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

by C. G. Cooper

Briggs cocked his head in concern. “Anything I can help with?”

  “I’m not sure.” Cal didn’t know how much he should tell Briggs. On one hand, he knew he probably wouldn’t say anything. Most Marines knew how to keep their mouths shut. On the other hand, SSI’s mission in Las Vegas was completely off the reservation. If anyone so much as caught a whiff of what they were doing, it could spell real trouble for Cal and the company.

  “Do you mind if I ask you a couple questions first?”

  “Sure.” Briggs nodded.

  “Okay. First, anything I tell you today you can consider Top Secret. Cool?”

  “Cool.”

  “Second, what’s the deal with the CMH?” CMH is short for Congressional Medal of Honor.

  Daniel’s eyes went cold. “How did you find out about that?”

  “I have ways of finding out anything I need to. You okay with that?”

  “Why were you checking up on me?” Briggs accused.

  “Wouldn’t you do the same thing? You meet this guy that looks like he just stepped out of the jungle and he saves your life. Oh, AND he’s a Marine?”

  Daniel’s temper cooled and he actually laughed. “You’re right. I guess I forget how I come across sometimes.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t like to go into many relationships blind. With the resources I have at my disposal, I usually checkup on everybody I can. So you want to tell me about the CMH?”

  After a brief hesitation, Briggs explained. “Apparently the SEAL Commander put me in for it. I don’t want it.”

  “Why not?”

  “The damned thing makes it sound like I’m a fucking hero. I’m not. A hero would’ve saved those guys.” Cal could see tears coming to his eyes.

  “It’s just recording what you did, Daniel. From what it sounds like, you deserve it. And that’s coming from a guy who knows a thing or two about awards Marines don’t want.”

  Daniel looked. “What do you mean?”

  “Let’s just say I won an award for killing some bad guys and saving some buddies. I’d give it away if it meant getting my Marines back. It took me a long time to acknowledge the fact that I did something heroic. I don’t think I’m a hero either. I did just what they trained me to do: kill the enemy and take care of my Marines. The faster you come to that realization, the faster you’ll heal, man.”

  Briggs nodded thoughtfully. Was this the missing piece? Was God finally answering his prayers?

  Cal went on. “I want to introduce you to some of my guys. We’re all part of a company called Stokes Security International; SSI for short. My dad started it a few years back after he got out of the Corps. Who knows, maybe you’ll like it enough to stick around. We can never have enough lead-slingers around.”

  Cal smiled and was pleased when Daniel did the same. He was on unfamiliar ground. Of course he had the authority to hire new employees, but he hadn’t yet. Cal just got the feeling that there was something to Briggs that could really complement his team.

  He gave Briggs a quick rundown of what SSI did but decided to leave out the covert aspect. Better safe than sorry for now. They talked for a few more minutes. Cal was impressed with Daniel’s knowledge of Las Vegas. Like a true sniper, he’d evaluated the area with a cunning eye.

  Cal gave his new friend a quick brief on what they were up against. He left out the details concerning Zimmer’s blackmailing, and kept it to the threat coming from Ichiban.

  “How about you join us for lunch at noon? I can introduce you to the rest of the guys and maybe you can poke holes in our plan.”

  Daniel accepted the invitation and excused himself to run a few errands.

  Cal watched him go, all the time wondering if he’d just found a diamond in the rough.

  +++

  Ishi had spent the morning trying to run damage control. His father had flown into a murderous rage at the news of the escape. It was only the impending coup that had finally calmed the incensed Nakamura.

  “From now on, you will not leave Matsura’s sight!” Kazuo Nakamura pointed at the third man in the room. The small man smiled and bowed to his master.

  “Matsura has already coordinated our deliveries. It is now a simple matter for him to monitor the situation. I have talked to our contact about recent events. He assures me that he can provide information that will eliminate the threat of this Calvin Stokes.”

  “What kind of information, father?”

  Nakamura glared at his son. “It will be provided to Matsura when I receive it.”

  “What about the Congressman?” Ishi dared to ask.

  Father smiled at son. “I have taken care of Congressman Zimmer. He is no longer your concern.”

  He walked away. It was a dismissal.

  Ishi’s embarrassment was complete. His failures laid bare, the young Japanese felt afraid. Would his father keep him from the coming glory? Just as he had the thought, he shook it off. His father wouldn’t throw him to the side. Ishi was his only child. Since the day of his birth, they’d groomed him for this moment. Ishi would listen to his father for the time being. Soon enough, he would exact his vengeance on his family’s enemies. His father would come to see that all his training was not in vain.

  +++

  The SSI team met at noon. There were no immediate updates from Neil. Cal was desperate for more intel on the Ichiban organization, so he allowed Neil to keep clicking away while the rest of the group talked.

  He’d started the meeting by quickly introducing Briggs to his team. It was clear that Zimmer wasn’t happy about having an outsider involved, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. After hearing the story about Briggs coming to Cal and Brian’s aid, the Congressman couldn’t disagree that the sniper might be a valuable asset.

