by Ronie Kendig
PRAISE FOR TALON (A BREED APART BOOK 2)
“Action, intrigue, and romance the way only Ronie Kendig can write it—this is an author who knows her stuff. With characters you can’t help but love—and a canine you can’t help but fall for—Talon is an intense ride punched with high-octane drama that will have you bolting through the pages in a single, sleepless night. Talon is Kendig at the top of her game. Whatever you do, do not miss this one.”
—Tosca Lee, New York Times bestselling author of the Books of Mortals series
“Talon was a nonstop, heart-pounding adventure full of twists, turns, and romance. Every time I picked it up, I was transported to Talon and Aspen’s world and felt every emotion that they experienced. It has a little bit of everything to capture the hearts of all readers!”
—Lisa Phillips, Founder/CEO of Retired Military Working Dog Assistance Organization
“Now I know why they label Ronie’s novels ‘Rapid Fire Fiction’! With inimitable style, this book hooks you from page one and machine-guns you to a satisfying finish. Bravo, Ronie!”
—Creston Mapes, bestselling author of Fear Has a Name
“Ronie Kendig brings more than action and intrigue in her newest release, Talon. She reveals the soul of a man, a woman, and a dog—deep characterizations that bring each one to life. The story, the characters, and the plot twists engaged me from the beginning. Talon is another winner in a long list of excellent fiction by an exceptional writer.”
—Miralee Ferrell, multi-published, award-winning author of historical romance
“Ronie Kendig has done it again! Jump into Talon for a fast-paced ride through exotic locales that will leave you breathless. Kendig’s ability to weave a story that combines action and adventure with a love story is unmatched. Readers who love military stories, especially those featuring military canines, will find Talon a book that lives on well after the final page is turned.”
—Kathleen Y’Barbo, bestselling author of Flora’s Wish and Rocky Mountain Heiress
“Ronie Kendig rocks another story. Action-packed and riveting, Talon is a book you won’t be able to put down until you reach the end. Breathtaking, nerve-wracking, and heart-inspiring, you’ll keep this one on the shelf so you can read it again and again.”
—Lynette Eason, bestselling author of The Women of Justice series
“[Trinity: Military War Dog] is one of the best Military War Dog novels I have read in years! Thank you, Ronie!”
—Elgin Shaw, former Air Force handler to MWD Max J216
OTHER BOOKS BY
RONIE KENDIG
Trinity: Military War Dog (A Breed Apart #1)
Nightshade (Discarded Heroes #1)
Digitalis (Discarded Heroes #2)
Wolfsbane (Discarded Heroes #3)
Firethorn (Discarded Heroes #4)
© 2013 by Ronie Kendig
Print ISBN 978-1-61626-601-1
eBook Editions:
Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 978-1-62416-086-8
Kindle and MobiPocket Edition (.prc) 978-1-62416-085-1
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the publisher.
Scripture quotations are taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.
Additional scripture taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.
For more information about Ronie Kendig, please access the author’s website at the following Internet address: www.roniekendig.com
Cover design: Müllerhaus Publishing Arts, Inc., www.Mullerhaus.net
Published by Barbour Publishing, Inc., P.O. Box 719, Uhrichsville, OH 44683, www.barbourbooks.com
Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.
Printed in the United States of America.
Table of Contents
Glossary
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
“Watching”
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
“Undisciplined”
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
“Safe”
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
“Forbidden”
Chapter 15
“Do Svidaniya”
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
“Beautiful”
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Epilogue
About the Author
DEDICATION
To all military working dog handlers and their amazing K-9 counterparts.
Dedicated especially to Vietnam-era handlers who were forced to leave behind their best friends.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Special thanks to military handlers, who prefer to remain anonymous, for their help and direction.
Thanks to Elgin Shaw, a former Air Force handler and reader, who has encouraged me and shared his story of MWD Max in Trinity: Military War Dog.
Thanks to my agent, Steve Laube, who remains steadfast and constant in an ever-changing industry. For *not* pushing me off the ledge but holding me back when I wanted to jump.
A million thanks to Julee Schwarzburg—editor extraordinaire!
Thanks to the Barbour team, relentless in their efforts to make our books successful: Rebecca Germany, Mary Burns, Shalyn Sattler, Elizabeth Shrider, Laura Young, Linda Hang, and Ashley Schrock.
Rel Mollet of RelzReviewz—tireless supporter of fiction but also one of the truest and most genuine people I have ever met.
Special thanks to Heather Lammers for helping me connect with MWD handlers.
Special thanks to MWD handlers/trainers 1st LT Brian Sandoval, SSG Jeff Worley, and SGT Andrew Kowtko for sharing a glimpse of the MWD world with readers. You are all heroes!
