Corps Justice Boxed Set: Books 1-3: Back to War, Council of Patriots, Prime Asset (36 page)

Cal thought of what to say
as he studied the other Marine. The young man looked fit and
muscular. He probably stood just over six feet with dirty blonde
hair and beard. Cal guessed that the guy couldn’t be more than
thirty years old.
Where’d this guy come
from?

Daniel turned back from the kitchen and
spoke. “How’d you get involved with the Russians? Gambling
debts?”

Cal was totally confused. “You know those
guys?”

“I know WHO they are. They’re hired thugs.
They split their time between security duty and breaking knee
caps,” Daniel explained.

“Let’s back up a minute, man. First off, I’m
Cal and this is my buddy Brian. He was a corpsman so we all call
him Doc.”

The three men shook hands. “I’m Daniel
Briggs.”

“I guess we forgot to say thanks, Daniel,”
Brian added. “How’d you happen to be nearby anyways?”

Daniel took a second to respond. How had he
known? How did he ever know where danger was? Some might call it a
gift. To Daniel it often felt like a curse. He didn’t know how to
explain but he tried.

“You guys spend any time over in Iraq or
Afghanistan?” he asked.

Both men nodded.

“You ever have a hard time sleeping?”

“I don’t, but I have plenty of friends that
do,” Cal offered.

“Same here,” Brian added.

Daniel paused again, praying that he was
doing the right thing in telling these strangers about some of his
darkest secrets.

“Well, I’m one of the ones that couldn’t
sleep. Tried alcohol for while. Didn’t take. Neither did the
prescriptions. Then I found God. Now I help other people.”

Brian and Cal looked at each other. Who was
this guy? He’d obviously had some post-traumatic issues. They both
knew that a lot of returning veterans had PTSD symptoms. Some of
the most successful found healing through counseling and
religion.

“So what are you doing on the streets of Las
Vegas?” Cal asked.

“Long story short, I felt led here. I’m from
Florida. Hopped on a bus one day. Vegas was where my bus ticket ran
out. I’ve spent the last few months doing odd jobs during the day
and walking the streets at night. I make sure tourists aren’t
getting taken advantage of. The thieves and con artists are pretty
easy to spot if you know what you’re looking for. I’ve just been
waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” Cal and Brian asked at
the same time.

“Something else. I know God will tell me
when it’s time to move on.”

Cal respected the man’s conviction. “So what
about those guys tonight? How’d you know they were coming after
us?”

“Vegas is actually a pretty small town. Once
you’ve been here for a spell, you start to know the characters.
I’ve seen these guys on collecting duty before. They work for that
Japanese-themed hotel behind the Bellagio. Usually it’s just two of
them. When I saw them tonight, they looked like they were on a
mission. I decided to follow. You know the rest,” Daniel
finished.

Cal and Brian stood silent for a second. So
they’d been detected at Zimmer’s hotel. But what was the motive?
Questions started rolling around in Cal’s head. How’d they pick out
Cal and Brian? Why come after them now? Who told them? Cal had a
sneaking suspicion that Congressman Brandon Zimmer had opened his
big fucking mouth. He’d have to have a little talk with the
arrogant prick.

Cal filed away his thoughts for later. Back
to Daniel Briggs. What do you say to a guy that looks like a crazy
mountain man and spends most nights playing hero on the streets of
Sin City?

Both friends were obviously curious about
the man’s past.

“So you were a scout sniper in the
Corps?”

“Yeah. I’d never picked up a rifle before
boot camp. My drill instructors said I was a natural,” Daniel
explained without a hint of arrogance. “Once I finished up the
School of Infantry in Lejeune, I got picked up to go to sniper
school.”

“How many tours did you do?” asked
Brian.

“Iraq once and three times to Afghanistan.
Spent some time with MARSOC too.”

So this guy had been around the block a few
times. Cal would have to find out some more details from his
contact at Headquarters Marine Corps.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was your
PTSD trigger?” Brian asked.

It didn’t look like Daniel minded the
question. If he’d already admitted to having sleeping issues, Brian
figured he’d probably open up about the rest. It didn’t hurt that
Cal and Brian had similar backgrounds: brothers-in-arms.

