Viper Team Seven (The Viper Team Seven Series Book 1) (14 page)

-Solomon

 
Parks looked at the initials “KP” and shook his head, amazed at
how he was so used to being called “sir” by his subordinates. He quickly
replied to the email.

Solomon,

I bowl a lot.
How about you? I think I could find time to bust some pins tonight. What do you
say? You could meet me at the house I’m going to rent at about 2000. I’ll give
you the directions if you decide you want to go.

-Keith

Solomon seemed
to be very nice, and Parks thought he would be helpful when times became tough.
He’d have to talk to Solomon about the training they’d be doing and maybe he
would have some ideas. After all, he was the deputy commander and he should have
an influence on what would take place on the team. Parks liked the gentle, tall
man. He was friendly and seemed to be willing to die for Parks, already.

Quickly, Parks
shoved that thought aside. He didn’t want to think about death. Not now, not
ever. When it came, it came. His job required that he not fear death too much,
and the only way for Parks not to fear it was not to think about it. It wasn’t
the being dead part that made him uneasy; it was the dying part. This job would
surely bring him in close scrapes with death, of that, Parks was sure. But
maybe he could cheat the system a bit and live through those life threatening
times. However, if it came to it, he loved his country enough that he would
sacrifice his very being just to see her stay free and safe. That was his
mission in life, to help protect and defend the United States of America. If he
accomplished that mission, he could die happy. Parks was convinced he hadn’t
done that yet, so he wasn’t ready to die. Still, he often wondered if any
amount of success in life would make him die happy.

Parks shook his
head. He couldn’t think of the what-ifs, not in this job. He had to focus on the
present, on his job, on his country, not on death.

Parks scrolled through two new “chatter” emails from Langley, when
another message from Solomon came in.

KP,

That’s all
right with me, I love bowling. I’d appreciate it if you’d give me the directions
to your house, if you don’t mind. Well, I’ll see you at 2000.

-Solomon

After emailing
Solomon back, Parks swiveled around in his chair, stood up, and walked around
his office. He could hardly wait to relax and blow off some steam. He needed to
rest and get refreshed, and then he would look forward to coming to work in the
morning.

Monday, March 17
^th
– 2215 hours

Jerusalem, Israel

“May 10, 2009,”
Hazeroth told the prime minister. “Remember how the then-President of the United States addressed the Nation, on what they call Mother’s Day, about how Iran had been neutralized. The assumption was that Iran was no longer a threat, that they’d never
again be deemed the ‘terrorist capital of the world.’”

Aziza shook his
head. He didn’t remember even a small percentage of the speeches the American Presidents
had spoken over the years.

“Do you recall
what Iran did a week later in response to the President’s speech?” Hazeroth
pressed. “Remember? Remember how Iran’s Hamas captured one of our soldiers?
Remember how they shipped his stabbed, beaten, crumpled, bloody, dead body to
our doorstep in a box? They proved that the American President hadn’t spoken
the truth, that they still could be, and still were, the terrorist capital. But
in 2013, upon President Winnfield’s inauguration, focus shifted. Iran was the new Iraq. The War on Terror was concentrated on Iran, and the terror cells were taken out.”
Hazeroth paused and let his statement take root. “Well, Iran has no intention of being forgotten as the terrorist capital. They still are deadly. They have
been dormant, but no, not taken out for good. They still are wicked and extremely
capable of scheming an operation such as this.”

“Are you saying
the War on Terrorism didn’t do its job?” Aziza demanded. “Are you implying that
Iran is the culprit of the events unfolding?”

“More than
implying, Mr. Prime Minister. I am embarrassed that I didn’t think of what the
Americans did. The thought that Iran was guilty did cross my mind but I was
stupid enough not to look deeper into the matter. And I must say, I believe
they are right.”

“Answer my first
question, Judah,” the prime minister commanded.

“The War on
Terrorism was effective. It quieted
most
, mind you
most
, of the
terrorist cells in Iraq, Afghanistan and Iran. But not all. It would be an
impossible job to take out all the terrorists in those countries. You’d have to
obliterate those entire nations to do that. Yes, the war was useful, and it
silenced terrorist activities for a while, not for good. Terrorism is an
ongoing thing; it cannot be stopped unless the root is killed.”

“Impossible. The
root of terror could never be destroyed,” the prime minister countered.

“Yes, yes, and
that’s why the War on Terror quieted terrorism, but did not completely end it.
That would be an impossibility. America did its job, but Iran will still come back again, if it hasn’t already. The mindset of terrorism is still there, and
I believe it has stuck out its ugly head today.”

“You agree with
President Winnfield?” Aziza questioned.

Hazeroth had been
briefed by Aziza on what the President had suggested, and he completely agreed
with Winnfield.

“Did I not just
say that I was ashamed not to have already told you what he did?”

