by C. G. Cooper
“You want in, Cal?” Trent asked over his shoulder.
“We need to talk.” The seriousness of his tone made both men turn.
Cal sat down at the table next to Zimmer. The Congressman glanced down at the sheets of paper. “What’s that?”
“Neil hacked into their system. We don’t know everything yet, but hopefully we will soon. I need your help, Congressman.”
Brandon looked at Cal. It was the first time the Marine had asked him for anything.
“How can I help?”
Spreading the list on the table, Cal explained. “These are the names of other politicians and government employees that the guys behind Ichiban have been blackmailing. Some of them are long-standing. Some are new to the list. The problem is, we don’t know what they’re being used for.”
“I’m still confused. How again do you want me to help?”
“I need you to remember whether this Nakamura guy ever asked you for anything. Did he try to get any information out of you? Did they try to get access to secure files or facilities? Anything out of the ordinary?”
Zimmer sat back and thought about the last six months. At first glance, nothing stood out. He’d thought at the time that Ishi was just working up to asking him something. It always felt like there was a request right around the corner. After all, why else blackmail a Congressman unless you want something in return?
“Not that I can remember. They kept it pretty professional.”
Cal knew there had to be a goal. “Did they ever give you anything?”
Zimmer shook his head in frustration. “No. Honestly, I don’t remember them trying to manipulate me other than that morning with Beth.”
Cal pointed to the list. “Do you recognize any of these names?”
“Of course. Some of them are very powerful men.”
“What about a connection. Do you serve with them on any committees? Do they run in the same social circles?”
Zimmer thought for a second. He really wanted to help, but he was the new guy in Washington. He wasn’t useful to the old stalwarts yet. “No. I’ve met the Senators before because of Dad, but I really only know two or three of the Representatives on that list.”
It felt like it was just beyond reach.
Daniel interrupted Cal’s reverie. “You mind if I take a look at the list, Cal?”
“Have at it.”
Cal slid the list across the table. Briggs looked down at the list with Trent. Cal was right. Nothing jumped out. Then an idea popped into the sniper’s head: what if it wasn’t WHO they were but WHERE they were? Each name had a two-letter abbreviation for the state they served. Daniel scanned the list again, simply focusing on the geographical locations.
The others noticed his increased concentration.
“What do you see, Daniel?” Cal asked.
“I’m not sure, but I think there’s a connection with the states these guys represent.”
He read the states out loud. “Ohio, Florida, Virginia, Nevada, Iowa, Colorado…”
“Wait a minute,” Zimmer interrupted, “those are all swing states!”
Cal looked over at the Congressman in confusion. “Like for the election?”
“I’m not sure about Colorado, but I’m pretty sure the rest of those states are a toss-up right now. But, how could they have known that before the election?”
Cal didn’t have a clue, but at least they’d latched on to something. “So you’re saying that the Presidential candidates are fighting over these states?”
“Do you ever know what’s going on in politics, Cal? Even I know this stuff,” Trent teased.
“What can I say? I vote, but in general, politics make me want to throw up. No offense, Congressman.”
A week earlier, Zimmer might have fought for his profession. Now, he understood the Marine’s point of view. Looking at the blackmail list proved how dirty politics could be.
“Don’t worry about it. Right about now it makes me want to puke, too.”
The response surprised Cal. Maybe the Congressman really was coming around. He turned back to the list. “Okay, so are we in agreement that these guys might be trying to rig the election?” Nods around the table. “If that’s the case, why go to all the trouble? If they want the President to get re-elected, why not just dump a bunch of money into the campaign?”
No one had an answer. What they didn’t know was that there would soon be another candidate in the race for President.
+++
After calling SSI headquarters and updating Travis and his staff, the four men walked down to Neil’s suite. They were all energized by the recent revelation. These Japanese guys had some balls.
As they walked, one question kept nagging at Cal: Where was the leak?
+++
The politician smiled into the mirror. Tomorrow would be a very big day. As long as Nakamura kept his end of the bargain, he’d have the election wrapped up in a matter of days.
Chapter 32
Las Vegas, Nevada
3:17pm, September 18th
Kazuo Nakamura called the number for the third time. It wasn’t like his prized assassin not to check in. Still no answer.
Ishi looked on with interest. For years, Matsura had been a thorn in his side. The man never said much, but Ishi could see his influence growing. Sometimes he felt like his father treated the assassin more like a favored son. Secretly, he hoped the man disappeared.
“Have you tried him again?” Nakamura asked his son.
“Yes, Father. He’s not answering calls or texts.”
“Maybe he is busy disposing of the bodies.”
“I think we need to assume the worst, Father.”
Nakamura shot his son a murderous glare. “What do you mean?”
“With all due respect, Father, I think we’ve underestimated our adversaries again.”
“I’ve sent that man out alone to kill five men at once before! He does not fail!”
Ishi bowed to his father, silently relishing the old man’s lack of composure. “I know he has never failed, Father. Maybe he finally met his match.”
Kazuo Nakamura paced back and forth, hoping his phone would ring. “We had them within our grasp! We’ve taken care of the Secret Service and the FBI. How is it that Stokes is evading us?”
