3. The Nuclear Man #6
In the meantime, the other guards seemed to have followed the sound of the gunshot.
Back to the secret path or face the enemy?
Taekjoo couldn’t decide, looking back and forth between the path and the door.
Suddenly, Zhenya was walking toward him.
He grabbed Taekjoo by the collar and dragged him to the window.
This time, the room faced the front of the residence instead of the back.
Zhenya threw open the window. Taekjoo saw that outside, cars were speeding out of the estate in a frenzy, spooked by what was happening.
Zhenya, having seen the scene, pulled Taekjoo even closer to the window.
Taekjoo was practically forced into stepping on the windowsill.
“Stop moving!”
The security guards filled up the room in no time and demanded that Taekjoo surrender.
Taekjoo felt the back of his head tightening from the stress.
They were probably aiming at every inch of him—from his head to his feet.
But Zhenya wasn’t discouraged at all despite having been surrounded.
He simply looked ahead and kept mumbling under his breath.
“Get ready.”
“For what?”
“Right now.”
Jump—before Taekjoo’s brain could even process the word, his body was already airborne.
He practically let Zhenya drag him around.
As the two dropped down from the third floor, they landed on the roof of a passing sedan that was leaving the estate.
The crash caused the vehicle to sway left and right, which also caused Taekjoo to bounce around.
If he hadn’t wedged his hand between the gap in the trunk, Taekjoo would’ve fallen off the vehicle.
Meanwhile, Zhenya had turned his body halfway and regained balance.
Then, he punched the window of the driver’s seat.
After about two blows, the glass, which cracked at first, then shattered completely.
Zhenya shoved his hand in and pulled out the driver in one motion.
Not even the seatbelt could keep him in his seat.
The person sitting in the passenger seat hurried to grab the unoccupied steering wheel.
Zhenya pushed him with his feet and managed to take the seat.
And the first thing he did was step on the gas.
Taekjoo’s body flung backward. It was a long time later that Zhenya finally remembered his existence and opened the backseat door. Taekjoo barely managed to crawl into the car speeding at 60 mph. He nearly got caught in the door but luckily escaped the danger.
Before Taekjoo could catch his breath, he quickly aimed at the original owner of the vehicle.
He had no intention to kill since the moment Taekjoo and Zhenya got near this car, the guards stopped shooting.
It meant that whoever this person was, he was important enough that even the Bogdanovs couldn’t touch him.
They couldn’t have asked for a better hostage.
But the luck didn’t last long—bullets started raining again.
This time, it was a shotgun. Taekjoo turned to look at the residence, which quickly grew smaller and smaller.
He also saw that Vladimir Bogdanov was coming after them, his whole upper body hanging outside an open window.
He was shooting at them with a shotgun. Luckily, there was still a decent distance between them.
The attack didn’t even touch the rear of the sedan, which glided away from the manor.
There was one more obstacle waiting for them, however. The gates were shut tight. But Zhenya didn’t slow down at the sight of the barred gates. On the contrary, he slammed on the gas and maxed out the speed.
It was literally ride-or-die for him—so reckless, so chill. As a matter of fact, the man was too reckless and chill that he was driving Taekjoo crazy. Why are maniacs all nutjobs?
“AAAAAAHHHHH!”
The owner of the car screamed at the looming gates in panic.
He was yelling so hard that Taekjoo could practically see his tonsil.
It’d be impossible to avoid crashing, even if Zhenya stepped on the brake right now.
Even the guards stationed at the gates had to leap aside to avoid the speeding sedan.
They were gonna crash. We’re gonna crash.
Taekjoo wrapped his arms around his head.
The next second, suddenly, the gates opened. The car continued to speed, crashing against the still-opening gates, and finally left the residence. The security guards, dazed by what was happening, started shooting after coming to their senses. But it was too late to stop the fleeing sedan.
“AAAAAAHHH!”
They had made it out, but the car owner kept shrieking like a madman. Taekjoo wondered if he should just knock him out.
Just as he was about to act, a gunshot pierced the air—and the deafening scream stopped dead. In the blink of an eye, the owner had a hole in the middle of his forehead. His head was resting against his seat, his body slumped to the side. His eyes and mouth were open wide.
Taekjoo, covered in the man’s blood, glared at the driver’s seat. He was pissed. He felt like blowing up Zhenya’s head right now wouldn’t be enough. Whether or not he sensed the murderous aura from behind, Zhenya casually muttered, as if he’d just swatted a fly.
