Corps Justice Boxed Set: Books 1-3: Back to War, Council of Patriots, Prime Asset (32 page)

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There was a part of Cal that still couldn’t
come to grips with his new life. If he could tell anyone what he
did for a living, they’d never believe it.

Cal finished up his shower and dried off. It
was time to get back to work.

Chapter 3

Washington,
D.C.

10:40am, September 13th

Congressman Brandon Zimmer was in no mood to
talk. After a lot of soul-searching, he’d decided to tell his
father about the incident in Las Vegas. He waited for the senior
Senator to make the walk from his senate chambers. He’d instructed
his small staff to take an extended lunch break. Father and son
would have the office alone. Brandon tapped his foot nervously as
he waited.

Senator Zimmer strolled into Brandon’s
office precisely ten minutes after their phone conversation. The
elder statesman was the very picture of a political figure.
Completely gray haired, his frame was still fit from vigorous daily
exercise. He’d competed in triathlons in his younger days, but now
whetted his competitive appetite on the tennis courts, typically
throttling his peers. Senator Zimmer was a card-carrying Democrat,
but was well respected on both sides of the aisle. He’d mellowed
with age but his temper was still legendary.

Senator Zimmer cut to the chase. “So what is
it this time, Brandon?”

Brandon tried to look his father in the face
as he answered, “I’ve got a problem.”

The Senator rolled his eyes. “What else is
new?”

The young Congressman pounded his fist on
the side table. “Dad, this time it’s really serious.”

Brandon knew better than to lie to his
father, so he quickly ran through the details of Beth’s murder in
Las Vegas. Senator Zimmer stayed quiet during the most of the
recitation. He only interrupted his son twice to clarify
points.

As Brandon wrapped up his tale, Sen. Zimmer
walked to the Congressman’s large desk and sat down. He placed his
hands on the desk and glared at his only son.

“Well Brandon, I’d love to know how you’re
going to get your tail out of this one.”

Chapter 4

Las Vegas,
Nevada

11:30am, September 13th

The small group of men sat quietly in the
windowless gloom of the hotel conference room. Smoke from carefully
tended cigarettes curled towards the ceiling and hovered. They all
knew each other. Theirs was a relationship kindled over years of
collaboration. No man was younger than fifty-five.

They’d gathered as friends but considered
each other family. In fact, some had betrothed their children to
the offspring of fellow members.

Every head around the table digested the
latest reports from their appointed leader. The time for decisive
action was coming. The Empire of Japan would rise again.

Chapter 5

Turks and
Caicos, Providenciales Island

12:02pm, September 13th

Cal adjusted the remote camera. After only
an hour on surveillance, he was bored. The only way he could keep
focused was to continuously pan and zoom the view. Not that he
could complain though. He’d volunteered for the gig against
Travis’s objections.

As head of the newly dubbed Strategies and
Contingencies Division (SCD) of SSI, Cal should have been at one of
SSI’s two headquarters, one south of Nashville and one outside of
Charlottesville, Virginia. Travis, Cal’s cousin and CEO of SSI,
wanted Cal to coordinate his division’s future plans.

Despite the conveniently unhelpful name
given to SSI’s newest branch, it was in fact the covert wing of the
Stokes Security International. Unknown to the public and government
agencies, at times SSI worked outside the law. Through its
contacts, like the Council of Patriots, SSI gathered actionable
intelligence that would otherwise go unused by law enforcement and
even the most covert of government agencies. The reasons were
twofold: first, the intelligence itself could never be used in a
court of law because of the methods by which it was obtained and
second, the secret division was only tasked with threats to the
American homeland.

SSI’s special operations brethren could take
care of the international threats. Politicians were loath to deploy
troops on American soil. That left agencies like the FBI, Homeland
Security and local law enforcement to the task. Those agencies are
still bound by law to employ due process and not infringe on
individual liberties. The Patriot Act helped, but not in all
cases.

It was Cal’s father who had
decided to help the cause. Instead of standing by, watching
helplessly as America was devoured from both the outside and
within, Cal Sr. decided to act. Employing his mantra of
Corps Justice
, he took
his covert battle to the enemy.

Targets over the previous years included
drug lords, terrorists, mass murderers, and more. The common
thread? Each target knew enough about American law to skirt law
enforcement. Technology had allowed the enemies of the United
States to further entrench themselves into North America.

