Corps Justice Boxed Set: Books 1-3: Back to War, Council of Patriots, Prime Asset - Military Thrillers

by C. G. Cooper

  Corps Justice

  1. We will protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.

  2. We will protect the weak and punish the wicked.

  3. When the laws of this nation hinder the completion of these duties, our moral compass will guide us to see the mission through.

  Cal wondered quietly whether this was what his father had in mind. Taking out a ruthless criminal was one thing; doing the dirty work for a bunch of politicians was another story.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Cal. Never trust a politician, right?” Waller asked innocently.

  The bluntness surprised Cal. “I…I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but…yes.”

  Waller laughed. “We’re gonna get along just fine. Sounds like a chip off the old block, Trav.”

  “He is,” smirked Travis.

  “Did your dad ever tell you the story about meeting me?” President Waller asked.

  Cal shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  “Let me give you the abridged version. I think I mentioned earlier that we’d met during my presidency. Some of my top military aides had recommended calling in your dad for more intel on the Middle East. Saddam was being a real pain in the ass and SSI had assets all over Iraq. So your dad shows up and answers all of our questions. Then one of my more enthusiastic junior aides starts grilling your dad on the legality of how the information was obtained. I didn’t really approve, but I let the conversation run its course. I wanted to see how your dad would handle it.”

  Travis chuckled, “You’ll love this, Cal.”

  “He’s right. Long story short, your dad proceeds to calmly dissect this young aide’s political career, along with a few non-discreet details about his dirty private life. Your dad made it pretty plain that he hated politicians and completely embarrassed his accuser. I think the only reason he showed up that day was because he thought it was his patriotic duty.”

  “That sounds like dad,” answered Cal with a chuckle of his own.

  Waller continued, “I walked away from that incident with two thoughts: one, that your dad was a Marine through and through; and two, that I never wanted to be on his bad side.”

  Travis interrupted, “I’ve known these gentlemen for a while now, Cal. I wanted you to meet them today so you could see with your own eyes. They are not typical politicos. They’re American patriots just like us.”

  Waller suddenly stood and pointed at the American flag in the corner. “Damn right, and we’re gonna do anything we can to keep this country safe.”

  +++

  There was a part of Cal that still couldn’t come to grips with his new life. If he could tell anyone what he did for a living, they’d never believe it.

  Cal finished up his shower and dried off. It was time to get back to work.

  Chapter 3

  Washington, D.C.

  10:40am, September 13th

  Congressman Brandon Zimmer was in no mood to talk. After a lot of soul-searching, he’d decided to tell his father about the incident in Las Vegas. He waited for the senior Senator to make the walk from his senate chambers. He’d instructed his small staff to take an extended lunch break. Father and son would have the office alone. Brandon tapped his foot nervously as he waited.

  Senator Zimmer strolled into Brandon’s office precisely ten minutes after their phone conversation. The elder statesman was the very picture of a political figure. Completely gray haired, his frame was still fit from vigorous daily exercise. He’d competed in triathlons in his younger days, but now whetted his competitive appetite on the tennis courts, typically throttling his peers. Senator Zimmer was a card-carrying Democrat, but was well respected on both sides of the aisle. He’d mellowed with age but his temper was still legendary.

  Senator Zimmer cut to the chase. “So what is it this time, Brandon?”

  Brandon tried to look his father in the face as he answered, “I’ve got a problem.”

  The Senator rolled his eyes. “What else is new?”

  The young Congressman pounded his fist on the side table. “Dad, this time it’s really serious.”

  Brandon knew better than to lie to his father, so he quickly ran through the details of Beth’s murder in Las Vegas. Senator Zimmer stayed quiet during the most of the recitation. He only interrupted his son twice to clarify points.

  As Brandon wrapped up his tale, Sen. Zimmer walked to the Congressman’s large desk and sat down. He placed his hands on the desk and glared at his only son.

  “Well Brandon, I’d love to know how you’re going to get your tail out of this one.”

  Chapter 4

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  11:30am, September 13th

  The small group of men sat quietly in the windowless gloom of the hotel conference room. Smoke from carefully tended cigarettes curled towards the ceiling and hovered. They all knew each other. Theirs was a relationship kindled over years of collaboration. No man was younger than fifty-five.

  They’d gathered as friends but considered each other family. In fact, some had betrothed their children to the offspring of fellow members.

  Every head around the table digested the latest reports from their appointed leader. The time for decisive action was coming. The Empire of Japan would rise again.

  Chapter 5

  Turks and Caicos, Providenciales Island

  12:02pm, September 13th

  Cal adjusted the remote camera. After only an hour on surveillance, he was bored. The only way he could keep focused was to continuously pan and zoom the view. Not that he could complain though. He’d volunteered for the gig against Travis’s objections.

  As head of the newly dubbed Strategies and Contingencies Division (SCD) of SSI, Cal should have been at one of SSI’s two headquarters, one south of Nashville and one outside of Charlottesville, Virginia. Travis, Cal’s cousin and CEO of SSI, wanted Cal to coordinate his division’s future plans.

