Corps Justice Boxed Set: Books 1-3: Back to War, Council of Patriots, Prime Asset (48 page)

No one had an answer. What they didn’t know
was that there would soon be another candidate in the race for
President.

+++

After calling SSI headquarters and updating
Travis and his staff, the four men walked down to Neil’s suite.
They were all energized by the recent revelation. These Japanese
guys had some balls.

As they walked, one question
kept nagging at Cal:
Where was the
leak?

+++

The politician smiled into the mirror.
Tomorrow would be a very big day. As long as Nakamura kept his end
of the bargain, he’d have the election wrapped up in a matter of
days.

Chapter 32

Las Vegas,
Nevada

3:17pm, September 18th

Kazuo Nakamura called the number for the
third time. It wasn’t like his prized assassin not to check in.
Still no answer.

Ishi looked on with interest. For years,
Matsura had been a thorn in his side. The man never said much, but
Ishi could see his influence growing. Sometimes he felt like his
father treated the assassin more like a favored son. Secretly, he
hoped the man disappeared.

“Have you tried him again?” Nakamura asked
his son.

“Yes, Father. He’s not answering calls or
texts.”

“Maybe he is busy disposing of the
bodies.”

“I think we need to assume the worst,
Father.”

Nakamura shot his son a murderous glare.
“What do you mean?”

“With all due respect, Father, I think we’ve
underestimated our adversaries again.”

“I’ve sent that man out alone to kill five
men at once before! He does not fail!”

Ishi bowed to his father, silently relishing
the old man’s lack of composure. “I know he has never failed,
Father. Maybe he finally met his match.”

Kazuo Nakamura paced back and forth, hoping
his phone would ring. “We had them within our grasp! We’ve taken
care of the Secret Service and the FBI. How is it that Stokes is
evading us?”

Ishi knew he had to steer the conversation
back to the task at hand. “Father, tomorrow will be the start of a
glorious new path for our people. Perhaps we should focus on that,
instead.”

His father looked at him with an uncertain
gaze. “Of course. Of course, you’re right, my son. We must get back
to finalizing our plans for tomorrow’s festivities.”

Ishi nodded and pulled out the chair for his
father. Both men sat down and returned to the drawing of the Las
Vegas Convention Center.

+++

Cal checked the caller ID on the dead
assassin’s phone. “Same number. Did you get a lock on the signal
yet?”

Neil shook his head. “I don’t know how
they’re doing it, but I can’t pinpoint where the call is coming
from.”

“I thought you had that super duper tracking
system.”

Patel shot his friend an exasperated look.
“I do. Problem is, the number isn’t registered anywhere. It’s like
a ghost.”

“Maybe I should call him and ask him where
he is,” Cal offered.

Instead of replying, Neil gave Cal the
finger.

“Take it easy on him, Cal.” Trent moved
closer. “But maybe you’re on to something. Hey, Neil, would it help
if Cal got the caller on the line?”

“Of course, but once the guy hears it’s not
the dead dude, he’s gonna hang up. I need him on the line for more
than a second.”

“Maybe Cal can piss the guy off and get him
to start talking. How long do you need him on the line?”

Neil wasn’t sure. He’d never run into a
number that he couldn’t track. “I don’t know. Maybe thirty
seconds?”

Trent turned to Cal. “You think you can get
under the guy’s skin?”

Stokes grinned. “That’s my specialty. Just
ask Neil.”

Patel gave him the finger again, then
refocused on the tracking program.

+++

Five minutes later, everybody was ready.
Gaucho had two of his four man teams loaded into their vehicles in
the parking garage. Neil sat poised at his computer, ready to track
the call. Cal picked up the dead man’s phone. “Everyone ready?”
There were murmurs of assent around the room.

Cal nodded and dialed the number.

+++

Nakamura glanced at his phone. The call was
from Matsura. He breathed a sigh of relief and answered.

“Where are you?”

“In hell,” Cal replied.

Nakamura’s eyes went wide. “Who is
this?”

“Somebody you don’t want to fuck with.”

“Where is my employee?”

“Oh, you mean the dead guy?”

Nakamura couldn’t believe what he was
hearing. Had they really killed Matsura?

