Night Run (4)
“Can you move?”
“Of course. I’m fine.”
“Then let’s get out of here. This way.”
Ryan led the way and started down the corridor toward the far end.
Maybe because of the wound in his back, his stride was a little slower, but the hand holding the gun never wavered.
I slid the knife back into its sheath and followed behind him.
“What happened? Weren’t you supposed to be by the back entrance?”
At my question, he tapped the earpiece at his ear and answered, “You weren’t responding. I’ve been calling you for a while.”
I hadn’t heard a thing.
Come to think of it, after we entered the main house, there hadn’t been a single sound from the earpiece.
I’d assumed they just hadn’t contacted me, but now it looked like the line had been cut entirely.
“Elena got Bowman. He was in the annex. I came to fetch you.”
We caught Bowman.
At that, I felt so relieved I almost forgot the pain in my shoulder.
“By the way, are you okay after firing those shots earlier?”
At my question, Ryan shrugged. “It was an emergency. If anything comes of it, the guys in the office at headquarters can sort it out. That’s what they’re there for, right?”
He said it lightly, but his steps were quick.
Even with a suppressor on, that sharp crack would’ve carried plenty far.
Ryan looked like he knew that all too well.
We opened the side door at the back of the main house and stepped outside.
The damp air of dawn hit my face, and only then did I realize my clothes were soaked through with sweat.
We crossed the stone wall and made it to the roadside, where a vehicle sat with its headlights off across the street.
“Lee!”
Elena was leaning against the passenger side.
Black tactical gear was smeared with dirt, and the elbow had been torn open.
It looked like getting Bowman had not been easy for her, either.
“Where’s Bowman?”
At my question, Elena jerked her chin toward the trunk and said, “Classic, but you can’t beat it.”
Her tone was calm, with just a little humor tucked into it.
When she noticed my stare, she smiled and added, “Don’t worry. I wrapped him up with duct tape and made sure he can’t open the trunk from the inside. Movies and reality are different.”
Ryan snorted and opened the back door.
I got in on the other side. Elena slid behind the wheel, and the car pulled away.
I took off my balaclava and tossed it onto my lap.
The damp cloth brushed against the back of my hand. Sweat, blood—hard to tell which.
Outside, the view of the country road drifted by in darkness.
A narrow strip of pavement wound between rice fields and farmland. In the distance, frogs were croaking.
It’s over.
The whole operation had taken barely fifteen minutes, maybe twenty at most.
My shoulder and side had been cut up, but compared to Hong Kong, this was practically a vacation.
Having real support definitely changed the feel of things.
Not bad.
Then, in the rearview mirror, my eyes met Elena’s.
It only lasted a moment, but I could tell she wanted to say something and didn’t.
A second later, her gaze returned to the road.
I looked away too and turned my head.
My face, reflected faintly in the car window, floated in the dark.
***
We arrived at the safe house they’d prepared in advance.
It was a shabby detached house on the outskirts of Osaka.
Inside the living room, there was nothing but a folding table, a few chairs, and a duffel bag leaning against the wall.
I went straight into the bathroom and stood at the sink.
After turning on the tap, I washed the blood and sweat off my face, neck, and arms first.
The water swirling down the drain turned pale pink, then slowly faded.
“Hoo…”
I studied my upper body in the mirror.
The cut on my shoulder was narrow and not deep. It hadn’t gone down as far as the muscle.
The graze along my side was shallow, but the area was wide enough that blood had spread quite a bit.
There were also a fair number of small cuts on my forearm and the backs of my hands.
This should heal fast.
Fortunately, the bleeding had already stopped.
I took out the first-aid kit, soaked some cotton with disinfectant, and cleaned each wound one by one.
“Tss…”
Every time the disinfectant touched my skin, it burned hot.
I could handle the side wound myself, but the back of my shoulder was the real problem.
No matter how I twisted my arm, I couldn’t reach it.
“……”
That was when Ryan, who’d been watching from outside, came over without a word.
