For a long moment, everything was very still. The press of the gun's nozzle into the centre of Jongup's back didn't falter, nor did his arms in the air so in the absence of light he chose instead to listen to the rhythm of all four of them breathing. Himchan's was slow and steady, while the man standing beside him was wheezing audibly. The third man, the one behind Jongup, was breathing so silently that Jongup decided he had to be the one in charge, or at least, the one in better control of himself. Good, he thought. He could work with that. Though the gun was unmoving, his hold seemed relaxed and comfortable, the kind of hold that someone who was not amateur with a firearm had and Jongup knew he couldn't make a move unless there was a distraction.

And a distraction is what Himchan provided.

It started with the soft shuffle of one foot over the dusty floor, then in a fluid movement Himchan twisted his body and flipped his assailant over his hip and sent him crashing to the warehouse floor with a grunt. In the fraction of a second following that first heavy thud, Jongup heard In-Charge's breath hitch in his ear, and took the moment of his distraction to duck away and sail a hard kick into the hands still holding on to his weapon, sending it flying from his grip and skidding across the floor and hitting a wall somewhere off to their left.

In-Charge cursed low and swung out his right arm, and in the dark Jongup didn't see it coming until a clenched fist was colliding hard with the side of his head, and he stumbled back until his legs met the boxes stacked in the centre of the room. His ears were ringing, and he clenched his eyes shut in the hopes the sound would fade. Not far behind him, Wheezer had made his way back up to his feet and Himchan was stumbling away from his swinging arms. He cursed under his breath as a fist collided with his stomach, aggravating the bruises already spread across his skin and he swung his right arm to hit the other directly in the eye. This time, though, Wheezer didn't stumble back and with his right hand secure around his gun, he brought it down hard onto the crown of Himchan's head and he went down with a thud.

“Hyung?” Jongup called out, his head turning blindly around as more feet came towards them running, but Himchan didn't answer and three sets of hands grabbed at Jongup's arms, then a bag was pulled over his head.

It was stupid. This was stupid. Jongup had training, he'd been pulled through the ringer to develop his skills, and he knew better than to get distracted by something so trivial as flirtation. They should have searched the area more efficiently, they should have been quieter, and his eyes should have stayed up and alert, not chasing Himchan's movements in the hopes of catching his smile. Now as a result his hands were being secured behind his back with zip ties.

“You alright?” In-Charge asked and Wheezer grunted. Lights were flickering on, and Jongup could just make out the shadowy outlines of people through the mesh fabric of the bag.

“The er punched me.” More people were coming into the room, and Jongup tried to keep track of just how many. At first, he thought four, then he changed his mind to ten, but he was distracted when the heavy weight of Himchan's body was hauled up and propped against his back. He twitched his fingers, he could feel Himchan's where his hands were tied behind his back, too, but the man didn't move in response. He was unconscious, or at least Jongup hoped he was only unconscious.

“What have we got?” Came a woman's voice to the right. It was strong, full of authority and Jongup could have sworn that he'd heard it before, but the ringing in his ears was making him dizzy and he couldn't focus enough to pinpoint where.

“Two hostiles ma'am. Trying to get into the boxes.” In-Charge (who maybe wasn't as In Charge as initially thought) said.

“Search them.” Ma'am replied and hands were coming down onto Jongup again, feeling through the inside of his coat and along the legs of his jeans to his ankles, anywhere he might have concealed a weapon. When he felt his ID card and wallet pulled from the inside pocket of his overcoat, his teeth pressed down together. They'd see they were cops, and in turn they would definitely be taken to Lee.

“Ma'am.” Wheezer said, “I found this in the mouthy one's pocket.”

“This one's got one, too.” Not-So-In-Charge added.

Footsteps, then silence as Ma'am flipped open their identification cards and stared down at them for a long moment. She tilted them into the light and pursed her lips, then held both for someone else to take.

“They're fake.” She said easily and Jongup's stomach dropped, “Load them into the truck. These two are coming with us.”

“Where to, Ma'am?” Wheezer asked, as he picked up his gun from the floor and pulled back the slide to ensure a bullet was loaded into the chamber.

“To have a chat with the boss.”

Through the ringing in his ears, and the sensation of Himchan's limp body leaning up against his, Jongup had one clear thought: .

