◗ financial block

@【 ᴠ 】chanyeol p。 Radio: The safe is broken into.

The air stilled inside the bulletproof radio transmitter vehicle, and if this weren’t the tens of his mission, Sehun would admit that it would have felt like the world was slowly swallowing him whole. It was now on him as his team waited with bated breaths for his following command.

“Roger.” He swallowed. The transmitter beeped.

“Team Falcon will focus on bringing civilians out of the bank. Wolf will be on standby at the second northeast exit. Shoot at sight. We don’t need them alive. Over.”

Radio: Roger. Over.

Then, he was on foot, running, a gun held with care in his hands to the first exit on the east. The roads were filled with tire spikes, two heavy-duty police vehicles equipped with grapplers. And that wasn’t all. A helicopter had been stationed right above the financial blocks, two snipers in tow, ready for any criminals fleeing through the air.

But Sehun went the opposite side of the squads, brushing against one padded agent to slip through the alley. If he had been correct — no — he was right; he would then be standing face to face with Ghost.

The puddles of dirty water broke his entrance as Sehun raised the gun in his hand, pulling the trigger. His gaze burned at the back of the male’s head in front of him. “Cut your magic trick short, Ghost. Take off your gears, and then put your hands up in there. You’re under arrest.”

@【 ᴄ 】sehun o。 The operation was simple enough, but Ghost had enough briefings that the details began to blur a bit. Regardless, he typically went with the flow during an operation. He'd use his judgement to adjust the plan if he needed to, but his powers made heists like this a breeze. Striking in the early morning hours just before the early bird shift workers arrived had the highest chance of success.

Upon arrival, Ghost noted little to no civilian presence; the typical drunkards were passed out on the benches on the sidewalk, and an occasional graveyard shift worker leaned against a tree smoking a cigarette could be spotted. Approaching the back of the bank, Ghost hesitated to use his abilities to conceal himself. What was life without a little risk? Perhaps his playful nature would turn to bite him in the , but with his villain attire, his civilian identity was concealed. After a few moments, his outward appearance began to disappear, both physically and in image. His molecules shifted to both phase through the wall while also morphing to appear transparent.

The faint glimmer of his invisibility could easily be written off as a glare on the camera from a car on the street, but once that glimmer began to pick up bags of money and remove them from the building, suspicions could be confirmed that there was more than meets the eye. Ghost moved as quickly as he could to take the money off of the bank's hands.

With his haul secured in the alleyway behind the bank, Ghost began loading his gains into the getaway vehicle, but he had taken a bit longer than he had originally intended. The sun was beginning to rise in the distance, and that meant civilians would be on their way within mere minutes. He began to speed up and dropped his invisibility for the sake of focus on the task at hand; however, the approaching footsteps had him come to a complete halt before turning to face the consequence of his actions. "Well, who do we have h-" His teasing inquiry stopped mid-sentence as the familiar form stood before him in front of the rising sun.

@【 ᴠ 】chanyeol p。 Radio: 10-2.

Radio: 10-12.

Radio: Fox. 10-20.

“Fox.” Sehun paused, the radio closed to his lips. “10-20. Monitor truck.”

Radio: 10-101. Target on the move?

“Negative.”

Radio: Copy. Over.

Monday mornings had always been primarily predictable. The beak calls of their nth-alarms would awaken the metropolitan area, and the roads will be filled with yellow school buses, one dollar coffee stalls busy putting the beans into the grinders. It would have been nice walking to the agency building with a cheap cup of coffee in his hand and a cinnamon roll in between his lips with a tall friend accompanying him on that short trip.

Except, Sehun was in his protective gears, gun tucked away inside of its holster.

His eyes darted over to the top monitor screens, lined close to each other, scanning through each corner, almost praying to see something darting into the middle of the screen.

It had been three months and four and a half days of instant coffee, cold, dry turkey sandwiches for dinner, paperwork, and meetings chasing after this syndicate. Informants after informants and basing off from these tips, he predicted the next hit would be here, right at the financial district.

And if everything went as planned, he would be back right on time to have dinner with his housemate.