Meanwhile, Bettencourt heard through back-channels that Nadia was doing well in Rhode Island and he shared this information in a conversation with Lara. All he could tell her was the family she was now living with helped her tremendously. She was finishing her last year of high school and thriving. Her starved and beaten body needed months to recuperate, but at least she was improving. He didn't regret the intervention. Bettencourt knew he probably saved Nadia’s life.
Monique had been a tremendous help to Bettencourt and he was thankful for her company. There were many nights she invited him to her parent's home and he would sit on the back porch talking with her. He was still followed everywhere by a plain clothes detective in case anything happened. It was a strange way to live. It was as if he was back in Iraq or Afghanistan watching his back every minute of every day. Police work was dangerous enough without being hunted by a terrorist. The police department offered to transfer him out of the area for a period of time and he was considering the offer. There was an opening at the Falmouth Police Department and he had scheduled an interview with the chief there tomorrow. He was also thinking of assuming a new identity when he made the move. It would be a pain in the ass, but once it was done, it would be much more difficult for Farouz’s men to find him.
~ Ben ~
Returning to Portland, the first order of business for Ben was to check in with Bettencourt. He was pleased he moved out of the seedy apartment in the bowels of Portland. The move took place in the middle of the night with an unmarked moving van and Ben checked the security system in the new place. Ben also noticed signs of Monique staying there. Lipstick, body creams and other feminine items were strewn about the place and Ben smiled to himself. Bettencourt had been a lonely man for at least two years. He was happy that his friend had finally gotten into a relationship with a caring woman. This would cut down on the time he was spending drowning his sorrows at local taverns or nursing a six-pack alone on his sofa.
Knowing that Bettencourt was a marked man, Ben was reluctant to get him involved with Lara's move to Clearwater Farm. Lara was now packing up personal items for the movers and purchasing furniture to be delivered to the house. Ben did not want to burden Bettencourt with more responsibility, nor did he want to put Lara in harm's way. Ben had tracked Ali Farouz to the Boston area and was getting an exact location on him. Preparing to insert himself into the compound outside of Springfield absorbed all of his attention once he returned home.
Packing his kit for the trip to Massachusetts was a daunting task. Ben had to appear as Doctor Malem Hadad. He could take no weapons into the compound with him, which made him feel vulnerable. But once inside he figured Habib would help him gain access to whatever he needed. He thoughtfully selected books written in Arabic and specific scientific items suited to his trade. His beard was thick and longer now and he wore spectacles. He put together garb that would match that of a Pakistani doctor. He planned to arrive at the compound late in the day. First he wanted to say goodbye to Lara. For the past few days she had been busily visiting her renovation projects and problem-solving, as usual. Ben was thankful she would be distracted with running her business to take her mind off him. But he knew she'd be filled with angst while he was away and he could not communicate with her. She wasn't the only one who would be filled with angst; Ben was already contemplating six long weeks without being able to hold the one person he cherished more than life itself. His mood on the outside appeared bright and cheerful, but inside his heart was breaking.
~ Lara ~
Arriving home Lara was fully aware this was the night that Ben was leaving to go to Massachusetts for his lengthy and dangerous mission. She had watched the days on her calendar and dreaded this night. Both eager for the daunting task to be over yet reluctant to see him drive away, Lara was filled with raw fear for Ben's life. She sensed he was nervous about the upcoming mission but he never spoke about his doubts with her. As she pulled into the driveway, she noticed Ben's rental car had a Massachusetts plate. She saw him in the driveway putting a few items into the back of the vehicle. She couldn't contain herself as she scrambled out of the Fiat and instantly embraced him. She didn't want him to see her filled with emotion, so she asked about dinner, "Will you have something to eat before you leave?" As Ben pulled away he cupped her face in his broad hands. Without saying a word, she knew the answer. He was leaving right away. Mundane things like dinner or talking had already been put aside. He was in warrior mode.
