K9LTW – a fiction by MKHurder part-2
CHAPTER 27: The Weight of the Morning
Perimeter Silence
The sun rose slowly over Bearcat, as if reluctant to reveal what the night had left behind.
Smoke drifted in thin sheets across the compound, curling around sandbags and timber posts. The jungle beyond the wire was quiet, did not feel peaceful.
Jasper walked the perimeter alone.
His boots crunched softly over churned mud and spent brass. The quad‑50s sat silent now, their barrels dark and cooling. The wire was torn in places, sagging under the weight of the dead. Engineers moved quietly, marking breaks, planning repairs. Medics passed stretchers hand to hand, their voices low, their movements practiced.
Jasper didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. His presence was enough.
He paused at the west wall, where the final charge had broken. The sandbags were scorched. Blood had dried in the seams. A helmet lay half‑buried in the mud, its liner torn, its owner gone. He picked it up, turned it over, then set it gently on the sandbags. Behind him, the firebase stirred.
McCready barked orders from the TOC covering for Jasper who wanted a first-hand look at the aftermath and to show his face to the men. The Medic and Doc Conner moved among the wounded, checking names, counting heads. They knew these men, this was personal. Donnie sat on the edge of the kennel run, Bodie beside him, both watching the jungle with the same quiet intensity.
The dogs hadn’t slept and hadn’t stopped alerting. The breeze only got stronger in the morning and that translated to more intense alerts from the K9s, so neither had the men slept.
The Warning
Reyes didn’t trust silence.
He’d learned that in the early weeks, when quiet meant movement, and movement meant death. Now, standing near the kennel run, he watched Rook with the same intensity he’d once reserved for tripwires and boot prints.
The dog was still. Not relaxed. He was still – ears forward, nose twitching, and muscles taut as a bowstring.
Reyes crouched beside him, one hand resting lightly on the chain-link. Bodie stood in the adjacent run, tail low, eyes fixed on the tree line. The jungle hadn’t moved, but the dogs had noticed something. Something subtle and probably a human with hostile intent. Reyes scanned the perimeter with even more intensity.
The engineers were still working the wire. Medics still moved among the wounded, all relocated closer to the med shack and the helipad for transport of the most severe. McCready was inside the TOC, hunched over the radio stack. Donnie sat nearby, cleaning his rifle with slow, deliberate motions.
But Rook didn’t care about any of that. He was locked on the jungle. As was Bodie. Reyes rose, slung his rifle, and walked toward the TOC. “It’s getting real out here, Sarge. Both hounds are chomping at the bit.”
Signs in the Mud
Jasper didn’t head straight back to the TOC. He paused at the southeast wire, where the engineers had flagged a section for repair. Something felt off to them and on further inspection they found the mud was churned with footprints, but not random, like a charging army would create. These tracks ran parallel to the perimeter, not toward it.
He crouched, brushed aside a broken branch. Saw definite footprints. Not scattered or panicked. This was intentional. Under guard, he followed them for thirty meters, then stopped at the jungle’s edge. What should have been a solid wall of vegetation had been cut. Not blasted or burned as if in a firefight but cut. Someone had moved through here with purpose. He rose, scanned the tree line, then turned back toward the TOC.
McCready would want to see this.
The Intercept
The radios had been hissing all morning, a low static that blended with the hum of generators and the distant clatter of engineers rebuilding the wire. Nothing unusual. Nothing alarming.
McCready heard it first.
He was in the TOC, sleeves rolled, eyes red from a night without sleep, leaning over the radio stack while Jasper stood beside him. The air inside the plywood room was thick with sweat, dust, and the faint metallic tang of overheated electronics.
A burst of static cracked through the room. Then another. Then a clipped, hurried transmission in Vietnamese, faint, broken, but unmistakably urgent.
McCready froze. The radioman looked up. “Sir… that wasn’t ours.”
“No,” McCready said quietly. “It wasn’t.”
Jasper stepped closer, listening as the transmission repeated, fragments only, swallowed by distance and interference. It might be a location code or a unit designation. A phrase or two McCready didn’t understand, but the few words he did pick up were foreboding.
The enemy were withdrawing. They weren’t retreating, they were regrouping and repositioning.
Jasper exhaled slowly. “They’re only repositioning? Figures.”
McCready nodded once. “No, sir. They’re not done with us.”
Outside, the jungle remained still. But the radios had spoken.
And the dogs had known before any of them.
The Stillness Before
Reyes sat on the edge of the kennel run, elbows on knees, eyes locked on the tree line. Rook hadn’t moved. Neither had Bodie. The jungle was quiet, but not empty. Sitting there waiting for something to happen felt like a held breath. Like the moment before a storm, when the air thickens and the birds vanish.
