2. New Mission #10
“If ever the day comes that you’re gonna have to kill me, please, just let me go in peace and boredom.”
“Hmm. It’s not an easy favor to ask, but I’ll think about it.”
The monster hesitated as though it was a matter of great consideration. Then, he added.
“Don’t worry. As long as you don’t harm me, I’ll have no reason to harm you either. It may not seem like it, but I only act in self-defense.
“Well, look who’s suddenly a pacifist.”
Taekjoo repeated exactly what Zhenya had said just a moment ago. He grinned and tossed the half-empty whiskey to Taekjoo. Taekjoo let his guard down and accepted it without a second thought. He downed the remaining drink. He felt the burn wash down his throat and sting his tongue.
The phone inside his jacket suddenly started vibrating.
Taekjoo put down the empty bottle and checked the device.
Another image file from headquarters. Taekjoo waited for a while, and the screen displayed a stern-looking Russian man.
Was this the Psikh Bogdanov he was supposed to watch out for?
Taekjoo was lost in thought when Zhenya snatched the phone from him.
“I was told to be careful of that man. Do you know who he is?”
Zhenya squinted at the picture and gave a slow nod.
“Yeah, I know him. I know him really well.”
“How is he?”
“You better stay away from him. Nothing good ever came out of approaching him.”
“Do you think Morgan’s death was related to this man?”
“Morgan—you mean the American before? Well, it could be the maniac’s work—or it might not be. Don’t dwell on it. You’re not here to avenge him, are you? Leave him be, and let’s just do our job.”
“Can’t believe there’s another human being that you, of all people, would call a maniac. I can only imagine what he’s capable of.”
Taekjoo shook his head, and Zhenya smirked. At the moment, Taekjoo felt like he wouldn’t be surprised if Zhenya turned out to be the infamous Bogdanov himself. And yet, there was another man on this planet whom this crazy bastard referred to as a maniac.
Taekjoo had better stay out of his way and focus only on the mission, rather than worrying about someone he hadn’t even encountered yet.
“I heard you’re well-connected to the top names in Russian politics and business.”
“Of course. I can hook you up with whoever you need, however you want.”
The confidence didn’t seem like a bluff. Taekjoo concluded that if he had to work with a partner he hadn’t asked for, he might as well make the most of it. It finally seemed like the streak of bad luck that had plagued him since day one was coming to an end.
Taekjoo, looking at peace for the first time in quite a while, gave his order.
“I’ll need the names of those actively involved in smuggling arms. Whether it’s the one providing the funds, the one developing the arms, or the dealer who buys and sells the weapons—everyone. I need to get in first in order to see Anastasia.”
Zhenya’s brows twitched at the mention of Anastasia, but the change was so subtle that it was barely noticeable.
Soon, Zhenya nodded in confirmation. He picked up his coat and got to his feet right away.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, with everything ready.”
Taekjoo stood up along with him. It was such a relief to know that Zhenya would be leaving any moment now. Taekjoo walked right behind Zhenya as if he were not only going to shoo the man away but also his scent. He even opened the door himself.
Zhenya went along without complaint, letting Taekjoo escort him to the door.
Taekjoo held back the urge to tell him to get lost and settled for saying they’d meet tomorrow.
He was just about to close the door when it suddenly stopped.
Taekjoo looked down, perplexed, when he saw the sharp tip of a shoe.
Looking sour, he glanced up at Zhenya, who had the audacity to grin smugly while lowering himself. Finally, they were at eye level.
“We’ll see the real face you’re hiding behind that mask.”
The chuckling voice sounded creepy for some reason. Taekjoo frowned. He glared at Zhenya. Zhenya grinned again, straightened up, and walked down the hallway. Taekjoo traced the man with his eyes and made sure he had gone before closing the door.
The elevator arrived soon, and its door opened. His eyes met those of the man inside. Zhenya stood with his back to the man. As the elevator descended, the man behind him suddenly spoke.
“What should we do with him?”
Zhenya stared at the decreasing floor sign. His thoughts remained enigmatic as his lips twisted into a slight smile. He responded in a lazy tone.
“Blow it up. Don’t leave him a burrow to crawl into.”
***
“...?”
It was still a bit early in the morning, but the doorbell rang.
Taekjoo was putting on his mask when he checked the time.
The clock read eight in the morning, still well before the scheduled housekeeping.
There weren’t any official events or scheduled plans for the visiting party, either.
Could it be Zhenya? Well, then, he was a much more diligent man than Taekjoo had expected him to be.
