CHAPTER I

HAUNTED

The sound of gunfire filled the air as gunshot after gunshot was exchanged. On both sides, the drug agents and the INTERPOL Operatives, were the wounded; a few thugs lay quite dead.

A bullet whizzed past Jet's ear, missing it by a few inches as she ran for cover. She locked eyes with her husband, Kent, and he nodded in understanding.

Bang! Kent fired at their pursuer, and he fell in a heap.

Bang! Jet fired, but missed. She fired again, and this time, the target was hit. She fired two more shots, avoiding as much as possible the bullets being sent back her direction.

Their chief had warned the team that this could be their biggest and most dangerous mission to date. The subject of the bust is a player in the international drug cartel, with connections all across Asia. Once they take this mission down, the chief had said, they could already rest easy. And so, after months of infiltration, they finally set up the "big raid".

And now, here they are, facing the pawns, while most of the team were probably trying to get the drug lord's ass hauled to jail.

"Look out!" Jet warned a teammate, firing at the same time at the pursuer. The teammate ducked, firing back twice and giving Jet a thumbs-up. Now's not the time to be relieved, Jet thought, running for cover as the remaining men, now desperate to escape, fired aimlessly. She reloaded, rolled to the left behind some stacked crates, and fired back.

"Give up already!" Jet grumbled, as she and the rest of the team closed in on the remaining men.

The men, seeing no point in anymore resisting, dropped their guns and went on their knees in surrender. The operatives rounded them up and handcuffed them, leading them out to the waiting convos.

"Ground cleared," announced the team leader, Steve. "Phase 2. Move!" Immediately, the remaining members went to reinforce the agents closing in on the boss. As they went, Kent came up to Jet.

"Are you okay?" Kent asks, and Jet nodded.

"Yup, I'm good," she affirmed. "You?"

"You know me," he replied jokingly, and Jet had to smile at her husband's nerve; after all, he really was the best operative of their team.

"Don't be too sure," she shot back, and he grinned.

The team rushed into the main house, surrounding it in case there are some guards nearby. The team leader signaled for them to disperse. Without thinking, Kent followed Jet.

"Were we not on the same team I'd say you were stalking me," Jet grumbled as Kent shuffled behind her.

"Ha-ha," he answered. "I gotta watch your back. You're my wife, remember?"

"Uh-huh," she said. "And I should be relieved because-?"

Kent was about to answer back when they heard some gunshots coming from upstairs. Jet cursed under her breath. Of course there would be personal guards; just how many there are is what they should be worried about.

"Go! Go! Go!" ordered the team leader, and they stormed upstairs. Jet glanced sideways at Kent; his face was grim.

The door forced open, and a hail of bullets greeted them. Most of them barely made it in time, but a few unfortunate ones fell to these shots. And it dawned upon Jet: the reason why the first team took too long was they were overpowered.

And she had seen that truth.

A bullet whizzed past Jet's ear. So this was the danger chief was talking about, she thought grimly as she fired back, taking down two. He didn't say it would be this bad.

She ran into the room, ducking and rolling to dodge her attackers. Her teammates have taken refuge in some of the rooms, still firing back at the seemingly never dwindling horde of men. Several others have managed to get through to the main chamber.

Then finally...

"Mr. Shin! You are under arrest for smuggling and drug trafficking! We suggest you go with us peacefully!" Jet heard someone shout. She recognized the voice as Kent's. Her heart pounded.

"No way! Not before I kill you first," cried back another voice.

A volley of shots followed. Someone shouted. Most of the remaining team stormed inside the room. Jet felt her blood run cold.

Fearing the worst, she entered the room. And, inside, she became aware of two things.

First, there were two bodies, lying dead on the floor.

And second, one of them was her husband.

Jet awoke, sweating profusely. It's been six months and yet, everything still seemed fresh to her, like it just happened the day before. Kent, dead on the floor, lying in a pool of blood...

She shook her head to rid herself of the thought. Life must go on for her, and if she had to live life without Kent, she would, for her own sake. And for his. Jet knew that's what he would've wanted for her.

But how could she?

Jet rose from bed and stretched. Stifling a yawn, she looked at the bedside clock. Eight-thirty. She slowly approached the windows and slid the curtains open. The sunlight poured in and she shielded her eyes, looking at the street below from her condo unit. Sighing, she turned away and went out of the bedroom.

