Page 37 of Sheltering Instinct

“Nada,” Enrico called from the back, where a spare was tethered to the hatch. “After doing this a hundred or so times, I have my system down to a science.” He held up his hand with the fingers splayed wide. “Five minutes tops. You want to time me?”

Levi kept a watchful eye on Mojo to see how he reacted off-leash in the open space.

Yes, Levi's heart knew Mojo washisdog.

But when lives were on the line, Levi’s heart wasn’t enough to make a final decision. The dog Levi picked needed to be mission-ready, on point with his skills, and trainable to hone his behaviors to meet Iniquus’s field protocol. While Mojo’s tactical work and bite were phenomenal, tomorrow, they would test Mojo’s ability to work a scent and effectively communicate with Levi.

Right now, Mojo was facing the mountains. His ears lifted and rotated to capture a sound. His nose wasn’t scenting. Whatever caught Mojo’s attention was far enough off that his sniffer hadn’t found anything interesting to latch on to.

“Yo! Hate to break your flow. Take a look at Mojo.”

“Was that an attempt at rap, brother? Because that was weak sauce.” Enrico leaned the spare against the side of the car.

“It was unfortunate, I’ll give you that.” Levi gestured to Mojo. “Tell me about this posture.”

Mojo stood statue-like, leaning forward.

“Yup,” Reaper said, “he’s on to something.”

“I don’t know.” Enrico’s gaze swept the flat space between them and the hillside. “It could be a wild animal of some kind.” Enrico laughed. “At least we know it’s not a rhino. If it were a rhino, Mojo would be going ballistic, trying to herd us to safety and fight the monsters at the same time. It isn’t pretty.”

Levi had focused on Mojo’s coat. This was the second time he flinched three times. It was as if in a precise pattern and not a random muscle twitch. It was curious. Levi had never seen a dog do that before.

Mojo turned to Enrico with a whine and stomp of his foot that was clearly asking Enrico to take some action. “You will pay attention,” it said. Then Mojo’s focus swept back to the hillside.

Enrico must have thought this was odd behavior, too, because he put his hands on his hips and pulled his brow together, watching Mojo carefully. “Looking up to catch Levi’s gaze, he said, “Let’s see what happens. Mojo, show me.”

Mojo looked indecisive—as if loathe to move off his X. Suddenly, he lurched around and raced over to Enrico, lifted up on his hind legs, and bit the air twice right near Enrico’s hip. Then Mojo circled around to sit in front of Enrico, waiting for his next command.

Levi read Mojo’s look as, “Did you understand?”

Enrico was scrubbing the scruff on Mojo’s neck. “Got it, buddy. I’ll take a look.”

As Enrico grabbed a go bag from the cargo area, Reaper asked. “You usually hang a bringsel on your waist when you’re working a search and rescue mission?”

“Exactly.” Enrico pulled a pair of military-grade binoculars from his bag. “Mojo prefers to use his mini-Kong instead of those pillow types of indicators. I don’t mind as long as he gets the job done. I hang the toy from my belt on my left. After he makes the find, he comes back to me to report in by biting the Kong, then sitting. It’s exactly the lost-person skill sequence that you just watched.” Enrico lifted the binoculars and scanned the ridge. “I don’t see anything right off. If you want to grab your lenses, boys, we can set up a search grid.”

Mojo moved back to the exact spot he’d abandoned. His skin twitched three times in succession. And like before, he whined and stomped.

“On it, Mojo,” Enrico said. “Give me a second. Sit. Wait.”

Mojo reluctantly tucked his back legs under him as he sat, but his focus never wavered.

Binoculars in hand, Levi took a knee so close to Mojo that Mojo’s side pressed into Levi’s thigh. “What have you got there, boy?” Mojo’s skin twitched in succession. “I’d swear Mojo’s hearing something in groups of three,” Levi called out.

“Distress call?” Goose had his binoculars trained on the rocky hillside. “Lots of places to get hurt. Lots of boulders that would block our view.”

Levi ducked so that he could line up the angle of his lenses with Mojo’s focal direction. Slowing his breath, stilling his movements, Levi chose a landmark in about the right spot. Drawing a circle, Levi cleared the center. Each time his binoculars reached the twelve o’clock position, he adjusted the circle to be a bit larger. Working this circular grid was often an efficient search pattern once you locked onto a clue. Levithought he’d never seen such a relevant signal that someone was in distress than what Mojo had performed.

“Anyone?” Reaper asked.

Mojo’s skin rippled.

“According to Mojo’s nervous system, there are three indicators of some kind—I’d guess whistle blast. Enrico?”

“That’s what I’m seeing.”

“They’re imprecise but consistently around thirty seconds apart,” Levi observed.

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