Sharon Dunn - Courage Under Fire

His grip loosened enough for her to twist free. She ran only a few steps before he grabbed her shirt and dragged her back toward him. She spun around landing a chop to his neck designed to cause pain by pinching nerves. The move disabled her attacker long enough for her to get a head start.

The ground was softer this close to the shore. The water of the bay shimmered in her peripheral vision as she sprinted. She needed to get back up to the trail to find her bike before he could grab her again.

The landscape darkened and shadows covered the trees and bushes as the last light of the sun faded. His footsteps pounded behind her. She willed herself to go faster. Air filled her lungs and her breathing intensified. She veered off, hoping to head back up toward the trail and her bike.

She attacker remained close at her heels. Just as she arrived at her bike, he grabbed her. She whirled around, getting in several solid blows. He grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around.

The attacker wrapped his arms around her, coming at her from behind. He seemed to want to restrain her rather than fight back. His arms suctioned around her like an anaconda. His mouth was very close to her ear.

“There now,” he said.

His warm breath and sickly sweet words sent a new wave of fear through her. When she tried to twist free, he tightened his grip on her waist.

Then she heard a most welcome sound, the dogs baying and barking. Still some distance away but clearly headed toward her.

The man let go of her and stepped back. He wore a hat and she could not see his face in the dim light. Clearly frightened by the approaching dogs, he turned to go. She wasn’t about to let him get away. She leaped through the air, seeking to knock him to the ground. The attacker did not fall, which left her hanging on to his back.

“NYPD,” she shouted.

He shook her off, ran a few paces and then bent over.

She caught up with him. He swung around. In the darkness, she had not seen him pick up the rock he now had in his hand. It hit the side of her head. Her knees buckled.

The ground drew ever closer as dots filled her field of vision.

Her attacker loomed above her. “Next time.”

She heard his retreating footsteps as her world went black.

Noah Jameson’s heartbeat ticked up a notch as he let his Rottweiler, Scotty, pick up the scent of Officer Lani Branson. Three dogs on their long leads sniffed, barked and circled back to spots before taking off on the trail. Officer Finn Gallagher’s K-9 partner, a yellow Lab trained in search and rescue, took the lead. Reed Branson, Lani’s brother, followed with bloodhound Jessie, a tracking K-9.

The dogs’ enthusiasm was infectious. This kind of excitement made him feel alive. This was what he loved about police work, the action. Being out in the field nourished him even if it was just a training exercise. It beat sitting behind a desk putting out administrative fires and keeping the upper brass happy.

Until his murder last spring, Noah’s older brother Jordan had been the chief of the NYC K-9 Command Unit. Though there had been some jockeying for the job, Noah had been the one appointed to fill his brother’s shoes, temporarily at least. He missed working the street with Scotty, chasing down leads and suspects. More than anything, he missed his older brother. That the NYPD, himself included, had been unable to track down Jordan’s killer only made the wound more raw and the grief harder to bear.

Scotty kept his nose to the ground as they worked their way along the path. Scotty was trained in emergency services which meant he could do a little of everything. The other dogs kept pace with Scotty.

So far the trail had been easy enough to follow, but they hadn’t found Lani’s bicycle yet. Once she got off the bike, she’d been instructed to move in the same erratic pattern a five-year-old might take. Though he had his concerns about Lani’s ability to be a K-9 officer, she had a good attitude about being the guinea pig.

A tightening in his chest indicated his doubts were getting the better of him. Once she was in place, Lani was to have no communication with him or anyone on the team. He thought he’d heard the radio turn on and then off suddenly. It was probably nothing. Lani was in great physical condition and had done well at the academy, it was just that her chattiness made her come across as lacking confidence. Anytime he had interacted with her, Lani tended to talk a mile a minute.

The sky darkened as they headed up the trail. Noah and the other officers jogged to keep up with the dogs. They worked their way on the path running for at least twenty minutes. The dogs stopped and split off the trail, each of them alerting and then sniffing in a circle. This must be where Lani had left the trail.

Noah followed Scotty through the tangled brush.

“Come on, boy, you can find her.”

Scotty raised his head, sniffed the air and then put his nose back on the ground. He picked up the scent again. They headed off the trail into the tall grass. Scotty lifted his head and sat on his back haunches. That was his hard alert. Noah stared into the brush. Metal shone in the waning light.

He’d found the bicycle.

Noah spoke into his radio. “Scotty’s picked up the trail.”

The two other dogs bayed and fell in behind Scotty. The dogs took them across the dunes back into the trees and down to the shore. Though he could still hear the barking, the dogs spread out as they moved through the trees.

Reed’s panic-filled voice came across the line. “We got a problem. You better come see this.”

Noah could see Reed and Jessie through the tangle of brush. Judging from the high-pitched baying, Jessie was excited. No sign of Lani. He shortened the lead on Scotty and hurried through the trees.

“What is it?”

Reed held up a police radio. Lani’s. Reed’s voice filled with concern. “She wouldn’t tear it off herself. Something’s gone wrong.”

There was only a small chance the radio had gotten hung up on something as she ran. Noah’s thoughts raced as he took in the scene around him. Both dogs indicated a high level of excitement. The grass was smashed down. Some sort of struggle had taken place.

“The dogs will find her. If someone else is out here too, we’ll find him as well.”

Noah radioed the other handler, Finn, to see if his Lab picked up on any new scent.

As they followed the dogs through the brush, Noah pushed away any negative thoughts. If he’d learned anything from his K-9 partner, it was to stay focused.

Reed and Jessie headed in a different direction, maybe toward whomever else was out here.

Scotty worked methodically. Jessie sniffed a different area, more toward the shore, trying to find the trail. A new level of panic invaded Noah’s awareness as Scotty worked his way through the brush and then sat down, head held high.

Noah saw Lani’s blond hair visible in the moonlight. Her motionless body twisted at an odd angle set off alarm bells as he hurried toward her.

He drew close and kneeled beside her. Scotty emitted a whine and then leaned to lick Lani’s face. Still, she did not move.

“I’m worried too,” said Noah. As he gazed at her motionless body, the grief over the loss of his brother hit him like a semitruck. Another officer wasn’t going to die, not on his watch. His fingers touched Lani’s neck. Her pulse pushed back on his fingertips. He breathed a sigh of relief. She was still alive. There was a bruise on the side of her head. Her hair had worked loose of the tight bun she kept it in when on duty. Signs that she’d been in a fight.

While Noah radioed for medical help, Reed rushed toward them through the tangle of brush.