Today is like any other day, Jet mused. Same old, same old. She felt like a wound-up toy, moving on its own brainlessly, the days just whizzing past her. Everyday a routine. And why not? Nothing to live for, right? To Jet, after Kent, she was merely existing.

She checked her cellphone for new messages while making coffee. A text message from Mom, asking if she's fine. A couple of friends wondering if she had any plans for the day. Her network provider's new promos.

And a missed call from Col. Amparo.

Jet wondered why he would call. After all, she'd filed for indefinite leave, and he, as their chief, granted her that. Needed the time and therapy, he had said. Come back when she's ready.

And now this.

The coffee maker beeped, and Jet put the phone back on the table. She was halfway pouring some into her mug when her phone suddenly rang. It was the chief. Col. Amparo.

Having no choice now, jet picked up her phone. "Hello."

"Jet," the chief's crisp, clipped voice on the other line said. "How have you been lately?"

"Fine, like always." Jet sat down. "But I don't think that's why you called me. Am I right?"

"You're right," he admitted. "Jet, I think you've been away for too long already. I have a mission for you, so you have to get back."

"But you said...wait, I can't go back yet. Not now, anyway. I still need more time to..."

Amparo cut her off. "Look here, Sgt. Dema-ala. Six months is already a long time to mope. I say you should get a move on."

"Sir, I..."

"See you at the office at ten. I'll brief you there." And the line went off.

Jet sighed. He just never takes "no" for an answer, she thought.

A new mission. Just the thing to keep her distracted, he might be thinking. Jet had to smile. Maybe this is just one of the chief's little quirks to make her feel better. Oh well, it's been a while since...

She pushed away the thought, and concentrated on today's briefing. Hopefully, it can't be that bad.

"Jet! You're back!" Raine exclaimed, running towards Jet for a hug.

"Hey..." Jet greeted back weakly, enduring the hug. The other members of the team approached to welcome her.

"So, you ready or what?" Cain asks, stroking his chin out of habit.

"More like no choice," Jet answered with a shrug. Cain grinned at her.

Col. Amparo's office door suddenly opened. "Hate to break your little welcome party guys, but Jet here's wanted by the chief now," Ms. Cruz, the secretary, announced.

Jet followed her into the office. Everything looked exactly the same: the piles of folders, the empty paper cups stacked on the table, the mismatched chairs.

"Ah, Sgt. Dema-ala! You're here at last," Amparo stood and greeted her. "I see you're doing well."

Jet had to smile. How typical of him. "Not really as well as I'd like to be," she answered.

The chief let out a chuckle. "Don't worry, Jet. This mission may be what you need to get going."

"First things first, chief. Why me?"

"Why not? You need this mission, and this mission needs you." He walked up to the stack of files and pulled one out. "For this one, you need to go to Seoul."

Jet was puzzled. "Seoul? But I thought..."

"The INTERPOL brought this case to us, and since you fit the requirements—not to mention one of our best operatives—I picked you."

She shook her head in disbelief. "Okay, chief. As you say."

"Well, anyway," Amparo continued, "You must have heard of the syndicate who's smuggling drugs into the country. According to intelligence, the source is located in South Korea and in fact, a Mafia family was mentioned as involved. The Song family, known for its underworld empire, though this still needs to be proven."

Jet nodded in understanding.

"Your job now is to investigate if the Song family is indeed the one involved, or, if not, get to the root of it and find out the real mastermind." The chief paused and looked at her. "To do this, you need to be part of that empire."

"How? You said yourself they were known in the underworld. I'm a cop. And I'm here. How am I supposed to do that?" Jet wondered.

Amparo smiled. "Fortunately for us, the family heir's life is under threat, thanks to the big bosses he took on. Your task now, Sgt. Dema-ala, is to pose as that heir's bodyguard." He tossed the folder at her. "There's everything you need to know about the guy. And don't worry about your papers and credentials; your application as a bodyguard has been approved days ago. All you need to do is know the guy, and prepare for your flight, which would be tomorrow at 8 a.m."

"As in tomorrow?" Jet exclaimed, shocked.

"Indeed," the chief confirmed. "We are counting on you on this one, Jet. And believe me, you need this. Get your documents from Ms. Cruz. You are dismissed. Good day."

Jet saluted, and exited from the office. After taking the documents, she went straight home. She'll have a lot of packing to do. But then again, she mused, at least she'll be busy.

And, she hoped, busy enough to forget the pain and move on with her life.

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