Khoder nodded. “Bro,” he said, the single word telling JD that the hacked-together piece of counter-surveillance tech was working properly.
“Who’s Soo-hyun?” JD asked.
“Needed to be someone cool,” Khoder said, “so I went with Chow Yun-fat, in his prime.”
“Now who are you calling fat?” Soo-hyun said with a smirk.
JD took the tight bundle of latex gloves from his bag, gave a pair each to Soo-hyun and Khoder, then pulled his own pair on. “Alright, let’s go.”
JD pushed forward, taking the lead, as though this one piece of initiative would give him control over the rest of the job, and stop Soo-hyun’s urges from sending them violently off course. They walked around the block to the target building and climbed three cement steps to the entrance—a glass-and-metal door attached to an old-style intercom and buzzer system.
“Gonna pick the lock, bro?”
“Nope,” JD said, “just a little social engineering.”
He approached the intercom and hit a button at random—only checking that he wasn’t accidentally buzzing their target. Excuse me, sir, sorry to bother you. Mind letting us upstairs so we can steal your van and infiltrate your place of work? He tried four apartments before someone answered.
“What?” A man’s voice, noise in the background like children playing, TV blaring loud. Perfect.
“Plumber. Need to get up to 4A, but nobody’s responding.”
“Sorry, I can’t let you in.”
Soo-hyun’s eyebrows peered up over the rim of their sunglasses, amused.
“I understand, of course,” JD said quickly, before the man could hang up. “Maybe you could just run upstairs and knock on his door for me?”
There was a long pause, then a raucous buzz as the door unlocked.
“Thank you, sir,” JD said as he yanked the door open, but the impatient father had already signed off.
“Social engineering,” Soo-hyun said. “Next time I’ll engineer a broken window.” They stole ahead, taking the stairs two at a time, clinks and clanks emanating from their backpack with every step.
Trash had accrued on the stairwell and the landings, food rubbish mostly, rustling with cockroaches and other wildlife. Graffiti marked the walls—children’s crayon scribbles, inelegant spray-painted tags, and municipal markings from the last time city health came through and condemned an apartment or cleared out a dead body.
On the fourth-floor landing, JD glanced back. Khoder was leaning against the railing, bent forward with a hand pressed to his side.
“Come on,” JD said. “Just two more levels.”
“Bro? What happened to the fourth floor?”
“I only said that to get us in the building.”
Khoder’s eyes widened in slow realization. “Brainy shit, bro.”
“I have my moments.”
When they reached the sixth floor, Soo-hyun was already waiting outside apartment 6E—home of Omar Garang, owner of Angel Angles Cleaning Service, and their ticket into Zero Lee’s apartment.
“I haven’t walked this many steps in fucking ever, bro.”
“Dagchyeo,” Soo-hyun spat. “This is it.”
“What are we going to say to him?” JD asked.
“I’ll let Señor Sting do the talking.” They reached into their backpack and retrieved a small taser cased in black and yellow. On one side of the weapon was a cartoon bee with a bolt of lightning where its stinger should be.
“Wait a minute,” JD said. “I’ve got money; we can pay him off.”
Soo-hyun ignored him. “Khoder, I need you here,” they said. “Take off the hat, muss up your hair, and try and look innocent.”
Khoder’s best version of innocence was tearful sobbing, so he frowned, scrunched up his eyes, and made his chest jerk and shudder.
“Shit,” Soo-hyun said, jutting out their lower lip. “Kid’s a natural.”
“Soo-hyun,” JD whispered. “We don’t have to do it like this. What happened to calm?”
“We don’t have time for calm.” They shoved JD back, knocked on the door, and stood out of sight so that a destitute-looking Khoder was the only one visible through the door’s spy hole.
After a few seconds, Soo-hyun knocked again. The three of them listened carefully, trying to pick footsteps out from the ambient noise of the building.
The door opened with a quiet squeak, revealing a thin-framed Sudanese man, wearing a towel tied at his waist, held in place with one hand. “What’s wrong, boy?”
Before Khoder could respond, Soo-hyun leaped forward, knocking Omar back and slamming the door open with their shoulder. The taser pulsed and crackled in their hand, spitting an inch of blue electricity which they stuck against the man’s throat. He collapsed, hitting the floor a split second after his towel did.
“Cock!” Khoder said, staring at the man’s genitals.
“Shut up and get inside.” JD shoved Khoder into the apartment, grabbed the naked man under the arms and dragged him back from the open doorway. As soon as his legs were out of the way, Soo-hyun slammed the door shut.
Omar Garang groaned and twitched, kicking out as he tried to stand. Soo-hyun triggered the taser again.
“Don’t!” JD yelled.
“What?”
“I’m still holding him.”
Soo-hyun smirked. “You’d hardly feel it.”
“Find a chair,” JD said. “One with armrests.”
Soo-hyun disappeared deeper into the apartment, and JD lowered the man to the floor.
“Kid,” JD said, switching to the first codename that came to mind. “Find his keys, wallet, phone. And search the place—just because no one else is on the lease doesn’t mean he lives alone.”
“Here!” Soo-hyun returned to the main living area, pushing a tattered office chair on black plastic casters.
“What’s happening?” Omar’s eyes searched, unfocused. He threw a punch, but it only glanced off JD’s shoulder.
“Sorry,” JD said.
Soo-hyun held the chair steady, and JD lifted Omar off the ground. The man’s arms and genitals flopped heavily from side to side as JD hefted him onto the seat. Omar struggled half-heartedly, still dulled by the pain. JD reached into his rucksack for zip ties and fastened Omar’s wrists to the curved plastic armrests of the chair. Next, he crossed Omar’s feet one over the other and zip-tied his ankles together.
He stepped back to examine his handiwork, then put the towel
