by Lewis, Rykar
He quickly reached the building and called for help in transporting Solomon up the ladder to the roof which had been placed there for that express purpose. After Solomon was taken up, Norse reached the top.
“Take him away!” he commanded generically. “He’s hurt bad!”
Marler, Samuels, and Lee lifted Solomon onto a stretcher and put him into one of the Ospreys.
“Everyone’s here, let’s get going,” one of the CIA agents suggested.
“Yeah let’s go,” Norse said as everyone began loading up.
The Viper Team Seven and some others began loading into the Osprey and Norse was the last to throw in his M4 and stick his head inside. Then he suddenly thought of something.
“Wait a minute,” he whispered to himself. Then he shouted, “Where’s KP?”
The team exchanged looks and shrugged their shoulders.
“We need to get going,” the same agent stated. “You want us all to die?”
Norse grabbed his M4. “Take this Osprey away,” he ordered. “I’m going to find Parks. Pilot, you have one of these transport helicopters and its gunships stick around and have them radio me if Parks comes here.”
Without another word, Norse slammed the door and began to leave. He was soon joined, however, by Samuels, Lee, Marler, and Corley, who were armed and ready to go.
“All right then let’s go!” Norse shouted as the Osprey that carried Solomon took off. “We’ve got work to do!”
* * *
Parks awoke to water being thrown in his face. It took a minute for his eyes to clear and then he realized he was looking at a Lebanese soldier. Parks froze with shock.
“Come,” the soldier declared in passable English.
Parks stood up with great pain and exited the small cement room he had been in and entered a much larger one.
“If you’re wondering where you are, I’ll tell you,” the soldier began. “You’re in a war bunker underneath Tripoli. Many top officials hid here during your nation’s bombardment.”
Parks was ordered to wait and he did so. The larger room was surrounded with guards. Parks knew he was in a bad fix.
A door swung open and a large group of men came in. One zip-tied Parks’ hands, while the others merely watched.
“I am Jamil Zacka,” a man said in English as he stepped toward Parks from the group. “I am the chief of staff.”
Parks said nothing.
“This is Captain Hamzah,” Zacka continued, pointing to the man on his right.
“Captain of what?” Parks asked as he stared the man directly in the eye.
“A sometimes-captain of our army,” Zacka explained. “He’s a Palestinian that is known to be a terrorist for someone you know. Alka vun Buvka.”
Parks didn’t give the reaction that he knew Zacka was expecting. “He’s captain of nothing what are you chief of staff of?”
“The Lebanese government,” Zacka stated. “If you’re wondering why I’m here, I had to meet a very important man. You know him I believe.”
Someone stepped up from behind the group and Parks almost fell over backwards. There in front of him was none other than Nathanial Roxon, the Secret Service Director.
“So you were the mole,” Parks accused, hatred rising in his voice. “You’re the–”
“Silence,” Zacka ordered. “Do you now wonder why we decided to capture you instead of just kill you when we found you? Mr. Roxon says you are important, and I intend to use you for my benefit.”
“I’d like to see you try,” Parks retorted.
Zacka punched Parks right in the stomach and he keeled over.
“You get my meaning?” the Lebanese man asked.
“Anyway, you are a fool, Parks,” Roxon spat. “If you’d have turned your satellite phone on the NSA would have contacted you and told you that I was the mole. What an unfortunate mistake.”
Parks kicked himself. He must have accidentally turned off the phone after the call with the National Security Advisor.
“I made a run for it soon after Smith called you,” Roxon went on. “I took my personal G5 right to this point. The little followers that were assigned to me never knew I was gone, and they never will. I contacted Mr. Zacka while I was on the run and told him to move the warheads. But there was not enough time. And we could do nothing to stop the U.S.’s attack. I didn’t know where your team would be coming in because Smith took complete care of that. Otherwise I’d have killed all of you.”
“You knew we were coming in for the warheads,” Parks declared. “So why didn’t you post your army around here?”
“To tell you the truth, we did,” Zacka replied. “But it was like finding a needle in a haystack. Besides we need to save our troops.”
“For what?” Parks demanded.
“For when your U.S. Marines come into our homeland,” Zacka answered. “They may find our two-nation alliance a little hard to chew.”
Parks laughed right in the man’s face. “The runts of the Middle East are going to give the Marines a fight? I really don’t think so.”
Zacka tried to slap Parks across the face but he ducked just in time.
“Forget it,” Roxon commanded. “He’ll be useful for when the Marines do come, and there’ll be a lot of time to torture him until then. Leastwise someone else would like to speak to our friend.”
“Why are you giving all the orders?” Parks questioned. “You must be pretty high up in this regime.”
“If it wasn’t for me, the terror group that plagues your life wouldn’t exist.”
“So you headed up all these attacks? Why?”
