Chapter Eleven

Levi

Between Etosha and Metz Vineyard

Enrico pulled off the narrow, paved road into the dirt. “Flat tire,” he said, sliding the gear to park. “The longer you visit, the more you realize how typical that is in Namibia. Like an Irish fisherman sits in front of the fire fixing their nets at night, we sit under the stars repairing the holes in our tires.”

The four men piled out.

“What can I do to give you a hand?” Levi asked as Mojo clambered out the door and immediately put his nose in the air, checking his environment.

“Nada,” Enrico called from the back, where a spare was tethered to the hatch. “After doing this a hundred or so times, I have my system down to a science.” He held up his hand with the fingers splayed wide. “Five minutes tops. You want to time me?”

Levi kept a watchful eye on Mojo to see how he reacted off-leash in the open space.

Yes, Levi's heart knew Mojo was his dog.

But when lives were on the line, Levi’s heart wasn’t enough to make a final decision. The dog Levi picked needed to be mission-ready, on point with his skills, and trainable to hone his behaviors to meet Iniquus’s field protocol. While Mojo’s tactical work and bite were phenomenal, tomorrow, they would test Mojo’s ability to work a scent and effectively communicate with Levi.

Right now, Mojo was facing the mountains. His ears lifted and rotated to capture a sound. His nose wasn’t scenting. Whatever caught Mojo’s attention was far enough off that his sniffer hadn’t found anything interesting to latch on to.

“Yo! Hate to break your flow. Take a look at Mojo.”

“Was that an attempt at rap, brother? Because that was weak sauce.” Enrico leaned the spare against the side of the car.

“It was unfortunate, I’ll give you that.” Levi gestured to Mojo. “Tell me about this posture.”

Mojo stood statue-like, leaning forward.

“Yup,” Reaper said, “he’s on to something.”

“I don’t know.” Enrico’s gaze swept the flat space between them and the hillside. “It could be a wild animal of some kind.” Enrico laughed. “At least we know it’s not a rhino. If it were a rhino, Mojo would be going ballistic, trying to herd us to safety and fight the monsters at the same time. It isn’t pretty.”

Levi had focused on Mojo’s coat. This was the second time he flinched three times. It was as if in a precise pattern and not a random muscle twitch. It was curious. Levi had never seen a dog do that before.

Mojo turned to Enrico with a whine and stomp of his foot that was clearly asking Enrico to take some action. “You will pay attention,” it said. Then Mojo’s focus swept back to the hillside.

Enrico must have thought this was odd behavior, too, because he put his hands on his hips and pulled his brow together, watching Mojo carefully. “Looking up to catch Levi’s gaze, he said, “Let’s see what happens. Mojo, show me.”

Mojo looked indecisive—as if loathe to move off his X. Suddenly, he lurched around and raced over to Enrico, lifted up on his hind legs, and bit the air twice right near Enrico’s hip. Then Mojo circled around to sit in front of Enrico, waiting for his next command.

Levi read Mojo’s look as, “Did you understand?”

Enrico was scrubbing the scruff on Mojo’s neck. “Got it, buddy. I’ll take a look.”

As Enrico grabbed a go bag from the cargo area, Reaper asked. “You usually hang a bringsel on your waist when you’re working a search and rescue mission?”

“Exactly.” Enrico pulled a pair of military-grade binoculars from his bag. “Mojo prefers to use his mini-Kong instead of those pillow types of indicators. I don’t mind as long as he gets the job done. I hang the toy from my belt on my left. After he makes the find, he comes back to me to report in by biting the Kong, then sitting. It’s exactly the lost-person skill sequence that you just watched.” Enrico lifted the binoculars and scanned the ridge. “I don’t see anything right off. If you want to grab your lenses, boys, we can set up a search grid.”

Mojo moved back to the exact spot he’d abandoned. His skin twitched three times in succession. And like before, he whined and stomped.

“On it, Mojo,” Enrico said. “Give me a second. Sit. Wait.”

Mojo reluctantly tucked his back legs under him as he sat, but his focus never wavered.

Binoculars in hand, Levi took a knee so close to Mojo that Mojo’s side pressed into Levi’s thigh. “What have you got there, boy?” Mojo’s skin twitched in succession. “I’d swear Mojo’s hearing something in groups of three,” Levi called out.

“Distress call?” Goose had his binoculars trained on the rocky hillside. “Lots of places to get hurt. Lots of boulders that would block our view.”

Levi ducked so that he could line up the angle of his lenses with Mojo’s focal direction. Slowing his breath, stilling his movements, Levi chose a landmark in about the right spot. Drawing a circle, Levi cleared the center. Each time his binoculars reached the twelve o’clock position, he adjusted the circle to be a bit larger. Working this circular grid was often an efficient search pattern once you locked onto a clue. Levi thought he’d never seen such a relevant signal that someone was in distress than what Mojo had performed.

