Viper Team Seven (The Viper Team Seven Series Book 1) (10 page)

Smith walked up
to the Secret Service agents guarding the doors of the EEOB, and whipped out
his White House badge. They let him in, but when Parks tried to enter, the
agents scrutinized his badge with such intensity, Parks figured they thought it
was a fake. Fortunately Smith intervened and told them to let Parks in. They reluctantly
complied, and Parks caught up to the National Security Advisor, who, as a fast
walker, was already halfway down the hall.

The duo reached
the end of the hall and then turned down another long hallway. Smith and Parks then
ascended a long staircase which led to the second floor. The EEOB was a grand structure.
Its building site and surrounding land was over 11 ½ football fields long in
total area, and it took over $10,000,000 to build it. Designed by Supervising
Architect of the Treasury Alfred Mullett, and the chief designer, Richard
Ezdorf, the structure took seventeen years to complete; from 1871-1888. Inside
the Eisenhower Executive Office Building – formerly called the Old Executive Office
Building – were over five hundred and fifty rooms, with sixty-five staircases,
eighty-five fireplaces, a basement, and five floors packed with offices.

Again the
National Security Advisor led Parks to a hallway that led to the right, where
they traveled to the middle office in the hall. Smith opened the door and let
Parks enter first, and then he came in and shut the door behind him. The office
was spacious and the windows in it allowed for a magnificent view of the
greening lawn and much of the city. Parks figured it would be amazing at night
to see all of the city’s lights illuminated from these windows.

Smith brought
Parks’ attention to six men seated in chairs and on couches at the rear of the
office. One was facing his back to Parks, but on command of the man beside him,
he turned his chair around and faced forward.

“Allow me to
introduce you to your team, Major Parks,” the National Security Advisor
explained, stepping toward the first man on the left.

Parks followed
him.

“Major Parks,
this man in front of you will be your deputy commander. He’s one of the best
counterterrorism agents in the whole CIA. His name is Solomon.”

The tall, lean,
black man rose to his feet. Standing 6’ 3” and weighing about 190 pounds, he
was decked out in a loose, blue, turtleneck sweater, black slacks, and dress
shoes. He was thirty-five years old, but looked much younger. His face was
adorned with a faint goatee. His head was shaved almost bald, and he had a
rather large nose. When he spoke, he had a very thick Jamaican accent.

“Solomon who?”
Parks asked, extending his hand toward the man.

Solomon shook it
warmly, and said, “Solomon Solomon X. At your service, Major Parks.”

Had Parks heard
him right?
Solomon Solomon X?
He must be hearing things. Parks put his
ear closer and asked again what his name was.

Solomon replied
loud and clear, “Solomon Solomon X. And no, you’re not hearing things. My first
and last names are exactly the same. It’s a long story, but I can brief you on
it later.”  

“I see,” Parks
replied, smiling and releasing Solomon’s hand. “I am Major Keith Parks of the United States Marine Corps.”

Solomon nodded.
“I know Mr. Parks. Welcome to the Nation’s capital.”

Parks thanked
him and followed Smith to the next man in line. He was Greg Norse with the FBI.
The men that followed were, Phillip Marler with the CIA, an intelligence
expert; and then Jim Corley, an FBI agent; Jason Samuels, FBI; and Eric Lee
with the CIA; respectively. All seemed to be nice enough guys, and from what Parks
could tell, a couple of them appeared to be very open to work with an “outsider.”  

Smith then
excused himself and explained that he had to get back to his office and take
care of paperwork. He left Parks with the order to meet with him in his office
at the White House whenever he finished the meeting with his team.

The silence that
followed was almost embarrassing, but thankfully Solomon broke the ice. “I hear
you’re pretty good, Major Parks. I guess that Medal of Honor on your chest says
so.” Solomon was in no way mocking Parks, but only trying to become better
acquainted.

Parks was self-conscious,
but he calmly responded, “I appreciate that Mr. Solomon; I hope I won’t let you
down.”

“Please, call me
Solomon, I don’t like my last name being used,” he joked. The whole room
erupted in laughter, mostly from pent up nerves.

“Since no one’s
going to say anything, Keith,” Solomon started, “I think I’ll explain to you
why my name is so unique.”

Parks was
shocked that he’d just used his first name, but then again, this was not the
Marine Corps, things were done differently here. Parks nodded his approval and
sat down in a chair that was close by.

