Free Hard Man to Kill (Dark Horse Guardian Series Book 4) by Ava Armstrong Page A

choking for a few minutes, he nodded.  Ben removed the rag.  “Tell me!” he yelled for the last time in Arabic.
    Descriptions and coordinates tumbled out of Al Safi’s mouth in a jumble.  Elvis wrote on his hand as Al Safi spoke.  A green house with a balcony, names of streets, and an apartment above a bakery.  But it could have been gibberish uttered to stay alive. 
    Ben breathed into the com, “Get someone down here with water, now!  Hold him until we check out the info he gave us.”  Two of Moshe’s men scrambled down into the tomb-like room and Ben gave them orders.  “Keep him alive.  We'll be back within two hours, hopefully.” 
    Elvis wanted to run, but Ben grabbed his arm. “We can’t attract attention. “The two strolled along the street using the coordinates written on Elvis’ hand.  The green house with the balcony was in view, just as described, about a mile north.  Two men in robes were lounging on the balcony. 
    Ben looked at Elvis. “You’re better at climbing than I am.  I’ll distract them for a moment and you can pull one of them inside.  But, first we have to make sure no one else is inside the house.  And, we have to make sure they’re not armed to the teeth.” 
    Ben spoke into the com, “Get a mosquito drone here pronto.”  He gave the coordinates and calmly walked by the house. He pretended to be lost and confused, peering at the addresses. Within ten minutes a young boy on a bicycle stopped next to them on the sidewalk.  “Mosquito inside.  Check your phone.”  The boy wheeled away. 
    Pretending to make a phone call, Ben viewed the interior of the house with the mosquito drone.  No one was there at the moment.  In the sweltering afternoon, the humidity had become unbearable.  He glanced at Elvis, “Yup – it’s time.”  Ben walked back toward the green house and glanced at the two men on the balcony.  Speaking Spanish, he asked them for directions.  While the conversation ensued, Elvis had made it up to the balcony.
    The first guard was so intent on Ben, he didn't see Elvis come up from the side of the balcony. Elvis simply grabbed the guard by the back of the head and slammed it straight down into the balcony's rail.  He vaulted over the guard, driving into the second one.  He wrapped his arm around the other's neck in a chokehold and dragged him inside.  Ben pushed through the sun-cracked wooden door in the back, and ran to the balcony.  Stooping, he dragged the other man inside, hoping no one was observing. 
    Luckily, it was siesta and all local traffic, both pedestrian and otherwise, had come to a complete stop.  Ben and Elvis quickly bound the two men.  Ben spoke into his com, “Need two Jeeps at 29 Palm, pronto.”  Within minutes one Jeep backed up to the side door of the house and the two bound men were tossed in.  Ben had injected both of them and they were dead weight for the moment. 
    “Good job,” he said to the driver.  “Now get the hell out of here.  We will meet you back at the tomb.”  The driver of the second Jeep opened the door and Ben and Elvis scrambled in as it moved away at a rapid rate of speed.
    After reviewing photographs back at the interrogation chamber, Ben realized he now had a trifecta.  Al Safir, Abdullah Mizoul and Mohammed Farouk.  He couldn’t believe the run of luck.  Three prisoners in the interrogation room was crowded, but manageable.  Elvis kept them bound in uncomfortable positions.  Both men spat at him when he got close enough to speak.  They called him a pig and an infidel in Arabic.  However, he remained calm.  He’d been through this before and knew it wouldn’t last long. 
    Tom and Gus came down to relieve them.  For a brief time, Ben and Elvis raced upstairs, washed up, and ate something.  Ben spoke into his com, “It’s going to be a long night, guys.”
    An hour later, they were back in the tomb with Mizoul and Farouk.  As expected, some of their swagger was gone