The Marshal Pt. 03

"Warned you how?"

"The names of the deputies he said he was sending to take possession of Ms. Han were Marshal Graves' executive assistant and a deputy who retired. He countermanded a previous order he hadn't given and told me not to bring Han to you. It was enough to tip me that something was wrong, so Ms. Han and I bugged out."

Martinelli was quiet for a moment. "Can you explain how Han knew you were coming here today?"

"They must have guessed it was what I'd do when we weren't where I said we were. I still haven't figured out how they knew which car to hit, though."

"Could SDM Gwynn have--"

"No. I never told him the make or model of the car."

"So we may still have a mole?"

"I believe so."

"Shit... Okay. I've told no one about the mass pickup tomorrow. I'll be in the office at noon to take possession of Ms. Han. I don't have to tell you this entire case depends on her testimony. Keep her safe, Cogburn."

"I will, sir."

"Do you trust Deputy Hernández?"

"With my life."

"I hope you're right about her, because you're trusting not only your life, but Ms. Han's as well." He paused. "Get Han here, and get her here unharmed. I don't care what you have to do, just do it."

"I will."

"I'll see you tomorrow, about noon."

"Yes sir." Rob hung up, turned his phone off, and looked at Bae. "That was too easy, and that makes me nervous."

"You think it's Martinelli?"

He shook his head. "It's hard to believe it'd be him, but honestly, I don't know."

Bae was starting to get sleepy. It was almost eleven and she and Rob were lying on the bed. He was propped against the headboard, watching television with the sound off as she cuddled into his side. When she'd complained about the volume, he said it was so he could hear what was going on around them.

His apprehension was making her jumpy. He was alert and wary, like he was after the fake marshal attacked them in L.A. and the Phoenix fiasco. She wanted him to hold her, to make love to her, to distract her from what was going on around them, but he'd refused. He allowed her to cuddle, but he had her on his left side with his body between her and the door and his pistol lying on the bed at his right hand.

A door thumped closed somewhere and Rob stiffened, his hand tightening briefly on the pistol before he relaxed. He was scared. He was truly worried, more so than any time since they left L.A.

"Tell me about your brother," he said.

She didn't move. "What about him?"

"What's he like?"

"Why?"

"I'm trying to figure out what he might do next."

She nodded slowly. "He's smart, cunning, and driven. He'll stop at nothing to get what he wants. He can be violent or charming, depending on what he thinks will serve him best. He's ruthless and doesn't care about anything or anyone. The only thing he cares about is that he gets what he wants."

"A psychopath, or at least a sociopath."

"I'm not sure I know the difference."

"One's worse than the other, but both are basically people who have no regard for anyone other than themselves."

She shrugged. "I guess. I know he thinks laws don't apply to him. He likes to say 'Rules are for sheeple. I make my own rules.'"

He nodded. "That fits the profile. That makes him dangerous because he won't think twice about killing a hundred people just to get to the one he wants."

"Yeah. I know he's ordered the deaths of entire families of people who crossed him, just to send a message."

"How do you know that? You said you weren't part of the family business."

"I wasn't, not, but they were still my brother and father. I heard things."

"And that's why he's trying to kill you?"

"I guess. Right before I left for California, he hit me. Not like you did, but hard, with his fist. I thought he broke my cheek. That's why I left. I wanted to give him time to cool off and forget about it."

"Why'd he hit you?"

"I told you. I wouldn't do what he wanted. He wanted me to start muling cash for him and I refused. Dad never asked me to get involved. He always respected my decision to say out of what they were doing, but Kwang-hoon thought I needed to be in the family business. I think he just wanted me to get my hands dirty so he'd have some leverage if he needed it. The more I refused, the madder he got and the more he tried to force me. The last time I refused was when he hit me. I thought he was going to kill me."

She stared at nothing for a long moment, her stomach roiling as she remembered the malice in his eyes. They'd always fought, but that was the first time she'd actually feared for her life.

"After he hit me, I was on the floor, and he was coming after me, when a couple of his guys pulled him back and talked him down. The next day he acted like nothing had happened. He invited me to have dinner with him and Dad."

"You lived with him?"

"No. He lives in the house we grew up in with Dad. I have an apartment on Staten Island." A creeping sadness came over her. "Or I did. Dad gave me an allowance, and I worked part time doing voiceovers and radio commercials."

