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

by Armstrong, Ava

  “Yup.” Ben grimaced as he continued past Moshe’s vehicle. “He’s got a flat. I don’t know why he’s pulling into Bhakkar. I hate Bhakkar.”

  Moshe was back on the com, “Hey, I heard that. Bhakkar is where we are stopping. We know a garage there, it’s a friendly. We can change the two flats we have and get some extra tires and be on our way. I don’t want this caravan to be seen along the side of the road…it’s too obvious.”

  Elvis smiled as Ben rolled his eyes. “Shit, I could have those two flats changed in about ten minutes on the side of the road. I hate detours. You know that.”

  “Head to the center of Bhakkar. Wait to hear from me. There’s something else going on, too.” Moshe said his voice tinged with concern. Ben suddenly realized this was more than just a flat tire. Moshe wanted to deviate from their original course. But why? He did as he was told and blew past Moshe. Then, Ben turned around and slowed down. Backtracking, he approached the center of Bhakkar, a short distance away from the garage Moshe pulled into. Parking on the side of the road in darkness, he slumped against the door of the vehicle ready for a short snooze if Elvis would stay awake to watch.

  “Damn, I hate this time-wasting shit.” Ben muttered.

  ~ Abdul Rahman Shafir ~

  Abdul could not see well in the driving rain, but perched upon the roof of a building along the highway, he thought he saw the caravan he was expecting. Ten Humvees of varying colors passed by. They did not all come at one time. There were two or three at a time. They were exactly what he’d expect Keegan to be using.

  He spoke Punjabi into his phone. “It’s them, I think.”

  It was his good fortune that in the intelligence document, the United States had given the parameters of this mission, and he now had faces to put with the names of the infidels. If he killed or captured Lieutenant Ben Keegan, he’d be given a half-million dollar bounty. But better than that, he’d gain status in the Islamic organization. The entire twenty-five years of his life, Abdul had lived for a moment like this.

  However, Abdul knew he was in a precarious position. Killing Keegan would be much easier than capturing him. First he’d have to conquer the fear that rippled through him every time he thought about the man. Keegan’s reputation preceded him. More Humvees whizzed by heading in the general direction of Dera Ghazi Khan where Ibrahim Ismail waited. Abdul followed in the red Subaru. One of the vehicles had stopped by the side of the road and a dark haired man jumped out and checked the tires. The loosely held convoy continued on, but two Humvees pulled off to enter the center of Bhakkar, deviating from the course.

  This was unexpected. Abdul had to make a decision quickly, so he followed the disabled Humvee for two miles and watched it enter a garage. Abdul followed closely, but drove past those he followed as they pulled into the car repair facility. He drove by following the other vehicle into the center of Bhakkar and watched it park. The vehicle just sat there on the side of the street with the occupants inside. They were a short distance from the repair facility, as if they were watching, waiting.

  The markets and streets were quiet in the black rain-soaked night. The car repair business was closed, so Abdul couldn’t figure out why the men stopped there. Maybe they had plans to steal something, or there was something else going on. He coasted up the street and turned around, finally parking underneath the shadow of a large overhang from an adjacent building. From his vantage point, he could see the parked vehicle with the two men inside, and he was at an angle so he could view the Humvee if it pulled out of the facility. He stared in that general direction for what seemed like an hour.

  In Punjabi he whispered on his phone to Ibrahim, “Two of them have stopped in Bhakkar. I don’t know where the others are. They may have continued on to Dera Ghazi Khan.”

  “Stupid shithead.” Ibrahim hissed at him on the phone. “You lost Keegan? Or, is he in the vehicles you are following?”

  “It’s too dark to know who is in which vehicle. But it is definitely them. There are ten Humvees. Eight of them are out there somewhere. They continued on the highway as these two pulled off. What did you expect me to do?” Abdul felt his hackles rise. He felt as if someone was watching him.

