Backpedaling, the man tripped and fell on his ass, his baseball cap falling off to expose more of his face. And he looked incredibly familiar.
Cruz put a leash on Atlas as Rojas and Forte arrived, armed and looking grim. The three men advanced on the man cowering in the center of three GSDs. Now that they had him at bay, if he so much as moved, they’d be on him ripping and tearing. Two of them were holding position—barking and snarling—making one hell of a racket. The third and largest was bristling and baring his teeth, but he was silent.
Dangerous, that one. He was the likeliest to break and attack the man physically.
Rojas must’ve shared the assessment, striding around to leash the biggest dog first. Forte took a position between the other two and leashed them.
“I wouldn’t relax if I were you.” Cruz figured it was only fair to warn the man. “There’s enough slack in all these leashes to let these dogs ruin your day.”
Possibly his life. It all depended on how far things went. The three GSDs were trained to rip and tear, possibly break bone. Atlas was trained to go for a kill bite.
Speaking of Atlas, now that the intruder was essentially neutralized, Cruz turned his attention to the big dog. Panting heavily, Atlas must have run a decent distance at high speed. If he’d known his way, he might’ve gone as fast as he could. No telling where he’d been freed and how familiar he’d been with the area. Lyn and Cruz had taken Atlas for long walks as far as five to eight miles away in both directions along the main road next to the kennel. So chances were, Atlas had been close to home when he’d gotten loose.
Taking a knee, Cruz ran his hands over Atlas checking for injuries. No blood, no bullet holes or grazes.
“Any damage?” Forte made the question curt, expressionless. No need to give the prisoner any impressions to go on.
Cruz shook his head. “No. He’s run hard though. He’ll need to be cooled down.”
Not an immediate need but soon. There was a higher priority and Atlas would agree.
Forte nodded sharply, then focused on the intruder. “You want to tell me why you are on my land, opening fire on a dog under our care?”
“Dog’s not yours.” The other man’s answer was sullen, belligerent.
“And you would know, wouldn’t you?” Cruz jerked his chin at the man. “This is the guy who was following our lady friends in New Hope.”
The man knew Lyn’s name for sure but he might not know Sophie’s. No need to give him information.
Still, at the mention of Sophie, Forte’s grim expression darkened and chilled. Not a good combination for the intruder. “I think we’re going to have a little chat while we wait for the police to arrive then.”
“Get up.” Rojas barked out the words.
“Fuck that. Damned dogs will eat me.” The intruder grimaced, but didn’t move a muscle. He was staring at Atlas.
Seemed the man had seen what a working dog could do. Maybe he’d witnessed what Atlas specifically could do.
“Stay where you are and we’ll let them loose.” Forte sounded almost cheerful and let up on the leashes of the two smaller GSDs just enough to let them loom closer. “Do as we say, you have a better chance of walking away with your skin intact.”
The man swore and scrambled to his feet, holding out his hands palms open. His gun lay forgotten a few feet away where Rojas had discreetly shoved it with a foot.
“Not fond of dogs?” Forte didn’t even bother sounding nice about the question. “Maybe you should get to know these a little better since you tried to shoot one of them.”
*
“Sit the fuck down and don’t make a sound or I’ll gag you ’til you choke.” Zuccolin’s mood had only gotten worse during the drive.
They’d broken speed limits getting here but seemed like everyone did on the main highway. Their car had only gone with the flow of traffic and there’d been no lucky police stop to give her the chance to scream for help.
Lyn stumbled to the chair and sat. When the other man grabbed her arm, she jerked free and pain blinded her again as Zuccolin struck her across the face.
“Don’t hit her again.” The voice echoed inside her skull as she blinked to clear her vision.
“Sir, she’s caused a shit-ton of trouble.” Zuccolin’s tone had changed abruptly. Being around a commanding officer would do that to a man.
“She was not your objective. Her presence is going to be a serious issue and you will answer for this problem.” The tone was flat, cold, and horrifyingly familiar. “Do not ever hit her again, for any reason. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.” Zuccolin stepped away as the other man finished duct-taping her elbows to the arms of the chair. Her wrists were still bound.
But she wasn’t gagged yet and she craned her neck to get a look at the officer. “Captain Jones.”