Viper Team Seven (The Viper Team Seven Series Book 1) (35 page)

“Look, Mex, I
don’t fool easy, I know you just came up from south of the border. Are you some
illegal jerk tryin’ to make a fortune in the States or somethin’?”

“If I were,
would I have enough money to rent such an expensive facility, and would I be
flying a plane such as mine?”

The man pondered
this and then snatched the money from the terrorist’s hand. “You got a deal.
But look, if you ain’t back here in a week, I confiscate that there plane. Any
questions or comments?”

Vun Buvka
sighed. He certainly hoped he’d be back in a week. The only reason he wouldn’t
be is if he died.

“I take your
silence as a ‘no,’” the man piped up. “Now get off my property, only your
plane’s allowed to stay here.”

The terrorist
reached into his plane and grabbed his luggage. “I wouldn’t want to stay here a
second longer than I had to. But thank you very much.”

The man only
grunted in response and walked away.

So this is
what the boss calls a secured airfield?
 vun Buvka asked himself.
He
just picked a personal one somewhere on the border and hoped I could persuade
the owner to store my plane.

Vun Buvka was
beginning to wonder if his boss would even be any help on the rest of this job
when a silver Suburban sped into the airfield owner’s driveway. The driver of
the vehicle stopped and waved for vun Buvka to come over.

Well at least he did secure a vehicle,
vun Buvka told himself.
If
nothing else, that’s something to be grateful for.

*          *          *

Parks and his
team were taking training to the next level. Today they were performing extreme
hand-to-hand combat situations. They were gathered outside the gym in the small
grassy area which would serve as their training field, and everyone seemed to
be ready to start.

“Solomon and I
will go first,” Parks declared as he pulled off his Marine uniform jacket.
“We’ll go easy and slow at first, and to start with we’ll use the moves we are
most comfortable with. Everyone got that?”

“Yup,” Solomon
replied as he stepped out of the group. “Any rules?”

“No. You ready?”

Solomon nodded
and the training session began.

At first,
everything was slow and deliberate, and each of them would purposely do foolish
things so the other could defend himself easily. Parks would throw a punch and
Solomon would duck or dodge it, and Solomon would perform a kick and Parks would
counter it. But when both men saw each other’s skill, they decided to step
things up a little.

Parks threw a perfect
punch with his left arm and Solomon’s hand flew out and grasped Parks’ arm
right around the elbow. Then, he stepped up and used leverage to throw Parks
down onto the grass. Next, Solomon tried to dive onto Parks but just before he
could, Parks rolled out of the way, making the agent slam onto the ground. In
perfect unison both men stood up. Now it was Parks’ turn to take the defensive,
so Solomon pivoted around and delivered a kick that would have knocked the wind
out of anyone. The Marine blocked the kick with his arms while simultaneously
grabbing Solomon’s foot and stepping into him.

“Yow,” Solomon
moaned when he fell to the ground.

“Are you okay?”
Parks asked, stepping toward him.

Solomon’s only
answer was to reach up and pull Parks down next to him. With the two of them
down, they began to practice some on-the-ground moves. As Solomon rolled up and
tried to punch Parks, Parks pushed his arm out and gripped Solomon around the
throat. He then yanked the agent down to his left just as Solomon wrapped his
hands around Parks’ hand and began bending it, which resulted in great pain on
Parks’ part.

It all ended up in
a tangled up mess, and both men could not control their laughter as they stood
up and shook hands in approval.

“Well that went
over like a – what did you say – like a fart in church,” Parks joked, slapping
Solomon on the arm.

“Yup, yup,”
Solomon exclaimed with utter glee. “It did, it did. That was fun, KP.”

“Yeah. Well
who’s next?”

“I’ll go,” Norse
offered.

“Who’ll be your
opponent?” Solomon wondered.

“I guess Marler
will do.”

“Okay,” Parks
approved as he stepped aside. “But remember; let’s keep it fun; it’s only
training.”

Norse didn’t
shoot his usual icy glare at Parks but merely did a short nod. “Will do,” he
promised as he did some last-minute stretches.

