08: 'OR A VERY BIG MIDDLE FINGER'

AKA THE TIME AFTER CANNIBALISM COMES THE...

      

       

B R E A K I N G N E W S !

"- fire is still being put out at the hospital known for its high profile clients from conglomerate children to politicians -"

" - evacuation of patients successful, though not totally unscathed-"

"- the Vice President's only daughter was seen leaving the scene-"

"- as this goes on, the government has implemented a seizing of files after a heinous crime syndicate is initially reported to be holding court at the hospital -"

"-remains and surgical equipment will be used as evidence, promised an unknown source inside the Blue House-"

"- Cannibals! Under a hospital! Ingenious if I do say so, if that isn't too disgusting for your dinner plans-"

"Good lord, is this how you watch TV? It's deafening." Grayson clicked off the fourth television, shut another laptop, and turned off Minwoo's phone. If a normal person saw this scene - a guy in the middle of the floor surrounded by numerous laptops, computers and phones as they all told varying news of the same story - you too would be disturbed.

"It's four in the morning too, what are you doing up?"

"Adrenaline." He turned his arm, tapping his blue-green veins. His skin was pale enough to become translucent. "Also there's still a ringing in my ear that I can't get out."

"Mine's gone." Grayson checked the phone. "No calls?"

"I modified the phone to block all calls from the agent. It's proving to be difficult because he seems to have armed himself with ten thousand different numbers per second. It'll last for thirty more minutes before his calls start going through again." Minwoo picked up the phone. "Maybe I should just set in on fire?"

"D'you think he'll come here?"

Minwoo shrugged. Then opened another banana milk drink and drank deep. He had gone through his weekly supply once again and it's only been three days.

At least the breaking news from eight different news sources have stopped. He wondered if he needs to hide the laptops again. And the two computers. But Minwoo has a habit of finding them just as fast.

Grayson sighed.

"Try to sleep, why don't you? The points haven't knocked off yet, and though that gets me antsy, I'd still like some semblance of a full sleep."

Minwoo sucked the drink dry then threw it at the trash... and didn't go in. "They're debating if they're going to reward or punish us. We'll see to it in the morning - either the agent or knocked off points. Maybe they might even add points for it."

"You destroyed half a block. I won't be shocked."

"I can't sleep. Going for a walk."

He stood up abruptly and Grayson sighed again, only offering him a wave as he trudged back to his room.

"Try not to beat anyone up."

"Not unless they piss me off."

Grayson snorted. "Don't bring your cane then."

"I nearly blew myself to pieces today. I feel exceptionally fragile."

"Bringing your cane is literally -" the door slammed shut. " - overkill."

Grayson sighed again, then flopped, stomach first, on his bed. It was a queen's sized that barely fit the room, but it was a nice, quiet space that he had for his own. He snuggled his head to his pillow and muttered, "dear lord, please help whatever bastard crosses paths with the devil tonight. He's bringing his cane with him and he's in a damn foul mood. Night."

• • •

It reached days before the agent finally made contact. Whether it was due to calming his anger down, appeasing his superiors, or breaking through Minwoo's extensive screening process that when it finally does - emits a shrill, high pitched sound, then he shuts him out again for another thirty minutes - a quiet but demanding text finally came one lunch.

Grayson swallowed a dumpling, his mouth sticky with jajangmyeon sauce, when Minwoo checked the screen.

He continued to chew as he showed the screen to Grayson.

ETA - 13:15.

COORDINATES - ** ** ** **

PREP FOR CONTACT.

PAUL CHOI.

Grayson swallowed, then checked his watch. "That's about fifteen minutes. The coordinates are our house. Why does he have to sound so... robotic?"

Minwoo plucked his phone back and continued on with his noodles. Less of a vigour than Grayson's, but far more primly. "It calms him and makes him look better."

"He looks like a dick."

Knocks swept the door.

"This is Paul Choi."

Grayson disentangled himself with several groans and murmurings of an old man and leaned against the door, a smile in place.

"Hello Paul Choi, we have no idea who you are but if you come back - let's say in twenty minutes - we'll get back to whatever problem you have."

The agent cleared his throat, and through obvious forced acting, "Its a really important matter sir. My wife is missing."

Minwoo snorted, flicking through his phone. Grayson held his laugh.

"Oh, your poor wife. Has she fled you because of your dashing good looks or money? I'm sure she'll be back. As they say - set her free and if it's true love, she will come back. Was she the apple of your eye?"

"E-excuse me? How is that relevant-"

"It is very relevant, my good man!" Grayson raised his voice almost imperatively like an old man scolding a young husband. "For love is the very foundation - adoration, trust, and communication. Have you been communicating? How were the nights spent?"

"What?"

"Good marriages done it out at least five times a week. I think it's the candles. Did you buy her glade or unscented? I mean, it's a ball buster-"

"-you know what?" He hissed through the door, his voice low and irritated. "If you don't want some news on your goddamn points then-"

That's the same time Grayson swung back the door abruptly, nearly letting the agent fall on his ass. He'd done in simple clothes - jeans, plaid shirt, sneakers, dear god - and kept his hair low and shaggy. Adopted some glasses, a fake nose, and even portruding teeth.

