Corps Justice Boxed Set: Books 1-3: Back to War, Council of Patriots, Prime Asset

by C. G. Cooper

  Hank Waller put his face in his hands. “How could this have happened?” he asked to no one in particular.

  Cal didn’t know what to say. Once again, he was in completely unfamiliar territory.

  “Is there anything else I can do, sir?”

  Waller looked up, the misery plain in his watery eyes. And yet, a spark of anger seethed. “You find whoever did this to my little girl, Cal, and I’ll help you destroy them.”

  +++

  2:33am

  Cal and Daniel left the President with his quietly sobbing wife.

  “You think they’ll be okay?” Daniel asked. He hadn’t said a word in Waller’s posh suite.

  Stokes knew Waller was a strong man. You can’t be President without having an extra gear. Still, the man was human. He wondered how it would affect Waller’s performance at the convention.

  “I’ll think they’ll pull through.”

  “I’ll pray for them.”

  Cal nodded. He appreciated having Daniel’s calming influence around. In response, Cal also said a silent prayer for the Wallers.

  +++

  3:07am

  They finally made it back to the Bellagio after fighting through the drunken crowds. Everyone was headed to the closest food joint before heading in for the night.

  “Thanks for coming, Daniel. I’ll wake you up in a few hours.”

  Briggs patted Cal on the back and headed off to get what sleep he could.

  Cal took one last look out the large panoramic window. The lights of The Strip shone brightly in the dark desert. He hoped the morning would be uneventful.

  The Marine set his alarm and fell back onto the over-sized couch. One of the benefits of his time in the Marine Corps was the ability to sleep anywhere, anytime. Cal was asleep in less than two minutes.

  Chapter 37

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  5:02am, September 19th

  The First Sergeant had just called Capt. Andrew’s room to wake him. Andy kicked his legs off the bed and walked to the bathroom. The details of the day’s performance were already aligning themselves in his brain. It would be a very busy day.

  +++

  5:42am

  Cal’s alarm went off just as he slipped into one of his recurring dreams. He’d just found out that his parents had died and he was running to the Marine recruiting office. Problem was, in his dream, he just kept running and running. He never got close to his final destination.

  He shook his head and looked up to see Daniel sitting across from him, apparently ready to go.

  “How long have you been up?”

  “Since five-thirty. I’m showered and ready to go.”

  This guy was good. He’d have to remember that. “Alright, give me a minute to rinse off. You mind making me a cup of coffee?”

  “No problem.”

  Cal trudged off to the spacious bathroom and turned the shower to cold. He needed to shock his system. Today would be a long day and Cal needed a clear head. He held his breath and stepped into the frigid downpour.

  +++

  5:49am

  “Are your men in position?” Kazuo Nakamura asked his compatriot.

  “Yes, Nakamura-san. They are prepared to die a warrior’s death,” the man barked earnestly to his master.

  “Hopefully, it will not come to that. We will need many men when we take back the empire. Have you made arrangements for myself and my son?”

  The man relayed the plan. Nakamura was satisfied. They would have a front row seat to the coming carnage.

  He examined the Nambu pistol in his hand one last time. It was a gift from his father. Somehow, he’d been able to keep it hidden from the authorities. He’d told young Kazuo that the pistol had served him well in the Great War. Many enemies had lost their lives to the simple weapon. Nakamura’s eyes flared as he imagined using it against his enemies. Yes, today would be a day to remember.

  +++

  5:56am

  Capt. Andrews looked at himself in the mirror. Even though it could be a royal pain sometimes, he still loved his dress blues. It made him feel like a Marine. As an afterthought, he walked into the bedroom and grabbed the shopping bag Cal’s friend Daniel had brought. He’d given it to Andy just before leaving.

  “Don’t let Cal know, sir, but I thought you might need these.”

  Andy had looked into the bag, and found a Sig Sauer 9mm pistol, along with two replacement magazines full of ammunition. He silently thanked the sniper for his forethought.

  Taking the weapon from the bag, he placed it uncomfortably in his back waistband. There wasn’t much room inside the form-fitting uniform, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t going in naked. Andy deposited one magazine into each of his front pockets.

  After looking at himself in the mirror one last time to make sure his weapons weren’t obviously visible, he made his way out to the waiting vans.

  Chapter 38

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  6:15am, September 19th

  The Marines filed into the convention center, carrying their rifles at port arms. Andy wished they’d been able to bring ammunition for the damn things. He still had a really bad feeling about their upcoming performance. It felt like they were walking into an ambush.

  He chatted with the two Secret Service agents at the main entrance, waiting for Cal to arrive. Two minutes later, Stokes walked up dressed in black t-shirt, sport coat, and designer jeans. So that’s Cal’s new uniform, Andy thought. Cal had offered his good friend a position at SSI, but Capt. Andrews wasn’t ready to leave the Corps. He came from a military family. His father and grandfather both retired from the military. Andy figured he would probably stay in for one more tour and then get out. After all, he did have bright prospects as a civilian. SSI was a good place for a warrior to end up.

