1115 hours, Baltimore, MD 13 December
Returning to our floor, I found Tony letting in the two men standing at his hotel room’s door. Tony looked down the hall and saw us coming, then left the door open so we could come in. The men finished scanning the room for recording devices then introduced themselves.
"My name is Special Agent Henry Michaels, and this is Field Agent Neil Goldman. Is this the dog?" Michaels asked me as he nodded in Colonel’s direction.
Either he was trying to be funny or he was somewhat dense. I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, so I said, "No, this is a pony. Doesn’t he look like a pony?" Idiot....
Michaels looked away from me with disdain, then motioned with a flicker of his fingertips for us to sit down. As he opened his silver attaché case, Colonel and I climbed up onto the queen sized bed while Tony pulled up a chair from the table by the window.
Michaels began our briefing, "Last night at 2200 hours, a tip was received regarding a bomb that might be placed on a Federal witness’ plane. You’ll be sweeping the plane tomorrow at 0700 hours for explosive devices before it flies this witness to his final location for court. This is the guy who could bring down the entire Colombian cocaine connection for the East coast," he finished.
I was more than a little confused. Larry Collins had the best explosive detection dogs in this area. He could have taken this job on through the ATF with just one phone call. Why didn't they call him instead of me? The confusion must’ve been apparent on my face, judging by Goldman’s next comment.
"We tried to offer the ATF’s K-9 services, but the witness insisted on having you come out, although oddly enough, he didn’t know your current name. He used an old name for you. He must know you from before." Goldman replied.
My heart dropped to my knees. This was a death sentence for me if I guessed right about the witness’ identity.
"Who is he?" I asked of no one in particular. My heart rate had slowed to a barely perceptible pace while my chest felt like I was trying to breathe through sand.
"It’s Doyle," Goldman replied. From his seat at the wet bar, he looked like a little Buddha, so round and complacent while delivering the news. His eyes took in every wrinkle on my face and every bundle of bunched up muscles in my jaws.
"I can’t. I’m sorry, " I stammered as I tried to get off the bed. My heart had decided to make up for lost circulation and now was thundering in my chest from fear. I was light headed and my feet didn’t appear to be connected to my legs anymore. I was pretty sure I was going to vomit, as a matter of fact.
Years ago, Doyle had been my business partner before he put a contract out on my life. With Doyle knowing that I was now a Bloodhound handler, it let me know that he possibly knew my new identity as well. This was it— I was bait waiting for the big shark to strike.
"You have no choice. Without you, he won’t testify. He demands that you and only you work the dog. He said to tell you 'It's over' and that he meant it kindly," Michaels countered.
I took a deep breath and willed my heart rate to slow back down. "You don’t understand. He knows I’m here now. He’s going to have me killed! That’s it—Tony and I are leaving." I was feeling close to hysteria, yet my voice came out as a ragged whisper instead.
"Well, you can’t leave- you’re already here. Also, Tony has been reassigned to the U.S. Marshall’s office. He’ll be on that plane handling this transport. You need to sweep the plane. Without this witness, we have no case."
Those jerks! They knew I couldn’t let Tony board that plane now without sweeping it first. They had waited to give him this job transfer until just the right moment, and now I was trapped. I turned to Tony.
"I know this is what you wanted, but I wish this plane wasn’t the one that you were on. I wish that this piece of dirt wasn’t someone that you were going to guard with your life. Yet, this is what has happened. You watched my back before, so I guess it’s my turn now to watch yours, eh?"
Towards Goldman I replied, "You should have told me more details about this job before I came out here. I have another dog that I would have brought along. I’ll sweep the plane, but I pick my own backup for the job. No arguments from you because you have no choice. Understood?" I hoped that my bluff would pay off. Without a special dog to watch my back, I would be too easy of a target.
"Yeah, we figured you’d want that. You've got it," Goldman responded.
"I need to make some calls, ok?" I directed at no one in particular.
Michaels replied, "Call the front desk when you’re ready tomorrow, we’ll be waiting to bring you to the hangar."
As soon as they left and the door was shut, I dug through our bags for a digital phone, then quickly dialed a number from memory. My prayers were answered when the phone was answered by a human instead of voice mail.
"Gina! Girlfriend! I have dirt for you and I want Freddie to hear it! How fast can you be at the Inner Harbor Marriott today? I missed you and Freddie, too! Yeah, you know I brought the wine but I can't drink until tomorrow afternoon. Yeah... bummer, I know. Hey, bring all the toys you can carry. Great, see you later." I hung up the phone after taking one final breath of relief at catching Gina right away. Gina was rarely at home anymore, always off on some excursion to exotic ports of call as a body guard to the rich and famous.
The only woman to become one of the Navy Seal’s elite fighting weapons, Gina was the toughest woman I knew. She was my height, but built of solid muscle. She also had a certain tool that I’d need for this mission that no one else could lay claim to: Gina had Freddie. She also had a lot of cool guns and explosive devices.
