Rival Forces

by D. D. Ayres

  Kye pulled in a careful breath as Lily yipped in delight and bounded toward Yardley’s vehicle. Oleg on the other hand continued to stare off toward the distant line of trees, where shadows blacked out Kye’s vision of what lay beyond.

  Every cell in his body moved to high alert as Kye followed Lily to Yardley’s Jeep. The aching of his face had faded away in the cold. His skin was suddenly an all-surface sensory organ as he strained for sights, the touch of the wind, anything that would give him a whisper of anticipation before disaster struck.

  Oleg remained still, his head swiveling in 180-degree angles, as if completely confused by the information he was taking in. Refusing to budge, even when called, Oleg’s rigid stance made Kye feed out leash to the end as Lily bounded toward the Jeep and reared up, pressing her paws against the driver’s-side door.

  Dammit. They weren’t alone. And he had no idea who or what or how many.

  Then he noticed the tires. They were flat. All four of them.

  Oh shit.

  Hoping not to give his new knowledge away, he called to Lily in a voice louder than necessary. “Stop farting around and go potty, Lily. Now.”

  She glanced at him, her eyebrows doing semaphore signals. He knew she was trying not to let him pull her off a legitimate find.

  He pulled out a bit of kibble and held it out. “Here. Good girl, Lily.”

  Satisfied that her point had been made, she bounded toward him and took her reward. Then she moved several feet away, circled twice, and took care of business.

  All the while Oleg examined the periphery with his back to Kye, silent but alert as any sentry.

  It took everything in him to turn his back toward the house. He wondered as he had many times in Afghanistan if that would be his last move, having turned a back on an enemy he could not guess at. But this was the good ol’ U.S. of A. Even a hired gun would want to make a kill look like an accident, not an assassination.

  That wishful thought propelled him all the way up the stairs to the front door. But he was definitely in perspiration fail as the door opened and Yardley appeared.

  She took one look at him and her gaze said she knew everything. Yet she waited for him to say the words.

  Kye looked at Yardley, his heart thumping. His voice was a rough urgent whisper as he reached down to unleash Oleg. “Get back inside. Purdy didn’t come alone.”

  As if he’d gotten a signal from some great canine handler in the sky, Oleg turned, grazed Kye’s hand with his teeth, and then bolted away.

  Yardley gasped. “He bit you?”

  Kye examined his offended hand. “He barely broke the skin. I think he just needed to get away in the worst way.”

  “He’s trained to self-deploy when there’s danger.”

  By the time he turned to the night, Oleg was nothing more than a smoky phantom blending into the white night as he sped away toward the tree line. He looked back at her grim-faced. “You’re going to have to explain that dog’s skill set when there’s time.”

  He had hoped not to give away the fact that he knew they had company. But Oleg’s defection probably blew that hope to smithereens. Whoever was out there was about to find himself at the business end of one very touchy canine.

  Self-deploy. Unless Oleg could take their enemy down alone, they were worse off than before, with Yardley now unprotected by K-9 power.

  Heart hammering, Kye remembered that though he was trying to behave in a way that didn’t alert their intruder, they were sitting ducks. He shifted his body protectively in front of hers as he grabbed her by the arm to push her back inside the safety of the house.

  Bristling at his treatment she waited until he had locked and bolted the door before she got up in his face. “Tell me what’s going on?”

  Before he could answer the lights went out.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “Glaser here. We’ve got an intruder.”

  Jackson smiled to himself. For hours he’d been stuck in a motel room off Interstate 81 with nothing to do but stare out the window at the weather. Finally, they were getting somewhere. “Has he been there long?”

  “Can’t say. He showed himself about fifteen minutes ago. Reconnoitered the premises before retreating to the tree line opposite my location.”

  “Can you give me a description?”

  “Didn’t get much of a look before retreating. Male. By the posture. I’d guess he’s had some military or law enforcement training. If I hadn’t caught the flash off his goggle lens I wouldn’t have suspected he was there until he moved into the clearing. Thought I’d better pull back before I called or he’d get the same opportunity to make me.”