“I’ve always dreamed of getting even with the U.S. Ever since my father was ruthlessly killed in a military operation in Vietnam. It ruined the rest of my family’s lives. I later joined the Secret Service, hoping to get an opportunity to be placed on the President’s security detail; maybe get a chance to kill him, whoever he would be. When I moved up the ranks so fast my desire left. But then my only son was killed in Iraq. I had begged him not to join the CIA but he did it anyway. A form of my old feelings came back in an instant. I then knew that the U.S. had to be destroyed. She was causing too much strife in the world, killing too many people. I knew that the world would be better without the United States, that, though it would be horrific at first, her destruction was the only way to happiness. So I got in touch with Hezbollah terrorists. They asked for information that I could easily obtain on how to attack the U.S. I was told to make contact through middlemen in Mexico. Again, before I knew it, I was a very valuable asset, all the while fooling everyone in the U.S. Government about my actions. Soon I was contacted by Lebanon, requesting assistance to construct an infallible plan to attack either Israel or America. All it took was a well-formulated plan and I instantly found myself in charge of their terrorism operations. I helped purchase and merge Hamas and Hezbollah. I trained new terrorists all around the Middle East that no one could indentify.”
“You’re crazy,” Parks fired back. “I can’t believe that you’re so deranged because of your losses that you’re dumb enough to think that destroying the U.S. is going to give you happiness.”
“My deceased family members merit revenge.” Roxon paused and never continued.
Zacka nodded to someone in the rear who came forward.
“Do you remember me?” Hamzah asked suddenly.
Parks shook his head. “I don’t take note of trash.”
“Very funny. You may remember my brother. He was in a terror training camp in Afghanistan the night your Marines stormed it. Remember?”
“I didn’t get acquainted with those terrorists,” Parks shot back. “I just saw to it that they were killed.”
“Well my brother’s death needs to be avenged,” Hamzah finalized. “You’re responsible for his death so now I will kill you.”
A semi-auto pistol was thrust in Parks’ face but then Roxon pushed it down.
“We need him, Captain,” Roxon told him. “Don’t kill him. Yet. You ca
n beat him up a little though.”
Hamzah smiled wickedly and moved toward Parks.
“Give me a chance to defend myself,” Parks asked as he calculated his next move.
“No such deal,” Hamzah growled.
He swung at Parks’ head and Parks ducked the blow and hit the terrorist in the gut with his doubled fists. Just then, two gun barrels were pushed to Parks’ head as his loss of blood began to weaken him.
Hamzah regained himself and stepped forward again. “You will not do that again,” he angrily assured Parks.
Just then the cement door leading to the holding room flung open. The guns were taken off Parks’ head as everyone turned to see who it was. Five men rolled into the room, guns blazing. Parks recognized his team and he punched the guard to his right and leaped for his rifle. He grasped the firearm but he couldn’t use it since his hands were bound.
Moments later, after intense gunfire, someone pulled him to his feet. Parks looked at the man and saw it was Norse.
“Let’s go,” Norse commanded once the room was cleared. He then cut off the zip tie and Parks was free.
“Thanks,” Parks told him as he was tossed an M4.
“You lead to the helicopter,” Norse suggested as he reloaded his carbine.
“All right let’s get out of this place!” Parks shouted with joy. “Let’s get rolling!”
The Viper Team Seven rushed out of the bunker and up to the surface. The top was somewhat calm, except for the sound of sirens and an occasional scream or two. Parks led the way, taking guidance from Norse on where to go.
“How’d you find me?” Parks asked Norse as they dashed for the building.
“I just went where I found Solomon last and searched around. There were a few soldiers guarding the bunker entrance so that’s how I guessed what was there,” Norse responded.
“It was tucked away pretty good,” Parks pointed out.
“Yeah it was, but investigating is my job remember?”
Parks smiled and tried to keep up the run. His blood loss was weakening him and he hoped he would make it.
Sweat dries, blood clots, bones heal. Suck it up. Be a Marine, Parks said to himself.
“You need some help?” Norse asked caringly, evidently seeing Parks’ pain.
Parks smiled. “No, I think I can manage. But thanks a lot, Greg.”
Along the way several soldiers put up a resistance. They were no match for the six men, however, and were easily taken out.
Finally, Parks and his team reached the building, but there was nothing there.
“Where’d the helicopters go?” Norse wondered in dismay. “They couldn’t have left.”
“Maybe they took to the sky for safety,” Parks suggested.
The team climbed to the top of the building and was forced to fend off several attackers from below. It wasn’t a hard job, and no one was scathed by the ordeal.
Then from above, the sound of helicopter rotors could be heard. Everyone looked up and saw the Marine helicopters descending to the building’s roof. A cheer went up as the Osprey landed on the makeshift landing pad and the Vipers hovered around protectively.
“Load up guys,” Parks said as he pulled open the door. “We’re as good as home.”
The team entered the helicopter and Parks was the last one in. He slammed the door closed and felt the Osprey begin to rise.
“USS Wasp, this is EAGLE SEVEN,” the pilot spoke into his radio. “The VIPER TEAM SEVEN is secure. I repeat, the VIPER TEAM SEVEN is secure. Out.”
The Osprey flew over Lebanon, flanked by the two Viper gunships, heading for the Marine amphibious ship the USS Wasp, waiting not far away.
Thank You God, Parks prayed. “Thanks guys,” he said to his team. “Thanks a lot.”
Parks knew that this day would be remembered in anti-terrorism history. Everyone on the expanded team would be, but especially the Viper Team Seven consisting of three CIA agents, three FBI agents, and one United States Marine – Major Keith Parks.