SAFE HAVENS: Shadow Masters (A Sean Havens Black Ops Novel Book 1) (21 page)

“CIA?”

“Shhh. Don’t ever say that out loud. They can hear you.” Doug lowered his head and shoulders and looked around. He raised his eyes slowly to the corners of the room.

Sean mirrored the same subconsciously. “Really?”

Doug smacked Havens on the side of the head and walked down the firing range.

“Your birthday’s coming up. I’m not getting you anything, but you can still blow out your candles. Load up.”

Doug lit four small cake candles down the range, dripping wax on the ground then seating them to stand up. “Two prone, two standing. You have thirty seconds. Wait for me to get out of here.”

There were ten seconds left when the last light was shot out. The candles remained standing. Perfect shots.

When the time came to start planning for college, Havens knew he wanted a university with an ROTC rifle team, a foreign language and study abroad program, and a social psychology program. The school counselor came up with three schools: Princeton, Ohio State University, and an in-state public university. Don Havens came up with one: in-state tuition.

For the first two years at school, Havens excelled. He thrived in the academic environment, participated on the ROTC Rifle Team and Ranger Challenge team, picked up French and Spanish, and started on Modern Standard Arabic. He decided that he would contract with the Army. It was still his dream to qualify for Special Forces. He told a member of the cadre Sergeant Major Jones, and ex-Special Forces officer about it.

“Havens I think you could do it but you’re the one who had to stop during the field training exercise because you lost your contact lens.”

“Yeah, but I couldn’t see.”

“You can’t call time out if you are in combat. How bad are your eyes, boy?”

“Minus seven.”

“Shit. Can you even see me standing here?”

Havens just looked down. This was not happening.

“SGM Jones, I have to qualify. I have unfinished business.”

“What are you 19? 20? What kind of business haven’t you finished except tappin’ some little Suzie Sweatpants?”

Havens gave the Sergeant Major an abbreviated version of LT Laughlin and Kent. He said he felt like if Special Forces were supposed to be the best, who was protecting them? And if something happened to a Special Forces soldier, who was protecting their family? If Havens was Special Forces qualified, he could protect them all.

Jones nodded. “Nice story. Almost made me sniff, but you still ain’t getting in with those Coke bottle contacts unless you get surgery on your eyes. Maybe you can try Military Intelligence and go the Infantry route. MI can deploy with SF. An S-2 can be attached to an A-team and support them with intel.”

“I only want to do Unconventional Warfare.”

“Son, don’t you think SF has to learn Conventional before they learn Unconventional?”

“I already learned it in lab and class. I did all that basic maneuver stuff. That was all old school. If I was Infantry, I’d get killed in a week if a war broke out. Only those Huckleberry Central Illinois kids want Infantry.”

“Uh huh. Why they haven’t already asked you to be a general is a wonder to me,” Jones remarked. “Havens, I am beginning to think you wouldn’t last in Infantry or any other military function, but not because they are old school, but because you don’t know when to shut up and check your attitude. What makes you think you are better than those men? You are not a team player.”

“Sir, I didn’t…”

“SERGEANT MAJOR, BOY! I work for a living!”

“Yes, sir, sorry, Sergeant Major, sir, I mean. Now you got me all flustered.”

“I think you were flustered before.”

“I am not better than those other guys. I’m just different. I know what the right situation will be for me. I can’t be constrained by all these rules. I want to be more autonomous.”

“Autonomous, huh. Boy, where do you come from? God help me, but I am going to do this. Havens, don’t join the Army. You need to run from the Army before the Army runs you out. I have a friend coming to town next week. His name is Jerry. He is going to be at the University recruiting for the Department of State.”

“I’m not going to sit in some embassy.”

“Shut the hell up and do not interrupt me again! Damn you are impertinent, boy. He doesn’t work for State. He works for someone else who may be able to use you. I know you have a couple more years left here, but…”

“I’m leaving next year for Europe. I am studying abroad.” Havens cringed, realizing he had interrupted the Sergeant Major again.

SGM Jones was the blackest African American Havens had ever seen. Jones was six feet tall and seemed to be four feet wide at the shoulders. Havens loved SGM Jones and often came across as too familiar. Jones had reminded him of Doug, who let Sean get close. Jones did not.