This was one of the things about Ben that she had learned to accept. There were moments like this when he could flip a switch and seemingly shut down all emotion. It was something he did that she found fascinating but could not fully comprehend. His blue eyes were vacant and she sensed he did not want a long goodbye. He whispered to her, "Lara, I've got to leave now. Darlin', I love you. Please don't worry. I know what I'm doing. Someone has to take care of this and I want to do it." Then he sweetly kissed her lips and touched her hair and he was gone. She bravely waved goodbye and marched up the staircase to the apartment now so empty with Ben not in it. As she sank to the floor crying, Einstein plunked his head into her lap in an attempt to soothe her. Lara sobbed to the point of exhaustion and the dog just cuddled closer until his entire bull dog body was in her lap. She looked into Einstein’s eyes and imagined he felt the same loneliness. She rubbed his ears and said, “I love you, too.” His tail wagged just a little.
~ Ben ~
This was the most difficult parting for Ben, leaving Lara in the driveway as he did, unable to express his deep feelings to her. But he reasoned it wouldn't have done any good to suffer through a lingering goodbye. If he told her he was filled with rage when he thought about the terror cell living in the compound committing heinous act and planning terror plots on innocent Americans, it wouldn't have served any purpose. He focused on the drive to Logan airport now and sent a text to Habib to pick him up there. He had fake airplane ticket stubs in his gear knowing it would be thoroughly searched. Habib, his insider, would walk him through the plan and he would have immediate access to the lab where the anthrax was stored. A week earlier, he had sent a package to Habib to pick-up at UPS. The courier did not deliver at the compound. No visitors came or went without elaborate scrutiny.
Logan airport, a city unto itself, was crawling with people coming and going. Ben parked the rental car and paid for two months and got swallowed up in the crowd. Now in his Pakistani doctor's clothing, he collected his bags and walked toward the cab area crammed with arriving visitors. Standing against the glass and steel of the building, he waited patiently until he saw Habib's vehicle, an old red Chevy Blazer, as it pulled up to the curb. The two men embraced and spoke Arabic to one another and Ben quickly loaded his few items into the SUV and got into the front passenger seat.
Once outside of the snarled traffic of the airport, Ben swept the vehicle for listening devices. It was always a precaution for him and Habib understood. Finally, they spoke freely. Ben asked, "Did you get the package?" Habib said, "Yes. Everything is ready for your arrival. Ali Farouz is eager to meet you. Your reputation precedes you. Apparently, a man named Abdul Kahn in Pakistan gave you an exceptional recommendation and Ali Farouz is impressed." Ben smiled briefly and the two men laughed, but it was a nervous laugh. Ben knew if he was made, it would mean certain death. He focused on his acting skills. “How do I look?” Ben asked Habib. With eyes like black olives fringed with the darkest eyelashes, Habib scanned Ben quickly. “You look exactly like a Pakistani doctor to me!” Ben ran through the specifics of entering and leaving the compound. Habib was a treasure trove of information and explained many details to Ben during the drive from the airport.
Arriving at the compound, Ben realized just how walled off the place truly was. About thirty-five acres, it contained four drilled wells and four septic systems, a general store with items like camel and goat meat and other Middle-eastern treats. Double-wide trailers were wedged into lines along each side parallel to one another. There was no grass or landscap
ing other than dirt. A cinderblock building contained a community center that housed a simple cafeteria-type kitchen where the women prepared bread and other portable meals for themselves and the children. Habib explained, “The men are served their meals separately in a large meeting room connected to the mosque. Beneath the mosque there’s a bunker filled with every type of explosive known to man, and a wide array of weapons from MK’s to RPG’s and shotguns. All of the men carry weapons twenty-four hours a day. Be careful, doctor.” Habib pointed out the enforcers right away and warned Ben about them. “These men have hair-trigger tempers and shoot people if their wishes are not carried out. Watch yourself around them. You never know what might set them off.”
