It had been almost three years since Minhwan had forsaken his unorthodox career and voluntarily surrendered himself to law enforcement. Granted, the practice of profiting at the expense of another’s life had often rewarded him with an unending support of money and power; however, much like how children outgrow their toys, the luxury he had grown so accustomed towards began to slowly lose its luster. “Burned out” is the term that a psychologist once had prescribed to him and mental disparities were to be expected. And as his anxiety grew, his performance suffered, and the red trail of blood he had dyed the underworld in began to seep quietly into the streets. It was only a matter of time before his tenure as an enforcer expired.

Ultimately, he was incarcerated for murdering a corporate executive and eventually relinquished to the federal authority and assigned to a specific agent who specialized in organized crime. That agent was Hongki. Lee Hongki. A man localized so famously in the bureau for having been the youngest agent to ever be recruited. And though many would criticize him for his lacking age and life experience, he quickly compensated many times over by his cognitive abilities and brazen heart of steel. However, his prominence in the bureau was not merited to the aforementioned qualities, but instead attributed to his unyielding resolve to obtain results. The man played by no rules and fair play was a concept that did not exist in his dogma. Instead, Hongki’s dictionary was composed of one word, and one word only; results. And for that, he would do whatever was necessary; even if it meant forfeiting his own life in exchange. Therefore, it was seemingly natural for Hongki to sanction a deal for Minhwan’s liberties in exchange for the entire mob. “One for a hundred,” is what Hongki had named their settlement.

And to this regard, Minhwan had always held Hongki in the highest esteem. However, one thing that he could never condition himself to accommodate was Hongki’s undeterred fountain of sarcasms and inability to accord anyone any form of respect. He was talented. He was capable. But when juxtaposed in face with his unsociable personality, Hongki’s unnaturally advanced facilities paled in the light. Granted, much like how Hongki desired nothing more than results, Minhwan greatest desires amounted to nothing more than to arrange an irrevocable adieu between themselves.

“Oooh that’s quite the look you have there, Minhwan,” Hongki jeered sarcastically. “You’re beginning to look more and more like you’re past self.”

"And you're sweating like a hog, much like how you always do when playing with things you shouldn't be."

His pride pricked, Hongki riposted defensively, "I'm a federal agent, Minhwan. Playing with fire is one of my main responsibilities." Leaning to his flank, a subtle expression of discomfort flashed momentarily before being replaced by one of smug chagrin. "Remember, that's what got you incarcerated in the first place."

“It’s hard to believe that you would come out all the way here to talk about my history, Hongki. What do you want?”

“Why? Does my presence bother you that much?”

“It does,” was the spiteful answer.

“Well in that case, I’m hurt. I’m really hurt, Minhwan.” Clutching his chest in the most dramatic manner (it was almost as if he was performing some scene of unrequited love from the theatre), Hongki feigned, “I do so much for you and yet you continue to let your hatred blind you to the miracle that I really am.”

Having no desire to continue their small exchange, Minhwan rolled his eyes at the dramatic and proceeded to turn around towards the door. Wrapping his fingers around the doorknob, he looked to Hongki from the corner of his eye before excusing himself. “I’m sorry Hongki. I’m a homicide detective and Shakespeare or any other theatrical drama for that matter isn’t my cup of tea. You might want to try Julliard or some other facility than the twenty-third precinct if critical acclaim is what you’re after.”

“Fair enough,” he sang as he raised his hands in surrender. “If you hate that much, I really feel sorry for the girl that ends up with you.”

“Hongki,” Minhwan spat sternly.

“Alright, alright. Minhwan, I need you to stop Jonghun from pursuing this investigation any further.” A dark, somber expression shadowed across Hongki’s face.

“Why? Does your reputation in the FBI need a little boost?” Minhwan hissed. “I guess it’s only typical of Lee Hongki to profit off of another’s expense. That is, after all, how you got to where you’re at right now anyway.”

“That’s true. I do profit off of those who are unfortunate enough to plant themselves on my radar, but that’s not why I’m asking you to do this. I’m telling you this as a person who’s…concerned for your safety.”

