About the Book
Our canine hero is back on duty…
When injured war hero Charlie finally returns to SAS service, he no longer needs Caesar’s help as a care dog. Caesar can go back to being a super-sniffing explosive detection dog in the Australian Army.
On their first mission back together, Caesar and his handler, Ben, discover a bomb at the Sydney Opera House, targeting the visiting secretary-general of the United Nations.
A fortnight later, while on a peace mission in Afghanistan, the secretary-general’s helicopter goes down and he is captured by the Taliban. Caesar, Ben and Charlie join an international team to rescue him. Will they succeed? An experimental mini-submarine might help – and Caesar’s famous nose is sure to sniff out trouble along the way.
Contents
Cover
About the Book
Title
Dedication
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
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
List of Characters
List of Military Terms
Fact File
Also by Stephen DandoCollins
About the Author
Copyright Notice
Loved the book?
For Louise, who has trained me well.
With grateful thanks to Richard and Zoe.
And for the many fans of Caesar the War Dog who couldn’t wait for the next adventure to begin: Seek on!
In the golden glow of dawn, an Australian Army Black Hawk helicopter swept in low over Sydney Harbour. Below, ferries, water taxis, speedboats and yachts were already out on the water, leaving foaming white trails behind them. Inside the helicopter’s passenger compartment, Sergeant Ben Fulton of the Special Operations Engineer Regiment (SOER) sat in full combat rig of bulletproof vest, camouflage jacket and trousers. A holstered Browning Hi Power 9 mm automatic pistol was strapped low on his right thigh, and a rappelling harness covered his torso. Leather combat gloves moulded to his hands so precisely they were like a second skin. On the belt around his waist were a full water canteen, a sheathed combat knife, spare Browning magazines and two pouches – the larger one empty, the smaller one containing dog biscuits.
The helicopter’s side doors were open, and the combined noise of the aircraft’s engines, spinning rotors and slipstream was almost deafening. Headphones covering Ben’s ears protected him from the noise and allowed him to listen to the exchanges between the Black Hawk’s four-man crew.
‘Two minutes to insertion, Sergeant Fulton,’ the pilot’s voice crackled in Ben’s ears.
A small microphone attached to the end of a stalk that projected from Ben’s headset permitted him to talk to pilot and crew. ‘Copy that, skipper,’ he replied.
Between Ben’s legs sat a brown labrador – Caesar, the most celebrated and decorated explosive detection dog, or EDD, in Australian military history. Caesar was calm and content despite the noisy, windy ride. He wore an operational harness, doggles (the custom-made goggles used by Special Forces dogs on airborne missions) and puppy Peltors, which are ear-protectors for dogs.
Briefly lifting the puppy Peltor from Caesar’s right ear, Ben yelled above the din of engines and rotors, ‘Here we go again, mate.’
By way of reply, Caesar turned and licked his handler on the cheek. Ben ruffled Caesar’s neck, smiling, then sat up and began to check his equipment one last time. Everything about Caesar’s demeanour told Ben that his EDD was thrilled to be with him and back on operations. What a road they had travelled since they’d last been in action together. That had been in Afghanistan when EDD and handler were separated during a gruelling firefight with the Taliban. Ben had been seriously wounded and his best friend, Sergeant Charlie Grover of the Special Air Service Regiment, had lost his legs in a rocket-propelled grenade blast.
For thirteen long months Caesar went missing in Afghanistan while Ben and his family back home had tried desperately to track him down. And then one day Sergeant Tim McHenry of the US Rangers spotted Caesar performing in a two-man travelling circus at a remote forward operating base in Uruzgan Province and had commenced the process to reunite Ben and Caesar. Six months later, upon Caesar’s return to Australia, Ben had done what many had considered a strange thing. Knowing that Charlie was struggling with his recovery, and with the agreement of his children, Ben had given his beloved Caesar to Charlie to serve as his care dog.
