Viper Team Seven (The Viper Team Seven Series Book 1) (32 page)

Silence followed
for several minutes before someone in the back spoke up. “Mr. Siraj, you are
right. If we continue with our plans, we will die before we can attain success.
Your way is the only sensible way to go. I’m with you.”

Siraj smothered
a smile and fixed his eyes on the road. “Is he the only one?” he demanded to
know.

A moment passed
before the others reluctantly agreed. When they did, Siraj whipped the vehicle
in a U-turn and headed west instead of the planned course. What he didn’t know,
and what he never would know, was that if he had kept on his course, he would
have crossed the area where the Viper Team Seven was waiting, in just a half
mile.

Friday, March 21
^st
– 0500 hours

Somewhere Near Del Rio, Texas

Parks was certain
of one thing: the terrorists were not going east. The Border Patrol reported
that there was a possibility that they had been trying to get into San Antonio, but from what Parks was seeing, nothing was backing up that idea. The team had
been in position, waiting, watching, for hours, and nothing besides American Citizens
had passed by.
This is hopeless,
Parks thought.
If they were coming
they’d have come by now.

He knew he
needed to make a vital decision, again. He had to make the call of when to call
it quits. There was no use in sitting out in the barren deserts of Texas watching for something that wouldn’t come when they could be used better elsewhere.
But what would happen if the terrorists were just about to come? He had asked
himself that question a hundred times since he arrived, and he really couldn’t
come up with a plausible answer. But instinctively he was doing more harm than
good waiting around, and he had to get back into the game before it ended with
defeat.

Picking up his gear,
he walked over, called Norse and Corley, and then radioed in to Solomon. “VIPER
BRAVO, this is VIPER ALPHA. Forget it, it’s useless. The targets must have
taken a different route. We’re coming over. Do you copy? Over.”

The reply was
instantaneous. “Roger that, VIPER ALPHA. I fully agree,” Solomon said back. “We’ll
be lookin’ for you. Out.”

“Come on guys,”
Parks ordered his two-man team as he began to walk across the road to join
Solomon. “I can’t believe this happened.”

“What exactly
did
happen?” Corley asked.

Parks shook his head but didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to answer. He
was upset, disappointed and completely confused. He didn’t know where to turn,
what to ask, or what to do. Everything had fallen apart since the sleeper’s
house. If only he’d done the job right the first time he wouldn’t be in this
mess. He knew that if Norse would have done his assignment right and not second-guessed
authority, the house storming wouldn’t have failed as it did. He had been
thinking about that all night, and he had narrowed the reason down to two
things. One, Norse hadn’t taken his job seriously since Parks had given it to
him; two, he wanted Parks to fall flat on his face so he purposely made a
halfhearted effort. Either way the same rule applied. Norse was the reason the
operation had failed, and he needed to be dealt with. But ultimately, Parks knew
he
was to blame. As someone once said, “Everything rises and falls on
leadership.” It was true. Parks should have straightened Norse out before they embarked
on this operation. He had waited too long, and now he might have to deliver the
bad news of a failed mission. His last hope was that he’d have a third chance.

*          *          *

Three days after
Operation FIRST FIGHT, Parks and his team flew into Andrews. His team had
worked through the JTTF Field Office for those days until the terrorists were
confirmed lost. So, disappointed and tired, the Viper Team Seven had climbed on
BIG BIRD and headed back home to report the bad news to the National Security
Advisor.

After they
landed, the team loaded into ICEBERG and drove to the White House. They picked
up their vehicles and headed home since it was past midnight and too late to
report about the mission.

At 0600 Monday,
March 24
^th
, Parks gathered with his team in front of the EEOB.

“I’ll go report to
the National Security Advisor now,” Parks said. “You guys can go ahead and do
PT at the gym. Solomon, you take charge. When I’m through with the briefing,
I’ll come over. Most likely I’ll be there around 0730 or so.”

Solomon zipped
up his jacket since the day was getting colder and replied, “Okay, KP, have
fun. We’ll see you later then.”

“Right,” Parks
moaned as he left his team and walked toward the White House. He knew that what
he had to say to the NSA would not be pleasant and that he was going to get in
loads of trouble. But he had to do it anyway and the sooner he got it done the
better.

