A Sense of Duty: A Former Navy SEAL Falls in Love and Begins a New Journey with his Private Consulting Company: Dark Horse Guardians (22 page)

BOOK: A Sense of Duty: A Former Navy SEAL Falls in Love and Begins a New Journey with his Private Consulting Company: Dark Horse Guardians
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The next morning Lara woke to Einstein's bark. He needed to go outside. She slid out of bed and into her white cotton robe and slippers. She brought Einstein outside for his morning business. She wondered where Ben was. Who was he with? What he was doing?
Several more days and he would be home. Lara showered and dressed. Then she took Einstein for a long walk past the beautiful purple Victorian house with the ocean view. She missed Ben, even though she received daily texts from him filled with tender words.

 

~Ben in Pakistan~

Ben wondered what Lara would think of him dressed in a burka. He was shuttled in a
bulky armored vehicle in the middle of the night in Bhakkar Pakistan to meet with Nazmin. Her underground bunker was well concealed not far from the Afghanistan border. Ben's history with Nazmin dated back to his first tour of duty. Sympathetic to the cause for freedom, especially for women under the thumb of archaic laws in that part of the world, she frequently assisted Ben with intel for missions. It was imperative that Nazmin remain in the shadows regarding her work. Ben knew the drill.

He was disguised as an Islamic woman with full burka. Several other men, bodyguards, were dressed as women and surrounded him as he walked through the first layer of security. Concealed this way he was allowed to keep his body armor, HK416 and ammo strapped to his
chest for this meeting. They met under the pretext of attending a women's prayer group. Nazmin played hostess to many such overnight meetings. There was always the chance that one of these gatherings would be crashed by radicals in the area utilizing gunfire or incendiary devices. Taliban patrols were ever present in the region.

Ben was thankful for the burka as it kept out the dirt and dust that seemed to permeate everything in this country. Although some areas of Pakistan were considered metropolitan, that description would not apply to Nazmin's property. This was a region of rural farmers and Nazmin kept a large poultry farm. The stench was sharp. Ben's sense of hearing was on high alert for anything that did not sound right. The men dressed in burkas spoke in falsetto voices in Urdu and occasionally giggled. Their kabuki theater had to be as real as possible.

The smell of this place triggered memories Ben preferred not to relive. Helmand and Kandahar came to mind. Ben had been captured in Helmand and savagely tortured. Some of his teeth were pulled out and fingernails ripped off. He was then burned with cigarettes and lacerated with rusty razor blades. Suspended upside down for hours on end, he said nothing. He urinated and defecated in the small cell, but he slept as much as he could. His plan was to wear them down and grab a weapon when the time was right. As long as he could sleep and get water, he could come back for more. His brothers doubled back and found him two days later with Moshe's guidance. He smiled as he recalled their reunion hours later in the safety of Camp Bastion.

Nazmin's building contained a safe room in a bunker for their private meeting. A small group of dark skinned paramilitary men were in front of the place and secondary group inside the farmhouse. Ben spoke to the men in Urdu, and was admitted into the bunker without delay. Even Nazmin's people believed he was female. He always felt uneasy in this corner of the world. Life was cheap here. He wanted to get in and get out as swiftly as possible without detection. The group of men dressed in burkas stayed upstairs in the farmhouse for the prayer meeting. Nazmin took Ben down to the hidden bunker door and within a few minutes they were alone in a
subterranean basement. Candles were burning. In the tomb alone with Nasmin there were security cameras watching every angle of her property. Ben was amazed at the level of secrecy Nazmin kept in this underground vault. She read by candlelight while she kept one eye on the high-tech security cameras scanning the surrounding area. The information Nazmin was about to disclose could not be carried by a UPS or FedEx courier.

There could be no electronic contact with Nazmin for her own protection. She gave him detailed information about a terror group forming in the Western Massachusetts area. She gave him names, addresses, and photographs of the suspects. Ben put the information into an envelope and would burn it once utilized. The meeting lasted two hours. When finished, Ben peeled off two hundred thousand dollars and handed it to Nazmin for the information. He made a swift exit with the group of burkas as a sliver of daylight started to edge above the desert horizon. He was on the private jet leaving the area by mid-morning and had packed his burka in the carry-on bag
. Meanwhile, Ben's mind was working on how to take the terrorists out in Western Massachusetts and make it look like someone else did it. Ideas were already brewing.

