無限大

          It has been close to two hours that he’s been lying on his stomach, finger near the trigger. He’s working on the second lollipop in his mouth, stuffed in his left cheek. In the right one, he feels the hard shell casing containing cyanide in case something goes wrong. It’s cold, and the finger-topless gloves do little for keeping his digits flexible enough to move with ease, but he is not fazed. ❝Just another day at work.❞ He tells himself out loud, pitiful attempt at consolation that he is to do what he has to do. There has been reported increased activity of North Korean spies the past month, tensions thick between the two countries and infiltration not as rare as the government had hoped them to be.

Hyacinth, his dogtag reads. No birthdate, no other name, no number. Just Hyacinth. If he fails, if he somehow gets captured, this is the end of the line for him. 

His stomach, chest, and thighs feel cold, pressed against the cold concrete roof. The scope of his rifle wouldn’t be able to be seen even if the men who were supposed to arrive had binoculars. Cloaked in darkness, there is nothing that will bring him harm--unless he misses. Two hours of waiting and they should arrive any moment now.

Any moment.

His ear buzzes when the piece stuffed in it comes to alive. “Three Buks, target Lim wearing white shirt. Take him out, Wisteria handles the rest.” He hears a female voice speak. He knows her as Messenger only.

❝Roger that.❞ He replies, rolling the lollipop from his cheek to behind his teeth, biting down on the stick. He feels the pill nudged behind his molar. Don’t miss. The scope of his rifle shows the door opening and he shifts lightly, wriggling his fingers shortly to get them to come back to life. None of them seem anxious, one of them reaching for the bar immediately. He recognizes his target not by the color of his shirt, but by his face. The same face that bears a smile and Wonjin--No, Hyacinth--wonders briefly if he’s smiling because he’s in a free country or because he brings contribution to the attempt to bring downfall of the Republic of Korea. 

“Twenty-five minutes left, Hyacinth, Wisteria on standby within ten metres proximity.”

Lim Jinhyeong sits by the window, turning on the luxurious flat screen television and watches the news. Wonjin sees a man relaxing. Hyacinth sees a window of opportunity. It’s not going to be a very long night. 

❝Target focused. Wisteria go active in nine, eight, seven, six..❞ He holds his breath, teeth biting down on the stick of the lollipop, body tense and still as he aims. He doesn’t feel anything when he squeezes the trigger, .50 BMG PTL bullet breaking through the glass of the window as if it were butter before nudging itself into the side of Lim Jinhyeong’s skull. His body slumps sideways, falls off his seat and falls to the floor, bleeding out against the expensive looking carpet.

The door breaks open, he sees, Wisteria taking advantage of the shock produced by Hyacinth’s assault, shooting the remaining two witnesses with a gun equiped with a silencer. 

❝Clear.❞ He says.

“Clear.” He hears Wisteria speak for the first time.

“Quick exit, janitors approaching in ten. Signing out. Good job, gentlemen.” The female voice speaks for a final time. His earpiece is useless the moment Messenger cuts the connection.

He sees Wisteria wave at him briefly from the room through the scope--standing amongst three dead bodies as if it were the business of the world, and even if he knows the other young man can’t see, he waves back as if it were the business of the world--it is.