“Dammit Havens, shut up! If you want help let me help. I don’t give a shit if you are going on some all expenses paid Eurail trip. Go find Jerry at the recruiting event. Tell him I sent you. Tell him I hate you and that I am offering him payback. He will take care of you. Just shut your mouth when you talk to him. Shut your mouth when you listen to him, and shut your mouth if he asks you a question. Whatever you leak out, since you can’t follow directions, will be a good enough answer. The man is a legend, but keep that to yourself, and understand that it means if you screw this up I will thoroughly wreck you, boy.”

“Thanks, Sarge.” Havens gave a playful slap on Jones’ arm. “I know you like me. Hug?” Havens smiled and outstretched his arms.

“Havens, drop and give me a hundred. If Jerry was here, I’d say he’s going to love you. If you weren’t such a smart mouth you could be one of my best. I’m giving him a mustang ‘cause Lord knows I’ve tried to break you. And don’t get me wrong Havens, if I wasn’t confined by this school, you’d be all busted up and tamed.”

“What are you going to buy me for my graduation, Sergeant Major?”

“Faster Havens, you loud mouth four-eyed spoiled irreverent piece of shit! Every one of those push-ups is how much I hate you. Shit, I hate you so much that if you did as many pushups as the amount of times I wished I never met you, you’d look big and handsome like me. And you ain’t pretty enough to look like me. Don’t bend your back and keep your ass lower. You trying to cheat me, Havens?”

“Sergeant Major, I see a smudge on your boot. Hey, looks like maybe some popcorn stuck on the side. You go to the movies in these?”

“Start from the beginning, Havens.”
Good luck, kid.

Havens found Jerry at the career day by hovering around the State Department booth and looking at name tags. Jerry was an older fellow. Much different than Havens expected, especially if he was a friend of SGM Jones. Jerry looked more like a professor or even a carpet salesman. He was just a regular guy. Maybe even less. The type you would never notice if you passed each other on the street.

Jerry was talking to a young coed who was sharing her future plans as a political science major and ideally working for the Department of State. Jerry was attentive and appearing interested. When the girl would look down nervously in her pitch, Havens watched as Jerry scanned the crowds in just enough time to meet the girl’s eye contact again.

Fuckin’ A, this old guy is a pretty cool hawk
.

“Can I help you? Are you interested in a career with the Department of State?”

Havens turned to an attractive African American girl who could not have been more than twenty-five years old.

“No, thanks. I just need to talk to Jerry.”

“Oh, well perhaps I can answer some questions for you.”

“No, thanks. I am not looking for a job. Just need Jerry.”

“I see. Does he know you?”

“No. He knows a friend of mine. Well a friend of mine is a friend of his. I mean, I was referred to him.”

“I’ll get him.”

Glad to have an excuse to save Jerry from the coed, the State Department representative excused the interruption and nodded towards the young man wishing to speak to Jerry but not wanting a job. Jerry excused himself to attend to Havens and outstretched his hand. He had a huge gem-adorned college ring on his hand that Sean couldn’t make out.

“Hello, I’m Jerry. And you are?”

“Sean. Sean Havens. I know SGM Jones. He said to tell you I should talk to you and that you would be happy he did so.”

“Nice to meet you Sean. Yes, I do know SGM Jones. You must be in the ROTC program here.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what exactly did he say to you, can you recall the exact words?”

“Exact words in the conversation or exact words when he referenced you?”

“What do you think would be most appropriate, Sean? This isn’t a test, relax. I just want to make sure I don’t miss anything.”

“He said, ‘Go find Jerry at the recruiting event. Tell him I sent you. Tell him I hate you and that I am offering him payback. He will take care of you. Just shut your mouth when you talk to him, listen to him, and answer his questions.”

“Thank you. Indeed that is the man I know. He must like you.”

“I like him, but I am not so sure he likes me. I wouldn’t say that if I wanted a job, but thought if you were helping me, you should know everything.”

Jerry smiled and patted Sean on the arm. “He likes you if he sent you. Years back I sent him one of my best. I really liked the kid but thought he would flourish more with Jones. The kid needed structure and wanted discipline.”

