Get out here. Now.

A surly expression flickered across the man’s mouth. Closing his phone, he reached up and smoothed his beard, then turned to his left.
“Got to go, little minx,” the scantily clad redhead pouted, but obliged, sliding out of the booth to let him pass. He stretched his neck side to side, threw the redhead and her brunette friend a wink, and headed towards the door.
Around him, the night club’s smoke saturated the air, lingering about people’s faces as they talked of inconsequential matters. Shot glasses clinked.
No one paid any attention to him, beyond the cursory upraising glance. He glared hard at anyone who judged him less than he deserved, and he knew the scars on his arms and tattoos on his shoulders warded off everyone else.
Had they known that his exterior belied something much more sinister underneath, they would have run shrieking incoherently. No, the sheep looked down meekly and kept drinking their lives away, relieved that they were allowed to live.
Rafael strode with a predator’s step, passing the doorway bouncer, the heavy exit door, and onward into the night air.
As predicted, a black sedan waited for him on the curb, windows black. Rafael got in.
“Mr. Rodriguez,” Rafael greeted.
His boss set his wine glass down, and turned to him. Rodriguez was nearing fifty, but though his face showed deep age lines, his body was far from frail. The man’s hazel eyes fixed on Rafael, flinty and clear.
“Well?” his voice was gruff, as usual. It was a voice that tolerated no backtalk, held no patience for idiocy, and projected a honed edge of constant suspicion. Rafael appreciated it. The less time spent on pleasantry, the more time for doing his job: search and destroy. It was Rafael’s favorite game.
“Daphne, a redhead who works as a stripper here, has a sister who lives in Miami, Florida. She currently works for the Royal Caribbean and recently left port a few days ago,” Rafael replied.
“I know you care nothing for these women, so get to the point,” Rodriguez prompted, though without his usual bark. Rafael had been his right-hand man for nearly eleven years. He always got the job done.
“I sent the sister a letter before she left, with a lock of Daphne’s hair,” Rafael chuckled darkly, “I implied that if she did not fulfill my request, that there would be something more permanent sent next time.”
“Ah, and I suppose the Daphne girl has no idea?” his boss prompted.
“Of course not. Using that minx is quite enjoyable at the moment. She blabs about a great number of things. However, if she does find out about what I told her sister, I’ll relish the chance to show her exactly who I am. The fear is absolutely…”
“Yes, Rafael. I know you take pleasure in your job. You’ve said so for years.”
“Which is why you keep me employed,” Rafael grinned. The scar on his cheek wrinkled.
“Indeed. Now, the information?”
Rafael pulled a folded paper from his pocket. Rodriguez shook it open with one hand while he pulled out a cigarette. Rafael reached over to light it for him. Smoke soon filled the car.
“This is the passenger manifest for a cruise line,” Rodriguez spoke, scanning the list.
Rafael nodded, “For the Royal Caribbean International MS Jewel of the Seas. Daphne’s sister succeeded, fortunately for Daphne,” Rafael affirmed, though he was a bit disappointed, “I do not know yet at which port they plan to disembark, but it will not take too long to figure out.”
“See that you do,” Rodriguez put the list away, and took another drag, “After they ran into hiding more than a year ago, even my sources could not find them.”
“Neither could my methods,” Rafael added.
“Which means they took next to no one with them when they left. Hah! Derek must be scraping the barrel to keep track of his operations.”
“He probably has T.S. running them for him,” Rafael pointed out, watching as Rodriguez’s lip turned up in a sneer at the name.
“T.S. stole what is mine. I should have seen that from the beginning. It hadn’t been Derek, and I wasted my time with him,” came the growl, “allowing him and T.S. the chance to retaliate, almost ruining me! My long-planned surprise attack on T.S.’s daughter last November still bore no results! Derek is helping him hide those plates, I know. They’ve always trusted each other.”
“But they didn’t trust you.”
There was a beat of silence.
“I allow you to have free reign in much that you do, Rafael. Tread carefully, though, in what you say to me,” Rodriguez bit out. Rafael did not look away, and a moment later, nodded.
“I’ll make both Derek and T.S. pay, even more so than they have already,” his boss added.
Rafael smiled maliciously, images of fire, a crying girl, and red sea water danced enticingly across his mind, “That will be fun.”
“But only after you obtain my rightful belongings,” Rodriguez reminded him, “Before that, we have to find out where they’ve been holed up all this time. Following T.S.’s pet crew should lead us right there.”
“That’s my assignment, then?”
“Naturally. Use whatever resources you require. You know my routes,” Rodriguez unlocked the door. Their discussion was over for now.
Rafael nodded, and stepped out of the vehicle.
“You know, I may not need to go there in person. I know a honcho who runs a lucrative prostitution ring on every island east of the Dominican Republic. He owes you several favors, and he buys many of your shipments. I’ll get him to do some searching.”
“Just get the job done. Find them,” Rodriguez replied, and eyed his right-hand man, “What is it that keeps you here anyway?”
“Oh, I just don’t think I’ve gotten to know Miss Daphne as well as I like yet,” Rafael voiced. He knew his smile took on a manic edge. He was getting excited just thinking about it.
“I may have to tell her that her sister failed after all.”
With that, Rafael closed the door, and slid his calloused hands into his pockets, fingering the sharp steel knife that rested there.

