Extreme Honor (10 page)

“Well…” He drew out the response to give himself time to think. “I stayed on watch until Forte texted me a few hours ago to let me know we've got an eye on the grounds. Then I was up for a while longer, thinking of you.”

God, he enjoyed the way pink spread across her cheeks. He planned to tease her more often. This was also a good sign. He'd take whatever he could get.

From the middle of the floor, Atlas snorted and rolled on his side.

No opinions from the peanut gallery, thanks.

Not that he had any delusions of the dog being a mind-reader, but there was no doubt Atlas was aware of the pheromones floating all over the place. Dog probably had a better idea of Lyn's mood than David did.

“If you were so…interested, maybe you shouldn't have insisted on sleeping out here last night.” She turned to the stove and a second later, the sizzling of bacon filled the room with mouth-watering aroma.

He took the opportunity to snag his jeans from where they were hanging over the end of the couch. “Seemed like we were on the same page, but you did get some upsetting news yesterday. Wanted to give you time to ease into things.”

Plus, he'd still been on edge after the run-in with the other ex-soldier earlier in the day. He didn't trust himself to keep things light and easy. Her first encounter with him should be at his best for her, not when his old issues were so close to the surface. She'd seemed to appreciate his reasoning last night.

Of course, she'd given him a look that could kill a man when she'd closed the bedroom door.

As she set a plate on the table, it landed with a loud
thunk
. He winced. Maybe she'd reconsidered overnight.

Enough.

He stood and got himself into his pants while she was still being stubborn giving him her back. Then he stepped over Atlas and came up behind her in the kitchen, putting a steadying hand around hers on the skillet to keep her from whacking him across the head with it. Other hand on her hip, he ground his own into her backside so there was no way she could ignore the raging hard-on he still had even zipped up inside his pants.

“Believe me, I wanted to join you in your room last night.” He leaned his head close to the side of hers and nipped her ear. “But same reasoning applies this morning even if we both lost some sleep from frustration.”

She didn't try to step away but her back was straight as a board and her shoulders squared.

“You're being very considerate. And I should appreciate it. I thought about it a lot last evening. I don't like the mixed messages and I don't like running hot only to be put into a forced cool down. You had me incredibly wound up last night and then you decided it was all about the chivalrous thing to do.”

He swallowed hard. Okay. He backed up a fraction and gave her room. “I'm sorry.”

After a moment, she sighed, turned off the heat on the stove and placed the skillet down safely. Then she turned into his arms. Rising up on her toes, she pressed a kiss against his jaw. “But you had good intentions. I'm hoping talking about this will prevent a repeat and that you'll make it up to me.”

No sane man would ignore that hint.

He kissed her, enjoying the sweet honey taste of her mouth. He also gave thanks she'd changed her mind about keeping professional distance because even the minimal space between them due to the clothes they were wearing was too much. He sincerely hoped she'd be as interested in pursuing this thing between them after he clued her in to all the other shit going on around them.

And the thought effectively chilled him. A man didn't need cold showers when he had this much insanity to deal with inside his own head. His mood was grim by the time they'd finished breakfast and gathered up Atlas to head back to the main house.

“It's a vet visit for you, Atlas.” David noticed Atlas had been much more amenable to commands this morning. Small battle won there. He expected to have a few more instances like last night's contest of wills before Atlas made the decision to listen a hundred percent of the time. It was a turning point between every dog and handler. The trick with Atlas was to get him to a point where he would accept a new handler at all.

Lyn held Atlas for Doctor Medicci while she checked on the healing scrape along his side. Atlas stood still under examination, amazingly responsive to Lyn's encouragements. David stood back and let the ladies work.

“He's healing well, not showing any signs of pain.” Medicci murmured as she ran her hands along Atlas's back and legs. “You kept him on light exercise, right?”

“Easy training and daily walks. No running for any real distance,” Lyn answered. She paused then added, “Mostly. He's an active dog.”

“Mmm.” Medicci sounded noncommittal but not angry. Atlas was looking good and they all knew it. “On principal, he should be kept to light exercise a while longer but as long as the area around the wound is free of redness or swelling, he should be fine. Sutures will dissolve on their own.”

“Got it.” David figured he'd keep the training review at the current pace. No need to rush Atlas, and Lyn was working wonders with the dog in general.

“While I'm here, I'll do his basic exam and take samples for the standard tests.” Medicci took out her stethoscope and pressed it to either side of Atlas's chest.