  Jackson thought fast. It didn’t sound like Dr. Gunnar. “Keep an eye on him. If he makes a move toward the house or the people inside, contact me immediately for further instructions.”

  “There was a visitor to the house. Came along thirty minutes before I spotted the second one. He knocked on the door about an hour ago and was admitted.”

  “Hellfire, son. Why didn’t you start with that?”

  “I was told I was to report only suspicious conduct. The man came straight up the drive on foot and knocked. As he was admitted, I assume he was known to those inside.”

  “Jesus. That kennel is busier than a corner dealer handing out samples. What did he look like?”

  “Plaid shirt and gimme cap and jeans. No coat though it’s snowing ninety to nothing out here.”

  “Anything else? Anything at all.”

  “Hold on. Looks like we’ve got a situation developing. The lights on the Harmonie Kennel property just went out.”

  “Shit.” Jackson automatically reached for the reassurance of his non-government-issued weapon on his hip. “Sit tight. I’m coming to you, and calling for backup.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The darkness lasted only for a few seconds before lights flickered on again, dimmer than before as the emergency generator kicked in.

  Even as Yardley moved to begin turning off non-essential lights, Kye was on the move, too. “Call Sheriff Wiley now. Tell him we’ve got a guy tied up in the closet who tried to kill your boyfriend and that there’s a good chance he has a partner close by who slashed your tires. He’ll believe that bullshit story if it comes from you.” As he talked, he headed for the back door.

  Lily followed on his heels. The sudden darkness had been enough to excite her into doing a great imitation of a hysterical person. Her unnerving toller scream was a shrill-screech match for a victim in slasher movie. The high-pitched keening went through everyone within hearing, like fingernails on a chalkboard.

  Kye paused and looked down. “Lily, no.”

  Lily paused and looked up at him, prancing in place, as if she knew he intended to leave her behind and she wasn’t having it.

  “No screams. No barks. No sound, Lily.” He made the closed mouth sign.

  The calm deep tone of her handler’s voice soothed the toller. She continued to stare at him with an alert gaze but didn’t make another sound.

  “Good girl.” He reached down, offered her a bit of kibble, and then picked her up. Holding her high on his chest so that she had physical contact, he stroked her in long smooth glides of his hand. “You can’t go with me this time, Lily. It’s not safe out there.” After a moment he nuzzled her neck. “Be good until I come back.”

  He shifted his body and handed Lily to Yardley, who’d come up. “Take care of her. She’ll be okay once I leave.”

  Yardley nodded, her eyes wide as she gazed at him. He really was an extraordinarily good handler. Pausing in his mission to calm his dog when she wasn’t coming along.

  “Just a second.” She grabbed Kye by the arm as he made to swing around. Well, he paused and turned to her. The biceps bulging under her touch could easily have resisted her effects to stop him. “What are you planning?”

  “You’ve got ordnance in the classroom building. I need it.”

  “We’ve got flash bangs and rifles and lots of w
eaponry out there.” She dug a hand into her pant pocket, pulled out a set of keys, and handed them to him. “Most of it will be useless as defense because we fire blanks around our handlers and dogs. Our insurer told us it’s not safe to do otherwise.”

  He grinned. “You know that and I know that. But whoever’s out there won’t know that. Besides, a flash bang is a flash bang.”

  She dragged at his arm again as he tried to turn away. “You don’t know who’s out there.”

  “I know he slashed your tires and cut our power. I don’t want to wait to see what he has in store next without letting him know he has a fight on his hands. If you’re nervous about the gun, give it to your doc. I’m sure he’s handled firearms where he’s been.”

  She nodded solemnly. “Be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  He turned fully to her, a question is his eyes. “Would it really matter?”

  Yardley didn’t misunderstand. “Of course it matters. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.”