()()()()()()()()()()

Le Yacht, Nine a.m.

The next morning, Samantha came in early to open up shop. It wasn’t the first time she had done so, and the other employees were used to her presence by now.
Business progressed smoothly. Sam had made two sales, handed out reserved rental keys to an old man and his young wife, and had just returned from making herself a cup of hazelnut iced coffee, when the door chimed yet again.
Sam looked up in reflex, smile in place. Her eyes widened.
A tall young man with light brown hair walked in, his long legs carrying him to Sam’s desk in two strides. The sunglasses that hid his eyes glimmered once in a ray of sun. They looked expensive, as did his clothes. Mystery seemed to cloak him as a crown did a king, so much so that Sam did not initially notice the other two men who had entered after him.

They were also young and lean. One had black hair swept to one side. The angles of his face, while clearly Asian, combined with his eye shape in a way Sam had not seen on any Asian before. It was a distinctive blend, and eye-catching. The other guy had an innocent smile curling at the corner of his lips, thick brown hair brushed forward, and eyes that caught Sam’s heart in a stutter.
They looked like they had stepped out of an Island Causal magazine and happened to land in Puerto Rico. Linen shirts and pressed slacks, luxury watches and accessories; yep, definitely high-rollers.
She quickly focused back on the first man, “Hello, welcome to Le Yacht. Thank you for choosing our yacht chartering service.”
The young man—Sam decided to call him Long Legs—glided nearer, biting on a toothpick in his mouth.
“What's up? Is there a Kim Le here?” He asked bluntly.
“Yes, but Ms. Le is out for errands. Can I help y--?”
“You new?” He interjected rudely.
“Um...yea?" Sam frowned, annoyed and gave him a puzzled looked.
Long Legs chuckled, “So can I rent a yacht?”
“Okay!” Sam stamped down the nervous vibe she felt, and pulled upon her most professional voice, “Please fill out this form here with your name, credit card information, and phone number. Sign at the bottom when you’re finished and I’ll need your ID.”
With a practiced flourish, she presented the papers, complete with clipboard and pen. Long Legs glanced down dismissively at the items and promptly ignored them. He leaned over the desk, invading her personal bubble.
“Oh, I’m a returned customer,” he pointed to the computer, “Look up my name. Yong-guk Bang. You should have everything you need saved already. I’ll take the one we had last time.”
“The 210 Sunreef Power Trimaran,” Unique Face added helpfully. Angel Eyes, meanwhile, had wandered back outside. He stared over the side of the pier, then trailed his hand along the rope, then tapped his foot restlessly, as if to a song.
“All right. Give me a moment, please,” Sam was busy typing up the search for past transactions when she heard rapping on the glass door.
“Hyung! What’s taking so long?” Angel Eyes had walked back to the entrance. His face peered into the lobby area innocently, “Oh! Wait a minute, this door is glass now? Is this some new addition Noona added to the store?” He wondered aloud. His fingers roamed along the edges, exploring as if he were a carpenter or something.
Sam hurried over and spoke at him through the glass, “Sir, if you’re not renting a yacht I need you to back away please. You're blocking the entry way.”
Angel Eyes did not seem to hear her, and instead turned towards the upper eave. The purple heart ribbon that Kayla had given Sam as a parting gift hung there, shining in the sun. Sam had kept it in her pocket while she slept, and it had miraculously made it through her entire kidnapping. It had been crushed and wet, but after drying it in the sun, Sam had painstakingly reformed it.
