Chapter 45
As promised, Taejun was discharged from the hospital after just a few nights. Taejun was perfectly mobile even with his injuries, but we celebrated our exodus from the hospital with takeout rather than risking an outing. After days of bland and lukewarm hospital food, I was overjoyed to savor the crispy, flaky batter covering the hot, juicy meat of the fried chicken we had ordered in. I almost cried tears of joy at the flavorful richness of our blissfully unhealthy meal.
And of course, the cold, refreshing beer that we could openly enjoy without being scolded for having. Sometimes, it’s just the small things in life.
Though we were back to his apartment, Taejun still told me to stay put for a while longer. That soured the mood the meal had brought on. I was getting restless and stir crazy from being cooped up for so many days already. I didn’t even have injuries like Taejun to rest on (other than my arm, but that barely counted).
“It’ll be a short time only,” Taejun assured me. “It’s just until we can close out the case. The lead you gave us was a good one. We have plenty of evidence to arrest the 7D gang’s captains and shut them down for good. But the department needs some time to do that.”
“And staying in is an easier option than sending you to Beijing,” he reminded me.
That was true. I might have told Taejun to do that, but the truth was, I really didn’t want to have to do that.
But the apartment was even smaller than the hospital that I had freely roamed when I was bored then. To make matters worse, Taejun took only one more day of rest before he, too, returned to work.
“You’re kidding me,” I said, as I watched him get ready for work that morning. Even though he’d been shot (twice!), he’d barely had a week off before going back to his apparently life threatening job.
“I’m just going to the office,” Taejun insisted. “No legwork for me. Just going to do what I can to help out with the investigation. The more people we have working on it, the faster we can finalize the 7D gang case.”
Though he had said he was going to help with the Seven Directions gang case, I knew that he wasn’t even on the primary team for that case. And I knew that he was still frustrated by the mysterious incident in Incheon.
Now that we were finally home, he’d told me a little bit about what had happened the day he was shot. He’d been sent to Incheon that day to close out his last ongoing investigation. He and his team had uncovered an extremely exclusive underground illegal weapons market. What should have been a quiet, quick raid in Incheon had turned into a shootout as the auction was attacked by an unknown militant group. The joint strike team of NIS and Special Forces had tried to stop the unknown group, but had been completely outgunned and overwhelmed.
That was the gist of it. He had refused to tell me more.
Taejun was lucky. The casualties that day had been extremely heavy. Whoever that second group was had left Taejun with heavy wounds, too… and an obsession to find out who they were.
And whoever Taejun’s boss was was apparently okay with Taejun jumping right back into work despite the fact that he should have been at home recovering. They at least had the good graces to send him home at reasonable hours though, instead of letting my workaholic brother log off whenever he pleased. Nevertheless, during the day when Taejun was at work, I was annoyed and bored that I had to stay cooped up.
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“It’s going to be a late night for me,” Taejun told me over the phone.
“What?! Why? Just do your work on your computer at home,” I said irritably.
“I can’t. I’ll be staking out and supervising an information exchange,” he replied.
“A stakeout?! Taejun-hyung, you can’t be serious,” I snapped. “How are they letting you do this?”
“I’m not crippled, Jae-yah, and I’ll be sitting in a control center. I’ll be fine,” he insisted.
“Can’t they put someone else on the job?”
“No,” Taejun said firmly. I had the feeling that that ‘no’ was not ‘no, they can’t’ but rather a ‘no, I, Baek Taejun, won’t let them’.
I was completely unable to convince him to come home instead. I had the feeling that his insistence to do so was more about his original case rather than that of the gang case, which filled me with irritation. Almost another week had passed. If Taejun really was as good an agent as everyone seemed to think he was, if he was actually working diligently on the Seven Directions gang case, it should have been closed out by now.
I was completely irritated that evening, and bored to death. Fuck Taejun, I thought. I’m going crazy stuck at home. I wanted some fresh air. A walk to the nearby Lotte Mart should be safe enough. After all, nothing had happened yet.
