Trinity: Military War Dog

by Ronie Kendig

  Scooting up, she seemed to draw on the last of her courage. “I don’t know how she knew, but she knew. And she was so good and fast.” Her eyes widened as her gaze met his. “Holy cow, that girl was so fast—like she had skills.“

  He wanted to laugh. “Who?”

  “Jia. Jia Kintz.” Animated, Alice related the story of Jia rushing into the camp. “She had this little girl with her, and I was stunned. We all were, in fact. Okay, maybe not the professor. He seemed annoyed, but then again, he was always annoyed. Anyway, she was bleeding—”

  “Who was bleeding?”

  “Jia. But she wouldn’t slow down to let anyone look at it.” Alice brushed the hair from her face. “She told us all to get packed up. She gave me the girl, and I got her cleaned up and put a warm jacket on her—that’s when I saw all the blood. I realized it was from Jia, so I went to our tent—and there they were. Locked in a gun battle.”

  Alarms shrieked through his mind. “Who?”

  “Jia and Toque. They both had guns—I have no idea where they got guns. It made no sense.”

  “Did he shoot her?” Lance tried to remember what the dossier said about Peter Toque, but it was like trying to find a pea in the dark.

  “No. I … I don’t think so.” She covered her mouth. “Wow, I hope not. I mean, he could’ve, I guess. He was up with her. They’d come back to camp together.”

  “Where had they been?”

  Alice shrugged. “Don’t know. Jia was always going off on her own. She said it helped her clear her mind.”

  More like clear an area. She’d been working. As always.

  “That’s when the chopper showed up. Everything went crazy from there. Jia sprinted between two tents, and I was so scared I followed her. We went into the tunnels.” She explained how they’d stayed there overnight, trekking and stopping for rests only when necessary, and how Jia had this shoulder wound …

  “How did you escape and get down that mountain to the base?”

  Once again, tears pooled in her eyes. “Jia.” One loosened itself and streaked down her face. “She said she would distract them, then join us, but …” Hands to her face, she collapsed into tears.

  Lance pushed to his feet. He didn’t need the young woman to tell him what happened. Experience, integrity spoke for itself.

  Darci sacrificed herself.

  He almost couldn’t bring himself to ask the final question. “Do you know if she was alive?”

  Face still buried, she shook her head. “I don’t know.” She lifted her tear-streaked face. “I don’t know … I heard shouts and gunshots and screams … and I ran. Ran as fast as I could with the girl.” She shuddered. “I should’ve stayed. Should’ve made sure she was safe, right? I mean, what kind of person does that? Leaves another—”

  Lance nodded to Otte who sat beside the woman, a hand on her twittering hands, and reassured her that she’d done the right thing. That it was a smart move.

  Stepping into the hall, Lance left behind the somber, smooth voice of Otte trying to coax the woman out of her sodden grief.

  One thing was clear: Jia had found something up there. And someone didn’t want her to tell the tale. If she’d had time to alert the team to pack up and get to safety—wait.

  The child.

  Lance stalked to the preview room where he thrust into it. “Zeferelli.”

  The man snapped to attention and saluted.

  “Where’s the girl?”

  “In interview room—”

  “No, the little girl. The Afghan. Get her for me.”

  Fifteen minutes later, the lieutenant lumbered back in with the girl and an older Afghan woman. A few minutes of discussion with the older woman and child armed Lance with a nugget of gold. Together, the four of them walked down the hall, the girl clinging to Lance’s hand. Reminded him of his granddaughter back home, a few years younger, and Carrie had blond hair.

  They stepped into interview room six.

  Badria was a half step behind him. When she swung around to the front, she saw the man hunched at the table and threw herself back. Terror’s greedy claws stabbed her innocent face. She screamed.

  Lance nodded to the lieutenant.

  Zeferelli lifted the shrieking, crying child and carried her out of the room.

  “Explain that to me.” Lance sat back in a folding chair, metal digging into his back. He lifted his ankle and placed it on his knee. Casual and looking comfortable.

  Colonel Zheng’s face remained impassive. Implacable.

