Courage Under Fire. Sharon Dunn

       ONE

      Rookie K-9 officer Lani Branson took in a deep breath as she pedaled her bike along the trail in the Jamaica Bay Wildlife Refuge. She could hear birds chattering. Water rushed and receded from the shore just over the dunes. The high-rises of New York City, made hazy from the dusky twilight, were visible across the expanse of water.

      She sped up even more.

      Tonight was important. This training exercise was an opportunity to prove herself to the other K-9 officers who waited back at the visitors’ center with the tracking dogs for her to give the go-ahead. Playing the part of a child lost in the refuge so the dogs could practice tracking her was probably a less than desirable duty for the senior officers. As a new recruit to the NYC K-9 Command Unit, she understood the pecking order. If she did a good job tonight, she’d be given more responsibility.

      Though she was in solid shape, her leg muscles strained as she willed herself to pedal even faster. The trail ended. She pushed her bike into a hiding place in the brush and headed toward the tall grass that surrounded the shore. A flock of birds took to the air. Their squawking and flapping of wings filled the gray sky. Her heart beat a little faster. God’s creation never ceased to amaze her.

      She stuttered in her step, squinting to make out details in the early evening light. She wondered what had alarmed the birds. Though people might be around the surrounding area, the rangers had secured this part of the refuge for the training exercise. That didn’t mean someone curious about what the NYPD was up to hadn’t snuck into the area. Could be anything or nothing at all, sometimes birds just decided to fly away.

      She ran through the tall grass that bordered the salt marsh and then toward the open area of the dunes. She needed to get far enough away for it to be a challenge for the dogs to find her.

      As a sense of unease invaded her awareness, she stopped. She had felt on edge for the last few days. A car had tailed her through traffic just this morning and more than once she’d felt the press of a gaze on her only to turn and see no one.

      Reaching up to her shoulder, Lani pressed the button on the radio. “I’m in place.”

      The smooth tenor voice of her supervisor, Chief Noah Jameson, came over the line. “Good, you made it out there in record time.”

      As she hurried steadily toward the tall brush, Lani had an extra bounce in her step. Since her training as a K-9 officer had begun, that was the first compliment Noah had given her. Noah had been appointed the interim chief of the NYC K-9 Command Unit after the untimely death of his brother Jordan—the former chief. A permanent replacement was yet to be named.

      Noah’s voice floated over the radio. “Remember, move like a five-year-old would.”

      “Ten-four.” In fact, Noah always seemed to be quite tight-lipped whenever she was around. He had a great deal on his mind. Jordan had been murdered months ago and the investigation had stalled. All the same, Noah seemed to be extra quiet around her. She took his silence to be disapproval. Maybe like some of the other officers, he didn’t think she was up to the job.

      Lani was a natural athlete with a background as a self-defense instructor and a dancer. She’d graduated from the academy with flying colors and she had an older brother, Reed, who was also with the unit. It was her former profession as an actress that probably made them wonder if she would make the cut. All officers earned a nickname sooner