Blind Rage: Team Red, Book 4 (4 page)

“We’ll stay stationary until the first vehicle reaches a point Red barks, indicating the link has dropped,” Dex said. “Fritz will back up until the link reconnects, and Russ will take the reading. Afterward, the first vehicle will wait until Red indicates he’s got a solid second link, and Fritz will drive again until Red loses that one, too. Jaspar has a cell phone line open with Eddie in case Red says something to you which needs to be relayed to the other car.”

Red focused on something Russ was telling him—probably some last minute instruction regarding how to let them know when the link dropped. There was a typical German shepherd head tilt, and Red told me,
“Does Russ think I have attention deficit disorder? He’s speaking really slow, repeating the same plan I told you on the stairs.”

To Jaspar, I said, “Let Russ know, Red understands what he’s supposed to do. He has a great memory.”

I listened to Jaspar relay the message via his cell phone. Through Red’s vision, I saw Russ look away from the dog to glance back at our SUV. I guess he was surprised Red would talk back, even if it was through a proxy. Oh, this was going to be a fun morning, I thought, smiling to myself.

The first vehicle began to drive off, the pace slow. I watched the surrounding landscape until the SUV reached the main road, probably a quarter mile from the house. The connection severed abruptly, as expected. Red and I discovered the mind-speak and mind-sight didn’t fade with distance; it was either on or off. I waited for a moment, knowing Fritz would back up until Red let them know to stop.

“Mark,” I said aloud, automatically, as my sight returned. Red had a paw on Russ’ thigh, and I could see Eddie looking down at his cell phone as Jaspar confirmed the first marker.

“Lights off, Teresa,”
Red warned, and my vision went black.

There was another minute or two before I felt the blankness from our mind-speak communication severing. “Gone,” I repeated, knowing Fritz would be performing the same reverse move to find the exact spot.

The separating link was a disconcerting feeling. Even when Red wasn’t speaking, he and I could both feel some kind of presence, and the absence when the open line between us dropped off. Red and I were still unsure how it worked, but it seems to be instigated on his side, with me acting as a receiver. Only a few days ago, Gil suggested, “I think the ability to communicate with Red lies in Teresa’s capacity as a receiver. If that’s the case, could she connect with more than one dog? Shoot!” he further theorized, “Is it even limited to dogs?”

Gil’s notion intrigued me. I had never considered I might be able to communicate with animals besides Red. How would I even attempt to test the idea? What prompted Red to say those first couple of words to me? Since I don’t hear unfiltered dog thoughts all day long, I assumed he had to concentrate to send. Who knows?

I felt the invisible “snap” as our link went active again. “There.”

“Huge difference from marker one. ‘Bout a mile ‘n a half’s my guess,” Frost told me.

“We are on the bridge over the Little Spokane River,”
Red told me.

“Mmm, according to Red, they are stopped on the bridge. That’s almost two miles away.” I was familiar with the trails and roadways from all my hiking.

“By road, maybe,” Jaspar conceded, “but as the crow flies, it’s not as far. We’ll have a better figure once Russ plugs the coordinates into the computer.”

My cell phone chimed, “I’m Sexy and I Know It.” I grinned, Bastian’s ringtone. “Hey!” I greeted.

“Hey, back at’cha, Babe. You’re at two thirds of a mile on the first mark, and just over a mile and a half on the second.”

“How in the hell do you know that?” I asked. “Did you GPS the vehicles again?” This was a poke directed at Bas and David’s sabotaging each other’s dates with me last year. All I will admit to is questionably-legal electronics may have been involved.

There was a warm, sexy chuckle in my ear. “Not this time. I have drones following the vehicles. It wasn’t hard to guess what was happening. The drones fed me the coordinates when the vehicles halted, and I plotted them in the topographical mapping program. This is amazing, Babe. You and Red have almost doubled your range in less than a month. Must be getting a boost from all the coffee you drink,” he teased.

“Never underestimate the power of the almighty coffee bean,” I told him, sagely, taking a warming sip.