These clandestine meetings were now the only form of overseas travel that Ben forced himself to undertake. These visits could not be handed off to anyone else. The contacts trusted him only. Ben knew how important the bond of confidence was and respectfully kept it sacred. He sent a message to Lara utilizing an encrypted satellite phone, "Missing you." He had several photographs of Lara on his phone and slowly scrolled through them before falling asleep. His favorite was the one he captured
as they sat on the porch glider eating breakfast. Her green eyes were beautiful and she was smiling. He closed his eyes and kept her image in his mind. As was his habit, he slept on the plane.

 

~ Ben in Dubai~

Ben's next meeting was to be
with King Sahim. Dubai being the main city in the United Arab Emirates Federation, it was located on the southeastern coast of the Persian Gulf. As the jet landed in the blackness of night, a white armor-plated bullet proof limousine arrived and quickly swept Ben away. He was now dressed in white robes with a beard, dark make-up, turban with different sunglasses. The meeting place was an opulent skyscraper overlooking the Persian Gulf. It was daybreak and the contingent that came out to meet Ben at the vehicle was dressed in white with AK's strapped to their bodies. The king had layers of security; body guards were expendable as there had been three or four deaths a year in that position. Ben knew because he contracted for Sahim to set up an impenetrable security force when he started Dark Horse and that's how he made his first few million. The men swept Ben for listening devices and he surrendered his firearms and knives. He had been through this drill before and trusted Sahim and knew the men guarding him.

Inside, Sahim and Ben embraced and the two spoke to one another in Arabic. The king voiced concerns to Ben about the United States losing the counter-terrorism battle on their own turf. He had valuable intel to share with Ben. There were terrorists setting up shop in the Northeastern United States. Men and women living in America were traveling to Pakistan, Syria, Libya, Lebanon, Egypt and Yemen for guerilla training and returning to live a seemingly normal American life, blending into society in the United States.

Sahim was in deep cover and was taking a huge risk meeting with Ben. His information came from major players on the ground in the war-torn countries. Informants: it was amazing how they could be cultivated with revenge and the desire to take out their competition in the underworld they lived in. Sahim provided names, addresses, coordinates, and photographs of those living in the United States who had been to the training camps. The face-to-face meeting was important as Ben knew he was building Sahim's trust and support. The king handed an envelope to Ben. The envelope and its contents would be burned once he had utilized the details. There would be no evidence or record of this meeting. Sahim thanked Ben for his dedication to the cause. He joked about cloning Ben and hiring him to run the ground game in war-torn Syria. His concerns were grave regarding the savage violence that was spreading through the Middle East from Egypt, Lebanon, and Syria, and now pouring into Iraq and Jordan. All of the good work done by the United States in Iraq and Afghanistan was being undone in a short period of time. Sahim thanked Ben. The two men embraced briefly and Ben was given his weapons, then whisked back to Moshe's plane and taken away. At 5:00 in the morning, Ben was at the Dubai airport. He immediately got into a fetal position and slept on the private jet. Before drifting into sleep, Ben thought about Lara, missing her more than ever. He sent a text to her, "Thinking of you tonight."

~Lara~

Sensing that Ben could be returning with a Christmas gift for her, Lara called upon an old friend to provide a unique present for her handsome Navy SEAL Lieutenant. She dialed the number for Rupert Jensen. When in his vintage shop several weeks ago shopping for a client, she had noticed a gold coin of the Parisii tribe of ancient Gaul, 100-50 B.C. There were few things she could buy for Ben that would have true meaning. Ben was a person who had a handful of possessions, but the small group of items he collected held some significance. The shop phone rang once, then twice. Then she heard his voice, "Rupert Jensen," she was relieved to hear him answer. He was still there. "Rupert, it's me, Lara. I need a favor. May I come by right away to purchase the ancient coin I was admiring a few weeks ago?" Rupert was just closing up the shop but said he'd wait for her.

