2. New Mission #12
Taekjoo moved to the side in a flash, an instinctive move driven purely by survival. In the next instant, the back wheel of the bike, which had been in mid-air, slammed into the ground with a loud thump. Had he been even a fraction of a second late, his head would’ve been splattered.
Taekjoo’s body relaxed after the close brush with death. His eyelids fluttered uncontrollably, and his entire body, drenched in sweat, started feeling sore. He couldn’t even count how many times he’d nearly died—and it wasn’t even lunchtime yet.
Someone pulled the limp Taekjoo upright. It was Bogdanov’s dog. Then, Psikh Bogdanov himself grabbed Taekjoo’s other arm. He scanned the surroundings, his eyes alert, and muttered under his breath,
“Stop making a scene and get in the car.”
A fist landed in Taekjoo’s stomach. The immediate response was a wave of nausea, and then his consciousness slipped away.
The hunting party dragged him and dumped him in the back seat of their vehicle.
Psikh Bogdanov took the seat next to him.
All the doors of the Jeep clunked shut. Then, the vehicle started moving down the road as if nothing had happened. Still no sirens, let alone police.
A perfect haven for kidnappers. Even in his barely conscious state, Taekjoo couldn’t suppress a cynical chuckle. So—what now? Was he going to die with all ten of his fingers chopped off, his body bloated in river water? This was a death Taekjoo had never imagined for himself.
Where the hell was Zhenya, that idiot, at a time like this? Just when Taekjoo recalled the one person he had completely forgotten about, he heard a helicopter in the distance.
“It’s him!”
The man in the passenger seat shouted. Taekjoo barely glanced up and looked out the window.
A helicopter was heading straight toward them from the opposite direction of the Jeep.
There was a figure on the floor of the chopper, his long legs visible even from afar.
Though he was still just a blurry dot on the horizon, Taekjoo was certain the man was Zhenya.
The man in the passenger seat rolled down his window and immediately opened fire. Meanwhile, Psikh Bogdanov reached under his seat and hurriedly pulled something out. As he did, he knocked it against the heel of Taekjoo’s foot. It was a shoulder-fired rocket launcher.
“Roll down the window.”
On command, the back window slid down. Bogdanov leaned out the window, aiming the launcher directly at the helicopter. If it hit, the chopper would be obliterated mid-air.
Taekjoo lunged to stop him, but an unexpected threat froze him in place.
A gun was pressed to his temple, point-blank.
The man in the passenger seat had him covered.
Taekjoo had no choice but to back down, raising both hands in surrender.
The deafening roar of the rocket launcher’s blast followed, shaking the entire vehicle as it shot into the air.
The helicopter made a steep ascent to avoid the projectile.
It narrowly missed the tail of the rotorcraft, hitting a nearby building instead.
One of its walls crumbled as though struck by a wrecking ball.
Bullets began raining down from the helicopter as well.
Zhenya had whipped out his Minigun and started relentlessly opening fire.
Taekjoo ducked, as did Bogdanov. Unfortunately, the driver was riddled with bullets, and the car was just as full of holes.
As the driver’s body went limp and slumped to the side, the steering wheel followed, swiveling in the same direction.
Naturally, this caused the car to veer sharply.
The injured passenger in the front seat quickly grabbed the wheel, but he failed to prevent the car from hitting the guardrail and diving hood-first into the river.
“...!”
Taekjoo was unable to scream. Everything turned upside down, and all external noise was muffled except for the gurgling sound.
Cold water flooded his nose and ears, filling the car through the windows shattered by gunfire.
Taekjoo struggled to breathe at first, suffocating from panic, but he calmed himself.
Soon, he calmed his panic and held his breath more steadily.
Taekjoo saw that Psikh Bogdanov was also conscious. The man waited for the right moment and easily swam out of the car through the broken window. Taekjoo followed the same exit. It was the only option left.
Then it started. The rain of bullets resumed from above the water.
Taekjoo swam back the way he had come and hid behind the car.
His ears were still submerged, so he couldn’t be sure, but Taekjoo guessed that the chopper was right above the surface of the river.
The propeller whirled, creating waves, and along with it, Taekjoo’s breathing became unstable again.
To make matters worse, bullets kept falling from the sky.
The already-dead passengers in both front seats were riddled with more holes, their bodies entangled.
Blood seeped into the water like ink, slowly spreading and floating, obscuring Taekjoo’s vision.
Never the helping hand, that one. Did Zhenya not know Taekjoo was also in the car?
He kept firing the Minigun at the vehicle as if he were exterminating every living thing in it.
The jackass doesn’t know when to quit.
