“Or let’s say you’re working a close protection assignment,” Honey said. “You use the bathroom when your client uses the bathroom. Your K9 does, too, on command. You can’t ask your client to go outside for a dog’s bathroom breaks, especially in poor weather or dangerous surroundings. And you certainly can’t leave your client’s side to care for your dog.”

  “I get it.” It was genius, actually.

  “Max will stay here with Reaper,” Honey repeated. “We’re putting you on a plane to Helsinki. Once I give you this bag, you’ll head to men’s barracks, grab what you need—passport etcetera. Plan to be there for a week. A car will take you straight from here to the airport. Last minute, but our team member, Margot, tested positive for COVID-19 and is sequestered until she’s clear and feeling a hundred percent capable of serving in her security role. She was one of a two-person team on Mrs. Sutton’s Finland security team.” Honey rapped his knuckle onto the surface of the table. “Now, a male guarding a civilian female takes some finesse. You have to keep her safe while navigating her environment. This often means she goes into women-only areas—again, bathrooms. Max will eventually be trained to accompany a female into the bathroom with a two-way radio collar, but that’s not the situation now.”

  “I’ve been on security detail for various female elected officials,” Halo said. “I’m comfortable with the assignment.” What Halo wasn’t comfortable with was leaving Max behind. From the time he and Max decided to be partners, Halo was never gone from him for more than a few hours.

  Found by the side of the road and turned in to the authorities, Max had just arrived at the no-kill shelter where Halo was accompanying a friend, picking up the litter of kittens she was fostering.

  When Halo walked by, Max uncurled from the back of his crate, stood, and locked eyes on him.

  They’d stared at each other for a long moment, sizing each other up—Max, a four-month-old big-pawed, gangly-legged, flea-bitten, under-fed Malinois, and Halo an oversized Australian Commando in his last year of service to his government. “If we’re doing this, mate. We’re doing it. We’re going all in, both of us, yeah? You up for the challenge?”

  Max held eye contact without a waver—not aggression but a connection.

  “Teammates?” Halo asked.

  Max bowed low, his tail sweeping through the air, his gaze still locked on Halo’s as if he thought that should he blink or look away, even for a moment, his opportunity would pass him by.

  The attendant approached, and Halo pointed his finger at the cage. “That’s my dog. Let’s get the paperwork together so I can take him home.”

  The woman walked up and unlocked the door. “You don’t want to spend some time with him first? Make sure it’s a good match? This little guy is going to grow up to be a powerhouse.”

  “We’ve already got it figured out between us.” Halo hadn’t had thought one of getting a dog that day, but when the cage door swung open, Max leaped the four feet right into Halo’s arms and bloody well straight into his heart.

  It was going to feel odd to him, but both Max and he would be focused on learning new things and focused on the job in front of them.

  Honey pulled the go bag closer. “Reaper uses a dog-to-dog mentor program. He’ll line all the K9s up to use the toilet and let Max watch. The hardest thing is teaching the dogs to balance on the slick surface and managing the different flushing toggles. If Max is catching on, I’ll bring him over to Estonia with me so you can assess the use of K9s in Estonia. It’s not part of our plan to use them next month for the meeting, but it’s important that you can work through the planning stages with the tactical teams so everyone is working toward best outcomes.”

  “Agreed. Go back to the toggles. Because the dogs flush, too?”

  “And put the seat down.” Honey unzipped the bag and drew out a shirt and a handheld apparatus that was similar to a cell phone. “You’ll arrive in Helsinki tonight and get yourself to the hotel. Thorn will get you up to speed. You’ll get some sleep. In the morning, it will be your watch. You have a day in an office setting with meetings, and then you will escort Mrs. Sutton on the ferry from Helsinki across the Baltic to Tallinn, Estonia, to connect with her husband and take them to the airport.”

  “All right.”

  “It’s about a two-hour ride. Very comfortable ride. No problems with seasickness. Thorn will drill down on the danger assessment with you once you arrive. Right now, we’re watching the area closely. There was sabotage to a gas pipeline that ran between Finland and Estonia. And yesterday, there was an interruption to the communications cable.”