Three hours later, I sat nervously gnawing on a Twizzler licorice candy but craving a cigarette instead. I was sitting in front of the hotel listening to a local K-9 officer extol the virtues of his dog. For the last ten minutes, I had been listening to how his dog could take down any helper/ decoy in a sleeve when I first heard the rumblings of a thundering bass stereo system.
"You got a bite sleeve with you?" I asked Mr. K-9 Macho Man.
"Sure," he replied proudly, before opening the trunk on his pathetic Chevy Cavalier to display his training wares. The indistinct bass thuds slowly became a song that I knew by heart as I retrieved the sleeve from the trunk of his parked car.
I was just pulling it onto my left arm as I saw out of the corner of my eye a mutant black Ford Expedition screech into the parking lot. The Latin hit song, "Allez, Allez, Allez", blared from its speakers as I looked the K-9 officer in the eye and said, "I’ll bring this right back."
I took off running across the parking lot away from the shining Expedition as the music stopped suddenly. I couldn’t miss the sound over the surrounding road noise of a remote door actuator releasing the rear door of the vehicle. I had covered only a third of the nearly empty parking lot before I turned at the sound of a deep growl. I raised my left arm to shoulder height and prepared myself for the impact delivered by the animal sent out to stop me.
All 140 lbs. of well muscled Bloodhound hit the sleeve in a full bite. Even though I already had some momentum from my run, the dog’s force upon the sleeve elevated me several feet and threw me through the air before letting me come to a bumpy rest upon the asphalt. I kicked and cursed at the dog to no avail. He was on the sleeve good and proper and I couldn’t tear it from his grasp.
I released my grip on the sleeve to let him take it as I heard a woman’s commanding voice call out towards him, "Freddie, Out! Hee-yup!" The Bloodhound left my side to race toward his handler, my best friend since childhood, Gina.
"Stay where you are and raise your hands into the air!" Gina commanded.
Screw her, I thought. I wanted to see if the dog had it in him to bring me down without the sleeve. I stood up slowly with my hands raised, then broke into a jagged run back towards the Baltimore City K-9 officer and his vehicle.
"Release your dog! Hurry!" I screamed at him. He raced around the vehicle and opened the back door. His dog just looked blankly at me while staying put on the vinyl seat. He’d never been worked on a subject coming for him, which I had guessed would be the situation. I was about 20 meters from the K-9 officer’s vehicle when I felt Freddie hit me between the shoulder blades. I skidded unceremoniously along the pavement before coming to a stop with the dog barking just a few inches from my face as I rolled to face him. Despite my winter coat and gloves, the asphalt felt extremely hard against my back.
Every bark from the dog allowed his pendulous flews to send more wind my way. Freddie was barely inches from my nose and his teeth looked mighty big from my vantage point. His pupils had dilated from the excitement of the chase so that all I could see were inky black pools staring out from his eye sockets.
"Freddie, Out! Hee-yup! Platz!" Gina called to her dog. He raced back to drop by her left side again as I slowly got to my feet. I walked bent at the waist towards her as I caught the breath that Freddie had knocked out of me. Gina released Freddie from his down- stay and he bounded for me with joy on his face, grateful to see his favorite ‘Alpha Bitch’ once again. I had missed Freddie more than I did most of the rescued dogs that came through my doors for placement.
As his front feet hit my shoulders, I called out to Gina, "He’s huge! When’s he supposed to stop growing?" I laughed into his neck ruff as I hugged his slobber soaked face to mine, then dropped his front feet back to the ground.
Gina threw the canvas sleeve back at the officer and said through her laughter, "Next time, train your dog to react to all situations! Hey girl," Gina directed at me, "He’s only three years old! He’s still a puppy!"
As the cop drove off with an outwardly curled bottom lip, I hugged Gina then stepped back to get a good look at her. She hadn’t changed in the last 10 years. Solid muscle and standing at 5’ 6", she was the strongest woman that I knew. She reflected her physical strength in her outward appearance easily, as well as through her choice of vehicles and dogs. While I'd developed grey streaks in my hair, Gina's raven tresses glowed brightly in the diminishing sunlight.
While Fred had been the most difficult rescue dog that I’d had to rehabilitate, including coming to me with the knowledge that he’d put his last 2 handlers into the hospital, Gina was the one who had seen his true potential as a Schutzhund prospect. While Bloodhounds are not recommended for Patrol or Protection work, this dog had the right temperament for the job. Gina had honed and directed his aggression into a challenging force to be reckoned with.
Not only was Freddie the first Bloodhound to get a Schutzhund title, he was also one of the few dogs of any breed to make it to the SchH III level. He had consistently gotten the highest scores in every competition he attended, which was a true testament to Gina’s dedication to her dog. She had never forgotten the man who told her that rescue dogs couldn’t become good working K-9 partners. Never one to quit while she was ahead, Gina had helped Freddie earn his Canine Good Citizen certification through the AKC, proving once again that a well trained protection dog should be stable enough to be taken into public.
