The late evening air carried varied sounds of Seoul’s busy streets to the third-floor balcony where Minho stood, safely concealed in the shadows.

There was something deceptive about his nonchalant stance, leaning against the wall, ankles crossed, one hand on his pocket, another casually holding a lighted cigarette between his fingers. His head was slightly bent, eyes focused on the floor as if he found his worn-out sneakers the most fascinating thing in the world. 

In the street below, vehicles rushed by, accompanied by the occasional honking of horns. From time to time, boisterous laughter and trails of conversations from passersby drifted up, which Minho easily tuned out.

He lifted his head, brought his free hand to his mouth, and took a deep drag from the cigarette, welcoming the cool, heady sensation curling through his throat before filling his lungs. Letting his breath out into a dense cloud of smoke, he watched as its tendrils swirled and shifted like ghosts in the summer breeze.

Minho was a patient man, molded by years of training that blended so well with his innate nature. Nights like this had been his routine ever since Seonsaengnim permitted him to be a part of the operations.

Timing is everything, the older man’s voice echoed in his mind. Acting too soon could be a foolish mistake with detrimental results. Minho took that advice to heart. He could wait it out from evening to dawn, watching an elusive target with the eyes of a hawk, assessing the situation from all angles. Only when he was certain that the conditions were set for success would he make his first move.

“Get ready. Target’s car is leaving the apartment complex,” a man’s melodic voice spoke through Minho’s wireless earpiece. He always found it amusing that Jonghyun was chosen to man the control room. Minho thought he sounded more like a radio DJ on a late-night show.

“Copy that, hyung,” Minho drawled before he uncrossed his ankles and straightened his back. He threw the cigarette on the ground, extinguishing it with a firm stomp of his foot.

This particular target had been put on surveillance for a week now. They knew the man’s every move, from the time he went out of his apartment unit and the time he got back. The restaurant he frequently ordered his takeaway dinner from and the mail he consistently received every week.

But the man was too careful. He knew how to cover his tracks. Bugging his apartment did not get them anywhere. All they learned was that the man slept around with different women every fortnight. They could not even find anything substantial from the target’s mobile phone which Taemin hacked with ease.  No emails, no phone call records. 

He and Kibum have been trailing him the whole week and they did not witness any transaction that would give them a clue about the valuable object they were after. 

Time for the next step then, he mused.

There was only one way to get what they need – breaking in. And though Minho hated mundane assignments like this, the pay was too good to turn down. With that in mind, he turned towards the stairs. The target’s unit was on the fourth floor, three doors down from the landing. The corridor was well-lit and Minho knew the security cameras could capture his face if he was not careful.

“Taemin,” he called softly.

“Yes, hyung?” A cheerful voice answered. Minho could hear him crisply munching on some snacks, probably flaming hot Cheetos that he always favored.

“Do you still have access to the CCTV on this building? I need you to turn off all the cameras in the fourth-floor corridor.”

“Tsk. I’m surprised you have to ask. What do you take me for? I already did before you went up the stairs.”

Minho sighed a mixture of relief and irritation at Taemin’s gloating. “Thanks, smartass.” He heard the younger boy’s delighted snicker before the connection was cut off. He was not quick enough.

Tagging the bill of his cap down, he made his way to the target’s door. He then took out a pair of black leather gloves from the packet of his black denim jacket and put it on. Picking the lock was as easy as closing his eyes. This particular skill was developed through years of training under the coaching of ajusshi.

When the door opened with a decisive click, Minho stepped inside without second thoughts. He was greeted by the dim light of the tiny living room.

The apartment was a studio unit, just big enough to house a single bed, a set of sofa and couches, and a compact kitchen space. Beside it was a door that opened to the balcony. There was another door leading to the bathroom.

He scanned the room with laser eyes. There were not many hiding places in the cramped space. But he had to start somewhere. He went to the bed, rummaging under the pillows and lifting the huge mattress to check underneath. There was a small bedside table with several drawers. He started opening each drawer, perusing through an assortment of items inside, noting odd items here and there – a comb, a set of batteries, a clear storage bag with dozens of micro SD cards in it.  

“Damnit,” he cursed. It seemed he would be forced to comb the whole space. Getting down on his knees, he scoured every corner of the bed area, raising the worn-out carpet and examining the floorboards. He saw nothing out of the ordinary. Sighing, he got back on his feet and proceeded to the lonely wardrobe in the corner. He riffled through neatly hanged men’s clothes, feeling the sides of the closet. The chest of drawers was pulled out, revealing undergarments arranged by colors.

