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

by J. T. Patten

  He reviewed the names. All he knew was that the names would be intermingled. High value targets were mixed in with some lower value targets, all of whom had apparently committed some offense to the families of soldiers now abroad. Based on his initial discussions with Harrison, efforts to cease the infractions by the accused were not working and it was starting to stress the family situation and operational effectiveness of the soldiers.

  Havens considered Chicago’s most violent communities like West Englewood, Austin, Woodlawn, Greater Grand Crossing, Humboldt Park, South Shore, West Garfield Park, and looked to tie them to other areas with lesser violence such as Rogers Park, West Ridge, and Lincoln Square. With most of the violent communities experiencing between fifteen to twenty-five homicides in a given year, that gave Havens only one to two bodies per community without raising a pattern or concern about the rise of violence. As a crutch, Havens had the luxury of an additional one to two killings in each community, violent or otherwise, with some accidental deaths, suicides, or manslaughter. If they were able to spread the victims out over eighteen months, their operation would be that much safer. It was fortunate for Havens that so many of these criminal cartels had become transnational organizations performing just as many astute business transactions to solidify their power as they had acts of violence.

  Havens would also hit core elements of Chicago as an important drug distribution center that connected groups throughout Asia, Africa, Europe, and Central and South America. He would have to gain an understanding of specific neighborhoods in order to learn how the cartel leadership and traffickers blended into their neighborhoods without arousing suspicion while still interacting with the lower henchmen gang members who handled the retail aspect of drug sales. The nexus of instigation would have to be within the trafficking of heroin, cocaine, marijuana, and methamphetamines. With an increased presence of AK-47s on the street, there would also be ties to munitions flows as well as the sex trade through human trafficking. Gangs would be easy to identify with their open air drug markets and untrained lookouts making overt signs to their counterparts.

  Havens thought it over. He had also heard of some ruthless cartel assassin squads that were reported to have committed killings of rivals in and around the city. Perhaps they could be used somehow. Havens pondered how he could use the roving bands of Somalis who moved drugs across the upper Midwest. With between six to seven identified Somali gangs, that gave him some room to play with, especially since some of them were connected. The fact that many were involved in the trafficking of minors to engage in sex acts meant Havens had no issue with inflicting both pressure or death on those gang members or their associates.

  Since the Somali gangs didn’t protect territories, it would be feasible that they would interact with different communities around the city and be in competition with new market entrants as well as established groups. The fact that the Somalis didn’t identify themselves publicly with typical gang attributes and generally kept a low profile only added to their utility. Havens could find the volunteer agency contracted by the State Department to determine where Somali refugees were resettled. Havens started to make notes and Google various social services, charities, and relief agencies in Minnesota. He thought he might be able to tie that to the local mosques and some of the recently reported sex trafficking.

  With ties to mosques, Havens could extend to the greater Muslim community, of which a select few were on the list. With Minnesota banks ending the transferring and routing of money to Somalia, Havens suspected that Chicago ethnic communities would pick up the new business of informal value transfers in their back office hawala remittance system. Their incited or planted attacks would typically be honor based and not well thought out. Such murders were typically one individual carrying out a shooting or knifing, but arson was also a common method of avenging a grievance.

  Havens also tied the assaults to the notion that pedophilia was more acceptable in pockets of Islam. There were reports of attacks on non-Muslim children where well-organized networks of like-minded rapists preyed on pre-pubescent boys and underage white girls. The community of cohesion granted the offenders immunity from prosecution when discovered. In these cases, the offenders were most often Pakistanis and Moroccans, which would also widen the aperture for Havens to work by leveraging the Middle Eastern liquor and convenience store ownership within the various ethnic enclaves where Havens would be targeting gangs. Those ties could be broadened to the Lebanese and Persian communities who had targets on the list for suspected Hezbollah ties with links to illicit free trade zone commerce and funding schemes in Venezuela.

  The trick was to identify catalysts so strong between the differing groups of targets that Havens would luck out and have some random domino effect revenge killings that would taint any potential link to the Activity’s movements. Havens would have to ensure in good conscience that the second and third order effects and unintended consequences would not take out a single innocent.

  With notes strewn all over the table and nearly eighteen hours of straight research, Havens had created his recommended courses of action to cover his human shopping list. What Havens didn’t know was that some of the targets selected would be used to place other groups in power who had the funds, community connections, and access to influence U.S. political elections, while others could be framed to start a domestic conflict for Prescott Draeger and the powers he supported.

  Chapter 39

  A simultaneous doorbell ring and knock at the door startled Havens from his thoughts. Glancing around at all of the notes and printouts strewn across the dining room table, Havens closed the lids to his laptops and scooped up the papers and stuffed it all into the lower kitchen cabinet reserved for a couple of big pots that the Havenses only used for chili, gumbo, and boiling mountains of pasta for family birthday meals.

  Through the peephole Havens recognized the two police officers who had harassed him about Albanians and Greece.

  Not in the mood to deal with these idiots again.

  Havens opened the door. He grimaced at the thought of another round of questions.

  “What do you two chuckleheads want?”

  The two men smiled.

