Yu Ijin had been called many things throughout his short - but hectic - 19 years of life. And he wasn't talking about codenames like 001 or Mercenary Jin.
No, it was more in line with what other people who met him, even if they didn't know his name, called him.
Monster. Killer. Demon. That was mostly his enemies and a few reluctant allies.
Cold. Apathetic. That could be from anyone, really. Camp's training hadn't really been kind to anyone who showed emotions.
An emotionally stunted teenager - that had been Shin Jiyeh after Shin Yuna very clearly made a pass at him, and which went completely over his head - or so they thought.
It went hand-in-hand with 005's 'oblivious motherfucker' when he told her about the aforementioned situation.
Truth be told, Yu Ijin wasn't completely blind to the less than platonic feelings many of the females in his life held for him. Both Shin Yuna and Cha Seoha were less discreet than they thought, and Sophia kept calling him for no apparent reason.
005 had once just straight up asked if he wanted to have sex.
The reason Yu Ijin didn't respond to any of those feelings was more complicated. He had spent 10 years without his memory, and in an environment where emotions were a weakness your enemy would exploit.
And even now that he had recovered his memories and was in a relatively safe place - ignoring all the messes he somehow managed to get himself in the middle of - it was hard for him to understand if the burgeoning feelings he held for any of the girls were real, much less what exactly they were.
Mad Dog and Camp had trained the Numbers in much more than just how to kill. After all, infiltration could mean sneaking past surveillance and sniping a target--
Or it could also mean stumbling on them in a bar and showing a shy smile that got you talking, before ending up in their room, where you slipped poison in their drink or a knife under their ribs.
The instructors at Camp hadn't really cared how young or old the prospective Numbers were. The training would be used someday - and there were all kinds of freaks out there.
So, Ijin's biggest hold up wasn't so much if what he felt for Shin Yuna or Cha Seoha or Sophia was affection or love, or even if it was romantic or platonic, but if it were his feelings at all.
Or just Camp's programming.
It was a topic Ijin had dwelled upon many times during sleepless nights. What he did know, however, was that he felt something for Yuna, and seeing her trembling in the seat next to him, leaning against the plane window with her eyes closed, as if that would make the fact that their plane had been hijacked any less real, angered him.
But like he had been trained to do, Ijin squashed that anger and let the cold calm of his analytical mind take over.
They were in the middle compartment of the plane, above the wings. There were 2 hijackers in the compartment: the man near the rear partition, and the woman at the front one. The man was armed with a pistol, and the woman with an automatic rifle.
Those were just the ones he could see. To reliably hijack a plane the size of the one they were in would require at least a dozen people. At least one would be with the pilot - that is, if the pilot wasn't in on it too - but that still left about 10 hijackers Ijin couldn't see, which was a problem.
If the others were spread out around the plane, patrolling the other compartments like those two were, it would be easy to spot and identify them. But there was no guarantee that there weren't some still acting like scared tourists and keeping their cover. And in a plane with 235 passengers, the only ones Ijin could rule out were his classmates.
Well, at least not everything was bad. He had already asserted that Yuna wasn't the target, which made this both easier and more complicated. Easier because he wouldn't have to take drastic measures to protect her so soon, and complicated because it meant he still had no idea what the hijackers' aim was.
The plane was still flying, and he had managed to use Koh Sukjoo's satellite phone to contact SW and pass along what little information he had gleamed. By now, both the multinational corporation and the South Korean military would be moving heaven and earth to find them.
He wondered if it would be enough. This was clearly a coordinated action by a number of highly skilled individuals - the way the hijackers moved left little doubt in Ijin's mind that they were professionally trained soldiers. But both their destination and who was behind it were still unknown.
Even as the plane landed and they were forced to turn off and hide the satellite phone least some sort of scanner picked it up, both the questions went unanswered.
A quick peek out of Yuna's window showed a desolate airfield, surrounded by a mountain range. At Ijin's best guess, they were in one of the many archipelago within 4 hours flying distance of South Korea.
The amount of military vehicles and soldiers - easily in the hundreds - that surrounded the plane as soon as it landed only reinforced his initial notion that this was far bigger than SW and Shin Yuna.
"Why aren't they doing anything? Why isn't anyone boarding the plane?"
Sukjoo hissed under his breath, and Ijin could only discreetly shake his head. He didn't know.
"Look!"
Ijin wasn't sure who shouted, but there was a burst of noise as people scrambled to look out the windows, paling as they saw that, after the first trucks and jeeps full of soldiers, there were now vehicles carrying missiles into the airfield.
"Shut up! Be quiet if you don't wanna die!"
The man at the rear slammed his fist into the wall, and Ijin could hear others echoing his words in the other compartments of the plane - one closer, and the other fainter.
So the rest of the hijackers were positioned much the same as the ones in their compartment. Expected, but good to confirm nonetheless.
"W-What do you think they want?"
Yuna stuttered, eyes glued at the action outside until Ijin reached over her lap to close the blinds.
"Don't look. It won't do you any good. As for what they want- I don't know. We will find put eventually. But if I had to guess..."