Minho surmised that the target was meticulous. He would not leave a valuable item lying around in obvious spots and hiding places. Taking a deep breath, he walked to the little kitchen and looked out of the window, not really taking in the dazzling view of the city lights. His mind was working calmly.

If he were the target, whose personality seemed to be so well-organized, where would he put a precious jewel for safe-keeping? Not in wardrobes and bedside tables, of course. Nor under the pillows and bed covers. Think, Minho. Think carefully.

The apartment studio was too sparse that he could not find any other storage area except for the kitchen cabinets above the sink. Trying out one of them, he spied jars and jars of spices and condiments. So, the man was not only fussy. He seemed to love cooking a lot too. Minho’s eyes glided over the uniform jars arranged in an orderly fashion. One of them had dark packaging that concealed what was inside.

Well, isn’t it odd, he thought. Wouldn’t it drive someone so methodical crazy to see something that stands out like a sore thumb?

He reached out to get the glass container. It had the same green plastic cap like the other containers but unlike the others, the glass was not transparent. Calmly, Minho turned and lifted the cap. Something glittering winked at him.

“Gotcha,” he exclaimed. Just then, he heard Jonghyun’s voice on his earbud.

“Target is nearing the apartment. You have fifteen minutes to cover your tracks and vacate the place.”

“What? Hyung, why didn’t you tell me right away?” Minho let out a frustrated breath.

“I was busy assisting Kibum,” Jonghyun started to explain. “He lost the target briefly. We didn’t know he’d be taking the shortcut alley and going back at this hour.”

“,” Minho said under his breath. He took the necklace out of the jar. He then reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a blue pouch. Inside was a glittering jewel that looked exactly the same as the one he found in the jar. Moving quickly, he dropped the replica in the jar and put it back in place, careful to put everything in order.

“Minho, you’ve ten more minutes. Target is now in the basement parking area.”

“I’m making sure I don’t leave any traces, hyung. Give me five more minutes,” Minho gave the room another once over. He saw nothing out of order. The bedcovers were straightened. The pillows were as they were positioned before. The drawers were closed.

His eyes landed on the wall clock. Something about the way it hung at an odd angle on the wall piqued his interest. It looked like someone fastened it back on its hook hurriedly. Minho walked purposely to the wall and reached for the old-fashioned clock. He examined its back, running his fingers idly around its base. Clicking the battery open, he deftly located the removable SD card and pocketed it.

“Minho, you need to get out of the unit and take the stairs. Target is heading to the elevator,” Jonghyun’s voice sounded calm and suave despite the situation. 

“Wait, I’m almost done,” Minho said. He strode to the bedside table and rummaged through the chest drawer, taking out the bag of SD cards. Picking out one, he took it back to the clock and skillfully replaced the card he removed earlier.

“Are you safely out, Minho-ya?” Jonghyun prompted.

“Not yet, hyung.”

“Minho, for goodness’ sake, get out of there now!” For once, Jonhgyun’s voice became almost frantic. “He’s already inside the elevator. He’d be there any minute now.”

“Oh, hell.” Minho eyed the door. He did not think he would make it before the target reached the floor he was currently in.

“Hyung, you’re toast. Busted.” Taemin’s voice came up this time. Minho detected amusement bordering on glee in it.

Damn that brat, he thought, exasperated. With nowhere to run, Minho took the only sensible option left.  He ran to the balcony, sliding the door open with ease. He looked down and noted the protruding balcony of the second floor, which was aligned to the one he was in.

“He’s near his unit! Ten feet,” Jonghyun said in a panic. “Nine, eight, seven…”

Minho gritted his teeth, tuning out Jonghyun’s rattled countdown, concentrating hard on his monumental task.

Taking a few steps back, he eyed the railings with distaste before jogging up to it. When he was a few feet away, he prepared to spring up, placing both hands on the rail and jumping over it. He tucked his feet up and brought them between his hands, pushing himself and leaning forward in midair. His eyes were fixed on the second floor’s balcony landing, marking the spot where his feet will land.

He let go with his hands and prepared for a touchdown. As always, he landed softly on the tiled second-floor balcony. Dusting off his jeans with his hands, he walked to the stairs, whistling.

“Damnit, Choi Minho. You could have hurt yourself!” Jonghyun shouted in his ear, the sound of which made Minho wince.

“What a show-off,” Taemin quipped. He sounded impressed though.

“What a , you mean. Hey, do you have a death wish?” Kibum snapped, his voice dripping with annoyance.  

