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

by C. G. Cooper

  Nakamura walked up and hugged him. “How come you didn’t call me when you got in? I would’ve sent up some champagne or something.”

  “It was late when we got in last night. I didn’t want to bother you.”

  “You’re never a bother, my friend. Remember, you are MY responsibility.”

  Trent detected a slight flare of a threat in Nakamura’s tone.

  “God, I’m sorry, Ishi. I forgot to introduce you to my new bodyguard. Willy Trent, this is my old friend, Ishi Nakamura.”

  The two men shook hands. “Good to meet you, Mr. Trent. Can I call you Willy?” Ishi asked pleasantly.

  “Mr. Trent would be just fine, sir.”

  Ishi’s face fell for a split second. He recovered and said, “Once a Marine, always a Marine, eh, Mr. Trent?”

  “That’s right, sir. You can take the man out of the Marines, but you can’t take the Marine out of the man.”

  Ishi laughed. “Ha! I like that. Either way, welcome to Las Vegas and let us know if the hotel’s security team can help in any way.”

  Ishi turned to Congressman Zimmer. “Brandon, I’ve got some people I’d like you to meet later today. They’re big donors and are helping with the planning for the Democratic National Convention. How about we grab dinner tonight?”

  Zimmer looked to Trent who nodded. “Sounds good. What time should we meet you down here?”

  “Let’s make it seven thirty.”

  “Alright, we’ll see you then.”

  The two men shook hands again and went their separate ways. As Nakamura passed the concierge desk, his phone buzzed. He picked it up.

  Ishi answered in Japanese. “Did you see your target?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Make sure he’s taken before my dinner with the Congressman. I want no mistakes.”

  “Yes, Nakamura-san.”

  Ishi ended the call and continued to his office. It’s time to teach Brandon a little lesson.

  +++

  Trent hailed a cab and held the door open for Zimmer. Five minutes later, they were getting out in front of Caesar’s Palace. During the ride, Trent spotted two vehicles following them from the hotel.

  “Sir, I’m gonna need you to do exactly as I say,” Trent murmured to Zimmer.

  “Huh? What’s going on?” he whispered back.

  “Just keep walking toward the main entrance over there. Don’t look around. We’ve got a tail.”

  “Is it someone from the hotel?” Zimmer asked calmly.

  “Yes. Now we’re gonna do a little extra walking. Follow me.”

  Trent slipped in front of Zimmer and started weaving his way through the morning crowd. Brandon followed closely.

  Willy pulled out his phone and dialed Cal.

  “Yeah?” Cal answered.

  “We’ve got extra friends trying to wreck the party. Let’s move to the backup location.”

  “I’ll see you there.”

  Trent pulled his phone away from his ear and walked faster. Zimmer was having a hard time not running just to match the Marine’s long stride. They walked quickly around the curved drive. Trent walked up to a cab and hopped in, Zimmer right behind.

  Willy instructed the driver to go to Circus Circus at the north end of the The Strip.

  “What the hell is going on?” Zimmer whispered.

  “I think your friend Ishi sent some of his goons after us. Not sure if it’s just to keep an eye on us or what. I didn’t want to take any chances.”

  “Should we even go back to the hotel later?”

  “What choice do we have? Let’s focus on getting to this meeting first. Maybe Cal will have something for us.” Trent continued to watch behind them. He couldn’t pinpoint anyone following, but that didn’t matter. He’d learned long ago to trust his sixth sense. Right now it was blaring like a foghorn.

  Ten minutes later, the cab pulled out of the congested corridor and pulled up in front of the aged Circus Circus. Trent paid the driver then followed Zimmer over to the front entrance.

  “We’re supposed to meet Cal and Brian in front of the Krispy Kreme stand in the Slots of Fun side of the casino. Stay close now, Congressman.”

  No sooner had they stepped off towards the entrance that they both felt a pinch on their necks. At first, Trent thought it was a horse fly bite. That was until Zimmer collapsed to the pavement. A large limousine pulled up beside them. The last thing Trent saw before he fell unconscious was the rushed steps of four men running his way.

