LOG 7
The Classified Accounts of Ami HwangHEY guys I've updated a lot in these past few days so make sure you've read everything!!!
The car ride back is absolutely silent. You could cut the tension in here with a knife.
I periodically sneak looks in Jungkook's direction. He almost shot me. He's part of a gang.
So why is it so hard for me to believe that he's a killer?
"I know I'm attractive, but you can stop staring at me?" he says, not taking his eyes off the road.
"I'm not staring."
Jungkook pulls over to the side of the road and stops the car. "What the hell?" I protest, but he abruptly turns to me.
"If you have something to say, then say it," he utters in a low voice.
I stare at him for a few moments. "Who... have you killed?"
"Anyone I'm told to."
"Like?"
"Leaders of other gangs. Members of drug cartels. FBI agents. A few politicians who were poking their noses in the wrong places. The list goes on."
The way he's listing this off monotonously makes me sick to my stomach. "Don't you think that's wrong?"
"I follow orders."
I frown. "But you... you can't have. You're my age. And you're Jungkook Jeon."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You're just some dumb, annoying kid who plays basketball and parties all the time! Your comebacks and you're conceited but you're...," A good person.
Jungkook looks annoyed. "I'm not dumb or annoying. And I'm conceited for a good reason. I mean, if you were this good-looking-,"
"You're not that good-looking."
"You're blushing," he smirks.
"I'm not blushing!" I shout, slapping my hands over my face. "See what I mean? You're so annoying!"
Jungkook starts laughing, which pisses me off even more. I cross my arms. "You and I hate you," I mutter.
"I can promise you one thing, Ami," Jungkook says, all traces of humor gone from his face. "I will not kill you, and you can trust me."
His dark eyes are glowing with sincerity. When I join this gang, I'm going to see and hear about worse things, I tell myself. I can't get freaked out about every crime I hear.
So I respond, "I'm pretty sure that's two things," and Jungkook rolls his eyes and the tension breaks.
"I'll pick you up at 9 tomorrow morning," he tells me as I step out of the car.
"If this is another stupid party-,"
"No. I'm taking you to headquarters. You passed."
It takes a few moments for this to sink in. "What? How?" I squeak.
Jungkook gives me a look. "You. Pass. I know you're a moron, but how hard is it for you to understand me?"
"What the- what was the test?"
"Seeing if you could stomach the kinds of things that we do."
I let out a relieved sigh. "Oh, so Namjoon just made up that stuff about you on purpose!"
Jungkook presses his lips together. "He was telling the truth."
"Oh."
"Well, good night. I'll see you tomorrow."
"See ya. And Jungkook?"
"What?"
I grin. "Thanks."
I'm in.
I can barely say a word as we are driving to the 4 Flames headquarters. What will it look like? Is it a huge mansion? Oh, wait- it's probably underground. Will it be full of tattooed thugs? Will I learn gang signs?
30 minutes later, we arrive at a sleek silver skyscraper in the middle of the business district. Bold letters at the top of the building read, Yohan Corporation.
Yohan Corporation.
Wait a minute.
My mind flashes back to weeks ago, when Marcus was telling me about his brother in the library.
He got an internship with Yohan, a billion-dollar tech development company in Silicon Valley, he had said. Then he was killed by a satellite gang of the 4 Flames.
The 4 Flames is Yohan. Kyle Johnson worked for Yohan. Yohan killed Kyle.
His death wasn't just another case of gang violence. His death was intentional.
"Why're you just standing there?" Jungkook says. "Come on. Let's go."
"I've heard of Yohan," I breathe. "Is this the 4 Flames' cover company or something?"
"Basically. A group of the original 4 Flames gang broke off and travelled to the US in order to crack the markets here. Yohan is the company they founded. Not only do we deal drugs, rob valuable goods, and practice extortion, but we develop new technology and wield considerable influence in the professional business world. Best of both worlds."
My mind is reeling in shock. I have to tell Marcus about this. It's disgusting, really, I think as we walk into the building. The real crooks are these white collar workers, strutting around in their expensive suits with their iPhones and tablet computers. Some of the adults passing by stop to respectfully greet Jungkook. He barely pays them any heed.
On the other hand, I feel like I'm completely invisible. Good. Just the way I like it.
Jungkook nods at the receptionist, who opens an elevator on the right of the lobby for us. There is one other person in the elevator- a tall, imposing man. When he sees Jungkook, he bows in respect and steps off the elevator.
"I'll just take the next one," he says, waving his hand dismissively.
Jungkook presses the button that reads "21".
Everyone seems to be scared of him. Weird. Is it because they know he kills?
No. It's something more than that.
The elevator dings. We have reached Floor 21, which looks to be a large room filled with floor-to-wall windows and a low glass desk with a thin MacBook Pro on it. A young blonde-haired woman who can't be more than 25 sits at the desk, grumpily jabbing away at her keyboard. A faint whiff of cigarette smoke hangs in the air.
"You're not supposed to smoke in here, Marge," Jungkook says.
"Oh, bite me," the woman snarls in a heavy New Jersey accent. "I've been working here all night. Gimme a break." Her eyes flicker up to meet mine. "Is this her?"
"Yeah."
"She doesn't look like much."
"Give me that Mac and I'll show you what I can do," I bite back. Marge arches an eyebrow.
"She has a mouth," she remarks.
"She's standing right here."
"Okay, okay." Marge sighs. "Alright, Jungkook. I'll give her the tour."
"Thanks." Jungkook turns to me. "Try not to do anything stupid."
