Page 4 of Eden and her Mercenary (Changing of the Guards)

Royal

"I 'll call Mack now, see if he can meet us." I stepped away to make the call, leaving Eden with Ryker.

Through the kitchen window, I watched as Ryker introduced himself properly. Despite her initial wariness, Eden seemed to relax slightly as they talked, Stella remaining vigilant at her side. The other dogs had begun to stir, stretching and yawning as morning light filled the cabin.

Mack answered on the fourth ring, his gruff voice thick with sleep. "This better be important, Royal."

"Need your expertise," I said quietly. "Off the books. It's about a dog."

"Since when do you have a dog?" The sound of rustling sheets came through the line.

"It's not mine. But she might have something implanted—something military grade."

That got his attention. "Military grade? What are we talking about here? "

"Neural implant, possibly. Behind the ear. Need to know what it is and if it can be removed safely."

A long pause followed. Finally, Mack sighed. "Bring her to the back of the store. Use the service entrance. Nine o'clock."

"Thanks, Mack. We'll be there."

When I returned to the kitchen, Eden was helping Ryker feed the dogs while explaining her transport route.

"—so, the shepherds and the beagle are going to families in Pearl Lake. The rest continue on to Kingston tomorrow."

"Except Stella," Ryker said, glancing at the pit bull who watched them from a careful distance.

Eden's face hardened. "She's not going anywhere near those people again."

"Mack will see us at nine," I announced. "Back entrance of his store in Pearl Lake."

Relief washed across Eden's face. "Thank you."

"We should move soon," Ryker advised. "Those Junction guys could still be searching the area."

Eden nodded. "I'll start loading the dogs."

As she moved to gather the transport crates, Ryker pulled me aside. "You know what you're getting into here, right? If Prophecies and Junction are involved, this goes way beyond some dogfighting ring. "

"I know." I watched as Eden gently coaxed the lab puppies into their crate, her movements efficient but gentle.

"The MacGallans won't like us getting involved in something this messy," he warned.

"Then don't tell them." I met my brother's gaze. "Look, I'm seeing this through. You don't have to—"

"Don't be an idiot," Ryker cut me off. "Where you go, I go. That's how it's always been." He glanced at Eden. "Besides, she seems... important to you."

I started to protest, but the knowing look in his eyes stopped me. "I just met her last night."

"And yet here we are." Ryker clapped me on the shoulder and moved to help Eden with the remaining crates.

I checked my watch—7:30 AM. If we left now, we'd arrive at Mack's with time to spare. I gathered my essentials—gun, extra ammunition, wallet, and keys—and did a final sweep of the cabin to ensure we weren't leaving anything behind.

Eden approached as I was locking up, Stella following close at her heels. "Your brother said you have a plan for getting to Pearl Lake without being spotted."

"Back roads," I confirmed. "Longer route, but less chance of running into our friends from Junction."

She nodded, exhaustion and worry etched in the lines of her face. Despite this, there was a quiet determination in her stance that I couldn't help but admire.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked suddenly. "You could have just kept driving last night, forgotten all about the crazy woman who cut you off. Why risk getting involved?"

I glanced at Stella, who was watching me with those intelligent eyes. "Let's just say I know what it's like to be used and controlled by people who are supposed to protect you." I met Eden's gaze. "And I know what it's like to have someone step in when they didn't have to."

Something passed between us then—a moment of understanding that went beyond words. She nodded slightly, and we headed to our vehicles without further discussion.

The journey to Pearl Lake took us through winding forest roads and small communities just waking up for the day. I led in my truck, Eden's van following, with Ryker bringing up the rear in his rented Jeep—a defensive formation that would alert us to any pursuit.

Pearl Lake itself was a picturesque town nestled against the shore of its namesake. Tourist season hadn't started yet, so the main street was relatively quiet as we bypassed it, taking side streets to the back of Mackenzie Wells' general store .

Mack was waiting by the back door, his silver hair tied back in a ponytail, arms crossed over his chest. At sixty-five, he still had the build of the Army medic he'd once been, with hands that could be surprisingly gentle despite their size.

"Three vehicles for one dog?" he remarked as we pulled up. "Must be some special canine."

"You have no idea," Ryker muttered, scanning the surroundings before giving Eden the all-clear to unload Stella.