She hopped into the Fiat and drove to his shop in record time. Rupert's place looked like something out of a 1950's movie. It was a strange little building with bars on the windows and security cameras everywhere. At one time it had been a residence, but the Gothic style house had been modified for his business, "Jensen's Rare Treasures." The outside light was on, but the door was locked. She rang the bell and Rupert appeared. He was a short round man in his 70's with a head of snow white hair. "I have it all ready for you, Lara. I hope you remember what the item cost." He gave Lara a playful little smile. "Oh yes, Rupert, I remember. It's a gift for someone very special." She had the beautiful rare coin placed in a small box and paid Rupert the outrageous amount of money from her savings account. "I didn't know there was a special man in your life, Lara. Glad to hear it. I am sure he will appreciate this. He will if he's an Irishman." It would be worth it to see Ben's face when he held the rare coin in his hand. There were very few of these left in existence. Rupert had been haggling with a museum and Lara snatched it up before the deal could be done. It was karma.

 

~Ben in Jordan~

Arriving in Bethany Jordan, Ben was well aware that this was the biblical place where Jesus wandered for forty days and started his ministry. Jordan was a country of contrasts, stark desert landscapes and towering mountains. Today at sunset he would meet Ismail in a safe house far into the desert. In Bethany, near the Jordan River, Ben was picked up by an up-armored Ford Expedition,
strictly utilized for undercover operations. Ben was acutely aware that he was entering a zone that was militarily sensitive and Ismail arranged for his escorts. Since the influx of Syrians, Jordan had increased military patrols considerably. Ben was especially wary of passing through checkpoints. He knew there was one along the Dead Sea Highway near the sensitive border with Israel. He would be waved through the checkpoints today. He was dressed in the white robes, beard, and sunglasses; posing as a visiting dignitary from Iraq with a perfectly forged passport.

The visit with Ismail would be brief tonight. Ismail was the general manager of a construction company with clients in the energy business. The building Ben would enter was well secured and covered with cameras. There was valuable equipment inside along with a substantial cache of weapons. Any company doing business in this area of the world hired small armies to keep their investment safe. Ismail met with Ben alone in a small private office in the center of the compound. The workers were off for the night and except for the security guards, the place was eerily quiet. It was almost too quiet for Ben's comfort level, and he was glad he had weapons and grenades hidden beneath his voluminous robes, just in case. Information was given to Ben regarding an Al-Qaeda affiliate that was forming in Jordan. Since the Iraq war, and now with the Syrian conflict, there had been an influx of radicals organizing in Jordan with the intent to take over Jordan and to do harm to the United States.

In particular, there was a plot in the works for New Britain Connecticut. Ismail gave Ben the names and photographs of those at the top of the food chain and information regarding their movements in the past few months. Some of the information was word of mouth, but Ismail believed his sources were to be trusted. Ismail's motivation to help Ben was two-fold. His country was being overrun by radicals, thus the tenants of democracy were in great jeopardy. Secondly, he knew if the United States was infiltrated and weakened by these radicals, they could not respond, if and when, help might be needed in Jordan. Survival was a strong instinct and drove many of Ben's informants to help him. Ismail was worried about his own safety and the peaceful monarchy in Jordan falling apart. Ben understood. Leaving Ismail, he made a three-hour journey back to the airport and entered the private jet. Now, he prepared to meet with his confidential informant in Iraq.

Just the thought of going to Iraq
caused beads of sweat to form on his upper lip. He was tired but forced himself to review the encrypted notes for the coming meeting. As he curled up on the plane, he thought about Lara and wondered what she was doing right now. His baggage and weaponry were securely packed. He immediately dozed off from sheer exhaustion once the plane was in flight. Startled awake, his hand automatically reached for his side arm; another bad dream. He woke sweating and drank a bottle of cold water just as the plane was making its descent to Adder, one of the last remaining U.S. air bases in Iraq.

 

~Lara~

Arriving home, Lara removed Einstein's leash and sat with him briefly on the back porch. The fresh December air was invigorating and Lara could not stop thinking about Ben. Where was he now? Was he safe? Who was he with? A workout with Don Henderson at the dojo was always the best prescription to put her mind at ease. With frustrations to unleash, she got into the Fiat and drove to the martial arts center. Approaching the dojo, she spied Eric getting out of his vehicle. He immediately saw her. He waved her down with enthusiasm. They both stopped inside for a bottle of cold water. She had a butt-kicking workout to get through. Eric wanted to join Lara and she welcomed him. In the locker room, she washed her face, applied lipstick and pulled back her long thick hair. Slipping into a white cotton Lycra top and pants, Lara drank the bottle of cold water before she started. Eric sat with her silently on the mat meditating for fifteen minutes. She could tell by his eyes that he was bursting to talk with her, but he took time to get centered. The two practiced deep breathing and stretched for a few minutes. Finally, Lara turned and made eye contact with Eric and he spoke.

