Eve of the Storm (5)
Um Jae-deok's gaze turned toward the homepage of a media outlet called New Media. He refreshed his phone screen over and over, but the promised article still hadn't appeared. When he tried calling the reporter, all he got was a "not reachable" message on repeat.
He had chosen this fledgling tabloid, not a major outlet. With bait this juicy, he figured a hungry upstart desperate for a scoop would bite without hesitation. All it needed to do was surface. Once the news hit, majors and online media alike would swarm, public opinion would shift, and Yoon Kyung-yeong's position would crumble.
That was the will of Yoon Chan, father of the man he'd served.
But he hadn't anticipated that even this small fry would be under his influence.
With a low groan, Um Jae-deok hurled his phone aside. Frustrated, he moved to open the motel window but shook his head and stopped. He missed his wife and daughter, whom he'd sent fleeing to Thailand. His eyes grew misty as he stared at his daughter's photo.
Then.
His phone rang. Unknown number.
Um Jae-deok's pupils trembled as a whirlwind of thoughts raced through his mind.
"Hello?"
– Hello. Is this Director Um Jae-deok?
"…Who is this?"
– This is Prosecutor Jeong Jae-hoon from the Seoul Central District Prosecutors' Office Special Division.
Um Jae-deok's eyes widened.
* * *
"Alright, tell me. How much do you know about Um Jae-deok?"
"Yoon Chan's right-hand man. Started working under him right after college. Actually, their bond goes back further. Yoon Chan, now rotting in prison, sponsored the orphan Um Jae-deok and put him through university."
Jeong Jae-hoon, now fully trusting me and lounging comfortably in his chair, nodded.
"Right. After Yoon Kyung-yeong stabbed his own father in the back, the guy's been MIA. One of the few who knows his dirty secrets. But we have no way to find him."
"I have his contact info."
"Well, damn! Police intel outshines the prosecutors'? But how?"
Pleasure outweighed any annoyance; Jeong Jae-hoon sprang from his chair like a coiled spring.
I had Park Jin-tae, the genius hacker and president of a Yongsan computer shop. As long as someone was alive and using a device, there was no one in Korea he couldn't track.
"It'd be better if you made contact with him, hyungnim. Meet Um Jae-deok and get the dirt on Yoon Kyung-yeong's corruption."
"…Wait, we really just met today, right?"
"……?"
He was saying something random. His gaze deepened as he looked at me.
"This is actually a dangerous gamble. It could be a trap Yoon Kyung-yeong set to take me out for good. Logically, chasing him is the kind of insane move a nobody prosecutor like me makes dreaming of a big break. Not something a golden boy with a bright future like you, Cheol-gu, should touch."
His mouth, firing off words without hesitation, curved into a slow grin.
"And yet, I strangely want to trust you. Feels like we've been shooting the shit over drinks for years."
Of course. We've emptied how many soju bottles together, hyungnim?
"Priority one: secure evidence through Um Jae-deok. We can catch up after."
I chuckled and stood.
* * *
'Director Um, do you know a Prosecutor Jeong Jae-hoon?'
'No idea. First time hearing the name.'
'There's some regular prosecutor in Special Division digging into me. Making my life hell lately.'
Despite his words, Yoon Kyung-yeong's eyes crinkled in amusement. He didn't see it as a threat—just a toy to spice up his boring days.
He'd worn the same expression right after sending Um Jae-deok's boss and his own father, Yoon Chan, to prison.
Um Jae-deok's hand trembled on the phone.
"What brings Prosecutor Jeong Jae-hoon to me…?"
– No time to waste, so straight to the point. I'm after former Yoon Kyung-yeong, and I know you want Yoon Chan out of prison. Let's team up. I'll come to you in Gangwon-do.
Blunt to the point of rudeness, though he'd heard the guy was straightforward. Um Jae-deok hesitated, then nodded.
With the media play through the reporter a bust, he had no other options.
"Yes. Understood."
After setting the time and place, his face—self-justifying it as the best choice—drained to ashen gray.
If prosecutors had his number and location, Yoon Kyung-yeong almost certainly knew too.
No—he knew already.
His hazy eyes sharpened. Um Jae-deok pulled a memory card from deep in his bag and bit his lip silently.
* * *
Incheon International Airport. Facilities and service were beyond reproach, befitting a global top-five hub.
Except for the assistant right beside him.
Yoon Kyung-yeong glanced indifferently at the early-thirties man barely breathing next to him. He'd dumped Jeong Sun-gyo's duties on this stand-in Ha assistant in a pinch, but it wasn't cutting it. He missed Jeong Sun-gyo, probably at the bottom of the East Sea in a drum by now.
Shaking his head, Yoon Kyung-yeong kept checking the gate.
[Asiana Airlines Flight 858 has just arrived.]
The lounge announcement echoed, and passengers streamed in.
Yoon Kyung-yeong's mask-like expression cracked into a noticeable smile.
"Long time no see. I hope you've been well? Didn't expect you'd come out in person."