  After hanging up with Ibramin, Abdul felt an eerie feeling alone in the dark. The car engine was silent and the only sound was the rain pelting on the metal roof he’d parked beneath. Visibility was almost zero, as an intense burst of rainfall pummeled the overhang and droplets bounced off the ground with force. Something about the garage down the street silently forbade him to drive by again. He watched the minutes tick by on the dashboard clock. Sixty-two minutes, and the rain wasn’t letting up. Ibrahim’s voice was impatient as he answered the vibrating phone. “What are you doing?”

  “Watching the garage. They’re inside. It’s been more than an hour,” Abdul said flatly.

  Pakistan

  ~ Ben ~

  Ben had peeled off right after Moshe’s Humvee took the off-ramp. Elvis noticed the Subaru following them miles ago. The ten Humvees planned a rendezvous point as two split off at the market in Bhakkar. Ben decided to do a little reconnaissance around the garage where Moshe’s Humvee was safely sheltered for the time being. That’s when he spied it. The Subaru. Sitting beneath the overhang of a building, it appeared the vehicle was empty.

  Moshe’s voice was in his ear. “We’re done. Making an exit.” Ben rolled up behind the Subaru allowing the headlights to shine through. Then backed up and pulled away.

  “Looks empty,” Ben muttered into his com.

  As Moshe’s vehicle drove out of the garage, Ben pulled behind him and followed to the rendezvous point on the highway. Once again the convoy was heading to Dera Ghazi Khan where they’d separate to take their targets.

  “I feel weird.” Ben glanced at Elvis. “Even though we’re in disguise and all that shit, I feel like someone’s been watching us.”

  “Nah. I thought that Subaru might have been following us, but there was no one in it.” Elvis assured him. Even though Elvis said the words, Ben wished he had inspected the car more closely just for peace of mind. He seldom let things like that go, and wondered why he’d let it pass this time. Now he wished he would’ve tossed it.

  “Chances are, it was just my imagination.” Ben said aloud, trying to convince himself at this point.

  “I don’t know, Chief. Wish you would’ve had me toss it.” Elvis read his mind.

  Ben thought for a moment. “If we see the same Subaru again, that would be a sure sign and we’ll take him out of commission. Or, better, capture the little bastard and find out why he’s following us.” Ben muttered to Moshe, “If you see that Subaru again, let me know. That just made me feel…funny.”

  “Could’ve been the police,” Moshe pondered on the com. “They’re known to ride undercover at night like that. They probably wondered what we’re up to. They’d not stop Humvees, however. Their own military rides around in them constantly. So, they most likely assumed we are military, their own. Hell, our appearance is such. Stop worrying about spooks, Chief. We have bigger fish to fry.”

  Ben continued driving as the rain abated. Finally. Another few hours and they’d be in Dera Ghazi Khan and the sun would be coming up. The men would split up after spending the day sleeping in a safe house there. Driving through the Afghanistan-Pakistan border area always put everyone on edge. But this time it felt different. Ben couldn’t put his finger on it. It was as if someone had a tail on him and now he didn’t think it was the Subaru. As the Humvees pulled into the town of Dera Ghazi Khan, he tried to focus on sleeping and eating. The cement factory came into view just before sunrise. Beneath the factory was a protected bunker.

  Moshe spoke to the owner, Tarek Noor, a longtime friend, in Urdo. The Humvees rolled inside and the men filed one-by-one into the well-lit chamber beneath the ground. As the city of Dera Ghazi Khan awoke, Moshe’s unit and the Dark Horse Guardians slept. Although Ben ate and washed up, he could not relax enough to sleep. Not just yet. He remembered killi
ng a man in this town seven years earlier. The victim had wandered into a skirmish he had no stake in, but Ben mistook him for an enemy. In reality, he would never know if the man was an enemy or an innocent victim of circumstance. But he remembered later the last name was Madi. It was a common name in this region of the world.

  Moshe stuck his head into the tiny room, “Get some sleep. You look like hell.”

  Ben waved him off, “Yeah, right. See you in a few hours.” But he knew sleep would not come for a bit longer. The thought of Lara filtered into his mind once or twice as he planned the route he’d take for the coming evening of mayhem. He had to call her. Communicating with her would serve two purposes. One, she’d know he was all right. And, two, he’d know she was, too. But it was deeper than that. He made a silent vow to himself that this would be the last overseas mission. The longing for her was overwhelming at times, so much so, it was pushing him further into the depression he constantly fought. He tapped the satellite phone and listened as it finally rang through. It was early morning where he was, so early evening for Lara. Her cheery voice made him smile.