"I had a great time talking with you last night, Lara." She blushed and thanked him again for the quick dinner and entertaining stories. "Can I come over to walk Einstein tonight?" Lara paused. "If you win the match, then you can join me for a walk." Lara had a raucous kicking punching, grappling martial arts work out. An hour later, they were both covered in sweat and panting heavily. She had taken him off his feet a dozen times in a dozen different ways. Eric was either letting her win or he had no martial arts skills. Whatever the case, Eric was out of breath, "Meet me out here after the shower." Lara said breathing heavily and sweating. She had kicked some of her frustration away. Freshly showered, they met at the smoothie bar and drank heartily. "Great work out." He said. "Yes", Lara said, "Thanks, I needed that."

Eric walked Lara to her car in the parking lot, "What are you doing today?" he asked leaning on the Fiat. Their eyes locked for a moment. "I have errands to run." Lara said calmly. "Let me tag along." Eric begged sounding like a child. Lara
hesitated, but finally agreed. "First I have to go home and change my clothing." Eric hopped into the front seat of the Fiat, "Let's go!" Smiling at her, Eric had the innocence of a four year old. His six-foot one inch frame barely fit into her Fiat. The tight quarters in the Fiat forced Lara to notice Eric's freshly showered fragrance. He smelled wonderfully clean, it was a citrus smell combined with mint. How could she kick him out of her car? It would be entertaining, if nothing else, to allow him to join her for errands. She indulged Eric and allowed him to come along with her.

Waiting for Lara to get dressed, Eric sat in her kitchen as he spoke affectionately to Einstein. She quickly changed in the bedroom into street clothing. Lara could hear Eric's voice in the kitchen as he spoke to the dog. He was warm and caring, an animal lover, like her. She heard him pop the top on a beer while she slipped into a charcoal gray turtleneck and matching pants. Slipping on the hot pink wool jacket, she picked up her cell phone and leather sack and was ready to go. "Oops, one moment" Lara said as she looked into the mirror in the entry. She slicked on pale pink lipstick and pulled her long black hair into a side pony tail, carefully securing it. "My god", Eric uttered with wonder, "you really have no idea how amazing you look, do you?" Lara laughed at his compliment and said, "No, Eric, I do not think I look amazing right now." They bounded down the stairs and Lara sensed Eric's eyes on her as she drove.

It was a hustle and bustle day, in and out of the grocery, bank, and pet store. After a few hours, Lara's errands were completed; suddenly it was late afternoon. She thought Eric would be bored to tears but he made every moment of the outing exciting and fun. He was helpful in the store finding the foods on her list. He selected special dog toys for Einstein as she purchased dog food. He even made her laugh at the bank. Eric had a sense of humor that was delightful and magnetic. A few times in the grocery store, he removed the barrette from her hair allowing her long dark hair to escape. He was good at doing this without Lara noticing. People were drawn to Eric, even complete strangers. Every time she made eye contact with him he had a slight grin and a glimmer in those deep set blue eyes as if he knew something she did not know. Eric's appeal was disarming.

Back at the apartment, Eric put Lara's food away in the cupboard and fridge and played with Einstein. "Do you want a beer?" he asked politely. "No thanks; but help yourself." She observed Eric's delight in giving Einstein the new toys. There was a kindness about him that she could not ignore. He was likeable, confident, and humorous. Lara made sandwiches and they sat at the kitchen table talking. "Can I take you to a movie tonight, Lara?" he softly asked, as if afraid to be rebuffed. "What's playing?" she asked. He looked at his cell phone and located a theater nearby; there was a goofy Christmas movie playing. "Sounds like fun." she said casually. After feeding Einstein and taking him outside for a few minutes, Eric and Lara got into the Infiniti and headed to the theater. Eric opened the door for her, bought her favorite candy, and held her hand in the darkness of the theater. Near the end of the movie he put his arm around her. They laughed at all the silly scenes in the movie. Eric had a hearty natural laugh. When the lights came on in the theater he helped Lara with her jacket. "You are spoiling me." she joked. On the drive back to her apartment, Eric spoke with a serious tone, "I enjoy being with you, Lara." She blushed, "I enjoy your company, too, Eric."

