A Sense of Duty: A Former Navy SEAL Falls in Love and Begins a New Journey with his Private Consulting Company: Dark Horse Guardians (4 page)

Everyone on the team had played competitive sports and all were in the groove as far as reaching and maintaining the highest level of physical fitness. The group of eight bonded and helped one another through BUD/S and later Seal Qualification Training. Of all his brothers, the one Ben missed the most was Javier, his swim buddy. During Hell Week, they especially supported one another mentally, physically, and psychologically. Their strong bond carried into deployment. Javier held a special place in Ben's heart.

In theater, each SEAL had coping mechanisms to break the boredom of missions. Memorizing passages from literature was Ben's specialty and he was often known to recite poetry, albeit dark stuff. Elvis would sing songs inserting dirty words. The other guys had their own ways to break the boredom in order to stay awake on especially long recon missions. Ben was often on top physically, due to the fact he was a bit more ritualistic about exercise. He felt as Lieutenant he should be in top shape, as he was the role model. Ben was the navigator and specialized in sensitive site exploitation. He also took the lead in technical surveillance and was a highly qualified sniper.

Although each man had a specialty, Ben constantly honed their skills cross-training them in all areas. Ben was the first lieutenant, the unit leader, but you'd never know it in the way he interacted with his brothers. He loved them in a way that could never be explained. This was a family akin only to the one he had at home and, sometimes he thought, much stronger than blood family ties. It was not uncommon for SEALs to be closer to one another than to actual family members. Ben believed the bond with his SEAL brothers was so close because it was a chosen one. They came together and suffered the same brutal and unique training, then took the same oath. Their relationship was forged of love, honor, commitment, loyalty. He knew it would take a special woman to understand his uncommon life.

Ben never talked about Javier Mendoza or how he ended up with his 2004 Dodge Ram pick-up truck. Some subjects were too emotional and defied explanation. The plain fact was: Javier died with a bullet in his head in Ben's arms in Afghanistan during a recon mission that had gone sideways. It
was toward the end of the last tour of duty. It was most common for mistakes to be made at the beginning or the ending of a tour. In the beginning, the unit is just getting their legs under them, learning the lay of the land.  Toward the end, fatigue and a little bit of complacency creeps in.

When Ben had to make the visit to Javier's widow, Marissa, he did not expect events to unfold as they did. Javier's uniforms and personal effects were neatly folded along with his medals and an American flag. Stoic and professional, Ben rang the doorbell on that beautiful sunny June afternoon in Santa Clarita California. The air was light and full of summer's promise, but Ben's sunglasses concealed his blood-shot eyes. He had made these visits to
the families of fallen heroes before. But there was something about his relationship with Javier that made this deeply personal.

Javier Mendoza was a California kid, the son of immigrant farmers, one of twelve children. He lived in extreme poverty all of his life. A six-foot-two mountain of muscle, he sported gang tattoos that he had to remove before joining the Navy. The tattoos were now just blurry faded images on his back and arms, but a serious reminder of the course his life could have taken. Ben's swim buddy, Javier was a fellow BUD/S graduate and had a brilliant mind. In training and in battle the two men could finish one another's sentences. They had the same political leanings, the same sense of humor, enjoyed the same books, movies, video games, even the same taste in food and women. Ben spent more time with Javier than with anyone. If they walked into a bar and both were attracted to the same dark haired beauty, Ben deferred to Javier. Ben often laughed saying that he and Javier might have been brothers in a former life. And, to that Javier would say, "Let's not get to the Nirvana part just yet, buddy…" But that blistering hot day in Afghanistan they had a fire fight on their hands and Javier was going to Nirvana in Ben's arms. The Taliban somehow got to their flank and made a clear shot and it was Javier that paid with his life.

