Viper Team Seven (The Viper Team Seven Series Book 1) (38 page)

Parks fumbled
for his radio. “Affirmative, VIPER BRAVO. What is it? Over.”

“I think they’re
coming,” the hopeful Solomon announced. “We’ve got a silver Suburban. Break. Looks
pretty full. Coming fast, but I can’t be sure it’s them. Langley hasn’t
notified me in any way.”

“VIPER BRAVO, I
need to know if it’s them, quick. Over.”

The radio went
dead for a while and Parks couldn’t wait any longer. “VIPER BRAVO, is it
confirmed to be our target? Over.”

A mumbled,
muffled reply came that was completely incomprehensible.

“VIPER BRAVO, I
did not copy that last statement. Say again. Over,” Parks tried once more.

“Wait, wait,
wait, wait, wait,” Solomon groaned. “VIPER ALPHA, unless the terrorists have a
lady for a driver, it ain’t them. Over.”

Parks’ mind
scrambled. Was this just a smoke screen the terrorists were using? How would he
know if it wasn’t? Shouldn’t the CIA have contacted Solomon and let him know if
the terrorists were coming?

“VIPER ALPHA,
what should I do? Over.”

Parks broke into
a cold sweat – something that seemed typical of his career – and realized that
his decision would make or break this operation. If he let this vehicle pass
when it was really the terrorists, he mostly likely would have just lost his
job. On the other hand if he went after this vehicle and it wasn’t the terrorists
then the real terrorists would most likely get away. More importantly, the
occupants of the Suburban would be innocent Americans.

“VIPER BRAVO, how
much time do I have before the vehicle reaches me? Over,” Parks wondered.

“Less than five
minutes. Over.”

Parks’ head felt
light as he gave an order even he wasn’t sure of. “VIPER BRAVO, let them go.
Over.”

“Uh, VIPER
ALPHA, could you say that again just for the record? Over.”

“I said let them
go. Break. Langley would have notified you if it would have been them. Do you
copy? Over.”

“I copy, VIPER ALPHA.
Standing by. Out.”

Parks instantly called in to CIA Headquarters to try and get some
information as quickly as he could. If those really were the terrorists, he had
less than five minutes to find out and no vehicle blockades to help him during
the fight. The suspense was killing him. After all, he may have just ordered
Solomon to let the terrorists get away.

*          *          *

The senior FBI
watch officer on duty at the CIA ops center burst into the D/CIA’s office and
didn’t bother to knock.

“What on earth–”
Cummins began to say but the watch officer cut him off.

“Mr. Director, I
need a word with you.”

The Director was
on the phone and not too pleased to have this unexpected visit. “Hey, I’m on
the phone–”

“
Now
sir,” the watch officer insisted.

Cummins shot the
agent a harsh look but obeyed his subordinate’s order. “I’ll call you back,” he
spoke into the phone. “Yup, got it. Bye.”

“It’s about the
terrorists,” the agent continued without hesitation. “I received word from a VIPER
ALPHA a little while ago stating that he saw a vehicle that matched the
terrorists’ vehicle’s description. He was asking if it was them or not.”

“Was it?”

“No – well not
if our drone image is correct anyway, which I’m sure it is. But that’s not what
I wanted to tell you about.”

“Then would you
please get on with it?” Cummins begged.

“It’s concerning
the terrorists still. Sir, they have taken a different route. They’re now making
tracks back for I-40.”

Cummins gasped.
The master terrorist had made yet another decisive move.

Wednesday, March 26
^th
– 1015 hours

The Situation Room

There was
important business to tend to and everyone in the Situation Room knew it. Cummins
was leading the briefing but he wished he wasn’t. The President was getting
frustrated with him even though this wasn’t his fault. Both men knew it was
nobody’s fault that the terrorists managed to escape once again, but that
didn’t help matters much.

“I think before
we waste our time deploying Parks again we’d better figure out what we’re doing
wrong,” the National Security Advisor suggested. “The terrorists dodging him once
could be a coincidence, but not twice. They know something that we don’t want
them to. But how?”

