21: gas

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"What the fuck?"

The leech tore his lips from Taehyung's jawline as he heard his colleague shout, eyes wide and mouth half-open. He was about to reprimand him for the interruption but before he could even move his tongue, a thick pain wracked through his skull and he passed out against the back of the chair.

His friend, the blondie, started fussing and straining against the restraints. Taehyung pouted at the baton-bearing Jungkook to the side of the couch, furring his eyebrows and practically sulking before he remembered the conscious man.

"Oh yeah, I forgot," he snickered, snatching the unyielding stick from Jungkook's hand and lashing it down onto the gangster's head. Once the man fell limp against his buddy, the gambler jumped up and playfully struck his younger with the baton.

"Why did you come early?"

Namjoon, displaying immoral and fierce eyes, sauntered in, "he was jealous."

"Seriously?" Seokjin scuffled out of his hiding spot, "Your jealousy could have cost us a whole mission."

Hoseok stepped in carrying Minjun on his back, the youthful boy making sure his grasp on the mechanic's neck was strong due to Hoseok holding his crutch alternatively to his wounded knee.

Once the last gangster, Jimin, left the changing rooms and joined the others, each man wordlessly inspected the unconscious fools on the sofa.

"This is simpler than I thought-" Namjoon released a breathy laugh and massaged his chin- "Jungkook and I will take one each. Jimin, help Hoseok with the kid and let's just get home."

The central area of the bar was empty. As commanded by the leader, no caretakers turned up for their shifts to relieve the floors of their litter and scour the stickiness off of the bartop.

The lingering, acrid smell of sweat whirled around the group of men. It adhered to their clothes and penetrated each of their nostrils, sending unpleasant grimaces to their lips.

"God," Hoseok chuckled, "that's awful."

His comment went overlooked by the gangsters, the medic only receiving a bashful smile of acknowledgement from Minjun.

"Straight to the car, go."

Taehyung tossed the front doors open, being less than careful in letting them hammer against the walls. The bitter wind from outside slapped each man, washing the pungent odour behind them.

The men trampled out, slyly running until they stopped to the side of the black van. It sat waiting for them, ominously hiding a plethora of weapons and stolen goods in its trunk.

"H-Ho-Hoseok," Minjun fussed, teeth prattling as midnight surrounded him, "there's a man."

It wasn't just the mechanic who heard him, as Namjoon and Seokjin halted when the panicked words came from their hostage.

"Don't turn to look," Namjoon lowered his voice to an almost-silent murmur as he pretended to dig in his pockets with his free hand, "but, what direction?"

"I-In th-thuh, the—"

"Minjun, now," Hoseok urged, "seriously, spit it out!"

"The alley! I tuh-turned around when we left and huh-he was- was peeking," Minjun cried out.

That's when a clattering sound penetrated the anxious, frigid air.

Within seconds, the group of men were lost inside a cloud of scentless, white vapour. It submerged them and startled Jungkook into dumping his luggage - the knocked out man - onto the sidewalk.

Minjun clung onto Hoseok tighter than he could with such little strength, holding back vulnerable whimpers.

Seokjin wrapped an unnecessary yet protecting arm around both Taehyung and Jimin, holding them close behind him as he squinted - eyes straining as he tried to see what was going on.

"Ho-Hoseok, what's happening? Is this poi-poisonous?"

Hoseok tightened his hold on the quivering teenager, "no, just, shallow breaths Minjun. If it was poisonous we'd be down by now, I think... a distraction if anything."

"Shouldn't we ruh-run?"

"We can't chance splittin'," Jungkook muttered from his place in the huddled configuration of worried men. Namjoon dropped his unconscious to-be hostage onto the ground beside the other guy, praying that the well-equipped others would take them and go.

"Jinnie..." Taehyung yawned, "I'm tired, I- I can't, st—"

Taehyung fell forward against Seokjin's back, the elder hastily spinning and holding the boy up to prevent him from greeting the ground. Jimin, reaching across and rashly shaking the gambler, choked on a cry.

Not a minute later, Jungkook fell slack against the pathway.

"Wha-What—"

"Shhh, Minjun, just don't freak out on me."

Hoseok, although a dread was obvious in his rust-coloured eyes, stroked the boy's dark hair and held him close. He fought against a newfound lethargy in his head, bleary eyes looking for a place to harmlessly get the teenager.

As he felt himself sink, Hoseok pushed Minjun towards the nearest (standing) gangster.

"Look," Jimin told, gripping Minjun to keep him standing, "they're darts."

Minjun followed the man's gaze to Hoseok as he lay on the ground with a new graze on his face, dots of blood dribbling out of the collision zone. Just like the hacker had suggested, a red-tailed dart stuck out from his femur, sneakily thin.

"N-No," Minjun whined, "that means something buh-bad, J-Jim-Ah." He was caught off-guard when Jimin's grip on him became light and the teenager couldn't hold himself up.

The two of them collapsed, the last pair to fall.

The two of them collapsed, the last pair to fall

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