A/N: Warning. There is material in the following narrative that may be disturbing to less seasoned readers. The story from here, without being explicit, will not avoid some material that puts the issue of Human Trafficking and abuse of children in as much perspective as is prudent in this Fanfic format.
*I want to send out a thanks to WENN9366 for allowing me to borrow one of her characters created for her fanfic, Halls of Stone and Iron.
Since much of Part Two of this story takes place in South Korea, I have, and will continue to, research for appropriate treatment of information about South Korean culture and language. I'm a big fan of K-Pop on Netflix, so some of that may influence, for good or ill, the story. If there are any readers from South Korea or of South Korean descent who find errors, I apologize in advance. Please let me know and I will correct them.
Part Two - Chapter Three (63):
Seoul, Republic of Korea – December 1997
Enos shifted in his seat again and stretched out his legs to get the kinks out. The chairs at the National Central Bureau were probably meant to be uncomfortable. Kept anyone from outstaying their welcome. Subtlety. That had been his first takeaway from Korean culture.
A lot of firsts in the last few weeks: first time sleeping with, and waking up to (his most favorite part of the day), someone beside him every morning; first time in a foreign country (he didn't count Mexico because sometimes the Baja just seemed like an extension of California); first time interviewing for a job that wasn't in law enforcement.
Many more firsts would come before it was over...
Technically, INTERPOL was not an enforcement agency. Although INTERPOL officers helped to coordinate joint investigations, they didn't conduct their own autonomous investigations. It was an information gathering and police liaison organization - exactly what he needed to track Kate.
The computer systems were a little more sophisticated than he was used to and in the process of being upgraded again – so, if he got the job, he'd have to go through technical training along with all the other training requirements. Not exactly a first for him. Having had plenty of time on his hands the last two weeks, he'd familiarized himself with everything INTERPOL he could get his hands on. After having reinvented himself more than a few times over the last thirty years, how hard could it be? He would do it the same way he'd done it before – whatever was required.
He would have to learn more Korean. Just living with Soonie since early November had greatly increased his vocabulary. If she yelled at him now, he'd be able to catch a few more of the words. And people here are very accommodatin' to foreigners. He'd learned Spanish on the streets of L.A., at least enough to get by. The thought that he should have spent a little more time in Koreatown crossed his mind. Before they were married, when they were spending time in each other's company, Soonie had not wanted to go to any of the events or festivals. She preferred places that were less crowded, more - quiet. She never really ventured far from within the sanctuary of her cubicle at the accounting firm except for that month in New York.
This NCB office in the heart of Seoul, with its views of snow-capped mountains all around, serene gardens and ancient palaces was a long way from the farm. Made him smile to remember that he had sold a pig to buy that beat up used car when he first arrived in L.A. back in 1980. Yep! he was a long way from Los Angeles and an even longer way from Hazzard County. Thoughts like those always ended up meandering to thoughts of the cabin outside Burbank and wondering how long he and Soonie could afford to hang on to it.
She'd talked him into putting off the call to Mr. Hargrove. 'We will need somewhere to live when we come home, somewhere for Eun-kyung to play.' Soonie could probably convince him to run neckid in the streets if she put her mind to it. They had a kind of wrestling here called ssireum where the men dang near did that.
Enos was grateful that, when first arriving in Seoul, they'd found a doctor who had given Soonie a prescription that finally knocked out her cold. Then, they'd moved into a small post-war house on the outskirts of the Seoul Capital Area in the satellite city of Goyang. It was a short commute to the heart of the city where Soonie worked, but located in a less densely populated area close to Soonie's father's more traditional house – close to Gem.
Los Angeles, California – December 1997
Gordon Thomson was working late at Parker Center.
Elektra was the last person he expected to look up from his computer screen and see. She sauntered over to his desk in her high heeled lace-up boots, flouncy black lace dress, and black painted nails. For maximum effect, it looked as if she had freshly applied deep blood red lipstick. God she was hot.
Pushing down thoughts of how humiliating it had been when she turned him down flat for that date, he asked coldly, "Something I can do for you, Ms. Van Der Pelt?"
"Can we talk?" she asked with a definitive don't-give-me-any-grief quality to her voice. Letting her large tote bag fall off her shoulder, she caught it and held it in front of her with both hands.
"I'm listening."
"Actually, I have to show you something. You have a VCR in this place?"
In the screening room, Elektra, looking very much like she knew exactly what she was doing, set the playback mode to the highest resolution and fine-tuned the contrast.
The footage had been running for a few minutes, ostensibly a documentary about Life on the Serengeti, when the images fizzled and sputtered into view of a man standing in a lavishly decorated room. A young girl, hardly more than a child, was tied, hands and feet, splayed out onto a bed. She looked to be no more than twelve or thirteen.
At one point, Elektra couldn't take seeing it again and had to look away.
The man's speech was high pitched and he salivated as he spat out lewd suggestions at his screaming victim who was now flailing her body wildly, trying to escape. Removing his clothes, he started toward her and into full view of the camera lens.
Something must have caught the man's attention, because he turned to the other man in the room, now also in view of the camera, and screamed, "You stupid f***. That's the wrong f***ing tape!"