  “Darlin-- I’m just hitting the sack for a few hours, thinking of you, I love you…” he murmured into the satellite phone, wishing he could video chat with her. But that wasn’t such a good idea. This would be a short call.

  Her response melted him, “Ben, oh Ben…I miss you so much. You’re okay? Everything is all right? That’s all I need to know. Are you finished?”

  “No darlin, but nearly done. I miss kissing you goodnight and eating dinner with you…and Einstein.” Oh damn, he felt a lump in his throat. His eyes filled as tears slowly moved down his face. He made the mistake of envisioning Lara there having dinner with Einstein at her feet in the kitchen. For a split second he had allowed himself the luxury of being transported, and knew it was a mistake. He let the tears slide down his face as Lara spoke. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Focus on the mission. Monique’s with me and Rusty. I just want you safe. I’m thrilled that you called. I can’t wait for you to be home, for this to be over. I want you to kiss me and hold me. Tell me everything will be just fine, like you always do.” She sounded so normal, so happy to hear from him. He heard her breathing on the other end of the call. The connection had a slight delay, but other than that, it felt as if Lara was in the room with him.

  After listening to her sweet, feminine voice filled with excitement, he whispered, “I’ve got to go. I love you.” He heard her say, “I love you, too, Ben.” He disconnected. Once more he took her shirt and wiped the tears from his face, hoping none of the men witnessed his emotion. He turned on a map light and studied the GPS coordinates. He remembered the Fort Munro area, even though he’d only passed this way once.

  The town of Dera Ghazi Khan served as a junction to the four provinces of Pakistan. Ben’s targets lived in the higher elevation setting of Fort Munro away from the dusty, hot climate of Dera Ghazi Khan. Fort Munro was the only place with clear cool water. It rose over a mile above sea level and brought visitors and residents seeking to escape the heat of the summer. But now it was quiet, isolated. The visiting families and school trips for recreation were not present. This was the winter season. The less people around, the better.

  Before sleeping, he moved across the room and Gus was going through the same drill with his map light. “Hey, what’s up?”

  “You ready for this?” Ben whispered.

  “Hell, yeah.” Gus smiled. “These bastards are not the usual suspects. They’re war criminals, the worst of the worst. I’m more than ready. I mean, Jesus, Ben – its Madi and his band of criminals. I’ve been waiting for this for a long time. You know what I mean. This is for Sam and Javier and all the bullets all of us have taken along the way. Madi’s murderous brother is six-feet under because of you. Yeah. I want these bastards dead.”

  “I mean are you ready for whatever might happen?” Ben swallowed hard. Gus would be his spotter; they’d worked together a hundred times, maybe more. It was a plain and simple assassination. But nothing was ever plain and simple in this part of the world.

  “Yeah. I’m ready. What’s the latest intel on our targets?” Gus asked, his blue eyes staring into his.

  “They’re in the house. We just need to gain entry. They have an elaborate security system but no dogs. You know how these idiots feel about dogs. That’s all good for us. I’ve already looked at what they have for security. I can hack it within a minute. I just want to make sure you are up for the challenge. You know…” Ben rested his hand on the big man’s shoulder. “Aw, shit, you are. Goodnight.”

  Ben watched as Gus curled his long lean body into a ball and fell asleep instantly. He wished the hell he could do that right now. Ben moved to his tiny corner of the room and got comfortable with Lara’s shirt wrapped around what was supposed to be a pillow. Ants and cockroaches scurried around the sub-basement in the darkness. Ben couldn’t hear them but he could feel them. He left the map light on and it kept some of them at bay.

  After ten hours in the underground tomb, the men made their way to the Humvees. The new equipment surpassed their wildest expectations. Wearing the G’s at night was like working in the daytime. The clarity and resolution was superior and the com was much improved. The office building of the cement factory had emptied. The workers were gone for the day.

