Chapter Three
Anika —
It started small.
They always did.
A voicemail on her backup line — the one reserved for vetted referrals and private clients. The voice was smooth, professional. No name. Just a polished request:
“You came recommended through a mutual contact. I'm looking for private training for a working dog. Discreet. No social.”
It wasn’t the words that set her off.
It was the tone.
Too careful. Too neutral. Like a man who’d ordered blood before breakfast.
She deleted it.
By midday, she was in the old barn sorting through scent kits and decoy sleeves when the second red flag appeared:
One of the old kennels — one not used much these days — was unlatched. Not fully open. Not forced. Just slightly… wrong.
A detail no one else would notice. But her hands had set that latch ten thousand times.
Nyx stiffened beside her, a silent growl rising in her throat.
Ares circled the barn’s perimeter, low and prowling, the muscles in his shoulders twitching as he tracked something she couldn’t yet see.
“Easy,” Anika murmured, eyes scanning the shadows.
She didn’t believe in accidents.
Not here.
Not on her land.
By dusk, she’d swept the entire property twice. Delta and Major had already patrolled the outer fence line. She rotated in India, Zulu, and Ranger for a second circuit — all trained to alert silently if they picked up scent trails out of place.
Nothing.
But her gut still whispered.
That night, back in the house, she pulled up her encrypted client logs and searched the last three months.
And there it was.
A handler she hadn’t worked with in over a year — someone who knew her protocols — had recommended her to someone new.
No call. No courtesy.
Just passed her name along like she was open for business.
He knew better.
And when she dialed his number?
No answer.
Nikolai —
“His name’s Elias,” Maksim said, sliding a slim dossier across the table. “Thirty-five. Army intel. Stateside work only. Specialty in canine operations and psychological infiltration. Speaks just enough military jargon to blend.”
“He’s clean?” Nikolai asked, though his tone implied there’d better not be any doubt.
“As clean as we can get,” Maksim replied. “No known ties. Paper trail matches the story.”
Nikolai didn’t touch the folder.
He leaned back in the leather chair, swirling the glass of whiskey in his hand, emerald eyes fixed on the photo taped to the top page — a still from the night footage. Anika. Standing in the shadows, her platinum hair glowing silver under the porch light. A rose gold motorcycle behind her. Nyx and Ares flanking her like guardians carved from myth.
“She’ll test him,” Nikolai said.
“She already is.”
“I don’t want pressure,” he warned. “No push. Let her lead. Give her room to be curious.”
Maksim nodded. “We gave him a Malinois. ‘Private estate security team’ cover. Enough bite to be believable.”
“Two weeks max,” Nikolai murmured. “If she twitches wrong, pull him. I want her watched, not cornered.”
“And if she’s not clean?”
Nikolai finally took a drink, slow and measured.
“Then we either recruit her…” His voice darkened. “…or we bury her.”
Anika —
He arrived mid-morning.
Matte black truck. Solid build. A lean male Malinois riding shotgun like it owned the passenger seat. The man wore dark jeans and a black tactical jacket — everything about him sharp and deliberate.
She let him through the gate.
The dogs were already watching.
From her perch on the house porch, she noted movement across the property — Alpha by the west fence. Sierra trotting down from the north barn. Juliette, always a quiet shadow, already trailing behind the garage.
Scout and Victor ran drills in the center field. Their presence casual, but strategic.
Ares didn’t lift his head as she approached the gate.
Nyx did.
Elias stepped out, portfolio in hand, polite smile in place. “Anika Carter, I presume?”
“You’re late,” she said flatly.
“Apologies. Traffic outside Dahlonega—”
“You passed Dahlonega twenty miles back,” she replied without blinking.
He chuckled awkwardly, but she didn’t.
Strike one.
He introduced himself as Elias Black, claimed to work private security for a reclusive family in Tennessee. The Malinois was his personal duty dog, allegedly cleared for high-level threat response.
“I’m looking to refine his control,” he said as the dog responded to commands on the practice field. “He’s structured, but I want more precision under stress.”
Anika watched without emotion, arms folded.
“Too mechanical,” she said. “He’s not thinking. He’s reciting.”
Elias raised a brow. “We like structure where I work.”
“Structure gets people killed if it’s the wrong kind,” she answered, already bored.
Nyx sat silently at her heel, eyes narrowed on the Malinois.
When he followed her into the main barn, she let the conversation flow. Showed him what she wanted him to see. Let him admire the motion-triggered cameras, the scent maze, the patrol schedules scrawled on the whiteboard.
He commented on the setup. “You’re heavily secured.”
“I like quiet,” she replied.
“What happens if someone crosses your line?”
She smiled. Just barely.
“They don’t twice.”
Nikolai — (intercut: surveillance feed)
Maksim stood near the monitor, arms folded. “He’s asking the right questions.”
“She’s giving the wrong answers,” Nikolai said.
“She suspects?”
“She suspects everything.”
He rewound the footage — watched her body language. The distance she kept. The glances she didn’t quite give.
“She’s playing him,” he said. “Letting him think he’s got ground to stand on.”
Anika —
That night, she reviewed the security footage — from the moment Elias arrived to the moment he left.
He lingered.
Not long. Not stupidly. But his eyes tracked her worktable. Her camera rigs. Her dogs.
She smiled to herself.
In the far barn, Romeo, Charlie, and Whiskey had just finished their rotation. She swapped them out for Kilo, Lima, and Tango — the latter of whom had already been alerted to scent anomalies near the supply crates.
She’d left one baited.
An empty decoy crate, tarped and staged like it was hiding something. Inside? Torn leather. Old collars. Nothing useful.
But the crate was watched.
And when he came back?
Because he would.
He’d trip a camera he didn’t even know existed.
Ares thudded onto the couch beside her and stretched out. Nyx circled once, then dropped her massive body with a sigh at Anika’s feet.
She leaned back in her chair and whispered, “Come on then, Elias. Let’s see if you blink.”