The two agents
went at it and Parks flipped open his cell phone to make sure no one had tried
to call. To his relief, no one had so he closed the phone and concentrated on
the training at hand.

Tuesday, March 25
^th
– 1230 hours

Roswell, New Mexico

Roswell, New Mexico was known for having been the landing destination of aliens, and now it
was not just a hoax, it was the dwelling place of the
illegal alien
/terrorist,
Ghazi Siraj. Sitting in an extended-stay hotel, Siraj was doing his best to
figure a way to clear his record and start anew in America. He had gone over
everything from turning himself in, to getting U.S. Citizenship, to trying to
dodge the law for the rest of his life. Nothing seemed particularly promising.

At least there
was one thing to be happy about: there was no more terrorism for him. Oh, he’d
convinced his team that he was just going to hide out until the coast was clear,
but that wasn’t the case. Siraj was completely done. He had dropped off his
team around northern New Mexico, telling each of them to fend for themselves
and to report all activity to him. Each man had a satellite phone that he had
received at the start of the operation, and that was to be his signaling device
should anything go wrong. Siraj could remember telling them that he was heading
for the Pueblo, Colorado area, and that he would contact vun Buvka and let him
know what had become of the operation. In truth, he had contacted vun Buvka but
he hadn’t let him know where he or his terrorists were located.

Now only one
thing could go wrong with his scheme: should vun Buvka ever contact the team
Siraj was grossly aware that he would be exposed and ultimately executed.

Siraj turned off
the irritating TV and walked into his kitchen. Almost immediately, someone
knocked on his door.

Siraj made sure his pistol was close by and went to answer it. When he
unlocked the door and opened it, he almost passed out at what he saw. There in
front of him, looking as pleasant as ever, was Alka vun Buvka.

*          *          *

“You know,
Ghazi,” vun Buvka said as he stood in the hallway of the hotel, “you must have
taken a wrong turn while trying to get to Pueblo, Colorado.”

“I can explain.”

“You’d better,”
he warned as he pushed Siraj aside and entered the room. “Although I already
know everything you could explain.”

Siraj’s tongue
was tied. How had vun Buvka found him and why? In fact, how had he gotten
here
?

“You never were
good with directions,” vun Buvka proceeded carelessly. “But I thought maybe you
could read a map.”

“I know I told
my team I was going to Colorado, but I changed my mind, that’s all. Why does it
matter?”

“I’m not just
talking about those directions, Ghazi. I’m also addressing why you didn’t
follow your orders. Were they not clear enough? Or were they too frightening
for you to obey?”

Siraj refused to
show his fear to this man. “I can tell you about everything, Mr. vun Buvka, and
then you will understand.”

“You already did
over the phone, remember? But why did you tell me that you and your team were lying
low? Why would you do that when you really were trying to desert?”

“Desert? Is that
what you think I did?”

Vun Buvka was
not convinced. “I am waiting for an answer, Ghazi.”

Siraj knew why
he had done it. He called because he wanted to make vun Buvka think that he
was
becoming a sleeper agent. He had thought that by tricking his team about his
whereabouts he would never be found. Siraj had really believed that vun Buvka
would never come into the U.S. to do what he was doing now.

“If you really
were just lying low until the coast was clear, then why did you not go to
Colorado as you said?” vun Buvka demanded. “Answer me, Siraj.”

“I told you it
was because I changed my mind. Pueblo is a large city, there are many
government officials looking for me there.”

“And why didn’t
you call your team and tell them about your change of mind? You told them to
report everything to you, so why didn’t you inform them of your whereabouts?”

Vun Buvka was
doing an excellent job of holding his temper. He wanted to kill Siraj, but he
was restraining himself. He had already contacted the rest of the terror team
and picked them up – they were waiting outside – but he had not even attempted
to call Siraj because he didn’t want him to run.

