Viper Team Seven (The Viper Team Seven Series Book 1) (41 page)

“How’d you get
his name, sir? Did he talk?”

Cummins looked
over his shoulder to check if anybody was listening. “A little. We’ve been running
the interrogation. I can’t tell you about it here. You’ll be briefed in the intel
reports. I can tell you he seems a bit soft to be a terrorist though. He keeps
on moaning about how he shouldn’t have done it.”

Parks shrugged
his shoulders. “A chink in the armor I guess, sir. Maybe that’s why we couldn’t
find him, maybe he made a run for it.”

“Doubt it. The
others would have kept him in line. Anyway, I’d just like to know how vun Buvka
got in on this and how he made it into CONUS.”

“Me too, sir.”

“Well I have to
run but I’ll see you around. Good work, Major.”

Cummins turned
down a hall and left Parks alone. He resumed heading for the doors, but after a
few steps he was stopped by someone else.

“Major Parks,”
the Secret Service Director said as he strolled up. “Good to see you boy. How’re
you doing?”

“I’m fine, just
fine,” Parks answered. “How’s everything in the Secret Service today, sir?”

Roxon evaded the
question and switched the topic. “That was a good operation you pulled off last
night. It took a while to finally pin the terrorists down but at least it all
turned out okay. How’d you know what they were going to do?”

“I didn’t, sir.
I just guessed – it was a miracle actually.”

The Director
adjusted his blue tie and chuckled. “Yeah I guess it takes luck when you’re
dealing with ‘suiciders.’ Problem is you can’t scare them with death because
they’re ready to die.” Roxon drew in a long breath. “What do you think vun
Buvka was trying to do? I mean, he couldn’t have really thought he could
escape.”

Parks was taken
aback by the question. “With all due respect, sir, it would seem obvious that
he
was
trying to escape, whether he thought he could or not. Either that
or he was trying to go elsewhere so he could continue the mission. I don’t know,
sir. But what does worry me is how much he knew.”

“What do you
mean?”

Parks shifted
nervously. Even though this
was
the White House, his job was not public
White House talk, and he didn’t want it to get that way. “It doesn’t matter,
sir. I suppose he has to be pretty smart, being that he’s worked for Hamas as
long as he has and still kept alive.”

“I don’t work
for the CIA, Major, but I do know vun Buvka pretty well – the Service really
took a leap in counterterrorism intelligence in the past few months given 1/16
and all. We thought it would be a good thing to know who we were dealing with.
Anyway, I found out some interesting things about him from the CIA.”

Parks fidgeted
with his tie and wished the Secret Service Director would be quiet. Parks knew
he was trying to be nice but he had things to do and he still wasn’t very
comfortable just casually talking with White House staffers yet. “Yes, I guess
you would at that, sir,” he agreed after a second of silence.

“I’d better let
you get back to work,” Roxon said finally. “Good job last night, and let your
team know I said so.”

Parks promised
he would and the two split ways. Quickly, Parks went for the doors. He knew
there would be a full inbox waiting for him when he arrived at the EEOB.

Sunday, March 30
^th
– 0700 hours

The Eisenhower Executive Office Building

Parks’ desk
phone rang and to his surprise, the caller ID displayed that the call was from
HQMC. Puzzled, he answered the phone.

“Major Parks,”
he said.

“Hi Keith, it’s
General Mosley. How’ve you been lately? Last time I saw you was when you came
back from Iran and I pinned on your Medal of Honor.”

Parks
instinctively stood at attention just from the sound of the Commandant’s voice,
and his mind raced to catch up with the general. He knew the man well enough
and the two were good friends, as far as majors and generals could be. Parks
had reported to the general back when he was a second lieutenant at Camp Pendleton, with the 1st ANGLICO. Mosley had been a major general then, and the
Assistant Commanding General of I MEF. But this call was quite unexpected and
Parks was trying to register what was going on.

“Uh, hello sir.
How are you, sir?” Parks asked.

“I’m great.
Things have been going well enough over here. Oh hey, sorry about the bad news,
I couldn’t help it much. I have to take orders too you know.”

Parks was silent
until he realized what the general was saying. “Oh. Don’t worry about it, sir, Washington D.C.’s not too bad. I guess some things are just meant to happen, sir.”

“Yeah, I suppose
so. How’s the new job working out for you?”

“Fine, just
fine, sir. It’s a little different than commanding Marines, sir, but I can’t
complain too much.”

The Commandant
laughed. “I know how it is. Back with the previous administration, being a
Joint Chief of Staff was loads of fun. Dealing with those liberal politicians
was almost more than I could bear. But at least that’s over with, and the White
House is in shipshape now.”

“Yes sir.”

“Well I know
you’ve got a job to do so I’ll get to the point of this call,” Mosley declared.
“Do you know what’s coming up, Keith?”

Parks thought
for a second and then gave up. “No sir, I don’t.”

“It’s going to
be the President’s birthday next month. He’s going to be fifty-five years old.”

“Well
congratulations for him, sir,” Parks responded, not knowing what that had to do
with him.

