Page 16 of Benedict’s Rejuvenation (Dark Patriots #5)

After my heart had settled back in my chest from being terrified when I heard Kensy screaming, and we ate dinner together, I could relax and enjoy my time with her—my week had been hell for a couple of reasons.

One was the fact that I wasn’t able to speak to Kensy every day.

I hated that. There was a good reason to stay dark, but it still sucked.

Last weekend, walking away from her at the airport had been more challenging than ever.

It seemed that changing the nature of our relationship, even though it had barely started, highlighted the distance between us.

I could understand why Beau moved almost clear across the country to be with Keeley.

When you weren’t working, you wanted every minute with your woman as much as possible—flying and driving cut into that time.

Travel was never smooth and timely. The four hours it took to get to Montana could’ve been spent with Kensy.

The second reason the week sucked was the mission I went on.

It consisted of me, Heath, Aryan, and another security specialist, like Aryan, named Giovanni, whom we called Gio.

Back in the office, we had Makayla on standby.

She was a computer expert who seemed to have the ability to gain access to anywhere.

She remotely logged in when we got to the computers and other devices on a mission.

Sometimes, she could complete all her work remotely without needing us to bring the equipment to her.

This mission wasn’t one tied to Vadzim Boyko’s business.

Even six months later, we still found ourselves dismantling minor parts of that vast business.

We’d gone after the biggest culprits first. Occasionally, we got lucky and found a lead to one of the missing people he’d kidnapped and sold.

The outcomes of those operations were sometimes so heartbreaking, I wish we hadn’t gone.

This week, we were on the trail of a weapons dealer.

The person or persons involved were unknown to us, but we were aware of their existence.

And the kinds of weapons being sold were more than your average handguns or rifles.

Much larger items such as grenade launchers, anti-aircraft guns, anti-tank weapons, machine guns, rocket launchers, AK-47s and M16 rifles, other explosives, and even tanks were available.

The selection attainable made us suspect someone, either a former military member or a still-serving member, was behind it.

Those types of weapons were more readily obtained when you had connections or insider knowledge and access.

The average citizen would be shocked and appalled by the number of weapons and equipment that were stolen each year or left behind when we vacated somewhere the military had been occupying.

We’d disrupted and ultimately stopped one shipment, but that was nothing to these people.

We were able to get our hands on two laptops.

Those were taken and given to Makayla to see what she could discover.

The men we’d captured had remained mute about who they worked for.

And since the weapons were being sold on American soil and the nature of how destructive some of the equipment could be, they were treated as a terrorist organization.

That meant the rules that restrained us and actual military personnel were no longer in place.

Our government was increasingly asking us to handle these types of situations, as their personnel had other responsibilities.

We readily agreed. We knew the score. Additionally, Dark Patriots were known for delivering results, and if we had to take unconventional measures to achieve them, we did.

Most of those who worked for the Patriots had served in the military, even though it wasn’t required to work for the Patriots.

The bosses—Sean, Undertaker, Gabriel, and Griffin—had been Navy SEALs together.

Sloan, Undertaker’s wife, had been a Marine.

Heath had served like I did in the Army Special Forces, aka Rangers.

Beau had been in Marine Recon, aka a Raider.

Justin was a Marine and then a DEA agent before joining us.

The list went on. We brought a lot of knowledge and experience to the table.

The reason I went dark for close to three days on Kensy was that we’d taken two men alive, and we took them to a black ops site to conduct their interrogation.

We worked them day and night, increasing the torture both mentally and physically.

Early this morning, they broke and gave us the next clue in the pipeline.

They didn’t know the names of the person or persons who headed it up.

They warned us not to mess with the leader or we’d end up dead.

We hadn’t gotten overly upset over their threat.

For one, threats happened all the time. It was like breathing for us.

Secondly, it would be damn hard for someone to know it had been us.

We took precautions to avoid being recognizable.

We even covered up any of our tattoos and faces when we worked and didn’t use our real names.

If necessary, we referred to each other by our military call signs or an assigned number.

For me, I was called Specter. My Army buddies said I was like a ghost when I entered enemy encampments and snuck up on them.

It was similar to the Griffin’s call sign, Wraith.

Despite being tired and bloody and having to endure hours of debriefing, as soon as I was clean and could get my ass to the airport, I did. I took the first flight I could get on and wished away the time. I had to see Kensy.

I was still feasting my eyes on her. We were talking, and I enjoyed hearing about her week and job. It wasn’t titillating information, but it made me feel closer to her. What distracted me were my desires. God, it had been so hard to stop my greeting at one kiss.

“Ben, tell me about your week. I’ve done all the talking. You have to be bored, and I’m all talked out,” Kensy said.

“I like to listen to you talk, no matter the subject. As for my week, I can’t tell you much. We had a tough mission trying to track down a weapons dealer. Got the next clue to follow. We’re working our way up to the top of the food chain to shut it down—end of story. See. Very unexciting.”

“I hardly think it was unexciting. It was dangerous, and you had to hurt people, possibly, or more like, definitely had to kill. Does that ever get old? How can you do it repeatedly without it consuming you?”

She was frowning. I reached over and brought her closer.

I wanted to be able to feel her as I explained.

In the past, when I’d dated women, the relationships hadn’t lasted due to my crazy schedule, first in the military and then with the Patriots.

I never went into detail about what I did, but some women guessed, and they hadn’t been able to tolerate that they were sleeping with what they called a killer.

After a few breakups, I switched to casual sex only, no relationships.

I prayed that Kensy would be able to accept what I had to do to do my job and help people.

“For me, when I go after people like those selling these weapons, or drugs, or doing something like Vadzim did, I don’t regret what I have to do to get answers and shut them down for good.

You know that I can torture and kill, Kensy.

The way I do it and not get lost is I become something more than Benedict Madris.

I become Specter. It’s Specter who does the dirty work.

Yes, I know that’s unhealthy, and I’m disassociating myself, but it works.

Iolani would have a field day with me, wouldn’t she? ” I chuckled.

“She might, but then again, I’ve found her accepting of things you wouldn’t expect. Who is Specter?” Kensy’s curiosity was evident in her voice.

“When I was in the Army, my fellow Rangers started to call me Specter. It came from their observations that when we entered an enemy encampment or infiltrated places, I seemed to slip in unseen. From there, Specter grew a reputation for getting answers. The name stuck and evolved. When I have to do those things, Kensy, I shut my emotions down and see it as a job. That I’m protecting innocent people, and if I don’t do it, more will die or suffer.

That’s what I work to prevent and stop.”

“You don’t feel anything when you do it?”

“No, except for once. It was when we were handling Nikita and Vadzim. I couldn’t become Specter.

I felt rage and your pain, and so much more.

It was like I’d connected with you instantly, and I couldn’t shut off my personal feelings.

Hell, if possible, I might’ve felt your emotions.

You don’t know how hard it was to sit back and let you do the work on Vadzim.

Don’t get me wrong, I completely understood why you did it, and I applaud you.

You showed tremendous strength, Kensy. That, too, made me fall even more for you. ”

As my confession ended, Kensy wiggled and shifted to straddle my lap. I’d been dying to see if she might be interested in more than talking. Her shift was a good sign that she was. I wasn’t sure how long we had until her sister and Beau returned.

“What could you have possibly seen in me that night, Ben? I was a mess. I still feel like I am, and I’m still trying to figure out what you see when you look at me.”