A man in his late thirties emerged from the crowd and bowed at ninety degrees.
"Ha! When I suddenly summon talent like you, a little courtesy is the least I can do."
"You're too kind."
"Anyway, let's move. Too many eyes here."
The man, dressed in a bespoke suit worthy of a Wall Street analyst, nodded quietly. But the muscles rippling beneath hinted at a seasoned soldier.
His overwhelming presence made Ha assistant swallow hard.
"I'll drive. Let me take you home."
"Fine. You're dismissed, Ha assistant."
The hand snatching the keys moved with natural ease. Ha assistant bowed, holding his breath.
"I've heard Yi-su is the knife the assemblyman trusts. For someone like that to suddenly turn on Director Jeong… the odds?"
"Zero."
"Then someone intervened. A third party even the assemblyman doesn't know about…"
Ji Seong-woong, late thirties, had rushed back from the States at Yoon Kyung-yeong's call. No time for his own digging, but he grasped the board instantly.
"Spot on. That's why I called you back so urgently. Company okay?"
"The paper company managing your assets has plenty of replacements if not me. No worries. It's an honor to serve by your side."
In a feast, those closest get the scraps. Ji Seong-woong's brow twitched as he gripped the wheel; Yoon Kyung-yeong didn't miss it.
Youth's strength and weakness. Ambitions too grand. Jeong Sun-gyo was like that once.
"Dropping the Seoul mayor run, then?"
Ji Seong-woong asked Yoon Kyung-yeong, who smirked out the window.
"Why do you think that?"
"You could win now, no question. But without Director Jeong fine-tuning the details, no overwhelming victory without losses. If Seoul mayor was the endgame, maybe. But for the real prize? This is just practice—you won't waste energy here."
"Good read. Package it nicely and get a media statement out ASAP."
"Yes, sir. No worries. But I heard a loach is stirring things up. Um Jae-deok, right?"
"Why use an ox-cleaver on a chicken? Ignore the small fry and focus on the big picture."
* * *
Prosecutor Jeong Jae-hoon downed water nonstop at a Gangwon-do coffee shop. The thought of nailing Yoon Kyung-yeong had him humming all three-plus hours from Seoul.
But.
An hour past the meet time, no Um Jae-deok. Calls went unanswered.
Did I underestimate this?
Yoon Kyung-yeong was capable of anything.
No way!
Jeong Jae-hoon swallowed dryly and frantically searched the internet on his phone. Um Jae-deok had no ties to Gangwon-do. On the run a month, he'd need a place to crash. Check a few inns, and he'd pop up. A middle-aged guy solo long-term at a minbak? Word spreads. Hotels demand ID—bad for hiding. Motels were it.
When picking the spot, Um Jae-deok chose this shop without hesitation. He'd passed it.
Jungseon Motel. Jeong Jae-hoon bolted to his car, jaw trembling with dread. He gunned it without buckling up.
Ding-a-ling!
"Welcome."
"He's here, right?!"
The sleepy owner rubbed her eyes. Jeong Jae-hoon shoved his phone photo in her face.
Her eyes widened, flicking between photo and him.
"…Who? Police?"
"Prosecutors! What room?!"
She handed over the 204 key, cowed by his snarling fury and badge.
He bounded up stairs, breathless. This was the key to Yoon Kyung-yeong's secrets. Couldn't lose it.
Bang bang!
"Um Jae-deok! It's Jeong Jae-hoon. You in there?"
Rustling inside. Door stayed shut.
Key in, twist—whoosh!
A shadow shoved him aside amid wind. Something blue flashed at his head.
Eyes squeezed shut, he toppled on his ass.
A sharp blade grazed his forehead, shearing hairs.
The shadow fled down the hall—mouse-gray suit, incongruous navy shoes.
Inside: a middle-aged man clutching his throat, gurgling blood.
Um Jae-deok.
Screech!
The owner, who'd snuck up, screamed.
"Call 119! Hurry! Um Jae-deok, you okay?!"
He thrashed, stemming the gush, but no use. Light faded from his eyes. His hand slumped to the floor.
Jeong Jae-hoon's vision blurred.
* * *
"…In the end, I couldn't even meet him, let alone save him."
– You did everything you could, hyungnim.
My consolation rang hollow. His hands shook on the wheel.
He'd seen ugly in Special Division, but never death right in front of him.
If he hadn't met me, could he have lived?
If-onlys swirled and vanished. Um Jae-deok was gone.
The rundown rural motel had fake CCTV. Killer slipped in while the owner dozed, vanished like smoke.
Autopsy pending, but on-site cops said torture marks pre-death.
Rage and terror at Yoon Kyung-yeong crept up together.
Phone buzzed ignored. Glancing: Investigator Park.
"Hello."
– Prosecutor Jeong, where are you? No contact all day.
"Complications. What's up?"
– Registered mail for you. Sender 'Um Jae-deok.' Ring a bell?
"What?!"
He slammed the brakes. Horns blared behind.
"Who?!"