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

by Armstrong, Ava

  Ben laughed. “He looks like a mummy.”

  The men exited the building and drove by the site of the burial that was not completed. Elvis stopped for five minutes and shoveled the rest of the dirt onto the grave and hopped back into the truck as it remained idling. “He’s buried.”

  Before daylight they made their way back to Dera Ghazi Khan and the bunker beneath the cement factory. Saleh was blindfolded and remained very quiet, Ben observed. He wondered just how much this young man knew and began to develop a plan to interrogate him. The young boy he was burying had some meaning to him, and he must have felt the truck stop and heard the shoveling sounds as they finished the grave properly. This would be the starting point. Ben would handle this young man differently than all the rest. He knew there was a strong connection to Salib Madi, the major terrorist kingpin they were hunting. But how could he get to him?

  The men were getting settled while the day above ground began. There was little sound in the bunker, except that of the trucks rumbling above and the continual grinding and growling of the cement making equipment. Ben scrolled through the pictures on his phone one more time, looking at Madi then at Saleh. There was a slight resemblance. It was the eyes.

  ~ Lara ~

  Panic set in as she searched outside for the detectives charged with watching over her. She sent them a text but no answer. Her first instinct was to contact Rusty.

  His familiar voice answered on the first ring, “What’s up?”

  Lara whispered into the phone, “The detectives are nowhere to be seen. I have an awful feeling, you know, hackles.”

  “Not a good sign. Call the department?” Rusty asked.

  “No. I haven’t yet. Maybe it’s just my imagination. The detectives might be purposefully out of sight. But I sent a text to them and got no answer. That made me think something might have happened.”

  “I’ll be there in a few minutes. Leaving right now.” Rusty uttered and his phone went dead.

  Lara ruminated for a moment. If, in fact, something happened to the detectives, she had to call the head of the detective division. She dialed the number and heard his curt voice. “Redman.”

  “It’s Mrs. Keegan.”

  Redman answered, “Yes, ma’am. How can I help you?”

  “The detectives are nowhere to be seen. I tried to contact them, but no answer.”

  A loud noise outside interrupted her call. Monique’s eyes met Lara’s for a second.

  “They’re here…get someone to help me,” Lara whispered into the phone and ended the call. She grabbed her handgun off her hip.

  She motioned to Monique to move into the middle guest room upstairs and told her to close the door. “Get on the floor, behind the dresser and stay there, no matter what you hear.” Lara slid open a drawer and pulled out another gun, handing it to Monique muzzle down. “Take this. It’s a Smith and Wesson revolver, it’s loaded. Don’t point it at anyone unless you’re going to pull the trigger. If they make it past me, you kill them. So, go upstairs and keep the barrel pointed away from you. Got it? I’m coming right up behind you and will set up in the window.”

  Lara knew her best shot would be from upstairs, and drew her Glock19 and waited, pressing her body against the wall for cover. She listened as the men set off the security alarm. The steel door made it difficult to gain entry so they broke a window and entered that way. They had to know it would only be minutes before police would arrive.

  Lara could hear them as they walked from the kitchen through the dining room and into the living room. The television was still on low, but she could hear their voices. As she caught a glimpse of them moving beneath the staircase. She saw the face of Aaron Brown. They had weapons visible. They were here to kill her. They’d killed Officer Simpson. She took a deep breath and let it out. There would be no warning, as Rusty had taught her, just aim and pull the trigger.

  As the two men stepped onto the first stair, she peeked around the corner. They had guns drawn. She would have to be fast to hit them both center mass, or it would be mayhem.

  Lara slid down the wall to shrink her target profile, then wheeled around in a crouch, gun raised.

  The nice thing about stairs is that they created a perfect bottleneck. The area of maneuverability would be limited. These jerks had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Shooting down the stairs, blindly, she’d be almost certain to hit some part of someone. Shooting straight down the middle would almost guarantee a hit.

  But, she wasn't blind firing. At this distance, she could put two nice neat holes in Tim's head. Instead, she went for the more reliable shot in the center of his chest. She pulled the trigger.

