by Gunn, Autumn
“I said you got me. You win. There’s nothing more I can do.”
“You just figure that out?” They laughed uncontrollably.
“Let me have one last cigarette. One before I die in the middle of the ocean in a sardine can.”
“You want cigarette? Nothing free in this life. You earn cigarette.”
“Fair enough. How do I earn it?”
They looked at each other and laughed. The one on the right pulled out his Samsung mobile phone.
“You Navy SEAL, right?”
“I’m not active duty anymore.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m retired.”
“But you were?”
How do I explain to him that there’s no such thing as a former Navy Seal? Once a SEAL, always a SEAL. More importantly what’s my plan? My stall is barely working. I need some action.
“Yes, I was.”
“Good enough. You can pretend you still are.”
They spoke quickly in Korean and then began laughing again.
“You ready to be Youtube star?”
“I get a cigarette?”
“You gonna get a lot more than a cigarette.” The both laughed uncontrollably.
There was no way I was going to dishonor myself, my country, and the SEALs. Not an option. They could even torture me if they wanted. I’m not selling out.
“One cigarette first.”
“We in charge. Cigarettes after.”
“OK. What are we doing?”
They laughed again. This was really getting old.
“We gonna teach you Korean prison song. Initiation song. Just think of it like karaoke.”
“I’m a good singer.”
They couldn’t control their laughter. “Singing in prison…a little different.” They laughed so hard they were bent over. Hands on their knees.
Now was my chance to show these guys how American sports work. I got a two step running start before they even realized it was coming. They were too close together. I had to choose one. I decided to give the guy on the left all I had, and for that I needed to follow through. I planted my left leg on the fifth step. This scum of the earth just began his upward motion in order to stand up straight. This only helped me more. By this point it was too late. My foot connected about 24 inches off the ground. I followed through like I was kicking a 63 yard field goal to win the Super Bowl. Blood went everywhere. At a minimum his nose was broken and his vision gone. I spun back into position and delivered a leg sweep taking down the other thug. I jumped for a face stomp but he rolled out of the way and he righted himself immediately getting to his feet. My hands were tied and I was about to square off with what was likely a martial arts expert. My odds had improved for about three seconds. Now they were falling again…fast.
He came at me in a flurry of fists and spins. I managed to dodge the initial onslaught but as he passed me he caught me with a reverse elbow to the kidney. I tasted blood immediately. He came back at me in another flurry finishing with a jump and elbow hammer to the shoulder. The pain was like a boulder dropping down. I felt the pain ripple through my entire being, sending me to the concrete. I instinctively rolled, which turned out to be a good idea as a boot landed where my head had just been. I rolled over like a turtle and stumbled to my feet. He just laughed at me.
“Where you want it?”
“Try me.”
“He came again but straight like a football tackle, he pulled up short at the last second and prepared to deliver cupped hands to each side of my head. My eardrums would have ruptured on impact, but I caught a break. I couldn’t take his charge standing still. At nearly two inches taller than my 6 feet 5 inches and probably 50 pounds heavier thanks to cocktails of steroids and blended egg whites it might have been the end of me if he landed it square. I took my forward momentum and landed a perfect head butt. Cracking his nose. I had delivered two broken noses, but was still losing the battle. I had to free my hands from this rope. My belt prong was the only option. As the thug stumbled from the shock of impact and the blurred vision from the watery eyes that accompany a head butt I tried the prong. It was secured too well and even if I had been able to free it there’s no way it would have been sharp enough. The belt I left in the hospital when I walked out…a different story.
I was running out of options and fast. I made my way back to the men and delivered two more kicks to each to keep them down and off me. I couldn’t run. They’d eventually catch me. I couldn’t jump in the harbor. I wasn’t fit to swim. What to do?
I heard an owl noise 10 yards to my left, in the darkness.
“Jax. Over here. Quick.”
I ran to the darkness by a dumpster. “Jerry, get out of here.”
“I saw everything. I got a piece of sheet metal. It’s sharp enough.” Jerry went to work simultaneously sawing through the rope with the sharp piece of metal and trying to untie the knot with his other hand. I never would have wanted, or trusted, a kid to be involved in such a situation. I knew Cole had been working a lot with Jerry, but still, this was way above what he should be exposed to. I also knew this was our only option and if Jerry didn’t get me free, he’d soon wind up with a fate similar to his mom and I.
The thugs started to come to and stumbled their way over towards the dumpster. From their position it looked like I was trying to rub the knot against the side of the dumpster. Jerry would be blocked from their view. If they got close I’d have to lunge in their direction. The question was could Jerry get the rope off in time?
“Smooth is fast. Smooth is fast.” I kept hearing him repeat. I knew he got this from Cole. Get in a hurry and you’re almost sure to mess up the process prolonging the time. Stay calm, and smooth, and the fast times come quick. It the saying we always used when disassembling and assembling our weapons. Jerry had learned it.
