Black Moth

Alliance between Black Moth and Seven Star was still not confirmed, but Jiseung could assume the odds were in his favor when the Sahas left for the hotel they would be staying in. Jiseung reasoned that it was best to separate the two mob leaders in case something were to run amiss and Naagpathi agreed; the Parks would be paying for the rooms so why not?

It was nearing one in the morning when the Sahas were delivered to a five-star hotel in Busan’s city limits. The lobby glistened with stone and crystal, but the rooms greatly impressed. Nikita and Naagpathi were each given their own hotel suite, which included three bedrooms and a kitchenette. The living room was seated with plush white furniture and a large plasma screen television.

Nikita set her bag down beside the master bed and let out a long sigh. Kicking off her heels into a random corner of the room, she went to the window and opened the curtains to get a glimpse of Busan alone. It was brighter than Dhaka, or at least in Nikita’s opinion. It was overall cleaner, brighter, and a wealthier place to be. Even as years rolled by, Bangladesh continued to deal with political and social unrest, forever accustomed to the riots and destruction that ravaged the land.

“So what did you think?” Naagpathi’s question interrupted Nikita’s thoughts of her homeland.

She turned from the window to see her father drifting in the doorway. “I think Jiseung may have changed my mind.”

Naagpathi raised his eyebrows. “How so?” he asked. “You seemed quite eminent that they were not-”

“Yes, that was before Park laid out the statistics, the imagery of how we will succeed together.” There was also the topic of his oldest son. Nikita hated to admit that she was smitten with Park Sungwoong, but she couldn’t help herself. Besides, it had been a while since she had been involved with a man and a fling with an opposing mobster may not be such a bad idea as long as there were no strings attached. She would worry more about that later.

“Yes, but…do you wonder about their loyalty?”

The question threw Nikita slightly off-guard. “Their loyalty?”

“We are Bengali and they are Korean; we have next to nothing in common in culture or anything. What makes you think they will remain true to their word and not turn on us once we have our roots planted within Seven Star territory?”

Nikita narrowed her eyes at her father. “Did you in any way pick that up from Park Jiseung tonight? Or are you testing me?”

Naagpathi shrugged. “I’m simply asking for your opinion.”

“And I gave it to you,” Nikita replied shortly. “How many times must I repeat myself?”

“Since your opinion has changed since the plane ride, perhaps many,” Naagpathi smirked.

“Well, this is my final opinion: form the alliance with Seven Star. If all else fails and they do turn on us, we have the man power and can make a backup plan should the need arise. Weren’t you the one who taught me to trust no one, especially your friends?”

“You do listen,” was all Naagpathi said and turned to return to his own suite.

Nikita grit her teeth and looked back to the window, trying to hide her sudden annoyance. When the door shut, she turned to Solum who had been standing quietly in the corner next to the bathroom. “Can you believe him?” she demanded. “He asks for my opinion and then treats it like its some game, like I’m still in training and having to be schooled on these topics.” She sniffed, shutting the door, but still speaking loud enough so Solum could hear as began to undress. “He has absolutely no respect for me, does he?” It seemed to be rhetorical because she continued on. “He will never let me have Black Moth because he’ll make the excuse that I don’t put my input in or am wrong in my decisions or don’t have the experience, yet it will all be his fault!”

She opened the door, dressed in a baggy shirt and sweats. Her hair was slightly disheveled from the night and her hurried movements in changing. She looked to Solum as if expecting for him to give her an answer before turning her gaze away towards the kitchen. Her men had supplied the refrigerator with her snacks, fresh vegetables and fruit. She took a bag of cut celery and began to munch on it immediately.

Sighing, she sat down on the couch and propped her feet up on the coffee table. “What do I do, Solum?”

The head guard had his hands folded in front of him, his expression never have changed during the entire rant session his client aired. “Why are you so threatened that you will not be given Black Moth? You’re his only child and you have expressed your interests and knowledge enough that I know Mr. Saha is not stupid enough to think of giving it to anyone else. You deserve it, even more than him.”

Nikita smiled slightly, her eyes stuck on the television that was still off. “I never get tired of hearing you say that, Solum. Thank you.”

Solum bowed his head. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must go check with my man to make sure security is in place.”

