Chapter 25
"He who returns from a journey
is not the same as he who left."
Chinese Proverb
December 1997 - Los Angeles
Gordon Thomson was working late at Parker Center, and Elektra was the last person he expected to see when he looked up from his computer screen. She sauntered over to his desk in her high-pumped lace-up boots, flouncy black lace dress, and black painted nails. For maximum effect, 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 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 the camera's view, 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 to document the issue before I sent it back to the manufacturer. When I played the tape, there was a blip. It was 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." 26
Saturday, December 20, 1997 - Seoul, Republic of Korea
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 strictly law enforcement. (He didn't count any of the times he'd taken odd jobs when Boss or Rosco fired then were forced to rehire him.)
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 operate autonomously. 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 previous 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 significantly increased his vocabulary. And, as he'd already discovered, most people in South Korea are very accommodating to foreigners. He'd learned Spanish on the streets of LA. 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 attend any events or festivals. She preferred places that were less crowded, more - intimate. She never really ventured far from within the sanctuary of her cubicle at the accounting firm except for that month in New York.
The NCB office in Seoul's heart, with its views of snow-capped mountains, 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 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 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 they'd found a doctor in Seoul who gave 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 town of Goyang. It was a short commute to the heart of Seoul where Soonie worked but located in a less densely populated area close to Soonie's father's more traditional house – close to Gem.
Saturday, December 20, 1997 – Hazzard, the Duke farm
Christmas was a mere five days away, and Daisy was helping Uncle Jesse winterize the spring vegetable garden so 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, but the weather had not been such that it required the usual 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 a corduroy jacket.
The most recent HazzardNet gossip making the rounds was about Rosco. The rumor was that he'd been 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 at 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 Bo 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 woolgathering.
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," she explained.
She liked Sophie. Being from Missoula, Montana, the adjustment to life in Georgia had been reasonably smooth. Still, 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 to 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 rake when a shiny black Hyundai 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, Daisy had walked up to the car.
"You must be from the consulate," she said.
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're not 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 Dukes, 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 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 the 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'd 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' came up that made um bump it up on the schedule."
"You sure you haven't been in D.C. too long already, Cooter. You're gettin' as skittery 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 word 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, intending to start 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...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 discussed 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 schedule change.
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."
Saturday, December 20, 1997 - Goyang-si, Republic of Korea
Enos exited the train at Wondang Station and turned the collar of his overcoat up against the cold that hit him when he stepped off the car and tucked a package under his arm. The walk home took him only a little out of the way through Ilsan Lake Park. There were more people, some of them tourists, in the park than he'd expected, considering the weather. He met a couple from Germany who spoke English but almost no Korean and asked for directions to the lotus ponds and pagodas.
"I've only been living here for about a month, but I think you're gonna' find it thataway," he said, pointing in the direction of the walking path.
The park had only been open for a couple of years and covered more than 275 acres. According to Mizz Baek, the park was something they shouldn't miss seeing with Gem come Spring. The custody process would take at least that long and they had no timetable for the formal adoption proceedings.
The weather report, which he could get in English, had predicted light snow by early evening, but he needed some time before going home to Soonie. They'd already had to live through the awful stories once. Having it crop up as a stumbling block to gainful employment with Interpol would not sit well. Why should it? Wasn't sitting well with him either.
At least they had been able to register the counter-petition for sole custody of Gem. Both still recovering, Soonie from her cold, him from the jet lag, they had appeared before the Ministry of Health, Welfare, and Family Affairs on November 28, just ahead of the deadline. The immigration attorney Soonie's uncle had engaged on their behalf had pled their case, in Korean of course, which Soonie had to translate for him. They had walked away with a ruling from the court. Although Gem would continue to live in Mr. Mun's house and remain in his care, the court had agreed to review the additional petition for visitation rights until the custody case could be settled. A ministry social worker had paid calls on them several times over the past two weeks, but they'd still not been granted permission to see Gem.
Laying down the box he'd been carrying beside him, Enos sat down on the stone steps and put his head in his hands. Soonie had tried to hide her concern that everything that happened in LA might follow them to Korea. Considering it might be holding up his application to Interpol, he was afraid the negative press about him might be the reason for the delay in visitation rights. She was emotional enough these days without having to deal with that again.
When Enos arrived home, Soonie was standing at the window in an off-white poofy looking slip that flared out around her ankles. In the dark, silhouetted against the whitish backdrop, she watched the falling snow make soft shawls on the branches of fruit-heavy persimmon trees that lined the street. He put the package next to the traditional Korean dress she had laid out on the bed and wrapped his arms gently around her waist, careful not to squeeze too tightly.
"I will not break, you know," she said.
"I know...just want to be careful, considerin' what the doc said."
"I will be fine," she whispered. "Many women have babies when they are thirty-six."
He kissed her bare shoulder then nuzzled his face into her neck.
"I love you," he whispered.
"I love you too," she said and put her hands over his, which were still hovering protectively over her mid-section.
"I was talkin' to the baby."
She laughed with a lightness he had missed the last month or so. She gave him a soft kiss which he, pulling her into him, turned into a deeper one. They never wasted precious moments like these - something to hold on to in the days that neither spoke of, but both knew were ahead.
Reluctantly, they let the moment pass into the memory vault. Then, she spied the box on the bed.
"What have you brought home?"
"I bought the prettiest little ole' doll at the Namdaemun Market. She's wearin' a dress sort of like that one," he pointed to the chima-jeogori on the bed, "with a kind of flower do-dad in her hair." He took the top off the box to show her. "Looks a little like Gem from her picture and kind of what I thought you mighta' looked like when you were a little girl. The lady at the shop tried to get me to buy a Korean Barbie Doll®, but I liked this one with the drum."