*

Daehyun was starting to think it was statistically probable that he was going mad. It sounded pessimistic, or like an over response to the rational pressures of a job, but with every document saying the same thing, and every photo of the same crime scenes, he felt as though he was going round and round in circles and frankly it was making him dizzy. Golden Lotus were importing something, nobody knew what, there were ex-members in prison, but they wouldn't talk, Lee Taejin was an , but there was no evidence that indicated he murdered his girlfriend other than the aforementioned point that he was an . Nor was there evidence, for that matter, that Song Ahra herself knew anything of Golden Lotus, or its operations, all that was known was that she was dead, and that her boyfriend was a criminal involved with Golden Lotus, and then Daehyun went back to the beginning to start the circle again.

Across the bank of desks, Youngjae's eyes were focused on his own computer. He'd been quiet that day, and maybe Daehyun wouldn't have noticed his anxiety if it weren't for the way he'd fit his fingernails between his teeth and bit them down, down and even further down until they were red and raw and jagged. Himchan was always so good at stopping him from doing that, but he wasn't there, and Daehyun didn't have any shame in admitting that he missed him.

When their phone call had ended, Daehyun managed to hack into the shipping yard's security system, and blown it up onto the television screens mounted up on the wall and though he had seen them find their way in, he was yet to witness them re-emerging. The southern end of the warehouse was in a blind spot, and no matter how many cameras Daehyun had cycled through, he couldn't find one that got a clear view of it, so he resigned himself to staring at the impeded view he could secure and willing his own anxieties away. He hadn't been so convinced that going in unarmed had been such a good idea, but Himchan wasn't one for taking suggestions when he was determined. Maybe that was also a contributing factor to the madness he was descending towards.

“Your finger is bleeding.” He noticed, while watching Youngjae rip at his nails once again.

The psychologist blinked and looked down, he hadn't realised, “It is.” He replied with genuine surprise.

“You alright?” Daehyun managed to push himself up to stand and stretched his arms over his head while rounding the table to look at the security footage again. No movement, though a light had flickered on deep inside the building.

“Yeah, fine just... Frustrated.” Youngjae sighed and offered Daehyun a weak smile, “Junnie was going to start re-testing her clothes again today. I was thinking I might head down and see if he needs a hand.”

Daehyun glanced at the clock, it was nearly ten and he nodded. He wanted to tell Youngjae to go home but he knew his friend was just as worried about Himchan and Jongup as he was, so he settled with saying: “Alright. I'll stay up here, and keep an eye on the footage.”

“How long have they been in there now?” Youngjae frowned.

“Just over an hour.”

“And they'll call once they're out?” Youngjae sounded hopeful, and Daehyun cracked as reassuring of a smile as he could muster.

“That's the plan.”

Daehyun liked it when they had a plan. He just wished Himchan liked it half as much.

With one pat to Daehyun's shoulder, Youngjae passed him by and to the elevator leaving him alone under the green canopy of the Unit's central room. It got quiet again and Daehyun turned to climb up and sit on Himchan's desk with his feet resting on his chair so he could watch all of the nothing happening on the security cameras.

The warehouse its self was dull and grey, but in the background Daehyun could see the lights of Busan flickering across the bay and the shadows of passing ships heading from their docks out to sail for Japan, or China, or further still. He missed it, more than he would usually admit. It wasn't like he was dissatisfied with his life in Seoul, quite the opposite, but Busan with its sea cliffs and golden sand beaches was home. Never in his life had he considered moving away and leaving it far behind, until a man in black came to visit him at the Busan Police Academy before he even realised his own value, and made him an offer so good he couldn't resist.

Across the room the door clicked, and Daehyun turned from the security footage for just long enough to see Yongguk emerging. He had been wearing a black suit that morning, similar to the one he'd worn that morning down south when they first met, but sometime through the day he'd lost his blazer, then his tie and the top of his shirt was ed just enough that Daehyun could see the top of his elaborate floral tattoo peeking out. He'd asked about it once, and Yongguk told him his sister had done it. She was a tattoo artist, she did all of his work.

“It's late.” Yongguk greeted as he came over towards the desks.

“It is.” Daehyun agreed.

“You should go home.” There was a warmth in Yongguk's voice that made Daehyun crack a small smile and he shrugged, then gestured to the tv screens when Yongguk stopped and leant beside him.

“I'm watching this. Plus, Jae stayed last night, so I'll hold down the fort tonight.”

Yongguk sighed, “I don't like it when you sleep here, unless it's absolutely necessary.”

