Chapter 21

Thursday, November 20, 1997 – Washington D.C.

The late morning weather in D.C. was drizzle mixed with light snow and a promise of more of the same later in the day. Outside Rayburn House Office Building, Enos got out of the cab first, held the umbrella over Soonie as she stepped onto the sidewalk, and repositioned her coat around her shoulders, snugging the collar over her exposed neck. Although they had both grown up in climates where the cold can chill you to the bone, they had also both been living in California for more than ten years, and the contrast seemed to be affecting Soonie more.

Enos had woken the previous morning in Los Angeles with Soonie sleeping next to him.

For most of yesterday, they pored over maps and timetables, laid out an agenda and itinerary for the next four days, gathered legal documents, and made sure their passports were up to date. Enos called to make an appointment with Cooter Davenport. They packed, made both short and long-term arrangements, and said goodbye to Mrs. Huang. Departing from Los Angeles late in the evening, they had slept only a little on the plane.

When they landed at Dulles, Enos's priority was to make an honest woman of Soonie. Not that he felt the least bit guilty. He wanted to make sure since they had already put the cart before the horse, there was a wedding band on her finger by the time they got back to their hotel room. Tomorrow morning when he woke, he would be looking into the eyes of his wife.

Since Virginia had no waiting period or blood test requirement, their first stop on the way to the Capitol was the City of Fairfax, Virginia, to apply for their marriage license and make arrangements with an officiant to perform the civil ceremony later that afternoon.

Enos and Soonie had been waiting in the tiny anteroom of the office of Georgia's District 4 Congressman Ben Davenport for about twenty minutes. His administrative assistant had them penciled in and shared with them his loss to understand how they had managed it, considering his boss's busy schedule and trying to wrap up before the Thanksgiving holidays.

Enos could hear Cooter's voice, and his distinct Georgia accent, in conversation with someone as he approached the office door. From his tiny desk, the AA gathered a couple of portfolios and a stack of messages, ready to hand to the Congressman as he passed through. When Cooter walked through the door, he paid little attention to his AA and lit up like a Christmas tree when he spotted Enos. Throwing out his right hand, he shook Enos's hand so vigorously it vibrated his whole body.

"Enos Strate, as I live and breathe. How the heck are ya'?"

"Doin' okay, Cooter. You're a sight for sore eyes too," Enos said, smiling broadly. He couldn't help letting out a high pitched hee-hee. "Hey, you look pretty good for sittin' behind a desk all day."

"Well, you know, I go to the gym now and again. What brings ya' to D.C? When Jamie here told me you said it was imperative you see me today, you coulda' knocked me over with a feather offa' Mizz Bunch's Banty rooster. I told him to clear my schedule so we could take time to visit."

"Don't have much time for visitin' Cooter. We got a lot to do and don't have a lot of time. I sure hope we're not takin' you away from somethin' important."

That's when Cooter realized Enos wasn't alone. "Course not," he said, looking back and forth between Enos and Soonie, the expression on his face a huge question mark.

"Cooter Davenport, I'd like you to meet Kyung-soon," Enos said, smiling proudly, "my wife."

Forget the question mark, Cooter was gobsmacked.

"Well, she will be by this afternoon anyway," Enos clarified.

Soonie put out her hand, and Cooter took it, still trying to make heads or tails of what he'd heard. Had the world suddenly gone topsy-turvy?

"Cooter, I'd be much obliged if we could talk now. We've got a lot goin' on the next four days and we're eatin' up daylight."

"Sure, sure..." he said, letting go of Soonie's hand, still looking much like a curious puppy seeing something shiny for the first time.

Soonie let out a tiny muffled sneeze, prompting Enos to pull a tissue out of the travel pack in his overcoat pocket.

"You think I could get her a cuppa coffee, Cooter, or maybe some hot chocolate. She's been snifflin' ever since we landed."

"Jamie, could you get us all some coffee and bring it into the office?"

Soonie held up a hand and spoke softly to Enos. "I should stay out here and let you two talk. I think I would be a distraction."

She was right, of course. She was usually a distraction for him, and it might be easier if he and Cooter talked alone. The subject of Daisy was bound to come up.

"You sure?"

"Yes. Perhaps I will explore the Capitol building. This is the first time I have been to Washington D.C."

"I don't want you wanderin' around out in this cold."

"Jamie," Cooter said, "Why don't you give...um...the future Mrs. Strate here a private tour? Take her through the underground pass, show her the Senate floor. First, make sure she gets somethin' warm to drink."

Before she left the office with the AA, Enos put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a gentle kiss on the temple. "I'll call you when we're done here. Won't take too long, then we can get somethin' to eat."

As Jamie led Soonie out the door, Cooter was still wondering if the sky was going to fall in on them any minute now and stole a quick glance out the window to see if pigs were flyin'.