"Yes?"
Sukjoo leaned over, acting scared to fool the hijackers. Ijin shrugged minutely.
"We are hostages. If it's because they want to trade us for something, or just as a deterrent, I don't know."
Yuna let out a squeaky sound at that, before visibly steeling herself and pinching her own arm, hard enough to leave an angry red welt. Ijin's lips curled up. Good. Panic wouldn't help anyone.
"How can you be so calm, Ijin?"
"You are always so calm, it's actually kind of enerving sometimes."
The SW former heiress and her bodyguard both spoke up at the same time, pinning Ijin in the middle with their stares. And to that, the former assassin and mercenary could only shrug. He couldn't exactly tell them, although, with all the trouble he seemed to constantly find himself in, it would probably come to light one day.
And sooner rather than later, depending on how their hijacking went.
Thankfully Sukjoo and Yuna dropped the subject. This was neither the place nor the time to try to put together the puzzle that was Yu Ijin.
...
Hours went by, and still there was no change in the situation. The plane doors stayed closed while the army outside mingled about, and the hijackers didn't say anything other than to threaten the passengers every now and again.
After one of his bathroom visits - surprisingly a real one this time - Sukjoo came back with the information that he had heard one of the hijackers talking about how they had made their demands of the South Korean government.
Ijin filed away that information and, much to the consternation of his two friends, closed his eyes to take a nap.
Sleep came easily to him. He had slept in much worse situations, with hellfire falling around him as enemies tried to root out the Numbers via sheer virtue of firepower. Sleeping in a comfortable seat was nothing, and he would need the energy later.
Of course, it was a light sleep. Even in the safety of his home, Ijin sometimes still woke up because his grandfather or sister turned about or mumbled in their sleep. He doubted he would ever experience a deep slumber in his life.
But his nap was enough that, when he woke up a couple of hours later, he was feeling pretty refreshed, in contrast with Yuna and Sukjoo, who had heavy bags under their eyes and very clearly hadn't slept a wink.
Staying on edge this long wasn't good, but it was also how normal people reacted to a stressful situation like this, so Ijin couldn't really blame them.
Opening the blind on the window, he saw that his internal clock had woken him up right on time. It was night outside, although you wouldn't guess it with the huge floodlights and all the movement. Apparently, the soldiers were changing shifts.
"You awake?"
Sukjoo asked by way of greeting. Yuna, on his other side, was looking more frazzled than he remembered seeing earlier. She should have taken a nap too.
"Were you waiting for night on purpose?"
Ijin looked at his watch.
"That too, but mainly because by now our country has probably figured out our location, and the odds are high that a rescue force is already close by."
Their eyes lit up at the prospect. It may not be the first time Yuna was kidnapped, but she had never experienced something of this scale, and it was still scary every time.
"Also, when things repeat enough, their guard tends to drop."
Ijin lifted up his hand, receiving a tired nod of permission from the female hijacker up-front. Terror already made people lose control of their bladders, being surrounded by an army meant he was far from the only one who needed to go to the bathroom since the hijacking.
Shuffling past Sukjoo, who was in the corridor seat, Ijin halted when Yuna's hand shot out to hold his sleeve. His last words had probably clued her in to the fact he was planning something.
The young woman opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Ijin gently smiled at her before freeing his sleeve and walking up down the aisle to the bathroom.
After pushing past the red curtain that separated the plane compartments, he spared a quick moment to glance around just in case anything had changed from his earlier visit.
It hadn't. The small space between the compartments had been cleared of anything that might be used as a weapon - the hijackers had been very through.
Unfortunately for them, they hadn't accounted for the fact that someone might not need a weapon. But then again, who could blame them for not taking into consideration that one of their hostages might be one of the best-trained killers in the world?
Jostling the bathroom door, Ijin acted as if it wouldn't open, making enough noise that the armed woman ducked under the curtain, scowling at him.
"What are you doing!?"
She poked him in the back with the muzzle of her rifle, and Ijin stumbled forward, his face turned away from her, and looking, for all intents and purposes, like a terrified hostage.
"T-The bathroom door won't open."
"Tch! Get out of the way."
Pushing him aside, the hijacker let go of her rifle with her left hand, and reached for the door. That was her first mistake.
The second was showing her back to Ijin, believing him to be just a normal student who was unlucky enough to be in the plane that they took.
Those were her only two mistakes, but they were enough. Just as she effortlessly managed to pop open the bathroom door, a body pressed into her side, trapping her arm and the rifle she was holding between them, while a strong hand grabbed the back of her head, and another went around the front and covered her mouth.
She hadn't even registered the touches yet when said hands jerked in opposite directions, and her head turned nearly 180 degrees with an audible crack.
Her body slumped down soundlessly, and Ijin let go of one hand to grab the rifle before it could fall to the ground and make any noise. Without a change of expression, he dragged both body and weapon into the bathroom and closed the door.
The rifle was too big for him to carry it discreetly, and a quick frisk revealed that the female hijacker wasn't carrying any other weapons. Pity. He would have liked a knife.
Oh, well. There was still another chance at the back.
