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

by Armstrong, Ava

  Besides the bugs there were leeches and water snakes. Crocodiles the size of stretch hummers, rats and wild boars added interest to the jungle adventure, along with a long list of predators in the animal kingdom who would be stalking him. Guatemala was a hell hole. He never thought he’d prefer the terrain of Afghanistan and Iraq to anything, but the race to the bottom was won by Latin America for fighting hand-to-hand combat in piss-poor conditions.

  Four hours passed with details, movements, friendlies, safe houses, everything carefully and methodically marked so that each hit would be perfect. Of most concern, the algorithms found plenty of possible interruptions or errors. The tension in the room subsided as the men were dismissed for sleep. This was only the first session and Moshe was taking it easy on the men. Ben was thankful as he trudged to his bunk and reclined, craving sleep more than anything — deep slumber where he could forget the mission for a few hours. But sleep did not come easily. The racing thoughts in his mind would not stop.

  Lara’s shirt served as his pillowcase. He buried his face into it, inhaling her scent. For a split-second he felt as if she was there with him, and the longing for her began anew. He pulled the blanket over his body and curled into a fetal position fully dressed. When he wasn’t focused like a laser beam on the mission, his mind wandered back to her. What was she doing now? He imagined she was up because it was 9:00 AM where she was. He glanced at his phone. It was 2:00 AM. He closed his eyes for a moment, then picked up the phone and let it ring through.

  “Hey, mystery man.” Lara answered, and he felt his pulse race.

  “I love you, darlin,” was all he could manage to say. For some reason he was overcome with emotion. And, he hated the uncontrollable feeling when he was on the verge of tears. He swallowed hard and managed to whisper, “Miss you.”

  “I miss you, too. Be safe.” Lara’s voice wavered. He could tell the phone call was even harder for her. He imagined her face wrought with concern and her green eyes filled with sorrow. She added, “I love you so much, Ben, it hurts.” Imagining tears filling her eyes, he wanted more than ever to console her, tell her everything would be fine. But he couldn’t say the words he knew she wanted to hear, due to the tightness in his throat.

  “I know. I miss you, too. I’ll be thinking of you. I love you. Gotta go, darlin.” He wanted to linger but hung up instead. For a minute, he scrolled through the photos of her on his phone. Damn. He had to be some sort of idiot to be on the other side of the world from someone he loved so much, the woman of his dreams. Why he had this drive, this interminable force within him, to do this thing he could not explain. It was as if this was etched into his DNA. He was soon to be thirty-four. How much longer could he keep up with the young guys, fresh out of training, full of courage, with ripped bodies, sharper skills?

  And what was this doing to Lara? Tearing her up inside, he knew. She put on a good front and wasn’t crying in front of him as she did at first. But there was a short shelf-life on any relationship that involved extended absences over a long period of time. She would learn to live without him. The thought of that nearly tore his heart out. He wanted her to need him, to want him, every hour of every day for the rest of her life. There was nothing more precious to him than her. He had waited all of his life to find her. She was everything he desired and more. He couldn’t bear the thought of another man taking his place.

  Thinking back over the past year, he came close to losing it when she spent all of that time with Hawk. Even in death, Hawk held a special place in Lara’s heart that Ben could never compete with. Hawk had saved her life. And even though he was grateful to the man, he envied the way Lara kept his personal effects at the bungalow, and once caught her wearing Hawk’s old denim work coat after he died. She had lowered her eyes and removed it. But he remembered the way she caressed the garment, brushing it lightly with her fingertips, how she slipped it onto the hanger and closed the closet door. He had interrupted her reverie and felt awkward for a second. It was at that moment the realization struck him: Lara had loved Hawk like he loved his brothers. They watched each other’s backs. It was that kind of love. Something special, unique. It defied explanation. She couldn’t part with the memory of Hawk, just as he memorialized Javier and Sam.

  Sleep overcame him and his dreams were all about Lara, the beach at Clearwater Farm and the sailboat. He specifically wanted to dream about the sailboat and turned his last thoughts to it, meditating on the image of making love to her below deck, above deck, and everywhere in between. She would be beautiful in the fading sunlight after a long day of sailing.