"Shut up," I growl. He smirks and coolly strides back to the elevator.
Marge peers at me. "So you're the girl who hacked the main website, huh. I heard it only took you about an hour and a half. Damn, I thought my encryption at least was pretty solid. "
My eyes widen. "You wrote that encryption?"
"Yup."
"It was amazing," I breathe. "I almost didn't catch the rootkit you placed in the code. I was about to destroy the laptop I was working on."
"You did pretty well yourself. I didn't even realize that you were attacking us until I received an alert for unauthorized entry at your location."
We gaze at each other with newfound respect. "Well, let me show you around Floor 21," Marge says. "First of all, let's address the elephant in the room. We all know that we work for a crime syndicate. But we don't say that out loud. So address us as Yohan. Not the 4 Flames."
I shrug. "Alright."
She takes me through a door at the back of the room and around a corridor. Every inch of wallspace is covered with windows, allowing me to see the breathtaking view over the city. Marge gestures towards a door on the right.
"This is my room," she says. "I barely use it since I'm working so often. And this here is your room." She opens the door across from hers. My jaw drops. A sleek, modern luxury suite greets me, complete with an enormous flatscreen TV, a king-size bed covered with fluffy pillows, and- is that a jacuzzi in the bathroom? Every amenity I could possibly ask for is here.
"This is really awesome and all, but I already have a house," I tell Marge. She shrugs.
"The only time you're required to live here is when you're on call. Otherwise, you can use it whenever." Marge exhales. "And that's about it. Questions?"
That’s it? I can clearly see more doors in the hallway. Whatever. I’m not going to question it.
"What do I do now?" I ask.
"You can start your first project: redoing the security for the Yohan website so no one can get through."
I smirk. My fingers automatically reach into my pocket and pull out a piece of mint gum. "Gotcha."
I spend half of the day coding, adding firewalls and strengthening the site's protection against DDoS attacks and mainframe breaches. Marge and I occasionally exchange snide comments about various topics. I learn that she was transferred here to the main LA chapter from the New York chapter a year and a half ago, and has worked on Floor 21 ever since.
"The regular IT schmucks work on Floors 6, 7, and 8," Marge tells me. "But we work here because we're good."
"Wow."
Suddenly, the elevator dings. Jungkook steps out, carrying a bulky brown bag.
"How's my favorite girl doing?" he asks me in a falsely high voice.
" off," I reply, my eyes never leaving the computer screen.
"As sweet as always." Jungkook sets down a bag in front of Marge. "Eat. You can't survive on cigarettes and espresso shots."
"You're the best," Marge says, digging into the bag. "Ooh, a sandwich! How creative, Jungkook!"
"What about me?" I say, crossing my arms.
Jungkook sneers. "What about you?"
"Did you get me food?"
"Why should I?"
I clench my fists. "Fine. Can you at least give me a ride home? I have to study for the physics test."
"Physics is easy. Why do you have to study?"
"Because I want a good grade. You wouldn't know anything about that. Don't you have a 79 in physics?"
"You switched the numbers around. I have a 97."
"Bull."
"Jeez, you two are vicious," Marge snorts.
"Hmph."
Unfortunately, I am forced to hitch a ride with Jungkook. We snipe at each other the entire ride home. When he drops me off, I slam my door shut in anger.
"Argh!" I screech in frustration, kicking the wall (Bad idea. My foot starts throbbing and I collapse to the floor in anguish).
"Pull yourself together, Ami," I tell myself. After grabbing my phone and calling the Anime Club, I grab my things and head to Lina's house. It's a good 15 minute walk; by the time I arrive there, Preet, Marcus, Annabelle, and Lina are already sitting on the couch, anxiously awaiting my arrival.
"What took you so long?" Preet questions irritatedly. I glare at him in annoyance.
"I don't have a car, so I had to walk, okay? Someone get me food. I'm starving."
"On it," Annabelle says, heading to the kitchen.
I take a deep breath. "Jungkook took me to 4F's headquarters. They're using a legit company to act as a cover for their dealings. Guess what that company's name is? Yohan."
It takes a moment for it to sink in. Then, the sound of glass crashing to the floor echoes through the room. Marcus is on his feet, his eyes wide.
"They killed him on purpose," he gasps.
"Oh my god," Annabelle squeaks, clapping her hands to .
"So what does this mean?" Preet demands agitatedly. "What do we do now?"
"We need to find out what exactly he was working on at Yohan." Lina rubs her temples. "Your brother was an engineer, right? Do you know what he did in his internship?"
"No," Marcus says. He looks totally shaken up. "He worked with manufacturing. But he never really explained what his internship was really about... he said it was top secret."
"Manufacturing." I frown. "Maybe he found out that Yohan was producing guns or something, and realized that they were a gang, and then threatened to expose them."
"Maybe he knew he was working for a gang, and they killed him when he tried to bail." Preet speculates.
"What could he have been manufacturing?" Lina wonders.
"Maybe he was making some kind of evil machine?"
I withdraw my laptop from my bag. "Marcus, do you have access to your brother's Facebook? His LinkedIn? Twitter?"
He nods gravely. I push the laptop towards him. "We need to comb through all his friends and contacts, look for anyone who might have worked with him at Yohan. Then we contact them."
"Ami, we can take care of this," Annabelle says. "You should go home and rest."
I nod. "Good idea. I'm leaving. Good luck, you all."
Before I exit, I place a hand on Marcus' arm. "You okay?" I ask softly.
He gives me a small nod. "I'm fine."
He's clearly not.
Comments