Chapter Text
Chay can’t deny that he enjoys working a desk job for the Special Operations Unit at the precinct. A sentence that he never thought he would ever utter in his lifetime.
He had been hired as one of two operations specialists for their agency, cracking secure systems, decrypting codes, and tracking down targets.
Somehow, his role had shifted to the more mundane, often transcribing reports, organizing files, and even an odd coffee run here and there. Though his job might not be all the eventful, for the most part, he had to admit that a government job had good benefits and even paid reasonably well with an endless supply of caffeine.
Plus, barely anybody—besides his brother— tried to talk to him for more than two minutes if it wasn’t to order him to file some paperwork or look for some old evidence that had been stored away months ago.
Clocking in at eight in the morning and clocking out by five right on the dot while making enough to keep himself afloat and well-fed was more than he could have imagined as a child.
He even has enough left over at the end of the month to still indulge in his hobbies, making the job not half-bad. Honestly, in this economy, he was pretty sure that the work-life balance he was given was everyone’s wet dream.
Working with Porsche was also a benefit.
The office might not be the beachfront bar they had once dreamed about opening together, but he was happy he could see his brother at work almost daily. Still, he would never fully admit that lest he wanted to risk Porsche bursting into tears, given that he has become an emotional sap since he finished university. It would only leave him scrambling.
He was good at calming down an angry Porsche, but a teary one…
He had very little experience with handling him.
Even if Porsche was the toughest guy in the division, Chay was still his weak spot. Thanks to Ohm, the only other operation specialist hired to keep the office afloat, this little fact spread around the office like wildfire.
He couldn’t complain if he were being truly honest since he’s mostly convinced that it’s because of Porsche that the others gave him so much respect and barely ever sent him out to run needless errands, even when it would technically fall under his job description. Those tasks fell onto Ohm instead, and a little part of him couldn’t help but laugh at the thought that his friend had brought it onto himself.
Some might call him a glorified secretary, but he was more than happy being so.
He didn’t have to risk his life, like Porsche did, out on the field.
He didn’t want to see the violence upfront and personally. He had already seen more than enough of it throughout his childhood.
No matter how hard he tried, he could never forget the way their creditors had beaten his uncle until he had been near death or the way their lewd eyes used to always give Chay a look-over. The moment he hit puberty, they always acted as if they were trying to calculate his worth—just in case their Uncle decided his life was next to be gambled off.
His childhood gave him more ‘field action’ than he ever needed to see in his lifetime.
It was bad enough having his brother out on the field. He could barely keep it together when he saw Porsche return all battered and bruised after any of his particularly difficult missions.
Each time he found himself going over to Porsche’s with a bag filled with ointments and bandages, he couldn’t help but ponder how little had changed since their youth. The anxiety that would eat him up from the inside out on the nights that Porsche would take a little longer than usual working one of his many jobs never entirely disappeared.
If anything, the constant unknown status of Porsche’s operations continued to chip away at him. He knew that this line of job had more agents coming in than retiring out. The danger that Porsche put himself through would never sit well with him.
Funnily, the instinct of patching him up had never really left Chay, even after Yok had pulled them out of their misery. Like clockwork, Chay would take care of his brother at the end of every mission, just like he had when Porsche would return from an illegal match.
The routine came naturally to him.
Gloves on. Disinfect. Irrigate if needed. Lather some triple antibiotic ointment. Bandage.
The steps were a familiar dance, one that gave him a semblance of control within the chaos that they lived in.
It used to be a good day if Chay didn’t find himself surfing through the internet, looking for any somewhat reliable tutorial on stitching a flesh wound. At least nowadays, Porsche’s stitches were done by an actual doctor. However, even with the help of a professional doctor that the department kept on staff, Chay couldn’t help but fuss and care for his brother.
They had lived in survival mode alone for far too long.
Ironically, even with their newly found financial security, not much had changed from back then, unlike what he used to dream about. Porsche was always putting himself at risk, while Chay stayed safe within the three cubicle walls that surrounded him, waiting to see in what state his brother would return.
Maybe, to some degree, they were both born and bred to exist within the violence. It was a bitter truth, one that Chay had come to accept reluctantly.
The stakes were always too high, the dangers too real. By the time they were in their teens, the world had already shaped them into what they were, and no amount of money or security could erase their past.
