Namjin Oneshots

Chapter 17: Infiltration

The first light of dawn filtered through the trees as Seokjin, Namjoon, and Yoongi prepared to leave the safe house. The air was cold and still, an eerie calm before the storm. Seokjin’s father sat by the small fireplace, a thin blanket wrapped around his shoulders, staring into the flickering flames. His face was gaunt, haunted by the weight of his decisions and the knowledge of what was to come.

Namjoon loaded his gun, sliding it into the holster strapped to his chest. He turned to Seokjin, his expression hard but protective. "We’ll need to move fast and stay quiet. If Han is still alive, we can’t risk drawing attention to ourselves before we reach him."

Seokjin nodded, adjusting the bag slung over his shoulder. "We can’t afford any mistakes."

Yoongi stood by the door, tapping away at his laptop one last time before slipping it into his own pack. "I’ve cross-referenced everything I could find—satellite images, old records, even some backdoor data from Project Atlas. Han’s last known location is an old warehouse complex on the outskirts of Seoul, near the river. It’s remote, but if we’re lucky, it’ll give us the cover we need."

Namjoon nodded, his eyes narrowing. "And if we’re not lucky?"

"Then we’ll be walking into a trap," Yoongi replied, his voice calm and matter-of-fact. "Either way, we’ll find out soon enough."

Seokjin glanced back at his father, who hadn’t moved since they’d begun preparing. He felt a surge of conflicting emotions—anger, sadness, and a lingering sense of duty. "We’ll be back with Han," Seokjin said, his voice firm but not unkind. "When we return, you’ll help us stop this."

His father didn’t look up, but Seokjin caught the slight nod of his head, a silent acknowledgment of the promise they had made.

Without another word, the three of them headed out into the early morning light, the cold biting at their skin as they climbed into the SUV. Namjoon drove, his hands steady on the wheel, while Yoongi navigated from the passenger seat, his eyes glued to the map on his tablet. Seokjin sat in the back, his heart pounding as they sped through the winding roads toward Seoul.

The city loomed in the distance, a jagged silhouette against the pale sky. As they approached the industrial outskirts, the streets grew emptier, the buildings more dilapidated. It was a place forgotten by time, the perfect hiding spot for someone like Director Han—if he was still alive.

"Take the next left," Yoongi instructed, his voice barely above a whisper. "We’re close."

Namjoon slowed the car, turning onto a narrow, cracked road that led toward the river. The warehouse complex came into view—an enormous, decaying structure surrounded by overgrown grass and rusting fences. It looked abandoned, but Seokjin knew better than to trust appearances.

"This is it," Yoongi confirmed, scanning the area. "I’m not picking up any security feeds or surveillance equipment, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t watching. Stay sharp."

Namjoon parked the car a few hundred meters from the main entrance, hiding it behind a cluster of trees. They moved quickly, keeping low as they made their way toward the warehouse, their eyes scanning every shadow, every corner. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the distant hum of the river.

As they approached the building, Namjoon signaled for them to stop. He crouched down, his eyes narrowing as he studied the entrance. "No guards. That’s not a good sign."

Yoongi knelt beside him, pulling out a small device from his bag. "Let me check for motion sensors." He ran the device along the walls, his face impassive. "Nothing. Either this place is really abandoned, or they don’t expect anyone to find it."