  “Was it in the news?” Halo asked. Somehow, he’d missed that.

  “Maybe on page fourteen,” Nutsbe said.

  Halo swung his attention to Nutsbe. “Estonia boarders Russia near St. Petersburg. Do they think Russia is saber rattling with another neighbor?”

  “Estonia is part of the EU. So we hope not. In this case, area investigators think this was a Chinese attack.”

  “I’m sorry?” Halo’s brows drew together as he leaned forward. “The Chinese in the Baltic Sea?”

  “The Finnish Navy retrieved a six-ton anchor from the area. There are indications on both the pipeline and the cable that there was contact. The gas line showed immediate signs of damage. The damage to the communication cable took longer to show the effects. It wasn’t a total cable break. It was a tear.”

  “Purposeful?” Halo asked.

  “Debatable,” Honey answered. “The Finish Navy noticed that the Chinese vessel was moving in the area without a visible anchor, which is against regulations. When confronted, the Chinese said they were unaware of the missing anchor.”

  “Improbable,” Halo’s brows knitted.

  “Agreed,” Honey said. “And that the Chinese didn’t think the found anchor was theirs.”

  “Easily proved,” Halo said.

  “And yet, a diplomatic nightmare,” Nutsbe called over his shoulder as he wheeled back to his desk. “Especially as Finland is newly onboard with NATO.”

  “Since the picture is unclear,” Honey said, “we need to ensure our client is safe and comfortable on her passage from Helsinki to Tallinn.” He unfolded the shirt and lay it flat on the table. “A few months ago, Cerberus Bravo was in the Caribbean for a training mission at the Iniquus Southern Campus when Dominica lost communications just before the eye of the Cat 5 storm went over the island, complicating rescue. That was an anchor incident, too, but it was a wayward anchor from a yacht and not in any way nefarious. This is different. We know that as the Russian war against Ukraine continues, Russia has reached out to China for bolstering. That a Chinese vessel was operating in the Baltic Sea with mal intent while their navy is also acting provocatively near the Philippines is of global concern.”

  “Why Estonia, though? Or are they just being pissy over Finland?”

  “Estonia is the Silicon Valley of Europe,” Nutsbe said as he rocked his chair into position behind his desk. “Sorry to be over here, but I’m monitoring operators in the field.”

  Halo lifted a hand, “No worries, mate.”

  “So Estonia,” Nutsbe continued. “They have more ‘unicorns’ there than anywhere else in Europe and, per capita, the most startups. Our clients want to have their foot in that door, accessing the creativity and technology that is available there at a reasonable price compared to other tech markets.”

  “It’s a very safe city,” Honey said. “However, with the Russian border only about a hundred miles from their capital city, a city where a third of the Estonian population lives, we have to keep an awareness of the geopolitical landscape and have exit strategies planned.”

  Honey tapped the gunmetal grey compression shirt with the tip of his finger. “This shirt is an important piece of your security and safety apparatus. DARPA—the United States’ national defense research arm—often asks Iniquus to try out their prototypes and give feedback. Less red tape than going through our military.”

  Halo looked at the shirt and couldn’t see anything outstanding about it.

  “This doesn’t get laundered. It’s too high-tech. Just put it back in the bag and bring it home. Iniquus will replace it with clean versions when you need them for missions. While you float between the tactical teams, getting to know us and how we operate in the field, we want you to practice with the shirt. First, you should understand that they are wired for biofeedback.” Honey turned to point to Nutsbe at his computer. “That data gets sent automatically from your shirt via satellite to Nutsbe.”

  Halo leaned forward and rubbed the fabric between his fingers. “This shirt communicates through a satellite feed?”

  “While you’re in the field, Nutsbe will be able to keep track of your heart rate, respiration, and body temperature and monitor your hydration levels. This means that as you drop below an optimal level of water consumption, you’ll hear Nutsbe in your ear, encouraging you to drink.” Honey stopped to grin. “We called him Mom before all this started. Now, we’re thinking of getting him tattooed with the name.”

