The Marshal Pt. 03

Rob stared at the lobby entrance, watching for anything that seemed out of place. Han's goon squad had to know they wouldn't get very far in the Malibu, not with the Chevy as damaged as it was. The Korean mafia would be looking for them, but Manhattan was a crowded place. The thugs might eventually find them, but it'd take time.

He couldn't believe Hernández sold them out, and it was too fantastic to believe that both Drew and Lou were moles. No. There had to be another explanation. But what was it? Every time Rob reached out to someone for help, Han came down on them. There had to be a leak in the service somewhere, but where? He didn't have a plan, and he was still pondering how they'd been ambushed, and what to do about it, when his phone rang. It was Lou.

"Cogburn," he said, putting the phone on speaker so Bae could hear. She was neck deep in this too and deserved to know what was happening.

"Where are you? It's almost noon. Martinelli is getting antsy."

"Han's men jumped us," he said, his tone neutral as he listened for Lou's reaction.

"What! When? Where?" she shouted. Lou was either actually surprised or was a hell of an actress.

"About five blocks from DPM," he said, using the marshal service's shorthand for the Daniel Patrick Moynihan building.

"Are you shitting me? How'd they know?"

"That's the question, isn't it?"

"Are you okay? Is Han safe? Tell me where you are and I'll come get you."

He thought about it. "We're safe, and let's leave it at that. They were waiting for us, Lou."

"You think I tipped them? Rooster! You know me better than that!"

"I trust you, but look at it from my point of view. Every time I--"

"I understand that!" Lou snapped, cutting him off. "But you have to trust someone. You can't do this alone."

"We need another plan. Who did you tell we were coming?"

"Nobody that didn't need to know."

"So the leak could be anywhere. The Marshals office, Martinelli's office..."

"We didn't tip them, Cogburn," Lou said, her voice hard. He knew she meant the Marshal Service. It was hard to believe it would be anyone in their office, but someone, somewhere, sure as hell had been talking.

"Any word from SDM Gwynn?" he asked.

"No. We've issued a BOLO for him, but nothing yet."

"BOLO?" Bae whispered.

"Understood." He leaned over to Bae. "Be On the Look Out," he whispered to answer her question.

"Tell me where you are. I'll come get you," Lou repeated.

"No. Han has to be watching. You'll lead them right to us." Since it was Saturday, DPM, and practically everything around it, was closed. Any car leaving there would be easy to follow.

"Then I'll bring a dozen men. We've got to get you off the street!"

He considered it. Lou's plan was a solid one and was right out of the U.S. Marshal playbook. Surround the witness with bodies. Once they were inside the security cordon surrounding DPM, they'd probably be safe. Probably. There were so many unknowns.

He was still thinking about her proposal when Lou spoke again. "Shit. Martinelli is calling. Let me call you back," she said and was gone.

Bae was looking at him, her fear and questions clear in her eyes. "The shit is about to really hit the fan now," he muttered.

"If you trust this Lou chick, why don't you let her help us?"

"Because I can't figure out how Han knew we were coming. He's been one step ahead of us all the way."

He looked around the lobby. They were off the street, but they were still exposed. The hotel lobby was a good place for an emergency shelter, but it wasn't ideal if Han was systematically checking hotels and restaurants. A shootout in a hotel lobby was near the bottom of the list of things he wanted to be involved in.

"Let's get a room. I don't like sitting out here in the open. I feel exposed."

He checked them in, using his badge to clear away some of the bullshit. "Listen to me," he said firmly. "This woman is in federal witness protection. I want a room other than the one you assign us in the system. If anyone comes asking for us, I want you to follow your procedures. However, if they threaten you, I want you to be as cooperative as possible, for your own safety, but I want you to send them to the room listed in the system. The men looking for her are not nice. Don't try to warn me. Do exactly as they say. Let them see the check in record for themselves if they want to. Give them a key if they ask for it. If it comes to it, your best chance to survive this is to tell no one, play dumb, and let them decide I gave them the slip on my own. They've already killed a federal marshal. They won't hesitate to kill you too, understand?"

Drew might not be dead, but if Han had him, as Rob suspected, it was almost certain that if Drew wasn't dead, he was probably wishing he were.

The woman behind the counter, Tracy according to her name tag, nodded, her eyes huge. "I understand."