  Tim's body met the impact of the bullets and staggered. He took a step back down the stairs, and Aaron caught him before Tim could fall any further.

  At that moment, with Tim bleeding profusely atop Aaron, Lara observed two things very clearly.

  One, Tim held a MP5k-PDW submachinegun, a dangerous weapon for her to contend with.

  Two, there was no blood on Tim's chest – he was wearing Kevlar.

  Lara dove back behind the cover of the wall as Tim opened up with a stream of fully-automatic fire. Thankfully, automatic fire was difficult to aim even if you didn't feel as though you'd been punched in the chest by sheet metal.

  She heard the three-round burst fired on semi-automatic. That must have been Aaron. She silently chastised herself for not taking the headshot when she had the opportunity.

  Then something surprising happened; they retreated.

  Lara wasn't going to have that. She charged down the stairs, gun low and by her side, and took up a Weaver stance by the doorway. She shot at them as they hopped into a different vehicle, which looked like a Dodge Charger, and squealed tires out of the driveway. She fired single, carefully placed rounds until her magazine ran dry.

  “Damn it!” she yelled.

  Ten minutes elapsed before several police cars, Rusty and his friend, Carter, converged on the scene. “Good job, Mrs. Keegan.” The responding officers touched her shoulder. “Are you all right, ma’am?”

  “Yes. I’m fine. What happened to the detectives guarding us?” Lara asked. She could tell by Rusty’s demeanor the answer wasn’t going to be a good one.

  “We found them in the side yard. Dead, ma’am. We’ll do ballistics and set up the crime scene for analysis, but it’s pretty obvious what happened here. They killed the two detectives outside. We believe they’re the same suspects in Officer Simpson’s death. You’re a brave woman.”

  “Just pissed.”

  “Copy that.”

  The crime scene experts arrived, and Lara sat on a chair in the kitchen feeling numb.

  Rusty brought a weeping Monique out of the upstairs guest room. Monique was shivering and repeated, “Lara, what happened to Lara?”

  “She is okay, it’s over.” Lara heard Rusty speaking calmly as he put his arm around Monique’s shoulder. “It’s all right now.” Lara listened to his soothing voice, wishing she could be lulled into a sense of security right now, but knew better.

  In the kitchen at Clearwater Farm, they walked through the details.

  She sensed that Rusty was on high alert as he spoke calmly, methodically, calculating the next move. “If these two guys know where Ben lives, most likely there are others who have this information. Pack a bag and drive up to Wisdom Lake for the next few days. It’s cold outside and the Lake is frozen, but Alvin’s got it nice and toasty up there.”

  The plan was for Rusty’s friend, Carter, to wear a long dark wig, which Rusty had cleverly brought with him, and he’d drive Lara’s Mercedes in a southerly direction on Interstate 95. Lara, Monique, and Rusty would take Carter’s Jeep Cherokee on a long four-hour drive north to a place few people knew existed. To get a head start, Carter, slipped on the long, dark wig, and Lara’s coat. Mimicking her body movements, he hopped into Lara’s Mercedes and started driving south. Within forty minutes, Rusty had a text from him. “Being followed. Will give them a long
run.”

  Lara’s phone rang, and she listened to Captain Redman as he gave her details. “Mrs. Keegan, it might be best if you could lay low for a while. Do you have another place you could stay for a few days until we gather more information? From what we can tell, the leak was from someone in the State Department to a terror cell – the Islamic State – ma’am – are you there?”

  Lara exhaled, “Oh God, the State Department? What about Ben? Will he be safe? How much detail was leaked?”

  Redman paused, then said, “Ben’s name and home address was included in the data. This makes you a target. Can you get far away to a secluded location?”

  Lara didn’t like his tone, it raised her hackles. “Yes, I can. In fact, I’m heading out now.” Einstein licked her face as he leaned against her. “I have guns and plenty of ammo. I will keep out of sight until I hear from you Captain Redman.”

