The Long Drive Down
916 Words
[PARK SEO-YEON]
The sedan tore down the empty highway heading toward the coast. The city lights of Seoul faded behind us, replaced by the crushing darkness of the industrial outskirts.
It was quiet inside the car, save for the hum of the engine and the rush of wind.
My hands were shaking.
I looked down at them in my lap. They were still the hands of a CEO—manicured, soft. But ten minutes ago, they had grabbed a man’s tie and threatened to destroy him.
The adrenaline from the club was crashing hard, leaving me feeling hollowed out and vibrating with nervous energy.
I looked sideways at Jin-Woo. He was driving with one hand on the wheel, his profile carved from granite against the passing streetlights. The stolen bottle of Dom Pérignon was wedged between his seat and the center console like a trophy.
He seemed completely unaffected. To him, threatening a man in a nightclub was just a Tuesday.
"You okay, Boss?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the road. His voice was low, grounding.
"I..." I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "I've never done anything like that. I destroy people in boardrooms. With lawyers. Not with..."
"Not with your own hands," he finished.
"Yes."
He reached over with his free hand. He didn't pat my hand or offer comfort. He grabbed my wrist, his thumb pressing hard into my pulse point.
His skin was rough, calloused, and incredibly hot against my chilled skin.
"Your heart rate is 140," he stated calmly. "You're coming down from a combat high. Breathe. In for four, hold for four, out for four."
I tried to pull my wrist away. He held it fast.
"Breathe, Seo-Yeon."
It was the first time he’d used my name without sarcasm.
I obeyed. I breathed. Slowly, under the pressure of his thumb, my racing heart began to slow to match his steady rhythm.
"You did good back there," he said, finally releasing my wrist. The absence of his touch left my skin tingling. "You have the instinct. Most civilians freeze. You stepped up."
A flush of pride—hot and shameful—spread through my chest. Velvet preened inside me.
"Where are we going?" I asked, my voice steadier now.
"Incheon docks. Warehouse 4B. That’s where Lee was supposed to drop the hardware."
He checked the rearview mirror, his eyes hardening.
"We're going to deliver it for him."
[KANG JIN-WOO]
The air at the docks smelled of salt, diesel fumes, and rust. It was the smell of dead ends.
I parked the sedan behind a stack of rusted shipping containers, half a mile from Warehouse 4B. I killed the lights.
"Stay here," I said, unbuckling my seatbelt and checking the knife at my back. "Lock the doors. If anyone other than me tries to open them, lay on the horn and don't stop."
Seo-Yeon was already unbuckling her own seatbelt. In the dim light, her eyes looked huge, ringed with smudged eyeliner. The leather jacket was too big for her, making her look fragile.
"No," she said. Her voice trembled slightly, but the steel was back in it. "I'm not sitting in the dark waiting. I'm coming."
I turned to face her fully. "This isn't a club, Princess. There are no bouncers here. No witnesses. The people meeting Lee aren't corporate thieves. They're cleaners. If things go bad, they won't threaten you with a lawsuit. They’ll put you in the water."
She didn't shrink back. She leaned forward, into my space.
"You said I have the instinct. Well, my instinct says I need to see the face of the person who tried to break into my home."
She was stubborn. Reckless. And frustratingly brave. It was going to get her killed one day.
But right now, I didn't have time to argue. Leaving her alone in the car might be just as dangerous if they had spotters.
"Fine." I reached into the glove box and pulled out a heavy-duty tactical flashlight made of aircraft-grade aluminum. I shoved it into her hands. It was heavy.
"It has a strobe function. If someone runs up on you, blind them, then smash the bezel into their teeth. Hard. Do you understand?"
She gripped the cold metal like it was Excalibur. "Yes."
"Stay on my six. Step where I step. Do not make a sound."
We slipped out of the car into the cold sea air.
The warehouse district was a maze of shadows and towering metal containers. It was painfully quiet. No seagulls. No crashing waves. Just the distant hum of a generator.
It was too quiet.
We moved through the shadows, my body tense, every sense dialed up to eleven. I could hear Seo-Yeon’s breathing behind me—shallow, fast, but controlled.
We reached the corner of Warehouse 4B. A large corrugated metal building sitting in an open lot near the water's edge.
A single lightbulb buzzed over a side door.
"Wait here," I signaled to her, pressing her back against the cold metal of a container.
I moved to the edge and peered around.
The lot was empty. No cars. No people. Just the warehouse door, slightly ajar.
A classic kill box.
My instincts screamed at me to turn around, put Seo-Yeon back in the car, and drive back to Seoul at 200kph.
Instead, I drew the ceramic knife.
"Change of plan," I whispered over my shoulder, though she was right next to me. "We don't knock. We kick the door in."
- Writer
