Hard Man to Kill (Dark Horse Guardian Series Book 4) (12 page)

He removed his coat and Lara took it for him. 
Damn, if he’s taking off his coat, this was probably going to be a long drawn out conversation.
  “Can I get you a coffee or something to drink?” 

He was a medium-sized man, with a muscled build beneath the suit.  The permanent furrow in his brow made her think he was probably forty years old, with a wife, kids and a mortgage.  Lots on his mind.  He wore glasses and had the appearance of Clark Kent, minus the superman shirt.  He sat at the table in the kitchen with Lara serving coffee.  Monique joined them. 

“Lovely old place you have here.” Redman started out smiling.  He was trying to be nice, because he probably had something earthshattering to tell them. 

Monique was staring at him, as if waiting for the words to tumble out of his mouth. 

“Thank you,” Lara responded.  “What information are you going to give us?”

Captain Redman’s face changed to a solemn stare.  He removed his glasses and closed his eyes for a moment before putting them back on.  His dark eyes met hers as if he was trying to gauge her reaction before he spoke.  “I don’t want to alarm you, but there’s been an intelligence leak in Washington…your husband’s name has been given to some very bad people…terrorists, actually.”

“So, that’s why Aaron Brown and Tim Crosby are following us?” Lara shot back.

“Yes.  They’ve been contacted by someone in Pakistan.  Brown and Crosby are college students, but they’re part of a sleeper cell here in the United States, ready, willing and able to do the bidding of someone wielding a lot of power and money.”  Redman exhaled as if that was only part one of the bad news. 

“There’s more….” Lara prompted him. 

“Yes.  The mission your husband is on has been compromised.  The targets he is hunting have been tipped off.  They know he is coming for them and the most likely scenario is not good.” Redman could barely get the words out.

“What’s the likely scenario?” Lara leaned forward and stared into his eyes.

“These men…the ones your husband is hunting down…they may be hunting him.” Redman closed his eyes after saying the words and swallowed hard.  He removed his glasses once more and set them on the table.  “Please, understand, we are doing everything in our power right now to communicate with your husband and the others working with him.  But of utmost importance, we have reason to believe the terrorists know
your
name, know that you’re his wife, and you have become a valuable possession to them right now.  We need to keep you safe.”

Lara felt the wave of nausea hit her before the rage began.  “Who leaked this information?  I want to know!” 

“I don’t know.” Captain Redman tried to calm her by touching her hand on the table.  “Look, we --- I’m doing everything possible.  Please understand…” 

Whatever he said after that was a moot point, as far as Lara was concerned.  Ben was in danger.  She was in danger.  Monique was in danger.  And the only feeling flooding Lara’s veins was pure rage. 

It was as if Captain Redman read her mind. “And, don’t call anyone and tell them about this.  The less people involved, the better.” 

“Tell me this,” Lara posited. “Is the FBI involved in this?  The CIA?  The Special Activities Director?  Is the executive office at the white house aware?” 

Redman looked away.  “All of the people who
need
to be involved already know about this, Mrs. Keegan.  Trust me.  We are doing all that we can.” 

Lara never felt comfortable with anyone who said the words “trust me.”  And, she certainly did not feel any sense of security at this moment.  Berating Redman wasn’t going to get her anywhere, this much she knew.  She thanked him for coming, and for the round-the-clock protection and sent him on his way.  As she watched his vehicle leave the driveway, she knew in her heart, that she’d need to defend herself, and Monique would need to learn how to shoot a gun in a short period of time. 

She picked up her cell phone and dialed the one man she always knew she could count on.

Pakistan

~ Ben ~

Pakistan during rainy season was every bit as charming as Pakistan during dry season.  As the armored Humvees made their way toward the border, Ben was painfully aware that insertion was the most dangerous aspect of the mission.  According to statistics, most missions were aborted before they got underway due to detection by the enemy.  Dressed as Pakistanis, Moshe’s unit and Ben’s team blended into the landscape.  If stopped they had plenty of cigarettes and money to pass out to the corrupt government officials and all of the men spoke the dialect of the region. 

