Chanyeol doesn’t really have to think after that. It comes naturally, like breathing. He remembers learning in school — which, undeniably feels like a long time ago — that people can respond to danger in two ways: fight, or flight. Therefore, it is purely in his instinctive nature to punch Baekhyun cleanly off his feet and grab him by the collar, gun to the man’s chest. Surprisingly, Baekhyun lets him, standing limply where he is, the small smile on his face irritating Chanyeol most of all. Even though he knows that Baekhyun is aggravating him on purpose, he gives in and throws all of Baekhyun’s weight against the side of the drop ship, the latter not even making a sound as he crumbles onto the floor.

“Park!” Jongdae grits his teeth in agony from a fruitless attempt to get up. “Stop!” 

“Hey, just hold a gun to his head, alright?” Kyungsoo yells from the cockpit. “No fighting in my ship!” 

That infuriating smile doesn’t leave Baekhyun’s bruised and bloody lips, as he laughs. “Trying to get back at me, huh, Park?” He says Chanyeol’s codename like a secret he isn’t supposed to know, only serving to antagonise Chanyeol more. “Do your very worst.” 

He is rewarded with another two punches to the face. “If what Suho says is true,” Chanyeol growls, everything falling into deaf ears. “He should be blacklisted by the NIS. He’s a threat to the organisation.” 

It is appalling, really, that they had let a major threat of the NIS into, well, NIS property. Was this Baekhyun’s plan all along? Did he know about the mission and purposely compromised himself just to infiltrate into their flanks? What’s even stranger is that he doesn’t recall seeing Baekhyun’s name or face on the NIS’ blacklist. During his training as an agent, all trainees were required to memorise the blacklist as if it were their holy grail. Every month from his first day of work he pours over the numbers, each face vividly etched in his mind. So is demanded of all NIS agents. And every month, the list updates itself. The fact that no one else but Junmyeon recognised who Baekhyun was meant that he isn’t being hunted down from the NIS at all, for a crime that was supposed to end his life as soon as he pointed a firearm at a member of the board. 

His thoughts are echoed by a wheezing Jongdae, who has solely given up on everyone else around him, and starts to stitch his wound himself. “But he isn’t on the blacklist, Park. All of us should know that.” 

It doesn’t matter. Junmyeon has no reason to lie. He is about to beat Baekhyun bloodier than he already is when Junmyeon interrupts him. “Agent Park,” he mutters suddenly, deep in thought. “Report Byun Baekhyun’s involvement in the mission.” 

“Met him at Jongin’s party. He figured out I had ulterior motives and attacked me in the restroom. Said he didn’t kill me earlier because he wanted answers about the assassins trying to eliminate Kim Jongin.” 

“And how did you get to know his name?” 

Chanyeol pauses, and frowns. “While I was still undercover, he already introduced himself as Baekhyun.” 

Baekhyun does not flinch as they continue to talk about him, his mouth set into a permanent scowl. It seemed as if he was always serious unless he wanted to provoke Chanyeol’s easily bruised pride. Even then, the empty vessels of his eyes suggest there might be more bite in his bark than he lets himself show. He is an enigma of a man; it is almost impossible to guess what he is really thinking, or really, who the man actually is. The truth is out now, Chanyeol tells himself. But is that all there is to it? 

Junmyeon tilts his head, clicking his tongue. “He isn’t hiding his identity. Only a straight up fool on the run from the NIS would not protect his identity.” he glances at Baekhyun wryly. “And Byun Baekhyun is no fool.” 

“Then how do you know him?” Chanyeol asks. 

“He was a fellow trainee when I was training at the NIS. We even worked on a number of missions together after that. I…” Junmyeon looked considerably troubled, scratching his nape. “Everyone in the organisation knew of Baekhyun’s crime, but only after he suddenly disappeared. The higher-ups told us that the case was Code BLACK; classified and untouchable, which was why no one could even speak of it. The fact that he did not appear on the subsequent blacklist was proof that the NIS had eliminated all his files and evidence of his work here.” 

