Chapter Text
It began with Taeyong.
He did not seem like a criminal mastermind when he was sat, curled up, in an old armchair so faded that the original pattern was no longer visible. He sat on his hands to prevent pulling on his bitten nails with his teeth, face hidden by shadows in a dim flat almost void of furniture. The only evidence that anyone lived there was the scattered trail of belongings littered across the floor with no sense of order. Mark sat among the mess, his face illuminated by a dim laptop screen.
“I can see them,” he announced, his voice echoing around the room and finally causing Taeyong to stir, to sit up straight and fully pay attention. “It was just a standard security camera. It’s almost their own fault, really. They need tighter security.”
“And you know you won’t be found out?” asked Taeyong. He did not like to consider himself nervous or overbearing; he preferred the term ‘thorough’, wanting every little thing to be done perfectly.
“It's never happened before,” reassured Mark. “And you told me you wanted an entire visual on the bank. I can’t get that without some risk, hyung.”
Mark was right – they had used this plan before, and Taeyong had learnt how much faith he had to put into the younger member.
"Okay," murmured Taeyong. His hands finally crept to his mouth, blood beginning to pool in droplets where he tore on dry skin. "Keep an eye on them."
Sicheng had sat in a bar, smiling coyly at the man who had taken the bar stool next to him without trying to seem too desperate. Sicheng had done research, had watched the man from across the flashing lights of the night club for most of the evening before catching his eye and taking a seat with an intentional empty space beside him. Every move was calculated, from the way that his delicate fingers slid down the stem of his drink glass to the way that he licked the liquid from his lips after every sip.
“Can I buy you a drink?” Sicheng had asked, almost as soon as he noticed the man glancing back at his smile. He did not turn his head to meet the stranger completely, but instead asked whilst looking at him by looking at the side through strands of hair that had fallen from behind his ear. His request was met with a bright smile.
“Of course, “ answered the man, edging closer to Sicheng in a way that made the younger blush. This job was a lot more fun when the person on the other end was willing to return the advances. “You’re pretty cute, you know.”
“Thanks,” giggled Sicheng – he knew that, that was why he was there instead of any of the others. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“What can I call you?”
“Ah,” smiled Sicheng, edging closer to the man. “You can call me Winwin."
By the time the man had managed to finish the three drinks that Sicheng had offered to buy him, Sicheng himself had only just finished one. Still, he acted as drunk as the man needed to think he was. He slurred his words together into a mess of badly pronounced Korean syllables, mixing up grammar and laughing lightly at his own mistakes. "Where did you say you worked again?"
The man sounded much worse than Sicheng did. “The bank,” he murmured. “I’m a…a…night guard.”
“You must be so strong and manly to do that job,” complimented Sicheng, going as far to rest his head on the bigger man’s shoulder. The man smiled; Sicheng hated himself, but he punctuated the move by wrapping two hands around the man's upper arm. “Do you do it all on your own?”
“No, I…”
The man hiccupped. Sicheng tried not to laugh.
“I do it…with other people…there’s three of us each night.”
“Still, three isn’t many. You must be really brave!”
“I am, sweetheart.”
The man put his arm around Sicheng’s shoulders. The gun strapped to his thigh became very tempting. Sicheng was not sure whether he would rather use it on the man or himself as an escape, but he took a deep breath and kept thoughts of bullets from filling his mind. “It must be so tiring,” he continued, nuzzling closer to the stranger until he could smell the alcohol on his breath and the tobacco smoke embedding in the fibres of his clothes. It was just one more piece of information. Sicheng had done worse for missions like this before. “Do you work till really, really early in the morning? No one should ever be that tired!”
“You’re adorable,” mumbled the man, pulling Sicheng even close to him. “It’s not…too bad. Only from eight at night, and then we’re gone by five the next morning. We all do it in shifts so no one takes two nights in a row.”
That was what Sicheng needed. He pulled away. “I really need to go now,” he announced, pouting to try and make it seem as if he was genuinely upset. “Maybe I can see you again sometime.”
"Why don't you cancel whatever you're supposed to be doing and come back home with me? It's not safe to be by yourself out there," called the man as Sicheng turned away, but his words were lost under the thumping bass of speakers as the young boy strode confidently towards the door he knew was the back exit. As soon as he was alone in the alley way behind the club, he phoned Taeil.