  ~ Lara ~

  Lara's first instinct had been to grab her gun, grab Monique, and head towards the nearest police station. However, she had no proof that the Mustang was following her, although she strongly suspected it was. At this moment, her thoughts turned to Monique and how overwrought she already was. Don’t over-react. Lara's suspicions would remain managed for the time being. There was no need to put undue stress on her friend. She needed a plan and thought about the things Ben had taught her. Lara had defended herself in the past. She had beaten up and even killed her share of predators. If she had to, what was one or two more, especially in the name of self-defense?

  All she could think about was hearing Ben’s voice on that phone call. It might be the last time she heard his voice for days. At least she knew he was alive. That small piece of knowledge gave her a glimmer of hope. She didn’t want to look at it that way, but it was the first thought that crossed her mind. If she lost him, she didn’t know what she’d do. Ben had become the one steady, reliable, entity in her life. He made her see beauty, where once she saw nothing but harsh reality bathed in cynicism.

  To say she missed Ben would be like saying she missed breathing. The anxiety she suffered while he was away was nearly unbearable. She was still raw with the loss of Eliot and Hawk, then Jake. But for Ben’s sake, Lara knew she had to be his rock -- just as he was hers.

  Monique had spent the night, and Lara was hoping to find something to distract her for another day. She’d drag Monique to the dojo with Don Henderson. It helped Lara with her loneliness, it was time to show Monique how to do the same. As her friend and intern traipsed down the stairway barefoot, Lara teased her.

  “You look like you had a good night’s rest; your hair looks like you’ve been in a mosh pit!” Lara joked. At least she got a smile out of Monique.

  “Yes, I’m a mess.” Monique yawned, “How long did I sleep? My goodness, its 9:00 AM!”

  “The plan for the day is to go to the dojo and kick someone’s ass.” Lara offered. “Trust me, you need to do this.”

  “Let me eat breakfast first,” Monique responded. “How about cereal?”

  Lara put the cereal box and milk in front of Monique. “Just don’t eat too much, you’ll vomit. The workout at the dojo is rigorous. I’m just telling you that from experience.” Lara smiled. “And, don’t bother to take a shower now, you’ll need it later.”

  Lara tapped her phone and Don Henderson’s number came up. His voice boomed over the speaker, “Hey, where the hell have you been? I’ve been looking for you.”

  She laughed. “We are heading your way…that is Monique and I are both coming.”

  “Good.” Don was smiling. She could tell from his voice. “I’ve got two new guys here, young ones. They will give you girls a run for your money. I will supervise.”

  “See you in a few,” Lara replied and ended the call. “There, you see, Monique, you are going to be busy for the next few hours learning some new skills. Let’s go.”

  Within thirty minutes, the two women were in Lara’s vehicle and driving into the parking lot at the dojo. For Lara it was like old home week. The regular crowd was there, but she missed Bettencourt’s smiling face. So did Monique. Ushered by Don, the two new guys came out to greet them.

  “Girls, I want you to meet Tim Crosby and Aaron Brown. Gentlemen, meet Lara and Monique.” While Don was being gracious, Lara’s eyes roamed over both
of these characters. Tim was staring at Monique. Aaron extended his hand to her. She immediately responded. “Great to meet both of you. Let’s do the basic stuff today for Monique. She’s new.”

  Tim and Aaron exchanged a glance and said, “Sure, we'll go through the basic class today.”

  The two looked enough alike to be brothers, but they weren’t. Tim was tall and lanky, very muscular with dark brown hair and dark eyes. Aaron had the same coloring but weighed more. But of the two, Lara figured Aaron had more strength, even though Tim was a bit taller. They both looked like they were right out of high school, but she knew they were probably in their early twenties. She guessed they might be college students.

  Lara and Monique excused themselves to change in the women’s locker room. Lara brought an extra pair of yoga pants for Monique and a loose shirt. “This is adequate, believe me,” Lara said.

  Once suited up, they met in one of the private rooms with one mirrored wall. Form was everything in mixed martial arts. A spin or a kick executed in front of a mirror could help reveal your flaws or highlight proper technique.

