Rough Men: Battle Scars

By David E. Watwood

Jacob Steele is back in the long awaited second book of the 'Rough Men' series: 'Battle Scars'. Drawn back into his former life, Jake is shipped out to Dubai to stop a channel of terrorist funding while leaving Lily Winters back in Florida to deal with the repercussions of his last job.

Across the globe it seems infiltration is difficult when the terrorists know your face; however, Jake is too stubborn to worry about a blown cover, but what does that mean for his allies?
Meanwhile in Florida, Lily is hunted by drug dealers. Will Jimmy Lee get to her in time?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mr Blues Publishing
• Release date: Aug 8, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311776075

David E. Watwood

David E Watwood is a veteran of the U.S. Marine Corps and the U.S. Army and served as a defense contractor in the Middle East for several years. He was born in Alabama and raised in central Florida where he now resides as owner and operator of his civil process and investigative agency going on 14 years. David is also an avid shooter and teaches defensive shooting and personal firearms training. He constantly has a book in his hands and that love for reading has always inspired him to write.

Book preview

ROUGH MEN:

BATTLE SCARS.

By

David E. Watwood

"Carry the battle to them. Don’t let them bring it to you."

-Harry S. Truman

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2014 David E. Watwood

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Chapter 1

Jacob Steele is not a good man.

He’ll never be called a saint unless the world finds a need for the patron saint of assholes, then he’ll be first in line for the title. In his profession one has to be an asshole if one wants to survive. Jake Steele’s business is killing people that need killing, and like someone once said, Business is booming.

He spent the better part of his adult life in the U.S. military, starting with the Marine Corps and then the Army Special Forces. He would probably still be on active duty if he hadn’t been caught banging a superior officer’s wife. He was given the choice of retiring with honor or facing charges that would have surely landed him in prison, so retirement was an easy choice.

After working as a security operative in the Middle East, Jake found himself back home in Lakeland, Florida as a private investigator and jobber for clients requiring results at any cost and by any means; he didn’t disappoint.

Drawn back into his former life, Jake started answering to his former commander and mentor, General Beau Grant, U.S. Army Special Forces (ret.). General Grant’s company, Armed Response Inc. (ARI) was used to handle sensitive situations for various agencies of the U.S. government; Jake performed a lot of the dirty work as, simply put, a hired killer.

Already on the plane for eight hours, he leaned forward, stretched his back and glanced over at the businessman laid out on the first class seat next to him before back out of the window at the Atlantic Ocean passing far below; six more hours to Doha then to Dubai. His thoughts went back a few days ago when a knock on his door set this trip in motion.

Jake had opened the front door to find his best friend and General Grant’s right hand man Sergeant Major Scott A. McCoy US Army (ret.) standing there with a bottle of Scotch in one hand and a briefcase in the other.

Well, jackass you gonna open the door or just stand there watchin me sweat my ass off? McCoy asked Jake with a big grin on his face.

Sorry kid but I didn’t order any food just leave the booze and scram and there’s no tip for you, Jake replied as he opened the door.

Cheap-skate, Scott walked in past Jake and over to the chair in the living room to sit down; he put the bottle on the coffee table then laid the case down beside it, opened it and threw a cigar box on the table. Cubans.

Illegal aren’t they? Jake remarked.

Then give’em the fuck back!

He reached behind his back and pulled out a black nine millimeter pistol then laid it down, too. Damned thing’s been digging in my back the whole trip.

Jake chuckled and said, Try losing some weight, you’re I fat. Must be all that soft office livin catchin up.

Nah, just good lovin and good home cookin. You’d know something about that if you could keep a woman long enough for her to cook for you. Scott said, Get a glass for you and one a them piss water beers you drink for me, I ain’t drinkin this shit. I got that for you, I drink beer like a real man.

Jake walked to the kitchen, got a glass and filled it with ice then grabbed a beer from the fridge and went back into the room. Scott twisted the cap off the scotch and handed the bottle to Jake before opening the beer for himself. Jake poured the glass half full and took a sip as Scott picked up one of the cigars, unwrapped it, bit the end off and spit it away. Striking a lighter, he held the flame to the end of the cigar.

So, why didn’t you let me know you were comin in? What’s up? Jake asked.

I flew in to MacDill a little while ago, rented a car and drove on over. What? I need an invitation now or something!? Scott replied blowing out a plume of smoke.

Jake smiled and said, You never know, I might’ve been with a woman, or something.

Yeah well….as far as I know homo’s don’t do women and tough shit if you were, you are always to be at my beck and call; when the boss calls, you answer, Scott retorted.