“You guys have fun. I’ll be pulling the streaming video drones back, as I want to give you some privacy.” Withdrawing video now was to prevent the PreClan security team, manning the computer program from the basement, from seeing, and possibly understanding, the mind-sight demonstration. “I’ll keep a couple of the heat seekers pointed your way, to make sure the area is clear of wandering hikers.”

“Thanks Bas. I’ll relay the information to the team. See you in a couple hours. Get back to work, you slacker.”

His laugh was warm and intimate, as he ended the call.

I relayed Bas’ information to Jaspar, knowing he’d tell Russ about the drones.

Red’s laughter filled my mind.
“Everyone’s head just went out the window and they’re looking up at the trees.”

Oh, man. Where’s a camera when you need one? Wait! Maybe Bas hadn’t pulled the video drones yet. I’d have to ask him if he can give me a still snapshot of the first vehicle going down the road with the men’s faces out the window like a car full of canines. Kinda like the Team Red version of those poker playing dogs. We could put the picture on our Team Red t-shirts.

Chapter Four

** 10:00
, Thursday - Jan 10
th
**

The demonstration should have taken twenty minutes. Half an hour max. What I hadn’t figured into my mental equation was uber-anal-retentive Russ and his video camera (I swear, it was the size of a convection oven) combined with Red, and his ego (which I’m positive, had swollen to the same size).

Forty-five minutes after we parked near the trails outside the fish hatchery, I was still sitting in the warmth of the SUV while Cecil B DeMille, errr… I mean, Russ Thomas, taped my German shepherd striking hero poses, according to the periodic updates from the guys, for his first ever Team Red video. Sheesh! Granted, a video had been my idea, so Red and I didn’t have to keep doing demonstrations to prove our abilities, but who knew it would become a major studio production?

We completed a mind-speak video segment yesterday, with the Team Red guys selecting items from around the house for Red to identify. There were also whispers in his ear, which I dutifully recited back to the gathered crowd. The video was edited to under ten minutes, but we had worked on it for almost two hours. Red and I were finding it difficult to conceal the mind-speaking from the security people, as we had them living underfoot. We used our mind connection without thought, while in the comfort of our own home, and a few of the men had commented.

Today we were going to show the mind-vision capabilities, and Russ thought it would be more of an impact to capture the surprised expressions on the detail’s faces when the big reveal was made.

Smothering a yawn with the back of my hand, I reached for my coffee mug only to growl in irritation; it was just as empty as when I’d checked it fifteen minutes ago. I was still glaring at the cup in my hand when the back-passenger door opened beside me. My irritation must have been evident, as Frost mumbled, “Uh, oh,” before slamming the door shut again.

A moment later, the opposite door cracked open, slowly. What? Was I a wild beast he felt he had to approach cautiously? The scent of coffee reached me before I registered Frost speaking. “Huh?”

He repeated, “Fritz’ coffee. Lukewarm. Takes it black, like you. Left it unattended in t’ other vehicle. Fair game, right?”

I had no pride, and without hesitation, reached for the pilfered coffee with a groan of appreciation. “You are now, officially, my favorite guard,” I said solemnly.

Frost snorted. “Yeah, ‘til t’ next guy commits a crime to place a cup in your hands,” he laughed. I sighed, wanting to protest but it was undoubtedly true. “Ole Rin Tin Tin there’s jus’ ‘bout done hamming for Russ. Prob’ly five minutes ‘til show time. Gonna tell me wha’s really goin’ on?”

Bas and I had a pretty good idea Frost suspected Red and I shared additional abilities. He didn’t talk much, but he was very observant. “You’re right. There’s more to this thing between Red and me; but truly Frost, you won’t believe it unless we show you.”

Frost was silent for only a moment, before he answered, “Believe, if you tol’ me.”

I weighed his words, and decided he’d already committed misdemeanor coffee theft for me, that alone was deserving of a show of faith. “Red and I share vision too. That’s what the first marker was for, the range for mind-sight. The second reading we took was the range for mind-speak.”

He was quiet again, in that considering way he had, when measuring words as if he had to pay dearly for each one he used. “Makes sense. Knew there was more. Hadn’t considered he’s an actual
seeing
eye dog.” There was another short pause, before he added, “Glad I signed on, Teresa. Life’s more interestin’ wi’ you ‘n Red.”