  As Lara guessed, Tim took Monique and Aaron faced her. His brown eyes met hers and he smiled. “You’ve done this before,” Aaron stated.

  “Yes, I’m a regular,” Lara replied. “But I want Monique to start out slowly.”

  “But that doesn’t mean we have to…” Aaron said with the beginning of a grin on his face. It was almost as if he was taking Bettencourt’s place, goading her.

  “All right,” Lara said. “Bring it.” And the two of them moved to the other side of the room, giving Tim and Monique enough space to practice.

  Aaron crouched and circled her. He dove forward, wrapped his hands behind her ankle tendon, and use his shoulder to leverage her down to the ground, and from there had her in a leg-lock. She wasn’t ready, damn it, and fell on her ass which served as a wake-up call. She hurled silent insults at herself for not making the dojo a priority lately. She had lost her ability to anticipate her opponent’s first strike. Not good.

  “No worries,” Aaron said with a self-confident smile. For the next few minutes he evaded and responded to her every move with well-honed defensive techniques.

  But before he could get another sentence out, Lara was prowling around him, back and forth, closer and closer until she caught his arm and flipped him over her hip. It felt good to do that. Maybe the little squirt would stop smiling at her. He bounced up in a flash and tried to tackle her again, but she sidestepped and wrapped her arm around his skull, in a headlock, then jerked him down upon the mat. Aaron fought against her, and he was strong, but Lara kept her grip on him and tightened the vise a little – her legs were out in front of her, and she was sitting up, he was face down on the ground, with her elbow in the back of his neck. She felt Aaron squirm beneath her body, then suddenly he tapped out.

  After forty minutes of practice, Monique was talking to herself. She definitely had some moves to memorize. Once in the women’s locker room alone, she looked at Lara in the mirror. “Holy shit, you put that guy down in there.”

  “Yes, and he didn’t expect it.” Lara smiled, “That was the best part.”

  “How long before you think I can do that?” Monique asked wide-eyed.

  “Maybe a year if you stick to it and come at least twice a week,” Lara said, “I’ll come with you.”

  “I want to be able to do that.” Monique said smiling. “I really do.”

  Both women showered, dried their hair and made themselves presentable. As Lara and Monique strolled down the hallway to see Don Henderson, Aaron and Tim were taking on new victims in the private lesson room. Don’s office door was ajar and Lara tapped on it.

  “Hey, girls – how was it? Did these guys do okay? I watched for a while in the two-way mirror.” Don waved for them to sit down. “I kept an eye on you in there. Lara, you're a little out of practice but you bounced back. I hope to see you girls here more often.”

  “Aaron and Tim did a great job.” Lara said.

  Monique added, “I had fun. I’ll be back. Where do I sign?”

  Don put the forms in front of Monique and turned to Lara. “How’s Ben? Haven’t seen him for a while.”

  Lara smiled, “He’s on a trip, but it’s not a long one. Hey, how about you and Olivia coming over for dinner tonight? I can make lobster.”

  Don seemed delighted. He called Olivia and she was enthusiastic. “Great what time do you want us there?”

  Lara thought for a moment. “How about 6:00 PM, is that too early?”

  “No, that’s great.” Don waved goodbye as they left. Lara was thrilled to be having Don and Olivia over for dinner. Monique would enjoy their company, that’s if she could convince her to stay. Plus, dinner would be one more distraction. Lara was thinking of lunch and an after-Christmas shopping trip for the next few hours.

  Outside in the parking lot, Monique elbowed Lara, “Hey, isn’t that the car you called Bettencourt about?” The Mustang was there, covered with flat black paint, and low profile racing tires. Lara jotted down the plate number and stopped by the police station on the way home.

  Paul Simpson, a tall blonde officer who looked like he was right out of the police academy, smiled, “How can I help you ladies?”

  “I’m Randall Bettencourt’s fiancée,” Monique started. She gave Bettencourt's old badge number, and one or two of his former colleagues in order to confirm who she was, and who Bettencourt was.

  “We need to know who owns this vehicle, it’s been following us for several days.” Lara said flatly, handing him the piece of paper. “Bettencourt said you could help.”

