February 19, 2018
Japan, 9:30 p.m.
The cold bit my fingers, my nose, my lips, every breath felt like frost. Night had fallen long ago, and most of the train cabins were dim. The lights were muted, letting the passengers rest. The only sounds were the low hum of the engine and the wind against the glass. Soft enough to drown out the faint murmurs, snores, and rustling that came with uneasy sleep.
Two hundred and forty-three passengers rode that train that night. Probably less than a quarter were actually asleep. Twelve passenger cars, four cargo, three for luggage. Ten bathrooms, two reserved for staff. Nine emergency exits, twelve emergency windows. Forty-three crew members, two conductors.
The Kyoto–Tokyo line wasn't as crowded as usual. It was off-season, after all. We were also the last train of the night. The perfect place for underworld exchanges to take place. My job was to get all the intel possible, without creating much casualties.
Suh Cheol, the pampered heir of a multimillion-dollar cosmetics empire: S.K. Cosmetics which behind closed doors, dealt in chemical weapons and served a big role for political meetings. That night he was the guest of our biggest worry these days: a Japanese commissioner with no record, no name, and too much mystery.
The company's original owner —his father— still ran things publicly, which meant it wouldn't be wise for him to get his hands dirty. We knew beforehand that his eldest son would be conducting the meeting tonight unless, of course, the one boarding at the maintenance stop turned out to be the bastard son, Byeol JaeMin. A walking pain in the ass.
Cheol would've made things easier for us, playing his part as a spoiled, arrogant, selfish costumer. All greed, no brain. JaeMin, on the other hand, was sharp and dangerous. Raised by his mother — a casino consort — he had learned to survive through malice and hate. He'd do anything to humiliate his brother, to crawl his way into his father's graces. No one knew what tricks he'd bring, and just thinking about it made my temples throb. As if that weren't enough, we also had the mysterious commissioner to worry about, a man of shadows. No records, no face, no trace. Those who'd seen him had vanished as though they'd never existed. And no matter how much you tried to get a piece of information about him, no one dared to speak even at the verge of death.
I'd been sitting for hours in my seat. Across from me, a woman and her young son slept, finally at peace after what must have been a long battle to get him to doze off. There were fifteen of us in that cabin, scattered among the seats, most leaning back in uneasy rest.
The maintenance stop was approaching, the perfect cover for the VIP to get on the train unnoticed. The wife of one of the chauffeurs worked for S.K. Cosmetics as their ambassador in Japan. She was likely resting her eyes somewhere in a private room, waiting to receive the VIP and guide him to the hidden compartment inside one of the cargo cars, where the exchange would take place if nothing went wrong.
The train came to a stop.
"Horus, talk to me," I whispered, hiding my mouth behind a feigned yawn.
Static. Then his voice came through, low and tense.
[ It's Byeol JaeMin. I don't have full satellite visuals, but from the nearby cameras, he's definitely alone. ]
A sigh escaped me, half annoyance, half resignation.
[ It's not ideal, but still manageable. We've got partial intel on the commissioner, from what I checked from Kioto's station security cameras— a man in a mask. Looks like one of those used for radiation units. ]
"Radiation?" I muttered. "Someone has… eccentric tastes."
I stood, careful not to disturb the silence, and made my way to the restroom. Climbing onto the toilet, I reached behind a vent grate and pulled out a small box, disassembling and reassembling it until a compact weapon took shape in my hands. Once we reached Tokyo, losing the targets would be easy. The mission had to be quick, clean, and invisible.
[ Half the train's staff are connected to S.K. Cosmetics ] Horus continued. [ They've been planning this meeting for months. There aren't many points to intercept the USB. If JaeMin gets his hands on it, we'll lose the objective entirely. Don't need to remember whatever happened in Denmark ]
I exhaled sharply, slipping the miniature Glock into the leather band around my wrist that also hid a retractable dagger. I recalled that bloodbath in Denmark, and Jaemin disgusting grin while dragging corpses around him.
"I know, I know. I'll do it. Trust me, I don't want to see that son of a bitch's face either."
Under the sink was another hidden compartment. I pulled out a vacuum-sealed bag with the uniform of the train's crew. After changing, I straightened my hair, forced a polite smile, and checked my reflection.
[ The commissioner's in the last car, ]Horus said.
I had roughly thirty minutes to intercept the USB. In my pocket was a replica ready to replace the real one. If all went well, I could finally rest. God, how I missed sleep. Jet lag had been tearing me apart. I'd kill for a grill, or at least a bowl of kimchi soup. A hot shower. A bed and warm blankets.
