"Hold it. We still have a helluva big problem," DEA Chief Tuckerman barked.
Every head turned to look at the big man. He stared everyone down and pushed back his chair. He strode to the screen and told the assistant to put up a photo of the tin building. As soon as the picture flashed up on the screen, Tuckerman pointed at the structure. "I was the one who doubted the junta's involvement because of the fact Burma's heroin wasn't on the market. This photo proves one very important thing.
This refinery is huge by heroin production standards. It could probably produce ten to twenty kilos a day. And that's just one refinery. We've seen and heard proof that there were four other almost identical facilities. Gentlemen, where the hell is the heroin these facilities produced? It appears they produced it for some time, but it hasn't showed up on the world market. Where is it?"
Thorton gave a frown and a nod to the DEA chief to show he was concerned, but he said, "The problem, Mr.
Tuckerman, is yours, not this committee's. I'm sure your colleagues will support you in any way they can."
"Bullshit!" Tuckerman said angrily. "It will be a major national security problem if that heroin shows up in the U. S."
Thorton nodded condescendingly. "Mr. Tuckerman, we are well aware of that, but as you yourself said, it is not in the U. S. It's up to you and your administration to make . Sure it does not reach here. Now if I may, I would like to adjourn this meeting. Is there any more business? No? Good day, gentlemen."
Thorton strode for the door while the other members collected their notes. Josh rose to follow the other team leaders out but felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned and faced the director of the CIA, who extended his hand.
"You did a helluva job getting your team out," Jennings said. "How about coming up to my office to talk about this Xu Kang fellow you seem to know."
Josh held his ground despite the attempts of the director's eyes to draw him in. "I'll talk to you about Sawbaw Kang, sir, but don't ask me to get involved. I won't do it."
Jennings's expression didn't change, but his voice lowered to a whisper. "What you just heard from Thorton was a facade. He's just as worried as you and I are about their government and where the dope went. He had to play it that way because of who was at the meeting. It's not over, Hawkins we're still going after the bastards any way we can. You think about that, and when you're ready you call me."
Jennings took a card from his pocket and handed it to Josh.
"I put my direct number on the back, and the operator knows to put you through night or day. Call me, Hawkins." Jennings gave Josh one last, penetrating look, then turned around and walked out.
Josh stuffed the card in his pocket and strode into the hallway, where McCoy was waiting for him. He walked up to Josh and smiled. "How'd it go with the director?"
"He laid it on pretty thick, but he's got a short memory about the last time the Agency tried to help the Burmese people."
The commander's brow furrowed. "Yeah, but maybe times have changed." He held out his hand. "Hawk, this is where we say good-bye. Your escort is waiting downstairs to take you home. Thanks again. You brought your team back, and in this business that means a lot."
Josh shook his hand. "I won't say I enjoyed it because I didn't, but thank you for your support."
McCoy handed Josh a piece of paper. "That's the phone number of the Fort Sam Houston Hospital in San Antonio.
Sergeant Major Crow is being flown there to be closer to his wife, and I'm sure he'd want to hear from you."
Josh smiled. "And I thought you were a tough guy, Buck.
If you're ever in D. C. and need a place to stay or eat, call me."
"Too dangerous for me," the CIA man said with a wink.
He slapped Josh's shoulder and walked down the hall.
Josh looked again at the address and suddenly cringed at the sound of a familiar voice.
`There you are, Colonel. I was getting worried," Glenn Grant called.
"Aw hell, not you again," he said, turning to face the approaching woman.
"It's good to see you again too. I'm still your escort, Colonel. Come on, the car's waiting outside."
Josh held up his hand. "I'm not a colonel, okay? I'm just a mister again, but don't call me that either. I'm Josh. Please call me Josh, will ya?"
"If you'll call me Glenn, and not Grant."
"Deal."
The attractive officer led Josh down the stairs and outside to the waiting staff car. She reached to open the door, but Josh blocked her hand. "Gimme a break, will ya? I'm not the president."
Josh opened his own door and got in. The second he sat down he leaned his head back and shut his eyes.
Grant got in on the other side, sat down, and motioned for the driver to go. She looked her fellow passenger over and sighed. "You look horrible, but we need to go over your cover story again. You just got back from the conference in Panama. Security was tight because of threats, and they made it almost impossible for you to call, and-"
Josh slowly opened one eye. "Grant, shut up. I'm beat, and you're giving me a headache."
"You called me Grant. We had a deal, Colonel."
"I take it back, now shut up. I don't work for the army anymore."
"Sony, but that's not true. You're still on active duty until new orders are cut. In fact, the army is trying to do you a favor. They're keeping you on active duty so that you get a full month's pay to compensate for the loss of-"
Josh opened one eye again. "Grant, you're talking again."
She gave him a frigid glare before looking to the front and folding her arms across her chest in defeat. His eyes closed and he smiled.
"Colonel, we're here."
