Target One
"You've got a thermal camera, right?"
At Kim Su-hyeok's words, Lee Gyu-jin rummaged through the ops bag and pulled one out.
"Here. At a building of this grade the exterior walls are so thick you can't pick up body heat anyway, right?"
A soft whir rose as Kim Su-hyeok powered on the thermal camera and handed the manual over to Lee Gyu-jin.
"Look at 23-E. Alpha-Beta wrote this for exactly this kind of situation. The man really has more experience than you could ever imagine."
Then Kim Su-hyeok pressed his eye to the thermal camera and trained it on the seventh floor of Skullcap Corporation, where Hwang-geum was supposed to be.
In winter, to confirm whether a target is actually present inside a building with thick exterior walls, use a thermal camera to check the boiler pipe lines.
The boiler pipeline on the seventh floor registered a deep, cold blue.
The contrast was absolute against every other floor, all of them lit up red from running heat.
On a day this frigid — temperatures plunging below freezing — the complete absence of even residual warmth meant the boiler had not been run at all. Which meant no one was inside.
And not for a day or two. At least two full days, minimum.
"He's gone. Baeksol took care of Hwang-geum. Whether they incinerated him or sank him off the coast of Incheon, who knows."
Kim Su-hyeok handed the thermal camera to Lee Gyu-jin and lifted his smartphone.
Han Hae-un and the operatives began moving toward the fifth floor of the Mokhwa Building.
Hae-un entered through the back door of a shuttered Chinese restaurant and made his way into the kitchen. He opened a commercial refrigerator with the power unplugged; inside was a new door leading to a secret passage.
A soft electronic chime sounded as he tapped his security card against the reader, and the door unlocked.
Upstairs, someone would already be watching the surveillance feed of Han Hae-un disguised as Terrence Williams. Even if an outsider somehow obtained an access pass, a single button press from inside would seal both doors and trap them with nowhere to go.
The same security system was installed for anyone who entered through the Mokhwa Building's main entrance and tried to reach the fifth floor.
When Hae-un rode the elevator of the hidden space up to the fifth floor, the operatives were waiting to receive him.
"You've arrived, sir."
"You've all been working hard in this cold. What's the report?"
No matter how secure the messenger, some matters were never left online. Anything that demanded absolute discretion was either written up on paper or delivered face-to-face, verbally.
A face-to-face report meant the matter was both significant and highly classified.
Kim Su-hyeok nodded and spoke.
"It appears Baeksol eliminated Hwang-geum. Even if he isn't dead, it's certain Baeksol extracted him from that officetel. In the process, we secured vehicle information on what we believe to be Baeksol's hunting dogs, and we're tracking them now."
"Basis?"
"23-E."
"Good work."
Having heard Kim Su-hyeok's report, Hae-un nodded and walked to the safe set against one wall of the office.
A soft electronic sequence of beeps sounded as he entered the combination and opened it. From among the densely organized files inside, he drew out a single yellow envelope.
On the face of the envelope were the words Target 1.
Target One was the first person Baeksol had made a scapegoat after Yeon-woo and Han Hae-un had joined forces.
In other words: An Jun-ho.
Time to finally close the An Jun-ho case.
If Baeksol had started cutting its losses around Hwang-geum, then mid-tier actor Jeong Tae-seon — the man who had driven An Jun-ho into ruin — had already outlived his usefulness. It was time to dispose of him.
I'll need to give Team Leader a face-to-face or written report on this one myself. The variety shoot was in Gapyeong, wasn't it?
Hae-un looked at the operatives.
"You've all done well. I've got something to handle, so I'll move first. Rest easy until further orders."
"Understood."
Meanwhile, at that same hour, a song-guessing game was in full swing at the pension.
"Oppa! You really don't know this song? For real?!"
Every other actor had already answered correctly and stepped out, leaving only Jeong Cheol-min and Yeon-woo locked in a lonely, losing battle.
"Neither of you knows it? You can pass."
"Pass."
"I'll pass too."
They were only playing hit songs, and yet master and disciple wore the exact same blank, head-tilting expression.
We're finished. I genuinely don't know a single one of these.
Yeon-woo's young — how does a kid his age not know any of this? I just want this to be over.
Then a writer approached PD Joo Hyun-seok and showed him a note.
"What about this song? It has a connection to both of them, at least…"
"Oh, that's good. Let's go with this."
The next track began playing from the laptop.
Yeon-woo shot to his feet.
Hmm? This is…
He glanced behind him and found Han Byeol and Seo Ji-eun nodding so hard their heads might come off. Jeong Cheol-min, sitting beside him, still looked completely lost.
It's variety. A little provocation here will make the edit more fun.
Yeon-woo planted his hands on his hips, face full of smug triumph, and looked straight at Jeong Cheol-min.
"Teacher. You really don't know this classic?"
"I don't. How am I supposed to know today's songs?"
Behind them, Han Byeol was laughing so hard she rolled across the floor.
Then Yeon-woo quietly raised his hand.
"Answer. Team Han Byeol Beyond the River."
"Yes! Yeon-woo. What's the answer?"
"It's our Prince Akhenaten's latest title track — Axis's Universe!"
Jeong Cheol-min rocketed out of his seat.
"Ugh! Dong-ha!"
"Axis's Universe. Correct!"
Jeong Cheol-min immediately rushed the camera and launched into a stream of excuses.
"No, Dong-ha — I bought the album before I even got the gift, you know? You know that, right? Huh?"
Watching Jeong Cheol-min clutch the ENG camera and deliver a video letter of pure self-defense to Dong-ha, the other actors collapsed laughing all over again.
