National Burden (10 page)

Cal looked at his watch. They didn’t have much time. “Play it.”

Neil did, and the three SSI men settled in to watch.

President Zimmer said goodbye to his last appointment of the day. Normally he would’ve been working until eight, but he’d had Ellen reschedule the rest of his meetings. Senator Southgate would be arriving in a little over an hour and Cal still hadn’t called. Travis had disappeared, telling the President he’d be right back. That had been thirty minutes ago.

Zimmer’s mind raced. He would not take Southgate’s accusations lying down. Even if Cal and his team couldn’t produce the source, he would go down fighting. If he’d learned anything from his father, it was that Zimmers never gave up, always holding out until the end.

The swooshing of the reinforced door made the President turn.

“I’m sorry it took me so long, Mr. President.” Travis looked worried, a fact that did not help Zimmer’s disposition.

“Find out anything?”

“No, sir.”

“How about we order up a couple drinks. Might help to settle our nerves a bit.”

“I hate to say it, but I think you’re right. Scotch or bourbon?”

“Bourbon, please.”

Travis nodded and went to call the butler. Zimmer took a seat by the fire, remembering the days when his family had spent winter vacations in Aspen. His father had never spared any expense, always procuring a monstrous house with a roaring fireplace. Young Brandon Zimmer had often fallen asleep gazing into the glowing embers, his father and mother looking on.

He wondered why the memory suddenly appeared, quickly realizing that despite his father’s nefarious end, he would’ve paid a king’s ransom to have his father’s advice at the moment.

Travis sat down across from the President, wanting to say something, anything that would help soothe the distressed leader. But there was nothing to say. It looked like their secret was out. Cal’s father, Col. Calvin Stokes, had instituted the mantra of
Corps Justice
years earlier. It was a secret code known only to a few outside the confines of Stokes Security International. Zimmer was one of the few. 

The code read:

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.

Now the code would be lost. Travis had always feared the day would come that an outsider would twist what the brave warriors of SSI had done. It was a noble cause, defending America against its invisible enemies. Americans took for granted the layer of security provided by the visible efforts of the brave men and women in the armed forces and in law enforcement.

Most people didn’t know about the behind the scenes actions of CIA spies, black ops troops, and organizations like SSI. It wasn’t something you ran to the papers with. Citizens wouldn’t understand. The warriors who conducted silent war on battlefields at home and abroad didn’t want publicity. They knew it was better to sneak up on the enemy in the dead of night, and slither out with the task complete. As long as the mission was accomplished and the country was made safer, that’s all that mattered.

But others didn’t see it that way. Travis bet Southgate was one of those men. He didn’t know the senator personally, but he guessed that the senate veteran had been part of his fair share of efforts to curtail the missions of American intelligence and military forces. In the minds of men like Southgate, it was unconscionable to pay a murderer for information, or to threaten a man with his life in exchange for intelligence. Travis had been on countless operations where the outcome, typically the saving of countless American lives, would have been prevented had he and his troops not applied the necessary force and coercion to get the job done.

Now, Travis wasn’t naive enough to think that there were not others who used codes like Stokes’
Corps Justice
as an excuse to hurt others, and that too many times such criminals did it for their own gain. That’s why it was so important to Col. Stokes and Travis that the only leaders allowed to green-light such missions be of sound mind, with a high moral sense, selfless and honor-bound. Travis had spent his entire time at SSI weighing the pros and cons of working outside law. If there was any possibility that federal or local law enforcement could take care of the situation, the buck was passed to them.

Barring a sign from God, Travis bet that Southgate would most undoubtedly label SSI as a criminal enterprise, unworthy of praise or adulation, only fit for condemnation.

+++

Cal and Daniel watched the figures speed past the country club video camera. Neil started with the main entrance, figuring it was their best shot at identifying Southgate’s guest. It was still a long shot, but they were all hoping to recognize one of the many faces flashing across the computer screen.

They’d seen Senator Southgate dropped off, seeming slow in his gait despite the sped up feed. The recording wasn’t as clear as Cal would’ve liked. Again, the seconds and minutes were ticking by. He’d had another text from Travis asking for an update. The Marine answered the same way he had the five times before:
No news yet
.

“Hold on,” said Daniel suddenly.

Neil paused the playback. “What did you see?”

“I’m not sure. Go back a bit, to when that group of four went in.”

The video reversed, Cal and Daniel moving closer to the screen. “Right there, the guy in the back with his face down.”

Cal squinted. “Holy shit.”

“Who is it?” asked Neil.

Cal’s blood boiled. “It’s Steve Stricklin.”

Senator Milton Southgate strolled in through the back entrance, escorted by a member of the White House security. He was early, but that was okay. Let the President sweat a bit when he found out he had arrived and was waiting.

As they walked along the vaunted corridors of the symbol of the most powerful country in the world, Southgate admired every detail, from the molding to the paintings, the carpets and the valences. In his mind, the home of the leader of the free world had seen better days. He had a duty to protect the office of the president and the country. The last thing he wanted was word of the president’s actions to get out to the public. Hopefully Zimmer would take the noble path and resign. If he didn’t, the leader of the senate was prepared to do what he must.

+++

4:54 p.m.