  One said, “We probably deserved that. If you have a minute, we’d like to start over. I am Detective Neil and my partner…”

  “Bob,” Havens interrupted.

  “Kneel and bob, ha ha,” the detective responded stoically. “Daniels, did you hear that? The kneel and bob joke again.”

  “So normally, Mr. Havens, I’d get up in your face when I am trying to extend an olive branch and it’s shoved back in my face, but really, we could use your help and would like to take a much more collaborative approach this time where my partner, Detective Daniels, and I don’t play the slapstick Mutt and Jeff routine and work with you as a professional.”

  “Can we come in for a moment, Mr. Havens?”

  “Did you catch the Albanians?”

  “Look, Mr. Havens, we came at you with a little game that we used to play when we were deployed overseas together in our reserve unit. Sometimes it works here, sometimes it doesn’t. We really don’t think Albanians or street gangs had any involvement in this. We have a lead on the guy who attacked your daughter and Lars spiraled out the window. Doesn’t make sense. Sure, he had been involved with sexual assault and stalking, but he was too hot and cold. He was never involved in drugs and I can’t see him making contact with street gangs to put out a hit on your family. Too many mutually exclusive parts that don’t connect well with daily life around this city. Pattern of life for these events won’t add up unless you force them.”

  Surprised at this approach and at their new demeanor, Havens invited them in. He led them to the kitchen and offered some coffee still hot and fresh in the pot.

  “You know, Mr. Havens that Keurig coffeemaker you have does the same thing by the cup. You must really like coffee. How you been holding up?”

  “Yeah, I used up all the cups and haven’t
gone to the store. My wife used to order them online, but as the man of the house I am a bit lost now that I really am the man of the house. I just keep walking around in here fixing up things a bit.”

  “I hear you, Mr. Havens. We are again very sorry for your loss. How is your daughter doing?”

  “She’s hanging in there. I have to head over a bit later to check in. Thanks for asking. So, while I’d like to know what you are doing here, I’d also be interested in where you were in Iraq or Afghanistan.”

  Daniels jumped in to answer the question while pouring a cup of coffee and handing it to his partner before pouring his own. “I was SF tasked to do CT, but had to do COIN. Sorry, I forgot you’re a business guy. I was Special Forces tasked to do some counterterror work in Iraq. I ended up doing counterinsurgency and was assigned to a taskforce with this jarhead who was a reservist up in Michigan. We did Fallujah and then got a call from the powers that be that they needed some more guys to collect intel and who could survive in isolated areas. We were sent to Kunar and Nuristan in northeast Afghanistan. Special…”

  Havens interrupted. Something was off. “From what I have read in the papers, that area was an awfully violent and rugged area for two detectives to be running around while on reserve duty. I mean no disrespect but…”

  “Yeah, well we are leaving out some of the details so we didn’t bore you, but suffice it to say, we both were deemed as capable of dealing with the feuding clans, understanding the long history of fighting outsiders, and how insurgents move freely with the help of many local allies.” Neil gave his partner a knowing wink. “Probably something an accountant wouldn’t know much about.”

  “Oh, speaking of which,” Neil added, “we need to figure out what to do with that dog.”

  “Shit. You’re right.”

  “Whoa.” Havens was struggling with the situation. He held up a hand. They knew something. “What’s going on here?”

  “Whattayamean?” Detective Daniels had a smile across his face protesting innocence like a sibling caught picking on his younger brother. “Want a dog?”

  “No, I don’t want a dog. I just got rid of some pets.” He paused. “What kind of dog?”

  “Belgian Malinois rescue dog. Still gun shy from Afghanistan.”

  “I don’t care about the dog.”

  “You just asked about the dog. Getting frustrated, Mr. Havens? Sarandui ta khaber warkri?”

  “What did you just say?” Stay in character, Havens. They are baiting you, asking if you want to call the police in Pashto. They know something.

  “Ah for geez sake, let him off the hook before we both end up in the hospital.”

  “Fine.”

  “Sorry. Just meaning we know you can be a badass. Havens, Detective Neil used to work with some folks you used to do some work for. He had seen your picture in a file before at a particular compound and heard of some of your exploits.”

  “Dick, that would be classified,” Neil scolded his partner. “I told you that in confidence.”

  “Is it worse to violate your compartmented read-on or that I told a secret? Confidence doesn’t meet your DSS obligations.” Detective Daniels turned to Havens, “Sure you don’t want a dog?”

  “Enough! What do you want?”

  “Fine. I’ll come clean. I knew your name the first time I read it in the reports. It was confirmed once I also saw that you were connected to Red Peterson whose name I saw on a report notation in the station. Since I didn’t know much about you, we had to see how you stood up to the travel cover that you were no doubt using. I was a detective before joining the Army then took up a job here when I got out. Even though I wasn’t privy to the work you were doing with a particular squadron, loose lips still made you a bit of a legend. Not many Clark Griswolds roll with our kind and can make us look like a couple of pussies. I know some of the shit that you’ve done. I certainly know of Red and the teams that he was on. It’s two and two math.”

  “So you just came by here to play the name drop game with me or what?” Havens got up and poured himself more coffee to keep busy.

