CHAPTER TEN
Three large tables had been blocked off in the mess hall for the team. Other Marines stared at Grayson. He was a favorite of the General and in fact, of most men in authority. But this was different.
No one recognized the men’s faces, but they recognized their bearing. The way they stood. They way they folded their arms, rippling muscles corded from wrist to shoulder. The tattoos that said, ‘don’t fuck with me’, without saying it.
Whispers at the tables made them even more curious. Moose, with all his nerves bundling together, went back to the chow line for his third plate of food. The others just laughed, shaking their heads at him. He had an appetite like Tailor and Alec, but a younger body that could take it.
Staring at the options in the line, he contemplated between roasted carrots and green beans. He knew they would both be delicious. He’d already had them but he wanted to leave plenty of room for more roast and then dessert.
“Hey, old-timer, move it along,” said a young Marine behind him.
The sound carried through the hall as the men seated with Grayson all turned and stared at the brazen kid. He thought because he was muscular, because he’d earned the right to be called ‘Marine’, he had the right to be an asshole as well.
“Should we go over there?” asked Rowe. Hunter shook his head, holding the young man in place.
“Oh, no. This will be fun to watch. Anyone have the popcorn ready?” he asked. They all took their seats, turning to see Moose slowly standing completely straight, sliding his tray of food further down the track.
“What did you say, boy?” he growled. Moose was a beast. He didn’t get that name without earning it. He was just a gnats hair below six-feet-seven and he was masterfully carved from two-hundred-and-fifty-five pounds of granite.
“Look, I get it gramps, you’re old. Just move it along. We have to eat, too.” The man grinned, laughing as he turned to his friends behind him. But when they weren’t laughing, he swallowed and turned around.
Moose was standing so close, he could feel the man’s breath on the top of his head. He reached out, gripping the younger man’s neck so tightly, he couldn’t catch a breath. He didn’t even realize his feet were off the floor.
“Okie dokie,” said Hunter standing, “time to jump in before he kills the kid.” Hunter, Striker, Gunner, and Conor walked toward him, everyone turning to look at U-Jin who was shoveling potatoes into his mouth.
“What?” he asked staring at them. “He doesn’t need anyone’s help. He is very capable.”
“Uncle U-Jin,” smiled Jennifer, “I think they want to help the young Marine not die.”
“Oh,” he nodded. “Of course.” He followed the others, wiping his mouth as he went.
“Moose, brother, let him down. You’re going to kill him,” said Conor.
“He called me an old man,” frowned Moose.
“Let him go and we’ll make him tell you that he’s sorry,” said Striker. He patted the young Marine’s head, his face now completely red. “Won’t you, boy?” He gave a small nod and Moose released him. He immediately crumpled to the floor, coughing, spitting and gagging for air.
“Well?” frowned Striker.
“S-sorry. I shouldn’t have called you old man.” Moose smiled at the young Marine picking him up from below his armpits.
“See, that wasn’t so hard,” smiled Moose. “Now, please, go ahead of me. I’m still making up my mind.”
“Oh, no sir,” said the young Marine. “We’ll wait.” A dozen heads behind him nodded.
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll wait,” came the cries.
Moose refilled his tray and went back to the table, taking a seat beside his daughter.
“Dad, that was a bit dramatic don’t you think?” she said looking up at him.
“Nope. I don’t think. He was rude and disrespectful. Someone had to teach him some manners. He’ll think before he opens his mouth next time.” She just shook her head, watching as the young man sat with the other Marines.
“Disrespectful or not, brother, we are old men,” said Gunner.
“Speak for yourselves,” said Conor. “I’m still young and spry.”
The others just laughed shaking their heads. U-Jin was never sure if something was a joke or serious. He was still learning American humor, and quite frankly, humor in general. It wasn’t something he’d been taught during assassin school.
Looking across the room, he noticed two men whispering at the door. They weren’t in uniform but they were on base which meant they worked here or were assets.
“Once we have more information about where this group is located we can make a move in that direction,” said Grayson.
“We need to know just how many men they have and how many more shipments are expected. Jennifer, if this gets worse, I’m going to plead with you to go home.
He might have a vendetta against you since you got away from him twice. ”
“I know but I need to do this,” she said in a desperate tone.
“Needing to do it and being able to do it are two different things, sweetie,” said Striker. “I know you did what you had to at that nightclub and I applaud you. But looking a man in the eyes and killing him is something very different.”
There was a loud thud as they turned toward the end of the table. U-Jin had two men by their collars, their faces ashen.
“What the fuck?” muttered Sonny.
“They will wake up soon,” he said casually. “They were speaking near the entrance and I was suspicious. They didn’t see me.”
He sat back down to eat the rest of his meal as the others stared at him, waiting for him to finish the story.
“Uh, U-Jin, brother. You need to finish this little story telling session.”
“Oh. Yes. They were talking about Jennifer. The man, Kyle, has put out a reward for her. Twenty-five thousand dollars. That is a lot of money to these men.” One of the men began to regain consciousness and slumped to the floor, holding his head. “The oxygen will return in a moment.”
“Wh-what the fuck? What happened?” he stammered.
“I believe you were telling your friend that someone wants this woman desperately,” said Kai.
“So. So, what! She’s worth a lot of money and they’ll pay,” he said.
“Why are you on this base?” asked Grayson.
“I-I deliver laundry every day. I sometimes get asked questions,” he said. He realized the moment he said it that he’d made a grave error.
“Questions?” frowned Jethro. Jethro was just an Alabama country boy with muscles built from working on a farm, tossing hay bales and riding horses. He didn’t need a weight room. Just point him to something heavy and he’d make it work.
“Look, I need the money. This job doesn’t pay enough.”
“Neither does death,” said Striker.
When the second man stirred, he tried to run, knowing that he wouldn’t live long. Taking their cell phones, U-Jin opened them both in seconds, finding the messages that were sent through a remote server and unknown e-mail address.
“I’ll send these home,” said U-Jin taking a bite of the brownie on his plate. “You take them to the trash. Men who harm my niece do not deserve to live.”
“We’ll take him, sir,” said Kai.
“No,” said Moose. “These men will need to permanently be taken to the trash. You don’t need that on your head right now. We’ve got it.” They watched in awe as Moose and Striker took the two locals out of the building, returning faster than should have been humanly possible.
Kai looked at Grayson and smiled.
“That’s so fucking cool. Please give me a letter of reference when I get out of the Corps.” Grayson laughed, nodding his head. He turned to Jennifer.
“Honey, this changes everything. You’ve got a price on your head now,” he said calmly. She stood, wiping her mouth and lifted the plate to carry it to the bin.
“It changes nothing. I’m staying.”