"Has he always been this way?"

"Yeah. Even as a kid. He was always in trouble at school. He never tortured animals or anything like that, at least not that I know of, but he used to hit me or do things to get me in trouble. It wasn't just me. He'd do the same to other people. He once got a teacher he didn't like fired by sneaking a gun into the school, putting it in her desk, and then reporting her. She was fired and he was a hero."

"Nice," he rumbled, his tone not matching his words. "Did you tell anyone what he'd done?"

"No. I didn't even know about it until a few years later when he was bragging about it."

"Must have been fun around your house. What did your parents do?"

"Nothing. Mom thought everyone was picking on him and blaming him for their mistakes, and Dad didn't give a shit. I had to learn to fight, to take care of myself, just to protect myself from him. For a while it got better, but now he's getting worse, a lot worse." She paused as she tightened her embrace on him. "He's sick, Rob. He's sick but won't get any help. Since Dad came down with cancer and turned everything over to him, Dad can't control him in anymore. Dad tried to talk to him once, but after he did, Kwang-hoon had some guys who were loyal to Dad killed. He claimed they were plotting against him. Maybe they were, I don't know. Anyway, that sent a clear message. Nobody's dared to try to reel him in since, not even Dad. The best Dad could do was slow him down."

"Where's your mom?"

"Dead."

He grimaced in sympathy. "I'm sorry. How?"

"Don't be. She drowned when I was about fifteen. Drugs and alcohol. She got stoned out of her mind one day, fell into the pool, hit her head on the edge, and drowned. At least that's the official story."

"Jesus! Is there an unofficial story?"

Bae shrugged. "Kwang-hoon was there when it happened and found the body. She was the only one Kwang-hoon seemed to care about, but I've always wondered. As far as I know, he never cried over it." She paused as she remembered how unaffected Kwang-hoon seemed by his mother's death. "My family was a little... dysfunctional." She pursed her lips. "Now, nobody dares question him. He won't listen to anyone, and he's really starting to lose his grip on reality."

"How do you mean?"

She shook her head. "It's only rumors, things I heard people whispering about."

"It might be important. The more I know, the better I can predict what he might do."

She took a moment to summon her courage to talk about what she'd seen. "People don't mean anything to Kwang-hoon," she began softly. "He thinks of a person and a piece of furniture in the same way, as something to be used. He's into these weird sex games. He likes to have men and women fight, in the nude, while he watches. From what I've heard, they're brutal, bloody, affairs."

"What do you mean?" Rob asked.

Bae found out about the fights about a year ago when Ji-won came to Bo-bae, begging for her help. A drug shipment had been seized by the NYPD, and Kwang-hoon held Min-jae, Ji-won's lover, responsible. It wasn't the first time something like that had happened, and since she liked Ji-won, she'd tried to convince Kwang-hoon that Min-jae had done nothing wrong. She'd thought she'd had some success when Kwang-hoon told her that, because she'd asked, he'd decided to give Min-jae a chance to redeem himself.

Ji-won later told Bae she'd been forced to watch as Ji-won and some huge guy engaged in nude combat while locked in a clear box. It was Kwang-hoon's way of giving Min-jae another chance, and Ji-won's punishment for going to Bo-bae for help. Ji-won's story was so crazy Bae hadn't believed her until she'd looked for herself. What Bae found had chilled her to her core and made her realize Kwang-hoon was truly ill.

One day, while Kwang-hoon was out, Bae had gone to the basement to see if what Ji-won said was true. It appeared to be. There was a room built in the back corner of the basement, a room that hadn't been there when Bae had lived in the house. The room was secured with a combination lock, but after come guessing, the home's street address had released the shackle. Inside Bae had found a glass box barely big enough for two people to stand in. It had to be the box Ji-won told her about. Two men or women were placed inside, the door was closed and locked, and it wasn't opened again until one of them was unconscious. The box appeared to be nearly airtight, and it was horrific to imagine two people wedged in there fighting for their lives when there was so little room to move.

There was also a large mat on the floor, shiny with oil, where masturbation and fucking matches were conducted, matches where the loser was punished and the winner rewarded to provide the proper motivation. And that wasn't even the craziest shit rumored to have happened down there.

