by C. G. Cooper
Cal took the cranberry juice from the stewardess. “Thanks.”
The pretty blonde looked down at him. “Not a problem, sir. Please let me know if you need anything else.” Her gaze lingered for a second and then she moved on to serve other passengers.
“I think she likes you, brother,” Brian Ramirez teased from beside Cal.
“Not my type, Doc.”
“You haven’t had a type for a long time, Cal. What happened to that girl you met at the conference we went to?”
“Who?”
“You know. The one with the nice ass. Sabrina?”
“Oh, Salina. She was alright. The long distance thing wasn’t for me.”
Cal took a sip of his juice. Would he ever be ready? He wasn’t conceited; he knew he was good looking. Above average height, still boyish but with the build of a man. He just couldn’t get Jess out of his head. She’d been the one. The one that stopped his heart for the first time. Now she was at eternal rest overlooking Camp Spartan.
Brian looked at his friend and read his thoughts. “Not ready are you?”
Cal shook his head. “Not even close. Every time I talk to a girl I feel like I’m cheating.”
“That’s natural, man. Forget I even mentioned it. So like I was saying before, where do you want to hit first?” The look of excitement on Brian’s face almost made Cal spit out his cranberry juice. He looked like a kid going to Disney World for the first time.
“How is it that you’ve never been to Vegas before?”
“Never had the chance. Left home at eighteen for the Navy, saw the world, then ended up back in Nashville.”
Cal didn’t want to spoil it for his friend. Las Vegas had some great stuff to see and eat, but he could never shake the contrast of wealth and poverty every time he visited. Vegas was littered with lost souls seeking an instant fortune or last drink. It wasn’t all bad. The city was doing some great things for the arts and large corporations. Zappos had recently relocated to the area.
“You know, we do have to do some work while we’re there,” Cal replied almost seriously.
Brian shook his head. “You said this was a recon mission. That’ll leave plenty of time to get fat and happy. I’ve been reading all about the buffet at the Bellagio. Did you know that they have all you can eat lobster?! I’m gonna eat ‘til I fall over.”
Cal chuckled. “Alright, Doc. Haven’t they let you out of the Bat Cave? You sound like you’ve been sequestered for the past month.”
“We’ve just been really busy. I’m trying to get these new Robo-Tourniquets to MARSOC.”
“Robo-Tourniquets?” Cal asked.
“Yeah! It’s fucking brilliant. One of the problems we’ve had on the battlefield was proper ways of maintaining pressure on injured arms or legs. The tourniquets in med kits have gotten better, but you’ve still got guys pulling off bootlaces and shredding their utilities to tie-off wounds. A lot of times, by the time the evac gets to a field hospital, the limb can’t be saved. We always knew that there was a pressure threshold to decrease blood loss while maintaining good blood flow. The problem is you can’t always manually monitor that when you’re getting shot at. That’s why we built the Robo-Tourniquet.”
“I think you lost me, Doc.” Cal knew all about the project from Neil, but wanted to hear it from Brian. It was the first R&D invention the former corpsman had spearheaded himself.
“So you’ve seen those blood pressure cuffs you can buy at the store, right?”
Cal nodded.
“Basically, we started out with one of those. Neil helped me rig one so we could actually program in the optimum pressure for a given wound and body type, then the cuff does it automatically. We’ve tested it with my paramedic buddies at Vanderbilt and they love it. It takes away the guessing game and lets a total amateur save someone’s life and limb.”
Cal was truly happy for his friend. They’d met just over a year before. Cal the patient, Brian the nurse. Ramirez was there when Cal needed a friend most after the loss of his fiancé. Brian’s faith in Cal turned into a strong friendship. He thought it was always funny how former military guys tended to bond if the initial introductions went well. Somehow they were able to skip a few levels of trust, bypass the B.S. and become buds.