He took the gauze from my hand and pressed it neatly over the shoulder wound.
His hands were surprisingly practiced as he tore off medical tape and secured it in place.
“You’re good at this,” I said.
Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Well, if you want to live, you’d better get good. After a few years of this, you get used to it.”
As he spoke, he pressed the end of the tape down with a fingertip to finish.
Then he stepped back and perched on a folding chair, asking, “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask. Can’t you use a gun, or won’t you?”
He pointed at me with one finger. “I mean, you know, those little needles you kept flicking around. I thought maybe you just preferred that sort of thing. Like a ninja or something...”
This whole ninja obsession again.
I gave him a flat look and corrected him. “...I’m not a ninja. I’m Korean, for one thing. I just don’t know how to shoot. In Korea, it’s not exactly like you get to mess around with handguns.”
K2 rifles, maybe. I could shoot those just fine.
When I finished explaining that much, Ryan looked at me like he still found me strange.
It sounded like it would take ages to explain the rest, so I just shrugged.
“...Ha, well, I guess that can happen.”
Ryan chuckled and shook his head.
Then, twisting the cap back onto his water bottle, he changed the subject naturally.
“So, how about coming over to our side for real?”
He tossed it out casually, as if he were talking about the weather.
That was, if you ignored the fact that by our side, he meant the CIA.
“It’s a pretty damn decent job here. Sure, it’s dangerous, but the pay’s good and there are plenty of days off. Oh, and the benefits aren’t half bad either. It’s just a pain to file insurance if you get hurt on the job.”
He muttered the last part like a joke while touching the wound on his back.
Not a bad idea.
He wasn’t wrong.
The money I’d made before had been good, and what I was getting for this job would be very decent too.
If I used this to get more elixirs and raise my internal energy...
I could build up my power and keep earning a steady income at the same time.
If I used my abilities properly, this might actually suit me better than being a Korean medicine doctor.
Maybe making money fast and retiring early wouldn’t be such a bad life.
For now, I just smiled and didn’t answer.
Ryan didn’t press me further.
Just then, footsteps sounded from the hallway.
It was Elena. She must have changed clothes, because she was now wearing a light jacket.
“We’re ready to leave,” she said.
Ryan stood up from the chair and gave my shoulder a light pat.
Then, heading for the door without looking back, he tossed over his shoulder, “See you around.”
His figure disappeared down the hallway and out through the front door.
Marcus had been like that too—these people never seemed to put much meaning into goodbyes.
As if they’d be seeing each other again any minute now.
It was just Elena and me left in the living room.
She looked over the gauze on my shoulder and side. “...Are your wounds okay?”
“Luckily, they’re not deep.”
Elena nodded, but her gaze lingered for a moment longer.
She looked at the blood seeping faintly through the gauze, then finally looked away.
And in a businesslike tone, she went on, “I’m heading back to headquarters with Ryan and Bowman today.”
She drew a small breath, then met my eyes.
“I’ll process the reward I promised Dohyun as quickly as I can and send it over. You can trust me on that.”
There wasn’t a single extra word in her voice.
As always, she said exactly what needed saying.
But on that last line, her voice dropped just a little.
“...And.”
After a brief hesitation, Elena held out her hand.
“Good work.”
I took it.
It was a handshake too heavy to call casual, but too light to be a final farewell.
We held each other’s gaze without saying anything.
Elena let go first.
She gave a small nod, turned, and walked out.
“Hoo...”
I sank back into the folding chair.
The fluorescent light on the ceiling flickered faintly.
So this is really the end, huh.
For some reason, I felt oddly reluctant.
It had been the same in Hong Kong. That emptiness that came after the work was done.
This time, it felt even sharper.
My shoulder throbbed. My side ached.
And yet, strangely enough, I didn’t feel all that bad.
It was almost like something that had been missing for a long time had finally been filled again.
How ridiculous.
I let out a faint laugh and closed my eyes.