Aziza was upset.
“
No, it cannot be, it cannot be,
” he insisted. “
The Lebanese are to blame.
”

“Mr. Prime
Minister, the Iranians are looking more guilty than the Lebanese. Can’t you see
that? Why would the Lebanese attack us? They are still petrified of us.”

The prime
minister opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it.

“Do you not agree
with what the U.S. suggested to you?” Hazeroth knowingly asked.

Aziza again did
not speak.

“I have been
pressing our sources in Iran for information, but so far they have none,”
Hazeroth explained. “Our agents in Lebanon have been trying to track information
on who sent Qasim, but they have nothing either. We’re doing an advanced
investigation on him too, and we are coming up with some interesting things. But
we still have nothing of real value yet. I’ll most definitely inform you when we
do.”

“Judah,” the
prime minister said, “I need you to keep pressing them. I need to know what’s
going on in Iran and Lebanon. We need to strike back, but we need to strike the
right country. We cannot afford to attack the wrong nation; the world is
looking for our country to make a mistake.”

“I know. We will
do our best.”

“If we move
against Lebanon without further confirmation that they are the ones, I fear the
entire Middle East would move against us.”

Hazeroth nodded.
“All the more reason to look deeper into the issue, Mr. Prime Minister.”

“Find me something I can use. Find me the country to retaliate against. And
find it
fast
.”

*          *          *

The clock read
1800. It was quitting time. Parks quickly grabbed his cell phone and headed out.
He had already programmed his team members’ numbers just in case he needed to
get a hold of them for any reason. He didn’t expect trouble but he wanted to be
prepared.

The sun was
dropping and the sky was turning bright orange as Parks walked the long parking
lot to his truck. When he arrived, he found a note under the windshield wiper.
He realized it was telling him where his assigned parking space was. Quickly he
opened the truck’s door, jumped in, and drove off, waving to a couple of guards
as he pulled out onto the main thoroughfare. He was still uncomfortable driving
in this big city, but he felt safe in his monster truck. The sound of the diesel
engine relaxed him, and he slouched back in his seat, one-handing the wheel.

He stopped at a red
light and waited behind several cars. Actually, he did more than wait; he could
have taken a nap with the time he had. The light seemed to be stuck on red; it
just didn’t change. Parks fought to stay patient, but he was getting tired of
sitting at this red light doing nothing.

“Stinkin’ D.C.
traffic lights,” he grumbled. “I could have walked to the hotel by now.”

The light
changed to green and everyone inched forward. By the time Parks made it right
up to the intersection, the light switched again to red. He sighed loudly with
frustration.

Parks waited for several more minutes at this light, and when it finally
turned green once more, he sped off toward the hotel, as fast as he dared.

*          *          *

“Israel’s moving against Lebanon,” Winnfield boldly told the National Security Advisor. “And we can’t
stop them. Aziza’s hard head is going to get him in a war he shouldn’t be in,
and it will end up in the destruction of his State of Israel.”

“Are you sure
he’ll take the large step of declaring war so soon? I mean, he has no real
evidence that Lebanon’s to blame,” Smith said.

“He probably
would have made serious steps in that direction if I hadn’t called. The only
reason he might not declare now is because I put a seed of doubt in his mind by
bringing up the possibility that Iran could be the guilty party.”

“You really believe
Lebanon’s that innocent?” Smith asked in disbelief.

“With the
information we have now, yes. Now that could change when we get more
intelligence on the whole deal, but as it stands, I would say that Iran is the guilty party.”

“I agree that Iran looks responsible, sir. However I also think that Lebanon would be happy about taking
out Israel, if the opportunity presented itself. Would they not?”

Winnfield chose
his response carefully. “What Middle Eastern country would not like to see Israel drop off the face of the earth? However, I don’t think Lebanon has the military
strength to move against Israel.”

“Whether they do
or don’t, sir, they’ve always been known to try,” the NSA pointed out.

“But they
wouldn’t do it, Tom, they wouldn’t. Not when Israel threatened them with an
ICBM armed with a nuclear warhead that would leave Beirut smoldering for months
to come. They wouldn’t,” the President confirmed. “Couldn’t.”

“Look, Mr.
President, a suicide bomber attempted to come into Israel. He made it in, and
was stopped before he could pull anything off. What’s so new and threatening
about that? Has Israel looked at a single suicide bomber as an act of war
before? We did, but we’re different. We don’t get ‘suiciders’ every week. They
do. It’s a common occurrence, not a declaration of war. Why is Israel taking it so hard this time?”

