𝙈𝙞𝙨𝙛𝙞𝙩 (Mark Lee assassin AU)

Chapter 1

"This is Mark Lee speaking, how may I help?"

"Good evening Mister Lee. My name is Judith Anderson. I'm just checking in to see whether you landed safely here in Canada."

"Thank you for calling, Miss Anderson. I landed about thirty minutes ago, I'm already on my way to the hotel."

"Great! I need you to call me back as soon as you arrive at your hotel; I will send somebody over to give you further orders. I hope you had a great and uncomplicated flight, and that you will enjoy the hotel we have selected for you. I will no longer disturb your peace, Mister Lee."

I placed my phone beside me in the leather car seat. A fancy black limousine picked me up about ten minutes ago and we were now heading northeast. The familiar skyscrapers passed by and I couldn't help but feel a little nostalgic. Vancouver hasn't changed a lot in the last few years, but it still feels very different.

Over time, the sky scrapers reduced, the buildings became more and more humble, and the driver told me that we will soon be exiting Vancouver. I would be living in a hotel near Mount Seymour. There was no need in putting me in a more hidden place, he said. I would become suspicious among residents. 

"Vancouver has become filthy. I've never seen so much crime happening in such a short amount of time in one place. I bet you're going to chase after one of those drug lords who are causing an uproar here."

"I can't disclose any of the information I will be given. But I'm sure you'll see it in the media later on," I replied.

"Of course, of course! Didn't mean to make it sound like I want any info..."

The drive went on in silence. The road we drove on became steeper and less and less people became visible. We were surrounded by trees and snow.

Eventually, we reached a two-story building right on the curve of the road. A big sign that simply read "HOTEL" in capped letters greeted us. There were a few cars parked in the parking lot and two older men sitting on a bench sipping on their hot drinks. It was February, so you could see the steam coming out of their paper cups. A ski rental was on the right side of the building and on the left there was a small cafe. The lights were on everywhere, as expected at a time like this. 8:30 pm.

The driver helped me with my luggage and left soon after. I entered the hotel and was met with the warm smile of the receptionist. The interior looked far more modern than the exterior, which was built out of old wood. The floors were stained maple wood, the walls were painted grey and decorated with fancy paintings by modern artists. You can never tell what the hell those paintings are supposed to depict. I noticed that each building was actually interconnected, as there were passageways leading to each separate building. 

"Mister Mark Lee, correct?" the blonde receptionist asked.

"Yes, that's right."

Her slim fingers reached for the keys hanging behind her and handed me one with the number 222. Three times my favorite number. 

"The first number indicates the floor you will live in and the other two indicate your room number. This means that you will be living on the second floor in room 22. There is an elevator just around the corner that you can take in case the luggage is too heavy. Enjoy your stay!"

After a quick thank you I made my way up to my room. 

The room I entered was pretty big for a seemingly cheap hotel. It had to be approximately 12 square meters big. One bed with wooden frames, a table by the wall with a chair standing by it, a closet, and a door leading to the washroom. The washroom was the same size as the main room, which surprised me, with there being enough space for at least two people to get ready in. The shower in the right corner was pretty large, yet there was enough space for a bathtub.  The toilet had all kinds of buttons with no levers. The sink was a flat one, which was a little disappointing, but the mirror was big, at least. In the reflection I saw an extremely tired face. My bleached hair was tousled, my glasses weren't sitting right and the rings under my eyes said enough about the thirteen hour flight from Seoul. My shirt had a little stain and was wrinkled from all the leather seats I sat in in the last 24 hours. 

Then I remembered that I had to make a call to let the same woman know that I had arrived. 

I unzipped my bags and took out clothes that would make me look presentable. I went with a simple white button up and black pleated pants. My reflection stared back at me in the mirror, and it was looking alright. I took the phone out of my pocket and made a quick call with Miss Anderson. I hid my bags under the bed so that no one will see them and now it was time to wait.