“What you got for me Kim-Sang?”

Lt. Wong adjusted in his seat in a booth in the middle of Korean Grill-house. The hot plate in front of him was burning at full power, multiple slices of freshly cut and marinated meats were sizzling on the surface. Grill marks popped and cracked, flames licking up and down.

Sitting in front of him was a ram. A man with a hardened face, thick head ready to bash skulls in, and a stubborn laugh. He was busy wolfing down one cooked meat after another. It was only after he finished a full glass of Soju Beer would he continue the conversation.

“Aaaaah. That hits the spot!” Kim-Sang gasped with relief, slapping a hand to his chest with the gusto of a proud gorilla. “I’ve been running around town trying to get some answers for you. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, all gone. And don’t get me started on desserts!”

Lt. Wong shrugged with a chuckle and refilled his companion’s glass. “Hey. If you ever get tired of being a private eye, I have an opening in S.C.D. Minimum wages, you know.”

“Baaaah!” Kim-Sang slapped the idea away with a hand and a teasing scoff. “I’m done with the force, all that red tape. In the end of the day, only my work keeps me out of a retirement home. Now let me eat my fill!” Kim-Sang went back to eating for a bit. After a few more rounds of meat and settling his hunger, he took a break and sipped his Soju Beer. “Heard about the details at the hospital. Still shaken up?”

“Oh tell me about it.” Lt. Wong took a moment to brush his hands over his face as if to sweep out bad thoughts. “I haven’t done a grenade case in, what, years. God. My writings are next to scribbles. Worse, this whole case involves grenades. I guess it’s god telling me to ‘hey, start studying again scrub’.”

Kim-Sang burst a short laugh as he at his grilled meat. “Speaking of grenades. Tip of the iceberg.” The private eye wiped his mouth with a napkin before he rummaged into his coat pocket. He handed over a series of note paper torn from a notepad. Lt. Wong tried to sort them out as Kim-Sang whispered. “Grenades, flashbangs, smoke grenades, C4, AK-47, the list goes on.”

“AKs...” Lt. Wong glanced at each page, trying to put them in order. The more he read them over, the more he regretted doing so. “Kim-Sang. Are you sure you didn’t mix up someone else’s lunch order? This is enough fire power to challenge 10 police stations and walk away with left overs.”

“I had the same reaction when I found out.” Kim-Sang chuckled half-heartedly. “The shipment came in a few days ago, already picked up. Couldn’t track it from there, the Jones used a random middle man they paid off. Clean record.”

“Kim-Sang with all due respect, I just walked away from a grenade. Based on what you’re telling me, I am about to walk into a modern Vietnam War.”

“Oh stop complaining and just borrow an EOD suit for crying out loud! As if the guys you know would mind.” Kim-Sang cackled and snuck a big piece of meat into his mouth. “Also wait, there’s more.”

“Go ahead.” Lt. Wong shook his head with a smile. “Ruin my day more. At least the city is paying me to endure.”

 “I checked. Around the night Beanie Brain was arrested, some guys came into town. One by the late night ferry, and the other by car early the next morning. They came in with little luggage, but a couple of days ago I saw them picking up some bags from the lockers in a bowling alley,” Kim-Sang patted his hand to the table. “Now, my gut instinct say it wasn’t coincidence, but I got nothing to link the two incidents together. I do know for sure, these guys.” He leaned in for Lt. Wong’s ears only. “Professionals.”

Lt. Wong couldn’t help a deadpan stare. “...How professional?”

“International.” Kim-Sang plucked a piece of paper from the pile, placed it on the table next to Lt. Wong’s beer glass, and tapped it twice. “They live here right now.”

“...Kim-Sang. This hotel’s average cost is more than three months of my wages. And don’t tell me what package they took, please.” Lt. Wong sucked in the air, coughing off the smoke from the hot table. He covered his mouth to think it over, staring at the address. “I’ll have a couple of my men look into it. Anything else you can tell me?”

“These guys are ghosts. No matter how deep I look, my regular methods aren’t working.” Kim-Sang shrugged. “They’re good with what they do, is all I can say.”

Lt. Wong took steady breathes in and out between his fingers. He slid the paper off the table and stuffed it into his breast pocket. He took a sip from his beer, but didn’t put it down from his lips as he whispered. “And the mole?”

“10 out going calls around the time the officers reported in. I narrowed it down to these three.” Kim Sir pulled a series of printed A4 paper. Lt. Wong picked them up, each of them had a picture of a person in the corner. “All of them have money troubles, one way or another. Health, gambling, helping another. Name it.”

“They must be really desperate to work with bandits.” Lt. Wong shuffled through them. “I’ll get Constable Snow to check them out, he would know most them by heart.”

“Wait, wait.” Kim-Sang waved a hand, a shocked look on his face. “He’s STILL a constable? How long has he been working for?”

“Longer than you or I.”

“My, god, man.”

Lt. Wong could only shrug as he folded up the paper and slipped it into his jacket. He ate a couple of more meats, enoki and shiitake mushrooms, and downed the last of his beer. The lieutenant stood up, a small satisfied burp, and picked up his coat. “Put it on my tab.”

“No. I want to see you pay it in front of my eyes, I won’t fall for the same trick twice.” Kim-Sang laughed as he munched on some grilled mutton...then he slowed his chewing. “Ah. Lieutenant. I am not sure if this is related.”

“Hmm?” Lt. Wong paused in mid-step to look back. “Go ahead. I won’t short change you.”

“No, no. The Jones brothers, you mentioned their father was in prison right?”

“Yeah. Arrested for arson, manslaughter, assaulting officer, a long, long list. Should have two more years? I think Big Smoke was his nick name.”

“By chance, heard he is coming out in a couple of days. You know, good behaviour.”