“We’re going to
throw him a birthday party at 8th and I.”

“That’s nice,
sir.”

“The Marine
Corps will be hosting the whole ordeal. It’ll be real showy; Silent Drill
Platoon, Ceremonial Marchers, the Marine Drum and Bugle Corps, that sort of
deal. Every military branch’s top brass are invited. I’m assuming that just the
Joint Chiefs of Staff will be attending though. We’ve gotta bring the cake,
food – and here’s where you come in – a gift on behalf of the Marine Corps.
Every branch will be bringing a present but since we’re hosting the deal, we’ve
got to bring the ultimate best. Besides, being the best is what we do best,
right?”

“Of course sir.
But you said that I will come in on the gift thing. What do you mean by that,
sir?” Parks wondered.

“Meaning since
there’s finally a Marine on the White House staff – other than me of course – that
man could get the perfect gift for the President since he knows him better than
anyone else.”

Parks wasn’t
convinced. “Sir, I really don’t know POTUS that well. I’ve seen him only a
handful of times and always on the job, sir. I’ve never held a casual word with
him. Sir, how can I possibly figure out what to get him?”

“You’re a smart
guy, you’re an officer, and officers are smart. You’ll find a way to figure it
out. You’ve got a couple days to think about it anyway.”

“Who will I give
the gift to when I find it, sir?” Parks questioned.

“Swing it by
HQMC and I’ll take a look at it. But you can keep it with you since you’ll be
presenting it to the President.”

Parks was
shocked. “Sir, I thought you said the top brass of every branch was going to be
there. That means the top general officers will be presenting their branch’s
presents. What’s it going to look like when the Marine Corps has a
major
doing their presentation, sir?”

“It’ll show
everyone that Marines judge character, not brass. Besides that, the President
likes you. He picked you out of lots of guys you know.”

“Yes sir, I know
that. Oh, what day is his birthday, and by what time do I have to obtain the
present, sir?”

“His birthday’s
on the 14
^th
of April and I suggest that you secure the present soon.”

“All right sir.”

“Good. Well
that’s all, Major, except one thing – it’s a personal request from me.”

“What is it,
sir?” Parks asked tentatively.

“The President’s a big history buff and the other military branches will
probably give him some historical things. But my request is that you get a
Marine Corps history present that will shame every other service’s gift, okay?”

*          *          *

Solomon entered
Parks’ office without knocking and slammed the door behind him to let Parks
know he was there.

“Solomon what do
you need?” Parks asked from behind his desk without looking up.

“I was just
checking if you were still planning on doing PT at 1300,” Solomon responded.
“Is something wrong?”

Parks held up
his scribbled-on paper, bearing a list of items, some with checkmarks beside
them, and some without. “Guess what I’ve been snagged for.”

“Don’t tell me,
don’t tell me,” Solomon begged. “I know it, it’s gotta be...let’s see...
janitor
duty
.”

“No way.”

“All right give
me a hint. Is it better or worse?”

“About the
same.”

“Okay then, it
must be that you have to brief the NSA on service records. No, it can’t be
that. Um…you’re getting a transfer so that you can be a general’s aide?”

“No, no,” Parks
countered. “I have to guess what’s on the President’s birthday list.”

Solomon smirked.
“You’re kidding. The President’s going to have a birthday?”

“Every year.”

“No, I mean is
he going to have a birthday party this year? When? Where?”

Parks clicked
his pen repetitively to the point of being obnoxious. “It’s going to be a fancy
deal at the Marine Barracks at 8th and I. Fourteenth of next month. Special
invitation only. Most or all of the Joint Chiefs will be there presenting the
President with their service’s gifts. Except for the Marine Corps.
I’m
going to be presenting the Corps’ gift,
and
I have to pick it out. Happy
birthday Mr. President sir,” Parks said sarcastically.

Solomon
whistled. “That sounds like fun – the party I mean. Who’s the President going
to invite?”

Parks continued
working on the list. “Our team for one. But I’d rather not go to the stinkin’
party.”

“Then why do you
have to?”

“Because the
Commandant of the Marine Corps called me with a request that
I
find the perfect
gift, and present it.”

“Yeah but the
key word is
requested
.”

“Solomon, in the
military a request is a command no matter how polite,” Parks told him. “But I
sure wish he wouldn’t have requested this. The last time I went to anything
formal was when I went to the Marine Corps Birthday Ball wearing butter bars
and a pizza stain. That was my first year in the Corps, and the last time I’ll
go to the Birthday Ball for a while if I can help it. I hate parties.”

“Butter bars?”
Solomon asked. “What are butter bars?”

“Gold second
lieutenant bars. That’s a slang word for them.”

“And you were eating
pizza?” Solomon pressed even though he knew he kept interrupting Parks.

“No Solomon,
that’s what they call the National Defense Medal. It’s red and yellow and every
new Marine gets it if they sign up during a time of war. Sometimes they call it
a fire watch medal too.”

“All right, one
more question,” Solomon pleaded.

Parks set his
pen down and looked up at Solomon. “One more. What is it?”

“Why do you hate
parties? I think they’re kind of fun.”

