» UNACCEPTABLE
Black eyes watched him from beneath the cold, skull mask; watching him with interest but also distrust, burning his way through paling skin like he was putting out a cigar. The assassin stood before him, dark hair ruffled and circles under drooping eyes adding to that look of compunction he presented. The drug lord held the decision of his life in the palm of his hand, his thumb gliding across his fingertips – elbow propped up on his table. “I heard you were having trouble with one of Joker’s men,” Kim Wonsik’s voice was deep, tired and raw. Underneath that blood orange parka he still wore his swat team uniform – getting off his night shift only hours before. It was a Saturday morning, seven am, and on top of the exhaustion he felt his body buzzing with the tension of being placed in front of a man whose loyalty he had betrayed four months ago. “I’ll take care of it.” Those dark eyes turned from Wonsik to his son, standing beside him with a hand curled around the top of his father’s chair. He had only been given this opportunity because of that thief, who glanced back at his father in silence and with such professionalism. He remembered holding his breath in that silence, biting at his gums; afraid that despite Hakyeon’s adoration for him, Ravi would be fed to the dogs – devoured. “Do your job, do it well.” The corrupt cop exhaled, shutting his eyes as there was this swift relief that came down on him. Dark orbs opened again with a small nod, and a promise that he wouldn’t disappoint. Black Mask snapped his fingers in reply, impatient already for this target’s head on a spike. The gunman backed away to the large doors of the office and his attention moved towards Hakyeon once more – brows softening in expression as they exchanged glances. He offered no smile, no words, just a small nod of thanks before he vanished past the doors. Wonsik could not be unsuccessful in this mission, failure was unacceptable.
* * *
He remembered this as he loaded his guns, gloved fingertips trailing against their steal barrels and clicking rounds into their proper positions. Ravi did it all by the light of the tall lamp in the corner of his empty bedroom, the white sheets on his bed wrinkling around the bullets, guns and stolen police files. The captured images of his target attached to the manila folder by a paper clip and the masked villain grinned back at him with a playful, sinister expression. That mask would be easy to find, the large buffs of fake blue clown hair on each side and the big, sad, red lips and expressionless eyes looking out at him from the images. It reminded Wonsik of the clowns he had nightmares of as a child, it was maybe one of the most normal parts of his childhood – and he was going to enjoy shooting it through the eye. Two days after his meeting with one of the most intimidating men he’d ever had the experience of seeing; he had researched and discovered what he needed to get rid of the threat. Time was of the essence for Deadshot – this was no leisurely murder, he too was dependant on this kill. It left his shirtless chest rising with a deep inhale, exhaling roughly through his nostrils as he looked back on the meeting again, thinking about the professionalism of the elegant son beside his father. Wonsik frowned softly, clicking the belt into place around his waist and thighs. He tucked the pistols into their positions on his legs, the sniper ammo getting stored into the ammo pocket attacked to his belt. It came from his sources that his target would be prowling the streets tonight, aiming to pick off the Joker’s enemies as if they were little blood sucking ticks. Deadshot would catch him unaware with one clean shot and return to Black Mask with this guy’s own ugly mask in his hands. From the secret hook in the back of his wardrobe he pulled out the upper half of his disguise, the deep orange parka, the bullet proof vest, that well known ski mask poking out of the pocket with its high tech scope built into the material. Ravi tossed it all onto his bed and added to the creases – standing back for a moment to brush his fingertips through his hair. Tonight he’d be taken back into the Black Mask gang and he’d let nothing stop that.