SEAL of Approval (3 page)

Chapter Three

Head aching Mike
pushed the vet’s door open and strode to the counter. Lifting his sunglasses, he shot the receptionist a weary smile. “Hi, I'm here to see Axe.”

As she opened her mouth to respond, he heard a loud bark from behind her. “That would be him now,” she managed as the aggressive barking continued.

Hangover forgotten, Mike pushed open the door to the recovery area, entered the room and stood dead in his tracks at the sight before him. The Army veterinarian was perched on a steel examination table. Axe had made it half way out of his cage, barking with his hind legs dragging behind him.

Mike approached slowly. “Hey, easy boy, easy.”

Axe’s demeanor changed instantly. His ears rose and he stopped barking. Instead he tried to scrabble across the floor to Mike.

“Axe, stay!” He knelt and lifted the dog back into the cage. Axe gave a soft whimper and licked his face. Mike did his best to make the dog comfortable, stroking his muzzle as he adjusted the bedding. “Hey, it's OK, buddy. I'm here, everything’s going to be fine.”

The vet climbed off the table and hid behind Mike. “He wouldn't let me check the wound. Went crazy as soon as I touched him.”

“I think he's a little stressed from the incident. He should be fine now I'm here.”

The vet squatted alongside him and reached in to check the bandages around the dog’s hind leg.

Axe gave a low growl and bared his teeth.

“Axe, no!”

The vet backed off, raising his hands in the air. “I give up. I can't get close to him. You’re going to have to change his bandages.”

“No problem.” Trained in combat first aid, Mike didn't have any difficulties inspecting the wounds. He checked the flesh around the surgical staples for tenderness and infection, there was none. The vet handed him fresh bandages and he changed the pad covering the wound. Then he sat with the dog, ruffling his ears. Axe's eyes never left the vet. “What's the prognosis, doc?”

The vet leaned against the stainless-steel table watching Axe warily. “The bullet missed the bone but it destroyed a lot of muscle and ligaments. I'm not sure how it’ll heal. Then there's his attitude. If I can't get close to him I can't treat him.”

“I can come in every day.”

“That would help.”

Axe nuzzled Mike’s hand prompting him for another pat. The dog sighed, relaxing, and finally took his eyes off the vet.

“Do you think he'll work again?”

The vet shook his head. “No, his days of chasing down bad guys are over.”

Mike continued to stroke the dog's ears. “You hear that, boy. Looks like it's going to be all ball-chasing and lying in the sun from here on.” In spite of his words, Mike felt empty. The idea of going to work each day, and not having Axe by his side, would take time to come to terms with.

Remembering work, he checked his watch. Crap, he was going to be late. He gave Axe another pat. “I've got to get going, buddy, be good for the doc.”

“That would make a nice change,” said the vet.

Mike closed the dog’s cage. As he rose Axe whined while glancing up at him with sad brown eyes. “Hey, none of that. I'll be back this afternoon.” Mike gave him one last pat through the mesh and followed the vet out into the waiting area.

“He's a good dog, Mike. But, if we can't turn his temperament around we're going to have problems.”

Mike shook his hand. “He'll be fine.” Then he ducked out of the door to his pickup. As he drove across town to Coronado, he couldn't help but worry that Axe’s attitude change might be permanent.

***

Mike
pulled up to the twenty-five yard shooting range and joined the rest of his squad for training.

He spotted TJ at the ammunition point, loading magazines from a box of cartridges. The Chief looked fresh despite a heavy night’s drinking.

“Hey bud, how’s Axe?”

“He’s OK, the wound looks like it’ll heal.” He found his weapons in the squad trunk and laid them on the ground before joining TJ to fill magazines.

Already at the firing point, the other squad members were shooting their suppressed carbines at paper targets.

Mike and TJ worked in silence for a few minutes before TJ spoke again. “You wanna tell me what’s eating at you?”

Mike dropped a half-filled magazine on the bench. “He won’t let the vet near him. I’ve never seen him like this, TJ, his entire temperament has changed.”

“Bud, I’ve seen the same thing in operators. They take a big hit like that and suddenly they’re jumping at shadows and snapping at their closest friends. Sounds like your boy’s got post traumatic stress disorder. When are they going to let you bring him back to work?”

“They’re not. Vet says he’s done.”

“Shit bud.” TJ reached out and grasped his shoulder. “I’m sorry, he was a great working dog.”

