Presidential Shift: A Political Thriller (Corps Justice Book 4)

by C. G. Cooper

“I think he does, Cal. You heard what he said. Remember how I used to be before our trip to Vegas?”

  Cal knew what the senator meant. Zimmer had been a self-absorbed and naïve politico before being blackmailed by a secret group of Japanese imperialists. He’d experienced a rude awakening in the aftermath.

  “What if this comes back to him? Worse, what if it comes back to you?” asked Cal.

  “I think I’m too new to have many skeletons. Besides, you guys know the worst of it. As for the president, that’s his call. If the trail leads back to him, I think he’ll own up to it.”

  Zimmer noticed the glower on his friend’s face.

  “If he tries to back out of it, I’ll stand with you, Cal. I promise.”

  The two men stared at each other. Finally, Cal rolled his eyes and exhaled.

  “I’ll assume that’s a yes?” asked Brandon.

  “As long as you’re the glue that binds us to the president.”

  They all shook hands and spent five more minutes outlining their plan.

  +++

  The man in the Redskins cap cowered in the corner of the dingy crack house.

  “I did just what you told me to do!” he pleaded. “It’s not my fault she made it.”

  Two men stood over him. One held a large caliber revolver pointed straight at the unfortunate underling.

  “You and your partner said this should’ve been easy. Don’t worry, we’ll be talking to your buddy soon enough. He’s on his way here now.”

  “But…but he won’t be able to tell you anything different. That warhead was made to your exact specifications. It should have killed everyone in the gallery.”

  “Well it didn’t and now I have to tell my boss that someone fucked up. You think I should tell him that I fucked up? I don’t think so.”

  Without warning, he nudged his companion. His associate depressed the trigger and the bullet exited just underneath the Redskins cap a split second later.

  “You want me to put him somewhere?” the man with the gun asked.

  “Just leave him there.”

  The sound of a car pulling into the dirt drive crept into the house.

  “Let’s go take care of the other guy.”

  Chapter 5

  Washington, D.C.

  3:49pm, December 15th

  Before they could leave the White House, an intern found them. The president wanted to see them before they left town.

  “I have a car waiting for you, gentlemen. It will take you over to the hospital.”

  Cal looked at Daniel resignedly.

  “Lead on,” said Cal.

  They were both surprised to see a four vehicle motorcade waiting for them.

  “I thought you said a car was waiting for us.”

  “This’ll get you through the traffic,” said the intern, who then turned and headed back into the White House.

  +++

  They arrived at MedStar Washington Hospital Center soon after. The Marines followed their new security detail through the various checkpoints manned by Secret Service and Marine sentries.

  “You ever seen anything like this?” Cal muttered to Daniel.

  “No way.”

  There were no less than thirty security personnel on the floor holding the first lady. The president was alone with his wife as they walked in. He looked up from the conversation.

  “Cal, Daniel, you haven’t met the first lady, have you?” His eyes were just barely tinged with red. Minus the loosened tie, he still looked the power part.

  “No, sir,” answered Cal. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

  “Are these the gentlemen you have helping you with your little project, honey?” The first lady’s face looked drawn, and yet her eyes still burned with confidence.

  The president nodded. “I figured unleashing a couple Marines might do some much needed feather-ruffling.”

  “Thank you for coming,” she told Cal and Daniel. “Now if you’ll please excuse me, I think I need to take a little nap.”

  “I’ll be out in a minute, guys,” said the president.

  Cal and Daniel stepped out of room and waited patiently for the Commander in Chief to emerge. It didn’t take more than a minute before he stepped out.

  Motioning to the two friends, he guided them to another patient room that was empty. Daniel closed the door behind them.

  “What did you find?” The president asked.

  Cal relayed the same information they’d given Senator Zimmer. The president grimaced.

  “You really think it’s possible for someone to sneak a warhead into the most controlled airspace we have?”