  +++

  “Where the hell are they?” Cal thought out loud.

  “Have you tried calling him again?” Brian asked.

  “Yeah. Three times. There’s no way Top left his phone in the hotel room.”

  “Want me to go outside and take a look?”

  “No. Let’s both go. Maybe they just got caught in traffic.”

  As they walked, Cal texted Neil to track the GPS locator in Trent’s phone. All SSI phones were rigged for tracking.

  They stepped out into the sunlight and looked around. No sign of Trent and the Congressman. Cal’s phone buzzed.

  “What did you find, Neil?”

  “The locator says Trent is standing right in front of the main entrance to Circus Circus.”

  “Hold on. Let me walk that way.”

  Cal pushed past a group of drunken gamblers and headed to the front of the casino.

  “Do you see him?” Neil asked.

  “Not yet. You sure you’ve got it right?”

  “I’m showing a full signal. No way this thing is wrong.”

  Cal started jogging. His anxiety increased as he reached the sidewalk leading into the building. Both men looked all around.

  “Cal, look!” Brian was pointing at the ground.

  Lying on the ground next to a pair of broken sunglasses was MSgt Trent’s cell phone.

  “Holy shit. Neil, message Trav and have him send in the contingency team.”

  Cal ended the call and sprinted to catch a cab.

  Chapter 18

  Camp Spartan, Arrington, TN

  12:16pm, September 17th

  Travis Haden addressed his three closest advisors: Todd Dunn, Marge Haines, and Dr. Higgins, SSI’s resident psychologist. He’d just run through the details from Cal.

  “So, Cal just called for the contingency team. I think we better prep for the worst. Any questions?”

  Marge Haines started, “What do we have on books as far as Trent’s security with Zimmer?”

  “I can answer that,” Todd Dunn said. “We tasked him out as a VIP security contract. By the way, I just got confirmation that the contingency team is in the air.”

  “Good,” Travis nodded. “What else?”

  “Who else knew about the security arrangement?” Haines asked.

  Dunn shrugged. “We’ll have to assume that Zimmer’s immediate support staff knows. Senator Zimmer is also in the loop.”

  Dr. Higgins raised his hand. “Have you thought about a possible leak, Travis?”

  “I’ve thought about it, but don’t have a clue who it could be.”

  “I think it’s fair to assume that the operation has been compromised and we’re dealing with a larger threat than we initially believed,” Higgins intoned professionally.

  “I think you’re right, Doc. First, Cal tells me about getting attacked by these giant Russians. Now, Top and Zimmer are gone. I think we need to alert the Council and start putting some more pieces into play.”

  “Is it time to involve the authorities?” Haines asked.

  “Let’s give Cal a little time. I find it hard to believe that this Japanese group would dispose of Zimmer so soon. I think something else is brewing,” Travis said.

  “I concur,” agreed Dr. Higgins. “It looks like our new enemy is taking extreme measures to keep us out of the picture. Do we have any thoughts on their motive other than to blackmail Congressman Zimmer?”

  “Neil’s working on it right now. I think Cal said he was close to getting into the Ich
iban system,” answered Travis.

  “Seems like a long time for Neil to crack the code,” Dunn noted.

  “Yeah. I think these Ichiban guys have some serious horsepower under the hood. I’m not liking it,” answered Travis. “Let’s meet up again in an hour. Maybe we’ll have some good news from Vegas by then.”

  +++

  Congressman Zimmer woke up to a splitting headache. He tried to open his eyes but realized they were covered by a blindfold. His arms were numb and bound to the chair he was tied to. Where the hell am I?

  He tried to shift into a more comfortable position and heard a chair squeak.

  “Hello?” Zimmer croaked. He noticed his throat was bone dry.

  “I thought we talked about expectations, Brandon?”

  “Ishi?”

  “Yes. I don’t think you understand the position you’ve put me in. We saved you from public embarrassment and possibly life in jail. You repay us by ignoring our rules and taking advantage of our friendship,” Ishi explained smoothly.

  “What the hell are you talking about, man?”

