Task Force Sub Unit | ✓

02: 'WHERE COULD THE LITTLE BRIDE GO'

A/N:

Suspiciously, I had some sort of an updating schedule. I have no idea where that went.
  

02: 'WHERE COULD THE LITTLE BRIDE GO'

AKA THE TIME THEY ESCAPE DUTIFULLY

    

    
     

UNLIKE HIS PARTNER, Minwoo liked to be well versed and sure of his every move. Calculations upon calculations of movements and decisions, all based on the best possible outcome for him. Usually meant that he was breathing and alive as much as possible, no matter the percentage of survival. Though he usually preferred itif all his limbs were intact.

But with a job where people are chasing you with knives and making it rain with bullets enough to take down an entire city - it's not really very realistic.

Minwoo scanned the surroundings before he hitched himself in the shadows, blending into the void. He listened intently, closing his eyes and matched the set of familiar movement to his unusual partner.

So far into the chaos of the open lobby, running down from all those stairs and running away from thugs when he spotted his friend in a sea of said angry thugs.

At a familiarity - and lack of anyone else - he thrusted a hand out and pulled. Grayson was used to this, of course, even the scolding that came after that he wasn't shocked, nor fought as he was harshly shoved into the shadows with the man of darkness himself.

"Jia er you fucking idiot," Minwoo growled, maintaining his low voice.

Grayson grinned. "I love it when you call my real name."

"I'm pretty sure that's not your real name." Minwoo checked his watch over the light and sighed. Fifteen minutes late. Of course. "No one in their right mind would actually put their real name in a file that can be stored as bait after getting caught."

"So Minwoo's not your real name?"

"We will not have this conversation again, Mr. Jerome Huan." Minwoo pursed his lips and right on time, the platoon of angry mob men with their shouts of swearing and loose alcohol came thrashing out of the same direction Grayson ran from.

But this time they stopped for several seconds, admitting the difficulty of several hallways, and grunted as they all separated in the three main exits.

As the steps echoed faintly, Grayson nodded to nothing, cracked his knuckles and led the way into the fourth, obscure exit.

Of course if you were plied with alcohol in itself, you could probably still have the mind to check everywhere, or at least remember the outline of the building you used for your murdering-bride schemes.