Charlie and Caesar had been a great pairing, with Charlie teaching Caesar more than a hundred hand signal commands. Though Caesar had been loyal to Charlie, Ben had known that deep down Caesar was missing him and his explosives detection work, just as Ben and his family were missing Caesar. During that time Ben worked with another EDD, Soapy. But Soapy was no Caesar. And, sadly, Soapy was later found to be suffering from a hearing defect. Deafness is a problem developed by some labradors as they grow older, and what Ben had thought to be disobedience was in fact the result of Soapy’s failing hearing.
A deaf or partially deaf EDD is not a dog that can be used for military field work. Soapy was a danger to himself, to his handler and to the troops around them. Learning of Soapy’s condition, the Special Operations Engineer Regiment had decided that he was to be immediately retired.
Just as Ben was arranging for Soapy to live with a kind family in Holsworthy, he’d received a call from Charlie. After the two old friends caught up on each other’s news, Ben was intrigued to hear how Charlie was finding his brand-new prosthetic legs.
‘They fit like a glove, mate,’ Charlie had replied. ‘So much so, I’m planning to go back on SAS ops.’
‘Really?’ Ben had said, incredulous. ‘No one’s ever done that before.’
‘I know. General Jones wants me to take the SAS selection course on the new legs. When I pass, I get to go back on ops.’ Charlie had taken that course years before to get into the SAS and had passed with flying colours. But that had been on two good legs.
‘Ah,’ Ben had responded, ‘I guess the general expects you to flunk the course this time because of your prosthetics.’
‘I’m sure he does, and I’m going to prove him wrong, Ben,’ Charlie had defiantly declared.
Charlie had been so confident he would pass the test he’d promptly returned Caesar to Ben. And here they were – Ben and Caesar, a team once more, to the delight of both. Prior to this they’d undertaken a two-week EDD refresher course at the Holsworthy Army Barracks, with Caesar showing that he’d lost none of his incredible ability to sniff out even the faintest hint of explosives. But that had only been practice. Today, Ben and Caesar were on a live op, tasked with helping to protect one of the most important people on the planet – the secretary-general of the United Nations, who was scheduled to open the World Peace Conference at the Sydney Opera House later in the day.
‘Thirty seconds,’ came the pilot’s voice.
‘Copy that,’ Ben replied, before removing his headset and strapping on his Kevlar combat helmet. From now on he would receive and transmit messages with the crew via hand signals. Ben slid goggles from the helmet down over his eyes, clipped a line to Caesar’s harness, gave him a reassuring pat then rose to his feet.
His tail wagging, Caesar looked up. The expectant expression on his face seemed to say, Ready to have fun when you are, boss. To Caesar, EDD
work was all fun.
Ben hooked his own harness to the rappelling line, then looked out of the heelo’s open door. The day’s first rays of sunlight glinted off the tiles of the sweeping, curved sails of the Sydney Opera House. Ben never ceased to marvel at the beauty of this world-famous harbourside structure, but today he had no time to admire the architecture. As Ben stood in one doorway, a crewman manoeuvred Caesar to the other. Taking up the slack on the line attached to the labrador’s harness, the crewman knelt beside him with one hand gripping Caesar.
Caesar was completely at ease. Standing in the doorway, he poked his snout out into the early morning air and revelled in the slipstream rushing over his face. To him, it was just like sticking his nose out a speeding car’s window – but better!
The Black Hawk pulled up abruptly, its nose rising a little before levelling out to hover fifty metres above a courtyard on the northern, harbour side of the Opera House. The Black Hawk crewman nearest to him sent Ben’s rappelling line snaking down to the brick paving of the courtyard below.
‘Line down,’ the crewman informed the pilot.
‘It’s a “go” for insertion,’ the pilot instructed.
The crewman gave Ben the thumbs up. With a nod, Ben launched himself out the door. In a matter of seconds, he rappelled down the line, sliding expertly to the ground. After unhitching his harness, Ben looked up at the Black Hawk and gave a thumbs up to the aircrew. Caesar was then eased out the second door and quickly lowered. All the way down, Caesar looked straight ahead. While Ben knew that Caesar didn’t consider being lowered from choppers to be the best fun, he knew that Caesar didn’t hate it either. His faithful EDD simply accepted it as part of the job of helping Ben.