They sat and drank for a bit, talked about old times then Jake finally asked, Alright, so what’s up? You didn’t come down here to drink, smoke cigars and bullshit with me, so lay it out.

Scott reached in the case, This’ll be a tough one stud, no shit.

He handed Jake a packet of papers, and Jake spread them out on the table top. There were photographs, maps and fact sheets all pertaining to one man.

He talked as Jake read, The dude is Mr. George Bertrand Miller or as he is known in certain circles, Abdul-Aziz, ‘servant of the powerful one’ or some such shit. Believe it or not he’s an American by birth, Saudi mother, and American father, figure that one out. Raised in New York, graduated from Princeton with a degree in finance, a banker by trade, but actually he’s a middle man for big companies looking for financing for their projects. He travels overseas a lot, Beirut, Hong Kong, Belgium, Riyadh, and Dubai. He has contacts all over the world; the fucker knows how to get money and lots of it.

Jake said, So far you haven’t said anything about what’s he doin wrong.

Scott replied, "Gettin to that Tinkerbell. Did I fail to mention some of the companies he helps finance are let’s see, Al Qaeda, Taliban, a couple of groups in Iran, the SSP in Pakistan, Al Shabab in Somalia and a shit load of others. Have no doubt, he’s the main money man for some truly mean motherfuckers. The sources he gets the money from believe that they’re financing American and British Corporations; he juggles the loans and pays them back tryin to make them look legitimate, kinda like a big Ponzi scheme. We haven’t found anything solid, but we believe he’s robbing his brothers blind by skimmin off the top for his own benefit, either way if he goes away, the money train grinds to a halt at least for a little while anyway, as you know there’s always some other motherfucker waiting in line to take his place.

He’ll be in Dubai in two weeks and we believe he‘ll be meeting with contacts from more than one of the groups to disburse the funds. It won’t be as easy as the Miami thing was, he’ll be covered with security you can bet they’ll be thick as fucking fleas."

Jake read a little more then said, What’s our contact there for weapons and supplies?

You remember Bandar from Riyadh, the little interpreter we used, he’s a good guy; he’ll be your main man.

Bandar Al-Harbi, yeah he’ll do, he has connections in Dubai?

You remember his uncle, the general in the Saudi National Guard; he hates Bin Laden and his whole bunch. He’s like the ambassador or something from Saudi. He’s there now so he‘ll hook us up, but he’s also Saudi so you know he won’t take any responsibility if it goes to shit, so cover your ass and be careful who you let get behind you.

Wonderful, Jake said sarcastically. I don’t see any cover information in here.

No cover, you’re goin to be your charmin self, way too many people over there who might know you. It would be too dangerous to lie and then come face to face with someone who recognizes you, after all you’re famous over there and lots of people would like to see you dead, and you know that would just break my heart. Besides it’ll be tough to get close to Abdul- Aziz anyway, you’ll have to develop your own plan as you go. I’ll give you details where he’s stayin and goin and all that. We know that he likes the whores, he likes to drink. Son a bitch, he reminds me of you. His lifestyle rubs some of the fanatics wrong, but they tolerate it because he delivers the dough. I guess they figure Allah don’t mind that much long as he’s getting paid too. You’re goin over on a real job. At least that’s what it’ll look like. The company has a client flying there on business and you’ll be his security escort, those details to follow. Just good timin, Scott explained.

Scott pulled a cell phone from the case and threw it to Jake. Welcome to the twenty-first century, stud. That’s a secure satellite phone, already programmed with your number so throw out that antique piece a crap you got now. It’s loaded with all the bells and whistles, camera, GPS and whole lotta other shit; works like a normal phone, except when you get a secure call it’ll ring different, answer it by pushin that purple button in the middle there, then you’re secure and it can’t be traced or monitored. Otherwise answer it normally and talk to all the rabble you hang with, it works all over the world.

How soon do I go? Jake asked.

You got maybe two weeks, probably less to get your shit in order. Don’t take nothin with you but clothes and shavin shit, all will be provided for you my son, Scott said making the sign of the cross with his cigar.

So, what passes for a good steak in this shit hole you live in, Billy Bob’s road kill café or some shit like that? Scott asked standing up.

Christ, you are an annoying fuck, Jake replied as he stood.

Scott said, Nope, just getting used to the good life. I no longer have to eat common food like you peasants, and I’ll drive because you drive like a woman. Get your shit and let’s go I’m starving.