Even so, he was more than happy to keep as much distance as possible from the savagery the underground brought forth while still doing what he could to help. His brother had trained him more than enough to stand on his own and keep himself protected, but he was empathetic to a fault. He chose to keep away from the field, especially since he was much more of an asset with a computer.
Being out, in the field, was definitely not for him.
That had always been Porsche’s lane.
Still, Chay did his part, supporting Porsche and the rest of the agents in any way that he could. Logistics and data played a small role in the grand scheme of things, but it kept him a part of Porsche’s world, even if it meant staying in the shadows and far from the front lines.
So, when Ohm lets him know that he’s been called into Yok’s office, he had no idea of what possible reason she would have to want to see him at her office.
There were only two reasons staff members were ever called into her personal office: someone was about to be deployed on a mission or reprimanded. Yok’s office was a place where only agents with sufficient clearance were able to enter. Frankly, Chay was so down the totem pole when it came to office hierarchy, and he never had any real reason to be called into her office for any official business other than a coffee run or some paper filings that needed to get done
Chay was confident that he hadn’t missed any deadlines. He had even had the time to submit another report on the latest movements of the Italians, organizing all the intel documents that had been collected on the recent ship imports. Plus, he even made sure to put three sugars in her iced vanilla latte with coconut milk, just as she had required every morning.
Or did he put two…?
Yok had never been so unreasonable before as to reprimand him for not getting her order correctly. If anything, she had a not-so-secret soft spot for him after having seen him grow up from the emaciated, lanky teen that he used to be.
Having been practically raised by her did give him and his brother some advantages.
Before becoming the director of the branch that he and Porsche worked for, she had been the second detective in charge of their parents’ murder case. By the time she had been assigned to them, their uncle had already run away after draining their accounts, and Porsche had already spent a few years fighting underground to get by.
Maybe she had pitied them, or maybe she knew that they would have been worse off under the care of social services, but Yok would always conveniently have too many groceries that would go bad if they were just left in her apartment.
It wasn’t long before she started stocking their refrigerator with veggies and meats that they had only been able to dream about with the little Porsche would earn. She even sent both of them to college. Her generosity extended beyond ensuring their mere survival. Yok became the closest thing that they had to a mother.
Though they had always minimized any familiarity beyond that of a director-subordinate during work hours.
As he approached her office, the tension in the air was palpable. The closer he got, the clearer it became that his brother was in there with her. Porsche’s voice boomed within the small office, obviously agitated.
Whatever discussion they were having seemed serious, which only worried him even more.
Unless Yok had found some more information regarding the runaway driver that had killed their parents, there was hardly ever a reason for both of them to be called simultaneously into her office. Porsche and he only crossed paths in the workplace when reports needed to be drafted or he needed Porchay to dig up some information on a suspect.
Chay’s mind raced with possibilities as he neared her door. He couldn’t help but take a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever awaited inside, before his brother’s voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Yok, you know that we appreciate everything that you’ve done for us, but sending Porchay in? He’s had no formal training.” Porsche sounded more than exasperated. “I only ever taught him the basics. How do you expect him to survive in there, especially when he has so little to go off of when it comes to Kimhant?”
Yok’s calm demeanor contrasted sharply against his brother’s own. “I know you taught him how to handle a gun. I heard he’s got one hell of a shot.”
“Where did you even get that information?” Porsche’s voice steeled, almost cold and defensive.
It had been long since Chay had heard his brother use that tone, having been usually reserved only for the debt collectors that came knocking looking for their Uncle.
“Even if, and that’s a big if, I had, we’d be putting him in unnecessary danger. Just send me in instead; it’s not like the Theerapanyakuls have ever seen my face.”
“Next time, tell Chay not to take Ohm with him the next time he goes to the gun range to blow off steam.” She said with a touch of amusem*nt breaking through, “He might be great at hacking into locked, secret files, but he’s terrible at keeping anything he deems ‘awesome’ a secret.”
He sucked in his breath, his heart sinking as he listened. Ohm had promised to keep it quiet when he had invited him to the range before hitting the bar. He should have known that his friend, though well-meaning, probably had the loosest lips in the office.
She sighed before continuing, “The Theerapanyakuls are dangerous. I know that—I do—but this would be surveillance. In a couple of weeks, you’d have Chay back, and we would finally know at least a little more about the Theerapanyakuls, who Kimhant is, and his role in all this. He would likely never even come into direct contact with him.”
Chay has never been one for eavesdropping, much less when he was the center of discussion, but he recognized that last name. Just the name was enough to send a shiver down his spine and leave him hesitant, unsure whether to enter.