The danger was being stopped by those they were chasing.  If made, they’d be taken captive, tortured and killed.  Not a cheerful scenario to ponder, but the thought kept the team hyper-vigilant.   Strict attention was paid attention to every detail of their surroundings.  Several drones followed their movements, and F4 Phantoms were ready to scramble from Israel within a moment’s notice.  But none of these things made Ben feel totally confident.  When you came right down to it, nothing ever did. 

The American people were being lied to on a daily basis by those in power.  However, there was a delicate balance.  Those at the top didn’t want to cause panic, create hysteria, get those 300 million guns out there locked and loaded.  The U.S. government feared the gun-toting patriotic, second
amendment lovers more than they did radical terrorists – go figure. 
And, there were times when Ben actually wondered which side his own government was on. 

At the very top levels, there existed an inexplicable bond with the Muslims attacking the United States and everything it stood for.  Yet there was no will to go after these enemies of the state on the battlefield. 
Why?
  The president was actually talking to Iran about nuclear weapons and crafting an agreement that would allow them to build one. There were a far too many Islamists serving in high positions in the very agencies tasked with keeping the country safe.  Had the fox been in the hen house for so long, the hens were afraid to even make a sound?  Or, was the commander-in-chief’s ego so big he wanted to be known for shutting down all defense of Iraq, Afghanistan, shuttering Guantanamo, Bagram, and letting every terrorist go?  Hell, next on his agenda would be to open all of the prisons in the United States and unleash a torrent of crime the likes that had never been seen.  That would fundamentally change America. 
It would destroy it
. 

This was either ego-maniacal leadership or blind stupidity; what’s worse, it could be both.  It didn’t matter what name you gave it.  What mattered, was how the United States of America, the greatest country in the history of mankind, was being taken apart brick by brick.  Laws were being broken at the highest levels.  The constitution of the greatest country in the world was being trampled upon.  There was no doubt any longer.  Four star generals at the Pentagon were boldly speaking out publically about the actions being taken at the top. 
And no one could stop it. To say this was frustrating would be an understatement.  But for Lieutenant Ben Keegan, these actions were undermining his cause, his reason to exist.

Ben focused on killing those he was being paid to eliminate.  The list was long.  Guantanamo
detainees
was such a nice way to describe these butchers in the comfort of a congressional meeting room.  But Ben knew
what
they really were,
who
they really were.  To call them animals would insult animals, for animals paired off in the beauty of the natural world and nurtured their young.  Animals didn’t kill their own, rape them and burn them to death.  They didn’t subjugate other animals to slavery.  Animals didn’t plot and plan to destroy the earth and all who disagreed with them. 

No.  The men he was hunting were no longer human and they didn’t deserve to be labeled animals; they’d morphed into satanic demons.  That’s why pulling the trigger, putting the bullet through their skulls, left him cold.  There would be no fist-bumps or selfies after the killing was done.  He’d leave that to the oval office.  Lieutenant Ben Keegan didn’t have his ego in the game; only his head was in this game, because this was being played for the highest stakes.  As far as he was concerned, losing was not an option.

Recent Guantanamo prisoners released had scattered across the Pakistani landscape like the cockroaches that they were.  They thought they were hidden, but he knew their locations.  The biggest catch of all would be Salib Madi.  Ben wanted to take him alive, if possible, for rendition. 

The normally temperate weather was much cooler than usual.  The unrelenting rain delayed their arrival to the first stop, the city of Khost in Afghanistan, bordering Pakistan.  Disguised as Punjab Pakistanis, the team took the up-armored Humvees over the highway at a reduced rate of speed due to the heavy rain.  Shit.  He hated rain.  Besides interfering with safe travel, the mud it created sometimes gave too much away when it came to footprints and tire marks.  But the driving rain today was unrelenting, causing flooding, washing everything away, even parts of roads.