Vun Buvka had
known where he was despite how hard he tried to hide. The reason Siraj’s hiding
place had been exposed was because he had made the mistake of contacting vun
Buvka on the satellite phone. Well, just like the expert terrorist he was, vun
Buvka had sensed the man was on the brink of desertion and had decided to
investigate the matter. With the help of the boss, the satellite phone call had
been traced back to the very spot where the two terrorists were now. It was a
good thing for vun Buvka that Siraj didn’t know that a satellite phone call
could be traced, otherwise he probably wouldn’t have called from the place
where he was hiding.

“The past is the
past, Mr. vun Buvka, and whatever mistakes I made were simply mistakes, nothing
more,” Siraj confirmed with a growing fear that his boss was going to kill him
at any moment.

Although Siraj
didn’t know his boss very well, he had not liked him from the first time he met
him back in late January. He had a face that could not be read, and his actions
didn’t betray his feelings. His ability to set up a smoke screen was an
advantage to those on his side, but a problem to those who were against him
like Siraj felt he now was.

“You are right,
Ghazi,” vun Buvka agreed. “The past is the past. And you are history.”

In a flash, vun Buvka whipped out his pistol and Siraj could feel the
barrel press up against his forehead. Then he came to the conclusion that there
was nothing he could do to stop his boss from killing him.

*          *          *

Parks saw the
knife come flying at his neck, guided by the hand of Lee. If he didn’t react
quickly, the blade would reach his neck in just a matter of milliseconds. With
lightning speed he ducked down just as the knife passed where he was just
moments before. He then grasped Lee’s wrist just below the knife’s blade, and
put his other hand around the man’s elbow. Putting his leg out for a stumbling
block, he swung Lee’s body around and watched the man fall flat on his back.
Parks didn’t let go of his wrist however. He quickly dove on top of Lee and
worked the knife from his hand and into a position that incapacitated the
agent.

“How’s that?”
Parks asked Solomon as he released the plastic knife and stood to his feet.

Solomon broke
into applause and smiled broadly. “Man, that was very good. You handled it like
a pro.”

Parks brushed
himself off and helped Lee up. “Yeah thanks, Solomon. I don’t know if any one of
you has the time, but I can imagine it’s getting pretty late. Must be about...”
Parks looked in the general direction of the sun to try and get a time
estimate, “fourteen thirty.”

Solomon ran over
to a bench to retrieve his cell phone and check to see if the guess was right.
“Oh my goodness, how’d you do that?” he wondered in utter amazement.

“What did I just
do?”

“You just made a
guess that it was 1430, and get this, it’s 1434. How’d you do that, KP?”

Parks picked a
grass blade and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger as he thought of a
good response. “Well,” he said, “my brother and dad were experts at telling
time by the sun, and I guess from being around them so much it just kinda wore
off on me too. I’m not near as good as they are…were – I mean is and was.”

“Oh. Well anyway
it’s way past lunchtime and that’s all I’m concerned about,” Solomon informed
everyone as he shut his phone. “Do we still get an afternoon lunch break?”

“Yeah, why not?
It’s my fault we were out here a little too long. Which reminds me, I really
should check my email sometime soon.”

“Are you
expecting trouble?” Samuels joked. “I sure hope not because I’m still trying to
recover from the last operation.”

Parks shook his
head. “No, I’m not expecting anything besides a headache after I’m done reading
all the intel reports. There sure are a lot of them.”

“You’re tellin’
me,” Corley chimed in. “Not only are they headache inducers, but they bore the
trash out of me. Half the stuff they report isn’t even worth thinking about.”

“Well, it makes
them feel important I guess,” Norse suggested. “Or they think it makes us feel
important, one of the two.”

“All right, all
right,” Parks butted in. “Let’s forget about it and take a lunch break. We’ll
break for an hour and then go back to the EEOB and work like it’s a normal day
– which it is.”

Little did Parks know that it wasn’t going to be a normal day. Something
was unraveling behind the scenes. Something the CIA, FBI, and Department of
Homeland Security had no clue about...yet.

*          *          *

Siraj had been
staring down vun Buvka’s pistol barrel for what seemed to be hours. Neither man
was saying a thing, but then Siraj found something to state that just might
save his life.

“Mr. vun Buvka,
are you planning to kill me?”

“What do you
think?” came the cocky response.

