Lee Young-jin staggered to his feet. He opened his Boston bag and pulled out a wad of bills. He untied the tight elastic and counted the bills. He separated the bills, reeled the larger ones back together and stuffed them inside the bag, then stuffed the rest into the back pocket of his pants. It seemed like someone was poking him in the temple with a fork, but he shrugged off the headache and picked up his coat again. He grabbed his Glock 17, left the motel and barely managed to catch a cab. He then wrote out the address and showed it to the driver, who nodded confidently.
After a winding ride through alleyways, the cab dropped Lee Young-jin off in a quiet neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. He paid and got out. A small café and restaurant was in front of him. [Café Lleras] The handwritten white letters on the green wooden sign were faded by the weather and time. Lee Young-jin barely pushed the door open with his tired and headache-ridden arms and stepped inside.
Inside, the shop was small and cozy. The ceilings were low and the windows were small and dim. There were potted plants hanging or lying around. It felt like he’d walked into a wooded area.
An old man with white eyes was sitting at the counter.
Lee Young-jin walked up to him. He pointed his finger at something and ordered. The old man stared at the tip of Lee Young-jin’s finger with his graying eyes and nodded.
Lee Young-jin walked over to a seat in the corner that didn’t get much light and sat down, the cushions of the big, old chair flopping down as soon as he did. Still, it was much better than the wobbly seat in his Camry, which must have been at least twenty years old.
Soon the old man came out with a tray in his shaky hands. There was toasted arepa bread with crumbled cheese, along with a jug of condensed milk and a jar of strawberry jam. A caffe latte with plenty of cream followed.
But the mental fatigue was more intense than the physical hunger.
Lee Young-jin took a few sips of coffee, curled up in a ball, and dozed off a bit.
The sound of the café door opening and the bell hanging on the door jingling woke him up.
Lee Young-jin’s eyelids lifted ever so slightly, and he drifted through sleep with a threadlike awareness. Something entered his slender vision, accompanied by a very light, tiny footstep, like a feather falling to the floorboards. Kiik. The chair across from him shifted, its heavy legs scraping against the hardwood floor. Only then did he fully wake up.
Someone was sitting across from him.
A small light fixture was positioned directly behind him, so the outline of his face was faint in the backlight.
Lee Young-jin pushed off the chair armrest with his weak arm and straightened up.
“Hello.”
A voice that was so soft it was almost sweet greeted him. The voice was sweet and calm.
Lee Young-jin turned to look at him.
There sat a man dressed in a gray T-shirt, thin aviation jumper, black slacks, and military walkers. His posture was straight, his stomach and waist slim, and he had a lean body without a hint of fat anywhere.
What was surprising was that he spoke in clear Korean.
Lee Young-jin squinted again.
The face of the man across the table became clearer.
His face was creamy white and soft. The eyelidless eyes were long and slender. His eyebrows were slightly dark, giving him a commanding appearance. The long eyebrows were gently folded, creating a sweet smile on his face. His hair, cropped to cover the back of his ears, was dark black like his eyebrows.
He looked about three or four years older than Lee Young-jin, but he never seemed to be more than thirty.
Extraordinary species. Omega. Oriental.
More precisely, Korean.
Lee Young-jin opened his mouth. Only after repeating the action a few times did a word barely escape.
“Korean?”
“I was surprised, too.”
Theman laughed quietly.
“You didn’t speak English for some reason.”
One more smile.
“Passport….”
Lee Young-jin mumbled in a daze. The man nodded.
“I’ve never gotten one in such a hurry before. I’ve had quite a bit of trouble.”
He pulled a small brown envelope from his arm and placed it on the table. He placed his hand on the envelope and looked at Lee Young-jin with a smile. Without a word, Lee Young-jin pulled a wad of bills from the back pocket of his pants. He placed it on the table as well.
Money and goods were passed back and forth across the table.
The man who took the money smiled broadly.
“All good, clean stuff, safe as long as you don’t go into the U.S. The U.S. is… well, be careful in the U.S.”
Lee Young-jin nodded, picked up the envelope, and pulled out the contents. A thick passport was tucked neatly inside. He flipped it open. A photo of him with an awkward expression was attached. He folded it back up and put it in the envelope.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
The man rolled his eyes and smiled broadly.
It was a very impressive smile.
“It’s fitting that I met a Korean in a place like this.”
