The call came not ten minutes after they returned to the hotel. It was Youngjae's name that flashed across Himchan's screen, and when he answered he tucked his phone between his shoulder and ear while flicking through the pages of the file on Lee Taejin.

“Hey.” He greeted, “We just got back from interviewing the boyfriend. He knows more than he lets off, and from the amount of security guards and cameras he has around his house, Song sounds right in her suspicions he's involved with Golden Lotus.”

“Hyung...” Youngjae replied a moment later, and Himchan set the folder down onto the bed. Something was wrong.

“What's happened?” The tension in his voice must have been obvious, because Jongup looked up from his own computer screen and frowned.

“It's Junhong. Some people turned up when he was examining the car. He's... Hyung they beat him up, and set the car on fire.”

Himchan ran his hand over his face, then up through his hair, “- !” In one fluid movement, he knocked the file from the edge of the mattress, sending papers flying onto the floor, “How badly is he hurt?”

“He's okay. Mostly just bruising, cuts and scratches from the pavement. His arm is broken, though, he said one of them stepped on it.” Youngjae sighed, “Daehyun heard him screaming, but Jun said it all happened really quick. Uniform didn't have time to react until the guys were already running away. They must have been nearby, though, to know the car had been found.”

“This is my fault.” Himchan clenched his jaw, “I told Lee Taejin the car had been found. I taunted him and this is him calling me out on it.”

Youngjae was silent for a moment, then he cleared his throat, “Yongguk's gonna be pissed.”

“I know.”

Soon, the call ended and Himchan paced back and forth in the confined space of their small room. Jongup was watching, seated crossed legged on the bed with his laptop balanced on his knees, only his eyes moving to follow each movement.

“Bad news?” He prompted.

Himchan relayed the message Youngjae had given him, and Jongup remained calm and thoughtful. He set his laptop aside and leant back on one arm while his brows furrowed over his eyes.

“He knows you'll know that he sent those people.” He said, but Himchan shook his head.

“He also knows me knowing isn't good for anything. We have no evidence of that, he'd just claim it's a coincidence.”

“I know, I'm not talking about evidence.” Jongup waved the thought aside and swung his legs off the edge of the bed, “My point is he knows you'll know, but he is confident enough to think you can't do anything about it.”

“So?” Himchan asked impatiently.

“He's cocky and he's arrogant, he is going to slip up eventually if we wait, and I think I know just the place to go to do exactly that.” Jongup turned the laptop around, it was open on a document and Himchan stepped closer to read the print, “Golden Lotus has been connected to a night club on the waterfront, The Rook. It's big, built in some kind of converted warehouse beside one of the shipping yards not far from here. Apparently they use it for all their networking, plus I can imagine it'd be useful for laundering. If Lee is involved with them to the extent that Song alleges, he'll spend a lot of his time there.”

Another call came through, this time from Yongguk, “I need to take this.” Himchan said, and Jongup quirked a half smile.

“I'll find the address.”

*

It was late when they finally stepped out from their hotel room hideaway. Jongup hadn't taken long to find the club's address, but they had waited off until they knew it would be busy, so they could together disappear into the crowds of people. Himchan doubted they'd be recognised even if they did draw attention, but he wasn't really into the idea of taking that chance.

It wasn't snowing, but there was a thin layer of ice forming on the car's windscreen when the engine roared to life, and their breath came out in billowing clouds even as the car's heating blew onto their frozen faces. Jongup rubbed his hands together in front of the vent, while Himchan tapped a rhythm again on the steering wheel.

“What's the song?” Jongup asked.

Himchan shrugged, “I can't remember anymore.”

They parked a little way down the street from The Rook, behind a couple of parked lorries used to transport containers from the ships, and walked the rest of the way. It was darker there, but they could already hear the thumping sound of nearby music, so loud it almost made the pooled water in dips on the road tremble and shake with its beat. Up ahead, two bouncers were stationed out front, under a red neon sign that had no words, only the illustrated outline of a bird's head equipped with the long hooked beak of a Rook.

