The Marshal Pt. 01

She rose and flushed the toilet out of habit, grimacing the moment she did. Now he'd know she was in there. She hurried out of the room before pausing to brush her teeth with her finger at the sink. It wasn't as good as a toothbrush with toothpaste, but it was better than nothing.

She'd finished, and with an evil grin, she considered stealing his clothes, so he'd have to come out and get them, but she didn't want to give him any ideas. The problem was her imagination was running away with her. He appeared bulkier than the traditional Korean ideal male, and while Kwang-hoon and her father dismissed most American's as big, dumb, brutes, she preferred big, muscley, European and American men to the lean, lithe build of most Koreans. Based on what she saw from the back, she desperately wanted to see his front. He probably had a tiny little cock, which would explain why he was such a dick, but her mind's eye he was hung like a horse. She also badly wanted to get a look at his chest and shoulders to see if they lived up to the promise his shirt made. She didn't like men that looked like bears, but guys with a patch of chest hair turned her on more than men sporting hairless chests. That was another reason she tended to go for European and American men.

He stepped out of the bathroom dressed as neatly as he could considering how wrinkled his clothes were. He still looked a little haggard, and his stubble gave him a don't give a shit look that worked for him. As she watched, he brushed his teeth as she had. Finished, he clipped his pistol and badge to his belt.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice rough and scratchy.

"For what?"

"Breakfast. I need coffee."

"Yeah. Why are we up so fucking early if we're not leaving until ten?"

"I want to get there early in case of problems."

"What problems?" she asked, her tone slightly sneery. He looked at her like someone would a rather slow child. "How will they know where we are?"

"They might not, probably don't, but better to be safe."

She scratched her head furiously with both hands. She hated all the jumping at shadows shit!

He left the key on the dresser in plain sight and opened the door, his hand held behind him indicating she should stay back. Satisfied all was clear, he waved her forward and they stepped out, his hand on her arm. The sun was barely up and already the heat was oppressive.

Dry heat my ass, she growled to herself as he led her by the silent rooms to their car. So is an oven.

There were a few more cars than when they'd parked last night, but all were empty as he walked her to their Mazda. After placing her inside, they stopped at another diner like the one yesterday. It was hard to screw up eggs and bacon, so she kept her thoughts to herself.

"What can I get you folks this morning?" the bright eyed, perky waitress asked. Bo-bae hated her immediately.

"Four eggs, scrambled, side of bacon, hash browns, coffee, orange juice, and a toasted English muffin," Rob said, not even looking at the menu.

"For you, hon?"

"Two poached eggs on plain toasted bagel halves with sliced tomato, crisp bacon, and a double, double espresso." She needed the kick this morning.

The waitress looked at her, her lips thinning in annoyance. "Our eggs are fried, scrambled, or in an omelet, and our coffee is regular and decaf."

"Scrambled then... and regular coffee, lots of cream."

"Coming right up."

"You can't ever make anything easy, can you?"

"Who the fuck can't poach an egg, and how can you not have espresso in this day and age? This place sucks." She'd barely finished complaining when their coffee arrived, black. "She forgot the cream," Bo-bae growled as she looked into her cup. He held up and shook a little container from a bowl on the table. Non-dairy Creamer was written on the peel off cover. "That's just perfect," she muttered as she opened the container and dumped it into her coffee. She added two more before the color looked right.

She was sipping her coffee when their breakfasts arrived. At least she had a bagel, and the bacon was cooked crisp. After she'd buttered her bagel, they ate in silence, Rob wolfing his down as his eyes roamed. When they'd entered there'd been plenty of empty tables, but the diner was quickly filling. The moment she popped the last of her bagel to her mouth he picked up the ticket and slid out of the booth.

"I need to go to the bathroom again," she mumbled around the bagel as she chewed, sliding out with him.

He changed direction toward the bathrooms without comment. He opened the door to the women's room, stepped in, quickly looked around, and then released her and allowed the door to close behind her. She wondered what would happen if someone were in there when they came in. She smiled as she sat down, thinking of the screaming and yelling that would have ensued. He probably wouldn't have cared.

