CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Early the next morning, Moose heard his phone buzzing against the nightstand. 0417. Morning training didn't start until 0530. He grabbed the phone and gently slid from bed, covering Erica with the blanket. Stepping outside the bedroom, he ducked into the living room and began scrolling through the text messages. After the fifth one, he just called Hiro.

"I didn't get through them all. Where are they?" he asked.

"Apparently, one of them got a little out of hand at the Perfect Kitty last night on Bourbon. Maybe in North Korea you can touch the merchandise. He learned pretty quickly that he couldn't in America, but I'd say that the bouncer is lucky he was drunk."

"Why?"

"Because even with a blood alcohol twice the allowed limit, he nearly beat the bouncer to death. It was the bartender that smashed him in the back of the head with a whiskey bottle."

"How are we sure it's him?" asked Moose quietly.

"He had a photo of Erica on him. It was an older photo of her as a teenager, but it was her. She hasn't changed at all. Sheriff was smart enough to have someone break into his phone and found an old map route to the café."

"I'll head down there now," said Moose.

"I thought you would. Christopher and Patrick are waiting for you, along with Cowboy."

Moose quietly dressed in shorts and a tee shirt, wearing the stealth vest for protection beneath, just in case. When he slipped on his running shoes, Erica rolled over.

"Go back to sleep," he whispered. "I'm headed into town to check on something with Christopher and a few others. I'll be back by lunch." She nodded as he kissed her sweetly. When he tried to pull back, she held him, pulling him closer.

"I love you, Moose. Come back to me." Frowning, he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her tight.

"What would make you think I wouldn't come back? I will always come back to you," he smiled.

"I-I guess I just thought maybe you were going into town to see Ece."

"Honey, I would never do that without telling you, and I damn sure wouldn't do that without having the boys with me. You have nothing to worry about." He stared at her and realized he needed to tell her. "The sheriff believes he has one of the assassins. We're going to speak to him."

"Oh," she mouthed.

"Yep, oh," he smirked. "I won't ever cheat on you, Erica. Not ever. I love and respect you too much to do that to you. We are solid, baby."

"I'm sorry. It was just that I remembered him, Gordon, leaving very early so he could get back to San Diego and meet his other women. I didn't care, not really. But it did affect me. I guess I didn't realize how much."

"I understand, but that's not what's happening here. Okay?"

"Okay. I trust you," she smiled.

"Good. Now, you get back to sleep, and I'll be back with the others soon." He kissed her once again, leaving her to get a few more hours of rest. When he stepped out of the cottage, the other three men were waiting for him.

"Everything okay?" asked Cowboy.

"Yeah. I think she's just feeling some PTSD from that asshole, William. He often left her to rush back to other women in San Diego and apparently never made much of an effort to hide it."

"He was a dick," frowned Patrick as they got into the truck and drove off. "None of the women were listed on his records, which meant that no one, not his kids, not a woman, no one got his military benefits."

"I hate to hear that," said Moose. "I don't know the situation with the women, but the kids damn sure don't deserve that shit."

"Well, no surprise that Matthew set up an anonymous trust for the kids. The women will get a small stipend that supplements their current incomes, but not enough to live off of fully. The kids will get the money when they graduate from high school."

"Damn, that's awful generous of him," said Cowboy.

"It seems that he and Irene specialize in generosity," said Moose. "Most special people I know. Did y'all know that an hour after everything went down with Ece in London, Mama Irene called me to check up on me?" The men laughed, shaking their heads.

"Well, you never know, maybe she was listening in on comms," laughed Patrick.

"I wouldn't put it past her," said Christopher. "Nor would I blame her. She seems to be where we need her to be when we need her to be there. Not sure how, she just is."

"Amen, brother."

By the time they hit the outskirts of New Orleans, it was raining cats and dogs. Lightning and thunder rattled the windows of the truck, the men careful of which streets they would choose based on the already flooding roads.

By the time they found a parking spot, the rain was steady, and the sky was getting darker. With a couple of umbrellas between them, they dashed toward the door, hoping to not drown in the process.

"I didn't know it was supposed to rain," huffed Moose as they entered the sheriff's office.

"It's always supposed to rain here," smirked Patrick. "I swear to God, it rains more than it doesn't."

"Yeah, but the pay-off is we get all this lush green around us. I'll take that over the desert any day of the week," said Cowboy.

"Agreed."

"Mornin' boys," said the desk officer. "Sheriff's waitin' for y'all."

"Thanks, man. Nice to see you," said Christopher.