"Girlfriend! What in the Hell are you driving? It looks like a Ford Expedition on steroids!" I exclaimed.
"Well, she was just too damn short, so I gave her a 6 inch body lift over her 3 inch shackle and 4 inch suspension lifts last month. Then the stock tires looked ridiculously too small for her, so I added 33 inch ‘Monster Mudders’ on 15 inch wheels. Of course I had to add the 12K ‘WARN’ winches, front and rear, then change out the suspension package for dual ‘Cepek’s’. Then I discovered that Ford’s anti-slip rear wasn’t suitable for where I wanted to take her, so I put in Detroit lockers, front and rear. I guess you heard the stereo, huh?"
I looked at her truck, which would have been more appropriately labeled ‘Urban Assault Vehicle’ and whistled through my teeth. This truck was a honey! She was black in color with mirror finish tinted windows that blocked all views of the interior from the outside. The window tint was completely illegal in most jurisdictions, but Gina didn’t care. She had over $30K invested in add-ons, judging by my initial calculations. I stepped around to the driver’s door and climbed up the attached running board into the cab of her truck.
The truck's Blaupunkt stereo fed the Infinity speakers while being powered by two 200 watt amps under the front seats. It was no wonder I’d heard her coming from half a mile a way! The entire rear of the vehicle had been fitted with built in cabinets and a secure dog box for Freddie. It was perfect.
"Gina, I don’t know whether to shoot you and then steal the truck and Freddie, or just sit here and cry from jealousy! This is the most perfect vehicle you’ve had to date! That Hummer I’m tooling around in now can’t compare!" I was dumbfounded and dazzled by all the additional goodies she’d affixed to this beast on wheels.
"And what in the Hell is this glittering red switch for? Please tell me that’s not what I think it is!" I cried out.
"Oh, the motor that these pigs come with was just too lame for me. I had a Cummings Diesel engine installed but still didn’t get the juice I wanted. I finally went to a Gel fuel engine with Nitrous boosters. I had to reinforce the frame to handle the torque, but Girl, now I can hit 175 m.p.h.! Is that too cool or what?" She answered me.
Nitrous oxide boosters... 510 horsepower engine... I recalculated my estimate of add-on costs. Gina had over $100K into this truck, easily. She had no kids except for Freddie the Bloodhound so she could spend her money as she pleased, I figured. I looked down at her in her black BDU’s and Gore-Tex jacket in awe. From my vantage point she and Freddie looked dwarfed.
“Are you still dating him?” I asked as I pointed toward the now silent stereo.
“Please! You know I get bored with my boy toys too fast! Ricky was sent on his way, sniveling to Mama last Autumn. I like traveling with the music, not the chatter, if you know what I mean.”
I knew what she meant. "You're gonna' make that dog go deaf, you know. The music is too loud. That Rock and Roll stuff is the Devil’s doing, you know." I jokingly admonished her using an old joke between us.
“You’re acting like an old woman. That mountain living will make you go soft. I told you that when you left the city all those years ago,” She retorted.
"So I’m old, graying and still a bitch. It sucks to be me. You ready to go to work?" I asked her.
From the movie "Fargo", Gina replied, "You betcha’!" in a perfect mockery of a Mid-West accent.
I reached into the back seat area of her truck and grabbed two heavy duffel bags. Gina went to the rear of the vehicle to get the last heavy bag with her arsenal of weapons. We had always joked about the number of toys she carried with her, and her reply was always the same, "You don't bring a switchblade to a gun fight. You know that," and then she'd smile wickedly. She armed her truck’s security system and we walked off.
With only a few hours left to get ready for tomorrow’s job, Gina, Freddie and I headed back to my hotel room to outline tomorrow’s duties. We had just walked into the room when the phone began to ring. Gina let Freddie and Colonel get reunited again, then introduced him to Tony as I picked up the phone.
As he’d walked through the adjoining door of our suite, Tony looked terrified of Freddie’s size and intense stare which meant that it was a good thing that he’d be leaving me soon.
Fear from my partner put me at risk on a mission. I'd ignored it as best as I could until now, but now saw that there was no denying one painful fact: Tony was too weak to keep working with me any longer. I looked away from his direction in pity and identified myself to the caller on the phone.
The soft voice of my FBI contact greeted me quickly, then said, "When you get done tomorrow, get back to the airport ASAP. You’re going home to switch out partners then you head back to Nebraska immediately. We have another one." He abruptly cut off the connection to leave me listening to a hollow silence.
My gut wrenched. Another girl was dead and I wasn’t sure that I’d be alive to work the case after tomorrow’s job ended. Hopefully with Gina and Freddie along for this job, we'd all come home in one piece. I turned to Gina to outline tomorrow's mission, then told her what I’d need from them to keep Colonel and I safe. I then let fly the final question for her.
"Hey girl," I asked from across the room, "How do you feel about Nebraska?"
— Jess Sokoloff
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