “You wanted to see me, Colonel?” Sato made a show of looking at his watch.

  While he was a brilliant microbiologist, Sato still had the smug attitude of a university professor. If it wasn’t for his expertise on viral mutation and airborne pathogens, Geddon wouldn’t put up with his shit. But after reading his manifesto about a Darwinian outbreak to weed out undesirables, Geddon realized he’d found the man he’d been looking for.

  “Levski said you guys are still having issues with the viral membrane. What’s going on?”

  Sato rolled his eyes. Geddon knew Sato had an easily bruised ego, but he was feeling less patient these days and didn’t give a shit. There was too much at stake.

  “Dr. Levski’s overreacting as usual, Colonel. There’s no problem with the membrane liner. It’s as good as it can possibly be. The problem is still with the teeth and fitting, and that’s being handled by Levski’s team. To rectify that, they’ll have to make the caps thicker. There’s no other way.”

  Geddon rubbed his face, realizing he needed a shave and some sleep.

  “Another design change, Doc? What’s the ETA now?”

  “Fabrication’s already working on the new spec. After they program the milling machine, another day, maybe two.”

  Geddon felt impatience growing inside him like a tumor. First Koa and now this. After millions of dollars on resources, they were still dicking around with dental work? Christ, he should have hired a real dentist.

  “Alright, I want to see that we’re still on the same page. Show me.”

  Sato went to the whiteboard and grabbed a blue dry erase pen. He drew two narrow triangles, one inside the other.

  “Forgive my crude diagram. This is our dual-layered canine cap, yeah? The virus is held in the reservoir in this gap between them. Now, you recall that a dog’s bite is over two hundred PSI, roughly twice that of a human’s?”

  “Yeah,” Geddon said. “Go on.”

  “During our trials, the protective membrane broke because the outer wall was too thin. When the dog bit into our test subject, it not only secreted the virus through the canines; it crushed the protective liner inside, infecting the dog as well.”

  “I’m aware of that, Doc. What are you guys doing about it?”

  Sato stared at Geddon like a misbehaving student in the back of the lecture hall. He cleared his throat and returned to the whiteboard.

  “Yes, I was getting to that. We’re adding more thickness to the caps along the gumline. As long as there’s a proper fit, we won’t risk infecting the dog. When the dog bites at full force, the payload will be delivered and there’ll be less friction to the protective liner inside.”

  “And you’re sure that’s going to work? We don’t need another psychotic dog incident.”

  Geddon recalled the Dutch shepherd that got infected during an early test and went berserk. It took every bullet from a security guard’s gun to put the dog down.

  Sato snapped the cap back on his pen. “They’re titanium alloy caps. Nothing new and nothing to worry about, Colonel. Now, we could do another live test if you like, but as you know, we’re down to our last two dogs.”

  Geddon pondered that. Odin was their only backup in case Decker didn’t get Koa ready in time. They couldn’t risk it. Hell, if the teeth weren’t stable by now, they’d just have to deploy anyway.

  “No,” he said. “If you guys don’t get it right this time, we’ll slap a muzzle on the dog until we cut him loose. No more changes, got it?”

  Sato gave Geddon a thin, snake-like smile. “Absolutely, Colonel. I’m confident this will be the last change we’ll ever make.”

  Geddon nodded, but still felt uneasy. Something was grinding his gears and he couldn’t put his finger on it. Too much stress and a lack of sleep was getting to him.

  “Viral levels?” he asked.

  Sato returned to his desk and sat in his chair. He lo
gged into his pc and pulled a chart up on his monitor.

  “Still stable. No need to alter the injection load. However, once transmission occurs, the incubation period still depends on the host. Younger subjects have taken hours, even days to react. I’m confident I can shorten the latency, but I’ll need to run more tests...”

  Geddon frowned. There used to be no shortage of available resources in the streets and parks of Honolulu, but they had thinned them out. Then he recalled driving by the park the other day with Decker. There should be new inventory by now.

  “Reach out to our contact at HPD and make arrangements.”

  NINETEEN

  Jake hurried back to the handler’s quarters. He was beyond excited at the prospect of taking Koa home, but he quickly tempered those thoughts by remembering how risky the mission was. Would a SEAL extraction team really go in after a dog? With the kind of tech invested in Koa, he thought it was likely, and if nothing else, it was a good excuse to kill more bad guys. For now, he reminded himself, all he could do was focus on what was under his control. And that was what he came for.