The heart was the only thing she had left of her life back in Oregon. Seeing it hanging on the door every morning reminded Sam of her goal, and filled her with determination.
“Oh this is pretty. Did you make it?” Angel Eyes inquired, reaching towards it with one hand.
Sam quickly pulled the heart down and cradled it in her hands, “No, I didn’t.”
“If you didn’t want it to be stolen, you shouldn’t hang it near the window,” Angel Eyes teased. His smile seemed to make the air brighter somehow. Sam shook herself mentally. Be professional! No more Channing Tatum incidents!
Resolutely, Sam strode back into the office, and deposited the heart ribbon gently inside a desk drawer. She refocused on Yong-guk. He and Unique Face had been waiting patiently, as if Angel Eye’s disruptions were commonplace. The computer’s search dinged, signaling its end.
“Oh yes, I found you,” She said as she looked up his name, “Mister…Bang?” Sam giggled slightly.
“What’s so funny?” Yong-guk asked.
“Is your last name really Bang?”
Yong-guk slid off his sunglasses, then, revealing narrowed brown eyes.
And that’s when Sam recognized he was the same man as the one on Kim’s cell phone last night.
“Hey! You're that one guy...Oooooh. I’m not supposed to do anything until Kim gets back,” Sam quickly used the mouse to minimize the screen. She even turned off the monitor for good measure. Oops. I should probably call Kim, now.
“Is there a problem, Miss?” Unique Face asked kindly. Sam bit her lip. It would be rude to say outright that Kim had made her promise not to do business with Yong-guk unless she was present.
“Uh, well…I’m so new here, you know, and, um…” she trailed off unconvincingly.
“Hyung! Are you done yet? Hurry up!” Angel Eyes repeated. He was munching on an apple now. Wherever he found it, Sam had no idea.
“DAE-HYUN! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY WINDOW!” a loud feminine voice yelled.
The young man startled and, without turning toward the voice, hurried into the shop.
“The queen has returned to her castle!” he announced dramatically at Yong-guk. Yong-guk just smirked, sliding his folded sunglasses into his shirt pocket casually. The three men turned to face the door, just as Kim stormed in.
“Hold up! Freeze! Don’t do anything! Don’t let him sign anything!” Kim said forcefully. She locked eyes with Sam, “I told you to wait until I came back to deal with him!”
“I haven’t done anything yet,” Sam assured, holding up the blank forms immediately.
Kim blew out a breath, then strode forwards and slammed her hand on the desk, turning to Yong-guk. Sam felt like she could breathe again, with Kim’s gaze directed elsewhere. She peered at Yong-guk. He seemed completely unfazed.
“What the fuck are you doing here so early?” Kim asked. Her other hand rested on her hip. She was the picture of “pissed off.”
“I’m fine, thank you. How are you?” Yong-guk joked, smirk widening.
“Cut the crap. Answer the question,” Kim demanded.
“Isn’t it obvious? I need to rent a yacht.”
“No.”
“C’mon, Kim.”
“Absolutely not.”
“I have business to do,” he emphasized on the word, and suddenly the mood changed. The mysterious aura was back, and Sam glanced around uncertainly at the three guys and Kim standing there together. It was obvious now they definitely had quite the history.
“Does my dad know?” Kim finally replied softly.
“Of course. Why else would I be here if he didn’t?” Yong-guk answered.
Kim turned towards Sam, her curled hair whipping about.
“Sam, can you go get those gas receipts from Señor Morillo, please?”
“Oh, now?” Sam hesitated. Kim just inclined her head yes. Clearly this was one of those VIP-ranked conversations, “Y-yeah of course!”
Sam has just talked to him yesterday, but whatever. She picked up her purse, her phone, and exited.