Just before the clip went black, it showed a clear view of the other man.
Thompson leaned back in the chair and said, "Holy shit!"
It was Victor Mollaret, aka Étienne Hebert.
Then, the tape pixelated into a plain of umbrella thorn trees silhouetted against the exquisite beauty of the setting sun on the Serengeti. By that time, Thompson was out of his chair, pacing up and down behind Elektra. Running his hands through his dark hair, he exposed tiny silver hairs around the temples that he swore had been achieved only recently through his association with one Enos Strate.
"How the hell did you get your hands on this?" he asked, holding down the sour taste of bile and stomach acid rising from his gut.
Elektra cleared the liquid draining into her throat and wiped the corner of her right eye.
"One of the customers at the video store brought it back saying the tape was defective and that there was missing footage, blank space. I put it on the high rez viewer so I could document the issue before I sent it back to the manufacturer. When I played the tape, there was a blip, almost like a flash, of something that seemed odd in the middle of the blank strip. So, I took it to a...private studio to see if there was something hidden, or erased, from the blank space."
"How...did you know to even look?"
"Not stupid, in case you hadn't noticed."
Clarissa Van Der Pelt was born, and grew up, in the valley, graduating summa cum laude with a double major and degrees in both Philosophy and Statistics from the University of California Berkeley. He was still trying to figure out why she was working at a video store. And she wouldn't say. The look...? That intrigued him more than put him off.
"Private studio, huh?" Thompson asked.
"Ask me no questions, blah, blah, blah..." she said without even turning to look at him.
She didn't have to. She knew his left eyebrow would be raised in that quizzical look he got when he knew people, usually the teens with whom he was working, were being evasive.
"Tommy...I know the one man is Mollaret, the guy who died in that warehouse fire. But is the other guy who I think he is?"
"If you think it's Niki Lazzaro*? Abso-frickinlutely."
Los Angeles, California – Saturday before Christmas 1997
Inez De Pina, spending a rare Saturday at home, put the phone back in the cradle on the kitchen counter and contemplated what to do next. The Korean consulate requesting an appointment to do an interview today was not the phone call she had been waiting for.
Hazzard, Georgia – Saturday before Christmas 1997
Christmas was only five days away and Daisy was helping Uncle Jesse winterize the spring vegetable garden so that they could turn their attention to holiday preparations. Uncle Jesse was beside himself with giddy abandon about having children in the house again.
It was a bit late, for winterizing the garden that is, but the weather had not been such that it required the usual late November winterizing. They'd all had other things to keep them occupied. Luke and Sophie's wedding had been a small ceremony, right there on the farm under the willow at the far end of the lane. Sophie wore a plain light blue cotton maxi-dress and Luke was dressed in his best jeans and corduroy jacket.
The most recent HazzardNet gossip making the rounds was that Rosco had been seen spending less time at the Busy Bee of late; and that his fondness for corn dogs seemed to have gone by the wayside in favor of those new sausage stuffed rolls Sarah Jane was making down to the bakery for early mornin' risers. Namely, Rosco P. Coltrane.
Bo and Annie had been spending more time together. He seemed to have conquered his fear that anyone would look at their age difference and say somethin' stupid to make her shy away from him. It was only eight years and Annie was a grown woman. Their blossoming relationship both delighted and worried Daisy at the same time. She was happy he was finally starting to get serious about his life, with all the plans he and Cooter were making to go into business together and all. But Annie came with baggage that Daisy wasn't real sure Bo was ready for.
Daisy was pulling out old plants to prevent any volunteers from showing up in the spring, tossing them onto the burn pile rather than into the compost heap. It was the kind of work that always kept her mind less focused on worrying and let it do a little more wool gathering.
When Sophie came out to help, Daisy gave her a pair of gloves and put her to work deep raking the end of the plot she had just cleared.
"It'll bring more of the leftover roots and sticks to the surface so they could be burned too," she explained.
She liked Sophie. Being from Missoula, Montana, the adjustment to life in Georgia had been fairly smooth but Sophie had admitted once or twice that she missed the crisp December days and snow for Christmas they would not have in Hazzard.
Sophie and Luke had been married for two weeks now. Emily, the five year old, seemed to be taking it all in stride and clearly loved Luke. Daisy thought the major adjustment would have been Luke finally settling down, but, as it turned out, it was Caleb transferring to Hazzard Elementary that had been the giant leap.
Uncle Jesse strode up next to Sophie and asked, "Sweetheart, you're gonna' git some nasty blisters if you keep holdin' the rake that way even with them gloves on. Mind if I show ya' how ta' do it so's ya' don't ruin those sweet little hands?"
"Of course not, Uncle Jesse. And thanks."
She was about to relinquish the yard rake just as a black Hyundai drove into the yard and parked in front of the house. From the garden beside the barn, they watched the driver get out and open the door for a man dressed neatly in a black three-piece suit and carrying an official looking briefcase.
By the time Bo and Annie came out of the house to see what was going on, Daisy was walking up to the car.
"You must be from the consulate."