  “No.” He reached out and began drawing a slow circle on her cheekbone without a bruise. “I need to know. Would it matter personally to you, Yard?”

  She took a deep breath but she was already nodding. “It would matter, Kye. I just don’t know how that changes anything.”

  She could see him trying to evaluate her words as if each and every one was a puzzle to be solved.

  Muttering a curse word, he moved suddenly into her and grabbed the back of her neck as his mouth swooped down on hers. His one-arm embrace crushed Lily between them but the dog didn’t struggle to get away. It was a hard kiss, as if he was trying to brand the impression of his lips on hers. Just as quickly, he dropped his hand and backed away. “Finishing the task before me. That’s where I am. After that…”

  After that what? He would fight for her? Did he see David as a rival?

  While those thoughts chased one another, he turned and slipped out the door with a whispered, “Lock it.”

  Only when she had locked the door and turned away did she notice David standing in the doorway. How much had he seen, or heard? Impossible to tell. His expression was composed only of pain.

  She felt her neck flush but her tone was brisk. “I’m calling the sheriff. Kye needs backup. We’ll talk later.” Though she hadn’t the slightest idea what she would say to him about what he’d just seen, maybe heard. It was impossible to make decisions when the sky was falling.

  David braced himself against the door frame. “Kye looks like a man who can take care of himself.”

  She nodded. “I sure hope so.”

  David offered her a probing stare. “About that gun you were discussing earlier.”

  Ooo-kaaaay. He’d heard a lot. She nodded and went to get it, pulling out her cell phone to call the sheriff as she climbed the stairs to the second floor.

  She reappeared from an upstairs bedroom less than two minutes later, Glock and bullets in hand. David was perched on the arm of her sofa, his mouth a firm line of pain. “The sheriff says he’ll get someone out here as soon as he can. There’s been a pileup on the main highway and the state police pulled in all available law enforcement personnel to help. Meanwhile we should find a safe place and hide.”

  He looked at her dubiously. “Where would that be?”

  The lights flickered and went out. Their enemy had gotten to the generator.

  Please let Kye be safe. That was the only thought in Yardley’s head as she stood rock-still, waiting for who-knew-what.

  “Yardley?” David’s voice was no more than a breath.

  “I’m okay.” She puffed out the words into the silence.

  She strained so hard for sounds from outside that her head began to ache. But all that happened was her eyes gradually became accustomed to the light source beyond the room—the security light on the telephone pole out front. It was connected to a separate line from the one that ran to the house and generator. The light bounced off the snow, making it eerily bright as it seeped between the gaps of the curtains at the window.

  “I can’t sit by and do nothing. Kye won’t know where things are in the dark. If he uses a flashlight, it will make him a sitting duck.”

  “You aren’t armed. Yardley, don’t do this. I know you care for Kye. I understand. But it isn’t safe.”

  “It isn’t about that. I wouldn’t leave you, or my brother Law, or any of my trainers to face God-knows-what while I hid. It’s not in me to let someone else fight my battles.”

  He nodded. “Got it.” But his expression said he understood a lot more. And none of it in his favor. “Take this.” He handed her the loaded gun.

  “I don’t think—”

  “Don’t think. Just do what you have to do.”

  She stared at him. “Could you shoot a man who came through the door?”

  “If he was trying to hurt you, in a heartbeat.”

  “That’s why you get to keep the gun.”

  Giving up, he pulled her close and kissed her. He was hot with fever and trembling. “I want to be your hero. I’d follow McGarren out there in a heartbeat if I could.”

  “I know. I know.” She cupped his handsome face in her hands, trying not to let him see that she knew how every breath was taxing him. “You’re already trying to save millions of people. Let me try to help out one Hawaiian dog handler.”

  * * *

  Keeping to the shadows, Kye made his way, boots sinking to the ankles in fresh drifts, to the back of the bunkhouse before the lights went out a second time. He knew the generator was right behind the bunkhouse because it had been revving up the night like a lawn mower on steroids. Suddenly the motor coughed, sputtered, and died, leaving the shock of silence. The house and all the buildings on Harmonie Kennels’ property went dark.

