Breaking Creed

24

Creed ignored the sweat dripping down his back and the buzz of mosquitoes. Bastards would eat him alive if given half a chance. He’d drenched a kerchief in Hannah’s special elixir and tied it around his neck. Then he rubbed some of the liquid over exposed parts of his body: face, neck, hands, and ankles. The rest of the stuff he sprayed on Bolo and raked through his short coat. Must be working. The big dog was snoring, sprawled out in the knee-high grass alongside him.

His snores made Creed wonder if this could all be a waste of time. Maybe he was being overly paranoid once again. Were the drugs inside Amanda worth it? Was she worth it? Seems like it would be easier to cut their losses and consider her collateral damage.

He had taken up a patrol post in his neighbor’s field across the road from his own property. Nestled inside the tall grass at the edge of the pine forest, he had a perfect view, not only of the entrance to his own driveway, but the entire stretch along the road. Anyone who dared to come onto his property would have to somehow manage it from this side. Otherwise they’d need to cross a river and hack their way through the thicket and forest.

Creed couldn’t imagine a bunch of arrogant drug-cartel goons going through the trouble, especially in the pitch-black of night with only a sliver of moonlight. No way could they stumble around in the dark in an area they didn’t know without bringing flashlights.

But then, what did he know about drug-cartel hit men?

He did know a thing or two about staging a security post — watching and looking out for the enemy. Unfortunately, stuff like that from his Afghanistan tours stuck with him. Of course, there was a big difference waiting for the enemy with only a shotgun and a dog, instead of an AK-47. But then, Bolo wasn’t any dog.

Named for the law enforcement acronym BOLO, Be On The Lookout, the dog had lived up to his name on more than several occasions. As far as Creed could tell, he was a mixture of Labrador retriever, with his webbed paws and lopsided grin along with Rhodesian ridgeback, sporting the breed’s telltale ridge of hair that ran the length of his spine in the opposite direction of his coat. He had a nose on him that made him one of Creed’s best air-scent dogs, yet Creed used a lot of discretion before taking Bolo on a job.

Ridgebacks were developed in South Africa and nicknamed African lion hounds because they could keep a lion at bay until their master was able to make the kill. They were known for strength and intelligence. Large and muscular, they had an imposing, almost daunting presence, but they weren’t usually aggressive dogs. More mischievous than anything else. They could, however, be loyal to a fault and dangerously overprotective of their master.

On one of their last outings, a sheriff’s deputy had yelled at Creed. Without warning and in only a matter of seconds, Bolo had flattened the rather large man. Ninety pounds of dog had to be removed from the man’s chest, though Bolo hadn’t bitten him or grabbed any limbs.

It wasn’t the first time the dog had attacked someone he thought was a threat to his master. It was one of the reasons Creed had to be careful what assignments he took Bolo on. It was also the reason he had him along tonight. Though not specifically trained as an apprehension dog, he was the closest thing Creed had to one. He figured the dog could probably take down an intruder faster and better than Creed could with the shotgun. But he was in no hurry to find out.

He had brought a sleeping bag, though he didn’t expect to sleep. The rolled-up bag cushioned his back from the tree bark. He’d be stiff and sore by morning from sitting all night in the damp, but it was nothing some laps in the pool wouldn’t smooth away. Just as he started to readjust his long legs, Bolo’s head shot up.

“It’s okay, buddy, it’s just me.”

But it wasn’t just him. And now Creed could hear the approaching engine. He put a hand on the dog’s back to keep him by his side. In the dark Creed tried to see the vehicle, but even as the sound grew louder he couldn’t see it. Then he realized why, as he spotted movement about a half-mile up the road.

The vehicle didn’t have its headlights on.