“It wasn’t the killing. I never had a
problem with that.” He paused to gather his thoughts. “The guys we
took down were bad dudes. Most were insurgents from across the
border. Some of the best shooting I ever did was over-watch for
battalion. I knew I was saving Marines’ lives. It was my last tour
when things went to shit. Some of our teams were getting attached
to special ops groups. They wanted to double the number of snipers
they were taking into the zone. So we’re on this op in the middle
of shitland Afghanistan. Real nasty urban area. Full of Taliban and
Al Qaeda fighters. We’d just inserted with a team of four SEALs. As
soon as we fast roped to the ground and the helo banks left,
insurgents took it out with a couple of RPGs. The SEALs told us to
find some high ground to get a better vantage point, and they took
off for the insurgent position. We tried to get indirect fire or
close air support, but higher wouldn’t allow it because of the
large civilian population. Me and my spotter got into one of the
compounds and found the best view we could. We watched as those
SEALs leapfrogged all the way to the enemy pos. It was pitch black,
but we could see that two of the guys were already wounded. Those
brave sons-a-bitches kept assaulting and cussing out higher over
the radio. I’d just setup my Barrett .50 cal as I watched all four
SEALs get mowed down by a truck-mounted machine gun. I started
unloading on the fuckers. It was like shooting fish in a barrel.
They kept streaming out, trying to get the bodies of our
SEALs.”

“Pretty soon they realized where our shots
were coming from. They turned their fire on us. I have no idea how
long I was shooting. My spotter, Grant, got hit in the shoulder
almost right away. He kept calling out shots though. Finally some
fucker gets smart and they start lobbing mortar rounds at us. We
started pulling back into one of the only two story buildings in
the area. Grant was wounded but still doing okay. Then he got hit
with an AK round in the leg. Went right through his femur. Blood
everywhere. I lugged my .50 cal on one shoulder and dragged Grant
under the other arm. We get in the bottom floor of this building
and all hell broke loose. It sounded like two or three mortar tubes
thumping rounds onto us. We somehow got to the lowest part of the
building before it collapsed.”

“I don’t know how I didn’t get crushed.
Grant did though. His other leg was completely smashed under the
rubble. Grant tried not to scream as his leg pumped more and more
blood onto the dirt floor. I applied a quick tourniquet and tried
to make him comfortable. I remember telling him that someone would
be there soon. Man, was I wrong.”

“For the next two days we listened quietly
as the insurgents searched the rubble pile. I don’t know how they
didn’t get to us. I could even hear the fuckers cheering. Found out
later that they’d mutilated the SEALs’ bodies and hung ‘em up
outside where we were trapped.”

“Our radio got lost in the explosion, so we
were shit out of luck there. I kept telling Grant that we just had
to stay quiet and some of our boys would be there soon. He was
delirious with pain for a day. I tried to keep him awake but he
finally passed out. A day later, I couldn’t find a pulse.”

“He died in my arms. We’d been friends since
boot camp. I was the best man at his wedding. I barely had a
scratch on me. A day later, I heard a lot of firing and then troops
talking English. I screamed and screamed until they pinpointed
where I was. They brought in the engineers and got us out. I found
out later that the enemy had been waiting for us. Apparently some
American politician had opened his mouth and word got to the right
people on the other side. We didn’t have a chance.”

“I spent a lot of time afterwards wondering
why. I’d drink my way into a dark tunnel and wonder: why not me
instead of Grant? Why did he have to leave his wife and kid? Why do
politicians leak secrets? The answer I found was simple: It’s not
up to me. The Man upstairs has some kind of plan. Maybe he was
saving me for something. All I can do now is try my best and live
up to the second chance.”

Cal and Brian stood quietly, digesting the
story.

“So how do you sleep now?” asked Cal.

“Like a baby most nights. I still have bad
dreams every once in a while. Mostly they’re memories of Grant
slowly dying in my arms, repeating his wife’s name over and over.
He looks more like an angel in my dreams now.”

“I appreciate you telling us. We’ve been in
the shit a few times, too. How about you come have a drink with us
so we can thank you properly?” asked Cal.

