Trinity: Military War Dog by Ronie Kendig Page B

of hearing how two four-stars hitched a ride with us.”
    General Burnett leaned in.
    In a heartbeat, Trinity read the aggressive move and leapt to all fours. Had her side not pressed against his leg, Heath might’ve missed the low growl of warning that rumbled through her chest.
    Burnett was undeterred as the SEAL aimed his weapon at Trinity.
    “Hey!” Heath shouted, throwing his hand into the line of fire. “Trinity, out!”
    “Unless you want a personal escort to a detainment cell, Mr. Daniels,” the general said with his own snarl, “I’d suggest you keep this little endeavor to yourself.”
    Heath’s head pounded as he coaxed Trinity down, just as he did his own pulse. Seeing that SEAL take a bead on his partner … He looked to the general. “Understood. Sir.” As he eased back, Trinity once again relaxing on the steel floor, Heath closed his eyes. Focused on calming down.
What was that, Daniels? Getting info is one thing, but getting stupid’s another
.
    In the back of his mind, he wondered if his aggression toward the general wasn’t some reaction to the way the man had treated Jia.
    The generals were making a secret trip. Where? Why? Was Air Force One in the area? Dignitaries meant to bring peace and unity often brought death and destruction—to their own troops with the invisible target painted on their heads.
    Heath settled in, wishing for all he was worth for an M4A1 to level the playing field. The general had a sidearm. And the SEAL an M4, an M16, and a modified handgun.
    Prepared. Armed to the teeth.
What’s going on?
    Whatever drew them out, it was big. And Heath hoped they lived through it.

    Dead stop.
    In the second he heard the driver mumbling about something in the road, Heath went for the weapon he didn’t have. His gaze struck the general, who was in motion, too.
    “Why did we stop?” Burnett demanded.
    “Back up!” Heath shouted at the same time the general spoke. He locked gazes with the steely-eyed general.
    “Not sure, sir. Something about a roadblock.”
    “Back up, back up!” The general’s face reddened. “Get us out—”
    The vehicle lurched. Shoved Heath out of his seat. Into Aspen. Her blue eyes went wild as the MRAP dropped down and bounced. He stood and pushed himself back, mind racing.
    “Go, go, go!” Heath shouted to the driver.
    BoooOOOOOooomm!
    Whipped into the air, Heath tensed. His hearing hollowed. His vision went black.
    Coughing, Heath snapped awake. A sweet, metallic taste filled his mouth. He couldn’t breathe. He dropped his head back and coughed again. Again.
    A warbling sound came from his right.
    There, the general knelt, his mouth moving in hollow shouts.
    Heath blinked. Shook his head—and the whole world spun. Man, why couldn’t he breathe? It felt like something was on his chest. He craned his neck—and let out a soft grunt. Stretched across him in a defensive posture, hackles raised, teeth bared, Trinity snapped. Growled—he felt it rumble across his ribs. He rested a hand on her flank and dropped his head back. With another cough, his head cleared. Trinity snapped at the general, who attempted to get closer.
    Aspen’s fair skin was smudged with black. “She won’t let us help.”
    “Trinity, out,” Heath said with another cough.
    She ceased aggression and licked his face.
    “Good girl.” He scooted to the others, throat burning. “What’s happening?” Wiping the grit out of his eyes, Heath tried to get his bearings. By the way things were playing out, he hadn’t been out more than a few minutes. Was it the TBI? Or had he hit his head?
    Aspen swiped a hand across her forehead, smearing black over her pale complexion but looked otherwise unscathed.
    A streak of blood ran down the general’s temple, but it seemed his helmet absorbed most of the impact. “RPGs. Got our driver. Backup’s en route. But we still have a shooter out there. Idiot about took my head off.”
    The MRAP sat on its side, having been divested of passengers.