“Funny,” Minhwan spoke darkly as he turned around. “I don’t ever recall having such a close relationship like that with you.”

Sighing, Hongki slowly stood up from his seat. Holding onto to the frame for support, he undid the buttons that sealed his jacket and revealed his lower abdomen, which had been tightly wrapped in gauze. A pool of bright red had accumulated at the lower right flank, indicating that no medical intervention, if any, had been applied.

“The hell happened to you?”

“I got lucky,” Hongki whispered with a painful smile. Covering the wound quickly with his jacket, he maintained great pressure at the site as he continued morbidly, “But more of that later. What’s important is that you get you and your team’s off this case because I’m telling you now…this case…its so much larger than you think it is.”

…

Queens, New York

11:03 AM

As the pair brought themselves to the front door, the frigid mistral mused itself across the burling flaps of their thick coats, throwing most of their neatly pressed attire into an array of dishevelment. In the beginning, both Jaejin and Jonghun had hated this fronted gale, as it seemed to harass them every time they had fashioned themselves presentable. However, as the clock continued to tick, the minutes continued to lengthen, and soon enough, the repetition of viewing corpses, breaking families, and incarcerating murderers soon had its effect on the two, and everyone else in their team for that matter. Much like an alcoholic who can no longer relish the taste of wine, their emotions hardened, and life grew stagnant. Still, if anything, experience had always shown them that looking presentable almost always yielded positive results when informing families that their loved ones had been murdered.

Fixing his now ruffled blond hair, Jaejin took a deep breath before bringing latching his knuckles onto the wooden frame of his door. From what could be seen, the property itself was of decent size. There was no grandeur or overbearing front yard, nor pretentious outdoor furniture. Instead, the front yard consisted of a single garden, which accommodated some differing varieties of flowers (five is what Jaejin had counted; as for the species, botany was one subject that both Jaejin and Jonghun had failed in their respective universities). The house itself seemed no more than fifty, and it too, was relatively simple. It was a single story house, provisioned with a small porch that housed two seats. All in all, although it lacked pomp, its modest charm sufficed, and through it, the house glowed with a form of comfort that could only be derived from familial relations. It was going to be a hard day indeed.

Staring at the hesitant figure before him, Jonghun gently patted Jaejin’s back, asking, “You okay there? I could always do it if you’re uncomfortable.”

“No. I’m fine. It’s just…” trailed Jaejin.

“Just what?”

“N-nothing,” answered Jaejin. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

Recomposing his manner, Jaejin proceeded to knock upon the wooden barrier, to which was answered by an middle aged lady no older than fifty. “Yes? How may I help you gentlemen?”

“Hello mam. I’m detective Jaejin and this is my partner, detective Jonghun. We’d like to speak to Ms. Rebecca McClinton.”

“That’s me. Is anything the matter?”

Taking a deep breath, Jaejin looked quickly to Jonghun who nodded his head in solemn regard. “Ms. McClinton, detective Jonghun and I are with the homicide division of the twenty-third precinct. Your husband, Mr. Joseph McClinton, was killed on the corner of 54^th and Lexington and the remains of his car were found around 4 this morning.”

Tears began to well within her fragile eyes, and soon enough, she had collapsed onto her knees, weeping in sorrow as she learned to mourn the unexpected, and most wrongful death of her husband. And although both Jaejin and Jonghun wanted nothing more than to cry with her for her loss, they could no longer bring themselves to draw out the necessary emotions, and so, they elected to stand. Stand and keep watch over her as the piercing shriek of the icy wind continued to howl before her doorsteps, because despite their standings as detectives, they knew that they could not grant her at the moment nor promise her what she desired the most; closure. And it was from that very fact that stemmed the greatest pain in their jobs as homicide detectives.

…

NYPD Precinct

New York, New York

11:21 AM

“So what the hell was that all about?” Seunghyun asked as he tossed around a tennis ball within the ambidextrous company of his hands. “You were in there for quite some time.”

“Please believe me when I tell you that I didn’t enjoy a single second of it.”