“That’s a good fit with Jones. How could you just send someone to the Army from, um, State?”

“I sent him to Jones when Jones was ‘special’ Army. He is returning the favor, I would imagine.”

“So what do you do?”

“Let’s take a little walk. We can get some fresh air. I have been inside all day and could really use a stretch of the legs. Don’t suppose you have a Scotch on you?”

“No, sir, but I’d have one with you if I did.”

“You like Scotch, Sean?”

“Never had it. Plenty of whisky and Coke, but I am open to new things.”

“Good ol’ Sergeant Major Jones.” Jerry took a moment to gaze at Sean as a proud teacher would. He made an assessment right there that he liked what he saw. Jerry pulled out a small stack of 3x5 note cards and jotted a few things down before securing them back in his breast pocket.

Before Sean Havens went abroad to the south of France, Jerry gave him a contact number. He had told Sean that if he ever needed anything or wanted to earn some extra cash while away, he could call his friend Rick in Europe. Jerry said that if Sean didn’t need anything he should call Rick anyway after a couple months in France so he could at least take Sean to dinner.

Sean did as he was told and called Rick after only a few weeks in Marseilles. He left a message and Rick called him back a couple weeks later at the student housing number Sean had left.

They agreed to meet in an older part of town at a small café. Rick was much more of what he had expected Jerry to look like. Rick was in his mid-thirties to early forties, judging by the flecks of grey in his dark hair but younger chiseled face.

After Sean told Rick a bit of his day to day routine abroad, Rick started asking about the students that Sean hung around with. He inquired about their ethnicities or whether Sean was just sticking to Americans or Australians to make communication easier. Sean was proud to say he had befriended a group of Algerians, Tunisians, Moroccans, Saudis, a Turk, and a Lebanese Christian named Stephen who smoked hash like a fiend. A detail Sean immediately wished he had left out. Rick complimented Sean on moving outside the normal comfort zone, to which Sean had replied that he was even learning Arabic with consideration to their different dialects.

Rick told Sean that he worked for a cultural group within one of the State Department’s French Embassies. He expressed interest in knowing more about these Arabs at Sean’s school, especially those who were dating or sleeping with American students. Rick asked for names to be written down. Sean was surprised at this, for he had just learned that a number of his new Arab friends had a thing for American girls. They settled on a price for Sean’s discrete information, which meant Rick offered a modest sum and Sean accepted it.

The two met periodically, about once a month. Sometimes, Sean would simply receive a small package at his school apartment that would include a travel ticket to Italy, Spain, and once, Austria. The note would say “Enjoy a trip on me, but if you can, please do a little shopping for me while you are there. Call me when you arrive.” Sean found himself shopping for a number of shoes or boots in various sizes, jackets, sweaters, etc. It seemed a bit odd, as sometimes those orders could be for five or six pairs of shoes and as many clothing items. They would need to be boxed and shipped to another address that Rick would provide over the phone.

Sean shipped clothes to England, Canada, and Mexico. Then, with extra spending cash, he would enjoy a nice weekend getaway seeing sights. If that was what they wanted him to do, he was happy to oblige.

One of the oddest tasks, however, was a list of streets in a particular city. Havens was asked to walk up and down the streets and count how many houses or apartments were for rent. Another time he was given cash to purchase a car then asked to park it at a different location and leave the keys next to the tire underneath the car. In Bari, Italy, he paid a year’s rent—cash—for an apartment. Other times he was given cash to buy various plane tickets, train tickets, and a ferry ticket from Algaciras, Spain to Morocco. He turned them over to Rick.

By the time he had left his study abroad, Sean had unwittingly helped to discover a number of Middle Easterners impregnating students to gain access to the U.S., he purchased cover clothing made in foreign countries for a number of special mission units, and helped identify viable safe houses and modes of transportation for case officers and intelligence assets. Most importantly to Rick and Jerry, he never asked questions and kept his mouth shut.

For Havens, he had earned close to five thousand dollars in six months, had seen the better part of Western Europe, and had gained additional language and cultural knowledge.

It seemed to be a win-win for everyone.