“Here it goes.” Himchan said.

They made it into the club without issue, and took in the sight before them. It was wide and open, with a bustling dance floor placed between them and the bar stretched along the back wall and pillars dotted throughout supporting the balcony up above that wrapped around the building's perimeters leaving the middle open so those leaning against the banister could look down on the dancing below. The lights had been dimmed, but bright colours flashed in time to the music while the mass of bodies moved as one.

Himchan turned his head and watched Jongup watching the crowd. His expression was blank, or guarded, or whatever it always was, though he guessed his mind was probably working fast as it calculated the space around them.

“Come on.” Himchan interrupted those thoughts that were probably there, “I'll get you a drink.”

“I don't drink when I'm working.” Jongup replied, and turned his head a fraction towards Himchan.

“Nor do you smile, apparently.”

For a beat, Jongup just looked at him, then his lips twitched into, well... Something at least. He didn't respond, he just followed Himchan as he started pushing his way through the crowd. People parted ways, then folded back into them and they kept losing sight of one another only to end up shoulder to shoulder again. When they made it to the bar, Jongup turned away from Himchan while he ordered and scanned the room instead.

“Gin and tonic please, and a lemonade for this one.” Himchan gestured with his thumb over his shoulder to Jongup. The barman lifted his gaze to where Jongup stood, and Himchan gave his best charming grin, “He's driving.”

If Himchan noticed the way Jongup rolled his eyes, he didn't say anything, he just turned around and handed him the glass while following his gaze around the room.

“See anything?” He asked, then took a sip of his drink.

“No, but I'd like to know what's happening up on the balcony.”

Both of them glanced up. From under the awning, not a lot was visible, just the outline of a banister, and a few curious faces peering down over it to the dancing. It was crowded down where they were, too much so for much business to take place, and Himchan and Jongup both knew if this establishment was used for anything less than reputable, upstairs would be where it happened.

“Come on.” Himchan only had time for another sip when Jongup was taking his glass from his hand and setting it down on the bar again, “Dance with me.”

Himchan'd had a couple ideas of where that night was going to lead, most of them following along the lines of upmost professionalism, and none of which involved Jongup taking his hand and guiding him confidently through a crowd of people onto the dance floor. His hands were guided to Jongup's waist, while arms wound around his neck and brought him in closer. The whole thing would probably have been more romantic if Jongup didn't seem so determined to look anywhere in the vicinity other than Himchan. Not that Himchan needed him to be looking but surely that was some kind of courtesy when two people were pressed together the way they were.

A young woman pushed through the crowd behind Jongup, forcing their bodies impossibly closer, and Himchan found his eyes had been fixed to a little patch of exposed skin just below Jongup's ear. He wasn't sure what had him so transfixed, but his hair there was short, and the club's dim light was casting a sharp shadow down from his jawbone. Without thinking about all that aforementioned professionalism, he leant forward towards it.

“See anything?” He asked again, trying not to notice the way his lips brushed over the skin, or how the ends of his hair tickled his nose.

“Not yet.” Jongup replied, and shifted to turn them around so he could look around the balcony while his body swayed and rocked in time to the thumping beat. He moved like a natural, and Himchan's hands slid comfortably along his waist to the small of his back where he could feel each muscle twitching and twisting under the skin.

“You never mentioned you can dance.” Jongup's spine arched and rolled, his whole torso pressed in so close to Himchan's that the detective could feel sweat beading beneath his shirt from the heat of him.

“You never asked.” The voice came right into his ear, and Himchan turned into it as the palm of his hand traced up Jongup's spine, one vertebrae at a time. He thought he could feel every single one of them moving, embraced by taught muscle and stretching skin, like poetry in his hands.

He chuckled, “Not really a common question.” He noted while Jongup's fingers ghosted across the back of his neck, making him shiver.

“We don't know one another very well.” Jongup added, with a laugh of his own that was soft and breathy. Himchan closed his eyes.

“No.” He said, “We don't.”