Jake picked up the papers and put them back in the case. He went into the bedroom, opened the closet door and unlocked the electronic safe on the floor then placed the case inside before closing the door. He pulled open the nightstand drawer and retrieved his Colt Forty-Five; pulling the slide to rear far enough to see the round in the chamber, he let it back forward before slipping the pistol behind his back underneath his shirt.

Scott was already in the car and started blasting the horn over and over until Jake was outside; once he got in the passenger seat they backed out and drove away down the street.

They pulled into a chain steakhouse on the south side of town, it never really reminds anyone of Australia but the food is usually pretty good.

Once in a booth, they ordered drinks and then their meals, talking and laughing about old times. You remember that time in Thailand when Juan picked up that chick, turned out to be a dude, he called us cryin like a baby, made us swear not to tell! Scott said laughing.

We told everybody, he never lived that shit down. He went to Korea after that, came back, what, two years later and we were still bustin his balls about it! Jake finished the story.

It felt good, Jake rarely laughed at anything anymore and Scott was as close to a brother as he had ever known. They had been knee deep in shit together and came up smelling rosy more times than they could count.

Hello Jacob, the voice said.

Scott and Jake looked up at the same time; Jake almost choked as he realized he was looking at Rebecca Freeman.

Hey, I mean, hello, Mrs. Freeman. He felt ridiculous as soon as the words came out of his mouth.

I haven’t seen you in some time, how are you? She asked.

He replied, still somewhat surprised, I’m good thanks and you? Oh, Mrs. Freeman this is Scott McCoy. He introduced them.

It’s Rebecca, Nice to meet you, Scott, is it?

"Yeah, nice to meet you too Rebecca, sit down and join us. I don’t get to meet many of Jacob’s friends," he said as he slid over; Jake gave him a stern look.

Thank you, but I can’t, I’m meeting my husband in a moment but it is nice to meet you, and nice to see you again Jacob. Please call me, she said while looking him straight in the eyes.

Somewhat recovered Jake said, I’d like too, soon.

I look forward to it. She turned and walked away.

Scott watched her go, shaking his head in disbelief. "Holy shit! Did you see the ass on that woman? You gotta be kiddin me. Ain’t no way you’re tappin that, way too classy for a grunt like you. And if you are, fuck you, god damn! And by the way who the hell is Jacob?"

Jake said, Let it go, she’s a client, that’s all. Jakes voice was a little shaky, he didn’t expect her to appear and he couldn’t help being a little rattled.

"Holy shit!" Scott said again.

They finished eating, paid and left shortly thereafter.

At Jake’s house, Scott told him that he’d be back in touch in a day or two then drove off. Jake went inside to get a beer from the fridge but changed his mind and poured Scotch in a glass instead. Taking a deep sip, he picked up one of the cigars and unwrapped it.

He lit the cigar as he clicked on the TV, the local news was on but he wasn’t paying any attention to it. He was thinking about a night not so long ago in a hotel room with Rebecca Freeman. Taking a drag on the Cuban he put his head back and blew smoke toward the ceiling while thinking that she was still absolutely the most beautiful woman he had ever met.

He fell asleep on the couch and woke up early to his new phone buzzing on the coffee table. Jake, he said as he pushed the button.

Well, were you planning to work sometime this week or what? The voice belonged to Lily Winters, Jake’s business partner.

Yeah Lily I’m up, I’ll be on the road in an hour. Something going on I need to know about? Jake replied.

Lily scolded him, Yeah, the hearing is coming up on the Foust case, you still have subpoenas that haven’t been served yet and the attorney’s office is yelling, so at least get those done today please. We still have a business to run you know.

Jake had recovered from the wounds he had received during the incident at the mine and Lily seemed to be coping well enough with the loss of her husband. The business was all that kept her going and she was right, it seemed Jake had lost some interest since getting back with ARI.

Alright Lily I’m on it, I promise. Jake said, I’ll see you shortly, and hung up.

He showered, got dressed, headed out the door and drove his Jeep out of his neighborhood while listening to Johnny Cash sing about the hardships from being named Sue.

He spent the rest of the morning serving the subpoenas that Lily was upset about, finishing them all without incident. He picked up the phone to call her but it buzzed in his hand before he could dial. After pushing the button, he answered, Steele.

Hey, Jake what’s up? said Julie Smith, legal assistant to one Alan S. Sweeny Esq.

You know how it is, just tryin to make a livin sweetheart. What-cha need? Jake asked.

Alan wants to see you if you have time, she said

Sure, when? Jake asked.

As soon as you can get here darlin.

Be there in twenty minutes. You got lunch plans? Jake asked.