Winking at his partner, Seunghyun chimed, “It’s the natural duty of partners to never believe what their counterparts say.”

“Whatever,” Minhwan brushed. “By the way, where’s Jonghun and Jaejin?”

“They’re briefing the family in Queens,” answered Seunghyun. “But seriously thought, what did the guy want?”

“You know regulations prohibit me from divulging conversations with any federal authority,” Minhwan stated in a semi-apologetic and semi-matter of fact tone.

“And here I thought partners were supposed to – ”

EMERGENCY. STATION D BRIEFING ROOM. EMERGECNY. STATION D BRIEFING ROOM.

“Station D briefing room? Minhwan that’s…”

“Hongki.”

Without a moment’s delay, the two dashed towards the announced scene of emergency, and as they did, all that flowed within Minhwan’s consciousness was concern and hope that the brusque and melodramatic Hongki was safe.

…

Station D

Briefing Room

Arriving on scene, Minwhan and Seunghyun broke through the line of gathered police officers and detectives that surrounded the collapsed body and medical personnel who worked actively to stabilize the hemorrhaging individual.

As they continued to irrigate, suture, and dress the bleeding wound, Hongki’s pallor continued to pale in response to the loss of adequate blood volume and subsequent inability to properly perfuse to all the bodies faculties. Transferring care briefly to the precinct medics, the physician looked to the crowd of law enforcement personnel and called desperately, “Did anyone see this man before or during his collapse?!”

No one answered.

“Anyone?!”

Still there was no answer. Finding Minhwan’s reluctance to answer odd, Seunghyun cautiously tapped Minhwan’s arm in an attempt to elicit some response but failed to. As he brought his arm forth again, Minhwan uttered sternly, “Seunghyun. I know.”

“Then why aren’t you? You were the last one with him and that’s going to be invaluable information when they –”

“Seunghyun,” he called again sternly as he stared the taller fellow down. “I know what I’m doing.”

…

11:05 AM

“The hell happened to you?”

“I got lucky,” Hongki whispered with a painful smile. Covering the wound quickly with his jacket, he maintained great pressure at the site as he continued morbidly, “But more of that later. What’s important is that you get you and your team’s off this case because I’m telling you now…this case…its so much larger than you think it is.”

His body acting subconsciously, Minhwan immediately stepped forward and helped Hongki back onto the seat and examined the dressing closely. The wound itself had never been properly cleaned, irrigated, or closed, and the dressing itself seemed to be at least a day old.

“Hongki, we need to get you to a hospital.”

Slowly, the pain continued to intensify in his lower abdomen and radiate to his adjunct constituents, beckoning for beads of cold sweat began to drip down Hongki’s body as he clutched onto the wound firmly. “No. I-I’m not going.”

“The hell you aren’t, Hongki. You’re a dead man if you don’t.”

He grimaced in pain as he let out a faint chuckle. “I’m a dead man either way, Minhwan.” Undeterred, Minhwan proceeded to quickly place Hongki’s hand on the wound before standing up in an attempt to find help. However, he was stopped by Hongki’s swift grip on his wrist. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he mustered in desperation. “You’re going –”

“ – to die if you don’t get help.” The pain in his abdomen continued to intensify and soon enough, his vision began to blur. “I know what I’m doing…Minhwan,” he rasped. “Y-You never saw…me…today…”

“Hongki, what the hell is going on?”

A slight smile curved the brim of Hongki’s lips, exposing his teeth and other faculties of his oral cavity, all of which, had been dyed red with blood. Closing his eyes shut like a child who fears scolding, Hongki muttered quietly, “Promise me that you’ll…get your team off this case, Minwhan.”

Noting the ironed resolve so planted within Hongki’s desperately fading eyes, Minhwan came to realize two things. For one, despite his habits, Hongki was a rational being who, if anything, never wasted a move. Granted, the mere fact that Hongki had chosen the exclusivity of this case over his own life warranted its subsequent danger and complexity. And although Minhwan had no given idea or any gift of divination to see the exact contents of the case through, Hongki’s apparent resolve was more than enough to convince him to consider the fact that perhaps it really was best if they relinquished the case.