  “My hydration levels?” Halo pulled the shirt closer and smoothed his hand over the surface. He felt nothing there until he reached the sleeves. There, he felt a slight quilting between layers of smooth fabric.

  “So far,” Nutsbe said, “This prototype works well in the field. This is a second generation. What you’re feeling as you run your hand over that sleeve is a directional system. The researchers have added a GPS compression unit to provide real-time directions.”

  Halo looked up to catch Honey’s eye, hoping for an explanation for what that could mean.

  “There are compressors in the arm. You or Nutsbe will enter your destination information into the computer.” He pushed the phone-like apparatus toward Halo. “Then, as you move along, when you are to turn right, you will feel your forearm squeezed on the right. Same on the left. You turn in the direction of the squeeze. A gentle squeeze means to veer in that direction to get on course. A hard squeeze means to take a ninety degree.”

  “Yeah?”

  “We’ve been working with them, and it takes a bit of getting used to. If you’re in line with your target destination, you will feel nothing. That, in itself, can feel disorienting because you aren’t sure if it’s stopped working.”

  “So far,” Nutsbe said, “it hasn’t suddenly stopped functioning on any of us. It’s constructed for destructive environments if you will.”

  “So I’d never need to pull out a map or equipment?” Halo asked. “I can see that being really useful, especially when the lighting conditions are suboptimal, or my hands are full like they were the day we were coming down the mountain with Mrs. Haze.”

  “Exactly, the AI mapping could also have directed you down the easiest elevations. We’ve used them in some tight spots when having a minor distraction is dangerous. Night engagement with the enemy, or, in the case of close protection when things are feeling tense, and eyes are on a swivel.” Honey slid the shirt to the side, then pulled the electronic unit in its shockproof case in front of them. “This is your portable unit. Your shirt, with the vitals and GPS, are best run through the TOC.” He used the acronym for tactical operations center, pronounced “talk.” “But let’s say you were in an area without satellite coverage, be it weather or another interruption. The maps are all loaded into the computer in advance. The AI works on radio waves. It knows where you are and can continue to direct you. It’ll also feed the information to your phone as long as your phone is close by, so you can pull up maps to look at them and make decisions.”

  “No visual on the handheld?”

  “No. And that’s by design for security,” Honey explained. “If you and the handheld get separated.”

  “Copy that.”

  “But you’re on your own to remember to hydrate if you go off satellite,” Nutsbe said without looking away from his computer. “That won’t be on me.”

  “Noted, thanks.”

  “Thorn will get you up to speed with this once you’re on the ground. But since you’ll be dressing out in it as you head to the airport, I thought I’d give you a heads up about why your arms are getting a hug.”

  “What happens if I don’t want to be directed?”

  “The shirt will always keep track of your vitals,” Honey clarified. “So you wear the shirt while on duty. It will only direct you while a destination is programmed.”

  “I programmed your route from here to Helsinki,” Nutsbe said. “So you can try it out. It will move you through the airports, and once on the ground, it will move you to Thorn. In the air, I have it turned off. That would get unnerving.”

  Chapter Three

  September Third

  Haute Nendaz, Switzerland

  Punching her pillow, then faceplanting into the center, Mary hoped the fluff would stifle her grunts.

  They did not.

  “Can’t sleep?” Deidre asked, her voice wide awake.

  “Craziest thing. I couldn’t sleep on the plane, couldn’t sleep on the train.”

  “I could not sleep here nor there. I could not sleep anywhere.” Deidre singsonged.

  “Exactly. But when we finally got here, and I dragged my butt up to our room, I thought I’d pass out from the exhaustion.”

  “Did you sleep at all?”

  “An hour, maybe. What time is it at home?” She reached for her phone, scrolled to her world clock, and sighed. Her brain didn’t know if it was coming or going. “My skin is dry, my legs are cramping, I can’t sleep. In my mind, I sound like my mom did when she was bitching her way through menopause. And, frankly, I don’t wanna. I’m not ready to add insult to injury.”