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I really had just intended to go to the Lotte Mart. But there was some sort of food event or festival going on outside that I hadn’t heard about. The aromas were irresistibly tantalizing and the atmosphere was infectiously cheery. I found myself walking more and more into the festival and further from the apartment. It was a nice night, temperate with a light breeze. It felt so good to finally be out and about and around people again. The street food vendors were out in full force, and I went from stall to stall, feasting with my eyes.
Maybe I should call Eunsoo out, if he wasn’t already here. I had a feeling he’d have a blast buying more snacks than he could possibly consume.
I had just pulled out my phone and was about to start texting when I noticed someone was looking at me very intently. I didn’t recognize them and they were talking on a phone, but the pointed stare they were giving me was a bit nerve wracking. Hopefully they were looking at something else.
But the moment I started texting, the guy started towards me. I looked back at him in alarm and then I recognized him. It was one of the two guys I’d seen at the warehouse that Sungmin had sent me to. Without his flashy shirt and sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattoos, I hadn’t recognized him in that first quick glance.
I didn’t have any time to react. I shoved my phone back into my pocket and ran.
He pursued me, and I heard a couple of indignant shouts as he shoved some people out of the way. He must have still been on the phone, because I heard him shout, “That little prick is running! He’s heading towards ___ Street!”
As soon as I heard him call that out, I wanted to change direction, but all the alleys were blocked off by stalls and partitions meant to keep the event neatly contained.
But neither could I turn back, because the gangster was hot on my tail. I tried my best to weave non intrusively through the thick crowd, but the guy behind me had no such reservations. I heard more screams and indignant curses as he continued to push his way through the crowd.
My only chance now was to try to lose him in the press. As we approached a particular thick cluster of people, I squeezed in, sharply veered left and stopped short, ducking behind a tall couple who gave me an odd look. A moment later, my pursuer pushed past us and I let out an exhale of relief.
Quickly I started back the way we had come, knowing that he’d soon realize that I was no longer ahead of him.
I didn’t get very far.
As I was glancing back to see where my original pursuer was, someone seized me. They clapped a hand over my mouth before I could shout anything and dragged me off behind a stall.
“Bring him here,” said the person next to him. Panic shot through me as I recognized the other guy (the smaller one) who had been at the warehouse that day. I stared and struggled to gesture at the stall vendor. He looked back at my predicament as passively as a sheep as the gangster managed to drag me behind a partition.
He threw me to the ground, but as I tried to scramble to my feet, he kicked me right in the chest and sent me tumbling again. Sharp pain flared up in my ribcage as I coughed and choked.
The smaller one, who was probably some minor boss, squatted down next to me. “Hi JJ,” he said with a malicious smile. “Told you we’d be seeing you again.”
The kick had rendered me barely able to breathe, let alone talk. Just as I had about caught my breath, the one who had caught me kicked me again. Whatever curses I was just about to say spilled out as a cry of pain instead. I retched.
“Heard you went and ratted on our Little Sungi-yah,” the man continued.
“Fuck you,” I stupidly managed to say.
The muscle guy stomped down on me and pinned me to the floor with his boot. The pressure was agonizing. I felt like he was about to break some ribs, if he hadn’t already with that first kick.
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“He said you guys were good friends,” the smaller one said as though he’d never been interrupted. “So why’d you have to go and do that for?”
I stopped struggling and feigned defeat. Hopefully the bruiser would let up a little, and I’d be able to break free and make a proper escape.
“You’ve made a damn mess of things, you really have. You owe Sungi and his father an apology,” the boss guy said. He stood up straight and took out his phone. The mention of Han Jungho bled even more fear into my veins and I couldn’t resist flinching hard. The boot on my chest pressed down threateningly.
“Han hyung-nim will be pleased to know we’ve got the guy who narced on his son,” the bruiser commented.
“Yes. Yes he will,” replied the other. He had been typing into his phone, and now he held it to his ear. “I’ll call him to let him know JJ’s coming for a visit. Keep him down until the car comes around.”
“He won’t be going anywhere,” rumbled the bruiser.
It didn’t seem like the little guy was a fighter, but at any rate, I waited until he had walked off some distance before I rolled hard away from the bruiser who had me pinned. I caught him by surprise, and he cursed as he tried to keep his footing. I snapped a kick up at his groin to help him along in his tumble and scrambled to my feet as he bellowed in anger.
