Chapter 15: Chapter 15: Dangerous Move

Joong & Dunk

A City That Never Sleeps

Bangkok at night had two faces.

The first was the one tourists saw—bright neon signs, bustling night markets, bars overflowing with laughter.

The second?

The one Joong and Dunk were walking through now?

Dark alleyways, whispered deals, and eyes that watched too closely.

---

The small coffee shop where their informant, Thanet, had agreed to meet reeked of stale air and bad decisions.

The kind of place where no one asked questions.

Joong sat at a back table, arms folded, scanning the room without looking like he was.

Dunk, across from him, was stirring his coffee but not drinking it.

They were being watched.

Joong felt it.

Not just by Thanet—who was late, by the way.

But by someone else.

Someone unseen.

He hated that.

Thanet finally shuffled in, shoulders hunched, eyes darting to every corner.

Dunk raised an eyebrow. "You look nervous, P’Thanet."

Thanet flinched. Too jumpy.

Joong’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Thanet wasn’t just nervous. He was scared.

Thanet sat down, fingers twitching against the table. "You came alone?"

Joong didn’t answer. Just watched.

The first test of a liar?

See how fast they fill in the silence.

Thanet licked his lips. "Listen, I don’t have much time. I—"

Joong cut him off. "Who paid you off?"

Thanet froze.

Dunk tilted his head. "Come on. Let’s not pretend. Someone either threatened you or paid you. Which is it?"

Thanet swallowed hard. His fingers curled into fists.

Joong’s stomach tightened.

Thanet’s knee was bouncing too much. His eyes flickered to the door.

He wasn’t here to help them.

He was here to stall them.

Joong’s fingers inched toward his holster.

Thanet saw it.

And then—

He bolted.

---

Before Joong or Dunk could react, the café door slammed open.

A men. Hoods up. Weapons drawn.

Shit.

The first gunshot shattered the café window.

Joong moved instantly—flipping the table over, grabbing Dunk by the collar, and yanking them both down.

Dunk, already reaching for his gun, let out a sharp breath. “Okay. Sooo… this is bad.”

Joong ignored him, scanning the room. Three shooters. One by the door. Two near the counter.

Exit? Blocked.

Backup? None.

Options? Limited.

Joong glanced at Dunk. “You good?”

Dunk grinned, flicking off the safety. “Dude. This is, like, the third worst situation I’ve been in this month.”

Joong sighed. “We need to work on your life choices.”

Then—they moved.

---

The shooter near the counter hesitated for half a second.

Joong didn’t.

One clean shot. Right to the chest.

The man dropped before he could even scream.

Dunk whistled. “P’Joong, remind me never to piss you off.”

Joong didn’t respond. He was already moving.

One shooter charged toward them—too fast for a clean shot.

Dunk, instead of backing up, grabbed the closest thing on the floor.

Which happened to be—

A burning-hot coffee pot.

Joong barely had time to register it before Dunk threw the entire thing into the guy’s face.

The man screamed, dropping his gun, hands clawing at his scalded skin.

Dunk snorted. “Damn. Guess it really is ‘burnt coffee’ now.”

Joong deadpanned. “Dunk.”

Dunk shrugged, grabbing the fallen gun. “What? It worked.”

Joong gritted his teeth. “Just—shoot.”

Dunk fired. One shot to the leg. One to the shoulder.

The guy dropped.

Dunk grinned. “See? Tactical genius.”

Joong ignored him.

---

The final shooter was smarter.

He didn’t rush in.

Instead, he circled to their blind spot.

Joong barely caught the movement in time. “Dunk—left!”

Dunk turned just as the guy fired.

The bullet grazed past Dunk’s arm— too close.

Joong didn’t hesitate.

One shot. Right between the eyes.

The shooter dropped.

Silence.

For a second, neither of them moved.

Then Dunk exhaled, clutching his arm. “Dude. That was way too close.”

Joong glanced at him, frowning. “You’re hit.”

Dunk waved him off. “I’ve had worse.”

Joong was already checking his wound. “It’s not deep. But we need to move before—”

The distant sound of sirens cut through the night.

Too late.

Dunk cursed. “Cops? That fast?”

Joong’s jaw tightened. “No. Someone called them in advance.”

This wasn’t just an ambush.

It was a setup.

Someone wanted them out of the way.

Dunk groaned. “Okay, love to analyze that later, but—EXIT, P’Joong. WHERE?”

Joong assessed the options.

Front door? Cops.

Back door? Blocked.

Roof access? Risky.

But no choice.

“Up.”

Dunk blinked. “Up?”

Joong was already running.

Dunk sighed, following. “Why is it always climbing?”

They scrambled onto the fire escape, hauling themselves onto the roof.

As they disappeared into the night, Joong’s mind raced.

This wasn’t just a warning.

It was a message.

-------

Santa & Perth

The Bangkok night was alive—streetlights flickering, the hum of late-night traffic, the occasional chatter from 24-hour food stalls.

To anyone watching, Santa and Perth were just another pair of professionals heading home.