“The world is
about to explode, Tom, more than ever before. Israel is now the major Middle
Eastern power since Iraq and Iran have been thrown down. They’re the big guys
on the block. They’re second only to us on everyone’s hit list. Every Middle
Eastern nation feels it has to take out Israel before she gets too strong. Lebanon is angry because their UNON Plan has been denied. They want the Golan Heights. They
just want Israel gone. Aziza looks at that terrorist as sent from the Lebanese.
He takes it as a challenge, and he’s going to tell the world how no one can
mess with Israel. He’s not backing down, to anyone.”

“Not even to our
advice?” Smith shot out.

Winnfield was
somewhat shocked by the question. It wasn’t really a question, more of a statement
that had been on the President’s mind ever since the call with the prime
minister. “No, not even to our advice,” he replied coolly. “I don’t know why;
we only want the best for them. They’re in the jaws of a lion and they’re not
going to get out by declaring war on the Lebanese with the kind of evidence
they have. They need to have proof that Lebanon did it, or they’re going to get
in trouble.”

“How are they
going to get out of the ‘lion’s mouth’ then?”

“Good question.
Well for one, they could listen to us, and we’d lead them out. But to fight Lebanon with no proof that they’re behind this would push Israel deeper down the lion’s throat.”

“That’s if we
could
lead them out,” Smith corrected.

“You don’t think
we could?”

“I’m not saying
that, I’m just asking how we’d get them out.”

“By telling them
to take things easy because the world wants to pounce on them the first mistake
they make. And I believe that declaring war on Lebanon would be their first.”

“And their
second?” the National Security Advisor prodded.

“Ignoring Iran and letting them play their hand,” the President explained. “You see, war is war, but,
winning is superior to losing. If Aziza attacks the Lebanese, they’d be at war.
Big deal, what’s new? But by Israel declaring a war, Iran would play their part
and win the whole game.”

“Whoa, whoa, Mr.
President, I thought you said that if Israel made war on Lebanon, the entire Middle East would destroy her, not just Iran.”

“That’s if Israel was wrong about the Lebanese being guilty, and Iran really doesn’t have a plan to destroy
them. But if we’re right about Iran, then they’re the ones to watch.”

“Iran’s the culprit?” Smith asked.

“I think so, but
I’m not 100% positive yet. Not sure enough to declare war on them, if I were in
Aziza’s shoes. But I will say that I’d declare a war on the Iranians way before
the Lebanese.”

“Let me
backtrack, Mr. President. You’re saying that if Israel listens to us about Lebanon, and stays pretty well mistake-free, they’ll get out of the hot seat?”

“Yes,” the President
confirmed. “They don’t need to be so careful forever, just until the world
calms down with them somewhat, and they get out of the lion’s mouth.”

“What if Iran doesn’t let them stay mistake-free? What if they force Israel’s hand against Lebanon? What should Israel do then? Just sit back and get obliterated by terrorists while letting
the world know they’re not moving against anyone because they don’t want to
make a mistake?”

“By that time
we’ll know it’s Iran that’s responsible,” Winnfield declared. “Then we’ll take Israel out of the world’s sights, or the lion’s mouth, or whatever, and
we
will crush Iran with all we’ve got. Once and for all.”

“Let Israel think about it,” the NSA advised, “and we’ll see if they decide the right thing.”

“That’s just it, Tom, I’m guessing. I don’t
know exactly what the
right thing is.”

*          *          *

For the first
time in three years, Parks could go home and feel comfortable. No evil feeling
greeted him; no haunting sensation flooded him; all was peaceful and relaxing. Parks
cranked up the heat in his new house and waited for Solomon.

He had swung by
his hotel to change out of his uniform and pulled on a green
Nike
shirt,
and jumped in a pair of blue jeans. They felt much more relaxing than the constricting
Service Alphas he had been wearing all day. He had then went over and signed the
papers to rent the house. Since he had excellent credit the procedure had taken
about forty-five minutes. When it was over, Parks stopped by his storage unit
to grab his bowling equipment.

The sun had almost
completely dropped now, and the time was rapidly approaching 2000. Solomon
would be here soon.

After about five
minutes Parks heard someone pull up into the driveway. He figured it to be
Solomon, so he quickly grabbed his phone, threw on his light jacket, then
headed out the door. Parks almost went deaf when he stepped out of his house.
Reggae music was slicing the air at earsplitting volumes. Parks rapidly
confirmed the jet-black Camaro and music to be Solomon’s.

Solomon got out of
the sports car and began walking over to Parks, leaving the deafening music
blaring. Parks met him halfway down the driveway and Solomon greeted him warmly
with a handshake. Parks instantly reached into his jacket pocket and applied a
healthy dose of
Germ-X
to wash away all the handshake germs. He hoped
his friend wouldn’t be offended over that action because he did it whenever he
shook hands. That was just his routine.

Parks hoped that
he could persuade his guest to drive in his truck. He didn’t feel like losing
all his hearing in one evening’s drive because of some reggae music that was as
irritating as it was loud.