“I am the tenth
person in my family line with this name; it was a tradition to pass it on to
the first-born boy in the family. Well, I am the first of ten children, so I
was the lucky one that got the name. Solomon Solomon I was a freed slave – better
put would be an escaped slave – during the late 1700s. Years down the road he
became a successful man in Maryland, but when he first came to the state
looking for work he was often asked what his name was. He always replied, ‘Solomon.’
Well, when he tried to get a job at a store, the owner asked what his name was.
The man was already skeptical of hiring him, so when he found out that he only
had a first name, the man threw him out of his store, thinking he was some
street bum. Grandpa Solomon couldn’t believe that a second name could mean
getting a job or not. So, he decided to make his own second name right then and
there. Now he was not very, uh, brilliant, I guess you’d say. The only name he
could think of for a last name was his first. He then named himself, Solomon
Solomon. So Grandpa Solomon went into another store and told the owner his new
name. Well, the store owner thought he was crazy, but for some reason he
actually hired him.”

 Solomon was
deep in his story and Parks was listening intently. “Grandpa Solomon was so
excited about his new name and what it’d done for him, that when he married, he
named his first son Solomon Solomon II. And so, over two hundred some-odd years
and eight first born Solomon sons later, I received my name.”

Parks thought
that was an incredible story. Everyone did, even though most of them had heard
it dozens of times before. Solomon was pleased now, so he began to tell another
story, but Parks had to cut him off.

“Sorry guys, but
I think we need to get some things straight today,” he declared, standing to
his feet and clearing his throat.

Monday, March 17
^th
– 1700 hours

Jerusalem, Israel

Head of the
Mossad, Judah Hazeroth, burst into the prime minister of Israel’s personal office. A lead on a terrorist had just come in from intelligence sources
in Lebanon. The source stated that a probable suicide bomber had just crossed
the border from Lebanon into Israel. The lead was red hot, not more than five
minutes old. But those were precious minutes Hazeroth didn’t have. He couldn’t
believe it had taken that long for the sources to contact up the chain of
command to finally reach him. What was their problem? This wasn’t a game or a
drill, this was real, and every second was as precious as gold.

Upon taking the
office of the Mossad’s head, Hazeroth had worked relentlessly to beef up
intelligence sources and sleeper agents in the countries surrounding Israel. He had always been a firm believer that what happened on the outside was what counted
most. He was usually right. What happened behind the curtain was often what
would do the most damage to his country. Lebanon had been a prime target for
his sleepers lately. The nation had been up in arms for the past two months.
The Lebanese had offered a conditional peace treaty to Israel, the United Non-Nuclear Plan, (UNON) and the prime minister of Israel had denied it. It was
for good reason though. The Lebanese government’s new “peace plan” had demanded
that Israel destroy all its nuclear warheads and cut its InterContinental
Ballistic Missile (ICBM) supply by nearly half. But that wasn’t all. It also
ordered Israel to withdraw from the Golan Heights and to give that land to the
Lebanese government, and then make plans to unite military forces with the
Lebanese. Israel had laughed at the outrageous proposal as it was all one-sided.
That was no peace agreement that was suicide, pure and simple. But Lebanon had not seen it that way. They had been outraged at the out-and-out denial Israel had done to their long-planned peace treaty. But Israel was firm. They wanted peace
with the surrounding countries, but not at the expense of ridding their only
defenses.

Lebanon was a long-time enemy of Israel. Ever since Hazeroth could remember, the two countries had
been at odds. Not always at war, but there was always friction. The bomb finally
exploded one day, and the 1982 Lebanon War – better known to Israelis as
Operation Peace of the Galilee – had begun. Israeli military forces invaded
southern Lebanon in June, as retaliation to the attempted and unsuccessful
assassination of Israel’s United Kingdom ambassador, Shlomo Argov. The war had begun
in June, and lasted until September of the same year. Israeli forces had moved
into and held southern Lebanon, but upon yet another peace treaty they backed
out and the war came to a close.

Likewise in 2006,
the Second Lebanon War, between the Israelis and Hezbollah – a fancy named
terrorist group being “hired guns” for Lebanon – erupted into a deadly fight.
That war was only stopped by the United Nations Security Council Resolution
1701, and a desperate conference held in Rome. Fifteen different nations
attended the conference and heard the Siniora Plan being presented by the
Lebanese prime minister. To sum things up, the plan was merely another treaty
asking for peace between two warring countries. But the plan was passed, and Israel and Lebanon ended the war.