Dragging him behind cover in the unforgiving dessert heat, Ben immediately knew the shot was fatal. Javier's blood poured out of his head and Ben had his hand over the wound trying hopelessly to stop the bleeding. But he did not let Javier know it was hopeless. He stroked his hair and begged him to hang on. Javier was sweating profusely and very dehydrated. Ben gave him a drink as he watched the life drain out of his brother's young healthy body. It was Ben who wrapped the warrior in a blanket and carried him away from the scene. It was Ben who stayed with Javier's body as he was cleaned and examined, even though his commanding officer asked him to leave. Ben watched as the medical team put Javier's body into the icy cooler. Usually the calm, cool, collected soldier, Ben lost it that night. He gathered Javier's blanket and personal items before the officials could do so. He slept that night on Javier's bed and silently wept. He blamed himself for losing Javier. Ben was the commander. He was responsible for their position and the mission planning. It simply should not have happened. They had been running night missions and the enemy, an extremely dangerous and sought-after Taliban leader and drug lord had become familiar to their pattern. It was Ben's idea to do a daytime mission while the Taliban slept. Ben's planning proved to be a fatal mistake.

Knocking on the door waiting to see Marissa's face on that June afternoon, Ben wished he had taken the bullet. Marissa, knowing what was coming, wailed uncontrollably. Thank god, Javier's three young children were away with their grandparents for the day. It was Flag Day, June 14. Ben handed the sacred folded flag to Marissa along with Javier's personal effects. He held Marissa in his arms for what seemed like an hour. Ben remained calm and helped her regain composure. His eyes were drawn to the dented white Dodge Ram pick-up in the driveway. He and Javier had spent many nights in that truck in dive bars in the vicinity of Coronado. He wanted to do whatever he could to help the family financially. He offered to buy Javier's truck and paid Marissa cash, much more than it was worth. It was priceless to him. He also respectfully asked for one of Javier's shirts. Marissa gave Ben the shirt. Ben had all he could do not to break down in front of Marissa. He spoke lovingly to her of Javier and his valiant fight. Ben remained in California to attend Javier's military funeral. He did not shed a tear at the service. He held Marissa and the children in his arms and comforted them, speaking lovingly about Javier, the brave warrior.

Ben remained stoic until he started driving in Javier's pick-up truck from California to Prince Edward Island. Driving for hours on end alone, he sobbed uncontrollably some days. Staying at cheap motels along the way, he ate, slept, and cruised for sometimes ten hours at a time listening to Javier's favorite CD's found in the storage compartment of the truck. They both loved country music. Ben knew he had to look forward and not back. Somehow he felt planning a new life would dishonor Javier. But, over time Ben came to the realization that he would never forget Javier and the special bond between them. Javier's soul had permeated Ben's like an irremovable tattoo.

As he spent time at the Prince Edward Island retreat, he started up Dark Horse Guardians. He threw himself into the project working morning, noon, and night. However, Ben was wrestling with demons that would not leave him. He could not stop looking for IED's. This was a particularly annoying habit from his time in combat. It took transcendental meditation classes, but he was finally looking for IED's less frequently. At one time he thought he might never conquer the obsession. But as everything in his SEAL training taught him, it was mind over matter. What made it so difficult was the fact that he had to go against the training he had been immersed in for the last ten years. The mind of a naval man, especially a SEAL, was purposefully programmed to assess threats twenty-four hours a day. This was not something he could turn off like a switch. He had to force himself to deep breathe and focus his mind away from the frightening thoughts that periodically invaded it.

The other major problem he suffered from was chronic insomnia. However, with many months of transcendental meditation, he was now able to force himself to sleep most of the time. The deep breathing and a unique form of visualization helped, and if he did it for about ten minutes it most often brought immediate slumber upon him. He learned he could also manage his dream state focusing on detailed visualizations just before drifting off. This made his dream state more pleasant, especially when the thought of holding a female body close was involved. The technique didn't work all of the time. There were still night terrors. But he was gradually seeing improvement in his sleep pattern. And, he found Einstein. The moment Ben laid eyes on the tiny English bull terrier puppy, he felt his heart melt. As he sat on the floor in the breeder's mud-room, the small black and white puppy came directly to him, with his tiny tail wagging. Einstein forced Ben into a regular sleeping and waking cycle, gave him unconditional love, and brought him back into the world he once knew.