Minho grinned. “Come on, guys,” he said, taking the stairs two steps at a time. “You worry too much. I’m almost touched.”

“Yeah, yeah. We could definitely see you getting misty-eyed like an idiot right now,” Jonghyun was still pissed off. He believed Minho’s stunt just took ten years off his life span.

“I’m giving you five minutes to reach the street where I parked. If you’re late by even just a second, you’re walking home.”

Kibum’s ultimatum made Minho laugh, letting the tension seep out of his system.

~~~~~

Lee Jinki stood outside the pretty flower shop in a commercial building owned by his father. He was a brawny man, with wide shoulders and narrow hips. His muscular form was tempered by his expensive tailored suit, often in gray or midnight blue.

The man possessed a ruggedly handsome face. Thick eyebrows, long, straight nose, thin, unyielding lips, and chiseled chin. His eyes looked too serious, though, as if he carried the world on his shoulders. There was a certain coldness about him that warned off anyone looking at his direction, except for a number of women who liked the challenge of taming his seemingly aloof nature.

His eyes fell on the woman behind the glass window, busily arranging the freshly arrived flowers in a metal bucket. She was tall and slender. Her sleek, black hair cascaded behind her back like a waterfall. Jinki could see her side profile – high cheekbones, aquiline nose, and rosy sensual lips that were quick to smile or pout. She exuded a quiet elegance that always managed to take his breath away.

But he neither explored that feeling nor let it take root. It was not as if his life was his own to live. 

Sometimes he wondered, though, how it would feel like to give in to the urge, to slide his arm around her waist and pull her close, so close that he could feel her warm breath against his skin. So close that he could look into her soft brown eyes and drown.

How would it feel like to let this dream take its course? To let himself drift away with her gentle voice and graceful laughter. To tell her his fears and secrets, and hope that she would not turn away. Or turn him away.

He shook his head, effectively tucking away the distracting thoughts and focusing on the task at hand. He lifted his hand to signal for his young assistant.

“Doyoung-ssi, any moment now, a car will pull up the sidewalk and open the window. You need to get there fast and receive a package I’ve requested. You can’t alert them to my presence because I need to watch and observe. Did I make myself clear?”

Jinki positioned himself near one of the columns, leaning back and crossing his ankles casually. He looked inconspicuous as if he was waiting for someone to come out of one of the shops. A few minutes later, he saw Doyoung striding purposely into the side of the road just as an unassuming black car halted with a screech. The tinted window rolled down and Jinki saw a man concealed by a baseball cap and black mask hand out a blue pouch. Doyoung bowed in gratitude, watching the car speed away before making his way back to Jinki.

Taking the pouch from Doyoung, Jinki opened it and poured the heirloom jewelry into his hand, scrutinizing it for a few minutes before giving a satisfied nod.

“Impressive. Very impressive,” he said softly. “Did you say Byunghun never suspected a thing?”

Doyoung shook his head. “No, it was a clean, thorough job.”

“I guess we could trust them then,” Jinki gave a sigh of relief. “I want you to set up another appointment. This time, I want to meet in person,” he instructed Doyoung before he took out his phone and dialed his childhood friend’s number. “Hajoon-ah, I took care of it. Make sure you don’t make the same mistake twice.”

~~~~~

Kim Kibum parked the car outside the tall high rise condominium. He was a tall, lanky man whose commanding presence and quick wit often helped extricate their team out of difficult situations. They called him the human chameleon because of his ability to transform his looks and go undercover. 

This time, he wore his hair short and clean and dyed it in sunrise orange. One would say it was too flashy for the kind of work they were doing. But Kibum, somehow, pulled it off. He loved standing out if he could and lying low if he had to.

He and Minho got out of the car at the same time. A valet promptly ran to their side, catching the car keys Kibum threw his way.

They were both dressed in gym clothes. Minho in his usual white training shirt made of polyester fabric and black training shorts. A black canvas bag was slung on his shoulder. Kibum was sporting an all-black tracksuit, carrying his go-to gym bag and a tumbler on the other hand. The two of them strolled into the spacious and elegant foyer. The receptionist greeted them with a smile that Kibum returned while Minho simply gave her a small bow.

Since it was a bit late, there were not a lot of people lingering in the area. Minho strode into the private elevator that will take them to the penthouse, Kibum following closely behind. A few minutes later, they reached the 25th floor. The elevator door opened to a deserted narrow corridor. The walls were painted in white on both sides. In the far end was a door that opened to a flight of stairs. It required a secret code that Minho punched in without breaking a stride.

