Target (4)
Chapter 54. Target (4)
While hastily preparing at the Noryangjin house, I received a message from Hamo.
I stepped out with the burner phone Hamo had secured for me last time. It was disposable, meant to be used once and discarded. We'd agreed to save it strictly for operations or emergencies, but I never expected to need it like this. Skylight didn't support videos or calls anyway.
The video showed a middle-aged man—probably in his late thirties—along with four younger guys, all tied up. The bastards. Two of the young ones were missing their hands.
My heart raced as the questions poured out like machine-gun fire.
I studied the video and audio carefully. Training in Cancun had taught me to pick up on background details. The sound of a compressor suggested a factory nearby. The cement floor and accumulated dust indicated an abandoned plant rather than an active one—active factories don't let dust build up like that. The difference between an uncleaned space and an empty one was obvious.
Thank you. Why? Because I found it. K5. I wasn't sure what they were trying to show off, but while panning the camera, the lens caught a gap in the door revealing a sign outside. I searched the internet. Damn—there was a vehicle with the same name. Switching the search to locations narrowed it down. Not Jinju. Definitely not Jeju. This was it: Bucheon, Wonmi-gu.
I contacted Eun-seong and told him to meet me at Bucheon Station. I headed to Noryangjin Station and took the subway. I wanted a taxi, but traffic at this hour would only make the trip worse. Dressed like a civil-service exam student cramming in Noryangjin, I boarded Line 1. My backpack held a pistol and 150 rounds. Thirty minutes later I got off at Bucheon Station, then caught a village bus into the industrial district.
I transformed into a factory worker—someone who'd come for a part-time job. Thanks to navigation apps, real-time GPS guided me straight to the K5 factory. A few blocks away, I scanned the area. Within a one-kilometer radius, my target had to be here. I skipped the larger buildings; these guys wouldn't operate out of anything flashy.
Figures.
After circling the K5 area for about thirty minutes, I narrowed it down to six possible locations. There were too many small factories. One even had its door open; inside sat a single general-purpose lathe with an old man operating it. The layout matched the video almost exactly. This industrial complex must have been mass-producing identical buildings.
Real bastards.
Like hell.
I decided to try drawing them outside.
I made another quick circuit, checking for anyone holding a phone outdoors. It was exhausting work.
A message arrived from Eun-seong. I sent him the K5 address and told him to contact me ten minutes before arrival. If he didn't hear back, he was to wait at that location.
"Excuse me."
"Who is it?"
"Hello?"
The old man I'd seen earlier through the open door adjusting his glasses greeted me.
"What brings you here?"
"I heard there's a factory hiring around here, but I can't find it."
"What's the company name? A lot of places have gone under lately."
"I don't know the name, but I heard it closed about six months ago. They were dealing with Chinese partners, I think."
"Ah… that must be it. Seongwoo Tech. About two hundred meters that way, then around the corner."
"Thank you so much. You'll be blessed for this."
I'd taken the risk of asking around. What choice did I have when lives were on the line?
Those fucking bastards. I'll kill every last one of them.
"谁呀?"
Found it. I didn't know how many were inside, so I waited for the security team.
I told them to meet at a point five hundred meters from the target. These guys really lacked basics. It was a nine-seater Carnival, but the problem was the Brotherhood Welfare Center sticker plastered on the side door. How could they show up with that? We still had a long way to go. When I asked, they said they hadn't had a car and grabbed whatever was available in the rush. I had nothing to say. My own oversight.
I sent two men away—one to return the Brotherhood Welfare Center vehicle, the other to rent an identical car and come back. The three of us would go in. When I'd knocked earlier, there had been no CCTV. Even if it was hidden, they wouldn't have answered so casually if they'd seen us on camera. I gave instructions to one of the new security team members whose face the targets hadn't seen: claim it was a delivery, and if someone came out, wave from a distance like you were joking around.
"谁呀?"
"Hey, you Chinese bastard! Go back to your own country!"
That was direct. They say the first thing you learn in a new language is how to swear. Someone came out, looking annoyed. Thud! I ambushed him from behind, thinking of everything our family had suffered.
"Eun-seong, this is live. You can shoot if you need to, right?"
"Yes."
He'd be on his own, but I asked for backup anyway. Eun-seong had nothing to do—the enemies were completely exposed. Two pistol shots each and it was over. I didn't kill them; I had too many questions. One round to each thigh, then knocked them out.
I went to the employee who looked the least battered and told him to call 119. When the police arrived, he was to turn himself in. He and the others had been selling product when they were suddenly kidnapped and beaten. He'd given up the contact info of the person who'd supplied him. That was all he needed to say; the police wouldn't dig further, and with luck he'd just get a warning. The deputies could take the fall. After that, he was to claim he knew nothing. I finished by thanking him for his hard work and promising a generous severance package. I conveyed the same message to the section chief with a look.
The three deputies couldn't speak—they'd passed out with three arms each. Those bastards.
Thirty minutes later, the guy who'd rented the car called. I told Eun-seong to load the three of them up and head to Bongdam to keep them talking. Meanwhile, I worked on destroying as much evidence as possible so the investigation would stop at the section-chief level. Then I watched the ambulance and police cars arrive before withdrawing.