SAFE HAVENS: Shadow Masters (A Sean Havens Black Ops Novel Book 1)

by J. T. Patten

  “Shit. I had no idea.”

  The officer opened the back passenger door. Red, with his Federal ID around his neck, was already making his way into the house when the officer yelled something indiscernible.

  As the officer started to walk after Red, a call came over the radio. The officer stopped to listen. Officer down on Elmore Street? That’s where we just were… “Mikey!”

  Another uniformed officer heading out the door in response to the officer down call saw the FBI badge of the man running into the house and just shook his head. He was amazed how quickly the Feds got to scenes.

  “It’s over, Agent. Is this a federal case now?”

  Red bolted past the officer and bound up the stairs where he was halted again.

  “Sorry, Agent. Unless you all have some jurisdiction, I have a crime scene here. We got an officer down call now so nobody is doing anything for a few.”

  Red halted. He could see the aftermath in the room. He was too late. He had failed his friend.

  “They were my buddy’s family. They were…friends,” Red mumbled.

  “I’m sorry, sir.” The officer looked down to break eye contact in the uncomfortable moment. “Agent, if you aren’t official, I’m not sure you should be here.”

  Red scowled. “Uh huh. Not leaving. What happened?”

  The officer realized this man wasn’t going anywhere without answers. “From what we can tell, there was a break-in, and the women either ran to the room or the mom came to the room and tried to help her daughter. The assailants kicked in the door…”

  “Assailants?” Red interrupted.

  “Yeah, must have been at least two shooters here. One guy is dead downstairs. Body you likely had to step over. Looks like his partner shot him. He was pretty shot up. He was hit up here. Blood trail goes downstairs to their point of entry. Heard on the radio another suspect was picked up down the street.”

  “Yeah, I chased him down.”

  “Why were you here? Were you inside?” The officer squinted a bit and took a step back, instinctively moving towards his firearm before remembering he was speaking to a Federal agent.

  “No, I’d just gotten here. The husband said there may be a problem. Officer downstairs said the girl had been raped and then threatened.”

  “These gangbangers are something else. Wonder how they crossed paths with a girl down here in Beverly neighborhood.”

  “I’m not sure either, but I sure as hell am going to find out.”

  Red turned back. “Hey, sorry about your fellow man who just took one. Hope he is OK.”

  “Yeah, thanks. Just happened a block over en route to this scene. Standing by.”

  Red went down to see the other shooter.

  Another officer approached and looked down at Red’s credentials. “Is this a Fed thing?”

  “No, so no need to stand down. I mean, no, I am here on a personal matter for this family.”

  “Oh, well in that case. This guy was definitely shot…”

  “No shit,” Red said sarcastically as he moved around the body.

  “Well, right, but what I was going to say was, and I am no inspector, but looks like this guy was shot in the back upstairs then shot in the head down here. Maybe they got in an argument. Like maybe one guy wanted to have at the women and the other guy was like, ‘Naw yo, I want these bitches dead cause they saw my face,’ ya know? Then the one guy shoots him and runs away after killing the women but then he comes down to get the other guy who turns around and shoots him in the bean. Right?”

  “Right. You are no inspector.” Red smiled and patted the officer on the shoulder. “Keep workin’ on it.”

  Red could tell something didn’t happen right, but he was not going to commit to any hypothesis at this point without more information.

  Maybe the guy he tackled would have more information…if CPD would share it. And usually they would. They were a great outfit. Even those who were a bit overzealous in their initial assessment were trying hard. He respected that. Many here in Chicago could be stereotypical, but they were all on the same team. Team guys understood that. They just needed a little time and a little patience. Red had neither right now. This was a mess. How was Sean going to react so many thousands of miles away? It could certainly cause someone a problem.

  Chapter 11

  Havens headed out to run his last minute errands to close out Yemen before bugging out for good.

  One stop was to a small hotel owned by a Turkish family. He had previously identified them on another trip and did some investigating as to their social ties. He concluded that they could be fairly trustworthy. Using a Turkish alias, he had booked a room for a future date and confirmed that he would send bags and a package to avoid baggage surcharges by the airlines. They had agreed to hold the items until he arrived to claim them for his stay. Unfortunately for them, today he would not be staying due to a change in his business itinerary. He would just collect a few of his things.

  The suitcase full of clothing would be left in the street after he ripped the liner out to retrieve some paperwork. The bag had seemingly innocuous toiletries with additional disguise items concealed in pop out compartments. Were they to be discovered, it may raise questions but nothing to alert authorities over. No one would be running DNA trace here.

  After a few other stops, he made his way to the airport. He didn’t want to be too early and allow wandering eyes to check him out, nor did he want to be late and miss his flight in case he was delayed. Surveillance detection was an afterthought. His momentum was forward bound.

  He stopped for a bite to eat in close proximity to the airport. His food, a traditional lamb stew with an assortment of sweet breads, arrived promptly, much to his dismay. Food was unappetizing at this point. So was the annoying proprietor who wanted to make conversation with his only guest of the day. He paid his bill and decided on a quick walk to keep moving. The owner was still loudly chatting away at him as he moved further and further away.

