Episode 10 – Motel Truths and Broken Glass
Rain hammered the windshield as Kevin turned off the highway onto a narrow service road. Guen sat beside him, scanning Alex's live map on her phone. Behind them, Minjae's sleek car purred in the darkness, headlights cutting arcs through wet night.
Alex's voice crackled over comms: "Target's room 214, second floor. No visible guards."
In the backseat, Miran clutched her toxin kit to her chest, heart racing. Dohee scrolled through case files, brow furrowed, lips moving silently as she rehearsed questions. Minjae, behind the wheel of his own car, smirked into the mirror, hair damp from the rain.
---
They parked beside the run-down motel. Neon letters flickered overhead: "Sunrise Inn" — ironic under black clouds.
Kevin glanced at Guen. "Stay behind me."
"I can handle myself," she shot back, voice lower, more tense than biting.
His eyes softened just a fraction, but he turned away. "Still. Behind me."
---
Minjae slung a baseball bat across his shoulder — cover story for a drunk guest, but more real than it looked. He jerked his chin at Miran, who stood half-hidden behind Alex. "Stay close, kitten. Or you might blow away."
Miran's fingers tightened on her kit. "I'm fine," she whispered, barely audible.
"Cute when you lie," Minjae murmured, eyes glinting. She looked away, heat prickling her cheeks.
---
They moved up the rusted staircase, rainwater dripping from the railing. Room 214's door was chipped, paint peeling.
Dohee knocked softly, her lawyer's calm voice slipping out: "Room service."
No answer.
Kevin stepped forward, shoulder tensing — then slammed into the door. The lock splintered, door swung open, revealing a man crouched beside the bed, phone in hand, face pale.
"Don't move!" Kevin barked, voice edged with steel.
The aide froze, hands up, eyes wide with fear.
---
Inside, the room smelled of cheap cologne and panic. Papers scattered across the stained carpet. An empty syringe lay near an ashtray.
Guen moved first, latex gloves snapping on as she picked up the syringe. "Same residue," she muttered to Miran, who knelt beside her, kit open, vials ready.
Kevin loomed over the aide. "Why did you kill him?"
"I didn't! I swear!" the aide choked out, sweat beading on his temple.
Dohee stepped closer, rain dripping from her hair. "Then why run?"
The man swallowed, voice trembling: "They told me to… clean it up. Make it look like an accident."
---
Alex, leaning near the window, fingers dancing over his tablet. "Who is 'they'?" he asked without looking up.
The aide's eyes darted around the room. "I don't know their names… just a voice. He said 'do it, or your family disappears.'"
Kevin's voice was low, dangerous. "Who were you working for? The congressman?"
"Yes," the aide gasped. "But he wasn't the one who ordered the death. It came from… higher up. Someone powerful."
Kevin's jaw tightened. "Names."
"I don't—" the aide began.
---
Suddenly, glass shattered. A bullet slammed through the window, missing Alex's head by inches, burying itself into the cheap plaster.
Kevin tackled the aide to the floor. Guen dropped beside them, heart hammering. Minjae lunged to the window, peering out through shards.
"Sniper on the rooftop opposite!" Minjae barked, voice sharp for once, all playfulness gone.
Alex ducked behind the thin curtain, tablet clutched to his chest. "We're blind on that side. Too dark, too wet."
---
"Move!" Kevin shouted.
Minjae kicked the door wider, grabbed Miran's wrist. She stumbled after him, clutching her kit, tears springing from shock. Behind them, Dohee shielded Alex, who kept tapping frantically.
Guen helped pull the aide up. "Stay down!" she snapped.
Another bullet tore into the doorframe, splinters raining over them.
---
They spilled out into the rain. Minjae shoved Miran into the back of his car, slammed the door. "Don't move!" he barked through the glass. She stared, trembling.
Kevin dragged the aide into the second car, Guen jumping in after them. Alex slid into the front, Dohee beside him.
Minjae swung behind his wheel, engine growling to life. His grin was feral, adrenaline burning in his veins. "Hold on," he murmured to no one.
---
The cars peeled out of the parking lot. Headlights flashed across wet asphalt. A flash — muzzle flare from the rooftop — another bullet whined past.
Minjae twisted the wheel, tires screeching. Miran's head slammed back against the seat. "Sorry, kitten," he muttered, eyes locked on the rearview. "Better bruised than dead."
---
Kevin's voice cut through comms: "Minjae, take point!"
"With pleasure." Minjae accelerated, water spraying from the tires. A black SUV roared from an alley, blocking the street.
"Shit," Kevin growled.
---
Minjae didn't slow. "Duck!" he barked.
Miran yelped, curling small. Minjae spun the wheel, car fishtailing. The rear clipped the SUV's bumper, sending it spinning. The road opened; Minjae gunned forward, breathing hard, a grin tearing across his face.
Behind, Kevin's car followed, Alex cursing softly as glass rained from a cracked side window.
---
Minutes later, in a hidden underpass
Both cars skidded to a stop. Engines ticked. Rain drummed overhead.
Kevin stepped out, breathing hard. "Everyone okay?"
Miran wiped tears, nodding mutely. Minjae's chest rose and fell, knuckles white on the wheel.
Alex checked the aide, who was shaking violently. "He's alive," Alex said. "But in shock."
---
Guen turned to Kevin, voice low: "Higher up? This isn't random."
Kevin nodded, dark eyes meeting hers. "Someone doesn't just hire snipers for an aide. This is bigger."
---
Dohee rubbed rain from her face. "And now they know we're close."
Minjae leaned back, a wild light in his eyes. "Let them come," he growled. "I want to meet them."
Miran flinched at his tone, sinking lower into her seat.
---
Kevin's phone vibrated. Alex had pulled something from the aide's tablet before the shot: a single name.
Alex read it out, voice quiet: "Councilman Kwon."
Silence. Then Kevin's voice, hard as granite: "That's our next target."