The Hostages

Jisung and Haechan wandered the hallways together, giving the elevators longing glances. “I wish we could at least go to the practice rooms or something,” Haechan grumbled. “I’m gonna go crazy staying up here.”

“Tell me about it,” Jisung agreed. “I think I heard Sehun talking about turning the conference room into a dance space.”

“Let’s go!” Haechan exclaimed, running down the hallway. They skidded to a stop in front of the door and Haechan went to go in when Jisung threw an arm across his chest. “Listen,” he whispered. They leaned toward the cracked door carefully.

“-don’t take orders from some small-time detective! If I choose not to talk, that’s my business!”

“Is that the-” Haechan began.

“Shh!” Jisung snapped, craning his head.

“But sir, if it is-”

“I will take care of it!” the CEO barked. “Are you so much smarter than me? Maybe you should be the CEO and I should be the assistant!”

“N-no sir, that’s not-”

“Go tell that detective that I can’t see him today!” he interrupted. “And cancel my afternoon meetings.”

They heard footsteps approaching and they backed away quickly, running back down the hallway. They dashed around the corner just as the harried assistant came out, heading the opposite direction. “What do you suppose-” Haechan began.

“Wait!” Jisung said, the door opening again. The CEO came around the corner and they bowed respectfully. He barely glanced at them as he went to the elevators and got in. After the doors closed they let out a sigh of relief. “That was close,” Jisung breathed.

“What are you doing?”

Haechan jumped, stumbling back into Jisung. “Taeyong! You scared us.”

“Speak for yourself,” Jisung said, shoving Haechan off of him. Taeyong raised an eyebrow. “What’s going on?” he asked. Haechan and Jisung exchanged a look. “It’s probably nothing,” Jisung assured him, turning to leave. Taeyong grabbed his shoulder. “Tell me anyway,” he said. “I’m as bored as you are.”

“We were going to go to the conference room,” Haechan volunteered, “but the CEO was already in there.”

“Really?” Taeyong asked, folding his arms. “What did you say to him?”

“We didn’t go in,” Jisung replied. “He was yelling at his assistant. He sounded really angry.”

“I’m sure he’s under a lot of stress. What were they yelling about?”

Jisung was cut off by the elevator doors opening again. Two policemen stepped off, their badges flashing on chains around their necks. The older one looked irate and was walking very fast, making the younger one struggle to keep up. The boys bowed as they passed by, the policemen completely ignoring them.

“I'll catch up with you later,” Taeyong murmured, following the policemen. Jisung and Haechan glanced at each other. “What's up with him?” Haechan asked.


******


Taeyong turned the corner just as the policemen disappeared into the conference room. He jogged over and paused by the door, pressing himself against the wall as he listened.

“How could we miss him?!” one of them huffed. “The receptionist said he was-”

“The receptionist lied,” the other one said coolly. “The CEO is avoiding us.”

“But why?” the first one asked. “Doesn't he want to find his idols?”

“He must know something that he doesn't want to tell us,* the second one mused. “Maybe we should investigate him too.”

“Can we do that? He's a powerful man.”

“Eight people are missing. We can do whatever we want.” He started talking to someone on the phone, his voice too low for Taeyong to hear. He walked down the hallway, trying to understand what he'd just heard. The CEO is definitely avoiding the police, he realized. Suho was right!


******


The cell door opened and D.O came out of his ruminations. He turned around and his stomach dropped sickeningly. “Taemin? What happened?” he asked, hurrying over to him. Taemin braced himself against the wall, shaking his head. Amber let out a shriek and D.O looked up to see a guard deposit a bloodied Taeyeon on the floor. “Taemin, talk to me! What happened?” he repeated. He put his arm around him and realized Taemin's entire body was trembling. “How bad is it?” he called over his shoulder.

“I don't know,” Amber replied. “There's too much blood.”

Taemin shrank away from D.O, sinking to the floor in a crumpled heap. “Are you hurt?” D.O asked him. Taemin shook his head, tears running down his face as he stared at Taeyeon. D.O went over to Taeyeon and had to repress a wave of nausea. “Taeyeon? Can you hear me?” he asked gently. “It's D.O.”

She cracked her eyes open and looked up at him. She tried to say something, but it only came out in a rattled whisper. Amber leaned down and listened carefully. “What's she saying?” D.O asked. Amber straightened up. “She says it's not his fault,” she said, tilting her head.

“Whose fault?” D.O asked. “Did the man in black do this to you?”

Taeyeon shook her head slightly.

“I don't understand,” D.O said. “Was it a guard? Someone else?”

Taemin started sobbing and Wendy went over to him. “It's alright, Taemin,” she whispered, taking his hands in her own. “Talk to me.” She looked down and drew her breath in sharply. “Oh, Taemin,” she breathed, staring at his hands.

“What?” Mark asked, coming over to them. Wendy looked up at Taemin, trying to form words. “Was it you?” she asked finally. Taemin pulled his hands away and curled up into a ball.

Mark covered his mouth in shock. “This is bad. This is really bad.”

