2. New Mission #7
“Given that shoes are items that inevitably wear out over time, the gentleman must be quite affluent. People like him always want the best of everything. While everything we carry is excellent, some are truly in a league of their own. This one here is called Romeo y Julieta.
The flavor is dry yet rich, and the aroma has notes of damp earth, mushrooms, and honey.”
“The aroma was damp, but it didn’t have any earthy or mushroom-like notes. It had a hint of sweetness, but it wasn’t honey either.”
“If it wasn’t earthy, then that crosses off El Rey del Mundo as well. Did you smell burning wood? Or leather?”
“Yes, I think it was closer to a burning piece of wood. But not leather.”
“And was the scent spicy?”
“Uhm, no, not spicy.”
“There goes Montecristo, then. How was the body? Was it cylindrical and long? Or were the head and foot more pointed?”
“I only saw the nub after it had been smoked. It wasn’t sharp, though, and I think it had a slight floral note as well.”
“Ah, then I’ll bet my money here.”
The clerk beamed as he pulled out a cigar. Taekjoo didn’t ask for an explanation, but the man seemed eager to indulge himself.
“It’s Cohiba Behike. The aroma is known for its depth and complexity. It’s thick and sweet at the same time, but the richness is subtle enough to create a well-rounded, excellent flavor profile. Would you like to give it a try?”
Taekjoo nodded. The clerk lit the Cohiba Behike with the torch flame of a cigar lighter. Unlike a regular cigarette, the tip of the cigar burned slowly, like a leaf singed by fire. The ash clung to the tip, firm and unbroken.
The scent of the cigar filled Taekjoo’s mouth, and he took in its richness. He let the smoke swirl around his nose as he watched the cigar slowly burn down. But in the end, he shook his head.
“Close, but still not quite.”
“How is it different, if I may ask?”
“The overall taste is pretty similar, but the one I smelled that day had more depth and richness. And this one lacks the damp undertone.”
“If you noticed a dampness in the scent, it’s likely from the tip of the cigar. The tip is dipped in cognac before being lit, which infuses the cigar’s aroma with the scent of the cognac.”
The clerk held up a finger, signaling Taekjoo to wait, and disappeared into the back of the room.
Soon, he came back with a glass of liquor in his hand.
Taekjoo guessed it was cognac. The clerk cut the burning tip of the cigar with a cutter.
Then, he dipped the freshly cut tip into the cognac and handed the cigar back to Taekjoo.
“How is it this time?”
“It got closer, but still not the same.”
Taekjoo’s answer threw the clerk into a thoughtful silence. A crease had formed between his brows, and the man rubbed it as he muttered to himself, seemingly out of habit.
“Similar scents indicate that they are the same type of cigar, but deeper and richer than this one... Well, there is one that comes to my mind.”
“And what is that?”
Taekjoo quickly asked back. The clerk kept rubbing his chin, deep in thought, before finally speaking.
“Cohiba cigars are typically made with tobacco leaves aged twice. But a few years ago, to celebrate the fortieth anniversary of the Cohiba cigar, they released a limited edition, the Cohiba Behike. For this edition, only the finest tobacco leaves were selected and aged three times.
These special cigars were stored in a temperature- and humidity-controlled environment to bring out their full flavor. After production, they were kept in cigar boxes and aged for six more years to enhance the scent. The downside is that only four thousand packs were made,
and they were sold exclusively in Spain. Many cigar enthusiasts, myself included, tried to get their hands on one. This limited edition is known for its distinct feature—a scent that’s heavier than regular Cohiba cigars. I’ve also heard the aroma is richer. Being a limited edition,
each cigar was priced at four hundred dollars.”
Four hundred dollars per cigar. A richer, deeper aroma. The dampness at the tip might have been from cognac. He smoked four-hundred-dollar cigars and wore fourteen-thousand-dollar shoes. Clearly, excessive wealth could turn a person into a monster.
“Do you have that limited edition product by any chance?”
“Oh, I would love to get a glimpse of it myself, sir.”
The clerk smiled in a sorry way. At any rate, this scratched Taekjoo’s itch. He took out a couple of hundred-dollar notes, wanting to tip the clerk as a thank you.
“There’s no need to, sir. You didn’t even find what you were looking for.”
“Then I’ll take this one. You could’ve ignored me pestering you, but you didn’t. Thank you.”
Taekjoo grabbed one of the twenty-dollar hand-rolled cigars close to him and walked out of the cigar bar. Only four thousand packs of Cohiba Behike in the entire world—an elegant taste for a murder fiend.