  He badged himself in and passed the tack room. Bite suits and sleeves hung on the wall. In the corner of the lounge area, Ahi sat moping in a lounge chair. The lights were off, and Ahi’s face was as gloomy as the room.

  “Howzit?” Jake asked.

  Ahi shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

  Jake went to their room to get what he came for. He grabbed his backpack off the floor and dug inside. After a few panicked seconds, he found it wrapped in plastic in a bottom compartment. He returned to the lounge and sat on the couch, facing Ahi.

  “What’s with the long face, man?”

  Ahi sighed. “Cooper keeps yelling at me and calling me names. Whatever I do, it’s never good enough. Harding yells at me, too, but not as much as Cooper.”

  Jake tensed, feeling his pulse rise. Cooper needed a serious ass whipping. Because of Ahi’s mental handicap, he was nothing if not kind and innocent, reminding Jake of a good dog. All they wanted was to make people happy. Despite Ahi’s size, there wasn’t a mean bone in his body. That was a good thing, since he could probably crush a man’s skull like a grape. But anger seemed foreign to Ahi, and Jake envied him for it.

  “Hey,” Jake said. “I got an idea.”

  Ahi looked up.

  “Why don’t you just work with me from now on? Full time, starting tomorrow.”

  Ahi’s face lit up.

  “Really? With you and Koa?”

  Jake had no idea what they would do until he got Koa responding again, but he’d figure something out.

  “That’s right. You’re one of the best decoys I’ve ever seen, Ahi. You give the dog a nice big target. They love that. Far as Cooper goes, fuck that guy. He’s got Harding to help him out. Since Cooper’s got a partner, you can be mine.”

  “Whoa, that would be cool, Jake. And Colonel Geddon won’t get mad?”

  “I’ll talk to Geddon. Don’t worry about it. But if Cooper gives you any shit, you tell me, okay? I’ll have another talk with him.”

  And this time I’ll let my fists do the talking.

  Ahi stood from his chair and Jake had to crane his neck to look up. The gentle giant towered over him and was nearly twice as wide.

  “That sounds great, Jake. Thank you so much!”

  Jake stood and reached out his cupped hand for a bro-shake. Ahi pulled him into an embrace and slapped his back, nearly knocking the wind out of him.

  “Alright, okay,” Jake said, choking. “We’ll talk more later.”

  Ahi noticed the bandage on Jake’s wrist and pointed.

  “Oh, ow. Did you get hurt?”

  “It’s nothing. Occupational hazard. We’ll catch up later after chow, okay? Gotta run.”

  “Okay, bye!”

  * * *

  Jake left their quarters and badged himself into the kennel house. Koa was relaxing on his bed. He perked his head up at seeing Jake, then put it down as if he were in trouble. Jake held up his bandaged left wrist. He pointed at it, then back to Koa.

  “Yeah, you did this. Thanks a lot, bud.”

  Jake turned his left hand, wincing from the throbbing pain, to show Koa the bite scar on his hand.

  “And this, too. Remember this one? What do you have against my left hand? What’s it ever done but feed and pet you, huh?”

  Koa looked away remorsefully, the way dogs did when they knew they were being scolded. Fuck it, Jake thought. The damage was done, and they had to keep moving forward. He opened the kennel and went inside, closing the gate behind him.

  Koa remained on his bed as Jake sat on the floor opposite him, propping his back against the chain-link fencing.

  “You know, bud, something tells me we don’t have a lot of time. We’re gonna have to be a team again. I promise I would never hurt you. I’ll do whatever it takes to bring you home, but you’re gonna have to trust me.”

  Koa tilted his head toward Jake, his big pointed ears twitching as he listened. Jake reached into the pocket of his cargo pants and pulled out Koa’s red Kong. The chew toy had so many dimpled teeth marks that it looked like a used shotgun target.

  Koa’s head jumped up, ears erect. Huh, is that what I think it is?

  While playtime was often with tennis balls, and pieces of kibble and praise were used for basic training, MWDs and their Kongs had a special relationship. Jake couldn’t understand it, but they just went crazy for that Kong.

  “Oh, you remember this, don’t you?”

  Jake began tossing the Kong up into the air and catching it. Koa’s head moved up and down, tracking its flight. The dog licked his lips.

  “Yep,” Jake said. “At the end of a long, hard day, it feels good to just kick back and have an ice-cold rubber Kong.”