Ijin glanced down at the body, expressionless. One thing Camp had been good at beating out of them had been useless emotions such as mercy or guilt.
Both when he was 001, and then later as Mercenary Jin, Ijin had killed plenty of people who didn't deserve to die without showing an ounce of remorse. And the hijacker most definitely wasn't in that category.
The only thing that might have made him hesitate were the possible repercussions of how his classmates would react to seeing the true Yu Ijin. But in the end, he decided that the odds of him being able to keep his cover, if you wanted to call it that, of being just a normal student were minimal. Might as well break it on his own terms.
Maybe he would tell them the same story he told his family: that after the plane his family was in crashed all those years ago, he became a mercenary. It wasn't the whole truth, and both his grandfather and sister knew it, but it would probably be enough.
If it wasn't... Well, he would burn that bridge when he got there.
Stepping out of the bathroom and making sure the door stayed closed, he ducked back under the red curtain and started walking towards the rear of the compartment as if nothing was wrong.
On the way, he caught Sukjoo's gaze, whose's eyes widened when Ijin just kept walking past them. And that the female hijacker wasn't in sight anymore.
By then Ijin was already striding past them, and it was too late for the other SW bodyguard to do anything. Acting up now might compromise whatever Ijin was scheming.
The former Number didn't slow down one bit as he stepped past the similar red curtains, then stepped to the side so he was directly behind the other corridor. Shaking the bathroom door provoked much the same reaction as it had the first time.
"What are you doing over there?"
The square-jawed male hijacker pointed his pistol at Ijin and entered the partition.
"The bathroom door won't open."
And the silver-haired bodyguard, as an internal joke, gave him the exact same answer he had given to the woman.
"What kind of nonsense is that?"
Unfortunately, the man wasn't so easily fooled. He frowned at Ijin, a vein popping in his forehead, before he took a good look at the teen. His frown intensified.
"And weren't you in the other aisle? Why are you here-"
That was as far as he got before Ijin took a step forward and grabbed the hand holding the pistol. His other hand gripped the barrel of the weapon itself, and he twisted, forcing the hijacker to either let go or have his wrist broken.
Self-preservation took over, and the man released his hold on the weapon, which Ijin was only too eager to grab and smash across his temple.
Again, he grabbed the body before it could make any noise, and dragged the unconscious man to the bathroom, closing the door behind them.
A quick pat down rewarded Ijin with a karambit knife, which hr hid in his left sleeve. It wasn't the most comfortable position, and anyone who didn't have years of practice would slit their own wrist faster than you could say 'stupid', but he had a feeling it wouldn't stay there very long.
Now, standing over the knocked-out hijacker, Ijin considered what to do. Wake him up and try to make him talk?
No, too big of a chance of him yelling for help. He would die if he did, of course, but it would also make things a hundred times more difficult. Ijin had to keep this in the down-low as long as possible.
Which only left one other option, really.
CRACK!
That was the sound of Ijin pressing his foot on the back of the hijacker's neck, grabbing his forehead with both hands, and pulling. The end result didn't scream DEAD! as much as the woman's owl-like neck did, but it was still very much the case.
No need for mercy against those sorts. And Ijin didn't want to take the chance that the man would wake up too soon. This way he wouldn't wake up, period.
-----------------------
Bzzt!
At the same time, on a small outcrop of one of the mountains surrounding the airfield, an earpiece clicked.
"What's your situation over there?"
016 adjusted the scope of his sniper rifle, locking in on the cockpit, where the pilot was trussed up like a turkey and knocked out cold, while the co-pilot and hijacker lit up yet another cigarette.
Bzzt!
"It's still quiet here, so thankfully we might not be too late."
Bzzt!
"Tsk! I don't know why we are even here at all.
This is 001 we are talkin' about. He can get out of this on his own."
Bzzt!
"The plane he's in is surrounded by nearly 600 Rajapuran soldiers, 004."
Bzzt!
"And? He ain't even one of us anymore. He aban- left the Numbers. 001 can save his own ass if he wants, it ain't our problem no more."
Bzzt!
"004 you selfish--!"
Bzzt!
"Enough."
One word from 002 cut 004 and 005's budding argument, and 016 smirked. For a group that was supposedly disbanded, the Numbers sure were coming together a lot lately. And most of the time it had something to do with 001.
Bzzt!
"Hold. Something's changed with the Korean troops."
032's voice came over the earpiece, and 016 stilled. He had been assigned to keep overwatch over the plane and hostages, so he had no eyes on the team the South Korean government had dispatched.
Bzzt!
"Report, 032."
Bzzt!
"Situation contained. They came across a patrol, but took care of it. Huh. They are surprisingly skilled."
Bzzt!
"They are special forces, no? Even if Korea isn't hugely renowned, spec ops is still spec ops no matter where you are. A ragtag bunch bunch like that militia General Tabik put together can't compare."
Bzzt!
"They just needed to get one shot out to make this a huge mess. Be thankful the Koreans didn't let them, but don't count on being so lucky next time. 006, what's your status?"
002's cold voice reignited the tension, and 016 remembered the reason they had been in Rajapura at all to begin with - and it wasn't 001.
