Page 9 of Montana Delta Rescue
Her dreams were full of Tony and his men chasing her. But at least she slept.
* * *
Rock was in Montana,enjoying his new home, though he missed Hercules more than he could have said. Hiking just wasn’t the same without that wonderful dog. Often as he hiked along an untried trail, he wished Herc was with him to explore it.
His phone rang. The number wasn’t one he recognized.
He answered the call anyway. “Hello?”
“Rock, Sergeant Swanson here,” the familiar rough voice growled. “Got some news you’re going to want to hear.”
All attention, Rock answered, “What’s up?”
“Hercules is being discharged. If you want him, now’s the time to make that happen.”
“Want him? Hell, yes, I want him,” Rock said. “What do I need to do?”
“That’s good to hear,” the sergeant said. “You two need each other.”
Sergeant Karl Swanson had always been more about the dogs then the men, but when he saw a man and his dog create a strong bond, he was always in their corner. He wasn’t so much a fan of the red tape they all had to deal with. Sergeant Swanson went on to outline the process Rock would need to go through to bring Hercules home to live with him and ended by saying he’d do anything he could to help that process along.
“What happened? Why is he being discharged? Not that it matters.” Rock immediately said, making sure the sergeant knew he wanted the dog no matter what his condition was. “I want him. And we’ll deal. Whatever it is.”
“You knew he’d been reassigned to a new K9 handler after you got out on a medical.”
This wasn’t uncommon for military working dogs. Dogs worked with many handlers during the course of their military service and with the thousands of dollars the U.S. government spent training them, they would serve many years before being retired. So, the sergeant wasn’t telling Rock anything he didn’t already know.
“Of course,” he said.
“Herc was wounded not long after that,” sergeant Swanson said. “He became gun shy and didn’t like loud noises. But we worked him through it. He was doing fine.”
Rock impatiently waited to hear what had happened to his favorite dog in the world. He started pacing, knowing he wouldn’t like what happened to Herc next.
“But then he had a second injury, and this time he let us know he’d had enough.”
“Was he with the same handler?” Rock had a feeling about this and had to ask.
“After he was wounded the second time, he showed no interest in working with his new handler.”
“What do you think happened?” Rock asked the question, knowing how many years the sergeant had been training dogs. He’d grown up training them as a boy and his family bred dogs. There was no one Rock had met who knew more about dogs than sergeant Swanson.
“My best guess?” Sergeant Swanson paused. “Breach of trust. Though we’ll never know what happened between them. Hercules came back wounded and wouldn’t even look at his handler. He healed physically and all his scars are beneath his fur, so you’d have to look close to see them. He looks great, considering. But he won’t work for anyone, not even for me. He’s ready to come home.”
Rock, who rarely got emotional, was standing holding the phone without moving as tears leaked from his eyes. He swallowed hard and then cleared his throat before he spoke. “Whatever you tell me he needs, I’ll make sure he has it.”
“I know you will, son,” the sergeants voice was now kind. “You two are a symbiotic circle, you need each other. We’re going to reunite the two of you.”
“Thanks, Sarge,” Rock said, the first time he’d ever called Sergeant Swanson that. The man had befriended him after his injury, and they’d kept in touch every so often. Now he was going above and beyond, and the bond felt like family.
“You’re welcome, Rock,” sergeant Swanson said, the warmth in his voice letting Rock know that he might be getting a little emotional, a rare thing for the sergeant. “Happy to help.”
Rock said goodbye, hung up the phone and pumped his fist in the air. “Hot damn! Herc, buddy, you’re coming home!”
The news made him feel so damn happy he felt as if his heart would burst out of his chest. For a man who rarely got emotional, he’d gone from those leaky tears and feeling the pain that a betrayal would have caused in his dog, to feeling elated that they’d soon be reunited. After a few more minutes of celebrating, he immediately started on the first item on the list of things he needed to do to bring Hercules home to live with him.
Rock was a get it done and waste no time kind of man and he was ready to tackle any task needed to bring Herc home. The only thing that mattered to Rock was that Herc would be all right and would be home soon.
Military service aside, Hercules was his dog and Rock was his person.
