Hard Man to Kill (Dark Horse Guardian Series Book 4) (24 page)

When they arrived at their usual corner table, Bettencourt and Monique were there. 

“Damn, fancy meeting you here!” Bettencourt stood, slapped Ben and hugged Lara.  The four of them decompressed over dinner and music.  Lara and Monique talked about the small day-to-day crazy things.  For the first time in weeks, Lara let herself go.  She laughed uncontrollably.  The veterans stopped by their table and included her in their humor-filled repertoire.  She felt she belonged there.  A unique dynamic was taking place; the men and women she so admired were accepting her into what was, possibly, the most exclusive club in the world.  She never imagined she could feel this good in a crowd of people, but, she did. 

This was her place.  These were her people.  She never felt so at home.

Central Intelligence Agency, Langley Air Force Base, Virginia

~ Director Ali Najjar ~

Pacing the floor before the upcoming meeting usually helped Najjar focus on what he was going to say.  Walking back and forth in his office often served to help him organize his thoughts.  But, today there was only one thing on his mind. 
Lieutenant Ben Keegan was still alive
.  He wondered how the simple removal of the man had not been accomplished.  What excuses would they have?  He had already heard a few of them.  And, if that was all they had, there would be hell to pay.  He wasn’t fond of the Special Activities Director, Kip Larson, anyhow.  The man was too conservative and protected Keegan way too much. 

A tap on the door from his secretary signaled it was time to go into the conference room for the executive meeting.  He took the laptop and walked swiftly down the hallway to the room already brimming with people.  Senate Intelligence Committee members and Assistant Directors.  Once everyone was assembled, a hush fell over the room. 

“Let’s begin.” Najjar said sternly.  “Khouri is dead.  He was our man.  What the hell happened?  I want answers.  The press is having a field day with this.  Who’s going to start?” 

Kip Larson stood and walked to the front of the room, and stood next to the director.  Najjar figured Larson would speak, but didn’t think he’d be so bold as to move to the front of the room next to him.  The audacity of this asshole.  Let him hang himself in front of everyone present.  It would save him a lot of time and energy. 

“I’ll go over the details.” Larsen started, “But, before I begin, you need to know that Keegan was aware of this plan all along.  Don’t ask me how he knew about it, but he did.  That’s why he is still alive.” 

For the next forty minutes, Najjar listened as Larson described every move made by the terror cell to take out Keegan.  It was, as he expected.  Inexperience.  Incompetence.  Stupidity.  Sloppy work.

Keegan had to be eliminated; he knew too much and was more of a liability than an asset because of it.  Larson was wrapping up his sad little account of what happened, or didn’t happen.  Larson’s job was on the line, as was Najjar’s.  Didn’t this idiot realize that fact?  The president was furious.  Someone’s head would roll for this.  Maybe more than one.  He wondered sometimes how the Agency even functioned.  The bureaucracy had grown to an unwieldy machine, clogged with assistants, special assistants, and inexperienced simpletons.  Kip Larson didn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know.

When Larson sat down, Najjar delivered one message to the room full of so-called experts. 

“I’ll deliver my report to the President.  He will make the final decision as to who will be accountable for this inept sequence of errors.  Meeting is adjourned.” 

Najjar left the room first, but could hear them buzzing as he walked down the hallway to his office.  His recommendation would be to fire Kip Larson.  The Special Activities Director had grown too close to Keegan.  Plus, Najjar had someone else in mind for the position; a person who had ties to his consortium, The Muslim Fellowship Group.

~ Ben ~

“Would you like to go to Prince Edward Island for a week or so?” Ben asked Lara at the roadhouse.  He watched her eyes light up with delight as she smiled.  Her expression said all he needed to know.

“Yes, I’d love to.” Her hazel-green eyes met his and he felt his heart melt. 

“Want company?  Or, just the two of us?” Ben kept his eyes locked with hers.

“Maybe just the two of us for a few days, then company?” she said softly.