Neither Enos nor Soonie had been sure of the etiquette for such a meeting in this demographic so Daisy put out her hand thinking she should just do what came naturally on her own turf. "I'm Daisy Duke, and this is my cousin, Bo Duke and our friend, Annie Poe."
Surprisingly, the man put his hand out and gave a semi-handshake to both Daisy and Bo. Annie had stayed on the porch.
Bowing ever so slightly, he said, "I am Jeong Hyun-seok, Consul for the Republic of Korea in your City of Atlanta." Holding out a business card to Bo, he said, "May I present my card."
Daisy whispered quickly 'both hands' to Bo as he started to take it with one.
"You know our customs," Mr. Jeong said, and with another slight bow added, "I am impressed."
"Don't be too impressed," Bo said, "we ain't much on formality around here and that's about all Enos told us the few times we talked to him in the last coupla' weeks."
"The effort is, then, more appreciated."
By the time Cooter Davenport drove his truck into the yard and jumped out of the driver's seat, Uncle Jesse and Sophie had joined the odd-looking little group in the front yard.
Cooter introduced himself in his official capacity as Congressman for Georgia District 4 and greeted Mr. Jeong with a nice bow that looked well practiced, and often used. Then, he turned to the Duke clan, at least the ones who were present.
"Hey, where's Luke?"
"He took the kids for a ride on the tractor," Sophie said, leaning on the rake she had neglected to lay down in the garden. Then, wildly, hoped it didn't make her look threatening.
"Boy, howdy, Mrs. Duke. Glad to meet the woman who finally corralled old Luke."
"Nice to meet you too, Congressman."
"My friends call me Cooter."
"You know, Mr. Jeong," Cooter said, "the Dukes here didn't expect your visit until after the New Year holiday. When my secretary in Capital City told me you were on your way out here to Hazzard today, I was real surprised."
"I beg your forgiveness, Congressman Davenport. A matter of some urgency was brought to our attention and we were instructed to move forward more swiftly with the investigation into Mr. Strate's background. The Ministry takes removal of Korean children from our country very seriously."
"Uh huh...Just so happened I was comin' in today to do some business with Bo here when I got the call." He turned to Daisy. "I'da called ahead but I thought I'd get here first."
"It's okay, Cooter."
"Come on in the house, Mr. Jeong," Uncle Jesse said. Until that moment, he had been content to let Daisy, Bo and Cooter take the lead.
As everyone else headed into the house, Daisy took Cooter's arm and leaned in to ask, "Why'd you need to be here anyway. They're just gettin' references for the custody petition."
"Well, I hadn't planned on it. I thought the consulate was gonna' send some lower level attaché to interview ya'll and just take a few notes and get some references. But this guy's like number two at the consulate, directly under the Consul General. Must be that somethin' come up that made 'em bump it up on the schedule."
"You sure you haven't been in D.C. too long, Cooter. You're getting' as skiddish as somebody else I know."
Daisy invited Mr. Jeong and Cooter to sit at the table and asked, "Can we get you something to drink? I made fresh sun tea."
"I would be 'much obliged' for some sun tea Miss Duke," Mr. Jeong said, proud of his use of local vernacular, and with the ubiquitous bow of his head, "Gamsahabnida."
She had assumed he knew what sun tea was just as he had assumed she would discern the Korean honorific for 'thank you.'
Once the formalities were out of the way and everyone had a cold glass of tea in front of them, Mr. Jeong pulled papers out of his briefcase, including a familiar looking gossip magazine in full view, with the intention of starting her interview.
"I will need to obtain statements from everyone in the household as well, Ms. Duke, and I will be conducting interviews at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Frank Strate, a sampling of residents and business owners in town, and Sheriff...mmm...Rosco Purvis Coltrane and his staff."
"Well," Uncle Jesse put his thumbs in the bib of his overalls and said, "You can talk to all of us and anybody in Hazzard and we'll tell you all you need to know about Enos Strate, 'cause we been knowin' that boy since he was born."
Jesse and Daisy had already had a discussion about why all this fuss was necessary when Enos's Mrs. was the legal guardian all signed and sealed in her brother's will.
Cooter's eyes were fixed on the magazine. At least now he had a good idea of why they had made a sudden change in schedule.
To Mr. Jeong he said, "I hope you don't mind, but since there's ongoin' criminal investigations on the state and federal level that could be compromised, I feel obliged to be present durin' all them aforementioned interviews."
A/N: It is important to remember that there is a sixteen hour difference between Eastern Standard Time in the USA and Korea Standard Time. For example: if it is 2:00 in the afternoon on December 25, 1997 in South Korea, the time is 11:00 p.m. the day before, Christmas Eve, in Hazzard, Georgia. Took me a while to wrap my head around it as well – Ya'll, I had to make a chart!
A/N – For reference: Similar to the US, the ROK is split into administrative divisions like states, counties and cities with designation for lesser populated towns and villages:
si = city
gun = county
do = province
dong = neighborhood
gu = district
eup = town
myeon = township
ri = village (tong = urban village and ban = hamlet)
I will refer in narrative to the designations in the English version but the Korean version in the chapter titles and bold headings for sections.