“Look, I like
celebrating the Marine Corps Birthday and all but things just didn’t go well
that day.”

“Why not?”

“This may shock
you, but I have a slight aversion to germs. So anyway, I had to eat there, and
I just couldn’t bear the thought of who cooked the food, you know? It was good
food but who knows who made it, so I was totally disgusted. Then, the guy on my
right – he was a sergeant major I think – he sneezed and that just did it for
me. I
could not
eat any more. And then my CO started introducing me to a
bunch of guys and their wives and I was like forget it man I’m out of here.”

“What’s wrong
with that?”

“Well I’m not a
really social person, and I’m not a big fan of meeting new people – you know,
you have to shake their hand, tell them all about yourself. I just don’t like
it.”

Solomon twisted
his face. “I’d say you have a
major
aversion to germs.”

Parks stared up
at Solomon. “You want to know the last time I was sick? When I was eight, and
that was because my brother had just been killed. Being anti-germs works. And
not only will germs make you sick, they’re just gut-wrenching to be around.”

Solomon burst
out laughing and went into hysterics. “Remind me not to invite you for Easter
dinner,” he said between gasps for air.

Parks refused to
laugh. “Are you gonna leave this office or am I gonna have to drag you out?” he
asked jestingly.

After several
minutes Solomon finally mellowed out.

“What are you
going to give the President,” he wondered.

“Maybe you can
help me, Solomon,” Parks announced hopefully. “I don’t have a clue what I’m
going to give him but I need to figure it out very soon. I’ve gone over
everything from a Marine Corps emblem tie, to an Outstanding Civilian Service Medal,
to an engraved KA-BAR, and nothing seems to be proper. I don’t know the
President that well so it’s hard.”

Solomon thought
long and hard. “Well all I can advise is that you talk to the First Lady. She’ll
know.”

“Forget about
it, I ain’t doing that. I’ve never even seen the First Lady, and she’s never
seen me. There’s no way. Solomon, I know nothing about this First Family except
that they are the First Family. I voted for President Winnfield because he’s a
great conservative but that’s where my knowledge of him stops.”

“You know he was
an Army colonel, don’t you?”

Parks went back
to writing. “Yeah, but what am I supposed to do, get him an Army Strong plaque?
I’m a Marine, and this present is from the Marines. I won’t lower myself to the
Army’s level.”

“I was thinking
more of those toy soldiers,” Solomon joked. “That’d be kind of cool.”

“Then let the Army do that. I’m not going to give the President a bag of
plastic soldiers. I have to find something manly, something tough, something
Marine Corps. And nothing Army related will fill that bill.”

*          *          *

Renee Winnfield
was more excited than she’d been in a long time. Her mom had just called,
explaining how a birthday party was going to be thrown for her dad. The best
part about it was that she was not only invited but her mom had already lined
up all of the flight details. Renee would leave for D.C. on the morning of the
14
^th
, arrive at the White House sometime around noon, and then spend
the rest of the day preparing for the party.

She was excited
to see her dad again and she was very anxious to see her mom, especially since
the two hadn’t seen each other since the inauguration.

Renee picked up
her desk phone and punched in her second-in-command’s extension number.

“Online Business
Transactions – Marco Kormas,” the man mumbled wearily.

“Hey Mar this is
Renee.”

The man’s voice
perked up instantly. “Well hello, how are you? And for what do I receive this
call?”

Renee stared out
the window of her perfectly-decorated office, five floors above the ground, and
noticed the clear blue sky. It was a beautiful day, too nice to be stuck in an
office building. But she didn’t have a choice, she had work to do. The
multimillionaire CEO would be glad to take a vacation. She hadn’t had one in
two full years, but just last week she had made arrangements to vacation in Montana sometime in June. But now that she would be traveling to her dad’s birthday party,
it was going to be called off.

“There’s been a
change in plans,” she explained. “I’m going to be taking about a week’s
vacation starting on the 14
^th
. I’ll be back to work by Monday the 21
^st
.”

“Still going to Montana?” Kormas asked.

“No, I’m going
to see my parents. My dad’s going to have a birthday party – it’s his
fifty-fifth.”

“Sounds like
fun. But I thought you were finally going to see Montana. You’ve been talking
about it ever since I started working here.”

“I’ll go there
eventually, Mar, don’t worry.”

“You sure will,”
Kormas confirmed. “If I have to rent my father’s Gulfstream V jet to get you
there I will. This business can’t have a work-weary owner you know.”

Renee smiled to
herself. “Thanks Mar. Anyway, I’ll need you to take things over while I’m gone.
Can you handle that?”

“Sure. I could
make a great business partner you know.”

Renee shook her
head in denial but didn’t say anything.

“Are you still
there?” Kormas wondered after a long silence.

“Oh, sorry, I
was just thinking.” Renee tapped her fingers on the desk in front of her and
sighed. “I’d better let you go; I still have much to do.”

“Uh, okay.
Goodbye.”

Renee hung up the phone, stood up, and began pacing her office. It was
going to be hard for her to wait until she headed for D.C.