Talon

by Ronie Kendig

  Austin bolted toward the trees.

  “Stop him!”

  He knew that bark! Austin sprinted, knowing he had seconds at best to find Talon before the others pummeled him into oblivion. Even now he heard them closing in from behind.

  “Courtland!” one shouted.

  He plunged into the trees. “Talon!” He skidded to a stop so he could hear. Breathing hard and his heart hammering, he couldn’t hear. “Talon!”

  Leaves crunched. Shouts.

  He dove to the right and kept moving. “Talon, heel!”

  “Courtland, don’t make me shoot you.”

  “He’s here,” Austin shouted back. “Talon’s here. I heard him.”

  “Check it out.” Watters. Had to be Watters. He was the only one the others yielded to. “Five minutes, Courtland, and then your number’s up.”

  Jogging in a wide circle, he slowly narrowed the field. Iron fences, stone crypts—man, this place was creepy to the nth degree. “Talon, where are you boy?”

  Barking to the left.

  Austin plunged through the forest, around shrubs. Over headstones. Around a mausoleum.

  Snarling and snapping lunged at him. Talon strained against a lead.

  Austin scrabbled backward. “Good boy. Good Talon.” He held his hands out.

  Hackles raised, Talon growled and snapped again.

  “Easy, boy. What’s wrong?” The lead wrapped around a headstone. Austin reached for it then saw the hand. His lunch climbed up his throat. The fingers moved. “Out,” came a raspy voice.

  Talon whimpered as he slumped back on his haunches.

  Austin shifted to the right three paces.

  Propped against a crumbling marker, Cardinal looked up at him, his face beaded with sweat and blood. He held his side.

  “You look good,” Austin said as he knelt.

  A crooked smile. “It’s the fresh air.” He pushed to his feet, grimacing as he did.

  “Markoski!” Hastings rushed toward them, the others converging on their location.

  Austin shifted his attention to Talon. “Good boy, Talon.” He offered a treat. Talon wolfed it down as Austin freed the lead.

  Candyman helped Cardinal to his feet as Austin straightened.

  “Here.” Cardinal tugged something from his pocket. A bloody rag.

  “Thanks, but—”

  “Scent.” He waved it. “He’s a tracking dog, right?”

  “Why didn’t you go after her if you had Talon and that?”

  “After they shot me, I scrambled back here to get Talon. That’s when I heard your shouts. Thought they’d come back.” Cardinal knelt beside Talon. “I thought they’d come back to finish me off.”

  “Let’s see if this works.”

  “Oh, it works.” Austin joined Cardinal next to Talon. “The bigger question is—will Talon?”

  Forty-Four

  An hour. Talon had been sniffing and tracking for an hour. Cardinal kept him hydrated, and Austin proved a great help as the team trailed in the van. Talon hopped up on sidewalks but mostly trotted down the road. Cars honked and drivers shared one-finger salutes, but Cardinal didn’t care as he jogged beside Talon. Fresh spurts of warmth slid down his hip and side. He still couldn’t believe Kalyna clipped him. It wasn’t a full wound. A graze, but a deep one.

  Was she just a bad shot? She didn’t have the training he did. The colonel had drilled into him how to fire, how to nail a target from a football-field length.

  She’d tipped her hand. Maybe intentionally. He wasn’t sure he’d ever know. But Kalyna could’ve killed him. Should’ve. But she’d run him off. Told him to save Aspen. Running wasn’t always a bad thing. Because running away then meant he could find Aspen and save her.

  If he walked into the trap with Kalyna, the colonel would implant a bullet or two in Aspen’s head. The man showed no qualms throwing his mom from a five-story building, so he’d show none when it came to killing a woman he’d never met.

  The woman his son loved. Was that what this was about?

  “Want me to take over?” Austin asked from the van.

  Cardinal saved his breath for running and continued on.

  Talon trotted up onto a sidewalk. Sniffed then paused. Snout in the air, Talon puffed his cheeks with his mouth closed. Processing the scent, no doubt.

  “Think he lost it?”

  “No way. His snout isn’t broken.”