And watching the whole spectacle, PD Joo Hyun-seok was crowing with delight on the inside.
Ohhh. That's a shot. Perfect.
With a thoroughly satisfied face, PD Joo called out:
"Alright, let's take a break!"
During the brief pause in filming, Yeon-woo checked his smartphone.
23-E was a protocol Yeon-woo had written himself.
So Hwang-geum has left his residence. And if it's related to Target One…
An Jun-ho was in the military — Baeksol couldn't have done anything to him there — so this was almost certainly good news.
Good news about An Jun-ho means the timing has come to dispose of Jeong Tae-seon. Which means Hwang-geum is dead.
Just then, the voices of Han Byeol and Jeong Su-yeon drifted over from the window, where they were pressed against the glass staring outside.
"Wow, it's dumping snow!"
"Unnie. Can we go outside and make a snowman?"
"No. You'll catch a cold. Byeol, you didn't even bring gloves."
Han Byeol beamed.
"I did! I brought three pairs just in case it snowed!"
"…Really? Then maybe just a little one right out front?"
"Yes!"
Yeon-woo looked outside. Snowflakes were pouring down as if the sky itself had opened.
So they're going to completely clear An Jun-ho's name.
The staff, however, were in full panic.
"Ugh, garbage falling from the sky."
"If this keeps piling up, is the bus even getting out tomorrow? Looking at this, I don't think we're leaving."
That only thrilled Han Byeol more.
"No way! Unnie, does that mean we get to hang out here another day?"
"You do remember we came here to work, not play, right?"
"But it really feels like a school trip."
Watching the giddy Han Byeol, Jeong Su-yeon let out a quiet laugh.
Taking in the scene, Yeon-woo lifted his phone and typed.
A reply from Han Hae-un came almost immediately.
Oh? That works. And if he's sending a drone anyway, I should request one more thing.
Yeon-woo typed out the additional items he needed and sent them. Hae-un's acknowledgment came back at once.
Confirming the reply with a nod, Yeon-woo stepped outside and joined Han Byeol and Jeong Su-yeon, who were already building a snowman.
The camera director, catching the scent of usable footage, spun his camera around at once and started rolling.
"Oppa! Put the head on the body!"
"No. If it's this small, it'll break when we lift it. Pack both the body and the head tighter and make them bigger."
Back when he'd been surveilling a secret weapons cache belonging to Russian oligarchs on Sakhalin, the only thing nearby had been snow — so whenever he got bored, he'd built snowmen by the dozen and lined them up in formation.
With practiced hands, Yeon-woo began rolling snow into large, perfectly round spheres that looked like they'd stepped out of a movie. The key was to keep tapping the snowball with your palms while rolling it outward in a spiral.
"Wow! It's so big and round!"
The noise outside drew Son Jin-uk and the staff out as well.
"What, making a snowman? That's huge."
Once the head and body were joined, it would stand nearly as tall as Yeon-woo himself.
"Jin-uk hyung. Help me lift the head."
"Okay."
As Son Jin-uk came over, Jeong Su-yeon pulled off her gloves and held them out to him.
"Whoa, this is gonna be heavy."
With a shared heave of effort, Yeon-woo and Son Jin-uk hoisted the head together and set it on the body.
"It's massive!"
"Han Byeol and Su-yeon, decorate the face prettily."
"Carrot! We need a carrot. Writer unnie!"
Han Byeol bustled about, planting a carrot for a nose and making eyes out of chocolate cookies. Stick arms and a muffler finished the look — a snowman so charming it could have walked out of an animated film.
PD Joo's eyes lit up the moment he saw it.
"Actors, let's take a group photo with the snowman. Perfect for a thumbnail."
The cast clustered together beside the towering snowman.
"Alright — taking the Saebyeol Family thumbnail. One, two, three."
A few more games followed, and the day darkened into night.
Back at the lodging, the production team sat in a worried meeting over what to do tomorrow.
The snow had given them beautiful shots, but the aftermath was the problem.
"The road surface is definitely going to freeze solid overnight, and that hill right out front is the real issue. The bus is going to slide."
"Even if we call a snowplow, they're not coming all the way out here."
"We'll just have to pray it melts overnight. Or we round up the staff, shovel the way down by hand, scatter dirt if we can find any — do whatever we can. Sigh."
The staff exhaled dark, heavy sighs.
Meanwhile, upstairs on the second floor of the lodging, Yeon-woo's smartphone buzzed.
While the staff and actors rested, Yeon-woo slipped quietly outside.
He entered the coordinates into his phone's map, confirmed Hae-un's position, and set off in that direction, putting distance between himself and the lodging.
After walking about ten minutes into a forest of bare trees with no streetlights, Yeon-woo raised his phone and switched on the flashlight, aiming it at the sky.
A low, bee-swarm drone of rotors answered, and a large drone approached through the dark, its green and red lights blinking on.
Yeon-woo lifted his phone and spoke to Hae-un.
"Drop it there."
"Yes, sir."
A soft thud. The pouch tethered to the drone fell to the ground.
Yeon-woo walked over and picked it up. Inside was something heavy, along with a report sealed in a waterproof pack.
"Package secured. Good work."
"Not at all. See you in Seoul tomorrow."
The bee-swarm sound rose again as the drone receded into the dark. Yeon-woo slipped the report into his inner pocket, then hoisted the heavy pouch onto his shoulder like Santa Claus and headed back to the lodging.
"Anyone watching would think it's a present. Wait — technically, is it a present? I'll say I found it in the shed out back."
Inside the pouch were snow chains for the tires of a large vehicle.