Over the next few days Bae had quietly started asking around, and she found out Min-jae wasn't the only person to be punished similarly. It was Kwang-hoon's method of exerting control, and if he was displeased by something someone did, sometimes they were given the chance to make amends by participating in his games.

When that wasn't enough, he brought in some of his prostitutes to fight, fuck, or both, for his amusement. Apparently Kwang-hoon never participated and only watched. As far as Bae knew, nobody had died, but that was probably only because it was so damned difficult to dispose of a body. The sickness she'd felt as she looked around the large room returned, and only Rob closeness prevented her from shivering with her memories. She never told Kwang-hoon she'd visited the special room, but she'd never forgotten what supposedly went on there.

"I don't know for sure... but I heard that he'd have guys masturbate each other, and the first one to come or go soft was punished. Sometimes a women had to fuck a bunch of guys Kwan-hoon picked out, and her husband or boyfriend had to watch as they all used her. I heard that he'd sometimes make men and women punch each other in the... in their privates... and the first one who couldn't get up was punished. Things like that."

"Jesus," Rob muttered. "What a sick bastard."

"Yeah," Bae murmured as she forced those memories back into black box where she kept them. "When Kwang-hoon hit me the last time, that was the first time he really scared me. Had the guys not been there, I think he would have killed me... or put me in his games. So, a few days later, I made arrangements to visit Lisa in California, and a couple of weeks after that, after I completed all my voiceover work, I left. When I told Dad I was leaving and why, he told me I was being smart and to stay out of Kwang-hoon's way. I'd have never talked, but..."

"But...?" Rob asked when she didn't continue.

"But when someone killed Lisa, despite what the LAPD said, I knew that bullet was meant for me... and I know who ordered it. I also knew as soon as Kwang-hoon found out his thug killed the wrong woman, he'd try again."

He nodded. They'd already discussed why she'd gone to the cops. "You're safe now."

She nodded. "I know."

They were quiet for a long time and sleep started to take her. Being up so late last night and early this morning was dragging on her.

"Son-of-a-bitch!" Rob snarled softly.

Her blood ran cold as she quickly sat up and made ready to run. Rob was staring at the television as a local Ford dealer hawked discounted Explorers, a map of the United Sates behind him with several large red arrows pointing from the rest of the country to New York City, with the words, The Best Deals in the Whole Country flashing over his shoulder.

"What?" she asked, looking around to see what had set him off.

"That's it. That's how they knew where we were," he growled, his voice as hard a stone.

"What's it?"

"I'm so fucking stupid!"

"Rob, what?"

"The fucking car. That's how they knew." He rolled to his feet. "Goddammit!" he snarled as he paced around in the room.

"What about the car?"

He stopped and stared at her, his eyes and face hard. "Last night, when we weren't where we were supposed to be, Han, or one of his goons, knew Drew had tipped us somehow. If we could figure out what Drew wanted us to do, then they could too. Our rent car probably had Arizona plates. Not many of those around in Manhattan. They'd guessed where we were heading, and there were only so many ways into Manhattan. All they had to do was watch for a car with Arizona plates. I should have thought of that! My stupidity almost cost you your life... again!"

All thoughts of sleep forgotten, she stared at him a moment as what Rob said sunk in. "So, there's no leak?"

He shook his head. "No, there has to be one. Someone spoofed the marshals in L.A. and let Han know so he could have a man in place... and they knew about Phoenix... and they knew to take SDM Gwynn, and when. So there's still a leak, but at least now I know how they found us today. Maybe Han isn't as superhuman as I thought."

He turned his phone on, dialed, and held it to his ear. "Lou. Rob. I think I know how Han found us." He listened for a moment and then explained to her what he'd just told Bae. "No," he said. "We stick to the plan." He began nodding as he listened. "Yeah. The Tribeca, room 1022, 11:30." He listened again. "Yeah. Thanks. See you tomorrow."

She noticed that he'd given Lou the wrong room number. He was still being extra careful. "This is good news, right?" she asked after he hung up.

"Yeah, but I should have thought about the plates. We stood out like a sore thumb."

"You can't think of everything."

"But that's obvious."

"Now, maybe. I didn't think about it. Who thinks about the license plate on their car?"

