by C. G. Cooper
The second and probably more important reason was that the entire company harbored a deep and open respect for the Stokes family. Col. Stokes was a tough but fair man. He always made time for his family and was known for walking the halls and kicking his employees out so they could spend time with their own loved ones.
Every person up and down the chain felt like they had earned the title of SSI employee. The feeling was very similar to the young man crossing the parade deck and finally being called a Marine. It was an atmosphere that Cal Sr. worked hard to foster from the beginning.
Other key players in the SSI family also came from employment similar to Cal’s cousin. There was the logistics chief, Martin Farmer, a former Marine Master Sergeant who’d been relieved of duty after falling deep into alcoholism and depression upon coming home from deployment to find his wife sleeping with the Marine next door. There had been no violence, only the swift decline of a man once revered by his peers and now hindered by the bottle.
Farmer’s crusty old Sergeant Major was the one to give Col. Stokes the heads-up. The Sergeant Major and Colonel had served together on two separate occasions and held each other in high regard. So when the phone call came from his former Marine, he was glad to help.
He’d reviewed the Master Sergeant’s record that, minus the present problem, was exemplary, including two meritorious promotions. Next he hopped a flight to Camp Lejeune and was formally introduced by the Sergeant Major.
Col. Stokes recognized the pain in the man’s eyes and made a deal with him. He would pay for the man’s rehabilitation and counseling. At the end of the program, if Farmer came out clean, he would be hired at SSI. Like most Marines, MSgt Farmer was a proud man and fully appreciated the helping hand he’d received. He flew through recovery and reported in to work ninety days later, right after a brief stop in North Carolina to finalize his divorce.
MSgt Farmer became one of Cal Sr.’s brightest stars and totally revamped SSI’s logistics division. It seemed early on that Col. Stokes had an eye for talent.
All along the way, Cal Jr. became a welcome aide to the SSI CEO. He’d often sit in on high level meetings and interviews. Sometimes he was in the room; other times he was next door listening through the conference intercom system. Cal learned that his father was a special man that invested in his fellow man first in order to better himself and others. Cal learned that his father had a special place in his heart for those in need of a second chance, but that second chances always came with stipulations. Cal Sr.’s sense of morality was strong when it came down to the activity that caused any potential employee to get into trouble.
He remembered the time an old friend had gone out on a limb for a certain Navy Master Chief. Apparently the two didn’t quite know each other but somehow the Master Chief knew enough people to get referred to Col. Stokes. The story Cal Sr. received from his old friend differed drastically from the story that finally came out of the ill-fated Master Chief’s mouth. Apparently the sailor believed that ANY first infraction warranted a second chance in the mind of the founder of SSI. He soon found out otherwise.
It quickly surfaced that the man had twisted his story in order to gain sympathy with his former commander. The commander (an old friend of Col. Stokes) took the man for his word and was more than happy to pass along a supposedly trust-worthy sailor to his buddy.
It turned out that the man had severely beaten two young sailors who’d just reported into his unit. Apparently alcohol was involved and what started as an innocent hazing ritual soon turned violent.
Sitting in front of Col. Stokes, it was obvious the sailor still held no remorse for the situation. He actually had the audacity to blame the Navy for accusing him unjustly. Little did the man know that Col. Stokes held no room in his world for bullies and liars. The man was swiftly escorted out by Travis and two other former SEALs, and a report was submitted to Col. Stokes’ friend which he in turn filed with the Navy.
It was during this altercation that Cal finally understood his father’s true sense of right and wrong. He believed that any abuse or offense against a lesser human being was immoral. At the same time, Cal Sr. did believe that there are times when a man must take the law into his own hands as long as it was the right thing to do.
Cal asked his father about this supposed duplicity and he’d listened as Cal Sr. calmly explained that although America was the best country in the world, even America’s laws were not always fair to all and oftentimes sheltered criminals for the sake of due process.
His son knew his father approved certain covert missions for various government agencies that, if seen by the liberal media, would be criticized as being barbaric and unconstitutional. Each of these undertakings was always scrutinized for its ethical basis by the headquarters team at SSI. A mission was never green-lit if the outcome and the methods did not live up to SSI’s high moral standard.
Col. Stokes would later solidify his belief with a motto he would dub Corps Justice.
BRIAN: So let me get this right, this company is gonna be yours?
CAL: Well, I guess technically it is mine.
BRIAN: Holy shit! You’re like a billionaire!
CAL (sheepishly): Not really. I guess you’d call me a multi-millionaire. Don’t spread that around.
BRIAN: Are you kidding me? No one would believe that a dumb grunt like you is a billionaire anyway.