They’d finally caught a break. While Cal and Daniel hurried to the White House, Neil tracked down the infamous Steve Stricklin. Cal and Stricklin’s relationship went back to their time in the Marine Corps. Stricklin had been then Sergeant Stokes’s platoon commander. To say the former Second Lieutenant was an ineffective leader was a major understatement. Stricklin’s career as an infantry officer quickly derailed as a result of his own ego and inability to lead Marines. The only thing he’d been good at was deflecting blame and taking credit from others.

The thought that Stricklin had once again stuck his nose in Cal’s business made the Marine tremble with rage. Not months before, Stricklin, who turned out to be the nephew of the now departed crooked congressman from Louisiana, Peter Quailen, had tried to link Cal and SSI to terrorist bombings, merely to advance his own career. Cal had thought that Stricklin’s dismissal from the FBI would’ve taught the man a lesson, but somehow the egotistical prick had weaseled his way back into Cal’s life. It would be the last time.

Agent Brett Stayer was waiting for them. “You guys sure like to cut it close. Southgate’s already here.”

“Is he with the President?”

“No. We have him waiting down the hall.”

“Good. I need at least five minutes with the President. Can you stall Southgate?”

“I’ll take care of it,” said Stayer.

Cal and Daniel entered the Oval Office in a rush. President Zimmer and Travis looked up from their conversation. “I don’t know if you should be here, Cal,” said Zimmer.

“You want me here, Mr. President. Wait until I tell you what we found.”

Zimmer and Travis listened as Cal told them about Stricklin. The President shook his head. “I don’t understand. Why would this Stricklin guy want to take me down? I don’t even know him.”

“If I had to guess, it’s all about him. This guy’s been an asshole since the minute I met him, and he’s only gotten worse. I think I was the initial target. He hates me, thinks I ruined both his Marine Corps and FBI careers. You’re just an added bonus. I’ll bet he’s having wet dreams about going down in history as the guy who torpedoed an American president.”

President Zimmer shook his head sadly. “So it’s all a game? This guy wants to get his fifteen minutes of fame?”

“I’d say so.” Cal noticed that his cousin seemed lost in thought. “What are you thinking, Trav?”

“I’m still not sure if Southgate will care. Stricklin probably produced some kind of documentation, real or fake, linking the President to us. It’s his word against ours, and from what I’ve heard about Southgate, he’s not a big fan of the CIA or security companies like SSI. What did you say he calls them, Brandon?”

“Mercenary havens. I think he’d like to see every private security company put out of business.”

The door opened and Brett Stayer stepped in. “Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt, but it’s five after five and I think I’ve stalled the senator for as long as I can. He’s getting antsy.”

Zimmer looked to his friends. Travis nodded. “Bring him in.”

+++

Senator Southgate walked into the Oval Office, his eyes narrowing upon seeing Cal and Daniel. “What are
they
doing here?” 

The president answered with a hint of anger in his tone. “
They
are my friends, Senator, and they’re here to help me explain the truth you so desperately want to hear.”

Southgate scoffed at the comment. “I know the truth. The only reason I’m here is--”

Zimmer stood up from his seat, his temper rising. “The only reason you’re here is that I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt, Senator. Don’t forget that I am still your Commander and Chief, and I will be afforded the respect of the office.”

Looking momentarily stunned, Southgate searched for the correct words. He hadn’t seen this coming, having pictured the encounter differently. It was supposed to be him calling the shots, not the president.

Finally he said, “I apologize, Mr. President. You’re right. Despite the circumstances, there is no reason I cannot be cordial.”

“Thank you, Senator. Now why don’t we have a seat and talk through this unfortunate misunderstanding.”

Southgate looked at the President incredulously, but kept his mouth shut and took a seat.

Once everyone was ready, President Zimmer asked Southgate to proceed.

The senator coughed and opened the file he’d carried in. “As I mentioned last night, certain evidence has been provided to me that indicates your knowledge and complicit involvement with Stokes Security International, a company led by the men seated in this room.”

None of the SSI men moved, their eyes glued to the senator. Their collective gaze kept Southgate from looking at them directly. He went on to describe various instances, including the murder of Congressman Peter Quailen in front of his own home, where SSI operatives, including Calvin Stokes, Jr. and Daniel Briggs, were involved both directly and indirectly in illegal activities on American soil.

Southgate looked up from his file, meeting the gaze of his audience. Again, no one said a word, a fact that slightly unnerved the senator.
Why aren’t they saying anything?
He would’ve thought the criminals would have put up some kind of fight, maybe even screamed in his face.

Another cough and he continued. He described the president’s ongoing relationship with SSI and the obvious threat to the nation’s highest office. “If you cannot see the position this puts you in, Mr. President, you are indeed more naive than I thought.”

Zimmer stared at the cocky man, deciding whether it would be better to be subtle or more direct. He chose the latter. “Are you finished?”

“I believe that is sufficient information to lead you to the correct course of action.”

“And what course of action would that be, Senator?”

Southgate thought it would have been obvious. “For you to resign, Mr. President.”

Zimmer laughed, not a chuckle, but a guttural belly laugh that lasted for a full thirty seconds. The others looked on with smiles as Southgate’s eyes went wide.