by Dale Mayer
ETHAN
The K9 Files, Book 1
Dale Mayer
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
About This Book
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
About Pierce
Author’s Note
Complimentary Download
About the Author
Copyright Page
About This Book
When one door closes … second chances open another …
Ethan was lost after a major accident abruptly shifted him from a military life to a civilian one, from working with dogs to odd jobs … In that time, he’d spent months healing from his physical injuries. When he connects with Badger and the rest of his Titanium Corp. group of former SEALs, Badger offers Ethan an opportunity he can’t refuse. A chance to do the work he used to do … with a twist.
Cinnamon works from home as a project manager plus is heavily involved in global dog rescues—dogs of all kinds. When Ethan walks into the next door’s vet’s office with an injured shepherd in his arms, she sees another lost soul—just like the canine ones she helps.
Ethan knows he’s about to take a dangerous step, but he’s on the job, and no one—on the job or not—hurts animals while he’s around. This poor shepherd has taken enough abuse, and Ethan fears she is only the tip of a nightmare he’s determined to uncover. But he knows she’s going to lead him in the right direction.
He has his sights set on saving one dog in particular, Sentry: K9 File 01.
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Prologue
Badger walked into the office for the impromptu meeting and smiled at his friends. “I had a very unusual and cryptic conversation this morning, which is why we are all gathered here.”
“You going to tell us about it?” Erick asked, lifting a fresh cup of coffee to his lips.
“No, he is,” Badger said, pointing to one wall. “I have Commander Glen Cross on the line.” He hit the button on the phone. “Go ahead, Commander. You’re on video. What can we do for you?”
The commander’s stern countenance filled the screen before them. “Who is that there with you? Identify yourselves.”
One by one the men executed a roll call.
The commander, a smile in his voice, said, “Now those are some names to warm my heart. I heard you’ve started a new company, Titanium Corp, to employ other former SEALs in situations like your own. Is that correct?”
“Yes, that’s correct.” Badger glanced around the room at the waiting faces. “Is there something we can help you with?”
“Yes, possibly. But only if you have time to volunteer. This is a big-heart mission that unfortunately doesn’t come with pay. … You know how very proud the military is of our K9 program, correct?”
The men nodded.
“Absolutely,” Geir said. “We personally have had good reasons to be thankful for that program.”
Badger added, “It’s been a huge success. We worked with the dogs in Afghanistan several times.”
“We had a tracking system for those dogs that left the military,” the commander continued, “to make sure they went to good homes. But, with budget cuts, we’ve run into a bit of a problem.”
“What problem is that?” Erick asked. “Those dogs deserve the best.”
“We don’t want them treated like they were in the Vietnam War,” Jager said, his voice hard.
“Absolutely,” the commander said. “I’ve got a dozen K9 files here of dogs that have ended their naval careers. However, we’ve lost track of them. The cases were supposed to be looked into, as we want to make sure our veterans, human and K9, are well cared for. But so much work is involved, and we’re constantly dealing with other aspects of the K9 program, so we have no time to investigate. I find that very difficult, and I can’t ignore these dogs’ plights.”
“What situations are they in now?”
“Everything,” the commander said. “You know we have a system for naming them, and all these dogs are tattooed in a specific sequence. I have the fact sheets in each of their files. For example, the first one graduated and was immediately sent to Afghanistan. He was active for about nine months. His owner took an IED and went home as a quadriplegic. The dog went home with him, not as injured but as no longer fit for active duty. Unfortunately the owner was involved in a severe crash within six months of getting home and was killed. His wife couldn’t handle the situation, and the dog was handed over to a dog trainer, who then found a home for him, who then got rid of the dog because he had behavioral problems. And so on. His whereabouts are now unknown.”
The men exchanged hard glances.
“What is it you would like us to do?” Cade asked cautiously.
“I deeply care about these animals that have served our country,” the commander said in a low voice, “so I’m asking you to do anything you can to locate them, to ensure they are in a good environment. But only if you can volunteer your time because there’s zero budget money. Otherwise I’d be getting my men here to do this.”
“You want us to track down the dogs and make sure they are okay?” Badger asked.
“We created these dogs,” the commander said. “We made them the trained soldiers they are. Society seems to think, if these K9s can’t get along with people, then the only answer is to put them down. But if there is any other answer, I would like to think we would take that avenue first.”
The men looked at each other again.
Jager said, “I’m game.”
Geir nodded. “Always. One of those dogs took an IED for me over in Afghanistan. Blew up his trainer too. Those animals deserve the best care that we can possibly give them.”
“And, for these twelve animals, we have failed them,” the commander said. “I’m not assigning blame, and I can’t accept the guilt, but, as a country, we have failed these animals. I’m asking you to find it in your hearts to help them.”
“Any suggestions on how?” Laszlo asked. “We’re hardly flush with funds ourselves.”