As they stumbled closer I felt the tension in the rope slack. They were seven yards out. At four yards I could almost free my hand. At three yards my left hand was out. At two yards one of the thugs came with a running kick in my direction. I ducked and his leg landed squarely on the cold steel dumpster. My left hand was free. My right hand had the rope still attached but was usable. I moved towards the other thug keeping my hands behind my back. He came with a jab. I pulled my hands from behind my back for a block. The surprise on his face was a combination of shock and anger. I rotated my hand down and away and grabbed his forearm. I lifted my right leg and delivered a downward blow with my boot to his shin. Tibia broken. I spun back just in time to see a circling fist coming towards my head coming from the thug who had thrown the kick. I ducked and had a clear shot at his groin. All is fair in love in war. I pulled my right elbow back and then thrust my fist forward, delivering the blow no man wants to receive. Ever. He was down and not getting up anytime soon. I put both in sleeper holds I had learned watching wrestling as a child on TV. Surprisingly they actually work. I removed the rope from my right hand and tied the two men to the dumpster. They weren’t finished, but they wouldn’t be able to free themselves anytime soon. And I was also leaving a trail for law enforcement. They’d surely find my prints at the scene so I needed to compile as much evidence in my favor as possible. I’d need it after they found the three dead bodies and I still didn’t know who was dirty and who wasn’t when it came to law enforcement on this case.
“Jerry, take this phone. Remember I told you to call the last number dialed?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re going to run in this direction as far as you can for five minutes. I pointed. Go fast, but keep your eyes and ears open as you go. At five minutes dial the number and tell the girl your full name and that you’re at the Port of New Jersey at Seven Seas Import / Export and Jax Justice is requesting a response. Can you remember all that?”
“Yes, sir, but what about my mom.”
“I’m going to get her right now. Now go.”
Jerry took off without hesitation. I moved around back to the front door just in time to se
e Kong leading Kate out towards the car. I put the scope from the gun I took off the dead thug on the back of Kong’s head.
“Let her go, Kong. It’s over.” He froze, turning around slowly. He had the gun pointed directly in her chest. I couldn’t take a shot and he knew it.
“It’s over. You’re going to be surrounded in four minutes.” I wasn’t joking, but with the response time it would be more like seven.
“It’s never over, Justice. It’s never over, because you can’t finish. That’s your weakness. You can make your way to the water, but you can’t take a drink. Too weak.”
“I said…let…her…go.”
“You want me, Justice?”
“I got you, Kong.”
“You got nothing.”
“You take me like a man and you can have your worthless girl. Put down your weapon or I shoot her now.”
I knew someone as ruthless as Kong wasn’t joking. He would kill Kate if he thought there was no chance of his mistake.
I slowly bent down to a knee and laid my pistol on the ground. Kong pushed her to the side and placed his weapon on the deck.
He extended his arms and called me with his hands. “You want her? Come get her.”
“Kate move behind the building.” Kate looked at me and at Kong. I could see he wasn’t going to stop her, but there was nowhere for her to go once she was behind. She would have to jump in the water with her hands tied, and I was pretty sure she had never done 30 minutes of drown proofing. After she realized what was happening she ran for cover.
Kong was Korean and a taekwondo master so I was expecting a lot of kicks. Head high kicks and spins were the trademark of taekwondo. Even at one hundred percent I wouldn’t be able to take him in such a battle. At my current state of about fifty percent I didn’t stand a chance. I had to land a single lethal blow or take him to the ground and use my three months of Brazilian Jiu Jitsu training we had in the outskirts of Rio to my advantage. My mind flashed back to those months. The single SEALs were dialed in on the training, but were also dialed in in Rio’s famous nightlife. I had already started my family and as a married guy I opted for retiring to my room each night or going for a run on Copacabana’s famous boardwalk. Being a dad was possibly going to save my life.
I ran directly at Kong. I could see him smile. He began the spin for his kick as I was about one meter away. He was expecting me to stay waist high. No such luck. I was about to teach Kong the lessons he seemed to lack regarding American sports. My mind flashed back to high school baseball. The slide drill to prevent double plays. I slid feet first into his plant leg. He definitely spun, but not the single rotation he though. He completed a 720 degree turn and went straight down. I jumped on top of him, knowing I didn’t want to get into a long battle with a healthier, rested competitor. I delivered a downward punch towards his head, but he rolled to my right throwing me from his body and jumping back to his feet. One take down, one opportunity lost. We were back to square one.
“You surprise me, Justice. You move fast for old cripple.”
Kong slid my direction. His feet moving in a staccato marching action as he moved his hands in short striking motions. As he got closer I threw an uppercut and missed. I was exposed and greeted with a flurry of short, but very painful strikes to my midsection. It’s amazing how much power martial artists can generate from such short strikes. Then came the kick to back of my hamstring which dropped me. I was down.