The fatigue I’d half-forgotten came crashing down on me all at once.
***
Langley, Virginia. CIA Headquarters.
It was late, past nine in the evening.
The floor had gone quiet after most of the staff had left, and half the hallway lights were already off.
David Hoffman, the Deputy Director of Operations, had two documents spread open side by side.
One was Lee Dohyun’s background investigation package from the Directorate of Analysis.
The other was the Osaka operation report.
“Hmm...”
Hoffman traced a finger down the profile summary as he read.
Graduated from medical school. Records showed intensive physical training before and after enrollment, but there was no history whatsoever of special combat or martial arts education. No criminal record. Limited foreign travel history. Almost no social media activity. Repeated collection and consumption history of herbal medicines and extracts of unidentified composition.
On paper, he was an utterly ordinary Korean man in his twenties.
Except for the part about collecting and taking specific herbal medicines.
Even that, really, made sense if he’d gone to medical school for Korean medicine.
Looks like he’s obsessive about his health.
But the field reports coming in had nothing to do with that record.
Not once, but twice.
In Hong Kong, he subdued multiple Triad members and former special-forces mercenaries with his bare hands.
In Osaka, he infiltrated a yakuza base alone and disabled more than ten men in an instant.
He even took down a yakuza lieutenant armed with a katana in close combat.
“The weapons he used were steel needles and a tactical knife, according to the report. It says he can’t shoot a gun.”
Hoffman glanced between the two documents, then took off his glasses and set them on the desk.
He pressed his fingers into his brow and let out a sigh.
“...Ha. Does that make any sense at all?”
Two people sat across from him.
Neil Campbell, chief of SAC, and the DA analyst who had put the package together.
“I joked after the last report and asked if it was spy fiction. But after reading this one, it seems this is a series. He took down a katana-wielding yakuza by himself? With needles and a knife?”
Hoffman put his glasses back on and asked, “How does that even happen?”
The DA analyst answered first. “...An individual with no combat training producing results at this level cannot be explained by our existing data model. Which means one of the two is wrong. Either the materials we collected, or the field report.”
Hoffman turned to Campbell. “Neil, your side?”
Campbell answered with his arms folded.
As a veteran from the field, he didn’t waste words.
“Brannen personally confirmed the scene. He’s not the kind of man to exaggerate pointless details.”
Hoffman gave a low snort.
“Right. The only thing that man exaggerates is women.”
Campbell’s mouth twitched just slightly before settling again.
“The issue is the source. There’s nothing in the records that explains where these abilities came from.”
The DA analyst jumped in again. “We verified everything we could through South Korea’s military administration and educational records. No special-forces history. No martial arts dojo or formal combat training records either.”
Hoffman nodded.
Then he pushed his chair back and turned toward the window.
Outside the dark glass, the parking lot’s streetlights glowed in a neat row.
“Let’s say he got insanely lucky once,” he said without turning around.
“But twice isn’t luck. If we can’t explain it, that means there’s something we don’t know. Talent, maybe. Or some damn superpower, for all I care.”
Silence fell for a moment.
Hoffman turned back to the desk and sat down again.
He picked up a paper cup of cold coffee, then set it back down without taking a sip.
“Either way, his record is clean and solid, right? Good. Then I’ll contact him myself. Ha, perfect timing too, isn’t it? With that damn hearing going on, no one’s paying attention around here. Bringing in one more person shouldn’t be a problem.”
Campbell narrowed his eyes.
For Acting Deputy Director Hoffman to make a personal move like this was unusually direct.
“Oh, and one more thing.”
Hoffman slid the documents aside and said to Campbell, “Set up a short training course. I’ve already told them to make room at The Farm, so keep that in mind. We’ll put him through the wringer in there and verify things step by step.”
Campbell stood and gave a short nod.
The DA analyst gathered the files and followed him out.
Alone in the office, Hoffman looked down once more at the profile photo bearing the name Lee Dohyun.
Then he wrote a single line on top of the document and turned off the lights.