Kim Oh 2: Real Dangerous Job (The Kim Oh Thrillers) Read Online Free PDF Page A

do.” The sour expression remained on his girlfriend’s face. “There’s a lot of stuff you don’t think about.”
     
    Personally, I didn’t know how great an idea it was to bitch somebody out, who slept with a .357 beside him. So I just stayed quiet.
     
    When we got outside the warehouse, I wondered how we were going to load the wheelchair, with Cole aboard, into the rental van Monica had left parked at the curb. It wasn’t one of those you see people with, who have what these days are called mobility issues . With all the handy stuff like the hydraulic platform that comes cranking out of the cargo area doorway, to lift somebody in a wheelchair inside.
     
    Turned out there wasn’t any need for that. Cole motored himself along the passenger side door and yanked it open. He might have gotten a lot more gaunt since the shotgun blast to the base of his spine, but there was still plenty of strength left in his wiry muscles. He was able to reach up and grip the seat, then pull himself out of the wheelchair and wrestle himself into the van. It took a lot of gritted-teeth effort – I knew better than to offer to help – but he finally was strapping the seat belt across his chest.
     
    “All right,” he said. “Pack up the chair and let’s get moving.”
     
    Even without Cole in it, the motorized wheelchair was heavy enough that it took some doing for me to get it into the back of van. Cole adjusted the rearview mirror so he could watch me. I got it in at last, locked the wheels, then went around to the driver’s side and climbed in.
     
    “You forgot something.”
     
    With my hand on the ignition key, I looked over at him. “Like what?”
     
    “The duffel bag.” He leaned back in his seat. “Did you think we were just going for a joyride? We got work to do.”
     
    I climbed back out, went back inside the warehouse, and slung the bag’s wide canvas strap across my shoulder. It wasn’t as heavy as it could’ve been, but there was still some ominous weight clanking around in it.
     
    “There.” I started up the van’s engine. As long as we didn’t get pulled over, I figured we were good. Then again, any traffic cop who looked inside that bag, the one I’d just carried out from the warehouse and slung into the rear of the van, would probably have a heart attack, so it didn’t really matter anyway. “Where to?”
     
    Cole gave me some directions, and we headed out of town.
     
    Maybe an hour later, the van was jouncing down some narrow country lane, so cracked and rutted that the last time it had been paved must’ve been when my family had been running from General MacArthur’s troops landing at Inchon.
     
    “Where the hell are we going?” Just holding onto the steering wheel was an effort. I had to wrestle it to keep from going off into the ditch at the side of the road.
     
    “To Grandma’s house,” said Cole. “Just keep on driving.”
     
    We wound up at an abandoned rock quarry. There were trees with moss-thickened branches right up to the quarry’s ragged cliff edge. A broken chain with a beat-up metal Keep Out sign lay across the even narrower and muddier path sloping down to the bottom.
     
    “You’re kidding,” I said when Cole pointed out the windshield to the path.
     
    “Trucks used to go down and back here.” He dropped his hand to scratch beneath his jacket. “Just take it slow, and you’ll be fine.”
     
    Lurching along in first gear and riding the brake, I got the van down to the base of the quarry. The crumbling stone walls, with leafy patches rooted in the clefts, towered above us.
     
    As I was wrestling the wheelchair out, I nearly slipped in the muddy ground at the rear of the van. I just barely managed to keep it from landing on top of me, then brought it around to the passenger’s side. By now, even if Cole had asked me to help him, I wasn’t going to. I stood there with my arms folded and watched him awkwardly lower himself into the chair.
     
    “So now