"I should have. It's my job to keep you safe."

"And you have. Stop beating yourself up. It's you against everything Kwang-hoon can pull together to throw at you, and that's a lot. It's hard to win when the other side knows what you're going to do, but I'm still alive, and that means you're winning. I trust you. Trust yourself."

She could tell from the look on his face he wasn't buying it. "Thanks, but I'm afraid you're putting too much faith in me."

"I don't think you're putting enough faith in yourself. You've kept me safe through everything he's thrown at you."

"We're not out of this yet. He knows we're here now, and he knows where we have to go. That gives him the advantage."

"But he doesn't know when or how, right?"

"No, but he only has to get it right once to kill you. We have to get it right every time to protect you."

That sounded ominous. "I have faith in you."

He looked at her, his face full of worry. "I hope it's not misplaced."

She went to him and melted into his chest. "It's not. My life is in your hands, and there's no place else I'd rather it be." His arms went around her as she closed her eyes, drinking in the security like a sponge. She believed in him, even if he didn't believe in himself. "Take me to bed?"

"No."

His answer surprised her and hurt her feeling a little. "I want you." She stretched to kiss him, but he kissed her on the forehead instead.

"I can't."

The hurt grew. "Why? Don't you want me?"

"Yes."

"Then why?"

"Because I have to keep you safe. We're not safe here, not like we were when we were on the road. I can't be distracted. Not tonight."

She warmed and the hurt faded. "I'm distracting?"

He released her and stepped back. "Like you don't know," he said, his tone teasing.

"This could be our last chance," she tried again.

"I know, and I want to, but I can't."

Disappointment rolled over her like a dark cloud. "Will you at least kiss me goodnight?"

She thought he was going to say no, but he pulled her in and kissed her, a kiss as sweet and soft as the one they'd shared that morning before they left New Jersey, and it was just as amazing. Now she really wanted him, but she wouldn't try to force him.

"Where are you going to sleep? There's only one bed."

"In a chair in front of the door."

Another disappointment. Even if he hadn't made love to her, she could have enjoyed being in his arms. There was nothing to say, so she nodded. She started pulling her shirt over her head. She wouldn't try to force him, but maybe she could change his mind.

"Leave your clothes on. We might have to run."

She sighed and pulled the shirt back down. He began dragging chairs, so she flipped off the television. After she'd settled into the bed, he went to her. "Goodnight," he said, bending and taking her lips in another slow kiss.

"It's not too late to change your mind," she sighed, patting the bed beside her.

He turned out the light. "Try to get some sleep."

She lay quiet and still in the darkness. No place in New York City was truly dark, and she could make out Rob's shadow as he sat in a chair, his feet against the door. He'd told her he did that so the door would wake him if it started opening, allowing him to doze, and she knew his weapon was lying in his lap, close at hand.

She couldn't figure him out. She didn't love him, and he didn't love her. They'd fucked three times, and while each time was better than the time before, it was just sex. It was nothing but physical need. She was confident he'd enjoyed their encounters as much as she had, and yet he'd refused her tonight in what would likely be their last opportunity to enjoy each other.

Why? Because he was worried for her safety? She was just a job to him, and he'd never indicated otherwise. She couldn't understand that kind of dedication and wondered if all marshals were like him. Were they as dedicated to the safety of their charges?

She'd never met anyone like him. Kwang-hoon might be losing his grip on reality, but even Dad wouldn't stick his neck out for a stranger. Bae's brother was trying to kill her, and a man she'd met only six days before was sitting in a chair, pistol in hand, willing to give his life to protect hers.

She pursed her lips. The whole fucking world was upside down.

Bae swam out of darkness of sleep, a soft tickle on her lips slowly pulling away the veil of sleep. She smiled as she realized what the tickle was and pulled Rob more fully into the kiss. She was glad he'd changed his mind and was joining her in bed.

"Time to get up," he whispered as the kiss dissolved.

She groaned. "What time is it?"

"Nine. Get up. I want to be ready to move as soon as Hernández gets here."

"Come to bed, for just a moment."

He brushed his lips across hers again. "Get up. Famous Amos Chocolate Chip Cookies for breakfast."

She groaned again and sat up, blinking in the morning light. He was freshly scrubbed, and she hadn't heard a thing. "You've showered?"