The music was so loud that Himchan thought he could feel it in his veins and he knew it was probably likely to be ringing in his ears well into the next day but he did his best to ignore it while his eyes scanned the crowds around them, and Jongup's did the same over the balcony up above. This time, when Jongup spoke into his ear, his voice was serious.

“Seven o'clock up on the mezzanine.” He said, already moving around to guide Himchan to where he could see. His gaze rose up and scanned across faces, until it found a familiar one. Lee Taejin was leaning against the banister with a drink in one hand while he gazed out over the mass of bodies moving below. He was surrounded, as Himchan guessed could be expected, two burly security guards flanking a group of men and women, all chatting amongst themselves.

“Lee.” Himchan said with a frown and Jongup nodded.

“Yes, and look who is beside him.” He said, while glancing sidelong at Himchan's face.

The detective squinted against the flashing lights and scanned over the other faces, he didn't recognise any of them until Lee Taejin turned to speak to a man off to his right, who said something in response, then bowed low. It took Himchan a fraction of a second to realise where he'd seen that face before until it clicked and he remembered the man who had been watching them in the forest, the morning Song Ahra's body had been found.

“How interesting.” Himchan stated while watching the man disappear into the crowd, “He's on the move.”

“Let's go.”

They made it free of the dancing crowd just in time to watch their forest shadow come down the stairs and make for the door with three others, one a man, two women and all looking formidable at best. At the door they collected their coats and stepped back out onto the street where they turned left towards the docks.

Jongup was itching to follow, but Himchan pulled away and stopped at the front counter, presenting the attendant behind it with their cloak room tags, “Just getting our coats.” He smiled charmingly, while Jongup gazed intently after Lee's men. Every moment they stalled was a moment they were getting away, Winter or not.

“Did you enjoy your evening?” The attendant asked, looking at Jongup's intense gaze with something a little too close to suspicion.

“Oh yeah heaps.” Himchan nodded and wrapped his arm around Jongup's middle, jostling him just enough as he pulled him closer to his side to bring his eyes forward again, “Isn't that right, Sweetheart?”

“Sure.” Jongup replied, with a forced smile of his own.

They took their coats from the curious man, and stepped out into the cold. Himchan rubbed his hands together once they were safely back in his gloves, Jongup did his buttons up right to his chin and together they went left, following their targets.

“Sweetheart?” Jongup asked, as they fell into step beside one another.

“He was suspicious. We look less like cops if we're on a date.” Himchan replied.

For the second time that night, the corner of Jongup's lips twitched upwards, “Well for next time, I prefer 'Baby.' Sweetheart makes us both sound old.”

It didn't take long for them to catch up to Lee's men. Within a hundred metres of The Rook, the streets gave way to long lanes of shipping crates, stacked in neat regiments on top of one another. Large cranes towered over them at the edge, and the intermittent, stark lights sent long shadows over the patchwork patterns of mustard yellow, rusty red, ocean blue and forest green metal. The group they followed were out of earshot, but neither Himchan or Jongup were too fussed about that, at least one had seen them before and they couldn't risk getting close enough to be recognised.

With a brush of his hand against Jongup's elbow, Himchan lead them around a high stack of crates and into the next alleyway over. The Rook's thumping music and massing crowds were far enough away that the sound was hardly anything but background music, mixing with the rhythm of lapping water and the slap of their footsteps against the wet ground. There were very few places to hide if one of Lee's men were to cast a glance over their shoulder.

Jongup reached his hand out and ran it along the side of a red shipping crate. The metal was cold, so much so that it almost burned to touch it, but he liked the feeling of the rough metal under his skin, feeling for where the paint was cracking and peeling away from the rusting wall beneath. These crates could have come off ships from anywhere, carrying anything, and from the outside there was no way of knowing what was hidden within. He wondered where they came from, whether it was China or Japan, maybe somewhere south like Australia, or as far as the Gulf states in the west. Golden Lotus was importing something, the mystery lay in what.