  Despite the conveniently unhelpful name given to SSI’s newest branch, it was in fact the covert wing of the Stokes Security International. Unknown to the public and government agencies, at times SSI worked outside the law. Through its contacts, like the Council of Patriots, SSI gathered actionable intelligence that would otherwise go unused by law enforcement and even the most covert of government agencies. The reasons were twofold: first, the intelligence itself could never be used in a court of law because of the methods by which it was obtained and second, the secret division was only tasked with threats to the American homeland.

  SSI’s special operations brethren could take care of the international threats. Politicians were loath to deploy troops on American soil. That left agencies like the FBI, Homeland Security and local law enforcement to the task. Those agencies are still bound by law to employ due process and not infringe on individual liberties. The Patriot Act helped, but not in all cases.

  It was Cal’s father who had decided to help the cause. Instead of standing by, watching helplessly as America was devoured from both the outside and within, Cal Sr. decided to act. Employing his mantra of Corps Justice, he took his covert battle to the enemy.

  Targets over the previous years included drug lords, terrorists, mass murderers, and more. The common thread? Each target knew enough about American law to skirt law enforcement. Technology had allowed the enemies of the United States to further entrench themselves into North America.

  Cal Sr. realized the immense danger this would create for his corporation. He’d therefore carefully picked those involved for their sense of integrity, patriotism, and ability to choose right from wrong. It didn’t hurt that one and all were former warriors from their respective branches of the Armed Forces.

  Years later, it was Cal, Jr. who’d been tapped to exact this covert justice. It was a thankless job, but each man involved was used to serving his country and barely getting a pat on the back. To a man, the most important aspect was protecting America from growing internal threats. There was no sleep lost for their slain enemies. There was only the
dream of a brighter future and a more secure America.

  He was currently in Turks and Caicos with a small SSI surveillance team. Nothing fancy, just a week of staring at a camera and following a high profile target around the small Caribbean island. Since taking over the new division Cal had made it a point to get a feel for all operational aspects at SSI. He’d spent time with the insertion teams, the security teams, an unfortunate weekend with the VIP protection teams (Cal couldn’t stand kissing up to snobby elite), the Research and Development Division headed up by his good friend Neil Patel, and finally the surveillance teams. Cal had also been through a majority of the training programs provided by his company, such as the close quarters combat training and the hand-to-hand training led by MSgt Willy Trent. He still had a green bruise from their last training session on the mats.

  It had taken him away from the strategic planning Travis had wanted, but in the long run it gave Cal a better understanding of SSI’s capabilities. As a Marine, he had to be familiar with all the parts of an operational unit. It also allowed him to be on the ground with the troops. It was one of the things he still missed about being in the Marine Corps.

  He’d always known that SSI made a lot of money, but he never knew exactly where it came from. In its infancy, the bulk of the company’s work came from security, training, and surveillance contracts. SSI still had a large contract force in Iraq and Afghanistan.

  They’d slowly moved away from operational work and branched into cyber warfare and R&D. Not only did SSI provide equipment and weapons systems for the United States government, it also developed software and products for civilian corporations. With Neil in the lead, SSI had grown into a virtual factory of American commerce.

  Cal was proud of the fact that his company now quietly led many of the most innovative brands in the world. Neil had even created a technology incubator that annually selected twenty technology start-ups from around the world, provided them with $100,000 for one year, mentored them through the rigors of launching, and allowed them to work in close proximity with either the Nashville or Charlottesville headquarters of SSI. The company would, of course, retain twenty percent of each venture.

  Over the past three years, out of the sixty start-ups they’d sponsored, thirty-two were already profitable. Six had already been sold to the likes of Google, Apple, and GE to the tune of 150 million dollars.

  Cal’s mind wandered as he stared at the high-def screen. This stint had been more of a vacation than an undercover operation. The big fat target they were getting paid to monitor did little more than eat, sit by the pool, and sleep. Even his entourage rarely left the confines of the beautiful resort.

  His cell phone buzzed silently in his pocket as Cal struggled to stay awake. He pulled it out of his shorts, looked at the caller ID and answered.

  It was his cousin. “Hey, Trav.”

  “I heard a nasty rumor that Willy drank you under the table, cuz.”

  Cal laughed. “Ain’t no rumor, Trav. I woke a sleeping giant and lost.”

  “I could’ve told you that would happen!” Travis laughed back.

  “I know. You live and learn.”

  Suddenly serious, Travis asked, “Hey, something just came up. How quickly can you get back here?”

  “Are you in Tennessee or Virginia?”

  “Virginia.”

  “I guess I could catch a flight tomorrow. We only have two more days left on this gig anyway.”

  “I need you back sooner.”

  Cal was curious about the sudden urgency. “You wanna give me a hint of what’s going on?”

  “We’ve had a request from the Council and they’re bringing an outsider to come see us.”

  An outsider? Cal couldn’t think of who it might be. “Huh. Let me make a couple calls and see if I can’t get out tonight.”

  “Call me when you know,” Travis said and finished the call.

  Cal replaced his phone and looked back up at the screen. The obese target was still lying in bed rubbing his rotund belly. Maybe it was time to go.