It was a tough
question, but if anyone in the room liked to take swings at hard-to-answer
questions, it was the Vice President.

“You ever think
maybe they’ve got someone in front of them, making sure there’s no trouble?” he
wondered. “It’d be a great way for the terrorists to see what’s ahead before
they come piling headlong into trouble.”

“Go on, Stan,”
Winnfield encouraged, now fully interested.

“Mike have you
checked the vehicles around the terrorists? Are there any vehicles that just
seem to be glued to them no matter where they go?”

The D/CIA
sniffed, then admitted he hadn’t checked on that.

“We may want to
check into that,” the VP went on. “If that’s what’s been going on then it’ll be
easy to fix. The only hard part would be proving that it’s true.”

“Check into that, Mike,” the President ordered. “We’ll be right here
waiting for you.”

*          *          *

The D/CIA
trudged back into the Situation Room and peeled out of his suit coat. “It’s a
wild goose chase, Mr. President; there are just too many vehicles on that road.
We’re going to have to wait and see if any of the vehicles actually turn onto
I-40 with the terrorists. If any do, then we can narrow it down a bit but right
now it’s just impossible.”

Winnfield pulled
at his collar and stared at the floor. “I need options. Anything will be
helpful. Mike do you have
anything
?” The D/CIA shook his head,
indicating his lack of ideas. “Nat?” The Secret Service Director also had
nothing. “Frank? Josh?” Both men were silent. “Stan? Tom?”

“I am reluctant
to mention this, Mr. President,” the NSA started, “but there always is the
option of that drone missile strike.”

“No,” the
President denied quickly. “I need something else.”

“The terrorists
have got to fill up on gas sometime don’t they?” Travis stated suddenly. “Well
when they do, then we could jump them.”

 “No, no, that
wouldn’t do,” Cummins retorted. “There’d be too many civilians around for that.
They’d be caught in the crossfire.”

“
Then what?
”
the DNI demanded.

“Calm down,”
Smith commanded. “Shouting won’t do us any good. We’ve got to think hard and
find a way to outsmart vun Buvka. We need to do it quickly too because he’s
approaching some very large cities. He’ll be like a kid in a candy shop if we
don’t stop him soon.”

“We’ll stop him all
right,” the President assured. “If it’s the last thing I do I’ll make sure he’s
stopped.”

“I believe you,
Mr. President,” Travis interjected. “But how? Nothing so far has worked.”

Winnfield
glanced up to the ceiling before looking to Travis. “All right then, Mr.
Director of National Intelligence, do you have something brilliant you want to
add? Because nothing you’ve suggested so far has been very plausible.”

“Well, if I were
you, Mr. President–”

“You aren’t so
don’t think like you are.”

Tempers were
beginning to flare up and the irritation everyone felt was making the room feel
far too small. Every man knew that arguing wasn’t going to get them anywhere
but they didn’t know what
would
.

“I should be
offended by that, Mr. President, but given the responsibilities you have, I
won’t take it personally,” the DNI casually responded.

“Well you’d
better take it personally, Mr. Director, because things are going to get
really
personal if you don’t come up with something soon.”

“Now it’s my
responsibility?”

“You do what
you’re told, Travis, and keep your mouth shut unless I say to open it.”

Travis’ eyes
went wide and the President could see uneasiness spread over the man’s face.

“And that goes
for the rest of you,” Winnfield snapped. “If you can’t do your jobs then don’t
pretend like you can. I need advisors here not a bunch of snot-nosed kids that
can’t add two plus two.”

That said, the
President stood up and stormed out of the room.

“Uh, gentlemen
if you can wait here I’ll be back in a few,” the VP informed them.

The Vice
President also left the Situation Room to go have a heart-to-heart discussion
with the President. He didn’t meet up with him, however, until Winnfield
entered the Oval Office and closed the door. Without knocking, Anders opened
the door, walked into the office, then closed the door behind him.

