Mission J

A faint, numbing buzz seemed to have set inside of my skull, making my brain pulse and my temples throb. It lingered persistently, the sensation stubborn and bothersome as it hung over my head like a dense fog. Not even the shock of cold air broke the spell as I stepped out of my car.

I needed to rest. Sooner the better.

I exhaled under my breath, a soft stream of white clouds passing through my lips. The air whistled as it scratched painfully against my windpipe, the cold feeling tight in my lungs. The icy brisk air pinched at my throat, making it hurt.
I suppressed a tremor that threatened to rattle from my ribs and turned my eyes to the shady building located just across the street.

The sight wasn’t anything impressive; rather more of an appalling vision. It certainly wasn’t a place I liked to be after dark. There were groups of bars seemingly on every corner of every street, with a selection of love hotels wedged in between for the drunks to choose from for their late night entertainment.
The building right across from where I was standing was just a run-down motel of some sort by public listing, but it was no secret that it served as a location for discrete and covert businesses and exchange---the place was in a poor visibility location and too cheap to install surveillance cameras. It was the best setting for activities best suited to go unnoticed.
And this is where my next task took me.

Feeling slightly reluctant, I allowed myself a tired sigh.
Though I had left the dangerous neighborhood in my rearview mirror, this one wasn’t exactly clean of surreptitious workings. If anything, this place had its own kind of dirt, while mostly on the passive of the underground it was still vile. And just thinking about the last time I was here made me want to go take a hot shower. But regardless, I crossed the street and headed straight to the front entrance. The slightly grimy glass doors slid open with a shaky grinding noise as I approached. And almost immediately I was assaulted by an old mixed stench of alcohol, cheap cologne and cigarettes even before I stepped inside. Internally, I cringed and I became eager to get what I came here for and leave under record time.

The automatic doors shakily closed behind me as I made my approach to the front counters where I saw a man sitting behind a glass panel. He made no motion to indicate that he heard or saw me come in, even though the floor was completely open and empty. I walked over and stopped right before the glass, giving the man a quick assessment. To describe him in a single word, he was simply…greasy. I imagine in all sorts of definition of the word.

Suppressing my unnecessary thoughts, I lifted a hand and knocked lightly on the glass panel.
“I’m here to collect a personal item.” I spoke calmly.

The man behind the counter looked up at me from the adult magazine he was reading, his movement slow and sluggish. Laziness and apathy rolled off of him with the smell of cigarette smoke and body odor.

“Personal item,” he croaked.

His bloodshot eyes looked me over up and down, and he licked his dry lips before sneering a yellowed-teeth crooked smile. My eyes narrowed in disgust and I glared at his openly sleazy vibe.

“I can help with that.” he continued to croak in his raspy degraded voice. “Just how personal did you want to get, sweetheart?”

I tried to keep from showing any distaste in my expression, even though I was repulsed. My well of patience was running on dry tonight and this man was scraping up the bottom of it for the last drop. Man, this was a long night.

I exhaled slowly to calm down the flare of irritation before I spoke.
“Room key for A-22. It won’t take long.” I said, ignoring his question.

The guy grunted as he turned his bloodshot eyes to linger over my body for too long before lifting his gaze back to my face. I didn’t miss that glint in his eyes as he sneered at me.
“Room A-22, eh? That’s a mighty pricey room you’re asking for. One of my best.” he croaked. “No matter how quick you are taking care of your needs.”
He shifted behind the counter and pushed the glass panel separating the two of us aside. I nearly jumped back at the alarmingly--- dare I say fresh---wave of reeking cigarettes, body odor and urine all in one that suddenly pushed through right at me. Did this man not bathe?
“It’s gonna cost you some to get that room at this hour.”

“Money is not an issue.” I said, my tone hard. “Name the price.”

The man sighed dramatically as he scanned over me…again. He feigned an expression of consideration before he talked again.
“Now, I’m a reasonable man…I can work out a discount for such a pretty lady like yourself.” he told me. “I do this favor for you…and you could do a small favor for me.”

“Small favor,” I echoed, and the guy licked his lips. Again. I didn’t miss that look he had as if he won a prize or something, and that was more than enough to know what he was talking about.
“Hmm,” I hummed shortly, my smile forced and tight.

If patience and tolerance are virtues, well damn; I’m a fucking saint.

I was about to politely ask for the keys again when he reached over and put his greasy paw on my right arm that was left propped on the counter surface.
“What do you say? It’s more than generous, given your extreme demands, this would be such a little thing to give on your part…”
I felt his thumb brushing back and forth against the side of my wrist through my sleeve, his fingers practically wrapping around the top half of my forearm. I wasn’t sure if I was able to completely hold in a twitch from my face.

This bastard…virtues and saints my ass.

The guy continued to sneer at me, his eyes wandering over me yet again, this time much too slowly. His sneer only grew wider when I met his gaze.
“Extreme…demands…” I spoke, drawing my words out slow and low, almost carefully.

