“I'm going to take a gander and say you don't really know what the word ‘covert’ means.”
Jiyong has her arms twisted at a funny angle, fingers nimbly fastening the holster that goes all around her torso. She has the words balled up and ready at the cusp of her tongue. Piss off. I'm not an idiot. You're undermining my intelligence. Again. But she spits them away, literally, aim just short of hitting the tops of Seunghyun’s shiny leather heels.
“Whoops,” she says. “Missed.”
Seunghyun sidesteps the giant loogie on the cement, gets a half foot away from where Jiyong’s standing by the trunk of a pick-up before reaching out and tugging on the leather circling Jiyong waist.
“You might want to,” she says, undoing the buckle with one hand and using the other when she re-fastens the straps, fingers skimming over the skin above Jiyong’s lace bra. “Hide the fact that you're packing.”
Jiyong slips a hand into Seungyun’s pants pocket, grabbing the pistol faster than the time it takes for Seunghyun to blink.
She slips the gun under her boob, eyes trained on the way Seunghyun’s throat bobs by a fraction. She considers it a small victory.
“Ma'am, yes, ma'am.” Jiyong lifts her hand, offering Seunghyun a salute.
Seunghyun considers her for a second before returning the salute, both of their arms falling to the side after.
“As discussed, Brody will keep point and you'll distract the mark. Fifteen minutes, twenty tops. Standard procedure.”
Jiyong nods once. Seunghyun eyes her, toe to foot, and she quells the warmth in her stomach, training herself to keep her breathing even. Standard procedure.
“Nervous?”
Jiyong smiles. Yes and no. “It's my first mission. Someone once told me nerves are normal. And that they--”
“Never really go away,” Seunghyun finishes for her. She studies Jiyong again, eyes roaming over her face, like she's looking for something.
There was a time when Jiyong was barely thirteen, during the tail end of a rainy August month when she met Seunghyun Choi. She first saw her through a fence and she looked at her new neighbor until the older girl looked back. Jiyong didn’t stop looking even after Seunghyun had turned away.
“You think I'm ready?” Jiyong asks, a fruitless question she already knows the answer to.
“No.” Seunghyun gifts her a smile, the first one she's seen today. “But we both know you'll knock ‘em dead anyway.”
Jiyong hears the crackle of her transistor coming to life and she promptly fits her earpiece into her ear and sees Seunghyun do the same.
“Status?”
“Lin is on the move. Easter confirms his car is on standby at the east entrance.”
Seunghyun rolls her left sleeve, checking her watch.
“It's too early for lunch. Bad luck at Pai Gow?”
“Lin? Yes. Me? Already thinking of a new paint job for old trusty Harley.”
“You're not off the clock yet, X, focus.”
“Yeah, yeah, I was just saying.” A pause. “Cherry?”
Jiyong answers promptly. “Here.”
“Good luck, kid.”
“She doesn't need it,” Seunghyun cuts in then taps her earpiece, switching it off.
“So much faith,” Jiyong says as lofty as she can.
Seunghyun smiles at her for the second time that morning and Jiyong hopes that doesn't mean her luck’s about to run out today.
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