“Three guards,” relayed Taeil, listening to Sicheng instruct him down the phone. Ten had sat on a wall in their alleyway, waiting for Taeil to pass on the information so that he could get started. “They work from eight till five. He doesn’t think it’s anything special either, no training or anything. Just ordinary people with some extra muscle that makes them look more intimidating.”
“Is there anything else I need to know?” asked Ten. He pulled his mask over his face.
“He apparently tried to take Sicheng back to his place,” grinned Taeil. Ten could hear Sicheng complaining down the phone as Taeil took it away from his ear. “He says if you could kill him in revenge, he wouldn't be mad at you."
Ten’s laugh was muffled through the thick fabric of his mask.
“I haven't seen a target that I'd call attractive yet,” continued Taeil, hanging up the phone with Sicheng mid-sentence. “Sicheng deserves some bonus for taking one for a team each night. You need to go. Johnny and Jeno will meet you at the bank. If you need Kun…”
“I won’t need Kun,” reassured Ten, nodding gently towards Taeil and giving him the slightest salute as a goodbye as he turned on the wall and let his feet hit the tarmac on the other side. He took off running, staying away from the beams of distant streetlights and sticking to abandoned roads as much as he could. The bank they were aiming for was on the other side of the town, but Ten knew of the shortcuts that would get him there as quick as he needed to. As he ran, he took his own phone out of his pocket and dialled the number he always had on speed dial; Mark had already tricked it out, making sure that any call could not be traced by anyone.
“Chenle, we might need you tonight.”
Chenle sighed, waiting on the roof of a skyscraper that overlooked the building they were supposed to be targeting. He would rather have been down there – he could see those who would be in the action hiding in the shadows – but his job was always from a distance, sniper rifle in his hand.
“Do you think you’ll actually have to shoot anyone tonight?” asked a wide-eyed Jisung, watching the weapon that Chenle held closer than Chenle himself. He sat on the wall behind the older boy, so near the edge of the wall that the slightest lean backwards would have sent him tumbling fifty stories to the concrete below. Jisung disregarded fear.
“Ten told me to be ready,” answered Chenle through gritted teeth. “I’ll shoot if I have to.”
“But do you think you’ll actually have to?”
“Jisung, shut it before I shoot you.”
Jisung went quiet, but only for a second. “Have you shot anyone before, hyung?”
“Do you think Taeyong-hyung would let me be here if I stopped every time I had to take a shot?” retorted Chenle. He pulled his rifle closer to his side. “Of course I have.”
“Do you think Taeyong-hyung will let me do it?”
“You’re a baby.”
“I’m barely younger than you!"
“Shut it."
This time, Jisung listened.
“I need you to be completely silent,” continued Chenle, turning from the small boy back to the edge of the roof where they waited. He rested the barrel of his gun on the thin metal barricade. “I need to listen. I will shoot you if you say another word because I’m not having someone I am babysitting ruin this entire plan.”
“Chenle is in position,” explained Ten, as soon as he reached the alleyway where the rest of the team were waiting for him. “If anyone comes after us, he’ll take them down. Three guards. It’s not a great system. Mark is already into the CCTV.”
Johnny nodded, his height not hidden by the shadows. He looked strong, as if he could break someone just by grabbing hold of his wrist, but he was only violent when he needed to be. In real life, he was one of the softest people Ten had ever met. “Jeno is keeping an eye out from a roof over the other side,” he explained, watching as Ten pulled a gun from his pocket. “We’ve got Renjun to get into the safe, and Donghyuck just in case that’s not enough.”
“Oh great, I’ll put Kun on standby if we’re using Donghyuck,” murmured Ten, earning himself a sharp stab in the ribs from the small boy. “Renjun, can you pick the lock on the door?”
“I can try,” answered Renjun, his hair only just peeking out from his dark hood. "But they might have a better lock than we think if they're not even trying with their security."
He knelt by the door, head pressed against the glass as he messed with the lock on the side door into the staff entrance of the bank. For a moment, that was the only noise before Renjun sighed.
“Is it not working?” asked Johnny, bending down to the same height as the small boy. “It's flimsy, we don't even need Donghyuck. Want us to kick it down?”
“People will hear us if you do that,” countered Renjun. He still tried, even though the lock did not respond to his orders.
“People are going to hear us anyway, it's okay,” reassured Johnny. “We move fast, got it? On the count of three.”