She smiled. "The flower do-dad is called a tteoljam, from the Joseon Dynasty. Like this one." From the vanity next to the window, she picked up the six-petal embroidered broach that had been sewn to a headband and showed it to him. "And the drum is called a pungmulbuk."
"Not gonna' try to say that three times fast. Havin' enough trouble with 'thank you.' Don't think my backwoods tongue is equipped for Korean." He'd told her more than once that he was afraid his Blue Ridge accent speaking Korean words might insult her ancestors.
"That is nonsense. You have been doing well with your Korean lessons. I heard you speaking with the delivery man yesterday."
"He was just bein' polite. Like most everybody else here - takin' pity on the foreigner. Smells good in here. We havin' somethin' special for dinner?"
"I made bulgogi."
He licked his lips. "Um-um. You know, Mrs. Strate, I think I'm gonna' keep you."
"I certainly hope so, since it is a little late to throw me back now."
Tomorrow, since the baby was due in mid-August, they would be marrying again, this time under Korean law in a traditional Korean ceremony where he would be meeting some of her relatives – the ones who were still speaking to her, that is. Not wanting to spoil the mood, even if it was only a temporary hold on the outside world, he put off telling her about his day until after dinner.
Saturday, December 20, 1997 - Los Angeles
Thompson planned to duck out of the unit Christmas Party early but not until he could get a word with De Pina, and managed to corner her by insinuating himself into her conversation with Mike Radakovich.
"Inez. Can I talk to you?" He had tried to broach the subject earlier that day, but she had put him off.
"Not really the time for shop talk, Thompson. Save it for Monday."
"Really? Since when did you not want to talk shop? I want to know what happened to my report about the Atlanta connection." Thompson had done a lot of work with the follow up on Lazzaro and his operation and in a very short time.
"Your report's gone to Major Crimes. They'll handle it from here. You have your own cases to work, the ones you're assigned to. I suggest you concentrate on those."
There had never been much love lost between him and Inez De Pina, even after everything that went down in November. But he'd come to respect her and thought that she had at least gained some small measure of respect for him. They seemed to have started backsliding since Strate left, and he was at a loss to understand why. Not wanting to call undue attention to that fact, he left without getting any satisfactory answers and feeling like there was something wrong with this picture.
Unable, or unwilling, to resist, he thought that he might as well get it over with. Risking more rejection, he headed for Elektra's apartment in Santa Monica.
"Don't worry," he said, leaning with his outstretched arm on the door frame, "I'm not here to embarrass myself by asking you out again. I just need to run something by you."
"You sure give up easy," Elektra said under her breath as she ushered him into the efficiency bungalow.
"What?"
"Nothing. What did you want to run by me?"
Saturday, December 20, 1997 - Hazzard
Even though the sun was high in the sky, a cold wind was blowing through Hazzard County, rustling the few remaining brownish leaves off the sweet gum and maple trees. November might have been uncharacteristically warmer, but Hazzard was set to be in for a wet, cold winter, in more ways than one.
Cooter stared out the window of the Duke living room. For the casual observer, everything seemed normal. Well, as normal as things got in Hazzard anyway. Watching Bo follow Annie into the open field, he crossed his arms and shook his head. Had Consul Jeong intended to leave a bucketload of cow patties in his wake, he couldn't have done a better job of it. The poor man was sitting at the kitchen table as perplexed as anyone, bowing and apologizing. His attempt to convince Jesse Duke that the South Korean government took no stock in the night soil in that magazine and that his only mission was to assure a safe and honorable home could be provided for four-year-old Mun Eun-kyung.
What a mess.
And he couldn't do anything about it. His hands were trussed up like a Thanksgivin' turkey. Cooter Davenport might have been able to tell them what he knew. Still, Congressman Davenport was sitting on information he couldn't share with anyone outside the FBI and GBI - information that had now extended the scope of several investigations and brought them home to Georgia. The fact that Niki Lazarro was involved complicated everything.
The confidential FBI report had arrived on his desk three days ago. Major Crime units of the Los Angeles, San Diego, and San Francisco Police Departments, as well as the Los Angeles County Sheriff's office and detectives specializing in human trafficking, had established connections between the Atlanta based criminal operation of Niki Lazzaro and at least five open cases in California: the murder of a foreign national on American soil (Radmila Kozlova, whose body could still not be released to her relatives in Belarus), robberies of five video stores in Los Angeles, the attack on an LAPD detective (one Enos Strate), the disappearance of Kate Broussard, and the death of Étienne Hebert (aka victor Mollaret).
"Niki "The Lizard" Lazzaro was the untouchable nexus of one of Atlanta's most prolific human trafficking organizations. [In the 1980s] he protected himself from prosecution by an army of loosely affiliated associations and, so far, each one had led to a dead end. Sometimes literally." 27
Following a raid in late 1986, Lazzaro had been underground for a while, until he resurfaced in 1988, still legally untouchable. Knowing that criminal activity was taking place was easier than finding solid proof that would stick to the wall.
The FBI had literally, and officially, made a federal case out of it. Now the Georgia Bureau of Investigation was also actively working on the case. This time, they were going after Lazzaro, and his various operations, with everything they could. The connections to cases involving the trafficking in California of human beings from countries other than the US put the investigation on an international scale.
And good ole Enos was smack dab in the middle of it.
References:
(26) Character created by WENN9366 for her DOH fan fic, Halls of Stone and Iron…used here with her prior permission - thanks so much!
(27) Direct quote from DOH fan fic Halls of Stone and Iron by WENN9366, used with her prior permission