Chapter 11
Saturday, November 1, 1997 – Los Angeles – 3:00 am
Inez looked thunderstruck when she answered the door, herded Enos into the living room, and sat him on the couch. "You look like death warmed over."
He remembered saying something.
"No. I mean you look like hell." She had felt his forehead to see if he was running a temperature. "What are you doing here? I thought you and Kay went to that overdressed Halloween shindig."
He remembered he hadn't answered but that Inez had said she would make some coffee. Was it all women, or only Inez and Kate, who thought a cup of coffee could solve everything?
Enos could hear Inez in the kitchen. At three in the morning, the sound was deafening. His head was throbbing, his nose hurt, and his eye was beginning to sting. He had no idea how he had driven there or even ringing the doorbell.
Possum on a gum bush…he was still in his tux. The bow tie was starting to strangle him, so he ripped it untied and pulled it off. While he sat on her couch, his head in the palms of his hands, he tried to make heads or tails of how his life had suddenly and inexplicably gotten so messy.
Wednesday, the 29th, the morning of the raid, was the last thing he could remember. It was only the tux and the fact that he was sitting in Inez's living room that made him think...had he lost two days?
The past two months had been the best he could remember. Slowly, he'd been able to trust himself to be alone-alone with Soonie. Together, they watched the movie he'd been avoiding for three years. Elektra, the wise girl she was, had been right. And as long as Soonie was there, everything was right with the world. Lately, he'd spent more evenings with Soonie nestled in his arms on the sofa at the cabin or her apartment. Each time, he'd stayed a little later, and it had been more difficult for him to leave.
His cases at work had made progress as well. Enos still checked on Mrs. Al-Fasi once a week to ensure she could not be subjected to any backlash because of the stabbing.
And Jane had a name - Radmila Kozlova - thanks to Gordon Thompson, who Enos had subsequently dubbed 'Eagle Eye.' Enos did love his nicknames – it was his thing. They had found a way to keep from irritating each other, at least while working together.
Six weeks ago, after Maria Flores had whittled down the thirty-three potentials to five, using the level of Iodine-131 contamination found in the reports provided by Soonie's client contacts in Ukraine. Somehow, they had managed to acquire studies conducted in Belarus. The five girls were taken from different Belarus cities or villages within the last two years. There were probably more, and he'd had to remind himself to focus on the ones they might be able to find now - alive.
When Thompson asked if he could help, Enos jumped at the offer. He was getting too close again. Reading Interpol's case files several times, Thompson spotted a single footnote on one of the missing person files about the possibility of a birthmark on the sole of her right foot. The description of Radmila had been taken from a cousin who was speaking for a grieving mother. The other four missing girls' descriptive details, given directly by their parents, were more precise. He'd sent for a DNA sample to match to their victim and received a hairbrush from the mother who, fortunately, had not been able to part with it. The process took more than two weeks to yield results – slow as molasses in January.
Investigations took an inordinate amount of time without the infrastructure and instant communication being developed at the same time they needed it. This one had netted not only a name for the victim but had identified her abductor. A BOLO was issued, and he was arrested at the airport. That led to information about a house in the suburbs being used as a distribution point for slave domestic labor, including sex workers. Enos and Thompson were ready with warrants in hand by early morning two days ago.
Wednesday, October 29, 1997 – 6:00 am
Surveillance of the residence in Hollywood Heights had identified two of the four missing teens taken from Belarus and an additional three among Interpol's photos as children missing from Ukraine. A high-risk warrant was issued covering everything but the kitchen sink. The evidence haul alone was thought to be massive enough to require a week to catalog and document.
Deciding they made a pretty decent team when they weren't sparring over method or other things, and surprising both Inez De Pina and Captain Mallory, Enos requested Thompson be included in the raid. The only point on which they had been at odds was the timing. Thompson argued that waiting would net more suspects. Enos argued there was enough in what the surveillance revealed. His priority was to rescue the victims they had identified as soon as possible with the hope of finding evidence that would lead to the rescue of more victims. Enos, who had point on the case, won the argument, and the raid was set for early Wednesday morning.
