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

by Armstrong, Ava

  HARD MAN TO KILL

  Dark Horse Guardians: Book 4

  (Sequel to “Flawlessly Executed”)

  Written by

  Ava Armstrong

  All rights reserved including the right to

  reproduce this book or portions there in any

  form whatsoever.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  © Copyright

  A dark horse is a little-known person or thing

  that emerges to prominence,

  especially in a competition of some sort

  or a contestant

  that seems unlikely to succeed.

  ~ PROLOGUE ~

  ~Abdul Rahman Shafir~

  Abdul waited patiently for hours in the darkness, crouched in the tall weeds just south of the river. The figure he had been tracking for days stepped out of the safe house, into the darkness on the outskirts of the city of Khost.

  Sweating profusely and shaking, Abdul raised the night vision goggles and focused on the silhouette. Abdul was not certain if the imposing outline was that of Lieutenant Ben Keegan, but he had orders to follow this man if he emerged.

  The first question that ran through his mind was: exactly how do you follow an assassin who stalks his prey for a living? First, don’t let him see you.

  Abdul’s dark skin and black clothing concealed him in the shadows as he tracked the man along the riverbank, barely moving. Abdul's target faced the river and waved his arm once. Abdul observed a boat as it glided soundlessly toward him. The man leapt upon the boat as if he’d done it a thousand times, with athletic precision. The boat moved slowly down the Indus River and out of sight, but he knew it was heading south. Abdul sent a text to Ibrahim giving him the coordinates of the vessel.

  If it was Keegan, Abdul knew this man had been to Pakistan many times, was familiar with the terrain, and had hundreds of contacts. And, it was entirely possible, that if it was Keegan, he knew he was being followed. For three years Abdul heard stories about this ghost, trained as an American Navy SEAL. They said he was unstoppable, but “they” gossiped like women. Abdul and Ibrahim had found a way to stop him. It would not be easy, but anything magnificent never really was. His father had taught him that.

  Abdul hoped he would be the one chosen to slit Keegan’s throat. He was silently thanking Allah for the recent Senate Intelligence Report. Because he could read English proficiently, Abdul had the massive document plopped on his desk by his superior a month earlier. Although only eyes and mouth were visible in the delivery man’s head wrap, Abdul knew the report was sent by his father from a Muslim Fellowship friend in the State Department. This task was of utmost importance, and could propel him to the highest levels of the Islamic state.

  “Find this Keegan,” Salib Madi, his father, spat angrily as he spoke when he met him after finishing with the document. The frustration with Keegan had reached a crescendo. The former Navy SEAL had easily killed over a hundred of their men. And, those were only the ones they knew about. Abdul poured over the American intelligence report and found the name of an informant, Nazmin, a woman in Pakistan. When he brought the information to his father, he was so pleased, Madi allowed Abdul to assist in planning the raid of her home. Abdul helped more experienced fighters decapitate her, then placed her head upon a spit for the rest of the village to see. He worked with the men to kill all of the women and children on her property. He destroyed the safe house the Americans had been lurking in, plotting and planning against his holy jihad. He played the YouTube video over and over. It was his first.

  Abdul spoke in Arabic as they filmed him. “This public act of decapitation serves as a message to the world: this is what happens when you help these American pigs. This will be your fate, unless you submit to Islamic reign.” But the savage acts did not satisfy his father. Salib Madi now wanted the ultimate revenge. Keegan.

  Abdul knew that, eventually, one of Madi's men would capture this Keegan. But he wanted the honor of slitting his throat. His half-brother, Ibrahim, was more interested in the bounty. Either way, Keegan was a walking dead man. They had dedicated their lives to follow him to the ends of the earth if necessary. From what he read in the intelligence report, it might just be necessary.

  One more piece of information gleaned from the report was where Keegan lived in the United States. He taught at a well-known university and lived in a beautiful home on the Atlantic Ocean. This information was buried in the document, but Abdul discovered it and decided to act on his own. He wanted nothing more than to rise to the top. He could only do so if he demonstrated leadership and dedication. Tapping his laptop out of sleep-mode, he sent a tweet to two men already in the United States, waiting for an assignment. Abdul gave them the address and description of Lara Keegan.

  ~ END PROLOGUE ~

  ~ Ben ~

  Early morning was his favorite time to make love. He heard Lara in the bathroom washing her hands and face and knew her habit was to brush her teeth upon rising. But it was too early for her to rise for the day. It was only 4:00. He felt her slip back underneath the sheet and waited as she tugged the heavy blanket over her. He listened as she exhaled and relaxed before rolling toward her. Snuggling up to her backside, he tucked his arm over the curve of her waist so he could pull her to him if she tried to move away.

  He knew Lara loved it when he nestled his body closely behind her like this. She wanted his body heat, but more than that, she loved his touch. Inhaling the scent of her thick dark hair at the nape of her neck excited him. His erection touched the soft skin of her shapely rear, and as it grew, so did the urgency inside of him. The effect she had on him was automatic whenever he was awake, and sometimes when he was asleep. His body flooded with hormones and within seconds he was ready for anything she might want.

