by Lewis, Rykar
“You aren’t going to have problems with me,” Samuels assured him.
“Me either,” Corley agreed.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” Norse stated. “Like you or not, I want to keep my job.”
“That’s all I care about,” Parks replied. “I’m not asking for a friend, I just need a team member who can be counted on.”
“I can be counted on,” Lee confirmed.
“We’ll get this one right, KP,” Marler conceded.
Parks looked to Solomon. “You have any concerns, Solomon?”
“My only concern is that we’re gonna put the Army’s Delta Force, the Navy’s SEAL Team Six, and every other counterterrorism operator out of business,” he finalized. “But I’d rather them lose their jobs than us.”
Parks figured he was going to get some smart comment out of Solomon, and he did. In actuality, Parks didn’t think that would be a bad idea to put those other teams out of operation. But it all had to start here and now.
“All right, let’s go over our plan one more time,” Parks declared. “The main goal of this operation is to capture vun Buvka alive. That’s not going to be an easy job, but here’s how we’ll do it. We’ll helicopter in to our position just below Lebanon, Tennessee. We should get there with plenty of time before the terrorists do. I’m going to have two men, Solomon and Phillip, drive blockade vehicles. You will time it so one of you will drive in front of the terrorists and the other behind them, very inconspicuously of course. I’ll post you out about three miles from our position. The rest of us will be waiting on both sides of the road. Solomon, you’ll be in the vehicle ahead of the terrorists, and when you get close to our position, radio in to me and let me know you’re coming. When the terrorists are right in front of us I’ll radio you to spin your vehicles sideways and block both lanes. You’ll be armed so you can help with the fight.”
“When the vehicle blockades are in place, those of us by the roadside will begin our part of the operation,” Parks continued. “We’ll be split on either side, and I want a man on each wing to be armed with an M203 grenade launcher. Their job will be to fill the terrorists’ vehicle with CS gas grenades. The remaining few will be armed with M4 carbines, and they’ll need to blow the vehicle’s tires to ensure they won’t escape. When the CS gas forces the terrorists out, they’ll come shootin’. Now here’s the critical part. Remember that we can shoot back and kill a few of the terrorists, but we cannot kill vun Buvka. We are allowed to wound him but only do that if necessary, because we all know, wounds can kill.”
“You have all seen vun Buvka’s picture, and that’s the best description we have of him,” Parks admitted. “It’s going to be tough to confirm which one’s him, but just take your time and aim well. My Commander’s Intent is, capture vun Buvka, alive.”
* * *
Parks radioed in to VIPER BRAVO and VIPER CHARLIE who would be driving the lead and rear vehicles respectively. “VIPER BRAVO, this is VIPER ALPHA, can you hear me? Over.”
The radio cracked to life. “Roger that, VIPER ALPHA, I hear you perfectly. How’s everything on your end? Over.”
Parks and his team had landed at the Air Force base not a half hour ago and they had been rushed to this spot by helicopter.
“We’re not set up yet,” Parks informed him. “VIPER FOXTROT and I are on the right, and VIPER DELTA, ECHO, and GOLF, are on the left. Break. What are you and VIPER CHARLIE up to? Over.”
“We’re sittin’ in this undercover spot waiting for them to come by. Break. When they do, I’ll perform some fancy passing to where I’ll get in front of the targets without them even suspecting anything. Over.”
“Sounds good, VIPER BRAVO. Keep us up-to-date. Out.”
Parks faced Lee who was messing around with the grenade launcher. “You sure you know how to handle one of those things?”
“I’ve been shootin’ these since you were in kindergarten, buddy,” Lee bragged. “Don’t you waste your worries on me.”
Parks didn’t say anything else as he checked to make sure his M4 was loaded and ready to go. It was true that he had many other demanding issues to worry about. He just hoped Lee was as dependable as he said he was.
“Is the team across the road ready to go?” Lee wondered.
“I don’t know. But I’m gonna find out.” Parks grabbed his radio. “VIPER ECHO, this is VIPER ALPHA. Are you ready? Over.”
The reply took a minute but it finally came. “VIPER ALPHA, we’re ready when you are. Over.”
“Correction, VIPER ECHO, you mean when our targets are ready. Over,” Parks corrected humorously.
“Sure, VIPER ALPHA, you know what I mean. Anyway, we’ll be standing by. Out.”
Parks set down his radio, took in a deep breath, and said, “Hey Eric, they’re ready. Now the question is are we?”
“If you are I am. How far away you think these terrorists are, KP?”
Parks shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. We may have some time to wait though.”
Only a few minutes passed and both men grew tired of staring at the empty road. Questions kept filling Parks’ mind, however, and made him uneasy. Would the terrorists go another way? Would they manage to dodge his team like the last operation? If so, what would he do then?
Lee seemed to read his mind and tried to comfort him. “Everything will work out all right, you wait and see. Bad things do happen, but when things are at their worst they can only get better. And it would seem to me that they were already at their worst.”
Parks agreed and tried to occupy his mind with something else. When he heard an airplane fly overhead he tried to identify it. “You see that plane? Isn’t that a Gulfstream IV?”
“No way, KP. That’s an old 707,” Lee corrected. “My dad was an Air Force air traffic controller and he taught me how to identify every kind of plane, both civilian and military.”
Slightly embarrassed at his ignorance, Parks triple-checked his carbine and stared down the road. Everything was ready, now all that was needed was their target.
* * *
“They’re what?” The D/CIA couldn’t believe what he was hearing but the senior FBI watch officer on duty was adamant that the terrorists had indeed changed course.
