He made a decisive, simple hand gesture. “Zoek. Zoek Sophie, Haydn.”
Haydn had been standing awkwardly to keep his prosthetic limb from sinking in the mud. But the command sent the dog into a blur of motion, and he shot down the creek bed.
Watching, Forte allowed himself a hint of hope. Three legs and a whole lot of heart were headed Sophie’s way. Haydn would be able to catch her scent and home in on her faster than Forte’s memory and limited two-legged stride could. And the dog had a better stealth advantage.
Several hundred yards ahead, Haydn changed course, veering sharply to charge up the steeper bank. Forte crouched low as he advanced, scanning the higher ground for the danger. He took the bank at an angle, slowing down as rocks and loose chunks of partially dried dirt broke away from the incline under his weight.
There was a hard thud as a body hit the ground with a surprised curse.
Forte ran up the rest of the bank, his thighs burning with the effort. He had his firearm ready, safety off, as he came over the edge. A man lay belly down in the dead leaves, both hands shielding the back of his head as Haydn stood over him. The German Shepherd Dog had a jawful of the man’s shirt and protective vest.
“Los.” Forte approached warily, searching the ground for weaponry. The man had been armed.
Haydn released his prey and stood back, ready to pounce on the man again if he tried to get up.
“Don’t move.” Forte issued the warning, flat and cold. He didn’t bother with a follow-up threat. This was a mercenary, not a civilian. The man had covered his head but otherwise hadn’t tried to fight Haydn. He’d known the damage the dog could’ve done.
Working dogs could bite to rip and tear. They could break bones. Overseas, in intense combat situations, they were trained to deliver even more decisive damage. It was a hard truth and necessity. Here, on US soil, Forte would use minimum force required to subdue his adversary, but he would not give the man the chance to take advantage of the mercy.
The man stayed where he was as Forte circled him, spending precious seconds ensuring a weapon wasn’t within reach. Whatever weapon the man had been carrying had been knocked away when Haydn had taken him down. Bending close, Forte tapped the man’s skull with the butt of his gun.
Okay, maybe it’d been a touch more force than the minimum required. Either way, the man went limp, unconscious.
Forte directed his attention to his partner. “Haydn. Zoek Sophie.”
The dog turned and left him.
Temporarily holstering his weapon in the hidden harness under his T-shirt, Forte pulled a few zip ties from his pants pocket. Zip ties were as handy as duct tape in a lot of situations and he always had a few randomly in his pockets. Made it a pain in the ass when it came time to do laundry, but now he was glad to have them. Sophie had tried to tease him about them, but then she was always finding random ponytail holders in her pockets.
Forte kneeled on the man’s back and secured the bastard’s hands. This one was neutralized.
He searched the man anyway, patting him down and removing anything the guy might use to free himself once he woke up. A small secondary gun in an ankle holster and a long, wicked knife strapped to his lower leg became loot. Satisfied, Forte dragged the inert man a few yards to the side and dumped him in an indentation in the ground under a low growing shrub. If the two by the cabin came this way, they wouldn’t see their comrade immediately. Forte was going to have to hope the man’s primary weapon stayed lost in the piles of leaves.
One threat out of the way. One ahead. Forte drew his gun again. Arms straight, elbows slightly bent, he kept his weapon pointed at the ground as he continued in the direction Haydn had gone.
*
Silence would’ve been frightening, but the darkness in the woods was the opposite of quiet. Leaves rustled all around her. Trees groaned as the wind passed through the upper branches, and twigs snapped out along the forest floor.
If there’d been a hooting owl or a fox calling out in the night, she could have breathed easier. But the signs of wildlife were absent, too. Night had fallen, and there were none of the haunting sounds of nature to reassure her. The animals were in hiding, the way they were when humans hunted in their world.