Habib explained the basics of sharia law, which Ben was familiar with from his time in the Middle East for a decade. As the Chevy Blazer continued driving through the property to the mosque building at the far end, Ben noticed toddlers and pre-teens as they played in yards filled with gravel that had turned to mud with the recent rain. Almost all of the inhabitants were darker skinned immigrants and none of them spoke English except for the men who ran the compound. Habib continued his description of the occupants of the compound, “The women living here were kidnapped from war-torn countries. They are basically sex slaves. Although most of them are from Egypt, many are from Syria, Libya, Afghanistan, Yemen, and Pakistan. The women and children are not allowed to read anything except that which is provided to them, the holy book. There is no formal schooling except for prayer and learning to do chores around the compound. The children are basically used as slave labor. The men running this place do not marry the women formerly but claim them by impregnating them repeatedly. Some of the men have seven or eight wives and twenty children. The sanitary conditions here are sub-par, as you will see, and there is a make-shift medical clinic that leaves much to be desired.” Ben also learned from Habib that one of his tasks while at the compound would be to perform medical examinations of the women and children, as there was currently an outbreak of whooping cough and head lice. Habib turned to Ben with a serious gaze, “We are here, Doctor Malem. That is what they will call you.”
Ben, now Doctor Malem Hadad, exited the vehicle and the intense scrutiny began. It took an hour to get through the elaborate security procedure. His bags and person were searched methodically by six men. The guards found American cigarettes tied with a red ribbon in Ben's gear and were delighted. Ben spoke to them in their tribal dialect of Pashto, "Those are a gift for you…" The men eagerly scooped the cigarettes up. One man with tattoos and hooded dark eyes looked at his paperwork with a task light and a magnifying glass. Another small man with a mustache and calloused hands practically performed a body cavity search upon his person. Habib said, "You will now come with me, Doctor Malem. I will take you to your quarters. It is a trailer at the far end of the compound."
As Ben rode through the property he felt as if he was back in a small Iraqi town. Women garbed in colorful hijabs were hanging laundry on clotheslines while groups of children played in the yard. There were ramshackle toys everywhere and the women huddled together as they noticed Ben's arrival. He nodded to them as the Chevy slowly drove past. The scene was one of poverty and subjugation. There were hundreds of women and children living in the compound and the hygienic standards were those of a third-world country. If Ben took photographs and showed them to average Americans, they'd think they were photographs of Pakistan or Iraq or Afghanistan. They would not identify this as an American scene.
Habib brought Ben to the trailer at the far end of the property and waited patiently while he went through the place thoroughly inspecting for listening devices or any other surprises. Once Ben finished, Habib explained a few things, "As you know, the men in this culture are protective of their women. They do not want their women talking to a man. The females huddle together and care of the children. They cook and clean. Their sole existence is to bear children and take care of the men. You are probably already aware of this, but do not speak to the women or make eye contact with them." Ben nodded, "I am familiar with this way of life."
Habib brought Ben a small meal and sat with him for two hours, speaking freely, "You will sleep tonight. Tomorrow you will meet with Ali Farouz and his top men. You will have a tour of our laboratory. Here is the package from UPS. Get your rest, you will need it. The food here is awful. I will try to get some provisions that are more to your liking. I have a few contacts on the outside." Habib told Ben he was hand-picked by Ali Farouz to be his tour guide and assistant while he was there. Ben thanked him for the tour of the compound and all of his help. Exhausted, he turned in for the night.
Once alone in his trailer, Ben used the secure satellite phone to text a code to his men. Dark Horse Guardians were working around the clock on the perimeter and had been feeding him information about comings and goings for weeks leading up to his insertion. Elvis, Jake, Tom, Nate and Gus had worked a rotation for many weeks. They had given him plenty of intel when he met with them at the 4th of July cookout at his parent's home. He was already familiar with the routine of the place. He slept fitfully that first night even though he was exhausted.
Habib arrived at his door early the next morning. Ben bathed in the small bathroom in his trailer and Habib brought him a breakfast sandwich made by the women in the community kitchen. Habib was right -- the food was awful, but he could bear it for a few weeks. He needed to lose weight anyhow. He would get some protein shakes and drink plenty of bottled water. Habib took Ben on a tour of the compound in a run-down golf cart. He pointed out the trailers that belonged to the leaders and told him about some of the men, bodyguards to Ali Farouz, who were particularly brutal. "Ali Farouz is waiting for you at the laboratory." Habib told him. "Are you ready to meet him?" Ben nodded, "Yes, bring me to him."
