SAFE HAVENS: Shadow Masters (A Sean Havens Black Ops Novel Book 1) (24 page)

“So you think someone else was here too?”

“Yeah, I got this Spidey-sense tingling that there was someone else. Had some of the lab rats taking swipes and photos and had the boys doing some canvassing of the neighborhood. Got one guy to get the K-9 out while they walked the backyard to see if there were some remaining ground compressions still present. I’ll see what they have in the morning.”

“Well at least they got the guy who killed the crazy in the house.”

Lars gave Havens the finger with only a hint of a smirk on his face. “That guy was off though. I recognized him right away.”

“How could you recognize him? I thought they didn’t know who he was?”

Lars pursed his lips. He had half-meant to slip in his disclosure about being involved with the case. Lars liked to keep a handful of secrets.

“Sean, I somewhat diverted the rape kit with Christina’s approval.”

“You what?”

“No biggie. I wanted to make sure it got a rush but also got the proper attention to detail. We got partial prints from the perp off of Maggie right away and a few full prints with some work. I have this new little gizmo that can suction prints off fabric. State of the art. But we were able to pull this guy from some past arrests.”

“Did they put out a warrant?”

“Yep, but they couldn’t find him. Had a few leads, but nothing came through. This all happened very fast. Plus, I had to do this while I was away. Christina didn’t want me to come home but still wanted some help, so I did it all remotely until I got in town. By then I was making funeral arrangements.”

“Thanks, Lars. You shouldn’t have had to do that.”

“I know you are her husband, but I couldn’t wait or trust there wouldn’t be delays. I tried calling you a number of times but it went straight to voice mail.”

“Sorry about that.”

“No need. A lot is cleared up now that I know you were doing special mission unit stuff in suits and what not. I suspect more, but that’ll work for now.”

“Thanks.”

“So, what is this about tomorrow night?”

“Technically, it is tomorrow now. Still have enough energy to go for a drive?”

“I’m not so sure I can drive. Can you?”

“Who’s going to pull me over, a cop? Plus I can just hit the autopilot on my car. It is only about fifteen minutes from here.”

“Where are we going?”

“We are going to flip over some dead gangsters in their coffins. Good for the soul.”

“I thought you were just angry when you said that.”

“I was. But I was also serious.”

“They probably aren’t even buried yet. Won’t they be at the funeral home?”

“Nope.” Lars continued to gather his personal things lying on the table. Rather buzzed, he patted himself down for car keys.

“Lars, it’s stupid to take that kind of risk. I’m not sure what the point is. We have no plan.”

“I have a plan.”

“Lars, seriously, if we really want to do something, let’s give it time so we can send a message, but one that won’t get us busted. Cop or not, they would look to us first for the crime. We have the motive.”

“Careful Sean, you are using cop words now and that’s my lane.”

“I have an idea. Let’s get some shut-eye and sleep this off. I’ll check on Maggie first thing and get some arrangements made. I want this carpet pulled up and walls cleaned and painted tomorrow. I don’t want Maggie coming home to this.”

“OK, Sean. Go get some sleep. I’m going. I know the guy who works the backhoe at their cemetery and he said he isn’t covering them until tomorrow morning. Sean, these guys are a dead end. There is nothing left to do other than disgrace their remains.” Lars shrugged his shoulders, thinking it made perfect sense.

Sean found the idea to be ridiculous. It was dangerous. It was careless. It served no purpose other than some stupid way for revenge. Havens knew how to exact revenge on men and this was trivial. Amateurish. He brooded for another few seconds and realized it was the only thing they had in their power to do at this time. They were drunk. They were hurting inside.

“Let’s go. Wait. I have some gas in the garage.”

“Now you are with the program.”

Lars smiled and gave a little mini dance. He walked to a kitchen drawer and retrieved some wooden matches.

Part III

I am the hunted that stalks my aggressor

I am neurosis, I am the measurements used

When it’s time to choose which tools are proper

For the opportunity to break it loose

When it breaks, it’ll all come together now

Armageddon, just a change in the weather now

I am the one, I’ve come to let the pressure out

More human than human, so you can feel better now

Yeah, more human than human

—X-Ecutioners,
from “(Even) More Human than Human”

Chapter 30

T
he new orderly arrived for his first day at work in the intensive care and trauma ward. He showed the security guard his badge with an unfriendly demeanor of annoyed accommodation.

