Hard Man to Kill (Dark Horse Guardian Series Book 4) (20 page)

“It’s made in Israel…” she whispered.

“Like what you see?” Rusty turned toward her.  “It’s a thing of beauty.  It has the same precision guided tag and shoot technology found in fighter jets.”

“Yes, I love it.” Lara felt herself becoming engrossed with the unique firearm, admiring its qualities, and quickly understanding why the Dark Horse Guardians preferred it.  “I want one.”

“And you know the rule:  no guns until I can take you to the range and teach you how to use it.  Each one is different.” Rusty reiterated.  “This is a serious piece of firepower.”

“I like the stainless steel barrel, what’s the advantage of that?” Lara queried.

“Accuracy is truer, plus it doesn’t overheat so easily if you’re popping off a lot of rounds.” Rusty said.

For a moment, it felt as if they were on the pond at Rusty’s range, rambling on about a gun, as they’d done a hundred times before.  But, right now, Lara realized their lives had been irrevocably changed.  If there was ever a time when she wanted to help Ben, it was now.  A plan started forming in her mind; an outrageous one, but it just might work.

“I’ve got something to discuss with you….” Lara started.  “I know this sounds crazy, but I’ve been thinking of a way to end this whole thing quickly.”

“I’m all ears…” Rusty smiled. 

When she had finished explaining her idea, Rusty grinned from ear to ear.  “Where the hell do you come up with this stuff?” 

“You think I’m crazy….” Lara exhaled. 

“No, I think it’s brilliant.  But, I’ve got to get Ben and the other guys on board.  Let me handle this.” Rusty put his arm around her shoulder.  “It’s actually possible, your scheme, but we’ve got to be careful.”

~ Ben ~

On the face of it, Lara’s plan sounded a bit unpredictable, but the more he discussed it with the team, the better they liked it.  Sure, it was fraught with uncertainty and possible problems, but they could use the Dark Horse Game to help them weed out the worst scenario, then the next, and go from there. 

His phone vibrated and he recognized the Special Activities Director’s ringtone and answered.

“Ben, I understand things are going badly there.  I want to do everything I can to help.” Kip Larson breathed into the phone.

“I’ve got this.” Ben held his breath.  He didn’t want to give one morsel of information to Larson about what the team was planning. 

“We can send in some special agents to help….” Larson offered.  “The CIA cares about your family.”

“No, really.  Things are fine.  I appreciate your offer.  But, we are doing all right,” Ben said calmly.  Inside, he was envisioning his hands around Larson’s neck.  The leak that started all of this came from the State Department, and if he had to spend the rest of his life, he’d get the name of the bastard that was responsible for the leak.  He prided himself on being able to find anyone at any time.  If whoever did this thought he could hide behind a vanishing IP address; he was foolish to think that would give him anonymity.  It might work with his little hacker pals, but not with him. Ben coded an app for that, too.  Technically, there wasn’t anyone, anywhere in the world that he couldn’t find and kill.  And, eventually, this State Department employee would be in his crosshairs; it didn’t matter
where
he was.  By committing the act of treason, the bastard painted a bull’s eye on his own back.  Leaking Ben’s personal information, he painted a bull’s eye right between his eyes.   

Finally, Larson acquiesced and hung up.  Good.  It was time to do what needed to be done.  First things first.  Lara needed training on the Silver Shadow.  It was an amazing weapon, but had to be handled nimbly and with care.  Rusty thought it would be best to set up a firing range right there on the compound at Clearwater Farm.  So, at night, the men set about building one on the beach. 

Out of nowhere, several other former SEALs in the area offered their help.  Ben welcomed them to the group as they joined the team for participation in the plan.  The more eyes watching, the better.  At their makeshift firing range, within two weeks Lara and Monique were hitting their marks with great accuracy.  They could strip the weapon down and put it back together.  The perimeter of the property was now reinforced with six more former SEALs and a few army rangers and a couple of marines; friends from the roadhouse.  Lara insisted on paying them a generous salary for their hard work and dedication.  Ben sensed she was eager to swing into action with the team, but he wasn’t ready just yet.  The next step was simulation for a few days in the gaming room. 