“So he went poof? Just like that?” Jongdae murmurs, incredulous. “How long ago was that?”

“Right before you guys became trainees.” Junmyeon says quietly. “But he’s the same age as you and Park, y’know.” 

Wow, so he is a prodigy child; becoming a full-fledged NIS agent is undoubtedly an incredible feat. Chanyeol stares bluntly at the mess of Byun Baekhyun who lies crouched up at the corner, a glaze in his eyes suggesting he was not listening to their conversation about him at all. The man absentmindedly wipes a streak of blood pooling slowly at the corner of his mouth, eyes suddenly flicking upwards as if to catch Chanyeol looking his way. There is no way we are the same age, Chanyeol thinks bitterly. 

He holds Baekhyun’s gaze, muttering coldly, “you killed a higher-up when you were just nineteen. How much more arrogant can you get?” 

Baekhyun scowls, for the first time in the drop ship, Chanyeol swears he shows the very first signs of real emotion. Annoyance. “You really believe everything as you see it, Park.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Chanyeol challenges, irked, standing up straight with clenched fists. “The way I see it, you are the only one here who jeopardised our country’s security.” 

“And that’s the thing about the NIS,” Baekhyun says quietly, as Chanyeol towers over him, a stormy expression clouding his face. “They give you the illusion that good and bad is black and white. It makes doing the job simpler. To ignore the gnawing feeling at your fingertips every time you take another life.” He looks at Chanyeol like he knows the insides and outs of his soul. Chanyeol is forced to look away in a surge of what he can’t define as guilt or cold anger. Men like you are hard to find nowadays, my friend. Yixing’s voice drafts in, misty and haunting. He has to look away — because in Baekhyun’s eyes, Chanyeol sees himself. And he finds himself hating it; despising how Baekhyun holds an edge above him, always being a step ahead, always knowing more than Chanyeol would like him to know. He especially hates the way Baekhyun looks down at him from below. A mystery man that had gone from seducing him at a party to exposing his secrets aloud. It infuriates him immensely. 

“And what makes you think I won’t take your life right here?” Chanyeol replies, as eerily quiet. Jongdae starts with another ‘Park…’, but Chanyeol shrugs it off, kneeling down to press the gun against Baekhyun’s chest. “You’re talking to someone who would have great pleasure in doing it.” 

The tension thickens, Jongdae and Kyungsoo exchange glances worriedly. They know that Chanyeol can be dangerously impulsive. Even Sehun, who usually has an input in every single situation, is silent. “By all means,” Baekhyun spits out, grabbing the gun to hold it tighter against his own flesh. “Do it, Park.” 

“Easy now, agent Park,” Junmyeon warns, trying to defuse the atmosphere. “Look, try to keep him alive until you guys reach base, alright? We can hand him over to the main headquarters and they can handle him however they want…” he waves his hand carelessly. “…investigations, or whatever.” With that, the screen closes into black; Junmyeon disconnecting the call. Kyungsoo folds the screen back up to the ceiling, glaring at the rest of them. 

“You heard the boss,” he says, staring pointedly at Chanyeol. “Keep. Him. Alive. If we followed the proper protocol everything wouldn’t be this ty.” He mutters the last sentence, turning around to focus on steering the drop ship. 

Chanyeol releases his hold on the gun, putting it back in the innards of his jacket, moving away from Baekhyun. Wiping off the smear of dried blood on his white shirt, he says calmly, “we can’t hand him over to headquarters.” 

“What the hell, Park? D.O just said we should have followed protocol,” Jongdae retorts. “Seriously, I almost died from a heart attack just now. You’re lucky Suho’s patient with you today. Just because you’re good at what you do doesn’t mean you can just screw with the mission.” 

Sehun chirps in. “I know, right? Damn, I thought he was actually gonna kill the guy.” 