Walking up to
the guards, he showed his badge and was allowed inside the white mansion. He
didn’t want to be here at all. He didn’t want to say what he had to. In fact,
he didn’t even want to see the National Security Advisor. He hated reporting
his failures, and even more so when he had as much responsibility as he had
now. Lives of innocent American Citizens were in his hands and when he failed
to achieve success in his operations, there was a chance that those citizens
could be killed.

Pulling himself
from the negative thinking, he continued walking down the hall until he came in
front of the NSA’s office door. Parks had been told to report to him without
the need for giving notice that he was coming. He wasn’t sure if it was better
that way or worse, but that was what he was ordered to do so he didn’t have any
choice.

With deep dread,
Parks grasped the door knob, turned it, and opened the door. He quickly stepped
inside the office, closed the door, and stood at attention. At first he didn’t
see the National Security Advisor, but he eventually spotted him from the
corner of his eye. Looking upset and tired, the man was on his cell phone
pacing his office. He was on the far side of the room and was so captivated in
his conversation that he didn’t realize Parks was even there.

Like any good
Marine, Parks didn’t move and just waited for his boss to finish with his call.
Smith was yelling into his phone now, and as Parks stood at attention he began
to think that his timing was terrible. What he had to talk to the NSA about
would make him mad enough but if he was already angry, Parks was dead.

As he continued
to stare at the wall in front of him he became aware that either Smith had not
realized he was there or he was completely ignoring him. Five minutes passed
and not so much as a nod had come from the upset National Security Advisor. It
was eating a lot of the time Parks would need for the briefing, but that was
fine by him. The less time he had to spend with his upset boss the better.

The clock made
it all the way to 0610, then 0615, then 0620. Parks had been standing at
attention for so long his legs felt like deadweights. Finally when Smith
crashed onto the couch that faced away from where Parks was, he came to the
conclusion that it would be a long while before the NSA would hang up the
phone. He thought maybe he should slip out of the office and come back at a
better time.

Just as he was
gathering the courage to make an attempt to leave, the National Security
Advisor made one last command into his phone. “Just come over to my office as
soon as you can, Admiral!” Smith yelled. Then he snapped his phone shut and
threw it across the room where it landed on a leather chair.

The NSA sighed
deeply and ran his hands through his hair before walking to his refrigerator
and pulling out a bottle of water. At last he turned and strolled over to his
desk.

“Oh, Parks,” he stated
in surprise. He seated himself behind the massive desk. “I didn’t expect to see
you.”

Parks swallowed
hard and could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he contemplated how to
go about the explanation. “Uh, sir I–”

“Yes, I know.
You came by to tell me about the failed operation.” Smith finished for him. “You’ve
got a lot of explaining to do, Major.”

“Is now a good
time, sir?” Parks asked cautiously.

“
Now is as
good a time as any,
” Smith fired back. “Now get to it.”

“Yes sir, I must
give you a negative report on the operation. We took out the sleeper agent and
the wounded terrorist, sir, but the rest have escaped. They’re confirmed lost,
sir.” Parks knew he wasn’t telling the National Security Advisor anything he
didn’t know already.

The NSA raised
his fist high in the air and slammed it down on the desk. “
Do you know what
you’ve done, Parks? Do you know that we’ve got eight terrorists running loose
inside the Continental United States? Huh?
”

Parks didn’t
breathe as he managed to respond. “Yes sir. I understand completely, sir.”

Smith’s mouth
was agape as he searched for words that he just couldn’t find. “I can’t believe
you,” he spat out at last. “Tell me exactly how you lost them.”

“Sir, they
escaped through a tunnel when we attacked the sleeper’s house,” Parks admitted,
again knowing the NSA knew this information. “Later, the Border Patrol found
them while they were driving on a dirt road, heading east, probably to San Antonio. We set up a position on the highway, just west of Del Rio, sir, and waited for
them to come by. Nothing ever showed up, sir.”

“You mean to
tell me you didn’t check for escape tunnels before you stormed the house?” the
National Security Advisor asked, trying to keep his tone of voice under
control.

Parks was
silent. Even though he knew it was Norse who hadn’t looked thoroughly enough for
escape tunnels, he’d never tell the NSA that.

