Tzuyu pulled the blinds shut when they dragged the body inside. Mino was a big guy, his shoulders and arms riddled with tattoos. The many earrings on his left ear glinted in the dim light. His partner in action, Krystal, forced their spy onto a chair. Immediately, Tzuyu tied his hands behind the chair with some rope.

            Their bulb fizzled slightly. Jinwoo had warned them about the Thunderstorm imposters, and finally, they found one of them. It was a young mercenary, even younger than Tzuyu, and barely into the start of his career. He could have passed for sixteen years.

            Mino violently removed the bag over the mercenary’s head. The boy’s blond hair stuck to his scalp, drenched in sweat. His eyes were bloodshot, his left one swollen and purple against his pale skin. Blood trickled down the side of his lips. His chest heaved as he struggled against the ropes.

            “You’re going to talk for us,” said Mino. His long form leaned down. A nefarious smirk was evident on his thin face. “Who sent you over? Are there more of you around here?”

            The mercenary did not utter a word. He remained tight-lipped and stern. Krystal removed a card from the pocket of his shirt. “Vernon? That’s your real name? You went around calling yourself Seventeen,” she said. The light caught off the scar across one of her eyes. Tzuyu never asked her about it, but it fascinated her since Krystal had beautiful, aristocratic features. The scar blared like a weed.

            Mino raised a fist. “If you won’t talk, I’ll make you do it.”

Tzuyu pressed a hand over to hide her terror. The boy was almost knocked out of his chair when Mino punched him in the abdomen. Her ally repeated his brutal actions until the boy burst into tears. Blood dribbled down his chin, staining his teeth and gums. Krystal watched quietly, discerning the violence without a blink.

            Mino spat at his feet and wiped his mouth. “As I thought. You won’t say a word if they pay you this much.”

The boy grumbled under his breath. Mino grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. “What’s that you said?”

            For the first time, Vernon stared at him, his tearful eyes bleary with determination. “I’ll…never…tell you.”

            Mino bellowed awful curses. Tzuyu stepped forward to shield the boy before Mino clobbered him again. His glare was unholy and full of boiling anger. His veins popped against his neck. “What do you think you’re doing? Get out of my way.”

“I don’t think we’ll get anything out of him,” she said. “Besides, he’s just a boy.”

            “He’s a mercenary so he ain’t a boy anymore,” Mino growled. “He’s obviously working for Santa Maria, prancing around and calling himself a rebel.” He regained composure and glanced at Krystal. “Boss? Aren’t you going to say anything?”

            The woman’s features were as stiff as dried clay. “Expect collateral, Tzuyu. We’ll give you an hour to get him to talk,” she said, her quiet voice deep and emotionless.

Tzuyu hid her disappointment. She had been inspired by Krystal, and admired her strength and political views. But now, she stood trapped in the middle of a mission that rendered her helpless and subdued. Mino’s grin irked her, and she resisted the urge to argue.

            “And if he doesn’t speak soon, he’s not going to see the light of morning,” Krystal said. She and Mino left the room. Tzuyu stood staring at the door, in shock and in guilt. Her fists shook by her sides and angry tears blurred her vision. She bit her bottom lip to stifle a sob and blinked to eliminate her ambivalent emotions. Vernon coughed behind her, pulling her back to reality.

            Tzuyu took a pack from the table and removed some medicinal cloths. She  kneeled opposite him and wiped the blood from Vernon’s face. At first, he recoiled into the chair, but then he gave in as she cleaned away his blood.

            “You should tell the truth,” she said. “Otherwise, they won’t spare you.”

“And what if I do? Will you let me go? I highly doubt it,” he said. “You’re going to kill me anyways.”

            He bunched her with the others. She did not miss that. His words stabbed her like a sharpened knife. With a weary sigh, she inspected the red hue on the wipes. “I’ll do my best to protect you.”

            “That won’t stop me from completing my mission,” he said, staring into the ceiling. “I won’t tell you anything, no matter what you say. You guys…you guy make me sick. Why’d you want to overthrow the President anyway? There’s other problems in Gidem, and the last thing we need are terrorists in our country.”

            “What?” Tzuyu grabbed his shoulders and shook him as if that would knock some logical into his young mind. “You’re wrong! We’re not terrorists. We just want to create a better Gidem for the people.”

            Vernon laughed in derision. “Blowing up roads. Creating fake propaganda. Killing politicians and holding their families ransom? Don’t lie, ma’am. You know it yourself. You’re a terrorist.”

            Tzuyu reached forward and slapped him. His head hung low. A piercing silence ensued. She swiftly walked next to the ta