Encountering Evil: Dark Horse Guardians Book Two

by Armstrong, Ava

  As he listened to the gun battle play out, Ben's focus was on Bettencourt. He tried to assess the damage and held the big former SEAL in his arms, "Hang in there, Bett. It's gonna be all right." A paramedic arrived to slide the big man into the ambulance and Ben followed them to the hospital. In the emergency room it was discovered that Bettencourt had a broken rib, a concussion, a broken nose and lots of internal bleeding. The bastards had kicked him so much he was urinating blood. The emergency room doc said they needed to keep him for observation for at least a few days, maybe longer. Ben phoned Lara and told her why Bettencourt did not show up at the restaurant. She immediately started crying. With a shaky voice she said she and Monique would be at the hospital as soon as possible.

  Ben steeled himself against the emotions rushing through him, but outwardly he remained calm. However, a nagging thought kept running through the back of his mind. Although he thought he wanted Lara to be involved with his black-ops missions, he was now hesitant about the idea. If he involved Lara in his Dark Horse world he would put her in harm's way and could not bear the thought of anything happening to her. He was having enough trouble watching Bettencourt suffer such retribution. The people they were hunting were also hunting them. Black-ops was danger on steroids. He wondered if he could function at his highest level if he was worried about her safety. This work was not for normal people. Ben realized it would take a unique set of skills to murder evil bastards and walk away with a clear conscience. She had done it once, but would he want her to take on this burden and the dark unforgiving world that came with it? Ben leaned over Bettencourt and whispered, “Hang in there, bro.”

  ~ Ali Farouz ~

  The infidels had thwarted him again, but he would have the last laugh. Five of his men were now dead and he blamed Randall Bettencourt for it. But there were more where they came from. The Americans were so stupid. Did they think he only had five to sacrifice? There were hundreds of thousands volunteering to do this work and many of them were Americans. In spite of the bad news about his men being killed, he smiled to himself. They were with Allah now dancing with virgins, just like he did whenever he wanted to. He knew the pleasures the dead men were savoring now with the naked women touching them and doing impure things to excite them. But as a sheikh he had these special privileges in this world. He enjoyed the virgins now before death and he had sex with them on a regular basis. His favorites were the girls of twelve or thirteen that he could easily dominate. They had no education except for lessons taught by their mothers. At first they were compliant but later realized the honor bestowed upon them. By having his children these women were bound to him. Only then did the girls understand their destiny, and they fought amongst themselves to procreate with him. At last count, Farouz had 59 children and 17 wives but was still seeking more young girls to sow his seed with. He would not be happy until he had 100 children. Meanwhile, the idiots in America were aborting their unborn babies by the millions, yet they claimed to value life. The stupid Americans did not understand the ways of Radical Islam. Soon, with the prolific breeding of his tribes, Radical Islam would dominate the world with sheer numbers.

  Nor did Americans understand strict fundamentalist Islamic law and the duties of a father. These ugly American pigs did not understand honor. Nadia was still somewhere in Maine kidnapped from him. He was her father. She belonged to him. Nadia was his property. He knew it was a mistake not to have her genitals altered to remove that which gave her pleasure. Nadia would not want Western men to touch her if he had forced the procedure to be done several years ago. He was advised by the elders to arrange it, but too many people got in the way. Once he got Nadia back, he would arrange to have the procedure done immediately. He owned her. Why did this infidel policeman take her away? With more determination than ever he called more of his henchmen. "This Officer Bettencourt is in the Portland hospital. Go there and kill him tonight. I don't care how you do it, but I want his head severed and brought to me on a platter." He hung up the phone. Soon he would show them all how much power he could wield.

  In Ali Farouz's mind, the United States of America was going to fade from existence and would be replaced with the United Islamic State of America (UISA). It was part of the master plan. He was the head of the Muslims of Peace, a powerful and wealthy organization funded by the soft-hearted American people he would overthrow. Ha! How many adversaries in history had been this naïve, to actually fund their enemy? He knew of none. Even the Greeks were smarter than this. The Visigoths, the Vandals, the Barbarians, and his tribe, the Persians from the Ottoman Empire; they all fought with tactics that were barbaric but got the job done. The Americans would be undone through their own sympathy and kindness.