“Hey, what’s up?” asked Rick as he and Ernie joined them.

“Axe is going to be retired,” said Mike.

“Ah crap. I’m sorry, dude,” said Ernie.

“That’s shit bro, he’s an amazing dog,” added Rick.

Mike sighed. “The big problem isn’t his leg. He won’t let anyone near him, except me. TJ thinks he might have PTSD.”

Rick nodded. “Yeah that makes sense. Getting shot messes with the best of us. But he’ll be OK in the long run. You’ll keep him, right?”

“How can I? We’re out on jobs every second day and I can’t leave him with just anyone.”

“I’d take him,” added Ernie. “But with the kids…”

“I understand,” said Mike.

“Look, if you need to take some time off I can talk to the Skipper,” said TJ.

“Yeah, I might have to.” Mike picked up his magazine and went back to loading it. The others did likewise.

“Ernie, that little rat dog your mother has,” said Rick. “I remember it being a total shit head. Who sorted it out, when her neighbor’s mutt tried to eat it?”

Ernie scowled. “That ‘rat’ was a pedigree Chihuahua, you idiot. Yeah, someone did help her. My brother found a vet out near Iron Canyon who specializes in traumatized dogs.”

“And she fixed your Mom’s Chihuahua?” asked Mike.

Ernie nodded. “Allegedly, she’s Dr. Doolittle or something.”

Mike managed a laugh. “I think Axe needs something a little heavier duty than a Chihuahua whisperer.”

Ernie shrugged. “Maybe, my brother said she’s real pretty.”

It was Rick’s turn to frown. “What the hell, bro? You never told me about a pretty vet.”

“She’s not your type.”

“Not hot enough?”

“Too smart.”

Laughing, the team moved down to the firing point. For the first time today, Mike managed a smile. It felt good to be surrounded by friends. Finding a spare target, he racked the action on his carbine and readied himself. Then, as he was about to squeeze off a round, his phone rang. Fearing the worst, he pulled it from his pocket and answered.

“So, you’re finally going to answer my calls, Michael,” snapped an angry voice.

Stacey, he mouthed to TJ. “Hey, look I’m–”

“I don’t care!” she screamed.

Wincing, Mike held the phone at arm’s length as she continued to rant. Suddenly, a gloved hand plucked it from his grasp.

“Standby!” TJ held it in the air. Stacey’s voice still screeched from the speaker.

“Ready!” echoed Rick and Ernie, their weapons held tight.

“Up!”

The phone arced high in the air. Rick and Ernie’s weapons spat suppressed rounds as they tracked it. Mike flinched as his smartphone disintegrated in a hail of lead.

“Nice shooting boys,” said TJ. He turned to Mike and winked. “You need to change your number.”

***

A
few hours later Mike and the others were back in the team room when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” bellowed TJ.

One of the headquarters’ administration staff stuck his head inside.

“Hey Mack, what’s up?”

The Sailor gave TJ a nod. “The old man wants to see Mike in his office.”

Mike frowned. “Just me?” It was rare for the Commander to request the presence of an individual SEAL without their Platoon Chief.

“Yes.”

“I’ll get into a clean uniform.”

“No need, boss just wants a chat,” said the sailor. “I tried to call you but your number’s disconnected.”

Mike scowled at TJ. “Yeah, my phone’s shot. I’ve got to get a new one.”

Five minutes later, Mike waited outside Commander Conner’s office. As he waited, he wondered why the ‘old man’ wanted to talk to him. The last time he’d spoken face-to-face with Team Five’s C.O. was when he’d marched into the unit three years earlier. The thirty-five-year-old Commander was a busy man, who rarely had the opportunity to spend individual time with the hundred-odd operators in his SEAL Team.

The door opened and the C.O. appeared. “Mike, come in and take a seat.”

He stepped into the spacious office and sat in the chair opposite the commander. In the few seconds it took Conner to return to his desk Mike scanned the room. The walls were adorned with a handful of framed photos and plaques, but there were fewer than he expected for a ranking officer. In the corner, on a wooden stand, hung the commander’s combat vest and helmet.

“Mike, I wanted to personally break this news to you. I know how important Axe is to you and your squad.” He frowned as he pushed a piece of paper across his desk. “The veterinarian has submitted his report. The Navy has chosen to discharge Axe.”

Mike nodded as he scanned the document. The information wasn’t surprising. Axe was incapable of working and the Navy had no use for a Military Working Dog that couldn’t work.