The comment had Daehyun turning to glance at the Director with raised eyebrows, “I liked the tie you wore today. Reminded me of the one you keep in your locker for when you stay the night and need a change of clothes. Funny that.”

“Touché.” Yongguk snorted and their focus returned to the security footage. Nothing was happening, and Daehyun was growing more and more unsettled about that blind spot.

“At least we sleep in the break room, instead of the morgue.” It had always weirded Daehyun out that Junhong slept in his labs. He couldn't think of how it would be possible to get a good rest when there were dead bodies literally like right there. The whole thing gave him the absolute creeps.

“Junhong likes it. Says he works better in a place he's comfortable in, and he could practically live in that lab if I'd let him.” Yongguk pursed his lips, “More than once I've considered setting a curfew on this place to get the lot of you to leave.”

Daehyun laughed, “Let me guess, Himchan-hyung called you a hypocrite?”

“Something like that.” Yongguk shifted against the table and his back pushed at a stack of paper causing him to turn his head around to gaze across the mountains of folders they had piling up over what he was sure had once been Himchan and Jongup's desks, “Anything particularly enlightening coming out?”

“No.” Daehyun sighed and rubbed a hand across his forehead, “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

“These are the witness statements, correct?” Yongguk clarified while flipping open a yellow manila folder and glancing over the page. It was the transcript of an interview with a woman, the mother of someone Golden Lotus had killed sometime after the fall of the dictatorship in the eighties.

“Witness statements, yes, and prison interviews with known gang members, reports of newer criminal activities that can be linked to Golden Lotus, old cold cases of past murders. And nothing.” Daehyun turned to glare at the offending documents, “They all feel... Wrong. Lee Taejin is only mentioned a handful of times, and Song Ahra not even once.”

“You still think she knew something?” Yongguk glanced up.

“Surely she had to. If he was in Seoul looking into opening more clubs for Golden Lotus like The Rook, surely she would had to have known something. If she was killed to be silenced, it would explain the stitching across .” It was frustrating beyond belief, to have so many folders of nothing piled up around them. The warehouse had been a relief to find, but with a glance back to the security cameras, Daehyun wondered if letting them follow that lead had been a terrible idea.

“What about those clubs?”

Daehyun turned back and shrugged one shoulder, “Nothing came of them. It looks like they came close to opening one, but Lee moved back to Busan with the victim before it could. It all just doesn't add up, the missing DNA, the lack of information on either of them. We're going around in circles!”

“People like Lee Taejin survive off of plausible deniability. It makes sense that he isn't mentioned, because orders would never come from him, they would come from someone else, someone who he would trust to never implicate him in anything.” Yongguk waved his hand through the air as he spoke, though his eyes remained on the papers in his hand.

“So if he killed the victim...” Daehyun prompted and Yongguk sighed.

“If he wanted to kill the victim, he would have had someone else do it.”

“Wow great guy.” Daehyun replied drily.

Yongguk's expression was dark and his eyes filled with concern and contemplation, “We just need to pinpoint what his motive would be.”

“Himchan would have an idea.”

The statement made the Director blink and lift his head. Maybe it was the time of day, maybe the lighting, but Daehyun suddenly looked exhausted, with bags under his eyes and newly set creases in his forehead.

“He probably would.” Yongguk agreed, “But just because he is good at his job, doesn't mean you're not good at yours.”

Yongguk's hand lifted and he gently scuffed Daehyun on the chin, then rubbed at his hair causing him to groan and try and dodge the affection, “I lost a body, not many people can top that.” He said sarcastically.

“Whoever took that body did it intentionally, and planned it. If you hadn't have left that room, you or someone else could have been hurt.” The reply was suddenly more serious and Daehyun frowned, he hadn't thought of that.

“Yes but-” He started, though movement out of the corner of his eye distracted him and he turned from Yongguk to again look at the footage. The lights in the stomach of the warehouse had gone dim and from the blindspot at the left of the screen, a white truck was emerging and stopping out front.

“Did you see that truck go in?” Yongguk asked, and Daehyun shook his head.

“No... It must have already been there.”

The door on the side of the building shook and trembled, then slammed open and a group in black emerged. Their faces were partly covered with black face masks, like people wore if they were sick, and Daehyun wondered if they knew they were on camera. Three came out first, but Daehyun's heart stopped when a fourth followed, guiding a man with his hands secured behind his back and a bag over his head.

“That's Jongup-” He said.