Ishi knew he had to steer the conversation back to the task at hand. “Father, tomorrow will be the start of a glorious new path for our people. Perhaps we should focus on that, instead.”
His father looked at him with an uncertain gaze. “Of course. Of course, you’re right, my son. We must get back to finalizing our plans for tomorrow’s festivities.”
Ishi nodded and pulled out the chair for his father. Both men sat down and returned to the drawing of the Las Vegas Convention Center.
+++
Cal checked the caller ID on the dead assassin’s phone. “Same number. Did you get a lock on the signal yet?”
Neil shook his head. “I don’t know how they’re doing it, but I can’t pinpoint where the call is coming from.”
“I thought you had that super duper tracking system.”
Patel shot his friend an exasperated look. “I do. Problem is, the number isn’t registered anywhere. It’s like a ghost.”
“Maybe I should call him and ask him where he is,” Cal offered.
Instead of replying, Neil gave Cal the finger.
“Take it easy on him, Cal.” Trent moved closer. “But maybe you’re on to something. Hey, Neil, would it help if Cal got the caller on the line?”
“Of course, but once the guy hears it’s not the dead dude, he’s gonna hang up. I need him on the line for more than a second.”
“Maybe Cal can piss the guy off and get him to start talking. How long do you need him on the line?”
Neil wasn’t sure. He’d never run into a number that he couldn’t track. “I don’t know. Maybe thirty seconds?”
Trent turned to Cal. “You think you can get under the guy’s skin?”
Stokes grinned.
“That’s my specialty. Just ask Neil.”
Patel gave him the finger again, then refocused on the tracking program.
+++
Five minutes later, everybody was ready. Gaucho had two of his four man teams loaded into their vehicles in the parking garage. Neil sat poised at his computer, ready to track the call. Cal picked up the dead man’s phone. “Everyone ready?” There were murmurs of assent around the room.
Cal nodded and dialed the number.
+++
Nakamura glanced at his phone. The call was from Matsura. He breathed a sigh of relief and answered.
“Where are you?”
“In hell,” Cal replied.
Nakamura’s eyes went wide. “Who is this?”
“Somebody you don’t want to fuck with.”
“Where is my employee?”
“Oh, you mean the dead guy?”
Nakamura couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Had they really killed Matsura?
“Where is he?”
“I told you. He’s probably having a nice little conversation with the devil right now.”
“You will pay for this! I will unleash all…”
“Now listen here, asshole. I think it’s about time you and I had a little chat. I’m sick of having to kick the crap out of all your goons.”
Ishi kept motioning for his father to end the call. The manufacturer had promised it was untraceable, but it was stupid to take the chance. The elder Nakamura ignored him. His pride demanded he confront the cocky American.
“So you are prepared to have me release all our evidence to the authorities?”
“That’s where you keep misunderstanding. I could give a shit about a bunch of politicians. Let them fend for themselves. What do you really have? Some pictures of old guys hanging out and talking? That’s all retired politicians do!”
Nakamura didn’t know how to respond. His contact had assured him that the contents of the envelope would scare off the meddlers.
“I think you are the one misunderstanding me. There will soon be a shift in your puny world. An avalanche is about to cover your little company. I will destroy you.”
Cal laughed. “You’re welcome to try, buddy. Thing is, next time why don’t you show up to the party instead of sending one of your cronies?”
Ishi finally grabbed the phone out of his father’s hand and ended the call.
“What are you doing?!” Kazuo Nakamura screamed.
“I’m saving you from making a big mistake, Father. Is it not you who is always telling me to keep my emotions out of business? We are too close to victory to lose our tempers.”
Nakamura took a deep breath. His son was right. He wasn’t used to having things not go his way. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d failed at anything. It was an unsettling feeling.
“I’m sorry, son. Thank you for putting things in perspective.”
Ishi nodded and handed the phone back to his father. “Should we go back to our planning?”
Nakamura nodded and returned his attention to the Las Vegas Convention Center diagram.
+++
“Did you get him?” asked Cal, expectantly.
“No.”
“What do you mean? I swear I had him on the line for over a minute, Neil.”
“I know, but they’re using some really new technology. I didn’t even get a blip in my program.”
“Shit,” Cal muttered to himself.
Zimmer walked over to the pair. “Did you really mean what you said about not caring about the politicians?”
Stokes looked into the man’s eyes. “We weren’t talking about the list, Congressman. It’s something else.” They’d chosen to keep any talk of the Council away from Zimmer.
“Something you can’t tell me about?”
“Yeah.”
“Look, I’m in the middle of this thing too. I think you need to…”
Cal’s eyes flared. “I think you need to remember that we’re here to save YOUR ass, Congressman. The last time I checked, I wasn’t the one who got caught with his pants down. Last time I checked, me and my guys are the ones getting shot at. Now, if you want me to lock you in a room until this is over, I’m happy to do it.”
“How dare you…?” Zimmer started to respond before Trent stepped between the two.
“Alright, fellas. How about we all take a breather and chill out. I think we could all use a little food and a good stiff drink.”
Cal and Zimmer continued to stare at each other. Brandon was the first to walk out of the room, followed by Trent.
