Council of Patriots (The Corps Justice Series Marine Corps Fiction)

by C. G. Cooper

  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 Travis 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.

  Travis smiled. “If I’d told you who it was and what they wanted, you would’ve figured out some way not to make it back. This way we both win.”

  “How do I win?”

  “You get your first action with the Council. It’s great that I’ve vouched for you, but until you prove yourself, they won’t know what to do with us.”

  “But I thought we were in tight with these guys.”

  Travis walked over to his desk as he explained. “We’ve had contact with the Council off and on for last few years. The problem is that we never had anyone dedicated to utilizing their intel. I was their contact, but I also had to run SSI. It pulled me thin. Now that we’ve got you, we can put some muscle behind it.”

  “So what’s my guidance going forward?”

  “I’m not gonna hold your hand or look over your shoulder, Cal. In this case, I want to push you. Take a look at the file we’ve started compiling. I think you’ll find some interesting tidbits about the Vegas underground. Plus, I completely agree with the Senator. Despite Congressman Zimmer’s past, the whole bloody murder scenario isn’t his M.O. He’s being set up for something.”

  Cal realized he’d allowed his emotions to cloud his objectivity. Maybe Travis was right. Maybe there was something to the story.

  “Okay. I’ll handle it.”

  “Alright. Why don’t you head down to Intel and see if you can’t dig up anything else. In the meantime, come up with a team and a plan. Let me know if you need something special.”

  Cal walked out of Travis’s office and headed to his personal cubicle. They’d offered him his father’s office but he’d declined. The old man’s office was more of a shrine now. Besides, Cal enjoyed the thought of working his way up the ladder and being with his troops.

  The first thing he needed to do was pick his A-team. Then it was off to Sin City.

  Chapter 8

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  2:48am, September 16th

  The workmen loaded the large packages into the nearly full semis. They were all getting paid hefty overtime for working through the night. It was almost three in the morning but the boxes weren’t particularly heavy. There were just a lot of them. The only pain for the crew was dealing with the quiet little Japanese guy and his big Russian friend.

  T
he smaller Asian man was obviously in charge. He gave clipped orders and maintained an intense vigil over the loading process. The large Russian looked bored as he gazed lazily around the small truck terminal. He hadn’t made a sound except for the occasionally spit of phlegm over the metal railing.

  “Hey boss, how much longer we got?”

  Max Unger looked back at his worker. “Until we get all these trailers loaded, shithead. Now shut up and go back to work.”

  The worker grumbled and headed back to the smallest stack of packages. Max stole a look at the man who’d offered a tidy sum if the shipment could be processed in one night. Unger had almost refused, but the enticement of so much cash won him over. Even as he was anticipating his payday, Max Unger couldn’t shake the feeling of unease as he loaded yet another stamped cardboard box. What the hell is in these boxes?

  Chapter 9

  Camp Spartan, Arrington, Tennessee

  7:37am, September 16th

  It took Cal two days to piece together an initial plan of attack and gather his team. He’d recalled Neil Patel and MSgt Trent from Turks. The other members of the advance team included his good friend and former Navy Corpsman Brian Ramirez. Brian was currently heading-up the battle-med research team inside Patel’s R&D department. SSI focused heavily on new development not only to make money, but also to better support American troops serving around the globe.

  Cal figured that the first thing to do was take a look around Vegas and see what cropped up. Dumb luck just might expose Zimmer’s enemies without much effort.

  The small team chatted quietly as Cal gathered his notes. He finally looked up. “You guys have a good trip back?”

  “First Class is always nice when I’m not the one paying for it,” Willy joked in his booming voice.

  “Top told me all about your little competition at the tiki bar, Cal,” Brian interrupted grinning. “I knew you were a dumb grunt, but waking the sleeping giant…”

  Cal raised his hands in defeat. “I know, I know. I’ll never live that one down. Let me run you through what we’ve got.”

  Cal recounted the Congressman’s story. He also outlined Zimmer’s past and what he’d been able to dig up about Ishi Nakamura, which wasn’t much. Eyebrows were raised, but they waited for Cal to finish before asking questions.

  “So the first thing we need to do is link Top up with Congressman Zimmer. You’ll be tapped as his new bodyguard. We’ve already floated the story of some weirdo sending Zimmer some threatening letters. Now, Top, this guy might end up being a royal pain in the ass, but I need you to stick close to him,” Cal instructed. “Neil, I’ll need you to be around for technical support. Bring anything you think you might need. Brian and I will be posing as tourists. We’ll take in the sights and do a little gambling. I want to see if we can weed out anyone following Zimmer. Any questions?”

  Brian spoke up first. “Why only four of us? Don’t you think we might need some more manpower?”

  Cal shook his head. “This is just our initial reconnaissance. I don’t want whoever’s framing Zimmer to know we’re there. The smaller the team, the less likely it’ll be that we get spotted.”

  “You want me to do some more background on this Ishi guy?” Neil asked.

  “Yeah. I couldn’t find much. Seemed pretty normal on paper. His parents came over from Japan when he was a kid. Grew up in San Francisco. Did well in school. Met Zimmer at Harvard. A few jobs and internships here and there. Typical post-college stuff. I really want to know more about this company he works for.”

  “I’ll get on it,” Neil answered as he turned his attention to the mini-laptop perched on his knees.

  Cal knew that if anybody could penetrate an organization with technology, it was Neil Patel. The certified genius wasn’t just a whiz with gadgets, he was also a world-class hacker.