Jongup was loaded into the back of the van, and three more people left the building, supporting the limp weight of another between them. Himchan's arms were secured just as tightly it looked like, and his head was bagged all the same, but while Jongup had been pushed into the truck, he was thrown in like a rag doll then the door slammed closed, and the truck pulled away.

“!”

Daehyun launched himself off from the desk and landed back into his chair behind the open lid of his laptop as the vehicle disappeared from frame.

“Did you see a company name?” He asked while his eyebrows furrowed low over his eyes.

“No. The sides were blank.” Yongguk shook his head.

The sound of tapping filled the room and Daehyun's fingers danced across his keyboard, trying to search his way through neighbouring security cameras to follow the truck along its route. He didn't even notice that Yongguk had called the labs until the elevator doors were dinging open, and Junhong and Youngjae were rushing down the stairs.

“What happened?” Junhong asked as he and Youngjae rounded the desks to look at the screen over Daehyun's shoulder. He'd managed to follow the vehicle across the shipping yard, but it was heading for a main road and they couldn't lose it.

“They've been caught,” Yongguk replied to the doctor, and Youngjae quickly grabbed his phone and dialled Himchan's number from memory. The sound of the ringing felt like it was reverberating the whole way through his skull as he watched Daehyun punching codes into the keyboard searching desperately through cyberspace for access to the next camera grid.

The screen had gone black, and white codes were streaming across it, nothing but a mess of letters and numbers for anyone but their resident computer guy. Youngjae slammed the phone down, it had rung out.

“Where's Jongup's number?” He asked while trying to sort his way through the papers across his desk, he knew he had it, but he'd left his phone in the lab.

“Dae?” Yongguk placed a hand on his shoulder, the truck would be on the road by then, they were running out of time.

“Almost there...” He said, his face tense as his eyes sorted their way through the security coding until finally with the tap of a final button, a mosaic of live footage spread across his screen. There were roads, parking lots, petrol stations and shopping strips, all teaming with people and cars going in every direction.

All eyes searched from one tile to the next, desperate to recognise a face, a vehicle, anything at all.

“Can you see it? Is it there?” Junhong asked anxiously, while holding his casted arm close in against his chest.

Daehyun slammed his fist down on the table and pushed his chair back forcefully from the desk. He rose and left the room, slamming the door to the break room behind him.

“No.” Yongguk replied instead, “We lost it.”

*

When Himchan woke up his head was pounding so hard that the whole world felt like it was rocking. Light was filtering through to his barely open eyes and it made his stomach lurch so violently he had to close them as tight as he could while he convinced his stomach to keep its contents down.

A rumble came from under him, then another sway and he realised the world wasn't rocking, he was moving.

He snapped open his eyes, but groaned as the pounding in his head intensified under the stark white light above his head and he attempted to reach up to cradle his skull but his hands couldn't move. They were bound behind his back. He groaned again.

“Hyung?” Jongup asked, not far away. From Himchan's brilliant and faultless internal compass he estimated he was about... a metre directly in front, but he wasn't quite willing to attempt to open his eyes a second time, so he was satisfied with his guess.

“I'm alright.” He lied and wrinkled his nose.

“Your face is telling me you're not.” Jongup replied. Himchan would think he was being a smart if his voice hadn't been so serious.

“Yeah well...” He tried, but he had nothing.

Instead, he focused on his hands, the binds around them were tight, thin and he confirmed pretty quickly they were zip ties, fastened almost up to the wrist. A brush of his fingers also showed him that they were wrapped around some kind of bar built vertically along the wall of the vehicle, keeping him upright and secure, but also giving him a point of pressure. Struggling would only cause the ties to tighten, so he relaxed back in closer to the wall and ignored his head to let his hands go lax. Slowly, he started to twist his wrists against one another which put tension on the securing plastic mechanism where it pulled against the metal frame. His blood supply wouldn't take too long to cut off, and he could already feel his pulse in his palms, then in his fingers and his jaw tightened in concentration until finally, the tension snapped and his hands were free.

He hissed and pulled them up to rub at the dents the ties had left with his fingers, while making a gallant second attempt at opening his eyes, “Just give me a second and I'll come get yours.” He murmured while blinking slowly. The pounding in his head wasn't so bad by then, and the light felt less oppressive and only a moment later he felt steady enough to look at Jongup, who was holding his hands up and wiggling his fingers.

“Beat you.” He said with a crooked grin.

Himchan rolled his eyes, then started about surveying their enclosure.

