Jongdae’s plan was simple. He would behave as if all was normal. Baekhyun would pull his vanishing act in the crowded chaos just before the customs checkpoint. Sarai would stop to look for him, and while she was distracted, Jongdae would go through the checkpoint and wait for Baekhyun to perform his sneaky voodoo and join him. It was supposed to be simple. Of course, it fell apart immediately.
Baekhyun and Sarai were waiting for Jongdae when he stepped off of the plane. Sarai looked terrible, her normal glower enhanced by grayish-blue bruises under her eyes and in the hollows of her cheeks. She was leaning heavily on her suitcase, and Baekhyun  had one arm tucked into hers. A casual observer would see a less-than-enthused young man supporting his airsick companion. Except Baekhyun wasn’t the nurturing, supportive type. As Jongdae joined them, Sarai pushed herself upright, and there was flash of silver around her wrist as she adjusted her sleeve. Handcuffs, Jongdae realized. Fantastic. 
“What took you so long?” she grumbled, her words slightly slurred. Before Jongdae could whip out a witty reference to the literal horde that had been between him and airplane exit, Sarai hobbled away, using her suitcase like a walker, dragging Baekhyun by the hand like a reticient child. Jongdae shuffled along behind them, shortening his steps so he wouldn’t outpace Sarai. She was clearly struggling, sweat beading her brow, her lips pressed into a thin line of suffering. At the first restroom they passed, Sarai ground to a halt, casting a longing glance at the door.
“I can handle Baekhyun for a while if you need to take a break,” Jongdae offered, and it was only partially a ploy. He needed to separate them if they were going to escape the airport, but he was also genuinely concerned for Sarai’s wellbeing. “You don’t look well.”
“Yeah, go dry heave or something,” Baekhyun suggested, unhelpfully. Sarai growled at him, and he added, “ You look like you died on the plane.”
“I know the difference between falling asleep and being dosed with midazolam,” Sarai replied sourly, tightening her grip until Baekhyun winced. “You’re not leaving my sight until we get to the car.” She resumed her painstaking progress through the airport. 
Behind her back, Jongdae threw an exasperated thumbs up at Baekhyun. Great job, he mouthed, and Baekhyun sniffed and looked away, ignoring him. The crowd around them grew thicker as the corridor funneled all of the travellers to the customs and immigration checkpoint, and Jongdae started using his elbows to avoid being separated from his group. Now would have been the perfect time to enact his plan, but as long as Baekhyun and Sarai were chained together, there was nothing he could do. He briefly entertained the fantasy of wrestling the tiny woman to the floor in the middle of Incheon airport, and rifling through her pockets for the keys to the cuffs. Irritatingly, the scenario kept ending with Sarai killing him in various ways, despite her weakened state. All he could do now was hope that she’d have to undo the cuffs in order to present their passports to immigration. The opportunity would be fleeting, but the plan could still work.
They worked their way to the front of the snaking line, immigration papers in hand. Jongdae used the time to map out the fastest route to the airport exit. Once Baekhyun vanished, Sarai wouldn’t be distracted for long, and he didn’t want to be around when she realized she’d been ditched. Finally, Sarai was next to be called, and Jongdae waited impatiently for her to release Baekhyun from his captivity. Instead, she checked to make sure the chain of the cuffs was still hidden in her sleeve, and raised a stiff finger at Baekhyun in a wordless warning. Then she gripped his hand tightly and marched towards the waiting immigration officer, no hint of the slouching, poisoned woman who’d been weaving through the terminal. Her competence was infuriating.
Jongdae was close enough to eavesdrop, parsing out snatches of her conversation over the general hubbub of the crowd.
“Legal guardian?” the immigration officer gestured toward Baekhyun, who was, surprisingly, just standing. Sarai replied in the affirmative, handing over their passports, one blue, one green, and bundle of forms. Jongdae bounced slightly on his toes, waiting for the officer to notice that the pair were tied by more than just familial bonds. But Sarai kept their linked hands beneath the counter, and Baekhyun was as docile as a lamb, not doing a single thing that would draw attention.  