--
Sungwoong sighed heavily as he undid his tie, eying himself in the mirror. After the Sahas left in the late in the night, Jiseung rounded Sungwoong up for other business matters as well as discussion their thoughts of Black Moth. Both were positive; they assumed the Sahas would be worthy companions in the organized crime circuit.

“So how’d it go?” Junseong asked as she stepped into the room without so much as a knock. Sungwoong glanced at her in the mirror. She was wrapped in a strapless wine-colored dress that came to her mid-thigh. Six-inch heels propped her up on lean, sculpted legs. Her obsidian hair was slightly waved. Her lined eyes looked at her brother expectantly.

“Very well,” said Sungwoong, turning to face his sister. “Black Moth will be good counterparts. Naagpathi Saha is slightly more arrogant than I’d appreciate, but he’s good with money. And his daughter…” A smirk formed on Sungwoong’s face, “she’s a very…passionate woman as well as beautiful.”

Junseong raised an eyebrow before smiling coyly. “She must have been pretty good then.”

“Unfortunately, she only gave me a taste rather than a full bite, but we’ll be seeing each other often when our father’s combine businesses…”

“She seems to have really left an impact on you,” noted Junseong, folding her arms delicately.

“Very much so,” Sungwoong agreed, running a hand through his hair to loosen it from its hold. “Have you heard anything from Songyeong?”

Junseong shook her head. “Nope, but I’m sure he’ll pop up in the morning. Or in a couple days, whenever he needs a vacation. But I see you’re tired so I won’t question you on the Bengali vixen anymore tonight, but tomorrow,” she pointed a finger at him and winked, “you’re getting drilled.”

Sungwoong chuckled and nodded.

--

Sungwoong’s daily routine was strict, if other matters did not present themselves. If he had a busy day of unusual arrangements, his morning routine was always the same. He rose at 5AM every morning to workout at the gym in the mansion’s basement. It included a wide collection of exercise equipment as well as punching bags and a sparring mat. It was the perfect place for Park Jiseung’s men to train to be lethal—including his own son. All the Park children were expected to rise in greatness at some level. Sungwoong, being firstborn, was first in line for inheriting Seven Star if a) he didn’t die first or b) ended up being a horrible delegate for the throne. An example being his younger brother. However, Sungwoong did not disappoint. From a young age, he became his father’s shadow and learned all the ins and outs of what it took to run a business, whether legal or illegal.

There was something else about Sungwoong, something he himself never understood why his father asked such a thing of his son. From that same young age, Sungwoong was trained to be a fighter. Not like the experienced self-defense that Nikita was taught, but legitimate killing techniques. Jiseung had asked a man by the name of Sungjoon to train his son in the most lethal matters possible. The mission had long since been accomplished and if customers or threats needed to be rid of, Jiseung felt completely comfortable sending his son and heir to do the dirty work.

Gon, Sungwoong’s Doberman Pincher, raised his head when another person walked down the steps, feet planting quietly on the cold floor. Sungjoon aged well, like Sungwoong’s father, and it was hard to tell his age. He was at least fifteen years older than Sungwoong, who would be forty-three the coming January. However, Sungjoon was still fit and trim with a goatee and a thick head of hair that still remained black as his eyes. What his origins were, no one knew, but he had been handed the oldest Park child and told to turn him into a ruinous being. He had completed the task within five years, happy with the results. During the time of training, Sungwoong and Sungjoon had grown close. While Sungwoong grew up as the oldest sibling, he had the other man to look up to as an older brother.

Sungwoong slowed in his running on the treadmill when he spotted the lone man in the mirror in front of him. He stepped off the treadmill and it came to an eventual stop.

“Hyung, its been a while!” Sungwoong exclaimed, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

Sungjoon held out a hand and Gon ducked his head, letting the calloused palm sweep over his sleek fur. “You haven’t been around to visit me so I thought I’d make sure you were alright.” In the last five years, Sungjoon was offered a retirement. He would be moved along the coast, wherever he wanted, but in a small populous area. He would be given a weekly stipend for his years of loyal servitude to spend as he pleased in the eases of retirement. In jeans and button-up short sleeved shirt, Sungjoon looked nothing like a former member of Seven Star. However, if his buttons were to come undone, the seven black stars would be shown clearly across his chest.

“It’s been crazy,” Sungwoong said, throwing the towel over the treadmill’s hand. “But that’s no excuse to forget about my teacher.”

