Heist in Seoul

The Bar

Strobe lights, electric kpop blaring over the speakers, and the stink of cigarettes mixed with cologne....what on earth would i be doing ina hostess club in downtown Seoul, Korea? The memory of being in the missions room of the American Ninja Academy came to mind.

"An infamous art thief is believed to be getting ready to hit Korea next. He's been to practically every big name city in Asia and has stolen dozens of priceless paintings," the ninja councilwoman explained, "the Academy is being offered a handsome reward if any of our graduates are able to track him down and bring him to justice. I have decided to send you, Tara."

I immediately bowed in gratitude. "What do I have to do?"

"Well, the thief is believed to be a man, so we were thinking that you could go undercover and use your feminine charms to capture him." A part of me had wanted to laugh.  Feminine charms? Me? Did she realize who she was speaking to? I had no way with men! "Why not send Lorinda instead?" I protested, "She's better at that kind of thing than me!" My sister, who was also there in the missions room, rolled her eyes. " I'm married now, remember?" she had said, "and besides, your Korean is a lot better than mine. You can do this, Tara. You're more charming than you think."

I'm not sure if charming was the right word, more like, constricted. I was wearing a shiny red dress which was so tight that it was like being wrapped in cellophane. I cringed upon seeing my reflection in an empty champagne glass.  Burgandy lipstick and smoky eyeshadow was certainly not my style, but it worked for the part that I was playing. I turned to gaze over the crowd of people that was beginning to spread out across the lounge area.  The men who came to the club seemed to be the usual sort, older men just getting off of work for the weekend. Most of them were surrounded by hostesses, laughing and pouring drinks, but none of them looked like the man that I was waiting for. I had received a tip from a fellow academy graduate that the criminal mastermind often frequented this bar on Friday nights. He was described as being a loner who never requested a hostess to sit with him, but was known for being a generous tipper, so the club was aways eager to have him. 

My eyes scanned the dimly lit room until they fell on  a man with slicked back blonde hair, wearing a long, patent leather black coat and tinted black shades, sitting alone in corner booth. That had to be him! As smoothly as I could, I sauntered up over to where he was, trying my best to emulate the mannerisms of the hostesses. He didn't even notice me until I flirtatiously tugged on his collar. 

"Hey handsome, buy a girl a drink?"  The stranger slid down the booth, gesturing for me to sit next to him. 

"I've never seen you here before. I would have remembered someone as cute as you. Come here often?"

"Only when my job allows for it," came his velvety smooth reply, "In my line of work, I'm seldom in one place for very long, so I don't often get a chance to make friends."

I attempted a coquettish smile. "Your job sounds very lonely."

The man, who was surprisingly rather good looking, smiled back softly. "It can be," he said, "now, what drink would you like, Miss--?"

"Bianca," I proclaimed. I couldn't possibly give my real name if I wanted to go undercover.

"Bianca," he repeated. 

"And your name is?" I prodded. 

"The people closest to me call me Z; I'd be much obliged if you would call me that as well."

So, that was his moniker. I leaned back unto the leather upholstery, satisfied with my new finding.  "We're already on a first name basis. We'll be good friends in no time."

Z gestured to a waiter and ordered a bottle of champagne with two tall glasses on a gold tray. When the waiter brought the tray, I took the glass eagerly, but I had no intention of drinking its contents. Any shinobi worth his salt knew better than to consume alcohol on a mission. A drunk ninja made for a clumsy ninja, and I could not afford any slip ups.  When the blond man had turned away, I opened the small orb on my necklace to pour a powder into my glass; it was a harmless chemical compound that would nullify the effects of the alcohol.  Swirling the glass around until it dissolved, I took a sip.

Z draped his arm around my shoulder and we began to talk as if we had known each other for years. As we drank more, I could feel the mood changing. He was becoming more and more drunk, his words slurring to the point where it was hard to interpret his Korean. All of a sudden he pulled me closer, until his face was a few inches from mine. "How about we get away from this crowd, huh?" came the low growl. Here was my chance.

"I'd love to," I exclaimed, doing my best to appear intoxicated. "I want to hear more about this exciting job of yours."  The blonde man smirked, in a rather attractive way. He paid for our drinks and he called for taxi, and just like that we were heading for his hotel. He was surprisingly polite for a criminal mastermind who had just gone through two bottles of champagne. He didn't try anything on the ride over to hotel, but I expected that once we got there it might be a completely different story. 

When we arrived at the Seoul Luxury Inn, Z checked in with the desk clerk and we rode the elevator up. He could barely stand up by himself. I sighed, attempting to drape one of his long arms over my shoulder. The art thief was probably too out of it to answer any of my questions, and most likely would have no memory of us meeting, but that was fine. At least now I knew where he was staying. We arrived on his floor and Z led us down the hall to his room, stumbling all the way. He fumbled with the key for a moment and then I found myself inside what appeared to be a one room apartment. The tall blonde resident went to the bathroom for a moment, leaving me to look around. It was an immaculate space, with a mini kitchen bar and the bedroom area raised on a platform. I hurriedly locked the door to the suite and dimmed the lights. When he returned, Z had changed into a white button down shirt and gray slacks, his black sunglasses hanging from his unbuttoned collar. He looked as if he had stepped right out of a page of GQ Magazine, but I shook the thought out of my head.  This was no time for such observations.

"Sorry to disappoint you," I said coldly, as he sat down on the wide bed, buttoning the sleeve cuffs, " But I'm here strictly on business. So let's cut to chase, shall we?"

The handsome Korean man chuckled, displaying two rows of perfect teeth. "You want in on the next heist, don't you?"

I blinked. "How did y--"

"You're not the only one who was pretending to be drunk. Besides, your name wasn't on the club's roster, and since you're clearly not an employee, it's obvious you were there waiting for me." 

He had me. "Y-yes," I stammered, "I want in."

He crossed his arms, giving me a sort of once over. "What kind of skills do you have?"

"Stealth operations and weapons technology, and I also have a black belt in karate. I underwent training as a bodyguard for a while, but I decided not to pursue that career path anymore."

"I see. Not enough money in that business, is there? Well, as luck would have it, I do find myself in need of someone with your unique talent." Z pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket, and spread it out over the nearby nightstand. It was a map with several different buildings Xed out, with only one location circled: the Seoul National Museum of Art History. "This will be our next stop."

"Our?" I said, "does that mean you accept me as your partner?"

"If all goes well with this plan, then yes," the tall thief stood up, reaching out his hand for me to shake. "Welcome aboard, Miss Bianca. I'll go over the details in the morning, but as for now I will leave you to get some rest. I booked this room for you, mine is on another floor of the hotel. I bid you goodnight." The mysterious man bowed courteously, and exited through the suite, leaving me to star dreamily after him, rather dazed and anxious about what the events this heist would unfurl.