Pushed to the Edge (SEAL Team 14) (17 page)

“Well at least alleged to have been found,” Gerard
interrupted “We’re still trying to gather enough evidence to create a solid
case against the Henning Cooper Company.”

 “Henning may have known that one of his clients
was shipping heroin in his tankers, but passed up on alerting the authorities
for a piece of the action,” Ryland took back over.  “Then his deal with the
devil blew up in his face.  Right now, this is just our working theory.”

Cahill shifted in his seat to reach across the
table to grab one of the additional classified documents that he hadn’t
received earlier in the meeting. 

“So giving Henning the benefit of the doubt that
he wasn’t a piece of shit traitor, his shipping company got caught up in the
international drug trade, likely for the obvious monetary incentives,” Cahill
said.  “But why would the Haqqai group target the Henning Cooper Company in the
first place—they had to have known that it was owned by a former U.S. Congressman? 
Wouldn’t that be too risky for them?”

Mark answered his friend’s question saying,
“Obviously, it was a risk that they were willing to take.  Besides, once word
of this reaches the airwaves, American citizens are going to be livid and even
more disgusted with their elected officials than they already are—if that’s
possible.  And that’s even when the Haqqai group fails in their overall mission
to attack the United States.”

“And they
will
fail.  It’s our job to make
sure that they fail,” Taylor said with a fierce look upon his face.  “We’re
going to be sending members of SEAL Team Eleven to the Afghanistan-Pakistan
border.  We’re sending members of SEAL Team Fourteen to Russia, where we
believe the smallpox samples are still located.  We have to keep all of our
activities as close to pocket as possible.  We don’t want the Haqqai group to
get a whiff that we know about their plans or that we are tracking down their
key leaders.  If they find out prematurely—before we have our strike teams in
place—they could move the virus again and then we’ll be back to square one. 
Actually worse off than back to square one because more time will have been
shaven off the clock.”

Gerard
absent-mindedly drummed his fingers on his section of the desk before saying,
“In regards to the federal drug investigation into the Henning Cooper Company,
as a precaution we’re closely monitoring both of the ports that the company
owns.  We’ve already alerted the command at the U.S. Coast Guard and they are
working in tandem with leadership of both the FBI and DEA.  But naturally, the
narcotics case is not the most pressing concern that we have at the moment.” 

Having
the U.S. Coast Guard on deck to monitor Henning’s ports was a piece of good
news.  Port security was another issue of significant national security that
the American public only gave a passing glance—if they paid attention to it at
all.  Securing U.S. ports was one of the biggest areas of concern for
counterterrorism experts. 

Every
year, almost two billion tons of cargo entered and exited U.S. ports.  However,
due to funding deficits and the lack of a sufficient labor force to maintain
significant security checks at every U.S. port only a very small percentage of
that freight was ever checked.  This lack of oversight made the U.S. port
system an attractive route for terrorists to enact their schemes.

 “The bottom line is that we need to move on these
fuckers and secure and destroy the virus before they are able to mobilize it
for transport,” Taylor added, “Millions of U.S. citizens’ lives are at stake.”

“What happens if the worst case scenario does
actually happen?” Teprin asked.  “I mean what are the contingency plans for the
emergency vaccination of American citizens?”

“Since we started receiving intel from the CIA
that a rogue terrorist group was in the market for smallpox samples, the CDC
has been working overtime, jointly with several U.S. laboratories to create a
stockpile of the smallpox vaccine.  But as of today, we are still tens of
millions of vaccines short of what we would need to effectively vaccinate
everyone,” Admiral Taylor said.  He leaned forward against the table,
stretching his hands out.

“We’re going to be deploying sixteen men from Team
Eleven and twenty-eight men from Team Fourteen to their respective areas and
they will be wheels up within the next forty-eight hours.  On the plane ride,
each member will be briefed on what the plan of action is which we hope to have
formulated within the next few hours,” Taylor said.

“Our intelligence agents in the regions have tight
deadlines to get back to us with the needed information—and they will use
whatever means are necessary to get the intel to us in time,” Gerard added.