  “That’s what we think, sir,” replied Cal. “I’m sure the Secret Service is keeping you in the loop. They’ll know for certain soon.”

  Nodding, the president paced the length of the room.

  “This doesn’t change what we talked about this morning, gentlemen. I was dead serious about exposing the crooks in this town.”

  “I understand, Mr. President. I’ve got our people digging as we speak. Have you thought about how you’re going to handle the politicians we uncover?”

  “I promised you that I’m all-in. Once they’re exposed, the law will do the rest.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Is there anything you need from me?” asked the president.

  “I think we’ve got everything we need. One last thing, sir. I don’t think we should be seen with you from here on out. You’re already taking a chance of having this land in your lap. I don’t want to give the enemy any more ammunition.”

  “How will I know if your investigation is progressing?”

  Cal smirked. “Just keep checking the news, sir.”

  +++

  Two men left the dilapidated tenement through the back door. As if on cue, a muffled boom sounded and a fire quickly engulfed the house. The multiple incendiary devices they’d installed were doing their job well. It would take the authorities a while to identify the bodies inside. That was if they even took the time to do DNA testing on the deceased. What was two more dead bodies in a crack house?

  Chapter 6

  SSI Headquarters II,

  Camp Cavalier,

  Charlottesville, VA

  6:32am, December 16th

  Cal and Daniel had driven back to Charlottesville the night before. They could’ve flown in one of SSI’s private jets, but Cal wanted the time in the car to think.

  They woke early and headed to Neil Patel’s office to see what kind of progress the computer genius had made.

  The Marines found their friend scrolling and clicking through gibberish-looking computer screens. Neil looked up from his work as they entered.

  “I was wondering when you two would be visiting me. Did you bring any coffee?”

  Cal held up a large to-go coffee mug he’d grabbed from the compound’s mess hall.

  “Three creams and four sugars. I don’t know how you drink that, Neil.”

  “What can I say? I like it sweet.”

  Neil shifted around in his chair to grab the coffee.

  “How’s the leg doing?” asked Daniel, pointing down to Neil’s prosthetic limb.

  “Better now. I think this last adjustment did it.” Neil sipped his coffee and swiveled back to his terminals. “I’ve got something for you, Cal.”

  Cal looked over his friends shoulder eagerly. “What did you find?”

  Neil laughed. “This was almost too easy. Hacking into politicians’ email accounts was a snap. I’ve got some juicy stuff and I’ll probably have audio and video soon too.”

  “How the hell are you getting audio and video?”

  “A couple ways. You’d be surprised how many of these people record their conversations. They’re probably thinking about using them as insurance in case things go south with their contacts. Unfortunately for them, if they’re accessed, we can use it against them. The way I’m getting video is through public and private security cameras. My facial recognition software does all the he
avy lifting. It’s already picked up some good clips. The hard part will be sifting through all the incoming data. Any thoughts on how you want me to prioritize?”

  “Let’s start with the top down,” Cal suggested. “Maybe we’ll be able to kill two birds with one stone. Target the president’s top advisers and aides first. I’m sure that’ll branch off soon enough.”

  Neil entered a few lines of code, and then looked up again. “I should have a couple dossiers soon.”

  +++

  Their next stop was to see Cal’s cousin and CEO of SSI Travis Haden. Cal knocked once and entered Travis’s office. The former SEAL was on the phone with his bare feet propped up on the desk. He wore a sweat-drenched olive drab t-shirt that accentuated his bulging muscles. Travis motioned for the two Marines to have a seat.

  “That’s right. I’ll pick you up at seven.” Travis hung up the phone and swung his feet off the desk.

  “Another one of your girlfriends, Trav?” Cal asked.

  His cousin ignored the comment, used to the ribbing. “How was your trip?”

  Cal ran through the highlights of the previous day’s excursion.

  “I assume Neil’s already digging?” asked Travis once the recitation ended.

  “He is. We’re meeting for lunch to go over what he’s got so far.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  “The same as usual. Give me anything I want.” Cal grinned.