Taekjoo finished attaching the synthetic facial mask to his face and walked toward the door. He was about to ask who it was when the person on the other side announced who he was.
“Room service.”
Taekjoo opened the door with a puzzled look on his face. He was sure he’d heard it right. There was a tray standing before the door and a server. The man in uniform greeted him politely.
Taekjoo craned his neck to look down the hallway. It was empty, which wasn’t surprising. To some, it was still the early hours, after all. Taekjoo blocked the man who asked if he could step in to set the tray.
“You must have the wrong room.”
“It’s Room 911, sir.”
“I didn’t order anything.”
“Oh, it was arranged as a courtesy from—”
Someone else? Who could it be? Zhenya, that bastard?
“—the president of Gazprom.”
Ah—Taekjoo chuckled, baffled at his own self. Yes, Zhenya was a colleague, but he was a killing machine, far from civil. What was Taekjoo expecting from someone like that?
If this was from the president of Gazprom, then was this his way of apologizing for yesterday?
Not only did he miss the luncheon he was hosting himself, but his proxy didn’t show up either.
If Taekjoo refused this reconciliatory sign, then surely, the sender would be notified.
There was no need for him to cause unnecessary conflict and draw just as much unnecessary attention to himself.
Taekjoo gestured at the server to come in.
The man pushed the tray in a very natural, experienced manner, laying the food on the table by the window.
After setting everything, including utensils, the server left, bidding Taekjoo to call him should he need anything.
Huh, a surprise indulgence for a man on a mission.
The dishes were all covered with silver domes. But the scent escaping let Taekjoo know that the menu was the traditional Russian soup borsch, some toasts, eggs, fruits, and coffee.
As Taekjoo slowly scanned the table, he found a card wedged in its holder. He picked it up, expecting to find something trite written on it. There was only one word written, and its four letters engraved themselves clearly in Taekjoo’s vision.
「Boom.」
Damn it.
Taekjoo tossed the card aside and lunged toward the door. He didn’t have time to think or assess the situation. He gritted his teeth and jumped, and his fingertips just brushed the doorknob.
At that moment, with an enormous explosion, a violent shockwave tore through the room.
Taekjoo’s body was thrown into a wall. Right after, the floor beneath his feet began to crumble.
The impact of the explosion shattered the windows and blew up all the furniture to pieces.
The ceiling shook violently, and a piercing alarm echoed across the entire building.
Everyone inside the hotel froze. They began frantically looking around, trying to figure out what was happening.
“AAAAAAAAAHHHH!”
People started screaming.
Everyone thought of the same thing. A terror attack.
After that, people started running away, scared out of their wits.
The hotel staff tried to calm everyone down, shouting safety instructions, but their message was buried in people’s screams.
Small and big fights erupted as everyone ran toward the narrow exit.
People didn’t hesitate in pushing and pulling others to save themselves.
Someone speeding down the stairs slipped and fell down.
Others didn’t think twice about jumping or stepping over the body.
All hell broke loose as everyone lost their reason from extreme fear.
The situation calmed down after the firefighters arrived.
Once the fire was contained, the bomb squad was sent in, each member clad in full protective gear.
Journalists and reporters had flocked to the scene after the explosion.
They delivered their reports in urgent tones.
There were too many injuries for the scale of the explosion, but most had occurred in the chaos of the escape rather than from the blast itself.
Ambulance after ambulance arrived in rows, ferrying the wounded to hospitals.
In the middle of the chaos, there was one man in a heated exchange with a paramedic. Anyone could see that Kwon Taekjoo was the most injured.
“You’re not feeling the pain right now because you’re in shock. You’re gonna regret this once the adrenaline goes away. Look, sir—you hurt your head, and you need a CT scan right now. Please get on the gurney.”
The paramedic was almost yelling at this point. Taekjoo had refused the offer again and again, but it was no use. He sighed, looking weary.
“I am fine. I can take care of myself. Stop wasting your time and go check on other people instead.”
“Trust me, I’d love to do just that, but I can’t just ditch stubborn people like you because it’s protocol. What if something happens to you, and they dock my pay as a result? Are you gonna cover that for me?”
“The injury’s not as bad as it looks, it’s just the bleeding that’s bad.”
“Let the medics decide that.”
The situation was driving Taekjoo mad. He wasn’t even lying.
He really was fine. He was simply bleeding because he tore his forehead a bit.
This was nothing. All he had to do was clean the wound and slap a bandage on it.