“Well?” Smith
prodded, gesturing with his hand for Parks to speak.

“I did check,
sir.”

“Then why did
you let them escape through a tunnel?”

“We didn’t find
that tunnel, sir,” Parks explained bluntly.

“Why not?”

“The man I sent
to do the job just didn’t find it, sir.”

“Oh…” the
National Security Advisor declared, marking his discovery. “So someone on your
team goofed up the whole operation by not doing his job? Who was it?”

Parks remained
quiet.

“
I asked you
a question, Parks, whose fault was it?
”

“It was my
fault, sir,” Parks conceded.

“How was it your
fault?”

“Sir, I was in
charge of the operation. I should have come up with a better way to search for
the escape tunnels. I’m the commander, sir, and with whatever happens at work,
I’m responsible for it. It was my fault that the operation failed, sir.”

“All right, it’s
your fault then. But who was the rat that made it fail?”

“I’m to blame,
sir.”

“I understand
that,” Smith shot back. “But what man on your team was tasked with finding escape
tunnels and slacked off?”

“I’m not sure he
slacked off, sir.”

“Okay,” the NSA
retorted in a mocking tone. “
But who was it?
”

Parks was
determined to stay silent. He had already told the National Security Advisor it
was his fault, that was the truth, and that was all he needed to know.

Smith pulled on
his tie so he could have more breathing room and just stared at the
ramrod-straight Parks who obviously was not going to respond to the question.
Then he tried a different approach. “I warn you, Parks,” he began in a hushed
voice that was more meaningful than the loud tone, “pull that stunt again, and
you’re fired. One more of those negative reports, and you and everyone on your
team are fired. Am I completely, one hundred percent clear on this, Major?”

Parks felt like
he’d been gut shot but he didn’t broadcast his feelings to his boss. “Yes sir,”
he concluded.

“Very well. I
will allow you to leave this office before I say or do anything that would get
me in trouble.
Now get out of this office, Parks.
”

Grateful to
leave, Parks did a precise about-face and opened the door. As he hurriedly
walked down the hall so he could get back to his office, he felt like his head
was going to explode with all the things that were running through his mind. He
had just had his job threatened, been yelled at by his boss, and with the
influence the National Security Advisor had, he would probably have Parks’
Marine career ruined if he failed at another operation. Parks wasn’t sure who
to be mad at, himself, Norse, or the terrorists. In a way, he wasn’t mad at
Norse. Not yet anyway. He knew mistakes happened, and also he wasn’t sure if
the man had purposely not found the tunnel.

Completely
frustrated and filled with uncertainty, Parks exited the mansion’s doors and
walked toward the EEOB. When he flipped open his cell phone to check the time,
he found it was already 0700. Time was flying by, and he couldn’t wait to get
home. Unfortunately, there was still a lot to do today.

Parks walked up
to the enormous building and entered quickly. He speed-walked to his office and
when he finally reached the door, he unlocked it and went inside. He then sat
down behind his desk in his swivel chair and turned on the computer. He began
to log on to his email account and then decided to have the meeting with his
team before doing anything else. So Parks changed into a pair of simple blue
jeans and pulled on his yellow Marine Corps sweatshirt that he’d received from
OCS. He draped his uniform over his arms and transferred his phone, keys, and
wallet to his blue jean’s pockets.

Shooting a quick
look at the computer’s clock, he realized that he had less than twelve minutes
to get to the gym if he wanted to be there by his estimated 0730.

Mere seconds
passed before Parks exited his office, locked the door, and walked to the
EEOB’s door. When he finally stepped out into the somewhat-cold air, he began
jogging for his vehicle, attracting stares from some of the Secret Service
agents.

After reaching
his vehicle, he hopped in and drove out of the White House parking lot. He
pulled onto the main thoroughfare and made tracks for the gym all the while he
kept asking himself,
Why did this have to happen? Why?

He didn’t have a
plausible answer, but he knew it was going to be a rough meeting. He didn’t
want to tell his team that their jobs had been threatened, but he had to. If
nothing else, it would serve as an extra motivator for Norse, which was
desperately needed.

“Keep calm,” he whispered aloud as a new wave of anger passed over him.
“Keep calm and everything will go just fine.”