Mission J

The sky was completely black now, the winds strong and howling coldly into the night. It was brutally frigid and from my standpoint, a very less-than-ideal situation for the business I was tending to. But my options were short and few.
A long tired sigh escaped me as I got out of the car, pulling my duffel bag out with me and slammed the door shut. The icy chill of the air crushed into me, instantly sucking out any warmth I had. Quickly I locked the door before discretely looking around.

Itaewon wasn’t the greatest place to be after dark, the underground and darker stories of Seoul coming out to reality the moment the sun was below the horizon. Already there were a few strings of people lingering on the streets, most solitary and a few small groups standing here and there. By one glance I could pick out the dealers and users, gangsters and prostitutes.
It wasn’t a quiet crowd but all liveliness of the tourist herds was wisely gone and the tension was subtle but there.

Without taking a blatant look around I could already feel prying eyes on me and my flashy car. I wouldn’t be all too surprised if that right there placed me at the top of a few target lists--- dumb tourists often learned the hard way the price of wandering too far into the wrong district at the wrong time.
Regardless, I calmly pocketed my keys and walked to the curb, keeping collected as I started on my way. In a place like this, even the way you walked the streets decided which end of the food chain you were going to be on. The weight of the sig holstered to my rib was a slight reassurance, though I wasn’t too worried. The people I saw out would keep to themselves, but word traveled fast around here.
I hoisted my duffel bag’s straps onto my shoulder, ignoring the protesting pains of the bruised neck and kept my strides at a calm and confident pace.

I quickly found myself following a familiar back route from memory, staying on the main street just for another short while. At a small shop I turned into a small alleyway, letting myself get swallowed up by the dark. The alleyway was slightly warmer as the winds didn’t reach the small space but it didn’t make things any less dangerous. I pulled my jacket collar closer to my neck with a free hand as I turned another corner at the end of the alley.
The roads here were narrower and less crowded with the nightlife business. But still I continued to avoid eye contact with a sharp glare and strode onward without slowing or letting my guard down.
The next turn I made was into a small street vender’s shop. I brushed past the assumed owner without much of a glance and walked straight into the back area. No one tried to stop me as I passed through, weaving through the shelves and crates of food. Thick steam billowed into my face as I passed the kitchen, the smell of frying oil heavy in the air. Wasting no time, I ducked into the back doorway and out into another alleyway.

Once I was out, I allowed myself a moment to look left and right. A small group of foreigners in uniform were huddled at one end of the alley and from their uniform I could tell they were the US army patrolling the area. Their base wasn’t too far from this area, so this sighting wasn’t peculiar. But they were probably better off kept at a safe distance.
I shifted the straps of my duffel bag on my shoulder before looking to my right. Down that way was the road leading to The Hill, notoriously known to be the red-light district. To be an unfamiliar face in that area may not be a wise choice on my part.

That left me with one choice and my eyes landed on the high opposing wall in front of me: up and over.

Quietly I approached the opposing wall of the alley and jumped on top of a few crates stacked along the concrete blocks. It took me another jump for me to grasp the high cement wall and hoist myself up. Right behind the wall was a rickety looking structure that resembled a small shelter home. I surveyed the ground below me quickly before dropping the duffel bag down. I took another glance around to make sure I wasn’t followed before jumping down.
I landed on my toes, my knees bending softly to absorb the shock. My body sank to the ground, muffling any possible sound to silence. I stayed still for a few minutes before scooping up my bag and throwing the strap back over my shoulder. I straightened out my jacket sleeves with a quick brush of my hands and started on my way. The structures around me were much older looking, the spaces between them narrower and tighter. I made my way around the house and maneuvered through the clutter of trash and some abandoned odd items to get to the street. Finally I saw a way around and out, and set forward to get through. Cautiously, I looked left and right, keeping an eye out for the military patrols before stepping out.

Unlike other parts of the district, there were only a few people out. Here, there were no food markets, souvenir venders or patrols. Those that were out stayed quiet and still, keeping their tired hard glares on the street to watch out for any threats that may come rolling down their street.
The moment I stepped out onto this broken neighborhood, the eyes immediately snapped to me. I dropped my harsh gaze and stiff posture and moved slowly as I turned right, silently expressing voluntary recession. As I looked down the street, I saw my destination.

The small apartment building was run-down and dirty looking as I remembered, if not worse than the last time I was here. Nothing about it on the outside was inviting, but then again neither was the rest of the neighborhood.
Without giving it anymore useless thoughts, I hoisted my bag strap over my shoulder and approached the apartment.



The bottom of my boots scuffed lightly against the chipped concrete as I strode down the three steps leading to the exterior hallway where the entrances to the apartments were. The hall itself was poorly light with this dirty orange light that came from the outdated light bulb that was fixed on the ceiling.
I approached the first door on my right and knocked. The flimsy door was like a joke as it shook under the light tapping of my fist, and I could hear the sounds echoing into the space behind it. I stood patiently, waiting for the door to open. Ten seconds passed, without a single sound or reply.
I sighed and stepped to the side, leaning my shoulder against the dusty threshold. I crossed my arms and counted down from eight.

…eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one---

The door swung open sharply with a start and a small figure darted out from the dark apartment.
“Raaaah!” a voice roared out.

The small body dove out of the entrance, shoving something glinting pointed forward and out the door.
My left hand caught the hand by the wrist as it swung out to the side and with a small flick of my fingers, the knife fell out of the hand and clattered on the ground.
The assailant yelped in pain and thrashed as I gave a sharp pull and hooked my elbow over his head without releasing the pressure point on the wrist. Without a pause, my right hand found his jugular.
“Sorry, not fast enough…as usual.” I muttered, and with that I released him with a light shove. He stumbled forward before he caught himself. I saw him stiffen for a second but then he wheeled around, eyes wide.

“…Noona?” he questioned almost incredulously.

I raised an eyebrow at the boy staring at me with his stunned expression. I didn’t comment on the somewhat fresh bruise forming on his right eye.
“Is that a question or a statement?” I replied.

The boy blinked, but then grinned widely at my response.
“K noona! It is you!” he exclaimed, bouncing back onto his feet. “It’s been so long!”

I bent down and picked up his knife.

“It has been a while,” I agreed, wiping the blade on my jacket sleeve. “What are you up to, kid? Trying to kill me without saying ‘hi’ first…”
I frowned and looked at the kid up and down.
“Bae, you’ve grown taller.” I noted flatly.

Bae laughed, a childish grin I remembered still on his face.
“As if I could kill you if I tried, noona.” he said. “And like I said, it’s been a long time. Of course I grew.”
He then straightened his posture and proudly puffed out his scrawny chest.
“I’m a man now, see.” he said. “Can you see it?”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes.
“It’s only been a year, kid.” I grunted. “And no boy is a man at fourteen, especially if he keeps getting beat by a girl.”
He looked like he was going to argue when I flipped the knife in my hand and handed it back to him handle-first.
“Come on, I have something for you and your sister.”

That shut the kid up and he darted back into the apartment.
“Come on in!” he called to me, and the lights were turned on.
I followed after him, stepping through the threshold and closing the door behind me.