“Can’t stand the noise.”
***
A strong stream of water poured from the showerhead, some of it failing to reach the drain and pooling on the floor.
A man, undoing his suffocating tie, was humming.
His clothes had served their purpose, and he peeled them off one by one.
It didn’t take long for the firm body to reveal itself.
The man ruffled his damp hair and stepped under the stream.
The ivory-colored hair turned darker once it was wet.
A line of water stream flowed down his jaw, gathered in the clavicle before flowing down the firm hill of his chest.
It continued to flow down and wet the narrow space between his chest, accentuating the tattoo on it.
His tight, defined muscles softened under the warmth of the water.
The fingers running through the damp hair were long and delicate.
However, the eyes glaring at the foggy mirror were no less terrifying. They had the same wild gleam as a crocodile’s, just after sinking its teeth into fresh prey. Silent, yet cruel. The straight lips curved into a smile.
Taekjoo poured all the ice into the bucket. Then, he proceeded to pour the cheap vodka he had in it as well. The bucket was full to the brim, its content just about to overflow. Taekjoo dunked his hand into the bucket, sending vodka and ice spilling across the table.
The cold finally soothed his throbbing wrist—the same one he’d dislocated before, now acting up from ignoring the doctor’s orders.
Taekjoo sighed and leaned back his head.
The old couch deflated and belched out a thick cloud of dust.
Taekjoo couldn’t be bothered. He closed his eyes.
He grimaced. He felt like his entire body was creaking.
The bathroom didn’t even have a tub, but the occupant was taking his sweet time.
It was Zhenya, and he didn’t bother asking the owner of the room if he could use the shower.
They had just returned to the old hostel where Taekjoo had stayed after escaping the Bogdanov residence.
The place was the same old hostel, and with the owner away, they slipped in without a hitch.
But even here, they wouldn’t be able to stay for long since the payment had been made with Zhenya’s credit card.
It was a matter of time before someone tracked them down.
Sure enough, chaos unfolded outside the window.
Police were conducting random road checks across the city, vehicles were inspected, and barricades were set up at every turn.
Numerous police cars roamed the place, blowing sirens everywhere.
It wasn’t an overreaction. After all, a shooting incident had just taken place at a party held during one of Russia’s most important gatherings.
The tight security would last for quite some time.
In times like this, it was better to wait it out and stay low rather than move hastily.
Unfortunately, it was something Taekjoo didn’t have the luxury to do at the moment.
The sound of the falling water stopped. Zhenya finally seemed to be done with his shower. Taekjoo turned his head as the bathroom door opened and saw Zhenya stepping out. Taekjoo found it strange, however—Zhenya was all dressed as he came out.
The fabric would stick to his skin because of the dampness.
Doesn’t he find it uncomfortable? A bathrobe was a luxury this run-down hostel didn’t provide, but they were both men.
Zhenya could’ve done with just covering the bottom half of his body.
Taekjoo thought he was the type who wouldn’t be bothered to roam around butt-naked.
He found it funny that Zhenya of all people would act so... reserved.
“What are you staring at?” asked Zhenya. Taekjoo didn’t back down. He stared even more.
“You. Who are you?”
Zhenya was about to drink a glass of vodka but stopped at the question. The look on his face said he found the question absurd.
“You couldn’t possibly be a regular agent like me. Just look at what happened at the Bogdanov residence. You had a legit invitation to that party, and you blended with the people there seamlessly. You weren’t pretending or trying to fool anyone. And that’s not all.
You knew all the way around the place, including the secret passage. And as your partner, I should’ve been informed of what you were doing where, but not once have I been updated on those matters. You kept popping up out of nowhere, but aside from those moments,
I never knew where you were or what you were up to. You never let me in either. I think you have ulterior motives. Tell me, am I wrong?”
“I suppose your superior didn’t tell you everything.”
“Almost nothing. So tell me everything and leave nothing out.”
“Is this an interrogation?”
“Interrogation? No, more like an overdue introduction. We never really got to know each other, remember?” said Taekjoo.
He tapped the table as if warning Zhenya not to even think about dodging the question. Zhenya didn’t seem taken aback at the sudden question. On the contrary, he was smiling, trying to guess Taekjoo’s intentions.
“I definitely look like a Russian. My accent proves I was born and raised here. I have no restriction in getting a chopper up in the air. No one came after me even after a shootout in the middle of the city. Is that it? Is that the reason you keep me at arm’s length?”