“New guy, huh? ICU I see.” The guard inspected the badge while sizing up the new employee. “Well, alright, Mr. Whittington. Do you know where to go?”

“Yes, sir.” The orderly looked around and down, not making direct eye contact with the security guard.

“Alright then. Have you worked in a hospital before? You look a little sharper than most of our orderlies. Better shape too. Military man?”

The orderly looked up. “Sir, if you don’t mind, I don’t want to be late.”

“No problem. I was in the Marine Corps for thirty years. You sure look like a military man. I’m sure I will be seeing you around then.”

The orderly nodded and continued walking down the corridor making the hard left that visitors and new employees typically miss on their first time to this wing.

“I’m impressed. You do know where you are going. Pretty good, new guy!” the guard called out down the hall. “I’ll see you around.”

A maintenance man approached the guard to check in. “Hey, Jose, man, just saw a new big ass orderly. Military man. No Marine. Looks Army. Probably fresh out. Think I will pay a visit this week to Meredith in HR upstairs and see who our new friend is. Be a good excuse to say hello. Wonder if she is still sweet on that new administrator. She still sweet on him?”

“Yo no se.”

“Mmmhmm. Well tell me this then. Why they starting a new guy at midnight shift? You ever seen that happen?”

“Man, I don’t see nothing. That’s your job.”

“Mmmhmm. Every soldier’s a sensor, Jose. You’re my soldier and sensor.”

“I’m just a janitor, boss.”

Harrison Mann tended to the wound he sustained from Brock then finished cleaning the basement of the rental home where he held his crazy captive. The wound wasn’t as deep as he had thought, but it still needed some stitches. He had a small kit with med supplies in the trunk. Harrison looked around the house. All traces of Brock’s short stay were gone. The bungalow was perfect for their ruse of frightening Brock as his meds had worn off and his mind reverted to its diseased state. Despite the success, their work was getting sloppy. Harrison didn’t like having to assume that Brock had bled out or broke his neck. He also didn’t like playing with nut jobs. He knew Brock was a freak and wondered if Draeger was as well.

This operation needed better tactical intelligence and more time on target. No more of these seat of the pants operations where they depended more on luck and fate. No more of these surprises like unexpected guests. That was for amateurs. It made Harrison feel like a criminal, not a soldier.

Even if they were supposed to look like amateurs, time constraints in planning would get them caught. He decided he would have to discuss this with Draeger. Harrison returned his focus to the situation before him and scanned his memory of the unfolded events. What else needed to be done to wipe this op from their hands? What traces could later come back to haunt them?

Confident that all had been taken care of, Harrison turned off the lights. Perfect tenants. The cash paid month-to-month lease would expire in two more months. Better call the landlord tomorrow to let them know the property was now vacated. It would be better to get someone else in here as soon as possible. No, he thought. Better to find some squatters to come in here. He could pass the word through a contact of his on the street. He had plenty of drug snitches still running around the area from a DEA stint he did locally. That would do the trick in less time. The landlord could keep the deposit.

Chapter 31

D
raeger tossed and turned in his bed. There was a loud knock at the door. Moments later it became a pounding. Draeger could make out the verbal sounds but didn’t understand the language. He tried to move but couldn’t. Something was binding his legs. His head was foggy. He heard a crash as the door caved to the unrelenting visitors. Where was his gun? He remembered leaving it on the night stand beside his bed. He just needed to break free somehow. The men surrounded him now in swivel chairs, laughing. Draeger’s mind raced. Was it Iranian security? Lebanese Hezbollah?

An explosion blew the roof off over his bed. Men in white robes and black assault uniforms rappelled down the walls from the helicopter above. Draeger watched the metal casings cascading from the assault rifles. The woman beside him in the bed gyrated from the impact of the bullets. Her blood, exiting her body like liberated peoples, joined in the dancing.

A masked assaulter continued shouting in the foreign tongue as he unraveled plastic wrap to cover Draeger’s face. Draeger struggled to lift his hands into his line of vision. They were now bound by flexicuffs. The woman’s cold arm flopped onto his naked chest. Another assaulter began lighting a propane torch. Draeger couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. The men in chairs cackled harder. Left with no other outlet, Draeger opened his mouth to scream.