He pulled a business card out of his flat wallet and handed it to Lee. Lee Young-jin took it in one gulp. A concise sentence and contact information were scrawled across the white, shiny surface of the card.
[ WE DO ANYTHING 🙂
+52 55 5139 7001 ]
“I work all over South America, so if you need any help, give me a call.”
The man then stuck out his hand to Lee Young-jin with a very friendly smile. The handshake was short. His hand was long, straight, and made up of strong muscle and bone, as expected for an extraordinary species. Lee Young-jin quickly withdrew his hand, afraid to compare it to his own.
“Eat that. The food here is delicious.”
The man pointed a finger at Lee Young-jin’s still-full plate, then rose to his feet.
His light feet stomped soundlessly on the parquet floor as he walked away. A thud. A rattle. The café door opened and the bell rang. The door closed.
Lee Young-jin looked down at the plates on the table. After a moment’s consideration, he took a bite out of a round, thick slice of bread, spread with condensed milk and topped with a generous dollop of strawberry jam. Both the coffee and the bread were lukewarm, but it wasn’t bad. The sugar and carbs filled his stomach and gave him enough energy to get moving again. Thank goodness.
***
Seo Seung-hyun was the kind of person who learned from failure.
Failure didn’t frustrate or anger him.
So far, so good.
He sat in the swivel chair facing the room and stared at the interior in silence. The awkwardly made bed. The closet slammed shut. A steak that had only been sliced into one piece. A barely touched quinoa salad. The room, with its lingering sense of life, smelled like Lee Young-jin. The smell was thick and sweet.
Everything was still there.
Except for Lee Young-jin.
He leaned his elbows on the armrests and rested his chin on the back of his hands. His legs were stretched out as long as a room, and he stared around the room in silence.
Xi Xiping’s private plane at El Dorado Airport had taken off twenty-six hours ago.
He should already be in Macau by now.
Ms. Yang was devastated and personally came to apologize to Seo Seung-hyun. Yang Ye-ri knelt flat on the ground, and Ms. Yang’s beautiful face was filled with cold sweat.
The item was gone.
It wasn’t taken by Xi Xiping.
It had literally gone missing.
Along with Lee Young-jin.
The whole plan had gone awry.
The reflection of the dusky garden lights stained the surface of the tightly closed glass window. Seo Seung-hyun stared at the window. He saw his own reflection in the glass. A man leaning sideways in a chair. An ambiguous expression, exactly halfway between a smile and an expressionless face. Seo Seung-hyun had a brief eye-contact with himself, then looked away.
He took a deep breath. His lungs bulged and deflated. A fuzzy, sweet scent rushed in with the air, filling both lungs.
Seo Seung-hyun didn’t even stir, enjoying the empty fullness for a moment.
He shifted his position and crossed his legs.
With the tip of his index finger, he tapped the armrests with a steady, regular tap, tap, tap.
The CCTV captured nothing.
Nothing… like a lie, nothing.
Nothing but a looping screen of tranquility, as if time had stopped. The pretense of a luxury mansion with an ironclad security system was a lie, especially for its owner, Ms. Yang.
The goods were gone, Xi Xiping had fled to Macau alone, and Lee Young-jin had fled.
Seo Seung-hyun didn’t know where to place the severity of the situation.
He slowly pushed himself to his feet. With slow steps, he crossed the room and stood in the doorway. He turned off the light. The furniture and everything else was a blur in the darkness. He left the room and closed the door behind him.
He left the doorway without looking back.
He made his way to the hexagonal drawing room. Jang Young-hee was waiting there. When he saw Seo Seung-hyun, he jumped out of his seat and bent down. Seo Seung-hyun showed no reaction. The corners of his lips curled up slightly, but it was too vague to be called a smile. Seo walked over to the seat and sat down. The heavy couch made a rustling sound as the cushions pressed into the Alpha’s fleshy body.
“Situation.”
“We found the woman who sold the stolen car two evenings ago, she said she sold it to a young Asian, so the timing is perfect.”
“When we were waiting at the Guaymaral airport.”
“Yes.”
Jang Young-hee nodded.
“I’ve scattered the license plates and registration numbers, and I’ve put a bounty on his head, so we’ll find him soon enough.”
“It’s been almost thirty hours already, fuck. When is soon?”
“I’m sorry.”
Jang Young-hee bowed his head deeply instead of an excuse.
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