CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“Our friend, the Colonel, never went overseas,” said AJ. “He canceled the trip citing an intestinal issue.”

“But?” said Cam. AJ stared at him. “I sense a ‘but,’ and I’m sure you’re going to tell me what it is.”

“Yes. But. I’m hearing chatter that there are plans for several more mass shootings. One already happened early this morning outside an electronics store in Boulder, Colorado. People were lined up for the early opening of the store to get a special deal on big-screen televisions. Seven were killed, thirteen wounded.”

“Damn. All for a fucking television?” frowned Eric.

“That’s the worst part of all of this. The televisions were never on sale. The store said they didn’t advertise it and had no intentions of selling televisions at that price. Someone lured them there.”

“Oh, shit,” muttered AJ, staring at his screen. Quickly, he linked his laptop to the big screen overhead, and the men all turned to look.

“Colonel Brockman, you aren’t seriously suggesting that the answer to all these random shootings is for Americans to buy more weapons and become armed citizen patrols with no leadership, no training, nothing?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. If every American had a weapon on their hip, in their car, at their side, they could defend themselves.”

“Or they could kill other Americans!”

“That is a risk. Of course, we would want them all to be trained and go to weapons training classes, but once they did that, they would be proficient enough to protect themselves and their families.”

“I would respectfully disagree with Colonel Brockman.”

“Admiral Harris, please shed some light on this. What are your thoughts about all of this?”

“I think Colonel Brockman is not speaking for the majority in Washington, D.C., nor is he speaking for the majority of our military or para-military organizations. I won’t argue that Americans have the right to defend themselves, to bear arms, but this should be done in a tightly regulated, controlled environment with only certain weapons allowed for the general population. What Colonel Brockman is advocating is a rogue mercenary army.”

Brockman stared at his colleague with a glare that said, “I’ll get you for that,” but he spoke no further, turning from the cameras and leaving the steps of the Capitol.

“He’s trying to create a mercenary army,” said Luke. “AJ? Get Admiral Harris on the phone. See if he has time to speak with us.”

“Actually, his assistant just sent a text asking if he could meet with us. Here.”

Cam looked at Luke, shaking his head. Eric and Hex did the same.

“We’ll meet with him in New Orleans,” said Luke. “Tell him we’ll reserve the private dining room at Commander’s Palace. Name the time and we’ll be there.”

“Luke, what if he’s actually in on this with Brockman?” asked Eric.

“I want to believe he’s not,” said Luke. “Harris was a commander when I was a SEAL, and he was a damn fine one. His team completed more missions than just about any other team in the same time frame. They were highly successful, and not one of them had a mark on their record. That says a lot about him.”

“Okay. Okay, I agree with that,” said Hex. “It was smart to meet in the city and not here. Just in case.”

“Hey,” said Sophia Ann and Georgie, walking into the room.

“Hi, what’s up?” asked Carl, kissing his wife. Sophia Ann kissed Eric, sitting beside him.

“Georgie received a request for weapons this morning from the defense committee. The signature was Colonel Brockman’s,” said Sophia Ann.

“When was it signed?” asked Cam.

“The day before you all visited him,” said Georgie. “I suspect that he forgot about it or couldn’t stop it after your little visit.”

“Well, apparently, our little visit wasn’t enough,” said Eric. “He’s planning something big, and we have to stop it.”

“Oh, it’s big, alright,” smirked Sophia Ann, handing them a sheet of paper. “He ordered ten thousand weapons and wanted them delivered to a warehouse in Delaware. Not D.C., not a base, not a military installation. A warehouse.”

“Shit,” muttered Cam.

“Admiral Harris will be here by five this evening. He said it was urgent,” said AJ, looking at the team.

“Then I guess we’re having dinner at Commander’s Palace,” said Luke.

“Thanks, Louis,” said Luke as they were seated at a table in the private dining room.

“My pleasure, Mr. Robicheaux. How’s your mama and daddy? How are Miss Irene and Mr. Matthew?”

“They’re all doing well, Louis. You know Grandma and Grandpa. They’ll go out kicking and screaming.”

“As they should,” he laughed. “I’ll bring some appetizers in just in case y’all don’t get to have a full dinner.”

The man left the room, leaving Luke, Hex, Cam, and Eric behind. Fifteen minutes later, the Admiral and his assistant were led into the room.

“Luke Robicheaux,” he smirked. “How the hell do you still look that good?”

“Clean living, Admiral,” he smiled, shaking his hand.

“It’s not admiral, not here. Just call me Isaac.”

“Alright,” nodded Luke. “Isaac, these are my friends, family, and teammates. Eric Bongard, Hex Vernon, and Cam Dougall.”

“I’ll be damned,” he smirked, shaking his head. “Do your friends, family, and teammates have to come from Special Forces royalty?”

“Naw, man, just need to be able to support our team,” grinned Eric.

“Well, enough with the pleasantries,” he said, pulling out a chair. Luke pushed the iced tea toward him, and he gladly accepted, then filled his plate with some of the appetizers. “Brockman.”

“We’re aware that he’s a problem,” said Cam. “He tried to buy ten thousand weapons from our weapons manufacturing facility, G.R.I.P. We declined the order, mostly because the ship to facility was in Delaware. Just a warehouse. Nothing special about it.”

“We strongly suspect he’s behind this rash of shootings in public locations. In fact, someone who served with him gave us the tip that he was doing it intentionally. He was planning a trip overseas, and we may have interfered with it,” smirked Eric.

“May have?” asked the Admiral.

“Well, let’s just say we had a little chat with him, and he wasn’t happy. Our team found thousands of weapons on his property.”

“I see. That would explain the strange explosion from his home a few nights ago.”

“That would be us,” smirked Hex.

“As much as I appreciate that, you may have destroyed the evidence we needed to court-martial him.”

“Sorry about that, but we weren’t going to allow those weapons to go overseas. We have reason to believe he’s not only creating this chaos here at home, but he’s also giving weapons to our enemies,” said Luke.

“Oh, there’s no doubt about it. He is. And I need your help to stop him.”