  Travis didn’t reciprocate the look. Instead, he looked over at the sniper everyone called Snake Eyes.

  “Daniel, can you give us a minute?”

  Daniel started to get up out of his seat.

  “Oh great! I’m in trouble now. Cousin Travis is gonna give me a scolding. Stay here, Daniel. I think I know where this is going.”

  Daniel looked between the two men. Technically they were both his bosses. In any other place Daniel might have left, but at SSI things were different. Here, Daniel was an equal and highly valued part of the team. When he spoke, people listened. Besides, he’d pledged himself to Cal months before. Daniel sat back down in his chair. Travis shrugged.

  “Fine. It’s probably better that you stay anyway.” Travis opened a drawer and pulled out a blue folder a half inch thick. He laid it on the desk. “I need to talk to you about the last couple months. Now, I’m not saying…”

  Cal huffed and said, “Just spit it out. I’m a big boy, remember?”

  “Okay. Some of us are a little concerned about the number of operations you’ve been on recently.”

  “Who’s we?”

  “Me, Dunn and Marge.”

  “Not Doc Higgins?” Dr. Higgins was SSI’s resident psychologist and expert interrogator. If you wanted to delve into a man’s mind or carve out information, there were none better that Higgins.

  “Not Higgins.”

  “Huh. That’s funny. I would’ve thought that if someone was worried about me killing a bunch of bad guys it would be our shrink.”

  “I can’t say I’m not surprised, but when I asked Doc about it, he told me that you know your limits.”

  “I do.”

  “So am I allowed to ask you about your targets?”

  “I CC you on everything I greenlight.”

  “How about this guy you took out yesterday? Mans…”

  “Mansoor Abbas, also went by Mansoor Daher, Manny Halabi and a few other names. Friend of Hezbollah, al Qaeda and some other upstart terrorist organizations. Had ties to terrorist funding coming from Saudi Arabia, India and Pakistan. Neil’s team positively identified him as the middle man in over two hundred transactions. Most recently he was promoted to operations and was about to supervise his first attack here in the U.S.”

  “What was your rationale for killing him in a public park?”

  Cal shrugged. “I wanted to send a message.”

  “You seem to be all about sending messages these days.”

  “What can I say? Me and Snake Eyes are pretty good.”

  Travis’s eyes narrowed. “This isn’t a game, Cal.”

  “Don’t you think I know that? You gave me this job to take out bad guys. That’s what I’m doing.”

  “I’m not saying you’re not.”

  “Then what’s your point?” flared Cal.

  “I’m not the only one that thinks you might have lingering thoughts about Wyoming.”

  Cal breathed in and out slowly, willing himself to calm down. The previous October, he’d lost men, including one of his best friends, Brian Ramirez, in an operation to rescue Neil Patel. Cal had watched as a massive explosion ripped through his team. He’d later exacted revenge on the mastermind of the kidnapping, Nick Ponder.

  Daniel broke the awkward silence. “I’ve been with Cal for every one of these takedowns, and although he sometimes likes to exhibit a little…flair, I can honestly say that he is never reckless.”

  “See?” said Cal.

  “All right. You know I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t care. As your cousin I want to make sure you’re okay. As your boss, I want to make sure you’re not doing anything that could compromise the company.”

  “Don’t worry. I know my limits. Besides, Daniel’s the best babysitter around.”

  Travis finally laughed. “Okay. Enough of that.” He slid the folder back in the drawer. “Back to the president. Will this be strictly a digital operation or do you need boots on the ground?”

  “For now all I need is Neil and the two of us. I thought Daniel and I could take a trip and shadow the president on the road. It might give us a better idea of who the leak might be.”

  “Just keep me in the loop.”

  “No problem.”

  +++

  After checking in with his secretary, Cal headed outside. “How about we head over and say hello to Top?” asked Cal.