Mack's expression changed when he saw the pit bull—a flash of professional assessment followed by genuine concern. "Bring her inside. Quickly."

The back room of Mack's store had been converted into a small but well-equipped veterinary space. Metal examination tables, cabinets filled with supplies, and various medical equipment lined the walls. The space smelled of antiseptic and the faint metallic scent of medications.

"Put her on the table," Mack instructed, washing his hands at a small sink. Eden lifted Stella onto the examination table, murmuring reassurances as the dog trembled slightly.

"She's not fond of medical settings," Eden explained, keeping one hand on Stella's back. "Given what we've learned, I can understand why."

Mack approached slowly, letting Stella sniff his hand before gently running his fingers over her scarred coat. "Someone's done a number on you, haven't they, girl?" His tone was soft, but his eyes hardened as he cataloged the old injuries.

"We believe she was used in some kind of military experiment," I explained, keeping my voice low. "Neural implants, possibly for remote behavioral control."

Mack's hands stilled. "Project Cerberus," he said, not looking up.

The room went silent. Eden's sharp intake of breath was the only sound.

"You know about it?" Ryker asked, stepping closer.

"Heard whispers," Mack confirmed. "When I was still with the VA, treating veterans. Some black ops guys talking about dogs that could be controlled remotely, sent into hostile territory without handlers." He gently tilted Stella's head, examining the scar. "Never thought I'd see one up close."

"Can you tell what's in there?" Eden asked, her voice tight with anxiety.

Mack moved to a cabinet, retrieving a handheld device. "This is a universal microchip scanner—more sensitive than the standard ones. Let's start with that."

He ran the scanner over Stella's neck and shoulders—the usual locations for identification microchips. It beeped softly at her shoulder blade.

"Standard rescue chip," Mack noted, checking the readout. "Registered to Edmonton East Side Animal Shelter." He continued scanning, moving toward her head. When he passed the area behind her ear, the device emitted a different tone—higher pitched, more urgent.

"Bingo," he murmured. "There's definitely something there. Not your standard microchip." He set the scanner aside and reached for another device—sleeker, more modern. "This is a portable ultrasound. Let's get a better look."

The image on the small screen showed a distinct foreign object nestled against Stella's skull—something small but unmistakably mechanical.

"Holy shit," Ryker breathed.

"It's anchored to the temporal bone," Mack explained, pointing to tiny filaments extending from the device. "And these—" he indicated thread-like extensions reaching deeper "—appear to be connected to neural tissue."

Eden's face had gone white. "Can you remove it?"

Mack's expression turned grave. "Not here. This is neurosurgery. The implant is integrated with her brain tissue." He straightened up. "Removing it incorrectly could kill her or cause permanent damage. "

"So we're screwed," I said, frustration building. "Those Junction guys can track her, maybe even control her. And we can't safely remove it."

"There has to be a way," Eden insisted, stroking Stella's head. The dog leaned into her touch, seemingly oblivious to the discussion about the dangerous technology embedded in her skull.

Mack tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I might know someone—a neurosurgeon who left the mainstream medical community after some... ethical disagreements. Dr. Eliza Chen. She specializes in experimental procedures now."

"Where is she?" I asked.

"About three hours north. She has a private clinic in an old, converted hunting lodge." Mack pulled out his phone. "I'll call her, see if she'll help us."

As Mack stepped away to make the call, Eden's shoulders slumped slightly. I moved closer, placing a hand on her arm.

"Hey," I said softly. "We'll figure this out."

She looked up at me, exhaustion and determination warring in her eyes. "I can't let them get her back, Royal. You didn't see how she was when I first picked her up—terrified, broken. Whatever they did to her..." She shook her head. "No living creature deserves that."

Ryker had been checking the windows periodically, keeping watch. "We should move the vehicles," he suggested. "Too conspicuous all parked together back here."

I nodded. "Good idea. I'll take mine around front, make it look like I'm just shopping."

"I'll find somewhere less visible for the van," Eden said. "Those guys know what it looks like."

"I can hide it at my place," Ryker offered. "It's just outside town."

Eden hesitated, then handed him her keys. "Just... be careful with them. The dogs, I mean."

"Yes ma'am," Ryker replied with unusual deference. Something about Eden's fierce protectiveness seemed to have earned his respect.

Mack returned, phone in hand. "Eliza will see us, but there's a catch."