“What happened?” He asked. Jongup watched Himchan rise up from the bench he was seated on and braced his hand against the wall of the truck so he could feel his way around it. The walls were thick and stabilised by a row of the bars they had each been secured to, while another three were fastened along the roof.

“After they knocked you out some more of them came. I couldn't see them, they put a bag over my head.” Jongup explained about the woman who had known their ID cards were fake as soon as she had seen them, and Himchan gave him an unsettled look.

“And you know her from somewhere?” He asked and Jongup shrugged.

“I can't figure out where but I've definitely heard her voice before.” He sighed and rubbed at his own cheek. Where he'd taken the punch was blossoming into a blue bruise surrounded by red swelling and he gingerly pressed his fingertips around it in the hopes of figuring out the extent of the injury.

“How long have we been moving?” Himchan asked next. The vehicle rocked, and Himchan reached up to hold onto one of the bars on the roof to keep himself steady, while coming to the conclusion that it was a refrigerated truck probably originally purposed for transporting meat. The benches built into each long wall were added in later, just planks of wood fastened in with metal bolts and plating, and the white walls were stained with yellow and brown marks.

“A while. Over an hour at least, maybe nearing two. I tried to memorise the turns we were making at first, but it just felt like we were going around in circles until we were on a freeway. We could be going anywhere, Mokpo, Gwangju, even back to Seoul.” He sighed and rest his head back against the wall.

“Why would Golden Lotus want to take us to Seoul?” Himchan asked and Jongup shrugged.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

Outside a horn blared and Himchan lurched forward to push at the back door with his hand. It rattled, probably bolted from the outside, but judging from the way it moved he wondered if he kicked it hard enough, it might burst.

“What are you doing?” Jongup was rising to join him near the door.

“Wondering how hard I'd need to kick it to get it open.” Himchan replied honestly.

“Are you insane?” Jongup balked, while reaching out a hand to steady himself against Himchan's bicep as the truck went over a particularly uneven stretch of road.

“You think waiting to end up wherever they take us is a better idea?” Himchan nudged at the door again, then looked around for something they could pry the benches from the wall with. He may need a battering ram.

Jongup shook his head, “I think we'd probably have a better chance of survival than jumping out onto a crowded freeway at 120 kilometres an hour, yeah.”

“Fair point.” Himchan nodded and pulled back a little further. The truck was starting to slow, and he looked up and around again, trying to find anything they could use to their advantage. The zip ties were broken, and it would take a little more than brute strength to dislodge the bolts fastening down the benches.

“If we stand either side of the door we'll have an advantage. Whoever is going to climb in here will have to come head first, and they still think we're tied up. I'll take them out, and you get ready for whoever follows.” Jongup suggested.

“And weapons?” Himchan asked. The truck turned, and he gripped on to the wall frame to keep himself upright, they may not have much time.

“Let's hope they have some we can take.” Jongup replied.

“This is crazy.” Himchan said, with a brightness in his eyes that could only be attributed to adrenaline, “You're lucky I trust you.”

Jongup paused for a moment, but Himchan was too distracted to notice the way he stared. The truck had stopped, and soon beeps began to echo as it backed in towards their fate.

“Hey.” Jongup said, and Himchan glanced to his face again. He didn't look scared, and Himchan appreciated that. He hoped he didn't, either.

A door opened and slammed shut, then the sound of voices followed and Jongup leant forward to pull Himchan into a kiss, firm and brief but comforting all the same. Himchan chased him when he pulled back and caught him again for a second.

“You ready?” He asked when he released him, this time with his lips curved into a crooked smile.

“Nope.” Jongup replied.

Himchan laughed, “Neither.” And they got into position.

When the doors flew open, neither of them really knew what to expect and as they lurched forward to put their plan into violent action they paused when they were faced with a wide open garage filled with men and women dressed in neatly pressed black suits, all of whom held guns. Jongup tensed and raised his arms, Himchan followed him a second later. A quick glance around confirmed there were ten of them in total positioned around the garage, maybe more concealed out of their line of sight against the body of the truck.

Granted either way, it wasn't going to be an easy fight.

“Arms down.” Came a voice that had Himchan's stomach lurching all over again.

Guns were lowered and the Suits parted aside to allow someone else through. He was tall, with black hair and a neat suit, and a self assured smirk that looked all wrong sitting on Yongguk's face.

“Good morning” Bang Yongnam greeted as he stopped a few metres from the mouth of the truck, “Welcome to the NIS.”