Bzzt!
"On final approach of the palace, 002. I haven't got eyes on target, but I can confirm three of her known associates."
There was a pregnant pause before the radio clicked again, and 016'a fingers clenched his sniper rifle tightly.
Bzzt!
"As it is, I consider it highly likely that 003 is here."
-----------------------
"Ijin!"
Yuna whisper-yelled when her silver-haired friend squeezed past Sukjoo and sat down between them.
"Here."
Her eyes widened when she saw him hand over a pistol to Sukjoo. Her bodyguard wasn't much better.
"Where did you get this!? What did you do!?"
Ijin's expression was cool as ice. In fact, his eyes seemed to glint in the artificial light of the plane.
It scared Yuna a little.
"You know how to use it, Sukjoo?"
"I- Yes, I was trained when we where over in America."
"Good. I have disabled the two hijackers in the compartment, but there are still more in the other compartments, and some may still be posing as hostages."
The two stared at him like he was speaking Greek.
"Disabled them? How? And what does that even mean!?"
"Ijin, what did you do?"
The former assassin and mercenary looked at Sukjoo, then Yuna. This was going to be harder than he thought. He didn't want to lose the friendship he had with Sukjoo, nor whatever it was he shared with Yuna.
Feelings were complicated.
He had to do what needed to be done. Once they were all safe and away from here, he could consider how to repair what he would inevitably break, and if that was even possible.
"Both of you once asked who I was before I came back to Korea. I... I can't tell you that yet. We don't have the time. But this..."
Ijin wetted his lips.
"...This is what I did. What I was."
That wasn't nearly enough of an explanation, of course. But Ijin pressed on before they could complain.
"Keep your head down, Yuna. Sukjoo, I'll move on to the rear compartment. If there are any hijackers still hidden here, my move and the absence of their compatriots are likely to spur them into action. Should that happen, subdue them as quickly, efficiently, and quietly as possible, in that order. Use lethal force if necessary. Your priority is protecting Yuna, followed by our classmates, and then the rest of the passengers."
"Wh- No! Ijin-"
"Ijin-"
They started to object, but he had already gotten up. With a much more relaxed and natural demeanor, Ijin strolled towards the rear of the plane. Hopefully, his brazen display would prompt any 'sleeper' hijackers to act.
Well, he didn't get shot in back until he ducked under the curtains for the 5th time in as many minutes, so he counted that as a victory. The middle compartment was likely clean.
Of course, there could still be an enemy hiding, but he doubted it. The hijackers were in familiar territory, surrounded by hundreds of heavily armed allies. There was no reason for any of them to be this patient if they thought something was wrong.
Which meant, there probably were more enemies in the rear compartment. They had likely considered 2 men to be enough for the middle one since it lacked doors - apart from the emergency ones - and the passengers there were mostly students.
Opening the curtains to the rear compartment just a tad with his fingers, Ijin took quick stock of the situation.
The terrified passengers were the same, but there were 3 hijackers he could see this time around.
Scratch that, 4. He doubted one of the hostages would be smoking so brazenly as the man in one of the middle rows.
Of the 3 he could see clearly, 2 were armed with pistols, and the other with an automatic weapon. The problem was, the later was at the far back of the plane. Getting to him without him spraying down dozens of hostages would be troublesome.
Troublesome, but not impossible.
The first step was to discreetly get rid of the hijacker closest to him. And that was easily solvable by stomping his foot and making a loud noise.
"What was that?"
"Dunno. Probably someone dropped something."
"It came from the partition."
"Go check it out if ya are so sure then. Damn jumpy rookies."
The first voice grumbled and cursed the second quietly, and Ijin slid back. The curtain would only hide him for a few seconds, but it would be enough.
A man pushed open the red curtain. With his pistol hand. He was lucky he wasn't a Camp recruit. Mad Dog would have skinned him alive for a screw-up like that. And he was being literal.
"There ain't nothing here."
The man took two steps inside the partition, letting the curtain fall behind him, and turned his head to the right, then to the left. Finding nothing, he grumbled and turned around.
He caught sight of Ijin about the same time the silver-haired teen punched him in the throat with two fingers curled and jotting out.
That would have been enough to kill him. Ijin felt his trachea crunching beneath his knuckles.
But it wouldn't have been a quick or silent death. So Ijin kicked the inside of his knees, grabbed the pistol with his left hand, and looped his right arm around the man's neck. A simple lift-and-twist later, and another hijacker had met their end with a shredded spinal chord.
This time, Ijin didn't bother hiding the body. He just shoved it aside so it wouldn't be immediately in view, then picked up the pistol, sticking it behind his back. Not ideal, but what better option did he have?
Ijin paused. Actually, there might be a better option. The hijackers obviously hadn't gone through the metal detectors at the airport with their weapons, but they got the guns inside somehow. Most likely an accomplices in the crew and airport staff, but once in the plane, they still needed to hide their weapons somehow until they were in the air, and just sticking them in their pants or shirts made for very noticeable bulges.
"Bingo."