  “Let’s start with your bodyguard. If you were worried about personal security, why didn’t you contact someone within your government?” Ishi asked.

  “No one listens to a first-term Congressman. They’d think I was just being paranoid.”

  “Okay. So why didn’t you ask us for additional security?”

  Zimmer almost laughed. He might be a little naïve, but he wasn’t stupid.

  “Look man, I know I owe you guys a lot, but this is ridiculous. I’m sorry if I broke the rules. If I’d known how much of a problem it would be, I wouldn’t have hired Trent.”

  “Well, you won’t have to worry about Master Sergeant Trent anymore.”

  Brandon’s stomach went to his throat.

  “What did you do with him, Ishi?”

  “Oh, you’ll see him soon enough. He’s being employed in a more…entertaining way. Are you almost ready for dinner?”

  “Tell me where Trent is, Ishi.”

  “ENOUGH! I’m not the little punk you knew at Harvard, Congressman. You can’t push me around anymore. From now on you do exactly as I say. Is that understood?”

  Brandon knew he couldn’t win this fight. He decided to keep his mouth shut and bide his time. At the moment, his own safety didn’t seem so important. His main thought as Ishi untied his arms was: Where is Willy Trent?

  +++

  MSgt Trent opened his eyes. Where was Zimmer? He quickly surveyed his surroundings. His prison cell was a small windowless room. The space was about ten by ten, the floor concrete. They’d laid him on an old cot with a thin, musty mattress. Trent struggled to his feet. His head pounded. What the hell had they knocked him out with? He remembered the last seconds before passing out. He remembered Zimmer going down. Where the hell is he?

  Once his mind cleared, he realized they’d taken his clothes. The only thing covering his extensive frame was a stylish loincloth. His captors had also attached a thick collar around his neck. What the hell? He flexed his neck and felt around the edges of the leather collar. It felt completely locked in place. Trent thought he detected a small antenna on it as well.

  Take a deep breath and think, Willy.

  Over the years he’d been in some strange situations. This one was definitely taking the cake. He must look like an overgrown Zulu warrior right now. What was next? A spear and shield? Someone’s gonna pay for this shit.

  As he pondered payback, a robotic voice sparked to life from a hidden speaker.

  “In ten minutes, you will be escorted to the weapons room.”

  “Say what?” Willy yelled back at the faceless voice.

  “Prepare yourself.”

  There were no further instructions. Trent stood baffled. What the hell was going on?

  +++

  Congressman Zimmer’s clothes were waiting for him. Following Ishi’s instructions, he changed and used the bathroom to clean up. They’d given him five minutes.

  Five minutes later a Japanese man, dressed in a butler’s uniform, entered the room.

  “Congressman Zimmer, Nakamura-san has requested your presence.” The man bowed waiting for a response.

  “Okay. I’m, uh, I’m ready to go.”

  Zimmer followed the man through a short maze of doorways. He occasionally glimpsed a window. The night outside was pitch black. The building felt part industrial part high-end hotel. Where were they? He never saw an exterior door. No easy way out.

  Reaching the end of the hallway, the butler opened a heavy oak door. He held it for the Congressman who stepped in alone.

  “Ah, here he is!” Zimmer recognized Ishi’s voice in the dimly lit room. He looked around and found himself in an elegantly appointed dining room. A group of older Asian gentlemen were gathered near a large plate-glass window.

  Brandon put on his best politician smile and stepped into the gloom. “Hey, Ishi.”

  The men in the corner stopped talking and stared at the freshman Congressman from Massachusetts. Who are these guys? They were giving him the creeps with the way they looked at him.

  “Congressman Zimmer, please let me introduce you to my father and some of his associates,” Ishi said loud enough for the room to hear.

  Brandon followed Ishi to the group. He went to glance at the large window, but the light beyond flicked off as if on command.

  “Father, this is my good friend Congressman Zimmer.”

  Kazuo Nakamura stepped forward and shook Zimmer’s hand. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Congressman. My son has told me so much about you.” He smiled almost conspiratorially.

  “Please, Mr. Nakamura, call me Brandon.”

