The place belonged to an old friend who had died without children.
There was a small house.
A barn.
A water tank.
And enough desert surrounding it to make surprise visitors difficult.
Margaret looked around.
"You live here?"
"Sometimes."
"Why?"
"Because nobody comes here."
Sarge jumped from the truck.
He immediately began checking the property.
Garrett watched him.
The dog moved through the barn.
Checked the fence.
Returned.
Then stopped.
He stared at the western tree line.
Garrett followed his gaze.
Nothing.
"See something?"
Sarge remained still.
Margaret came outside.
"Your dog does that often."
"Not without reason."
She looked toward the trees.
"I used to think animals were simple."
Garrett smiled.
"They're simpler than people."
Margaret looked at him.
"Are you afraid?"
Garrett considered the question.
"Yes."
She seemed surprised.
"You are?"
"Of course."
"Then why aren't you acting like it?"
Garrett leaned against the truck.
"Fear is useful."
"How?"
"It tells you something matters."
He looked toward Sarge.
"I learned that a long time ago."
Inside the house, Margaret finally opened the envelope.
Thirty-two names.
Payments.
Dates.
Locations.
Amounts.
Garrett read slowly.
Some names were unfamiliar.
Others were not.
Then he saw one.
Colonel Marcus Vale.
Retired.
The man who had signed Garrett's final deployment orders.
Garrett sat down.
Margaret watched him.
"You know him."
"Yes."
"Was he good?"
Garrett looked at the paper.
"I thought so."
She waited.
Garrett continued reading.
At the bottom of the list was another name.
Evan Holloway.
Garrett stopped breathing.
"Evan received money?"
Margaret shook her head.
"No."
Garrett looked closer.
The payment was listed as received by someone else.
But the note beside it said:
HOLLOWAY — ASSET STATUS UNKNOWN.
Garrett's hand tightened around the page.
Then Sarge barked.
One sharp bark.
Garrett stood.
The dog ran toward the back door.
A rock struck the window.
Margaret screamed.
Garrett pulled her down.
A second rock hit.
Then a third.
The power went out.
Darkness filled the room.
Sarge growled.
Garrett moved to the window.
Outside, headlights appeared.
Three vehicles.
Margaret whispered:
"They're here."
Garrett looked at Sarge.
The dog stood between them.
Ready.
Garrett reached for his old military flashlight.
"Stay behind me."
Margaret grabbed his sleeve.
"Garrett."
"What?"
"If they take me, burn the papers."
He stared at her.
"No."
"They will kill you."
"Maybe."
"Then why?"
Garrett looked toward the door.
"Because Kate spent thirty-nine years telling me I was too stubborn to die."
A faint smile crossed his face.
"I'd hate to prove her wrong now."
The front door exploded inward.
Sarge lunged.
And the house disappeared into chaos.
Sarge
The first man through the doorway never expected the dog.
Sarge hit him in the chest.
Both men crashed into the floor.
Garrett grabbed Margaret and moved her toward the back room.
Another man entered.
Garrett slammed the door into him.
The man stumbled.
Sarge barked.
Not wildly.
Commanding.
The second man stopped.
For one strange second, Garrett saw fear in his eyes.
Not fear of Garrett.
Fear of Sarge.
"Back!"
The man shouted.
Garrett understood something.
These men knew dogs.
They knew what Sarge was.
They knew what a trained German Shepherd could do.
The first attacker crawled backward.
Sarge stood over him.
Garrett shouted:
"Sarge!"
The dog immediately stepped away.
That was the difference between an animal and a trained working dog.
Discipline.
Control.
The attackers fled.
Their vehicles disappeared into the darkness.
Garrett locked the door.
Margaret sat on the floor.
Her hands shook violently.
Sarge walked over and placed his head against her shoulder.
She wrapped both arms around him.
"Thank you."
Sarge stayed.
Garrett looked at them.
Then he noticed something.
Margaret's cardigan had torn during the struggle.
A scar was visible along her left wrist.
Not a medical scar.
A surgical scar.
Garrett frowned.
"What's that?"
Margaret pulled the sleeve down.
"Nothing."
"Don't lie to me."
She looked at him.
"I was held captive."
Garrett went still.
"When?"
"Six months ago."
"By Meridian?"
She nodded.
"They wanted Daniel's files."
"What happened?"
"They kept me in a basement for nine days."
Garrett's expression hardened.
"Who rescued you?"
"Daniel."
"He was still alive?"
"For three weeks."
She looked down.
"Then he died."
Garrett sat beside her.
"What happened after?"
"I ran."
"How?"
"Daniel had hidden a key."
She looked at Sarge.
"That's why I knew."
Garrett frowned.
"Knew what?"
"The dog."
She touched Sarge's head.
"Daniel told me that if I ever saw a German Shepherd trained like this one, I should trust the man beside him."
Garrett felt something break inside his chest.
"Why?"
"Because Daniel said only one man he knew had ever trained a dog that way."
Garrett whispered:
"Who?"
Margaret looked at him.
"You."
Garrett stared into the darkness.
Twenty-three years earlier.
A deployment.
A mission that had never appeared on his official record.
A young intelligence officer named Daniel Mercer.
And Evan.
His brother.
Garrett suddenly remembered something he'd buried for decades.
Evan had not disappeared.
He had been assigned to the same operation.
And Garrett had been told he died.
But maybe he hadn't.
Maybe someone had wanted Garrett to believe it.
Sarge lifted his head.
A vehicle approached the house.
But this time, only one.
Garrett stood.
The headlights stopped.
A door opened.
Someone stepped out.
An old man's voice called:
"Garrett."
Garrett froze.
He knew that voice.
"Marcus Vale."
The Colonel
Marcus Vale entered slowly.
He was seventy-five now.
Gray hair.
Straight posture.
Walking cane.
But Garrett remembered him younger.
A colonel who never raised his voice because he never needed to.
Garrett kept his distance.
"You followed us."
Marcus shook his head.
"I followed them."
He pointed toward the road.
"The men who attacked you."
Garrett stared.
"You knew this was coming."
"Yes."
"And you let it happen?"
"No."
Marcus looked at Margaret.
"I'm sorry."
She said nothing.
Garrett stepped closer.
"You were on the list."
Marcus's expression changed.
"Then you saw it."