“Where is he?”

“I told you. He’s probably having a nice
little conversation with the devil right now.”

“You will pay for this! I will unleash
all…”

“Now listen here, asshole. I think it’s
about time you and I had a little chat. I’m sick of having to kick
the crap out of all your goons.”

Ishi kept motioning for his father to end
the call. The manufacturer had promised it was untraceable, but it
was stupid to take the chance. The elder Nakamura ignored him. His
pride demanded he confront the cocky American.

“So you are prepared to have me release all
our evidence to the authorities?”

“That’s where you keep misunderstanding. I
could give a shit about a bunch of politicians. Let them fend for
themselves. What do you really have? Some pictures of old guys
hanging out and talking? That’s all retired politicians do!”

Nakamura didn’t know how to respond. His
contact had assured him that the contents of the envelope would
scare off the meddlers.

“I think you are the one misunderstanding
me. There will soon be a shift in your puny world. An avalanche is
about to cover your little company. I will destroy you.”

Cal laughed. “You’re welcome to try, buddy.
Thing is, next time why don’t you show up to the party instead of
sending one of your cronies?”

Ishi finally grabbed the phone out of his
father’s hand and ended the call.

“What are you doing?!” Kazuo Nakamura
screamed.

“I’m saving you from making a big mistake,
Father. Is it not you who is always telling me to keep my emotions
out of business? We are too close to victory to lose our
tempers.”

Nakamura took a deep breath. His son was
right. He wasn’t used to having things not go his way. He couldn’t
remember the last time he’d failed at anything. It was an
unsettling feeling.

“I’m sorry, son. Thank you for putting
things in perspective.”

Ishi nodded and handed the phone back to his
father. “Should we go back to our planning?”

Nakamura nodded and returned his attention
to the Las Vegas Convention Center diagram.

+++

“Did you get him?” asked Cal,
expectantly.

“No.”

“What do you mean? I swear I had him on the
line for over a minute, Neil.”

“I know, but they’re using some really new
technology. I didn’t even get a blip in my program.”

“Shit,” Cal muttered to himself.

Zimmer walked over to the pair. “Did you
really mean what you said about not caring about the
politicians?”

Stokes looked into the man’s eyes. “We
weren’t talking about the list, Congressman. It’s something else.”
They’d chosen to keep any talk of the Council away from Zimmer.

“Something you can’t tell me about?”

“Yeah.”

“Look, I’m in the middle of this thing too.
I think you need to…”

Cal’s eyes flared. “I think you need to
remember that we’re here to save YOUR ass, Congressman. The last
time I checked, I wasn’t the one who got caught with his pants
down. Last time I checked, me and my guys are the ones getting shot
at. Now, if you want me to lock you in a room until this is over,
I’m happy to do it.”

“How dare you…?” Zimmer started to respond
before Trent stepped between the two.

“Alright, fellas. How about we all take a
breather and chill out. I think we could all use a little food and
a good stiff drink.”

Cal and Zimmer continued to stare at each
other. Brandon was the first to walk out of the room, followed by
Trent.

Stokes watched the two men go. He couldn’t
wait to be done with Zimmer.

Chapter 33

Las Vegas,
Nevada

4:42pm, September 18th

Cal dialed Andy’s cell number.

“Hey, I thought you would’ve called
earlier.”

“Yeah, sorry. Had a little
unexpected…incident,” Cal explained.

“No problem. You want me to come your way or
can you come meet me?”

“Where are they putting you guys up?”

“We’re staying at the MGM Grand.”

“I’ll come see you. Mind if I bring a couple
friends?”

“Sure.”

Cal woke Brian, snoozing in the
recliner.

“Hey, we’re going to see Andy.” Brian just
nodded. “You wanna come too, Daniel?”

“I’m in.”

“Alright, let’s go in five minutes.”

Everyone prepared to leave. They wouldn’t be
walking the streets of Vegas unarmed anymore. This time Cal and
Brian would be bringing their security badges and concealed carry
permits. It was one of the perks of SSI’s VIP protection
division.