The guy still had that sick grin on his face, yellowing teeth and all when my left hand clamped down on his hand attached to my arm. Though I can’t say it stayed for much longer as my left hand found a pressure point in his hand and twisted his fingers off of my wrist. In the same breath my now freed right hand shot forward and hooked around to the back of his neck before I yanked his head forward and down onto the countertop. I heard him let out a rather satisfying yelp to accompany the loud bang of his forehead becoming acquainted with the hard flat surface.
I didn’t pause for a break or let off on the pressure point as I pulled his hand over and behind his head.

“AH!! Ah, gaah!” I heard the guy cry out as I tightened my grip on his hand and anchoring his head by applying pressure down on his neck with my elbow.

“I’ll make myself clear and straightforward. Room A-22 keys. Now, please.” I spoke, my voice low and cold. “I don’t really care to be kept waiting. I also don't need anything else from you so next time you even think about being 'generous', I'm going to shoot you in your small favor. Got it?”

“Who---who are you?” the guy rasped with difficulty.

“You don’t know me but you may have heard of my family.” I said. “The Song Family has many friends above the surface and deep roots in the underground.”

I felt the guy stiffen at the mentioning of the name.
“The…the Geondal,” he managed to stammer, realization and horror in his tone.

“That’s right; now can I have the keys?” I asked drily.



The match tip scraped crisply against the friction belt on the side of the matchbox as I struck downward. Sparks lit the end of the match, and a single bright flame hissed and burst to life.
I waited a few seconds for the flame to stabilize before turning back to the wall in front of me.

As I had expected, the room had not been renovated or changed since the last time I was here to plant the item, right down to the tacky wallpaper in the closet walls. That was something predicted; this establishment wasn’t one to spend money on interior design. But as a result, it lowered the chance of my item being found.

Careful as to not set the place on fire, I leaned closer to the closet’s back wall and brought the match close to the bottom edge of the wallpaper, just close enough to warm the paper. Slowly I trailed the flame along the bottom edge. The paper started to brown the slightest bit, the adhesive crinkling from the heat as I went along. I got to the middle panel of wallpaper, steadily heating the edge. This time, the paper didn’t brown; instead, the edges lifted, pulling away from the wall surface. I finished heating that panel before blowing out the match and dropping the spent match into the whiskey glass I borrowed from the mini bar in the room. I pulled out my folding knife from my boot and turned back to the peeling wall. Flicking the blade out of its sleeve, I slipped the tip underneath the paper and traced it along the side edge, pulling the paper off the wall. I stopped half way up the wall and rolled the loosened wallpaper out of the way.

There, in the thin plaster board was a small rectangular shaped cut in the wall. It was seemingly untouched since it was last opened.
I slipped the blade tip into the incision and pried the hidden compartment with ease. The flap opened without much noise with the applied pressure of the blade.
Holding the flap open, I reached in and pulled out the small clutch that was stored inside. It was also seemingly untouched, with a very thin layer of dust on top. I brushed off the dust lightly and opened the clutch. Inside were the items I had left in there, several bills, a passport, a bank card, a few diamond rings and earrings. This was a small collection of possessions that were left of Song Ji Hyun, a name I thought would stayed buried for a long time. Everything was there; clearly no one had found it in the few years that it’s been in there.
Pulling out the distractions out, I trailed my finger along the seam of the inner fabric lining until I felt the small clip keeping it in place. With a firm press, the clip gave, opening a hidden pocket. Inside was the most inexpensive looking thing in the clutch; an old-style cylinder lock key. Ironically though, it was the most valuable thing among the items.

I pulled it out and slipped the key into my jacket’s inner pocket. I quickly cleaned up after myself, putting things back in order and in its original places. The wallpaper was rolled back down, hiding the now empty hidden compartment once again. Using one of the candles placed with the love-sappy décor, I restored the wax seal and used another match to set the wallpaper back into place. Checking once again to make sure I left no flaws, I gathered all borrowed things and put them back. The spent matches were flushed down the toilet, the candle placed back next to the circular bed. I moved quickly, not wanting to stay here for too long. The promise of a hot sanitizing shower and much needed sleep was a big enough motivator. I finished and took another quick scan to make sure I left nothing behind. After checking to make sure I had both my key and clutch on me, I grabbed the room key and headed out the room.

The guy from the front counter was standing in the hall across from the room. He jumped as he saw me come out, and he was visibly uncomfortable. I tossed him the key and pulled out a few bills from the clutch.

“For your troubles,” I told him, passing him the cash. The guy looked hesitant and extremely cautious but he didn’t say anything and just took the money.
I gave him a last tight smile before I turned to leave the building with my resurrected alias tucked under my arm.

The cold wind swallowed me up as I stepped outside. I inhaled deeply and sighed, the clean air sweet on my tongue and a welcome change from the thick clogging air of the motel. I probably smelled like cigarettes and cologne or something for being in there for less than half an hour, but all I care about was that it was over and done with.
Quickly, I crossed the street and headed to my car. I had just unlocked the door when I felt eyes on me over my shoulder. I paused, then turned to my left.
Just up the street, there was a man leaning against one of the buildings, peeking out from the alleyway. He was holding his phone up in front of him as if he was texting someone, but the way he was standing very still was odd and subtly unnatural.
He was taking a picture of me.

He stiffened briefly when he noticed my staring, but then casually turned around and disappeared into the alley.
I frowned, staring after him for a few seconds before getting into my car. An informant; and I just may know for whom.