“Understood,” the commander returned. “That’s why I delayed contacting you. I can’t pay you, but … if you ever need anything else …”
Badger smiled. Having the help of a commander was priceless. He glanced around at the others. They were all grinning. “We’ll find a way,” Badger said. “No promises on the time frame.”
“Perfect,” the commander said. “Faxing the files to you now as we speak.”
The whirring of the fax machine in Badger’s office confirmed the commander’s words.
“As for suggestions on how to find them, … everything we have is in each of the files. Go carefully. Make sure they don’t need anything. That they’re safe. That the people around them are too.”
The men nodded.
“That’s a problem with people and dogs normally,” Badger said. “And trained dogs no longer working with their trained handlers get confused and frustrated at the lack of commands—often becoming dangerous.”
“Exactly,” the commander said. “I don’t have anybody else to dump this special project on. And I’m sorry. It really is a dump. It’s only because I care that I’m even contacting you. If you get any good results, I’d love to hear back. You’re my last hope.” And he hung up.
Badger lifted a single sheet of paper in his hand, the topmost
from the fax machine, still printing out more. “He’s sending me all the files for the twelve dogs listed here.”
“That’s a brutal change for these animals,” Geir said. “Those dogs are incredibly well-trained and thrive within that structured environment.”
“They were also extremely attached to their handlers, and the bond is mutual, like any pet owner,” Jager said. “So where are the trainers and handlers who worked with these animals? Isn’t that the first and foremost responsibility of these initial specialists assigned to the K9s, as in most cases they become the owners after the dogs are discharged?”
“Yes, and no,” Badger said. “You heard what the commander said regarding this first case. We’ve got a handler-turned-owner who came home already severely handicapped and then died. When you think about it, his civilian wife can’t handle that service dog, particularly if it’s new to her family, not to mention when dealing with her own personal loss. She’s also moved now and apparently doesn’t know who the trainer pawned the dog off on, as she was only too happy to get rid of a problem.”
“Exactly, although finding where the dog is now could be a dead end,” Geir said. “But I’m all for trying.”
“Let’s get a show of hands.”
Unanimously all seven raised their hands.
Badger nodded. “That’s why the commander asked us. We’re very much like those dogs. We were also lost in many ways. And we’ve picked ourselves up and pulled together as a team. We are who we are because of each other. It’s up to us to find these dogs and to make sure they are okay.”
Geir said, “But none of us have K9 training.”
“True,” Badger said. “What about asking some of the men who work for us now? Find out who of them might have K9 training and go from there.”
“Ethan,” Jager said. “He’s swinging a hammer on Geir’s house. He’s an electrician by trade in the military, a very handy guy to have around. A little bit of a loner, like the rest of us, but he moved to the K9 Unit eight or so years ago and served in that capacity in Afghanistan.”
“Ethan? He was K9?” Cade asked. “I didn’t know that.”
“That’s right. I heard something about that.” Geir’s fingers thrummed the table in front of him. “He’s also a hell of a worker.”
“Yes, he is. I’ve spoken to him about what happened in Afghanistan. He doesn’t say much, but I gather the same accident that took his dog also took his leg,” Jager said. “I highly suggest we talk to him first, see if he’s willing to take the first dog file.”
“The first file?” Erick asked in surprise. “Are you thinking of asking a different man to look at each file?”
“Why don’t we start with Ethan? Maybe he can run this whole K9 locate-and-update division. Or at least give us some leads on other K9 personnel. It’s possible Ethan knows men in the industry who are back home again who can take this on,” Talon said, speaking up for the first time. “Ethan needs a purpose in his life anyway. But we can’t discount the idea that these dogs could be all across the country and beyond.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to talk to him,” Badger said with a nod. “I think he’s the right man, but Ethan has to be willing.”
“That’s good enough for me,” Laszlo said. “I like the idea of Ethan handling this completely, whether he’s hands-on for each lost K9 or just managing any other men assigned to these files as needed.”
Erik nodded. “Ethan is a good man. Although he’s not easy to talk to. A loner by nature. And he is lost. I think what’s lost is that missing K9 partner in his life. Once you’re part of a K9 Unit, it’s pretty hard to walk away from it.” He paused, his gaze going from one to the other. “What about money though? Are we offering any? Not that we have to offer …”
“I suggest we call Ethan in the morning,” Badger stated, “put the proposition before him and see what his response is.”
“How about we don’t give him a whole lot of choices?” Jager said. “Like most of us, he has learned to take orders and to follow directions. I say we tell him that we’re looking for a dog, give him an overview, then ask him to go after it.”
“Maybe during his free time. He has to make money too.”
The others all agreed.
Badger smiled. “Ethan’s better off financially than most, after inheriting his grandparents’ estate. So that might not be as big of an issue as we’re thinking. Plus this might bring back his passion for life again.”