Despite their innocuous appearance, they managed to attract the notice of one of the guards patrolling the line. The guard murmured something into his radio, his gaze intent on them as they collected their passports and disappeared through the checkpoint to the customs area. After a furtive glance around the immigration hall, the guard followed them to the other side. Jongdae clutched the strap of his backpack, his fingers tightening with sudden anxiety. Danger. He could feel it in his bones. He hastened to the next immigration officer that beckoned, answering the standard questions absently, his focus on the too-interested guard. Maybe the guard had just been doing his job, but Jongdae’s gut said otherwise.
“Wait just a moment , Detective,” the immigration officer said, and Jongdae blinked as he beckoned another of the patrolling guards over. The officer handed the guard his passport, and Jongdae’s heart plummeted. First, a too-interested guard following Sarai and Baekhyun, now  he was being detained.This was a trap.
“Follow me, sir,” the guard said, his tone bored. Jongdae trailed after him reluctantly, his eyes darting to every guard, gauging every possible threat as they walked the length of the immigration hall, heading for an unmarked door. He wasn’t sure what they were after, but if this was an attack, he wouldn’t be taken unawares. The guard held open the door, revealing a short corridor lined with glass-walled interrogation rooms. The door shut behind them with the soft snick of an electronic lock, shutting out the white noise bustle of the immigration hall. Every sound seemed too loud in the sudden silence. The keys on the guard’s hip jangled as he moved toward one of the rooms, already occupied by a person standing with their back to the door. The guard rapped on the glass with his knuckle, three quick notes in rapid succession, and pulled open the door. He waved Jongdae inside the occupied room and pulled out the waiting chair with a rasp. Jongdae sat down cautiously, waiting for the ratcheting clicks of handcuffs, but instead, his passport landed on the metal table beside him with a light smack.
“All yours, sunbaenim,” The guard sketched a quick bow before leaving, not even bothering to lock the door. The room’s other occupant turned  then, and Jongdae half-stood in surprise at the familiar face.
“Team Leader Lee?” 
His former boss snorted, crossing his arms. “You expecting someone else?”
Jongdae collapsed back into his seat, the tension of the last few minutes draining out of him. “Definitely not you.” He eyed his the older man. “What are you doing here?”
Team Leader Lee perched on the edge of the table with guttural sigh, scratching the back of his neck. That was a bad sign.
“Kyungsoo’s parents are missing.”
Jongdae’s chair clattered to the floor as he shot to his feet. “What do you mean missing?”
Lee ground his teeth in frustration. “I mean their car was found on the side on the road, still running, with no-one in the driver’s seat.”
“How long ago?!”
“Four days,” Lee rubbed his face, the days-old stubble scraping against his callused palms. “We’ve got no ransom demands, no leads, no motive at all  for whoever took them.”
“And you waited until just now to tell me?” Jongdae’s voice rose to a yell. Kyungsoo’s parents were like his aunt and uncle, there whenever he needed a parent’s advice. They’d stood with him at Yoondae’s funeral.
Lee’s eyebrows beetled angrily at the accusation. “When was the last time you checked your phone?”
Jongdae’s hand went to his back pocket automatically before he remembered. He’d given his phone, and that video, to the fugitive outliers. It felt like a lifetime ago, but it had been only a handful of days. “I lost it,” he said finally. “My phone.”
“Then you’re lucky I flagged you on the watchlist.” Team Leader Lee straightened and tossed Jongdae’s passport at him. “Let’s go, I’ll fill you in on the details on the way to the station.” When Jongdae didn’t follow immediately, he turned back, holding open the door to the immigration hall. “Time’s wasting, kid.”
“You flagged me,” Jongdae realized. “But I wasn’t traveling alone.”
Lee frowned. “Were you with that NIS director? The old man?”
Jongdae shook his head, the old anxiety creeping back. If his team leader didn’t know Sarai and Baekhyun, then that border guard had been sent by someone else. “I have to find my team,” he said quickly, pushing past his old boss. “They’re being followed.”
 Jongdae ran, following the signs to the baggage claim. They would have gone there for Baekhyun’s suitcase, with any luck they would still be waiting. He slowed for a moment at a status board, skimming the blinking tables for information— the luggage from their flight had already come through. He elbowed his way into the crowd surrounding the conveyor belt assigned to their flight, checking faces, but the ones he sought were nowhere to be seen.
