Sinsa-dong, Apujeong-gu, Seoul, South Korea

“Luna, this will be your first assignment.”

‘Horn-rimmed Glasses’ slid the file across the stainless steel workbench of the armory. Various assortments of weapons are arranged neatly on racks; munitions and explosives are stacked by the crates in the strong room to the right.

This safehouse is one of the few with a fully stocked armory, from the smallest .22 mousegun to the largest 50-cal machine gun, nothing missed. Better stocked than the Special Forces, some operatives lovingly commented.

Placed in front of her was a pair of Beretta Px4 sub-compact, four magazines loaded with .40 S&W and a small aluminum ampoule. Those are small enough to stay out of the way, yet powerful enough to make any resistance take her seriously.

“These will be what you’ll need for your first job. You just have to bring the subject back to base. It should be easy for you.”

“Yes … Yes, Sir. I’ll do my best,” Luna replied nervously.

It had been just a week after she had been discharged from the medical cell, having sustained severe injuries that would have disabled any normal person for months. After all, she just wasn’t any normal person…

“There is nothing such as ‘doing my best’ in my books, there is only something called ‘perfectly executed’,” he said coldly, shutting the doors to his personal strongbox with an aluminum suitcase, contained within are state of the art optoelectronics and sensors arrays that are used for monitoring targets on the move, in this case he is monitoring Luna’s performance for her first assignment.

“Sir…,” Luna whispered gently. “Can I…”

“Can you remember what I told you on our second meeting?”

He stopped in his tracks. He felt uncomfortable being called ‘Sir’, despite being the most experienced field commander in the organization. Having worked his way up from his time as an operative, he had had firsthand experience in fieldwork and he understood the hardships that operatives had went through. Thus, he had always treated his fellow operatives as comrades, preferring them to address him by his alias – TOP

“Yes, sir… No, I mean… TOP,” she stuttered.

“Kick that habit of yours.” TOP said, passing a manila envelope to her. “Getting her back in good shape is essential. Jonghyun almost killed his mark.”

“Yes, TOP! I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen.” Luna nodded, making sure that her Berettas are secured properly and the shoulder holsters aren’t restricting her movements.

Let’s not say this too soon, shall we...

--

Myeong-Dong, Jung-gu, Seoul, South Korea

“I want her captured alive, you hear?”

The mob boss spoke, his voice trembling with rage, thinly veiled by his unusually composed demeanor. He was always taught to be calm when giving instructions to his underlings, especially so when he was angry.

Effective instructions couldn't be delivered when you're angered, which results in miscommunication and that would be the start of your downfall. The gruff, powerful voice of an elderly man rang in his head.

Yes, father. I'll remember your teachings.

"Get down to it quick. I'm giving you 5 hours for her capture. I will not tolerate anything but the successful recovery of the disk. Now go!"

The mobsters scrambled out of his office, fearing that a wrong move might cause the mafia boss to erupt into a steaming bout of fury. He wasn’t known as “The storm’s eye” for nothing – Tough on the outside, calm on the inside, and totally impartial at dishing out rewards and punishments at his closest enforcers or his most dreaded enemies.

“Incompetent fools…”

He set his gaze far out into the pearly white city underneath his office tower. He couldn’t afford to let that information be floating around aimlessly into other people’s hands, not after he had spent so many years scheming to get to it. It seems like whatever that was destined to become his had been intercepted, possibly by a messenger employed by another corporation.

In this world, cash is not the king anymore, Information is. People would do anything to get hold of data that is not only powerful, but profitable. Billions of dollars of confidential information traveled across cities and countries by the means of human transports – The messengers.

--

Who are they? Whoever they are… they got to be after this cache… Zip down the cable…

I lunged forward from my perch on top of the water tank onto the thick cables, trying to shake off the persistent pursuers. They had been tailing me for more than an hour now, since I had first contact with the consigner. There are two messengers behind me, most probably after the cache in my belt pouch. I landed with a roll, on the roof-top across the street, zip-line style. I looked over my shoulder, only to see the pursuers still following suit.

Damn… No gloves? Are they out of their mind?

I jumped on to the red riser pipe on the left, heading up towards another tall section of the roof. The strain on my fingers was starting to show itself underneath the thin protective gloves I wore. I sprinted towards the edge of the building, aiming for the empty corridor in the condominium under construction.

Im Yoona… What have you gotten yourself into…

“Uurrff ~ !”