  “So now that we have a lock on where Ichiban houses its main servers, we need to get in there and see what we can find. As of now, we don’t have anything concrete on these guys. At least nothing we can take to the Feds,” explained Cal. “We know they’ve augmented their own security staff with some Russian thugs. Me, Brian, and Top are compromised. We won’t be able to set foot in any of their hotels. That means it’ll be up to Gaucho’s guys.”

  Gaucho raised his hand. “How much money are you gonna give us to hit the tables, boss?”

  The assembled men all laughed. Leave it to Gaucho to keep it light.

  “I’m not giving you a fucking penny, Gaucho,” Cal joked. “I heard about your shitty luck in Tunica.”

  Everyone laughed again. The Hispanic commando did like to spend his time off at the Mississippi casinos. Contrary to what Cal said, he often came home with pockets bulging.

  Briggs raised his hand and the room went silent. Up to that point, he’d said little more than hello to the elite team. They all sensed a warrior in him, even without knowing about his exploits.

  Cal pointed at him. “Whatcha got, Daniel?”

  “I was wondering if maybe I could be one of the guys going into that hotel.”

  Everyone looked to Cal. It’s not what he’d expected. “I really just brought you here for a little Vegas insight. I’m not sure I feel comfortable putting you in harm’s way.”

  “I’ll stay out of the way. It’s just that I know these places a lot better than these guys. No offense, fellas.” He looked around the room to nods of agreement.

  “Okay,” Cal assented, “Gaucho, use Daniel however you need. I’d prefer he sticks to recon.”

  Gaucho nodded and patted Daniel on the back.

  “Okay, any other questions?” Cal asked his men.

  “You want me to stay with the Congressman?” Trent asked.

  “Yeah. Make sure that we…”

  “Oh shit.” Everyone turned toward Neil. He was clicking his mouse frantically, pulling up multiple screens.

  “What is it, Neil?” asked a concerned Cal.

  “They just posted the murder scene video on YouTube.”

  Congressman Brandon Zimmer paled and looked close to vomiting.

 
“I guess they just called our bluff,” Cal offered conversationally.

  +++

  After Daniel and the contingency team left, the remaining men crowded around Neil’s computer screen. The video was exactly one minute long. There was no sound, only a flickering subtitle: “Woman butchered by popular politician. More details coming soon.” Zimmer cringed as Beth’s naked body flashed into focus. Luckily they’d decided to blur her face, for now. The camera panned around the dismembered body and bloody bed. No one said a word.

  I can’t imagine waking up to that, Cal thought. Although he’d resisted it before, he now allowed a shred of sympathy for the Congressman’s predicament. Cal was pretty sure the man standing next to him had not been the culprit of the gory scene replaying over and over again on the computer screen.

  +++

  “Did you really think that was necessary?” the politician asked Kazuo Nakamura.

  “The Congressman forced our hand. He was given explicit instructions. He decided not to follow them. Now he will know that we are very serious about exposing him.” Nakamura took another sip of his green tea. Posting the video had been a gamble, especially in the presence of his current guest, but he had to maintain his position of power.

  “Very well. How is the rest of our little agreement progressing?” asked the politician, between sips of his own tea.

  “The upcoming convention is proving to be a problem.”

  “Why is that?”

  “The Secret Service is being extremely diligent. We are concerned that all the pieces will not be in place on time.”

  “You assured me that this would not be a problem. What do we need to do to remedy the situation?” the politician asked through gritted teeth. He’d put a lot of faith in the Japanese businessman. They were too far along to turn back. Besides, he’d waited long enough for his day in the national spotlight. Only yesterday, he’d listened as the blithering idiot in the White House had bowed to yet another foreign dictator. The President had become a foreign policy nightmare. It was time for strength within the Democratic Party once more. FDR must be rolling in his grave, the politician thought, not for the first time.

  “I think we can handle the Secret Service. I am, however, concerned with this SSI organization. Do you have the information you promised?”

  The politician smiled. He’d called in a lot of favors for the contents in the manila envelope. There’d also been some substantial bribes to loosen the tongues of some ultra-patriotic federal agents. Nevertheless, the information contained in the envelope would not only take care of the SSI problem, but would bolster the politician’s new platform as President. Yes, it was time to clean the skeletons out of the closet. America would be a shining example of strength and transparency. No more pansy pandering to terrorists and third world countries. It was about time America had a real democratic leader at the helm.

  “Everything you need is in this envelope. Do not release the information to the public until the hour we discussed. You may, however, use the information to dissuade SSI from further involvement near our little operation.”

  Nakamura finally smiled to his guest. He would have to remember how ruthless this man could be. Unconcerned, Nakamura knew he had enough evidence to condemn the man should the politician decide to cast the Japanese aside. Besides, the packages that were presently being delivered were his organization’s ultimate insurance policy. The two men were connected for better or worse.

  +++

  The Council members sat in stunned silence as the YouTube video replayed across their screens for the second time. Pres. Waller pressed STOP and addressed the group via video conference.

  “So as you can see, the ante’s just been upped. I’ll be heading out to Las Vegas soon for the convention. I’m planning on having regular contact with Stokes. Once I know more I’ll get you an update.”

  The members of The Council of Patriots disconnected from the call. To a man, no one would correctly predict the final outcome of the coming drama.