“Yes sir, the terrorists have changed interstates at Nashville and are now driving northeast on I-65. It doesn’t make sense. If the terrorists really are going to D.C., I-65 would be the longer route.”
“It could be that they’re just not heading to D.C. at all,” Cummins suggested.
“That could be a possibility, but I’d say they’re just doing this to throw people off – but then again it’s not like they know there are any people after them.”
Cummins tugged hard on his ear as he debated what to do. Of course he knew he had to report this up the chain of command but what would he say? What would he advise?
“Man this is bad,” he told the watch officer. “This just wrecks everything.” Now we’re going to have to get the team back in the helicopter and transport them northeast, he thought. “Oh, this is so bad. We’ve got to do something quickly.”
The watch officer blew his nose and stared at his boss. “Why don’t you just report it, sir, and make it someone else’s worry?”
“It isn’t someone else’s worry, it’s mine. I’m going to report it but I’ve got to do my job as well. You need to leave my office; I’ve got to call the President.”
The watch officer complied and as soon as he shut the door, the D/CIA picked up a phone and dialed the White House. After speaking with the operator and giving his identification, Cummins was patched through and heard the President’s desk phone begin to ring.
“Hi Mike; what is it?” Winnfield answered.
“Uh, Mr. President, I have to tell you something. It’s not good.”
* * *
For the second time of the day, the President, Vice President, and Directors gathered in the Situation Room. Things were not going as planned and a plan B needed to b
e formed as quickly as possible. The Viper Team Seven had been notified about the incident and had been ordered to stand by at Arnold until ordered otherwise. Time was running out, and the terrorists were constantly getting closer to their target city.
“All right Mr. Director, tell us everything you know,” the President said seriously. “We need intel, we need info, and we need some kind of intervention. Go ahead.”
The D/CIA swallowed hard and wondered what he really knew. “To tell you the truth, Mr. President, I don’t really know what’s going on. All I do know is that the terrorists are now heading northeast on I-65 instead of I-40. They turned off somewhere around Nashville, and they skirted around Parks just like they knew he was there.”
“They couldn’t have known that,” Roxon stated. “I mean, how could they have?”
“I don’t know how. Frankly I don’t think that’s our biggest concern right now. Taking out these terrorists is. Now I am just going to try to shoot the moon and say that they’re still heading for us. It seems like the most likely scenario. Maybe I’m wrong.”
“So what does that prove?” Watkins asked. “We still need to take them out.”
“I’ll tell you what that proves,” Smith began. “It proves that vun Buvka has a plan – a great one. He must feel that it’s going to work well if he’s bold enough to attack Washington D.C.”
“All the more reason to take them out before anything can happen,” Anders threw in. “But how? Are we going to try the same thing we just did?”
“I think we could get by doing that,” the Secret Service Director advised. “It’s a good plan and I doubt the terrorists will change course this time.”
“I’d be willing to agree with that,” the D/CIA told the President. “But I guess the question is where. Location is critical now. We need to place Parks and his team in just the right place to where the terrorists can’t skirt around them. But where would that be?”
The answer to the question did not come for a long time until a map of the Nashville, Tennessee area was cast upon a screen. Cummins felt it his duty to lead the briefing.
“Factoring in all the highways and roads that fan out across this area, I’d say that if we placed Parks east of Portland it would block vun Buvka from traveling any farther northeast. It is a fact that the terrorists are trying to go somewhere in the northeast so the logical solution would be to block them off on I-65. If we put Parks near Portland the terrorists wouldn’t be able to reach another major interstate transition and change roads. But yes, I’d say the same plan would work.”
“Well how much traffic is around that area?” Roxon questioned. “We have to remember that this plan requires a low-traffic road.”
“We can shut down the interstate which will keep it mostly clear. But I can’t imagine there’d be too much traffic anyway,” Cummins explained.
“Isn’t one vehicle too much traffic?” Travis pointed out.
Cummins clenched his jaw in frustration. “Parks is a smart operator, he can figure a way to keep the civilians uninvolved. And if he can’t Solomon can – I can assure you of that.”
“Fine, fine, but just know I wash my hands of this whole operation if it involves any civilians,” the DNI concluded.
“It isn’t going to involve the public,” Anders reassured. “We’re going to shut down the interstate and if there are any vehicles on the road, we’ll work something out to get them to safety. Maybe we can use the police ordeal again. It’ll all go okay but we must move now.”
Silence flooded the Situation Room as each man mulled over the plan. It seemed to be the only way to go. What the Vice President had said was right; time was of the utmost importance.
* * *
It was almost an exact repeat of what had happened only a couple hours earlier. Parks and his team had loaded into the Iroquois-Hueys and were flown to their strike site. Solomon and Marler drove the blockade vehicles. Parks was beginning to think this was a drill. Things would probably be better if this all was a drill. There’d be no lives to save, no lives to lose, and no vun Buvka to catch – which was going to be quite a chore. But instinctively Parks knew it was no drill. This was real, and things were not looking good.
“Are you ready?” Parks asked Lee.
“Look, I was ready a long time ago and I had to be uprooted, so now I’m not ready. Give me a few minutes, will you?”
Parks checked over his M4 once more just to make sure everything was ready. It was, so he knelt down and waited, which was all he could do.
“VIPER ALPHA, this is VIPER BRAVO,” Solomon’s excited voice came over the radio. “Do you copy? Over.”
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 tel
l 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.
43
Wednesday, March 26th – 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.