  “No, but his heart is,” Timbrel countered.

  “Quiet,” Cardinal said as he gave the Lab room to search for his girl. “Give me the water bowl.”

  Austin produced the collapsible bowl and dumped a bottle of water in it.

  Cardinal set the bowl in front of the dog. “Good boy.”

  “Cardinal, switch with Austin,” Burnett said from the front passenger seat.

  “No.”

  “It’s not a question.”

  “I don’t care what it is.”

  “You two can take turns. You’re gushing blood all over St. Petersburg. Rest. Let him track him for a couple of miles.”

  Lapping the water, Talon seemed to inhale the cool liquid then jerked his head up. Cheeks puffed, black nose bouncing. He moved to the curb. Sniffed again.

  It made sense. It was right. But yielding, knowing Aspen was out there with his psycho father, and with Kalyna…whichever side she was on…he just—

  With a loud bark, Talon tore off around the corner.

  “Got it!” Austin exploded from the van and beat a path after Talon.

  Cardinal gulped failure.

  Hands grabbed him. “Get in, idiot!”

  He fell back against the van. They hauled him up onto the bench seat as Watters floored it. Pain sluiced through his side and back as the van careened around other vehicles, even using the northbound lane for fifty yards.

  “Watch it, watch it!” Burnett shouted.

  “I’m good. I’m good,” Watterboy responded as he navigated the tangled streets with the skill of a Russian familiar with the area.

  But the only thing Cardinal cared about was Talon. He was the key. Hang on, Aspen. I’m coming. He would not—would not!—let the madman win this one. He wouldn’t stand still while the colonel shoved the only person he loved into the afterlife.

  The distance between the van and the dog-handler team lengthened.

  “You’re losing them,” Cardinal said.

  “No I’m not.”

  As they rounded a corner, Cardinal’s pulse slowed to a painfully cruel rate. Nevsky Prospekt. No. He wouldn’t have brought her here. There were too many people. Too many witnesses. His gaze locked on to the fifth-floor windows. The flat.

  “Cardinal?”

  That window…what had it looked like from the outside? Her falling…

  The distance shortened. Slower at first then faster, until they caught up with them. The golden dog paced back and forth, sniffing. He leapt up the steps to the door. Then sat.

  “I think he’s got it.”

  Cardinal stepped out. Strode up the walk. Up to the door. Kicked it in.

  Light reached across the floor. Its fingers traced the first step to the second level. Kalyna stretched over several steps at an odd angle.

  “No!” Austin shouted as he darted toward the stairs. “Lina!”

  Standing there, staring at his sister laid out, blood covering her chest and shirt, Cardinal realized he’d failed. One more time. The colonel had won.

  “Lina, please talk to me.” Austin lowered her to the floor, where her blood had puddled.

  Cardinal drew in a short breath, blinked out of the dimension that had gouged out his thinking and ability to function. A dimension of the past.

  “Make a hole.” Scrip hurried to her side with a pack.

  Candyman and Watters hurried up the steps, clearing as they went. Cardinal trailed them but climbed to the fifth floor. He kicked in the door.

  A woman screamed.

  Vision tunneled, hearing hollowed, he moved through the kitchen. The living
room. Past the colonel’s room.

  “Nikol!”

  “Mama, you are here?”

  “Yes. It’s a good surprise, yes?”

  He wrapped his arms around her, savoring her touch.

  Cardinal jerked to the hall. Strode down it. To the bedroom. His bedroom. He stood in front of the window. Lacy curtains draped the view.

  Lace? The colonel would’ve hated that.

  But that…that is where it happened. Where his father threw his mother to her death. He backed up a step then glanced at the window. No, another foot or two. Yes. This was better. He stood here. Where he’d done nothing as his mother was murdered. Right before his eyes.

  If Kalyna was here, killed, then that meant the colonel knew. Knew Kalyna had warned him, tried to help him. That meant Aspen’s time was short, if not already gone.