They turned a corner and headed East to where they could see rows of container ships docked in the distance, like colossal monsters on the horizon. Their black hulls almost blended into the night sky, if it weren't for the flashing lights radiating from atop their mammoth towers, and the strip of red painted around their base, where their bodies met the water. Assembled neatly in rows, it looked like a graveyard, and for a moment, Himchan found himself wondering if it was.

Up ahead, docked not too far away was a much smaller ship. Warm light was spilling from its cabin, and it swayed from side to side in the chopping water while a man stepped out onto the deck and beckoned the four aboard. Himchan and Jongup watched as he presented the group with a box, opening the lid for them to inspect, then shutting it when the forest shadow nodded his head. Someone made a gesture that couldn't be seen from where they stood, and soon there was movement as several others emerged from inside, each carrying boxes in their arms.

“What are they transporting?” Himchan asked, not expecting an answer. He ducked down low and moved with his shoulder brushing alongside the container and Jongup hot on his heels until they stood less than a hundred metres from where the boxes were being piled on the dock. On closer inspection, they weren't boxes at all but small wooden crates nailed shut at their top. Himchan leant forward and inched just that little bit further, to try and read the writing printed on the side, but the movement wasn't slow enough, and Jongup's stomach dropped as he saw a man on the ship pause as he looked towards them, then point in their direction.

“Himchan-” Jongup said and reached his hand out to grab his bicep as one by one everyone on the ship turned to face them.

“Run!”

As soon as they turned, Jongup heard shouting and not even a moment later, Lee's men were in pursuit. He could hear Himchan not far behind him as he sprinted along the concrete, trying to remember the route they'd come. The lanes were all blending into one as they twisted and turned, trying to retrace their steps, but each corner slowed them down until all of a sudden three of Lee's men were on them.

Jongup turned to dodge a punch aimed at his head and managed to sail a kick hard into a strongly built man's side, sending him toppling over onto the concrete. When he turned again, a woman came at him fast, but Himchan flipped his own assailant over in front of her and she tripped before either man had to engage.

“Watch out!” Jongup called just in time to see the second woman slam hard into Himchan's side from a run, knocking him off his feet and skidding on his side across the pavement. He didn't cry out, but Jongup saw the pain in his expression, and as she turned her back on him to rush Himchan again, he grabbed her shoulder and hooked his right leg around her left to knock her off her feet while breaking her arm on the way down. More footsteps were coming, they didn't have time to think, and so Jongup grabbed Himchan and hauled him to his feet and they were off again.

Voices called out, Jongup guessed more of Lee's men had found their injured colleagues, but he didn't look back. In only a few turns they made it onto the road again to where the car was, still hidden behind the lorries.

“Are you hurt?” Jongup asked as Himchan unlocked the doors. He had a hand pressed against his side below his shirt, and when he pulled it free Jongup saw a smear of blood. He grimaced, “I'll drive.”

Thankfully, Himchan didn't protest and within a few moments they were speeding towards the main road. Jongup glanced repeatedly in the rear vision mirror, checking for movement behind them while Himchan pressed his hand down gingerly against his side. Out of the corner of his eye, Jongup saw lights, and a slight glance past Himchan confirmed a car was coming towards them.

“Nothing is ever simple.” Himchan groaned as he lifted his free hand up to grip the handle bar positioned above the window, and Jongup couldn't help but smile.

He pressed his foot hard down on the accelerator while both hands gripped the wheel, desperate to shake off the bigger vehicle as it pulled in behind them, but the lanes were narrow, there wasn't much of an escape. A series of loud pops came, and with another glance, Jongup saw the gun as it came out of the trailing vehicle's passenger window, until a bullet smashed the wing mirror.

Himchan cursed colourfully and ducked down low as another smashed the rear windscreen, but Jongup didn't let up. They were getting closer to the intersection with the main road, it was only a matter of seconds. What Lee could get away in the secluded yard would cause chaos on the city streets, and not even he was powerful enough to take the risk of his men getting captured.