The van rolled quietly into the neighborhood, with Enos and Thompson in their Crown Vic close behind, to serve the search and seizure warrant. Several patrol cars cut off access to the streets in front of and behind the target house situated between two vacant lots.
Officers quietly warned curious residents in the few other houses on the street, who had seen the activity from behind their curtains, to shelter in place. Kate Broussard arrived with two SANEnurses from an organization specializing in helping survivors of sex trafficking and parked outside the police perimeter in an unmarked van. 14
A contingent of SWAT officers split into two snake lines. John Graves' group advanced on the front entrance, and Salvador Alvarez's moved on the back. Only a few minutes elapsed from the time the battering ram hit the front door, the flash-bang grenades were tossed in, and the suspects were subdued.
While officers cuffed three men and two women found on the first floor, Enos and Thompson, both with their Beretta M9s at a modified low-ready position, climbed the stairs behind Graves and Alverez.
The two rooms on the split-level upper landing appeared to be occupied by the missing children. Enos counted four. The stakeout team in the house across the street had identified five of the girls in the photos. Kiryla Ivanova, one of the Belarusian girls, was not there.
While the four girls were quickly removed from the rooms, Enos and Graves took the closet in one, and Thompson and the Alvarez hovered outside the closet in the other. When Graves opened the door, Enos pointed his weapon into the tiny space and found an unidentified man holding onto Kiryla as if protecting her. He looked terrified. He put his body in front of her, soundlessly, and reached out with his hands, pleading.
Thompson and the other officer came back into the room.
"Strate, we got nothing…" He had stopped short and lowered his Berreta when he saw the unfolding scene.
The man was signing the letters, 'd.o.n.t-h.u.r.t.-h.e.r.' 15
Enos signed back rapidly, 'i.t.s.-o.k.-w.e.-a.r.e.-h.e.r.e.-t.o.-h.e.l.p.'
Wednesday, October 29, 1997 – 10:03 am
The emergency room at Cedars-Sinai was busy every day of the week, but a pileup on the 101 had left Thompson waiting for treatment for his broken arm, and Enos waiting impatiently, for at least an hour already.
Enos walked into the corridor to see if he could find someone to attend to Thompson's arm and ran afoul of a nurse who herded him unceremoniously back inside receiving. "Detective Strate, you have to stay here. You've been in an accident."
"Yes, Ma'am, I know that. Nothin' wrong with my memory," he said, remembering all too well what had landed them in the emergency room.
While Kate and the nurses accompanied the children to processing, Enos and Thompson, in their Crown Vic, left the scene behind the vehicles transporting the suspects to booking. The patrol cars made it through the light, but Thompson had to stop. When the light turned green, they had nearly made it through the intersection, headed for Santa Monica Boulevard, when Thompson floored the accelerator and yelled, "Brace, brace!"
In the next half-second, they felt the impact on Thompson's side to the back-passenger door, which sent the car into a spin. Thompson tried to correct and avoid oncoming traffic at the same time. The vehicle was slammed into the curb and then into a parked car. With a broken left arm, Thompson pulled Enos, dazed from hitting his head before the airbags deployed, out of the vehicle when he smelled gas leaking from the tank and seconds before a spark ignited fumes from the gushing fuel, setting the car on fire. A news helicopter that had caught wind of the raid and followed the police vehicles was overhead by then.
"When are you gettin' some help for my partner?" Enos asked the nurse, impatiently.
"There's somebody from orthopedic on the way down for Detective Thompson. His pain meds are probably kicking in about now and should be good for another hour or so," she said, forcing Enos to sit in the chair next to Thompson's ER gurney. "I'm sure we'll be freed up by then, and you know I can't let you leave until you get some more tests and a doctor releases you. "
"X-ray people said there's nothin' wrong with my head either."