  “Hey, Andy!” Cal called cheerfully, Daniel walking smoothly beside.

  Andy handed Cal and Daniel their visitor passes as the Secret Service agents did a quick frisking of both men. “Easy, boys. Your mama know you do that at work?” Cal asked.

  The large agent chuckled as he finished frisking Cal with a hard smack on the ass. “Have fun, jarhead.”

  “Army?” Cal asked the muscular man, rubbing his rear.

  “SEAL.”

  “You know what they say, sailor…?”

  “What’s that, knuckle-dragger?” the agent asked with a grin.

  “What happens in the Navy, stays in the Navy,” Cal commented innocently.

  The agent’s partner laughed and ushered the two Marines into the convention center after taking their cell phones for safekeeping.

  Cal and Daniel looked around in amazement. The place was huge. It took them a full five minutes of brisk walking to get to the main event area. They didn’t run into anyone else. The convention would kick off a little after 5pm with doors opening at 3pm. It looked like everything was ready and waiting for the impending visitors.

  They finally reached the staging area where the Marines were waiting. Cal let them get ready as he and Daniel first examined the trailers and then walked to the entryway leading into the arena. The exhibition space was about the size of a football field. The Silent Drill Team would have plenty of room to maneuver, even with the huge trailer. Cal could make out the short row of chairs on the opposite end of the field where the President would be sitting. He hadn’t arrived yet.

  Capt. Andrews walked over. “They said you guys can grab a seat on this side of the arena.” He pointed right over his head where seating was arranged stadium style.

  “Sounds good. What time does the show start?” Cal asked.

  “We load into the trailer at quarter ‘til seven. They close us in and wheel us into the arena five minutes later. Why don’t you guys head up to your seats and I’ll see you after the show?”

  Andy headed back to his Marines who were carefully being inspected by their squad leaders. They wouldn’t be caught dead with even a speck of lint on their uniforms, even if it was practice.

  Cal and Dani
el took the set of stairs up to the landing where two folding chairs were clearly marked with “Jarhead #1” and “Jarhead #2” written on pieces of white paper.

  “Those Secret Service guys sure are funny,” Cal noted wryly.

  From their seats, they could observe the entire field. It would give them a perfect view. He pointed to the highest point at the opposite end of the arena. They could see the two Zimmers and Trent filing into their row. Cal waved but couldn’t catch Trent’s eye.

  The only thing not in view was the staging area. Little did they know that that was where they should have been looking.

  +++

  6:27

  Trent took the lead as he escorted the Senator and Congressman to their seats. Senator Zimmer had elected to keep his security detail outside. He’d reasoned that the Secret Service would already have the area sufficiently canvassed and secured.

  Out of habit, MSgt Trent glanced all around the huge space. He saw Cal and Daniel at the far end of the hall. He waved and Cal motioned back.

  Continuing his scan, he looked at the new VIP boxes. He didn’t see anyone prepping. Strange. Just as he moved his gaze past the last window, he caught a flicker of movement in the skybox closest to the President. Probably just a cleaning crew, he thought as the figure disappeared again. The Senator was right; the Secret Service should have this place buttoned up tight.

  Trent finished his inspection and looked back at the center of the arena. He looked forward to seeing Marines in dress blues again.

  +++

  6:29am

  “Get back, you fool,” whispered Nakamura harshly to his son. They were comfortably situated in recliners at the back of the skybox closest to the President.

  “He didn’t see me, Father,” complained Ishi. He was getting tired of his father’s paranoia. He’d be glad when this day was over.

  “That black man looked back this way…”

  “But he’s staring at the ground floor again, Father. Let’s just sit back and watch the show.”

  Kazuo Nakamura was too close to accomplishing his long-planned mission to relax. His contacts within the ownership of the convention center had paid off. Rather than having a lot of crew prepping the morning of the event, they’d pushed hard to get all the prep work done the day before the event. Nakamura’s compatriot who controlled the event coordinator, Janet Riley, had ‘requested’ that she get the crew out by midnight in order for them to “get rest before the big event.” It was a simple request and had seemed reasonable. Riley had complied willingly.

  The lack of workers had allowed the Japanese imperialists to stage their people earlier that morning. The absence of building personnel would also mean fewer witnesses.

  Better that the American people hear the news on this morning’s telecast, thought Kazuo Nakamura. His people would be gone before the authorities had any inkling of the event. Yes, he had planned it perfectly.

  +++

  6:40am

  “All right, ladies, everyone in the trailer,” barked the First Sergeant. They methodically walked up the ramp and into the expanded trailer. There was interior lighting, but it was still like walking into a coffin.