“You know it’s
customary to knock before opening that door,” the President said hotly. “And
did I ask to see you?”

“No but you need
to.”

“I think I can
be the judge of that.”

“What’s wrong
with you, Mr. President?” the VP pressed. “Why are you cutting everyone’s head
off? This isn’t our fault you know.”

Winnfield was
about to come apart. His reaction to the stress he was under was to get angry
at whoever was close by, and right now his best friend was that someone.

“
Maybe it’s
just that my advisors already don’t have heads. If they do they sure don’t use
them like they should.
”

Anders shook his
head in disgust and tried to find the right words to say.

“Don’t say it,”
the President commanded. “I think we’ve already said everything there is to
say.”

“Not even close,
Mr. President. Look, just because you can’t handle the pressure doesn’t mean
you’ve got to bite our heads off. I’ve never known you to quit like this. I
thought you were decorated in the Army for being a good leader. If that’s what
the Army thinks is good then they can have it. I’m going back to the Situation
Room and I’m not leaving until this thing’s done and over with.”

Anders whipped
around and swung open the door. Just before leaving he added, “You made a
promise to America last night. You said you’d do everything you could to make
sure this nation was secure. If you won’t live up to that then I will…
Mr.
President
.”

The door slammed shut and Winnfield was left alone in the Oval Office.

*          *          *

“Let’s get a
plan going,” Anders told the NSA and Directors. “It doesn’t have to be perfect,
but come on, we must do something.”

The VP had
resumed the meeting and was now taking over the President’s position. He felt
bad for saying the things he’d said to his friend – true or not, Winnfield
still was his superior – but what was done was done.

“I need an
option,” the Vice President begged. “Just one. Someone please say something.”

The National
Security Advisor cleared his throat and nervously rubbed his hand. “Mr. Vice
President, where...well...
what
is the President doing? He’s needed here.
Where on earth is he?”

“He’s pouting in
his office because...oh I don’t know why. But who cares? If he’s going to give
up then we sure can’t.”

“Who said I was
giving up?” the President asked.

All eyes turned
to the Situation Room’s doorway where the President was standing. “Well I have
news for you, I’m not giving up. ‘I have not yet begun to fight,’ to be exact.”

“Um, sir,” the
VP stammered, knowing he needed to apologize, “I need to say something, Mr.
President.”

The President
went to take his seat and responded, “Not before I say something. You’re right;
completely right. I owe you my deepest apologies, Stan, and everyone for that
matter.”

“I guess we all
need a reminder of what’s right every now and then,” Anders replied. “But you
don’t owe anyone anything except a part in this meeting.”

Winnfield nodded
in acceptance and let out a long sigh. “Well gentlemen, I don’t know what to
say other than that I’m stumped.”

“We all are, Mr.
President,” the Secret Service Director admitted. “Let’s just hope the
terrorists get the same way.”

“Yes I know, but not one of us is going to leave this room until the
entire
operation is over.”

*          *          *

Parks, Marler,
and Norse were all inside a brand new Ford F-350. Not far behind them, there
was a Yukon SUV which carried Solomon, Corley, Lee, and Samuels. In front of Parks’
truck was the terrorists’ Suburban. It was a delicate job trying to stay just
far enough behind to where it was not obvious that Parks was following them.
But he was doing the best he could.

The National
Security Advisor had recently contacted him with the order to follow the terrorists
by vehicle, and he had said that the vehicles would be provided by the JTTF
Field Office in Knoxville, Tennessee. So Parks and his team had made tracks for
the JTTF Field Office via the Iroquois-Hueys.

Parks’ job was
to just keep an eye on the terrorists and follow them until they reached a gas
station, or some other sort of stop. When they did, that’s when his team would
make their move. Parks had been strictly ordered to make sure no civilians got
involved in any way. It was an order he was backing completely.

