Vance crossed his arms, curiosity evident. “How’d you end up doing contract work for a police department?”
I looked over at Donovan for a second before responding. “Citadel does training contracts when the fit is right. And we believe in building relationships with law enforcement since we’re all on the same team.” I shrugged. “Plus, Donovan and I were both K9 handlers in the Army. This is what we know.”
“Both of you?” Reeves looked between us. “Where’s your dog?” he asked Donovan.
Something flickered across Donovan’s face—there and gone so fast most people would’ve missed it. I didn’t miss it.
“Between partners right now,” Donovan said evenly. “My last dog retired before I left the service. Haven’t found the right match yet.”
The answer was true enough. It just wasn’t the whole truth. But that was Donovan’s story to tell, not mine.
The team asked sharp questions throughout the rest of the debrief. Good ones. The kind that showed they understood tactics, that most of them had been in enough real situations to know what mattered.
Vance kept us moving along, pushing back when my explanations got too technical, making me translate for the officers who were less experienced.
Briggson stayed quiet, watching with that flat expression, like he was cataloging everything for later. I ignored him.
“Last thing,” I said as the debrief wound down. “Thebreach team made contact first. Took fire, got pinned down. My team’s job was to flank a second angle, force the suspects to divide their attention.” I tapped the whiteboard. “That only works if both teams are communicating. Radio discipline, clear callouts, constant updates on position and status.”
“Communication.” Vance nodded. “It’s always communication.”
“It’s always communication,” I agreed, glancing once again at Donovan, who had one eyebrow raised before smoothing out his features. “The tactics are the easy part. Talking to each other under fire—that’s what helps make sure everyone goes home to their families.”
The room was quiet for a moment. I could feel them turning it over—running the scenario in their heads, mapping my decisions against their own instincts.
“Same time tomorrow?” Vance asked.
“Zero eight hundred. We’ll run building entries with multiple K9 teams. I want to see how you coordinate when there’s more than one dog in the fight.”
A few groans. A few grins. Martinez called out, “Does that mean I get to die again?”
“If you’re lucky.”
More laughter. The group started to break up, officers collecting their gear, heading for the exits. Vance clapped me on the shoulder as he passed.
“Good session, Garrison. Really good.”
“Thanks for the backup in there.”
He shrugged. “Briggson’s a jackass, doesn’t like change. He’ll come around.”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but I kept it to myself. “See you tomorrow.”
“Looking forward to it.” He headed for the door, already pulling out his phone.
Reeves lingered, crouching to give Jolly a scratch behindthe ears. “He’s really something. How long have you two been together?”
“Seven years. Got him when he was eighteen months old.”
“That’s a lot of years of service for a pup.”
“Yeah.” I watched Jolly lean into Reeves’s hand, tail wagging. “It is.”
Reeves stood, gave me a nod. “See you tomorrow, Garrison.”
Then it was just Donovan and me.
He waited until the door swung shut before speaking. “Briggson’s someone we need to keep an eye on.”