Things looked to be fine until Medicci took out the big scanner and passed it over Atlas's back. She frowned, checked the device, then passed it over him again more slowly. “He's chipped, isn't he?”

“All military working dogs are.” David pushed away from the wall and came to stand at Lyn's side. He ran his fingers through Atlas's coat along the dog's right shoulder, seeking the small bump under the skin he'd encountered grooming. “It's right here.”

“Whatever that is, it's not a functioning microchip.” Medicci shook her head. “I just used this before I got here on two other dogs. It's in working order. His chip must've malfunctioned or been damaged.”

It wasn't likely, as small as the chips tended to be, but anything was possible.

“I'll remove it now and we'll re-chip him to be safe.” Medicci reached for her sterile implements.

“Remove it.” David cleared his throat. “But we'll take him on base to get a new one in.”

Two feminine gazes pinned him with questioning looks. It was not the most comfortable he'd ever been. “The microchips for MWDs are more robust than the average pet chips linking a bar code to an owner's name, address, and phone number. All military working dogs have GPS too.”

Medicci nodded. “We're going to need to restrain him. This won't cause major pain but it will be more than a pinch.”

“You don't need to put him out, do you?” Lyn sounded concerned.

He didn't blame her. Anesthesia wasn't something to do lightly. He'd never seen Medicci do it, wasn't sure she could on an on-site visit like this.

Medicci shook her head. “Normally, it'd be something I'd recommend an office visit for. These chips are intended to be permanent and even though they're inserted to sit below the skin, they can sort of migrate over time. If they do, I'd need to make a bigger incision and maybe even tease apart the tissues to get a good hold of it. ”

She spread the fur to expose the bump David had pointed out. “This one is easy to locate, obviously. It'll be a pinch. Just enough of an incision to retrieve the chip. Should be fine to restrain and muzzle him. But you two should probably leave the room so he doesn't associate any negative experience with either of you.”

C
ome in.” David closed out a few spreadsheets and directed his attention to Medicci as she walked into his office.

“All done. Lyn is with Atlas now, fussing over him.” Medicci smiled. “Good to see a softer touch for these dogs sometimes. You all do a great job with them; don't get me wrong. But the battle weary deserve a dose of spoiling here and there.”

David didn't plan to argue since he agreed. “Small doses. Anything I should know about aside from what we talked about before?”

The amusement fled from Medicci's face, her gaze darkening and the corners of her mouth turning downward. “A couple of things. First, once I shaved away the fur around the area, it looked to me as if the chip had been placed fairly recently. The skin had newly healed from an incision. It definitely hadn't been there for several years. Which was odd because I thought the size of the bump was indicative of scar tissue forming around the chip. There
should've
been more scar tissue around it under the skin, developing a sort of sheathe. That wasn't the case.”

Medicci placed a wax-covered object on his desk. Her expression was completely blank. “This is not the microchip any vet anywhere implanted. Military or otherwise.”

David touched the wax. The right length, but flat and rectangular instead of cylindrical. It was a micro SD card, for shit's sake. What was it doing in Atlas?

Of course, he'd seen something like this before in animals and in humans. Hell, people had been known to bury the damn things in open sores on their own bodies, letting the wound scab over. It was scary what a person would do in the face of necessity…or desperation.

He had no idea what to say but Medicci definitely didn't need to know everything. “This is—”

Medicci held up her hands. “It's out. As long as there is no threat to any animal's health under my care, I don't need to know. It's best if I don't, isn't it?”

David nodded, grateful. He'd lie if he had to. But the best lie was one he didn't have to tell. Or truth. That worked well, too, in the proper dosage.

“Keep the incision clean and he'll heal just as fast if not faster than the other injury. If you think there's more, we could do an X-ray at my office to locate any other potential implants. I didn't detect any more bumps under his skin, though.” Medicci headed for the door but paused. “He's a good dog.”

“He is,” David agreed.

And all this time, he'd really been carrying the weight of Calhoun's last message on his shoulders.

He pocketed the micro SD and headed down the hall, finding Lyn with Atlas in the examination room. “How's our guy?”

“Acting like nothing happened.” Lyn laughed, giving Atlas a hearty rub around the shoulders.

Atlas deigned to give David a doggie grin, tongue lolling out. When Lyn's rubbing migrated over his back to his rump, the dog's eyes practically rolled back into his head as if to say,
Oh yeah, that was the spot
.

