by C. G. Cooper
Because of the fact that the enemy somehow knew their location, Cal had a dilemma. What they needed to do was move Neil and all his equipment. The problem was that they needed it up and running.
Instead of relocating, Cal instructed Gaucho to pull his troops back to the suite and secure it completely. Barring a cruise missile, the suite would be untouchable.
On a whim, Cal decided to bring Briggs along. The guy knew the city and the best way to navigate it. There was a reason he was a “scout” sniper.
The two Marines set off for the meeting with Waller. Rather than follow the outdoor walkways, Briggs cut a path through the casinos. It was possible to travel through much of The Strip without even stepping outside.
Cal casually swept his gaze as he’d learned in Todd Dunn’s challenging counter-surveillance course. He couldn’t detect any tails. Daniel pressed on.
The pair finally reached the small room that Neil had just reserved at the Treasure Island Resort and Casino. They wouldn’t need it for long, which was good. Waller had come with minimal security and in a casual disguise. Luckily, ex-Presidents weren’t highly important targets or his Secret Service staff might have denied the last minute request.
Cal nodded to the large man in jeans standing outside the door.
“Sorry, sir. I was instructed to only let you in,” the agent said.
Cal looked at Daniel. “Do you mind waiting out here?”
“Nope. See you in a minute.”
Cal opened the door and approached the next agent, who quickly frisked him. He pointed to Cal’s wrist that had his knife strapped to it. Just as the agent went to make a comment, Waller came out of the bathroom.
“He’s fine, Jimmy. Why don’t you wait outside?”
The agent looked like he was about to object, but instead nodded and stepped out.
“So, what are we dealing with here, Cal?”
Cal pulled his backpack off, extracted the manila envelope, and handed it to Waller.
Sitting down at the coffee table, President Waller took out the evidence and spread it out. His left eyebrow arched as he quickly perused the collection.
“Somebody’s been doing their homework, haven’t they?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you guys have any idea who might be behind this?”
“I’m new at this whole thing, Mr. President. I don’t know who you’ve had contact with in the past. My concern is that some of your security detail could be the issue.”
Waller stared at Cal for a moment. “I really hate to think about that, Cal. How realistic could it be?”
Cal had thought about it on the way over. “The way I see it, Mr. President…”
“Come on, Cal, it’s Hank in here, remember?”
“Yes, sir. Sorry, Hank. Anyway, it is possible that someone could have taken these pictures and gotten audio from a long way off. The problem is, how did someone know where to look? I’m assuming whenever the Council meets, the number of people that know the itinerary is minimal?”
Waller nodded.
“Well then, there has to be someone on the inside.”
Waller stood up and walked to the window. “You know how bad this pisses me off? It reminds me of all the times Trav warned us about OpSec. He kept telling us that at some point someone would figure things out. How bad do you think this is?”
“I made a secure call to Trav before coming over. They’re running some scenarios,” answered Cal, unsure of what else the President wanted him to say.
“I want YOUR opinion, Cal. Does this kill us?”
“You really want my opinion?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. I figure we have two options: One, pack up, head home, and let the Zimmers deal with their own mess.”
“You know that’s not what…”
“Hold on, sir. Let me finish.”
“Sorry. Go ahead.”
“Second, we can find the leak and plug it.”
“And how do you propose we do that?”
“It’ll be risky, but I think the rat is about to surface. The other thing I wanted to tell you was that we honestly believe there is going to be some kind of attack or demonstration during the Democratic Convention.”
Waller’s eyes went wide. “What? How is that even possible? I’ve been to these things for years. I’m sure the Secret Service has buttoned up the city pretty tight.”
“A week ago, I would’ve agreed with you. But after what I’ve seen here, I’m not so sure. Hell, these guys found us and, more importantly, figured out about the most secretive group outside of the U.S. government. They’ve got resources and they aren’t afraid to use them.”
“So, what’s the next step? Should we alert the Secret Service?”
Cal knew he was taking a risk, but he had confidence in his team. “I think we should see how it plays out. Let’s say we give the Secret Service an anonymous tip that’ll hopefully get them even more attentive. Meanwhile, me and my team find these fuckers and take them out.”
Waller looked at the young man. If he felt any doubt, he didn’t show it. “Travis was right.”
“What do you mean?”
“We need more Marines in this world.”
+++
Cal and Waller ironed out a few more details. The ex-President would alert the rest of the Council and have them start thinking about potential leaks. Even though he wasn’t close to the current President, Waller still had duties to perform for his Party. Over the next couple days, he would be called upon to attend to the Convention. It would keep him busy, but they agreed to stay in close contact.
Daniel and Cal left the meeting room and headed back. Thinking to himself, Cal barely noticed the passing landscape. He grabbed his phone and dialed Neil.
“Yeah.”
“Tell me you’ve got something, Neil.”
“You’re not gonna believe this shit. They’ve got…”
“Hold on. Don’t say anything on this line. We’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Okay. I’ll have a brief waiting for you.”
Looking down to replace his phone in his pocket, Cal almost ran right into Briggs. Daniel had casually stopped at a slot machine and placed a quarter in the slot.