Rob leaned on the counter, his face hard. "Now, let me make something very clear. If someone kicks in my door, you'd better pray they kill me, because if I survive, I'll have you thrown so far under the jail you'll never see daylight again. Have I made myself clear?"

She nodded and swallowed hard. "Yes, sir."

He smiled. "Now relax. Chances are they won't show up. If they do, do exactly as I've instructed. We'll be gone by morning. If they show up after that, tell them I was here but I'd checked out. Let them see for themselves if they want. Understand?"

She nodded again. "Yes, sir."

"Good. What room are you assigning us?"

"1022."

"Make sure you keep the rooms immediately around 1022 unoccupied if you can."

"Yes, sir."

"I'll take one of the ones near 1022 you're going to keep unoccupied."

"Yes, sir." Fearing for her life made Tracy very cooperative.

"Do you have a master key, like housekeeping uses? I'd like to have that in case I need it."

"Yes, sir. I can make you one of those."

"Do it."

After a moment she passed the card to him. "Now, where are we, if anyone asks?"

"Tenth floor, room 1022."

"Good. Best to forget we were ever here. We're just another couple checking in. I made no mention I was a federal marshal. We're just Mr. and Mrs. Rob Cogburn."

"Understood, sir."

"Relax. It's going to be okay. Just follow your procedures until they threaten you, then tell them everything you know except that I identified myself as a marshal, and you don't know anything about the extra room. They'll believe you and you'll be okay."

"Yes, sir. I understand."

He nodded, took Bae's arm, and escorted her to the elevators. They rode up to the tenth floor, and as they walked down the hall, he tried the card on several doors. It unlocked them all. He opened room 1027, two doors down and across the hall from their assigned room. From there he should be able to hear someone kick the door open, and he'd definitely hear any gunshot other than a suppressed.22. Now all they had to do was sit back and wait for word from Lou. They'd had breakfast, but lunch and dinner, if they were still there, was going to be slim pickings. They'd probably have to eat out of a vending machine. He didn't dare take Bae out of the room, and having room service deliver to an unoccupied room would be a dead giveaway if anyone thought to check.

As soon as the door swung shut, Bae turned and stepped into his arms. He wrapped her up and held her, resting his cheek against her head.

"You saved me... again. Thank you," she whispered.

"It's going to be okay. I won't let anything happen to you. Are you okay? You're not hurt, are you?"

She shook her head. "No. I'm starting to get a little sore, but not the good kind."

He nodded in agreement. He was starting to feel the effects of the two crashes himself. He held her for a long moment. He didn't think Han would be able to track them down. There were too many places they could hide. It'd take the jopok hours to canvas all the hotels and restaurants they could hide in that were within walking distance of where they were attacked, and the Koreans couldn't know they didn't take a cab. If the goons did come calling, he'd done all he could to protect both Bae and Tracy.

She stepped out of his arms and looked up at him. He wanted to kiss her, he wanted to badly, but he couldn't be distracted, especially now. They were in the lion's den and he had to stay sharp.

"Make yourself comfortable. You hungry?" he asked softly. "I'll go see what I can find in--" he began.

She shook her head. "No. Not now."

He pulled his phone from his pocket. It was at ninety percent charge. In their mad dash to escape, he'd left the charger in the car. Pursing his lips, he turned the phone off. He'd turn it on again later and check for messages, but he needed it to stay charged. He'd want it later.

He sat down on the bed, propped against the headboard, and turned on the television. Bae joined him and snuggled in close. He wrapped his arm around her as he stared at the television, but he saw nothing. He was turning the problem of Han over in his mind. How had Han known? If Drew or Lou wasn't the mole, how had Han known which car they were in to attack them?

He idly flicked through the channels, pausing for a moment before losing interest and moving on. He was restless. After a time he stood, paced the room, and looked through the peephole. He felt trapped, like Han's goons were right outside the room waiting for him to open the door, like they were hiding behind every tree and every car. No place felt safe, not even the room.

"What's wrong?" Bae whispered.

"Nothing."

"Something is. You're so tense."

"You think?" he asked, putting some lilting tease in his tone.

She watched him pace a moment. "You need to relax."

"How the hell am I supposed to relax?" he growled quietly, and then softened his tone. Their predicament wasn't her fault, so there was no reason to take his fear and frustration out on her. "Your brother tried to kill you again not two hours ago. We barely got away."

