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Footsteps were the only surround sound one would hear if you walked through the streets of Seoul right now. He peeked out through the broken glass window down at the foggy, misted and dust-ridden asphalt and tar streets. He gulped and looked back at the ex-hostages that were hiding behind him as he barely sat upright, propped up on his right elbow.

“Crap,” he breathed. He didn't expect his first "assignment" to go so wrong. He listened to the SWAT team march up to the three storey building they were squatting in. “Okay people, this is the plan,” he said as he peeked his head around the table, he was calming down until felt the building shake. The floor-to-ceiling window's glass that was protruding out from the floor and walls was falling out, clattering loudly on the floor.

“On my mark, do exactly as I say, when I say it,” he stated sternly. He looked behind him, and saw the hostages nodding nervously. “Okay, on my mark I want you to-” he whisper shouted just as an explosion rang out and debris went flying everywhere. Somewhere outside of the white noise he managed to focus on a figure sashaying towards him with a gun in their hand casually, almost as if it was a toy.

The hostages- he thought as he swivelled his head, looking for somebody, anybody. It was just then he realised he was buried in debris waist down. He started to feel light-headed as red blurred his vision. He looked up, “Started to think we'd never catch you,” followed by a cold chuckle. Spitting out the blood and returning his focus, he spat, almost quite literally “Go to Hell!” “No, but when we're finished with you, you're gonna wish you had.”

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