4. The Trans-Siberian Railway #2
“I just locked him up. Who knows, he could come in handy in the future.”
“What if he escapes?”
“So you did want me to kill him. How barbaric.”
“That’s not what I said. But it would undo everything we’ve done if he yaps.”
“Don’t worry about that.”
“Can I trust you?”
“Of course. He’d never be able to get out of there without my order.”
His words seemed suspicious yet strangely reassuring at the same time. Yes, it was paradoxical, but that was how Taekjoo felt. Now, all he had to do was focus on Hong Yeowook.
Taekjoo looked out the window and saw a vast field of land. The bleakness of winter was the same everywhere. Here and there, he spotted animals left out, and the way they stood on their four limbs seemed lonely, alone in the vastness.
The scenery stayed the same, the horizon stretching on despite the occasional threat to break it. It quickly bored Taekjoo and made him feel drowsy.
Taekjoo checked his watch while yawning.
He flinched and hurriedly pulled out his bag.
On the outside, it looked like an ordinary briefcase.
But it was actually a satellite device that redirected nearby cellular signals.
It allowed Taekjoo to communicate freely.
He could make his call like it was made from Korea if he wanted to.
Taekjoo turned on the device and typed in some commands. Soon, it began rerouting nearby signals. Taekjoo put in his earphone and dialed a phone number.
Zhenya, with his arms crossed, watched what Taekjoo was doing. Zhenya was about to head out for breakfast—maybe to check on Hong Yeowook while he was at it. He hadn’t intended to wait for Taekjoo, but seeing him hurry piqued his curiosity. He wondered who Taekjoo was rushing to call.
“?, ???. ???[9].”
Taekjoo’s mom picked up the phone right away. She was upset that Taekjoo was a bit late in calling her, and Taekjoo had to calm her down. He was no longer aware of Zhenya’s presence.
Taekjoo began speaking a string of unfamiliar words.
Zhenya had met a few North Koreans for work, and the similarity let him know that Taekjoo was speaking Korean.
But Zhenya wasn’t fluent. He couldn’t tell who Taekjoo was talking to or what he was saying.
However, he could tell that Taekjoo’s tone had softened considerably, as if trying to reassure the person on the other end.
Zhenya tried to guess who it might be based on this.
Another clue was the faint voice escaping from the earphones.
It belonged to a woman. Not just any woman, but someone more than a one-night stand—someone with whom Taekjoo had a long-standing relationship.
Zhenya took out his phone and ran his translator app. Just as he’d expected, Taekjoo was speaking in Korean, and he kept repeating the word uhmuhnee[10]. Zhenya scoffed once he realized who it was. The man was being overly gentle—not to his girlfriend, but to his mother.
The call didn’t last long. Taekjoo sighed as soon as he hung up and gathered the device to stash it away.
Then he suddenly looked up. He met eyes with Zhenya, who had been smirking down at him the whole time.
It was so obvious what he was dying to say, but Taekjoo pretended he hadn’t noticed.
He put away the briefcase and sat back down.
And Zhenya started roasting Taekjoo right away.
“I’ve always wanted to see what a mama’s boy looked like. Who knew, he’d be right in front of my eyes.”
“It’s always people who know nothing that speak like they know everything.”
“Was it too close to home?”
“Believe me, I wish it was as simple as being a mama’s boy.”
Taekjoo shook his head in frustration. Zhenya didn’t care about other people’s families.
He wasn’t the least bit interested. The man was usually as rigid as a wooden log.
But he had softened like cotton candy—just for a moment—before turning back into a log again.
Zhenya couldn’t help but be curious. Why was he taking on the tiring role of being a mama’s boy?
“I’m all ears,” said Zhenya.
“You have no idea how hard it is being the last one alive. You carry all the love, worry, and expectations your family had for the ones who are gone—doubling, even tripling, the weight already on your shoulders. You know she’d have a breakdown from all the worry, so you lie about everything,
hide the truth, and pretend to be fine. If my mother finds out where I am and what I’m about to do, she’ll keel over. She thinks I’m in some remote region, working for the local gover—”
Taekjoo suddenly stopped mid-sentence. Surprisingly, Zhenya was absorbed in Taekjoo’s story and frowned when he stopped.