  Jake licked the toy and bit into it. The sponginess was like biting into a giant pencil eraser. Jake tossed it into the air some more. Koa stood up and stretched.

  “Oh, now you want to play?”

  Koa left his bed and came closer.

  “Remember, you only get the Kong after you earn it. You have to work for this, boy.”

  Jake recalled the times he rewarded Koa for finding an IED or hidden weapons cache. Once Koa detected the scent cone and tracked it to the saturation point, only then would he would get his Kong. New environments had new smells, confusing to a detection dog. Jake had to acclimate Koa by hiding objects laced with RDX, an explosive chemical, around the base. It wouldn’t take Koa long to adjust, but that was the only other time he would get to have his Kong.

  Jake caught the Kong and set it on the floor next to him. Koa eyeballed it but didn’t come any closer. Jake arched his eyebrows.

  “Well, you’re gonna have to come and get it.”

  Koa took a few apprehensive steps and stopped. He looked away as if there were more interesting things to see in his eight-by-ten-foot kennel. Jake began whistling casually, avoiding eye contact.

  Koa took a few more steps and sat. He was only a few feet away. Jake grabbed his Kong and moved it a few inches closer to Koa but within easy reach. Then Koa lay on the floor, his metal legs pointing at Jake like aluminum baseball bats.

  “Well, come and get it, then, if you want it so bad.”

  Jake moved the Kong closer. Koa scooted forward on his belly, eager desire written all over his black and tan face. Must have the Kong! He scooted closer and reached for the Kong with his long black snout. Jake snatched it back.

  “Oh no, too slow!”

  Koa barked. Not an angry bark, but one that said, Hey, that was mine, asshole! Jake shook his head.

  “You’re gonna have to do better than that, bud.”

  Jake set it back down and the game continued. It was one of their favorites they used to play. Jake would grab a ball or a rolled-up sock and they’d play snatch or hide-and-seek. Jake would almost die laughing when he watched Koa go apeshit trying to find it.

  Koa looked at Jake then down at the Kong. Jake slowly reached his hand for
the toy, giving Koa a chance. He took it. Snatching the Kong from Jake’s grip, he jumped up and scrambled off, prancing around the kennel with happy feet.

  “Hey, don’t get all cocky now. We’re even.”

  Reunited with this long-lost love toy, Koa was doing his best to chew the thing in half. But eventually, as Jake hoped he would, Koa brought it back. It wasn’t going to fly or run by itself, but he wasn’t about to let it go.

  Jake pointed at the floor. “Aus.” Drop it.

  Koa began to move away.

  “Ack!”

  Koa turned to face him, the toy stuck in his mouth. Then he tilted his head as if to ask, You talking to me?

  Jake pointed to the ground again. “Aus!”

  Koa dropped it. The Kong rolled toward Jake and he picked it up, grinning like an idiot.

  “Good boy!”

  Jake tossed the Kong to the other side of the kennel and Koa scrambled after it. He retrieved and dropped it when told. Jake praised him, and threw the Kong again. He lost track of how long they played. It didn’t matter. Jake loved every damn minute of it.

  After a while, Koa began to tire out and Jake fetched him a fresh bowl of water. Koa drank sloppily, splashing water all over the floor. Koa picked his Kong up and Jake expected he’d take it back to his bed.

  Instead, he came and sat next to Jake and dropped the toy in his lap.

  Jake reached out to pet Koa and Koa let him. He ran his hand over the short soft hair on Koa’s head and down the long, thicker hair around his neck. Jake inspected Koa’s ear, seeing the small, mole-like receiver embedded like a micro-chip. It didn’t seem to bother Koa and the rest of the ear cavity looked clean.

  Jake sniffed his hand and cringed. “Damn, dude. You need a bath.”

  TWENTY

  It was late Saturday night and Noelani was glued to the computer screen in her room. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she typed and searched. A burning desire had been rekindled, and she was on the trail for answers—or at least for missing clues regarding Nathan’s disappearance.

  After they left the park yesterday, Rachel and Evan could tell something was bothering her. They stopped at Honolulu Beerworks to buy her a drink. Noelani opened up and told them about how Diamond Head was the last place Nathan was seen before he vanished. Rachel almost cried and they both promised to do anything to help. Noelani appreciated their offer but preferred to focus on what she could do: finding answers to the questions keeping her up at night. Maybe she had missed something.