The huge metal door swung open, revealing the white-painted metal staircase. He and Kibum walked up three flights of stairs. A heavy steel door with an eye-shaped ornament in the middle greeted them. Minho moved closer to it, putting his face near the door and letting the infrared camera scan his eye. A beep followed after a few seconds before they heard the door click open.

Minho gave it an offhand push, letting himself inside. He was welcomed by the expansive sitting room with a high vaulted ceiling and massive glass windows showcasing the sweeping views of Seoul’s skyline. 

Facing the stunning sight was an L-shaped couch in cream color, accented by white cushions and stylishly printed throw pillows to give it a comfortable and inviting look. A glass-topped rectangular center table was adorned with a vase of white carnations, a beautiful contrast to the expanse of steel and concrete. This living space was sectioned off by a low bookshelf, with two white lampshades in contemporary design sitting on top. 

To his right, one can spot a dining set with its oval marble table and six brown modern chairs. The sleek white floor seemed endless, complementing the silky smooth countertops of the kitchen island with its rustic counter stools made with metal frames, accentuating the place’s open and airy feel.

The sound of laughter drew Minho and Kibum into the door beyond the kitchen. 

Minho pushed the white door open. It was the home office, a seemingly cramped room with built-in shelves lining one side of the wall while the floor to ceiling glass windows gave the room an illusion of space.

He was greeted by a grinning Taemin who beamed wider when he noticed Minho and Kibum entering. “Speaking of the devil…”

Lee Taemin, their resident genius hacker, had the face of an angel, but Minho often suspected he was a spawn of the devil in disguise. His hair was dyed in mahogany brown, stylishly trimmed to frame and highlight his soft, cherubic features.  Though he was rarely seen without a teasing grin and annoying smirk, Taemin could be just as serious and focused as the three of them. He was often curious, a tinkerer who breaks into things, literally and figuratively. 

Kim Jonghyun gave Minho a once-over, probably checking if he sustained an injury from his earlier stunt. He was shorter than all three of them, a sore fact that always got on his nerves. His aura exuded gentleness. But people should not be fooled by his puppy dog eyes because underneath his seemingly soft exterior was a stubborn streak that could take anyone by surprise. He had always been protective of the younger men, being the oldest in the team.

Satisfied that Minho was safe and whole, Jonghyun jerked his head to the direction of the built-in shelves. On the shelf near the huge monitor was a button that Taemin pushed. The shelves slid sideways, revealing a secret control room filled with dozens of monitors.

A long table and less than half a dozen chairs were situated in front of the monitors. The chairs were similar to those used by gamers with its comfortable headrest, back support, and arm pads. Jonghyun took the chair in the middle.

“So, we’ve finished covering your tracks from the security cameras. No need to worry about them. The final payment was also deposited sometime ago. Good job, guys,” Jonghyun said crossing his hands in front of him and facing the monitors. “But I still maintain you’re a bloody idiot, Minho, for attempting yet another dangerous stunt.”

“It did the job, hyung. No use to keep on admonishing me every chance you get,” Minho sighed, barely keeping the complaint out of his voice. 

Jonghyun swiveled and gave him a withering stare. “You know Hyerin won’t like it if anything happens to you. She will chew my head off.”

“What are you talking about? That woman never worried over me.”

Jonghyun did not give him an answer. Instead, he turned back to the monitor, pulling the keyboard towards him and typing the password. He retrieved the secret email he received earlier that day, showing a dancing envelope in the center of the screen.

“Seonsaengnim sent us a message,” Minho’s heart skipped a beat. He heard Kibum gasp, while in the corner of his eye, he saw Taemin nervously fiddled with the hem of his shirt. They had not heard from Seonsaengnim in the last six months and they were used to it. Sometimes the old man disappeared from the radar for long periods of time, and then he would pop up with a message or a new assignment out of nowhere as if nothing happened. “It’s code black so I decided to wait for all of you before opening it.”

They all knew what code black meant. This one was not only urgent and important but also personally close to their hearts. 

The three of them gathered around Jonghyun, eyes intently fixed on the monitor. Jonghyun’s hands flew over the keyboard, typing yet another set of complex code. The envelope stopped moving, turning once and flipping back to a page that contained the message.

“I got all the names. We need to meet in the usual place.”

Fifteen years. He waited for fifteen years to see those words. Minho clenched his fists, his face turning hard and a resolute glint entering his eyes. Mum, dad, Minseok hyung, just wait a little bit longer. I’m nearly there.