“Guess who our buddy works for. Athanasia Laboratories.”
“Could they be more obvious?”
“Well, it’s a bit more convoluted than that,” Minho gave a lopsided shrug as he hissed air between his teeth, his hands occupied with peeling back some of the wrapper blocking him from eating up his ice cream sandwich bar. Half devoured, he continued chomping bites from the delicious treat as if the cold radiating off of it against the pleasant autumn breeze was nothing to him, “The guy was a security guard for a private company, private company gets a strange call, what do you know! Now he’s doing dirty work for someone who claims to be an independent company. He’s not related to them necessarily.”
It had been a fairly easy day. A rainy, autumn day with cloudcast that broke apart in the afternoon. His classes were occupied with group discussions and group assigments for their newest chapter of Brave New World, he didn’t have to do too much teaching and had the chance to chat with his kids about various subjects while they worked, non of the other staff gave him any hassle for opening his windows when the kids said it was too stuffy in the classroom, his principal was absent, the only regretful part was he didn’t get to eat his lunch. His perfectly wrapped bulgogi, japchae, and rice ball meal he stressed himself over the prior night to get perfect. Then after work, the cryptic text message he was sent on his burner phone to meet up at the local park closest to his station. The fast trudge there with his backpack filled with his teaching responsibilities.
And the man that waited for him on one of the wooden benches, sitting underneath a welcoming tree that shielded them from the afternoon sunlight.
The park itself was relatively quiet aside from them. The locals usually didn’t roam around the wide patches of grass here or sit back on one of the scattered seating areas to enjoy the blinding grins from the sunshine reflecting off the peaks of the pond’s waters. Occasionally, a jogger would pass by them with a wave, or a group of students would go to sit on the benches nearby to chat over phone games, or people and couples came to play fetch with their dogs, even the ducks that swam by atop the river chattering to one another with their horned bills, lively yet peaceful. Peaceful enough that they wouldn’t be disturbed. And more importantly, Jisung got to eat his forsaken lunch. Quelling the wrath of starvation in his stomach nauseating him bit by bit as they talked, “How did you find this out?”
“I didn’t. I just searched online for a while and made the guess because of what I found,” Minho offered up another one of those uneven, lopsided shrugs as if wires were hooked to his shoulders that couldn’t seem to sync up with one another fully. He finished off the last of his ice cream, lazily crumpling the remaining shreds of the wrapped he tore into before, the clump he created with the waxy paper discarded to the side of the bench to be forgotten about, “I doubt I’m too far off. Do you think the reason they sent him was to finish the job? But why, when they’ve already placed open hits on his head to professional hitmen? Otherwise, is it possible they’re responsible for his kidnapping? And the person they sent was meant to clean up the tracks if anyone came looking for him?”
It seems strange to me that they would set a hit on Changbin and proceed to kidnap him.
A slow nod occupied Jisung as he pinched another clump of japchae noodles between his chopsticks and shoved the squishy meal to store into his cheek. Gradually chewing away at the delicious flavors on his tongue to distract him from the mundanity of a normal life passing by in front of his hazy eyes. These days it seemed harder to stay inside of his own mind.
But their involvement is the only lead we have to start with, isn’t it?
Attempting to ground himself from wandering too far off into the fog hovering over his thoughts, he picked methodically at the japchae. Pushing aside the noodles to find the slices of red bell pepper inside of the oily clump. Pinching the pieces, collecting them up off to the side of the japchae as he counted up the red bell pepper pieces. He’s sure he could feel the other’s gaze drilling onto him, drilling through him, drilling past him as if he wasn’t sitting beside him at all, yet Jisung didn’t pay it any mind as he stacked up his strips of bell pepper to the side. Bland, bland, bland, it tastes the same as it did yesterday, “There’s a research headquarters for Athanasia Laboratories in this city, isn’t there?”
In the corner of his eye, he saw that Minho nodded, “One of the main ones.”
“Could we go see it?” Half finished and devoid of an appetite that vanished amongst the picked apart pile of japchae, Jisung closed up his lunch box. Snapping the thin plastic container close, moving aside the water bottle and his copy of Brave New World, he slipped the lunch inside his backpack before standing up from the bench.
While he busied himself to sling the bag over his shoulder, Minho slumped further into the bench supporting from laying entirely on the ground of that serene public park. If it wasn’t for him. Or for the bounty hunter existing there. But if it was only the runners, only the man in the distance on the lush green grass playing fetch with a fluffy black dog, only for the turtles in the pond or the kids passing by, then a serenity would’ve befallen the stilled air. But the bounty hunter was evermore there on the fraying bench, casually slumped down as if he owned the world itself, “I don’t see why we couldn’t scope it out. Roam around outside for a while?”