Thompson, who was feeling no pain at the moment, said, "Don't worry, his head's too thick to cause any real damage."
Enos leaned back in the chair next to Thompson's bed and wiped the exasperation off his face.
"So I've been told. Can you hold on another hour?"
"Yep, long as the meds hold out, no problem." When the nurse left, Thompson asked, "Have they told you how the other driver's doing?"
"Nurse wouldn't tell me much, just said he's in surgery. I do know his wife and kids are up in the waitin' room." Enos hit his forehead with his hand. "Holy ding-dang!"
Alarmed, Thompson rolled over slightly and asked, "What?...Owww."
"I didn't call Soonie. There were news trucks everywhere."
Enos grabbed Thompson's mobile phone from the side table and dialed Soonie's number. While he heard the phone ringing in his ear, he also heard a ring on the other side of the curtained ER stall to which he and Thompson had been relegated. Pulling back the curtain, he found Soonie standing there, arms crossed, and a phone in her right hand.
Her hair was pulled back, away from her face, into a high ponytail swirled into a neat bun, carnelian teardrops dangling from her earlobes. A string of peach-colored freshwater pearls circled her neck. She was dressed in an ivory calf-length pencil skirt, matching heels, and a tailored scoop-neck light coral top. Thompson had noticed she was pretty that night at the Bloody Bucket. She was very easy on the eyes – but definitely not in a good mood.
'Whatever Strate lacked in sophistication,' Thompson thought, 'he more than made up for in whatever the hell it was he had that attracted strong, capable women.'
De Pina, he understood. Captain Mallory had spent an hour relating their history to him. But Kay? Elektra (who he'd discovered had an IQ just under the Mensa requirements)? Kate Broussard (he was still trying to figure that one out)? And those were the ones he knew about.
"Hello, Detective Thompson. I understand I have you to thank for saving Enos's life?"
"Yes Ma'am," he said, in his best Strate impression and with a goofy pain-meds induced smile.
As much as he enjoyed the discomfort on Strate's face, Thompson was relieved when a doctor arrived, and he was moved to an exam room. While they were wheeling his gurney away, all he heard was angry Korean and almost felt sorry for Strate. Almost being the operative word.
Soonie was still pacing quietly, albeit emphatically, spouting in her native language at Enos when Inez and Captain Mallory came into the ER.
He'd heard her speak Korean on the phone with her Aunt Soon-hee, or when she was upset with a news story on the TV, or when she was playfully chastising him for sneaking food out of the pot before she could put it onto the plates. Enos could translate a little of what Soonie was saying - a word here and there. And it was mixed with enough English to understand the meaning.
Mallory said, "We can wait outside…"
"Captain Mallory, this is Kay Mun," Enos said, hoping they would not leave him to more tongue lashing. His head was throbbing, and not from the bump on his noggin.
"Pleasure to meet you Ms. Mun. Wish it was under different circumstances. I'm sorry to interrupt, but we do need to speak to Detective Strate. It won't take long."
Not wishing to embarrass Enos in front of his Captain, Soonie said, "It is fine, Captain. I would not want to interfere with police business." She turned her attention back to Enos and said quietly, "We will finish this tonight."
She said her goodbyes to Inez and Captain Mallory and left the ER.
Inez bristled at the proprietary way Kay had said, 'we will finish this tonight,' and watched her disappear into the corridor.
Wednesday, October 29, 1997 –10:17 pm
It was late when Enos was able to get to Soonie's apartment. He sat in his truck outside the complex, mulling over whether or not he should knock on her door. Considering how miffed she was that he hadn't called her, he half expected her not to answer. She had known about the raid. Hearing about the accident and the resulting police-car-in-flames on the news was what had upset her.
He keyed in the code on the entrance door and took the elevator to the fourth floor. Soonie was awake. He could hear her playing. Closing his eyes, he leaned into the door, listening to the sound of her violin as she played a piece he hadn't heard before.