But almost as soon as I got to my feet, he grabbed me by the ankle as I tried to run, and I slammed down hard onto the ground, sending another flare of agony through my ribs. I kicked back at him but even though I thought I connected pretty solidly with his head, he shook it off with a snarl.
“Dammit,” the guy on the phone swore. He rushed over but I had kicked off the other guy’s hand and scrambled back to my feet. I shoved the small guy back into his mate, who caught him and thrust him aside.
As he did so I sprinted down the alleyway.
And ran straight into a guy who clotheslined me as I came barreling out. Down again I went, but before I could scramble back up, the new guy wrapped an arm around my neck in a chokehold. Immediately, my hands flew up to grasp his arm so he couldn’t choke me out.
I tried to elbow back into the right hand man’s groin, but he stepped back, dragging me backwards. I gritted my teeth, fighting the panic of not being able to breathe and the throbbing of my choked pulse.
My feet found purchase and I planted them. But before I could twist out, the one holding me spoke.
“You damn brainless byeongsin,” the new guy swore at the original bruiser. I recognized that voice. It was Han Jungho’s favorite right hand man. “He’s just a damn kid, how did you let him get away?”
“I had it handled,” the first gangster snapped, advancing forward. I was forced to give up my footing to kick out at him before he could punch me. I caught him in the chin and his head snapped back. But I could barely put any force into the kick, and he recovered quickly. He growled and punched me in the gut.
While I was still reeling from the blow, he struck me again.
Now I was completely defenseless against the chokehold, and my vision was quickly going spotty. Jungho’s man knew what he was doing. He tightened, and the pressure was excruciating. The veins in my neck throbbed agonizingly, desperately fighting to push blood through. “Should have just come quietly,” the thug growled in my ear.
Darkness came rushing up at me.
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I slammed back into consciousness not long after. I couldn’t see anything, and in a terror, I jerked forwards but my hands were already taped together and I smacked right into something solid. I tried to heave for breath, but my mouth had also been taped shut. Panic gripped me as I fought to breathe. I felt like I couldn’t get enough air, and for a few terrifying moments, I thought I was about to die.
I screamed at myself mentally to calm down, but it was a long few minutes before my breath steadied and the mortal panic of impending doom died down. It took me another spell before I could calm down enough to try to figure out where I was.
There wasn’t anything over my head. I was just somewhere dark. I could hear and feel the vibrations of an engine, and the tiny cramped space I was in rocked and shivered. They’d put me into the trunk of a car. I was being taken somewhere.
My vision started to adjust to the darkness of my cramped little prison. My mind whirled as I tried to think of an escape plan. I looked around, taking in my surroundings. Now that I knew I was in a trunk, I knew I could escape if I could find the trunk release cable. I just had to find it.
It was already a tight fit in the trunk, so it was incredibly difficult to maneuver around but I managed to turn myself so that I was facing the side with the trunk latch. They hadn’t bothered to tie my feet together so a few sharp kicks was all it took to knock off the paneling that covered the latch mechanism. I hoped that those kicks hadn’t attracted the gangsters’ attention. I waited with bated breath. I heard some muffled commentary, but I couldn’t really make out the words. Hopefully the gangsters thought I was just trying to kick the trunk cover to try to attract attention.
I could see the cable now. I just needed to figure out how I was going to pull it.
I struggled, testing the bonds around my wrists. I could wiggle them somewhat but I doubted I’d be able to slip my hands out of them. Neither could I contort myself enough in this tight space to get my foot to reach the latch or the cable. I stared angrily at the cable just inches away from my face. Frustration welled up inside me. It was so close, so reachable, and yet I couldn’t.
I had to try. The alternative to not escaping was too terrifying to consider.
Maybe I could get this tape off my mouth. I rubbed my cheek hard against the floor of the trunk. I felt the corner stick slightly and a flicker of hope returned. My skin burned as I rubbed my face over and over against the floor, but I could feel the tape peeling back bit by bit.
Every time the car accelerated or stopped, I’d slide around inside the trunk. Every time I banged into one of the walls of the trunk, another ounce of hopelessness dropped onto me. I didn’t know where they were taking me, but I knew I was fighting against time. I had to escape before we reached our destination. I fought the mounting frustration and pressure as minutes scraped by while I barely made any progress.