  Heart slamming against his ribs, Kye turned with gun in hand expecting to encounter the saboteur who’d shut down the generator. But nothing moved in the cold, blank darkness. Even the snow could no longer be seen, only heard as it whispered past his face. He pressed his back against the building and waited for his eyes to adjust. As he expected, gradually a light source appeared in the twenty-yard space between the main house and the guesthouse. The security light was still on in the front driveway. It swept a clean white arc through the snow, stopping just short of the tree line where the ground began to climb steeply to the hillside not far from the back the house.

  He waited, listening so hard he heard the blood roaring in his ears, for any sign that he had been spotted. There was someone out here with him who wanted very badly to keep them contained. Why? Was he waiting for reinforcements, as Purdy had been? Or was he taking precautions to keep them off balance until he could determine how best to attack?

  Nothing. Silence. Only his heartbeat for company.

  Kye glanced back at the house. He thought about going back to protect Yardley. But the three of them penned together inside a house they could not adequately protect wasn’t a good idea, either. He needed supplies, something to fight back with. A stun grenade in hand sounded better and better.

  He sent his gaze sweeping over the dark ridgeline, looking for any sign of a presence there. He’d seen the utility road halfway up the ridge this morning. But nothing penetrated the night.

  After what seemed like forever but was only minutes, he forced himself to begin moving again. This time the crunch of ice under his boots sounded as loud in his ears as an ax splitting wood. His only protection was the dark. But he wasn’t a stealth panther prowling on silent paws. He was more like a buffalo stumbling along. The ground was uneven behind the bunkhouse, icier than where the new snow was accumulating.

  Breathing through his mouth had several drawbacks. Not only was it unnatural—a mouth breather he wasn’t—but the icy air was drying out his mouth and his throat had begun to ache. Shit fire. He hated cold. He’d had enough already this season to last him a good long time. Skiing, my ass. He was going home, maybe to stay. At least until he was flambéed by the sun over every single inch of his bo
dy.

  Finally he reached the end of the bunkhouse back wall. The shadows beyond were deeper where the NightWatcher security light was blocked by the building. Twenty feet ahead was the corner of the classrooms, his destination. He leaned out cautiously to check the side of the building for intruders.

  And then he heard it. The sound of a door opening. Behind him. He whipped around and waited. He was certain he’d stopped breathing by the time a shadow appeared opposite the bunkhouse. The figure moved cautiously but much more quietly than he had. Long. Lean. Something familiar in those movements.

  Well hell.

  He ducked back behind the side of the bunkhouse and waited. Just in case his eyes were fooling him. He wasn’t dressed for the weather. Already his hands were beginning to ache from the cold. The gun in his hand burned his palm, the cold steel giving the false impression of warmth. But he didn’t pocket it. Not when he didn’t know who or what was out here with him.

  As the figure came even with the edge of the building, he grabbed and slammed his follower back against the wall, simultaneously pressing a hand to the mouth as he jabbed his gun into the middle. It took only a second to confirm what he suspected but could not trust. He had Yardley jammed between the wall and the weight of his body. He dropped his hand.

  “Fuck.” It was all he could think of that was appropriate as he stared into her frightened face.

  “Kye?” Her breath came back unevenly. “Thank God.”

  He pulled the gun out of her middle and pushed her back into the dark shadows behind the building. And then he found his voice again.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “Helping you.” He couldn’t see her face any longer, but he didn’t have to. He recognized that squinty-eyed tone anywhere.

  “Help—” He was at a loss for words again. Finally, Yardley had struck him dumb. He peeled his body away from hers slowly, looking back past her shoulder, as if expecting she had brought along company. The long strip of darkness was empty. Beyond, fresh swirls of snow tumbled more thickly than before in the broad white expanse of the security light.