Extreme Honor

by Piper J. Drake

  “I should consider getting an SUV with one of those cargo nets to partition off the back for dog transportation.” Thinking out loud wasn’t a bad thing. Hopefully.

  “Huh?” David didn’t turn to look at her but his response was louder than expected.

  “Well, this probably won’t be the last time I need to transport a dog in my career. I should provide a good example. Maybe be ready to make recommendations to dog owners.” Made sense to her. It’d take more saving, though, and a couple of good clients.

  “Oh.” David nodded. “I was worried there for a minute.”

  She blinked. “Why?”

  There was a hesitation. “Well, you know Atlas needs to go back to Lackland. Even if he’s retiring, there’s a process for adoption and applicants are considered in a specific order.”

  “Oh.” She’d read about it in her research. “Yeah, I know. Usually handlers or their families have priority, right?”

  Another nod.

  “But…” She bit down on what she was going to say next.

  “Calhoun doesn’t have family. At least no one in a position to take Atlas.” David addressed the difficult topic anyway. She admired his ability to take things head on. ’Course, she liked a lot of things about him. Too many.

  “So who would be next in line?”

  “Other military or families. There are several variables under consideration.”

  “I figured.” She didn’t look back at Atlas but she was tempted to pull down the vanity mirror so she could see him in the reflection. “Things have been moving so fast with him. I hadn’t thought about where he’d go next. Hard to imagine what it’ll be like to see him go.”

  She felt a sinking feeling in her belly. She wouldn’t just be saying good-bye to Atlas.

  “You might be able to visit him,” David offered. “Depends on who gets him. I plan to try to stay in touch.”

  With her, too? She didn’t ask. Maybe later, but things were too…new. She wasn’t sure where they stood yet.

  “Maybe. I think he’d like a new forever home with a family. It might be awkward for me to pop in, though.” She struggled to put the empty feeling into words then gave up and tried for a different direction. “Did you ever want one?”

  “Want what? A dog? I have all the dogs I can fit into my life back at Hope’s Crossing.” There was happiness in his voice. Pride. It made her smile.

  “I meant a family.” Now that she’d said it, she sort of wanted to take it back. The good humor left his face.

  Damn. Just when he’d started to come back to a cheerful mood.

  “No. Not in a conventional sense.” He said it slowly. Carefully. “While I was active duty, I had my own demons. Every deployment was another chance to work through them. Only I picked up new ones every time I went out there. I figured it’d be the worst idea in the world to have a wife and kids waiting for me at home, wondering and never knowing if I was going to make it back. And depending on the wife, my kids might never understand why I was always away. She might not understand it either. I’ve seen too many marriages filled with constant fighting over that. I didn’t want that for anyone.”

  Had her stepfather? She tried to remember. But her perception of him from her childhood had been of a stoic man. Stern. Immovable. She’d spent a long time thinking he hadn’t cared at all.

  This was the first time David had said so much about his past, though, and she wanted to know more about him. “What did you do in between deployments? Go home?”

  He snorted. “Nah. Not because it was bad or anything. I just didn’t fit in.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t know what to say. “That’s hard.”

  “Well, my parents divorced while I was a teenager. High school angst doesn’t get much worse than what I had. I was angry. At my dad. My mom. Myself. Just always angry.” He opened and closed his hands on the steering wheel. “Mom left. Dad remarried. I got angrier.”

  She reached out, touched his thigh with her fingertips. Not sure if it’d be welcome but it seemed more than trying to come up with words. He dropped his right hand from the steering wheel and took hers in his. Warmth enveloped her hand and tingles ran up her arms and along her skin.

  Wow, it didn’t take much. His touch had her so finely tuned to him. Aware.

  “I enlisted right out of high school. Basically took my diploma in hand and went straight into the Air Force. Some of my other friends went Army or Navy, but I knew what I wanted to be.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “And you’ve always gone to do what you set out to do?”

  He squeezed her hand. “Basically. It took a while, but becoming a PJ was worth every second of hell to get there.”

  “A PJ?” Her favorite pajamas popped into her mind. And then she wondered what he tended to wear to bed.

  Bad Lyn. Bad.

  “Para rescue jumper.”

  That made more sense. “Ah. Must’ve taken a while.”

  He lifted one shoulder and dropped it in a half-shrug. “Longer than I wanted, not as long as most.”

  Not too prideful, not too humble either. She smiled.

  “Any time I did go home, the house was full of half-brothers and -sisters. All way younger than me. Dad had rebooted his family life. He didn’t make me feel unwanted, but it was awkward.” He paused. “His new wife was nice enough but we never clicked.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not even a thing.” He lifted her hand and kissed the back before placing it back down on top of his thigh. “Mostly, the kids like me just fine while I’m buying them video games or whatever is on their online wish lists for birthdays and Christmas.”

  But he didn’t have a home to go back to. “Didn’t they even think about it, though? Sure, you made it comfortable, easy for them. But they left you outside their world.”

  That made her furious.

