Page 4 of Shielding Instinct

Petra wasn’t down with anything like that. “Oh?”

“The person assigned that seat would like to switch because they don’t like dogs.”

“Dogs.” Petra’s gaze followed the attendant’s line of sight to a woman in a cat sweater. “Does she know where I was sitting? She’d prefermyseat?”

“She was informed that we upgraded by list and that she’d have to accept whatever seat was being vacated. And she said she prefers that.”

That seat would have been a claustrophobic squeeze for Petra and this woman…

Who knew? Maybe she liked the feeling of compression.

“This is the situation.” The staffer leaned forward, pulling her smile even wider. “We have four working dogs who are traveling to the island. The dogs need the extra room of the bulkhead. On the left-hand side, the dogs will sit in the bulkhead seats at A, B, and C. Their handlers will sit right behind them.On the right-hand side, there will be a handler in bulkhead seat D, a K9 in E, and the seat we are offering you is the window seat, F.”

“With the bulkhead space.” Images of the K9s at her base in Afghanistan came to mind. They were deadly dangerous. “What kind of working dog?” Petra glanced around, but only the hand-held-sized dogs were in view – the kind their owners could stow in a carrier under the seat, or hug to their chests for emotional support; like that chihuahua over there.

“The one in your row,” the staffer looked down at a piece of paper with a scrawl of illegible blue script, “is a German shepherd named Cooper.” She threw her shoulders back and nodded with emphasis that Petra read as pride. Or satisfaction? Patriotism? No, Petra couldn’t figure out what the woman was trying to convey with her body language.

For her part, the look on Petra’s face must not have read as enthusiastic because the staffer added, “You’ll receive free drinks and the upgraded meals and services of the comfort seat section.”

Before Petra could game out this change of events, she found herself saying, “It’s fine with me. I like dogs.” If nothing else, maybe she’d walk away with a good bar story,The time my flight to St. Croix went to the dogs.

“Thank you.” The staffer looked relieved. “You’ll board when we call for those who need assistance so you can get settled. The dogs and their handlers will load last.”

As the lady with the cat sweater mouthed “thank you” to her, Petra wasn’t sure the woman would feel the same by the time they got all the way down to St. Croix.

Stepping out of the way so more people could bring their rollies to get checked in, Petra found an empty spot to stand in by the window. There she watched the ground crew turn andstop their ant-like activity, focused on something just out of her view. Petra changed her angle until she saw the distraction.

Each of the four men, dressed in the easily recognizable Iniquus camo gray tactical uniform pants, topped with winter bomber jackets and visored caps, stood wide-legged with a K9 sitting at attention between their feet.

Something about the team—the level of calm and orderliness around them—made her yearn to have that, too.

A well-trained dog and an orderly man would be nice additions to her life. Petra felt a bit like a child looking at the glossy tarts in the bakery window, hungry for that kind of connection.

Up until now, Petra’s job had been crazy hours and crazier assignments. She wasn’t sufficiently reliable to have any kind of relationship that included someone who depended on her—not a pet, not a romance, not even a plant.

People often talked about the boredom of schedules and routines. Petra craved it.

You always want what you don’t have. The grass is always greener.

But in her case, Petra believed she’d shoveled enough shit in her day to properly fertilize that greener pasture. And she was looking forward to a slower, more reasonable way of life now that she had her own research lab at the FBI.

Petra had high hopes that things were about to change. She liked the idea of setting her roots in one place, with a routine and the work-life balance that made a more rounded existence possible.

When her phone buzzed, she pulled it from her pocket, Avery Goodyear. Petra might not have a dog or a man in her life, but she did have good friends.

Avery:Rowan told me about your new position! Congratulations! I’m taking you out to celebrate. When are you free?

Yup, with her spanking new title and her own research lab, she did feel like a celebration was in order. But right now, Petra was more interested in the Iniquus operators below her, so she tapped to make a phone call just as a jet took off with a woosh of noise.

“Good morning.” After a pause, Avery asked, “Are you at the airport? I thought that was over.”

“For work, it is. This is personal. I’m flying down to St. Croix.”

“Good that you’re getting out of this weather mess. I’m surprised the airlines aren’t delaying your flight.”

“Shhh. We do not speak such things into existence.”

While Avery chuckled. Petra added. “I’m looking at a group of men from Iniquus. You and Rowan are friends with a bunch of people from there, aren’t you?”

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