  “No. I played the name drop game so you know we are still working your case and that the shit doesn’t smell right. CPD is still on it, and you need to know we are personally handling it since our fear is there is some evil shit that could be on your proverbial shoe.”

  “And why do you say that, detective?”

  “As they say on TV, it just doesn’t add up. And the circle of events that surrounded the attack with you as a primary objective spinning down to no one to question, dead ends, and more dead ends with the look of everyday random or half-assed planned violence but with a degree of backstopping that kills trails? Frankly, Mr. Havens, it’s the kind of shit you or…shall we say…your likely former associates—who do not officially exist—might do.”

  And what I am doing now. Good point.

  Havens sat and said nothing for a while. For such a small community, it could be so big sometimes. No attribution was supposed to mean no one would know. So how do people know? People talk. And people who like to keep secrets and compartmentalize their activities and personal lives hate talk. Was there more to this?

  “How would you guys know I would understand Pashto? It isn’t in my records.”

  “I guessed.”

  “And where does this dog fit in?”

  “It doesn’t. We told someone who couldn’t take care of it any longer that we would ask around the station to see if someone would tend to a furry retired soldier. Had no intention of mentioning it to you, but for a second there it struck me that you could probably use a friend. At the very least a distraction. But you seem like a decent enough guy and that distraction would turn into a kinship. You look like a dog guy. Plenty of room in the backyard.”

  “That’s a pretty big dog. They also have quite a spirit and I am not going to just leave a dog like that around in the house all day.”

  “Actually, well she is huge, but she has some non-physical war wounds and doesn’t do much. Likes to go for a walk every now and again but only in the morning when it is light and there are not many people around. Pretty much happy with just a place to sleep and a pat on the head every now and again. Good dog, but the owner is moving to an apartment. The dog was used to rolling around in the sandbox and being in a crate most of the time. Seen some bad shit too.”

  “I can’t deal with a dog right now. Tell me more about your hunches on what happened here. Does my brother-in-law know any of this?”

  The two men looked at each other. “Told you.”

  “Mr. Havens…”

  “Sean is fine.”

  “Sean, your brother-in-law is a great guy, but he is too close to this and he’s already breathing down people’s necks.”

  “Well that’s good, right? For chrissake, it was his sister.”

  “Yeaah,” Neil responded, dragging the word out. “But he is more interested in trying to direct us where to go and where not to go.”

  “I don’t see the issue. He is a brilliant criminologist.”

  “That’s the point. Some of his direction…He’s all over the place these days. Asking questions, getting his nose in other people’s cases. Looking at past evidence.”

  “Re-direction is what it feels like,” Daniels interjected.

  “Right, re-direction.”

  “Guys, what are you implying?”

  “We are not implying anything. We are just saying he is being a pain in the ass and it isn’t helping us. It would be good to maybe not mention we were here. We are on your side and just wanted to say we are on it. If there is anything that comes to mind which would help us or make sure nothing else happens…”

  “OK.”

  The men nodded.

  Havens rose. “Look guys, I appreciate you coming by. I really want to get to the hospital and have some other things I have to do.”

  “You have our cards?”

  “No, I threw them out. Do you have another?”

  “Sure
.” The detectives handed Havens their cards again. He regarded them as if the names should mean something now, but nothing came. He tucked them in his back pocket.

  “You sure you don’t want a dog? Might keep you out of trouble. You don’t happen to know anything about two charred bodies?”

  I knew that we should have covered them ourselves.

  “Heard something on the news about it. I heard there was some rival gang stuff trying to add insult to injury on those guys. They were the same ones who were in my house right?”

  “I’d have to check, Mr. Havens. It’s not on our radar. CPD isn’t pursuing it at all. They buried those guys to avoid more vandalism. Family decided on unmarked graves too now. Looks like they were just erased from this world. Suppose what goes around comes around.”

  “Suppose so.”

  Daniels walked to the door and turned around. “Alright, brother, call us if you need anything.” Daniels reached out his hand in an upwards motion for a hand clasp.

  Havens looked at the extended hand and glared icily into Daniel’s eyes, hands still at his sides. “I’m not your brother, detective. Thank you for coming by. I will call if I need anything or if I have something I think you can use.”

  He shut the door behind them as soon as they hit the stoop.

  “So how do you think that played?”

  “Fine until you did the brother shit.”

  “Yeah, well I thought we were all good, knowing we are all on the same team and had served.”

  “Havens serves those who serve. He doesn’t fit in with us. He is an anomaly. He doesn’t fit in anywhere. The guy pretends to be a business guy, but really doesn’t embrace the commercial community. He supports the military, but would prefer to be away from the military apparatus. He turns it on and turns it off. Guy is a fuckin’ chameleon robot. I actually feel sorry for him. A guy like that needs a wife that will leave him alone and deal with his shit, no questions asked. He’s got none of that now and he probably is really struggling with who he is and what he does. The man wants to be left alone on his own terms and now that he really is alone, it probably scares the shit out of him. But I’ll tell you what, you should hear of the shit he has done. Can’t ever take that away from him, but he doesn’t wear it on his sleeve. He just does it and puts it behind him. If he was real military, he’d have a full breast of metal on his uniform.”