Glancing away from those piercing eyes, Jisung pocketed his hands as he murmured, “Most likely…”
A fast search online was all that was needed to find the location of the research facility within the limits of their city. One of the forefront centers of that company’s research that Jisung had often seen on front pages of the local news as media attempted to cover up the reports of a certain whistleblower, and hardly more than a thirty minute ride on the trains to the address the wonderful database the internet was provided for them. What would have been twenty minutes on the road with his motorcycle extended to hardly anything more; Not that Jisung would’ve trusted the bounty hunter to be so close to him when his back was facing him. He had no doubt there was at least one bounty placed on his own head. He doubted even more that Minho wouldn’t prioritize that bounty over him.
The facility itself was a ten minute or so walk along less congested roads in a quiet corner in the city. Less buildings, less houses, less urban development surrounding them, more business, more factories of a similar type, more storage warehouses that covered acres for one corporation to blast out their deliveries in little time. The research facility for Athanasia Laboratories itself seemed similar to a warehouse from what they could see: A dystopian type cement block of a few congregated building placed behind iron fences swirled with barbed wire at the top, set far away from any streets that could’ve touched it’s edges with one entrance blocked off with a gate guarded with security. Something more equivalent to a high-security prison than a place who’s company promised was meant to help the betterment of the masses.
Meant to keep any loiterers from breaking in. Or to keep something from breaking out.
Minho, who seemed to have a smudge more experience with the process of “staking out” a location, naturally took the lead. Rather, Jisung allowed him to because he was too hungry to argue much with the bounty hunter. Though wandering around the perimeter of the outside fences blocking the common wandering from passing onto the grounds of the complex, staying on parallel sidewalks to not make their spying obvious, dipping to different alleyways while they talked silently, slipping into the nearby few local shops to divert anyone who might be watching them. Still taking care in maintaining a view of the complex from the distance. There wasn’t much to say about the place aside from being big, intimidating, and deserted from anyone who might work there. Was this the location Seo Changbin had interned at? Maybe…
As they were passing by the chain link fence lined along that sidewalk, Minho hunched over. Lowering himself to glance between the convergence of the twisted metal lines at the building set beyond them. Cautiously, lingering his eyes over the subtle lump in his shirt where he kept his pistol and his tactical knife, Jisung forced himself to take in every beat of the bounty hunter’s movement. The twitch of his eyebrow, the hum hiding on the edge of his tugged lips, the shifting of his shoulders underneath his jacket, the hollow gaze that never saw only looked. He watched the realization dawn on Minho’s face when he commented, “You know, it gives supervillain corporation.”
Nodding along, Jisung glanced through the links too, “Possibly…”
We couldn’t go inside. Even if we wanted to invade with guns blasting, we’d be dispatched by security instantly. There might be methods to sneak in but after the situation with Seo Changbin, they’ve most likely patched up any holes in their security. There might not be as many openings to exploit right now at the height of their attention.
He kept walking as he abandoned Minho somewhere behind, pocketing his hands and tipping his head down to the gum-coated sidewalks they passed over top of.
Unless Seungmin knows someone who can break us in. Or… Don’t I know someone… Didn’t he…?
Faintly, his mind drifted to a familiar outline. A pharmaceutical scientist he had known once. Blond hair and sparkling eyes like a feline, big round glasses he had concealed himself behind, freckles like stars and a delicate frameー
No. I’d prefer not to contact him if possible.
A shudder traveled down his spine. Chills that pricked along his skin causing a frigid air to run over his skin.
If I can avoid that maniac, that would be best. Knowing him he’s likely in on Athanasia Laboratory’s activity anyway…
He undid his hands from his pockets. Instead coming to loop his thumbs around his backpack. Softly bouncing on his feet to occupy him from his thoughts, the backpack pressed harder into his spine to remind him of reality slipping out from underneath his feet.
What can we do?
A hand landed on the lower of his back.
He fliched, quickly recoiling away from the hold. Though as he whipped around, the touch returned to him. This time the hand that landed on him, Minho, clutched a fistful of his white button up shirt and pressed him to keep walking forward. Almost forceful in the manner he shoved Jisung along to fall in step without a choice. And without an option to glance back over their shoulders. Simply pressing him forward as Minho leaned in and whispered, “Sweetheart, I hate to burst your thought bubble, but we’re being followed.”
Jisung dared to spare a glance behind them.
Two men were a distance behind them. Though not appearing to be more than office workers at a first glance, the manner they had eyed the pair was more than enough to convince him of Minho’s assumption.
The teacher simply leaned into him, despite the discomfort the motion had caused him, to utter back, “We’re on their side.”
“They don’t know that,” Minho offered a weak smile in return. The clasp he had loosening back to press as a palm to Jisung’s spine. Forcing them to pick their pace up to escape the men.
As Jisung glanced down, the puddles of drying water collected by the rain gutters had been disturbed by footsteps accidentally tripping into the rain.
Alongside them, the prints from a dog’s paw had trailed off into the alleyway they had come from.
▄︻デ â•â•â”一á°.áŸËŽËŠË—
Comment