Drawing his thoughts to a close, Minhwan stared Hongki straight in the eye, and offered, in a tone most solemn and timber, “I can’t promise you that I’ll remove everyone from the case when we haven’t even scratched the tip, Hongki. However, I do promise you that the moment this case gets dangerous, I will surrender authority of this case over to another detective.”

As his strength continued to wax and wane, like a fire dying in the rain, Hongki offered Minhwan a curt nod as a sign of his approval before relinquishing his hold over the boy’s wrist. Offering a quaint shove, he mouthed a singular word to the worried lad.

“Go.”

…

The Vatican, Italy

July 8, 2013

02:15 PM

Graced by the sense of purity emitted from his white robe, the strands of red that accommodated so danced serenely as the elder kneeled before the sanctified alter. Clasping his aged hands together, he kissed the golden ring so put on the third finger of his right hand and commenced his prayer in tongue. The doors had been shut, and the curtains, drawn. Much like how he had so instructed his pupils, prayer was a time when one engages in a direct conversation with God, and as such, should be held in an environment so cleansed from worldly and material influences.

As he continued to mutter the ancient phrases of hymn, a sliver of light formed slowly from the main doorway, as its majestic wooden frame was pried open. Then stepped forth a man, clad in a brown cardigan and checkered pants, who too, seemed as if he were praying.

“The privacy of prayer…is not one that should be vilified and trespassed so casually,” seethed the old man. “Apologize to the Lord your God and leave us so that I may resume my –”

“And Jesus said to them, ‘Follow me and I shall make you fishers of men.’ And immediately they left their nets and followed him,” the man recited in a tone most respectful. Grinning from the corner of his mouth, he whistled, “Is that not what is says on your ring, Your Holiness?”

As the elder began to slowly register the voice within the halls of his memory, his eyes slowly opened in acknowledgment of the individual. “I see…you are still alive….”

“Is that a problem?” he questioned.

“I had received word that you were killed some days ago.”

“Then you might want to re-check your sources ‘cus I’m alive and breathing real well right now. I guess this is what you church folk would call a resurrection.”

“Do not mock the scripture, child. Lest you want to damn yourself to hell.” Turning around, the elder stood and looked the younger fellow straight in the eye. Kissing the ring once more, he drew himself to the secondary altar and poured some wine in the crystalline cup located adjacent to the scarlet liquid. “So…may I ask what is it that you seek in my company?”

“I just came to give you a report on things stateside.”

“A phone call would have sufficed,” the old man spat.

“My oh my. Pope or not, I see your tempers still alive and well,” the younger man sang much to the older man’s annoyance. Smiling, he continued, “Well I guess first things first…I got rid of him for ‘ya. That meddlesome prick, so touted ‘genius’ Hongki was quite the hassle. Barely got the jump on him when I did, but all in all, he shouldn’t be meddlin’ in your affairs anytime soon.”

“Did you confirm his death?”                       

“No. But he’s as good as any. Shot him straight in the lower stomach. I reckon I got a vital point or two.”

As he laughed darkly to himself, the robed priest walked over to the secondary alters once again and stopped, before staring pensively into the mirror adorned with an intricately crafted lock of bronze. Conjuring a key from the depth of his aged garbs, he unlocked the hinged compartment and opened it, unveiling a large schema of lines, pictures, and notes, all of which, were somehow interpolated against each other. He then crossed his arms across his back, speaking darkly as he did, “So Lee Hongki is dead…how marvelous.” Stifling a chuckle, he concluded, “Now there is only one person standing between me and my purging the world of sin.”

“And who might that be?” the young fellow asked inquisitively. “You might as well send me to get him too.”

“I reckon I should. But I already have somebody assigned to do that ‘job,’” he answered in an amused tone. “The Lord does play his cards in the most interesting way...to think that her younger brother would be fashioned into the linchpin of my plans.” Chuckling, he his chin softly before bellowing morbidly, "None the matter, the one to kill Lee Jaejin will be none other than Choi Jonghun."

Sorry for the wait! Hope you enjoyed!