  Simpson moved the women to a side room and closed the door. “Let me see that.” He smiled and said he’d be right back. Lara glanced at Monique nervously. The two sat in the small interrogation room silently, not moving but mentally twitching.

  Simpson was back in a flash. “It’s registered to an Aaron Brown.” Monique and Lara exchanged the same look, one of surprise followed by alarm.

  “Damn, it’s the guy I just threw down at the dojo,” Lara exhaled. “Can you give me his address and whatever information you have? I’ll take it from there.”

  Lara noticed Simpson's eyes narrowed. She guessed what he was thinking: Bettencourt's fiancée came in with her friend, asking about a car, and the friend says that she would handle it? That was a Hell and a No. “May I ask what this is about?”

  “No thanks, we've got this.” She pulled Monique by the sleeve and thanked Officer Simpson, “We’ve got to go.”

  In the parking lot, Lara started her Mercedes and simultaneously tapped her phone. Rusty’s voice boomed over the speaker in the car. “Hey, Lara, what are you up to?”

  “I need to see you. It’s business.” Lara said tersely.

  “Yup, come up to the range. I’m here this afternoon.” Rusty seemed to know something was up. “I’ll see you when you get here.” The phone call blipped off.

  “One more little detail.” Lara was talking to herself and Monique was listening. Lara took a device out of the console that looked like a magnet and made a U-turn to return to the dojo parking lot. The Mustang was parked and no one was around as Lara slipped out of her vehicle. She bent down with the pretense of picking up her glove from the ground, as she tucked the magnetic device to the underside of the black car.

  “I don’t dare to ask you what that was all about.” Monique said as they pulled out of the parking lot into traffic.

  Lara tapped her phone and found the app she was looking for. She handed the phone to Monique. “It’s a tracking device. I want to know where these guys are at all times. But more than that, I want to know who the hell they are and why they’ve been following us. Rusty will get to the bottom of it.”

  The Mercedes raced through city traffic and was soon on the outskirts moving in the general direction toward Panther Pond. Rusty’s domicile was really a compound on nine acres, combination shooting range, secret bunker, and Lara’s home away from home. As
Lara stepped out of the Mercedes after a forty-five minute drive, she inhaled the fresh clean air and her eyes soaked in the raw beauty of the frozen pond. A January thaw was beginning. For a moment the stillness was complete, only interrupted by the occasional twitter of birds. Unlike the seaside home she lived in, Rusty’s place on the pond was incredibly quiet. No rolling waves here. Dead silence.

  It was Monique’s first time on the pond. “Wow, this place is awesome.”

  “I think you’ll like it.” Lara smiled as they trudged toward the cabin on the edge of the pond. “It’s rustic but charming, and there’s always a crackling fire going.”

  Rusty met them at the door with a smile, his hair tousled but the familiar Red Sox baseball cap covered most of it. His thick soft chamois shirt was frayed, but Lara loved the feel of it when she hugged him. Rusty was her go-to guy, her step-father, but more importantly he had a network of spies, ex-FBI spooks, who could gather information on just about anyone on the face of the earth. He would come in handy today.

  “What brings you girls out here?” He drew them inside and bolted the door.

  “We're being followed.”

  Israel

  ~ Ben ~

  Mock-ups were performed during the day and the team was fully loaded. While in Israel, they worked in a protected alley and simulated the hits they practiced on the computer game. Then took a brief break for lunch and a nap. The nighttime mock-up was critical. It closely resembled what would really take place if all went according to plan.

  “Old man, you are keeping up well,” Moshe slapped Ben’s back laughing.

  Ben gave him a smile, “I’m preserving some of my energy for tonight. It will be a long one.”

  “Wisdom trumps youth every time, my friend.” Moshe said with a somber tone. “Use it -- your wisdom. You are the best frogman I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen quite a few in my time.” Ben stared into Moshe’s black eyes, they reminded him of black olives. He reached around Moshe’s narrow back and tousled his thick black hair, knowing it was a source of irritation for his lanky friend. Moshe growled good-naturedly, then punched Ben’s shoulder.