I grunted in frustration as I landed on my shoulder, rolling forward across my back to dampen the impact of the landing. I sprinted down the corridor as soon as I had regained composure, leaping over a dozen oil drums while trying to open up the distance between the pursuers and myself. My heart raced, pumping valuable oxygen and adrenaline throughout my body, which I know fatigue will set in soon enough. My lungs labored to draw in more air, slowly but surely eroding away what little stamina I had left.

No, I’m not going down without a fight… What can I do?

My mind was sharper and working faster than ever. Every nuance and undulation of the worn-out roofing tar was being picked up by my foot. All possible routes across the entire skyline of Myeong-Dong literally sketched out in front of my eyes, playing out like pastel colored cartoons. My body reacted naturally to the obstacles ahead, leaving everything to natural instincts built up over the years.

Sharp left… Tall fence at 3 o’clock... A 5 meter drop, 30 paces after the low fence… Tic-tac up…

I turned left sharply, heading straight towards the wall, stepping off it to reach the fence opposite me. I dropped down the low fence while catching a quick glance over my shoulder to track the pursuers. They were barely hindered by the maze of steel pipes and trunkings on the roof. I swallowed hard, as I felt death’s imminent presence for the first time. My elbows were grazed and bloody from all the rushed and violent landings that I had made. I felt blood flowing down my arms, into my gloves and speckled onto whichever surface that I had came across. Pain was of a much lesser concern as compared to my survival; everything could be patched up later when I had reached my destination.

The drop was 10 paces away, and I had sprinted at full speed for an additional boost, hurling myself off the edge of the building. The roofing material opposite was loose, fine gravel making for a rather nice make-shift landing pad. My teens flashed before me as I made the jump, all the tag and capture-the-flag that I’ve played with the neighborhood traceurs. The sky was just as clear and just as beautiful as the day I did my first wall-run…

“ARGH ~ ! Damn…”

My knees buckled under the immense stress as the loose gravel didn’t take much of the resulting force away. Gritting my teeth, I lunged forward, towards a stair access on the north-eastern corner of the condominium. My body was badly battered, worn out by fatigue and it wasn’t helping that the adrenaline rush was fading fast from the bone-crunching landing.

Speed vault over the pipe for more momentum… Bump the door… and out through the window…

BANG !!!

I slammed into the door with my forearm, ripping the lock off the frame completely with the impact, showering splinters everywhere while I charged straight out of the window. My eyes set themselves upon the pipes on the opposite building, approximately 10 meters from where I am. That was my only ticket out from this pursuit; I had to clear it no matter what.

Approximately 20 degrees of depression… The second pipe… Prepare for impact…

NOOOOOO ~

It seemed like an eternity when I had thrown myself off the roof. I heard the wind whistling pass my ears as I made my way across the urban ravine.

UHHHRG…

I felt the dull ringing of metal against my arms and legs. I saw one of the messengers falling to his death, unable to make the jump, his mouth agape and screaming what seem to be his last words before I imagined the revolting crunch and splattering of bones and organs against asphalt echoing in my head. I let loose a sigh of relief until I heard another thud of flesh against metal below me – His partner had made the jump to the building.

My hands struggled to gain proper grip on the grimy pipe, as I bounded up towards the roof. I took a quick glance at the grimacing hulk below, silently cursing the scumbag who had made my job even tougher. I made a mental note, making sure that I would be paid an extra 5 million won when I got this over and done with. I need to plan my next course of action quickly…

Distance to roof 5 meters… Opposing messenger 7 meters down… Unknown personnel on the roof spotted…

My eyes squinted, keeping its mark at the lone figure on the top of the roof, far too indistinguishable with the blinding sun behind her. I was starting to make out the object in her hand when I felt an icy chill of horror down my spine - I was staring directly into the cold, forged steel barrel of her pistol…

--

Luna wiped off the beads of perspiration from her brows, narrowly missing her mark by mere centimeters. Her out-stretched arm was still gripping her pistol tightly, pointing at her mark, her eyes never once breaking contact with the woman’s. The stare-down between them carried on for what seemed like ages, before Luna holstered her pistol.

“Here, Impala…” Luna reached down to offer her hand, feeling especially light-hearted from the success of her first ever assignment since completing the training course of the organization. “Graceful and powerful, you sure do live up to your name."

“Thanks.” Yoona said coldly, her gaze b with suspicion as she took up the stranger’s offer. “Who sent you? Why are you helping me? How do you know my name?”

