Glitter and Gunshots

ARMY

Jungkook POV

"Hwang y/n." The boss tread back and forth between us, his eyes glistening with the dark malice of a new mission, the newly imprinted scar on his neck glaring at us from where it peeked beneath his blouse.

He whipped his hand out, pointing upon the projected image. "Our next target. No hesitations with this one, boys. We were given two weeks to take her out. An extra bonus of $50,000 is promised per day if we get her in sooner. Dead or alive."

My brothers around me all nodded in agreement. I looked from one hyung's face to the next, all cast in the fluorescent glow emitted from the projection of the most-wanted hitman to have escaped, beating the record only set by the master serial killer we'd hunted down a few weeks before this.

I turned back to the image. My instincts told me this couldn't be right. There was no way this—this was the $20 million assignment we'd been given.

"But—she's only a kid—" My eyebrows furrowed, my words fizzling out on my tongue, eyes darting back and forth between the image on the image floating in midair and our boss.

He cocked his eyebrow, which I could only tell from the shifting of the shadows on his face. "As are you, yet here you are, aren't you, kid? Let's get one thing clear, shall we, and this goes out to all of you, not just Kookie here—" Namjoon slammed his cane down, his legs spread widely beneath him, his eyes holding each of our members dangerously before leveling his gaze on the next one. "Do not drop your guards, boys. One second of hesitance with this one, and she will literally carve your innards out and drape them across an alley in the symbol in the shape of a dick."

When Taehyung turned to Jimin and Hoseok giggling, Namjoon simply clicked the remove, and—

An actual image of this exact crime scene, including the bloody remains of the body the organs belonged to, jumped up on the screen, causing Tae to jump back in horror, clutching at Hoseok. Jin grimaced, muttering something about having just eaten. Jimin's eyes, which were big enough beforehand, widened as his lips parted.

My stomach flipped, causing me to turn away at the sight. Namjoon too clicked off the image, looking awfully disgusted himself. Even that had been too graphic for him to bear, and he'd seen much more than the rest of us.

Yoongi was the only one who looked moderately unaffected. He continued staring at the screen where the image had been, as though remembering something or connecting a dot. He could be remembering he left the burner on. Or he could be remembering an encounter with the dead leader that had been cut up on the screen before. I wouldn't be surprised knowing how haunted his background was.

"I told you so. No. Hesitation. No slip ups. We cannot afford a singular instance of that, you understand, men?"

All of us murmured yes's or nodded. Namjoon rolled his eyes, then barked out, "Do you understand me, men?!"

"Yes, sir." We all stood, backs straight, voices firm and sharp.

"Now that's what I want to hear." Namjoon's teeth glinted in the dark room. "Now let's get to work."

Y/n POV

As it turned out, playing with cootie catchers really did help pass the time as you hid out inside an enormous, cylindric tube at the set of an abandoned construction site.

Sighing, you took a bite of the beef jerky you'd swiped after your trip to a convenience store earlier. While Band-Aids couldn't exactly heal venomous bullet grazes, and sewing string and rubbing alcohol weren't the ideal told you'd chosen to stitch yourself up, you supposed they'd have to do before you could risk calling any old contacts for help.