For the next few weeks, Lara and Monique enjoyed designing for clients at home in Ben’s office, when they weren’t at shooting practice or helping out with childcare.  At night, when the children were sleeping, Ben’s office converted into the Dark Horse situation room.  All of the team members logged into new computer stations Ben had installed and their work was laid before them.  Lara and Monique wanted to participate, actually insisted upon it.  The team no longer had any reservations.  A well-placed bullet, center mass was all they needed.  There was no difference if it came from a female or a male, as long as it hit its mark, the shot would be celebrated with gusto.

“We need to lure them here.”  Ben explained.  “The situation needs to look real.” 

Bettencourt thought aloud, “We can set that beach scene up.  But, I want the women and children out of the picture.  Far out of the picture.  How do you plan to do that?” 

“She’s thought of that, too,” Ben smiled, “I’m provisioning the sailboat, little by little.  I will take the women and children away in that.  There’s an island just off the coast, Fort Gorges.  The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers put the fort on Hog Island Ledge, which is the entrance to the harbor of Portland, right around 1865.  It is similar in size and construction to Fort Sumter, but is constructed of granite instead of brick.  You can actually see it from here.”

Ben showed photos of the fort on the big screen. “Fort Gorges was last used by the Army during World War II for storage of submarine mines.  Accessing the island involves crossing areas with strong tidal currents and should only be attempted by Navy SEALs under the right conditions, using a proper boat, which I have.” 

“So, the women and children will be on an island that is basically an old fort?” Elvis asked.

“Yes, Einstein will be there, too.” Ben stated. “As for the beach scene, we need Geminoid automatons that look exactly like us.  We will dress them in our clothing, build a bonfire on the beach, play some music in the early evening…..and that will be the lure.  They’ll think we’ve dropped our guard.  It will appear that we’re having a celebration on a warm spring evening.” 

“The perimeter needs to be wider and reinforced.” Gus noted.

“Yes.  And, it will be.  We will put the additional SEALs here, here, and here.  Rangers will be on the east side, the marines on the west.  Plenty of silver shadows for all of you.  A huge shipment just arrived from Israel, courtesy of Moshe.” Ben smiled. 

But he felt the smile disappear as he continued, “The biggest problem will be avoiding our own bullets.  The way this place is set up, we’ll be fighting in a bowl.  It’s important we take the high ground, use the G’s, and watch them come in.  But, the moment the first shot goes off, they’ll know our positions. We also don’t know how many of them will come.  Right now, my intel gives me four, maybe five.  But, if it is more than that, we could be in for trouble.  These bastards have access to the best weaponry.  From what I’ve learned, some of the stuff Americans left behind in Iraq is now being utilized by them.  It will be a night fight, so that will add an element, too.  We’re best at night, but if they have night vision goggles – it will level the playing field, a little, anyway.”

The room fell silent.  Ben could sense the team was thinking.  Some of the men asked questions, others wanted to dive into the game, which would play out all of the different possibilities.  After two hours of running through each scenario the artificial intelligence could throw at them, it was obvious they could be in a tough spot, unless it all came together without a hitch.  But, Ben knew that was a rare thing.  Every mission, no matter how well planned, always had unexpected events that seemed to occur at the most inopportune moment.

Rusty immediately went to work to obtain Geminoid automatons from Japan that would be suitable.  Not an easy task, Ben knew.  But, if anyone could do it, Rusty could.  He was a magician, at times. 

~ Abdul ~

Frustrated by Keegan’s latest move, Abdul paced the floor of the living room in what he considered a second rate apartment.  He wanted a more luxurious flat, but his father said that would attract too much attention.  Lately, he had brought his father nothing but disappointment.  In silence, Abdul replayed the events of the last few weeks.  In discussing the execution of Keegan, one of the American men went off on his own and pulled the trigger.  This was not something he had ordered, it just happened.  Aaron Brown was a hothead.  The whole incident was an embarrassment, his father had explained angrily on the phone.  Abdul was blamed for having this incompetent idiot, Aaron Brown, affiliated with him.  His father’s anger was palpable.   Salib Madi said the actions of this one man proved that Abdul as not a leader. 