~ Lara ~

Upon awakening, Lara followed her morning ritual. As any good obsessive-compulsive would, she opened the daily calendar and checklist on her phone. Her careful life was ruled by lists and appointments, running from one task to the next, while living off portable food in her pink leather sack. Protein bars, apples, bananas, yogurt, granola, and the occasional sandwich or salad, was what her diet consisted of on a daily basis. She rarely had time to cook a meal. Everything in Lara's life was neat and orderly, even her relationships. Like the one she had with Eric Henderson. Because he worked in Boston, Lara could take him off the shelf for a weekend date, and then put him back when finished with him. Keeping Eric at arm's length seemed to be the best of both worlds for her. She didn't have to deal with a constant day-to-day relationship with him and she got to enjoy an occasional outing to lunch or dinner, or a ballgame. However, it was Ben, not Eric, who occupied her mind this morning as she attended classes. She could not pay attention to the professor writing on the whiteboard or the class discussion. She absentmindedly stared at her blank notebook page.

After classes she drove to the architectural firm of Stone and Associates to perform the duties of her internship. About a six mile drive from campus, the Fiat wound through Portland traffic getting her there by 1:30. She always wore business attire at school because she would go directly to work after classes. Today she wore a green tunic over a matching green skirt, topped by a burgundy jacket. She added vintage dangling diamond earrings. The antique gold played off her dark hair. Eliot beckoned her into his office as soon as she entered the reception area of the historical stick-built 1902 building. Stone and Associates inhabited a magnificently restored structure with huge floor to ceiling windows filled with wavy glass. She smiled and swiftly moved into Eliot's lavish office and closed the door. "What's up?" She asked tilting her head slightly. Eliot was standing next to his desk. "I just wanted to know if you would be available tonight for a work-related chat." he probed. Lara replied, "I have an appointment late afternoon and that could drag on…." She knew Ben would be waiting for her to walk Einstein and she was secretly hoping she could stretch the walk into something more. Eliot seemed disappointed with her answer. "Maybe tomorrow then…" he dangled the invitation tentatively. Lara said she would think about it and get back to him. She knew what he wanted. He was chomping at the bit to go over a project she had just picked up from him.

For the last two years, Eliot Stone was her mentor, of sorts. Although, Lara knew almost as much about renovation and restoration as Eliot did at this point, she went along with his little game of being her tutor. She trusted Eliot and didn't believe the rumors at the firm that he was motivated by pleasure, instead of business. He had always been a gentleman and she genuinely enjoyed his company. He was a clean-cut man, mature, intelligent and often humorous. She enjoyed the good-natured sparring they sometimes
carried out regarding design elements. They debated about whether a building should retain its Gothic Revival features or lean more toward Edwardian style. Eliot visited salvage yards with her in the quest to discover the perfect elements to finish historical restorations. They called it treasure hunting. As she turned to exit Eliot's office she heard him say, "Lara, there's one other thing. Someone delivered flowers to you today…they're on your desk." Lara's green eyes lit up. She opened the door and stepped into the hallway filled with anticipation. Who sent her flowers? Usually it was Eliot for a project well done. Or, maybe Eric had sent them. The firm was a bustling hive of activity. She slipped into her small office which felt like a fishbowl of glass. Only eight by ten, her office contained an antique desk and an office chair. One other chair for visitors was next to her desk. A long narrow table ran the length of the windowed wall, its purpose was to view design plans with clients. That was it.

Lara's eyes were immediately drawn to the fresh pink peonies in the middle of her desk. Her favorite flower filled the office with the aroma of summer. She snatched the card from the bouquet and tore it open, aware that several eyes in the office were upon her. "Hope this brightens your day, Ben." was handwritten on the card. She instinctively slipped the tiny card into her pocket. She sat down at her desk and inhaled the lovely aroma as she closed her eyes. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Eliot pacing by the plate glass window of her office. She waved to him through the glass while on the phone with a client. She ignored Eliot as she busied herself with the work on her desk.