'Sulit' is a Filipino word to remind people that it's worth the effort.
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"Have you caught a fish that big?" Rita motioned to the swordfish, basking in the late light of the gift shop. She was finishing with the postcards and Alex with the surfing gear. He grinned. "I've seen them that big, off the California coast. People chase 'em on these fancy rigs with electronic rods..." he shook his head. "Takes all the fun out of it. Course, I wasn't out there to fish, I-"
He paused, remembering the reason was classified. Rita shrugged, moving a sunset postcard into a nicer position. "So why bother with so much extra and tacky weight?"
Couldn't tell her that either. Alex simply rolled his eyes. "It's good luck. Now c'mon, before your mom starts to worry."
They'd only been interrupted twice by customers, so it looked like he wouldn't be stuck with this tomorrow. More time for his relaxation tapes and journal. He needed that done in time for his next appointment. Turning in blank pages had earned him a week of yoga and... group therapy. Alex cringed. Never again!
"Fishing is a weird hobby." Rita stated, making a face. "Everything smells. Why eat something that smells so bad?"
"Two words." Alex had to laughed, flipping the final tin in the air. "Deep fried." He walked over, waiting for the preteen's awe. "Visit anywhere south of Tennessee and you'll see what I'm talkin' about. Bucket list, I'm tellin' ya."
Rita however, shook her head fiercely. "You're talking about cholesterol and clogged arteries!"
Alex's expression tightened at her gall. Rita placed a hand on her hip, perfectly serious. "People your age Mr. Alex, have to watch what they eat."
"And your age needs to watch their mouth." Alex murmured. Rita gave an oddly proud giggle. "Papa would say-"
She caught herself, thought, then raised her chin. "He'd scold me a lot for saying whatever I want."
Alex watched as she remembered but didn't cry. She was moving forward, which made him happy and relieved. He smiled, flipping one of the new caps on her head- backwards. "He cared about the type of person you'll be."
Rita snapped from her memory, nodding. Alex twirled the stand, admiring her work. "Not bad. "I'd say you're good for today."
"I can put the closed sign up." Rita suggested, cap off and grabbing her schoolbag. Alex gave her a thumbs up as she left, stopping short at the counter with the evil hanger lying on it. He had purposely ignored it all afternoon; now it was time to teach it how to wear a shirt. Beside it though, was the permission slip- signed.
"I'm gonna regret this." Alex sighed heavily, picking it and the hanger up. "Rita! Hold up-"
The door opened, but instead of Rita, a gun came up under Alex's chin. His instincts flipped as he was pushed back into the shop, registering details in seconds. Two shoved their way in, both local features; but decked in tourist clothing. The tall one with a buzzcut and neck tattoos, held Rita around the shoulders. The younger gunman bore a shaved head and an overly confident stare. Confident, but inexperienced. Makes their trigger-fingers more dangerous.
Also, they carried duffels... heavy ones.
"You boys seriously robbing a gift shop?" Alex laughed stalely. Baldy pressed the nozzle against his Adam's apple. "The less you say, the better."
"Actually, my doctor encourages me to talk about my problems..."
"Tumahimik ka." Tattoo warned, shaking Rita from her backpack. "You got a phone, kid?"
"Take it easy." Alex warned, a foot forward. Baldy pushed him farther in. "Anyone in back?"
Eyes on Rita, Alex shook his head. "Listen- whatever you've got in mind, still time to walk away. Before things get too serious."
Baldy grinned at him. "If you're smart, DEA, you'll take this very seriously."
Oh, he was. They know about me... how do they plan to use it?
The duffels. Alex's stomach twisted, but Rita was his first priority. He went on playing dumb.
"Register's the only cash in the building," Alex moved his hand slowly, indicating his front pocket. "I've got maybe 1,000 pesos."
Tattoo snorted, grip loosening on Rita. "Really?"
Alex shrugged, getting their eyes on the bills from his wallet. "Sorry, I'm no Santa-"
The code word wasn't his fault; Rita had picked it out. And she responded perfectly, elbowing the tall guy's ribs. She dodged out the door as Alex knocked Baldy's gun away. Two jabs to the gut and a kick behind the knee put him down. Tattoo barreled at Alex, gun first. But Alex easily spun him around, getting the hanger across his scruffy throat. Sure he was tall, but Alex carried more weight and better balance. He cut into windpipe, sending him to his knees. He stretched an arm for his gun.