Johnny shattered the glass with a single kick by the end of his countdown. He did not need to speak to give an order, pushing forward with the three others behind him moving into the bank where alarms had begun to blare and people were beginning to take interest. “Okay,” murmured Ten, keeping his back against a wall, his mask pulled over his face and his eyes fixed on a security camera which had instantly focused on them. “Mark showed you the blueprints, yeah? He’s got control over the security system. There’s two ways to the safe. I’ll take Renjun. Johnny, take Donghyuck. Meet you there in, ten minutes? If you see anyone, take no chances.”
“I’ll message Jaemin if we’re going to need someone to get the bloodstains off the walls,” smiled Johnny, pulling his own mask up to hide the grin. Donghyuck and Renjun copied his movement.
“Jaemin’s already on his way,” reassured Ten, taking the joke in all seriousness. “Once Taeil told me that there were guards, it was obvious there were going to be casualties. Anyway, Chenle’s on guard in case someone gets to us before we're ready. When do we ever get out without a kill when he’s aiming at whoever goes after us?”
Johnny smirked; Ten could see it in the small crinkle in his eyes. Without another word, the two groups split and moved through the corridors of the bank to the vault at the back. Johnny and Donghyuck were used to working together, able to move in silence whilst still knowing exactly what they were supposed to be doing. Johnny led the way, his larger frame intimidating as he reaffirmed his grip on the pistol which he kept with him at all times.
After the third corner, he stopped and held back with a finger over his lips. Donghyuck stayed beside him, pushing himself against a wall. “There’s a guard,” whispered Johnny, pressing his finger down slightly on the trigger of his weapon. “I don’t think he saw us.”
“Are you going to shoot him?”
“Do you think it’ll be better if we get caught?”
Donghyuck did not have an answer to that. Johnny took his gun and fired a bullet through the head of the guard. He hoped it was painless.
Jeno watched alone, the wind causing him to shiver as he stood on the roof of the building opposite the bank. He had seen them enter the bank, could hear the alarms drifting on the evening breeze. It would only be a few minutes before someone came to find them, and it was his job to make the call as a warning as soon as he saw the flashing lights of police in the distance.
He kept his phone in his hands, the warmth of the battery almost biting through the chill of the evening weather. He had both Ten and Johnny on speed dial; he hoped they were together, but he knew it was better to call Ten if they needed to get out of there fast. There was also Chenle who would have been sitting a few floors below him, leaning beside a window with his sniper rifle ready. Jeno would have to call him as well, just in case anyone got to close to the bank before Jaehyun could get them away.
He was not the sort of person who liked being alone. He spent far too many of his nights on top of cold buildings, looking over the city with no one except himself. He could not do anything to distract himself; he needed his full attention focused on the city. He hated it, but he was always too scared to argue.
The sound of distant police sirens were just another addition to the city soundscape. They did not scare Jeno like they used to. He was used to how their blue and red lights would reflect off the mirror maze of windows as the cars tore through the traffic of the city. They were his warning sign. He pressed Ten’s number on speed dial.
It was exactly three rings until Ten picked up, the sound of the bank alarm in the background. “Police are on their way,” announced Jeno, forgoing a usual ‘hello’. “You probably have two or three minutes. I’ll tell Chenle. Are you done?”
“Nowhere near,” replied Ten, bitterly. “If we don’t have something, it’ll be worse than getting caught. Get Jaehyun to get here, we’ll need to get out of here fast.”
“Be careful,” warned Jeno, but Ten had already hung up. Jeno sighed, and phoned the second number. “Chenle, they’re on their way. Ten needs you to take them all out if you can, I think they need as much time as possible.”
“Won’t it be suspicious if I take out everyone?” retorted Chenle. Jeno could hear him readying his sniper.
“It’ll be suspicious enough if you just kill one of them,” argued Jeno. “We’ve got alarms on in the bank and police on their way, I think we’re past the point of being suspicious. Just shoot anyone who gets near them, Ten needs more time.”
Jaehyun had been driving around the city for almost too long, trapped in the Seoul city traffic whilst waiting for the call to come through his hands-free device. He had already heard the news on the radio; whoever it was who had taken the bank, the heist was in full swing already. He answered as soon as the phone began ringing with a quick, curt “talk to me”.
“You need to be there fast,” ordered Jeno, and Jaehyun immediately changed direction to speed through the traffic to their target of the night.