  “Imagine that.” Lance straightened and folded his hands on the table. “A little girl, found in an Afghan village, goes into terror fits when she sees you.” He slid a piece of sugar-free gum into his mouth. “Wonder what that means.”

  “That she is a little girl who should not be used as a pawn in games of war.”

  “A pawn?” Lance pursed his lips. “I’m not the one who made her a pawn. Someone who murdered everyone in her village made her a pawn.”

  Quick as a bolt of lightning, an expression zapped through Haur’s face.

  “Now, I wonder—”

  Two knocks on the metal door.

  The signal. Lance went to the door and opened it.

  “Sir,” Otte said. “She’s awake.”

  “Ah. Good.” He looked to Zheng, hoping to make the man sweat. “I’ll be right back.”

  Door secured, he strode down the hall.

  “When you mentioned that village, Zheng’s thermals went through the roof.”

  He didn’t need thermals to tell him that story worried Zheng. They both had full knowledge that Wu Jianyu was the devil himself.

  And knowing that man was in this area …

  Knowing he had a bloodthirsty vengeance against a young woman named Meixiang …

  Who was Darci Kintz …

  The connections and secrets were as vast as the mountains containing the greatest drama of his life.

  It was time for some cooperative effort.

  On his knees, eyes closed, Haur trained his mind to quiet.

  Two decades.

  Thousands of compromises.

  Millions of words.

  Quiet.

  There on the precipice before him, he sensed the winds shift. Change. The course would be altered. This journey, this determination to be relentless, would bring him something far greater than he could imagine.

  Would he be free? Finally?

  It was a vain and selfish hope. He chided himself for the thought. There were things far greater …

  Palms up, on his knees, he surrendered those dreams.

  “What’s he doing?”

  Zeferelli snorted. “Meditating.”

  “Well, let’s wake him up.” Early looked to Lance. “You ready?” Lance nodded. Together, they entered the room, and as if he rose from the air itself, Haur sprang to his feet.

  Zeferelli jumped, reaching for his weapon.

  Lance chuckled. “At ease, Lieutenant.” He motioned to the table. “Colonel.”

  With a nod, Haur placed himself in a chair. Unnerving as all get-out was the absolute calm on the man’s face.

  Ironically, Early’s storm overshadowed what was right in front of him. “You’ve played your cards,” Early said, hands folded on the table. “Now I’ll play mine.”

  Eyebrows pinched, Haur leaned in as if confused. “Do you not understand—?”

  “No.” Early’s commanding tone severed the Asian’s argument.

  “We do not have time—”

  “Then shut it and listen.” Early had a mean streak the size of the Mississippi, but it only came out when necessary. Absolutely necessary. “This is my base—American base. You don’t come in here giving orders.”

  Plowing his hands through his short dark hair, chains dangling, Zheng pinched his lips into a tight line. He shoved back. Raised his hands in surrender. “Play your diplomatic and political games. But I will not be responsible for what happens by your waste of time.”

  “And what is t
hat?”

  “The general’s son,” Haur said, his breathing haggard, bloated with frustration. “Wu Jianyu is loose in this country. He is without the approval of our government. There is no telling what he will do.”

  Lance wasn’t flustered. “You have an idea of what that is though, don’t you?”

  Tension bled through the Asian’s body. “Revenge.”

  Early laughed and slapped the table. “Chinese getting revenge on Americans. Ya’d think he’d be more original.”

  “Revenge against his father.” Haur craned his neck toward Early. “He will do whatever it takes to make General Zheng bleed humiliation for the entire world to see.”

  “Now why would he do that?” Lance asked but he already knew the story. Too well.

  “Jianyu dishonored his father’s name, so General Zheng disowned him. It is why Jianyu took a new surname, his mother’s. He feels the punishment is not his to bear, that he was betrayed by his own people, so he wants to make his father bleed publicly, just as his father made him.” Haur cocked his head to Lance. “He will kill till the blood awakens the sleeping giant. By the thousands, if he is allowed to move unchecked for much longer. He would like nothing more than to pit the Chinese against the Americans.”

  “That’s a tall order for one Chinese soldier.”