Donnie joined him, rifle slung, face drawn. He didn’t speak. Just sat beside Reyes, watching the dogs. “They know,” Reyes said quietly. Donnie nodded. “So do we.”
Behind them, the compound moved in slow rhythm. Engineers were stacking wire, medics tending wounds, McCready and Jasper still inside the TOC. But out here, on the edge of the line, the silence was louder. A breeze stirred the smoke. Rook’s ears twitched. Bodie shifted his weight. Reyes stood. Donnie rose beside him. They didn’t raise their rifles. They didn’t call for backup. They just watched. And waited.
Bao’s Choice
The jungle clearing was quiet. Smoke drifted through broken canopy, curling around the boots of exhausted men. The ground was littered with spent casings, torn med packs, and the remnants of a command post hastily abandoned. Bao stood alone.
Minh’s death had left a silence that no orders could fill. The men watched Bao now, for direction. Their eyes were hollow; their faces streaked with soot and grief.
He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. He walked to the edge of the clearing, where the jungle thickened again. A map lay folded in his hand, damp with sweat. He knelt, spread it across a flat stone, and traced a line with his finger. Not toward Bearcat. Not away from it. Around it.
He folded the map, stood, and turned to the nearest runner.
“Tell them to hold position, for now.” he said. “No more charges. No more noise. We move soon.”
The runner nodded and vanished into the trees. Bao looked back once at all the dead he left behind, at the smoke, the surviving men, the wire beyond the jungle. Then he stepped deeper into the green.
The Wire Tightens
The engineers worked fast. Reyes had said nothing, but his silence carried weight. The wire crews doubled their pace, stacking sandbags, threading razor coils, hammering stakes with a rhythm that felt like prayer.
Donnie moved along the line, checking tension, marking weak spots. He didn’t speak either. Just nodded, pointed, adjusted. Jasper returned from the southeast wall, face grim. He didn’t interrupt. Just joined the work. McCready stepped out of the TOC, arms crossed, watching the compound shift from recovery to readiness. The worst of the wounded had been medivac’d to 3rd Field Hospital. The quad‑50s reloaded. The medics had gone quiet.
Even the birds had stopped. Reyes stood near the kennel, Rook beside him, both watching the jungle. The wire was tighter now. He wondered like everyone else – Would it hold again, and for how long?
The First Movement
It started with the birds. Not their singing, the absence of it. Reyes noticed it first. Rook had already shifted, body low, ears flat, eyes locked on the tree line. Bodie mirrored him, tail stiff, weight forward.
Reyes didn’t call out. He just raised one hand. Donnie saw it, turned, and froze. The engineers stopped hammering. McCready stepped out of the TOC again, eyes scanning, posture rigid. Jasper crossed to the south side of TOC, binoculars up.
In the tree line branches moved, not by the wind. Shadows shifted, hard to see wraiths in the green. The wire seemed poor protection from whatever evil lurked beyond that green wall of dread.
Reyes crouched beside Rook. “Where?” he whispered. Rook didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Just stared. “Straight ahead, Sarge. He’s acting like the threat is at high noon.”
Jasper lowered the binoculars. “Straight down our throats again? Do they have a death wish?” Glancing at the k9s, “Jesus, they’ve got to be close,” he said. McCready nodded. “No where to run, sir.”
“Then we hold.”
The Perimeter Reacts
The first indication of movement came from the right side of the perimeter. It was a single, sharp crack of a branch under weight. It was close enough that every man on the line recognized it as man-made, not the result of wind or wildlife.
Rook reacted immediately. His body stiffened, and a low vibration rolled out of his chest. Reyes dropped into a crouch beside him and kept his eyes on the tree line. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. The dog’s posture told him everything he needed to know.
Donnie was already turning toward the sound. He brought his rifle up and settled into a firing stance. His breathing slowed. His eyes moved in controlled sweeps across the brush, searching for any sign of movement.
The engineers stopped what they were doing. One man froze with a hammer still raised. Another lowered a coil of wire to the ground and shifted behind a stack of sandbags. They had been working fast, but now they were staying put, waiting for direction.
Jasper issued a short command to the gun crews. His voice was calm but firm. The quad‑50s rotated toward the sector, their motors giving off a steady mechanical whine as they locked into position. The crews behind them adjusted their footing and checked their belts.
McCready stepped out from behind the sandbags and moved forward until he had a clear view of the tree line. His expression didn’t change, but his posture tightened. He scanned the brush with the practiced focus of someone who had seen this pattern before.
“Hold fire,” he said. His voice carried across the line.