“It’s not.” Sungjoon shook his finger at the younger man. “I didn’t realize how boring my life had become until you stopped showing up. You don’t come to me asking for advice anymore.”

“That’s because you taught me everything you know,” said Sungwoong with a smirk.

“From women to making a clean kill,” Sungjoon agreed. “Sources tell me that Black Moth has come into town and asked for your father’s hand in holy criminal union.”

Sungwoong nodded. “At first, I was uncertain, but I think it will be a good investment in the end.”

“Seven Star will be the first gang they’ve reached out to; you realize how big this is.”

“Of course I do.” Sungwoong cocked his head to one side, looking at his old teacher with furrowed brows. “Why? You sound like you know something.”

“I wouldn’t word it as ‘know’, but I’ve heard things…” Sungjoon trailed off at the tensing from the opposing man. He waved a hand and made his tone lighter. “I wouldn’t ponder too much on it. I trust your judgement and if you think it’s a good choice then it very well could be. But I’ll recommend you just watch yourself.”

“I always do.”

A smile broke across Sungjoon’s worn face. “Good. Now, I believe that you and your mongrel must be hungry. How about I treat you to breakfast in the city?”

--

Introverts needed time alone, some needing it more than others. If isolation could not be offered to them at some point during a few day’s time, they grow edgy and irritable. Nikita was experiencing the lows. It seemed everywhere she turned there was someone there; it came to the point she believed she could not pee alone.

The next morning, when Naagpathi mentioned visiting one of Black Moth’s associates who had already begun dealing in weapons and sex, Nikita was eager to persuade her father to go. The dealer may be able to give them a lowdown on Seven Star, beings they had spent many years in Korea already. Nikita used that as the excuse to get her father out of her way and lower the numbers of guards lurking around.

Since Naagpathi would be in the open and mobile, Solum went with him and took a majority of their men. Nikita was left with only five guards, all perfectly capable of protecting her if a rogue housekeeper decided to stop by. The level of danger was higher on Naagpathi since the Sahas location was only known to the Parks—supposedly.

Nikita sat by the window she had peered at the night before. Her feet were curled underneath her as she read from a book of poetry Sungwoong offered her. It was filled with haikus of the most beautiful and simplistic kind. Nikita lost herself in the words, eyes scanning slowly over each syllable, drinking it all in.

A sound came from the next room. Nikita hardly had any time to respond when the clear signs of a struggle came from her father’s suite. Her eyes shot to the one remaining man in her suite. She had begged for them to give her some alone time and ushered them into her father’s seat. Now, she only had him.

He looked at her and motioned for her to stay in the bedroom before pulling a gun from a back holster. The sounds continued in the next room before someone finally got off a gunshot. Nikita flinched, but had inched towards the door and ducked next to the wall beside it, ready to make an escape through the only exit she had—unless she wanted to jump through the window and fall twenty stories.

She looked to the opposite side of the room. The room service cart still sat from breakfast and if Nikki remembered correctly—

The door burst open and in rushed three Korean men. The guard got off two rounds, nailing one of them in the arm, but unable to save himself from a gut shot. He fell, gripping his wound and the gun was kicked away from him. The shortest of the three gangsters held a gun above the guard’s head, but another one quickly interrupted.

“We need him alive,” he said in Korean. He wasn’t the tallest, but the broadest with the cleanest cut face and a casual suit that hid all his tattoos. The other two looked like vandals off the streets—as they were. “We’ll take him and the girl. Now where is she?”

The tallest Korean, with tattoo sleeves scattering down his arms was moving towards the bedroom. Nikita could hear his footsteps on the soft carpet, feel his presence drawing closer. It was now or she would be totally defenseless. She shot forward, across the doorway and clear in his sight. The man started at the sudden movement and pulled up his gun, moving in. Nikita grasped the large cutting knife laying on the car and swung. The gangster ducked just in time and stumbled back, taken off guard by the sudden ferocity he was facing. Nikita swung again, sending him back. With his long legs, he pinned himself up against the wall in a stride. He raised his gun to shoot, eyes wide. Nikita heard the faint bellow of command from the leading Korean, probably telling his man not to pull the trigger. Blood was rushing in her ears as her body went into attack mode.

