“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Ben said, realizing they’d lost their followers. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they landed at the safe house. Elvis was already there taking a shower.
“Hurry up,” Ben yelled to him. “I need to use the bathroom.”
“All right, I’m almost done.” Elvis said.
Ben stepped out into the alley to take a leak. The place reeked of urine, garbage, vomit, feces, and some smells he couldn’t identify. The flies were unbearable. Babies cried. The humidity was oppressive. He didn’t think he could perspire any more. His clothing was soaked with blood and sweat.
When he stepped back inside, Elvis was wrapped in a towel. “It’s all yours.”
Ben slapped his hand as he headed toward the shower.
Elvis looked at him, “What the hell happened to you? I thought you guys were right behind us.”
Ben managed a smile, “Just another day.”
He heard Elvis yell to him as he turned on the water, “Hey, Chief, if you haven’t eaten, I’ll get you something.”
Even the water from the shower smelled like rotten eggs. But, the warm water pulsing on him washed away the grime of the day and made him feel baptized anew. Three less terrorists walked on the face of the earth, plus he got enough intel to foil an attack on American soil. Couldn’t ask for more than that … except maybe four terrorists. He was satisfied with the mission. The FBI were tracking Ibrahim Alim Shah and Mohammed Ghafoor. They were doomed; a kill order had been given from the highest authority. Two more he didn’t have to worry about. But, Ben would not rest until he heard they were dead, officially.
If he hadn’t gone the extra mile in that interrogation, the information never would have been gleaned. The bombing of Chicago would have killed hundreds of innocent people – for what? Allah? The prophet Muhammed wanted this? What sort of sick bastard would believe this garbage? There was nothing religious about it. It was Nazism plain and simple. Kill all who do not follow your sick demented leader. It had nothing to do with God or Allah or praying or living peacefully alongside others. It was a self-centered cult, hell bent on destroying everyone and everything on the planet who didn’t submit. And, it had to be stopped by unwavering men with guns who would stay up day and night, willing to do anything possible to end it.
Ben didn’t need the towel to dry himself off. He let the water remain on his body. It seemed to be the only coolness he experienced for the last twenty-four hours. He slipped into a fresh shirt and cargo shorts from his backpack. Thanking Elvis for half a sandwich, he ate voraciously.
The com in his ear buzzed with the happy news that the Dark Horse Guardians had taken out twelve other targets in the course of the day, led by Randall Bettencourt. They located a gun cache with those they sought in the same building as the HUMINT group had indicated. Calmly waiting for nightfall, the men had determined their options. The G’s and tiny drones helped them gain information and coordinate the strike. The dead bodies were photographed for identification, then tossed in a remote landfill, which was set afire several hours later.
The good news: all of Ben’s men were intact even though they suffered bumps and bruises, cuts and sprains – they were all alive and well. Bettencourt said they hit a checkpoint, the cigarette and cash payout was generous and they were allowed through. For a moment, Ben let himself relax. He said a silent prayer of thanks as he realized God hadn’t yet forsaken him.
Within minutes, his tired body dropped upon the mattress. He took Lara’s shirt and inhaled her scent. How wonderful it was to close his eyes and imagine her at this moment, in this dark and revolting place. Lara, a beautiful thought to lull him to sleep. He fell into deep slumber, but it didn’t last. He woke once startled by a noise outside. He instinctively reached for one of the two loaded weapons by his side. Nothing happened, but he remained awake for a while. Before sunrise he would leave in the Jeep and head back to Soto Cano.
As he lay awake he contemplated the next stop: Cuba, Leeward Point Airfield. Ben had visited Cuba when Gitmo was first populated. At the time of his visit, there were nearly 600 terrorists being held. Things were much different now. The place had changed into a terrorist country club, a joke really. It was no longer a prison-like atmosphere but one akin to a spa. Qurans were provided and handled with the utmost care. The United States didn’t want to insult a terrorist. There was an exercise yard provided; tennis courts were built. The detainees were allowed to congregate. Even halal meat was served. It was astounding to him. No convenience or comfort was spared for these ruthless killers.