Depends on what you have in mind, to eat that is. She said coyly.

He laughed, I swear to god you have a one track mind, don’t you?

Surprisingly only when it comes to you, makes ya wonder doesn’t it? See you in twenty, Julie said.

Jake walked into the Law Office of Alan S. Sweeny Esq. Julie Smith came out to the reception area wearing a black mid-thigh length skirt and a tight long sleeve blouse; she smiled at Jake and said, Alan is in his office and he said bring you right in. When you’re done with them, lunch is on you, or maybe it is you. She whispered the last part.

Jake smiled, Like I said one track mind.

She led him into Alan’s office then turned and walked out.

Alan S. Sweeny was behind his desk talking to a man of about fifty or so wearing an expensive suit and shoes. Alan introduced them, Jake Steele, meet Roy Halverson. Jake shook his hand and Alan said, Have a seat Jake.

Jake sat down and Alan started talking, Jake, Roy’s from Atlanta, he’s got a problem and I think you’re the man to help him.

How so? Jake asked.

Alan continued as he handed Jake a photo. This is Roy’s son, Gregg.

The photo showed two well-built young men in Georgia Tech football uniforms. He’s the one on the right. The boy left school to go home with a friend for a weekend almost six months ago and hasn’t been heard from since.

What makes you think he’s here? Jake asked.

Alan handed Jake another photo, this one was a Polk County sheriff’s mug shot, only this one showed a gaunt and hollow eyed skeleton, the face ravaged with sores barely resembling the same person. Roy got this in the mail last week, sent from here with no return address. The release date on the record was a week and a half ago. Police in Atlanta investigated a little, they found out the address for the kid he left with, he’s still here but said he didn’t know where Gregg was; he said as far as he knows he went back to school. Roy’s sure that other kid sent this to him.

Jake looked at the two photos, You have his address? I’ll see what I can get from him.

Roy Halverson said, His name is Phillip Lowe, that’s him with Gregg in the picture, they played football and roomed together at Georgia Tech. I’ve only met him once before. I tried talking with him myself, he looks like shit, like Gregg in the mug shot and real scared, he was shaking the whole time. His mother was scared too I could tell. Jake, they know something about my son. Alan told me you’ll get answers. I just need to know where he is, dead or alive. Here’s a check for five-thousand dollars to get you started, do whatever it takes, the cost is unimportant, you understand?

He took the check and put it in his pocket, The picture looks like he got into drugs. Probably meth and honestly, that can’t be a good thing, but I’ll see what I can find out.

Jake, you need anything from me, you call, hear? Alan Sweeny said.

I’ll keep you posted as things develop; I need your contact information Mr. Halverson, are you staying in town a while? Jake asked.

No, I’m leaving today. I don’t think there is anything else I can do here that I haven’t already done. I’m going back to Atlanta, Halverson replied.

Alan said, I’ll have Julie get Roy’s info for you. Like I said before Jake, if you need anything from me just gimmee a ring.

Alright, I’ll get going. Mr. Halverson, I’ll be in touch. Jake said shaking his hand.

Jake went out and found Julie waiting for him in the lobby, Ready for lunch? she asked.

Let’s go, Jake replied. They went out, got in the Jeep and drove off.

They hadn’t been on the road for two minutes when Julie had his pants undone and pulled down enough to get him free then proceeded to give him a fairly amazing blow job.

Jake said, Julie, I can’t drive like this you’re gonna make us crash.

She paused and said, Then find a place to park cause I’m not stopping, then got back to work. Jake found one of the parking garages located down town and zipped in; he drove as fast as possible to the top floor and whipped into a spot before killing the engine. Julie came up for air and put the seat back as far as it would go, Jake did the same with the driver’s seat. She immediately climbed on top and impaled herself on him then bounced as fast as she could; it didn’t take them long before she fell on his chest breathing hard.

Jake said, You weren’t wearing any panties darlin.

I took them off in the bathroom before you came out. I wanted to be prepared, she replied.

Aren’t you just the little Girl Scout? Well you’ve ruined me for the rest of the day, you know? Jake remarked.

Oh no, you still owe me lunch, she quipped.

They rearranged themselves and drove to a local deli where they ordered before driving to the lakeside, parking and eating their sandwiches. Afterward Jake drove her back to the office where she kissed him, jumped out then ran inside.

Jake called Lily and told her what was going on, Well, let me know if you need help or anything. Did you finish the Foust subpoenas? she asked.

Yeah I’ll bring them by later; I want to get going on this thing, he said.

Ok Jake, be careful please, she said and they hung up.

He sat and read