  “My choice to leave,” he reminded her. “And I don’t need to be angry with them. Plenty of other things to work through all on my own.”

  “You mentioned demons.” She said it quietly. Not sure he wanted to talk about it. Her father had always sent her to her room if she asked about his deployments, what he did.

  “Yeah.” David fell silent for a while. His hand was a comforting weight on hers, though. A sign he wasn’t pushing her away. “It’s a weird thing, being over there. You become…institutionalized. And when you come home, you feel out of step. Hard to back down from the level of hyperawareness you need to maintain overseas. People want you to be a hero. But they want you to be the perfect citizen, too. The problem is, to be out there and survive, you become a rough man…ready to do violence.”

  It was a part of a saying. It swam up from her memory as one of the things her stepfather had repeated often at the dinner table.

  People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf.

  The line was attributed to George Orwell. Her mind brought up the source she’d researched. The words had always stuck with her but some of her Internet research had said it wasn’t a direct quote, more an interpretation of what the man had said. She’d looked it up in the hopes of impressing her stepfather. But he’d pinned her with a stare and asked her if she truly appreciated what the words meant or the men who stood ready to defend her sleep.

  Until now, listening to David, she hadn’t.

  “It’s not fair to expect you to switch gears when you come back.” It was hard to know what to say so she went with what she thought, felt. Honest.

  He barked out a laugh. “True. I try not to think about fair. Life’s generally not.”

  “But some people try to make it that way.” She would, moving forward. No matter where tomorrow took them. Mostly because she’d always been told life wasn’t. And seriously, it wouldn’t ever be if no one ever tried.

  “Yeah.” David shook his head. “I thought Forte was crazy when he said he was going back to his hometown to open up a kennel. But he’d saved every p
enny from the day he enlisted. And it added up. Then he got me and Rojas to come out to look at the place. It was huge. Right in the middle of a decent-sized town and close to a couple of different cities, but still private.”

  “Perfect?” She could imagine. All the different environments to fit a wandering soul. They could go to whatever surroundings their mood needed in a day trip. Or night.

  “Absolutely.”

  “I can see the draw.” They’d even come several states away and were still going to make it back in one day. She wondered if he’d even considered stopping for the night.

  “Besides. Working with the dogs helped.” David lifted his chin to indicate the rearview mirror. Looking up, she could see Atlas in the mirror too. “Look at him. He loved unconditionally.”

  Hearing the word come from David, easily, tugged at her. Too many men wouldn’t say the word even about somebody else. Like the word was somehow a worse curse than any other four-letter word in existence.

  “Dogs do.” And she loved them back. Every one she’d ever met. Because they were so worth it.

  “A dog like him—one with a heart that big—he loves without question once he decides to give it,” David continued. “He laid his life on the line for his handler, because to him, it was worth it. But sometimes half the team doesn’t make it back.”

  David paused.

  “It wasn’t his fault.” Never. Not even knowing what had truly happened, she wouldn’t believe Atlas had failed his handler.

  Sometimes, no matter how hard anyone tries, lives are lost.

  “No. And I thought maybe he’d pine away. Some of them do. And it would’ve hurt Calhoun worse than dying all over again if his dog had died of heartbreak. Calhoun would’ve wanted somebody to help Atlas through this. And someday, maybe Atlas will choose somebody new to look to.” David glanced over at Lyn.

  Her heart leaped. And then she squashed the happy dance. Atlas wasn’t hers. None of the dogs she worked with were actually hers.

  Atlas stirred in the back, having heard his name. He gave a quiet whine.

  Her own bladder decided to alert her to the amount of time they’d been moving. Glancing at the clock, she couldn’t believe how much time had already gone by over the course of their conversation. “So how close is the next rest stop?”

  “Not far.” David released her hand and picked up his phone. A quiet command and the phone’s GPS kicked in. “There’re stops all up and down this highway. If not actual rest stops, then exits to get food or gas.”

  No sooner had he said so than a sign came up for a rest stop in a couple of miles. They sat in companionable silence as they approached and he pulled into a parking spot to one side, closer to a patch of grass and some trees.

  “You go on ahead and I’ll let Atlas take care of his business.” David gathered up Atlas’s leash from the console between them.

  “Okay.” She popped out of the car, the call of nature too urgent to even care about dignity. Atlas, apparently, was feeling the same way, considering how fast he hopped out of the back of the car and sat to have the leash attached to his collar.

  She hurried to the building and took care of business. On the way out, she bought three bottles of water and some beef jerky.

  David and Atlas were standing next to the car as she returned, both looking in her direction but not actually watching her. Or at least it didn’t seem like it, because David didn’t return her smile or even react to the bag of beef jerky she waved at him.

  As she approached, David put a hand to the small of her back and rushed her back to her side of the car. “See anything odd inside?”

  “No.” She got in quickly and didn’t protest when Atlas hopped in after her and scrambled over her lap to get in the back seat.

  As David closed her door, headlights turned on suddenly from the row ahead of them and blinded her. Tires screeched. David rolled across the top of the car’s hood. She got the impression of a dark car screeching past them, so close they clipped the side-view mirror.