“For what unknown reason he isn’t being chased by the NIS, we still can’t hand him over to them,” Chanyeol explains, sitting down on an empty seat, running a hand through his wet hair. “He’s our only lead to Kim Jongin. Once we hand him over to the NIS, EXO can no longer claim him back. They’ll mark him as a domestic threat, and then he won’t be counted in our field anymore.” 

“So you guys are EXO,” Baekhyun mutters under his breath, but it is loud enough for them to hear. “I was wondering why the NIS was snooping around in international borders when they are domestically-focused.” 

“You’ve heard of us?” Jongdae asks casually. “Not many people have. We’re kind of an underground thing.” 

Baekhyun stares at him with a hard scowl. “Yes, EXO. You’re the international branch of the NIS. I’ve heard you tackle the rather dirtier jobs required of the organisation.” 

Before Chanyeol can tell Baekhyun to shut his mouth, he feels the drop ship lowering itself until it hits a soft surface. Water. They’ve reached the base, and they’re starting to go underwater. Baekhyun has clearly not experienced this before, because alarm crosses his features briefly as the drop ship plummets into higher pressures. A few seconds pass before the sound of the drop ship’s whirring slows to a stop. The plug door opens in one smooth motion, Sehun standing at the entrance with pristine white walls behind him, a silly smile plastered on his lips. 

“Welcome home,” he says in a sing-song voice, somehow oblivious to the heated argument they had in the drop ship. He has a grey shirt and a pair of faded jeans with black sneakers, which is a vast improvement from the crocs he wore last week in an attempt to promote a slacker dress code. “Oh, my,” he covers his mouth in mock shock as Chanyeol walks past him with a gun held at Baekhyun’s back. “What the hell happened to his face?” 

“Ugh, don’t ask,” Kyungsoo mutters. “This whole ordeal is giving me a headache.” 

In front of them, Chanyeol roughly nudges the gun, forcing Baekhyun to walk more briskly. The man looks permanently angry at Chanyeol, who escorts him away from the drop ship landing space and into a room tucked neatly on a side wall that looked almost invisible at first glance. There isn’t even a door. Instead, Chanyeol scans his eyes on a tiny square retina scanner. As it blinks green, a door-like shape of the wall detaches itself and slides to the side. Along the long vertical room were lined up stacks of different clothing — from tuxedos and dress pants to normal shirts and shorts; every type of dressing one can ever think of.  

“What is this room?” Baekhyun murmurs indignantly, looking at Chanyeol for an answer. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Chanyeol mutters crudely, but as Baekhyun is undeterred and continues to glare at him and his response, he sighs irritably. “What does it look like? A changing room. Take whatever you want and get dressed.” 

“Scared I have a bug?” Baekhyun raises an eyebrow, bemused when Chanyeol leans on the doorway, indicating that he isn’t thinking of giving Baekhyun even a slight ounce of privacy. 

“Its good to be thorough,” Chanyeol grunts. “Turn.” He adds, when Baekhyun has taken off his soaked vest and dress shirt. Baekhyun looks less than happy about the situation, but he has no choice but to comply, Chanyeol checking even the layers between his hair in case he has a small little recorder hidden in them. Baekhyun is surprisingly thin, Chanyeol notes to himself absentmindedly. And surprisingly pale. He looks almost embarrassed undressed in front of Chanyeol, head dipped and shoulders hunched in an attempt to hide what were strikingly protruding shoulder blades. Huh, Chanyeol thinks, arms folded lazily across his chest as he goes back to leaning against the entrance. So even this can show a little weakness. 

“You done?” Baekhyun snarls defensively at Chanyeol’s unconscious staring. He snatches one of the hanging shirts and jeans from the vast pile, hastily putting them on while Chanyeol scoops up his previous clothing for disposing. As soon as Baekhyun is done, the other three catch up to them, standing by the entrance behind Chanyeol. 

“Have you always been this paranoid,” Sehun drawls sarcastically. “You know the base can detect any foreign bugs in its vicinity. If he had one you guys would’ve known when the drop ship started going underwater.” 

