by Gunn, Autumn
We ran some projections before the op to estimate how the Korean, and global, underworld would shake up after the termination. We saw a simple transition of power within Kong’s group with little chance of retaliation against the U.S. The military also imposed strict curfews in the days leading up to, and after, the op. It was a simple, efficient plan that was executed to perfection with the aftermath playing out exactly as we thought. Until tonight. Until the SMS in the movie theater. Kong didn’t have a son, so there was no chance the reference to Kong in the messages pertained to his direct family. His father had already died years earlier when he tried to tangle with a bigger mafia boss over a territorial dispute.
As much as I thought about Kong, I hadn’t asked myself the bigger question. Why were the Koreans interested in Kate and Jerry? If anything they had connections to Russia or Ukraine. Korea was worlds apart. I couldn’t put the pieces together.
There were questions everywhere, but the biggest of all of them was simple. Do I trust Kate? I thought about our time together, the way I felt about her, and the way I thought she felt about me. I thought about my past, my issues with women, my issues with trust, and the combo platter and my personal demon…my trust issues with women.
That was the question that was driving everything in my life at the moment. I thought about how she made me feel when we were together. And how I felt when we were apart. There’s no denying it was night and day. My life had been flipped upside down when I was forced to leave the SEAL Teams after my injury. I wasn’t going to pout about it, but I didn’t know if something would ever bring me that much joy again. I still don’t know. It’s a particular kind of joy. What I did know was Kate was that light back in my life. She was that reason to wake up in the morning with a smile on my face. She was the reason I wanted to travel and see the world. I wanted to see it with her. We could travel alone, as lovers, and we could travel with the kids, as a perfectly imperfect family. It seemed so right. I knew I wanted it. I knew I had to have it. And I knew…I trusted Kate and was going to do everything to get her back and protect her and our kids forever.
Now what? Want to play? I’ll play. Ante up, buddy.
Ross Dock Picnic Area. 10pm.
I knew this area. It was just over the George Washington Bridge in Fort Lee, New Jersey. It offered a number of quick exit points and was in public view. It was risky meeting in such a public spot, especially on a summer evening when families might be packing up after an evening picnic. What was Kong planning? I needed to get over there this morning and take a look around without being seen. I picked up a rental car and headed to a strip mall to look for a fishing hat and some sunglasses.
I hadn’t crossed the George Washington Bridge in years. At the time it was built it was the longest main bridge span in the world, nearly double the Ambassador Bridge in Detroit. It would hold this record for six years until the picture perfect Golden Gate was completed. I always liked the thought that America could build such engineering and visual masterpieces despite being in the deepest depression of the 20th century. It’s that forward looking, pull up your sleeves no matter what attitude that I liked the most about my country. Eternal optimist we are.
Traffic flowed smoothly at 45mph. Just before I exited I put on my hat and sunglasses. I quickly found myself at Ross Dock. It was a peaceful day. Not too many people. Just a few families having an early lunch and some kids playing catch. I surveyed the area to look for possible entry and exit points, trying to visualize what Kong might be planning. Where would he have Kate and Jerry? Probably not even on site, unless he needed to draw me out. I decided I would arrive early and get in position. 1800 hours gave me four hours to setup and wait. Kong would call and I could spot him with my binos and call some shots. I definitely didn’t want to be in a defensive position. I was ready to go on offense.
I decided to head back over the bridge and book a hotel close by to rest up. I crossed the bridge and the toll operator kindly asked for fourteen dollars. Fourteen dollars? To cross a bridge? No wonder I lived in the Midwest. I’m trained in about 57 ways to blow up a bridge, but I can barely afford to cross one on my salary. Go figure. I reluctantly handed her the money and headed into New York. I took the first hotel I could find. It looked run down and without many guests. Perfect. I could get some sleep. I pulled out my travel bag and looked at the bottle. I had a prescription, but hadn’t relied on it since I was active duty. You have to get sleep when you can and sometimes you need a little help. I popped two Ambien and set my alarm for 1600. I wanted the deepest sleep I could get for the mental clarity I was going to need tonight.
Chapter 15
The alarm sounded at 1600, but I was out cold. It went for 10 minutes before my backup alarm kicked in. I shut them both off and stumbled to the kitchenette. Put the water on boil and dropped in the 12 eggs. Off to the shower. I knew the mental haze would wear off in about 30 minutes and then I’d be sharp as a tack.
I got out of the shower and a cracked the eggs and mixed them with a tomato and some salt. I ate a few handfuls of raw buckwheat in between bites of eggs. What I liked about buckwheat was that it actually wasn’t wheat in the traditional sense. It had no gluten and was lighter in my stomach than oats or barley. Protein and some carbs, but light. I was ready for whatever the night had in store.
