by Oliver North
Jake smiled. “He has told me little about you but I am aware of your importance in the community.”
Before the conversation expanded into the area Jake wanted to explore, Gracie, the little girl, now dressed as a ballerina, came dancing into the office performing a make-believe ballet for her grandfather.
As she completed her performance, she curtsied. Her grandfather applauded wildly. “Gracie, that was beautiful. You are a most excellent dancer.”
Soo Min and Tommy applauded as well and Jake reluctantly joined in with what could only be described as mild enthusiasm.
Gracie floated over to Jake, a Caucasian giant to this diminutive four-year-old. “I’m going to be a ballerina. Will you dance with me?”
Before agreeing, Jake looked toward Park for permission. He wasn’t quite sure what was proper protocol and typically didn’t care. He was portraying a crook, not a diplomat, but asking permission seemed like the right thing to do. Gracie saw him seeking approval. She turned toward her grandfather and with the eyes of youthful innocence asked, “Papa, can he dance with me?”
Park smiled, pleased the visitor had sought permission. He nodded in agreement toward Jake.
Gracie let out a faint squeal and grabbed Jake’s hand. For the next several minutes the two danced around the floor, the now-uninhibited undercover agent and the crime lord’s granddaughter. The tough-guy persona was buried for the length of an imaginary song.
Tommy seemed to enjoy the scene almost as much as Mr. Park, only Tommy’s reactions lacked the sincerity of the crime boss. Tommy loved seeing the round-eye making a fool of himself.
As the youthful ballerina extended the dance beyond an imaginary song or two, it became apparent the performance was as much an excuse to avoid bedtime as to entertain her grandfather. After a few too many sashays around the spacious office, Soo Min looked to her husband. “It is time for bed.”
Park then gave the order to Gracie. “It is time for you to go to your bedroom. Jake and Tommy and I have business to discuss.”
Gracie agreed without an argument. She bowed to Jake and when he kneeled down, the young ballerina gave him a huge four-year-old hug. She then ran over to her grandfather and gave him a hug and a kiss.
Soo Min and Gracie walked down the hallway, hand in hand, the younger swaying to another imaginary song. Gracie kept turning around, waving to Jake with her free hand.
“My granddaughter likes the tall American.”
Jake smiled, a genuine smile. “I think your granddaughter is pretty special.”
Park instructed one of his security guards to close the door, but before he could, Jenny brought in a tray with three cups and a steaming pot. “Father, may I offer you and your guests some tea?”
“Yes, of course. Though I suspect my guests might want something stronger than tea,” said Park.
Jenny provided an impish grin. “Do I need to remind you what the doctor said?”
“Tea is fine, Mr. Park,” said Jake as Jenny poured the tea and offered cups to her father, Jake, and Tommy, but not the two security men.
“I understand you were able to assist with a container of valuable watches that arrived the other day,” said Park.
Jake nodded.
“That is good,” said Park. “And I understand we have another container arriving soon.”
“Yes,” said Tommy.
“And you are helping us get that container past the customs officials in San Diego.” It was a statement, maybe even an order, rather than a question.
Jake smiled. “That’s what I do.”
With his daughter still in the room, Park continued the conversation, inquiring more into Jake’s background. The undercover agent provided the basic legend he invented detailing his investments. He downplayed his criminal history, as most crooks would in any initial meeting. Jake had been at this long enough to know how much to reveal, often like a first date, just enough to keep the suitor interested.
“Father, would you like me to stay?” asked Jenny.
“No, we are fine, thank you, unless you would like to stay?”
Jenny shook her head as she made her way to the door, closing it on the way out.
Park waited until she left the room before he rose and slowly ambled to the wet bar. With a conspiratorial smile he offered both visitors a drink. Though the men declined, he poured himself half a glass of cheongju, the clear rice wine that served as Korea’s answer to Japanese sake. He held up the glass and said, “My daughter does not have to know about this.”