After the episode with the gangster, Dante West, Brian was offered a full-time position at SSI. It wasn’t a hard decision for him. Although he loved his job at Vandy, he still missed the camaraderie of the Navy and Marine Corps. SSI provided not only a challenge, but the brotherhood so many military vets long for after separating from the service.
Brian fit in easily with the team at SSI. Athletic like the rest, his easy-going attitude endeared him to even the most hardcore of SSI operators. It didn’t hurt that Brian was also a Silver Star recipient for saving the lives of his fellow warriors in Iraq.
“Anything else you want to do in Vegas?” Cal asked.
“I heard about a few new clubs that could be fun. Maybe I can practice some of those counter-surveillance techniques Dunn’s been teaching me.”
Todd Dunn was head of internal security at Stokes Security International. Dunn was also a former Ranger that rarely broke from his serious demeanor.
“Have you ever seen that dude disappear in a crowd? It’s unbelievable!”
Cal knew most people underestimated the burly Dunn. What strangers never knew was the cunning and brilliance inside the soldier’s mind. He looked like a typical meat-head but could easily run with the best tacticians in the game. Dunn wasn’t a bad chess player either. He’d trounced Cal on more than one occasion.
“Yeah. I remember when I went through his Urban Escape and Evade course earlier this year. He took a couple of us to the Green Hills Mall. The place wasn’t even close to being packed and we lost him in under a minute. Later he shows up with a detailed description of what I’d done for the whole time. Guy knows his stuff,” affirmed Cal.
The stewardess appeared and asked if she could get the companions anything before landing.
“I think we’re good…” Cal paused to remember the girl’s name.
“Veronica,” she replied with a dazzling smile.
“Veronica,” Cal repeated, “thanks for everything.”
She disappeared down the aisle and Brian took the opportunity to lean over Cal and get a last peek of Veronica’s exit.
“You sure you’re not ready yet?” Brian asked his friend.
Chapter 13
Washington, D.C.
2:10pm, September 16th
“Is everything in position?” the career politician asked into the secure phone.
“Yes. All teams are standing by for your authorization.”
“Good. As we discussed, once I give you the go-ahead the operation must commence within twenty-four hours.”
“Understood.”
“I won’t have any problems with your compatriots will I?”
“No. As long as you hold up your end of the bargain, you will soon be the next President of the United States.”
The politician sat back and smiled. He’d waited a long time for this opportunity. He couldn’t wait to show that moron in the Oval Office what a real leader looked like. “We’ve known each other a long time. Have I ever gone back on my word?”
The man on the other end paused. “We only wish to ensure all parties will move forward together. Once again, our nations will be allied on the same path.”
The politician honestly didn’t give a damn for his partner’s motives. This was all about securing the American presidency.
“You provide what we agreed on and your little empire will rise again,” he sneered into the phone.
“It will be done.”
The politician replaced the receiver. The Democratic National Convention was right around the corner. This one would be absolutely historic. The nation and his party would soon be desperate for a new leader. I’ll be damned if I’ll wait another four years. Maybe it was time to write his acceptance speech.
&nb
sp; Chapter 14
Las Vegas, Nevada
3:16pm, September 16th
Cal and Brian checked into their room at the Cosmopolitan Hotel and Casino. It was located in an ideal location at the end of The Strip. Close enough to Neil at the Bellagio, it was also within easy walking distance to Congressman Zimmer at Zeitaku just off The Strip.
Cal glanced at his watch. “Top and Zimmer should be flying in soon. Let’s head over to the Bellagio and check out what Neil’s got.”
Although it was only early afternoon, Las Vegas Boulevard was already packed with tourists. The pair made their way through the throngs and finally arrived at the Bellagio.
“Wow! This place is crazy!” Brian exclaimed.
“You talking about all the people or the hotel?”
“Both! Is it always like this?”
Cal kept reminding himself not to dampen the mood. Brian needed to enjoy the experience.
“The hotel looks even more beautiful at night. We’ll come check it out later. As for the people, I guess the cooler weather’s really brought out the masses this year.”