Taekjoo complained inwardly as he avoided a close shot that almost got him.
He couldn’t wait for Zhenya to stop firing.
He was running out of breath. His lungs, deprived of fresh oxygen, throbbed as if they were about to burst.
At this rate, he would die from suffocation, not from a bullet wound.
Just at the right moment, the gunshots stopped.
A shadow loomed above the surface. The offense wasn’t over—it had just briefly paused to check for survivors.
Taekjoo swam out of the window for the second time.
He had only about ten to fifteen feet left before reaching the surface, and he had to get there before Zhenya began firing again.
He clenched his jaw and kicked his legs as hard as he could.
However, his body, rising rhythmically, was suddenly yanked downward.
Taekjoo looked down and saw Psikh Bogdanov hanging onto his ankle.
His face, looking back at Taekjoo, was frowning.
He must have been shot. Red blood was streaming from his left arm.
Taekjoo kicked Bogdanov’s face hard. Several kicks in a row managed to break his grip on the ankle, but it wasn’t over. This time, Bogdanov grabbed Taekjoo’s sleeve. He was determined not to die alone. His efforts were beyond stubborn. They were almost desperate.
Taekjoo raised a fist and swung it at the man, who flinched and paused for a moment to avoid the blow.
That was when Taekjoo wrapped his arm around Bogdanov’s neck and choked him.
The man struggled with all his might, but he didn’t have much strength left in him.
He’d bled too much from the wound, and on top of that, he was running out of breath.
Taekjoo wasn’t in a much better situation either.
He tightened his arm and choked Psikh Bogdanov even harder.
The man scratched Taekjoo’s arm, thrashing to break free.
But in the end, after one final convulsion, his limbs went limp.
Taekjoo waited a few more seconds before letting go of him.
The huge body slowly slipped away. Taekjoo watched the ghostly pale face and swam upward.
As soon as he broke the surface, his whole torso inflated. He sucked in the air he’d been holding in for so long. As his lungs were replenished with fresh oxygen, not only did his chest hurt, but even his windpipe felt sore. His eyes widened as well.
It took some time before Taekjoo started to feel the horrible cold.
His mouth, parted as he gasped for breath, quivered, his teeth chattering.
He needed to get out of the water, but he barely had any strength left from the earlier chaos.
Floating on the surface was all he could manage when someone grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him out of the water.
He coughed once, then again.
He retched and spat out the water he had swallowed.
After coughing so violently his throat ached, his head started to throb.
His stomach, where Bogdanov had punched him, also pulsed with pain.
Taekjoo wrapped his arm around his abdomen and pulled back his upper body, barely able to sit up straight.
His eyelids fluttered, and as his vision cleared, he saw a pair of straight legs.
Starting from the pointed tip of the crocodile shoes, Taekjoo’s eyes moved upward until they reached Zhenya’s grinning face.
“Impressive. You’re still alive.”
“Almost died, thanks to you.”
Taekjoo mocked him as he coughed some more.
“And the man?”
“He kept dragging me down with him, so I took care of him.”
Again, impressive—Zhenya repeated, chuckling.
Taekjoo glared at him for a while before getting to his feet.
Once he was up, water streamed from Taekjoo’s body.
His wet skin began to freeze from the surface in an instant.
His lungs, heavy from being submerged under water, were not really in the best condition.
No matter how much Taekjoo inhaled, he couldn’t breathe in enough air.
He needed to warm himself up as soon as possible.
Taekjoo took a step forward, trying to find a place to rest, but Zhenya blocked his path.
“That looks pretty creepy.”
“What?”
Zhenya tapped his cheek with his finger, and Taekjoo unconsciously touched his own face.
The synthetic skin covering his face hadn’t made it through the car accident, let alone the explosion.
His mask was shredded, hanging loosely from his face.
Taekjoo groaned and felt the torn skin. Zhenya’s eyes followed Taekjoo’s fingertips.
His mouth said creepy, but his eyes said otherwise.
He looked like he was itching to know what it felt like to peel someone’s face off.
Taekjoo pretended not to have noticed Zhenya’s peeking interest as he started walking. As he did, Zhenya followed him with a lazy gait and suggested that Taekjoo remove the mask. His antics were no longer amusing.
Taekjoo kept ignoring him. Once he got to the road, the distinct chill of the wind by a body of water swept over him.
His teeth began chattering again. He glanced at Zhenya, standing casually next to him.
At this moment, there was nothing more Taekjoo wanted than Zhenya’s long, thick coat.
He shivered and stole glances, but Zhenya merely returned the gaze, wondering if something was bothering Taekjoo.