  “So said every woman who ever lived. I’m menopausal. You’re just dehydrated. That’s one nurse to another.”

  “Yeah, that, and it’s almost ten p.m. at home. Coming off of two months of night shifts, my body thinks I should have been at work for the last three hours. I’d say I’m sorry I woke you, but obviously, you were trying to be quiet for me, too.”

  Twelve years apart in age, Deidre and she had been fast friends since they’d supported each other through their pregnancies and beyond. Mary’s twins—Kaleb and Kyle—had been raised as a litter of rambunctious puppies along with Deidre’s son, Brady. Their husbands were on the same sub. So she and Deidre co-parented. It kept them sane. And, to Mary, it was better than having a sister. Both her sisters had childhood baggage they dragged into their adult relationships.

  When Kaleb, Kyle, and Brady hit puberty the summer before freshman year of high school, overnight, it seemed, they were suddenly towering over their moms and already eyeing the door.

  Their husbands came home from deployment and the writing was on the wall, the marriages weren’t working. A plan was developed: Once the boys started high school, the wives should get college degrees, learning something that could put food on their own table and a roof over their heads. Since neither man wanted to go back to school for their own degrees, why didn’t the women use the GI benefits? Then, things could come to a natural ending, and everyone could go on their way. The men would try on a different kind of life, and the women would have what they needed to enter the job market and support themselves.

  That discussion had been a shock to Mary, who, up until that summer, had believed in her vows.

  It also seemed exhaustingly inevitable.

  In the end, Mary decided, why not go with a pragmatic plan that moved everyone into position for what happened next?

  And that was what unfolded.

  Deidre and Mary had decided to start nursing school so they could be study buddies, and then they signed on to work in the same Norfolk VA hospital.

  When college graduation came around, and their husbands’ twenty-year commitment was served, their husbands retired from the military and resigned from their marriages.

  Amicable splits for both couples.

  The kids graduated, and just like that, all five of the XY chromosomes were out the door and on to their futures, leaving the two XX chromosomes blinking at the sudden void.

  They knew it was coming. It was still a kick in the gut that left Mary winded.

  The “shift” happened years ago, and Mary still felt like she hadn’t quite mastered standing on wobbly ground as an individual. Too much time building too much muscle memory. She still cooked five times more than she needed. She still woke up with lists of things to check off that no longer needed her attention. She still shoveled food in her face as quickly as she could at meals because surely something would interrupt—spilled milk, a temper tantrum over the spaghetti noodles. Mary had learned to suck up her meal like a vacuum, and now she had to make a conscious effort to breathe between bites.

  Deidre seemed to settle into the new lifestyle with a lot more ease. Maybe it was their age difference that made this easier for her.

  It was the children that were the loss. In her brain, Mary knew this was all good. But every cell in her body told her to protect her offspring. Her ex? Meh. That wasn’t the problem.

  He was a ghost that glided through their halls at certain times of the year.

  Dan wasn’t there for the twin’s birth. He was on the last thirty days of the ninety-day cruise, and the boys hadn’t wanted to stay in for their due date. So she’d brought her neighbor, Deidre, to the hospital to feed her ice chips, mainly because Mary didn’t fit behind her steering wheel no matter how far back she put the driver’s seat. She didn’t think the taxi would let her in with her plastic garbage bag and towel to sit on once her water broke.

  Eighteen, mother of two. That, as it turned out, was the easy part.

  It was all uphill from there.

  But she’d had Deidre to lean on and vice versa. They were “in it to win it” together. It felt good to have someone like that in her life.

  Deidre broke into Mary’s thoughts. “Get yourself some water, take the first shower. My appointment isn’t until three, and we have the rental car. Let me see if I can’t find something fun to do for sunrise. Maybe there’s a tram to the top of the mountain and a breakfast spot with to-die-for breakfast pastries.”