Parks had already gone over the plans with his team, and everybody had
agreed that though difficult, they were achievable. In fact, it was almost the
same plan they would have used on the road except that it could not be
performed if any civilians were around. It was a one-in-a-thousand chance that
they would ever even get to attempt this operation, and there was an even
smaller success ratio. But what worried Parks most was how these terrorists
knew so much. It was uncanny and very frightening.

*          *          *

“VIPER BRAVO,
this is VIPER ALPHA. Do you copy? Over,” Parks said into his radio.

A second later,
his radio cracked to life. “VIPER ALPHA, this is VIPER BRAVO. Go ahead. Over.”

“The Sub’s going
to have to stop for gas soon. There’s a station up ahead. Break. Looks like it
might work. Get your team ready. Over.”

“Aye, aye, VIPER
ALPHA, we’re standing by. Out.”

Parks stared out
the windshield into the darkening evening. He was determined to make this
operation work, or die trying.

Just then, the
Suburban’s brake lights flashed on and the vehicle began to slow. It turned for
the exit that led to a small town on the Virginia border, and then sped off.
Parks hung back a bit and then copied the action.

“Everyone
ready?” he asked, desperate not to let his nerves be evident in his voice.

“Yeah, let’s get
this thing over with,” Norse declared. “We’ve played around long enough.”

Parks felt for
his own personal Colt .45 revolver that was resting beside him and ran his hand
up and down the cold metal. For this operation, each man was clad in civilian
clothes and toted a sidearm instead of an M4 carbine. That way they could blend
with the public and not be noticed as easily. Each man on each team was
equipped with two CS gas grenades, a sidearm, and a wrist-mounted radio. They all
knew what they had to do and when to do it. They understood the value of vun
Buvka, and that they might have to give their lives just to see that he was
captured. Everyone was willing to do so, and for that Parks respected them.

The three
vehicles entered the town and while the terrorists drove to the gas station,
Parks and Solomon parked their vehicles in a nearby parking lot.

“Everyone out,”
Parks ordered his team. “We don’t have much time.”

The truck’s
doors opened and slammed shut just as Solomon and his three men ran up, ready
for action.

“Norse, Corley,
go ahead,” Parks commanded.

Both men
casually walked toward the gas station, looking as if they were merely passing
by without any reason.

“Lee, Samuels,
go around back. Solomon, Marler, drive the Yukon in. Hurry it up.”

Everyone
scurried to obey their orders and Parks ran to go meet up with Norse and
Corley. When he did, he looked over at the gas station and saw Solomon drive
his vehicle into position.

Very cautiously,
Parks spoke into his wrist-mounted radio. “VIPER BRAVO, this is VIPER ALPHA.
Are you ready? Over.”

“Yeah, sure am.
Over,” Solomon said.

“Okay, stand by.
Out.”

Parks then
checked up on Lee and Samuels. “VIPER FOXTROT, this is VIPER ALPHA. Are you
guys ready? Over.”

“Affirmative,
VIPER ALPHA. We’ll start whenever you say so. Over,” Lee confirmed without
delay.

“Roger that. Stand
by. We’ll be ready in a minute. Out.”

Parks and his
two men moved into position and each took in a long breath. Parks nodded to his
team members and then spoke again into his radio. “All VIPER units, this is VIPER
ALPHA. Go!”

No sooner were
the words out of his mouth when another vehicle pulled up to the gas station.
Parks’ heart stopped. He knew that he had to call off the dogs but he had just
ordered them to go. Would he be able to stop the attack before these civilians
were involved?

In a flash he
gave another order into his radio, hoping it would be heeded in time. “
No,
no, no, no, no. Abort, I repeat, abort. Call it off.
”

Parks tried to
act calm and cool but it wasn’t working. He knew he couldn’t stay here out in
the open because it would be too obvious he was waiting. But he also knew he
just couldn’t leave. He needed a plan, and fast. The entire operation had
almost crumbled just from an unfortunate occurrence. Maybe if he was careful he
could catch the terrorists on their way out. At least he had to try.