“Okay men, if there are no more questions, you
need to go ahead and notify the soldiers that we will be sending out.  You are
dismissed,” Taylor said, concluding the meeting.

oshua dropped his duffle
bag with a loud
thump
on the wooden floor that covered the entryway of
his three-bedroom rental home in San Diego. 

Because he was one of the senior members of Team
Fourteen, he had had the choice of living outside of the military base.  Joshua
had decided to rent a small bungalow, which was only a few minutes’ drive from
the base.  After a decade of living in military housing—he had needed the space
to stretch out. 

In addition, after their parents died six years
ago, he and his sister Emmani had become close—they were all the family each
other had.  Even after moving away to attend college, his sister still
frequently spent time with him, at least when he happened to be stateside.  She
was living in Texas now and working at a children’s hospital as a pediatric
nurse. 

Both Emmani and Josh had inherited their mother’s
dark hair, olive skin tone, and shimmering light brown eyes.  Their mother had
been Italian American, and their father had been French American.  Given all
that they had been through, he was exceedingly protective of his little sister,
who had flown the coop by moving to from their home in California for college. 
But she adored her big brother and still visited him for every major holiday.

After almost a year of overseas missions, he was
happy to be home.  He and a few other members of his team had been called away
from Germany in mid-October to complete a special assignment.  Upon the
assignment’s conclusion, their CO had ordered them back to NAB Coronado. 

The group was still waiting for the go ahead to
move on the members of the Haqqai network, but until then they were to remain
stateside.  As one of the best snipers on SEAL Team Fourteen—really one of the
best sharpshooters in the country—Will had been sent on yet another special ops
mission and was still OCONUS. 

Since his return to California, Joshua had been
completing a series of training exercises with the section of his team that had
returned home from various missions.  Today, he had requested a couple of days
off given that he’d virtually been on duty without any break days for the past
ten months.

Joshua closed and locked the door behind him and
then immediately headed straight for the shower.  He stepped out about twenty
minutes later to the sound of his cell phone ringing.  He quickly wrapped a
towel around himself and picked up his phone.  He didn’t recognize the number
that appeared across the screen.

“Laurent, here.”

“Josh,” a lowered female voice replied.

“Hey, who is this?”

“Josh, it’s me Victoria.  I need your help.”

“What is it?  What’s wrong?” Joshua asked.  He
couldn’t believe that she was contacting him after all this time.  He hadn’t
heard the sound of her voice in two years, but could tell that she was scared
to death by the way that her voice was quivering. 

“I think I’m in big trouble.  I’ve been looking
into Congressman Henning’s kidnapping.  I was with him two days ago when he was
shot,” Victoria said softly in that gravelly voice of hers.

“What? 
Why
?”  Joshua was completely
confused.  Victoria was a local crime reporter so it didn’t make sense that she
would be investigating such a big national case for the
Dallas Star Gazette
.

“It’s a long story, Josh.  It’s too long to go
over it on the phone.  Can you pick me up?”

“I’m not in Texas.  I’m in San Diego,” he
responded.  “I have the next few days off, so I can catch a flight out—”

“No, I’m in San Diego.  I took the Greyhound and got
in this evening.  I didn’t know where else to go.”

“What?  You took the bus?”  Joshua stopped before
he asked her what happened to her car, it didn’t really matter how she got
here.  What mattered was that she
was
here.  “Are you still at the bus
station?”

“Yes, I’m at the passenger pick up area.”

“Are you calling from your cell phone?”  Joshua
wanted to know so that he could save her number on his phone in case he needed
to contact her before he arrived at the station of if he couldn’t find her when
he got there.

“Yes.”

“Okay.  I’m on my way right now.”  Joshua hung up
the phone and threw on a pair of jeans and a polo shirt.  He crammed his feet
into his sneakers and grabbed his holster, gun, and a couple of extra clips. 
Joshua never left the house without his weapon and extra ammunition.

 After locking up, he hustled to his vehicle and
jumped behind the steering wheel of his grey 2008 Land Rover.  It would take
him a little over fifteen minutes to drive down to the Greyhound station on
National Avenue.

