Chapter Text
The sun was casting a rediculous warmth in the already hot and humid concrete jungle of Singapore.
Amidst the hustling and bustling of the central business district area, a dormant man was watching all the busy passersby on the famous marble benches of Raffles City with an ice cream cone in his hand.
"Pat, are you literally eating ice cream right now?" said a hushed tone in his ear.
"Are you kidding me, Korn? It's hotter here than in Bangkok. Let me live a little, it's getting a little boring," said Pat, licking a stripe of melted ice cream that had ran down his hand.
He could feel Korn shaking his head at him from the receiver.
"Nothing is happening. Why isn't anything happening?"
"Chill," said Pat nonchalantly, enjoying the breeze that somewhat cooled him a little.
"Did you not read the file? The target has finally appeared and he's here. He's been missing for almost ten years. Now is the time for the organization to finally capture him. It's now or never."
Pat chuckled.
"Look at you quoting Troy Bolton. Someone has been enjoying High School Musical on Disney Plus."
"Ha ha! Wait, I'm getting a suspiciois read in a few rooms in the restaurant," said Korn in haste.
"Pat can you go..."
Dead.
Pat sighed at the sudden loss of signal on his receiver.
Something is not right.
His intuition is buzzing. They are from the highest security organization in Thailand, and Pat has a team of competent, highly skilled, professional people who will ensure everything is working its best before a mission. And in this field, Pat has been through enough missions throughout his career to know absolutely nothing in this world is a coincidence. And rule number one of being a field agent, you never loose a signal. Ever!
His hair was on end.
On the top right-hand corner of the building, right through the window, he glimpsed a female staff running away from something. Pat knew his timings and his queues. He quickly gulped his ice cream at one go and made his way inside the building.
Pat felt the guns and bullets that pressed to his skin. They felt hot no matter what. If the situation goes to shit, he may need to use weapons.
Well, thats a possible political security disaster.
Trained agents like him do everything discreetly.
Everything looked normal when Pat entered the restaurant, people were still eating and chitchatting about their mundane lives, to the untrained eye, everything looked okay, but being an experienced spy, Pat knew when something had gone horridly wrong. He can feel it in his bones.
"Hello sir, welcome to the Diamond Bar. How may I assist you?" said the maître d.
Pat showed off a friendly smile, switching from his native Thai to a more Hong Kong-American-sounding tourist.
"I'd like to go to the bar. It's super hot outside," said Pat, showing off his sweat-stained t-shirt. "Something to cool down."
"Understand, sir. Right away."
Pat internally snorted.
He could tell the maître d was hiding something, he could tell right off the bat. The sweaty forehead, the unconfident, unfocused tone in his voice. The way his eyes were buzzing from the adrenaline of what he just witnessed. Pat can infer that the poor guy has definitely seen something that he shouldn't have, or knew something that is meant to be kept hidden.
"Here is your seat, sir. Do enjoy the drinks."
"Thank you."
The bar's location was fantastic. Really tasteful. One really has to appreciate the mirror of a bar stand, it makes your job a hundred times more easier, you can see an entire room from the comforts of your seat.
"Tiger beer, please," said Pan to the bartender.
The barman nodded and quickly slid in front of Pat a tall pint of frothy yellow liquid. Pat wondered about the possible hankering nag he would get if the superiors knew that he drank alcohol during an operation.
"The beer sucks here. And super expensive too."
Pat turned to the voice that appeared beside him.
Gorgeous.
Stunning.
Breathtaking.
The man was an angel in human form. Neat dark hair that fell to his forehead, fair skin without a hint of blemish, an incredibly handsome face, and a relaxed style that made Pat feel tingly all over.
Poor Pat has to mentally pinch himself to not make a fool. Hell, he has never felt anything as powerful as when he first laid eyes on the beauty beside him.
"And what beer would you recommend?"
The man smiled.
"Chang Beer. I'm biased because I'm Thai."
Pat felt like god really was on his side that day.
"Can't say I disagree. I am Thai myself."
The man tilted his head charmingly at Pat, making him even weaker in his knees.
"Here we are, two Thais in Singapore," said the stranger in perfect Thai.
"Yeah. And we're drinking beer in the afternoon. Very Thai."
Pat cannot help himself but laugh at the predicament he's in. What are the odds that he meets another Thai who is distracting him from another Thai that he was supposed to be watching?
"How about we leave this place, I know a cheaper and better place we can go to," said the guy, standing up from his seat.
"Give me a second, I need to taste this first. My friends say it's different in Singapore," said Pat.
"Be my guess. Enjoy your first Tiger Beer in Singapore."
Pat took a big gulp of the drink, finishing the whole pint in one sitting.
"Hmm, you're right. It's not as good as Chang."
"See. Come on, I know a place with good beer."
Pat was enthralled. The man took his hand and sort of pulled him from the seat to the exit. Pat's mind was a complete goo, all these new emotions suddenly appearing out of thin air. He was easily on Nirvana.
"By the way, I'm Pran."
"Pat."
As they walked out to the public and went further away from the building, Pat could suddenly hear Korn's voice in his receiver again. Korn was in a hysterical frenzy. If the receiver wasn't planted well in his ear, he was sure that people around him would hear the yells coming from him.
"Pat!"
"Pat, Pat, can you hear me!"
"Get out now!"
"Pat, get the fuck out of the building now! The target is dead."