CHAPTER THREE

10:08 A.M.

“Hello?”

The ten men in the room exchanged nervous glances. Their captor had been about to shoot Siwon, but the in-room telephone had suddenly rung, distracting him. They waited with bated breathes as the phone rung once, twice, then thrice, before their captor stormed to the table and snatched it off the cradle.

Siwon breathed a sigh of relief that his prayer at that moment had been answered, and he was spared a bullet to the brain. He wondered who was calling, and he resumed his desperate inner prayer. Please save us, God. Please save us.

“What do you want?” Their captor growled into the phone. The Super Junior members and their manager exchanged looks. Each had the same question on their mind: Who was on the phone, and was the person friend or foe?

“There’s nothing to discuss!” Again, their captor was shouting, getting agitated and frustrated. He paused to listen to what the person on the other line was saying, then yelled in reply: “I don’t want anything from you! I just want these s dead!”

A collective shudder ran through the men huddled on the floor. Ryeowook starting crying again, and Eunhyuk, still gagged and unable to make a sound, let out a small whimper. Even Henry, who was normally more stoic, looked like he was on the verge of tears.

“There’s nothing you can do to help me!” Now thoroughly worked up, their captor had pulled the phone away from his ear and spoke directly into the mouthpiece. His loud voice echoed through the room, causing several members to wince at the volume.

“I.just.want.these.men.dead,” he said into the phone again, spitting out each word. He cast an eye over them, and Zhou Mi shuddered in response, attempting to shrink away from the evilness in his gaze.

A cloud of despair fell over the group, knowing that they were trapped with a madman intent on seeing them to their deaths. Faced with the imminent end of their lives, each man was introspective, lost in his own thoughts.

Donghae thought about his mother, who would be heartbroken at the loss of another man in her life, and he said a silent prayer that his brother would take care of her. Similarly, Eunhyuk thought about his parents, and his sister, hoping that they would not be too upset.

Kyuhyun thought about the other Super Junior members – LeeTeuk, Heechul, Shindong, Yesung and Kangin – while Zhou Mi’s thoughts drifted to Hangeng; both harbored hopes that their hyungs would not be too devastated if they failed to make it out alive.

Henry contemplated the last time he told his family he loved them, while Ryeowook tried to hang onto an image of his mother. Siwon considered his parents and his younger sister, then his thoughts turned to the woman he’d once loved. If he died today, he wanted her face to be the last image in his mind.

“WHY?” Their attention once again came to focus on their captor, whose sudden bellow had distracted them from their melacholic introspection.

“I don’t need a reason to do anything!” He was now waving his gun around. It was apparent to the others that the person on the phone was provoking him, but they didn’t understand what was going, not when all they heard was one side of the conversation.

“Fine. You want to know why, don’t you?” A murderous glint entered their captor’s eye, and he let out a bone-chilling cackle. “I’ll tell you why.”

“These men have to die, because they’re too perfect for the rest of us.”

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10:09 A.M.

Kaelyn held her breath as the phone rang once, then twice. She forgot that she’d stopped breathing; it was only until after she heard a click on the third ring, indicating that someone had picked up, that she let out the breath that she was holding. Keeping an eye on the screen, she knew it was the gunman who had answered.

“Hello?” she greeted, her voice steady and smooth, with no indication of the inner turmoil she felt.

“What do you want?” came the harsh reply, and Kaelyn fought the urge to flinch. She reminded herself to keep calm. Engage him, and keep his attention, she told herself.

“My name is Kaelyn Young, I’m with the Police’s Strategic Response Team. And I just want to talk to you,” she replied evenly.

“There’s nothing to discuss!”

“But there is,” Kaelyn began, still keeping an eye on the monitor and watching her subject’s behavior closely. “We have plenty to discuss about. Like those ten men you’re holding hostage.”

“Is there something you want?” she continued, her voice unfaltering. “Tell me, and maybe we can work something out. I’m here to help you.”

“I don’t want anything from you! I just want these s dead!”

Out of the corner of her eye, Kaelyn saw her team mates exchange puzzled glances. This was an unusual case; usually the gunmen they dealt with demanded money, a getaway car, or other tangible items that the team could pretend to obtain, to buy them time. The hostages were usually an insurance plan, their presence a safeguard for the gunman to get what he wanted. Hurting or killing the hostages was not usually part of the plan; it happened only if the gunman was provoked over the edge, or if there was an accident. Murder wasn’t usually on their minds.

This perp, however, had just signalled that murder was on his. That made the SRT’s job even more difficult, because talking was the only way to buy them time until they would work out a plan to infiltrate the room with minimum casualties. It was harder to negotiate with a man who had cold-bloodedly formulated a murder plan.

But Kaelyn plunged ahead. “Surely there must be a reason why you want these men dead. Did they do something to you, or someone you care about? You’re a smart man,” she praised, “You plan everything carefully. So I’m sure you have a reason for doing this. Tell me about it, and I’ll see if I can help you.”

“There’s nothing you can do to help me!”

Kaelyn pulled the phone away from her ear, wincing at the loud volume. The man on the other line was getting more and more agitated. Onscreen, she saw him waving his gun around the room. It was good that talking to her had made him take his attention off his hostages, that meant that he could be easily distracted from his task. But he also had a volatile temper; if she incited his temper too much, he could accidentally fire his weapon.

“Of course I can help you,” Kaelyn persuaded. “But you’ll have to tell me what you want in order for me to help you.”

“I just want these men dead.”

Kaelyn heard the hatred in his voice. It was becoming evident to her, and the team, that their gunman did not merely choose these ten people randomly as his victims. They had done wrong to him – it didn’t matter whether it was real or just a perceived wrong – and he was out for their blood.

“Why? What have they done wrong to you?”

“WHY?” He was now screaming, and Kaelyn saw Phil shaking his head at her, telling her to ease up on pressurizing the gunman. “I don’t need a reason to do anything!”

Kaelyn’s reply was conciliatory. “Of course you don’t. You’re the one with the gun. You have all the power now. But I just want to understand. You want that too, don’t you? Someone to understand?”

She knew she had succeeded in calming him down a little when she heard him take a deep breath.

“Fine. You want to know why, don’t you?” Kaelyn noticed his voice was more even, which told her that he was back in control of his emotions. She caught Phil’s eye, nodding at him.

“Yes I do,” she replied.

“I’ll tell you why.” He sounded a little happy now, too happy for Kaelyn’s liking. She couldn’t see his expression anymore, because he had turned his back to the camera and was now facing his hostages. Then his voice came over the phone again, this time deeper and harsher.

“These men have to die, because they’re too perfect for the rest of us.”

With that last statement, the phone went dead.

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