But I was making progress. The skin of my cheek burned from all the friction, but the tape had peeled back from the corner of my mouth now. I pushed the tip of my tongue against my mouth and celebrated internally as I felt the tape’s bond crinkle and loosen.
Now I had a good inch or more of the tape loose. I wiggled around until I could press it against the textured paneling under me.
With one final yank, I managed to pull it almost off my mouth. I gasped. It wasn’t fully off my face, but that wasn’t important. I could open my mouth now. I gulped in air in relief. I had been getting light headed only breathing through my nose in this near airtight trunk. I took a moment to try to regain my senses before I tried for the cable.
It was hard to get a grip on that cable, and the car stopped suddenly. I didn’t, and my face slammed into the latch, dazing me slightly. I shook it off. I had to pull out this cable.
It took me a few good minutes to get a solid grip on the cable with my teeth, but try as I might I didn’t have the right leverage or angle to be able to give it a proper yank to pull it out.
I fought the frustration, and tried over and over despite the cable slipping out of my poor grip. The taste of rubber was foul, and every failed tug I could feel my teeth sinking into that rubber casing, scoring it. I continued to bump into the metal latch with every movement of the car, and my forehead was starting to feel bruised from all the little impacts.
I was so close to giving up when I felt the cable loosen slightly. Eagerly I tried it again, but the cable slipped through my teeth again with that clumsy pull. I cursed. I needed to be more methodical.
Bit by bit with gentle, measured tugs, I eased the cable looser and looser. With one final tug the cable suddenly came free and the trunk lid popped open. Before I could celebrate, a gust of wind buffeted me in the face and I was blinded by the headlights of another car that was right behind the one I was in.
The driver of that car sounded his horn when he saw the trunk fly open. With that car so close I couldn’t jump right out of the car like I had hoped. But the driver of the car I was in was sure to see the open trunk lid in his rearview.
He slammed the brakes, and with nothing to stop me, I tumbled right out. The car behind also slammed the brakes and I crashed against the grill of that car before dropping hard onto the asphalt below.
I was thankful that I hadn’t been crushed under the wheels of the car behind us, but even so, the impact dazed me. I rolled over with a groan. I wanted to lay there, but the sound of the car doors of my captors’ car opening had my eyes flying open and me scrambling to my feet. But I didn’t manage to escape. The person who stepped out of the passenger seat of the car behind was the warehouse bruiser. He grabbed me and slammed me against the hood of his car.
“Fuck, you’re a slippery little son of a bitch, aren’t you?” he snarled at me as I cursed at him and struggled to get free. With my hands restrained, all I could really do was attempt to kick at my captor ineffectually.
The telltale sound of a gun cocking quickly put an end to my resistance as I felt cold steel press against my temple.
“Last chance, kid. Don’t give us any more fucking trouble,” the man threatened. I squeezed my eyes shut as I trembled uncontrollably under his gun.
If I had known what was going to happen to me after, I would have let him shoot me right then and there.
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Our destination was Old Ansan again, but we weren’t at the warehouse. At first, coerced by the gun to my back, I came meekly enough, but that changed when I saw who was there waiting for us. Mortal fear turned my blood into ice when I saw Han Jungho, huge and menacing in the dim light.
He had his metal bat. It glintedly cruelly as Han Jungho tapped it rhythmically against his hand. Every ounce of fear I had felt that first night I had ‘met’ him flooded back into me and I planted my feet, refusing to go any more. The man dragging me struck me with his gun and I collapsed. They hauled my stunned form up to Han Jungho and threw me down onto my knees before him.
“Baek Jaehyun,” Han Jungho rumbled. That voice was deep as the ocean below us, and seemed to reverberate through every bone in my body, making me shiver uncontrollably as I stared at the splintery, worn wood of the dock.
The blunt tip of the bat tapped me under my chin and forced me to look up at Han Jungho. To my surprise, I saw Han Sungmin standing next to him. His expression was sternly neutral, but he looked pale.
“I’m disappointed,” Jungho growled. I tried to look away again but a hand seized my hair and jerked my face upwards again. I let out a groan of pain and terror, but Jungho continued nonplussed.
