🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 44
“Ha… this is the limit.”
Kim Do-woon pulled his upper body out from deep inside the reconnaissance plane’s co-pilot seat and exhaled, looking inside.
His face was blank with disbelief. Sweat gleamed on his forehead, which was revealed as he casually brushed back his hair.
He took off his insulated gloves and wiped his wet chin with the back of his hand, then gestured toward me.
I crawled back into the co-pilot seat. It didn’t seem much different from before, but I didn’t comment. Kim Do-woon probably knew better than anyone that there was no hope.
He dropped the wrench he had been holding onto the floor.
“I’ll press down a bit.”
Then he pressed his left hand onto my back. I curled my body, hugging my knees with my arms as tightly as he applied force.
I could feel Kim Do-woon pushing his upper body into the narrow space above my head, trying to see how much room was left behind the co-pilot seat with me inside.
“Bend a little more.”
As he squeezed in further, his solid upper body pressed firmly against my back. At the same time, the tendons in his right forearm tensed sharply as he gripped the safety bar above, seemingly trying not to put his full weight on me.
After a brief pause, Kim Do-woon pulled back and gestured for me to come out.
“This won’t work, right?”
Before I could even nod, he shouted downward.
“No more! Three people in a two-seater reconnaissance plane is impossible—”
“Move it!”
From beneath the maintenance lift, Jang Seok-joo, looking up with his neck craned, yelled angrily. Kim Do-woon sighed heavily.
“We even removed the data hub and recon modules. What else? Shall we take out the engine?”
“Then take off your head and ride it.”
“I’m not in the mood for jokes.”
“Then do it with that mindset.”
Damn, what do you want me to do? Kim Do-woon muttered under his breath while staring inside the reconnaissance plane.
The plane was smaller than expected. The interior was cramped even for two people, and of course, both Kim Do-woon and Baek Yi-hyun were large. I wasn’t short for a woman either.
For the three of us to squeeze inside, Kim Do-woon had been removing parts for several minutes to create space.
Even after removing the pilot and co-pilot seats and what seemed like crucial equipment, exposing the plane’s skeletal interior, the space was still painfully narrow.
Kim Do-woon stared briefly inside the plane, then decisively pulled the lever of the lift. The lift, carrying the plane, myself, Kim Do-woon, and the removed equipment, slowly descended with mechanical whirring.
Jang Seok-joo and a few other crew members quickly clung to the lift to look inside. Jang Seok-joo pointed at a large shelf-like structure.
“Take that off! We don’t need that rack.”
“It’s not just a rack. There’s a transformer inside.”
“The shield?”
“It’s not an independent module, so it can’t be removed.”
Jang Seok-joo cursed. Kim Do-woon jumped off the lift and extended his hand to me. I grabbed it and descended.
He looked at me and tapped his cheek lightly. I rubbed my own cheek and found black grease had smudged on it, likely from climbing in and out of the plane.
As I roughly wiped it off, Kim Do-woon squinted, grabbed his sleeve, and carefully wiped my cheek. He sighed.
“The C-type is at its limit. It was designed small for stealth from the start.”
“This is driving me crazy.”
Jang Seok-joo grabbed his head with both hands. His bloodshot eyes stared at the reconnaissance plane, stripped of parts and with wires dangling like vines.
Kim Do-woon brushed my face lightly and shrugged toward Jang Seok-joo.
“We’ll use Type A. Can’t be helped.”
“Type A will get caught by the Phantom when we lift off. You think the commander suggested C for no reason?”
“We’ll turn off the sensors before moving.”
Jang Seok-joo’s eyes widened.
“Can you do that?”
“If necessary, yes.”
“You’re really impressive.”
“This much I can handle.”
“Still modest. Not that I doubt your skill, but it’s old, and the sensors might fail. Stop standing there dumbly! Go prep A!”
With a sharp gesture, Jang Seok-joo signaled the crew. They rushed toward the Type A reconnaissance plane, fixed in one corner of the hangar. It was clearly larger than the plane they had been struggling with.
