Page 41 of Surge
“Good boy,” she said. “Now, seek-seek.”
The Malinois swiveled around and homed in on Garrett, who held his breath—another fail?—but the MWD lifted his nose in the air for a moment, then dropped to all fours and started out of the alley. He zigzagged down the street, narrowing the scent cone past more skyscrapers . . . gratefully in the direction Caldwell said Rashid had climbed into the car. Surge stopped at the corner, sniffed, and headed right.
“This is where Rashid turned left,” Rogue admitted. “But he’s certain.”
“Hope he’s right. Maybe they deliberately headed away from the stash,” Garrett mumbled.
She nodded, and they followed the dog as he worked the scent. On the long leash ahead of them, Surge turned down a short set of concrete stairs that led into the basement of a building and scratched at the door at the bottom.
“Hold up, boy,” Rogue said, following him. “Boss, he wants in. What do you want to do?”
Garrett saw a small engraved sign above the door. “Caldwell, can you translate for me?” He read aloud the Malay sign, spelled it while the spook entered it into his computer.
“Shoemakers Extraordinaire,” Caldwell reported.
Shoes? Huh. “Thanks.” He walked down to the door and tested the doorknob. Locked.
“I got it.” Zim worked a lockpick and the door swung open.
Garrett pulled out his Sig and did a quick look-see into the long hall lit by the occasional light. “Send the dog.”
Surge spurted inside, making quick work of reaching the end with no diversions right or left. No windows. Garrett advanced behind the dog team, verifying the area was clear.
Surge stopped and sniffed at a door room labeled “Janitorial,” then continued on to the next door . . . but nothing.
“Has he lost it?” Zim asked from behind.
“No,” Rogue said quietly, “he just hasn’t found it yet.”
Garrett worked his jaw.
Surge trotted down the hall, then skidded to a stop and circled back. He scratched at a door. Whimpered and downed, ears and eyes trained on the door.
After visually tracing the jamb for sign of explosives or trip wires, Garrett tested the door. Locked. “Zim.”
“On it.” The guy worked his magic, then backed up, bringing his weapon to the ready.
Garrett flicked open the door and verified no unfriendlies in sight. “Send him,” he instructed Delaney, who moved into the room with her four-legged partner.
Trailing them with Zim, Garrett eyed the boxes for labels.
Surge began barking.
A crash sounded amid a shout.
He doubled back and found Zim on the floor, grappling against a blond man for control of a handgun. Garrett kicked the man’s arm, and the gun spun across the floor. The man scrambled for the gun.
Garrett snapped his weapon at him. “Sto?—”
A blow pummeled his shoulders. Felt like steel or something. The impact thrust him forward, but he staggered up and around just in time to see a bald Asian man coming at him again with a pipe.
The blond smashed Zim up against the wall.
Crack!
The report of the weapon startled Garrett, and he wondered who’d shot. The blond tipped into Zim, going limp.
Baldie swung at Garrett, yanking him back to his own life-or-death fight. He dodged the pipe, coming up with a hard knife hand—but Baldie tackled him. Garrett’s head bounced, giving his attacker the split second necessary to get him in a choke hold. The grip proved lethal, and Garrett struggled to free himself.