Cal knew he was running a risk by hitting
the street again, but he had to warn Andy. Besides, he had his
lucky charm with him: Daniel Briggs. He’d started analyzing how he
could best utilize the sniper in the future. Maybe Briggs would
become his vigilant companion like Travis Haden to his father and
Todd Dunn to Travis. In his line of work, Cal could never have
enough expert warriors around.

Five minutes later, the trio walked out the
door. Each one hoped they wouldn’t run into more Ichiban goons.

+++

They arrived at the MGM Grand without
incident. Instead of trying to take back routes, they’d decided to
walk through the most congested public areas. With the Democratic
National Convention starting the next day, the sidewalks were
overflowing with revelers.

Cal wondered how the convention attendees
would feel if they knew about the imminent threat to the big party.
It was par for the course and he knew it. Most Americans lived in
blissful ignorance knowing nothing about the silent forces of good
and evil at work all around them.

Andy opened the hotel room door and invited
everyone in. Cal introduced Daniel to the Marine Captain. The two
men shook hands and did the Marine size-up.

“Can I get you guys anything?” Andy
asked.

“I’d kill for a coffee and a beer,” Cal
sighed.

“In that order?”

“How about just the beer?”

Andy nodded and took orders from the other
two. Once they’d gotten their drinks and taken a seat, Cal told the
whole Vegas story to his good friend.

Capt. Andrews didn’t interrupt; he just
shook his head in amazement time and time again. Cal finally
finished. “So I really wanted to make sure you got a heads-up. As
you can see, there’s some squirrely shit going on around here.”

“That’s the understatement of the year,”
Andy commented.

“Have any ideas? Anything we haven’t thought
of?”

Andy took another swig of beer and
contemplated the question. There were too many possibilities to
consider.

“I’m just thinking out loud here, but what
if it’s all a wild goose chase? What if they’re throwing you guys
red herrings just to keep you away from what they’re really trying
to do?”

Cal shook his head. “I don’t think so. This
is shaping up to be something big. We really think the Convention
is the trigger.”

Andy wasn’t convinced. During his time with
the Silent Drill Team, he’d seen the capabilities of the Secret
Service and the FBI. They’d probably spent months investigating
every scumbag in a twenty-mile radius of Las Vegas. These guys knew
how to do their homework. The last thing they wanted on their watch
was a dead President. There wouldn’t be a weapon anywhere near the
leader of the Free World.

It was Daniel who broke the silence.
“Captain, how about anything out of the ordinary? Is there anything
they’ve asked you guys to do during your routine that you don’t
typically do?”

“Well, most of our routines are pretty
similar. Sometimes our entrance is a little different. Like this
time, they’re keeping us a secret. You know how they have those big
stages for the Super Bowl, where the singer comes up through the
floor? Well, they wanted to do that, with a twist.”

“What kind of a twist?” Daniel asked,
suddenly feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

“They’ve got this huge trailer that they’re
gonna pull out. Think of a semi trailer, only like four times as
big. So they put us in there, a cannon booms over the speaker
system, the sides of the trailer flip down, we’re standing there
ready to kick ass, and then we march out onto the floor. It’s
actually pretty cool. We’ve been practicing it for weeks. We’ll
have one last run-through tomorrow morning.”

They were all impressed. Twenty-four Marines
in dress blues made a beautiful sight. The Silent Drill Team as the
surprise entertainment would be a big hit.

“Who’ve you been coordinating that with?”
Cal questioned.

“Some woman on the President’s event
planning staff.”

“Do you remember her name?”

“Sure. Janet Riley.”

“Why do I know that name?” Cal thought
aloud.

“Because she’s on the blackmail list,”
Daniel answered.

+++

Janet Riley, a pretty brunette from Los
Angeles, pored over the itinerary for the upcoming convention.
Taking the reins in the early spring, Riley brought her Hollywood
talent and flash to the President’s campaign. Over the past fifteen
years, Janet had climbed tooth and nail up the competitive Los
Angeles public relations ladder. She’d landed her dream job two
years earlier as head of PR for one of the largest studios in L.A.
The job included the added benefit of rubbing elbows with some of
the biggest influencers in the entertainment industry. During the
day she submitted news releases and coordinated publicity for the
studio’s biggest stars. By night, she networked with Hollywood
elite at movie premiers and after parties. She was very good at her
job.