“I don’t drink alcohol anymore, but sure.
How about tomorrow night?”

They exchanged contact information and Cal
promised to call Daniel the next day to confirm. Cal and Brian said
their goodbyes and walked outside.

“You think we should change our hotel room
now?” Brian asked sarcastically.

Chapter 16

Las Vegas,
Nevada

9:30pm, September 16th

The large bearded Russian stood almost at
attention. Ishi Nakamura paced back and forth in front of the
giant.

“How is it that you let these two men get
away?” Ishi asked once again.

“I told you, Mr. Nakamura. We were not
expecting the third man. We aslo did not know the capabilities of
the targets. That information could have been useful. I now have
two men in hospital,” grumbled the hired thug.

“I don’t care about your men, you idiot. We
pay you a lot of money to take care of such simple tasks. I still
can’t believe five military-trained men couldn’t take down two
targets,” Ishi continued as he paced.

“Technically, it was three m…”

“Shut up! Just shut up!” Ishi screamed. “Now
I want you to be ready the next time I call. If you need to find
more men, do it. Meanwhile, I’ll clean up this mess.”

Ishi dreaded the next conversation with his
father. Nakamura-san would not be amused.

+++

Cal and Brian called Neil as soon as they
left Daniel’s apartment. He’d get them another suite at the
Venetian by the time they packed their gear. It was a little
farther away, but owned by a friend of the company.

“The reservation will be under your Alpha
aliases,” Neil instructed. Each operator at SSI was assigned three
aliases (Alpha, Bravo and Charlie) for contingencies. “I suggest
you boys get some rest for tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Cal retorted. “We’ll see you
tomorrow, Neil.”

He replaced the phone in his pocket and
followed Brian through the door at the Cosmopolitan.

“You still happy you tagged along, Doc?”

“Who me? I’m used to your crazy adventures
by now, man. What’s next? Naked stripper assassins parachuting
through our glass windows at the Venetian?” quipped Brian.

“I sure as hell hope not. You’d be too
distracted by the naked girls to defend yourself.”

“Very funny, jackass.”

They got in and out of their room quickly.
There really hadn’t been time to unpack so grabbing their bags was
easy. Cal put the Do Not Disturb sign on the outside of the door.
They’d let the reservation run its course for the next two days,
just in case.

Cal led the way down the back staircase and
headed for the service exit.

+++

Daniel Briggs knelt next to his bed. The
adrenaline finally seeped from his system; he was exhausted but
happy. He took a moment to say a quick prayer. When he finished, he
stripped down to his boxer briefs and fell right to sleep.

Chapter 17

Las Vegas,
Nevada

7:08am, September 17th

Congressman Zimmer and MSgt Trent arrived
late the night before. It was a bright morning that promised to be
clear and beautiful. Not a cloud in the sky.

Zimmer padded into the living area just
after 7:00am wearing some gym shorts and a t-shirt. Trent had to
admit that the man didn’t look like a pansy. He seemed to be in
good shape. Maybe in another life he could’ve been in the
military.

Trent was shirtless but already dressed in
gym shorts and running shoes. He’d sprawled his massive frame over
the long couch overlooking the outdoor pool. Creeping up on the big
four oh, Willy Trent was still as fit as any professional athlete.
At one time, he’d been drafted into the NFL. He soon found another
calling with the Marines.

“You sleep okay, Top?”

“Just fine, sir.”

“You ready to hit the gym in a few
minutes?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll throw on a t-shirt and we
can go.”

Both men finished getting ready then headed
to the workout facility.

+++

An hour later, they headed back to their
suite.

“I don’t know about you, Top, but I needed
that,” stated a completely sweat-soaked Zimmer.

“Yes, sir. Always nice to start the day off
with a good workout.”

“What time are we meeting Cal this
morning?”

Trent looked at his watch. “He called while
we were in the gym and pushed it back an hour. Apparently they had
a little situation last night. He’s trying to get a read on it
before we meet.”

“What kind of situation?” asked Zimmer.

Trent shrugged. “He wouldn’t tell me over
the phone. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”