“I’m always fast,” he reassured, trying to focus on the road more than his conversation. “You know I’m not told in advance in case I get caught. Who am I picking up?”
“Ten, Johnny, Renjun, Donghyuck,” answered Jeno. “Chenle is taking out police as we speak, you need to be fast. Ten asked for extra time and I think we’re already giving them time that they don’t have. You need to be there as soon as you can and you need to get out of there.”
“On my way. You need to get out of there too. Get back to the safe house, Taeyong and Mark will know what’s happening, it’s all over the news.”
“Of course it is, they aren’t exactly being subtle this evening.”
Jeno hung up as Jaehyun chuckled to himself, making the final turn into the alleyway where he kept the car running to make a quick getaway. He could hear the alarm blaring through his closed windows, even over his roaring engine. Jaehyun had not even counted a minute before the four from the bank were kicking back through the glass in the door, stumbling over the wreckage to clamber into the car and not even being able to instruct Jaehyun to drive before Jaehyun had floored the acceleration and pulled onto the road. He drove as fast as he dared to not arose suspicious, focusing on distance rather than speed.
“You don’t have anything with you,” he commented through gritted teeth. “You failed?”
“We didn’t have enough time,” argued Ten, with the same bitter tone. “We can’t do anything when the police know we’re there before we’re even out of the bank’s reception area.”
“Any casualties?”
“One dead, but I don’t think Jaemin exactly has time to clear up,” said Johnny. “The police are already in there. An officer saw Ten’s face.”
“My mask slipped down!” protested Ten, panicked. “I didn’t realise and it was just so fast and I…I…”
“Calm down,” murmured Jaehyun, taking a hand off his steering wheel to place it comfortingly on Ten’s leg as he sunk into the seat of the car. “You’re not the first person who’s been seen.”
“We didn’t get anything and I got seen by an officer,” muttered Ten, biting down on his lip so hard that the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. “Sooman is going to kill me.”
“Not if Yuta kills the officer first. That’s why we have him. I’ll phone ahead and let him now. Can you remember what the officer looked like?”
Ten nodded.
“Good. I’ll call, you give the description.”
“It wasn’t me, I swear!” cried Jaemin, his hands handcuffed behind his back as the flashes of red and blue lights illuminated his face. “I’m just a kid, you can’t do this.”
“You were found at the scene of a serious bank robbery,” answered the police officer who was holding him still whilst another patted him down to check for concealed weapons. Jaemin was glad he had left his gun with Taeyong. “A bank has been broken into, one guard and two police officers have been killed and you were found on the pavement beside it. You have the right to remain silent, anything you do say can and will be held against you. I’m required to ask how old you are.”
Jaemin did not answer.
“You have to right to stay silent, but if you answer this now then it will be a lot easier when we get to the station.”
“Sixteen.”
“You’re old enough to be considered responsible for your actions.”
“I can’t be considered responsible for something I didn’t do.”
“For now, we’re considering you as a suspect. That doesn’t mean you’re going to be prosecuted. Do you have a parent or guardian we can contact?”
Jaemin nodded; he had practiced this exact situation, just in case. If anyone asked, he was not in contact with his father, his mother worked a night shift and the only person who could come and collect him from the police station was his older brother. Doyoung was going to be thrilled to be playing that role.
“We’ll contact them as soon as we get to the station. What’s your name?”
This question was more complicated. Unlike some of the other members, he did not have a second identity that he could give away whenever he was asked. His name was the only one he had, and there was nothing better. “Jaemin.”
“Okay, Jaemin. You don’t need to be scared. Just climb into the back seat of this police car for me, and we’ll take you down to the station for questioning.”
Yuta spotted the man matching Ten’s description almost as soon as he wandered near to the crime scene. He was wearing a police uniform, but he leant up against a building a few blocks away from the bank and held a cigarette in his trembling hand. The sound of sirens drifted by on the wind.
“Shit, are you okay?” called Yuta, crossing over the road. He faked concern, looking at the grey complexion of the officer as he held the cigarette to his man. “You look as if you’ve seen something bad.”
“Ah, just a rough night,” answered the officer, trying to force a smile.
“I can hear the sirens,” tried Yuta. “Bank robbery, right? Shit, did…did someone die?”
The officer hesitated, but then nodded. “They must have had a sniper,” he explained, not knowing if he was supposed to spread the information but just grateful that someone was willing to listen. “Two other officers, right in front of me. They caught some kid but…I needed some time out.”