“Shit,” he muttered, at last escaping the blanket tangled between the couch cushions.

Draeger, with arms now free, wiped his sweaty face. His heart was racing. He ran his hands through his sweat-soaked hair and scratched the back of his head. A security panel on the wall still showed a steady glow of small red lights in a descending trail of secured zones. He looked at the clock on the cable box. It read 2:45. He had hoped it was much later but knew it was unlikely.

Great. A whopping hour of sleep.

To Draeger, this meant a number of things. First, he had had a bad dream just after entering REM sleep. He would have a few more short sleep sessions before sunup. Second, the night terror had not come yet. Most of the night terrors he could not recall. They were less vivid than his recurring dreams. His night terror would likely be next before he hit REM sleep again. His hands continued to perspire. His heartbeat was still strong but the stage-4 sleep cycle terror wake-up would send his heart racing to maximum output. He would awake disoriented and panic-stricken. He hated the night.

Draeger shut off the television’s muted flashing and closed up the main floor after making a cup of valerian root tea to put him to sleep.

He went upstairs a soldier, ready to engage his enemy on the battlefield of his mind. He tried to process the dream as he climbed while reflecting on his day for potential triggers.

Shit, my whole damn life is a trigger. Gotta change the ending somehow. I can change it. I can train to win this. I have the training to beat my own head.

I’ll take the Prazosin pills tomorrow if I don’t sleep.

Draeger downed the tea, grabbed a pillow, and went to the guest room. He slid a heavy wooden chair under the door knob and assured it was a snug fit. He looked at the blankets on the closet floor and felt a sudden pang of shame at his situation. He was afraid that if he sought help the medical records and payment coverage would signal instability to someone. He’d lose his job and clearances. Fluffing his pillow and pulling up the blankets, Prescott Draeger solemnly closed his eyes with the same mental preparation that he would in a high altitude low opening parachute jump to go behind enemy lines. He closed the closet doors and felt secure in the tight space.

Chapter 32

H
avens dashed the mobile phone against the concrete sidewalk in front of the hospital. The rugged OtterBox case bounced the phone onto the small strip of city grass. The sight relieved Havens, but he immediately regretted his impulsive tantrum.

It had been days since Christina’s funeral and burial. Maggie was still unresponsive and the doctors were concerned about her continued low brain activity. Now Havens was being told that in order to keep his job he would have to deploy yet again to the Middle East. Killing America’s top terror suspects had opened a Pandora’s box of seemingly random actors who were now targeting any key westerners that were within their reach. Libya was a concern and the boss needed him to go on an exploratory mission east of Tripoli. When Havens declined due to his daughter’s critical condition, to his shock, he was terminated. Jason had apologized but said it was beyond his control.

Insurance benefits would revert to COBRA continuing coverage but only for so long. With no job, Havens would have to start using his savings. Like many public sector employees, Havens had planned on moving to the private sector to take advantage of the higher pay rate in order to fill his coffers. For some reason, those coffers never seemed to fill as much as he’d like.

The phone rang from the grass. Havens could read the incoming caller’s name, CABLE GUY.

Prescott Draeger.

Havens picked up the phone and accepted the call by the fourth ring.

“Hey, buddy.”

“Hi Sean, how have you been holding up?”

“’Bout as good as expected.”

“Sorry I couldn’t make it to the funeral. I just got back CONUS. I’m so sorry for Christina’s death, real shame. Sean, are they closer to finding anything more about the whole thing?”

“Thanks, Prescott. No worries. I understand. They have some hunches and the two or I guess three guys who were involved are now dead. Whole thing is crazy. The guy who killed them was some random Latino gang member who ended up getting shot too. Story is these guys were involved in drugs and the Latino was looking for them. After he found the two black gangbangers and shot them, their guys must have gone after him and killed him a few blocks away. Probably never get answers to everything. There was some other twist and I ended up getting another body in my house. It’s just all fucked up. None of it makes sense. Cops suspect the crazy guy paid some street thugs to kill her but they left something behind and he had to go back to get it.”