“It’s all about how we approach it,” Erick said with a grin. “As we well know with the women, it’s all in how everything is approached.” He smiled down at his wedding ring as he turned it on his finger. “Just like they surprised us, I suggest we surprise Ethan. We all know it’s what he really wants to do.”
“It’s possible.” Jager nodded. “But again, it has to be his decision.”
“Agreed.” Badger raised an eyebrow, looking around as everybody nodded. “Agreed by all then. Ethan is it.” He picked up the topmost pages from the fax machine and laughed. “Even better, this dog was lost in Texas. Last known location was Houston.”
“Perfect.” Cade laughed. “At least he’d have some support there with Levi and his teams nearby.”
Badger’s phone rang. He picked it up and chuckled. “Guess who? Perfect timing. Let’s talk to him right now.”
Chapter 1
Ethan Nebberly studied the desolate ground ahead of him. His gaze shifted slowly, looking for any sign of movement. He’d caught sight of a dog from the corner of his eye as he drove past. He’d turned around and gone back. He didn’t have any business taking this detour, but, seeing the injured shepherd take off, away from him, his only thought had been to help.
Ever since Badger had talked to Ethan, he’d been hard-pressed to think of anything but finding the dog in the K9:01 file. Ethan was never one to leave an animal in need and wanted to get started right away. Badger had persuaded him to slow down and to give them a bit of time to gather some intel.
During training, the dog’s name was Sentry, but, as he’d been handed off several times, he had likely been renamed several times. So Ethan continued to call him by a number in his head, to help distance himself from the dog’s fate. The last known place for the dog was Houston, which was also convenient. Levi’s Legendary Security company was in the area, close to where Ethan was now.
As soon as he realized he was heading in this direction, he’d contacted Gunner, who had been instrumental in getting Ethan into the US War Dogs Association program years ago. They’d kept in touch ever since. Gunner had never been one to leave an animal in need either and couldn’t wait for Ethan to “get his ass over” to his place, as he had put it.
There. Out of the corner of Ethan’s eye again, he sensed movement. The small shepherd lay still, blending in with the rock. The dog was weak enough that it couldn’t keep evading Ethan. He took another step forward, hearing sounds off in the distance. But he didn’t dare stop, his gaze always on the wheat-colored hide of the animal in the tall grass. Drought had taken over this area and had turned the crabgrass the same color as the dog’s hair. This particular shepherd had usual dark markings up around the head and chest area but with a very light-colored back. Ethan walked several more steps, quiet in his approach.
The whisper of movement continued to his left. He did not want other people involved. He preferred to live a life on the edge of society. People asked too many questions. They assumed that politeness was friendliness, and then they dug into Ethan’s life, well past the point he was prepared to share anything.
This dog called to him in a way he hadn’t felt since his military K9 days. He’d seen more than his fair share of injured animals, dogs hurt beyond recognition, where a bullet had been a mercy killing. But then he’d seen men in the same condition too.
Sometimes he wondered if those people would have preferred a bullet, just like those dogs he’d worked with. Ethan himself was one of the walking wounded. He understood some of what this dog was going throu
gh. Another step and the shepherd locked its gaze on him. From the dog’s size, he’d guess she was a young female. She was exhausted, angry, hurt and incredibly dangerous. A low growl erupted from the back of the dog’s throat.
Ethan stilled, sending waves of loving energy toward the animal. He didn’t know if it helped, but he’d always had a way with dogs, particularly the vicious ones. Then he’d rather spend his time with four-legged animals than the two-legged ones.
He’d spent a lifetime hunting down the two-legged ones. Hunting this four-legged one was out of compassion; Ethan couldn’t walk away and leave it alone.
Behind him, a man called out, “Hey, can I help you?”
Ethan didn’t answer. He knew that was the starting volley. More questions would follow.
He took another step toward the shepherd. The growl picked up again; this time he knew the other man could hear it too. His footsteps stopped, but Ethan didn’t let his gaze slide. He crouched slowly, and the shepherd’s muted growl descended an octave, but it didn’t stop.
He never said a word to the animal. The animal already knew words were false. She’d heard them before. No way the injury she sported was anything but man-made. Ethan crouched lower, taking another step toward the dog.
Behind Ethan came soft running footsteps, but again he didn’t dare take a chance to look. He held up a palm toward whoever approached. The footsteps stopped again. When Ethan caught the sucked-in breath of the man closing in on him, he knew he too had seen the shepherd.
The shepherd started to growl again.
“Are you sure you want to approach her?” the stranger asked softly.
Ethan gave a single head nod, keeping his hand up to stop the man from approaching. Ethan took another step, crouching even lower to appear less threatening to the injured animal.
And then again, maybe not to this poor animal, having suffered abuse at the hands of a human.
Ethan could sympathize with that mentality. It wasn’t that he was antisocial, but he was antipeople. Still, he’d agreed to see Gunner, and he was on the hunt for a missing dog. Not this one unfortunately. Ethan was after a big male with different coloring.
