The Marshal Pt. 04

"I have an idea of where to take her," Rob said.

"Where?" Lou asked.

"Maine."

"Your house?" Michelle asked.

He nodded. Michelle and Luisa often worked as a team, their synergies making them especially effective when working together. Lou was a terrific interrogator and expert at reading people. She could sniff out even the subtlest of lies, and she wasn't above using her physical charms, which were considerable, to loosen a man's tongue. She was the only person who knew Bae and Rob were lovers, something she'd figured out five seconds after meeting Bae the first time.

Michelle's strengths were in seeing how puzzle pieces fit together, and she was an especially effective marksman with both pistol and rifle. Thugs absolutely did not want to make the mistake of forcing her to shoot at them. Rob had lost forty bucks to her when he didn't believe she could drive a red Solo cup up a hill with her sidearm. She'd proven him wrong by walking the cup up the steep embankment, the cup never still as it jumped and spun its way up the hill and over the top. She'd taken his twenty before he tried to duplicate the feat for double or nothing and failed. He could hit the cup, but he couldn't control how it moved so it never left the bottom of the hill... or rolled back down if he got lucky. Her display was the most amazing show of precision weapon control he'd ever seen, before or since.

Despite being women, Lou and Michelle could take care of themselves. More than once some asshole had underestimated them, especially Michelle because of her slim build, only to wake up with his cock in his own ass. He trusted them with his life, and now he was trusting them with Bae's.

"Yeah."

"And you want me to try to find the leak?" Michelle asked. She didn't sound pleased with the idea.

"Yeah. Can you think of a better person?"

"And me?" Lou asked.

"I want you to back me up. If anything happens to me, I'm depending on you to keep Bae safe." He held her gaze. She knew exactly what he was saying even though he hadn't spoken the words.

"You got it, but you don't want me up in Coldnose, Maine, or wherever the hell you live, do you?"

"No." He turned to Bae. "If anything happens and I become incapacitated for any reason, I want you to run. I'll give you the numbers and show you the places I want you to go when we get to Wurth. Once you get there, you call Lou and do exactly what she says, understand?"

"You think that's going to happen?"

"No, but I thought you were safe in witsec too. Better to be prepared." Bae nodded, but he could tell she didn't like the idea he was planning for his death. "I have a code," he continued, looking at both Michelle and Lou. "When you call, or when I call you, we start every conversation with the date. If the first words out of our mouths aren't the current date, we'll know the other's been compromised. Understand? That way, we don't have to play games to let the other know someone is listening."

Lou and Michelle glanced at each other. "Actually, that's damned clever. You sure you don't want to transfer into witsec? You'd be good at it," Michelle said.

He shook his head as he smiled. "No. I'm better at kicking in doors, busting heads, and shit like that. I'll leave all that brainiac type stuff to you two."

"When are you leaving?" Lou asked.

"Today. Martinelli said he had everything he needed and all that was left was review. He decided to pass on that rather than continuing risking her life. We're going to go by the safe house, get her clothes, then we're gone. Can one of you help with that?"

"Yeah," Lou said. "I'll go with you."

Michelle began nodding. "I'll start digging into the witsec files. The system logs who signs in and when. I'll see if I can ferret out who might have tipped Han. It's not like I had a hot date or anything."

Rob wasn't sure if that was a slap at him or not. "I'm sorry to take you away from your weekend, but I needed people I can trust."

"It's okay. I can use the overtime," Michelle said.

"Martinelli said sixty to ninety days before he goes to trial. This is totally off the books. The Marshal isn't officially aware of this operation, and he wants us to keep it that way. Only the four of us know where Bae and I will be."

Lou nodded. "Understood. We'll keep it that way. As far as anyone in the office is concerned, you're running an undercover op, which isn't that far from the truth."

"Anything I didn't think of?" he asked. "You two are the experts on this."

The two women looked at each other a moment. "No. I think you've got it covered. You'll check in every week?" Michelle asked.

"Every Tuesday, say about nine? Which of you do you want me to call?" He snickered when Lou and Michelle each pointed to the other. "I'll alternate, how's that? I'll call you on your cell, just in case." He paused as he thought. "Better, I'll send both of you a text letting you know we're okay. I'll only call if there's trouble."