  Cardinal threw a punch into the wall. Roared against the failures. The defeat. He dropped against the wall. Gripped his knees. She’s dead. Aspen was as good as dead. There was no way she could still be alive. How would they find her now? She wasn’t there. Talon didn’t have a scent. In a smog-infected city…there was no hope.

  He banged his head against the wall. Squeezed his eyes against the pain. Ran his hands over his head and gripped the nape of his neck. “Augh!” Rammed his elbows into the wall.

  Tears warming his cheeks, he stared at the window. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, something he’d never allowed himself to say before. “I am so sorry I didn’t stop him.”

  He cried.

  God, I did nothing to save my mother. Help me—help me!—not make the same mistake now. Please, You sent me here. Now—show me!

  Something wet nudged his hand.

  He glanced down and found Talon at his side. “Good boy.”

  Talon had found Kalyna and maybe saved her life. He’d done exactly what Cardinal had asked him to do—to find the owner of the rag. That was Kalyna. But he’d expected Kalyna to be with Aspen. She probably would’ve been if she hadn’t gone up against one of the most ruthless, cruelest men in Russia.

  “Hey, man. You okay?”

  Cardinal shot a sidelong look to the man hovering in the doorway. “He will kill her if he hasn’t already. Just to teach me a lesson.”

  “So, what? You’re giving up?”

  “Don’t you get it?”

  “Don’t you?” Candyman snapped. “You’re wasting breath. We could be searching!”

  “How? How are we supposed to find her?”

  “The girl.” Candyman hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “She told us where Aspen is.”

  Cardinal came off the wall. “Kalyna? She’s still alive?”

  “So far.”

  Sirens wailed through the afternoon.

  “We need to bug out.”

  “We have to take her. They’ll kill her if she’s found.”

  “Already loaded up. Let’s move!”

  Downstairs, Cardinal stepped out into the afternoon. Candyman climbed in the van.

  Talon turned a few circles. Sniffed a tree.

  “Talon, heel.”

  Instead, Talon tore off.

  In the split second it took for Talon’s movement to register, Cardinal knew the dog had hit on Aspen’s scent.

  Yes! Cardinal sprinted after him, ignoring the fire in his side. The renewed pain in his neck from the injury in Djibouti. Down the street. Straight toward Ligovksy Prospekt. The roundabout. Beneath trolley lines. He pushed himself.

  Talon vanished when he banked left. What street was that? He knew this city. Walked it. Worked it. Prospekt Bakunina?

  He careened onto the street. With one last push, Cardinal shoved himself onward. Wove around cars caught in traffic. His mind warred, knowing the others were most likely stranded in traffic, too. Which meant…

  I’m alone.

  Forty-Five

  You promised me!”

  “You are lucky to be alive, General Payne.”

  Despite the crippling pain from her broken leg, Aspen focused on the two men arguing within earshot. Kept still so the chains anchoring her to the table didn’t rattle as she tried to do a little recon on her surroundings and captors.

  There was no chance to escape with the chain and broken leg, but she wouldn’t have a prayer anyway with the horde of men working in the warehouse.

  The men thought she was unconscious, and that served her well. The man she’d seen with the cruel soldier was American—clear English gave him away. They’d worked diligently for the last two hours, barely a word spoken as trucks were loaded with crates marked in the same fashion as the ones on the boat in Djibouti.

  As more trucks left and the emptiness reigned in the dingy warehouse, the voices rose again. This time, angrier.

  “I’ve sacrificed everything. Done everything you’ve asked, Tselekova. I gave him to you.”

  “Yes, and now our business is at an end, General.” Tselekova flicked a wrist toward a man in uniform.

  He aimed at the American.

  Aspen clenched her eyes. But closing her eyes could not prevent her from hearing the primal scream and the gunfire that silenced it.

  As her hearing and thundering heart cleared, Aspen heard the boots.

  Right next to her.

  “Get up,” he said in a thickly accented voice.

  Aspen stared up at him as she slowly rose to a sitting position, chains clanking.

  Snarling and snapping echoed through the warehouse. Talon? She looked to the side, and her stomach heaved. Three Dobermans strained against chain leads. Eyes trained on her as they vied for permission to devour her.