But Santa felt it.

The weight of someone’s eyes on his back.

And when he felt that?

It usually means trouble.

---

The First Sign

Perth, walking beside him, didn’t turn his head.

Instead, his fingers tapped against his phone screen.

Santa recognized it immediately.

Morse code.

3 o’clock. Gray coat. Moving with us.

Santa stretched his arms, yawning dramatically. “You ever get the feeling someone’s really into you?”

Perth didn’t react, still scrolling his phone. “Not really. Unlike you, I don’t attract idiots.”

Santa smirked. “Sounds like jealousy.”

Perth exhaled. “Focus, dumbass.”

Santa let out a hum, adjusting his jacket. "How many?"

Perth’s fingers tapped again.

Three.

Santa clicked his tongue. “Persistent.”

Perth glanced at a shop window reflection. “Not attacking. Just watching.”

Santa grinned. "Great. Let’s give them a show, then."

---

A Game of Distraction

✔ Step 1: Change the pace

Instead of walking faster, they slowed down.

Santa veered into a 7-Eleven. Perth followed.

✔ Step 2: Make them adjust

Santa loitered by the drinks, pulling out an overpriced energy drink. “Think Sky would hate this?”

Perth gave him a look. “Sky already hates you.”

Santa snorted. “That’s fair.”

✔ Step 3: Expose the watchers

Perth’s eyes flickered toward the reflection in the fridge door.

Two of the tails hesitated.

Too long.

Gotcha.

---

Playing the Game

Santa turned to the cashier, grinning. “Hey, man, do you guys take foreign currency? I only have Euros.”

The cashier blinked. “Uh… no?”

Santa snapped his fingers. “Damn. Guess I’ll owe you a date then.”

Perth, behind him, sighed loudly. “Santa, for f—”

Santa winked at the cashier, then casually tapped his ring on the counter.

A signal.

✔ Security cameras inside the store—recording their tails.

✔ Angles perfect to catch them standing outside.

✔ Now they have evidence.

Perth, watching the reflection, smirked. “They don’t like waiting.”

Santa grinned. “Neither do I.”

---

They left the store—but took a sharp turn into an alley. Footsteps followed.

Santa rolled his shoulders. "How long until they realize we’re leading them?"

Perth’s voice was calm. "They already did. They’re waiting now."

Santa tilted his head. “…Waiting?”

Perth’s expression darkened. “They’re not chasing. They’re seeing where we go.”

A cold realization settled in.

This wasn’t an attack.

It was surveillance.

Santa clicked his tongue. “…They’re studying us.”

Perth nodded. “They’re after more than just Nani.”

---

Sending the Emergency Signal

Perth discreetly activated their emergency comms. Encrypted distress signal—silent, coded, but urgent. One message.

Targeted. Being tracked. No attack. Someone’s gathering intel.

Santa exhaled, cracking his neck. "Well. Now they know we know."

Perth checked his phone. "Now we see if that changes their approach."

------

Sky and Nani

The warehouse loomed ahead, a hollowed-out shell of what it once was. The scent of damp concrete and rust filled the air, mixing with the faint trace of something… older. Something that had been buried in time.

Nani stood at the threshold, his fingers lightly grazing the doorway. His pulse was steady, but his mind wasn’t.

He knew this place.

Not in the way one recalls an old school or a childhood home.

This was the kind of familiarity that lived in muscle memory. The kind that lingered long after it should have faded.

Sky, standing beside him, studied him carefully. "You recognize this place."

It wasn’t a question.

Nani nodded slowly, stepping forward. "I think so." His voice was quiet, measured. "But it’s... hazy."

Sky didn’t press. He simply followed as Nani led them inside.

The space was silent. Too silent. The air thick with something unspoken.

Dust clung to every surface, but not in the way of a place left forgotten. No, this was deliberate. Staged. A place meant to look untouched when it wasn’t.

Something here had been wiped clean.

Sky knelt near a stack of broken crates, running his fingers along the wood. "These were moved recently."

Nani’s eyes flickered to the faded symbol burned into the surface. The mark was old, but he knew it. His stomach twisted.

Sky caught the shift in his expression immediately. "Talk to me."

Nani hesitated. Then—"This place was used for shipments. Dirty money. Drugs. Weapons." His fingers curled slightly. "I didn’t handle them myself, but I was… close enough."

Sky’s jaw tightened. "And now someone’s cleared it out."

Nani nodded. "Like they knew we’d come looking."

And that was the moment they both felt it.

That prickle at the base of the neck.

That shift in the air when you’re no longer alone.

Sky’s hand drifted toward his holster. "We’re being watched."

Nani exhaled sharply, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know."

A faint sound—a scuff against metal, too careful, too controlled—echoed from somewhere above them.

Sky didn’t react, didn’t look up immediately. Instead, he moved smoothly, pretending to examine another crate, while his other hand rested on his gun.

Someone was here.

Someone who had been here longer than them.

Nani's breath slowed, his fingers itching toward his own weapon.

He was about to signal to Sky when—

Their comms crackled to life.

