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“I don’t know if I’m well equipped enough to do this, you guys,” his voice ran over the speaker, and Jihoon scoffed, the hacker clacking away at the keyboard in front of him.
“It’s your first job, Hansol, if you don’t take the leap now, you never will,” Jihoon replied, monitoring the cameras of the museum.
“Yeah, and it’s not like you’re losing your virginity or anything, so just relax,” Jeonghan’s voice rang smoothly on the other line, and Hansol choked, Jihoon snickering at him.
“Don’t make my life harder than it already is, yeah?”
Since that moment, he’d been through four different heists, eight robberies, and two occasions of nearly being caught, but Hansol still saw no appeal in any of the treasure in that room.
Rather, the only object of fascination he sought was the person guarding it outside. They paced the spot in the front of the door, waiting to leave. After all, the museum’s doors did lock after nine.
And every spy knows that trying to sneak into a museum after its hours is asking for a dance with death.
(And a few lasers, too.)
And so Hansol tried to steady his breathing, doing his best to lay low in the cramped, dusty and tight air ducts.
The light that shone from the duct let him see enough of his watch to know that he had a minute.
Wait for the signal… wait for it..
The lights in the room shut off, and Hansol swore he heard the door close as he bust through the shaft with his foot, sinking slowly down into a part of the room’s corridor.
Within a few seconds after his entrance, however, Jihoon and Jeonghan on the other line began to panic.
“Why are the lights turning back on?!” “Why can’t I disable the cameras?!” “Abort, Hansol, abort—!”
The line cut out, and all one could hear was pure static.
Soon enough, the lights flashed, and Hansol grimaced, knowing he probably looked like a deer caught in headlights.
He didn’t have time at all to try and escape as he was hit roughly in the head with something unrecognizable, and Hansol fell forward with a thump, falling unconscious.
He wasn’t sure how many hours had passed, but Hansol awoke with a gasp, staring into a bright light that he forced his head down at, seeing blue spots in his vision.
His gear was still on, though his earpiece had disappeared, and a lot of the equipment on him was gone, leaving him in a black bulletproof bodysuit, mostly. Shifting, he felt a slight edge in the side of his suit, and recognized the shape of his emergency pocketknife.
He was sat in a chair, one with his arms restricted. Steadying his breathing again, he used his fingers and felt for his other hand.
“Rope,” he muttered. “Diagonal lashing knot. Two inches thick. Not impossible to get out of, but not easy, either.”
While fiddling with the knot that restrained his hands, Hansol took into notice his surroundings.
Small room. 9x12. Two exits. One window, but it’s not a window. Two-way mirror. Almost like a police interrogation room. No doubt there’ll be guards outside.
Feeling an edge of the knot loosen, he groaned, feeling sweat roll down his face.
“I really messed up this time.”
Hearing the door behind him unlock, he stiffened. “Quit struggling. You’ll only make this worse for you if you try to escape.”
They walked around him, and a folder was slammed on the table in front of him.
“Hansol Vernon Chwe?”
Hansol regretfully looked up, much to his dismay.
“This was not how I planned on getting my heart broken.”