“Sir, we don’t wish to take up a lot of your time. I need to discuss something very important,” said Jake.
Taking a sip of his drink, Park said, “We are here to do business; please speak. Tell me why you’ve asked to meet me.”
Without breaking eye contact with Park, Jake said, “It might be better if we talk alone.”
“I don’t think that is necessary, unless you don’t trust the man who introduced us,” said Park.
Jake looked at Tommy. “I trust him as much as I trust any man who deals in smuggled goods.”
Mr. Park let out a hearty laugh and pointed to the two henchmen serving as security guards. “Maybe everyone should leave and allow me to speak with the visitor in the privacy of my office. Please take his weapon with you.” Looking at Jake he said, “You may retrieve your toys on the way out.”
Jake shrugged as if to say, “No big deal.”
“Sir, if you don’t mind I’d like to stay,” insisted Tommy.
Park looked at Jake, then back to Tommy. “It’s your associate who asked you to leave. Maybe you should have worked out the logistics before you came.”
“I’d like to stay,” said Tommy, defiantly looking at Jake.
“Tommy, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Let me talk with Mr. Park alone. After the discussion, if he wants me to share our conversation I certainly will, but this matter is personal.”
“But I don’t want to leave,” said Tommy, attempting to regain a position of strength after being slighted by Jake.
“Tommy, your friend has a point. I will listen in private to what he has to say, then I will decide how much to share.”
As Tommy headed to the door, he turned briefly and corrected Park. “He’s a business associate, not a friend.”
Tommy still didn’t trust Jake and carrying the concealed weapon into Park’s home only fueled his anxiety. The young Korean criminal entrepreneur had spent more than a year cultivating a relationship with Park and he feared Jake was about to undo all that—perhaps intending to cut him out of the action.
As the two security guards escorted Tommy to the hallway, he glared at Jake. When the trio reached the doorway, the larger of the two guards said, “Mr. Park, we will be standing outside the door in case you need us.”
Park nodded without saying a word. As the door closed, Park gestured toward the bottle of Chung Ha, Korea’s most popular brand of cheongju, but Jake again declined the drink.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
“Mr. Park, this is a somewhat delicate situation and I hope you understand I come with the best intentions.”
“Go on.”
“I believe you know an attorney named H. Daniel Reid.”
“But of course, he handles many of my legal affairs. I can assure you it is all on the up-and-up,” said Park, taking a casual sip of the cheongju.
Jake flashed a wry smile. “Mr. Park, I am aware of your reputation and I have spoken with Reid. I know it’s not all on the up-and-up, but I’m not here to discuss your criminal enterprise.”
Park took another sip of his drink. “Then what is so important we need to meet in private?”
“Reid contacted me the other day. He hired me to kill someone.”
“And you are capable of doing such a thing?” asked Park, as if contract killings were on par with real estate transactions.
“Yes, but that’s not important—”
“Then what is important?” asked Park, interrupting Jake.
“He hired me to kill your daughter,” said Jake.
Park’s reaction was more sedate than Jake expected. The crime boss slowly turned toward the wet bar and poured another drink. He took a sip, then just as slowly turned to face the FBI agent. He eyed Jake as if trying to determine how much to reveal to the visitor. “Did he give a reason for wanting my daughter dead?”
“Yes, sir, he did,” said Jake, acting cautiously but eager to get to the meat of the undercover meeting.
“Is she carrying his child?”
“You suspected?”
“Yes, I suspected. Now, why did you come to me?”
“Sir, he offered me fifty thousand dollars to kill Jenny. He wants it done next week while she is in Las Vegas handling business for you. He’ll be at a legal convention in Hawaii. I have no issue with killing anyone but I don’t kill children, born or unborn. Also, once he identified Jenny and I realized she was your daughter, I knew this was a task requiring the utmost discretion. I know what an important man you are in this community. I thought you might like to buy the contract and who knows, maybe in the future we could do business if you would ever need me for such services.”
