2. New Mission #11
He might need a stitch or two to stop the bleeding, no more than a few.
At any rate, it was nothing that would cause trouble, even if it was put off for a bit.
Yet the paramedic standing before Taekjoo was adamant—who was calling whom stubborn?
Taekjoo ruffled his hair out of frustration, all the while with his hand placed on the left side of his jaw at an awkward angle. The explosion had caused that part of his mask to peel off, and the nagging first responder didn’t miss it.
“Does it hurt? Let me have a look.”
Taekjoo slapped away the hand approaching him.
The paramedic’s eyes widened at the extreme reaction.
He didn’t get mad or show anger when Taekjoo smacked his hand, but his expression did grow grimmer.
It seemed that now, he was sure that there was something wrong with Taekjoo’s head.
The paramedic nodded in an understanding fashion, patting Taekjoo on the back.
He then gestured to his colleague with his eyes to come over and help him.
The colleague, who had been watching them for quite some time, came over at once.
Taekjoo now had two people nagging him to get on the gurney, one on each side, and he was getting more and more pissed by the minute.
It was already bad enough that he got a bomb as a present first thing in the morning, and things just kept getting worse.
Taekjoo’s cover as Sakamoto Hiro would be blown if he let the paramedics take him. He was sure the hospital would be teeming with police officers. And for his cover to be blown at a place like that? Just imagining the scenario made Taekjoo’s head hurt. He was not going to let it happen.
“I’m fine, really. Look, there’s nothing wrong with me.”
Taekjoo lifted his legs, stepping from side to side, marching in place. But the paramedics couldn’t care less.
“Sure, you look perfectly fine, sir. Why don’t we go see a doctor and show him how fine you are?”
They kept repeating it like a broken record. It was driving Taekjoo mad. He couldn’t beat them all up, not with so many eyes on him.
Taekjoo let them lead him for a bit as he scanned the passers-by. He felt like he had spotted a familiar face in the sea of people. And when Taekjoo’s gaze zeroed in, the person quickly ducked out of sight. It was suspicious.
Taekjoo adjusted his plans and went along with the paramedics. He was heading toward the ambulance when he sensed a pair of eyes observing him again. He turned to look suddenly, but again, the person hid himself among the crowd. Still, Taekjoo caught a glimpse, and his heart started beating fast.
It was him. Psikh Bogdanov. The number one crazy maniac in the country, and also the man Taekjoo was warned to avoid at all costs.
However, his surprise didn’t last long. Why is he here?
Why? Was it a coincidence, and he just happened to be passing by the area?
No, that didn’t make sense. The adage that criminals always return to the scene of the crime would make more sense than this whole thing being a coincidence.
And neither Taekjoo wouldn’t be surprised if the whole thing was orchestrated by that crazy Bogdanov.
The only question that remained was this: why. Had Taekjoo’s cover already been blown?
After running through all the possibilities, Taekjoo concluded he had to get out of there—fast.
The explosion had taken away all his belongings, including his Colt.
He would face Psikh if it came to that, but not right now, not when he had no weapon.
Taekjoo felt confident that no matter how crazy the man was, he wouldn’t dare do anything mad in broad daylight.
He decided to get in the ambulance and make his move when the time was right.
He was just getting in the vehicle when it happened.
Psikh Bogdanov suddenly approached Kwon Taekjoo.
After fluidly navigating his way among the throng of people, he surprised Taekjoo by appearing in a first responder’s uniform.
He pulled his mask over his mouth and went for the ambulance driver’s seat.
Taekjoo was about to end up in the same vehicle with him.
Danger alert. Taekjoo’s instincts blared like sirens in his head.
Taekjoo pushed the paramedic next to him and jumped out of the car.
“Hey!”
The paramedic yelled as he stumbled onto his back. That noise, in turn, drew Psikh Bogdanov out of the ambulance. Taekjoo had his eyes fixed on the man as he slowly stepped backward. Psikh stepped forward as well, maintaining the distance, with a grave expression. The eyes above the mask flashed.
Taekjoo clenched his jaw and sprinted toward the crowd.
As he waded through the sea of heads, people yelled their complaints at him—and it was just what Taekjoo wanted.
In his current situation, it was better that he had everyone’s eyes on him.
Just as Taekjoo assumed, Psikh Bogdanov couldn’t keep up with him.
The man flinched once before disappearing to the other side.
Kwon Taekjoo quickly got out of the hotel vicinity and headed for the main road. No doubt, his opponent was familiar with the area. Taekjoo needed to put as much distance between them as he could.