()()()()()()()()()()
Sam was soon returning from her very short and awkward conversation with Mr. Morillo. There had been nothing to discuss, really, and Sam had not wanted to share client gossip with anyone. Definite no-no in this business, so she had simply thanked Mr. Morillo for his diligent work with the yachts, chatted about the weather, then left.
Mr. Morillo probably thinks I’m so weird, Sam thought.
Her feet alighted on the wooden dock south of the main pier—she had taken the scenic route back in order to give Kim more time to finish her talk—when Sam noticed up ahead was that annoying Dae-Hyun guy. Two others, around the same age, stood talking with him. Sam really didn’t want to deal with the restless man at the moment, and turned back. She figured she’d head down to one of the connecting docks and make her way back to Le Yacht that way.
Maybe she’ll waste time collecting clams on the way. Hector would tell her she behaved like a ten-year-old, but hey, their home needed some decoration.
Sam had gotten about twenty feet away from Dae-hyun and company, when two hulky men stepped into her path.
“Perdóneme,” Sam mumbled, stepping to move around them. They blocked her.
“¿A dónde va, chica?” one of the men leered in a flirty tone, “Ven a jugar con nosotros, Beautiful Girl. Usted es muy guapa.”
Sam winced.
“No, gracias,” she replied and reluctantly turned around to take the other dock. She hated getting attention from men like this, and the best way to end it, was to walk away. Quickly. Even if that meant going past Dae-hyun.
She got two steps before the same man who had spoken circled in front of her.
“I ask so nice,” the man said, in accented English.
“I want you to move, please,” Sam was certain to enunciate so they couldn’t misunderstand her.
A thick hand suddenly landed on her shoulder. She turned to see the other man grinning at her. His two front teeth were missing; the rest were yellowed.
Sam contemplated hitting him with her purse.
“The lady told you to move. You’re blocking her way,” Dae-hyun’s voice uttered as he walked toward Sam’s spot on the shore. His tone had a hard edge to it, clashing with the angelic expression still on his face.
One of his companions with light auburn hair flipped up and over to one side stepped up face to face with creepy man number one. He was taller than Dae-hyun by a few centimeters, and broader about the shoulders.
“Y si no obedecemos?” the other man challenged.
Sam glanced at the clenching fists on both sides for a split second, then spun out of the man’s grasp and ran down the way she had begun before being stopped by the thugs.
She didn’t care to look back. A fight looked ready to erupt, and why should she care for the outcome? She reached the other dock entrance and slowed down. No one had followed her, thankfully.
She could barely see the group of men on the shoreline south of her, not fighting yet, but probably about to do so. Sam inhaled and exhaled slowly, pushing the adrenaline back. The dock would take her thirty minutes to traverse, and hopefully by the time she reached the pier, they’d be gone.
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Notes

DISCLAIMER: We do not own any recognizable characters or organizations in this story. We are not making any monetary profit either. The members names of B.A.P. are only borrowed here to inspire our (and hopefully, your) imaginations. Any resemblance to the actual B.A.P. is coincidental, except in regards to Kang Ji Won’s, Kim Ki Bum’s, and the MV’s director’s conceptual ideas for the One Shot. We basically took our character’s physical appearances and plot ideas from that video. Of course, then we made it our own.