The thought of the two of them alone at the remote cottage was thrilling.  Just what they needed.  The last time they were there was tenderly remembered as one of the best weekends of his life.  He recalled every detail about it and hoped, in some way, to relive it all over again with her. 

“Fly or drive?” Ben queried, watching her eyes for a reaction.

“Oh, let’s drive and bring Einstein.  We can stop overnight to see Alvin.” Lara suggested.

“Good idea.  I owe him.” Ben sensed her connection to the old vet, and loved that she recognized his talents.  “I’ll ask Bettencourt and Monique to come up the second week…how would that be, darlin?”

“Perfect.” She smiled.  “A week alone, together, just us…..I miss that, Ben.”

She had no idea how much
he
missed their time alone together.  But any time spent with her was a bonus, and he always made the best of it. 

Mild temperatures and no wind made the motorcycle ride home a sensual delight.  Although he’d danced with her the past few hours, he couldn’t wait to feel her hands around his chest.  She moved one hand beneath his leather jacket and T-shirt until she touched the ancient coin she had given him.  He felt her hand trace it, then his pecs, as he sped through the darkness with the bike roaring beneath them.  Every time Lara touched him, he wanted her.  The heady scent of blooming honeysuckle blew by them.  Soon, strawberries would be in season.  He could think of nothing but feeding them to Lara, then kissing her juicy berry-stained lips.  How he missed the simple things with her when he was busy working at the university or on a mission.  Tonight would be special.  He’d make sure it was.

Arriving at home, he secured the helmets and goggles, and took her into his arms.  “Darlin, I have missed you so much.  It seems lately, all we’ve been doing is working, fighting off the press, trying to put things back in order.” 

“Then, take me inside and we will play.” She said softly.  He smiled as she took his hand and pulled him gently toward the door.  Inside, the solitude of the house was soothing.  Unable to wait another moment, he took her face into his hands and kissed her in the middle of the kitchen.  Her lips tasted like the ginger ale she just finished at the roadhouse.  The smell of her hair was musky and sweet; his tongue traced the seam of her full lips.  She parted them slightly and a bolt of lightning shot through him. 

Einstein whined and entwined his bull dog body around their legs.  Lara giggled and they opened the door to let him out.  Holding hands, they walked down to the water’s edge.  Although they were interrupted, he didn’t want the mood to end.  Illuminated by the moonlight, Lara’s face was a vision of loveliness.  His lips found hers again and now her hands were on him, lightly touching his biceps, then her hand touched the back of his neck.  The feeling of her fingers entwined in his hair gave him a warm rush.  His hands slid down her back and he planted them firmly on her shapely behind, as he pulled her into him.  She probably had no idea how much he appreciated the curvaceous lines of her derriere. 

“Let’s go inside.” He whispered into her ear. 

Soft lamplight illuminated the bedroom, as Lara turned to face him at the foot of the bed. 

“It’s so quiet here….I didn’t realize how much I would miss silence.”  She breathed the words softly.  His arms pulled her to his chest. 

“I can’t speak, I want you so much, darlin.”  He nuzzled her neck, and felt her smile.

Unbuttoning Lara’s shirt, his eyes dropped to her pink buds erect, waiting for his touch.  He often wondered what he did to deserve her.  Standing before him like this, his eyes soaked in every detail of her feminine qualities.  She was a visual feast.  He wanted more than ever to partake in the delights she offered to him.  Kissing her firm breast kindled a desire in him that was indescribable.  Whatever she wanted, he would do it.  She suddenly became his Kryptonite.

He felt Lara’s hands push him onto the bed.  Seated now, at the foot of the bed, his arms encircled her waist and his lips were on her nipples, teasing her.  He felt her breath, hot and irregular on him, which only served to ignite a stronger flame.  His hands traced the feminine curve of her hips.  He wanted her, but he also wanted time to stand still, as he showered her abdomen with light kisses and listened to her response. 

