The Marshal Pt. 05

Rob and Bae were hiking leisurely through the woods, making the approximate five-mile walk around the lake. Bae had put herself on a mission the past month. Since her dunking in the lake, she was always at Rob's side, no matter what he was doing.

She'd learned to drive the tractor, which had been a huge help. Before she started pitching in, he'd fell the trees, cut them into sections, and then drove the tractor back and forth moving the wood to the house for later splitting. Now, as he sectioned the tree, she'd take a bucket load of wood to the wood pile, dump it, and return for another load. Once all the trees were cut up and hauled off, they returned with the woodchipper attached to the tractor and she'd help drag and feed the smaller limbs into the machine for disposal. He'd told her she didn't have to help, but she insisted.

When he was doing things she couldn't help with, like grinding out the stumps or using the tractor for heavy mowing, she'd mow the grass, use the side-by-side to ride around and pick up fallen limbs, or when necessary, pull the spreader to fertilize or seed a freshly cleared area.

Not only had she been a tremendous help, the hard work was starting to show on her. In the last month she'd toned up without losing any of her curves. When they were driving from California to New York, he'd have told anyone it wasn't possible for her to become sexier, but he'd been was wrong. Seeing her dirty and sweaty with her hair pulled back, her shirt opened slightly at the neck showing off her breasts, and wearing shorts to display her muscular, tanned legs, made it hard for him to concentrate on the work, which was not a good thing when they were working around machinery.

When the distraction became too much, they'd knock off early, he'd take her back to the house, and they'd engage in long and arduous labor of another kind. Their lovemaking ran the gamut from slow and loving to loud contests of endurance, and everything in between.

But they didn't always work. Today he'd decided he didn't feel like starting a new section of clearing, so they were walking through the trees, the leaves crunching under their feet. When they'd first arrived, she'd have been puffing after walking this far, but now she was striding along with him, her breathing regular and easy.

"Look!" he hissed, pulling her to a stop and pointing through the trees. "See him?"

"No, what?"

"A buck."

She slowly moved behind him and sighted down his arm to see where he was pointing. "I see him! He's beautiful!"

They stood stone still for several minutes, the humans and the deer staring each other down. The buck finally decided they weren't a threat and slowly stepped off, moving as silently as a ghost.

"I can't believe people hunt such beautiful animals," she said as they began walking again.

He didn't have a philosophical problem with people hunting so long as they respected the animal and didn't simply trophy hunt, but he'd never allow people to hunt on his land. The wildlife was safe if it stayed on his property.

He could just hear the gurgling of the stream when his phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket. It was Michelle, and he felt a sinking in his stomach. There was no way this could be good news, and his heart began to pound in his chest. He stabbed the button to accept the call and put Michelle on speaker so Bae could here as well.

"Cogburn."

"July sixteenth. Cogburn, it's Walpole. I have some good news."

His thudding heart slowed slightly. "What?"

"I found the mole. It was one of the women that worked in the booking office. She confessed."

"That's great news!" he cheered. Michelle was like a bulldog. Once she got her teeth into something, she didn't let it go. "How'd you find her?"

"Sherlock Holmes doesn't have shit on me," she teased. "You know that."

Bae and Rob snickered. "I know," he said.

"It took some digging," Michelle continued, "but she was the woman who booked both your plane ticket to California and the one from Phoenix. What made it tough was trying to figure out how she got into the witsec files."

"How did she?"

"She didn't. I don't think anybody tipped Kwang-hoon on Han... on Bae's whereabouts."

"So how'd he find her?"

"My guess? I suspect he was following cars and seeing where they went, eliminating possibilities as he did. That's why it took him two weeks to find her. I'd have liked to have interviewed the building super but..." she paused. "I got a warrant and went through the super's files. He had contact information on every apartment except..." Michelle paused dramatically, "5A. Even if the super didn't know who was in 5A, or that it was a safehouse, the fact that room had no rental information was probably enough for someone to take a closer look. I've recommended that our other safehouses get some false information into the rental files so something like this doesn't happen again."

"Son-of-a-bitch," he muttered. "So, it was the support staff we share with the courts?"

"Yeah."

"Why'd she do it?"

"Why do you think? Money."

"I hope her ass is in jail."