The Theerapanyakuls were an impenetrable force of a family with their hands deep in the underbelly of the city. Their unit had been working on the case against them for years, and the last agent had gotten the closest out of everyone to uncover the actual inner workings of the Theerapanyakul mafia before things headed south.
“If there’s no actual contact, I can go in his place.”
Yok scoffed, “Porsche, you know I appreciate you for all your years in the service, but every cell in your being yells trained cop. You saw what they did to Tawan after they sniffed him out. You saw the sheer number of bullets they put in him the moment that they suspected that he was an undercover cop.”
“Which is exactly why Chay has no business being in there, Yok.”
She slowed down her words, each one measured and deliberate, “We were lucky that we were able to save Tawan. I can’t risk them doing the same to you, not when they might have known about your involvement with Tawan’s survival.”
“I had my face covered; our whole squad did,” Porsche’s voice rose slightly, “They wouldn’t even know that I had anything to do with the rescue. This wouldn’t be the first time I went undercover.”
“Yes, but you know how the Theerapanyakuls work.” Yok countered, “They likely already know who was sent in for that rescue mission. Even one of us could be on their payroll, and we wouldn’t know it. Porchay, on the other hand, is just a secretary for the unit. Nobody would even think to look into him.”
“Do you hear yourself? We’re talking about Chay, the kid you helped me rai—”
“Which is why I know exactly what he’s capable of, Porsche,” Yok interrupted firmly, her tone leaving no room for further debate.
Chay couldn’t help but knock, letting his presence be known as he poked his head into Yok’s office. He intentionally interrupted Porsche before he could raise his voice even louder to the direct boss he reports to. Even though Yok had a soft spot for them, it wouldn’t be an excellent look for Porsche to be heard questioning her decisions in the middle of their office building.
He’d heard enough to piece together the gist of what the meeting was about.
Tawan. Undercover. Theerapanyakul.
Tawan’s failure was taboo to even whisper about around the office. His emergency extraction from the Theerapanyakul compound had turned bloodier than they had anticipated.
Porsche had been at the forefront of crewing the mission of getting him out alive.
Truthfully, if it hadn’t been Porsche leading the rescue team, Chay’s not sure that Tawan would have survived the torture that they had been putting him through. The very explicit details of the state where Tawan had been found had been burned into his mind with every click of his keyboard as he wrote the incident report.
Hearing his name in the same sentence as the Theerapanyakuls and Tawan was not something he had ever wanted to hear.
It really didn’t bode well for him.
Not when Porsche was worked up enough to be practically yelling at the woman who raised them out of poverty. Especially not when she’s currently their boss, signing both their paychecks.
If he were truthful, he would admit that a part of his brain wanted him to clock out immediately and run away, yet the more rational part of him made him stay put with his feet firmly planted on the ground. Despite the nagging urge to flee, Chay was determined to hear Yok out and understand why she wanted him—of all people—to infiltrate such a dangerous faction.
“Ohm said you wanted to see me?” Chay attempted a sheepish smile, hoping to diffuse some of the tensions that filled the room as he peeked inside.
“Come in, come in. I was talking to Porsche about why I called you in today,” Yok shot Porsche a warning glance before continuing, “I can’t say that he’s particularly happy about it, but I wanted to discuss it with you as well before we made any decision.”
“I could hear bits and pieces of it,” Chay admitted with a nervous chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m assuming it has something to do with you wanting me to be somehow the one to infiltrate the Theerapanyakuls? Porsche is completely against it, isn’t he?”
“Maybe I should be soundproofing my office if you already heard all that, but simply put, yes,” Yok mused wryly, a faint smile playing on her lips.
Chay couldn’t resist motioning towards his older brother, who currently found himself sprawled across the gray couch in her office, “Sorry, Yok, I don’t think even the most expensive soundproof could block my brother’s voice when he gets irritable.” He offered a smile, even though Porsche’s disapproving gaze burned a hole in the back of his neck.
“Kidding,” he quickly added, half-jokingly acknowledging Porsche, “Mostly.”
“I just don’t think you’re the right person to go on this mission, Chay,” Porsche interjected with exasperation. “You’ve never even been trained to be on the field, and now they want to send you to one of the most dangerous families?”
"Well, we wouldn't put him with Kinn. We just need him to gather as much information as he can on the ground, see if he can find anything more about Kimhant."
