Viper Team Seven (The Viper Team Seven Series Book 1) by Rykar Lewis Page A

team leader, “we can extract the President now.”
    The leader
peeled himself off of the President and let out a long-held breath. The President
had made it out all right. As far as the agent could tell though, he’d been
shot sometime before, possibly during the hijacking. He noticed the wound the President
had was bandaged, although it was bleeding again.
    “Give me a
hand,” the leader ordered, slinging his rifle on his shoulder.
    Two agents
trotted over to help. As they began carrying the President out, two dark
silhouettes popped out from the hallway. For a brief second, the team leader
made direct eye contact with one of the men. In the next second, he felt gunfire
tear into him. As he fell, the team leader again rolled on top of the
President, ever mindful of his Commander-in-Chief’s safety, even in his own
death.
    The other FBI agents
poured out endless bursts of gunfire until they were sure the terrorists were
dead. Quickly they took the President outside, then the bodies of the dead were
gathered.
    Three FBI agents
had fallen. One being the team leader, Clinton Lewis. He had been shot through
the lung, which was the fatal shot, but he had also deflected three other
rounds as he covered the President. He had saved the President’s life, and died
a hero.
    Marine One was called over to extract the President, and the fire department was on its
way to see to the fire that was ignited by the explosion of Air Force One .
    Back at the
White House, the VP and the NSC were experiencing feelings of both joy and
sorrow. They had seen everything. Almost too much. They were elated that the President
was still alive after all that had happened, but they were horrified about the
scenes that had unfolded.
    Marine One carried President Winnfield back to Washington D.C., as the FBI agents stayed
with Air Force One . Operation NOSE DIVE had been a success, but at a
very high price.

5
    Wednesday, March 12 th – 1200 hours
    Camp Lejeune, North Carolina
    “Attention to
orders,” Colonel Johnson commanded. Every Marine in the colonel’s office stood
ramrod straight. Johnson, the Commanding Officer of the 4th Marine
Expeditionary Brigade’s Anti-Terrorism Battalion, was promoting one of his best
Marines. That Marine was Captain Keith Parks, soon to be Major Parks.
    The colonel read
the commission, signed by the Commandant of the Marine Corps and the Secretary
of the Navy, as Parks nervously stood beside him. Parks was not an anxious man,
but he hated to speak in public, or stand in front of a crowd as he was now.
    Colonel Johnson
finished reading the commission, then instructed Parks to take the oath of
office. Even though Parks was nervous, those present could never tell it by his
actions or his voice. He calmly took the oath as instructed. Then the question
came: “Who would you like to have pin them on?” The colonel was referring to
the major’s insignia – a pair of golden oak leaves.
    Parks responded
to the question by simply saying, “You sir.” Johnson and Parks were good
friends, and since Parks’ father was unable to make the ceremony, he wanted
Johnson to pin on the rank in his dad’s stead.
    “It’d be my
honor,” the colonel accepted, stepping toward the ruler-straight Marine.
    As he pinned the
rank on, a wave of pride flooded over Parks. Major Keith Parks, the commander
of Bravo Company, Anti-Terrorism Battalion, 4th MEB, was never happier than at
this moment. He’d done so much for this promotion, and it had paid off. He’d
been fifth on the list for promotion to major, so he’d found out the good news only
a few weeks ago.
    “Congratulations
Major Parks,” Johnson said, extending his hand out to him. Parks relaxed his
stance and shook his Commanding Officer’s hand. Everyone in the room then came
forward to congratulate the newly appointed major.
    Keith Parks was thirty-two
years old, and was a tall man of 6’4’’. He weighed 210 lbs., had sandy brown
hair, and deep blue eyes. He had