  Within a minute she turned to face him, hair askew, lips slightly parted, eyes half-closed. He thought he’d died and gone to heaven. His mouth covered hers, as he moved slightly above her kissing those soft full lips that he craved every minute of every day.

  She was naked and his hand reached around and pulled her firm bottom toward him.

  “Damn, I want you…” he whispered into the crook of her neck, defeated by her feminine powers long ago. Lara giggled and ran her hands through his hair, then he felt one hand behind his head pulling his mouth to hers. Her other hand touched his and guided it slowly between her legs. A shot of adrenaline went through him like a bolt of lightning. This is what he wanted more than anything in the world. The velvet warmth of her kiss shot spirals of ecstasy through him. Touching the wetness between her legs nearly drove him crazy. Raising his mouth from hers, he gazed into Lara’s eyes. As his hand moved, he felt gusts of desire moving through her and watched with fascination as she climaxed.

  Breathing erratically, Lara whispered, “Oh, Ben, I love you.”

  She was now a heady image of fire, passion and love in the dimly lit room. He belonged to her. When she touched him, he ached with desire. She sensed his arousal and stroked him tenderly.

  “Yes,” she whispered over and over.

  After only a few minutes, his need for her grew desperate, frenzied. His hard body moved atop hers, and they linked in a way that was instinctive. Her body arched upward meeting his. He gazed into her eyes with every stroke, and she matched his urgency with her own yearning, wrapping her arms and legs around him, trapping him against her. Pure pleasure moved through him, building, mounting t
o the ultimate peak of arousal. He heard her whimpering and knew she was hitting the peak of desire. Simultaneously, the hot tide of passion ran through both of them as he groaned and she sighed whimpered .

  “Shh—” Lara placed her finger on his lips. “You’ll wake William!”

  Moments later he held her in his arms, “I love you, Lara, more than you can ever imagine.”

  “I love you, Ben,” she sighed. He could feel her heart beating wildly.

  “Happy, darlin?” he whispered.

  “Completely, when I’m with you.” She tucked her head under his chin and ran her hand over his chest. He loved it when she touched his chest. She knew exactly what he liked, every little detail. He inhaled deeply observing her, wanting to hold this image in his memory forever. He would need the image of this perfect moment to keep as a luscious dream cradled in the back of his mind, as he knew he had a long, hard trek ahead of him.

  Thinking back on the past few days, Ben felt he had solidified a bond with his son and with Lara that was resilient. At least he got to spend one Christmas Day at home and discovered the joys of putting up a Christmas tree with his son. Lieutenant Ben Keegan hadn’t known that pleasure since, well, since he could remember. The last time he had a so-called normal Christmas was in the Naval Academy, before he had married his first wife, before William was born. For the last twelve years, Christmas was just another working day. As a Navy SEAL in theater, he’d be lucky to get a piece of turkey in the green zone; if he was on work-ups between tours, sometimes he could get back to see his parents. However, those visits were few and far between, not only because they were difficult to synchronize, but because it was emotional to come home for one or two days. Leaving was heart-breaking, especially when you were unable to discuss what you were doing.

  But this Christmas was different. Today, as he held Lara in his arms, he would carry the pleasant remembrance of this one special Christmas in his pocket, like a touchstone, to pull out once in a while to turn over. It meant so much to him to connect with William. Their relationship was different than the typical father-son, but in some ways much deeper. He vowed after this upcoming mission, he would see more of his son, bring him to Maine in the summer months to go sailing and to vacation at the cottage on Prince Edward Island. It was a vow that he had always made to himself in the past, but a vow that had never stayed intact. Until now. He was certain of it this time.

  Once Moshe contacted Ben about the Guantanamo hunting expedition, the clock in his head started ticking. There was a deadline, and all of his team members were more than happy to participate in the mission. It was as if Ben had invited them to the biggest, badass New Year’s Eve party on the planet. But his men were the type would who take on the Terminator for a six-pack and the promise of a good time. With the addition of Randall Bettencourt to the group, the dynamic would be different. Bettencourt having been a SEAL himself, and a law enforcement officer, gave him a skillset that encompassed multiple disciplines. More importantly, Ben loved and trusted the man. Respect was everything in this profession and Bettencourt had earned it exponentially.

  It had been difficult to say goodbye to William so abruptly, but even more so to Lara. The look in her hazel-green eyes said everything he needed to know. She became reticent, hardened, and he knew she would be crying later. But she kissed him with passion and the taste of her lingered. Her kiss, her dedication to his cause, her love would sustain him while away. She probably had no idea how much having her to come back to meant to him. He couldn’t put it into words. But he planned to show her when he returned. She joked he was her favorite hello. She was his everything.

  Some folks viewing their relationship from the outside might think they were too dependent upon one another. But, from his perspective he knew he’d found his soulmate, as corny as that might sound. Ben felt Lara not only completed him, but that they completed each other. They could barely stand to be apart from each other for more than a day, let alone weeks or months.

  As he sped toward Logan airport in his wreck of a rental vehicle, he thought about Lara and struggled with the guilty feeling of leaving her again so soon. But she got it. When an opportunity like this came up, he had to take it. She was the rare woman who understood that this was his calling. His pulse quickened as he spoke on the Bluetooth to check-in with each team member.