CAL: Millionaire!
BRIAN: Whatever. It’s all the same.
CAL: Do you want to hear the rest of the story of not?
BRIAN (snootily): All right, go on Mr. Billionaire.
Cal ignored the comment and continued.
CAL: So my Dad taught me that many worlds exist within the law. He learned early on in the security business that he would have access to certain intel that could benefit others for good and bad. His deep sense of moral duty kept him from profiting from the bad side. At the same time, he knew there was a huge gray area left for him to interpret.
BRIAN: I’m not following you.
CAL: OK. I remember Dad telling me the story of the first instance when he hit a real gray area. On a certain job a few years back, one of his SSI passive surveillance teams found out that a neighbor of the target was running an illegal prostitution and drug ring and that both the woman and drugs were being supplied from Taiwan.
BRIAN: All right. So he just gave that intel to the cops, right?
CAL: Nope. Think about it. Every American citizen has a certain right to privacy. Technically, the intel was gathered because one of the team members was curious about the girls coming in and out of the house. So the team shifted a couple of listening devices over to the other house along with a camera and just monitored it for a couple days. Well, they found out pretty quickly what was going on but the dilemma was the legality of the source of information. Any two-bit lawyer could’ve had the case thrown out of court.
BRIAN: There’s gotta be something the authorities could’ve done.
CAL: Their hands are tied, man! They would’ve loved nothing more than to bust that whole thing down. Our company has a lot of contacts in local law enforcement so one of our guys cautiously asked what they would do with the situation without giving away the details like location, et cetera. The cops basically said that unless they were allowed to build the case from the ground up or catch the ring red-handed, there’s not much they could do.
BRIAN: But that’s bullshit! They’re here to protect us from that kind of stuff.
CAL: I know. But remember that in order to live in a democracy like we have in this country, certain laws must be in place to protect individual freedom and avoid abuse of that freedom.
BRIAN (confused): All right, so you’re telling me that your dad just sat on the intel and did nothing?
CAL (smiling): That’s the opposite of what he did.
BRIAN: You gonna tell me or just sit there with that cheesy grin on your face?
CAL: I know I don’t have to say this to you but I will anyway: you can’t say any
thing about what you see around here to anyone outside SSI. Oh, and don’t go telling Travis what I’ve told you. I don’t think he’d care, considering who you are, but I don’t want him to think I’ve been running my mouth.
BRIAN: Who do you think I am? I know how to keep my mouth shut.
CAL: OK. So my Dad ordered the team to wait until the original mission was over. He didn’t want to tip off the ring leaders. Once the first job was finished, the team covertly rounded up all the ringleaders and made them get caught.
BRIAN: What do you mean MADE them get caught?
CAL: Some of our top snoopers caught the guys, tranquilized them and set them all up in one of their vans in a park down the street. The team loaded the criminals with some booze and their own dope so it looked like they’d passed out after a little partying. They loaded all the drugs and their weapon stash in the back of the van so when the cops were anonymously tipped off, the drug dealers and pimps woke up to a slew of cops yelling at them to come out with their hands up and get on the ground. I heard the whole thing was pretty funny.
BRIAN: What about the slaves they had in the house?
CAL: For their own safety, they were knocked out too and a minor fire was set. Just enough for the alarm system to alert the fire department. When the fire department busted in and searched the house, they found the girls locked in a back room.
BRIAN: I still don’t see why the cops couldn’t have just knocked down the door and swept the place.
CAL: That sounds easy, but think about those raids you did with your Marines over in Iraq. Did you ever like going into a situation not knowing what you were gonna get? Who knew what those guys would’ve done to the local cops busting down the door? The way our team did it, no one was hurt and the criminals were dealt with.
Brian still didn’t look totally convinced.
CAL: Are you really so naïve to think that the police can do anything they want? Come on, Doc. You’ve seen the shitty things people do in this world.
BRIAN: I know. I guess I never really thought about it that much until now. It’s like the cops are handcuffed from doing their duty. Reminds me of those times in Iraq when the Rules of Engagement kept my Marines from killing bad guys.
CAL (nodding): Exactly. If they don’t do things by the book these good cops that don’t get paid squat could lose their jobs. The law’s made it to where police hesitate because they’re worried about getting in trouble.
BRIAN: Yeah. Last week I saw that some cop was getting sued by a guy who got shot while robbing a bank. The cop shot him AFTER the guy shot one of the tellers and refused to give up. It’s bullshit.
CAL: Yep. That’s where Corps Justice comes in.
BRIAN: Explain that.