“Anyone?” Reaper asked.

Mojo’s skin rippled.

“According to Mojo’s nervous system, there are three indicators of some kind—I’d guess whistle blast. Enrico?”

“That’s what I’m seeing.”

“They’re imprecise but consistently around thirty seconds apart,” Levi observed.

“Okay, then,” Enrico hung his binoculars from the cord on his neck, “it looks like we’re mounting a search party. As we discussed during training today, radio signals in the hills are hit or miss because of boulders and line of sight. Mostly miss. I think we have to assume one or possibly multiple people are injured and incapable of getting down.”

“Is that part of the winery?” Goose asked.

“I don’t know their boundaries.” Enrico scooped his backpack onto his shoulders.

“Enrico, you know the terrain and how to track with Mojo,” Reaper said. “Goose, if there’s an injury, you’re the best man amongst us. Take your vet pack with you. Levi, I want you to observe Mojo. I’ll stay back and change the tire, then drive over to you.”

It was as if Mojo was holding himself back, waiting for the command. He wanted to leap into action. Once Enrico set him in motion, he rocketed over the open space.

The men picked up a steady cadence as they jogged in the direction that Mojo had streaked.

“I’ve lost sight of him,” Goose said. “He’s camouflaged against the colors of the terrain.”

“We just keep going in the same general direction. Mojo knows when he’s getting too far ahead,” Enrico said. “He’ll circle back and check on us if we lag behind on our wimpy human legs.”

“Ah, yes. Wimpy human legs,” Goose laughed, “but we make up for that with our opposable thumbs. How else would they get the lid off their dog food?”

Levi tapped his ear. “There it is. Three whistles.” He pulled his whistle from his strap and sent back three blasts. We hear you. We’re coming.

Enrico lowered his binoculars and pointed. “There’s a pickup parked in that shadow.”

Mojo had run back to check on them, just like Enrico said he’d do. When the whistle sounded again, the men stopped in their tracks.

No sense in running up in the wrong direction. With the sound riding the wind as it slid down the hillside, finding the source would be tricky.

Mojo’s gaze fixed on a spot. And that’s where Levi trained his binoculars. “There’s a woman on the ridge line waving her arms,” he called out, blading his hand in the right direction.

Enrico followed the line with his lenses and said, “That’s Gwen Metz, the owners’ daughter.”

Levi blew three more times. Then he watched as she lowered herself out of sight. Who knew how long she’d been signaling? The effort probably exhausted her energy stores.

The men were in motion, trailing Mojo.

Levi assessed what might have happened to Gwen up there. His first thought was a twisted ankle. “Goose, do you have a portable stretcher in your vet kit?”

“I do, but it’s K9 sized. It’s not going to help with the length of an adult woman.” He tapped his backpack with its K9 first aid patch. “This is just a stabilization pack. If she’s severely injured, we’re going to need more help. Do you think she’s up there on her own?”

“Trailhead,” Levi pointed.

“Looks like Gwen went for a hike,” Enrico said, “and her day took a turn.”

Reaper roared to a stop beside them and climbed out. “Anything?”

“A whistle signal led us to locate Gwen Metz on the ridgeline.” Enrico pointed. “Gwen is Iris and Craig’s daughter.”

“Is she solo?” Reaper asked.

“We visualized one,” Levi clarified.

“How are we doing this?” Goose dropped his heavy pack to the ground.

“Radio is line of sight only. Connectivity is sketchy at best in the hills,” Enrico explained. “We can try it, but we need a backup plan. Someone needs to hang back to communicate the situation.”

“All right,” Reaper said. “That’ll be me. Let’s start with a whistle signal. If there’s no time pressure to deal with the situation, we can try the radio or send someone down with the specifics. I’ll listen for a whistle blast and repeat back what I heard. We’ll go through the process three times to make sure the understanding is clear. One blast means the team can handle the situation on their own. Two blasts escalate the situation, and more help is needed. Three blasts are an all-hands-on-deck emergency, and I’m pulling in a rescue team.”

“Copy,” the men said in unison.

Goose moved off to look in the pickup truck.

“That’s the plan,” Reaper turned to Enrico. “Where would I go for help if it’s three blasts?”

“Give me your phone.” Enrico stretched out his hand. “I’ll put in the emergency numbers. It's for the same team that we worked with today in Etosha.” He tapped out the information as he spoke. “If it’s a three-blast emergency, they know what equipment to bring. They’ll come. Meanwhile, one of us can run the trail to give more information.”

“Keys in the ignition,” Goose called as he headed back. “Do you need a scent source?”

“Nah,” Enrico called back. “Not if we can’t be sure that the source belongs to Gwen. That can just confuse the situation.”

“Good that we have access to a second vehicle,” Reaper said as he accepted his phone and glanced at the information. “If someone comes down the mountain and I haven’t gotten back yet, take the pickup to the vineyard where we can use cell phones. We can set up a command center there if need be.”