  The 275,000 inhabitants of the city were readying themselves for the coming evening. The din of traffic waned and the ritual routines of dinner and bedtime arrived for the masses, as a herd being driven by a dinner bell. Ben sat in stillness, eating, as he watched the sun slip behind the mountainous terrain he’d be navigating in the next few hours. As nighttime fell, the team split up and drove in opposite directions.

  There were seven large mosques in the area and the call to prayer was haunting. Every time he heard the mournful chanting, it brought him back to the beginning of it all. His first deployment in Iraq. The years in Afghanistan. Visions flashed through his mind in a second. Dead brothers he could not save. Killing, sleeping, eating, and killing more of them. It seemed he had come full circle. The cities of Iraq and Afghanistan his brothers fought and died for were now overrun with radical Islamists hell bent on a reign of destruction. Screw the Caliphate and the whole damned lot of them. This wasn’t religion; it was more like the plague and only men like him were the antidote.

  Living amongst the faithful as an undercover adversary for the past few years brought so much to light. The House of Saud was the epicenter for Wahhabism, the strict doctrine of Islamic faith. He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly, remembering the horrors brought upon the world because of this purveyor of evil. He clearly understood why eliminating them was so easy. It was kill or be killed in their sick twisted world. He had witnessed the slaughter of thousands of innocent Christians, Jews, Kurds, or other Muslims who chose not to follow their horrific doctrine, if it could even be called that, for the very word doctrine implied principles. There were no principles involved, as he recalled the vivid images of dead bodies tortured and mutilated. Those images were always in his mind just before he pulled the trigger or plunged the knife. Yes, they made it easy to kill them.

  “You okay, Chief?” Gus spoke, bringing him out of a bloody reverie.

  “Yeah, good. Let’s do this.” Ben glanced at the satellite image on his phone and read the latest text message. “They’re right where we want them right now. Let’s hope they stay put.”

  Gus managed a tight-lipped smile, “Let’s hope.” He grabbed his HK M23 and plenty of ammo, and a Sig Sauer P226 for back-up.

  The battered vehicle they drove was not built for speed or agility, but it blended in with the landscape and the populace. The Chevy pick-up from the cement factory was not bulletproof. In fact, it was rusty and more than ten years old, but had two new tires in the bed covering their gear. Ben held the MK11 sniper rifle with a 20 round mag, QD scope rings, and a high definition mil-dot laser. He’d affix the swivel-base bipod on a mount and attach the sound supp
ressor once they found the right spot to set up. The free-floating 20 inch barrel and rail accessory system allowed for extreme accuracy. Although this weapon fired a 7.62 round, it was not capable of fully automatic fire. But this was his go-to sniper rifle for many years. It was so comfortable, it felt like part of his body while a Navy SEAL deployed in the Middle East. His best shot had been in Ramadi at a forward operating base. He hit a target in the chest as far away as 1,500 yards.

  Approaching the fig orchard, Gus parked the truck and the two silently unloaded and strapped on every piece of gear in total darkness. The ground was saturated and muddy from the heavy rain. Their G’s were attached and checked. The two made their way closer to the house which was barely visible through the thicket of trees and outbuildings. Every so often, they’d stop and listen for any sound other than that of nature. There was a stillness in the mountains, and the only noise was that of their footsteps making soft sucking sounds in the mud. Ben checked his phone for the weather again. The rain had passed and he was relieved it was a windless night. This always enhanced target accuracy.

  Waving his right arm, Gus found the spot. Moving slowly, methodically, Gus built a blind to cover himself and Ben moved around to the East side of the house. Several vehicles were parked there and Ben immediately recognized one – the Subaru. There were many Subaru cars and SUV’s driven in this part of the world, but this one stood out for some reason. Maybe because it was red, the same color as the one he had seen earlier. Or maybe in the darkness he was imagining it was the same color.

  Turning toward the hillside that was at the foot of a mountain, he made the ascent to a flat spot with good cover and set up shop. He laid out the 20-round magazines and fixed the tripod taking time to breathe and relax while attending to the finest details.

  “Hey.” He heard Gus breathe over the com.

  “What.” Ben answered.

  “It’s that Subaru.”