“What are you…?”
“Don’t look up,” Daniel interrupted.
Cal did as told and glanced down at the game. “What’s going on?” he whispered.
“Looks like those goons found us again. Three o’clock. I saw at least two of ‘em. I’ll bet there’s more,” Daniel answered casually.
“How the hell did they find us?”
Briggs answered with a shrug. If he was concerned, he sure as hell didn’t show it.
“What’s our next move?” Cal asked.
“I’ve got a Marine buddy that works on the security team here at Treasure Island. Let me call his cell phone and see if he can get those fuckers off our tail.”
Daniel continued to feed quarters into the slot machine as he pulled out his phone and dialed a number.
“Hey, Rick. I’ve got a favor to ask. You working right now?”
“Yeah, man. What’s up?”
“You know those Russian goons that work over at Zeitaku?”
“Ivan Drago lookin’ motherfuckers?”
“Yeah. They’re in your casino right now and they want to put their hands on me and my friend. Anything you can do to help?”
Daniel could hear Rick already moving through the casino. “I’m on it, brother. Where are they?”
Briggs told him where they were and hung up.
“So who was that guy?” Cal asked.
“Rick was a grunt in my first battalion. Helluva squad leader. Saved his ass a couple times.”
Cal’s respect for the sniper kept growing. He might be a good friend to keep around.
Two minutes later, Cal heard a commotion. He turned to see a group of ten security guards surrounding the hulking Russians.
“I don’t know why you bother me. I her
e to spend money!” the Russian leader bellowed.
“I’m sorry, sir, but we’ve received complaints that you’ve been harassing some of our customers,” the head guard informed respectfully. “I’ll need you to leave at once, sir.”
“I no bother no one, jarhead!” the giant snarled. “Maybe I bother you, instead.”
Rick, the former Marine, looked around at his nine guards near the three Russians. “You’re more than welcome to try, sir, but I’m not so sure about your odds.”
The huge man looked around and weighed his options. His instructions were clear: find Cal Stokes and kill him. It had been one of Ichiban’s hookers that had spotted Stokes one casino back and alerted the team. The fact that the man was within earshot only angered the thug further.
“You hear from me again soon, jarhead. We go now.”
Rick nodded and motioned for the other guards to escort the trio out. As they moved to the exit, he turned around and headed over to Daniel and Cal.
“Hey, brother. How goes it?” he asked, as he shook Daniel’s hand.
“Good, man. Hey, I want you to meet a buddy of mine. Rick, this is Cal.”
The two men sized each other up, as only Marines can do, and shook hands.
“Thanks for your help,” Cal offered.
“Not a problem. I owe Snake Eyes a couple of favors.”
“Snake Eyes?” Cal asked curiously.
“It was my call-sign on patrol,” Briggs explained. “While I was in Afghanistan, my mom sent me the whole G.I. Joe DVD cartoon collection. Snake Eyes was always my favorite character and some of the other Marines found out about it and the nickname stuck.”
Rick laughed. “Yeah. Dude would come back from an op and sit there and watch those fucking cartoons over and over.”
Cal joined in the laughter. “I remember those. I guess the name fits for a sniper.”
Briggs nodded. “Thanks again for the help, but we’ve gotta go.”
“No problem, man. Stay in touch, okay? By the way, I like the new look!” He pointed at Daniel’s ponytail and hairless chin. Briggs smiled and they all said their goodbyes.
“How close are we?” Cal asked his partner as they descended another set of escalators.
“Not far. About five minutes.”
They walked out a back service exit and into an alleyway. Neither Marine saw the small Japanese man, requisite tourist camera slung around his neck, casually looking their way.
+++
“He found them, Father,” Ishi informed.
“Good.”
“What are his orders?”
“Tell him to kill them, quietly.”
Ishi texted the command into his phone: TAKE OUT THE GARBAGE, QUIETLY
+++
The Japanese assassin read the text and smiled inwardly. It had been too long since he’d used his skills. Kenji Matsura looked completely harmless. Dressed in a pair of old pleated pants, checkered shirt, and thick glasses, Matsura looked like one of a thousand Japanese tourists wandering the streets of Las Vegas.
His deadly abilities were hidden by his almost feminine. Born into a family of warriors, Kenji Matsura was what some might call a modern day ninja. An expert in four types of martial arts, he was also a veteran of the Japanese Defense Force. Most people didn’t know much about the Japanese military. This was mainly due to the fact that after World War II part of the peace treaty declared that the Japanese people could no longer field an army. In recent years, the treaty’s provisions had relaxed and Japan had even sent troops to help in the Middle East.
Matsura was part of the first unit sent. Unbeknownst to the public, a group of Japanese military officers had formed an ultra-secretive commando unit within the Defense Force: Unit 47. Through his amazing ability and family connections within the military (certain military officers were privy to portions of the plot orchestrated by Nakamura), Kenji Matsura was assigned to Unit 47.