“There’s more.”

Mike glanced up. The commander continued, “Mike, the Navy is going to have him put down.”

The words hit like a punch to the chest. “What? Boss, they can’t do that. He saved my life. Axe is a goddamn hero.”

Conner exhaled. “I know Mike, but it’s out of my control. The Navy can’t risk retiring a dog that may attack someone. The vet submitted his report and the decision was made well above my pay grade. I tried to convince them otherwise, but they won’t be swayed.”

Mike swallowed hard. He wasn’t about to shed a tear in front of his commanding officer. If the Navy had decided his dog’s fate, there was nothing the C.O. could do.

“If you need any time off, Chief Lines will look after it. I’ve already spoken to him.”

Mike nodded grimly.

“Son, as far as I am concerned that dog and you are both heroes. I wish there was more I could do.”

Mike left the commander’s office fighting the urge to punch the walls and scream with rage. Instead, he decided to confront the vet who had condemned his best friend to death. If he could convince him he wasn’t dangerous, then maybe he could have the order revoked.

“Where you going, bud?” TJ’s gravelly voice caught him by surprise.

Glancing left he spotted the Chief, Rick and Ernie waiting for him.

“They’re going to kill Axe,” said Mike.

TJ nodded. “We know.”

Mike noticed the men were carrying black equipment bags. “What’s going on?”

Ernie gave his bag a pat. “We grabbed some gear for tonight’s job.”

“What job?”

TJ wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Operation Lumberjack. We’re going to recover the Axe.”

“We never leave a man behind, brother,” added Rick. “Compared to hunting cartel douche bags this’ll be a walk in the park.”

“You do know he’s being held on a Marine base?”

TJ chuckled. “Goddamn Taliban, Al-Qaida, Sinaloa, and Libyan bastards couldn’t stop me. What makes you think a pack of Jarheads are gonna do any better?”

Chapter Four

Car
headlights swept the parking lot of the veterinary facility. A vehicle pulled into a driveway on the opposite side of the street. It was three in the morning; late for a serviceman to be out on a Tuesday night.

Drunken singing carried on the night air. The driver helped her rather intoxicated Marine from the car up to the front door and they disappeared inside. A moment later the first-floor lights came on.

Mike’s radio crackled as Ernie reported in. “Drunk leatherneck is home. We’re all clear.”

“OK Rick, let’s do this,” whispered Mike from where they hid in the trees at the edge of the parking lot. A dozen feet away Ernie lay in a thicket, where he kept watch on the road to the clinic. TJ waited in a minivan, parked up the road ready to make the pickup.

Rick led as they strolled casually from the trees, across the parking lot to the front door of the facility. Mike removed a lock-pick kit from his backpack. After inspecting the door, he chose the appropriate tool. Then, as he made to insert it, Rick slid a key into the lock.

“Where the hell did you get that?”

Rick flashed one of his signature smiles. “From Veronica.” He pushed open the door and they slipped inside.

“Who the hell’s Veronica?” asked Mike as an alarm gave a warning beep. He spotted the panel and made his way toward it.

“You know. The receptionist.”

Mike stopped in his tracks. “You’ve been seeing the vet nurse? Bud, you talked to her for like three minutes.”

He strolled nonchalantly across to the security panel and punched in a code. “Hey, what can I say? Ladies love the Rick.”

The beeping stopped.

“She gave you the code?”

“Yeah, once I let her know how heartbroken you are about Axe. Told her you were weeping like a little girl. You should have seen it. Heart melted in about five seconds flat.”

“Does TJ know about this?”

“Of course he does. Gramps knows everything. Now let’s find that crazy mutt of yours and get the hell out of here.”

Mike held up his hand. “Wait, so what happens when Axe is discovered missing and there’s no sign of a break in?”

Rick winked. “I’ve got a plan for that.”

They crept through the foyer, down a short corridor into the recovery room. Mike eased the door open. “Axe, it’s me buddy.” Using a flashlight he located the cage and opened it. The dog gave a single excited bark.

Rick gave Axe a pat. “Hey bro.”

Mike scooped the dog out of the cage and cradled him against his chest as he would a child. “Right, let’s get out of here.”

As they made their way back to the front door Rick contacted TJ on the radio. “We’re ready for pickup, Pops.”

The radio crackled. “You’re ready for a punch in the face.”

