Color Blind (Team Red)
Read Color Blind (Team Red) Online
Authors: T. Hammond
Color Blind
Team Red – Book 2
By T. Hammond
Cover Design by ebookcoversgalore.com
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever (except for review purposes) without the express written consent of the author.
This book contains adult situations, themes, and language, including explicit sexual content. This book is not recommended for readers under 18 years of age.
Disclaimers
I made it up. There really is no talking dog; and if Bas and David were real, I would not have time to write. All the events and characters in this book are figments of my imagination. I have used the names of real places, but all people and any events that occurred in the story have been fictionalized.
The city of Spokane is described with a lot of accuracy, as far as landmarks, local restaurants, and parks. The Spokane Police Department, miscellaneous and mysterious branches of the military, and Fairchild Air Force Base (FAFB) figure into my plot, but I will tell you up front, I have no knowledge of the policies, politics, pomp, and procedures that are actually in place for events described (which I made up because, you know, this is Fiction).
I took some unintentional liberties with the actual borders for the city of Spokane, my error was pointed out by a fellow Spokanite. Some of the crime areas represented in Blind Seduction and Color Blind, were actually in unincorporated areas that should be handled by the Sheriff’s department, not city police. I apologize for the error, but, for the sake of the story, it is easier to have Team Red affiliated with only one law enforcement agency rather than multiple jurisdictions. I will continue the series as written and ask for the readers’ indulgence
To separate the more erotic Adult version from the New Adult version, I re-issued Red Rover as Blind Seduction, the original working title. The Team Red series is now offered in two versions: “Blind” for adult readers preferring a spicier, adult-themed story, and “Red” series more suitable for New Adult readers.
The “Blind” version is written first. Afterward, ages are modified and changes made to tone down adult themes and language, making the “Red” version a new story, with obvious mirrored elements of the original (such as the dialog). Some people enjoy following both storylines.
Books by T. Hammond
Team Red ‘Blind’ Adult series:
Blind Seduction, Book 1
Color Blind, Book 2
Team Red ‘Red’ Series:
Red Rover, Book1
Red Zone, Book 2 (coming September 2013)
My thanks for the patience and perseverance of my Team Re
d “Blind version” Beta Readers: Leah Brimhall, Felicia Cochran, Chris Corbin, Helena Ferrell, Jen Moulton, Nita Roberts, and Jocelyn Sanchez. – You guys are most awesome, and your excellent feedback (good and bad), and ideas are so valued.
Tara Shaner, Editor Extraordinaire, thank you for your suggestions- you made Color Blind a better book.
A shout out to Deborah, of Tugboat Designs for working a little touch-up magic on my cover pic.
My appreciation to Mike for the Navy rank and Warrant Officer information, and answering my emails and phone calls. Mike graciously offered suggestions and I tried to ask the right questions to make the details as accurate as possible. Any mistakes or misinterpretations are my own fault *hanging head*. And Mike? Thanks for telling me about Mustangs!
A special thank you to fellow author, Ella James. When I was reading her book, Selling Scarlett, she had an “About Editing” explanation in her book that struck me as an excellent idea (Therefore, I asked her permission to use it); she was gracious enough to allow me to use all or parts of her insert. My modification (I’m a writer, damn it! Of course, I modified it) is listed under the “An Indie Author” heading at the end of this book, but it is based on her framework, so I want to throw credit to her for a great idea, and providing a foundation.
The Book of Emptiness
Thirty Spokes will converge
In the hub of a wheel;
But the use of the cart
Will depend on the part
Of the hub that is void.
With a wall all around
A clay bowl is moulded;
But the use of the bowl
Will depend on the part
Of the bowl that is void.
Cut out windows and doors
In the house that you build;
But the use of the house
Will depend on the space
In the walls that is void.
So advantage is had
From whatever is there;
But usefulness arises
From whatever is not.
-- The Tao Te Ching
Excerpt translated from
The Book of Five Rings,
by Miyamoto Musashi
Contents
It has been five or six weeks since we assisted the police department with the Northside rape case. We discovered Red was awesome at distinguishing various scents from the evidence the police collected. In the tracking, and the substance identifying tests we have done since then, he has also proven his talent for deductive reasoning. Red’s smart, scary smart, but he’s still a puppy. Able to focus with steely resolve, making intelligent observations about crime scene evidence, then suddenly reverting to sarcastic knock-knock jokes, chasing his tail, or barking at cats. When I think about my dog, I mentally picture a toddler channeling Albert Einstein- there are flashes of brilliance, but the toddler is still there, steering the body.