Park opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a Cartier tricolor gold cigarette case identical to the one Reid and Yeong carried. He opened the container and offered a cigarette to Jake, who shook his head. “These are the Indigo, a most popular brand in Korea.”
“No, thank you. That’s a beautiful case, though. Reid and Yeong have similar ones.”
“I gave them as gifts but apparently one recipient has betrayed me.” Park paused briefly, as if debating whether to enlighten him. “My daughter has had many problems, not all of her own making. Her husband died a year ago and she has lived with us ever since.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Jake.
“To compensate for her pain she has spent far too much time masking her grief in nightclubs and other such unwholesome places. Her mother and I recognize she must grieve in her own way, so we have been tolerant of her actions.”
“It’s not easy being a widow and a mother,” said Jake, who understood loss.
“Oh, she is not a mother, at least not yet. Gracie is not hers. As you may have determined in the short time you have been here, Jenny has little to do with Gracie, who was my other daughter’s child. Lily and her husband were killed tragically the same time Jenny’s husband died. We have provided for my daughter and for Gracie, as you can see. Perhaps we have overcompensated.”
“Your love is apparent, Mr. Park.”
“My daughter has assisted me in some of my business dealings but seeks too much reward for far too little effort. She views me as her personal ATM machine.”
“I’m sure once the grief dies she will appreciate all you and your wife have done,” offered Jake.
“One might hope. She has become quite fond of the nightlife in the Korean community. Apparently she partied once too often with my attorney.”
Park then removed a cigarette, tapped it on the case, and placed it in his mouth. He looked at Jake, waiting for him to make the next move. The undercover agent was confused until he realized Park expected him to light the cigarette. Reaching deep into both pockets, Jake withdrew empty hands.
Park nodded toward an object on the desk, but rather than prolonging the moment, Park picked up the gold Tiffany antique lighter shaped like an owl. He popped open the head and lit the cigarette.
Jake watched with an apologetic grin.
Park took a long drag before removing the cigarette from his mouth and slowly blew out the smoke. “You would sell Reid out for fifty thousand dollars?”
“I will kill him for fifty thousand dollars.”
Park nodded, placing the cigarette back in his mouth. After a quick puff Park asked, “If you are so quick to break faith with my attorney, how do I know you won’t play me? Maybe even going back to Reid in an attempt to renegotiate the contract on my daughter.”
Jake smiled and walked toward the wet bar. “Maybe I’ll take that drink now.”
Without saying a word, Park walked to the bar and poured him a drink, refilling his own glass as well.
Jake took a small sip, then said, “Mr. Park, I’m a pragmatic man. Reid, on the other hand, is a street-hustling shill whose law degree legitimizes his three-card monte act. Since he doesn’t have the fortitude to pull the trigger or do the honorable thing, he seeks out mechanics who can fix his problem. My contempt for his kind is long-standing. He needs to go down on principle alone. I view it as pulling one more weed from the garden of life. You, however, command great respect and lead an enterprise only a fool would challenge. Reid’s a fool who chose to fight a losing battle. I don’t need many friends but I certainly don’t side with losers.”
Park smiled and lifted his glass to Jake. “You have chosen wisely.”
“Are you buying out the contract?”
“You will do wise not to harm my daughter and soon I will reward you with suitable compensation. As to H. Daniel Reid, I will see to it the problem is resolved. You need not trouble yourself. I was aware of your meeting with my attorney and I will handle it.”
“Aware?”
“My men observed you meeting.”
Jake smiled. “The homeless man.”
Park nodded.
“I presume both the Green Hornet and Kato were on the pier,” said Jake.
Park smiled. “Yes, but don’t assume they are cartoon characters. They provide many services and do so quite well.”
“Such as standing in the hallway guarding my Glock and keeping an eye on Tommy.”
Park smiled as he handed Jake a business card with his cell phone number. “I think we may need to speak again soon.”
