To Korea (4)
"Unni!!!!"
Terminal 2, third floor general area near the J check-in counter at Incheon Airport's information desk.
Jimin was sprinting over in her black mourning clothes, her breath catching in her throat.
It was right in the middle of the funeral.
A call from an unknown number.
Jimin jumped in shock at the sound of Lily's sobs coming through the receiver.
Her father Kim Seongtae, the eldest brother, and her uncle couldn't leave their posts as chief mourners.
Fortunately, her uncle Choi Il-woo, who had come to pay respects, saw Jimin's face drain of color and came out with her.
"Hic... Jimin...!"
Lily had borrowed the information desk staff's phone to call Jimin.
She had been trembling in fear for over an hour amid this unfamiliar land and strangers.
But the moment she saw a familiar face—Jimin's—
All the terror she'd bottled up melted away like snow, replaced by a flood of relief.
"Waaah!"
Tears burst from Lily's eyes like a dam breaking.
They say crying is contagious.
Seeing her sister-in-law, who had been huddled in a corner of the strange airport, break down like a child the instant she spotted her—Jimin's heart shattered.
"Unni...!"
The two women clung to each other desperately.
Jimin started bawling right along with Lily.
"Huuuuhwaaaah!"
A woman in black mourning garb and a strikingly pale foreign woman embracing and wailing in the middle of the airport.
Onlookers stopped in their tracks, staring curiously at the bizarre scene.
But to the two, the gazes of strangers meant nothing.
Only after a long cry did Jimin grab Lily's shoulders and ask,
"Unni, you okay? You're not hurt anywhere?"
"Yeah... I'm fine..."
"What about Oppa? Isn't he with you?"
At Jimin's question, fresh tears dropped from Lily's reddened eyes.
"Waaah... Ji-hoon... he got dragged away... right after entering the country..."
"What?"
"They... took only Ji-hoon... told me to leave... hic."
"Dragged away? What are you talking about?"
Jimin couldn't believe her ears.
She'd rushed over thinking some accident had happened from Lily's frantic voice begging her to come to Incheon Airport.
Arrested? Her brother taken away?
She was too stunned to close her mouth.
Lily clutched Jimin's clothes like a lifeline.
Jimin patted her trembling back and glanced at her uncle who had followed.
"Uncle!"
Choi Il-woo had already overheard the situation.
He nodded calmly.
He'd worried something like this might happen ever since hearing Ji-hoon was coming to Korea.
But he hadn't expected them to be so brazen about it.
"Don't worry."
Choi Il-woo reassured Lily and Jimin.
"Wait here just a bit. I'll go check it out."
"Okay...!"
He seated the two at the information desk chairs and stepped away.
He pulled out his phone—not a saved contact, but the direct line to Incheon Airport Immigration and Foreigners Office control room.
Twenty years as a lawyer.
He knew exactly who to call in a situation like this.
Ring ring—
The call connected before it even rang twice.
"Yes, Immigration Control Room."
Choi Il-woo loosened his tie slightly and spoke in a low, firm voice.
"Thank you for your hard work. This is attorney Choi Il-woo from Jeongron Law Firm."
"......Yes? What can we do for you?"
"I'm calling after hearing that U.S. citizen Kim Ji-hoon, who just returned to the country, was arrested and detained during immigration screening."
"Ah, yes. One moment."
"Where is the suspect now? Airport interrogation room, or transferred to the local station?"
"......"
"And have you notified the U.S. Embassy? Please confirm that consular access rights were properly informed."
Choi Il-woo gripped the steering wheel tighter.
In the back seat, Lily and Jimin were clinging to each other, exhausted and asleep—Jimin gently patting her sister-in-law's reddened eyes.
He floored the accelerator.
The car slid to a stop in the funeral hall parking lot.
"Jimin."
"Yes, Uncle."
"Take good care of your unni and go in first. Explain everything nicely so the adults don't get too shocked."
Choi Il-woo said firmly, eyeing his niece in the rearview mirror.
"I'll bring your brother back, so don't worry."
"...Okay. You have to bring him."
Jimin helped Lily out of the car.
The moment the two women disappeared into the funeral hall, Choi Il-woo's expression turned icy cold.
"These fucking bastards."
He slammed the gear into reverse and spun the car around.
Destination: Incheon Yeongjong Police Station.
This was the true face of Choi Il-woo—ace attorney at Jeongron Law Firm, known as the ruthless one.
Incheon Yeongjong Police Station, Intelligent Crime Investigation Team.
Choi Il-woo kicked the door open.
Detectives glanced over, but he marched straight to the desk without a pause.
"Who’s in charge of Kim Ji-hoon?"
His voice was low, but it boomed through the entire office.
Park Detective, fiddling with a report, looked up irritably.
"That'd be me. Who the hell are you?"
Thwack.
Choi Il-woo slapped his business card onto the desk.
"His uncle and attorney. I demand to see him. Right now."
Park Detective skimmed the card.
[Jeongron Law Firm, Lead Attorney Choi Il-woo].
He smirked crookedly.
"Oh, the lawyer's here. But what can we do?"
Park Detective tapped his pen and continued.
"We're in the middle of interrogating the suspect. Bad timing."
"Even during investigation, the right to counsel must be guaranteed. It's a constitutional basic right."
Choi Il-woo gave the textbook response.
But Park Detective snorted.
He recited his prepared line.
"Attorney, you're the suspect's uncle, right?"
"What's that got to do with anything?"
"Everything. You're a special relation."
Park Detective leaned forward with a sleazy grin.
"We judge there's a risk of leaking investigation secrets or conspiring to destroy evidence if family acts as counsel."