[ Yeom Ra, ] Horus paused. [ Good luck. ]
It wasn't unusual for him to say that, but the hesitation in his tone told me this mission could be trickier than expected. Even if he believed I could pull it off, his concern lingered. An unfair kind of pity.
I didn't reply.
My steps were steady and quiet as I moved toward the back of the train. I grabbed a tray along the way, with a bottle of sake and two glasses, just to play the part.
The last car was almost completely dark, pitch black, save for the faint outline of the seats and doors that I remembered from before.
Twenty minutes.
I stepped forward carefully. No way the commissioner was asleep; he knew I was here.
"Sir, your guest is waiting," I announced, voice even. Silence. I cleared my throat, moved closer. "Sir?"
My hand brushed over his body — and met nothing but a corpse.
"Shit, shit, shit," I hissed, searching his pockets in vain for the USB. Nothing.
Then I heard footsteps pounding down the corridor, heavy, deliberate. Armed. I scanned for an escape and found only one: the roof.
Adrenaline hit like fire. I darted through the back door, climbed the side ladder, and pulled myself onto the roof. The cold wind whipped my face, but balance came naturally as it wasn't my first time. And yet, something in me froze. Every nerve screamed. My body tensed. Instinct. Someone was looking at me, no, hunting me. I was being hunted.
I looked around. And there, near the conductor's car, stood a man. A giant.
Every fiber of me whispered danger. Cold sweat trickled down my spine: fear, adrenaline, pure animal instinct crawling in my body, eating al my nerves from inside out. Making me go numb. He moved slowly at first, like death itself pacing toward me. Then he stopped, reached for the emergency hatch of the seventh cargo car.
The commissioner, that's gotta be him.
I forced my legs to move. It wasn't over yet. I charged forward and slammed into him, it was like hitting a wall of steel. I got to push him on the floor, and distracted him with a low hit on the solar plexus. My nose exploded with pain, blood spilling down my lips, but I'd done it I'd swiped the USB.
"Hey."
His voice was guttural, raspy, mainly.
I couldn't see his eyes, his mask hid them completely. It wasn't a radiation mask. It was a plague doctor's mask, sharp-beaked and cruel. The beak had grazed my cheek, leaving a shallow diagonal cut. He wore a black suit, too large for his frame, a white shirt, a red tie. Black latex gloves. A luxury watch. He reeked of damp cork and wine, and his breathing was heavy likely from a broken nose. At least it wasn't just me.
Even far from him, I could still feel his presence, the predator's gaze clinging to my skin.
I ran, didn't look back. I knew if I did, he'd be there. His hunger, his breath, right at my neck. I threw myself into the conductors' cabin. Both men turned, startled and lunged. I fought back, quick and brutal, knocking them out before the pounding above grew louder. He was close.
Cursing under my breath, I tore through the compartments, searching everywhere for a parachute that was hidden under one of the chauffeurs seats.I grabbed it and sprinted toward the rear. Every nerve screamed. My heart thundered in my skull. Heat, pain, terror: none of it mattered. I just ran.
If I hesitated, I'd die. I could feel it on my bones.
The connection between the last cargo car and the passenger car opened to the night sky. Just one more minute. The train would pass over a cliff platform , my only chance. I felt the reaper's breath behind me, cold and damp. Every hair on my body stood. His steps quickened. I counted down, gripping the railing.
Fifteen — the silence shattered by the conductor's wife screams, while stepping into the reaper's path.
Ten — wild gunfire, shots with no aim. That woman and her son must have woken up by now, what a shame.
Five — JaeMin's men joined in, the lunatic shouting, ordering everyone in his path to be killed.
Zero. Time to fly.
The fall was deep the gravity pulled at me without mercy. My stomach felt empty and the wind smashed my face. The parachute caught, slowing the drop, letting me drift above the treetops until I crashed through them and hit the forest floor.
I laid there, breathing hard. The adrenaline drained, leaving only pain. My nose throbbed. I set it back with a sharp snap. Better.
[ Yeom Ra? ]
Horus's voice broke through the static, anxious.
"How about a barbecue this weekend?" I murmured, exhaling. "My treat."
A short laugh in relief and disbelief filtered through the line. I couldn't help joining in, leaning back against a tree to catch my breath.
[ You motherfucker, ] he said.