Inside the cinderblock building known as the laboratory, Ali Farouz and six of his bodyguards were waiting. The building had a heating and air conditioning unit and was an upgrade compared to any other structure on the compound. Sweating profusely, the large heavyset Ali Farouz met Ben with the traditional Arabic embrace kissing him on both cheeks and Ben felt he might vomit. Instead, Ben – a.k.a. Doctor Malem – smiled and returned the gesture clasping the hand of Ali Farouz in his, speaking in Pashto and thanking him for the opportunity to be a part of this great experience. After a brief conversation, Ben took a tour of the laboratory with Ali Farouz and two of his bodyguards. Habib trailed along. Farouz didn’t speak in a normal tone of voice. He yelled, “The last scientist died mysteriously. There will be plenty of money at your disposal if you need anything for the Sparrow project. That is the top priority. Understand?” Ben answered with his eyes and simply bowed his head in acknowledgement.
The overweight Farouz had to sit in the back of the air-conditioned building to take a rest. It was then that he shared his vision of the drone attack with Ben, "I want this to be perfect. I don't care how much money it costs or what you need to make it happen. This attack will be better than 9/11 in New York City." The anti-American rant went on for a long while. Ben was playing along, inserting a slur against the Americans when he could. Then, Farouz made a comment that shocked Ben, "Oh, and while you are here, I want you to poison some of the women. There are a few of them who have turned on me. They refuse to have sex and they do not want to bear any more children. They are of no use to me now. Rather than having them shot in the head, I'd rather have a quiet poisoning incident take place. We bury them here on the compound. Some new girls are arriving from Syria, young pretty ones. They will take their place in the line-up." Ben pretended this was no big deal, and quietly said, "Point out the ones you want to get rid of. I will take care of it."
~ Lara ~
Moving day was now upon her and Lara knew she'd be happy when it was over. A box truck backed up to the pink Victorian condo and two men loaded everything she and Ben owned into the truck and she followed it to Clearwater Farm. Bettencourt had been given orders to lay low. So, Lara, with the help of her mother,
Rusty, Don and Olivia Henderson, organized what would now be her new home. Monique and Tony watched over the renovation projects over the weekend while Lara took two days to try to get the move completed.
Items arrived one after another. The new washer and dryer got installed. New furniture came from several different stores and the deliveries seemed to come in rapid succession. Lara guided the deliverymen to the designated room for each piece. Olivia and Don unpacked Ben's extensive cookware collection and Lara's dishes and silverware. Meanwhile, Lara's mother and Rusty unpacked the bathroom items. The one item most coveted arrived late in the day – the new king sized bed. Lara and her mother put fresh sheets on it and then collapsed onto the bed exhausted. "Oh thank you, Mom! I don't know what I would’ve done without you." Lara exhaled. Rusty stood in the doorway, "Hey, no sleeping on the job!"
As the last delivery truck pulled out of the driveway, Lara realized she'd spend the first night alone in her new home. Well, she wasn't really alone – she had Einstein to keep her company. And, tomorrow the alarm system selected by Ben would be installed. She had to be present while that was taking place. She wondered where Ben was now and how he was doing. It would be difficult to fall asleep tonight alone in the big beautiful house. She walked along the private sandy beach with Einstein and tossed the ball for him. As the sun moved toward the horizon, she thought she saw someone in a dinghy on the water. She shaded her eyes and peered at the figure, "Eliot! What are you doing out there?"
Eliot Stone, now her new neighbor, was rowing a dinghy slowly toward her beach. He expertly jumped out barefoot and dragged the tiny boat onto the sand, "Welcome to the neighborhood, Lara! I brought you a little portable dinner…figured you could use it right about now…" He rummaged in the dinghy and produced an old-fashioned picnic basket that contained a bottle of the best French champagne and a gourmet meal prepared by Charles, his talented chef. Lara smiled and gushed, "You are so thoughtful. How did you know I was hungry?” Eliot smiled as he slipped on his boat shoes, “Everyone is tired and hungry at the end of moving day. He slipped his arm around her shoulders, “Come along, beautiful girl. We will sit on the porch and watch the lovely sunset from there.”
Encountering Evil: Dark Horse Guardians Book Two Page 18