“Fuck…”
Yuta’s voice trailed off. He tried to look concerned, but his head was buzzing. He never liked the sound of police catching someone when it had been his own members who had been there. “Do you want anything?” he added, placing an arm around the officer’s shoulders. “Another cigarette? Strong drink? There’s a convenience store nearby, I can…”
Yuta interrupted himself, slipping his dagger out from his sleeve and securing it in his grip before driving the blade through the officer’s neck. Blood began to drip down Yuta’s hands; he did not like the feel of it, retrieving his blade and wiping it off on the officer’s shirt before letting the body drop to the ground. Yuta trod on the cigarette to extinguish it.
He hated his job sometimes.
“Hey!”
The shout was a panicked one. Yuta glanced down the street to see two other officers, guns already out and aiming at him. Yuta swore under his breath, turning and tearing along the pavement as fast as he could. The only sound he could hear was his own beating heart and pounding footsteps but then – a shot.
The searing pain in his abdomen hit him before the realisation that he had been shot. He stumbled, grabbing hold of a brick wall as he tried to turn into an alleyway that would offer him some shelter. He gritted his teeth, feeling his own blood run across his fingers as he desperately held on to his stomach. He could not run anymore. He needed someone.
Kun.
The alleyway lead onto the back entrance to an abandoned convenience store, one which had been for sale and that had already been ransacked bare. The door opened with the slightest touch, allowing Yuta to fall in and stain the tiles beneath with his own crimson blood as the police who had seen him ran past, thinking he had continued further down the road.
Yuta waited, as long as he could bare. He counted seconds with his heart beat, but he was certain that the familiar sound was beginning to slow and when he could stand it no more, he fumbled for the phone in his pocket and held it to his ear after clumsily choosing the right number.
“Kun,” he gasped as soon as he heard the other end pick up, speaking far more painful than he had anticipated.
“Shit, what have you done now?”
Kun’s voice was full of concern, just as it always was. He was the perfect medic, but his habit of assuming the worst had always made Yuta laugh. He did not smile now. “I got shot,” he explained through pained breaths. “I…I don’t think they saw me but…there’s blood, Kun, and I don’t know if it belongs to me or the guy I killed.”
“Where are you?”
“Some…some abandoned shop, I don’t know what road. Kun, please, it…it hurts so much.”
“I’ll get Mark to trace the phone call. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“You can’t hold my brother overnight,” explained Doyoung, almost banging his fist down on the reception desk in exasperation. He could see Jaemin sitting in an office, answering questions with monosyllabic answers whilst keeping a slight eye on Doyoung from a distance. “He did not do anything wrong. He’s a sixteen year old kid. I just sent him out to get snacks from a convenience store, okay?”
“Why would you send a sixteen year old out that late at night anyway?” countered the receptionist; Doyoung did not like her, or her fake, plastic smile. “I can’t hand over Jaemin until you can prove you are his legal guardian and when Jaemin has finished being questioned.”
“What are you doing holding him here when it’s three in the morning?” complained Doyoung in a counter attack. “The poor kid has school in the morning, he’s never going to get there if you keep talking to him about something he didn’t do.”
“Are you his legal guardian?”
“No, I told you this. I’m his older brother. I’ve overage, and I’m in charge of him. What else do you need?”
“You’re not his legal guardian. If he is accused, then only a legal guardian can collect him and he will be unable to leave his house until the court hearing. Where is his mother?”
Doyoung sighed. He felt as if he had explained the story here more times than he had rehearsed it beforehand. “His mother is working the night shift at a factory nearby,” he answered, trying not to roll his eyes. “If you think that sounds like a shitty job then it is, and they will probably fire her if she has to leave early to come collect a son who is absolutely innocent. We haven’t seen our father in years, he can’t come either. I am the only one who is able to collect Jaemin and I just want to take him home.”
“If he is found to be a viable suspect through questioning, it has to be his mother…”
“And what if he’s innocent?”
Doyoung almost smiled at the defeated look on the receptionist’s face when he interrupted her. “You can’t keep him here if he’s innocent,” he continued, trying not to look as triumphant as he was feeling. “Check the security cameras, anything. Jaemin wouldn’t hurt a fly. Anyway, he doesn’t even have a weapon on him. How is a kid his size going to break into a bank and shoot a fully trained guard if he doesn’t even have a gun?”