"That works," Lou agreed.

It was almost three. "We need to roll," he said as he stood. "I'm taking a car. Starting this late there's no way we're going to make it all the way to Wurth today, but I want to get out of the city as soon as I can."

Lou was already standing. "What are we waiting on then? I'll requisition another car and you can follow me to the safe house."

Lou, Bae, and Rob left Michelle as they checked vehicles out of the motor pool. Since the Moynihan building's underground garage was secured, and the entire building was inside a secured perimeter, he felt Bae was safe and didn't take extra precautions. It was almost inconceivable that Kwang-hoon could get anyone in so close. He escorted her to the Dodge Charger and put her in the front seat beside him, protecting her head with his hand out of habit.

He hadn't the first clue where the witsec safe house was located. That was a closely held secret, so he followed Lou in the Chevy Impala. She led him to Greenwich Village and double parked in front of a prewar high rise. Rob did the same, putting the placard on the mirror that identified the car as part of the Marshal's Service. That would prevent it from being towed, and they'd be there only a few minutes.

Lou led them to the bank of elevators where they placed Bae between themselves and the wall. When the elevator dinged its arrival, they waited for the couple to step off before entering. A harried guy ran toward them as they stepped into the cab.

"Hold the door!"

Rob pushed the button to close the doors, but the man arrived before they shut, sticking his hand in between the doors. Rob put his hand on the man's chest to prevent him from entering. "Take the next one."

"Who the fuck do you--" the man growled, grabbing Rob's wrist to pull his hand away.

"He said, 'Take the next one,'" Lou added, flashing her badge.

The man took a step back. "Oh, right," the man said, suddenly much more agreeable. Rob smiled to himself as the other man muttered "assholes" just before the doors touched.

Lou pressed the button for the fifth floor and they rode up in silence. "I'll check the room. Wait in the elevator."

When the doors opened, Lou stepped off and entered apartment 5A. A moment later she appeared and waved her arm. Rob led Bae off the elevator and into the apartment. He glanced around, his lips thinning in disgust. There were four stains on the hardwood floors, one larger than the other three. That was probably where Bae had caved in el Tigre's skull.

They quickly gathered what clothes the Marshal Service had provided Bae. They had no suitcase, but she didn't have many clothes, so Rob draped them over his arm, leaving behind her toiletries and underwear. He'd buy those fresh when they reached Wurth.

Three minutes after they entered the apartment, they were walking out again. "Hold these," Rob said, draping Bae's clothes over her arms in the elevator. He wanted his hands free, just in case.

Lou stepped out of the cab, did a quick visual check, and waved them out of the elevator. They hurried through the lobby to their waiting cars. He opened the rear door to the Charger, and Bae laid her clothes across the back seat as Lou and Rob kept watch, shielding her with their bodies. It took her only seconds to finish her task and to sit down in the front seat.

"Good luck," Lou said.

"Thanks."

Lou smiled. "I like her. Don't fuck this up."

"The protection or...?"

"Both."

Rob smiled. "I'll try."

Lou swatted him on the shoulder as he hurried around the front of the car and sat behind the steering wheel.

"Do we have to go back to your place and get you some clothes?"

"No. I have clothes at the house."

He hadn't driven to Wurth in a long time. When he went home, what he considered home, he normally flew into Bangor and had someone pick him up. He'd spend a week or so at home, and then catch a ride back into Bangor for the flight back to New York. He couldn't go home as often as he liked because of the demands of his job and the difficulty getting there, but he'd never sell the place.

The flight was about ninety minutes, plus another hour to drive from Bangor to Wurth, a little town of about five thousand, fifty miles northwest of Bangor. The drive, however, was nine to ten grueling hours. Since it was almost four, he planned to stop in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, to spend the night. That'd leave them an easy four to five-hour drive tomorrow.

Getting out of the city was never easy, and today was no exception. He spent an hour battling traffic as he worked his way north along Manhattan Island until he finally broke free of the city traffic as he neared the Connecticut state line.

"You okay?" he asked as the traffic thinned and he didn't have to pay as much attention to the surrounding cars.

"Yeah," Bae replied. "Just thinking."