Stokes watched the two men go. He couldn’t wait to be done with Zimmer.
Chapter 33
Las Vegas, Nevada
4:42pm, September 18th
Cal dialed Andy’s cell number.
“Hey, I thought you would’ve called earlier.”
“Yeah, sorry. Had a little unexpected…incident,” Cal explained.
“No problem. You want me to come your way or can you come meet me?”
“Where are they putting you guys up?”
“We’re staying at the MGM Grand.”
“I’ll come see you. Mind if I bring a couple friends?”
“Sure.”
Cal woke Brian, snoozing in the recliner.
“Hey, we’re going to see Andy.” Brian just nodded. “You wanna come too, Daniel?”
“I’m in.”
“Alright, let’s go in five minutes.”
Everyone prepared to leave. They wouldn’t be walking the streets of Vegas unarmed anymore. This time Cal and Brian would be bringing their security badges and concealed carry permits. It was one of the perks of SSI’s VIP protection division.
Cal knew he was running a risk by hitting the street again, but he had to warn Andy. Besides, he had his lucky charm with him: Daniel Briggs. He’d started analyzing how he could best utilize the sniper in the future. Maybe Briggs would become his vigilant companion like Travis Haden to his father and Todd Dunn to Travis. In his line of work, Cal could never have enough expert warriors around.
Five minutes later, the trio walked out the door. Each one hoped they wouldn’t run into more Ichiban goons.
+++
They arrived at the MGM Grand without incident. Instead of trying to take back routes, they’d decided to walk through the most congested public areas. With the Democratic National Convention starting the next day, the sidewalks were overflowing with revelers.
Cal wondered how the convention attendees would feel if they knew about the imminent threat to the big party. It was par for the course and he knew it. Most Americans lived in blissful ignorance knowing nothing about the silent forces of good and evil at work all around them.
Andy opened the hotel room door and invited everyone in. Cal introduced Daniel to the Marine Captain. The two men shook hands and did the Marine size-up.
“Can I get you guys anything?” Andy asked.
“I’d kill for a coffee and a beer,” Cal sighed.
“In that order?”
“How about just the beer?”
Andy nodded and took orders from the other two. Once they’d gotten their drinks and taken a seat, Cal told the whole Vegas story to his good friend.
Capt. Andrews didn’t interrupt; he just shook his head in amazement time and time again. Cal finally finished. “So I really wanted to make sure you got a heads-up. As you can see, there’s some squirrely shit going on around here.”
“That’s the understatement of the year,” Andy commented.
“Have any ideas? Anything we haven’t thought of?”
Andy took another swig of beer and contemplated the question. There were too many possibilities to consider.
“I’m just thinking out loud here, but what if it’s all a wild goose chase? What if they’re throwing you guys red herrings just to keep you away from what they’re really trying to do?”
Cal shook his head. “I don’t think so. This is shaping up to be something big. We really think the Conv
ention is the trigger.”
Andy wasn’t convinced. During his time with the Silent Drill Team, he’d seen the capabilities of the Secret Service and the FBI. They’d probably spent months investigating every scumbag in a twenty-mile radius of Las Vegas. These guys knew how to do their homework. The last thing they wanted on their watch was a dead President. There wouldn’t be a weapon anywhere near the leader of the Free World.
It was Daniel who broke the silence. “Captain, how about anything out of the ordinary? Is there anything they’ve asked you guys to do during your routine that you don’t typically do?”
“Well, most of our routines are pretty similar. Sometimes our entrance is a little different. Like this time, they’re keeping us a secret. You know how they have those big stages for the Super Bowl, where the singer comes up through the floor? Well, they wanted to do that, with a twist.”
“What kind of a twist?” Daniel asked, suddenly feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
“They’ve got this huge trailer that they’re gonna pull out. Think of a semi trailer, only like four times as big. So they put us in there, a cannon booms over the speaker system, the sides of the trailer flip down, we’re standing there ready to kick ass, and then we march out onto the floor. It’s actually pretty cool. We’ve been practicing it for weeks. We’ll have one last run-through tomorrow morning.”
They were all impressed. Twenty-four Marines in dress blues made a beautiful sight. The Silent Drill Team as the surprise entertainment would be a big hit.
“Who’ve you been coordinating that with?” Cal questioned.
“Some woman on the President’s event planning staff.”
“Do you remember her name?”
“Sure. Janet Riley.”
“Why do I know that name?” Cal thought aloud.
“Because she’s on the blackmail list,” Daniel answered.
+++
Janet Riley, a pretty brunette from Los Angeles, pored over the itinerary for the upcoming convention. Taking the reins in the early spring, Riley brought her Hollywood talent and flash to the President’s campaign. Over the past fifteen years, Janet had climbed tooth and nail up the competitive Los Angeles public relations ladder. She’d landed her dream job two years earlier as head of PR for one of the largest studios in L.A. The job included the added benefit of rubbing elbows with some of the biggest influencers in the entertainment industry. During the day she submitted news releases and coordinated publicity for the studio’s biggest stars. By night, she networked with Hollywood elite at movie premiers and after parties. She was very good at her job.