“You know that we would do anything for you, Yok,” Porsche continued, his voice earnest yet equally frustrated, “You helped us after we lost our parents, but even this favor is too much.”
“I wouldn’t ask this of you two if I wasn’t running out of options. The Theerapanyakuls are getting more control of the city with each day that passes, and more than half of the country’s politicians are on their payroll. Meanwhile, ever since Kinn Theerapanyakul shot Tawan, we have little to knowledge on their moves with the Itali—”
“Tawan’s situation was a fluke.’ Porsche cut in sharply, adamant, “He got too co*cky. We always knew that his ego was a liability. It was just a matter of time. I understand the risks. I’m more than confident that I can pass as one of Kinn’s lackeys that he loves to f*ck around with. I can get close.”
Unconsciously, Porchay grabs at his own sleeves, tugging albeit nervously, and shakes his head at his brother. No matter how much he liked to keep his hands clean, he’d do anything if it meant that Porsche wouldn't land himself in the hospital like Tawan had.
He trusted Yok. There had to be a reason that she thought he was the better option.
“The last we had on the Italians was that they had sent in a night ship to dock. You were there to intercept it. You were the one to give me the report to write up, hia. What if they already recognize you?” Chay continued, his voice tinged with concern, before directing himself to Yok once more, “Walk me through this. How would I even get close enough to infiltrate the Theerapanyakuls?”
Yok slid a thin file across her desk.
It was unfamiliar, not one that had crossed his desk. He couldn't help but wonder if Ohm had been the one to prepare it.
If Ohm had known what this meeting was about and failed to give him at least a warning, he's definitely going to throw his stapler at the back of his head.
“You’d be taking on a new identity. The higher-ups have already slowly started to clear out all information on your current identity so that the Theerapanyakuls could never track you down and connect you with the force.”
“Does that mean that I would cease to exist?” He flipped through the documents, raising an eyebrow as he came across his new name.
Chay Thanakorn Prathipsit.
“For now,” Yok explained carefully, “Currently, ‘Porchay’ is listed as having deceased when he was just five during the same car accident that took his parents. And, as you know, ever since Porsche entered the special unit division, much like the rest of the team, he had all his official documents stripped of identifying information.”
“Yok!” Porsche raises his voice, jumping up as she breaches on the sensitive subject of their parents.
Chay couldn’t but muse to himself that he hadn’t seen his brother be so indignant since the night he came back home all bruised and battered after an illegal fight that he had been told to throw.
“Meanwhile, Chay has been an orphan all his life, left at the door of a temple in Chiang Mai," she continued.
“So, I’m essentially myself, but—not?”
“We needed to give you a similar enough story that it’d be convincing if they interrogated you,” Yok explained. “There’s not enough time to train you in acting skills, so the chief thought it would be best if we made Chay’s background similar to yours. We need to make sure that the Theerapanyakul won’t be able to trace you back to us. Once you’re extracted, all your information will be re-entered into the system, and you can go back to living normally as Porchay Pichaya Kittisawat.”
He wasn’t sure when he had started gripping the small file so roughly— his knuckles were almost purely white.
Unconsciously, he found himself flipping through the file, absorbing the details of his new identity while reading aloud the information listed.
“Chay. Age 23. Used to be a teenage runaway, but now works for one of Theerapanyakul’s brothels on the outskirts of Bangkok—”
“He’d work where?” Porsche raised an eyebrow, barely masking the slight disgust in his voice.
“We have a contact, Tee, in one of the largest plants from the Theerapanyakuls. He can slip Porchay in while making it look like he’s the newest recruit off the streets, ready to service their clients.” Yok replied firmly, raising her hand to stop whatever retort Porsche had been about to make. “Rumor is that this brothel is the youngest son’s ring he runs. Out of the three brothers, he’s the least we know about. If we want to take down their ring, we must understand the degree to which each of the brothers are involved.
Yok clicks away on her desktop, pulling up a grid showing the information that they’d been able to collect on Anakinn, Tankhun, and Korn throughout the years, yet there was little information on the youngest, Kimhant.
Just a simple byline with his full name filled the blank space on the screen.
"The only thing that we know, even though we're not even completely sure, is that he's around your age, Porchay."
He couldn’t help but find it a little funny that they expect him—of all people—to track Kimhant somehow down when they don’t even have a picture or any information on his appearance.
“So, I’d be prostituting myself for the sake of the mission?” Porchay commented dryly.