  “Tell me,” Haur asked. “What would your government do if they learned the son of the minister of defense antagonized and was personally responsible for the death of thousands of American soldiers?”

  Foreboding truth hung like a noose in the room. “They’d dismantle that ministry brick by brick.”

  “Yes.” Haur heaved a breath. “Do you not see? The one man in China who most wants to keep peace is the very man being set up.”

  “By that you mean, General Zheng.”

  Haur gave a slow nod.

  “Easys words coming from the adopted son of said man.”

  “The adoption was never formalized. It is—”

  “A matter of honor.”

  Haur inclined his head. “The very honor Jianyu seeks to destroy.”

  “Says you,” Early said with a growl. “See, here’s what I’m not understanding, Colonel. If this minister of defense is so committed to seeing this through, why doesn’t he stop his own son? Why doesn’t he come here himself?”

  “To be here would jeopardize a great many things. And—”

  Time to throw a pound of steak to the lion. Lance eased forward. “We have located your brother.”

  The man went stone still.

  “Team of civilian geologists up in the mountains were attacked, some taken hostage—”

  “Civilians?” Confusion smeared over the Asian’s face. “That makes no sense. Jianyu would not do such a thing unless there was great gain.”

  He was beginning to know these demons by name.

  Lance was on his feet. “If you gentlemen will excuse me.” He’d seen enough. Had enough.

  Haur shot up. “General Burnett, it was you General Zheng told me to seek out. He said you would understand …”

  The words trailed Lance down the hall. Into the icy night. He stopped under a streetlight and drew in a hard breath. All the forces of darkness, all of his sins, were coming to bear. Oh, he understood all right. Twenty years ago, he should’ve gone back. Tied up some loose ends. Paid better attention and not allowed Li’s wife to be snatched—though even he had to admit the Chinese went to great lengths to stage that event, taking her while Li was out of the country, the kids at school.

  And now … Wu Jianyu, to restore his honor, may have extracted a blood price from one of the best operatives the U.S. had ever trained.

  He had no more time to waste. He wouldn’t wait this time. He’d waited, yielded his doubt to the benefit …

  But now, the answers had come. The brutal, scalding truth that Jianyu knew who was up in those mountains, knew who he’d captured.

  Lance prayed for the great blessing of being able to kill the man responsible for all this. At the very least, make him pay in a very painful, excruciating way. Snuff out some of these demons. It wasn’t a Christian thought. But that’s why they say, war is hell.

  Twenty-Three

  Camp Loren, CJSOTF-A, Sub-Base

  Bagram AFB, Afghanistan

  Here, have a seat.”

  Heath lowered himself to the floor, where he stretched out, crossed his legs, and tucked an arm behind his head for a pillow. Since they wouldn’t allow the team to leave the room—Hogan had to be right, something was going on—he’d make the most of it and grab a few z’s. Eyes closed, he tried to settle his mind, bar it from thinking of a pretty Asian.

  The soft click of nails on the floor made him smile. Soon, a soft, furry body pressed against his. With an exaggerated sigh, Trinity slumped onto his chest. Had she sensed his distraction over Jia and gotten jealous?

  A cold, wet nose nudged his chin.

  I’ll take that as a yes. He roughed her fur, then settled into a smooth stroke along her ribs.

  As he lay with his girl in his arms, Heath focused on his slowing heart rate. It amazed him that after all these years, Trin still had the ability to bring him to a point of near-stasis. She was more than a military war dog, more than the dog he handled, more than his partner. There weren’t many people he’d try to explain that to, because they’d get weirded out. Few understood the incredible bond.

  Trinity’s head snapped up.

  Heath opened his eyes, hand going to the weapon he didn’t have, mere seconds before the door opened.

  A tall, lanky major stood in the doorway, and Heath noted the name patch: OTTE. His gaze swept the room till it landed on Heath. “Daniels, General Burnett wants you.”

  Heath pulled himself upright. Glanced at the others. Had he done something wrong? Maybe the whole stint with the villager taking a bead on Trin. He climbed to his feet and reached for her lead.

  “Just you. Not the dog.”