  Chapter 6

  Camp Cavalier, Charlottesville, VA

  7:45am, September 14th

  Cal walked into the Headquarters building of SSI’s Charlottesville outpost, Camp Cavalier. He tiredly nodded to the guard at the front desk. Sporting a three-day beard and the remnants of a red-eye flight gone wrong (they’d hit foul weather upon take-off and landing), Cal was quite a sight.

  The guard chuckled as he glanced up at Cal. “Good trip back?”

  Cal smiled with a sigh. “You better watch what you say or I may walk close enough that you can smell me.”

  The guard put up his hands and shook his head. “No thanks. Can I help you with your gear?”

  “I’m good. I’ll just make a quick run down to the showers and get cleaned up.”

  The guard looked a little embarrassed to add, “Travis asked that you come to his office as soon as you got here.”

  “I’ll tell him you told me, but I’ll be damned if I’ll walk in there smelling the way I do.”

  The guard shook his head again and waved, “Good luck, Cal.”

  Cal made his way to the staff locker room and took a much-needed shower. Ten minutes later he emerged wearing a slightly mussed pair of cargo shorts and collared shirt. It was the best he’d managed from his assorted island wear. There hadn’t been time to stop and get anything nicer.

  Oh well. They’d have to deal with it. Cal wasn’t much for fancy appearances these days anyway.

  He walked by Travis’s secretary who looked at Cal with an arched eyebrow. Cal ignored the look with a nod and knocked on Travis’s door.

  “Come in,” Travis barked from inside.

  Cal walked into the large office and glanced at the sitting area. Travis was seated, facing two men dressed in impeccable suits. They looked vaguely familiar and had similar bone structure. Father and son? Cal thought.

  “Cal, I’d like to introduce you to Senator Zimmer and Congressman Zimmer.” Travis stood as he motioned toward his guests.

  Cal shook both men’s hands and took a seat next to Travis. The younger Zimmer seemed to be sizing him up almost disgustedly. Cal didn’t like the vibe he was getting from Junior.

  “Gentlemen, I’d like to apologize for my appearance. I hopped on the first flight I could bribe myself onto.”

  “Not to worry, Cal. We just appreciate you getting here so quickly,” Senator Zimmer responded kindly.

  Travis continued, “Cal, this meeting was arranged by some mutual friends. The Senator has a slightly sticky situation he’d like our help with.”

  Cal knew that “mutual friends” meant the Council of Patriots. No doubt the elder Senator knew one or more members. It was strange to be meeting with current members of the U.S. government. Cal couldn’t wait to hear what this was all about.

  “How can I help, Senator?” Cal asked.

  “As Travis said, a mutual friend suggested I call you about a little problem my son has,” the Senator answered cryptically.

  “Little problem?”

  “I believe my son is being framed, Mr. Stokes,” Zimmer answered, suddenly serious.

  Cal looked over at the younger politician then back to Senator Zimmer. “In what way?”

  Senator Zimmer proceeded to tell the entire sordid tale. Cal simply sat in stunned silence. Congressman Zimmer looked like a beaten dog, eyes cast to the floor.

  Cal finally answered, “I’m sorry, Senator, but I don’t quite understand why you need our help. Wouldn’t the Secret Service or FBI be a better fit?”

  Senator Zimmer shook his head almost sadly. “Unfortunately, no. As much as I would love to see my son learn the lesson on his own, an episode of this caliber would not only destroy my son, but would also send untold ripples through Washington.”

  “I don’t mean to repeat myself, Senator, but I’m still confused about what you want us to do.”

  “Find out who’s doing this to my son.”

  Cal looked to T
ravis for guidance. He was in completely uncharted territory on this one. A murdered woman. A seemingly guilty Congressman. A famous Senator. What the hell was HE supposed to do? Never one to take the easy approach, Cal pressed on.

  “It seems to me that if Congressman Zimmer would resign and turn himself in, all this would be a moot point.”

  Brandon Zimmer jumped out his chair and pointed at Cal. “Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you! I don’t have to sit here and listen…”

  “Shut up and sit down, Brandon! I’m sorry, Mr. Stokes. Apparently my son still doesn’t appreciate the gravity of the situation.”

  Cal nodded skeptically. If they wanted the truth, he’d give it to them. It looked like Junior was about to have a nervous breakdown.

  Cal continued, “Senator, let’s say we do end up helping you, what do you want us to do once we’ve determined who the guilty party is?”

  “I’m not asking you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. What if we just start with finding out who they are. Once we have that, we can make a decision on which way to turn.”

  Cal thought for a minute. It didn’t sound like anything too overt. Maybe it’d end up being a little surveillance. The one thing Cal wasn’t looking forward to was dealing with Congressman Zimmer.

  “I’ll do it on one condition, Senator.”

  Sen. Zimmer’s eyebrow rose. “And what would that be, Mr. Stokes?”

  “Your son has to do EXACTLY what I say.”

  Over the strong objections of his son, Sen. Richard Zimmer answered with a wry smile, “Done.”

  Chapter 7

  Camp Cavalier, Charlottesville, VA

  8:39am, September 14th

  “You could’ve given me a heads-up, Trav.” Cal frowned at his cousin. The last thing he wanted to do was babysit a spoiled politician.