“Well then, do
you not think the authorities will be summoned when my body is found? After
all, there is no way to hide my corpse without rousing suspicion from someone.
Do you really wish to blow your cover by doing that?”

Vun Buvka didn’t
look disturbed at all. “Oh Ghazi, you have a horrible habit of speaking before
you know what’s going on. I was not planning on killing you without a reason,
and from what you say, I seem to have no reason. I was simply reminding you
that
I
am leading this operation.
I
am, not you.”

Siraj wanted to
believe him but he couldn’t. He knew that vun Buvka was on to his scheme, and
there was no way he was going to live, one way or the other. But he went along
with the game anyway and decided that it would be better to die killing
Americans than to be killed for being a traitor.

“I never was
under the impression that I would ever lead you, Mr. vun Buvka,” Siraj responded
convincingly. “But it would be an honor to be under your leadership.”

Vun Buvka smirked and put down his gun. “Good for you, Ghazi. If you
wouldn’t have offered to come, I would have killed you.”

*          *          *

Siraj walked out
of the hotel flanked by vun Buvka. He didn’t have to look far to see the silver
Suburban that would serve as the terrorists’ transport.

“Over there,”
vun Buvka instructed as he pushed Siraj toward the vehicle.

Trying to pull
himself together, Siraj started walking toward the Suburban and when he came
close enough, he saw that there were already several men inside.

“We’ll get in
the back,” vun Buvka ordered. “Oh, and say hello to your former team, Ghazi.”

Siraj’s heart
was pounding as he opened a side door and climbed in the farthest seat in the
back. He still felt as if vun Buvka was going to kill him when they arrived at
a nice open area, and that this was all just a prelude to the inevitable. He
knew there was no way to escape this time. There was nowhere to hide, nothing
to say that would let himself off the hook, and nothing to face but death
itself.

“Are you all
right?” the terrorist in the driver’s seat asked Siraj. “You don’t look so
well.”

Siraj ignored
the question and looked out the window. He didn’t want to speak to anyone, he
didn’t want to be near anyone, and he didn’t want to be in the U.S. at all. He needed to blame someone, anyone, for what was going on. He just couldn’t
keep going like this without hating someone, or something. During the last
operation, it had been his fear he chose to hate. That kept him going for as
long as he had, but what was there to blame now? Siraj wasn’t sure so he just
tried to think on something else and forget about what was taking place.

“Aren’t you
going to ask how I got this vehicle?” vun Buvka questioned.

“No, I already
know how,” Siraj countered defiantly. “Some sleeper agent had it stashed away
and allowed you to use it. Am I correct?”

Vun Buvka
laughed. “Ghazi, you actually figured something out. That just goes to show you
that life is full of surprises.”

“And you have
surprised me, Mr. vun Buvka.”

“Oh, and with
what?”

Siraj paused as
he contemplated the best way of approaching the topic. “I was told that you
pulled off the Paramount Hotel bombing a few months ago, and obviously lived to
tell about it.”

“So?”

“So why if you
managed to keep your life back then would you kill yourself now? After all,
someone once told me that you were a bomber, not a suicide bomber.”

“What makes you
think my life will be taken on this operation?”

“Because this is
a suicide bombing operation, Mr. vun Buvka. No one lives on an operation of
this nature.”

Siraj could
vaguely see that his leader was getting uncomfortable with the subject of death
so he pressed further. “But of course we both know, it’s all for a good cause.
Our relatives will always remember our sacrifice.”

Vun Buvka’s face
was expressionless as he felt his blood rise to the point of boiling. He knew
that his subordinate was doing this on purpose, and there was no way to stop
him without showing his real fear. So he just endured it and hoped the topic
would change.

“What is your
plan anyway?” Siraj wondered as he began to feel confidence rise in him since
even his leader, the second-ranked terrorist in the world, was getting clammy
at the thought of death. “You’ll need a good one you know.”

“
I know that,
I’m not dumb like you, Ghazi,
” vun Buvka spat back venomously. “I’ll get to
that soon. But first, we have to make sure the coast is still clear.”