CAL: Like I told you before, my Dad lived and breathed the Marine Corps way. It was my fault he got out of the Corps, but you could never take the Corps out of him. That, mixed with his moral sense of right and wrong, made him adopt his motto about Corps Justice.
BRIAN: So is this Corps Justice like a company credo or something?
CAL: Kind of. It’s more of an overarching guidance for SSI employees for when they encounter gray areas.
BRIAN: Is it written somewhere?
CAL: For obvious reasons we can’t publish it.
Cal paused and reached for his wallet. He pulled out what looked like a business card on tattered paper. He handed it to Brian.
CAL: I got that from my dad when I went off to college.
Brian looked down at the card:
Corps Justice
1. We will protect and defend the Constitution of the United States.
2. We will protect the weak and punish the wicked.
3. When the laws of this nation hinder the completion of these duties, our moral compass will guide us to see the mission through.
Brian looked up at Cal.
BRIAN: Cal, to me this looks like you can do whatever you want as long as you think it’s right.
CAL: I know that’s how it seems but you have to remember that my dad’s moral compass wouldn’t allow us to conduct acts of undue aggression. Besides, only the top management within SSI can green light those kinds of jobs. Dad handpicked that leadership.
BRIAN: Does this come up a lot?
CAL: I don’t think so. Keep in mind that most of the work SSI does is consulting and training. Yes, we do have security teams and quick reaction forces, but most of the missions they undertake are cut and dry. There’s typically a clear bad guy and that’s who we’re sent in to take care of.
BRIAN: It sounds more like the gigs you take on are government sanctioned.
CAL: Keep in mind that I don’t know everything. I don’t work here. But you’re right. The federal government is our biggest customer, but we have a lot of divisions that trump even that big account.
BRIAN: Really? Like what?
CAL: We do a lot of R&D work and either sell the final product or retain the rights. There’s a lot of money in that kind of stuff.
BRIAN: I’ll bet. Are you gonna run the company?
CAL: Nope. Trav is better at it than I would be. I’ll probably be involved somehow, but he’s a much better schmoozer than I am. Plus I’ve still got some things to take care of.
Cal gazed out the expansive windows. Brian looked at his new friend, trying to comprehend the immense pain in the man’s eyes. He decided to prod Cal on.
BRIAN: So tell me how the hell you went into the Marine Corps instead of working here?
Cal maintained his gaze for a moment, and then turned to Brian.
CAL: I started my first year of college at the University of Virginia in 1998. My parents were excited about the high caliber of The University but they still wanted me close. By that time, the company was doing a lot more work with the feds. Dad had anticipated the rise of terrorism, and built the company to combat those threats with the ability to augment the American military. He was even doing some work for our allies like the U.K. and Germany.
Cal paused and shifted his weight, trying to find the right words.
CAL: Like I said, my parents were really happy about me going to U.Va but still wanted to see me. I wanted the same thing. We’d been through a lot together. The great thing about money is that there’s not much you can’t do when you have it. At that point, SSI was probably a tenth of what it is now but Mom and Dad had more money than they could ever spend. Well, on one of their trips to Charlottesville to watch a U.Va football game and visit me, Dad went house shopping. I thought he was just looking for a condo or something they could stay in for weekend trips. Dad didn’t come from much money but always loved the idea of owning land. He always told me that land was one thing you could never reproduce or take away from a man. In Albemarle County, Virginia there’s a lot of land. You know Monticello, right?
BRIAN: Yeah, that was Thomas Jefferson, right?
CAL: Yep. Founded U.Va too. Anyway, there are a lot of estates like that out there. So Dad goes out and finds a spread a lot like this one here. Around two thousand acres. He called it his little getaway. What he ended up doing was turning that into our second headquarters. He called it Camp Cavalier because I was at U.Va. It turned out great because he built an almost identical campus there that we have here in Nashville. That gave the SSI the ability to be really close to Washington, D.C.
BRIAN: I’ll bet your parents spent more time there too.
CAL: Yeah. It was great to have them close by and they understood that I needed my space too. They’d come over for football games and sometime take me out to dinner. That was a great three years.
Cal paused and returned his gaze to the window and continued.
CAL: In the fall of 2001 I was starting my last year in school. My parents had just been by to visit, and then they headed up to D.C. to visit new clients and old friends. They were going to jump on a plane out to Los Angeles for a quick vacation then head down to Camp Pendleton to see some more friends and fit a little work in too. My parents boarded American Airlines Fligh
t 77 the morning of September 11th. They tried to call me from the plane when it became clear to my dad that the flight was hijacked. I was in class and didn’t get the call. Both calmly told me that they loved me in hushed voices and my dad told me they’d always be with me.