“This can't be right,” Amber insisted. “Taemin wouldn't hurt anyone. He can't have done this.”

“Unless he wasn't given a choice,” Chanyeol murmured.

“You mean… that man made him hurt Taeyeon?” Jeno asked, staring down at her. “Why would he do that?”

“He's angry,” D.O said grimly. “The negotiations must be going badly.”

“How do we even know there are any negotiations?” Mark demanded.

“Why wouldn't there be?” Wendy countered. “They haven't abandoned us, Mark. They're going to get us out of here.”

“How many days have we been here?” Mark snapped. “Five? Six? And we haven't had even a hint of news!”

“That's not helping!” Amber barked. “Things are bad enough without you making everyone feel hopeless!”

Mark folded his arms, visibly seething. Amber and Wendy moved Taeyeon to the back wall and tried to make her comfortable. D.O looked back at Taemin, still huddled against the wall. He looks like he's been through hell, he thought.

The door opened again and two guards came in. Before anyone could speak they grabbed Chanyeol and started dragging him toward the door.

“Chanyeol!” D.O yelled, grabbing onto his hand. “Leave him alone! Don't touch him!”

One of the guards backhanded him and he fell to the floor, unconscious.


******


Onew watched Taeyong concernedly. He's been pacing for almost ten minutes, he realized.

“Onew!”

Onew looked back at the table. “Sorry,” he murmured, drawing another card from the deck. Jonghyun turned around in his chair, trying to see what Onew was looking at. “Why are you so distracted?” he asked, looking back at him.

“I'm just thinking,” Onew said dismissively.

“Leave him alone, Jonghyun,” Taeil said, pulling a pair of cards from his hand. “He's just worried like the rest of us.”

“Tell me about it,” Chen grumbled. “Onew, do you have a six?”

Onew shook his head. “Go fish,” he replied, glancing back at Taeyong.

“Remind me again why we're playing this?” Taeil asked.

“Because you can only play so many rounds of War before you want to throttle someone,” Jonghyun mumbled. “Do you have a three?”

Taeil gave him the card. “How long do they expect to keep us here? We can't live here forever.”

Onew caught Irene watching him, one eyebrow raised. He looked back down at his cards and nodded slightly in Taeyong's direction. Irene looked over at him, then nodded at Onew.

“Gentlemen, I believe that's my last pair,” Onew announced, laying down a pair of tens. Jonghyun groaned, tossing his cards down. “Not again,” he muttered, shuffling the deck.

Onew glanced up in time to see Irene head over to Taeyong. Something tells me we'll have an interesting meeting tonight, he mused.


******


Irene sneaked out into the hallway, her heart pounding. They were right about the CEO, she realized. Wendy and the others are trapped somewhere and they're not even trying to save them. The thought made her blood boil and she gritted her teeth. I've never felt more powerless in my life! she thought desperately, clenching her fists.

The elevator dinged and she looked up automatically. She could hear heated voices coming from the end of the hall, so she crept forward to hear.

“-have a letter for the CEO. The receptionist said he was up here.”

“Sorry kid, this entire floor is on strict lockdown and you're not on the list.”

Irene rounded the corner to see a young courier being blocked by two burly security guards. He waved a pristine white envelope in his hand as he tried to convince the guards. “I'm just trying to do my job, okay? Just point me in the right direction at least!”

Irene thought quickly. “I can take it for you,” she volunteered, stepping forward. The courier looked at her suspiciously. “This is a private letter for the CEO,” he said loftily. “I can't just hand it to anyone.”

“I'm very trustworthy,” Irene said sweetly. “I'm on this floor, aren't I? I'll make sure the CEO gets it.”

The courier weighed this for several agonizing seconds, then reluctantly handed over the letter. “Remember, directly into his hands,” he repeated, stepping back into the elevator. Irene bowed respectfully. “I understand,” she murmured. She turned on her heel and walked away as casually as possible. Once she was around the corner she sagged against the wall, clutching the letter tightly. What do I do now? she wondered. She couldn't alert the other leaders without attracting attention, but she had to know what the letter said. She stuffed the letter into her waist band and pulled her jacket over it before sauntering down the hallway to the ladies’ room. She went to the farthest stall and locked the door before pulling out the letter. Her hands were trembling as she stared at the envelope, the CEO’s name and address printed in neat typeface on the front. It could be nothing, she reasoned. It could be something totally unrelated. She hesitated, feeling conflicted. I have to know, she decided. She slid her finger under the flap and it tore open easily. There was a single folded piece of paper inside and she pulled it out with shaky fingers, opening it slowly. It was a photo of someone crumpled on the floor, a girl judging by the hair. She looked like she'd been attacked, her body a mess of blood and bruises. It took Irene a full fifteen seconds to realize who it was. That's Taeyeon! she thought, horror consuming her.

There was a note scribbled at the bottom in thick black characters:

Not so pretty now, is she?

Irene couldn't breathe, her vision blurring with tears as she stared at the picture. Is she dead? Did they kill her? Will they kill the others too?

She leaned against the stall door, her knees suddenly weak. We've got to save them before he kills them all.

Notes