A quick search of the body revealed a waist holster, and Ijin berated himself internally for not being more through with the first hijackers. The woman was in a stewardess uniform and obviously hadn't been hiding the assault rifle anywhere, but the man definitely had a holster too.
"What the hell's taking that fucker so long?"
Any more musings he might have were cut short by the grumblings of another enemy and the sounds of steps getting closer. Ijin barely had time to get up before another hijacker, the second pistol wielder, pushed open the curtains.
"What the fuck?"
The man blinked twice, staring at the scene in front of him. His companion, laid out face up on the floor, eyes glassy, and a line of drool and spit falling from his mouth from when he had been choking to death. The broken neck wasn't that obvious, but it didn't need to be for the man to know something was very wrong.
Unfortunately for him, he took too long to react. A hand shot out from the side, and, having completely missed Ijin from his shock of seeing his fellow hijacker dead, the man was unable to react as it grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward, and away from the partly open curtain.
"Wh-"
The first syllable was as far as he got before Ijin kicked his feet from under him and twisted his arm around his back. A quick jerk and his wrist snapped, letting the pistol fall.
He would have screamed if Ijin didn't have his head pressed against the floor. And when the silver-haired teen spun him around so he was now laying with his back on the ground, ruined wrist still on hold, a knife to his throat prevented him from so much as breathing too deeply, much less screaming.
"Quiet."
Ijin's amber eyes were cold, and his karambit drew a line of blood when the hijacker twitched.
"You will answer my questions. You won't scream. You won't raise your voice. You won't attempt to call for help in any way. Do any of that, and you will die. Are we clear? Blink if so."
The man blinked, repeatedly and desperately. It didn't even register in his mind how young Ijin was. He could see death in his gaze.
"Good. I'm going to let you speak now, only to answer my questions. What happened to your friend will seen kind in comparison with what I will do to you if you don't. Understood?"
The man blinked again, then muttered a stuttering 'y-yes' when Ijin pulled back the karambit. The knife was still too close to his neck for his comfort.
"How many of you are there in this compartment?"
"F-Four. Just four."
"And in the plane?"
"E-Eleven. It was supposed to be twelve, but one guy got pinched in Korea."
"How are they distributed?"
"Four in the back, two in the middle with the students, then four more in the front."
Ijin narrowed his eyes and pressed the blade closer, drawing blood a second time. Was the man just that scared, or did he think Ijin was stupid?
"A-And the co-pilot! He's one of ours! That's all, I swear!"
The teen glared at the hijacker for a few moments, parsing the truth from his words, before pulling back the knife.
Just as the man let out a sigh of relief, his eyes shot open wide again as Ijin covered his mouth. The hand he had he had holding the hijacker's broken wrist clenched tighter and twisted, causing waves of agonizing pain and muffled cries that only Ijin's hand over his mouth prevented from echoing around the entire plane.
In situations like this, you couldn't give your enemy time to think, and pain was a great way to keep them on their toes and forget that they had an entire army surrounding the plane.
"You are going to call your friend here. You are going to say someone in the other compartment had a seizure and they need help keeping an eye on the rest. Those will be your exact words."
Hand still over his mouth, Ijin dragged the man up by his broken wrist, and pressed him against the wall until he blinked frantically to show he understood.
"In Korean. Say anything else or in another language, and you die."
The hand on his wrist let go, to the man's immense relief, although it was short-lived when the karambit returned.
"Do it."
The man nodded fearfully and stuck his head out the curtain, acutely aware of the pressure of the karambit on his nape.
"H-Hey! Someone in the other compartment is having a seizure! We need help keeping an eye on the rest!"
Ijin then pulled him back. He thought he saw the eyes of a woman in the first row widening, but he put that aside in favor of slashing the hijacker's neck on both sides.
He definitely saw the betrayal in the man's eyes, although he wasn't sure why. Even in his fear-addled mind, the hijacker couldn't have suspected this ended any other way.
Blood splashed, covering Ijin's hands and sleeves, and he ignored it. Letting the body drop, he patiently waited for the next hijacker to come through.
It was the smoker, cursing in his native language. Ijin slashed his throat open and kicked him in the chest.
His cigarette flying out of his mouth, the man stumbled back from both the surprise of getting his throat cut - the pain hadn't quite settled in - and the kick itself.
Ijin was right behind him, his arm arching back, fingers deftly spinning the karambit so he was holding it by the slick blade, then slingshotting forward to throw the knife.
All of that happened in less than a second, giving the hijacker with the assault rifle in the back no time to react at all.
Ijin had thrown the blade relying entirely on his mental image of the plane, and trusting that the hijacker was still in the same position as when he peeked in. If he had moved, it would have led to a much different, much more tragic set of events.
As it was, the man had stayed in the same spot, and Ijin was leaping through the aisle towards him before the knife had even completed its journey.
"Argh!"
The karambit curved through the air to bury itself in the hijacker's arm, and then Ijin was on top of him, a kick to the gut causing him to double over, and the knee to the face that followed almost knocking him out of commission.