In early 2013, one month after American President Winnfield had taken office,
the Lebanese moved military units into the Golan Heights after the Israeli
foreign minister had been killed by terrorists. The Israelis hadn’t known for
sure if Lebanon had ordered the assassination or not, but the Lebanese military’s
presence in the Golan was enough for them to declare war and assume they had
ordered the attack. Israel had been frantic to drive them out. Five days later,
the Lebanese had been driven back into southern Lebanon, but this time, the
Israelis didn’t take over their land. Upon the advice of the prime minister’s
senior advisors, Israel prepared to launch an ICBM into Beirut, the capital of Lebanon. Several other missiles were being prepared to be launched at the country’s key
power plants. The American President had completely backed the Israelis’
actions, and offered his assistance wherever necessary. But Israel could handle this one on their own. March 1
^st
, 2013, an ICBM streaked through the
sky toward Beirut, followed by several others headed for different cities. The
missiles had not been equipped with nuclear warheads, but if this operation
failed to put the Lebanese in their place, another missile, with a warhead,
would be launched at Lebanon. Fortunately, the first missiles made the point.
The ICBMs took out Lebanon’s major power plants, and the one that was headed
for Beirut hit dead center. Lebanon was in the dark and without power for days,
and they had crawled back to Israel on their knees, begging for mercy. Israel had consented to making a truce, but still no peace treaty had been signed between
the two countries. Now, an intel source claimed that a terrorist had crossed
the Lebanese border into Israel. No one was taking chances. Hazeroth could only
think that this was Lebanon’s way of getting back at Israel.

*          *          *

Benjamin Aziza,
the prime minister of Israel, snapped his head up from the papers he was studying
and stared at Hazeroth. The prime minister opened his mouth to speak, but the head
of the Mossad spoke first.

“Mr. Prime
Minister, we have a possible bad situation on our hands.” Without waiting for a
reply, he bulldozed on with his briefing. “One of our intel sources in Lebanon just informed me that a terrorist has crossed the border into Israel. He is presumed armed
and dangerous; we need to take him out immediately. We have no choice.”

Aziza put up his
hand to stop him. “Mr. Hazeroth, slow down, please. Did the source say who the
terrorist was?”

“Yes. He’s
believed to be Fadi Qasim – a deadly terrorist found responsible for the
assassination of Israeli Foreign Minister Jeshua, which took place a year ago.”

“Do we have a
file on him?”

“We do. I can
have that for you immediately if you wish. But I must stress, there isn’t much
time. He could pull off his mission at any moment.”

“Get me the
files on him quickly. I want to know everything about him, and get Mossad teams
set up at a good intercepting point. Tell them to stand by and prepare for
action. But understand, if we attack Qasim, I want him dead,” the prime
minister commanded. “One more thing, contact the source and verify that this
really is Qasim. Get to it!”

The aging
Hazeroth obeyed quickly. At fifty-five, he was still in great shape, but in the
back of his mind, he knew he was getting a little too old for this kind of job.
The excitement of taking out the enemy was wearing thin, and his desire for a
peaceful State of Israel was growing.

In the next
minute, the prime minister and his highest advisors were gathered, and Hazeroth
was rapidly briefing them on the terrorist threat. Hazeroth informed them that the
suspect sighted by the source had a description which matched that of Fadi
Qasim.

Qasim was an
Iranian terrorist working for Hezbollah, who, sure enough, had taken a large part
in killing the foreign minister of Israel, just a year ago. The Mossad had not been
able to pin down who had killed the foreign minister until a month had passed,
when they finally found a man who had witnessed the incident. Without
hesitation, he had given the Mossad a description of the man whom he had seen kill
Jeshua. Hazeroth had then matched the description to a file he had that best
fit the details. After they knew who was to blame, the Mossad had hunted Qasim,
but to no avail. He had vanished into thin air. Now he was coming back into Israel, and no one was about to let him get a step further.

“Is there any
doubt in your mind that this is Fadi Qasim?” the prime minister asked.

“There is no
doubt. He is definitely the same man. I request your permission to take him
out,” Hazeroth stated boldly.

“Are the teams
in position?”

“They are. They
can strike at your command.”

“How many men do
you have on the field, Judah?”

“Twenty of the
best agents, Mr. Prime Minister. We need to act fast though. Do I have your permission
to let them proceed?”

“Go ahead, but
make sure he is neutralized. Tell the agents to search his body and vehicle
thoroughly.”

Without a further word, the head of the Mossad walked out of the room. If
everything went well, they should have the job done in a few minutes. Hazeroth
prayed that the agents would be successful, and that this terrorist wasn’t a
diversion of some kind.