  With his vast fortune from the Muslims of Peace (MOP), he was filling the bank accounts of sympathetic politicians so that more of his people could flood into America and set up strictly Islamic compounds. His theocratic clan would take over every city, every town, and every school one by one. The plan was taking place right before the eyes of the Americans and they were either too blind or too stupid to see it. It was more beautiful than one could imagine. Americans donating money for their own demise! Elections that put the very politicians he hired into power so he could use them as puppets. Meanwhile, these foolish Americans were arguing over whether or not the CIA had "black sites" and whether or not their own military roughed up terrorist suspects by water-boarding them. The American fools fought with rules of engagement, believing it brought them honor. Farouz laughed to himself. Who would win this war: the side fighting with stealth guerilla tactics or the side with gentrified outdated rules of engagement? The Americans were so stupid. They were holding their own military back, giving terrorists real trials with lawyers provided with American taxpayer dollars. It was too ironic to believe!

  ~ Lara ~

  Lara looked into Randall Bettencourt's soft brown eye; only one eye was open. The other was swollen shut and black and blue. He was on painkillers through an intravenous drip and she took his free hand and clutched it gently. "Oh Bett, I'm so sorry this happened. I told you to save Nadia. And you did it for me. I feel responsible for this whole thing. Oh, Bett, forgive me." Lara was pleading with him. She saw a sardonic little smile playing on his lips and his soft brown eye closed as he fell back into slumber. Suppressing tears, Lara's fingers swept over his hair as she whispered, "It will be all right, Bett. It will be all right."

  His six-foot-four body seemed massive beneath the white sheet. Lara never noticed how big his feet were until she viewed them from this angle dangling off the end of the hospital bed. Examining the tattoos on Bettencourt's arms she slipped the sheet back and studied the one on his chest which was the perfect image of the Navy SEAL Trident. Ben pulled her gently away. "He'll be all right now, Lara. He needs to sleep for a little while. It was rough." Lara stood and Ben embraced her tightly. "That was too close for comfort." he whispered in her ear. Lara choked on her words, "I don't want to leave him here alone…" Ben's eyes met hers. You know they're coming for him, don't you?" I didn't want you to be involved in this. They'll come for you, too. The terrorists don't know who I am; they haven't seen me. And, they haven't seen you yet either. But you've got to get out of here. I've ordered security for Bettencourt so there won't be any other incidents. They're on the way. I’ll stay here with Bettencourt until they arrive. You need to leave."

  The hour was late. Lara moved close to Bettencourt and ran her fingers through his thick brown hair once again and kissed his cheek lovingly. Lara knew her husband was right. She had to leave. As she approached Monique sitting in the waiting room, Lara realized her young intern was filled with concern. Lara embraced Monique and whispered comforting words, "He's in good hands here, don't worry. Ben's staying until the security detail arrives. Let's go home." Lara drove Monique home and went to the condo to wait for Ben. Although it was late and she was exhausted, she could not think of sleep. The image of Bettencourt’s swollen beaten face remained in her mind.

  ~ Ben ~<
br />
  The police department rounded up two guys to guard Bettencourt and they were due to arrive by 1:00 AM. Ben told the police he wouldn't leave until they arrived. After Lara left the room Bettencourt opened his one good eye. Ben leaned over him and placed the loaded service weapon in his hand, "Are you ready? You know they're coming…" Ben felt his hackles rising and his demeanor was serious, "Let me kill them, Bett. I owe you at least that." Before Bettencourt could answer, Ben heard footsteps shuffling on the floor in the hallway and he knew they were different than the nurse’s or any other hospital personnel. And they weren’t the footsteps of police officers. He flattened himself to the wall beside the door.

  Dressed in black with faces wrapped, two men with guns drawn barely had the chance to enter Bettencourt's room. With precision, Ben placed a bullet in each man's head. As the muffled shots rang out, both men dropped instantly. Quickly disabling the security camera for a moment, Ben poked his head into the hallway. The two bodies were slumped, one atop the other in Bettencourt's room. No one seemed to hear the popping sounds his silencer made. He swapped guns with Bettencourt and the officer smiled up at him. Within a few minutes, Ben heard officers' boots clacking on the hall floor down by the elevator. Soon, the place would be crawling with police and Ben slipped out through the service entrance where the trash was collected. When they checked Bettencourt's weapon, the police would assume Bettencourt shot both of the terrorists in self-defense.