Nikita ducked the shut and it shattered the lamp instead of her skull. She grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted it, sending the joint dislocating and the gun falling. Then, she spun, twisting the elbow this time and sending her back up against his body and flipped the knife into a different handling position. Crossing her right arm over her body, the blade sunk in between the man’s ribs. Over and over again. He choked, trying to break free, but Nikita stabbed harder feeling blood pooling over her hand and onto her head as the man choked. Finally, she spun back around and just to be sure, slammed the knife into his heart until only the hilt remained.

The man was staring at her with shock even as he quickly died, bleeding excessively against the expensive white carpet. Nikita’s instincts were still high and she turned to face on the oncoming threat. A fist met her in the face and she stumbled back. However, she regained herself by grabbing the dresser and kicked out, knocking the head gangster in the chest. Then, she charged. A growl tore through her throat as she grasped his suit jacket and prepared to go in for a leg wheel.

However, the man broke her hold by grasping her wrists and digging his fingers into the nerves there, sending shooting pain up her arms. Nikita had no choice, but let go and when she did, she was forced around wickedly by her arms. The movement nearly dislocated her shoulders until she came in contact with a solid chest and a firm arm wrapped around her neck, subduing her in a common chokehold. Nikita tried to dig her chin to save herself for air, but it was too late.

The man’s forearm was hard against her throat, cutting off any source of oxygen. Nikita kicked and elbowed with all her might, but the man held tight. The other gangster grabbed her feet before she could do any damage.

The rims of Nikita’s vision became spotty, lining itself in black. She tried to keep herself conscious, summon a way that Solum had taught her on how to get out of this. Her movements grew weaker. Blood still rushed in her ears as her lips began to turn. Then she went limp in the man’s hold and he waited several more seconds before releasing her.

“Restrain her. We need to go.” Nikita’s wrists and ankles were zip-tied. The gangster picked her up and threw her over his shoulder while the leader grasped the still-living guard. He grabbed the strands of his dark hair and said in broken English, “try anything and we kill her right here and now.” The Bengali man glared, but said nothing.

When the suit door was opened, there was a housekeeping cart waiting for them. Nikita’s unconscious form was slipped inside and covered with dirty towels. Then, the three men carried on down the hallway like nothing had happened. The leader had his hand curled around the guard’s arm. They took the stairs, walking and descending briskly. The guard tried to look behind him at the cart where his boss’ daughter lay, but nothing seemed to have happened. Confusion swept over him.

When they disappeared into the stairwell, a woman appeared from the next room and began pushing the cart. She passed right by the rooms where gunshots and blood remained as if nothing had happened. She seemed completely at ease, pressing the down button of the elevator and stepping inside the metal lift. When she reached the ground floor, she stepped out and began to wheel the cart along, slipping past guests and the concierge. The maid traveled through the back hallways, nodding to the staff members she met.

Breaking free from inside the hotel, she rolled the cart down the ramp and through an alley for several feet. A black van was parked to one side. The maid rolled the cart alongside the van and the door opened. The main removed the pile of dirty towels and two men grasped the body of Nikita Saha, pulling her inside. The leading gangster was sitting in the passenger seat and threw her a small leather bag. The maid caught it, unzipped it to look inside at large sum of hard cash inside. She looked up and nodded. The leader nodded back and the van sped away.

--

When Solum saw the crowds and police cars lined up outside the hotel, his stomach dropped to the car’s floorboards. He motioned for the driver to slow as he peered out the window at the situation.

“What is it?” said Naagpathi, pulling himself towards the front. His eyes widened at the sight. “No.”

“Sir-”

“Let me out of here!” Naagpathi snarled, almost crawling over a guard’s lap to get at the door.

The driver stopped the car and the guard got out, nearly being trampled by Naagpathi in the process. He ran onto the sidewalk, passing through security barriers with Solum right on his heels. Police went to stop him.

“No, you don’t understand! My daughter is in there! She’s—where is she? Where is my daughter?” Naagpathi was rattling between English and Bangla, hoping to get his point across. However, the officers didn’t seem to understand as they took hold of his jacket to remove him. “Let me go!”

Solum stopped one of the police officers and began translating in Korean what Naagpathi had just said, except calmer. The officer nodded and commanded his man to release the Bengali man.

“Ask them where she is,” Naagpathi pleaded to Solum, brown eyes wide and rimmed with despair. “She’s not here, is she?”