Jongdae waves an arm carelessly. “He’s always been like that since our trainee days, Sehun. Believe me, he was worse. If I didn’t know he’s this meticulous I would’ve thought he’s a ert.” 

“I know,” Sehun sighs, before muttering melodramatically, “it pains me deeply that he does not trust my technology.” 

“Cut it out, Sehun.” Chanyeol groans, as they walk towards the elevator shaft; the thing wide enough to fit a car. Everything is a sickeningly clean white, with the exception of glass showing what surrounded them — water, marine life, and a few sun rays flitting by if one was lucky enough. They were so deep underwater that the water is a murky inky darkness unless a fish swims too closely to the base. Somehow Junmyeon had managed to snag what Sehun calls a ’swanky’ interior design of the EXO base, despite the concerns that it might be too obvious and detectable for other intelligences. But with a proposal for advanced one-way mirrors and a few tricks up Sehun’s tech-savvy sleeves, their Jeju building (both on land and under) is practically untraceable and holds a mighty solid façade of a humble manufacturing and exporting company. 

“So what’re we gonna do with him now?” Jongdae says sarcastically to Chanyeol. They board the elevator, everybody still tense and alert around Baekhyun, guns ready to get whipped out in case he tried anything funny. “You know the boss is coming back tomorrow, and D.O just received word from him that he expects us to deliver Byun Baekhyun to Seoul headquarters when he does.” 

“I also told him about your little plan,” Kyungsoo adds. “He agrees with your sentiment on catching Kim Jongin, but we can’t do it unless we report it back to HQ. And he says once we do they’ll take Baekhyun away.” 

“But why haven’t they tried catching him, then?” Chanyeol asks, indirectly looking Baekhyun’s way for an answer. Baekhyun is ironically calm with a tilt of his head as everyone turns to stare at him. 

“Because I have something they want, and if they get rid of me, their little secrets will leak out for the world to see.” Baekhyun says, though being distantly vague. “So I made a deal with them in exchange for my life.” 

“What secrets?” Chanyeol demands, a sick feeling pooling at the bottom of his stomach. “So like blackmail?”

Baekhyun gives him the same look that annoys him to no end; the odd mix of smug and pity. “I made a deal with the NIS to keep their secrets. But it is true, if they hear that you have me, they will make sure no other NIS agent can ever contact me again.” 

A million questions run through Chanyeol’s mind, repeating every word Baekhyun had uttered in big bold letters. What the man is saying basically, is that he has the organisation practically on their knees. An intelligence service, at that. How could a single man hold that much power in a secret? More important matters were: what was the secret? Chanyeol wasn’t born yesterday. He knew that the NIS has left its mark in some pretty dark situations. Not entirely legal. He should know. The EXO branch is the epitome of the NIS’ underground actions. The ends justify the means, Jongdae would say with a grimace, when they were tasked to do things the guy would rather not do. Chanyeol, on the other hand, was perfectly fine with executing every task the NIS assigned him before and after being posted into EXO. As long as it saves the citizens of the country, he would tell himself. It is printed in the oath that he took before officially being an agent. Yes, it didn’t matter if the ‘means’ meant breaking multiple laws. As long as it was right. 

Chanyeol knew that even if Baekhyun was lying, they still can’t risk telling the NIS about his current location. Finding Kim Jongin is actually top priority right now, and given Baekhyun’s relationship with the NIS, they’d keep him to themselves rather them letting EXO use him to find Jongin. Jongin is actually one of the youngest self-made tycoons who had a little disagreement with some mafias while trafficking illegal firearms in the United Kingdoms. That was why he was being targeted by so many assassins. The NIS got wind of his illegal activities when he flew back to Korea briefly for some breathing space. However, the higher-ups back in Seoul had their eyes on dealing with the mafias in the UK as they had hijacked the korean sea trade a couple of times. Chanyeol was hence sent to Gloucester to coerce Jongin into joining forces with the NIS, but the businessman suspected they wanted to arrest him for his dealerships, and has been on the run from them for quite a while. He’s been pretty good at it whilst still keeping up his image in the public eye, and so Baekhyun was their only shot at securing Kim Jongin. 

