TARGET

마흔

The austere storage room was practically uprooted.

Joshua peered over his shoulder at the wreckage amidst riffling through the boxes hastily. His frame trembled with adrenaline, his hands feeling foreign as they operated on their own account.

It mocked them, the fact of the matter is that they stood in the same room of the target they have been in pursuit for years,

The floor beneath his combat boots croaked under his shifting weight as he and Jaemin  ransacked the room, although, the antecedent condition wasn't ostentatious either.

The music box's dainty symphony and the reverberation of the militia steadfastly approaching, in consonance when concocting unrest in the pit of his stomach,

He and Jaemin had less than a minute and a half.

There was no way they would make it.

Joshua swiftly turned on his heel to search the other side,

and at the midpoint of his discourse, he heard a hollow thud behind him.

The wooden doll had fallen out his satchel,

Joshua expeditiously reached for the figurine, the toe of his boot tapping the hollowed lumber as he leaned to retrieve its limp body.

wait.

"Hyung we have 90 seconds, don't stand around for fucks sake-"

STOMP

Joshua pummeled the wooden floor with the sole of his boot, albeit futile,

Jaemin sputtered, aghast, "What the fuck-"

Joshua grunted, "They can hear us now, they'll come faster, so go stand watch,"

Upon watching the elder helplessly maul the rickety lumber, Jaemin pursed his lips into a thin line, but promptly ran out the room,

Joshua bashed the splintered wood beneath him, and not soon after, the wood caved in, the splinters formulating a wreath clinging to his clothed ankle, biting into the fabric of his pant sleeve.

70 seconds...

His hands dove to the wreckage, his gloves torn, bestrewn with splinters that penetrated his skin as well, although he couldn't feel it amid the adrenaline running rampant in his veins,

40 seconds...

Sifting through the sawdust and remnants of debris, he lay his eyes upon a lustrous leather face,

a brief case,

30 seconds...

He erratically pried open the capsule, the seals of the case trouncing-

and bills spilled out, pooling at his thighs.

Monetary value was practically useless at that point in time, thus rendering the suitcase a dupe,

until he saw a glint of-

"HYUNG!"

Joshua whipped his head to find Jaemin busting through the room, barbarically composed, bloodied and hobbling,

"I got about a dozen of them but, I-I couldn't I'm so-"

The outcry of an assault rifle rang out behind the boy, Jaemin dove to the ground,

Joshua drew his handgun, promptly realizing how measly it was compared to what the opposition possessed.

Before his eyes,

they flooded in, rifles lifted to their eye line, cocked and loaded.

His stomach pulled, latching onto his heart and pulling it down along its sinking vessel,

It was all in slow motion, the shower of bullets gracefully soaring through the stagnant aura of the storage room,

Is this really it?

He closed his eyes, bracing for impact.

impact.

ahem?

Joshua opened his eyes,

he was face to face with a bullet, buoyant in the sea of heavy air.

wait.

Did he just-

"Joshua, get out of there the music boxes are over in 30 seconds,"

Joshua pried his eyes away from the flood of stoic guards, frozen in time amidst pooling in from the dilapidated entry way.

Regaining composure, the elder scooped up Jaemin, crimson painted over his skin, mask torn off, revealing his recessing features, parched lips parted with hisses of breath slipping in between.

He fled the ruins just as the final chords of the song rang out.

Slightly beforehand:

He used his pads of his finger to graze the ajar door, which slowly recoiled to his touch.

"You really sat here the entire time, huh?" Soonyoung queried, cocking his head as he rested against the door frame, studying the target:

He rested on the palms of his hands which dug into the dipped comforter. The bedroom, a serene scape opposed to the vestiges of ransacked residence just past the egress,

His blond hair perched adroitly atop his scalp, the loose fitting cotton shirt hanging off his petite frame,

"They had it under control,"

Soonyoung scoffed, scrutinizing the target, "I'm curious of your definition of 'control,'"

"Control is when I don't have to intervene,"

The ravenette whistled, "Ballsy much?"

The target let out an airy chuckle, "Maybe. Your little song is about to end, you know,"

The tranquil nature of the encounter wasn't exactly counterfeit, but the restraint was mutual upon the basis of practicality, as superficial as it was,

"You figured it out?"

"I'm not as thick-headed as my colleagues," the blond drawled,

Soonyoung straightened his garments, "Well, I'll be on my way, plan on stopping me?"

"No,"

"I assumed so, have a nice rest, sir,"

"Likewise,"

Thereafter, the building imploded as he walked away from the scene, he was left to wonder if the small man was able to leave before the detonation.