Sunrise came too early. Damn, he never felt so old and stiff in his life. He wanted food and good hot coffee. The Jeep ride back to Soto Cano was five hours long; thank God the driver brought breakfast. The men ate croissants and drank coffee like they’d never seen food before. When they finally got to the airport, they boarded Moshe’s C130J, freshly refueled and ready for the three and a half hour flight to Cuba.
Ben reclined in the leather seat and smiled at Moshe. “A little nap would be good right about now.” He closed his eyes and instantly fell asleep with the din of the team in the background excitedly talking about the coming mission in Guantanamo Bay, then Pakistan.
~ Lara ~
Rusty spent the night at Clearwater Farm with Lara and Monique. The police investigation into Officer Simpson’s shooting was lengthy and detailed. Rusty’s friend, John Carter, a former FBI special agent, stood watch while the others slept.
Lara’s slumber was fitful. She woke to news on the radio as she dressed for the day that made her blood run cold. The Senate Intelligence Committee was about to leak classified information regarding a mission taking place in Guantanamo. Private contractors were involved. The report was being touted as the biggest intelligence leak in American history. She immediately thought of Ben. What would this mean for him if it was his mission being exposed? Her first response was to talk with Rusty. He had to know something about this.
Her second response to find the leaker and feed him into a wood chipper.
Not wanting to alarm Monique, Lara searched on the internet for further information. Sure enough, every news service was talking about the “leak”…the details of a CIA mission were about to be compromised. A few democrats on the Senate Intelligence Committee felt it was important for the American people to know what was being done to detainees. They claimed they were providing this information to the American people in order to be transparent.
What? Was this for real? She imagined it could be some sort of joke, but then realized it wasn’t. She had to call Ben and let him know about the breaking news. She tapped his phone number and he answered on the second ring, “Keegan.”
“Oh God, there’s a Senate Intelligence Committee leak, Ben, I don’t know if you’ve seen the news yet…but, it’s not good.” Lara blurted.
“Damn.” She heard him mutter. “I’m not watching the news right now; how bad is it?”
Lara relayed the details to him. “Thus far the information about the report has been vague. But the story did mention contractors, roughing up terrorists.” Lara whispered, “Ben, they’re saying that some private contractors might be torturing terrorists. It was mentioned that their names would be exposed. What’s this all about?”
“It’s bullshit, that’s what it is!” Ben said angrily. “I knew this was coming, but never thought they’d give out my personal information right in the middle of a covert mission. The bastards! Damn it! This puts you in the line of fire. I’m serious, Lara, if this information gets into the wrong hands, and it probably already has — there will be more than a few people wanting my head and yours, too. Look, I’ve got to go, darlin --- I’m sorry.”
Lara's jaw clenched. This was the thanks Ben received for risking his life on every mission, doing the government's job? She wouldn’t stand for it. She knew there was one person that Ben knew on the Senate Intelligence Committee, he was a trusted family friend and recommended him for the U.S. Naval Academy, S
am Cohen. Lara frantically found his phone number on the internet, but couldn’t get through. She found a number for one of his aides and dialed it. Finally, she got a human being instead of a recording.
“I need to meet with Senator Cohen immediately,” Lara said to the aide.
“And, may I ask who’s calling?” the aide asked as if he’d said it a million times.
“Mrs. Ben Keegan” Lara stated flatly. “Lieutenant Ben Keegan’s wife.”
“One moment, please.” Lara waited as she was put on hold for what seemed like an eternity.
Finally, the aide came back to the phone, “The senator can give you fifteen minutes tomorrow. But you will have to arrive in Washington and pass through security – that could take an hour or so.”
“I’ll be there – what time?” Lara asked.
The aide replied, “3:00 PM, that’s the only free time he has left.”
“I'll be there.” Lara promised, and hung up.
She packed an overnight bag and drove to the train station. Rusty’s friend, John Carter, was guarding as Rusty and Monique were asleep in the guest rooms. Before leaving Lara wrote a note asking Monique to take Einstein overnight, and let her know she’d be in D.C.