The noise at the door jarred him from his reflections.  The rest of the jihadi cell arrived for the meeting.  Ibrahim, Saleh, Tim and Khouri.  Abdul had preconceived concerns about Khouri.  He was forced to take him on due to his father’s insistence.  Khouri could be really good at scouting and killing, or an uncontrollable wild card, from what he had heard.  He hoped he was wrong about the latter.  But only time would tell.  His father explained to Abdul, part of being a leader is controlling the actions of those you lead.  Thus, he knew from the beginning, he had to take control of Khouri.  This was his last chance.

As the men settled in the living room, Abdul began talking. “We have been watching Keegan for months now.  One of our operatives, Aaron Brown, was killed because of his stupidity.  He was spying on Keegan and decided to take a shot at him.  Big mistake.  Keegan has his team of Navy SEALs there and other reinforcements.  We need to watch him around the clock.  Don’t do anything stupid like Brown did, or the same thing will happen to you.” Abdul tried to sound like the leader his father expected him to be. 

Not a good sign, Immediately, Khouri questioned his authority.  “But, if I have a good shot at this Keegan, shouldn’t I take him down?  There’s a half million bounty on his head.  Why shouldn’t I get it?”

Abdul stared into Khouri’s dark and brooding eyes, hoping he had enough intimidation to give him pause.  “No, that’s exactly how you will get killed.  Our approach here must be calculated.  We need to exercise patience….do you know the meaning of that word, Khouri?”  Already, Abdul suspected Khouri was only interested in obtaining the half million bounty and making a name for himself. 

“Of course.  My English is perfect.  I don’t understand your cowardice, however.”

“I’m in charge of this operation; that’s all you need to know,” Abdul spoke loudly, swallowing the rage building inside of him.  “Here is the plan.  We watch the compound around the clock, night and day.  I will bring more men, if needed.  But, we must figure out Keegan’s patterns, his comings and goings, hack his phone, his computers, lay low until the right moment.  And, there will be a right moment.  But, only I will be the one to determine that.  No one else.”

The room fell silent except for the ticking of the clock on the wall, which was beginning to drive Abdul crazy.  It seemed the minutes and hours were ticking by, as his father screamed at him on the phone, daily now.  Talking about the killing of Keegan, but yet not speaking about it.  They knew all of their communications were monitored by the NSA and the U.S. government.  But their moles in the NSA and Homeland Security were monitoring Keegan, too.  And, Abdul had frequent face-to-face contacts who told him everything.  They were friendly well-educated Muslims supportive to his cause, working for the NSA and selling him intelligence.  Valuable information. 

The third week of May was coming to an end, and he was no closer to executing Keegan than he was the day he arrived.  His intelligence, however, had an interesting nugget of information in it today.  Keegan was planning an outdoor barbeque with his fellow warriors on the beach at his house.  He must be feeling fairly comfortable, if he was scheduling such a vulnerable affair.  But, Abdul, being the cynic that he was, waited for further confirmation of this event Keegan was setting up.  He wanted more proof that it was truly going to happen.  But in the next day or two, the chatter confirmed it.  Abdul began feeling hopeful for the first time since he’d arrived in the United States.

Ibrahim and Tim were watching the road going into Keegan’s residence.  Sure enough, trucks carrying food products and outside furnishings drove in and dropped off items for his Memorial Day celebration.  Phone calls were intercepted saying to bring the family and other friends, they had food for everyone. 
But, why would Keegan be in such a happy mood?
  Memorial Day, it was a day to honor the dead.  But, Keegan didn’t seem to realize he’d be among them.  Could he really be this foolish?  Something didn’t seem right….but, Abdul ordered the men to watch and wait.  The date was fast approaching.

~ Lara ~

Family dinners were large at Clearwater Farm with all of the extra mouths to feed.  Over the past couple of months, the team and their family members became very close to Lara.  She filled in as a school teacher, babysitter, nurse and story teller, when needed.  The children had grown fond of her and she genuinely enjoyed expressing her inner child when with them.  She knew their preferences and personal quirks.  And, occasionally, she even fantasized about having a child with Ben.  But, what a lifestyle to bring a child into.  Black-ops.  She never knew whether Ben would come home injured or even alive.  The upheaval was similar to that of a military family, except now they had terrorists gunning for them.  She dismissed the idea of getting pregnant any time in the near future.  This was something she’d need to talk with Ben about if she could ever get him alone.