“Does it have anything to do with the convention?” Brian asked.
“Which one? They have a ton out here.”
“Do you ever watch the news, jarhead? The Democratic National Convention.”
“I get all my news on Drudge, Doc. Besides, why the hell would I care about the left side of the aisle?”
“We are helping out a Democratic Congressman. You know what The Hammer says. Do…”
“Yeah, yeah. Do your homework.” Cal interrupted impatiently. The Hammer was SSI’s lead attorney Marjorie Haines. She’d picked up the nickname not only for her ferocity in the courtroom, but also the way she regularly took down SSI operators on the training mats. It was rumored that she had an impressive array of vintage wines aging in her cellar, thanks in part to the lucrative bets she’d won from SSI warriors. As the only female employee at SSI (a distinction she was silently proud of and didn’t care to share), there was always a challenge especially from cocky newcomers.
The Hammer was also meticulous about preparation. She knew more about impending ops than most of the men going into the field. It was a habit she hammered into her peers constantly. Haines was a valued advisor to Travis (it was also rumored that the two had an on-again off-again romance on the side) and the rest of the SSI leadership team. Beautiful and deadly, she was a force to be reckoned with.
“So when is the convention?” Cal asked.
“This week.”
The two walked in through the Bellagio’s main entrance and headed for the elevators. Cal glanced around casually, further honing his counter surveillance skills. He knew that Las Vegas casinos were some of the most guarded fortresses on Earth. It would be interesting trying to pick out the enemies among the sea of native security staff.
They soon reached Patel’s door and knocked on it.
Pointing to the small peephole Brian asked, “You think that’s one of his rigged cameras?”
The tech genius was known for weaving surveillance gear into anything he could. It also made him one of the most successful pranksters on both SSI campuses.
“I’ll bet it is,” Cal answered. “What the hell’s taking him so long?”
He knocked again. Nothing. Strange.
Cal pulled out his mobile and dialed Neil’s number. Patel picked up on the third ring.
“Yeah?”
“Were you asleep?”
“Cal?”
“Yeah, jackass. We’re right outside your door!”
“Oh, sorry. I’ll be there in a sec.”
Cal looked down at his phone and shook his head.
“He did get here yesterday, Cal. I’ll bet he was out gambling all night,” Brian said smirking.
The door opened and a bleary-eyed Neil peered out.
“Sorry guys. Pulled an all-nighter.”
Brian beat Cal to the punch, “How much did you win?”
“What?” asked a clearly confused Patel as he stepped back into the room, Cal and Brian following.
“How much did you win at the craps tables last night?” Brian repeated.
“Oh! I wasn’t gambling, Doc. I was getting all this set up.” Patel motioned to the impressive array of equipment lining the room.
“Holy crap, Neil!” Cal piped, “Are you having an Xbox convention in here?”
“I wish. Figured we’d need as much horsepower as we could get. It was a real pain getting it shipped and setup yesterday. At least now I’ve got everything I’ll need to work remotely.” Neil scratched his disheveled hair and fixed his expensive eyeglasses. His handsome Indian face was lined with two-day-old stubble. “You guys hungry?”
“We just grabbed a quick bite at our hotel,” Cal explained. “You wanna order up some room service or give us a quick rundown of where we’re at?”
Neil gave food a serious thought as he felt his stomach grumble. He knew better than to make his friend wait though. They’d know each other since their days at the University of Virginia, and Neil knew Cal could be an impatient and stubborn ass when he wanted to.
“Let me give you a brief summary and then I’ll get some food.”
Cal nodded and followed Neil over to the main bank of computer screens.
Patel sat down, logged in, and started clicking away on the mouse. Pictures popped up on multiple screens.