A sharp burst of static, then—

"Santa to Sky—We’re being watched. Not attacked yet, but they’re tracking us. Multiple unknowns."

Sky’s expression hardened instantly. "Confirm location." His voice was steady, but Nani could hear the slight edge behind it.**

Santa’s voice was clipped. "Near the financial district. We’re sending details now."

But before they could process that—another alert cut through.

"Joong to HQ—We’re compromised. Under attack. Need extraction—NOW."

Nani’s pulse spiked. "Shit."

Sky didn’t hesitate. He grabbed his radio, his voice sharp. "Status?"

A muffled scuffle came through the line—gunfire.

Nani’s gut twisted.

Joong’s voice returned, breathless but steady. "We’re outnumbered. Three hostiles confirmed. Dunk’s hit—nothing fatal, but we’re pinned."

Nani’s breath caught. Dunk was hit.

Sky’s jaw was locked, his mind already moving a mile a minute. Two emergency signals. No time.

They had to move.

Nani turned to him. "What’s the call?"

Sky’s gaze flickered—just for a second—toward Nani. Measuring. Calculating.

Then, his expression hardened with resolve.

-----

Sky’s mind was already locked into action mode. No hesitation. No second-guessing.

He turned sharply to Nani. "Get in the car. Now."

Nani didn’t argue.

They moved fast, slipping out of the warehouse and into the black SUV. The moment Sky turned the key, the tires screeched against the pavement, launching them forward into the night.

The tension inside the car was thick, but controlled. Tactical. Calculated.

Nani’s hands were curled into fists against his thighs. "Joong and Dunk need help." His voice was tight, conflicted.**

Sky’s grip on the wheel tightened. "And you need protection."

Nani turned sharply toward him. "I can fight."

Sky’s jaw clenched. "Not this time."

------

Sky’s knuckles were white against the steering wheel. His jaw was set, his mind already running calculations.

How fast could he get to Joong and Dunk?

How outnumbered were they? How badly did Dunk hurt?

But beside him, Nani was unraveling.

Nani had always been calm. Collected. Even in chaos, he knew how to move.

But this—this was different.

Because this wasn’t just about him anymore.

His team—his people—were in danger.

And Sky was about to go into that fire alone.

-----

The Breaking Point

Nani’s hands gripped the dashboard.

"You can’t go alone."

Sky didn’t even glance at him. "I can and I will."

Nani’s chest tightened. "Then I’m coming with you."

Sky slammed the brakes. The SUV skidded to a hard stop outside the convenience store where Santa and Perth were waiting.

Sky reach for his hand holding it—firm, unyielding.

Nani turned sharply, his breath coming fast. "Let go."

Sky didn’t.

Instead, he looked at him, and really looked at him.

And what he saw made his grip tighten.

Because for the first time, Nani wasn’t just angry.

He was scared.

Not for himself. For his team....for Sky.

Sky exhaled, his voice quieter. "I need you to trust me, Nani."

Nani’s pulse pounded. His fingers curled into a fist beneath Sky’s grip. "And if you don’t come back?"

Sky didn’t blink. "Then you’ll know I went down fighting for my team."

Nani gritted his teeth. "That’s not funny."

Sky’s gaze softened—just a fraction. "I wasn’t joking."

---

Santa and Perth had been watching from a distance, but now, they saw it.

The way Sky’s hold on Nani lingered.

The way Nani didn’t pull away, even though he should have.

The way something between them was shifting—too strong to ignore.

Santa nudged Perth with his elbow. "Okay. I know I joke about them, but… this is different, right?"

Perth hummed, eyes thoughtful. "Sky’s never looked at anyone like that before."

Santa smirked. "And Nani’s never let anyone hold him back before."

Perth’s gaze flickered. "He is now."

Santa tilted his head. "Guess we should keep an eye on them, huh?"

Perth didn’t answer.

Because he already knew—they didn’t need to.

---

The Final Decision

Sky kept the engine running. He turned to Nani. "You stay with them. No exceptions."

Nani’s lips pressed into a thin line. "Sky—"

Sky reached over, fingers gripping Nani’s wrist firmly. "Trust me."

Nani swallowed. His pulse skipped. Sky’s hand was warm, grounding, even through the heat of adrenaline.

Finally, he exhaled.

"Fine."

Sky nodded, letting go. "Keep him safe." His voice was directed at Santa, but his eyes lingered on Nani for a second longer.**

Then—he was gone.

The SUV roared back into the night, leaving Nani standing between Santa and Perth.

Santa let out a low whistle. "Damn. That was... something."

Perth’s eyes followed the disappearing taillights. "He’s going alone?"

Nani’s chest felt too tight. He exhaled, forcing himself to focus.

"Yeah."

Santa hummed, tossing an arm lazily around Nani’s shoulders. "Well. Guess we better make sure his efforts weren’t wasted, huh?"

Nani let out a breath, steadying himself.

Sky would handle Joong and Dunk.

And he would trust him to make it back.

Even if something inside him twisted at the thought.