In his private office, Cooter motioned for Enos to sit and then lowered himself into the chair behind his mahogany desk. Before he took the chair opposite, Enos noticed the photos on Cooter's wall. There was one of Hazzard County Garage, of Uncle Jesse, shelling peas on his front porch, and one of himself in the uniform of a Hazzard County Deputy along with Cooter, Daisy, Bo, and Luke leaning against an orange Charger. All of them were placed smack in the middle of twenty or so other framed photos of Cooter shaking hands with dignitaries and heads of state.

"How'd ya'll meet?" Cooter asked, pointing with his thumb at the closed door, "You and Gyongsun..."

Cooter had come closer than most trying to pronounce her given name. Enos chalked it up to having to relate to people from other countries. "Soonie. You can call her Soonie."

"How...where...? Do the folks back home know about...Soonie?"

"If you mean Daisy, she knows. Most of it anyway."

"I just never...I mean, it don't seem possible. I remember when..."

"Cooter, I'm real sorry. We don't have time to take a stroll down memory lane, and I need you to keep this under your hat. I'll be sendin' Daisy a letter and some other stuff, but it's important you don't share too much right now, especially what I'm about to tell you. There's other people...innocent people...I don't wanna' put them in harm's way."

"Well, you did use the word 'imperative.'" Cooter said, settling back in his leather chair and running his hand through his hair as if smoothing his thick, graying mane would make the exchange less surreal. "Okay, Enos, whad'ya need?"

Over the next hour, Enos explained what he could to Cooter, who listened in rapt attention with occasional slack-jawed interludes, to what had transpired over the past six months, up to the day he resigned from the LAPD. He did not tell him about his belief Kate was alive or his plan to find her. That was information Thompson would be sharing with the FBI on Monday, along with the complete file and detailed investigation notes he and Thompson had amassed.

"I need to find a good immigration attorney, and I need to see somebody at Interpol before the weekend. Today if possible, tomorrow at the latest, at least where it concerns Interpol. Need to get the application process goin'."

"Interpol?...You wanna' work for Interpol, here in Washington?"

"No, I want to work for Interpol at their office in Seoul."

Cooter blinked a couple of times. "As in South Korea?"

"That's the one."

Cooter blinked again and gave his head a quick shake to clear his mind and gather his thoughts. "You know it takes several months…"

"I know. So, I need to get it started now. I hate to ask for favors, Cooter, but I'm askin' anyway. Can't even promise it's gonna' be the last time."

"Enos, you may not be a constituent anymore, but you're still a neighbor and one o' the best friends I ever had. If it don't break the law or my oath as a public servant, I'll do whatever I can."

Cooter pulled out his Capitol Hill directory, found the number for the Attorney General's office, and picked up the receiver on his office phone. After he located the appropriate person, he listened to them for a couple of minutes, then made arrangements for Enos at the D.C. office of Interpol for the next day. He replaced the receiver and chewed on his bottom lip for a few seconds.

"Apparently, somebody already faxed your CV, your service record, and five references to their office. One of them was from the Mayor of Los Angeles. They were waitin' for a call..."

He waited to see if Enos was going to comment. When he didn't, Cooter asked, "Who are you...and what have you done with Enos Strate?"

"Still me, Cooter. Just all grown up and a whole lot wiser."

"Yeah, I can see that. So, why is it I think you're not tellin' me everything?"

"Someday me and you are gonna' hang our fishin' poles over Hazzard Pond and have a good long talk about it. Right now, I need you to trust me and to do somethin' for me while I'm gone."

Cooter studied Enos while he settled back into his chair and listened.

"There's gonna' be a bill comin' up before congress in the next couple years called the Victims of Trafficking and Violence Protection Act. The advocate committee in California's gonna' send you the research they been workin' on so far. I need you to sponsor it or support it and get others to support it or do whatever you folks do to get bills passed. It needs to go through. It'll pave the way for federal funding for task forces all over the country and victim services havin' to do with combattin' the domestic and international slave trade."

"So you're a lobbyist now?"

"Whatever it takes, Cooter. You in?"

"I'm familiar with the problem...and I take it you've got up close and personal experience with it?"

Enos gave him a solemn nod.

"You know I only got one more year in my elected term, right? If it's the one I been hearin' about, bills like this one take a while to get to the vote – especially if they involve a fair to middlin' chunk of the national budget. And I might not be here by the time it reaches the House."

"Then I'm hopin' you'll make sure to win the next election."

"Now, that's a bit taller order than getting' you in the door with Interpol."

"You are gonna' run again, aren't ya' Cooter? 'Cause we're countin' on you."

"Well, then, I guess it's a good thing I already planned to go for another term, ain't it?"

It was the first time Enos smiled since he'd sat down.