  The next morning's newscast mentioned the shooting at the hospital and how the brave police officer lying in his bed shot two killers in self-defense. There was no mention of how or why he had his service weapon in the hospital with him. Ben knew the officers in charge of the self-defense shooting would not bring up that question. It was a justified shooting, plain and simple. And, there was no mention as to the reason the killers were hunting Bettencourt. That would be conjecture on the news outlet's part. Plus, they couldn't tell the truth. It would be too alarming for the public to digest.

  When Ben arrived home, Lara was watching television on the sofa. She rose and hugged him tightly. "Oh Ben, I'm so worried about Bettencourt." Ben held her and noticed her heart rate was elevated and she had been crying. He whispered, "Are you okay?" Lara nodded and spoke softly, "Oh Ben, he was so brave." Ben was every bit as concerned as Lara, but didn't want to alarm her. He was quiet for a moment then said, "He'll be all right, for now. I'll keep an eye on him. But more importantly, I’m going to kill the son-of-a-bitch that did this to Bett.”

  ~ Bettencourt ~

  Bettencourt was healing and there was police protection around the clock while he was hospitalized. Ben, Lara and Monique checked in on him daily. Bettencourt was pleased that Lara was preoccupied with setting up the bungalow for her new business. She brought photos of furnishings to show him in the hospital and made him laugh. Her visits became a pleasant distraction. Often Monique would join them. He knew nothing about decorating a place but he loved the way Monique’s face lit up when she explained every little detail to him. Her excitement was contagious and he felt energized by her visits.

  Eventually he was allowed to leave the hospital and get back to his dreary one-bedroom apartment. Monique and Lara made a welcome home banner and cleaned his apartment. They also left a few homemade meals in the freezer for him. Lasagna, frozen Salmon, and meatloaf now resided in his freezer alongside some lonely ice cubes. Their kind attention made him realize more than ever how much he missed having a woman in his life. He would have two weeks off but planned to return to duty sooner rather than later. In the meantime, Monique and Lara took it upon themselves to become his nannies and Bettencourt did not discourage them. In fact, he loved being showered with female attention.

  Everywhere Bettencourt went he wore body armor and plain clothes policemen followed. Lara informed Bettencourt that he would accompany Monique on a shopping trip while she made the rounds with the contractors. He was secretly thrilled with the idea of spending an entire day with Monique. The cute little blonde had visited him often while he was healing and her company improved his mood. She had a great sense of humor and always made him laugh. As he gazed out of the third floor apartment in his ratty neighborhood, he saw Monique pull up in a Mini-Cooper out front. Damn, would all six-foot-four of him fit in that thing?

  When she arrived at his apartment door he opened it before she knocked, "Hi Monique, would you be okay with me taking the truck?" She was concerned about him driving so soon but he said he could. So, he watched as Monique skipped down the three flights of stairs and hopped into the front seat of his 2007 Ford pick-up. Shame swept over him as he realized what a mess his truck was. There were wrappers from fast food, tools, and other items strewn about the cab. Within a few minutes he had it cleared out. "I apologize for this mess…" he said as his soft brown eyes met Monique's. For the first time he did not think of Ellen or the Dear John letter. All that occupied his mind for the moment was the lovely blonde girl sitting in the cab of his pick-up truck. Plain clothes officers trailed behind and Bettencourt was painfully aware of their presence.

  His eyes were on Monique when she wasn't looking and she was a vision in the simple black pants and sleeveless blue top with some wild jewelry. The blue in her shirt brought out the blue in her beautiful eyes, as if they needed any enhancement. Her blonde hair was shoulder length and parted on the side. Occasionally, she'd push her hair aside in a feminine way that endeared her to him. The aroma of her perfume filled the cab of the truck and he wondered what the name of it was. The warmth of the summer day made him notice it even more. His truck never smelled so good.