Jake offered a sincere smile. “Sir, it is an honor to meet you. I look forward to a long and prosperous business relationship.”
Park simply nodded.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
A third security guard was entering Park’s home as Jake retrieved his firearm, the now-empty magazine, and a handful of bullets. By the time he got out the front door, Tommy was already entering his car.
Jake headed toward the Lexus and stood by the driver’s-side door as the two men stared at each other across an uncomfortable silence. Tommy finally rolled down his window and snapped, “I don’t want to talk here.”
“Okay.”
“Follow me in your car.” It was an order, not a request.
The four men and one woman in the Honda Pilot watched Tommy and then Jake leave the crime lord’s residence. As they were parked in the shadows and down the street from the house, their presence went undetected by either man. Tommy was blinded by his anger, and Jake was forced to concentrate on following the black Lexus as Tommy sped out the driveway.
After the cars turned at the stop sign at the far end of the block, Kareem Abdul, the assassin-bartender, eased forward, parking the Pilot just beyond the range of the security cameras. The three Arab men from the mosque who accompanied Kareem on the mission were in the backseat. The windows were down and all five welcomed the cool night breeze. Tensions were high and the diluted smell of nervous perspiration lingered.
Candy offered each a piece of Korean confection but the men refused. She casually unwrapped the piece, tossed the cellophane wrapping out the window, and popped the candy in her mouth, enjoying the flavor combination of ginseng extract, honey, sugar, and peppermint.
“How much longer?” whispered one of the Arab men from the back as he and the others shared a look.
Earlier in the week Candy had reported to Kareem that Park’s two most trusted security men never spent the night at the residence. However, each evening one of Park’s many underlings stayed at the house as a precaution should anyone breach the grounds’ costly security system. The guard was housed in a small room just inside the front door and to the left. His quick elimination tonight would remove the only real impediment to success.
“His security detail is
probably ready to call it a night and will leave soon. Give everyone a chance to settle down. Let Park relax after his company leaves. We don’t need anybody still on high alert,” said Kareem, sipping his second cup of coffee.
This morning at the mosque, following sunrise prayers, the men had reviewed their respective assignments, studying the detailed floor plan of the house Candy provided. Inside the warehouse where Gabe Chong had been murdered, Kareem measured off a mini-replica of the home, with tape and string serving as the makeshift residence.
The team practiced moving commando-style from room to room, clearing each as if in combat. Though not perfect, they developed a level of discipline and sophistication they believed would be adequate for tonight’s mission.
Mohammed valued Kareem’s expertise and was grateful he brought this opportunity to the attention of the cell. The entry was to be through the front gate, breaching it as Kareem had done before on home invasions prior to his stint in prison. Tonight all were armed and prepared to resolve any resistance with controlled violence. The only three who needed to survive the assault were Park, his daughter, and the granddaughter, all of value to the cell. The death of any of the three diminished the chance the terrorists would prosper.
The three Arab men in the backseat were anxious. This was the first mission for the Hezbollah terrorists since they had been smuggled across the Mexican border into the United States.
If they were successful tonight, the proceeds from this operation would be sufficient to bring more of the fighters from their special unit on the long trip from Beirut to Caracas and up through Mexico. The trio were seasoned warriors. But all their missions in the Middle East had been direct action against opposition leaders or attacks against American military personnel in Iraq, Afghanistan, South Sudan, or Turkey. All of them had served with Hezbollah squads in Syria, propping up the Assad regime in Damascus.
They were experts at rigging improvised explosive devices and assassination shots resulting in death to infidels and apostates.
Tonight’s mission was more complicated. The three men believed in themselves and each other but not in Kareem. They knew from Rostam that the black prison convert was a newcomer to the jihad. They were prepared to die as martyrs for the cause, but they weren’t certain about the man at the wheel. They were good soldiers and accepted this assignment because Mohammed had ordered their participation. And like good soldiers they kept their doubts to themselves and hoped the worst wouldn’t happen.