The men obeyed. No one shifted. No one spoke. A few seconds passed. Then something moved between the trees. It was quick and low, just enough to confirm that someone was out there. Donnie adjusted his aim but didn’t fire. Jasper steadied the gun crews with a raised hand.
Reyes leaned closer to Rook. The dog’s ears were pinned forward, and his breathing had changed. He wasn’t guessing. He was tracking. “They’re checking the perimeter,” Reyes said quietly.
Jasper nodded. “Looking for a weak point.”
Donnie kept his rifle trained on the tree line. His finger rested along the guard, not the trigger. He didn’t blink. Rook continued to growl, steady and controlled.
The line held its position. No one fired. No one broke discipline.
Whatever was out there had not committed to an attack. Not yet. But they were close enough to study the defenses, and every man on the line understood what that meant. The next move on this particular chess board would not be subtle. It would be fatal.
The Line Holds for Now
The movement along the tree line stopped as suddenly as it had started. No more branches snapped. No shadows shifted. The brush settled into stillness, but no one on the line relaxed.
Reyes kept a hand on Rook’s collar. The dog’s muscles were tight, and his breathing stayed fast and controlled. He wasn’t confused or uncertain. He was waiting. Donnie lowered his rifle only a few inches. He kept the stock against his shoulder and his eyes on the same patch of brush. Sweat ran down the side of his face, but he didn’t wipe it away.
The engineers stayed in place behind the sandbags. One of them finally set his hammer down quietly, as if any noise might trigger something they weren’t ready for.
Jasper walked the line and checked each sector. He didn’t say much. He didn’t need to. Every man he passed was already locked in and watching.
McCready stepped back toward the TOC. He paused at the doorway and looked over the perimeter again. His jaw was tight. He had seen this pattern before, and he knew what usually followed.
“Keep your sectors covered,” he said. “No one stands down. They’re looking for the man who’s sleeping. Don’t be that man.”
Reyes gave a short nod. Donnie didn’t look away from the tree line. Rook growled once more, then went silent. His ears stayed forward. The jungle stayed quiet, but the quiet didn’t mean safety. It meant the enemy had gathered whatever information they wanted. It meant they were adjusting.
It meant they would be back soon. The men on the line stayed in position. No one moved for fear of giving their position away. No one spoke for the same reason. They waited and tried to stay awake and alert.
On Bien Hoa, there was a heated argument about who should get the Cav’s support. Bearcat would end up on the short end of the stick again.
(to be continued) Chapter 28 – The Weight of the Morning Teaser – The perimeter stayed on full alert through the night, but the enemy never pushed. By sunrise, the men were tired, jumpy, but ready for whatever came next. The dogs were restless. Rook paced the length of the kennel, stopping every few steps to stare at the same section of brush. Reyes didn’t like it. Neither did McCready.
At 0630, the first report came in from Donnie and the south patrol. They had found fresh tracks along the creek bed. More than one set. Moving parallel to the wire. The Patrol was ordered to RTB. Jasper gathered the handlers and squad leaders near the TOC. Donnie arrived last, still geared up from the patrol. No one needed a briefing to understand the situation. The enemy had not pulled back. They had repositioned.
Whatever was coming next would not be a probe. It would be another push. If Jasper had his way, the dogs would be the first to know when it would start. He sent the teams back out as an early warning system covering the entire southern end of the base. The penetrate the dense jungle looking for the enemy stronghold. Until this area is cleared, resupply can only come in by helicopter. Bearcat was cut o ff from Highway 1.
(Attn: all images AI generated from my prompts unless otherwise noted.)
It’s just my blurb from here to the end.
Click the link to start from the beginning of – K9LTW/BOOK1-Chapter 1 – fiction
Click the link to start from the beginning of – K9LTW/BOOK2-Chapter 16 – fiction
Click the link to start from the beginning of – Doh-Rey-Me/BOOK1-Chapter1 – fiction
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Bonus Fiction Feature:
If you read any of the fiction I create here to the end, you will be able to download a free copy when It’s complete. If I get a referral from you, I’ll throw in the fiction – Burtt the Blade.
From Popi’s Tales & The Book of Wonders
More from Popi’s Collection of Facts & Fiction
- Burtt the Blade – fiction
- Doh-Rey-Me Book 1 – fiction – book – written here
- Doh-Rey-Me Book 2 – fiction – book – written here
- K9LTW Book 1 – fiction – book – written here
- K9LTW Book 2 – fiction – book – written here – in progress
- Mystery of Willow Woods – fiction – short Story – written here
- The Last Signal – part one – fiction – book – written here
- Rift Guardians – chapter#1 – fiction – book – written here
- Shorty’s Path – non-fiction auto biography book
Table of Contents
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