It was in Iraq where Matsura finally utilized his skills. He was given free reign to track down and kill insurgents and suspected terrorists. His results overshadowed his ruthless tactics. Matsura often worked alone and slaughtered whole families. He’d finally been reined in and sent home.
No matter, Matsura thought. He’d been trained by the Army and battle tested in the desert, but it was Kazuo Nakamura who’d become his true master. Like a brilliant general, Nakamura had recognized Matsura’s abilities and put them to frequent use. Many former rivals now called the cemetery their home, thanks to Nakamura’s scheming and Matsura’s death dealing.
He’d been warned about the prowess of Cal Stokes. It didn’t bother Matsura one bit. Other great warriors had tried to kill him before. He’d slaughtered them all. It was time to put another notch on his sword.
+++
Daniel sensed the approaching danger a split second before it happened. They’d just entered the rear entrance to the pool deck of the Bellagio, music blaring and bumping from the poolside DJ booth, when he grabbed Cal and threw him into the bushes.
The suppressed pistol round grazed Daniel’s chest as he spun around for cover. He reached for his concealed pistol as he fell.
+++
Matsura couldn’t believe he’d missed. He’d had Stokes in his sights, been completely quiet and concealed, yet the man with the blonde ponytail had sensed his presence. The assassin wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
+++
Cal glanced at Briggs from behind a short wall. Daniel pointed to where the shot came from and he nodded. Why had he not brought his pistol? As if reading his mind, Briggs showed Cal a second pistol. The Marines were about twenty feet apart, but at least they might have a chance of each sporting a weapon. Cal peaked out cautiously and heard a shot fired in response. He quickly whipped back and the bullet hit exactly where his head had just been.
This guy was good. What to do now? Cal texted the team: ONE MAN SHOTS FIRED BY THE HOTEL POOL SEND HELP
Hopefully, Gaucho would understand his text.
+++
Daniel took a steadying breath and said a quick prayer. He’d been in similar situations before. It almost always came down to decisiveness, daring, and a little bit of luck. Briggs counted down the seconds as he watched the assassin move closer.
+++
Matsura now had two suppressed pistols, one in each hand. He was an expert with both hands. Keeping his weapons pointed at their respective targets, he stalked forward. Two kills in a day was a walk in the park for the warrior.
+++
Gaucho and Neil looked down at their phones at the same time. “Shit!” The room full of operators looked up. “I need four of you right now. Weapons concealed. We’re going down to the pool.”
The five men sprinted out of the suite, past their surprised sentries, and into the stairwell. Gaucho hoped they’d make it in time.
+++
Briggs made his move, diving out from cover, low to the ground, facing his attacker. There was maybe fifteen feet between the two men. Matsura was faster, his two rounds on a perfect collision course with Daniel’s chest as the Marine’s double-tap went off a split second too late.
+++
Matsura smiled as the bullets hit their target. He felt two stings on his shirt. Had he been shot? Looking down quickly, his eyes squinted in confusion. Instead of seeping blood, he saw two yellow paint splatters.
Just as he turned to find his second target, he realized his folly. The blonde man’s dive had been a diversion. He’d sacrificed himself so that Stokes could flank the assassin. The Japanese killer had walked too close. He should have stayed back. During the quick exchange, Cal had taken advantage of Daniel’s diversion and crept forward behind the tall privacy bushes.
He sprang up from his squatting position, knife leading the way. The blade went into the assassins left ear to the hilt. The Marine twisted the blade as the man struggled for a moment, and then folded to the ground.
After quickly making sure the man was dead and taking his two suppressed weapons, Cal
ran to his fallen friend.
+++
Gaucho’s men rushed out onto the pool deck just as the muffled shots went off. The guests looked at them in confusion, most too absorbed in their drinks and the loud music to notice the commotion. The SSI team rushed to the source of the shots.
+++
Cal bent down to his new friend. Daniel had signaled what he’d wanted to do, but Cal had shaken his head. This wasn’t the sniper’s fight. He’d seen the rounds hit. He could only hope that his injuries weren’t fatal.
Cal rolled Daniel over and noticed that the wounded man was clutching his stomach. He looked up at Cal. “Did you get him?”
“Yeah. Don’t move. We need to get you to the hospital.”
“For what?” It was obvious the sniper was trying to catch his breath. They had to get him out of there soon.
“You got shot, man. Don’t move. My guys should be here in a second.”
As if on cue, the five team members spotted them and hopped over the fence. Gaucho reached the pair first. “He shot?”
Cal nodded. He then pointed to the Asian assassin. “We need to get that body out of here. Can your boys take care of it?”
Gaucho nodded and barked quick orders over the booming music.
Cal started peeling off Daniel’s shirt so he could find the entry wounds. When he did one of the bullets rolled off of the sniper’s Kevlar covered chest. Cal looked down in confusion.
Daniel gasped as he explained. “I was trying...to…tell you. It just hurts…like a…sonofabitch.”
“You lucky fucker,” laughed the short Hispanic, shaking his head.
“Wait,” Cal stopped, “I didn’t hear your pistol shots go off.”
Daniel smiled. “These are…paintball…guns.” He handed one to his friend.