He sensed movement a second too late and fire hit his hip with the sound of gunfire. He'd ignored worse pain, but the force threw him, putting Tattoo back in control. Alex was shoved back, head smacking the counter. The immediate swelling only made him angrier. He kicked Tattoo in the kidney band and drew up to crack his jaw.
"Alex!"
His fist froze and he glanced toward the door. Some college-age woman; braided hair, nose ring, and eyes that snapped attitude. That, and she held her gun like someone who'd actually fired before. She did.
The gunwoman let Rita go and she raced over. "She waited outside. I'm sorry-"
"No, you did good." Alex smiled to assure her. She reached out, trying to hide the fact she was shaking. He looked down at his torn shirt. There was plenty of blood, but it was already stopping. "Just a graze. Nothing to worry about."
"Taking this serious yet?" the youngest punk taunted while Alex leaned on Rita to stand. Tattoo held his throat, glaring. "Really, Darna! We said in and out."
"You also said he might be hard to handle." The woman defended her position. "Now, he's not."
Oh, it'll take more than a bullet. Alex promised, steading himself on the counter. He glimpsed his watch, then Rita. "You okay?"
She huffed. "You're asking me that?"
"Shut up!" Baldy paced a moment, eyes burning. "We've got business here, DEA. Let's get to it."
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"Ulan... Ocampo." the chief sighed heavily, indicating a stout figure on the security footage. "My nephew. The other two, I can't be sure."
Ernesto closed his eyes, the complexity of the situation becoming clear. Three burglars roamed on the footage; none close to identifiable. Only that they were indeed stealing. Aviation was the nickname they used for where the department held police contraband. It was made up of numerous storage units, which added to the disguise and security of their evidence. But with this- gang?- there was no hesitation. They knew where to go and what they would find.
Ocampo paused the footage, his countenance heavy and conflicted. "My sister-in-law has often looked to me... to mentor Ulan. You all know of my brother's passing."
Ernesto nodded. The same year he'd been promoted to detective. It had been a rough year, but Ocampo had put his best face forward. A face he excelled at, especially before the people. Kai only had the hearsay about Ocampo's younger sibling. Knowing might have influenced more sympathy in her eyes.
"Ulan's college expelled him this year." Ocampo went on, adjusting his tie. "So, I took action. Tried to get him to take his future seriously."
"He toured the station." Kai recalled. Ocampo nodded. "I boasted everything- inside and out- about our operations. Telling him how rewarding it is to make a difference in our small part of the world... this included Aviation, among other things. That was three weeks ago. They robbed the exact units I- showed off."
Ernesto leaned his head into his hand, absorbing all of this.
"And we're just supposed to bail you out?" Kai demanded. "Because you didn't read your own confidentiality agreements?"
"The Mactan PD gives community tours and community workshops quite often, Detective Mendoza." Ocampo straightened, taking on some of his old authority. "We encourage an open and trusting relationship with our people."
Kai stepped up to his desk, a challenge to his excuses. "Not the secret locations of illegal drugs and murder weapons."
"I embellished a little for my family." Ocampo admitted, shoulders squared. "To try and keep Ulan from ruining his life. He is all-"
He stopped his voice from rising any further, eyes drifting to Ernesto. "This is all speculation. I need you two to confirm it... and then proceed as always. Only you two. No consultations."
Ernesto finally spoke. "If Ul- they are planning to sell these drugs..."
"We have our own knowledge and databases for that." Ocampo insisted, ripping a paper from his desk. "A list of Ulan's friends... Former Agent Walker is not to be involved, understand?"
Ernesto might've laughed at the improbability, but Ocampo's face didn't call for it. He took the list when Kai didn't. "We'll let you know when we have something."
Ocampo nodded them out. Ernesto nudged Kai to follow him out of the office. They were five steps out when she mouthed. No!
Ernesto looked down at his phone. "He said not to involve Alex. Nothing about ignoring him."
They both knew time was crucial, with a power-hungry kid wielding drugs around the island. "I'll start running down Ulan's friends."
"And we work our way out." Ernesto agreed, waiting for Alex to answer.