Breaking Creed

66

“Look at that.” A giant of a man came into the kennels’ warehouse after a good ten minutes of peering around the corner of the open garage-style door. “This should be easy.”

Creed saw him point at the dogs in their kennels at the far end of the building.

“It’ll be like shooting rats in a barrel.”

Creed swallowed bile and let himself feel anger instead of panic. He stayed calm and he stayed hidden as he continued to glance at his cell phones and iPad and watch the giant’s two buddies venture inside behind him.

The giant stood at least six-five and weighed three hundred pounds of solid muscle, by Creed’s estimate. With his gear he looked like a space monster. The infrared goggles were pushed up into a thick mass of dreadlocks, making him appear to have eyes on the top of his head. He was dressed like his buddies, in a black T-shirt and camouflage pants.

This was Cheyenne’s group. Creed recognized the small guy in the Kevlar vest with the bandanna wrapped around his head. He had taken off his goggles and let them dangle on his chest. The third guy — suntanned and wavy blond hair — looked like he could have stepped off his surfboard and strapped on a military belt, with the knife still in its scabbard and the automatic revolver in his right hand.

The second group — Nuru’s — had just tripped the sensor over at the pool and training house. Bad timing. Creed wouldn’t be able to give both his attention.

Creed felt sweat slide down his back. The gear hanging from his neck suddenly felt heavy and in his way. He swung it slowly and quietly around to hang down his back instead of his chest until he needed it.

“They aren’t even barking at us,” the surfer guy said. “Look at them. They’re so quiet and calm. Do you think they’re drugged or something?”

The other two guys looked nervous. Even the giant stopped grinning and started craning his neck to examine the balconies above.

On his iPad, Creed could see Nuru’s crew of two enter the pool and training house. He noticed that Nuru had already left them, and he couldn’t help but smile and think silently to himself, Good dog.

“His apartment is supposed to be on the second floor of this place.” The big man pointed his chin at the landing in the middle of the atrium. “Looks like there’s a door.”

Creed watched the two men inside the pool and training house. They both wore red — one a red bandanna and the other a red ball cap. Either they were bold enough to wear red or too stupid to know how well it showed up in the dark. Now in the pool and training house lights he saw how young they looked, even with the black paint smeared on their faces, and he decided “stupid” was probably correct rather than “bold.” Although either one was dangerous when you combined it with semiautomatic weapons.

“No one’s around,” the surfer guy said down below. “Maybe the other guys are having more luck in the house.”

“Oh, he’s here,” the one in the Kevlar vest told them. “Falco said he followed him home. Watched him go from his vehicle into here.”

Creed had noticed the tail, although he had to admit, Falco was good. He wondered if Falco was the one who was waiting at the end of the driveway.

He saw that the red bandanna and the red ball cap had reached the duffel bag he had left on the floor in the middle of the training facility. Just as they came up on either side of it, Creed clicked his remote twice. He didn’t have the sound turned on to hear their screams as the floor opened up and swallowed them.

Deep graves under floorboards were always an excellent training tool for cadaver dogs.

Two more down.

The three in the kennel warehouse were right below Creed now. Two of them started climbing the stairs at opposite sides of the building.

Creed put the whistle to his lips and blew. Only the dogs could hear it. They came out of their kennels and headed for the dog doors. The electronic buzzes startled the men.

“What the hell?”

“They decided to leave.” The Kevlar vest guy thought it was funny and started laughing. “They probably don’t like the way you smell,” he told the giant, and the surfer guy laughed now, too.

That was a better reaction than Creed expected. The dogs’ leaving would actually make their jobs easier.

Last dog out the dog door was Kramer, a Maltese who Creed didn’t use as a scent dog because he was too small, even smaller than Grace. He was one of those heartstring dogs that Penelope Clemence had talked Creed into saving. Andy had trained Kramer to do a number of tricks, and before the dog left the warehouse, Creed gave two short blows and one long blow on the whistle. Kramer leaped up and tapped a small box about three feet off the ground.

“What did that dog just do?” The giant noticed and swung the rifle off his shoulder.

On the other side of the warehouse, the garage door they had come through started to close, and all three men jerked their heads in that direction as Kramer scurried through the dog door.

“Did that dog just close the door?” It was the surfer guy.

All three men came back toward the door, eyes and guns darting across the warehouse. Yet none of them retreated or even tried to stop the door.

As soon as Creed was certain that all the dogs were gone, and when he heard the door hit the floor, he put on the contraption that had been hanging from his neck. Then he used his remote once again. Two clicks and the sprinklers in the ceiling burst open.

“What the hell.”

Creed watched the clock on his cell phone. It would take several seconds for the men to realize it wasn’t water being sprayed down. He poked up from his hiding spot to sneak a peek at them down below. The giant saw him and raised his rifle. Creed had to duck as bullets ricocheted. They dinged off the metal railings on the balcony. Something ripped open Creed’s cheek under his right eye. More bullets slammed into the metal bin as Creed belly-crawled back to his hiding place.

Okay, too soon. That was stupid. And he squeezed himself against the wall behind the bin.

“Stop, Adam. We’re not supposed to kill him.”

“Damn it! What… the hell is this… stuff.”

Creed could hear the Kevlar vest guy struggling to get the words out. He stayed tucked away and watched the clock. His gas mask protected him. The other men should be knocked out in less than a minute. But he hadn’t calculated someone as big as the giant. Adam, the giant, would probably take longer.

And that’s when Creed heard someone coming up the steps.