Solum turned to the officer. “What happened?” he asked. “Is Nikita Saha here?”

The officer opened his mouth to speak when he glimpsed down at the collar of Solum’s jacket. A black silver moth was pinned there. “Come with me,” he said.

He led them towards the ambulances where several gurneys with occupied body bags were placed. At the sight, Naagpathi nearly fell to his knees, but Solum grasped him around the waist and told him not to jump to such brash conclusions. He was trying to remain neutral in the situation and it was hard with Naagpathi’s constant wailing in his ears.

The officer approached an aging man with a thick face and small eyes. The officer explained what Solum had told him and the man nodded, never taking his eyes off Solum. In return, Solum noted the badge hanging off the man’s belt—an inspector.

“Inspector Kim Taewoo,” said the new cop before turning away and leading them towards the first body bag. Without hesitating for further explanation, he unzipped the black plastic to reveal one of Nikita’s guards. “This your guy?” He looked pointedly at the black moth pin that Solum and all the Black Moth staff wore.

Solum nodded. “Yes.” He looked at the other body bags—five. “Are all of them my men?”
“All of them, but one,” said Taewoo, unzipping each bag so Solum could verify. The last bag unzipped told the truth. “This is some punk that we’ve been looking for for a few months now. I don’t think he belongs to you.” Besides the lack of a black pin, the man was dressed in street clothes, covered in tattoos, and—what clearly gave it away—was Korean.

“What’s he saying?” asked Naagpathi breathlessly. “Do they know where Nikita’s at? What happened?”

“I had five men,” said Solum, disregarding his boss’ plea. He met Taewoo’s eyes. “They were guarding a young woman. Was there any sign of her?”

Inspector Kim shook his head. “Nope, just these four laying in one suit and the Korean in the other. There was blood in one spot near the bathroom, but the body’s been removed. There’s prints on the knife we found in our Korean friend, may have belonged to your missing man.”

“But no sign of the woman.”

Inspector Kim shook his head again. “None.”

Solum breathed deeply, his jaw clenching as he stared down at the dead Korean. His men had guns and wouldn’t resort to a knife. Carefully, he peeled back the plastic a little more to see the total damage done to the Korean. Definitely Nikita’s style.

“What is happening?” Naagpathi spat, grabbing Solum by the jacket and shaking him fiercely.

“Nikita is nowhere to be found,” Solum explained blunty, prying his boss’ hands off his jacket. “And one of my men is missing, possibly wounded.”

“Well, then find her,” Naagpathi growled. He pointed wickedly at Inspector Kim. “Tell him to find Nikita! Now!”

Inspector Kim cleared his throat. “I can see he’s upset.” Clearly, Solum thought. “Please, tell him that Inspector Kim and myself will be sure to find the young woman—his daughter I’m guessing?”

Solum nodded. “Nikita Saha, daughter of Naagpathi Saha, my boss and this man.” Solum gestured dismissively at still fuming Naagpathi. “And you said Inspector Kim? Isn’t that you?”

“My brother, actually,” Inspector Kim said. “Kim Taehoon. He’s up looking through the crime scene now. But please assure your boss here that we will do everywhere we can to find Ms. Saha.”

Solum bowed slightly. “Thank you. We appreciate your cooperation.”

Inspector Kim nodded his head. “Now, I hate to ask this especially since your boss looks like he’s about to have a stroke, but we need to take him down to our precinct. Just to ask a couple questions so we know what we’re dealing with here.”

Inspector Kim knew exactly what he was dealing with. He had been involved with gang activity for years, though it wasn’t his specialty. As soon as he heard the name Saha—no, as soon as he saw the Bengali victims, he knew that overseas tradings were happening. There had been word of the furiously growing Black Moth gang in Bangladesh and one of the suspected leaders was a Saha. However, Kim had no concrete evidence to even mention it to anyone and so he decided to go down the more peaceful route of acting naïve.

Solum repeated the words to Naagpathi in Bangla. His face went from pale to an ugly shade of purple. “They want to what?” Solum hurriedly tried to explain to Naagpathi that this was what would help in finding Nikita. After more shouting from Naagpathi and sensible debating from Solum, it was finally put into agreement that Naagpathi would cooperate and join Inspector Kim at the precinct.