  Heath paused. “Not happening.” Too many factors went into his resolve that he wouldn’t be separated from her again on this trip, and right at the front of the line was the villager who’d tried to shoot her. Though he knew Hogan and Aspen were dedicated to their canines, nobody would put their rump on the line for Trinity like he would.

  “We can make you—”

  Heath moved a foot back and lifted his arms, ready to take him on. “Bring it.”

  The major grinned. “He thought you’d say that.” He tossed a nod toward the door. “C’mon. Time’s short.”

  Heath hesitated. Who thought…? What…? What was happening here? He coiled the lead around his hand, shot a look to the others who shrugged. Out the door, down the hall, across Route Disney, and into HQ.

  Otte pointed to a chair. “Wait here.” He stepped into the room—and in the brief second before the door swung shut, Heath peeked. Packed with all the brass Hogan had mentioned, a table consumed the room. Around it stood a dozen or so men—Watters and his team.

  The visual connection severed with the wood barrier. Okay, that looked a heckuva lot like a mission briefing. Or had the airings of one. He wasn’t included but instead dragged to the wings. Were they trying to taunt him? Point out that he wasn’t good enough?

  Head in his hands, Heath closed his eyes. Lord, what’s happening? I—

  “Daniels.”

  Heath jerked to his feet.

  The major stood at the door and motioned him inside.

  Sweaty and smelly, the room bore the stench of the twenty-plus bodies crowding it. And that was the word—crowd. Only three paces into the den and there was nowhere for Heath to stand, let alone sit.

  “Make a hole,” a deep voice boomed.

  Like the Red Sea parting, bodies drifted aside, enabling him to reach the table.

  General Burnett, who’d chewed Jia out that night, sat at the head to his left.

  “Heath Daniels. You asked for me, sir … s?” He glanced around the ranks on the ACUs, and Hogan had been right. More brass—


  “Daniels, you saved my life and every man on the team escorting me to Eggers.” Burnett paused. “Is that right?”

  “No, sir.”

  Burnett eyed him. “Do tell.”

  “I saw a hostile and engaged with my working dog, sir. If there hadn’t been boots on ground, we would’ve been slaughtered.”

  Chuckling, Burnett looked around. “What’d I tell you? Team player.” He rifled through some papers. “Daniels, you met a young woman while at Bagram. Made friends with her, right?”

  Electricity hummed through his veins. Was this a write-up? “I met a lot of people at Bagram, sir.”

  Burnett leaned forward, his fingers threaded on the table. “But there was only one young woman you spent several hours with on the training field well past training hours after your speaking gig. Only one lady you had lunch with at the Thai restaurant. Is that right, son?”

  Despite the heat churning through his gut and face, the snickers behind him, Heath placed his hands behind his back, at ease. “Yes, sir.”

  “In fact, this young woman mentioned you.”

  Heath’s gaze betrayed him and skidded to the general, who chuckled.

  “And I chewed her out, told her to get her head back in the game.”

  Is that what was happening that night, a chewing out? Something happened up in the mountains where she’d been … and he hadn’t seen her since. She wasn’t here. Had she died? Was Heath being blamed for Jia’s death?

  “With all due respect, sir,” Heath said, his heart pounding, “I think you might’ve underestimated her. A woman who can tell a guy to take a long walk off a short pier has her head in one place—the game.”

  “Is that so?” Burnett sat back with a look of disgust. “Then maybe you can explain how she didn’t see the attack that was coming.”

  “Sir, again, with all due respect, she wasn’t a soldier. She couldn’t have known—”

  “That’s where you are wrong.” Burnett motioned to a man to his left.

  “Daniels, have a seat.” As the words left General Early’s lips, a three-star rose and vacated his spot.

  “This is a mission briefing with two purposes: discovery and recovery.” Early slid reading glasses on the tip of his broad nose. “Daniels, you will be riding with ODA452. They’re going up there to discover what happened. Who attacked, are there bodies, if so, how many. If all members of the geological survey team minus the girl who escaped are not accounted for, we need to know who’s missing. If anyone is missing, the team will report back here and then launch the second phase: recovery—recover bodies, then search and locate any missing.”