As soon as Caesar’s paws touched the ground, Ben released the clip that attached the dangling line to Caesar’s harness and clipped a short, two-metre metal operational leash to his collar. Ben, again, signalled to the heelo. Trailing the two rappelling lines that were being electronically winched in, the Black Hawk lifted away. Climbing rapidly, the heelo turned back the way it had come, and soon disappeared from sight. The insertion had taken less than two minutes.
After sliding his goggles up so that they sat on the front of his helmet, Ben dropped to one knee and removed Caesar’s doggles and Peltors, then slipped them into the empty pouch on his belt. Looking around, he saw a group of blue-uniformed police officers standing at the edge of the forecourt. Rising to his feet, he urged Caesar forward and strode toward them. Coming to attention in front of a grey-haired police officer wearing the insignia of a superintendent, Ben saluted.
‘Sergeant Ben Fulton and EDD Caesar reporting for duty, sir,’ Ben announced.
Superintendent Ryan Strong returned Ben’s salute then said, with a friendly smile in Caesar’s direction, ‘Glad to have the army’s best EDD team working with us today, Sergeant. This combined services op is of vital importance.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Ben had been thoroughly briefed back at SOER headquarters on what was expected of Caesar and himself that day.
‘Fulton, Sergeant Leon Kovic and his police detection dog, Rubi, will be working with you.’ Superintendent Strong turned to a police dog handler standing nearby with a black kelpie on a leash. ‘Good hunting. Don’t miss a thing. I’m not having anything happen to the secretary-general of the United Nations on my watch. My reputation is on the line – and so is yours.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Ben returned. ‘You can rely on us, sir.’
While Ben was receiving his orders, Caesar was eyeing off Rubi. His tail wagged slowly, signalling that he wanted to be friends with the keplie, while the expression on his face seemed to suggest he was thinking to himself, You look interesting. What are you doing here? Rubi, for her part, looked the other way, almost as if she was embarrassed by Caesar’s attention.
As the superintendent hastily led the rest of his men away, Ben and Caesar approached Sergeant Kovic and Rubi. ‘Ben Fulton,’ he said in introduction, offering a gloved hand. ‘Good to be working with you, Kovic.’
Sergeant Kovic gave Ben’s extended hand a cursory shake. At the same time, Caesar went to say hello to Rubi by sniffing her rear end – the way that dogs do – but Rubi let out a wary yelp and backed away. ‘So,’ Kovic said with a sneer, ‘the rock stars have arrived. Going to show us how it’s done, are you, Fulton?’
‘What do you mean?’ Ben returned.
Sergeant Kovic waved a hand at the sky. ‘Flitting in by heelo. Cars aren’t good enough for you famous Afghanistan veterans? Just because your dog has been on TV and in the papers and got medals.’
Ben was surprised by the policeman’s antagonistic attitude. ‘Mate, we had to come all the way up from Holsworthy,’ he said, trying to keep it friendly. ‘If we hadn’t hitched a ride with an army Black Hawk, we’d still be stuck in traffic. We’re here to protect the secretary-general of the UN, aren’t we? Let’s do our jobs.’
‘Just don’t let your big head get in the way,’ Kovic replied. ‘I’m in charge.’
Even though they were of the same rank, this was a New South Wales Police op, so Kovic would be in charge of the EDD sweep. Ben, contrary to Kovic’s belief, had no problem with that and was determined not to argue. ‘Gotcha. Where do we start?’
‘The Concert Hall. That’s where the secretary-general will be speaking.’
‘Okay. Lead on.’
Even before Ben had finished, Kovic had turned his back to him. With Rubi on a tight leash, Kovic led the way into the Opera House via an emergency door. Ben and Caesar followed. They walked along a lengthy concrete corridor that ran beneath the building, their footsteps echoing dully. There were no windows, just bright white ceiling lights. Up a set of concrete stairs, the dogs taking the steps in bounds, they passed through a metal fire door to emerge inside the vast Concert Hall, close to the front of the stage.