Gil, a detective for the police department, coined the name Team Red, and we have come to refer to our unit activities that way. Red, the tracker; me, the interpreter; and Bas or David, the security – or as Red once called them, the Rock and the Hard Case. Geez, where does my dog come up with this stuff?
Our few Team efforts have served to emphasize the need for a better way to communicate amongst ourselves while Red does his thing. It can be distracting when I have to translate what he’s mind-speaking to me. I was starting to feel really rude, interrupting people who were talking, in order to relay Red’s comments or observations. Since Bas and David, oh, and Gil, the detective we work closest with at the Spokane PD, know American Sign Language, we decided that I should also learn it. We determined the majority of people we work with would not know ASL, and even fewer would catch on to our abrupt, more discreet, shortened version we were utilizing. It’s a bonus that Red is able to pick up on a lot of the signing. Funny, actually, when he started correcting us on our accuracy, since he had the hardest time getting the hang of it when we first started last August.
Learning sign language when you’re blind is a challenge. My friends, Janey and Ken, pause frequently to help me learn each movement as we follow along with our ASL videos; but, I am able to keep up with the lesson plans because Bas and David work with me, almost daily for a minimum of fifteen to thirty minutes, to keep the exercises fresh. Thanks to their combined efforts, I can sign succinctly enough to relay Red’s observations when I don’t want his commentary verbalized to outsiders. We try to keep our hand gestures at waist level, close to our bodies, in an effort to attract as little attention as possible.
Although Team Red, technically, consists of Red, David, Bas and Yours Truly, we were starting to consider Detective Gil Westfield an honorary member of our circle. As an ex-military man, like my guys, he just seems to get us. Not only does he fit in with our team dynamic, but we trust him. I am confident the detective has my back if there ever comes a time when Bas or David aren’t able to accompany Red and me on a tracking job. The Team had determined from the start - when Red and I worked an assignment, there will always be at least three of us: Red to sniff, me to ask the right questions and relay Red’s insight, and one of the guys to keep us safe from prying eyes.
Just think for a moment about the implications of a talking dog. Red has this amazing nose. In regard to items where forensics can’t (yet) find a trace of DNA evidence, my dog can distinguish a whisper of scent. And don’t overlook that Red is able to go places where a person’s presence would be suspect. As my seeing-eye dog, he’s ignored - after all, a dog can’t tell what he’s overheard, right? But the tool is valuable, only in the hands of someone who can use it properly. Uh, yeah. That would be me. The guys kindly tell me I’m just as valuable, because I’m the only one who can hear Red’s thoughts.
“Banzai!
” I heard the scratch of dog claws scramble across the deck and straight off the edge.
“What the…?”
Ken’s laughter started indoors and got louder as he rolled the screen door open so he could step outside to stand by me on the back deck. “Teresa, your dog is totally wicked. He must have launched himself eight feet out to catch that.”
“Catch what?” I needed a clue here. Maybe I could ask for a vowel? “All I heard was him yelling ‘Banzai’ as he dashed past me.”
“Damn it! Red!” David’s voice shouted from the kitchen area as he stormed through the house and joined us outside. “Where did he go?”
Oh, oh, someone’s in trouble. In my mind I heard what sounded like
“Mwah ha ha.”
A very satisfied, doggy version of maniacal laughter.
“I hear evil chuckles emanating from under the deck,” I tattled.
“Red!” David yelled again, stomping down the six steps leading to the back lawn. “You promised you’d leave them alone.”
“What?” I asked. Sometimes being blind is so frustrating. “What did he promise to leave alone? What’s happening?”
“Red just took out one of the mini-drones,” Ken explained. “He leapt right off the deck and caught one in mid-air. It was totally awesome!”
“Not so awesome, Ken,” I replied with the Voice of Reason. “Do you have any idea how much those things cost?”
A voice interrupted from under the deck:
“According to the Rules of Engagement, it was flying over the DMZ. Per our contract, I’m allowed to take out anything in the red zone.”
“What contract? You’re a one-year old, you’re too young to contract with anyone.” I sighed, shaking my head, “Geez, what am I saying? You’re a dog, who would be crazy enough to make a contract with you in the first place? And, what are you talking about? Rules of Engagement and Demilitarized Zones?”
