BROKEN ROAD - One Man's Journey

CHAPTER ONE - Re-Adjusting

 The July sun was relentlessly beating down on him as Benjamin McAdams known as Ben to family and friends threw his shovel to the ground sand groaned inwardly. When he so generously offered his time and labor to his buddy Jamison he had no idea he would wind up a hot, sweaty mess in the midst of landscaping his yard. His friend of over thirty years just laughed and handed him an ice cold beer. "Maybe next time," he said, "you will ask more questions before agreeing to do any favors." Ben shot him a look of fake exasperation and popped the tab drinking or rather gulping two thirds of it down before setting it on the steps near him. "Careful there buddy. Wouldn't want you overdoing it before we finish." Ben smiled and returned the can to his lips draining it and then flopped down in exaggerated motion onto the grass declaring a strike. Jamie laughed and joined him under the shade of the tree they had just planted He had known Ben since they were kids running around the playground at recess and yet at age forty he was still a mystery to him. Hell, to everyone. He had for the last ten years spent months at a time away on business for a company that supposedly dealt in consignment sales of heavy farm machinery. While his farming background supported that theory as the family owned more than a thousand acres upstate and ran at least half that much in cattle and various livestock he wasn't buying it. The hard, chiseled definition of his jaw, the panther like movements ready to spring at a second's notice and the cold penetrating black eyes lent little truth to that. He was no more a businessman, Jamie thought, than I am a traveling minstrel for lack of better comparison.He often thought about broaching the subject and demand to know what was really going on but one did not demand anything of Ben McAdams nor tempt fate where he was concerned. His entire demeanor depicted a man that would not be broken or hounded into submission and such an invasion on his privacy would not be tolerated. He was completely unapproachable in that aspect. Jamie often thought that his eight year stint in the Marine Corps had created his character of keeping things near his vest even to those he was closest to. Whatever Ben was really doing he had no intention of sharing it with anyone until he was ready. If ever.Instead of questioning it they instead did as they always had whenever he was in town. Engaged in reminiscing, found odd projects and attended sporting events. There were times when he seemed like his old self. Jovial, and relaxed but those times were becoming few and farther between. For the last couple years it was as if he was not really there and Jamie learned to accept it for what it was. He had seen, firsthand, what happened to those who dared to tread on ground that allowed no trespassing.

"Jamie, I've asked you twice now where you want to go eat." "I'm starving." He shook himself from trying to decipher Ben quickly apologizing to cover his thought process. "Ugh," he replied. "You are hungry. What a surprise. You are ALWAYS hungry!" Ben merely shrugged. After running the list of decent fast food places nearby it was decided that they would throw a couple steaks on the grill but not before Ben announced he was going home to shower first. "You got your last mile out of this mule for the day." Jamie laughed. "No worries old man. There is plenty of work left over for tomorrow." "Yeah, yeah," Ben muttered as he walked to his late model Chevy truck. "See you in a bit." He got in and turned the key with nothing more on his mind for once than dinner. What a feeling to have to think about only that. He needed to recharge and put the last few months behind him. He emerged from the bathroom feeling like a new man. He had let the hot water cascade over him for several minutes until he felt the tension in his muscles ease up. Hot showers were a luxury that while out in the field for months at a time was not readily available to them. It was not until you were under the protection of your unit that you could indulge in them and proper food. Even then, however, it was a crapshoot as you had to be on the ready to move at any given minute if intelligence came through with enemy forces advancing on your perimeter.Under no circumstances could Michael Johnson as he was known to all or his fellow Ops risk being taken prisoner. Death would be a far better alternative. Everything about them was false. Their names were picked form a random pool and personnel files built around them. There were no photos on record. Social Security numbers did not exist. They were paid via a dummy corporation in the States. They had no access. No contact with the outside world. In the eyes of the government Ben McAdams and the team were figments of the imagination.