  Their first stop was a salvage place filled with second hand furniture and beautiful antiques. Bettencourt trailed along behind Monique observing her petite figure in the black pants that hugged her curves just enough to intrigue him. He pretended to be interested in the items she was pointing out. But it was difficult for him to concentrate on anything but Monique. He hadn't been with a woman like this for a long time, too long. It felt almost as if they were a couple, but he knew that was wishful thinking. But for a moment he allowed himself to wonder what it might be like to really be with Monique. Take out dinners in his apartment while he was recuperating was the closest he had gotten to her so far. He had a difficult time falling asleep since the kidnapping and beating. He wondered if having Monique around more could help that situation.

  "What do you think of this piece?" Monique quizzed him. Bettencourt smiled, "I love it. It's beautiful…" Monique laughed when he said the word "love"…maybe because that wasn't his usual manner of speaking. "How about this?" she asked touching a perfectly good bench, slightly worn with age. "Beautiful…" he said. He was standing close to her now and they were alone. "Monique, if I asked you to come over tonight, would you think I was being too forward?" He noticed she became still for a moment before she responded. "No, you're not too forward and yes, I would come over." He felt so close to her now he wanted to tell her everything. "I'm having problems sleeping. I'm wondering if you'd consider staying the night. I'll be a gentleman. I promise I won't do anything that you don't want me to do." As soon as he said it, regret swept over him. He saw her face flush red. But he couldn't help himself, "I'm sorry if I offended you." Monique lowered her eyes to the floor for a moment. When her blue eyes met his, he felt his heart pounding and his palms were sweaty. "It’s okay, Bett. You didn't offend me. I enjoy being with you and I'll spend the night at your place. I trust you."

  They quickly moved along to other items and Bettencourt watched as Monique tagged each one with a sticky note to be delivered to Lara's bungalow office. She found the perfect vintage kitchen table and chairs. Everything Monique chose for the bungalow was approved via an iPhone picture to Lara. If she got the thumbs up, she'd tag it for delivery. "One more stop." Monique chimed as she climbed into the truck cab. He was so pleased that she had said yes to sleeping over tonight he could hardly think straight. "Where to?" he asked obediently. "I need a new sofa and a couple of chairs." And, I am
taking you to lunch for helping me today. She gave him the address and he drove there. As Bettencourt listened to her he realized she was intelligent, friendly, warm and full of life. He sensed that Monique was shy and surmised he would need to proceed slowly to get to know her. She cared for him. He knew it. And Randall Bettencourt suddenly felt grateful that Lara had played match-maker.

  ~ Ben ~

  Ben knew it was only a matter of time before Ali Farouz sent more of his goons to work over Bettencourt and he was laying low waiting for them to arrive. He had Bettencourt's tiny apartment filled with the latest high-tech listening devices and hidden cameras. He also worked with Bettencourt to install an elaborate security system. Weaponry was hidden all over the apartment, from high grade pepper spray to loaded HK's with grenade launchers. Plenty of precautions were taken as to the routes Bettencourt took to and from his apartment. Thus far, the last few days were without incident. But Ben realized the sooner they moved Nadia out of the area, the better chance she would have to remain alive. He made arrangements to have her sent to a family in Rhode Island and she was given a new identity. Ben had a long conversation with the young daughter of Ali Farouz. Nadia realized this was her only chance to stay alive and she embraced the plan that would secure her freedom. Paperwork was moving quickly through the court system to legalize her emancipation.

  Every night for the past two weeks Ben had monitored Bettencourt's apartment via a wireless connection on his phone. Thus, he could view everything taking place in the apartment, in the hallway, and even had an aerial view of the building. After dinner with Lara, Ben settled on the sofa with her. As she leaned against his chest he popped up the video on his phone and was a bit shocked to see Monique in Bettencourt’s apartment. It wasn't just dinner and a kiss goodbye. He started laughing uncontrollably as he watched his good friend peel every piece of clothing off Monique's sweet young body and slowly begin to make mad passionate love to her! Ben looked away from the images on his screen feeling as if he was intruding. He really didn't want to view this and decided it would be wise to switch the video off and leave the alarm activated.