While the Schindler theme had been the saddest music he'd ever heard, this was the most beautiful, as if everything he felt about her had been set to music.
Soonie answered the door in a jade, floor-length linen shift, and the same pearl necklace she had been wearing when she arrived in the ER. Silky hair flowed down her back like a waterfall, its thin strands of red highlights shimmering in the apartment's low light.
He blurted out, "I'm sorry I didn't call you, there was just so much going on...I…"
Before he could finish the sentence, she threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck.
Saturday, November 1, 1997 – Los Angeles – 3:08 am
Enos tried to hang on to the last two days but felt himself losing the thread. Then they were...gone.
Inez returned from the kitchen with a bag of frozen corn. "Peas would work better, but this is all I could find in the freezer."
Reaching out to pull his hands away from his face so she could apply them to his right eye, she saw a steady stream of blood coming from his nose and collecting around the button studs on his dress shirt. "Holy hell, E!"
With his head back, the blood was now streaming over his lips and into his mouth. He didn't seem to have noticed. Gently coaxing his head back to rest on the back of the couch and shaking her head disapprovingly, she carefully laid the frozen veggie bag across his nose and right eye and placed his hand on it.
"Now, hold that and don't move," she demanded. Once she was sure he was going to cooperate, she hurried back into the kitchen to get a clean dishtowel out of the dryer and the first aid kit from the pantry.
Too far out of it to do anything else, Enos did as he was told without protest. When she returned, he had not moved, his hand still on the bag of corn.
"What the hell happened?" she asked and removed the three top studs from the buttonholes on his shirt. His collar was soaked with his blood.
Enos's hand fell off the bag and slumped down to his side, the bag falling after it. The blood had stemmed slightly. However, the swelling around his eye and nose seemed to be blackening while she watched.
"Too bright…" he mumbled and tried to sit up.
"E, you have to stop moving around."
She picked up the bag and tried to replace it. He kept trying to shove her hand away.
"Have to find–"
"You don't have to do anything but stay right there while I get my phone to call 911. You may have a concussion."
She gave up trying to apply the frozen bag.
"There's nothin'…need to find Soo–"
"Dammit, E! Please, stop moving and stop talking," she shouted at him, angry tears welling in her eyes.
How the hell had he driven here? She climbed onto the couch and nearly straddled him, trying to keep him still, afraid to shake him or pat his face to keep him awake, afraid she would make it worse.
Because he was not in any shape to put up much resistance, she was able to hold him in place with her body and one hand and reach for the phone with her other. His eyes were fluttering by the time she dialed 911.
"No, E, you can't go to sleep. Look at me. Look. At. Me. You have to stay awake."
By the time the paramedics arrived eight minutes later, Enos was bordering on unconsciousness.
"Can you tell us how this happened?" The EMT pulled off Enos's tux jacket and started to pull his ID from the pocket.
"He's Detective Strate. I'm Detective De Pina. Both LAPD."
Inez reached down to Enos's right leg and removed the pistol from his ankle holster to check if it had been fired.
"And I don't know how this happened. He showed up at my door, dazed and with a black eye. Then ten minutes later, he's bleeding from the nose and acting like he's been concussed. I can tell you he hit his head in a car crash two days ago. Cedars didn't find any sign of concussion and released him. This is not from the accident. This is new. Had to be within the last eleven hours because he was fine when he left the station at four."
Before getting behind E's truck's wheel, Inez inspected the exterior for any signs of damage and found none, then followed the ambulance to Cedars.
References:
(14) SANE is an acronym for Sexual Assault Nurse Examiner (a forensic curse)
(15) As there is no mutual intelligibility between American Sign Language (ASL) and Russian Sign Language. The 'man in the closet' was using the alphabet only in ASL in order to communicate in English. Enos responded by signing back with alphabetic spelling because the full word signs in ASL would not be recognized. Enos took a lot of Annex Learning classes during his 10 years in L.A. - filled the time.