"Oh, yeah," Michelle drawled. "When I confronted her, she first denied it, but I didn't have to be Hernández to know she was lying. It was written all over her face, the bitch. When Martinelli told her she was going to swing for the death of three marshals, she cracked and told us the whole story. Han paid her ten grand for the information, but she denied telling him anything except flight information. I suspect that's true because she didn't have access to anything else."

"What about Gwynn? How does that fit into all this?"

"She told Han that SDM Gwynn was in contact with you because he was the one that ordered her to book the Phoenix flight for you."

"I don't understand how Han hooked her. I mean, how would he know who had information he could use?"

"Kwang-hoon knew Bo-bae was in California, and he knew he'd fucked up when he missed her. He probably started spreading cash around. I suspect that's why he went after the support staff. He needed someone he could easily turn. I guess ten grand must look pretty tempting when all you have to do is tell someone what flights are being booked. The woman was adamant she didn't know what Han was going to do. In fact, she didn't even know you'd been attacked. All she does is make travel arrangements."

"You believe her?"

"Yeah. She's scared shitless and spilled her guts. She swears she didn't know who wanted the information, or why, and claimed she's never heard of Han Kwang-hoon. All she did was send an email each day with the flights the department booked, and for who. It's probably true."

"The email address?"

"Newly created, fake, and accessed from various internet café's all over the city. Nothing there."

Another dead end, but Michelle had found their mole and killed it. "That's damned fine work, Deputy Marshal Walpole," he said, his voice full of bravado.

"You owe me, Cogburn."

"I do. Thank you."

"How's... things... up there in Maine?"

Bae and Rob looked at each other. Michelle had either guessed they'd end up sleeping together or Lou had been talking.

"Fine. Why do you ask?"

"No reason."

"Have you been talking to Lou?"

"No, why?" She paused a moment. "Wait a minute. Were you two... before you left?"

"What makes you think we're doing anything?" he asked, playing dumb.

"Cogburn, I may have been born, but I wasn't born yesterday. Are you alone?"

"Bae is here with me."

"Oh," Michelle grunted.

"Go ahead," Bae said.

There was a long pause. "Is that why you demanded Rob for your protection detail?" Michelle's voice had chilled slightly.

Bae looked at him. "She knows. You might as well answer the question," he said.

"No." Bae paused for a moment. "I trust him. He's always been there when I needed him, and he makes me feel safe."

"But were two were... doing the wild thing before?"

He nodded in encouragement. "Yes," Bae said softly. "It just sort of happened on the drive to New York."

"And Lou knows?"

"Yeah," he said.

"You told her?"

"You know Lou," he said. "You can't hide anything from her. I didn't have to tell her. She knew the moment she walked into the room to bring us in."

"That's secret keeping bitch! She's known all this time and never said anything? She and I are going to have a serious talk," Michelle growled, but he could tell she wasn't upset, and he relaxed knowing their secret was safe.

"How'd you know?" Bae asked.

"I didn't know," Michelle said, her voice teasing, "but if I were in your shoes..."

Bae grinned at him. "I understand. That's kind of why it happened." He wasn't sure he liked being talked about like he was a prize horse a couple of buyers were evaluating. "Rob's not in trouble, is he?"

"Nobody's going to hear it from me."

"Thank you," Bae said. "I don't want to get him in trouble."

"Trust me, Bae, he doesn't need your help," Michelle replied, her tone playful.

"Since you've found the mole, leak, whatever, does that mean I'm coming home?"

"Do you want to?"

Bae glanced at him. "No, not really."

"That's what I suspected. Nobody's said anything about it. You're safe where you are and Martinelli is putting the screws to Han but good, so Kwang-hoon's probably tearing the city apart looking for you. Since Kwang-hoon got to you while you were in witsec, even without inside knowledge, you're probably safer there than here."

"I agree," Rob said.

Michelle snorted. "Somehow I knew you would."

His lips thinned in annoyance. "Despite what you might think, my primary concern is for her safety," he snapped, his voice hard.

"Easy there, big guy," Michelle said softly. "I didn't say it wasn't. You might even have a little additional interest in her safety."

He didn't feel guilty for sleeping with Bae anymore, but apparently he was still a little sensitive on the subject. He had no reason to jump down Michelle's throat like that. "Sorry," he muttered.