  Havens dialed a secure number to X. “Hey, cell phone 2 going silent. Activate 3 with routing point in Germany.”

  “Roger that, cell 2 dead turning on 3 for lederhosen. Will be dead as soon as I get a connection.”

  “Good, copy. All good on your end?”

  “Yip,” said the other voice on the line. “We killing your wife too?”

  Havens smiled at the play on words. “Nah, I’ll keep her around for another year and renew her contract.”

  “Yeah, yeah, you know. Can I cut off her throw away too?”

  “Yeah. I told her to pull the card and pitch it.”

  “Has she figured you out yet? She sure puts up with a lot of your shit.”

  “Yeah, but that is the price she has to pay when you marry a guy like me over slumming for a guy like you. Who marries a guy with the name of just an alphabet letter anyway?”

  “That’s not what she said. Like to bust your balls more, but I gotta do this now if you want it shut off. I have to leave this site too. Getting hot, and as you know, they don’t know I am here. Talk to you later, bro. Out.”

  “Mick!” Havens heard a voice behind him. Before turning around Havens remembered that due to the passport screw-up he was no longer Mick.

  “Mick!”

  The urge was almost too great, but Havens was going to give it a little more time. He kept walking, looking for anything reflective that may show who was behind him. He thought he recognized the voice.

  “Alright, you passed. I am just playing with you to see if you would respond wrong, Will-iam.”

  William was Havens’ new name.

  It was horrible security and tradecraft protocol having him use this cover blindly. There had been virtually no briefing on this persona, no background bio, just a pat on the back good luck sucker send off. Dudes got burned in the field with this kind of shit play. Even though government may support Tier One, he always felt better getting covers from the high-speed boys over the Feds. High-speed operators, himself included, knew
the duress that an individual would be under while covered, so they took it very seriously. Especially since a team guy knew he may have to deploy to recover a field-burned bubba.

  Havens knew now that the voice behind him was spooky mission support asset John the Ethiopian. With the proper name being used, he turned around. John stood there clapping for the successful Tradecraft 101 ad hoc field test.

  Havens looked around to see who was watching or nearby.

  “It’s cool, man.”

  “What are you doing here, John? I’m not in the mood to be fucked with by some asshole playing games.”

  “I have a present for you. Well a trade.”

  “Do I dare ask?”

  “Trust me.”

  “For some reason, I do. Despite that dumb ass test you just did out in the open. This isn’t a role play, and I don’t like fucking around when I am in play.”

  “Well you shouldn’t trust me and you don’t have to like me, but in this case, I have your ‘6.’”

  John looked around discretely and from his front pocket pulled a diplomatic passport. “I’ll need yours now.”

  Havens nearly swiveled his head around 360 degrees. His eyes widened in shock. “Jeez! What the hell are you doing? Can’t you at least put it in something? Holy shit, you are going to burn me before I get through the doors. Fuckin’ A. Let me see this first.” He closed the distance to block any surveillance or casual glances by the right people who could screw with his day. It was the best he could make of the situation. Clearly, John didn’t play high stakes each day. Maybe he was high.

  Havens took the passport and opened it. It was the same name as the passport he was given earlier, but now official status with visa entry stamps.

  “John, I don’t know what the hell you all are up to, but this is not a game.”

  “Look man, I heard what you said and was in a position to make it a little better. I’d say now you are at about 80% chance of not getting detained. Most places you are going to will just see the cover, roll their eyes, stamp you, and move you out of the way. I want you to go to check in with the guy furthest to the right. He’s a bit of a fat ass and will have a blue topped ink pen in his left breast pocket.”

  “John, this is just…”

  John waved off Havens.

  “I know bro, too A-F-U or amateurish, or whatever you are going to bitch about next. You could use some TC brush up yourself. Saw you in the souk. Know you were followed and that you put that big boy to sleep. I been following you for a while. But bottom line, I tried to make it better, you need to be somewhere quick, so go to the airport, get checked in, and trust that maybe we are not the Varsity team, but you getting busted will actually make it worse for us. So consider that our selfish self-serving motives are stronger than just caring about you. Done!”

  “OK. Thanks. You know who that tail was? Was it you guys?”

  “Nah. We think it was our long lost sister organization. They’ve been re-funded. Hard-edged man. Dirty muthers.”

  “Long lost? What sister org is that. You don’t mean precursor. Some OSS thing?”

  “Naw, man. Fuckin’ Pond.”

  “What’s Pond?”

  “Man, for a guy who bitches at everyone and who don’t know the blue building, the Pond, shit, I think half the guys in blue building are Pond. Thought you were too at first. You may not be as old school as I thought. You need schooling but best you take your shit and get out of here. I don’t want Pond on my ass. One thing if it’s you.”

  “You really don’t care about me?” Haven smiled.

  “Nope, not one bit.”

  “Not even a little?” Havens had his eyebrows raised playing around in a moment of softness for John who was trying his best.

  “Maybe a smidge. Man you snake eater door kickers are weird.”

  “John, I am a snake charmer, door picker. Big difference. Thanks again.”