Cal Sr. realized the immense danger this
would create for his corporation. He’d therefore carefully picked
those involved for their sense of integrity, patriotism, and
ability to choose right from wrong. It didn’t hurt that one and all
were former warriors from their respective branches of the Armed
Forces.

Years later, it was Cal, Jr. who’d been
tapped to exact this covert justice. It was a thankless job, but
each man involved was used to serving his country and barely
getting a pat on the back. To a man, the most important aspect was
protecting America from growing internal threats. There was no
sleep lost for their slain enemies. There was only the dream of a
brighter future and a more secure America.

He was currently in Turks and Caicos with a
small SSI surveillance team. Nothing fancy, just a week of staring
at a camera and following a high profile target around the small
Caribbean island. Since taking over the new division Cal had made
it a point to get a feel for all operational aspects at SSI. He’d
spent time with the insertion teams, the security teams, an
unfortunate weekend with the VIP protection teams (Cal couldn’t
stand kissing up to snobby elite), the Research and Development
Division headed up by his good friend Neil Patel, and finally the
surveillance teams. Cal had also been through a majority of the
training programs provided by his company, such as the close
quarters combat training and the hand-to-hand training led by MSgt
Willy Trent. He still had a green bruise from their last training
session on the mats.

It had taken him away from the strategic
planning Travis had wanted, but in the long run it gave Cal a
better understanding of SSI’s capabilities. As a Marine, he had to
be familiar with all the parts of an operational unit. It also
allowed him to be on the ground with the troops. It was one of the
things he still missed about being in the Marine Corps.

He’d always known that SSI made a lot of
money, but he never knew exactly where it came from. In its
infancy, the bulk of the company’s work came from security,
training, and surveillance contracts. SSI still had a large
contract force in Iraq and Afghanistan.

They’d slowly moved away from operational
work and branched into cyber warfare and R&D. Not only did SSI
provide equipment and weapons systems for the United States
government, it also developed software and products for civilian
corporations. With Neil in the lead, SSI had grown into a virtual
factory of American commerce.

Cal was proud of the fact that his company
now quietly led many of the most innovative brands in the world.
Neil had even created a technology incubator that annually selected
twenty technology start-ups from around the world, provided them
with $100,000 for one year, mentored them through the rigors of
launching, and allowed them to work in close proximity with either
the Nashville or Charlottesville headquarters of SSI. The company
would, of course, retain twenty percent of each venture.

Over the past three years, out of the sixty
start-ups they’d sponsored, thirty-two were already profitable. Six
had already been sold to the likes of Google, Apple, and GE to the
tune of 150 million dollars.

Cal’s mind wandered as he stared at the
high-def screen. This stint had been more of a vacation than an
undercover operation. The big fat target they were getting paid to
monitor did little more than eat, sit by the pool, and sleep. Even
his entourage rarely left the confines of the beautiful resort.

His cell phone buzzed silently in his pocket
as Cal struggled to stay awake. He pulled it out of his shorts,
looked at the caller ID and answered.

It was his cousin. “Hey, Trav.”

“I heard a nasty rumor that Willy drank you
under the table, cuz.”

Cal laughed. “Ain’t no rumor, Trav. I woke a
sleeping giant and lost.”

“I could’ve told you that would happen!”
Travis laughed back.

“I know. You live and learn.”

Suddenly serious, Travis asked, “Hey,
something just came up. How quickly can you get back here?”

“Are you in Tennessee or Virginia?”

“Virginia.”

“I guess I could catch a flight tomorrow. We
only have two more days left on this gig anyway.”

“I need you back sooner.”

Cal was curious about the sudden urgency.
“You wanna give me a hint of what’s going on?”

“We’ve had a request from the Council and
they’re bringing an outsider to come see us.”

An outsider? Cal couldn’t think of who it
might be. “Huh. Let me make a couple calls and see if I can’t get
out tonight.”

“Call me when you know,” Travis said and
finished the call.

Cal replaced his phone and looked back up at
the screen. The obese target was still lying in bed rubbing his
rotund belly. Maybe it was time to go.

Chapter 6

Camp
Cavalier, Charlottesville, VA

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.”