"I know. But you need to rest. How are you going to protect me if you're exhausted?"

"I know, but I--"

"Let's get something to eat. I'm starting to get hungry."

He glanced around the room but there was no clock, and he didn't wear a watch. He normally used his phone to tell the time, but it was off, and he was loathe to turn it back on just for the time. He decided it didn't matter. They'd skipped lunch. If she was hungry, she was hungry.

"Stay in the room. I'll go find a vending machine."

"Why don't you order room service?"

"I don't want them delivering it to the room. It puts us on the radar."

"So have them send to room 1022. You have a key. You can wait over there, and after they leave, bring it here."

He blinked at her a moment. "That's a damned good idea. Why didn't I think of that?"

She preened. "Because I'm more than just a pretty face," she said with a broad smile.

He couldn't help but smile in return. "Yes, you are." He picked up the room service menu and they looked it over together. "I'm thinking the filet. This will probably be our only meal today, so I feel like splurging."

"I'll have the same. Medium. Twice baked potato. Maybe a bottle of wine?" she suggested.

He shook his head. "Not a good idea. We don't want our reflexes dulled."

"Good point. Okay, no wine."

He nodded in agreement. "Stay in the room and don't answer the phone if it rings."

"Where are you going?"

"To 1022 to call it in."

He opened the door, made sure nobody was around to see which room he exited, and walked across the hall to 1022. His trusty card key opened the door and he moved to the phone, called their order in, and then repeated the process to cross back to 1027.

Twenty minutes later he was waiting in 1022 when there was a knock on the door. "Room service."

Every hotel shootout in movies and books started the same way. The room service guy was a gangster and there was a machine gun hidden under the trays. As far as he knew, that had never happened, but he was still careful. He looked out of the peep. A kid not much older than eighteen or nineteen was standing outside the door with a tray.

He opened the door and stood behind it, just in case. "Put it on the table. Leave the tray," he said. He'd moved his holster and weapon to the small of his back and hidden it under his shirt. He'd have to draw it left-handed, not his strong hand, but he didn't want to advertise he had the Glock. That'd start gossip, and gossip was dangerous. Hopefully the waiter would assume the second meal was for someone that was in the bathroom, or had stepped out of the room for a moment.

The kid did as he was asked, and Rob slipped him a five on his way out. Rob waited until the waiter was gone, checked the hall, and carried the tray to the other room. He bumped the door once with his toe and it immediately opened. Bae had been waiting for him.

They feasted on green garden salad, steak, potato, and bottled water. As they ate, they talked about everything except the elephant in the room, neither of them wanting to remember how close to death they'd come. By the time they finished the meals, he felt better. He still hadn't been able to work out how Han had tracked them, but it wasn't preying on his mind as much anymore because it didn't really matter. Kwang-hoon had, and that was that.

He turned his phone back on and checked his messages. There were two. He entered his PIN and put the phone on speaker so Bae could listen.

Shit is going down over here, Lou's voice said. Martinelli is on a rampage. Give me a call as soon as you can. He deleted the message and listened to the next one. Cogburn, Hernández. Martinelli is going to call you about seven. He wants to talk to you directly. I've got news on what happened this afternoon. Call me. He deleted that message too. It was 6:20. He had time to talk to Lou before Martinelli called. Leaving the phone on speaker, he dialed.

"Where the hell have you been? I've been trying to reach you," Lou said when she answered.

"Hello to you too, Lou. I've had my phone off to save the battery. What news?"

"Martinelli is chewing on the walls and raising hell with Marshal Graves. He's blaming everything that's happened on SDM Gwynn, and he's starting to look at me funny too."

"Then he's a bigger idiot that I thought, and that's saying something, but you said you had some news about this afternoon?"

"Yeah. The Durango and Tahoe were reported stolen last night. No connection to Han that we can determine. The steering locks were broken, so it looks legit. Probably stolen by Han so we couldn't connect him to what happened."

"Any word on SDM Gwynn?"

"No, and that's a problem. Martinelli thinks he's the leak because he's disappeared and isn't answering his calls."

"I think he's dead."

Lou was quiet for a moment. "Do you?"

"Yeah. I suspect they killed him last night. Probably his family too."

"I hope you're wrong."

"So do I. Any luck tracking down our leak?"

"None. It has to be Martinelli's office, but he's just as adamant it's us. We've interviewed everyone involved and nothing."