I geared up and then went through my checklist. Hotel empty? Check. Knife in place? Check. SIG SAUER P226 Navy concealed? Check. Binos? Check. I continued on down the list until I was sure I was good-to-go. Out the door to the parking garage and back over the bridge. Thankfully no toll in this direction. I could literally feel my wallet was lighter from the last crossing.
It was rush hour, which I had planned. I was in the far right lane. I wanted a direct view of the water, both for strategizing and just to take in the beautiful view. And what a beautiful view it was. From the top deck it’s magical. There were some walkers making the trek across stopping to kiss and take selfies what seemed like every 20 feet. I’m not a big fan of being in photos myself and find the relentless pursuit of the best selfie one can get a bit odd, but I can’t say I blamed them.
I watched them continue on their way. A week ago I would have written off what they were doing as silly, now that Kate had come into my life I understood. It’s not about the photo, it’s about enjoying the company of the other person. That one special person in this world that’s meant for you and you for them. I had lost that and forgot what it felt like. Kate brought all that back and now I needed to bring her back into my life. I was ready. I knew the odds were against me, but I was confident I was going to come out on top.
I continued watching the lovebirds. They suddenly stopped, pointed to the oncoming traffic in horror and ducked. As I turned to the left I felt the spray of gunfire light up my passenger side window. I had been leaning on the center console just seconds earlier to get a better look. One more second and that position would have been fatal. I ducked out of the line of the windshield and heard the rental continue to take heavy automatic gunfire. I was expecting the action to start a little before 2200 from a position I had secured. The action was certainly early, but four hours so in a position I wasn’t expecting. I did a modified leapfrog move into the passenger seat floor space. With my big frame, I’d be a sitting duck if I didn’t take cover. I opened the passenger side door and rolled onto the concrete. I crawled to the back right fender of the car. I pulled my P226 Navy, but knew the chances of getting off a clear shot in all this traffic was nearly impossible. Cars tried to flee despite the bumper-to-bumper traffic. It was a mass confusion mess of fender benders, horns, and people abandoning their cars in favor of running for cover.
I did a turkey look just over the trunk of the car and caught sight of a Hyundai Tucson. I remembered that model as Hyundai had sponsored the NFL and throughout the course of the 16-week season I was nearly able to memorize their entire fleet. It seemed like an affordable alternative for my aging Jeep, but now my only alternative was squatting behind this rental and r
eturning fire or find myself quickly out of room as I was pinned against the side of the bridge.
I noticed the back windows were totally tinted. A sign the car was likely registered in New Jersey and not New York. No criminal would give law enforcement such an easy pass to pull them over as over tinting their windshields. New York required 70% transmission in the back. New Jersey required none.
I decided to return fire and navigate my way to the semi a few vehicles in front of me. My shots had to be dead center on the driver or passenger side with no chance of passing through and injuring a civilian. I wasn’t worried about that. I also needed to get a visual on the driver before assuming and firing. I stood and got a look at the driver. He was big, ugly, and mean looking. He looked even meaner with the automatic machine gun he was holding. I began to fire the SIG running towards the semi. I could hear only my fire so I knew the gunman or gunmen in the Hyundai had taken cover. I was less than 10 feet from making it to the 18 wheeler and then out of the corner of my right eye I noticed a high speed object coming my way. It was a hypermotard motorcycle made for navigating tight urban areas. It was coming the wrong way, but it didn’t matter. It was too late. The driver extended what felt like a pipe and hit me square. I was thrust into the pedestrian sidewalk and as I continued to flip my momentum took me over the waist high handrail. As I was spinning I knew I had to get ahold of something to stop my momentum from taking me over. I felt something hit my bicep and chicken winged my arm around the metal as my body completed its rotation. I felt my legs whip into concrete and my chest slam against metal bars. I held on as tightly as I could with my right arm. My left was hanging. I quickly realized I had caught myself on the pedestrian handrail, but momentum had flipped me completely and my body was freely hanging off the edge ready to meet the Hudson River. I tried to take a big breath and pull myself up but could feel I had cracked at least two ribs from the impact. This wasn’t going to be easy.
I gritted my teeth and pulled as hard as I could. I was making progress but not much. Then I felt three cold taps on my right elbow.
“Going somewhere, Mr. Justice? Assuming that really is your name.”
“Kong.”
“Expecting someone else?”
“You’re dead.”
“No, Justice. I’m alive. Very alive. It looks like it’s you who’s about to be dead.”
“You’re wrong. The Port Authority police will be here any second and you’ve got nowhere to go.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. See, unlike you, I plan to the end. Look for yourself.”
I was struggling to keep my chicken wing around the bar, but I could hear the spinning of the helicopter rotors above.
