Eleven

It had been a good two years since I had taken a hapkido lesson, but hapkido wasn’t really something you just forgot. There were only two men standing guard outside of the back entrance to the warehouse, holding guns. I knew I had to sneak up on them, get within arms reach before they saw me or I’d never have a chance. 

Luckily, their posts were in front of an eight foot ledge, which wound all around the building. I quickly scaled onto it using the uneven brick on the other side, and slowly crawled around. 

The drop was quiet, but made enough noise for the guards to spin around in alarm. 

My years of hapkido training kicked in almost immediately. Before either could even raise their guns, I was in action. My leg lashed out and I sent a snapping kick to the wrist of the guy closest to me. He dropped the gun in pain; I had probably just broken his wrist. The next kick was to the side of the head, and he went down. 

The other guard was frozen in shock, not expecting me to be able to fight. I used that moment to my advantage, disarming him and taking him out before he could yell for backup. It was all over in less than ten seconds. 

I breathed heavily, trying to collect myself and catch my breath. I carefully picked up one of the guns the men had dropped and turned it over in my hands. I have never actually held a gun before and it felt heavy in my hands After a moment of thought, I decided to take it with me.   

Carefully, I entered the warehouse. It was dark inside, and several degrees colder than outside. I drew my jacket tighter around me and ducked behind a huge metal shipping crates, taking a moment to categorize my surroundings. 

The entire room was lit by only a few flickering lights near the middle of the room, and large, metal shipping containers were scattered throughout. It was oddly quiet, but I could hear faint sounds of scuffling from the center of the room. Slowly, I crept closer, using the contains for cover, listening for any sounds close to me. When I peaked around the last box to see the center of the room, I had to fight back a gasp. 

About thirty yards away in the middle of the room, Yixing was sitting, tied to a wooden chair. His head was down, chin touching his chest, but I could still see blood near his hairline. I couldn’t even tell if he was still alive; all I knew was that I needed to get him out of there. 

Quietly, I ducked out from behind the last crate and moved toward Yixing. I was halfway to him when suddenly, as if sensing my presence, he looked up. 

To my horror, one of Yixing’s eyes was swelling to an ugly purple color and his lip was bleeding badly. What had they done to him. Yixing’s eyes were slightly glazed over as he looked at me, gaze shifting to focus on me. There was a moment of confusing, then realization. Then, his eyes widened in warning just as I heard the sound of a gun loading. I spun toward the sound at once, raising the gun in my hands. The man walking towards me appeared to be in his mid or late thirties. He had an ugly smirk on his face as he stepped out of the shadows. 

“Stop, or I’ll shoot,” I threatened, trying to keep both my voice and my aim steady. I needed to appear confident, or he would have even more of an advantage.       

“Jung - ” Yixing started, but to my horror, another man had stepped out next to him holding a gun. He immediately stopped talking. The first man stepped up next to them, and gave me a judging look.

“Are you here to turn yourself over to us?” he asked, voice echoing in the large room. “If so, we'll consider letting pretty boy here go; it’s you that we want.”

Yixing’s eyes widened in horror. “Don't do it, Jung ah,” he said desperately, struggling again to try and escape the chair. 

The man gave a low laugh. “Jung ah? Didn't she tell you anything, pretty boy? Her real name is Kim Hyojung.”

The room had gone deathly quiet and Yixing stopped struggling. “Is that true?” he asked quietly. “Jung, is he telling the truth?”

Out of all the ways I had imagined Yixing finding out my real identity, this had to be worse than all of those combined. 

The look on my face must have said it all. 

“Who the hell are you?“ Yixing whispered, slumping back into his seat. 

“You know, I think it’s time for a proper introduction,” the man said. He gave a nod of his head, and several more men came out of their hiding places to stand next to him. They all had their guns trained to me and I knew it was a lost cause, but I fought to keep my own still aimed at the man. “My name is Choi Jungsuk and I am the fourth partner. You know, Hyojung, I've spent the past thirty years of my life building my empire with my partners, only for your father to destroy it.”

“What does that have to do with me?” I asked, trying to stay calm even as I was running through all possible escape routes in my head. I was started to feel frantic. I was so outnumbered; there was no escape. 

“Everything,” Choi snarled. “I'm going to destroy the only thing he has left.” 

Just then, a flash of white behind Choi and his men caught my eye. I saw Kris, Mr. Park, and two other men crouched behind shipping crates, guns drawn. Kris caught my eye and gave me his meanest face. I knew he was going to kill me for t