“Of course, I do. I’m supposed to bring you back...” Luna smiled, casually removing her backpack and stretching while her mark stared at her with piercing enmity.

“Look, thanks for saving me just now. I’d really appreciate it.” Yoona tensed up, as if ready to fight her way through if necessary. “Now if you would excuse me, I have tasks to complete.”

“You’re going nowhere,” Luna said, removing the envelope from her backpack. “You’re coming with me.”

“Why should I trust you? I don’t even know you.”

“But, I know all about you, Im Yoona. Personal details, false banking credentials, false identities, even the number of moles on that silky smooth back of yours… it’s a pity you had to be in this line…“

Yoona felt the chills on the back of her neck, as Luna continued to belt out every single minute details of her life. Never was she so intimately watched by a surveillance unit. It was as though they had a god’s eye view, casually browsing through every single minute of her life as though it were pages of a magazine.

“Now, after all that speech… Do you think I don’t know you?”

“All of that information could be easily gotten over the black market…” Yoona retorted, trying hard to put up a strong front.

“We have far better intelligence than the black market can even dream of…” Luna laughed at the thought of being compared to the black market. “You will have to come with me … that’s the only choice you have.”

“What if I said I don’t want to…” Yoona growled, pulling away from Luna as she readied herself for offence, her eyes locking unto the stranger’s. She had a strange new look in her eyes, like one of a battle hardened soldier rearing for a fight.

She means business… Serious business…

Whomp !

“URGH~” Luna blocked the roundhouse kick with her arm, slamming hard into a sheetrock wall behind her. The sudden attack had caught her off guard, but none of her vitals were affect by it.

Ouch … That’s one powerful one! What a monster…

Yoona pulled back, defending her head and midsection with her arms. A faint glint of confused anger flashed at the back of her eyes, like that of a cornered animal. Luna was stunned by her response. It was stated in her file that she wasn’t trained in any form of martial art, but the attack she had lashed out was straight out of a street brawler’s arsenal.

Such athletism, and knack for instinctive fighting. Is that her full potential?

“Looks like I gotta get serious now...” Luna cracks her knuckles, her body tightening in anticipation for attacks. “Bring it on.”

Yoona approached her opponent carefully, throwing punches after punches, pummeling Luna with her brute strength. Yoona knew since her childhood that she could achieve tremendous feats of strength that was atypical of her age and build, especially when she was scared or angered by something or someone. From where did she harness her strength, she doesn’t know and doesn’t care.

Luna dodged the barrage of attacks deftly and effortlessly, like a reed in the wind. Seeing through Yoona’s moves as if it was pre-determined, it was destined for her to be defeated should she continue throw desperate punches and kicks.

She’ll need some heavy conditioning back at the base…

Luna shook her head slightly, preparing for the ineffective advance which Yoona will soon make. 

First, philtrum…

Stepping to the inside of the hook, Luna grabbed Yoona’s wrist firmly with her left hand before shoving the heel of her palm onto her philtrum. An explosion of pain sends her tear glands into over drive, clouding her vision and distracting her from the assailant.

Next, carotid artery…

Luna closed in quickly, delivering another palm strike to her neck to end this needless fight. Yoona’s world was sent into a wild spin, her ears ringing, and head pounding in pain. All she felt was the serenity of the blue skies above her as the adrenaline dulls the pain. It seemed like a long time before Luna’s voice brings her back to the reality – She had been intercepted.

“Look, I don’t want to hurt you. I just need you to follow me back to base, that’s all.” Luna hissed, exasperated at Yoona’s reaction. She sat on Yoona’s back, pulling Yoona’s left arm back into an arm lock, wrestling to keep her down on the ground.

Urgh… She is much stronger than I had expected…

“Let go of me ~ !”

“Now, keep still... I don’t think you want scars on your pretty skin, right?” Luna fished out the ampoule from her jacket, snapping off its sealed cap to reveal the hypodermic needle tip. She pressed the ampoule onto Yoona’s neck, emptying its contents into her jugular vein.

“This should take care o…”

Yoona continued to struggle against Luna’s restrain as the cold dose of Thiopental gushed into her system, laying a cold, dark veil over her consciousness. She struggled to stay awake, but she couldn’t. All that she could hear was the constant whirl of spinning rotors hovering above her.

“Who are you?”

Yoona whispered with the last ounce of energy she could salvage from her weakened body.

“I’m Luna... The Jack of Clubs…”

---