  “Good.” Redman seemed relieved. “I’ll be in touch. We know your husband, ma’am and respect him greatly. Please know, we will do everything within our power to get as much information as we can to contain the situation. Talk soon.”

  The call ended and even though Lara felt she should have faith in Captain Redman, she didn’t. She couldn't even trust the federal government, and she was supposed to trust the local government? Good Lord. The State Department. She couldn’t imagine how or why this happened and wanted answers.

  Rusty looked at her, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  Lara exhaled, “You want to come, too.”

  “Yup.” He muttered solemnly. “I’ve got a stash of clothing and supplies up there. Let’s go.”

  After packing a few belongings, Monique and Lara got into the Jeep Cherokee as Rusty pulled onto Interstate 95 heading north to a destination located somewhere between Mud Pond and Wisdom Lake….off the map, so to speak. Off the grid. Rusty drove as Lara sent a text to the caretaker, Alvin. See you in four hours or so. Urgently need to see you for a taxidermy project.

  The text back simply said, Yup.

  Pakistan

  ~ Ben ~

  It was the last chance to extract information from Saleh. Ben would pull out the stops. There was something about this young man, he couldn’t decipher it just yet – but the young boy he was in the process of burying meant something to him. Ben had to get the details -- get inside his head.

  After sleeping and eating, Ben allowed his prisoner to use the bathroom with him standing at the doorway. His plan seemed to be working. By not interrogating Saleh immediately and roughing him up, the young man seemed to be softening, just a little. He’d made eye contact with him a couple of times while eating.

  It was a wretched place, really, the bunker beneath the cement factory. No frills, but a tiny private room gave him the solitude he needed. Ben glanced at his phone with the knowledge he had exactly two hours before the team had to be packed and out of there. The other men were loading up, getting ready to leave as darkness descended above ground.

  He found the photos of William on his phone, and kept Saleh bound to a chair in the small room. This question and answer session would be different. He showed the photo of William to Saleh. “This is my son.” Ben scrolled through six or seven photos of William slowly.

  He watched as Saleh’s eyes roamed over the photos and could tell he was gauging the age of the child. “How old was the boy you were burying?” Ben asked gently. He watched Saleh’s demeanor soften, and imagined he was recalling the task of shoveling dirt onto the boy’s body when the Dark Horse Guardians snatched him.

  “How old is the boy in the photo, your son?” Saleh asked predictably.

  “He just turned ten.” Ben said. “I miss him very much. As a soldier, I do not get to see my son very often, but I love him. He means a lot to me. Soon, he will be a man. I have many things to teach him. A father is important in a young man’s life.”

  Saleh’s eyes changed at the mention of a father…there was a hardening, a defiance. Saleh averted his eyes. Ben sensed there was something there. Not sure what, he continued to probe. Ben continued, “I love my father. I want my son to love me the same way. And, to respect me.”

  “Respect.” Saleh nearly spat the word. “I do not understand that term.”

  “What is your father like?” Ben asked quietly.

  “My father is not someone I want to talk about.” Saleh turned away.

  “What has he done to make you feel this way?” Ben continued.

  Saleh was silent but thinking. Ben sensed this young man had tumultuous emotions running through him.

  “How old are you, Saleh?” Ben asked.

  “Seventeen.” Saleh answered flatly. “I am no longer a boy and haven’t been for a long time.”

  “When did you become a man?” Ben queried.

  “When I killed my first infidel.” Saleh answered. “You must understand. I do not love my father, and I do not respect my father. I obey him.”

  “Is that what happened to the young boy. You killed him and buried him because you were obeying your father?” Ben was now fishing for answers.

  “No.” Saleh’s eyes were defiant as they met Ben’s. “My father killed him. He was my brother. I took care of him when my mother died. It was my responsibility to bury him, properly. Just like I buried my mother. She was twenty when she died. Only three years older than I am right now.”

  For a moment, Ben was taken aback by the brutality of the scene Saleh most likely witnessed. “You saw this happen?”

