Dog Warrior by Wen Spencer Page A

if Ukiah’s telepathic ability wasn’t that profound, his presence would be like trying to do surgery while someone jiggled his elbow.
    Yet leaving Ukiah locked in the basement seemed dangerous. There was a risk that he’d leave or call out or be found—none of which would be good.
    Ru guessed the reason for his silence. “We could lock him back in the Jaguar’s trunk.”
    â€œDon’t tempt me,” Atticus snapped. “But, he could easily wake up and cause a problem.”
    â€œWell,” Kyle said, “we could kill him.”
    â€œKyle!”
    â€œHe’d get better.”
    â€œNo, Kyle.”
    â€œWell, I could rig some remote alarms. We’d at least know if any of the doors were opened.”
    â€œEven with the phones down?”
    â€œOh, yeah, I’d link them to a hub that could page my PDA if anything got triggered.”
    â€œWe’re going to be over an hour away,” Ru said. “We might know something went down, but we’re not going to be able to do anything about it.”
    â€œWe can’t take him with us.” Atticus wasn’t going toendanger Ru and Kyle to keep Ukiah safe. “Can you search on ‘Cub’? That’s his street name.”
    Kyle shook his head after several minutes of searching. “No, nothing is coming up under that name. Did you get a last name out of him?”
    â€œNo, the Iron Horses showed up before we had a chance to ask. He did make a call on Ru’s phone.”
    â€œAh, tricky.” Kyle typed on his keyboard to cue up the recorded conversation.
    The number had a 412 area code. Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. It rang seven times before being picked up, and a sleepy male voice grunted into the phone. “Hmm?”
    â€œIt’s me,” Ukiah said with all confidence his voice would be recognized. And it was.
    â€œUkiah! Oh, thank God.”
    â€œI’ve got a broken arm, broken ribs. I’ve been shot about five times. I’ve got a dozen mice on my hands . . . and I’m at the ocean. What the hell happened?”
    Who had Ukiah called? Rennie Shaw?
    â€œThe cult nailed you yesterday evening. The police called early this morning; they found your jacket on the Mass Pike but there was no sign of you. We’ve been worried sick that the cult torched your body. Are you still with them, or are you safe someplace?”
    â€œI think I’m safe. I got yanked out of the trunk, dead, by . . .” There was some mysterious grunting on the other end of the line. “Max?”
    No, not Shaw . Atticus leaned over Kyle’s shoulder, substituted “Max” for “Cub” and hit return.
    â€œOh, I’m just trying to get my PDA,” the mysterious Max said. “It’s—damn it—I hate hospitals. There! Give me the number you’re at.”
    Ukiah read off Ru’s number. “Is everyone else okay?”
    A woman’s voice, distant but growing closer said, “Hi, I’m Deb, your physical therapist. I need to clear you on crutches before you can be discharged.”
    â€œUmmm, I’ll talk to you later about that. My physical therapist is here.” Obviously this Max didn’t want to discuss murder and mayhem in front of hospital personnel.
    â€œMax, was anyone hurt?”
    â€œDon’t worry, kid. They took you down in Ohio with the Dogs.”
    â€œIf you want to be released today,” Deb said impatiently, “you’re going to have to get off the phone.”
    â€œHang tight, kid. And be careful. You’re too vulnerable right now to believe anything that anyone tells you. These loons specialize at getting people to trust them. If you were”—a pause as the word “dead” was caught before being said aloud—“if you’ve got that many mice, your ‘rescue’ might not be what it seems. I’ll call you back as soon as I’m done