Not that it would have mattered if it had, because the next second Ijin had pulled out the karambit and stabbed it as deep as it went into the back of his neck. Then he jerked it out and repeated the action three more times, confirming the kill.
"Aaahhhhh!"
That was when the screaming started, as the people closest to the two dying men scrambled over the seats to get away, and everybody else just went along with the panic.
"Quiet!"
Somehow, Ijin's growl cut through all of the noise and silenced them. Whereabouts 90 passengers in the rear compartment shut up and stared fearfully at the teenager who still had blood dripping from his hands.
"There are still hijackers in the other compartments, and an army outside. Stay quiet, keep your heads down, and most of all, don't attract their attention."
One thing Ijin had learned in the escort and rescue missions he took was that oftentimes, less was more. Give the package - because that's what the hostages were right now - too much information, and they tried to argue.
Say only the bare minimum to keep them compliant, use a firm tone of voice, and most of all, don't give them options. That was the way. Almost like ordering a dog.
Picking up the rifle, Ijin went back to the smoker, and swiftly searched his pockets, this time coming out with a military knife. It was heavier and bigger than the karambit, and, and while the later was more suited for extremely close quarters combat like the plane, it was still a fine addition which he strapped to the holster.
Stepping over the body and walking down the corridor, passengers shirking away from him, Ijin picked up the remaining pistol - he wasn't letting some hot-headed civilian get their hands on it - and went back to the middle compartment.
"Ah- Ijin!"
And almost headbutted Sukjoo. The other SW bodyguard had the pistol Ijin gave him raised, and recognized his friend just in time to stop himself from pulling the trigger.
"Ijin! Are you okay? There was screaming..."
He trailed off as his gaze took in the blood staining Ijin's shirt, the rifle slung over his shoulder, the pistols strapped to his waist, and the bloody knife in his hands.
And then the bodies on the floor. He could only see two of them, but the sight of one of the hijackers with his throat torn open on both sides almost had him throwing up his last airplane meal. It was only his SW training that allowed him to keep it down. Barely.
"Ijin-"
"There will be more, Sukjoo. Now, we need to clear the rest of the plane. There should be 4 more in the first compartment, plus one in the cockpit."
In a way, it was good Sukjoo had found him before he entered the middle compartment. Easier to explain without everyone else staring agog at him.
"I- Y-Yes. Okay. Are you sure we can take them?"
Apropos to nothing, Sukjoo recovered fast. Despite his young age, he had real life experience as a bodyguard, including being stabbed. While blood and dead bodies weren't something he was used to seeing, ot also wasn't an unknown sight.
"We can. But we need to move fast, before they realize something is going on, if they haven't already."
"Okay. Okay. What's the plan?"
"Without knowing their exact positions, it's hard to come up with one. But we need to take them down quietly if we can. Screams may not be heard outside, but gunshots definitely will."
Sukjoo nodded mutely. Then he stopped aside and let Ijin pass.
The silence was deafening. Everyone in the middle compartment had noticed the absence of the two hijackers, and the screams later, plus Sukjoo getting up suddenly and pulling out a pistol had shocked them.
But the sight of Ijin, armed to the teeth and white button shirt stained red? It stunned them silly.
Ijin used that. He walked down the compartment in confident strides, Sukjoo two steps behind him.
His gaze swept over his classmates and the other passengers. Park Yeongchan, Lee Jaehyung, and Ju Hyeokjin all looked like they couldn't decide where to look first: the guns, the blood, or his face.
The last face Ijin searched for was Yuna's. Her eyes were wide like the rest of the passengers, and she seemed to be looking at him for the first time in her life.
"Everyone, please stay seated. Ijin and I are trained for situations like this..."
It was a bare-faced lie, but Ijin was grateful for Sukjoo taking control of the compartment before it could explode into noise. That was always the major problem when dealing with civilians. They couldn't keep their mouths shut for their lives.
"...Stay quiet and everything will be alright."
Another lie, most likely. Or maybe he really did belive that.
No, a quick glance at his fellow bodyguard told Ijin that Sukjoo still very much feared the outcome of today.
"Ijin, are you hurt?"
When they passed by their row, Yuna had moved to the corridor seat and grabbed Ijin's hand, uncaring for the blood that stained her palms. He looked down to her and smiled.
"None of it is mine. Now, please do as Sukjoo says, Yuna. We'll be back soon."
Then he was moving again. There was no time to chat.
Once they reached the partition between the middle and front compartments of the plane, Ijin shrugged off the rifle and set it against the wall. It would be worse than a pistol in the cramped corridors of the plane. He had just wanted it out of reach of anyone else.
A quick peek beyond the curtain revealed 4 restless hijackers-- And Ijin pulled back quickly before one of them spotted him. He leaned over to Sukjoo and whispered in his ear.
"Four hostiles, two in each corridor. They are spooked. Luckily, they seem to be coming this way."
"Luckily?"
"Yes. With how wary they are, if even just one of them stayed near the cockpit, I would have no option but to take a shot. With all of them this close, there is a chance of taking them down somewhat quietly."
Sukjoo decided to ignore how easily Ijin brought up firing a gun in a full plane.