Ken figured out the conversation based on my replies to the dog. “David and Bas are testing the mini-drone maneuverability portion of the program they’re developing,” Ken explained. “Red promised to stop snatching them out of the air as long as David kept them away from the deck area, henceforth to be known as the demilitarized zone.”
Henceforth, huh? I think that’s the first time I’ve heard a real person say that word in a conversation. I kept my snide thoughts to myself.
“Geez Red,” I heard David’s muffled grumble from under the deck below my feet. “Just how many of these do you have down here?” There was a short pause. “Eight? You caught eight drones?”
This time I joined Ken in a peal of laughter. “What do you expect David? He’s a dog, he’s going to chase them,” I reasoned. “Isn’t that why you started having them made of hard rubber, instead of metal?” Personally, I thought he was fortunate Red only collected drones and didn’t feel an urge to bury them too.
“I caught most of them before we set up the Rules of Engagement,”
Red rebutted.
“The other two were within jumping distance of the deck, so I’m allowed to catch them.”
I repeated Red’s words for David’s benefit.
“We were flying a pattern ten feet away from the deck rail,” David protested.
“Ah, I underestimated his jump by two feet,” Ken confided in me, sounding like a proud parent. In a louder voice, “That was a ten foot leap Red. Most excellent!”
I jabbed a playful elbow in Ken’s side. “Stop encouraging him. What if he accidentally swallows one?”
Secretly, I agreed with Ken. The drones David used to refine his software were vaguely shaped like helicopters for maneuverability. Not much larger than golf balls with two inch tails, they measured three to three and a half inches in total length. I could hear them constantly buzzing around our property as the guys ran their simulations. While we had established speed limits around the house, some of the drones were capable of moving very fast, depending on the program being tested. It was impressive that Red, from a running leap, could snatch one out of the air.
David’s booted footsteps were heavy as he clomped up the steps. He stopped in front of me. “Here, hold on to these,” he requested. I heard a clacking sound as he, presumably, dropped the retrieved hardware in Ken’s hands. Then he speared fingers through my hair tilting my face up for a warm kiss. “Good morning, Beautiful.”
“Hey, Gorgeous,” I replied, melting into the sexiest mouth in the Inland Northwest, sliding my free arm behind his neck to deepen the contact; I mustn’t spill the coffee held in my other hand. David tasted faintly of Columbian roast and… was that a donut? No one offered
Me
a donut this morning.
“Oh, Puh-leeze. Get a room for goodness sakes,” Ken complained, sounding mock-disgusted. “Here, let me grab your mug before you spill this last swallow down David’s back. I’m making a new pot so I’ll refresh your coffee when it’s ready. I need to go inside anyway, to check on the chicken I’m marinating for lunch.” The mug was pried from my surprisingly firm grip (I am serious about my java), leaving me free to slide the second arm completely around David’s wide back as Ken wandered back to what he claimed as his kitchen.
“Mmm, what were you two doing down in the man cave? Working out? Burning off donut calories perhaps?” I asked, swiping my tongue across his lips to catch any residual sugar.
By man cave, I was referring to the twelve-hundred square foot, windowless basement that David commandeered when he accepted my invitation to cohabitate. In the five weeks since he moved in, he and Bas have transformed it into a computer room, slash, fitness room, slash, security room, slash, weapons stash, and ‘I don’t want to know what else is down there’ room. He and Sebastian Declan have been using the Cave to design and test uber-hush-hush surveillance software; security prototypes and programs that David developed for his clients (yeah, the kind that wear uniforms and salute each other). It was all very top secret, which is why the room, with its own hidden entrance (in the pantry of all places), was perfect for their clandestine projects. We kept a smaller, fully equipped computer room upstairs to act as a decoy in case anyone made it through the security system and into the house, but there was nothing of importance in there.
There are no windows in the basement, making the room a firetrap, so the guys decided to tunnel an escape route that opens up inside a tool shed about ten feet from the back door. Personally? I think it was just secret, boyhood wish fulfillment. I mean, secret tunnel? Really? I’m sure there should have been permits for most, if not all, of the property renovations, but what harm is there in a few circumvented laws? I enjoyed the irony of having six detectives and officers we worked with regularly at the police department, digging the tunnel on their days off. It says a lot about the trust built up between us all, that Bas and David could ask for their help. As for the permits? I’m blind, how am I supposed to know what’s really going on down there? Snicker.
“We were lifting weights when the program went crazy. One of the drones suddenly dropped off the grid.” David bent forward and caressed his mouth over my throat. “Damn woman, you smell good. Lavender and…” he sniffed lightly, “vanilla?”
