Medina made the crocodile smile again, and Ghazi wondered why the man never fixed his teeth.
Ghazi al-Diri watched Medina walk away, then went to his car. He was driving a charcoal gray Lexus SUV Pinetta got cheap from one of his thieves. Pinetta would be difficult to replace; far more difficult than Ghazi’s brother-in-law, whose only talent had been Maysan’s love.
Ghazi lifted a short, black shotgun from behind the front seat. He did not trust these gangsters, and felt sure they would attack. He could feel them. Someone was hunting him.
Ghazi made sure the shotgun was loaded, then followed Medina inside. There was still much to be done before the killing began.
Kwan Min Park
Kwan was seated with Jack and Krista when Samuel Rojas and the other guards entered and went to his people. One of the guards lashed a man with his club to clear a path, and Rojas went to a girl named Sun Hee. Rojas used her as a translator because she spoke the best English.
Sun Hee jumped to her feet, listened to her master, then translated his words. Had she been male, Kwan would have hated her for cooperating and likely broken her neck. As a submissive female, he expected no less than her humiliating subservient behavior, but had sought to use it. He had instructed her to offer her sex to the guards so that she might steal a weapon, but so far she had failed.
As she spoke, the group traded glances, some smiling, and rose to their feet.
Jack said, “What’s going on?”
Kwan looked at his friend.
“Not know. How you?”
Jack Berman closed his eyes and touched the back of his neck.
“Hurts like a sonofabitch. You know headache? I have a monster headache.”
Kwan wasn’t certain what “monster” meant, but knew it must be bad.
“You better. See good. Talk.”
Krista smiled.
“Much better.”
Sun Hee interrupted. She begged Kwan’s forgiveness for daring to speak, and quickly explained as he watched his group straggle to the door. Kwan was surprised, but such a thing was expected.
Krista spoke as soon as Sun Hee hurried away.
Krista said, “Where are they going?”
“We go. Ssang Yong Pa make us free.”
He saw the confusion in Krista’s face.
“Family. Clan. Ssang Yong Pa my family.”
Kwan studied his new friends, and felt mixed about leaving them. He gripped Jack Berman’s arm.
“First night, guards beat, you try help. Kwan Min Park remember. Now, forever, we friends. My clan, much power. Kwan Min Park, much power. Great warrior. I kill many men.”
Kwan read the fear in Krista’s eyes before she interrupted.
“Kwan-”
The club crossed his back with a sharp explosion of pain. Kwan turned in time to see the club falling again, parried it to the inside, and stopped himself from punching the guard Krista called the Praying Mantis in the neck. Sun Hee was with him, as was the belligerent guard with the teeth, Medina.
Sun Hee was frantic.
“You must come. We go now. You must come.”
Medina pushed the Mantis and Sun Hee aside, and grabbed Kwan’s arm. Kwan let the man pull him to his feet, then shrugged off his hand. Kwan stood very close, nose to nose, eyes close. Medina grimaced almost as if growling and pushed his shock prod into Kwan’s side. The sharp pop when it discharged was like being kicked, but Kwan did not react. The prod tortured his flesh, but Kwan smiled to show his defiance.
The Mantis and Sun Hee both pushed him toward the door, ending the moment, and Kwan glanced back at his friend Jack Berman.
“Kwan not forget. I help you, Jack Berman, as you try help me.”
Kwan turned away, and allowed himself to be herded into line with the others. Outside in the hall, the remaining half of their group was being herded from the other room, and Medina disappeared.
Sun Hee, beside him, twittered like a wearisome bird.
“You should not antagonize them. He is very angry.”
“His anger does not interest me. Be quiet.”
“We are not yet free. You should be careful.”
“He should be careful. When we are free, he will meet the true me.”
Kwan pushed her ahead so he wouldn’t have to listen.
They passed through the kitchen and into the garage. The big truck had been backed to the door, and was waiting for them. Kwan noted the guards here in the garage carried shotguns or military weapons, and appeared nervous. He wondered why.
The end of the line slowed as those in front climbed into the truck. Kwan Min Park was near the end. He was happy that he would soon see his grandfather and cousin, and wondered if they would be on hand to greet him. He would miss Korea, but taking his rightful place among Ssang Yong Pa in the great city of Los Angeles had long been a dream. He shuffled forward, moving closer to the truck and to his destiny.
Kwan wondered if he would see his friend Jack Berman again. He hoped so. He was imagining them drinking soju and singing at one of his grandfather’s Noraebang studios, when some hard thing slammed into the back of his head.
The world sparkled.
Kwan felt himself fall, but had no power to stop. He opened his eyes almost at once, and realized he was on his back.
Medina grinned down at him.
Kwan felt a surge of fear, and tried to rise, but men held his arms and legs.
Medina raised a steel hammer high above his head, and brought the hammer down.
Kwan Min Park tried to turn away, but couldn’t.
Joe Pike
Pike watched the six men slip past the box truck as they left the garage for the pickups. Two had AKs, and the rest had shotguns. They mounted up, two men each in three of the smaller trucks. Two more men came from the garage and climbed into the larger truck’s cab.
Pike was pressed into the sandy soil at the base of a date palm forty yards away. He keyed his sat phone, and gave Jon Stone the description and license plate of each of the four vehicles.
Stone said, “Copy. Eight men out?”
“Eight.”
“Helps.”
Three minutes later a bronze Dodge pickup pulled away, followed by a silver Ford. The box truck rumbled after the Ford, and the last pickup fell in behind the box truck.
Pike whispered again.
“Leaving now.”
As the trucks rolled toward him, Pike stared at the garage. Two men watched from the door, then moved back into the garage and disappeared into the shadows.
Pike didn’t move as the trucks passed. He held his position until they reached the street, glanced back to see them turn, then spoke again.
“Going in.”
Jon Stone said, “Other side, bro.”
Pike moved deeper into the trees, and watched the garage as he ran from trunk to trunk to the building. He came out of the grove behind the garage, drew his pistol, and made his way to the door. He heard nothing, so he eased to the ground and peeked. Three SUVs and a pickup were parked inside, but he saw no one.