He picked her up and laid her onto the foot of the bed.  Standing above her, he saw her watching him from half-closed eyes.  Her hair was a mess and she gave him a little smile, as if to say,
I want you right now
.  He continued kissing her belly and heard her giggle.  It was a sexy sound, and he knew he was doing something right because she was delighting in it.  Moving lower, he planted long, wet kisses along her inner thighs, and the sounds she made told him he was right where she wanted him. 

In the dim light of the bedroom, he got excited just moving her legs apart and touching that place that was oh so feminine and beautiful to him.  Catching a glimpse as he parted her thighs, he imagined the pink folds of her delicate skin to be that of a lovely flower blossom, opening for him.  For a long time he kissed her there, feeling her body writhe with pleasure, hearing her moan as she reached the peak of desire and begged him to stop for a moment. 

All the while, his desire was ramped to a peak that was nearly uncontrollable.  If she only knew how much he loved to pleasure her this way, she would probably be surprised.  Pleasing her excited him.  As she reached the peak of frenzy once again, he moved above her.  Feeling her arms pulling him atop her, listening to her whisper, “I love you, Ben,” over and over.  The climax together was breathtakingly beautiful.  This was making love, and it was all that he wanted for the rest of his life.

As he scooped her into his arms afterward, he waited for her breathing to become normal.

Nuzzling her neck just below her ear, he whispered, “I love you, darlin.” 

Then, he knew he had to tell her.  There was one more mission with Saleh.  And, one more person he needed to dispose of.  As he explained why he had to do this, she placed her finger on his lips. 

“I know.” She whispered.  “I understand.  Just come back to me.”

~ Ali Najjar ~

Washington D.C.

For six years, he’d held the position he had wanted since a young child, the Director of the Central Intelligence Agency.  His life was one of making the right connections at the right time.  Perfect planning, one might say.  His report for POTUS was ready, and he was sweating bullets before the meeting in the inner sanctum of the oval office.  He read the report one more time, making sure he didn’t leave out any details. 
Kip Larson would have to go
.  He would be the scapegoat for this whole mess with Keegan.  There was plenty of evidence to prove Larson and Keegan were renegades, doing things that were not authorized by the CIA or the president.  At least, that would be how his report would read, and it would be the centerpiece of the case he would make.

The alarm on his phone chimed.  Fifteen minutes.  He had been waiting in the outer chamber for fifteen minutes.  The sweat began to trickle down his back between his shoulder blades.  His shirt collar felt too tight.  Usually, he wasn’t this nervous.  Playing golf frequently with the president, he felt he could calculate his moves fairly well.  He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself.  It wasn’t easy to cut the throat of a director beneath him, but this was the only way out for him.  The press was making a circus out of the incident and a press briefing in the rose garden was planned for the afternoon.  If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that the president was in a foul mood.  Word trickled down to him that things were not running smoothly.  Khouri was never supposed to die in this mission.  He was the undercover operative selected by the Muslim Fellowship, hand-picked to take out Keegan.

The secretary’s assistant approached him.  “He’s ready, sir.”  The walk down the hallway into the oval office seemed to be the longest of his life.  Beads of sweat formed on his upper lip.  Damn, he didn’t have a handkerchief.  The last thought that flitted through his mind was his wife, Linda.  He didn’t even know why her image was there.  A former Miss Universe, she was stunningly beautiful and fifteen years younger than him.  Although she professed her love for him, he knew she was with him for the money and prestige.  But it was a deal he had become accustomed to, even liked. 

Focus on the task at hand…..he inhaled as he strode confidently through the doorway of the oval office.  “Mr. President, good to see you…”

Only one other person was in the room.  Good.  This would be a private meeting.  The under-secretary of state, a minor player in the big game, Thomas Hornby, shook his hand, but didn’t look him in the eye.  Then Hornby sat on the sofa, absorbed in studying something on an electronic device. 

“Ali…” the president started.  “I want this meeting, for the record, to be short and to the point.”  Ali had known the president for many years, considered him a friend.  Never would he have believed the words uttered next.  “You will be relieved of your position as Director of the CIA immediately.  I know this may be a shock to you, but the announcement will be made in two hours in the rose garden.”