As Taekjoo entered his hotel room, the first thing he saw was his suitcase.
He didn’t have the time nor the energy to unpack.
He walked toward the bathroom, stripping off his clothes as he went.
He got into the shower and turned the tap on right away, soaking in the warmth and pressure of the hotel water.
For a while, Taekjoo simply rested his palm against the wall and let the water wash over him. He needed time to think.
Taekjoo agreed with the police’s theory: he had been abducted by those opposed to the energy project the moment he landed in Russia.
There was no doubt of that. But what he couldn’t understand was the appearance of the crocodile leather shoes.
Who on earth was he, and what business could he possibly have had in that place?
Ultimately, he ended up helping Taekjoo out, but that didn’t mean Taekjoo could see him as an ally.
There was no way to tell why the man didn’t harm Taekjoo.
It could have been because he didn’t want to, or maybe he was deterred by the arrival of the police.
The presence of the man behind Taekjoo was enough to make him hold his breath and freeze in place.
A crocodile was lurking in the silence of the waters, and Taekjoo was the prey.
The moment he moved, he’d be torn to pieces.
He felt like he’d been thrown naked into a world of cruel and barbaric savages.
Taekjoo couldn’t dare attack back, an experience he’d never had his entire life.
His will to live prompted him to try, but he was overpowered almost too easily and too quickly.
What would’ve happened if the monster had sincerely tried to harm Taekjoo?
The sharp tips of the shoes, the smell of the burning cigar, the casual tone of the voice, and the raw brutality. His violence was no simple defense mechanism to overpower his opponents. It was more like an art—imprinting fear in them. Dismantling them piece by piece, until nothing remained.
Taekjoo clenched his jaw and shook his head. He tried to shake off the stubborn afterimage carved into his mind. If a memory is going to poison you the longer you hold onto it, the best thing to do is to let it go. It’s best to get it out of your system as soon as possible.
Taekjoo wanted to finish the shower and get out, but the bandage on his arm bothered him. It didn’t take him long to decide. He unwrapped the damp, soggy bandage. His dislocated wrist felt sore but not bad enough that he couldn’t stand the pain.
Taekjoo also peeled off the artificial skin from his face, freeing himself from the discomfort. The plain, boring features were replaced by Taekjoo’s own sharp features. He quickly washed his face and hair before putting on a bathrobe.
Once he got out of the shower, the first thing Taekjoo did was unpack.
The suitcase looked just as battered and bruised as Taekjoo did.
Its contents were all entangled and messy.
Taekjoo pushed away the first layer of his clothes, revealing his razor, portable game console, watch, tablet PC, and camera.
He lined them all up and took out a small screwdriver from his travel toolbox.
Then, he began disassembling his stuff one by one, which all looked brand new, by the way.
Taekjoo took out only the parts he needed from each device and put them together.
The final product was a small device that he connected to his work phone.
It was state-of-the-art technology. It changed the IP while allowing him to use the hotel’s lines.
This effectively prevented any attempts to bug or tap his calls.
Taekjoo connected the small device to his laptop as the final step before turning it on.
He entered his password, watched the screen load, and saw his boring wallpaper appear.
Among many desktop icons, Taekjoo clicked on the one that looked like the famous social media.
Once he logged in, the screen displayed the emblem of the National Intelligence Service, connecting him directly to HQ.
Immediately, Mr. Lim appeared on the screen—you’re late—and lightly chided Taekjoo.
But Mr. Lim wasn’t the only one. Taekjoo also shared the sentiment and had a lot to say to his superior.
“If I had to disguise into someone, why couldn’t it have been someone safer, someone less important?”
- Well, if it’s not someone worthy of abduction and ransom, how would you meet people who are just as important?
“You sound as if you’ve known this would’ve happened all along.”
- Nonsense. I simply thought it was a possibility. And I also anticipated you’d make it back, being the excellent agent you are.
Lim always knew what to say to get himself out of trouble. Taekjoo continued his questions begrudgingly.
“What on earth happened? Your message said someone from Gazprom was coming to pick me up.”
- Yes, it did, since Gazprom let us know they’re sending an escort your way.
“Are you sure the message was from Gazprom?”
- I told you, I’m sure. Your cover almost got blown.
They called the Itochu office to let them know you hadn’t arrived long after your plane had landed.
We were able to intercept the call, but it was close.
I heard the plane you were on didn’t land on time because of some on-board trouble.
The change in flight schedule seemed to have caused all this confusion.
Some Asian guy arrived earlier than you did and claimed to be Sakamoto Hiro himself.