“We’re ready, Teresa! We’re going to make a moooovieeeee!”
Red’s enthusiasm was infectious. I could practically feel him quiver with excitement.
“Lights on.”

“Red and I are now linked for mind-sight. Apparently, the director is waiting on me,” I laughed, gulping the last of my liquid contraband. “Show time.”

Through Red’s eyes, I watched myself step out of the vehicle. From habit, Frost came to my door to offer an elbow, but I declined, indicating the demonstration had started. With the confidence of a person fully-sighted, I maneuvered over a berm, circumvented a few trees, and wound my way along the narrow trail of slushy snow the men had cut with their boots. Behind me, Frost chuckled. “Jazz jus’ figured out you’re gettin’ ‘round without guidance,” he stated, referring to Jaspar by his call name. “Look on his face’s priceless; ‘n Russ’ capturin’ the whole thing on his phone’s video recorder.”

“I thought Russ said, ‘No cell phone video,’ during this outing?”

“Yeah. Guess t’ rule don’ go for hi’self,” Frost replied.

“Well, who’s running the main camera?” Red projected a panoramic view into my mind, but the primary camera was not in his field of view, so it must be behind my dog.

“That’d be Eddie, ‘n his head popped up from behind t’ lens like a groundhog,” Frost laughed. “He jus’ caught on t’ what he’s filmin.’ Fritz is puzzled, ‘n Dex doesn’t look surprised.”

“Those two worked with us before, at the Black and White Gala, last November. Dex is pretty observant, like yourself,” I complimented, with an automatic glance over my shoulder. To an observer, it must have looked interesting for me to be looking in the opposite direction my feet were heading, but that was part of the statement we wanted to make. I wasn’t seeing through my eyes, I was seeing through Red’s.

“Incoming,” I warned, ducking to avoid a snowball Russ lobbed at us. It went over my body, hitting Frost in the chest. He stopped dead in his tracks, staring down in surprise at the splash of snow against his jacket. I’m not a woman you’d consider a giggler, but I came pretty close as I watched his face morph with indignation. The glare aimed at his boss was, well, frosty.

“Payback’s a bitch, sir,” he stated, flatly.

Russ laughed, unconcerned he’d been threatened by the steel-eyed man. “I should dock your pay, for being hit in the first place, Frost. Your reflexes are usually faster.”

“Drones indicate nearest hikers, two miles off. Didn’t watch for friendly fire. Won’t make same mistake again, sir.” Frost’s words were abrupt, delivered in a cold, unemotional monotone—he completely ruined the effect when he winked at Red.

As I approached the group, Red glanced up at the men so I could observe their varied facial expressions. Frost was correct, the team wore universally puzzled frowns, with the exception of Dex, who seemed smug. “I knew you weren’t completely blind,” he crowed, waving a hand in front of my face. “I guessed it at the ball.”

“It was a good guess, Dex, but a wrong one,” I told him. “My eyes don’t work, but Red’s do.” I waited for a few heartbeats to see if anyone would follow that thought to the correct conclusion. “Through the mind link I share with Red, not only can we mind-speak, I can see what he sees.”

“Bullshit!” Eddie spat, surprising me with his vehemence. Red turned to focus on him in time for me to see he was tightening something on the tripod before stepping around the camera to join the semi-circle made by the group. The blinking camera light indicated it was still recording.

“There’s one in every crowd,” I laughed, reaching a hand toward Russ, who grumbled as he reached for his wallet, extracting a bill. Red watched the exchange closely, letting me see the twenty dollar note. I love betting on sure things, and so, I had wagered Russ there would be at least one guy on the detail who wouldn’t be convinced by the first demonstration. Not bothering to hide my smug smile of victory, I folded the twenty and slid it into my back pocket.