"About what?"

"This. Everything that's happened. Kwang-hoon killing your friends. I'm wondering if it's worth it."

"What happened isn't your fault. You didn't kill Gwynn, Ryder, and Taunt, your brother did. We all knew and accepted the risks when we took the job."

There was no evidence to connect the murder of the three marshals to Kwang-hoon or his organization, but the marshals knew the deaths were by his order, lack of evidence be damned.

She nodded. "I guess. I can't help but wonder, though, if I hadn't--"

"Stop," he said firmly. "Nobody blames you for what happened. Think of how many lives you're going to save, how many people will be able to live a better life once Kwang-hoon is behind bars."

"There will always be someone to take his place," she said softly.

"Maybe. If someone steps up and fills the vacuum left by Kwang-hoon after his ass is in jail, maybe someone else will have the courage to do what you're doing, and they will come forward to help us put the new asshole behind bars with the old one."

She sniffed out a brief laugh, her lips twisting to the side. "Maybe they can have an asshole convention."

He chuckled. "That's how you have to look at it. You're a sheepdog now."

She looked at him, her smile spreading. "Did you just call me a bitch?"

He smiled as he shook his head. "There are three types of people in this world... sheep, wolves, and sheepdogs. Sheep are preyed upon by the wolves, and sheepdogs protect the sheep from the wolves. Now you're a sheepdog because you're helping protect the sheep."

She held his gaze for a long moment. He had to look away to the road, but when he glanced back, she was still looking at him, her face completely neutral.

"I think I like that," she finally said.

"You should. It's easy being a sheep, and wolves don't give a shit about anyone but themselves, but sheepdogs..." he let the silence linger a moment. "They're willing to risk their lives, their wellbeing, in the service of others." He said nothing else to let her work it out for herself.

"You're saying the sheepdogs, people like you--"

"And you," he added.

"Are... what? Better?"

He shrugged. "Not better, necessarily, but think about it. When it comes to it, what kind of person do you want to be? The person who won't do anything to protect themselves, the person who preys on other people, or the person who stands up and says, 'that's not right!' and is willing to do something about it?"

"The latter, of course."

He shrugged. "There you have it. And you did. Protecting people doesn't always mean violence. Sometimes it can simply mean being willing to take a risk in order to do the right thing."

She sat quietly, unmoving and staring straight ahead for at least three miles. "Woof," she finally said softly before looking at him with a faint smile.

The drive to Portsmouth was uneventful. He found a motel that wasn't too expensive not far from the interstate and checked them in. He was reasonably confident they were safe and that Kwang-hoon didn't know where they were or where they were going. How could he?

"I'm going to go fucking stir crazy if you make me eat in the room. Can we please go out somewhere to eat?" Bae begged as they walked back to the car after checking in. "I'll even eat fast food if I don't have to eat it in the room."

He smiled. "Sure."

She stopped dead and stared at him with exaggerated surprise. When he turned to see what she was doing, she hurried to him. "I must have misunderstood. I thought you said 'sure.'"

"I did."

She grabbed his arm and spun him to face her, her face hard. "Alright, buster! Who are you and what have you done with Rob?"

He chuckled. "Curses! Foiled!" He started her walking again. "I think we're reasonably safe, so there's no reason to eat in the room." He leaned down closer to her ear. "Unless you have something in particular you want me to eat in there," he whispered.

She sighed and touched his lips with her finger. "That'll come later."

"Yes, you will," he rumbled.

She smiled. "If you don't stop, we won't be going anywhere except bed."

"Would that be so bad?"

"No, but I want you to have a good meal first. You're going to need your strength for later."

He opened the car door for her. "Is that a promise?"

"Definitely."

He started the Dodge and handed her his phone. "You pick."

He puttered through the parking lot as she tapped and swiped. "How about the Oar House?" she asked.

"Whatever you want. How do I get there?"

"It's just on the other side of the interstate. Make a right."

Three minutes later he pulled in the parking lot. The place wasn't busy for a Saturday night, so they had no trouble getting a table. He found out why as they sat. It was eight-fifteen and the restaurant closed at nine. Where the dinner scene was just getting started in New York City, Portsmouth was beginning to wind down. Only five hours from New York, and New England was like a different country.