"It's all good. Just keep her safe and do what you can to keep her relaxed so she'll be ready to testify when Martinelli is ready to go to trial."

He rolled his eyes. He was never going to hear the end of this.

"He's doing a pretty good job so far," Bae said, her beaming smile clear in her voice. "He's working me to death."

"Yeah," Michelle drawled, stretching the word out. "I imagine that he's really good at--"

"No," Bae interrupted. "I mean I'm helping him with chores. That really helps me sleep at night and gives me a way to work off my boredom and frustration."

"Uh-huh," Michelle smirked. "Girl, you keep telling that lie and maybe someone will believe it. Listen, I have to go. I just wanted to let you know we'd found the mole."

"Thanks, Michelle. I owe you," he said.

"Yes, you do," she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice. "You two take care, okay?"

"Thanks, Michelle. We will," Bae said. "And Michelle?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For what you did to keep me safe... and for... everything else."

"You're welcome. Don't let block head mistreat you."

"He's not."

"When you get back to New York, I'm going to request your protection detail, and I want all the juicy details, okay?"

Bae grinned. "You got it."

"Take care."

"You too," he said before he hung up. "I guess that's good news."

"What? That they found the mole?"

"Yeah. It bothers me that Kwang-hoon tracked you down while you were in witness security, though. That kind of stuff shouldn't happen."

"He's relentless and smart, and he won't stop until he gets what he wants. I told you that. That's why I want you protecting me. You've outsmarted him at every step." She looked past him and stared into space for a moment, her gaze becoming distant and unfocused, before her focus returned to him. "I'm sorry for what happened to Janet and Yoshiko, but I truly believe if you'd been there, it wouldn't have happened. They were suspicious, but they opened the door anyway. I guess because they didn't believe Kwang-hoon could find me. I don't think you'd have made that mistake."

He shook his head. He wouldn't have. He'd learned his lesson the hard way in California. Trying to disarm a gunman who was intent on killing him first, and then Bae, while driving a car in Los Angeles traffic, wasn't his idea of a good time.

"No, probably not. I know what Kwang-hoon's capable of."

She nodded. "That's why I want you with me." She paused, holding his gaze, but she didn't smile. "The other, that's just a bonus."

"I promise, I won't let anything happen to you."

"I know." They started walking. "Will you do something for me?"

"If I can."

"Will you teach me to shoot a gun?"

He stopped, holding her gaze when she stopped to look at him. "Are you sure?" he asked, trying to read her.

"Yes, I'm sure. I'm tired of being afraid and tired of having to depend on someone else to protect me."

"I won't let anything happen to you."

"I know, but if you weren't at least concerned about it, you wouldn't have made backup plans and asked Lou to come for me. I'm not stupid, Rob. Even though you didn't say it, I know all those plans are so I can get away in case you're killed."

"I'm just covering our bases. I don't think anything is actually going to happen."

"And I don't think I'll ever need to shoot a gun, either, but I want to learn, just in case. If I'd known what I was doing when el Tigre broke into the apartment, maybe I wouldn't have had to kill her. Knowing how to use a gun to defend myself might be the difference between me getting away and being killed."

She had him there and he nodded. "Okay, then sure."

"Who knows, maybe I can save your life."

"No," he said firmly. "I'll teach you to handle a weapon, but if the shit hits the fan, you run, you got me? You run and you don't look back. If you can't promise me that, I'm not teaching you. My job is to protect you, even at the cost of my own life, so you have to promise me that if I teach you, you won't do something stupid that will end up getting you killed. Will you promise me that?"

She held his gaze for a long moment before looking at her shoes. "I promise," she said softly.

He tipped her face up. "Good. Then yes, I'll be happy to teach you."

"I'm not just a job to you, am I?" she asked.

He brushed her lips with mine. "You know you're not. Even more reason for you to run."

"But if I were to stay I--"

"Bae, listen to me," he said. "You can help me the most by getting out of danger. I'll teach you, but you have to use what you learn to keep yourself safe. If I know you're safe, then I can focus on getting my own ass out of the fire. Understand?" She nodded, but she didn't look happy. "This is all theoretical anyway. You're not getting rid of me that easy."