I expected Kong to remain standing. The preferred position for his discipline, but instead he came to the ground with a kick. He missed and I wrapped his down ankle in the back of my knee and flexed my hamstring locking his ankle in position. I rolled left bringing him down with me. This time he wasn’t going to get up. I delivered an elbow to the face and a fist to the gut. My third busted nose of the night. Kong reached up with both hands and got me by the neck. He began squeezing. My limbs went weak so I dropped my weight down on top of him, which allowed me some wiggle room in his grip and some much needed air. I put my hands around his neck and squeezed. It was a battle to see who would pass out first. I could feel the lightheadedness. I couldn’t think. Vision went. I just knew to keep squeezing. And squeeze some more. Then the pressure stopped. I fell on my side. Kong had passed out first, unless I killed him. I coughed for air. I could hear more coughing to my side. He was still alive. After nearly 25 seconds I got to my feet. I saw a broken off container handle in the distance. I went for it. Kong stumbled to his feet.
“It’s not a touchdown. It’s a grand slam!” I ran directly at Kong as I got close I pulled the handle back and began my swing. I hit him square. Center mass. He dropped. I fell on top of him and squeezed his neck. He squirmed and tried to kick me in the groin. He landed one, but it was too late. He didn’t have enough power behind it. He reached for my eyeballs and squeezed. I didn’t care. This was going to be it. I squeezed, and squeezed, and squeezed. I could feel Kong kick and shake. That’s the last thing I remember before I passed out.
Chapter 19
“Agent Koban, we’re going to need you to drop by later today. The director wants to speak with you personally.”
“Thank you. Did he mention a time?”
“1700. Last meeting of the day. He’ll probably offer you a drink. Best to take it, even if you don’t drink.”
“Will do. Thanks, Clooney.”
“My pleasure, and congrats on bringing that scumbag down.”
“Well, we’ll have to thank Justice when he wakes up.”
“Is that his real name?”
I could hear Kate laugh. “I think that’s the question that’s on everybody’s mind, including mine. I’ll let you know if and when I find out.”
I opened my eyes, but everything was blurry.
“Agent Koban?”
“Just rest, Jax. I’ll explain everything later.”
I closed my eyes and was sure I was in a bad dream. What was going on now?
Chapter 20
I slept until the next morning. When I woke, Kate was by my bedside.
“Hey, you’re alive.”
“Barely.”
“What’s going on?”
“What’s going on? You saved the day!”
“Not that. I heard some guy call you Agent Koban.”
“Oh, yeah. That. We need to talk about that.”
“We sure do.” Kate was silent. “Who are you?”
My real name is Kate Koval, just like I told you. I officially changed my name to Koban when I joined the agency, but stuck with the Koval name for the time as I was in the middle of a big case.”
“What case? What agency?”
“Jax, I’m an FBI agent. I’ve been working to bring down a Russian trafficking ring for over a year. We were kind of stuck until you showed up. Once you paid a visit to Hrytsenko everything started moving fast. Really fast.”
“So you used me for your op. Great.”
“I didn’t use you. I really had a stalker. And I truly thought it was Hrytsenko. We all did. The case was getting old so we lost the approval and funding. We were off the books. I thought Hrytsenko was looking for me, but it turns out it wasn’t him, it was Kong.”
“Kong? Why was Kong bothering you?”
“We were never really sure how reliable Hrytsenko was. He had too many loyalties and we couldn’t be sure if he had really turned and was working for us, or if it was just a passing fancy that he might change tomorrow. He was too risky to use as an asset.”
“But how does that include Kong?”
“Kong put a price on my head after those cables were released. He’s a strong nationalist and when he found out it was my grandfather that worked with the Americans to provide such important information about the Wonsan Harbor during the Korean War he wanted me dead. That was the case I was actually assigned to.”
“So unofficially you were working on the Russian trafficking ring and officially you were working on Kong. The more we worked on Kong, the more we realized the two were related. Beyo
nd related actually. They were one and the same. Kong was getting girls out of Russia and the former Soviet Republics, especially Ukraine, and bringing them to Asia for prostitution and other forms of indentured servitude. Maids, house cleaners, high-end escorts, kept women…you name it, they promised and provided it to their Asian clients. Of course their quote unquote debts for their passage to Asia would never be paid off. They would remain slaves forever, or more accurately, until they were discarded and replaced with the next Eastern girl hungry for any chance to improve her future.”
“That’s it exactly.”
“Why was I allowed to unofficially pursue this case without the FBI stepping in?”
“You weren’t. That’s why they showed up at your door that morning. They were trying to gauge what you were capable of. They had your records, but knew you weren’t active anymore. They weren’t expecting you to be so resilient. I mean they knew you were tough, but not superman tough. And of course they weren’t expecting us to fall in love, and me to get kidnapped.”