They ordered seafood, which was delicious. They didn't rush through their meals and weren't the last to leave, but they didn't linger. Instead of going back to their room, he decided to take Bae to Prescott Park, something he found browsing his phone while she was in the ladies' room.

"Where are we going?" she asked when he led her past the car and headed away from the motel.

"I found an antidote for your cabin fever."

Portsmouth was a relatively small city. With only a bit over twenty thousand people, nothing in Portsmouth was very far from anything else. Prescott Park was a short ten-minute walk from the restaurant, and New Yorkers walked farther than that for a cup of coffee. They strolled to the park, taking their time. Hardly anyone was around. He took her hand. This was what he missed while in New York, space to breathe and the ability to slow down. In New York everyone was in a hurry, and you were constantly being jostled by the press of humanity. They turned into the park and he led her to the Piscataqua River. He could literally see his home state of Maine on the opposite bank. The sun was almost behind the horizon, making the river ruddy with its glow.

Bae was too quiet. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied, but her tone didn't match the word.

"What's wrong? I thought you'd like to stretch your legs."

"It's not that, and it's beautiful here. It's just..."

"What?"

She stared at the river a moment, apparently unable to meet his gaze. "I don't know. I was thinking about what I did."

"Escape with your life?" he asked, trying to put her actions into perspective.

"Yeah, but I killed that woman, Rob."

"Would you rather have been killed?"

Now she did look at him. "No, of course not."

"You had no choice."

"Maybe not the first time, but I didn't have to keep hitting her. She might have lived if I'd stopped after I'd hit her once."

"You were scared, and you had to make sure she was down for the count. Would you feel better if you'd shot her? You said you tried."

"No," she replied softly.

He turned her toward him. "Bae, listen to me. Taking a life is never easy. I hope you never get used to it, but sometimes you're left with no choice. Remember what we talked about in the car, how you're a sheepdog? Sometimes a wolf has to die to protect the sheep. You did what you had to in order to survive, and because you did, you're going to help a lot of people."

She looked down. "Maybe." She met his gaze again. "That man you killed in the grocery store, do you ever think about it?"

He started to tell her no, but she deserved the truth. He'd killed the man in cold blood. He was down and beaten, but Rob was so jacked up on rage, fear, and adrenaline that he'd killed him when he didn't have to. Nobody would question what happened, and it would go into the books as an accidental death in self-defense, but he knew the truth. It was a secret he'd take to his grave.

"Sometimes."

"How do you deal with it?"

"I remind myself it was him or me. If he'd killed me, then you would have been next. I couldn't allow that, so I held nothing back." She looked down before he caught her chin and tipped her face back up. "Would you rather I held back?"

"No."

"The situation you faced was no different. You did what you had to. Nobody will question what you did, nobody with an ounce of sense anyway."

"How many people have you killed?" she asked softly.

"Three."

"Three?" she asked, her surprise clear. "You mean you'd never killed anyone before you...?"

He shook my head. "No. The two I shot in the alley, and the guy in the grocery. That's it." She continued to watch his face. "Despite what books and movies would like you to believe, many police officers go their entire career without firing their weapon in the line of duty."

She turned to look at the water again. "I know what you say is true, and I'm better today than I was last night."

"And tomorrow will be better than today."

She nodded. "I hope."

"It will be," he said as he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her spine into his chest, his arms embracing her loosely across her stomach.

They stared at the water, saying nothing, as the sky slowly darkened and the lights on the Memorial Bridge blazed to life. He understood what she was going through. He'd had trouble sleeping for a few nights after he'd gunned down the two men in the alley and killed the man in the grocery, but the unwavering support from his fellow marshals had done much to allow him to come to peace with his actions. She'd done what anyone would have, if they were as strong as her, and she had nothing to be ashamed of. He'd remind her of that as many times as it took until she believed it.

"Ready?" she asked.

"For what?"

"To go."

They walked back to the car and drove to the motel. She pulled a change of clothes from the back seat before he led her to their room. She hung her clothes and flopped onto the bed. He settled beside her, sitting on the edge.

"It's going to be okay," he said, placing his hand on her thigh, offering her the comfort of another's touch.