“I genuinely liked you, Jaehyun-ah. You were a damn resourceful kid. Damn dependable! And stupidly committed to your slummy, good for nothing family,” he said. “You would have made a good businessman. If only you’d come to work for me, Jaehyun-ah. You could have gone far with us.”
I couldn’t do anything other than quiver there like a newborn mouse in a tiger’s mouth. Jungho fancied himself a businessman? Some shit business this was. I felt quite certain that I wouldn’t be seeing tomorrow’s morning.
“Sungmin-ah thought the same too. He thought you were good friends. Weren’t you?”
When I didn’t reply I received a blow from behind that bowled me over. “He asked you a question,” snarled Jungho’s right hand man.
Unlike last time, Jungho didn’t stop him from his abuse.
“W-We were,” I huffed raggedly. Despite answering, I was again punished, this time by Jungho himself. White flashed in my vision as he brought his bat down on my head. Relatively speaking, it was a light blow, but it still knocked me down again. My head throbbed painfully.
“So why did you do it? Why did you have to go and rat to your gaesaekki fed brother? Over some damn crackwhore?”
A shot of anger managed to penetrate the mortal fear that gripped me. It wasn’t enough to get me to talk back, but I did glare upwards at Jungho.
“Ho!” he laughed. “Look at this guy! You can really see the family resemblance.” The gathered jopok laughed. “We caught ourselves a little baby Demon.”
And then he kicked me. Lines of fiery agony lit up along my jaw. I fought to keep myself from making any more than a pained grunt. But the pain gave me something to hold onto instead of the terror that had been so overwhelming before. Bit by bit, rage was overtaking it. I spat a line of bloody spit and turned back to glare at Jungho again.
If I was going to die tonight, I might as well die with as much resistance as possible.
He guffawed seeing my meager defiance. “It’s a damn shame!” Jungho bellowed. “You’ve got more grit than half the guys here! You, Jaehyun, would have made a damn fine jopok.”
“Kill me,” I growled, fighting the pain that flared up my jaw with every word. “I’d rather die than be one of you.”
“Of course, son. Of course. We’re getting there,” Jungho snapped at me.
His words should have terrified me but instead it just fuelled the mounting anger growing inside me. I struggled to my feet, but I was just seized by one of the gangsters so I couldn’t move forward. Jungho looked back at me with amusement.
“What do you want, Sungmin?” Jungho asked. “What should we take first, a hand? Or an eye?”
Sungmin’s jaw clenched. “That’s not necessary,” he mumbled.
Jungho didn’t like that answer. He struck his own son across the face. Sungmin stumbled away from his father wordlessly. “Don’t tell me you still think this gutter trash is your friend,” Jungho growled at Sungmin. “He’s your enemy now. He betrayed you. Ruined our operations. Almost got you thrown in prison!”
“Prison isn’t anything like taking a limb–”
Jungho seized Sungmin and cuffed him. I jerked forward like a rabid dog but the thugs held me back. As much as I had hated Sungmin just days ago, seeing him abused by his father like that brought up too many angry memories of my own. “Leave him alone,” I snarled.
For my efforts, I was rewarded with a cuff of my own, and the agony that flared up from my jaw overwhelmed me back into silence.
“It’s the principle of it,” Jungho growled at his son. But he let go of Sungmin and returned his attention to me. “You really are incredible,” he laughed at me. “Look at the state of you. And you’re still out here trying to stand up for Sungi.”
He punched me hard in the gut. “He doesn’t need your help,” Jungho told me as I groaned and reeled from the blow. “But your spirit really is admirable,” he said.
“So for that, I’ll give you this boon. You can go to hell in one piece.” He motioned to a lackey. I was cuffed senseless, and as I sagged dazedly, the lackey wound chains around my legs and neck.
I was dragged to the edge of the dock.
“Any last words?” Jungho’s right hand man asked me with a grin.
“Send me to hell, for all I care,” I seethed. “I’m no one. But my brother will make sure you join me there soon.”
Han Jungho and his men laughed, but Sungmin looked distressed. “Knew they were going to be good,” Jungho’s right hand man commented. Then he pushed me into the dark water below.