  “Very well.” He turned to his associates. “I won’t bother to tell you all their names, but let me introduce you. These men are my closest friends. They are all captains of industry and leaders of Japan. We trace our family roots back to the days of the samurai, through the rise of our Empire during the Second World War, and now Japan’s rebuilding. Together we’ve known both loss and success. In short, they are as close as family.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you all,” Brandon said respectfully.

  “Do you enjoy hand-to-hand combat, Brandon?” asked Ishi’s father.

  “I’ve watched a little Mixed Martial Arts on television. It’s okay,” Brandon answered.

  Kazuo Nakamura chuckled. “Ah yes. Your country calls it MMA. Well, what we have tonight is MUCH more exciting than your MMA. Can Ishi get you something to drink, Brandon?”

  “Uh, sure.”

  Congressman Zimmer’s mind swirled. He had a sinking feeling about the night’s festivities.

  +++

  A buzz sounded and the door to MSgt Trent’s cell opened. No one entered.

  “Follow the hallway to the left and enter the weapons room,” the voice overhead ordered.

  “Sure would be nice if you said please,” Trent shot back. When he didn’t get a response he entered the illuminated hallway. He walked slowly toward the weapons room. At set intervals he could now see other cell doors and video cameras installed above. Trent waved to the cameras and kept walking.

  Reaching the only other open door, he peeked in. Inside was an impressive array of weapons displayed in stainless steel racks. Not the typical weapons Trent was used to seeing in armories. There were no firearms. All types of swords, spears, and tridents waited on one side of the space. The other side housed shields of varying sizes, along with nets. There were two of everything. Trent whistled quietly and looked up at the closest camera.

  “Impressive shit you have here, fellas.”

  “You have five minutes to arm. Take your weapons of choice and make your way to the door at the other side of the room,” the voice ordered.

  Trent surveyed the racks. Being a lead instructor at SSI, he had experience with a multitude of arms. That included weapons of opportunity; everything from lead pipes to broken beer bottles. He finally found what he wanted. Ignoring the
larger items, he picked up two identical blades. Fuck it. If I’m going out, I’m going down swinging with a couple KA-BARs, baby. The former Marine Master Sergeant took an overhand grip on both.

  He cracked his neck to both sides, shook the tension out of his arms and legs, walked to the opposite end of the room and waited.

  +++

  Congressman Zimmer tried to be cordial as he mingled with the group of successful Japanese elders. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it felt like they were subtly trying get his take on the American economy. There were little comments like: “Would you say the dollar is more favorable than the Euro?” “What will new housing starts be next quarter?” “Will Congress re-examine its stance on internet gaming?”

  Taken separately and outside the current situation, they might be innocent questions. He’d heard them all before. And yet, he sensed a well-concealed urgency in their tone. What the hell were they after?

  These were men of substance. All seemed to have a fierce determination lying beneath their passive facial expressions.

  A quiet gong rang from some unseen corner.

  “Gentlemen, please direct your attention to the arena. Our festivities are about to begin,” the white-haired butler announced.

  Congressman Zimmer followed the excitedly murmuring crowd to the large window. As he found a spot, the area beyond the glass slowly illuminated. The arena was about one floor below their vantage point. It looked like a smaller version of the gladiatorial rings he’d seen in Italy. The floor was even covered in sand. What the hell is this? Zimmer thought.

  Kazuo Nakamura made his way over to Brandon, with Ishi in tow. He addressed Zimmer in a measured tone.

  “What you are about to see is usually reserved for our private enjoyment. You see we were all warriors in our past lives. Now we must feel the sting of a blade or the blunt side of a shield vicariously through others. This facility was built especially for such events. We felt that in your current…situation…it might be useful to have you enjoy this as well.”

  Nakamura turned to the butler and nodded. The servant pressed a small button on the wall and a door in the arena opened. Zimmer watched as a huge man entered the small arena. From his vantage point, Brandon could swear the man stood almost eight feet tall. He was covered head-to-toe in tattoos. In his right arm, he carried an enormous spiked club over his shoulder. Turning to the viewing window, the behemoth bowed.