“Where the hell are you going?” Carter asked.
“To Washington D.C.” Lara said flatly. “I have some business there. Don’t say anything to Rusty until he wakes. I want him to sleep. It was a long night.”
She parked the Mercedes in the train station parking lot, purchased the ticket for the capitol, and then boarded the train. Arriving early was always the best idea. She’d be sitting in Senator Cohen’s outer office much earlier than he expected her. He, and everyone on the Senate Intelligence Committee, would have to look at her face all day long as they came and went to their important briefings. It was not Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, but close. She would be a one-woman army fighting against that which was pure evil: the self-centered idiots putting her homeland in grave danger, putting her husband in mortal danger, all because they wanted attention. If it was attention they wanted, she’d see that they got it. If she had to stand in front of the wall of news crews she would grant an interview explaining how leaking this report would put the lives of countless U.S. citizens in harm’s way, overseas and at home. A press conference was already being set up in front of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. She streamed the news on her phone, anxiously watching.
Those in power had no idea who they were dealing with. She was determined to take a stand, to make a mockery of this little cabal who were hell bent on destroying her husband, a decorated war hero, the love of her life, and the future father of her children. A lioness would’ve paled in comparison. Lara closed her eyes and slept on the train. It was a long ride to Washington and she needed the rest. But before she closed her eyes her phone vibrated. She looked down to see Rusty’s phone number.
“I know what you’re doing.” Rusty began. “There’s really nothing we can do about this damned mess.”
“Yes, there is.” Lara said with determination. “Run backgrounds on the four senators. I want everything, including financials, stuff from the NSA, phone calls, I mean everything. Hack it if you have to. The leak hasn’t been made public yet. I’m on my way to Washington D.C. — I plan to fight fire with fire.”
There was silence on Rusty’s end, then he uttered, “Listen to me, you little fool. You can’t reveal your identity in front of the world. You’ll put Ben’s life in danger even more. Think this through. If you go before a camera, be somebody else…anybody else…but don’t reveal your identity. I’ll e-mail you everything I can get. You’d better pick up some thumb drives and a damned good disguise.”
Lara smiled as the call ended. She knew there were cameras everywhere in D.C. that would be watching her every move. She pulled a scarf and sunglasses out of her backpack and slipped them on. It was imperative to keep her identity concealed. Rusty was right. She sensed there would be plenty of information to feed to the hungry news crew. And she was just the one to do the feeding. She slumped against the side of the cabin and closed her eyes from sheer exhaustion. She felt vulnerable on the train without a firearm, but knew she couldn’t get through security at the senate building if she was carrying. Besides, Washington D.C. was a gun-free zone. She found this ironic, as it had one of the highest murder rates in the nation. She couldn’t fight the sleep that overtook her.
Guantanamo Bay, Cuba
~ Ben ~
No sooner did Ben get off the phone with Lara than Senator Cohen was on the line calling him. “I’m sorry, Chief, I couldn’t stop them. I tried everything. This report is being leaked to the press by four democrats, deliberately. I’ll do my best to control this, but it’s already been decided.”
“Uh huh. Right.”
Ben knew documents would be made public with his name attached to them. This was his worst nightmare. His identity would be revealed to a whole host of terrorists who’d love to kill him and everyone in his family. He wasn’t as worried about himself as he was Lara.
But he froze when he heard the Senator’s next words. “And, your wife, Lara, will be here to meet with me tomorrow. I know it's about the leak and I don’t know what I’m going to tell her.”
“What?” Ben uttered with disbelief. “No, she’d never do such a thing and put herself in danger like that, not my wife. Are you sure it was her and not some crackpot?”
Ben heard Cohen take a deep breath and exhaled. “Yes, we traced the phone number. It was her. I have nothing to tell her, except what I’ve just said to you. If you can stop her, it might be a good idea. She will only make the trip to hear me say how disappointed I am with the whole mess.”