 

~Ben in Iraq~

As Ben woke from night terrors he was flying over Iraq in the early morning hours. Looking at the terrain below, he realized just how quickly U.S. military bases in Iraq had become abandoned cities as America rapidly withdrew nearly of all of the troops. The scene was like an abandoned movie set from an old western. There were very few military personnel but the structures remained. Dust and weeds covered everything giving an apocalyptic look to the strange scene.

When first deployed in 2006 for the Surge, Ben remembered the forward operating bases filled with the noise of thousands of soldiers working together to establish security the war zone. As Ben's plane landed today, there were less than 6,000 troops remaining in the country, from a peak of 170,000 at the height of the war in 2007. And of the 505 military bases set up during the eight-year mission, only four continued to have a handful of personnel
: Kalsu in Iskandariya; Echo in Diwaniya; Camp Adder near Nasiriya; and Camp Bravo in Basra, all reduced to a level of insignificance.

Adder, where Ben was landing today was once the largest base in southern Iraq. It was the last to close
and was now owned by Iraq and its rag-tag government. America gifted its seven-story control tower along with equipment too worn down or too expensive to ship out.
In Basra, Camp Bravo was now barely inhabited. Huts constructed by the British and later used by Americans were empty. Rows of huge expensive diesel generators sat in silence and the only tracks in the mud now belonged to animals. Camp Cooke, twenty miles north of Baghdad in Taji, had few personnel left. Empty housing units were marked and hundreds of tanks and other armored vehicles lay discarded on dust-filled fields. This was the end of the cyclical deployment of one million troops.
About 16,000 people were working at the U.S. embassy in Baghdad, making it America's largest embassy in the world. The plan was to keep long-term access to military bases in Iraq. The four bases planned to keep open were to be the former Saddam International Airport outside Baghdad, Tallil air base near Nasiriyah, in the south, the air base known as H-1 in the western desert, and the Bashur airfield in northern Iraq, H-1, where Special Forces teams were based.

Once Ben was on the ground he moved quickly to meet with Tayeb, his confidential informant in
Nasiriyah, a city soaked with American blood from the 2003 battles
. Tayeb supplied an older up-armored Humvee to transport Ben to a safe house in
the center of his date plantation. Ben drove through the newer parts of the town dominated by standard Iraqi cinder block buildings. But as he approached the date plantation, he was in the old section where structures were built mainly from sun-dried brick and enclosed by a mud walls. The discussion with Tayeb was how t
he Islamic radical war was migrating to American turf. Tayeb briefed Ben on the latest actionable intelligence that had surfaced in the New England area. Ben knew the NSA had intercepted phone calls and other communiqués from one of several terrorist cells thriving inside Iraq. Suspects had traveled between Iraq and Portland Maine multiple times using indirect routes. Tayeb was connected to the underground terror groups through his cousin, Rami, who stayed plugged in by attending meetings and even supplying terrorists with small amounts of money and arms from time to time in order to keep their trust. One of the most disturbing aspects was the usage of females and young children in the terror plots and the sophisticated nature of the bombs and tactics they were planning to utilize. Disguised as an Iraqi, Ben wore his usual beard and sunglasses and Muslim garb. The security guards at the date plantation gave him the once over, but knew a visitor was coming today.

Instantly, the sights and smells took
Ben back momentarily to the hell-hole of Camp Ramadi, full of terrorists imported from Syria and Iran to join the fight in 2006. He vividly remembered the bullet wounds and shrapnel he took as his platoon built one of the first combat outposts and took the fight to the enemy during the Surge. Living on rooftops sniping large groups of insurgents all day or all night, sleeping only for four hours and going back to finish the job -
except they kept coming
. For a brief moment, he was there, working side by side with his brothers in the attempt to civilize the most lawless dangerous city in Iraq, risking life and limb every day, calling in air support, roping off entire city blocks, searching buildings, enforcing curfews, searching more buildings, arranging for training local Iraqi boys. Urban combat, they called it. Everyday was a violent blood bath. Every night was filled with RPG's, grenades and bullets flying. Sleep was optional. Caffeine was required. He did his duty and never questioned his contribution: he was a small piece of a well-oiled machine saving a nation.

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