Atlas had to really trust Lyn to allow her behind him that way and in a dominant position. Even for butt rubs. Usually military work dogs were too dominant and aggressive to let anyone but their handlers such privilege. In Lyn's hands, Atlas could almost be a normal dog.

“Let's keep things easy for him today. You feel comfortable going for a walk around the property? Forte's still on watch this morning and he's got your mobile in case he sees anything on the perimeter cameras.”

Lyn straightened, her expression momentarily somber. “Didn't realize you had video surveillance all around the property.”

“Had it on the entrances before and added more to cover the entire perimeter since last week.” David and the others had considered it previously and cursed themselves for not already having it installed. No matter how quiet the town was where they were located, forewarned was forearmed and they'd corrected the mistake immediately, each of them contributing to the cost from their own private funds. “We'll all have notice if anyone is even snooping around the fences, much less tries to step onto the property again.”

She nodded slowly. “All right.”

Atlas had settled down, sensitive to her change in mood. He'd be hypervigilant with her this agitated. Which was even better. The big dog wouldn't be tempted by random distractions like squirrels or rabbits while Lyn was agitated. No running off chasing furry things or coaxing her to play fetch. He'd stay with her and ensure her safety. He shouldn't be running today anyway.

“Okay. Take a long walk then, and I'll get some administrative work done here. Check back in with you both at lunchtime.”

Lyn nodded. A minute later she had Atlas on a leash and they were out the door.

Back in his office, David dug into one of his drawers. After way longer than he'd like, he came up with a small toolkit. Armed with those tools, a soft cloth, a firm bristled toothbrush and isopropyl alcohol, he went to work. Removing wax from a micro SD card wasn't fun but it wasn't hard either. He'd done it with fewer tools to hand. This time, though, he wanted to do it right in one shot with minimal chance of further complications.

Once the wax was completely removed and he was sure the contacts on the micro SD were perfectly cleaned, he loaded it into his memory card reader. A few minutes to scan for viruses and he had two files, both video. The first was tagged as highlights and the second was significantly bigger, compressed, and encrypted.

Calhoun had intended for David to find these first. David was going to make a guess that he was supposed to view the highlights to get a clearer idea of the issue at hand, then take the time to absorb the other video over more time. First things first. He made copies and backed them to his secure storage, then made secondary backups to his cloud storage. Encrypted.

Then he took his computer offline and double-clicked the video file to watch it.

“What's Calhoun's status?” a voice offscreen asked.

“Stable, sir. He'll live. Unconscious for now.” Only the legs and torso of this speaker were visible.

The camera was low—around waist height or lower. Meaning it was likely a camera attached to a canine tactical assault suit. Probably Atlas's specifically. Normally those cameras were used to give human handlers and the rest of the team knowledge of what lay ahead as the canine took point. In this case, it looked like Calhoun had been injured and Atlas was still in use. Not recommended, but there was usually a backup on the team able to take over the working dog if something should happen to the handler.

“Just as well,” the offscreen speaker said. “Not sure our teammate has the stomach for what we need to do here.”

Not likely. Calhoun had had the balls for anything that needed doing.

The unseen man continued, “We'll use the dog to terrorize the prisoner. Damage to extremities is acceptable but try to keep it limited. We want to be able to patch him up if we need him alive past this evening.”

David set his jaw. It went against his morals to use a dog this way. But war wasn't noble. He'd done things he'd have nightmares about for the rest of his life. He was only sorry Atlas had been commanded to do similar.

The video skipped. Highlights reel, after all.

A man was secured to a chair. He'd been worked over already and there were several more men in the room. Once in a while, a face came into frame and David paused to capture the image of the face. Only a couple; the camera hadn't captured all of them. But he was going to need those for later, especially since the SEALs had covered the name tags on their uniforms for the interrogation.

“Wait! Wait! You want this man? I can give you his location. We can do business.”

English. Fairly well-spoken and with the kind of accent that indicated a higher level of education. David listened more carefully.

“You want him. I want him dead. Kill him for me and I will make sure you and your future company have exclusive business once you are established.”

David stopped the video and replayed. If he'd heard correctly, this wasn't an interrogation anymore. It was evolving into something uglier: a conspiracy.