  “Methinks maybe you are a bit more than that. But anyway. No sweat. Be well.” Pool, pond, pond’d be good for you. John smiled as he thought of old movie lines. He stopped smiling when he thought back on what he heard the Pond was doing on their turf. Bureaucracy, he thought to himself. But the Pond was scary. The Pond made people disappear. For good. Poof.

  As Havens headed back towards the airport, John turned down a side street. A blue and grey Daihatsu Terius SUV rounded the corner heading in the opposite direction of John’s travel. Only a kilometer from the airport, John heard the 4-cylinder vehicle revving its engine as it was gaining speed down the narrow side street. John turned towards the noise of the speeding Terius just as he stepped up to the sidewalk, aware that he should move to safety from the typically frenzied Yemeni drivers. As he viewed the driver hunkering over the wheel with his target in sight, John knew it was coming for him.

  That’s no Yemeni. Can’t fool me.

  John had no time to move as the vehicle was just feet away from impact.

  “Shit.” John resolved himself to his imminent fate. Man, fuck this business.

  The SUV slammed into John tossing him into the air over the Daihatsu. His head hit the windshield as his body tumbled from hood to roof to ground. The blood splatter and smear on the spidering splintered window glass would tell the tale of an anonymous fate as his rag doll body tumbled on to the dirty road.

  Another seemingly unintentional traffic accident in Yemen. Another dead man who could tell no tale.

  Perfect.

  The operator behind the wheel dialed a number and looked to ditch the vehicle down by the port. “Langley, boy down. Out.”

  Chapter 12

  With a pre-processed exit visa, a long wait in the line for passport control, and a slight wink from the heavyset CIA-funded customs security officer, Havens passed through the first leg of security without a problem.

  Needing to catch his breath and settle the nerves, Havens entered the toilet facilities to relieve himself and splash some water on his face. The bathrooms had been substantially upgraded since his last visit. He hated squatting over the holes in the floor and was pleased to see upon entry at least a moderate attempt at better sanitation.

  Half a dozen steps in and Havens saw that the holes had been replaced by toilets, but apparently not industrial strength ones. The smell and foulness of the human waste was enough for him to be convinced of holding it until the plane. His palms were sweaty. His eyes felt sunken. Just get to the plane.

  As Havens exited the restroom, two AK-clutching security guards were blocking his path.

  “Excuse me,” the first guard said in English, “I will need to see your passport please.”

  Havens noticed the international language of micro-expressions on the guards’ faces. One was blinking a bit more rapidly and another Havens could see had unusually dilated pupils given the current light source.. A third officer a bit further back from the others was holding a smile unusually long. The officer in front of him furrowed his eyebrows in a concentrated manner.

  Timing is all off on these guys. I’m blown.

  As Havens paused slightly in a natural reaction to the confrontation, he continued to witness clusters of behavioral movements leaking the true emotions of the guards—fear, preparedness, hostility, anger, and uncertainty.

  Havens was becoming a bit uncertain himself, but would not let any asymmetry of expression act as a visual tell.

  “I already cleared…”

  “Your passport!” the guard interrupted now starting to clench his weapon.

  “Sure, what’s the.” Havens decided compliance was best. “Yes. I have it right here.” Havens handed over the official U.S. diplomatic passport as requested.

  “You are American government worker?”

  “Yes.”

  “Please come with me.”

  “Certainly, may I ask if everything is OK? I am trying to get home to my family and don’t want to miss my flight.”

  “You will miss your flight.”

  The hell I am.

  As anger and panic
raged through Havens he maintained full control, saving his questions for whomever they were taking him to see or for whatever room away from the other passengers he was being taken to.

  They walked down a short hall, turned to another nondescript hallway, and then another turn, finally stopping at an unpainted metal door. He noticed the locks did not lock from the outside. It wasn’t a holding cell. Good sign.

  A small desk with two chairs on opposite ends was in the middle of the room with two other chairs arranged in the corner.

  “Please remove your clothing and place them and any items in your pocket on the table. You will have one minute to complete this.”

  The guard motioned for another one of the guards to also enter the room while Havens disrobed. When Havens finished placing his clothes and items on the table, the guard rapped on the door and the others entered again.

  Havens didn’t enjoy being completely naked, but he had to feign embarrassment and modesty. SERE training had taken that away from him years ago.

  “Can you please tell me…?”

  “What did you steal from your embassy?” the guard interrupted again while sifting through Havens’ personal effects. The guard remained looking at the items on the table.

  “Steal?”

  “Yes, what is it that you do for your embassy?”

  “Sir, I am just a staffer here on a brief rotation. I have not stolen anything.”

  “We will see. We were informed that you had stolen a particular item that does not appear to be here, so we must find out where you have placed it or who you have given it to.”

  “Sir, can we please contact someone from the embassy and I am sure this can all be cleared up.”

  “We have already been contacted by the embassy. That is why we are trying to clear this up.”

  “Can you tell me who called you from the embassy?”

  “This is not important for you. Please sit down.”

  Under normal circumstances in a stressful situation, Havens would have been making light of his predicament in his mind, likely curious as to how many other bare asses had been on this chair, but now he had to maintain composure and above all not miss this flight getting him closer to home.