"Two for each of us. What's the plan?"
"We wait for them to get closer, then burst out of here. And it's 3 for me and 1 for you."
Sukjoo frowned.
"Ijin-"
"Sukjoo, listen. I've been in situations like this before. You are not my subordinate, I can't order you. But please trust me to know what to do, and to do what I need."
For the first time since their plane was hijacked, Sukjoo saw something other than clinical coldness in Ijin's gaze. His hesitation suddenly vanished.
"Okay. I'll follow your lead."
"Good, because here they come. Take them to the ground, and hit them with everything you have. Don't hold back. They are soldiers, and highly skilled ones on top of that."
Sukjoo nodded. Everything that happened today had been mind-blowing. But this, the fight, the action? This was familiar to him. Setting his gun down on the ground so it couldn't be used against him later, he flexed his legs in preparation to tackle the first hijacker he saw. Ijin said he would take care of the second d one, and he trusted him.
"Now!"
Ijin's sudden roar startled Sukjoo somewhat, but all it did was spur him into action. To the hijackers who were coming down the aisles, on the other hand? It only added to their confusion, which gave the two teens a precious half-second of headstart.
Sukjoo crashed into the abdomen of a hijacker, one hand pushing his gun down and away, while the other hooked behind his legs in a practiced wrestling move, and threw him to the ground, with Sukjoo on top of him, who wasted no time elbowing the man on the chest and twisting his wrist so he dropped the gun.
Focused on his own opponent as he was, Sukjoo didn't see or hear the second hijacker, who had been right behind the one he was fighting, going down with a knife embedded in his neck.
Nor did he pay attention to Ijin, who had burst out the other corridor just a half-second after Sukjoo, taking advantage of the fact the hijackers in his aisle had turned because of the commotion, and slicing at their wrists with his karambit.
"Ah!"
"Gah!"
Twin screams of pain were followed by the dull thuds of guns dropping to the ground, just a moment before Ijin hooked a leg behind one of the hijackers' and took them both down, like a chain of dominos.
Once on the ground, there was little the men could do against Ijin. In the tangle of limbs, the silver-haired teen only had to deflect one measly punch before the two hijackers were choking in their own blood.
Getting up and vaulting over a terrified family of three to the other corridor, Ijin saw Sukjoo raining elbows and punches on the face of the single living hijacker of the compartment, who could just barely put up a defense.
Deciding to spare his friend from getting covered in blood like him, Ijin stored away the karambit, then grabbed the hijacker in a chokehold.
His eyes locked with Sukjoo's as he flexed his strong arms and snapped the man's neck like a twig.
Sukjoo winced, and flinched away when Ijin let the body drop. But he quickly shook it off, not saying a word as Ijin plucked his military blade from the other body with a disgusting squelch.
Just as the passengers, predictably, started screaming, Ijin gestured with his head towards the front of the plane.
"I'll take care of the cockpit. Try to calm them down, and put away the weapons."
Sukjoo nodded subdued, and Ijin advanced through the first class seats towards the cockpit. Once there, he slammed his fist on the door a few times.
"#$@Sj*×>KH#$!"
An annoyed voice in a language Ijin didn't recognize yelled back, muffled through the thick doors of the cockpit. Predictably, it was about all the screaming.
When Ijin didn't say anything back and instead kept hammering on the door, the voice got closer. Secure in the fact that they were in friendly ground, the hijacker and former co-pilot never stopped to consider why pilots were taught that, in case of a terrorist attack, you never opened the cockpit.
No sooner than he opened the door, Ijin's fist broke his nose, and his other hand grabbed the man by the lapel, slamming his head on the wall.
Once he was sure the man was unconscious, Ijin crouched and looked inside the cockpit. He didn't want to risk being seen by anyone outside. Luckily, the soldiers surrounding the plane showed no signs of having noticed anything wrong.
The pilot was, after a quick check, thankfully still alive, although unconscious and sporting a nasty bruised lip. Ijin untied him, but didn't wake him up for now.
Instead, he used the same ropes to tie the co-pilot. This hijacker would be more useful alive than not.
That done, Ijin stepped back, leaving the cockpit door only a sliver open. He looked for Sukjoo, who had thankfully managed to mostly calm down the passengers, and returned a tight nod.
While they had passed a rough spot, the worst was yet to come. They may have regained control of the plane, but with little fuel and an army surrounding them, the odds weren't good they could take off and return home, even when the pilot woke up. They needed to wait for the rescue team South Korea had certainly sent, although Ijin wasn't sure how they would get through the opposition.
Deliberating for a few seconds, Ijin opened the door to one of the closets where the crew kept their personal stuff-- And blinked when he found himself looking at 4 tied up and gagged stewardesses.
Crouching in front of them, he quickly cut off their binds and took off the gags. They flinched away from his blood-soaked hands, but let him do it.
"T-Thank you."
The oldest and most senior of them thanked him, and Ijin gave her a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Don't thank me yet. I'll need your help."
"To do w-what?"
"First, control the passengers. We are still not out of the fire. And secondly, to show me how to work the in-plane comms."