Taekjoo ran, eyes locked straight ahead.
Then, out of nowhere, he heard the roar of an engine.
His head snapped to the side—a Jeep was racing toward him.
The windows were tinted so dark he couldn’t see inside.
But one thing was clear—there was a man in a white coat in the passenger seat, no doubt it was Psikh Bogdanov.
Taekjoo cursed under his breath and darted into a narrow alley, too tight for any car to follow.
The Jeep that had been chasing him like it was ready to mow him down screeched to a stop at the entrance.
A back door swung open, and a man dressed completely in black stepped out.
Bogdanov gave him a small nod. That was all it took for the man to take off after Taekjoo, whipping his long coat behind him.
At the same time, the Jeep sped off down the main road.
They were setting him up—one in front, one behind, trying to trap him.
Taekjoo kept thinking hard even as he was running. Why the hell was Psikh Bogdanov coming after him? Unless his cover was blown, this meant the killing machine was after Sakamoto Hiro. Could Bogdanov be one of the people opposing the Russia-Japan cooperative project?
Taekjoo kept thinking, but he was still puzzled.
Could Bogdanov be trying to gain leverage by kidnapping someone involved in the deal and holding them hostage?
If so, wouldn’t it make more sense to target someone higher up, someone more important?
It made sense that he had tried to abduct Taekjoo on the day he arrived.
At that time, no one else had shown up, so Hiro was the only option for a hostage. But now, that was no longer the case.
So, did that mean Bogdanov was after Kwon Taekjoo rather than Sakamoto Hiro? Why? His questions kept growing, but the answer was nowhere to be found.
Taekjoo looked up to scan his surroundings.
He saw a spiral staircase on the outside of a building up ahead.
If he climbed all the way up to the rooftop or stepped onto the rail to jump to the next building, he’d at least be able to avoid being cornered like a mouse. He mapped out his route in his head.
However, the chaser was no easy opponent.
BANG—a bullet whizzed past Taekjoo, grazing the building’s exterior and striking his intended destination before he could get there.
And as though the chaser had read Taekjoo’s mind, he started shooting bullet after bullet toward the staircase.
Taekjoo quickly changed his course and planned on stepping on the ventilator of the next building, but bullets followed him there as well.
“Goddammit!”
Taekjoo ground his teeth out of frustration.
He kept running, and his chaser also kept chasing him.
Taekjoo ran and ran until his lungs were about to burst, but it seemed like there was nowhere left to run.
Shots were fired on a busy road in broad daylight, yet everything else was so quiet—what kind of place was this?
Taekjoo cursed the Russian police and took a turn again.
Fortunately, the turn led him to a narrow street barely wide enough for one person, which connected all the way to the road by the river.
Taekjoo hadn’t anticipated this chase, but it was a good thing he’d taken the time to check out the routes in the area earlier.
His vision bounced with every step as he ran.
Through it, he saw the wide, open riverside road with quite a few cars speeding along.
Just a little further. Just a bit more. Taekjoo lengthened his stride, pushing himself to take bigger steps.
It felt like he was covering every mile he'd ever run in his life—all in Russia.
He was about to escape the narrow street and enter the spacious road when a vehicle came to a sudden stop right before him, blocking his way. It was the Jeep earlier. Behind Taekjoo, Bogdanov’s dog was closing in.
As the driver’s door swung open, Taekjoo slammed it shut, forcing the man back into his seat.
Taekjoo seized the split second. He leaped over the hood, almost gliding above it.
But then, the passenger door was thrust open, slamming into Taekjoo and throwing him off balance.
He barely managed to spin around and avoid crashing to the ground.
He rolled into the other lane, but things weren’t looking any better.
A speeding motorcycle was coming. The rider clutched the brake when he saw Taekjoo suddenly appear in the middle of the road.
Unfortunately, the distance between them was too short for the bike to stop in time.
Taekjoo didn’t even have a moment to get up.
Instinctively, he hunched down and pulled his body close to protect himself.
The front wheel of the motorcycle scraped against the road, sending up a shower of sparks.
Even Bogdanov’s crew had shut their eyes tight, bracing for the worst.
An ear-splitting noise rang, followed by a thump. For a fraction of a second, the world stopped and went silent. Yet the anticipated impact didn’t come.
“...?”
Taekjoo slowly opened his eyes. The rear wheel of the motorcycle was spinning right before him. The back of the bike was lifted into the air as its front end smashed into the Jeep. That single second felt like an eternity.