"You too," he nodded lethargically. Obviously on the night shift, he was ready to leave and head to bed, but the rain just might delay him a bit.

"Good morning, sheriff," said Moose.

"Fellas, nice of you to come out so early. I wouldn't have known to call except for that photo and the address of the café in his phone. Got no ID at all. Fingerprints are gone, no license, no passport, nothing."

"How did he get here? If he doesn't have a passport, he wasn't on a commercial airliner. So, how?" asked Cowboy.

"Good question. I figured you boys could help him remember. If he can. Bartender definitely hit the shit out of him."

"How is the bouncer?" asked Moose.

"He'll live, but he was fucked up for sure. Folks in the club said the Korean was moving like Jackie Chan and Chuck Norris had a baby."

"Fuck," muttered Cowboy.

"You boys, be careful. He's handcuffed to the bed, but I don't know if that'll last." The men nodded, walking down the long corridor to the elevators for the holding cells. When they stepped off, another deputy nodded, pressing the button to open the door to the cell.

"Third one on the left," he said.

When they reached the cell, the man was lying peacefully, his hand still cuffed to the bed. That was a bit of a relief for them. They worried that if this man was as good as they said, he might find a way out of the handcuffs. Opening the cell door, he stared at them, then sat up.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Your English is good," said Moose.

"I speak many languages. What do you want?"

"We want answers," said Cowboy. "Why are you here?" The man said nothing, leaning back on the cot against the wall. He just stared at the men.

"Did they only send big men to get me? Are you the biggest?"

"They who?" asked Christopher. The man shrugged, then looked up at Moose.

"I remember your face," he said. "You protected the woman and child. It won't matter. She won't live." Moose stiffened, fighting the desire to kill the man.

"She'll live," said Patrick. "You won't. But she will."

"You won't kill me," he laughed. "Your weak country won't allow you to kill me. You'll send me back eventually."

"Or, we'll send you to Guantanamo or worse," said Cowboy. "Or, since the sheriff is our friend, we'll drag your ass out of here, beat the living shit out of you, and then feed you to the alligators."

His face sobered as he stared at the three men. Did they have such power as to be allowed to take him from the cell?

"So, what's it to be? We kill you here or out there?" asked Moose.

"It won't matter. I'll be dead either way and so will the woman."

"You do understand that the man who offered you money to kill her is dead?" asked Christopher. He stared at the man, then at the others. He'd heard that Park was dead, but he thought perhaps it was bogus news. Americans were famous for such propaganda.

"Now, if you already got your money, then you don't have to worry about it. You're free to move on. If he didn't pay you, you won't get paid no matter what happens."

"You have no idea what I will do."

"I know you got drunk last night, tried to rape a stripper on the stage, and beat the hell out of the bouncer. You're going to do hard time no matter what. Why don't you tell us why they want the girl dead."

"Her grandfather. She's the rightful successor to his presidency, in spite of being a pathetic female."

"You really don't know her at all," laughed Moose. "That woman is brilliant and capable. Her grandfather is dead. Her father is dead. End of story. Find someone else to run your fucked-up country."

"She must run it or find someone else. If she lives. My job is to kill her so that she cannot appointment anyone else."

"Why would it matter? She doesn't want the role," said Patrick.

"No, but there will be dozens of men vying for the opportunity, and being a female, she will most certainly choose the wrong one."

"You obviously don't know women very well," laughed Cowboy.

"And you don't know our customs."

"Explain them. Please, I'm listening," said Moose. "Explain what we don't know."

"Her grandfather made sure that she would be his successor when he died. Not her mother, not anyone else. She would be it as the first-born. Then, her mother took her away, leaving the door open for other possibilities. Except, too many people discovered that she was still alive. Now, she must die or marry a Korean of our choice."

"She couldn't marry someone else when she's already married," said Moose. The man frowned at him, then looked at the others. Moose waved his ring finger in the air, smirking at the man.

"Then I stand corrected. It's not her that is in danger. It's you."

"Me?" scoffed Moose.

"Yes. You will now be the target for every assassin who wishes to give another man the opportunity to run my country. We certainly won't tolerate you as our president."

"Well, good news, asshole. I have no desire to run your country, so fuck all of you. Wise up and do something intelligent, like maybe adopt a democracy and vote a president in. I have no desire, nor does my wife."

"It won't matter. Hae-Won Park must die." Cowboy looked at the others, then stepped toward the man.

"It's your lucky day. Hae-Won Park is already dead."