His mind was reeling.  He had heard the news about
Richard Henning’s most recent attack.  Joshua had been in this business a long
time.  It didn’t take a genius to realize that Henning’s recent string of
misfortune wasn’t just bad luck.  Someone had been gunning for him, quite
literally. 

 Unfortunately, this time Henning’s good luck had
completely run out.  He’d been shot through the chest and stomach at point
blank range with a .44 caliber weapon.  He hadn’t even made it off the
operating table.

Henning had been actively hunted and had been
marked for death, likely by the very same people who had kidnapped
him—terrorists.  Now Victoria had managed to get herself twisted up all of the
chaos. 
His
Victoria.  It was funny to think that after all this time,
he still thought of her as his. 

Joshua’s feelings weren’t just some base male
instinct that recognized Victoria as an object to be possessed.  No, despite
the distance that had formed between the two of them over the past year, he
still cared for her.  Joshua wanted to protect this woman—a woman whom he had
desperately been in love with at one point in his life. 

Truthfully, a part of him didn’t want to see her
again, to risk the chance of forming another emotional attachment to her.  But
whatever had happened between them in the past, he couldn’t actually bring
himself to say no to her when she needed his help, especially if she was in
physical danger. 

Approximately fifteen minutes later, Joshua pulled
up to the passenger pick up area of the bus station.  There were at least a
dozen people milling around outside, either waiting to be picked up or waiting
for a bus to depart.  Also, standing outside, close to the taxicab service
area, was Victoria Sanchez. 

At last, they meet again.

He pulled up to the curb and Victoria recognized
his jeep immediately.  She quickly moved toward his vehicle, meandering around
a couple of absent-minded passengers who were clutching their luggage and
peering at the widescreen monitor that displayed the daily bus schedules. 

Joshua unlocked the doors and reached across the
push open the door for her.  He would have helped her with her bags too, but
she only had one carryall that was hanging from a loop off her shoulder.  He
studied her as she got into the car. 

She was wearing a T-shirt and jeans, her long
chestnut brown hair hung loose, down past her shoulders.  She had lost a little
weight since the last time he’d seen her—but she still had those amazing curves
that had always made him drool.  No anorexic model types for him, thank you. 
Joshua was the type of man who liked a woman with a little meat on her bones. 

“Vicki.”

“Hi Josh,” Victoria said, looking at him with big
brown eyes.  Her sunglasses were resting in a perch on top of her head.  Her
dark brown hair was hanging in loose waves down past her shoulders.  She looked
completely stressed out.  Her eyes were bloodshot and her normally vibrant,
tanned face was pale.  She looked jittery, her hands were shaking slightly—as
if she’d consumed one too many espressos.  She actually looked fragile. 

He watched wordlessly as Victoria locked the
passenger door and buckled her seatbelt.  Joshua then checked the rearview
mirror and waited for a speeding orange taxicab passed by on his left side,
before pulling away from the station. 

“Thank you Joshua, for picking me up.  I’m sorry
for calling you and just showing up unexpectedly like this.  I know I don’t
have a right to ask you for any help . . .  I just, I didn’t know what else to
do.  I didn’t know where else to go,” she said in a rush.

“Whoa, take a breath, slow down.  Why were you so
scared?  Was someone threatening you?” he asked, looking back at her quickly. 
She had to have been beyond terrified to leave Texas and seek him out in
California.

“I’m not sure.  It’s probably nothing, I’m
probably just overreacting.  But someone broke into my apartment.”

“What?” Joshua yelled.

“Yesterday morning, I came back to my apartment
from a meeting with my editor.  Someone had broken into my house.”

“What?  Wait, did someone hurt you?”  He took his
eyes away from the road briefly to take a hard look at her, to assure himself
that she didn’t have any injuries.

“No, no Joshua, I wasn’t there when they broke
in.  By the time I’d arrived back to my apartment, whoever had broken in had
already gone.”

“What was taken?”