“Okay. Based on the information I got from Congressman Zimmer, I’ve started my analysis on this gaming consultancy: Ichiban Gaming. The only intel I’ve gathered on them is from their website and public records. I’ve got a couple of my crawler programs making some inquiries now.” Neil pointed at the far left screen. “This guy right here is the Congressman’s friend, Ishi Nakamura. Looked up his records and so far everything checks out. It does seem a little odd for him to be such a big fish at Ichiban at his age. Then again, it’s his father’s company so you never know.”
Cal interrupted. “This guy is dirty, Neil. No way could he call off the hounds at a murder scene without having some pull. Do whatever you need to do to find out more.”
“Already on it. I’m pulling his banking history right now. With that, I can track where he’s been. Should know more soon.”
“Okay. I’m going to Zimmer’s hotel to take a look around. Do you have my order?” Cal asked.
“Yeah, it’s all in that box.” Neil pointed to a black case, about two feet by four feet in size, laying on the nearest chaise lounge.
Cal kneeled down and opened the case. Inside were three pistols and plenty of ammunition from the SSI armory. Nothing less than a .45. Cal ignored them. Walking into a Las Vegas hotel armed wasn’t the best thing. Instead, he snagged one of four knives and pulled it out of the sheath. The blade, six inches in length, was pointed and razor sharp on both edges. He’d heard about these particular blades in one of his favorite novels and decided to order them a few months earlier. It was a small weapon but effective in a pinch. More importantly you could strap it to your wrist and carry it concealed. Retrieval was easy and deadly. After the attack in Nashville the previous year, Cal never left home unprepared. Although he would’ve loved his trusty Springfield XD pistol, the blade would do.
He looked up at Ramirez, pointing at the remaining weapons. “You want one?”
“I’m good. I’ll stick with my pennies,” Brian said, patting his jean pockets.
Brian was talking about the two sets of rolled pennies, one in each pocket. They weren’t as good as a firearm, but very effective in a fistfight. Besides, Ramirez wasn’t a stranger to hand-to-hand combat. He’d spent plenty of time in the Principal’s office as a kid. Going to an all-white (save one) school in Nashville hadn’t always been the easiest. There were always a couple of rednecks that wanted to pick on his Hispanic heritage. They soon found out that the little beaner was a scrapper, thanks to hours of practice in the boxing ring.
Cal took off his sport coat, strapped the knife onto his left arm, and put his coat b
ack on. “You ready, Doc?”
“Let’s go.”
+++
“Father, the Congressman will be landing soon,” Ishi bowed to his father.
Kazuo Nakamura, a slightly overweight man, looked at his son with pride. To think that all their plans were finally coming to fruition. Years of planning. Congressman Zimmer was the icing on the cake. Yes, delivered by their contact in Washington, but designed and executed by Ishi.
“Good. Ensure our eyes are always on him,” he said as he stroked his graying goatee.
“Yes, Father. There has been one new development.” Ishi offered cautiously.
“And what would that be, my Son?”
“It seems that the Congressman has a bodyguard with him.”
“How did you find out about this?”
“Our contact sent me an encrypted email an hour ago. Apparently, the Congressman contacted a company called SSI to provide security.”
“What?! The fool! You assured me that this would not happen.”
“I warned him, Father. There is more.”
All vestiges of Kazuo Nakamura’s calm façade disappeared. “What else has he done?!”
“Our contact also alerted me to the fact that there might be additional SSI personnel coming to Las Vegas to conduct surveillance. He was only able to provide a brief profile of one man, a Calvin Stokes, Jr. Mr. Stokes is the heir to the company’s founder; his deceased father.”
Kazuo stroked his beard, thinking. “Did he provide a physical description?”
“He provided a picture from his military record. Calvin Stokes is a former Marine.”
“Provide the photograph to the security staff at each of our hotels. If this Calvin Stokes sets foot in one of them I want him followed and apprehended…quietly.”
“Should I use one of our teams?”
“No. Use our Russian friends. They know how to be discreet.”
“Yes, Father. I will take care of it.”
“Is there anything else?”
“No, Father.”
“Our time is coming, my Son. Do well and our family will soon attain new heights within the empire.”
