Sabotage: Beginnings Read Online Free PDF Page B

They aren’t me, Mother. I’m special. He’s here and he’s close—I sense his presence. His spirit is pure but wounded. I won’t kill him because of that, but yours, Mother—your spirit is evil and you won’t be so lucky.”
    He heard her huff across the line, “We’ll see about that, you little shit. Justice is just as warped as you are. You’d do well to get him before he gets you. The other twenty-four were better than you. You know why?” she asked.
    He took the bait. “Why?”
    “They weren’t sissified momma’s boys like you are.”
    Ben did his best to balance the night scope across his bent thighs as he mashed the hard plastic phone receiver against his face. His tears never really stopped welling in his eyes, but it was his mommy after all.
    “Goodbye, Mother,” Ben cleared his throat and tried to shield the mouthpiece against the whirling wind gusts. “I regret to inform you that our next encounter will not be by happenstance but by design. It will be then that I will have you.”
    “Benny?”
    “Yes, Mommy?”
    “Fuck off.”

Chapter 5

    W rath warmed Ben through the night’s bitter cold. His thoughts bent between the mother who raised him and the whore who sold out her son for a top position at the CIA. He had a mission, and with the earliest of sun’s rising came a gorgeous cloud kissed sky. He was in the cradle of civilization, yet other than the majesty of sunrise and the peaceful surrender of night to day, these people were insufferable when it came to helping him.
    He snaked his leathered hand into his light cotton kameez to retrieve two strips of beef jerky which would sustain him until he foraged for additional sustenance. His high school’s JROTC training and early military enlistment had prepared him to live off the land. The CIA taught him to live off other people.
    Ben wasn’t really sure what they’d done to him, but after a steady diet of experimental psychotropic drugs, violence and Americana, he could only focus on what he was programmed to do—kill.
    He’d slept exactly forty-seven minutes. A bit groggy, he’d learned to operate on less rest. He could sleep once he died, he was told by his trainers. This day held lots to do.
    The Popi tribe stirred early also. They’d held late night meetings with what was left of their council. Ben chortled at the thought of the other high and mighty tribal wise men still string wired against the trees. The edges of a razor thin grin curled upward as he imagined the horror passersby must have felt to see what remained of the bodies.
    I bet Justice is pissed.
    A confrontation grabbed his attention. Three Afghanis looked to argue—he assumed it was over him. Ben shoved the hearing enhancement device further into his ear canal. Not much luck eavesdropping from this distance, and considering that the wind gusts muffled and distorted an already difficult language to understand.
    His scope spotted Sunni. His ass looked flat worn out. He grabbed at another man, possibly older, but difficult to tell. The third man was definitely the oldest and had probably skipped on their round table at Khojak Pass because he looked too feeble to travel.
    Sunni and the ancient one stormed off. The third hung around—his head constantly swiveling atop hunched shoulders. Ben’s heart picked up a beat. He yipped because he knew what that meant. He had an unnatural ability to read human behavior. His ability to observe even the most minute micro-expressions and forecast what others were about to do had saved his life more than once. It also helped him end many others before any damage could be done.
    This man was about to rat out Osama bin Laden. Ben straightened his back and began gathering his few precious supplies. He anticipated the third Popi tribesman would head into the rugged hill region. The ancient one couldn’t physically follow him, and Sunni still looked scared shitless. The third man would be free to seek out.
    Ben’s stomach growled—he