Finished, she washed her hands and retied her hair. Looking at herself in the mirror, she seemed a little mussed, but she couldn't put her finger on exactly why. Maybe it was because she looked tired. Sighing, she turned from the mirror and opened the door. As before, Rob was blocking the door, but this time a lady was standing in front of him. She wasn't exactly glaring at him, but she wasn't happy.

"It's all yours, ma'am," he said as he stepped aside.

Her took Bo-bae's arm and led her to the register where he paid and then escorted her to the car. The sun was fully up now, it was already hotter than hell, and she wondered how people lived here.

They arrived at the airport where he turned in the car. He held her close as they walked quickly through the terminal. They bypassed the ticket counter, and as they approached the security line, he steered her past. One of the white shirted TSA employee's manning the checkpoint stuck his hand out to flag them down. Rob pulled the badge from his belt and held it up for the man to see, but they never slowed.

"That's handy," she said as they left the line behind.

"Yeah. Getting stuck in a queue isn't smart. It endangers other people and makes us a stationary target." He led her along, walking quickly but not so quickly she had to run to keep up, and stopped at the first Delta gate with an employee. "Flight 1066 to New York. Which gate?" he asked without preamble.

The woman looked at something out of sight. "Gate ten, right--" she began, looking farther down the terminal and raising her hand to point.

"Thanks," Rob replied as they moved off before she could finish, hustling her along.

"What's the rush? We're past the checkpoint. We're safe, right?"

"I screwed up once and it nearly cost us our lives. Not again."

They stopped at gate ten. Nobody was there. Parking her close, he stepped behind the podium and picked up the mic. He clicked the button a couple of times before he looked down, did something, and clicked the button again. She heard a faint pop of the intercom.

"Delta employee to gate ten. Any Delta employee to gate ten immediately please."

He hung the mic up again, took her arm, and pulled her close to a wall. Several minutes later, a woman wearing a Delta Airlines uniform appeared. She had her I'm going to be nice to you because it's my job, but you're in trouble face on.

"Were you the one on the intercom? That's not--"

"Rob Cogburn, U.S. Marshal Service," he said, cutting her off as he displayed his badge. He nodded at the window. "Is that 1066 sitting there."

That shut her up. "Uh, yeah, but it's not leaving for almost three hours. The flight crew isn't here."

"I have two tickets, Rob Cogburn, U.S. Marshals. I'm transporting a valuable witness. I'd like to board the plane now, and I want our seat assignment changed so we're sitting in the very back of the plane."

The woman blinked at him a moment. "Do you have your tickets?"

"No. You'll have to get them."

Bo-bae smiled. The woman was totally flummoxed. "I can get your tickets, but I can't allow you to board the plane without the flight crew aboard. It's against regulations."

"I'm changing the regulations. I don't want to be standing around out here in the open, understand? Get your supervisor on the phone if you have to, but make it happen... or would you rather I call and get the head of the FAA to approve it?"

The woman paled slightly. "No. No, that won't be necessary. Wait right here." She stepped away as she brought her radio to her lips.

"Can you really get the head of the FAA on the phone?" Bo-bae asked.

He grinned. "Probably, eventually, but it'd have to go up through the chain of command, and that will take time, but she doesn't have to know that."

"You really get off on your power games, don't you?"

His smile disappeared in an instant and his face hardened. "What I get off on is making sure the people I'm protecting are safe."

It took thirty minutes, and a supervisor was called in, but Rob stood firm in his demands, and Delta finally relented. They boarded the plane, the woman who had started it all opening the door for them and escorting them to their seat. Now that she'd put someone else's head in the noose if there were repercussions, she was very polite and accommodating.

"The flight crew should be here in about an hour. Please stay in your seats and don't wander about the aircraft."

"We're not going anywhere," Rob assured her.

"Can I ask you something?" the woman asked.

"Sure."

"Is your name really Cogburn? Marshal Rob Cogburn? Wasn't he a character in a movie? True Grit?"

"It's Reuben Cogburn in the movie, but yeah, I'm really Marshal Cogburn."

The woman grinned in delight. Bo-bae decided the Delta employee was another woman who'd have him between her legs if he'd just ask. "Do they call you Rooster?"

He smiled at the woman. "Sometimes."

Her smile spread. "Is there anything else I can do for you... Marshal Cogburn?"