"That doesn't make me feel any better."

"I know. I don't want to think it's SDM Gwynn, but--"

"I'm telling you, it wasn't him. If it was him, he wouldn't have warned us off last night and we'd be dead already."

"I hope you're right."

"I am. What's Martinelli want?"

"We're going to try to bring you in again tonight. We're going to establish a perimeter that--"

"Not tonight," Rob said, cutting her off. "Not unless you can get it done in the next hour or so."

"Why not?"

"Because I want to be able to see them coming, and we can't do that in the dark."

"We have to do it tonight. No way we can control the area with mass tomorrow."

"Then let's use that. We'll do it quiet and blend in with the mass traffic around St. Andrews."

"Actually..." Lou began slowly, "that's pretty good thinking. We'll be a lot harder to pick out in a crowd. You're safe for tonight?"

"Yeah, we should be."

"Martinelli's not going to like that."

"Fuck him. I've gotten her this close. I'm not letting some pencil-necked dipshit with no clue railroad me into doing something just so he can feel important."

Lou snickered. "Can I quote you on that?"

"Damn straight. I'll tell him myself when he calls."

"I've got your back. What time do you want a pick up? I'm going to handle it personally."

"Mass is at noon, so let's plan on pick up at eleven-thirty. Be waiting at DPM by eleven and I'll call you and give you our location. If Han has ears in the building that will give him less time to react."

"Give me plenty of time."

"If you're there by eleven, you'll have no problem reaching us by eleven-thirty."

"So you're close?"

"Close enough."

"I'll let Martinelli know."

"Make sure he knows to keep this information tight."

"He'll be the only person I tell. If it leaks, it's him or his office."

"Good enough."

"Be safe, Cogburn."

"I'll see you in the morning."

"You'd better."

"You said Martinelli is the U.S. Attorney?" Bae asked as Rob ended the call.

"Yeah, U.S. Attorney, Southern District, New York. He's the one building the case against your brother. He's also the one that will authorize your admittance into witsec."

"Do you know him?"

"No, but I know he's supposed to be a straight shooter." She nodded but didn't seem convinced. "Don't worry. I'm not going to let him do anything that will place you in danger."

"Don't you work for him?"

"No. I work for the Marshal. He's appointed by the President and works for the Justice Department, just like Martinelli. We're on the same team, but the Marshals don't answer to Martinelli. We ultimately answer to the Attorney General, just like Martinelli does."

"The Marshal?" she asked. "Aren't you a Marshal?"

"I'm a Deputy Marshal. There is only one Marshal for each federal judicial district, so ninety-four in all. Terrance Graves is my big boss, Marshal, Southern District, New York."

"Okay. And SDM Gwynn...?" she asked, her voice questioning.

"I report directly to SDM Andrew Gwynn, who reports to the CDM, the Chief Deputy Marshal, who in turn reports to Marshal Graves."

She shook her head. "I've suddenly lost interest. But ultimately this Martinelli dude can't order you to do something?"

"No."

"And Marshal Graves?"

"He can, but if I thought it would endanger you, I won't do it, I don't care who orders it. Marshal Graves is a forty-year veteran and a good guy. Now that he's in the loop, he'll be on my side."

"I hope you're right."

"I am."

Their meal over, Rob cleaned up their room by placing their dishes on the floor outside room 1022. It was almost seven when Rob's phone rang. He didn't recognize the number, but it was probably Martinelli.

"United States Deputy Marshal Cogburn," he said, putting the phone on speaker again.

"Cogburn, this is Richard Martinelli, U.S. Attorney, Southern District, New York. Are you and Ms. Han safe?"

"For the moment."

"Listen, I just got off the phone with Deputy Marshal Hernández. She said you wanted to try to bring Ms. Han in during the mass traffic in the morning."

"That's correct."

"You've brought Ms. Han this far, so I'm going to defer to your expertise."

He glanced at Bae. He wasn't sure having Martinelli agree so easily made him feel any better. It was almost too easy. If Martinelli was the leak, he could afford to be generous because he knew their game plan.

"I think that's our best option."

"Hernández was also adamant that SDM Gwynn isn't our leak. How can you be so sure? The facts seem to indicate otherwise."

"I understand, but he warned me last night, in the best way he could, that Han would be coming for us. I suspect doing so cost him his life, and probably the life of his family."