Josh stirred and slowly opened his eyes. His door was open and Grant was standing on the curb in front of the Channel Inn, holding a package. He got out, ignoring her, and took a deep breath of home. He could smell the river, different foods from the exhaust vents of the restaurants, and even the distant fish market's unique smell of boiled crabs.
God, how he'd missed it, he thought, and started walking toward the sidewalk that would lead him to the marina. He took only two steps before he heard pumps on the sidewalk.
"What?" he barked, turning around.
She looked hurt as she held out his suitcase and the wrapped present. She dropped the suitcase and tossed him the gift box. "It's a present for Stef from Panama. I had some friends send it up. It'll help your cover." She spun around and strode back toward the staff car.
Josh sighed and yelled, "Hold it, Gran ... Glenn. Please."
She stopped and looked over her shoulder. He shrugged.
"I'm sorry. I've been an ass, and you don't deserve it.
Thanks for the present; it was very thoughtful of you. I really appreciate it."
She looked into his eyes without changing expression. A moment passed before she turned, walked straight to the car, and got in without looking back.
Josh had seen that hurt look before. Damn, he mumbled to himself. He picked up his suitcase. He got to the channel walk and couldn't help but smile. Meg was sitting on her usual bench, trying to feed the sparrows. He strolled up and winked. "How ya doin', good lookin'?"
Meg shocked him by jumping up, throwing her arms around him, and planting a big kiss right on his kisser. Backing up but holding his arm, she looked him over. "Ya look terrible. The army didn't take very good care of you. Come on, we've gotta talk."
Josh stopped her, for she was leading him up the steps of El Torito's. "Hey, I haven't seen Stef yet, and I gotta get rid of this bag, and I-"
She pulled him up the steps. "This is important. This is about Stef. She and Bob have been going out since you've been gone and-"
"Surprise!" yelled the assembled crowd.
Josh dropped the suitcase and slapped at Meg's arm, for she had reeled him in like a big fish. Stef, Bob, Charlie, his part-time employees, and all the restaurant managers rushed forward and mobbed him. Above the outside patio hung a banner that read, "WELC
OME BACK HAWK!"
After the others shook his hand, pounded his back, and told him he looked shitty, Stefne looked him up and down and shook her head. "Dad, you look-"
"Come here!" He grabbed her and hugged her tightly. Finally releasing her, he handed her the present. "For my girl.
You've put on some weight, haven't ya? Or else I'd forgotten you're a grown woman."
"Daaad. Stop it."
He put his arm around her and made the rounds to thank everybody for the party.
Bob came up, put his arm around Stefne, and handed Josh a wad of money. "Ky sends his regards. His exact words were, "Bout time you come back, need two dozen bad.
Chinese cus-ta-mer willing to pay more money.' "
Josh laughed although he felt uncomfortable seeing his assistant's arm around his daughter's shoulders. He took Bob by the arm and led him to the patio fence overlooking the channel. "You see him?" he asked in a whisper.
"Nope, but he tore up another six traps. I built more and was able to keep catching a dozen a day. Ky is serious. He says he's got a Chinese customer who doesn't even ask the price per pound. He's raised prices twice. We're gettin' another dollar a pound."
Josh eyed his big-shouldered assistant. "How'd you find out about the price hike?"
"Hell, boss, I checked. I wasn't going to let that old goat cheat us. He bitched and moaned, but he paid."
Josh's face broke into a big smile knowing he'd found the perfect son-in-law.
Stefne came over and joined them, scowling playfully.
"That's it, you two, no more business talk. Dad, Glenn made it. She's over there talking to Meg. She checked on me every day while you were in Panama and told me when you'd be back. The party was really her idea." She moved closer and wiggled her eyebrows. "Dad, I really like her.... Don't you?"
Josh rolled his eyes. "Don't push your ole man, dear.
These things take time and the right person."
Stefne turned to look at the officer, who had changed into thigh-length shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. "I don't know how you old men judge women, but I'd say she's at least a nine, maybe a nine and a half. What do you think, Bob?"
Bob gave Josh a lewd smile. "She looks like a big ten to me, boss."
Josh waved his hand at the young couple. "You two go find something to do." He headed toward Glenn, but when he saw Kelly walking up the patio steps, he changed direction and faced the unkempt man. "Don't say it, I know I look like shit. How ya doin', Kelly? Who's been carrying your ass on the courts?"
Kelly smirked, walked past him, and attacked the food.
Once he had his mouth and plate full, he looked at Josh with a scowl. "They didn't have papers in Panama? Christ, didn't you watch CNN? Josh, there's a war on the streets. Racquetball? Shit, I've been lucky to see my family six hours in the past week."
Josh moved closer. "What war?"
Kelly looked at him with genuine surprise. "You really haven't heard? Hell, we've got nineteen stiffs in the city morgue, all unsolved homicides. The Chinese have taken over the dope market. Christ, it's worse than we ever imagined. It's not just D. C., either. In New York, they had twenty-two wholesalers whacked in four days. The whole East Coast is blood alley."