Rick laughed as they paused at the door and waited for the minivan to pull in to the parking lot. Once it stopped at the entrance he slid open the door and they loaded Axe inside.

Mike waited as Rick reactivated the alarm and locked the front door. Then TJ passed a wrench through the driver’s window. Rick used it to smash one of the windows. As he leapt into the van a siren wailed.

“That’s your plan?” Mike asked.

As TJ drove the van out of the parking lot Ernie leapt in through the open door and Rick slammed it shut. “Damn straight. And might I add it’s pretty much the best plan ever.”

“Not bad, Rick. Now shut your pie hole,” snapped TJ.

Rick whispered, “He doesn’t like his call sign.”

Mike cradled Axe’s head on his lap. “Guys, you’re the best.”

“You’re not going to cry are you?” asked Rick.

“Rick, shut your pie hole,” Mike said.

Twenty minutes later, Axe was sleeping on a duvet at the end of Mike’s bed as the men discussed the dog’s future over a beer in the living room.

“What’s your plan now you’ve got him here?” TJ asked as he sucked back a
Coors
.

Mike let his shoulders drop as he sat on the couch. “I guess I’m gonna have to do something about his temperament or I won’t be able to leave him with anyone when we’re on jobs.”

“So you’re going to keep him?” asked Rick.

“I can’t trust him with anyone else.”

“You need to take him to the vet I told you about. She’ll sort him out,” said Ernie.

Rick grinned. “Any luck–”

“Pie hole, Rick,” said TJ.

Laughter filled the room as Mike took a swig from his beer. For the first time since Axe had been shot he felt hopeful. “OK, I’ll take him in to see her first thing tomorrow. TJ, do you mind if I’m a little late for work.”

“Take the day off.”

“What about us?” Rick asked.

“Ernie can have a late start. You and I are going running, got to burn off all that pie you’ve been shoving in your hole.”

***

“
Well
, this is it, bud.” Mike opened the passenger door of his pickup and lifted Axe out. He carried the wounded dog across a dusty parking lot into the waiting room of the Iron Canyon Veterinary Clinic.

A female receptionist looked up and smiled. “Hi.”

“Hi. We’re here to see Doctor Alison Taylor.”

“Perfect timing. Her last patient finished up early so you can take him straight through.”

“Thanks.” Mike pushed the door open with his foot and carried Axe into the examination room.

Doctor Taylor greeted him with a bright smile. “Hello. You can put him down over there.” She gestured to a table.

Mike saw immediately why Ernie’s brother thought she was cute. A brunette with a button nose, lush mouth and green eyes, she wasn’t what he’d call a stunner but more the girl next door. He judged her height at around five-foot-six. Not short, but by no means tall. And, while she wore baggy scrubs, they couldn’t hide her curvy figure. Not really his type, but then this wasn’t about him.

“Mike, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, you must be Alison.”

She nodded as she washed her hands. “On the phone you said he was shot?”

Mike kept a close eye on Axe as the dog surveyed the room, every muscle tense. “Correct, he’s a Military Working Dog. Discharged as a result of the injury.”

“And it was a little over two weeks ago?”

“Yes, he’s recovering well but–”

“His temperament has changed?” Alison added as she dried her hands.

Mike nodded.

“I see that a lot with heavy trauma. I get a lot of dogs with PTSD from being hit by cars or attacked by another animal.” She approached Axe. “OK handsome, let’s have a look at you.”

The dog’s ears flattened against his skull and he bared his teeth.

“Axe, no!”

Alison lifted a hand to silence Mike. “It’s fine. He’s just letting me know he’s not happy. You’d never bite me would you, Axe?”

Her question was answered with another savage growl.

Mike frowned. “Axe! Look, I’m not so sure about that. I wouldn’t–”

“No, it’s OK. Mike, it might be better if you waited outside. Axe seems to be taking a lot of his cues from you.”

His eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you’ve been as traumatized as he has. You’re tense and worried. Totally understandable, but your energy isn’t helping the situation.”

“Now hang on a second. I’m a qualified dog handler. We’ve been working together for three years. If anyone understands how he feels, it’s me.”

She nodded. “That’s exactly my point. Listen, I don’t mind if you stay. But I want you to sit down over there and keep quiet.” She pointed to a chair against the wall.

He slumped into the seat and crossed his arms.

“Let’s try again, Axe.” The vet took a liver treat from a jar and extended it on her open palm. “Are you going to be a good boy?”