"Of course there is," I muttered.

"She needs specialized equipment for this kind of procedure. Equipment she doesn't have."

Eden frowned. "What kind of equipment?"

"A neural mapping system. It'll show her exactly how the implant is connected to Stella's brain before she attempts removal." Mack's expression was grim. "Without it, the procedure would be too risky."

"And where do we get this equipment?" Ryker asked .

"That's the catch. The nearest one is at Prophecies Biomedical."

The silence that followed was heavy with implication.

"So we need to steal from the very people hunting us," Eden finally said, her voice flat.

I exchanged a look with Ryker. "Wouldn't be the first time we've done something like that."

"You can't be serious," Eden said, turning to me. "That place will be locked down tight, and what do we do with Stella? They can track her.”

“I hate to say it, but it’s time to call Declan,” Royal said, looking at his brother. “See if we can keep Stella at their place in the panic rooms.”

“Good idea,” Mack chimed in.

Ryker grimaced. "Calling Declan means bringing the MacGallan’s into this."

"We don't have a choice," I replied. "The panic room at their place is the only place I know that can block tracking signals completely. He had military-grade signal jammers installed, remember?"

Eden looked between us, confusion evident on her face. "Who's Declan?"

"Declan MacGallan," I explained. "The family's oldest son. He runs security for their operations after his brother Connor took over from him as captain of the clan. If anyone can keep Stella safe while we get what Dr. Chen needs, it's him."

Eden's hand protectively covered Stella's scarred head. "And we can trust him?"

Ryker and I exchanged glances. "Trust is a strong word," Ryker said carefully. “He was the captain of the Irish mob until he got married. Now he and his wife live here in Pearl Lake.”

"But he owes us," I added. "And when it comes to protecting animals, Declan's solid."

Eden bit her lip, clearly torn. Her fingers absently stroked Stella's fur as she considered our options. The pit bull leaned into her touch, those intelligent eyes never leaving Eden's face.

"Okay," she finally said. "Call him. Just make sure he takes care of her because I’m going with you to get that neural thing.”

I started to protest, but one look at her had me changing direction. “Of course. Wren, his wife, will be there too and all those rescues I told you they have, were her idea.”

Ryker stepped away to make the call while Mack continued examining Stella, taking notes and occasionally murmuring to himself.

"There is something there," he said, showing us close-up images on the ultrasound screen. "See right there? There’s a crack in her skull that has been fused together with what looks to be staples."

I watched Eden's face as she processed this information, the tension in her jaw revealing her struggle to maintain composure.

"How did they even develop something like this?" she whispered.

Mack shook his head. "Military research has always been decades ahead of what the public knows about. Neural interfaces have been in development since the early 2000s."

Ryker returned, tucking his phone away. "Declan's on board. Says to bring Stella to the east entrance of the estate in one hour. He and Wren will be waiting."

Relief washed over me. "Did you tell him about Prophecies?"

"Yeah." Ryker's expression was grim. "He's not thrilled about us breaking into a military contractor's facility, but he's making some calls, getting us blueprints and security details."

Eden looked up sharply. "He can do that?"

"Declan has connections everywhere," I explained. "Former military, intelligence agencies, corporate security. If anyone can help us get in and out of Prophecies safely, it's him."

"We should move soon," Mack advised, powering down his equipment. "I'll pack some supplies for Stella—sedatives, pain management, antibiotics. Whatever happens, she'll need them."

As Mack gathered medications, I pulled Eden aside. "Are you sure about coming with us to Prophecies? It's going to be dangerous."

Her eyes met mine, unwavering. "I've been transporting rescue dogs through dangerous situations for fifteen years, Royal. I can handle myself."

"I don't doubt that," I said. "But this isn't just angry owners or local police. These are professional mercenaries with military training."

"All the more reason for me to come," she insisted.

I studied her face—the determined set of her jaw, the fierce protectiveness in her eyes. There was no talking her out of this.

"Alright," I conceded. "But you follow our lead inside, understand? Ryker and I have done this kind of thing before."

She nodded, then hesitated. "What about the other dogs? They still need to get to their destinations."

"I can take care of that," Mack offered, overhearing our conversation. "I know the families expecting the shepherds and the beagle. And I can arrange transport for the others to Kingston."

Eden's shoulders sagged with relief. "Thank you."