Chanyeol’s eyes scan around the elevator to look at his colleague’s expressions. Confused, bewildered, suspicious: all the emotions Chanyeol understands. Well, except for one. Sehun’s face borderlines into worry, his dilated eyes turning to Chanyeol shakily, mouthing a word Chanyeol gets immediately: ‘Later’. 

The elevator doors open, and they all step out to Room 365X; the telecommunications facility. The big screen displayed a world map with all their current assignments, while the smaller computers show evidence of Sehun’s work on their mission hours earlier. The vast room is dimmed, the only lights are the blue illuminating from the screens. 

“When did this become a rat’s den,” Kyungsoo comments in obvious disgust. “I swear cleaning day was two days ago.” 

Jongdae stretches, letting out a loud obnoxious yawn. “No rest for the weary, pal. Time to get our clean on before Junmyeon arrives tomorrow. Park, lock Byun-ssi up for now.” 

“Yes sir,” Chanyeol drawls lazily, grabbing Baekhyun by the shoulder to him to the ‘The Slammer’; but it really is just four rooms with transparent doors that can only be unlocked from the outside for secured targets who were less than friendly about being in EXO company. Jongdae came up with ‘The Slammer’ because they didn’t know what to call it, and prison sounded too harsh for their ears. They walk through a series of empty hallways in total silence, which Chanyeol can label as almost awkward. There isn’t a shred of panic on Baekhyun’s face as he calmly goes wherever Chanyeol directs him to go, placidly complying. It is only when they reach The Slammer that Baekhyun opens his mouth. 

He looks around The Slammer, commenting, “the organisation has changed a lot since I left.” 

“Yeah, well, this isn’t the main headquarters,” Chanyeol says, half-wondering why he bothers to make conversation with him, but remembers that they need Baekhyun’s help if they wanted to find Kim Jongin. The least he could do was to answer. “It’s EXO’s. Newly renovated but still nothing compared to Seoul’s.” 

Baekhyun lets out a sound between a grunt and a snort. “Huh. Even the jail’s got the minimalist design going on.” 

Chanyeol has to agree, which is why they can’t call it a prison. The word just doesn’t suit it. The Slammer has a futuristic setting like the rest of the base, white walls and floors with modern single beds. He scans his eyes again on the nearest retina scanner, the transparent door beside them sliding open in response. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Baekhyun says wryly before Chanyeol opens his mouth, stepping into the room compliantly. The door closes back, a small click signalling that it is locked. 

“The yellow button on your right is for when you need to use the restroom,” Chanyeol tells him monotonously. “And that’s about it, but we’ll probably let you out tomorrow to carry out the next step of the mission.” 

“If Junmyeon allows you to keep me.” Baekhyun has the audacity to purr, talking as if he was trying to seduce Chanyeol again, but Chanyeol knows now that its all an act, and Baekhyun is getting fun out of teasing him. He forces himself not to look disgusted, giving a soft, tired sigh instead. 

“Goodnight, Byun Baekhyun,” Chanyeol says. “Or what little of the night is left.” 

Baekhyun’s sultry appearance drops immediately, going back to his stony, serious expression. Chanyeol feels his eyes follow him walking out of The Slammer when he suddenly says, “Mister Park, I didn’t get your name.” 

He rolls the word ‘mister’ on his tongue slowly, emphasising the English from the usual Korean honorific. What irks Chanyeol the most is that the shivers he gets down his spine are not all entirely unpleasant. He turns to Baekhyun stiffly, meeting his gaze. 

“Chanyeol,” he says curtly. “I’m Park Chanyeol.” 

Baekhyun’s lips curl into a small, sarcastic smile — similar to the one under bright chandelier lights, fluttering between stems of champagne. “Well, you have a really nice name, Park Chanyeol. And you must know, I don’t give that compliment so easily.”