“So, what now? We’ve got six identical dog photos without another lead besides Audra.” Diggs didn’t even know her lastname.
But he could findout.
“Hold on, I’m going to run her photo through the NSAdatabase.”
Diggs pushed his chair to the left, rolling to another monitor as he quickly hacked into the NSA’s database, a feat that was much easier than it should’ve been, and loaded up Audra’s picture. It was going to take a few minutes minimum, but while he waited on that process he could at least take a look at each dog’s individual profile and see if he could figure anything elseout.
“Yo, Diggs, I’m throwing in this dart gun just in case we need to train the dog.” King tossed the lightweight air assault rifle into the duffel. “If he is tied to her, he might not like it if we have to force her back to thecompound.”
Diggs wanted to tell King a dart gun was completely unnecessary, but he couldn’t. As much as the thought of tranking that dog turned his stomach, it might be safer to have him unconscious if things got a little rowdy. “Goodcall.”
Diggs double clicked on the first dog’s image, pulling up his file. A photo of a Shepherd next to a large, bald, black man, Sgt. Shane George Washington, from Dallas,Texas.
Juarez leaned low over his shoulder. “I don’t think that’s the one you need to worryabout.”
Diggs clicked on the next dog’s profile, this one pulling up a handler with a shock of red hair and freckles, not the same shade as Audra’s but still a lot closer than the last handler had been. Raleigh, NorthCarolina.
His gaze slid from the handler to the dog, who sat on its haunches, tongue hanging out for the photo. “This is a viable option.” But something about the dog just didn’t seem familiar, no matter how much the handler resembled Audra. Diggs shoved over to the NSA’s site, which was still running through multiple faces. He came back to the canine unit. “If her photo doesn’t pull any info, we might have to splitup.”
“Keep looking, you’ll find the answer.” Juarez pulled a chair up next to him, crowding into Diggs’ personalspace.
“And what are you supposed to be doing?” Diggs askedirritably.
“Helping you, what else?” Juarez leaned forward, grinning, knowing how much it got on Diggs’ nerve to have him looking over his shoulder the wholetime.
But he didn’t have time to start an argument with Juarez, so he clicked on the third dog’s profile, this one pulling up a very tall athletic looking soldier with sandy blond hair and light green eyes. Jeremy Wade, hometown, Raleigh, NorthCarolina.
Diggs’ gaze slid down to the dog sitting next to his handler’s feet, his head lifted as high as his owner’s, and his instincts fired off one giant blast. “That’shim.”
“How can you tell that?” Juarezasked.
“I just can.” Diggs leaned in, pulling up the dog’s military historyfirst.
Juarez let out a lowwhistle.
Hicks pulled up closer, pointing at each bullet point as he read. “Damn dog has got more medals than me. Last awarded was Meritorious Service, Bronze Star, and Purple Heart. Injured in action on October 21, medical discharge. Current location—with Jeremy’sfather.”
Stunned, Diggs pushed back from the table, scrubbing his hands down his face. Please, don’t let that fucking asshole who had been beating the dog be Audra’sfather.
No wonder Audra had been so damn upset. Military men and their canines were notoriously close, some even said they were closer to the dogs than to their actual human teammates. If Jeremy had been killed in action, and the dog injured alongside him, he would be the last remaining part of Jeremy that Audra hadleft.
Suddenly, her desperation didn’t seem so out of place, in fact, it made sense. “Explains why she was out here. She was coming to save the dog from theirfather.”
King’s knuckles popped loudly in the room as he cracked them. “I don’t like assholes who abuseanimals.”
None of them did. Especially animals with an exemplary military record like thisone.
“Brother, check it.” Juarez tapped on Diggs’monitor.
Diggs swatted his hand away with a frown. “Don’t touch thecomputer.”
“My bad.” Juarez forced his hands back and rolled a few inches away. “Check thehandler.”
Scowling, and keeping an eye out on Juarez’s overzealous hands, Diggs returned to the search and pulled up the profile on the handler. First Sgt. Jeremy Wade, killed in action October 21. “Two weeksago.”
The NSA’s database beeped, signaling its search was done. Dread growing in his gut each passing second, Diggs slid over to the other screen, and clicked on Audra’s photo. Within seconds her entire history was laid out on the screen—her date of birth, where she was from, when she’d graduated high school, and a BOLO for her arrest for suspected terroristicactivity.
“Shit.” Diggs blew out a lowbreath.