To make matters worse, Moshe’s vehicle broke down half way to Dera Ghazi Khan. 

“Damn,” Moshe muttered into his com.  “We’ve got a flat.  Got to pull into Bhakkar.  One of my guys knows the area.  Can you drift into the market area down the street from where I’ll stop?”

“No problem.  Let me know when you’re back on the road.” Ben uttered, feeling a sense of dread.  “Damn, I hate it when unexpected shit happens.”

Elvis gave him a sidelong glance. “You think this is trouble?” 

“Yup.” Ben grimaced as he continued past Moshe’s vehicle. “He’s got a flat.  I don’t know why he’s pulling into Bhakkar.  I hate Bhakkar.”

Moshe was back on the com, “Hey, I heard that.  Bhakkar is where we are stopping. We know a garage there, it’s a friendly.  We can change the two flats we have and get some extra tires and be on our way.  I don’t want this caravan to be seen along the side of the road…it’s too obvious.”

Elvis smiled as Ben rolled his eyes.  “Shit, I could have those two flats changed in about ten minutes on the side of the road.  I hate detours.  You know that.” 

              “Head to the center of Bhakkar.  Wait to hear from me.  There’s something else going on, too.” Moshe said his voice tinged with concern.  Ben suddenly realized this was more than just a flat tire.  Moshe wanted to deviate from their original course.  But why?  He did as he was told and blew past Moshe.  Then, Ben turned around and slowed down.  Backtracking, he approached the center of Bhakkar, a short distance away from the garage Moshe pulled into.  Parking on the side of the road in darkness, he slumped against the door of the vehicle ready for a short snooze if Elvis would stay awake to watch. 

              “Damn, I hate this time-wasting shit.” Ben muttered.

~ Abdul Rahman Shafir ~

Abdul could not see well in the driving rain, but perched upon the roof of a building along the highway, he thought he saw the caravan he was expecting.  Ten Humvees of varying colors passed by.  They did not all come at one time.  There were two or three at a time.  They were exactly what he’d expect Keegan to be using. 

He spoke Punjabi into his phone. “It’s them, I think.”

It was his good fortune that in the intelligence document, the United States had given the parameters of this mission, and he now had faces to put with the names of the infidels.  If he killed or captured Lieutenant Ben Keegan, he’d be given a half-million dollar bounty. But better than that, he’d gain status in the Islamic organization.  The entire twenty-five years of his life, Abdul had lived for a moment like this.

However, Abdul knew he was in a precarious position.  Killing Keegan would be much easier than capturing him.  First he’d have to conquer the fear that rippled through him every time he thought about the man.  Keegan’s reputation preceded him.  More Humvees whizzed by heading in the general direction of Dera Ghazi Khan where Ibrahim Ismail waited.  Abdul followed in the red Subaru.  One of the vehicles had stopped by the side of the road and a dark haired man jumped out and checked the tires.  The loosely held convoy continued on, but two Humvees pulled off to enter the center of Bhakkar, deviating from the course. 

This was unexpected.  Abdul had to make a decision quickly, so he followed the disabled Humvee for two miles and watched it enter a garage.  Abdul followed closely, but drove past those he followed as they pulled into the car repair facility. He drove by following the other vehicle into the center of Bhakkar and watched it park.  The vehicle just sat there on the side of the street with the occupants inside.  They were a short distance from the repair facility, as if they were watching, waiting. 

The markets and streets were quiet in the black rain-soaked night. The car repair business was closed, so Abdul couldn’t figure out why the men stopped there.  Maybe they had plans to steal something, or there was something else going on.  He coasted up the street and turned around, finally parking underneath the shadow of a large overhang from an adjacent building.  From his vantage point, he could see the parked vehicle with the two men inside, and he was at an angle so he could view the Humvee if it pulled out of the facility.  He stared in that general direction for what seemed like an hour.