"Yeah, I know you're right." She brightened. "Anyway, it's another new skill to add to the long list of things you've taught me."

"Like?"

Her smile spread. "Like driving a manual transmission car, and a tractor, and a lawn mower. How to cook and paddle a kayak." She dropped her voice into her sexy purr. "Among other things. You've been a very good teacher."

"I've learned a few things along the way too."

"God, isn't that the truth," she breathed.

They made their way back to the house, walking well downstream to a place where they could rock hop across the bubbling, gurgling, water without getting their feet soaked. During their walk back, he took the time to educate her on basic gun safety. Unless he was in the boat, he had his pistol on his hip. He felt naked without it, and while the.40 caliber wouldn't stop a moose if it was intent on killing him, it made him feel better to have it.

When they got home, he gathered a couple of boxes of ammunition from his closet, retrieved several paper plates from the panty, grabbed a marker, and headed to the barn. They piled into the side-by-side, chucked a couple pieces of firewood into the back, and drove into the woods, stopping at the edge of the last section they'd cleared. He turned the side-by-side around so the bed was facing in the direction they were shooting.

"Come on. Bring a plate."

He carried the two pieces of wood the dozen steps to a tree as Bae followed with one of the plates. He dropped the two pieces of wood and then positioned the plate, using the firewood to hold it in place. They walked back to the Gator where he drew his Glock, ejected the magazine, cleared it, and handed her the weapon. She handled it like it she was terrified of it and that it was made of the finest crystal.

"Okay, first lesson." He stepped behind her and wrapped her hands firmly around the butt. "You're not going to break it, so get a good, firm grip." He positioned her hands. "Make sure you keep your hands in this position to control the recoil and to prevent the slide from taking a piece out of your hand." She nodded. "Hand me the gun."

She placed the weapon in his hand, and he was pleased that she made sure the muzzle never pointed at either of them, even though she knew the gun wasn't loaded. He handed it back to her and she placed her hands as he showed her. He smiled and nodded in encouragement.

"Remember what we talked about on the walk, right?" he asked as he quickly flicked bullets out of the magazine into his hand until there was only one left. "You never point your weapon at anything you don't intended to destroy. You always assume your weapon is loaded. You never put your finger on the trigger until you're ready to fire. You always check your target and what's beyond it."

She nodded. "I remember. Would you think less of me if I admitted I was nervous?"

"No. I'd think less if you if you weren't. A gun isn't a toy. You have to respect it. Can you close one eye?" She did. "Can you close the other one?" She could, but he could tell it was hard for her. "Okay, point the gun at the plate and close your eye." She did and he smiled. She wasn't cross-eyed dominate, which would make shooting a little easier for her. He crouched down a little to help her sight. "Okay, shoot the plate. Line the front sight up between the rear sights so it's level."

She brought the weapon up, aimed, and squeezed the trigger. The Glock clicked on the empty chamber.

"First, squeeze the trigger, don't jerk on it. Save the jerking on stuff until we're back home." She snickered. He took the gun, worked the slide, and handed it back to her. "Try again."

She brought the weapon up and slowly squeezed the trigger. "Better," he said when it clicked. "Ready to try it for real?" She nodded. He handed her the magazine. "This goes in the butt. Really slam it in there." She did as he instructed. "Now, grab the slide like I did and pull it back. You're not going to hurt it, so give it a good hard yank." She did. "The gun's hot."

He placed hearing protectors over her ears and then did the same. Their hearing protection was designed for chainsaws and the like, not firearms, but they'd work. He nodded at her.

"Let's see what'cha got."

She raised the weapon, aimed, and squeezed. The plate was unharmed. He smiled. At least she hit the tree above it. Good thing he had plenty of ammo on hand.

"Okay, let me show you what you're doing wrong," he began.

They spent around an hour shooting. The best part, as far as he was concerned, was standing behind her, his arms around her, his crotch against her ass as he corrected her grip and showed her how to aim or clear a jam. By the time she complained her hands were getting sore and tired, she was punching holes in a plate on nearly every shot. She was no match for Michelle, but hitting the paper plate was a kill shot. She didn't have to be a marksman. If she ever needed to fire a gun in self-defense, the bad guy would be in close, probably closer than she was to the plate.