by Warren Court
There was a shout and a scuffing sound on the gravel, and Temple was flung to the ground. He rolled over on his side. Kiet Du was wrestling with the security guard. Curtis’s chrome-plated .45 was still in his hand. Temple saw the flash of a blade: Du had a knife— Curtis’s knife. Du had pulled it from his belt. Temple made to get up and help Du, but his help was not needed. Du jammed the blade into Curtis’s chest. The fight went out of Curtis and he collapsed to the ground. Temple jumped up, pushed Du away and straddled the fallen security guard. He watched the former Marine’s final few breaths.
“Where’s your daughter?” he asked Du.
Du yelled something in Vietnamese and the girl came out of the woods on the far side of the clubhouse. She ran to her father and they hugged again. The three of them stood there looking at the security guard.
“You will arrest me now,” Du said. Temple wasn’t sure if it was a question or a command.
“Nope,” Temple said.
“What?”
Temple reached back and pulled his wallet out of his pocket. “Your buddy’s identity papers.” He took them out and held them out to Du. “Here,” he said. “You can get these fixed up with your own photo. Start again.”
“Why?”
“You saved my life.” He looked down at the security guard. “And you had the right.” Du took the papers. “Just move the hell way from here. I hear Vancouver is a nice place.”
“Thank you.”
“Welcome to Canada,” Temple said.
As Du and his daughter walked off down the road. Temple started dragging the security guard’s body into the woods. No way could he explain this to anybody and Temple had a rule about not having more than one SIU investigation running at any one time. The guy wanted to go out like Rambo, let him be buried in his element. Missing in action.
The end
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