The receptionist bit her lip. “The security footage was reviewed,” she explained, after a moment of hesitation. “The suspects were wearing masks, but none fitted Jaemin’s description and I doubt he will be found guilty after the questioning. We just have to meet formalities. Jaemin will probably be done in a few minutes and then you can take him home.”
On the walk from the police station to the safe house, Jaemin seemed more unsettled than when he had been interviewed by police. “Is Sooman going to kill me?” he asked softly, barely audible of the lullaby of Seoul city. “I mean, I got arrested and I had to give away my real name and…”
“Fuck no,” interrupted Doyoung in the most reassuring tone he could manage. “You’re the only one who actually did what you were told tonight. It’s not your fault that no one told you the heist was a failure, you just turned up like Ten had said you needed to and you ended up thrown into the mess everyone else had left behind. You didn’t tell them anything, did you?”
“No! I wouldn’t do that.”
“See, you actually did well. Meanwhile Ten got himself seen, the heist team didn’t actually take anything and Yuta is apparently bleeding to death on an abandoned shop floor somewhere. Somehow, you getting arrested is the least of our problems.”
Jaemin bit his lip. “Sooman is going to be pissed, isn’t he?”
“That’s an understatement.”
Kun spotted Yuta as soon as he managed to find his way into the shop, the Japanese boy propped up against an empty shelf with blood pooling around him. It seeped through Kun’s jeans as he knelt down to get a closer look. “How the fuck did you get shot?” he murmured, having to peel Yuta’s jacket and t-shirt away from the wound in his stomach.
“I don’t fucking know,” murmured Yuta, his voice weak. He winced every time Kun moved him. “It’s not like I went out planning to be shot.”
The wound was deeper than Kun had hoped, and the blood loss was growing significant. He did not have enough time to do a blood transfusion; hopefully, that would not be an issue. “It missed all your vital organs,” he explained, shrugging his bag from his back and rooting through it to find a knife and a cigarette lighter. He held the blade in the flame, sterilising every inch in the heat. By now, Kun was used to working with the very basic of resources. “You’re probably not going to die.”
“I don’t like the fact you used the word ‘probably’.”
“There’s always blood poisoning,” shrugged Kun, positioning the knife against the wound. “This is going to hurt like shit, okay? Try not to move.”
Placing a hand across Yuta’s mouth to muffle his screams, Kun dug the blade into the gunshot wound in Yuta’s side and tried to find the remnants of the bullet as fast as he could. Yuta’s shouts of pain were heart breaking, his complexion flooding white. Kun hated this part of the job, but if it meant that Yuta lived even for a few short minutes more, then it was worth it.
He managed to cut the bullet out, taking a bandage and ripping open the packet before beginning to wrap it around Yuta’s stomach. The Japanese boy panted heavily, colour refusing to return to his cheeks. “I fucking hate you sometimes, Kun,” he murmured, voice hoarse from screaming.
“I’ll let you die next time,” retorted Kun, keeping calm as he continued tightening the bandage as fast as he could.
“I’m still probably going to die, right?”
“Blood poisoning.”
“I wonder which will get me first, blood poisoning or Sooman?”
Yuta laughed at himself, and Kun could not help but raise an eyebrow. “What’s this?” he asked. “Gallows humour already? Come on Yuta, you’re stronger than one small gunshot wound. You’ll probably be stabbing people in the neck again before the week is out. Jaehyun is waiting outside. We really need to get you into the car and back to the safe house before anyone clocks that it’s the same car from the bank and…”
Kun was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. He sighed, taking Yuta’s hand and instructing him to keep pressure on the wound over the bandage before taking the phone from his jacket pocket and holding it to his ear. Taeyong spoke as soon as he answered.
“Is Yuta going to live?”
Kun bit his lip. “How specific do you need me to be?”
“Just answer the question. Is Yuta going to live, and can you get him back to the safe house?”
“Yes, if you give me time.”
“Sooman says if he’s going to die, leave him there. If not, bring him back now.”
Kun felt his heartbeat grow irregular at the sound of the familiar name. “Sooman?” he mumbled, hearing Yuta’s breath catch in his throat as he overheard. “He’s there with you? Now?”
“Yes. He says get here quick, with or without Yuta depending on his injury.”
“We’re fucked, aren’t we?”