Kelly set his plate down but took a burrito and walked with Josh to the patio steps. "I gotta get back to work. I just wanted to come over and get some free chow. How's about breakfast tomorrow as usual?"
"You bet. I want you to fill me in on what's gone down."
Kelly began to take the first step down but looked over his shoulder. "Ya do look like shit. Didn't the army feed ya?"
He smiled. "Good to have you back, Hawk. I missed ya." He waved his hand, stuffed the burrito in his mouth, and hurried to a waiting squad car.
Josh watched the car disappear onto Maine Avenue. As he turned around, he nearly bumped into Grant as she walked toward the steps.
She stopped and said tightly, "Don't worry. I promised Stef I'd stop by, but I'm leaving."
Josh began to step out of her way to let her pass but reached out and took her arm instead. "Look, Glenn, I'm really sorry. Coming over and checking on Stef was way beyond the call of duty, and I can't tell you what that means to me. I apologize for being an asshole. Forgive me. If you want I'll get down on my knees in front of everybody and beg."
Grant patted his arm with a cautious smile. "I forgive you.
I wouldn't want the famous Hawk to make a scene. Get some sleep, Josh. You look like you're about to drop. I'll be over tomorrow to see you-sorry, but it's my job." She winked and walked down the steps.
"Hey, wait a minute! What time? Dammit, Grant!" He saw her fling her hair back as she walked and couldn't help but smile. She had spunk; he had to give her that.
Meg came up beside him and followed his gaze. She bumped his shoulder. "She's your type, Josh, and you sure ain't getting any younger. Come on, you've got to get to bed.
You've had it, I can tell."
The pair had taken only two steps when Stefne stepped in front of them wearing a halter top with colorful bright fish sewed on almost sheer white material. She grabbed Josh, kissed his cheek, and backed up, spinning around. "I love it, Dad! I never thought you'd get me something like this."
Josh closed his open mouth-the halter top exposed more of his daughter than he'd seen since she was six. "Uhhh I thought it had more material, but ... uhh ... it looks good on you."
Meg held up her hand. "Sorry, he's had it. I'm going to walk him to the boat, but I'll be back in a little while. Save me some margaritas."
Josh hesitated. "But what about work tonight?"
Bob smiled. "No sweat, boss. I got it. Get some sleep."
Charlie, the Hogate's bar manager, stepped up and put his arm around Bob's shoulder. "You ought to see him in action, Hawk. He's got the look down cold."
Meg pulled him forward and they walked down the back steps. Reaching the wharf seconds later, Josh took a deep breath. "You smell that, Meg? There's nothing like the smell of home, is there?" She put her arm around his waist and gave him a gentle hug: "We've missed you, Josh. Nothing is the same when you're gone. Stef looks wonderful, doesn't she?"
Josh smiled and said, "Yeah, she really does. She's in love, huh?"
" 'Fraid so."
"Guess it's not so bad. I like Bob. And he likes her for the right reasons."
They reached the Lil' Darlin', and Josh sat down on the cushioned pilot seat to look at his biggest love besides Stefne. He took the old girl in with loving eyes, noting that she had been cleaned recently and even had a fresh coat of spar varnish on the upper deck. He leaned his head back and looked up at the darkening sky. "I love it here."
Meg smiled. "I know. I'm gonna get back to the party. I don't want you sitting here very long. Get some sleep. And Josh? Welcome home."
Seattle Stephen placed another bag on the scale and took a step to the right. Chigger took Stephen's place, glanced at the scale weight, and nodded. "Yep, it's good. Next. Man, I'm hungry.
How 'bout you?"
Stephen made a mark in his ledger book, as Chigger did in his. The handoff process was complete as soon as Chigger's assistant took the half-kilo bag from the scale and placed it in a large soap box. Once the box was full he would load it on a truck backed up to the loading dock.
Stephen smiled. He was used to Chigger's voracious appetite. Over the past two shipments the two men had worked night and day weighing and keeping count of the shipment's half-kilo bags with occasional breaks for purity testing. Not liking the meals served in the kitchen for the workmen, Chigger had taken it upon himself to teach Stephen about the culinary delights available at American fast-food restaurants. Just three miles from the plant was a strip full of such places, and they had been to them all several times for breakfast, lunch, dinner, late dinner, and early-morning meals.
Stephen placed another bag on the scales. "Where are we eating this time?"
Chigger cocked his head to the side in deep thought.
"How's abou
t pizza?"
"Didn't we have that for lunch?"
"Oh, yeah, okay, then Kentucky Fried Chicken, without the skins-I gotta watch my weight, y'know." He looked at the scale and nodded, and made an entry in his ledger.
His assistant picked up the bag but rolled his eyes. "Man, let's check out the steak place. I'm tired of fast food."
Chigger gave the man an evil glare to remind him who was calling the food shots. "Shut your face. We ain't got time for steaks or we'll fall behind. Right, Steve?"
Forged in Honor (1995) Page 25