“You had Italian for lunch. I smell the garlic.”
Trey grinned like a five-year-old learning to appreciate bodily functions, then whispered, “This isn’t one of your brighter moves.”
“You mean sitting in a surveillance van with some flatulent-friendly immature adolescent?”
“No, sitting in this alley waiting to accost a godfather wannabe. Can you live with this if it all goes south?”
“I can live with it as long as I’m only an unindicted co-conspirator,” said Jake with a smirk.
“Boldness and stupidity never seem like a good combination,” said Trey just above a whisper.
In an equally low voice Jake said, “If you’ve got a better plan I’d like to hear it. I’m convinced Yeong and his thugs know what happened to Jenny and Gracie. And since Gabe works for Yeong, somebody in this establishment must know where he is.”
“Jake, just worry about getting Park’s container in. Let him and his goons find the daughter and the little girl. If the San Marino cops and the LAPD are telling us the truth, Park’s men are covering every inch of Koreatown. And if our missing clandestine service officer has gone to ground in the neighborhood, they will likely find out what’s going on with him as well. You don’t need to be involved. Let Park’s heavies handle Henry Yeong.”
“Everyone is telling me to ignore Yeong. According to Hafner and Rachel, Park’s the big fish, the North Korean IO. If something bad has happened to Gabe and Yeong’s crew didn’t do it, isn’t it likely Park’s people did?”
Trey nodded. “That’s certainly possible since he was hired on as part of Yeong’s security travel team. It’s also possible Yeong is behind the kidnapping and Gabe is now guarding the girls wherever they are being held and can’t communicate.”
“Well, if we find Jenny and Gracie in the hands of Yeong’s goons, we not only save the girls but think of the credibility I gain with Park and his syndicate.”
“You’ve already got credibility.”
“I need to find Jenny and Gracie. You’re the case agent. This is all so detached for you. It’s just another investigation. But for me it’s personal. These two, especially the little girl, shouldn’t become pawns in some surreal and sanguinary parlor game because Park wears a black hat.”
“Pretty big words for an undercover agent, Jake. But Jenny’s already a pawn. That’s how we got here in the first place. Reid wanted her killed and she became our pawn.”
“I just can’t sit back and do nothing. I can’t throw my badge around but I can continue to help even in my undercover capacity.”
“Let Park handle Yeong,” Trey repeated, slowly shaking his head.
“If you want out, then go.”
“Like I’m going to sneak out of the back of a van at ten o’clock on a Sunday night in the middle of a Koreatown alley and hail a cab to the federal building. I’m in. Just be careful.”
As Trey finished his sentence, a young Asian male dressed in black exited the back entrance to the restaurant. Looking up and down the narrow passage and seemingly satisfied, he turned back to the opened door, nodded, and a second male in jeans and a Hawaiian shirt walked out.
“Were those two guys with Yeong when he paid you off with the two kilos of meth the other night?”
Jake threw up his hands. “In this light they all really do look alike.”
“You’re a huge help.”
Jake grabbed a pair of binoculars and focused on the men. “Hey, Don Ho and Johnny Cash, turn around,” whispered Jake since both men had their backs to the van. Almost as if he heard, the shorter of the two men, the one in the Hawaiian shirt, Jake’s Don Ho, turned. “Yeah, that’s one of them.”
“Now what?” asked Trey.
“Get ready to move.”
Both FBI agents pulled out size XXL L’eggs knee-high stockings and pulled them down over their heads as Don Ho opened the screen door and Henry Yeong cautiously exited, evidently seeking some fresh air, as if any could be found at night in an L.A. alley.
The three chatted briefly before Yeong reached into his jacket and pulled out the Cartier gold case. Without offering either bodyguard one, the crime boss removed a cigarette, tapped it lightly on the case, and slipped it back into his jacket. Johnny Cash, the bodyguard dressed in black, whipped out a lighter and lit Yeong’s cigarette. Yeong took several long draws, blowing smoke rings into the air.
Jake and Trey could hear a phone ring and watched Don Ho reach into his back pocket for a cell phone. He answered and quickly gave the phone to Yeong, who turned away from the van and began talking while still smoking the cigarette.
Though neither agent inside the van could hear what was being said, Jake could tell Yeong was dominating the conversation. Whoever was on the other end of the call was doing a lot of listening.
Only Don Ho seemed interested in the call.
The other member of the security detail was more focused on four women standing at the far end of the alley. Dressed like they were auditioning for an Asian porn flick, the girls had his full attention.
The Korean Johnny Cash reached toward his right shoulder, where he had a pack of Marlboro Reds tucked into the rolled-up short sleeve of his shirt. He grabbed the pack and slowly removed a cigarette, placing it in his mouth. He finessed the pack with his left hand, rolling up the sleeve to hold the pack in place. Reaching into his front pants pocket he pulled out the lighter again and, after two unsuccessful attempts, managed to light the cigarette.
Yeong was still engaged in the telephone call and asking Don Ho for input. After several minutes, the crime boss handed the phone to the shorter bodyguard, who continued the conversation. Yeong tamped out his cigarette on the brick wall and walked back into the restaurant, apparently satisfied with the call and the alley fresh air.
Jake and Trey quietly exited the van and padded toward the two Korean bodyguards. Trey had his Glock 23 drawn, hanging near his right side. As the two approached, Jake nodded toward the man in black.
Trey focused on the henchman and said quietly, “Hey, man in black, Johnny Cash.”
The Asian male turned just as Trey grabbed him, flipped him back around, and threw him up against the brick wall, smashing the cigarette, which fell to the ground. With his left hand Trey grabbed the long black hair and yanked the man’s head back, restricting his breathing. The Glock now pointed at the man’s head, Trey asked, “Do I have your full attention?”
The man nodded and grunted the best he could.
Leaning into the man Trey did a cursory pat-down and discovered a Daewoo DP51 automatic lodged in the small of his back. Trey carefully removed it and slipped it in the front of his pants. “I hope you have a permit,” said Trey, knowing the answer.
At the moment his partner grabbed Johnny Cash, Jake rushed the second bodyguard and shoved him against the wall, forcing him to drop the cell phone. Jake braced the man with his left forearm planted solidly in the back of the Korean’s neck. The street thug struggled briefly but relaxed when the FBI agent whispered, “I’m not here to kill you. I want answers.”
“You have a strange way of asking questions,” said Don Ho, his face still planted in the wall but trying to identify the attackers.
Continuing to whisper, Jake said, “Tommy got killed last night. You know anything about that?”
The bodyguard struggled to shake his head but didn’t say a word.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way. I prefer easy but I’m always willing to go the extra mile. I assume you would rather wake up tomorrow breathing air instead of sucking dirt, so let me repeat the question. Did you have anything to do with Tommy’s killing?”
“Why would we kill Tommy?” mumbled the man, his face still pressed against the wall.