Bridging Destinies

Chapter 6: The Eggs Will Be Runny

I leaned against a wall with my arms crossed, as we waited for our contact to return. Dana sat on a padded bench, tapping his foot lightly to the music we could hear resounding through the back hallways of the concert hall. Our sensitive ears could hear the screams of the fans and the nuances in the music, even from where we waited. The energy from the mass of people in the concert hall was resounding, bouncing off the walls and resonating against our skin, sinking into it. It was a pleasant sensation, if a little overwhelming. Humans emoted their emotions so loudly.

Gazing at my companion's foot, I shook my head and spoke into his mind, 'Don't get distracted. This is work, not play.' My voice inside his head was faintly mocking but with some affection.

'I am aware.' His response was light, punctuated by the poignant pause inside my mind before he spoke again, 'Says the one who teased our contact by popping the lights.' He retorted silently, giving me a somewhat arrogant look, but then he suddenly grinned. 'But the music is catchy, and the lyrics are good.' He informed me through our mind speech. I silently scoffed, saying nothing about my 'game' with the lights. It was a safety concern, after all, if maybe a little over the top.

Dana grew serious again as his eyes lost focus, and he seemed to see something not there. He spoke again into my mind, his tone decisive, 'The concert will end soon. Our contact will be ready.' His voice moved through my mind, the faint reverberation telling me that he watched the weave of the paths as he spoke. He moved towards the door, opening it carefully, and I followed closely behind him. As he did so, he shared the images of the path he could see through the weave. We would meet our contact where she did not expect us.

~~~

Both of us made our way towards where we anticipated our contact would be according to the path that Dana saw. The woman was surprised when Dana approached her from behind and spoke quietly in Korean, "We cannot wait. Do you have it?" He asked.

The woman grimaced at him and nodded, "Yeah, I do, but..." Dana shook his head, not allowing her to finish her sentence, as I stood guard from a short distance away. The woman stopped speaking at his look and frowned again, more deeply, "Okay." She said haltingly in English, a question lingering in her tone, then slipped back into Korean, as if making a sudden decision, "Follow me."

She brought us to a portion at the back side of the stage, where the music was naturally louder. As we stopped, at the back end of the hall, hidden from the stage in a corner, and most staff traffic, the music died away. The only thing that could be heard were the screams of the fans, which also faded as one of the band members began to speak. I recognize the voice as belonging to Kim Namjoon, speaking in sweet sentimental inflections to his fans.

Our contact leaned over and removed a false wall with a hidden compartment and handed Dana a sealed box and envelope. She cautioned, "Be careful. The eggs will be runny." It was clear to us that the woman didn't quite know why her words must be so cryptic, but she had them down well and hadn't left anything out.

The choice of words struck me as funny. 'Food metaphors for the details of our mission?' I wondered to myself. 'Who exactly decided that it was a good idea to use food metaphors?' I watched the two as Dana nodded and tucked the box under his arm. I sent a thought to Dana, 'Turmeric milk is a distinct detail to establish contact, but runny eggs?' Laughter trailed my thoughts as I communicated to him silently.

He sent me the equivalent of a mental shrug, as he smirked at me. He turned his full attention back to the woman, as she replaced the false wall over the hidden compartment. The woman then shifted and stood straight, scrutinizing him, "You won't be able to leave the way you came in. Security locked the back door down. You'll have to go out with the crowd through the front entrance."

~~~

Leaving out the front entrance to the concert hall was a cause for concern, but if we left before the crowds, we decided we would make it out before exiting became trickier. Deciding to discard the merchandise we had bought earlier to blend in, we kept the staff t-shirts on, and walked into the main section of the hall where the concert was finishing up. We opened a side door from the back hallways into the main arena and a staff member glanced at the door, then away after seeing our shirts marked 'Staff'.

The space was dim as the brightest lights were on the stage, in a sea of purple lights that moved with the movements of the fans in the crowd, while the men on it moved around, speaking to the audience, their images projected large upon the screens behind them. The both of us skirted around the edge of the crowd, heading towards the exit. As we moved past the last bit of security, I sent a mental note of energy to their minds, so that they would not look closely at the two of us, as I moved past them.

I glanced at the stage, then to the screens, briefly watching the men on it, my eyes finding the one I now knew as Namjoon, as I moved towards the exit. One of the men turned towards him and spoke, "And thank you, Namjoon-ah, for being the best leader!" The crowd waved their light sticks and cried out in agreement, a wave of voices in unison. I looked away from the stage, filing away the new information to consider later. Though it was not a fully conscious thought, I knew that there was a reason I kept seeing this man and wondered how our lives must be entangled. Yet, for now, I had a task to complete and would explore more later, I decided, as I followed Dana out of the main portion of the hall to travel back to our vehicle.

~~~

As we approached our car, Dana took out the key fob and handed me the box and envelope from where he was holding it between his arm and torso. He activated the electronic lock, and we entered the vehicle, buckling ourselves in. As he drove off, towards the home we were staying, I opened the envelope and began to look inside. There was a map with a location outside of South Korea and another inside the border of North Korea. Scribbled notes indicated that one of our own had traveled into the country and had since disappeared. We did not know if he was still on mission or had faded, with his body too far gone to heal. I shared what I saw inside the envelope with Dana, mentally sending him the images as I sifted through it.

My brows furrowed as I considered the information and spoke into the heavy silence of the car, the heaviness palpable, "Be careful. The eggs may be runny." My words were spoken in Korean and thoughtful, as I voiced what our contact had said. I continued to frown over the box, then spoke in our native tongue, reiterating my earlier mental comments on the choice of words, "Was the cloak and dagger phrasing so necessary?"

Dana shrugged, "She said they will be runny. The dagger must be precise." He responded, choosing to follow my verbal queue.

I rolled my eyes faintly, "Fine." Then I sighed, releasing a deep breath, "We will be precise." I looked at a picture of a building as I sifted through the contents of the envelope, "Then it is runny. So either partially cooked, or not cooked at all. The shell is broken and the yoke is leaking from it, or all over the plate or pan. So this will be messy and most definitely dangerous." I said, as I glanced over at Dana.

His response came slowly, inside my mind, 'I think so. He may already be gone, as well.'

I bit my lip and took another deep breath, tears welling up in my eyes, but not spilling over, as anger mingled with pain at the possibility, "Then it may be a body retrieval." I said out loud.

Dana's response came out low, as he failed to fight against his own emotion, tears moving down his cheeks, "Yes. I will look at the paths to understand more." I put the items back into the envelope and sealed it, then looked out of the window. The tears I fought overcame me, and I joined him in silent grief as I gazed without seeing through the glass. It was as if we both sensed what this mission had become, cleaning up after the loss of one of our own.