LITERARY LICENSE
In writing about unique settings, specific locations, and invariably the people residing there, a certain level of risk is involved, including the possibility of dishonoring the very people an author intends to honor. With that in mind, I have taken some literary license in Talon: Combat Tracking Team, including renaming some bases within the U.S. military establishment and creating sites/ entitles. I have done this so the book and/or my writing will not negatively reflect on any military personnel or location. With the quickly changing landscape of a combat theater, this seemed imperative and prudent.
Glossary of Terms/Acronyms
ACUs—Army Combat Uniforms
AK-47—R
ussian made assault rifle
CLU—Containerized Living Units
CTT dog—Combat Tracking Team dog
DIA—Defense Intelligence Agency
FOB—Forward Operating Base
Glock—A semiautomatic handgun
HUMINT—Human Intelligence
IED—Improvised Explosive Device
JAG—Judge Advocate General
Klicks—Military jargon for kilometers
Lat-long—Latitude and longitude
M4, M4A1, M16A4—Military assault rifles
M203—A grenade launcher
MIA—Missing In Action
MP—Military Police
MRAP—Mine Resistant Ambush-Protected vehicle
MWD—Military War Dog
ODA452—Operational Detachment A (Special Forces A-Team)
RPG—Rocket-Propelled Grenade
SCI—“Sensitive Compartmented Information” security level
SOCOM—Special Operations Command
SureFire—A tactical flashlight
TBI—Traumatic Brain Injury
UAV—Unmanned Aerial Vehicle
Prologue
Kariz-e Sefid, Afghanistan
Two Years Ago
Flames roared into the sky. A concussive boom punched the oxygen from the air. Eating an IED, the lead Cougar MRAP in the convoy flipped up. As if dancing atop the raging inferno. Shrapnel hurtled from the blast.
“Buffalo! Buffalo!” Sergeant Lee Dawson shouted into the mic, hoping to hear from the first vehicle.
“Anything?” Gunnery Sergeant Austin Courtland coiled his hand around the lead of his Combat Tracking Team dog. Talon stood braced, alert. His bark reverberated through the steel hull in warning.
Lee slanted a glance at the “observer” who’d come along. “Report!” Peering through the cloud of black smoke and debris, he searched the chaos to make sure the others were still alive.
A breeze stirred the flames just in time to see an RPG streaking toward the front end of their MRAP.
“Get out, get out, get out!” Courtland and Talon launched toward the back door.
“Oh cr—”
BOOM!
The MRAP bucked against the blast but held. Whiplash had nothing on the ramming sensation pounding into his chest now. Fire burst through the engine.
Fear of being cooked alive or choking to death on smoke shoved Lee from the Cougar MRAP. Coughing and with a hand over his mouth, he choked out, “This way!”
Sand and dirt blasted up, peppering his face. Tiny grains and dust particles swirled under the blazing Afghan sun as he took cover, shouldering his way around the side of the mine-resistant ambush-protected vehicle and out of their attacker’s line of fire. Plumes of heat warbled along the hull.
“Find me some terrorists,” Court shouted over the roar of the fire, then keyed his mic. “Base, this is Echo One. Ambushed and taking fire!”
Peering down the sights of his M16A4 gave Lee nothing but dirt…crumbled building with dirt…and more dirt. “I got nothin’.”
“Same,” came a shout from behind as Truitt “True” Anderson slid up behind him, a nasty cut across his cheekbone. “Where the heck did that RPG come from?” The muzzle of his M4 swept Lee’s periphery.
Lee kept his sights aligned, adrenaline pumping through his system faster than the blood. “Court,” he yelled over the gunfire that crackled in the blistering afternoon, “what d’you have?”
“Nothing!”
Staying behind the disabled vehicle, Lee searched the road. Only two buildings north. Several south. Focused ahead, he studied the structures. He scanned the roofs. Since the RPG’s trajectory had been downward, whoever fired it held an elevated position. The roof of one didn’t look strong enough to hold someone, and the other had more holes than coverage. He whipped back to the first, waiting. C’mon! Show your coward head so I can—
“Quirk, report!” Court shouted to the Buffalo team again.
Only crackling and the shouts of the other teams dragging the lead team to safety met the command. Mind locked on the white plastered structure with the right half of the front wall missing told him that’s where the attack had originated.
“Use the drone?” Lee shouted, not lifting his gaze from the scope.
“It’s down!”
Lee wanted to curse. Everything had gone wrong. With the drone down, they’d have to do this the old-fashioned, bloody way. Mano a mano. Hand to hand.
Dark flashed in his reticle. “Court, two o’clock.”
“Let’s clear it out.”
Sweat raced along the side of Lee’s face and spine as he inched around the MRAP. His boot thumped against something. He glanced down—and flinched at the limp body of his buddy. On a knee, weapon still aimed at the building, he gripped the vest of Quirk, the young corporal.