“I’d love to chat, but I’ve really got to be going. As do you. Let me show you how it’s done, Justice.”
Kong delivered a martial arts blow to my right arm so powerful it released it’s hold instantly. I felt my weight transfer back and knew I was I was now in free fall. My mind instantly thought of everything I could remember from parachuting to Golden Gate bridge jump survivors to cats escaping large jumps unharmed. All I knew was I had about four seconds and the position I was in at impact would determine everything.
All I could think of was cats always land on their feet. Then I remembered a salty old SEAL who told me about some jumps he made from bridges during the Vietnam war when he was being pursued. “Just remember kid, if it’s the water you’re about to meet, and you know it can’t be beat, might as well watch the show and take a seat.” It was goofy, but like many goofy things it rhymed and I remembered it. I rotated into the sitting position and tried to relax my body so my muscles and bones were not tight upon impact. Achieving zen when you’re about to smack into the Hudson at 75mph is easier said than done.
It was like I was in a dream, dropping onto the hard sidewalk from above in a lazy-boy, except there was no lazy-boy and this was no dream. I immediately felt the impact in my backside and spine. My spine working as shocks like a car going over a speed bump, but this was no speed bump and I was falling at a rate fast enough to get a ticket on most highways in the U.S. I felt my neck buckle into my body. It was like I was a chipmunk in the arcade game you play at five years old when you have to smack the chipmunks down with a mallet. Now I know how those chipmunks must have felt. The good think was my neck didn’t snap. It compacted down and not enough to snap. My entire body felt like it was inside a car wash and hit from every side. All I knew was I had to make it to the top. I tried to extend my legs to kick, but my knees didn’t move. I reached with my hands and pulled back towards my body hoping to drag myself through the water. This wasn’t going to be easy. My knees loosened a bit and I was able to execute something that resembled something of a kick. I was making progress, barely, but if the destruction on my body wasn’t enough, the complete emptying of air from my lungs caused by impact made up for it. All I could think of was how easy our SEAL drown proofing training seemed now. It was designed to prepare us for real life situations, but I think this might have exceed what even the designers of the training envisioned. I tried to stay calm to keep the muscles, that weren’t torn and bruised, as flexible as possible and to give me some extra time before I absolutely needed air.
I started to see light. I knew I just had a few more yards to go. Then a few more feet. One last push and I breached the surface. Air never tasted so good, and yes when you are deprived of it when you need it most, when you suddenly get it back it tastes oh so sweet. Then reality hit. I had a swim in front of me.
I started to swim and quickly realized the whirlpool currents were conflicting and moving in opposite directions. If surviving the fall wasn’t enough now I had to navigate the equivalent of a landmine of underwater washing machines spinning in all directions., each opting to fickly change direction as they saw fit.
It didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to give up. If there was every an appropriate time to use two steps forward and one step back this wasn’t it. It was more like one inch forward and two leaps back. At this point I realized my best option would be to conserve energy and hope for the Port Authority Police Emergency Services Unit and Harbor Patrol. I could feel myself being thrown around like a rag doll. I was doing the best I could to avoid being sucked under. Trying to use the currents to navigate my way out would be useless. This was a maze with no exit. Fortunately the keepers of the key arrived just in time. I saw some of New York and New Jersey’s finest headed my way. I love nothing more than swimming, I am a SEAL after all, but this afternoon I appreciated nothing more than the lifeguard telling me my time in the water was over. They pulled me inside the boat.
“Sir, are you OK? Can you hear us?”
“I’m OK. Thanks for coming for me.”
“Is anything broken?”
“My ribs. Maybe my right forearm.”
“Sir, you’re a miracle.”
“As are you.”
“Our first survivor in six years.”
Another man spoke up. “Yeah, but he was a Naval Academy star. Water polo guy. You did it as a civilian.”
I didn’t say anything.
“We’re going to take you to St. Vincent’s. They’re going to make sure you’re OK.”
“Thank you.”
I wasn’t in the mood or position to argue. I needed to get to dry land and refocus on getting Kate and Jerry to safety, and bring Kong to justice…and that just got a whole lot more difficult.
Chapter 16
“It’s really a miracle that you survived, son.”
The doctor looked to be pushing 90 years old. I don’t think he ever got the memo about political correctness, but I didn’t mind.
“What in the world made you jump? Problems with the ladies?”
“I’ve got some of those, but I can’t really explain how I wound up in the Hudson.” I wasn’t about to tell him what I was caught up in as I’d be taken in for questioning quicker than the fall I just experienced.
“Well, a good looking young guy like yourself
has got a lot to look forward to in life. Don’t be doing anything stupid and get yourself killed.”
“Yes, sir.”
He turned and opened the door. As he walked out the door I could here him under his breath. “Kids these days. What’s gotten into them?”