Sheepdogs: Keeping the Wolves at Bay by Gordon Carroll (tools of titans ebook .TXT) 📗

Alpha, watching the police officers as they knocked at the door. They knocked hard and loud, although Max, with the incredible genetic enhancement of canine hearing, could have easily heard the knocks even if they had knocked lightly, just as he heard their sirens from far off, and just as he was able to hear the engines of their cars as they advanced from opposite ends of the block after they shut off their sirens.

The Alpha had jumped a little as the one car slipped by their window from behind. He’d been surprised. Max had not been surprised. He heard the car several blocks away and monitored its progress as it continued its approach.

How was it, he wondered in the primitive way that his brain reasoned, that the Alpha had been surprised? How could he have not heard them? Max could hear the two police officers as they whispered to each other even now. He could smell them. Wisps of wind dragged traces of their scent to him through the open windows of the car. The fear smell was not on them. But there were other smells — the human smell — leather — cloth — perspiration. One of them wore cologne. He could track either of them if they tried to run. He could catch them. Destroy them.

Max switched his attention to the Alpha. He sat in front of Max, the back of his neck exposed and vulnerable.

Max thought back to earlier when he stood over the Alpha, looking down at him and thinking he could strike, he could kill. But then he saw the Alpha was not asleep, that he was staring at him. Unafraid. Just as he was unafraid now, sitting with his back fully open to attack. Max often would sit with his back to Pilgrim, unafraid, because Max had no fear of the larger dog. If Pilgrim tried to attack him he would fail and Max would make him pay the price.

Was that how the Alpha felt about him? The idea made Max bristle. Something deep in Max, the drive to rise in the pecking order of the pack, drove him to accept nothing less than absolute control. But at the same time the thought that the Alpha regarded him to be no more a threat to his authority or safety than Max himself did for Pilgrim, worked on the spark of fear that had been smoldering in his heart since their first meeting.

Focusing again on the Alpha’s neck, Max wondered if it would really be possible for him to defend himself if he attempted a strike. Max knew that he himself would never be fast enough to stop such an attack were he to be so foolish as to leave himself this open; this close. Even though Max had no fear of Pilgrim he still wouldn’t leave himself this vulnerable, this completely defenseless. Was it courage and absolute confidence on the Alpha’s part, or simple foolishness?

Max leaned closer.

The door of the house suddenly opened, grabbing Max’s attention. And then there was no time to contemplate the Alpha’s courage.

26

Gil

I watched as the door to the house yanked open. I couldn’t tell who answered but whoever it was must have tried to slam the door closed because I saw the first of the Denver cops step forward fast. He was a big, tall guy with biceps that bulged the short sleeves of his blue uniform. I saw a struggle — I couldn’t really tell what was happening because of the distance and angle — but it didn’t last long. Bulging Biceps literally threw Fat Guy onto the front lawn. He hit and tumbled like a roly-poly bug, only he wasn’t as agile… or as durable. He wobbled to his knees, spitting grass, and fell over onto his side, screaming like he was on fire. What a baby. Bulging Biceps was on him in a snap, shoving his face back into the overgrown grass and planting a heavy knee between his shoulder blades. I heard the wuff as all of Fat Guy’s air left his lungs.

While Bulging Biceps slapped the handcuffs on Fat Guy, another struggle ensued at the front door. The second cop, who was as tall as Biceps, but not nearly as bulging, had his nightstick out in a double handed grip and was going all Mark McGwire against the side of Baldy’s left thigh. Baldy was trying to punch the wannabe McGwire but every time he pulled back for a blow, the cop just made like Joaquin Phoenix in Signs and swung away. After about the fifth hit Baldy went down and stayed down, moaning and holding his leg.

There were more sirens and this time they didn’t shut down until the cars skidded up to the house. About a thousand Denver cops flooded the area… well… maybe not really a thousand, but it looked that way. There were red and blue flashing strobes everywhere.

I sat back, took my last sandwich from the cooler, popped a Dr P and enjoyed the show. After about five minutes Pimples and Short-Shorts were both dragged, handcuffed, from the house and tossed into the back of patrol cars. A few minutes after that Fat Guy and Baldy were loaded up too and they were all taken away.

Bulging Biceps came out with a couple of plastic bags of paraphernalia; crack pipes, pot pipes, pot bongs. The usual druggy stuff.

But no sign of Gauges.

Hmm.

It took under an hour for the last of the cops to clear the scene.

So where did Gauges go? Not out the front, and Denver cleared the house twice, so I didn’t think he was in there. That left the likelihood that he escaped out the back while Biceps and McGwire were busy with Fat Guy and Baldy.

Max and I walked around to the back yard. I platzed him at the bottom of the steps and gave the command.

Zoek.

27

Max

At the command Max rose and began quartering, checking for signs of ground disturbance. He found a spot