Ben ran his hand over his face. “Right. I’ll take care of this.” He spoke to the pilot and was told the plane would be landing in ten minutes at Windward Point. From the air, he could see the coves and peninsulas along the shoreline and the ship that was moored there to spirit away the remaining detainees from Guantanamo Bay.
POTUS was planning a big press conference to announce the end of Gitmo, as if this was some meteoric accomplishment. It was all smoke and mirrors to appease his big donors and liberal constituency. It was all part of his make-believe legacy. Ego. That’s was at the center of all evil, and the driving force behind this administration. It was sickening to watch. All Ben could do was play the role he was given.
Now that Cuba had been declared a friendly nation, the “Cactus Curtain” separating the Naval Air Base owned and operated by the United States from the Country of Cuba would still exist but it didn’t carry the significance it did in earlier days. From the air, he estimated the cruise ship moored in the bay could easily house 500 people. It was an older luxury liner used now for private parties. Maintenance crews and other personnel were busy bringing provisions out to it for the long trip to the Mediterranean. The gang from Gitmo would be taking a luxury cruise to Morocco.
While still in flight, Ben dialed the phone number on the satellite phone for Captain Gooding. Gooding was an old Navy acquaintance of Ben’s. He had left the Navy several years earlier than him, and worked for a cruise line as security captain. His skills were in high demand. Not only could he command a ship, he was ready, and capable of protecting the passengers as he brought along a contingent of highly trained former military personnel on all of his voyages. However, not on this one; Captain Gooding was alone. Ben spoke into the phone, “All set?”
“Yes, things are going as planned.” Gooding said calmly. “Good to hear from you.” The phone call ended and Ben exhaled a sigh of relief. At least this was going to plan, or appeared to be thus far.
As soon as the plane landed, the men entered a sequestered barracks to rest and eat. Ben, however, was on the phone trying to contact Lara. She wasn’t answering her phone. It went to voicemail once. Then he called Rusty and was relieved to hear his voice, “Yeah, Chief.”
Ben spoke slowly and deliberately, “Tell me this is some sort of joke…Lara on a train to Washington
D.C. to see Senator Cohen?”
Ben sensed Rusty didn’t want to tell him what he said next, “No, Chief. She’s going. And, I’m helping her. She will be in disguise. I’ve got the stuff she requested all e-mailed to her. She’s downloading it on a zip drive right now. I thought she was crazy at first, too. But, now I’m not so sure. I think she’s smarter than all of us.”
“Are you serious?” Ben closed his eyes to stifle the anger rising in him. “What the hell is she going to do? There’s no stopping this clown show. They have an agenda.”
“The information I sent to Lara just might stop them.” Rusty chuckled. “Scandals, dirt, yes. That’s the stuff we need right now, and these four idiots have plenty of it in their past. Hell some of it is present. I’m talking about possible felony charges, sex with underage girls, gun-running. The works. The press will eat this stuff up. It’s our only leverage and we have to use it.”
Ben couldn’t believe he was hearing this correctly. “So, you and Lara have teamed up and will be in front of the press at the White House to release all of this?”
Rusty corrected him, “Not exactly. She will meet with Senator Cohen first and give the information to him. He will call an emergency meeting with the four senators and let them know what will happen if the intel is leaked. They will have only one chance to destroy the report and pull back the rhetoric. Actually, they will be asked to resign by the Senate Majority Leader. It will only be a matter of time before these scandals emerge. Lara and I uncovered a volcano waiting to erupt. Lara wanted leverage, and she's got it.”
Ben couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but also knew he couldn’t stop her, even if he did get Lara on the phone. She was on a mission to protect him, even if it meant endangering her own life. He hoped to God she wasn’t in D.C. without a concealed weapon. But he knew she’d probably abide by the laws of the district and go without it. His focus should be on the Guantanamo mission, but now his mind was on Lara. He had to trust she would be all right. He feared for her safety more than he did any situation he might encounter.
Hard Man to Kill (Dark Horse Guardian Series Book 4) Page 7