  Top was Marine Master Sergeant Willy Trent, a close friend of Cal’s and lead hand-to-hand combat instructor at SSI. Not only was he huge, at just under seven feet in height, the outgoing black Marine was also an accomplished chef. Top Trent was someone you always wanted on your side.

  Minutes later they entered SSI’s gym facility. They passed through the professional grade free weights area and snuck into the observation room. Through the plate glass window a group of six SSI operators lined up against the far wall. Trent was in the middle of the wrestling mat demonstrating a grappling move on a seventh trainee. Cal and Daniel watched as he effortlessly tossed the man over his shoulder and guided him onto the mat. The quickness of the move surprised the trainee and made Cal smile.

  Trent looked up and noticed Cal at the window. He waved and motioned for his friend to come join the fun.

  A minute later, the big Marine was introducing Cal and Daniel to the new guys. There were curt nods and handshakes all around. Each man casually sized up the owner of SSI. Cal was used to it and kept the chit chat to a minimum. There would be time to bond with these men after they’d been better indoctrinated into the company. They were all experienced operators from each of the military branches. Unbeknownst to the warriors, Cal had approved each and every man before they’d been offered a position at SSI.

  “Why don’t you guys practice that toss and roll while I’m gone,” said Trent. “I’ve gotta talk to the boss.”

  The operators paired up as Cal, Daniel and Trent left the sparring room and headed to one of the small offices down the adjoining hallway. It took Cal five minutes to bring Trent up to speed on what had happened in D.C. Top sipped on an oversized bottle of Powerade Zero as he listened.

  Trent had been part of every major operation Cal led at SSI. Despite their differences in size and background, deep trust and respect cemented their relationship. Much like his close connection with Daniel, Cal’s friendship with Trent had developed quickly. It was the Marine way when a fellow Jarhead saved your life. That had happened on multiple occasions in the past year and a half.

  “How can I help?” asked Trent in his deep boom, once Cal finished with the debrief.

  “Neil’
s handling the political investigation, so I think we’re good there. As far as the attack on the vice president and first lady, I’m not sure yet. Figured something will probably break in the Secret Service’s case. The president promised to keep us in the loop.”

  “You have a team on standby?”

  “We were heading over to see Gaucho after talking to you.”

  Gaucho was one of SSI’s most battle-hardened team leaders. A short Mexican and former Delta operator, Gaucho won the award for most eccentric man at SSI. He wore his long beard tightly braided in twin strands. Anyone who underestimated the squat soldier soon found out that the Hispanic hard-ass was smart and ruthless.

  “Why don’t I come with you? I haven’t seen my little Mexican in a couple days,” said Trent. Gaucho and Trent were two of the biggest pranksters at SSI. More often than not, their pranks targeted or involved the other.

  Cal checked with the company switchboard and found out that Gaucho and his team had the urban assault house booked for the day. Trent dismissed his sweat soaked pupils and the three Marines hopped in Trent’s jacked up Ford 350. It was a short drive on well-worn dirt trails. Trent pumped the latest country chart topper as they drove.

  Ten minutes later, the rhythmic staccato of machine gun fire welcomed them as they approached the isolated training facility on the fringe of the compound. There was a red flag hanging flaccidly from a metal pole outside the building to indicate that the area was ‘hot.’ Trent turned down the radio and shut off the engine.

  “Nothin’ I like better than the sound of machine gun fire in the morning,” said Trent as he stepped out and stretched his large frame in the crisp morning air.

  As Cal led the way to the two-story structure, a voice came over the loudspeaker.

  “Cease fire, cease fire.”

  The machine gun fire had already stopped, but it was customary for the range officer to make the announcement just as they would have done on any American military base around the world. SSI’s founder, Marine Colonel Calvin Stokes, had insisted as much, and the rules still stood.

  Masked and clad in black, SSI operators streamed out of the first floor entrance. Gaucho was easy to spot as the shortest of the bunch. He waved to Cal and motioned that he’d be over in a minute.