The dog glanced at Mike but he ignored him.

Alison took a step closer. “Good boy, Axe.” Slowly, inch-by-inch, she made her way closer. The dog’s nostrils flared as he inhaled the scent of the dried meat. When she was close enough, his tongue shot out and scooped it off her palm.

“Tasty isn’t it?”

Alison was now standing less than a foot from the dog. He eyed her suspiciously as he chewed the snack.

Mike bit his tongue as she reached out to pat his head. He saw the dog’s lip lift in a half growl.

She displayed no fear, instead ruffled his ears. “Hey now, none of that.”

Mike watched with growing disbelief as Axe let the vet inspect his wound without growling. “I’ll be damned,” he murmured.

The dog remained silent but watched Alison’s every move.

“You’re healing well, handsome man,” she patted his head again. “Mike, can you put him on the ground so I can see how he walks.”

He shook his head. “He can’t walk, he’s still wounded.”

The vet’s lips thinned. “Has he tried?”

“Look, I’m not a complete fool. I’ve had a few years experience with dogs and I don’t think he’s ready.”

She raised her eyebrows. “And I guess my seven years of study and five in practical experience counts for nothing?”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He gently lifted Axe from the table and placed him on the floor.

The dog lay still on the tiles, his injured leg extended at an award angle.

Mike slumped back in the chair. “See.”

Alison shook her head and took another treat from the jar. Squatting a few yards in front of Axe, she offered it to him. “Hey buddy, do you want this?”

His ears angled forward and his tail thumped the floor. His floppy ear bounced up and down.

Mike smiled. “Come on boy,” he murmured.

Axe glanced at him, and then at the treat, and back to his partner. Then, with little effort, he climbed to his feet, walked forward and gently took it from her hand.

Mike didn’t miss how he kept the wounded leg hitched high.

“Good boy.” Alison ruffled his ears again. “Now let’s go for a little walk.” She took a lead from a hook on the wall, clipped it to his collar and led him slowly around the room.

Mike caught the dog’s eye as they turned and walked back toward him. “Traitor,” he mouthed. “So what do you think?” he asked gruffly, folding his arms.

“I think he’s a beautiful animal who needs a little care. But most importantly, you need to stop treating him like a person.”

It was Mike’s turn to frown. “I don’t treat him like a person.”

“Listen, I know you’ve been through a lot with Axe. But he doesn’t need your sympathy. He needs your leadership. He needs you to be strong, to tell him what to do.”

Mike slumped back in the chair and closed his eyes. For a split second, he was transported back to Mexico, back to the moment when Axe was shot. If he had moved a little faster, he might have been able to save the dog from being wounded. It was a moment he had relived repeatedly since that day.

“Mike, Mike.”

Alison’s voice snapped him back to the present.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I spaced out. Yes, I hear you.” He focused on Alison and realized she was watching him closely.

“Mike, how would you feel about Axe staying here at the clinic? Only for a week or two. You seem to have a lot on your mind and he would really benefit from intensive therapy. You could come and see him every day.”

Mike nodded. “That would be good. I’ve got to work.”

Her beaming smile instantly made him hopeful. Things would work out. Axe would be healed and maybe, just maybe, they’d be a team again. He said his farewells to the dog, then set up an account with the vet’s assistant on his way out. As he pushed open the door to leave, he almost ran into a middle-aged blonde and two young children. “Morning, ma’am.” He held open the door as the family passed through, then was on his way.

“Who the hell is that?” Leonie asked Alison when she joined her sister in the waiting area.

“Just a guy with an injured dog. How have you been?”

“I think you mean ‘a total hunk’ with an injured dog. You should definitely hit that.”

Alison laughed. “Can you get your mind out of the gutter?” She glanced out the window as Mike climbed into his truck.

“Not when it’s led there by an ass like that. So what’s his story?”

“He’s arrogant, over-confident and military. Not my type at all.” She squatted to embrace her nieces.

“Handsome, fit, confident and a dog guy. No, you’re right. He doesn’t sound anything like your type.”

“He’s got issues, Leonie. Now, where do you want to go for brunch?”

“Perfect, you’re always saving strays and you could do wonders with him.”

She tucked one squealing child under each arm and hoisted the toddlers off the ground. “I’m a veterinarian, not a psychologist.”

“Oh please. Men and dogs have so much in common. All they need is a pat, good food and–”