“Yep. I smell even better laid out on those crisp cotton sheets in our bedroom,” I burrowed my face against the dampness of his neck, “they smell like your cologne. I think our scents smell better when they are blended together, don’t you?”
The approaching heavy tread of hiking boots preceded Bas, who called out, “Did you find it? It looks like we have a drone missing from the house security program too. The readout shows we lost it last night in almost the same place as the second drone.” He joined us outside.
I released David to give Bas a one-armed, good morning hug. “Hey, Handsome. I’m betting you’re working off a donut too. I’m feeling left out.”
“Don’t worry,”
Red called out from his hiding spot,
“we saved a chocolate one for you.”
“Are you guys giving donuts to the dog?” I’m pretty sure I sounded suspicious as well as grumpy. Amazingly, no one spoke up to deny my accusation; I took that as guilty silence. I made a mental note to bring up the subject of the dog’s diet again later, when donuts weren’t at stake. “I can’t believe the dog got a donut before anyone offered one to me,” I pouted. Yeah, I know, really mature. But they all knew I loved donuts.
Ken followed Bas out from the house and rattled his handful of hijacked hardware. “Super Dog took out the drone, plus most of the metal ones you were missing from last week.” I heard a clatter that sounded like Ken spilling the drones on the picnic table beside us.
“Don’t you guys use GPS or something? Can’t you just find them when they go missing?” I asked.
“Whatever is disabling them seems to turn the drones off, so there’s no signal. Kinda like when you turn off your cell phone,” Bas answered. “These are the cheaper, lightweight versions we use for speed and maneuverability tests; they are pretty low tech compared to the military-grade stuff we haven’t unpacked from the egg crates yet.”
David chuckled. “Is it too late to trade him in for a Chihuahua? At least they can’t jump higher than a few inches off the ground.”
Red’s voice piped up from somewhere under the deck,
“I caught them fair and square.”
There was a thoughtful pause.
“I think I should get a finder’s fee.”
When I repeated Red’s suggestion, David retorted, “Finder’s fee? They wouldn’t be ‘lost’ in the first place if you left them alone.”
Call it a moment of weakness, I took this opportunity to defend my faithful canine companion. “You have to concede that when the darned things are flying around the property, they look like small balls. You know his favorite game is ‘fetch’; talk about waving a cape in front of a bull. Red may be able to talk to me like a person, but he is still a dog - of course, he’s going to chase them.”
“I’ve been tempted to come out here a couple of times with a tennis racket,” Ken admitted.
“Coffee?” I asked hopefully.
“Brewing,” Ken reassured.
“I suppose I should confess, the cat next door caught one of the metal ones last week when it flew close to the fence line. When I chased her, she dropped it so I added it to the pile I had already caught.”
“Red tells me the cat next door caught one of them.” I grinned, “Obviously you forgot to review The Rules with all the surrounding animal life.”
Bas started laughing. “David, you have to admit that ten feet away from the deck is a great catch. Not to mention it was going almost fifteen miles an hour. We’ll have to review the cameras and watch.”
“Red,” I called. “Come on out. You’re not in trouble.”
To my two warriors, I said, “What we have here, is a failure to communicate. You guys renegotiate the rules. I don’t want the dog hurt by leaping off the deck. A no-fly zone should apply to the dog as well as the drones. Add power words and phrases to your discussion like: no treats, no steak, and kennel. Those seem to work for me.”
“We don’t want him hurt either, this was why we explained Rules of Engagement to him in the first place,” Bas told me. “We even set up a no-fly zone over the deck to reduce temptation.”
“Maybe you guys should include me in on the human-canine negotiations from now on? He may understand your words, but you can’t hear Red’s replies to make sure he understands the finer details of your instructions. You know that nuances sometimes escape him, resulting in a loose, and often advantageous, interpretation of the Rules.” I grinned, “Such as him thinking, if he can catch it from a leap off the deck, then he can go for it. He’s very smart, but he’s a dog. If he wants something he just takes it and begs forgiveness afterwards.” I frowned in thought. Actually, when I think about it, I can recall the ‘it’s better to ask forgiveness, than seek permission’ strategy has been in Bastian’s repertoire for years. My smile widened; it seems like Sebastian Declan is getting a little of his own back.
“I thought we made it clear to him,” David complained.
“Yeah, we even used small words and visual aids,” Bas added, with a laugh.