*          *          *

The lead Mossad agent, Hadid Uzza, made sure his men were in position. His
Quick Reaction Team (QRT) had been flung into action without warning only
minutes ago, and now great responsibility rested on his shoulders. Fadi Qasim
supposedly was to be coming down this low-key town road via a small car in less
than a minute, and it was Uzza’s job to take him out. Uzza had posted two snipers
on a local rooftop who were ready to blow the car’s tires out whenever it came
by. Next, five men would open fire from the building that the snipers were on
top of, and pin Qasim in his vehicle by firing nonstop from machine guns. Three
more agents on the other side of the street would fire rockets at the vehicle by
a Shoulder-Launched Multipurpose Assault Weapon (SMAW), in an attempt to
explode it and its occupant. It would work; it had to. But if it didn’t, there
were nine other agents standing by, acting as backup, not a hundred feet from
the rooftop where Uzza was laid out. He was the lead sniper, and was positioned
across from the other two. The firing of his first shot was the signal for the
other two snipers to open fire. However, Uzza’s main job was to make sure to
shoot Qasim in the head if he tried to escape on foot or by some other means of
transportation.

*          *          *

“I think I’d
better start off by saying how honored I am to be able to come to Washington D.C. and be a part of this team,” Parks told the men. “Now, I am a Marine Officer,
not a federal agent, so our tactics and ways of operation will vary. I hate dictators,
so I must say that I am open to bending on some of the ways I am used to doing
things, so we can fit some of the ways you all have done things in the past. I
know you are all skilled at counterterrorism, and I must say, I have had a few
brushes with terrorists myself. But I can still imagine your shock when you
heard that this team was going to be commanded by a Marine.” Everyone nodded
slightly. “However, we can learn from our differences, and choose the best way
to approach every obstacle we face. I am not saying my military tactics are
superior to yours, nor am I saying yours are better than mine. We’ll have to
take the best way, no matter what that may be.”

Parks felt
awkward, but he kept on. “As I get to know each one of you – and I’m sure you
all know each other very well – I will assign each man to a certain ‘task,’ if
you will. That way when we confront our enemy, we will each be specialists at
one or multiple things. For example, the most proficient shot can be the
sniper, or the best undercover agent can do the undercover work, and so on.”

Norse was
already not liking the military words that Parks was using, but he’d have to
get used to it. He had hoped that Solomon would have been the leader; he was
the most experienced and trusted out of them all. Norse frequently wondered why
the President had chosen a Marine of all people.

Parks wasn’t
finished. “So, putting all personal feelings aside, I am your team leader now.
This is an assignment that we cannot fail. The President – the Nation actually
– is counting on us. Maybe some of you think that I am not the right man for
this job, but let’s not let personal preferences stand in the way of
accomplishing our mission.” He searched for something else that might need to
be addressed, but decided there was nothing else. “Well, that said, you are all
dismissed.” Parks hoped he’d chosen the right words to say.

 As the agents
left the room one by one, Solomon stood by the door and lingered.  “Keith, I think
I must warn you,” he said, closing the door and leaning against it. “A couple
of the agents are not happy about you being here and commanding the team. I
don’t think they’ll be any trouble during an operation, but I think they’ll
challenge you on your decisions before and after.”

Parks nodded
slowly. “I’ve gathered that already by the looks on some of their faces.”

“Greg Norse for
one?” Solomon asked.

Again Parks
nodded. “And Eric Lee. I guess I don’t blame them.”

“You should. You were the President’s choice, and they should not doubt
it. He’s the boss.” Solomon stared at the floor. “He chose you instead of me, and
that’s against what most of them hoped. You see Keith, for a long time I was
the lead agent for some of them in the counterterrorism line of work. To be
exact, I led Marler and Lee, and worked with Norse, Samuels, and Corley. They all
know me, and right now, they doubt your ability.” Solomon stopped for a second,
looked straight at Parks, then added, “I for one, think you were the best
choice.” With that done and over with, Solomon opened the door and went down
the hall, leaving Parks alone with his thoughts.

*          *          *

Uzza could see
the vehicle that was identified as Qasim’s, coming down the road hard and fast.
It was still a ways off, but approaching at seventy or eighty miles an hour.

“LASER ONE, this
is STRIKE LEADER. Over,” Uzza softly spoke to one of the snipers through his
radio.

A second later,
the response came. “STRIKE LEADER, this is LASER ONE. Go ahead. Over.”

“Our target is
approaching, be ready. Pass the information on to LASER TWO. Over.”