For a moment, Ben and Caesar stopped to take in the impressive hall, its ceiling soaring more than twenty metres above their heads. The world’s leading singers, dancers and musicians had performed on the stage here, to millions of adoring fans. But this evening, the auditorium would be filled by important delegates from around the globe, and the stage would be occupied by speech-making dignitaries.
At the moment, the only people in the hall with the EDD teams were local police officers and a plain-clothed Federal Police security detail with earphones in their ears. With no curtains or stage scenery in place, the stage was bare. Above it hung eighteen large clear perspex reflectors known as ‘the clouds’. As Ben knew, these had been introduced to improve the quality of sound for the audience. Ben also knew, from his earlier briefing at Holsworthy Army Barracks, that the stage, sitting just over a metre above the auditorium floor, was about twenty metres wide downstage and eleven metres deep.
‘We start with the stage – that’s where the secretary-general and the VIPs will be for the opening speeches tonight,’ directed Kovic. ‘You take the back half and I’ll sweep from the front.’ With that, he stalked downstage with Rubi on a close leash.
‘Roger that.’ Ben, in contrast, unclipped Caesar’s leash and released him. Kneeling beside his canine partner, he said with affectionate pride and a double pat, ‘Time to go to work, Caesar. Seek on, boy. Start at the back.’
With his nose close to the timber floor, Caesar quickly trotted to the back of the stage. To him, this was no different to any bridge, bazaar or farm compound that he’d searched in war-torn Afghanistan. The background aromas were different, but Caesar’s obsessive focus was on using his incredibly powerful sense of smell to detect the telltale scent of explosives chemicals. When Caesar had passed his basic training several years back, becoming Australian Army EDD 556, he’d been rated by the chief instructor, Sergeant Angelo, as one of the most outstanding explosive detection dogs to have ever passed the course.
Sniffing every rope, every girder, every winch and lighting switchboard, Caesar went in search of explosives that might have been planted by terrorists. Ben, at times, would
whistle directions to his EDD, and each time Caesar would respond by immediately turning left or right to continue his search. Caesar completed checking his allocated part of the stage in half the time it took Kovic and Rubi to check the front section.
‘Your dog was fast,’ Kovic snapped, but he wasn’t being complimentary. ‘Too fast for my liking. He could have missed something.’
‘Caesar miss something?’ Ben shook his head. ‘Highly unlikely.’
‘I hear your dog hasn’t been on a live op in quite a while,’ said Kovic, looking Ben square in the face. ‘Maybe he’s rusty. Rubi and me, we’ll check the back half of the stage, too. Just in case.’
‘That would be a waste of time,’ Ben declared. ‘Caesar has checked it and, believe me, it’s clear.’
Kovic glared at him. ‘As I understand it, Fulton, your dog’s last job was looking after some bloke in a wheelchair. Isn’t that right?’ A supercilious smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.
‘Caesar is as sharp as he ever was,’ Ben countered, defending his four-legged friend, who was sitting attentively by his side. ‘The back half of the stage is clear. End of story.’
Sergeant Kovic ignored him and proceeded to lead Rubi to the back of the stage.
‘Listen,’ Ben said, ‘if you’re going to double-check every metre that Caesar checks it’s pointless having us here. This place has to be cleared by four o’clock. It’ll take two dogs to do that. Either you trust Caesar, or we head back to base and leave you to it.’
‘You can’t leave!’ exclaimed Kovic, a note of panic in his voice. ‘You’re under orders.’
Ben shrugged. ‘Then let us do our job, mate, and back off!’
Their confrontation was brought to an end by a voice from the back of the hall. ‘Sergeant Kovic, what’s the hold-up?’ demanded Superintendent Strong, who stood with his hands on his hips, silhouetted in a distant doorway.
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