  “Top, we’ll fly you out to D.C. tomorrow. You can link up with the Congressman and then fly out to Vegas with him. Anything else?”

  No one had anything to add. Everyone was already mentally coming up with their own game plan for the operation. Cal knew better than to get in their way. They were all proven operators. Even Neil was a warrior in his own way. All they needed was a quick snapshot. The rest would evolve once they got to Las Vegas.

  Chapter 10

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  7:52am, September 16th

  “What is the status of the shipment?”

  “The packages are ready and each truck is awaiting my order to depart.”

  “Do you expect the packages to be delivered by the time we requested?”

  “Yes. We have allowed extra time in case of weather or some other unforeseen circumstance.”

  “Good. Then you may proceed with the delivery.”

  The older man’s assistant bowed respectfully and exited the palatial suite. The master took another drag from his cigarette and gazed out at the desert landscape. Soon America would feel the pain and humiliation he’d long planned.

  Chapter 11

  Falls Church, VA

  1:46pm, September 16th

  MSgt Willy Trent stepped out of the taxi and paid the driver. It’d been an easy ride over from Reagan National. It still amazed him how close the nation’s capital looked as you landed. You could see everything.

  Unfortunately, this wouldn’t be a tourist stop. His orders were clear: keep eyes-on Congressman Brandon Zimmer, 24/7.

  He strolled up to the modest home and quickly scanned the finely manicured lawn. Access to the property looked easy. No obvious security. Strange. He’d have to change that.

  Trent knocked and waited patiently for the door to open. He was surprised when Congressman Zimmer opened the door. No interior security either?

  The good-looking congressman smiled and reached out his hand. “You must be Master Sergeant Trent.”

  “Yes, sir. Although most people call me Willy or Top.”

  “Top’s the nickname you Marines call Master Sergeants, right?” Zimmer asked still smiling congenially.

  “Only the ones they like, sir,” Trent smiled back.

  “Well, come on in. I’ll give you a quick tour of the place and then you can fill me in on your team’s plan.” Zimmer ushered Willy in through the door and led the way to the back of the house, highlighting the layout as they went. The hallway opened up to a large great room that overlooked Lake Barcroft. Trent could see a couple families enjoying the early fall weather on their pontoon boats. He wondered quietly whether there was any security on the sprawling back lawn either.

  “Can I get you anything, Top?”

  “No thank you, sir. Maybe we should go over your itinerary.”

  Zimmer’s smile slipped for a split-second, but was replaced quickly. Trent noticed. Obviously this guy isn’t used to being on someone else’s schedule.

  “Why not? Tell me what you guys have come up with.” Zimmer walked over to the closest armchair and took a seat.

  Maybe this guy ain’t as bad as Cal thinks. We’ll see.

  “First, sir, my orders are pretty clear. I’m supposed to be with you 24/7. No exceptions.”

  To Zimmer’s credit, not even the faintest hint of anger crossed his face. “I understand, Top. I assume you already know the whole story?”

  Trent nodded.

  “Then you know I’m not really in a position to fight this. You guys are doing me a favor and I really do appreciate it. Democrat or not, I’m no idiot.”

  “No disrespect intended, sir. I’ve just always found that it’s better to the clear the air and manage expectations in the beginning.”

  Willy looked to Zimmer for questions but none came. “So to start I wanted to ask you some questions about your property here.”

  Trent grilled Zimmer for close to an hour. He quickly found that the security in the rented residence was decent but still lacking, despite the Las Vegas episode. The only things in place were a monitoring system supplied by a local vendor and a panic number provided to all incoming members of the House of Repre
sentatives.

  It was clearly evident that the freshman representative was somewhat naïve about personal protection and surveillance. It wasn’t unusual for unknown Congressmen to drive their own cars, but Willy got the distinct feeling that prior to the Vegas incident, Zimmer almost felt untouchable. Zimmer explained that he’d clearly been instructed by Ishi not to increase any security after the girl’s murder. Brandon wasn’t stupid. He knew the lack of security meant easy access for his blackmailers.

  “Have you noticed anyone following you, anything strange?”

  “Are you kidding? I see shadows everywhere now. I’d started to think I was really losing my grip on reality,” Zimmer answered in a tone colored with panic.

  “That’s why I’m here, Congressman. I’ll need to do some upgrades to your system here, but we’ll do that through SSI, so whoever’s watching you won’t know. The next part of the plan is to take a little trip to Vegas. Cal wants to see if we can’t get these rats out of their nest.”

  Brandon didn’t want to go anywhere near Las Vegas. “No way! The minute I step into that place they’ll be all over me. They’ve already had me back for a couple of mandatory meetings. Every time I feel like I’m the fish in the fishbowl. I’m surrounded and subtlety reminded of where I stand. I can’t handle it!”

  Willy shouldn’t have been surprised by the outburst, but he was. He’d have to tread carefully on this one.

  “Sir, as long as I’m with you, nothing will happen. Besides, we’ll keep the visit as public as we can.”

  Zimmer wouldn’t be mollified. “They’ll see right through it. Why would I want to go out there anyway?”

  “Cal’s cooked up a story that we’re floating out to the media. We’ve got contacts with prominent casino owners who are big political donors. One of them has a local job placement charity for disabled vets. He’d love for you to come out and help publicize it.”

  “What!? Those guys are all Republicans! I’ll look like an idiot! I need to call my father on this before…”