“Jongup-” Himchan said. The light ahead of them went from red to green, but it was too far, they weren't going to make it. Rows of cars were waiting their turn to cross in front of the mouth of the laneway, they were going to get cut off, with their pursuers right behind them, “Jongup-” Himchan said again, more tense this time. He needed to slow down, but he was accelerating.

It was only two hundred metres, a hundred and fifty, one hundred, less and right as the light turned red, Jongup blitzed the car through across the intersection and past the waiting traffic that lurched into movement the second they were clear. A series of horns blew, but with one glance over his shoulder, Himchan realised they made it, and Lee's men had been cut off. He slumped back in his seat and closed his eyes.

“.” Jongup couldn't help but laugh.

*

They dumped the car a kilometre away from the hotel and walked the rest of the way. Even if Lee's people didn't catch the plates, the smashed out windscreen and bullet pierced wing mirror were easily recognisable and they both agreed they'd taken too many risks already that night.

Adrenaline was thumping hard through Himchan as he closed the room's curtains and tossed his wet overcoat down onto the armchair, “Whatever was in those boxes, they didn't want us to know they had them.” He said, and winced as he touched his side again.

“Sit down, and take your shirt off.” Jongup instructed. He had a way of talking that didn't give room for argument, even though he was so softly spoken and Himchan did as he was told.

Jongup discarded his own coat and rummaged through his suitcase to emerge with a first aid kit, then lay it out on the bed and rolled up his sleeves. The graze across Himchan's side wasn't too deep, thankfully, but more than enough blood was seeping from the lacerations smudged with dirt and embedded with a few fragments of gravel. The ex-soldier was stoic and didn't seem to mind as Jongup carefully began picking them from his open wound.

“Junhong'd probably be doing this better.” Jongup commented to break the silence.

Himchan snorted and leant back on both arms, “His bedside manner is kind of lacking. He's used to his patients being dead.”

“He's pretty amazing to be where he is at his age.” Jongup dropped a small stone onto a section of the bedspread. A drip of blood seeped into the fabric and crept its way up the thread, creating an abstract pattern.

“He's more than amazing.” Himchan closed his eyes, he figured it was better not to look, “He was in medical school by fourteen, graduated by eighteen. He's a complete genius.”

There was a familial warmth in Himchan's voice, and when Jongup looked he could see the corners of his lips had twitched into an involuntary smile. He was proud of the doctor, as Jongup was sure anyone would be. “Did you meet him in the army?” He asked.

“No.” Himchan opened his eyes again, “Junhong doesn't need to do his service, he isn't a citizen of Korea.”

At this Jongup blinked and glanced up at him. The expression was a question in its self, and Himchan continued, “He's Canadian, adopted by a Canadian couple out of an orphanage in Mokpo as a baby. He grew up in Toronto, then moved to study medicine at Oxford in the UK. If you think his Korean is good, you should hear him speaking French.”

“How'd he end up in the Unit?” Jongup set the tweezers aside and soaked a cotton pad in antiseptic. Himchan hissed when it was pressed to the split skin, but didn't resist its burn.

“The same way any of us did. Yongguk.”

Jongup used medical tape to adhere layers of gauze across Himchan's wound. The bleeding had stopped, but tomorrow they'd see the full extent of the bruising, and Jongup doubted it would be pretty. They both washed up and changed clothes, and all of a sudden the adrenaline was fading and exhaustion was starting to set in.

“I'll call HQ in the morning.” Himchan rubbed a hand over his face while Jongup lay back across the mattress. It was late, well after midnight, and Himchan started gathering the parts for his improvised bed on the floor.

“You're hurt.” Jongup said and struggled to push himself upright. His arms were starting to feel unsteady, and his eyes heavy, “You take the bed.”

Himchan stopped and looked at the wide mattress, and Jongup slowly losing consciousness atop it.

“There's room for us both.” He decided, and dropped to lay back at Jongup's side. In the dark, neither had the energy to think about the proximity and the last thing Himchan remembered before he fell asleep was the rhythm of Jongup's breathing, and the warmth of a body pressed against him.