The protector

Troubled (M)

Pyongyang, 2027, November

Carrying her bike by hand, Mimmi was walking along Taehak street, the massive – and, provided the context, pretty eccentric looking, - figure of her friend Klaus counterbalancing her understated one. As it often happened when he spent some time more in his office, they'd casually met at the corner of the street and were now sharing the usual end-of-the-day-trivialities, the perspective of their warm places animating the mood. Formally still Autumn, it was already icy outside that year.

That was their tone, on that ordinary afternoon of the end of November. Nothing different from the day before, nothing promising that the day after would have been different. Of course, the trial was forcing In-ah to hide at Jeong Hyeok's apartment and they all were, at one time, worried for her and constantly on alarm for themselves. But nothing had changed in their repetitive daily routine: except for Jeong Hyeok's father's men who were guarding the building, and for Man-bok whose appearances had increased in frequency, their schedules hadn't undergone changes, not really.

And that was the reason why, when they turned at the last corner and glimpsed a black, luxury sedan parked outside their building, the vision caused them a jolt.

"Stop," Mimmi halted her friend by putting a hand on his chest, with the other one hurrying to take her phone as fast as the icy fingers allowed her. There were many missed calls and a text from In-ah. They'd sent someone to clean my home so don't worry if you see new faces. But eyes open as usual.

It took her less than one second to pick up the pieces.

If she'd learnt something through her years in NK, it was that, when it was about personalities like Ri Cheong Ryeol, there was no real difference between staff and army. The men who were now guarding their building probably also functioned as gardeners, plumbers, chauffeurs. In all roles his 'ears and eyes.' And he'd now probably sent his personal maids – it was only logical for him to use a high-security protocol for the place where his son lived -. And if gender roles were no opinion – and in NK they weren't – inside that car must have been the Vice Marschallin of the army's female wing.

"Mind sharing who do you think they are?"

"Jeong Hyeok's family maids."

"Maids in a Mercedes. (1) Welcome to a whole new level of social divide."

"Shhhh, Jeong Hyeok's mom must be inside the car, she could hear you."

But that was the only thing she'd been wrong about. Because, to their surprise, it was in the hall of the building, instead, that they found something odd.

A thin woman, elegantly attired, was nervously walking in circles, the hands demurely folded in her lap. Composed, gracious, her face well chiselled and sweet.

"Klaus, go, please," Mimmi asked her friend while stopping in the hall.

"Madame, can I ask you if you maybe are the mom..."

The woman slightly gasped while realizing that the western face was talking to her, though she didn't give Mimmi the time to continue her question: her nod, and a guilty look, completed it for her.

The Spanish found her nosey and tender at the same time.

"My... I'm waiting for the house to be cleaned, my staff is upstairs."