  In record time, he parked his battered Nissan in the long-term garage. He met the team members on the shuttle that took them to the C-130J Hercules waiting on the tarmac at Logan, silently thanking Moshe. The men tossed their gear on the ground and an attendant pulled it all inside the plane. There was no time to waste. The smell of the tarmac, jet fuel and freshly washed laundry was familiar as he boarded. As soon as the pilot found a pocket of free airspace, they were wheels up heading for Hatzor Airbase in Israel. From there they would meld with The Sayeret Matkal Unit for a week-long run-through in a mock-up of the area of operations. The team would train around the clock, utilizing the Dark Horse war gaming software. Ahead were long days and nights putting together the puzzle of intel they had garnered from human intelligence on the ground.

  Once in flight, the chatter died down. As the engines roared at cruising altitude, Ben curled himself into a fetal position and fell asleep. As he closed his eyes, he imagined the thrill it would be to kill the bastards they had incarcerated in the comfortable country club confines of Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. These sons-of-bitches had superior medical care and a better lifestyle than the veterans who were arriving home from Afghanistan and Iraq. Nothing made him angrier than the way the American government pampered these war criminals at Guantanamo. Nothing would give him more satisfaction to put them away – permanently.

  What pissed him off even more was according to the Geneva Convention, America was well within their rights to take each and every “illegal combatant,” put two bullets in their heads, and dump them into the bay around Guantanamo. But the liberals and the press were demanding, insisting, shouting, screaming – and the White House was giving in.

  Ben could barely stop the smile that spread across his face as he lie in the belly of the C-130J Hercules. They’d be hunting men who had been living a lavish lifestyle, fatted calves. They’d be easy to pick off. Maybe it was a good thing these bastard jihadists had been sunning themselves, eating their favorite foods, lazy and out of the fight for so long. They had time to grow slow and complacent. It would be akin to a wolf hunting a domesticated dog.

  Knowing they were being released, the terrorists probably felt safe. They’d want to celebrate with friends and loved ones and, most likely, that’s where they’d make first contact. Ben had been in touch with Moshe only twice since accepting the mission, but he knew the men they were hunting were being tracked with round-the-clock vigilance and the plan was being formulated in his battle-hardened mind. This was the mission he had been waiting for. He slept soundly even though a tinge of excitement ran through his veins. This sleep was like the night before Christmas.

  It was the night after Christmas, and all through the plan, not a jihadi was stirring, not one single man. The weapons were stored in their holsters with care, in the hopes that a firefight soon would be there. Ben fell asleep with a smile.

  ~ Lara ~

  Most women would be crying. Lara would save that for when Ben returned, if he returned. Every time he left, she felt if she was holding her breath. Christmas had been so beautiful with Ben there, sharing the moments with William. She was preparing to drive William to the airport tomorrow. She packed Ben’s Navy SEAL trident carefully and shipped it special delivery to Will’s address in Canada. Most likely the TSA would confiscate an object like that as Will passed through security at the airport, and she knew it would break his heart.

  William seemed unaffected by Ben’s abrupt departure. Resilience. It was something that she imagined had been passed down genetically to William from Ben, a spirit of acceptance and determination to forge ahead. This would be Will’s last night at Clearwater Farm and she wanted it to
be special for her step-son.

  Lara glanced at William. “Hey, I’m making some cocoa. Do you want some?”

  “Sure. Can I have marshmallows in mine?” William smiled.

  “Of course. Do you want to watch a movie tonight?”

  “I wanted to play A Sense of Duty, you know, my computer game. Would you like to play, too?” “My friends will be on in an hour.”

  She was surprised he invited her into his private domain with his closest school chums.

  “Yes, I’d like to try it, at least. I might not be very good.” Lara chuckled.

  “No, you’d be great.” William sounded sure of himself. “Dad said you shoot guns at the range and you’re a good shot.”

  Lara rolled her eyes. “Really, he said that?” I wonder how often they talk about me. Huh.

  The two of them drank cocoa and watched America’s Funniest Videos, something that she often watched with Ben. Their belly-laughs filled the living room for an hour.

  William turned to her. “Meet me upstairs in my bedroom. It’s time. My friends will all be on-line to play A Sense of Duty.”

  “Okay,” Lara answered as she cleaned up the kitchen. She never imagined she’d be playing a war game with a ten-year old on Christmas night, but she wanted to sneak a peek into William’s world. His bedroom was dimly lit when she entered, and he handed her a headset with built-in goggles. William was in his pajamas and speaking into a small microphone.

  “OK, guys. This is my step-mother, Lara. She might surprise you.” William spoke with certainty. Lara was amazed that he thought so highly of her skills. She suddenly hoped she would not disappoint him.

  Once she slipped the 3D goggles on, the game began in earnest with her being introduced as Slapshot. She got a quick tour of the controller and began to select her weaponry. The realism of the game was mind-boggling. As she went through the most basic kill scenes, she imagined this was exactly what Ben encountered in real combat during his tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. How anyone could do this for a more than a decade was beyond her comprehension.