  Saleh’s eyes welled with the beginning of tears, but he suddenly turned away. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “I have a feeling you hate your father, but you don’t dare to say the words.” Ben was right there at the edge, he could feel it. Saleh was going to tell him everything.

  Ben opened a bottle of Coke and gave Saleh a drink. He said it was his favorite drink. After a few gulps, his dark eyes met Ben’s. “My father is a killer. I am afraid he will kill me, especially after this. That’s if you don’t kill me first.”

  “I don’t want to kill you, Saleh.” Ben stated. “In fact, I think you are an intelligent young man.”

  “Not really…” Saleh replied. “Abdul is the intelligent one.”

  “Who is Abdul?” Ben asked.

  “And, Ibrahim. He is favored, too,” Saleh replied, his eyes glassy as if remembering something.

  “Who is Ibrahim?” Ben quizzed.

  Then, as if a flurry of emotion hit him, Saleh began talking. Ben listened as the young man before him erupted with a passionate diatribe. “Abdul and Ibrahim are my older brothers. But, we have different mothers. My mother is dead. Their mother is alive. They are charged with finding you, Keegan. There’s a bounty on your head, half million. Abdul and Ibrahim told my father they have found you, or someone close to you. That is why he favors them. My father said they are real men, and I am not.” Saleh hung his head as if he was ashamed to continue.

  “Where is Abdul, where is Ibrahim?” Ben continued prodding. “Come on, Saleh. Tell me.”

  “They’re following you. I don’t know where they are right now,” Saleh said, defeated.

  “Listen to me,” Ben started. “I have a deal for you, if you want to do it. Are you interested?”

  “What deal?” Saleh’s head lifted slightly.

  “I will turn you loose and not speak of capturing you, but I need something in return.”

  Saleh’s demeanor brightened as a man who had just escaped the hangman’s noose. “What do you need?”

  “Information. You contact me. Let me know what Abdul, Ibrahim, and your father are doing every day. I will give you a phone number. But you would need to be able to deceive – do you understand? You would need to be smart, resourceful, creative….do you think you could do that?”

  Ben could see Saleh’s mind churning. His life was on the line. There was something else he wanted, but Ben didn’t know what it was. Then he said it. “My father. I want him dead. Do you understand? No one can know this.”<
br />
  “Trust me, this can be done, and no one will know you had anything to do with it. I need information. I will be your only contact. Before you leave, I need to know everything about Abdul and Ibrahim and your father. Every detail you can give me.” Ben exhaled. The deal was made and the information dump began in earnest.

  Forty minutes later he pulled Moshe aside. “He’s going to be an informant. I’m cutting him loose.”

  Ben saw shocked horror in Moshe’s eyes. “Have you lost your mind? This kid has seen us. He could identify us. He knows too much. We either kill him or take him prisoner. I don’t want to let him go.”

  “I seldom argue with you, but I know this is the right thing to do. This kid detests his father. The young boy he was burying was his brother. He watched his old man pump bullets into his little brother’s brain. If that’s not motivation, I don’t know what is. Plus, he’s given me a boatload of information about his father, Salib Madi and his two older brothers. Jesus, this will make your blood run cold.” Ben shoved the notes in front of Moshe. “Read some of this.”

  After a few minutes of reading, Moshe locked eyes with Ben’s. “We’ve got to get the hell out of here in a few minutes. If you really think this is going to work, then go ahead and kick him. But does he understand what will happen to him if he doesn’t live up to his end of the bargain?”

  “Yeah. I told him he’d be dead. And, he’d never know where or how or who, but it would happen.” Ben stated matter-of-factly.

  “All right. Let’s get out of this shithole as soon as possible. You take Saleh on a little ride, but bring some of the guys with you and don’t venture too far.”

  “I’ll be back in fifteen.” Ben said. He collected Saleh, still bound. Then quickly strapped on body armor and a few weapons. A pick-up truck from the cement facility was borrowed. Ben, Elvis, Tom and Saleh rode about ten miles down the paved road and pulled over. There was very little light, except for the slight glimmer of the stars and moon. In the headlights, Ben cut Saleh loose and hopped back in the truck.