Jang Seok-joo threw the chart he had been holding onto the floor and cursed loudly.
“How is there not a single decent reconnaissance plane?!”
“People survived instead. If we’d abandoned the main hangar back then, we’d all be dead.”
“I don’t want to hear about three months ago. I asked several times for a reconnaissance plane, and the higher-ups didn’t listen…”
“How much time left?”
“One hour thirty, no, 28 minutes.”
“They’re coming.”
Kim Do-woon looked past Jang Seok-joo. Baek Yi-hyun had just entered the high hangar entrance. The faces of his aides trailing behind were stiff, already reading the room.
The sound of heavy boots echoed through the hangar, and the crew working on the Type A plane increased their speed.
Jang Seok-joo gritted his teeth, picking up the chart. Kim Do-woon looked at me and gestured. I silently went to his side and stood straight.
Baek Yi-hyun stopped in front of the lift. The boots of his aides fell silent, leaving a stillness that seemed to swallow all sound.
His calm gaze swept over the scattered tools, wires, and wrecked equipment on the lift floor, then landed on the skeletal interior of the C-type reconnaissance plane.
Just as Jang Seok-joo opened his mouth, Baek Yi-hyun spoke.
“Is the issue just the narrow interior?”
“Yes.”
Jang Seok-joo replied. Baek Yi-hyun then shifted his gaze from the plane to me. His dark pupils locked onto me without hesitation.
I tensed slightly, watching him scan my body dryly from head to toe before returning his attention to the reconnaissance plane.
Jang Seok-joo spoke quickly.
“We’ll have Type A on standby. If we move with the sensors off, the Phantom won’t detect us. It’s old and handling is rough, but with Second Lieutenant Kim Do-woon’s skill, it shouldn’t be a problem…”
Baek Yi-hyun clicked the fastener on his shoulder, and Jang Seok-joo stopped speaking, stepping aside quickly.
Baek Yi-hyun brushed his long, thick cloak smoothly from his uniform, handed it to an aide, and stepped onto the lift.
Everyone held their breath as he expertly lowered himself into the co-pilot seat of the reconnaissance plane.
He had to fold his long legs under the controls, but the co-pilot seat was enough for one person.
If Kim Do-woon sat in the pilot seat, two people would fit comfortably. But three? Impossible.
Baek Yi-hyun stayed still briefly, and just as it seemed he would give up, he called my name.
“Seol Ah-yeon.”
All eyes turned to me.
“Come in and sit on top of me.”
I blinked. Baek Yi-hyun’s instruction didn’t immediately make sense.
Kim Do-woon moved first. With a stiff but swift expression, he climbed the lift and extended his hand. I took it and climbed up.
Baek Yi-hyun leaned back to make room, but it was still cramped.
I lowered my upper body and pushed into the co-pilot seat. Kim Do-woon urgently pressed his hand over my head.
“Watch your head.”
His voice was low. I tilted my head to avoid hitting the entry. Facing my back to Baek Yi-hyun, I slid my legs under the controls.
“No, face me.”
Before I could understand, Baek Yi-hyun reached out, wrapped his arms around my waist, and pulled me fully into the plane, holding me close.
I reflexively tried to push back and lift my upper body, but he grabbed the back of my head, pressing it firmly to his neck.
My face was pressed against his ear; everything went dark.
“Careful with your head. The ceiling’s equipment is exposed, it’s dangerous.”
His voice barely reached me. A crisp winter scent wafted from him.
The thin frost on the windows, camellias dusted with snow, conifers glazed with frost—surprisingly cold, clean, familiar scents.
Dizziness hit, and I held my breath, repeating desperately to myself:
He’s not my friend. This is someone I don’t know. Same face, same voice, same scent… but not him.
The hand on my chest was cold with sweat.
“Hold me tight. Press fully against me. Only then won’t your feet touch the controls.”
