Just the way I like it.
Tucker checked the shoulder and belly straps on Kane’s K9 Storm tactical vest, making sure it was snug but not chaffing. The Kevlar-reinforced vest was waterproof and, more important, bulletproof. Despite that protection, Tucker felt the old scars hidden under the black-and-tan ruff. Tucker shared the same scars, some easy to see, others just as well hidden.
As he worked, he felt his partner’s heart pounding, the tremble of excitement in the dog’s muscles. Kane knew it was time to get to work, to transform from furry companion to stealthy soldier. Tucker scuffled and rubbed Kane’s ears, physically reinforcing their bond through touch. He then leaned closer, deepening that connection, smelling his partner’s musk, appreciating the hot breath heaving through black nostrils.
In an age-old ritual, he touched noses with Kane, acknowledging what he was asking of the dog, to put himself in harm’s way to save others.
“Who’s a good boy?” he whispered to his best friend.
Kane licked his nose.
That’s right, you are.
Tucker reached to the webbing of the vest’s collar. He flipped up a camera hidden there and slipped a wireless radio plug into Kane’s left ear. The gear allowed the pair to be in constant visual and audio contact with one another. Tucker positioned the camera’s lens to peer over Kane’s shoulder and turned it on. He then seated a pair of DARPA-designed goggles across his own eyes. He tapped a button on the side of the goggles and a live feed from Kane’s camera appeared on the inside corner of the lens.
Satisfied, he slipped a wireless radio transmitter into his own mouth, fitting it behind his last tooth. The tiny radio—nicknamed a Molar Mic—allowed Tucker to communicate to Kane in whispers, while incoming transmissions reached Tucker’s ear directly via bone induction through the jaw. Luckily the transmissions could be tamped down to make it less likely to be detected, though doing so limited the radio’s reach. Tucker would only broadcast louder if he needed to reach Ndaye.
Testing the communication channel, Tucker mouthed breathlessly to his partner, “You ready, buddy?”
Kane wagged his tail. His partner’s eyes glinted with suppressed excitement, knowing what was coming, anxious to get moving.
Then let’s do this.
He straightened and swung around. Ndaye stared back, plainly guessing Tucker was ready to set off. The eco-guard offered him a thumb’s up. Tucker returned it, then faced the thick jungle. The plan was to parallel the river and head toward where the signal was lost.
Tucker pointed toward the forest. Even before he whispered the command “SCOUT,” Kane was already moving, anticipating the instruction.
As the dog swept into the forest, Tucker followed in his wake. Kane quickly vanished into the deeper shadows. Tucker studied the terrain both through his eyes and through the image transmitted to his goggles from Kane’s camera. A bobbling view of leafy loam, bushes, and vines merged with his own. Though it was disorienting for several breaths, it quickly became second nature. Kane’s panting filled his skull, coming to match his own breathing. Even the tread of his boots settled into an easy harmony with the padding of Kane’s paws. In that timeless moment, the two became one, a perfect harmony of action and intent.
In another corner of his goggles, a real-time map marked his progress along the path of Monk’s signal. Blip after blip vanished as he continued along that route. He kept the river on his left. He set a steady but fast pace. It was made easier by the shade-choked canopy that for long stretches reduced the undergrowth to occasional patches of thorny bushes and a scattering of bamboo thickets entwined with creepers and vines.
Otherwise, the forest climbed two hundred feet overhead, a towering colonnade of palms, rubber and mahogany trees, even small copses of red cedar. Beneath the canopy, the jungle was a damp emerald cathedral. Orchids and lilies offered bursts of nearly luminescent colors. Iridescent butterflies seemed to hover in the air, as if hung there ages ago.
Humbled and awed, he found himself holding his breath for long stretches. Even the centuries of decaying leaf litter muffled his footfalls. The silence was profound. He had expected a constant whir of insects, a cacophony of birdsong, a chattering chorus of monkeys. Instead, the place was deathly quiet, as if a great intelligence were studying him. He felt like a trespasser, an interloper who had no right to traipse this forest.
This did not apply to his companion.
Kane ran ahead, his fur blending into and out of the dappled shadows. He moved without a sound, as much a part of the forest as any living creature. His tail flagged behind him, his ears piqued. His breathing was only a whisper in Tucker’s ear.
As the pair continued, the air grew more humid, fecund and heavy. The sodden smell of rot and dampness filled his nostrils, along with the occasional sweeter brume from flowing vines. With each inhalation, it felt as if the jungle were trying to seed into his lungs. He found himself quickly growing winded, despite the steady pace. He could normally run a 10K in under an hour and barely break a sweat. With only half that distance covered, his brow already ran and dripped. His jungle camo shirt clung to his chest and back. His backpack had become a boulder over his shoulders.
Still, he kept a wary watch on the forest. He dared not let his guard down. Not just due to the unknown enemy ahead, but also from what hid in this green cathedral. Leopards and cheetahs prowled here, along with jackals and hyenas. And that only accounted for the larger denizens. Snakes of all sizes slithered about this forest, many of them poisonous: puff adders, tree cobras, mambas. Then there were the untold numbers of scorpions, spiders, and biting centipedes.
With each stride, he appreciated his waterproof hiking boots and the thickness of his khaki pants and sleeves. Still, tension built into a knot between his shoulder blades.
A scream burst through the jungle and made him jump.
A burst of color overhead revealed the angry flight of a long-beaked toucan, likely roused from its nest by his passage. He both apologized to and cursed the creature.
As he continued onward, time stretched strangely. The clock inside his goggles offered the only true assessment of his progress. He watched the blips on his live map slowly be eaten away. It took him over ninety minutes to reach the last one.
When he did, he whistled softly for Kane to stop. His partner obeyed, loping in a circle to join his side. Kane panted, his eyes bright in the shadows, as if lit by fires inside the dog. Tucker stared ahead as he offered Kane some water from his canteen. The transponder’s signal had been roughly following the neighboring river. Though the trail ended here, he had to assume it continued alongside this waterway.
It must lead somewhere.
Tucker pointed ahead. “SCOUT,” he whispered again to Kane. He also gripped his wrist and pulled his hand to this chest, silently adding the command STAY CLOSE.
They set off again, paralleling the river, heading downstream. Kane led the way, but only by a handful of yards. Tucker was glad he had taken the wary precaution. The jungle grew steadily thicker, less a cathedral and more like a crowded church. Visibility dropped in all directions. Even the branches lowered, threatening to brush the field hat off his head. The humidity also increased, as if the air was being crushed by the press of vegetation.
The reason for the thickening forest glinted in the distance.