The woman's tone made Bo-bae want to stick her finger down her throat and puke. "Pillow?" she asked. Her lack of sleep the previous night was catching up with her.

She received her pillow and then they were alone. "Why do we have to sit way back here? If you were going to but such an asshole, why didn't you demand first class? I hate these cramped seats." She squirmed, trying to get comfortable.

"Because back here I can see everything in front of me."

"Reuben Cogburn is a character in a movie?" she asked as she settled in, resting her head on the pillow against the wall of the aircraft. "I knew I'd heard that name somewhere. Why did she ask if they called you Rooster?"

"Reuben was the main character's name, but most people know the character as Rooster Cogburn because that's what he was mostly called in the movie... Marshal Rooster Cogburn."

"Who starred in it?"

"John Wayne in the 1969 original, Jeff Bridges in the 2010 remake."

She grunted as she shifted in her seat again. She always flew first class, but she was getting so sleepy she didn't care at the moment. Their flight was non-stop, and while there were three seats on each side of the aisle, she was reasonably sure Rooster wouldn't allow anyone to use the third one between them. She raised the armrest between her seat and the empty one to give herself a little more room.

"Wake me when we get there... Rooster," she mumbled.

She heard him snort and a small smile touched her lips as she waited for the darkness of sleep to take her.

"Ms. Han! Wake up!"

She swam out of darkness of sleep. "What?" she mumbled. "Are we there?" she continued as she fought her way out of the clinging tendrils of sleep.

"No. Something's wrong."

She yawned as she sat up. "What?"

"I don't know, but we've been sitting out here too long."

Sniffing and blinking herself awake, she looked out the window. The plane was away from the terminal, but it didn't look like New York.

"Are we in New York?"

"No. We're still in Phoenix."

She was still trying to gather her wits as a flight attendant approached. The woman was smiling and nodding, but she was moving with purpose and her smile didn't reach her eyes. She stopped at their seats and crouched down.

"Are you Marshal Cogburn?" she asked quietly.

"Yes. What's going on?" he replied, his voice just as low.

"Someone called the airport and said there's a bomb on the plane."

Bo-bae's blood ran cold. Rob nodded as if he expected the news. "That's why we're still sitting out here?" She nodded. "Okay. What's the procedure for this?" he asked.

The flight attendant swallowed hard. "We're waiting for instructions on where to park the aircraft, then we'll disembark the passengers."

"I want you to listen to me," Rob said. "There's probably no bomb on the plane. This woman is a valuable federal witness, and this is likely a ruse to get her out in the open. What I want you to do is have the pilot tell everyone it's a mechanical failure, okay? We don't want a panic. I want you to take the people down the flight stairs, not the slides. Take everyone out through the front of the plane only. Don't use the rear or side exits. Are you going to put them on buses?" The woman nodded. "Good. Do that, but I want a car at the back of the plane, and I want you... what's your name?"

"Darla Hinshaw."

"Okay, Darla. When the passengers start unloading, I want the car at the back of the plane. You're going to open one of the doors and we're going out that way. I want the car to take us back to the terminal, away from the other passengers. Understand? There have been two attempts on this woman's life already, and I don't want to give them another chance. Can you do that for me?"

Darla nodded, rose, and hurried down the aisle.

"Do you really think there's no bomb on the plane?" Bo-bae whispered, her breakfast weighing heavy in her stomach. There was a full row of seats between them and the other passengers, but she kept her voice low because she didn't want to start a panic.

"Yeah."

"What if you're wrong?"

"We'll probably never know it."

"That's not funny."

He held her gaze. "I didn't intend for it to be. I want you to listen, and I want you to listen good. I'm going to get you out of this, but I need your cooperation, got it?"

She nodded, her eyes wide. Getting shredded and grilled in a bomb explosion, or being gunned down by some thug, weren't high on her to-do list.

The pilot came over the intercom and announced that the plane had developed a mechanical failure that prevented them from returning to the terminal, assuring the passengers in his calm, professional voice there was no danger. The engines spun down into silence as the passengers started complaining. The flight crew traveled the aisles, telling people what was happening and that transportation back to the terminal was on the way.

Rob unbuckled. "If you need to go to the bathroom, now's the time. Once we hit the ground, we're not stopping."