"What did you say?"
Choi Il-woo's eyebrow twitched.
"You're treating a lawyer like a potential co-conspirator?"
"Hey, if it sounds that way, my bad. Anyway, we deem it would seriously hinder the investigation, so no visitation."
Park Detective waved him off.
"We'll let you see him after questioning. Wait outside. Grab a coffee."
This was blatant illegality.
Article 12, Paragraph 4 of the Constitution.
'Anyone arrested or detained shall have the right to the assistance of counsel immediately.'
It couldn't be restricted for investigation convenience or evidence tampering excuses.
But the police were now lording over the Constitution under the guise of 'discretion'.
Choi Il-woo swallowed his boiling rage.
"I'll formally object to the Audit Office. This is a clear violation of visitation and communication rights."
"Go ahead."
Park Detective was unfazed.
"But the auditor's clocked out. You'll have to wait till morning."
"Call them on duty."
"Man, you're picky. It's investigator discretion, okay? Follow the law, sure, follow the law."
Park Detective turned his back entirely.
Their intent was obvious.
Isolate Ji-hoon, pressure him psychologically, and squeeze out a confession or slip-up within 48 hours.
Keep the lawyer from coaching him.
Choi Il-woo clenched his fist.
Talking inside the station was pointless.
They were all in cahoots, decided to stonewall.
"Follow the law, huh..."
Choi Il-woo sneered coldly.
"Fine. Have it your way."
He turned on his heel without regret.
Once out and in his car, Choi Il-woo punched in the navigation.
Destination: Incheon District Court.
He checked his watch.
5:40 p.m.
Twenty minutes till closing.
He floored it.
If the police played tough with 'investigator discretion,' the lawyer could just run to court and demand cancellation.
Quasi-appeal.
A procedure to petition the court to revoke or amend an unfair investigative disposition.
Not commonly used due to time, but the surest fix for blatant constitutional violations like this.
Screech!
The car halted in the court parking lot.
Choi Il-woo grabbed his briefcase and bolted to the duty office.
Gasping for air, but no stopping.
Dare block a lawyer's visitation?
This wasn't just about saving his nephew.
It was a declaration of war on behalf of his pride as a legal professional—and against public power mocking the Korean Constitution.
As he filed the papers with the duty judge, Choi Il-woo's eyes flashed.
"Let's take this all the way."
Petition to revoke denial of visitation.
Leaving the court duty office, Choi Il-woo jumped back in the car without a breather.
Quasi-appeal filed.
But court ruling could take days, even at best.
Who knew what they'd do to Ji-hoon in holding till then.
The law is distant, the fist is close.
Bitter reality for a Korean lawyer, but undeniable.
So.
Bring a bigger fist than the police's.
On this tiny peninsula, the super top dog scarier than prosecutors or the Blue House.
Choi Il-woo updated the navigation.
[U.S. Embassy in Korea].
188 Sejong-daero, Jongno-gu, Seoul.
He hit the gas.
Rush hour on the riverside road was a parking lot, but he weaved lanes relentlessly.
Finally, the massive building loomed.
A sanctuary of extraterritoriality smack in Korea's heart.
Choi Il-woo dumped the car in a nearby lot and sprinted to the main gate.
"Halt! What's this about?"
The gate guard blocked him.
"Out of the way. Emergency business."
"Business hours are over. Come back tomorrow."
The guard was firm.
A regular complainant would've turned back.
But Choi Il-woo stood his ground.
He pulled a passport photocopy and business card from his suit pocket.
Then, shouting past the Korean guard to the U.S. marine behind bulletproof glass—in English.
"Emergency! I need to see the duty consul now!"
The guard tried to restrain him in panic, but Choi Il-woo's voice boomed louder.
"A U.S. citizen has been illegally detained!"
At "U.S. citizen," the stone-faced marine's eyebrow twitched.
Citizen protection.
The U.S. Embassy's raison d'être and top priority.
The guard hit the intercom.
Moments later, the heavy iron gate creaked open. A blue-eyed embassy staffer emerged, face stern.
"What is it, sir?"
The staffer spoke fluent Korean.
Choi Il-woo cut straight to it, handing over Ji-hoon's passport copy.
"My nephew Kim Ji-hoon was arrested at Incheon Airport moments ago and is detained at Incheon Yeongjong Police Station."
"Arrested? On what charges?"
"Even after being informed of counsel rights, police ignored it and denied visitation—so I don't know. No notification to the embassy either, right?"
"......!"
The staffer's eyes sharpened.
Vienna Convention violation.
A simple incident escalating to diplomatic crisis.
"They even refused me, his attorney. They're isolating him for coercive interrogation."
Choi Il-woo played his ace.
A regular citizen? They'd verify and move on.
But Ji-hoon was different.
Choi Il-woo pulled out his phone, showing a photo.
Oval Office, White House.
Ji-hoon shaking hands with President Barnes, Presidential Medal of Freedom around his neck.
"Do you know who this is?"
"......Huh?"
The staffer's jaw dropped.
He glanced between the photo, passport copy, and Choi Il-woo's face.
"Presidential Medal of Freedom..."
"Correct. Korean police have squirrelled away a hero recognized by the U.S. President."
Silence.
Brief, but heavy.
Color drained from the staffer's face.
No ordinary citizen.
Direct line to the White House.
"One moment... please wait."
The staffer was visibly rattled.
He barked into his radio and dashed inside.
"Code red! Get the consul general! Now!"
Choi Il-woo straightened his tie, staring at the sealed gate.
The night air was cold, but cold sweat trickled down his back.