Wide, unseeing eyes etched with the shock of the moment. Pressing his hand against the chest wound, Lee plunged into assessment mode, ignoring the warm wetness that squished through his fingers. The gaping hole— “Sniper!” Sweet Lord, help us. They were ambushed. Sniper. RPG. What prayer did they have left?
“Corpsman!” Lee gripped the man’s vest straps. “Quirk, hey. Don’t do this, man. No quitting.”
Another Marine sprinted toward them, allowing Lee to refocus on breaking this ambush site. Breaking the sick cowards who hid and played lethal games of tag with U.S. troops.
He met the steely gaze of his fire-team members—minus one. Another trio of Marines joined them as their cover team. As he lifted the weapon and trained it on the building, he nodded to Court and True, then darted across the fifteen-foot space that separated the partially disabled convoy from the hideouts.
Halfway across, Court dove to the left.
Tat-tat-tat!
The report rang in Lee’s ears as he threw himself against the plaster and cement wall.
“Base, this is Echo One, we need that air support—five minutes ago!” Court nodded to Lee before keying his mic again. “Going in.”
Stacked—True behind with his M4 trained on the point of entry—Lee waited for the signal.
A tap on his shoulder.
Lee fired a short burst against the door handle. Balanced on his left leg, he slammed his booted heel against the door. Crack! It whipped open.
Court stepped around him and tossed a hand grenade into the room. “Frag out!” He jerked back behind Lee, who spined the exterior wall.
Clink…clink…BOOM!
Lee threw himself into motion. Over the threshold, he registered the southernmost wall missing. He swung left. Dust puffed as he rushed the darkened corner. Light streamed in, taunting the smoke and debris rustled by the grenade. Two steps in, one foot from the wall. His weapon grazed the smoke-drenched interior and cleared a path to the left. He heard Court step in and do the same to the opposite corner. Lee hustled toward the left corner, tracking back and forth, adrenaline on high.
To avoid fratricide Lee called, “Next man in,” and hurried along the wall, pieing the room to divide up the coverage.
The swish of tactical pants preceded True as he entered. Effectively covering both corners and the door, the three-man team moved forward. To Lee’s left a door boasted a spray of bullet holes. Half a window frame drooped against the wide-open maw in the rear.
“Clear,” Court called.
A shadow killed the light.
Lee swung hard right. Movement skittered just beyond the hole in the wall. Scritch-scritch-scritch—
“Stairs!” He hustled forward, staring down the muzzle of his weapon.
Behind him, he heard the others cluster. To his right, the wall was missing. To the left, cement and darkness—and that’s where the mystery guest had gone. They were blind, so they’d have to use extreme caution. He took up a dominant position. Experience told him Court was behind him and True pulled up the rear.
Eyes trained on the corner in case someone rounded it, Lee knelt and focused on the smooth movement of the team. They’d done this doz
ens of times. Still, one careless mistake and they were dead.
Court’s boots crunched against the dirt floor as he pied out to the right as far as possible. Then slowly advanced to increase his angle of fire farther into the dead space.
“Ready,” Lee grunted.
“Move!”
They both angled into the open, True tailing. In the blazing afternoon sun, Lee cleared left—stairs! Just as he’d thought. Open, cement steps. No railing. Just a path up to the roof. He climbed two steps, knowing Court would be one step down and to the side. Lee turned to cover overhead, mentally noting his partner oriented to the front, to cover him from getting shot in the back.
Tracing the edge of the upper level with the tip of his muzzle flash hider, Lee backstepped carefully up the stairs, sweeping. Covering. Pieing. Though adrenaline and a need to kill the puke who’d taken out the MRAP and killed Quirk sped through his body, Lee wouldn’t take another step without fully clearing the area. As he approached the roof, he bent lower with each level until he crouched, the roof skimming his head.
Lee drew in his fears and harnessed them into taking out some cowards. Glanced to the side—to Court. Then True. Both nodded their readiness. He blew a breath from puffed cheeks. Gave a curt nod.
Court went first.
Lee and True followed, weapons ready. They hurried over the lip of the roof, scanning…chairs, blankets, a Styrofoam cooler…a small room jutted up from the middle.
Tension high, stomach knotted, Lee hurried toward it. Scissor-stepping, he swallowed hard, expecting an enemy combatant to leap out at any second. He and Court cleared the L-shaped corner with ease. Nobody. He was almost disappointed.
“Where are they?” True growled through gritted teeth.
Lee glanced around. Looked over the front of the building and shouted to the team, “Where’d they go?”
Raised arms and shrugs replied.
He kicked the knee-high wall. Cursed. Swiped the beads of sweat from his face and eyes. Another fire team streamed onto the roof. Confusion squeezed his brain. How could he have gotten away? They’d chased him up here. Lee saw him!