"Helloooo Paul Choi!" Grayson beamed. "We will be getting your wife no - oh is it a man?" Dramatic gasp. "No matter, no matter. True love is real either way! Come in, come in, let us discuss your missing boyfriend."

• • •

"You really do enjoy being an irritation?" The agent peeled off his fake nose and glared. "Your landlady was just at the landing, peeking and being inconspicuous about it."

Minwoo piled up the finished plates to at least make way for a decent conversation. "I think she said, 'I knew it' when boyfriends were mentioned."

As the agent glared at Minwoo's back, Grayson cracked a grin and slid beside the agent like old budddies. Shoulders up and touching very close like primary school kids until the agent shoved him off with unsurprising strength.

"She does that sometimes," Grayson continued, unfazed. "She likes knowing about people's business. To her, we're the most interesting people she's ever come to know. We're part of the neighbourhood gossip every week."

"Isn't that a bad thing?"

Grayson stuck a thumb at Minwoo who has now switched back to his tablet, his fingers quick. "He has surveillance on everyone on the neighburhood, plus their relatives and cats."

"I am not stupid," Minwoo muttered with a roll of his eyes.

The agent sighed. "Anyway. What you left me with... I hope you know that was enough to fire this project to the ground. Did you even think about the consequences?"

"I-" Grayson was interrupted by a sharp look from the agent, then Minwoo turned to him with his dead eyes, ones that have seen hell itself and dined with Satan, brought himself back something that's not of this world.

"I did. But I had hedged my bets that your superiors need us more than they care to admit. You righteous bastards need someone to do the dirty work while keeping your hands clean of it. Someone you know is hungry, begging for it, holding hope like a steak. Like a saint. And like this, you fight demon with demon. All the while you saints sit in your high chairs, almighty and perfect, away from the war you've started. The battles you win without lifting a finger."

Silence. Then Grayson whistled.

"I think, in a context, there's a threat there, Agent Kim. Or a very big middle finger."

"It's not a threat, it's facts. So if you're going to lecture me today, I really don't have enough patience." He swished his hand. At home, or what was temporary living quarters, he'd keep his hands open and free. He wore gloves at work out of precaution. But as soon as the agent said he was coming, he had worn them.

The agent stared, then sighed.

"Contrary to popular belief, I hadn't come here to reprimand either. Things have been... hectic at work. After the hospital, a lot of strings were pulled. The place has gone tight. And there were serious considerations to end the program. Files were sent to main base but all of them had been thrown out. No one wants this program to fail. Though it is completely unorthodox -"

Grayson's smirk was sharp. "- really can't compliment can you?"

"- it works," he finished with a heavy look. "So yes, you'll still get your cut offs, but 3% less than what was proposed."

Minwoo took his cane. "5% sounds far more suitable."

"The names. Clients. You only gave the operation."

"Ah, but I never promised the clients. Our specific agreement was the operation itself - and the only way we would ever gain access inside is having someone important they know. Yes, we could ask the president if it came to it," the agent twitched, "but not to challenge the president's acting abilities, the operation is specific and detailed when it came to clients. We needed someone powerful to intimidate, and government officials with records wiped aren't good enough. We would never have pulled off just entering and you know it.

So we needed the Madam. And if we wanted her to play, much more play on my side. I needed to bet something she'd want. Heinous high profile people was enough."

The agent's face was grim. "In her position, her currency are secrets. You just made her powerful beyond belief."

Minwoo shrugged. "I can't argue with that. But it's that or test the waters with an operation that could last for years in preparation. I took the quickest one that suited me and got you what you wanted. So tell me, agent, what else are you for here than mindless chatter with a psychopath and confirmation of our points?"

Grayson shot a hand in the air. "I vote for 5% less or I am rioting!"

"I will talk to my superiors," the agent muttered begrudgingly.

"Talk to them today. Or better yet, convince them. Tell them Grayson will personally hand deliver his plead to their houses in forms of aerosol poisoning, so unless they want their children and mothers dead in their beds - they should consider it thoughtfully and rapidly." Minwoo nodded at the door. But the agent kept his position, hesitating.

"I have more information about the prosecutor's wife that might help your investigation." He pulled a file from his horrid plaid. "The prosecutor was hesitant to give it out, and it hasn't been made public anywhere so you would never have known."

At Minwoo's raised eyebrow, the agent rolled his eyes. "Yes, you wouldn't have known it. The prosecutor himself had made sure the traces were never found anywhere. He hired some POSTECH students and they're good. Scary good."

He opened the folder and showed them the only piece of paper inside. The two peered in, Grayson far more excited than Minwoo who looked at the challenge with an upturned nose.

Grayson gasped and started laughing. Minwoo made a face.

"Of course," he murmured as Grayson doubled over like a donkey, snorting and gasping with laughter. "Because a missing persons isn't just enough. Cults have to be involved."

SOME MENTIONS:

You might already know these, you might not, but for the sake of explanation & knowledge of useless little fun facts - the Blue House is the executive office and official resident of South Korea's head of state, the president of the Republic of Korea. The buildings have blue roofs with a traditional trademark of Korea's old houses. • POSTECH is Pohang University of Science and Technology. It's kind of like MIT. • I'm actually not sure how gangs work, or like, Korean Mafia, but this is set in an alternative future full of crime, so I'm just making it the worst it can be. | Also... mayhaps, Minwoo snapped.