“It's what you do, isn't it? Once your career is complete with the US military, you go private. Establish a private military company. Mercenaries.” The man was sweating, could barely see out one swollen eye, but no one was stopping him or redirecting his discussion to more pertinent information. They were all listening. “Mercenaries need work. The best work is here. Will be here, for decades to come.”

True. Even once the war was officially over and troops were brought home, the area would be ruled by unrest. Mercenaries had job security in those sorts of hot spots all over the Middle East and surrounding regions.

“I will be the head of my organization. Not some middleman. Don't just capture and interrogate the man you are looking for. Kill your target for me. We will do business for a long time to come.”

An unseen man—probably the commanding officer based on the authority in his tone and the way the men in camera view deferred to him—spoke. “You make a very interesting proposition. We can make a deal.”

Son of a bitch
.

A sunny morning with blue skies and a light breeze went a long way toward banishing her worries. Lyn didn't want to live a paranoid life. Walking with Atlas had been a lot easier than she expected, relaxing even. She babbled about random things like the trees around them and the squirrels she spotted. He listened. He was good like that, being a dog and all.

People made things way the hell too complicated.

This trip, she'd spent far more time than usual pondering her childhood. Contrasting and comparing her experience to what she was learning about David specifically, and Brandon and Alex by virtue of their work at the kennels. They were so very different from the wealthy clients she normally worked with in terms of their knowledge of dogs and the way military life had influenced their life after. They were complex men with simple desires: build a good life, train good dogs.

And they were all single. It hadn't required a morning shopping with Sophie to figure out why, though the woman had provided some interesting insight. Every one of the men, including David, had serious issues to work through.

Lyn's parents had lived walking on eggshells. Too many secrets between them, unresolved misunderstandings, and unaired grievances. They'd remained married but they'd fallen out of love. Lyn had trouble believing maintaining the appearance of propriety had been worth the misery in a loveless marriage. But then, her mother had been married once before and probably preferred the security marriage afforded her.

Lyn's stepfather could've been worse. He could've been abusive, for example, but he hadn't been. He'd just never had a use for Lyn's mother or for Lyn. There'd been so much more important away than there was to pay attention to at home.

She should steer clear of David for those telltales. He preferred to work on a need-to-know basis, and he was the person to decide what she needed to know. It was something she could work through on a professional level but in a personal relationship they were going to slowly deteriorate. She wouldn't be able to stop herself from resenting it over time.

The memory of his kiss stirred up fluttering sensations in her chest and brought heat to her cheeks. He was good. Really good. And the chemistry between them was more intense than anything she'd experienced with anyone else. No way was she going to regret the kisses last night. But what she needed to decide was whether she wanted more.

“Lyn.” David came striding across the grounds.

David standing still was a striking figure. The man in motion was enough to make her stop in her tracks and stare. He had an economy of motion, neat and efficient, but covered distance faster than she imagined a man could just walking. She wondered what he was like running an obstacle course. Actually, she'd pay to watch him traverse one of those. Maybe there was one of those traveling challenges coming through the region in the near future. Sophie would help her enter him.

Plans for another day.

“Change in plans.” David came to a halt a few yards short of them. His jaw was set and he wore a decidedly grim expression.

“For the day?” She considered him. “Or in general?”

“This project with Atlas could be closed out a lot sooner than we planned.” He frowned. “It's not the way I want it to work out, but it might be for the best. You don't want to be involved in what's probably coming next.”

“I'm capable of deciding what I want, given the full picture.” Oh, he was not going to toss her to the curb.

“It'd be safer for you.”

She held up her free hand. “I was attacked in my own hotel room the night I arrived. One of those attackers showed up here the next morning. Now that man is on bail and no one ever found the other guy. Last night you told me I could feel safe here. And now you're telling me it's safer for me to go out there. Make up your damned mind.”

Anger and frustration welled up inside and this time he was not going to dispel it with a kiss. He'd dismissed it, distracted her from it, and done everything to take her attention away from the cause but now he was trying to push her away and this was the limit.

“Why don't we go inside and—” Not a single sign of his truly comprehending showed in his face. He was still focused on getting her to do what he wanted.

“No.” She widened her stance, figuring he couldn't possibly make her move. Atlas came to heel at her side, watching the exchange between her and David intently. “We can talk about this right here. Give me good reasons, supported with real information, and I will make a decision based on those.”

David sighed. “It's better if you—”

“This is not a military operation.” She cut him off. “If we are truly partners working for Atlas's best interest then we share information. Nothing less.”