Bo-bae squeezed out and relieved herself. When she finished, Rob did the same. The front of the plane brightened as the doors on each side of the plane opened, but Rob and Bo-bae stayed in their seats as people began shuffling out. Darla worked her way back to them.

"There's a car waiting for you."

They slid out of our seats. "Where's the terminal?" Darla pointed toward the front of the plane and slightly to the left. "This door," Rob said, choosing the one on the opposite side of the plane from the terminal.

Darla opened the door and Rob jumped out. Bo-bae stepped up to follow, but then her stomach lurched. Rob was getting up from the concrete, his head at least six feet below the bottom of the door. She began shaking her head. He held his hands up.

"Jump! I've got you!" he ordered.

She shook her head again. "I can't! It's too high!"

"I can get some--" Darla offered, leaning out to look down at Rob.

"No," Rob barked. "No time. I'll catch you, Bo-bae! Jump!" She shook her head again. "Goddammit! If you want to live, you've got to jump! I've got you!"

She took a deep breath, steeled her nerves, and jumped. She landed in his arms as he caught her by her sides and slowed her decent. The bottoms of her feet still stung from the heavy contact with the ground, and her ribs ached a little where he'd caught her, but the impact was much less than it would have been otherwise.

"Thanks," she gasped, almost wilting in relief.

"Get low. Into the car," he said, urging her into a crouch and into the back of the sedan. "Stay down," he said, pushing her down into the back seat and draping himself across her so he was out of sight as well.

"You Marshal Rooster Cogburn?" the driver asked.

"Yeah. Take us--"

"Like from True Grit?"

"Yeah, like from True Grit," he growled. "Take us to the terminal, but somewhere away from where everyone else is going. Take it slow, like you normally would. You're just a guy doing your job. We don't want to call attention to ourselves."

"You got it," he said, turning to the wheel. "You really think this is all just get at your prisoner?"

"She's not my prisoner, but yeah, that's what I suspect."

"If they don't find a bomb on the plane, someone is going to be pissed for grounding the flight."

"Better safe than sorry."

"Yeah, I suppose."

They rode for a couple of minutes. "We're here. You can sit up now. We'll go in through baggage. I'll open the door and escort you. Where do you want to go?"

"Rental cars."

They followed the man through the bowels of the terminal and popped out directly across from the rental car desks.

Rob extended his hand. "What's your name?"

"Paul. Paul Huddleston," the man said as he took the offered hand.

"Thanks, Paul. You may have helped save her life."

"All part of the service. Thank you for flying Delta," he said with a grin. Rob and Bo-bae both snickered. "Should I alert security you're here?"

"No. That'll only draw attention to us. Our best bet is to stay under the radar. Thanks again for your help. We'll take it from here."

Rob untucked his shirt to cover his weapon and badge before they started across the wide space to the rental counter. Bo-bae started out quickly, but Rob slowed her into a stroll.

"We're just a couple of regular people. Relax," he said softly, his hand going around her back, gently steering her to where he wanted to go, but she didn't look like a prisoner anymore. "Don't be obvious but keep your eyes open. If you see anyone you recognize, or even if you think you recognize them, let me know."

They stepped up to the counter. "May I help you?" the woman asked, her smile bright and welcoming. She obviously hadn't heard about the bomb scare.

Rob grinned like he didn't have care in the world. "I need to rent a car."

As he answered the clerk's questions, Bo-bae kept her eyes moving, trying not to be apparent in her scanning of the crowd, but she didn't see anyone she recognized, nor anyone that seemed to be paying any special attention to them. If Rob was right and the bomb scare was a ploy to get her in the open, it seemed to her they'd managed to give Kwang-hoon's goon squad the slip.

She glanced back to Rob as he slid his credit card across the counter. He might be an asshole sometimes, but one thing was certain, he was damn good at his job.

Rob pulled out of the Phoenix airport and put his foot down in the Malibu, wanting to get as much space between them and the airport as possible, as quickly as possible. He'd selected a Malibu this time because if they were going to be stuck in a car for four or five days, he wanted a little more room to move around.

They belted north and east on Arizona 87, heading for I-40 at Winslow, Arizona. As Phoenix began to recede in the rearview mirror, he began to relax and pulled out his phone. He needed to check in and report what had happened.