  Atlas let out a deep bark, lunging back up to the front seat. Lyn turned and grabbed his collar as David yanked the car door open and dove in, slamming the car door shut as he turned on the car. “Seat belt!”

  “Af.” Lyn gave the big dog a nudge and Atlas returned to the back seat as she reached for her seat belt.

  David didn’t wait, throwing the car into reverse. Her head almost hit the dashboard but they turned sharply and she was slammed back into her seat as they went into drive. Desperately, she fumbled the seat belt until she got it buckled as David sped back out onto the highway.

  “Sit tight.” Whether the grim order was for her or for Atlas, she didn’t know. But she was guessing it was for her since he hadn’t said Atlas’s name.

  More screeching as a car came up on their right and cut in front of them. David decelerated sharply to keep from running off the road and then poured on the speed, getting ahead of the other driver again.

  “Is this a good idea?” The bottles of water were rolling around by her feet.

  “Sure it is.” He sounded cheerful.

  They barreled down the highway in the left lane and she watched the streetlights flash by as streaks across the windows. Somebody had tried to run him down and force them off the road. Maybe even were trying to kill them. Her heart pounded through her chest and in her ears. There wasn’t anything she could do.

  “Reach into the glove compartment.” David’s instruction was urgent but calm. “There’s a flashlight in there. Point it back over your shoulder before turning it on. Do not look into it. Do not point it in Atlas’s face. It’s way more intense than your average flashlight.”

  She did as instructed.

  “Handy high-powered flashlight for heavy weather conditions,” David explained. “It might as well be a hand-held spotlight. If we’re lucky, it’ll shine in the bastard’s eyes and blind him some. At minimum, it’ll be a distraction. Just hold on to it and turn it to the left and right a couple of degrees.”

  The small, black cylinder fit into her hand, heavier than she expected, and the power button was easy to find. Making sure Atlas was laying down low, she followed David’s directions. A veritable spotlight poured out the back of the car.

  David nodded. “Good.”

  Suddenly, David turned right, barely making an exit and slamming the breaks to slow down enough not to flip them over on the curving ramp.

  “Turn off the light.” The words came through gritted teeth as he picked up speed again.

  She did.

  They twisted through several smaller roads until they were in a nondescript neighborhood, parked among a few other cars in an equally nondescript apartment complex.

  He shut everything down and made sure all the lights were out, even on the dash.

  “All right?” His voice came low and calm as his hand touched her shoulder in the darkness.

  She nodded, hoping he could see her because words weren’t coming at the moment.

  “Hang in there for a few minutes until we know for sure we’ve lost whoever that was.”

  She swallowed hard. “Okay.”

  “Atlas.” There was a stirring from the back seat, low in the foot wells.

  David released his seat belt and turned in the seat to check on Atlas. “Keep an eye out the windows. Tell me if you see anything.”

  She peered out into the dark but there was nothing. No cars. No people. It was really dark in this parking lot. “Apartment complexes should have better lighting in their parking lots.”

  The thought popped out of her mouth.

  David chuckled, returning to his seat. “They should. Most don’t.”

  “Good for us in this case?” She clutched the flashlight as if it was a weapon. And maybe it could be. If someone came up, maybe she could blind them until they could get away. She should get one for herself.

  “Very good for us.” David paused. “Change of plans for the evening. Best thing for us to do is be unpredictable.”

>   “Which means we’re sleeping here tonight?” Outside. Exposed. She shivered even though the car was still warm. With Atlas and David, she could do it if it was necessary. She might not actually sleep, though.

  “No.” David was silent until she turned to look at him. Her eyes had adjusted so she could make out his face and his gaze caught her, reassured her. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her. “Let’s get you someplace safe tonight. Then we’ll head out again in the morning.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  This…was not what I expected.”

  Cruz turned to grin at Lyn, happy to see some color returning to her previously pale face. Her tone was more of hesitant surprise than dismay, which was good. “Exactly.”

  “And you just happened to know about this place tucked away in a little town off the highway?” She sounded dubious.

  Okay, he’d be asking questions too if he were in her place.

  He chuckled. Her mind was always working as she studied every conceivable angle of a situation. Kept him on his toes and made messing with her fun. “In fact, yes.”

  She planted her feet at the end of the walkway and crossed her arms. Next to her, Atlas came to heel, then sat. “Seriously.”

  Cruz kept walking, unhurried, until he reached the top of the walk and tapped a discreet, stylized sign. It had the silhouette of a German shepherd and a concise warning—not enough to scare away potential guests but enough to assure likely thieves that the property was guarded. “Not every puppy is suited for military or police service. We try to be sure to find good homes for the youngsters who don’t make it all the way through training. We’ve got clients all up and down the East Coast.”

  The shadows cleared from her expression and curiosity sparked in her eyes. Easy as that. For all of her wariness, she believed too quickly. Somebody, someday was going to take advantage of her. The thought tightened his chest. It wasn’t fair of him to want a person to be both wary and trusting.