Realizing the men would need further confirmation, before we left the house, I’d asked them to write a personal message on a piece of paper, which should be folded in their back pockets. Each man, under the watchful eye of the camera, held their page up for only Red to see, and I recited the contents. Dex and Fritz selected a few lines of song lyrics. Frost, in a precise, flowing script, surprisingly, wrote out a soliloquy from Hamlet (surprising, as that book was not one in my library). Jaspar held up a page torn from a Hot Rod magazine, while Eddie presented his six-item shopping list. The demonstration went flawlessly, although I teased Eddie about his terrible handwriting, which made deciphering his list a bit challenging.

In the end, the men agreed it couldn’t be a hoax; then the questions started. Russ filled in some of the blanks when the men appeared to need further explanation, but we got through the basics fairly quickly.

Yes, Red can use mind-speak and mind-sight simultaneously, but he has to concentrate more to do both together. We also made sure the men understood we could typically hold the visual link for ten or fifteen minutes at a time before Red needed a break. There seemed to be no limitation on how long, or often, we could mind-speak, we used it on and off as long as we were in range.

No, Red couldn’t read my mind. And, no, I couldn’t hear or see through any other animals. There was discussion around the theory I was a receiver, and Red had to project his thoughts at me—this seemed reinforced by the fact I didn’t hear his random thoughts during the day. I explained how we could feel the connection break, even if we weren’t actively using the links. For example, when Red went to the store with Ken, we both could feel the moment the vehicle drove out of range.

Finally, I reviewed a dog’s limited color spectrum, with its absence of green and red—like a color blind person. Especially at close range, Red’s vision wasn’t as sharp as a human’s 20/20, but still very clear, and we had an advantage in the evening hours when I could see objects in dusk which I didn’t remember seeing so easily through my old sight. The men were fascinated with the enhanced peripheral vision. A dog’s eyes are set more to the side of the head than a person, giving them a wider peripheral view.

“Do you find yourself watching a lot of cats and squirrels?” Dex teased.

“Not too often,” I laughed. “We sever the connection when Red is physically active, as I get dizzy when his head swings from side to side, or when he’s running. It’s a lot like looking at a photograph. If you take a still picture of a cat, you can see everything in the photograph: the cat, furniture in the background, the rug pattern, even reflections in the windows. I am not limited to what Red is focused on. Right now, Red is watching my face, but in his peripheral vision, I watched Dex wad up his song lyrics page and place it in his front, right coat pocket. I see the deer crossing the road behind me, as well as woodpeckers flirting at the base of the tree fifty yards to my right. I also see the…” I turned and waved over my shoulder, “…the drone hovering up in the treetops.” Red shifted his focus to show me two more, quietly holding a pattern south of where we stood. Automatically, I looked in that direction, and the men’s gazes followed mine. “Arggh,” I growled, frustrated, “I have been trying to break myself of the habit of looking toward what I am watching through Red. It’s a dead giveaway.”

Russ addressed the men, “As the Team Red security detail, you’ll need to remind Teresa when she does something which could give away her mind-sight. A discrete hand on her arm, to bring her attention to you. Or, if you have an opportunity to deflect attention, feel free to take initiative—drop something on the floor, or ask a question. I’m sure each of you understands the importance, and the possibilities, presented by what you’ve observed this morning.”

“For the mind-sight, we use the term ‘lights on’ to indicate Red should send me visual. When we are done, we use ‘lights off.’ If you feel we are in an emergency, any of you can tell Red ‘lights on’ or ‘off.’ Red will mentally speak a warning to me before he gives me visual, or turns it off. Warnings were one of the rules we put in place so I don’t get surprised when I’m suddenly hit with a head full of bright light. There are also times when unanticipated withdrawal is dangerous, for example if I’m walking down stairs, and he disconnected abruptly.”

“How disorienting is mind vision?” Frost asked, striking me once again with his perception.

“Connecting is always a bit of a shock,” I admitted. “As much as I value being able to see, imagine you’ve been in a totally dark room for a day, then someone flips a switch, flooding the room with one-hundred-watt light. I’m lucky, my eyes don’t need to make a physical adjustment, as this is all, literally, in my head. Regardless of whether Red is at my side, or in another room, there is still a split second where I need to absorb what I’m seeing, and mentally put things into their proper places. There is also disorientation because what I see is not necessarily what is in front of me, and never from my own perspective, since Red is at thigh-height.”