The woman blinked. Then she got up on trembling knees and pulled a phone out of its station, showing him the simple 3-digit code to stop just any random kid from grabbing it and annoying the whole plane.
"There. Ah... Who are you?"
Ijin smiled again. It was no warmer than the first one.
"Attention, all passengers. Please, stay calm and remain seated. I repeat, stay calm and remain seated. The terrorists within the plane have been neutralized, but the plane is still surrounded, as you just need to look out and see. Keep acting as you've been. We don't want to alert them."
It wasn't exactly the sort of calming announcement the passengers wanted to hear, but it did work. Anyone who thought of getting up gave up on the idea, and if a few more fearful glances were thrown outside of the plane, no one noticed. Thank god for thick windows making it hard to see anything from the outside.
"As of now, the South Korean government has been contacted, and is working on getting us out of here. You simply need to stay calm and wait, and you will all go home."
The first half was guess-work on Ijin's part, and the last just a straight up lie. He had no idea how to get them to safety.
Discounting the now deceased hijackers, there were 225 souls aboard the plane. Of them, only Ijin and Sukjoo could fight, and only the former would have a chance in a firefight.
'What to do...'
-----------------------
006 was crawling through the undergrowth, trying to get closer to Rajapura's presidential palace. 018 was with him, while 005 and 008 waited further back as back-up, but it wasn't easy.
Just earlier today, General Tabik Srendra had overthrow the legitimate government in a coup. The former president had been deposed, tried, and executed within 2 hours.
The military was under General Tabik's command, but spread through the archipelago to quench any dissent, which was a bit of a silver lining.
However, conscripted militia patrolled the streets of the capital, and while they were untrained, their sheer numbers made sneaking past them a near impossible task.
Unless you were the Numbers, of course, in which case it was just harder than normal, but still ended up with a team of highly trained assassins in the gardens of the palace.
From there, it was another story entirely. Tabik had predictably concentrated his forces around and inside the palace, to protect himself from retaliation, which was a smart move, but also a pain in 006's ass.
Then the man had the genius idea of hijacking a plane to use the passengers as hostages preventing foreign interference, which wasn't bad, but it just had to be the plane 001 was in.
Really, the universe wouldn't let 006's former leader settle down and live in piece. It was like a giant hand was picking him up and dropping him where trouble was every time it got bored.
Well, in this case, it was trouble for Tabik. Having 001 on his island was already bad. Having 001 and the Numbers, although they were there for entirely different reasons?
That was just back luck.
Now, if only Tabik hadn't hired 003 to help in his coup, then 006 would have already written the man off. Although, if 003 hadn't been here, neither would the Numbers, so some good, some bad. It probably balanced out.
Bzzt!
"016 here."
Bzzt!
"Everyone is listening. Any updates on the plane?"
Bzzt!
"Well... What can I say other than 001 is 001?"
Bzzt!
"What did that bastard do now?"
Even 006 could feel 004's slightlyanticipatoryexpectation, and he definitely heard 016's smirk over the earpiece.
Bzzt!
"I saw him briefly as he took down the co-pilot, and from how much blood he had on him, I would wager he cleaned up the rest of the terrorists too."
Bzzt!
"Ha! That's 001 for you!"
006 would have joined in on the excited whispers from 032 if he didn't have to keep silent. Still, he had no compulsions to hide the curling of his lips. Good old 001.
Bzzt!
"I would have killed him if he couldn't do even that. 016, 032, any way of getting a message to him?"
Bzzt!
"Negative, 002. Cells are jammed, and satellite phones will get picked up by their radar. Anything that isn't a closed circuit like our comms will light up like a Christmas tree."
Bzzt!
"Work on options. Meanwhile, I want 005 and 008 back at the airfield in case we have to storm it."
Bzzt!
"Are we giving up on 003 to save that fucker's ass!?"
006 shook his head and moved a hand to his radio, but 018 beat him to the punch.
Bzzt!
"Shut up, 004. 002 didn't pull me and 006 back."
Bzzt!
"And even if he had, the mission isn't more important than a comrade, Number or not. Or have you forgotten Somalia? Remember how Mad Dog punished 001 for coming back for you?"
The radios went silent for a few minutes following 006's words. Then they clicked one last time.
Bzzt!
"Tch!"
006 smirked.
---------------------
Unaware of his brothers-in-arms outside working on a plan to get to him, 001, or Yu Ijin as his friends knew him, was standing in the middle compartment, positioned so he couldn't be seen from outside.
He had used the lavatory to wash his hands clean of most of the blood, but what was stuck on his sleeves was already hardening in a dark brown crust, and wasn't coming off.
With both of his stolen knives on his belt, as well as two pistols, one on his waist, and another in a chest strap he had fashioned from two holsters, Ijin cut an impressive figure, which was maybe why his classmates weren't bombarding him with questions yet.
It wouldn't last long. He had promised them, especially Koh Sukjoo and Shin Yuna, answers, and now that they had a brief respite, they wanted them.
Running his hand through his hair, he thought of what to say. Probably best just to come out with his heavily redacted version of the truth.
"When I was 9 years old..."