Levi tipped his head back, taking in the trailhead, and followed it to the ridge. “A thirty-minute run?”

“That’s my estimation,” Enrico said. “But we’re going to be burning energy doing it. That’s not an easy climb.”

“Challenge accepted,” Levi said, tightening his shoulder straps and pulling the sternal and hip straps into place.

“Since it’s thirty minutes up,” Reaper set a timer on his watch. “I’ll take the vehicle back to the vineyard and grab our team's equipment and something that could be used as a backboard or rescue basket. I’ll be back to hear the whistle signal.” Reaper headed out.

“Closest hospital is Tsumeb?” Goose bent to retie his laces and get his equipment adjusted for the run. By far, he carried the heaviest day pack.

“It’s an hour away.” Enrico whistled to recall Mojo. “Everyone’s wearing boots, that’s good. But just so you know, the oddity of our weather in recent days has been affecting our snake population. Snakes are shy creatures. In a normal year, we don’t see any snakes at all. But just in the last few days, over a dozen sightings have been reported by our rangers working in this area.”

Mojo ran full tilt toward Enrico, coming to an abrupt seated stop. Tongue long, excited for this new game they were playing today, Mojo waited for his next command.

“Any words of advice?” Goose asked.

“Yeah,” Enrico said, “stay directly behind Mojo.” Enrico looked down at Mojo and commanded, “Mojo, search for the human, hunt for snakes.”

Mojo’s nose went up in the air. After a moment, he crouched until his nose was a hovercraft, sucking in and processing scent as he moved swiftly and purposefully up the rocky slope.

“Let’s give him a minute to settle into that search. It’s a complicated scent puzzle.”

“He performs the two tasks at once?” Levi asked.

“It’s imperative that our K9s have that skill. The dogs need to focus on their primary task, in this case, finding a human. But they must also be situationally aware. If they’re doing a great job following a trail, but they get kicked in the head by a mountain zebra, it’s a lose-lose situation.” Enrico kept his gaze on Mojo’s progress. “When it comes to wildlife scents, they have to process two directives at once. This snake tracking is one that we practice consistently, simply because this is Namibia, home of eighty different snakes, eleven species that are potentially deadly to humans. More than that can kill a dog. Anytime we’re out walking an uncleared area, we couple the directives no matter the season because that skillset is imperative to the safety of our ranger teams.”

“For example, they’d clear a campsite before the rangers bedded down?” Goose asked.

“Exactly, but unlike when Levi and I were over in the sandbox clearing for insurgents and explosives, the animals of Namibia are dynamic. What was clear at the beginning is not clear a moment later. And we train for snakes not the other crawlies that are here, spiders, scorpions.”

“Scorpions, they’re a treat,” Levi said. “He’s stopped. Did Mojo find something?”

“If it were a human, he’d run back. If it were a snake, he’d signal with a sharp bark. Then he stands very still, trying not to agitate the snake. Let’s start walking up. We can pick up the pace when Mojo gets moving. He clears pretty fast.”

“Anything else up here we need to be worried about?” Goose asked as he fell in line behind the other two.

“Baboons can mind their own business, or not. And there’s always the chance we’ll come across a black rhino. Some of the rangers have seen them in this area.”

Levi was scanning the ground, figuring out what hazards to keep an eye for once they started the run. “Rangers are outside the park, and the police and military guard Etosha?”

“That’s right.”

“What’s their emotional state with the culling that’s going on?” Goose asked.

“They’re hungry, to be honest. Their food supplies have been cut. Except for the tourists, everyone’s food supplies have been cut. I have the good fortune to supplement my wages with my savings. I can afford to go into the city centers and buy imported Western food. That isn’t true for the men and women who work for the Namibian government. Most people have pinched bellies, much like the people we worked beside in the sandbox.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Levi said.

“We’re hoping for rain.” Enrico picked up his pace to a jog.

“And that’s coming soon?” Goose asked.

“Maybe in a few weeks.” Enrico gestured up the hillside. “Here we go.” And he took off, racing up the barely visible trail.

The men fell silent as they concentrated on where to put their feet. The rocks were loose here, and a fall might start them down a very rough slope.

Hearts pumping, sweat dripping, the men rounded a last boulder. Levi saw a lone boot wedged between two rocks.

One woman stood. “Oh, thank goodness!”

Another woman stretched long with her arm thrown over her eyes, lying perfectly still. Mojo sat on the platform next to her, looking pleased with himself with a “Look what I found!” wagging tail.

“What’s going on Gwen?” Enrico slowed his pace.

“A viper bit my friend, Tess. Be careful. There could be more in the area.”

As soon as Gwen said viper , Enrico and Levi stepped aside to let Goose pelt toward the woman lying prone on the platform.

When Goose kneeled beside her, the woman dragged her arm away from her face.

And Levi’s heart stopped.