Chapter 192
Seoul, Korea
Gwangjin District
Lucien made the jump from one balcony to the other with ease, landing on the balls of his feet and quickly caught himself. He took the free end of the clothesline and loosely hung from the metal railing across from the neighboring balcony.
It was a worst case scenario exit strategy.
He listened at the window, pressing his ear against it to detect any type of vibrations or sounds that someone with normal hearing wouldn’t pickup.
But there were no vibrations coming from the apartment; no sound, no hum from electronics or appliances, not even the hum of a lightbulb.
That wasn’t normal and something was not quite right here.
The glass was painted black, he could tell, and kept him from being able to see in. But it also kept anyone inside from seeing out.
That would work in his favor, possibly.
Lucien pulled a glass cutter from his inside jacket pocket and a small suction cup. Carefully he cut a hole in the glass then pulled the circle away and set it down on the balcony. He replaced the suction cup and glass cutter in his jacket pocket then pulled out a small telescoping pole with a mirror on it and used it to look into the apartment, staying to the side out of the line of sight of the hole.
If it were Lula doing recon, she would have simply kicked in the door. If it were Kita, he would have staked the unit out, for days if needed, before gaining entry.
Lucien was a bit more cautious and that is what made him the best at recon in the family.
The inside of the apartment was completely dark. The window had been painted black to keep prying eyes out, and that meant keeping out all light as well. Because of the darkness, it was impossible to see anything beyond the sun coming through the hole Lucien put in the window.
“Might as well make my presence known,” he said, holding his penlight next to the telescope in his other hand and a bright LED light illuminated the area. “Desk, chair, sleeping mat, and a hand generator for electricity. Interesting,” he mumbled, his attention going to the overflowing trash bins. “That is a lot of saline eye solution.”
Lucien started to reach inside to unlock the window when the unmistakable smell of almonds carried on the air from the apartment.
“Oh no,” he groaned, using the mirror to look around the window frame and his eyes widened when he saw the softly glowing red numbers counting down. “Sh*t!” he hissed, dropping his tools and dove over the railing, grabbing the clothesline as he went moments before an explosion sent glass, cinderblock, and splintered wood flying away from the building.
Lucien raced headfirst towards the ground below, the clothesline in his hand burning through his tactical gloves as he tried to slow his descent with friction.
The momentum from the drop caused Lucien to swing across the back of the building and under the neighboring balcony. The clothesline snapped and he slammed down on the balcony and rolled across it before slamming back first into the metal railing, knocking the air from his lungs.
Lucien’s hands were bleeding from the burns running the length of his palms. The back of his head made contact with the unrelenting metal and split open; he’d need staples to close it, he suspected. His vision was blurry from his concussed state, lungs hurt and it was a struggle to breathe—most likely he had a broken rib or two—and his leg was searing.
Lucien struggled to pull himself up but collapsed again. “Will, can you hear me?” he choked, trying to stay conscious. “Mama? Chichi?” he whispered, peppering himself with blood.
His vision started to fail, the building started swaying, but that could have been from vertigo, and he slumped over as unconscious started to take him just as a second explosion shook the entire building.
Crackling in his ears caused Lucien to force his eyes open.
It was impossible to see through the dust and smoke filling the air. His mouth tasted of blood and sulfur, he had a collapsed lung on one side, he knew, broken ribs, a few broken fingers, and something was sticking out from his leg but he didn’t think it was a bone. Most likely he was impaled on something that was on the balcony.
“Will?” Lucien gasped, trying to get in contact with the others. He needed to make sure his parents were okay, and that the little girl he stashed in Pan Jin’s apartment was kept safe from the explosion. “Chichi? Mama?” he stammered, tears staining his cheeks.
The crackling wasn’t normal, and it flooded him with fear that he made a mistake that cost his parents and that little girl their lives.
“Luci?” a soprano voice called out from the alley below.
“Yang Sun?” Lucien asked before choking on the blood flooding his throat.
“Scary lady! I found him!” the young girl yelled. “He’s on the second floor!”
Mauri ran as fast as he could, and without delay, he climbed up the building, using whatever he could find to hold on to. “Child, go get my wife so you can help her find the right unit,” he instructed, pulling himself over the railing of the balcony his son was sprawled out on. “Lucien?” he gasped, hurrying to him. “Son?” he shouted, shaking him.
“Chichi?” Lucien coughed, peppering them with blood, forcing his eyes open; he couldn’t hear. “Is Yang Sun and Mama okay?”
He nodded, pulling his tie free to use as a tourniquet for his son’s leg; there was a piece of wood from the window frame sticking out of it.
“I messed up,” Lucien tried to explain. “I messed up, Chichi.”
Mauri pulled his son up into a sitting position to keep him breathing and from drowning in his own blood. “You did nothing wrong. The apartment was rigged to blow. Even a slamming door could have set it off! It was amateurish wiring and that is what caused it to go off. Not anything you did, Son.”
“I did something wrong,” Lucien repeated, not hearing his father nor did he see his moving lips. His eyes closed and head lolled forward. “I did something wrong. I am so sorry. I failed them, Chichi…” his words trailed off.
Mauri wrapped his jacket around his son and smacked his cheeks to keep him awake, but he was unresponsive.
Lucien was going into shock and was losing a lot of blood.
“Stay with me, Son. Please stay with me,” Mauri pleaded, tears staining his cheeks. “Come on, Luci. Stay with me. Please stay with me, Son,” he begged his unresponsive son, hugging him tight to his chest. “Stay with me. Please stay with me,” he pleaded before screaming when Lucien stopped breathing.
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