Jongdae fought his way back free of the crowd and turned in a small circle, breathlessly scanning the waiting area, but there was no trace of the handcuffed pair. The suspicious guard was missing as well. Team Leader caught up to him, wheezing from the run. 
“Not here?” he asked, hands on his hips as he caught his breath.
Jongdae shook his head, too worked up for words, and headed for the exit. Lee followed, grumbling, but flashed his badge to speed them through last line of customs officials.
They entered the soaring main terminal, circumventing the line of excited greeters waiting for their loved ones. Jongdae searched the terminal at a jog, his head swiveling back and forth as he looked for the flash of Sarai’s scarf, listened for Baekhyun’s sarcastic whine. His search took him past the taxi stand and finally, finally, he spotted them. Sarai had unlocked their handcuffs, and she was sitting in taxi waiting area, her head resting on the handle of her suitcase. Baekhyun was leaning against the counter, chatting with one of the drivers.
“Sarai!” Jongdae called out in relief. Sarai raised her head at the sound of her name, and Baekhyun pointed in his direction, as the driver turned. Jongdae froze midstep as he saw the man’s face. It was the same guard. He was even still wearing the uniform, he’d just swapped the Customs Service patches with ones from a taxi company and put on a vest. The guard had been smiling amiably when he turned, but at Jongdae’s sudden stop, the smile dropped off his face, and his hand went to his belt.
“You found them,” Team Leader Lee arrived, stumbling directly into the seat next to Sarai. He held out a hand to shake, puffing in exertion.  “Detective Lee, Seoul Police.”
As Sarai shook his hand with a bemused expression, Jongdae kept his eye on the suspicious guard. He hadn’t made a move yet, but he definitely had his hand on a weapon. He was watching the exchange between Sarai and Team Leader Lee with an intensity in his eyes that Jongdae didn’t like at all. He was young, a bit taller than Jongdae and, to an average observer, he seemed thin, harmless. The giveaway was how he stood, his posture relaxed but not static, at ease but not at rest, coiled like a predator idling in the bushes. He was standing far too close to Baekhyun.
“Kim!” Jongdae started as Lee barked his name. “Get over here and explain the situation.”
Jongdae hesitated, torn. Every step closer to Lee and Sarai was a step further away from Baekhyun and the armed assassin masquerading as a taxi driver. But he couldn’t just stand here, or the assassin would know his cover was blown. Jongdae’s hip itched for the weight of his police sidearm or even a baton. Without a weapon of his own, there was precious little he could do. He began walking towards Lee and Sarai, and the assassin met his eyes.  One side of his mouth lifted in a crooked smirk, and he moved slightly, so that Baekhyun was always between them and the taxi stand’s counter was at his back. The assassin was using Baekhyun as a shield. He knew Jongdae had made him. 
Jongdae swallowed, his mind racing through possible solutions as he slowly closed the distance between himself, Lee, and Sarai.
“Is there tar on your feet? What are you doing, Kim?” Team Leader Lee grabbed his arm and pulled him the rest of the way into their circle. For a split second, Jongdae looked away from the assassin, jostled by the team leader’s hold. He whipped his head back towards the threat, drawing breath to scream a warning, but it was too late. The assassin was already in motion, pulling out a tiny single use pistol practically hidden by his long fingers. Baekhyun was in front of him. Team Leader Lee and Sarai were both looking at Jongdae. None of them would see  the pistol in time to react. Sarai’s eyes widened as she saw something in Jongdae’s expression, and she turned toward the assassin, rising from her seat.
Baekhyun disappeared, vanished, an empty space where he had been standing.
The assassin pitched forward, like he’d been rammed in the gut.
The pistol barked once.
Blood erupted from Sarai’s left shoulder, and she slammed back into her seat.
Chaos erupted around them as nearby travellers fled screaming from the crime. Jongdae charged towards the doubled over assassin, trying to tackle him now that his one shot was spent. The assassin straightened at the last moment, and panic flashed across his face, but Jongdae was too close to avoid. His shoulder connected with the assassin’s chest, but then all resistance evaporated and Jongdae slammed into the taxi counter, headfirst. He slid to the ground, gasping, stunned, as fine dust rained down all around him. Smells like cinnamon, Jongdae thought giddily, and out.