  Capt. Andrews and the 1stSgt were the last to enter. Andy threw the small Asian crewmember outside the door a thumbs-up and held down the control until the ramp was closed. They were now safely ensconced in the large trailer…or so they thought.

  +++

  6:43am

  The crewman looked around to make sure no one else was around. He was alone. Quickly he typed into his cell phone: LOAD.

  Ten seconds later, a platoon of seemingly identical Marines entered the staging area from a back entrance. They wore the same uniforms and carried the same M-1 Garand rifles. The only difference was the slightly increased weight of four of the weapons due to the live ammunition inside.

  They marched quickly into the backup trailer just as the loud music started booming in the arena. As the ramp door closed, a man in a Marine Captain’s uniform turned to the crewmember and snapped a quick salute. The crewmember returned the salute and pulled out a small remote control. He flipped the safety switch and pressed the red button. His duties accomplished, he slipped out a rear exit and drove to the private airfield outside of Las Vegas.

  +++

  6:45am

  Capt. Andrews was giving the Marines last minute instructions when the booming of the convention theme song shook the trailer. “All right, Marines. That music means we have one minute. Right about now, the President is having a seat in the arena. I know some of you guys would love to give the President a hug, but please resist the temptation.”

  The Marines laughed with their commander as they fixed their bayonets. When the trailer sides flipped down, they’d be arrayed facing out, bayonets at the ready, as if about to ward off a horde of enemies.

  “Let’s all get into position,” the First Sergeant barked over the loud music.

  Andy shifted the pistol in his waistband one last time. The damn thing kept digging into his back. Maybe I was being a little too paranoid, he thought.

  Just as he moved to the center position, the trailers lights flickered. Andy looked up and squinted. Was that steam coming out of the ceiling?

  +++

  6:48am

  “Whew, we just made it,” remarked the President.

  “Sorry about that, Mr. President. It’s Howie’s first time in Vegas,” the lead Secret Service agent explained jokingly. Howard Grant was the President’s driver for the day and a Secret Service veteran of almost twenty years. Contrary to his boss’s comment, Grant knew the streets of Las Vegas intimately.

  It was actually the President’s daughters that had kept them from leaving on-time. They’d insisted on an extended breakfast with Dad. Never one to deny his beautiful girls, the President had relented until his detail leader had discretely tapped on his watch.

  The President sat down as the music rose to its first crescendo.

  Chapter 39

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  6:50am, September 19th

  The oversized trailer moved out of the staging area. It paused at the entryway to the arena and waited for the correct point in the music.

  +++

  “Good. They got it to the door. I’d love to see the look on the President’s face,” Nakamura noted to his son.

  Ishi didn’t bother to respond. He kept his eyes glued to the arena. Father and son anxiously awaited the show.

  +++

  Half of his Marines were already lying unconscious on the floor.

  As Andy had noted the gaseous substance coming out of the trailer’s ceiling, he somehow had the wherewithal to take a deep breath. Without opening his mouth, he’d silently tried to gesture to his Marines. His First Sergeant was the first to comprehend and took in a deep breath before the fumes hit.

  By the time the mist had moved down past the Marines’ necks, some had already collapsed. Andy scrambled to get back to the ramp and engage the opening mechanism. When he got there, the Marine Captain could barely hear his Marines hitting the floor as the powerful gas assaulted their nervous systems.

  In the back of his mind, he somehow recognized that keeping his breath in seemed to help. He’d always read that the more powerful chemical weapons entered the body through the skin and not through the airway. Andy had no way of knowing if that were true or not. It was like those videos the government used to show about how to react when a nuclear explosion occurs. Was it real or just made to make it seem that you “could” survive such an event? Was this gas agent the same way?

  It had been close to a minute since he’d first inhaled. He pounded on the ramp release button. Nothing happened. He tried again and again then pounded on the ramp itself. Nothing. They were trapped. Almost all of his Marines were on the ground. Through the mist he could just make out his First Sergeant stumbling his way over the platoon of unconscious Marines.

  +++

  “Looks like they had to go with the backup trailer,” Cal
noted.

  “Huh. Good thing they brought it,” Daniel added.

  A second later, a cannon in the music boomed loudly and the trailer flaps folded to the ground. The platoon was arrayed in a large oval, some kneeling in the front row, the second row standing; all were arrayed outward with bayonets fixed and presented toward the crowd.

  “Wow! That’s pretty sweet,” yelled Daniel over the music.

  Cal agreed. He’d never seen the Silent Drill Team doing anything like this before.

  As they watched, the platoon of twenty-four reformed into a column and marched down onto the field.

  +++

  The First Sergeant had finally collapsed to the floor after banging on the ramp with Capt. Andrews. No one was coming to help them. Just as he started to lose his breath, he remembered the pistol in his waistband.