“That’s just it.  Someone trashed my whole
apartment, but the only thing that was stolen was my computer.  My jewelry and
cash that I had in my bedroom were still there.  So it doesn’t seem like a
random robbery.  I’m not sure why they took my computer.  Maybe they wanted my
interview tapes?  But I hadn’t had a chance to digitize those yet.  I had the
original tapes with me for my meeting with Edward.”

“Edward?”

“Edward Linton.  He’s my boss at the
Dallas
Star Gazette
.”

“Did you contact the Dallas Police Department?”

“Yes.  I filed an incident report with the police
and they sent someone out to take fingerprints.  To be honest, I’m not hopeful
that they’ll find anything.  I mean, it could be nothing.  But I live in a very
safe area of Dallas and I’ve never had anything like this happen before.  I
mean, what are the odds that someone would break into my apartment the day
after Richard Henning was murdered—the day after I interviewed him?”

“Yeah, it’s not very likely,” Josh said.  Whoever
had broken into Vicki’s home and stolen her laptop didn’t sound like a
terrorist at least.  If a terrorist had been in Vicki’s apartment, Joshua was
certain that he’d be picking up a black suit to go to Vicki’s funeral right
about now.  So that meant that he still had to figure out who had broken into
her house and why.

“Why were you with Richard Henning?” he asked.

“I was interviewing him about his kidnapping for a
news article that I am writing for my weekly crime column.”

“Okay . . . but your column at the
Dallas Star
Gazette
is a local crime column.  Why were you writing a story on Henning’s
kidnapping in Pakistan?”

“Well, Richard Henning is from Texas and his
office is in Dallas.  So I thought it would be a good addition to my newspaper
article,” Victoria replied, looking out the window.

“Did your boss okay this story?”

“Well, not exactly . . .” she trailed off.

“Vicki,” Josh said.

And that’s all he had to say.  He knew Victoria
Sanchez.  He had loved this woman for two years of his life and for those two
years, they had been inseparable.  He and Victoria had surprisingly had a lot
in common.  They both loved to cook.  They both liked listening to classic rock
artists like Iron Butterfly, Eric Clapton, and Jimi Hendrix.  They had spent
many nights together, just a beer (a glass of wine for Victoria), great music,
and talking about anything and everything.  It had gotten to the point where
they could’ve completed each other’s thoughts.  So now, as she sat in his car
with him, Joshua could tell that she was holding back.

He glanced at her.  She was still quietly staring
out the window.  “Vicki, I can’t help you unless I know everything.  And in
order for me to know everything, you have to
tell
me everything.”

She turned to look at him, her hands shaking
slightly.  She cleared her throat, “You know, I’ve always wanted to be more. 
To do more, than just report the local news.  So when I heard about Richard
Henning’s abduction, I decided to look into it more on my own.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.  You can call it a hunch, I guess. 
Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.”

Joshua remained quiet as he stopped at a red
light.

Victoria continued, “I started investigating into
his shipping company, you know, the Henning Cooper Company?”

“What did you find out?”

“Well for starters, that the Henning Cooper
Company has some interesting client contracts.  One in particular is with this
business called Nava Drug Corp, which is based in Russia.”

“Uh huh.  So what’s so interesting about it?”
Joshua asked, taking his eyes off the highway in order to hazard a glance in
her direction.

“The company looks like it was created about ten
years ago.  The individuals associated with its management have had connections
to various members of the Russian mafia.”

“How did you find this out?”  This type of
information just could not have been found out on a company website.  And to
his knowledge, Victoria had never been to Russia.

“Let’s just say, I’ve been working some of my
sources really hard.”

“Sources?”

Victoria was silent for a moment and then she
said, “One of my contacts also told me that Richard Henning was under a DEA
investigation.  Well, at least his company is under a federal investigation.”

What the hell.
  “Who told you that
Victoria?  Did you tell Henning that?”

“Josh you know I can’t reveal my source’s identity
to you.  But my contact is extremely reliable and works in law enforcement.  I
thought that maybe there’s a connection with Nava Drug Corp.”