  Lord…

  “You are dog handler, yes?” Tselekova stuffed a key into the lock and twisted it. The chains dropped to the floor, tugging the rest off her like a slithering snake till they piled in a mound at her feet.

  The question all but forced her to look at the dogs again. The handler’s bulging muscles and face warned he had little control left. The Dobermans jerked him forward. His feet slipped and slid over the cement.

  Swallowing, Aspen skated a sidelong glance to Tselekova. Gave a slow nod.

  He hooked a hand beneath her arm. Hauled her up off the crate that had been her prison for the last…well, she had no idea how long she’d been out. When she woke after they broke her leg, the pain had punched her back into oblivion.

  He yanked her to the front.

  Her weight fell on her right leg. She cried out.

  “Your foolishness,” he said, his breath salty and warm against her cheek, “in trying to escape, to thwart my plans, will now serve to bring about your end…quicker.”

  Was that a threat?

  He smiled as the handler shouted, now straining with both hands to hold back the dogs.

  Aspen swallowed.

  “You love my Nikol.”

  Nikol. Was that Dane’s real name? There was no use denying it. Another sidelong glance churned her stomach. How could the man look like an older version of Dane yet look nothing like him? “Yes.”

  “As I thought.” The man’s gaze fixed on something. “And it seems he loves you, too.”

  A truck lumbered out of the warehouse. Sunlight bled across the cement and delivered into the chaos Dane.

  Aspen sucked in a breath. Relief flooded her.

  Rabid snapping and barking.

  He leveled a gun at Tselekova as he closed the gap. “Let her go.”

  “Where are your friends?” Tselekova’s grip on her arm tightened. “And your sister, Nikol?”

  “You already took care of her, Father.” Dane stopped. “Or am I still not allowed to call you that?”

  “You never earned the right.”

  Dane smiled in disdain. “A son should not have to earn that right.”

  “I see you are already poisoned by this woman. You are weaker than you were before you left.”

  “No, Colonel, I am stronger than ever before.” He nodded to Aspen. “Release her.”

  “If I release her, Anton will release t
hem.”

  Both hands held the gun steady and sure. Aspen saw the pure determination in Dane’s stance, his body language. The fear she’d seen before when he talked about the past, about the reasons he couldn’t love her, were gone.

  Dane held Tselekova’s gaze. “I’m ready when you are.”

  Forty-Six

  Calculated risks were always risky.

  But the surreal confidence, peace, and laser-like focus on freeing Aspen from the colonel’s clutches simmered in his gut. He spotted Aspen’s nervous response.

  “Do you know why I killed your sister?”

  “I really don’t care.” Cardinal kept his breathing steady, his focus pure. Because he had the upper hand. Kalyna wasn’t dead—she might die before the team got her some help. But for now, she was alive. The colonel didn’t know that. But he did know that Cardinal never missed a shot. Because it was the colonel who taught him to shoot. Taught him to never miss lest he wanted raw, bloodied hands.

  “You killed the one person who was on your side. Kalyna merely wanted your approval. Just like I did.” Cardinal thrust his chin toward Aspen. “Release her. Without the dogs, and you walk out of here alive and intact.”

  “I believe you miscounted, Nikol.”

  “Dane!”

  The sound of the shot hit him at the same time the bullet did.

  Winged him. He stumbled.

  A flurry of insanity erupted. The colonel shoved Aspen forward.

  She screamed and dropped, holding her leg.

  The colonel signaled the handler.

  Free, the dogs vaulted.

  On a knee, Cardinal took aim at the lead dog. The one headed straight for Aspen. Ignored the one that sailed over the air and cement toward him. He aimed a few seconds ahead. Fired. Let the dog catch up with the bullet.

  He swung around. Saw the meaty jowls widen as the dog pawed air.

  Cardinal fired.

  Searing pain chomped into his hand at the same time a yelp erupted. The weight of the dog barreled into him and knocked him backward. The teeth came loose. The dog yelped again as he flipped onto all fours. He walked a wide circle around, away from Dane before collapsing on the ground, panting hard. Wounded.