“Tee would make it look like you’d be servicing clients, but you’d be booked with some other agents that are undercover as clients. Any information you gather at The Knights about Kimhant will be reported to them.”
Porchay hummed in acknowledgment as he flipped through the file, only stopping when he came across the modest place he would be staying in.
“At least you guys don’t have me living in a crack den,” he muttered louder than intended.
Thankfully, Yok graciously decided to ignore his comment and continued. “I can’t promise that this operation won’t be as dangerous as Tawan’s, but at the very least, you’d have a greater chance of making it out alive. We’ll make sure you have plenty of back-up and keep an eye on you. If things start going south, you’re to abandon the mission and we’ll extract you immediately.”
“So I just get closer and find out as much as possible about Kimhant Theerapanyakul? That’s it?”
When he summarized it so succinctly, he found himself more willing to take on the job than he had expected himself to be.
Yok had been kind enough to take both him and Porsche under her wing, caring for them so they wouldn’t be completely alone in the world with just each other to depend on.
If it had been anyone else, Chay would never have considered the mission. Porsche knew that as well.
They’d both do anything that Yok asked them to. They also knew that Yok must have been desperate to even ask this of him.
Yok nodded, her expression softening, “We would only carry out the mission as long as you feel comfortable. The moment you give us a sign that it’s unsafe, you’re out.”
She reached out to take the file back before looking between the two brothers, “Look, I know you two have a lot to discuss. Take a few days if you need to.”
Chay took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the decision settle on his shoulders. He nodded, steeling himself for the mission that would inevitably lay ahead.
Porsche placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, the gesture both comforting and grounding. Chay was sure his brother could see through the nonchalant mask he had opted to put on, but his mind had been made since the moment there had been a chance that they might send Porsche out.
The sacrifices, the late nights, the constant worry—all burdens that Porsche had shouldered alone.
This was Chay’s chance to finally repay Porsche for everything that he had done to raise him.
The mission was dangerous, but Chay was willing to take the risk if it meant keeping Porsche safe.
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As they left Yok’s office, the gravity of the situation began to sink in.
Whatever slight adrenaline that had rushed into his brain had already begun to drain out.
The Theerapanyakuls were not just any run-of-the-mill criminal organization. They were an impenetrable force with connections and power that extended far beyond what Chay had ever faced with the low-life thugs that had tormented his childhood.
It should have scared him.
It should have terrified him.
But that night, no matter how much Chay tried to ruminate and dissuade himself from taking the job, he became even more determined. He knew he could only chase away the ‘boogeyman’ of fear he lives with by confronting the danger head-on.
The trash that had tormented him growing up only existed because they knew that they had the protection of people like the Theerapanyakuls.
That thought didn’t settle well inside of him.
When Chay told Porsche about his decision, Porsche only asked quietly, voice laced with concern, “Are you sure about this, Chay?”
For the first time in what had felt like ages, Chay had looked up at his brother, seeing the worry etched into his features. He couldn’t help but wonder when the thin crow's feet around his brother’s eyes had begun to appear.
He forced a small smile, trying to project confidence that he didn’t quite fully feel, “I’m sure, Porsche. Besides, Yok wouldn’t have entertained the thought if she didn’t think I could handle it.”
“I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” Porsche sighed, his expression conflicted, “You’ve never been in the field before. This isn’t a game, Chay. The Theerapanyakuls are dangerous, and Kimhant… we know nothing about him. You couldn’t even find a picture of him when I asked for some information on him, in case we came across him during the mission to save Tawan.”
Fear should have been pulsing through his veins, hearing the reasonable rationale that Porsche was telling. When did he become the level-headed brother? And when did Chay become the irrational one?
“I know,” Chay replied, his voice steady. “But I’ve made up my mind. I can do this. Plus, I’ll have you as backup, right? Yok said you guys will be monitoring me, and if things go south, I’ll get out.”
Porsche sighed, his expression softening slightly. “Alright. Just promise me that you’ll be careful. No information is worth your life. If anything feels off, you get out. No hesitation.”
“I promise,” Chay said, meeting Porsche’s gaze, strengthening his resolve. “I’ll be careful. And I’ll come back. It’ll be me and you, like always.”
He knew that this mission was risky; he was not oblivious that he was scarily green. But he also knew that it was just a simple reconnaissance mission. He might not even find out anything about Kimhant. His task was to blend in, observe, and gather whatever information he could without raising any suspicion.
Really, what was the worst that could happen?