  Chapter 23

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  9:12am, September 18th

  The Democratic Party was converging on Las Vegas. The convention began in two days. Congressman Zimmer had already gotten ten phone calls from staffers and fellow Congressmen traveling to Vegas. They all wanted to ask if he’d watched the YouTube video and see if he had a guess as to who the murderer might be. He’d laughed off the questions and asked whether they were the guilty party.

  He dreaded every call. His paranoid mind kept telling him that they knew it was him. Zimmer knew they didn’t, but he wondered what they’d say when they found out he was involved. They’d crucify him. He didn’t think badly of them for it. He knew he would’ve done the same thing a few months ago. They were as clueless as he’d been.

  Zimmer remembered watching all those documentaries about Americans spying for Russia during the Cold War. He wondered how many of those spies were just normal people being blackmailed into betraying their country.

  His phone buzzed again. It was his father.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “I assume you’ve seen the video?”

  Brandon cringed. “Yeah.”

  “So what are our friends doing about it?”

  “They’re looking into it, Dad.”

  “We need to meet, Brandon. Where are you staying?”

  Brandon told him. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

  Congressman Zimmer looked down at his phone. The last thing he needed right now was an ass-chewing by good ol’ dad. Zimmer walked to the wet bar, poured himself two fingers of bourbon, and drained the glass.

  He walked back to his laptop and watched the crime scene video for the twentieth time. It was already up to just over one million views.

  +++

  Thirty minutes later, Senator Zimmer walked into Brandon’s hotel room. He was handsomely attired in the latest golf wear.

  “I’ve only got twenty minutes, Brandon. I’m meeting some colleagues at the Wynn for eighteen, so give me the rundown quickly.”

  Brandon summarized the events of the past forty-eight hours. Once again, his father didn’t interrupt. Brandon knew his father. He’d already be formulating a contingency plan in his head. One of the reasons Senator Zimmer was such a long-standing politician was his ability to think five steps ahead and outmaneuver his opponents. The last true electoral test he’d had was fifteen years earlier when a grandson of JFK decided to try his hand at politics. Voters longed for the dynasty of the past, but the Zimmer machine soon killed the young man’s chances. Past dalliances were unearthed and witnesses were paraded onto every morning show on Massachusetts radio and television.

  No one could trace the attack back to the Zimmer camp, but they all knew. Mess with the crafty Senator and he’d make your life hell.

  Richard Zimmer had mellowed a bit with age. He was comfortable in his position. He’d brokered deals for billions of dollars of government aid and contracts to be funneled to his home state. The voters loved him.

  “What does Mr. Stokes have in mind for fixing this problem?”

  “Dad, I want to say something, but I think it’ll piss you off.”

  “Out with it, Brandon,” growled an increasingly impatient Sen. Zimmer.

  “I’m considering turning myself in. I think Cal and his team have done what we asked. I don’t feel comfortable putting them in any more danger.”

  Visibly surprised by his son’s request, the Senator took a moment to respond.

  “I appreciate you trying to take responsibility for the situation, Son. It seems as though you’ve grown a bit this week. That being said, I do not think this is the right moment to go to the authorities. I’ve already privately consulted our attorney and he seems to think that the evidence wouldn’t hold up in court. However, in the court of public opinion you would be crucified. I think that’s the risk we need to take. With the Presidential election so close, we need to be careful.”

  Brandon wasn’t sure if he agree
d with his father. And yet, he was a little relieved to hear that should the worst happen he might not go to jail.

  “So what should we do?”

  “Let’s see what Cal’s team comes up with. Maybe they’ll get lucky and get their hands on the evidence. Until we give them a shot, let’s sit tight and wait.”

  Once again, Brandon couldn’t really argue with his father. The only thing worse than the video was the waiting.

  +++

  Daniel left the hotel and headed to a nearby storage facility. Walking up to the glassed entrance, he typed his personal entry code. Briggs went almost to the end of the straight hallway. His unit was the second to last on the left.

  He pulled out his key and unlocked the rolling door, sliding it up. Daniel quickly entered the eight by ten unit and closed the door behind him. He’d rigged a custom lock inside the unit so he could stay undisturbed. After locking the door he turned around and surveyed his unit. Everything was neatly stacked. Just after getting to Las Vegas, he purchased several large metal storage containers. They were each about two feet tall by two feet wide and stretched four feet in length. The damn things were heavy as hell, but sturdy and impregnable by all but the best thieves.

  Briggs unlocked the box on the far left and opened the lid. He had a variety of weapons neatly arrayed in mini racks. Since moving to Las Vegas, he’d methodically stocked his private armory. Once or twice a week, he visited a different outdoor store. Occasionally, when he had enough cash, he’d head to a gun shop and pickup a new firearm. Briggs never bought in the same place twice.

  The box he examined contained mostly smaller weapons. Other containers held his long rifles. He wouldn’t need those, for the time being.

  Daniel unslung the backpack from his shoulder and set it on the ground. He picked out a couple of things he thought he might need in the next few days. His sixth sense started to prickle again. He could feel the coming tension. It was the same feeling he used to get before going on a particularly dangerous op.