“Why’d you stop talking?”
“It’s not important.”
Taekjoo leaned back and shut his mouth. He picked up a thick book. It was his way of saying he was done speaking. Zhenya reached out and closed the cover Taekjoo had just flipped. Again, their eyes met.
“We have all the time in the world to talk,” said Zhenya.
“Well, I’m not bored enough to drag you through my family history. I brought a lot of books with me, you see.”
Taekjoo gestured at his bag, and indeed, there were enough books to entertain him for six days.
Zhenya smirked, then scanned Taekjoo from head to toe. His eyes lit up like he’d just been hit with something new and exciting. Taekjoo pretended not to have seen it. He even picked up another book and offered to lend it to Zhenya.
“No thanks. I’m not really interested in a one-way conversation. If I get bored, I’ll just bring in a woman.”
Right—thought Taekjoo to himself.
He shook his head and fixed his eyes on the book. Zhenya didn’t bother him anymore but simply left the compartment. As always, he didn’t tell Taekjoo where he was going—despite being partners on the mission.
Zhenya left, and he closed the door behind him. Taekjoo’s eyes, which had been fixed on the book, moved toward the door. The tension in his shoulders finally eased. He would still tense up whenever Zhenya studied him with scrutinizing eyes.
Taekjoo could see the destroyer inside Zhenya—the violent monster he was hiding inside.
Now and then, the monster would surface—revealing a barbaric cruelty usually buried deep in his core.
He was like an apex predator, letting its prey roam free only to savor the thrill of the eventual hunt.
Taekjoo’s survival instinct dictated that he should stay away from Zhenya.
No matter how often he reminded himself they were on the same side, he couldn’t let his guard down.
***
After twelve hours, the train reached the border between Mongolia and China.
Even before it came to a stop the train was buzzing with restlessness in anticipation of the border inspection.
Although considered easier than the Russian border checks, the inspection here still took an average of three hours.
Sometimes, it lasted even longer, leaving passengers with no choice but to remain locked inside the train the entire time.
The train came to a complete stop, and the border control agents boarded.
They patrolled in teams: one border control agent, one customs officer, and two police officers.
Each team thoroughly searched its assigned zone.
They scrutinized all kinds of forms and documents and compared the pictures in passports and their owners.
Bag checks and pat-downs followed. Most searched within a reasonable degree, but some were extra thorough.
They would order each piece of luggage to be pulled out and opened up.
They would look under the bed, drawers, and even trash cans.
In the meantime, no one was allowed in or out of the train, and no one could sleep peacefully while the inspection was going on.
Things weren’t different for Taekjoo and Zhenya. The two men sat in the cramped compartment, facing each other. They weren’t really talking, having just woken up. They didn’t feel like reading either. Half-conscious, half-asleep, they simply waited for their turn to come.
Truth be told, of all the passengers on the train, these two had the most reason to be nervous.
They were carrying Colts, portable explosives, and other pieces of advanced tech.
Taekjoo and Zhenya had hidden them ahead of the inspection, but they were up against seasoned, expert border patrol officers.
In the worst-case scenario, if a Colt were found, the situation would get out of hand. They couldn’t let their guard down.
To make matters worse, there was something else that bothered Taekjoo.
It was Zhenya’s leg between Taekjoo’s knees.
Sitting on opposite beds and facing each other, it was inevitable that their long legs would overlap.
While Taekjoo’s leg stopped around Zhenya’s thighs, Zhenya’s leg, on the other hand, was pressing deep between Taekjoo’s legs.
Too deep. A little bit more, and his knee would touch Taekjoo’s groin.
Taekjoo, annoyed, stared at the intruding knee. The look was clear enough for anyone to understand—assuming they understood basic social cues. However, this was Zhenya, and he simply returned the gaze. He didn’t move at all.
“Move.”
After patiently waiting for a long time, Taekjoo finally made his demand.
“It’s not my fault my legs are long.”
Zhenya shrugged and gave his cheeky response.
He didn’t even bother pretending to move.
Well, since Taekjoo was the one feeling uncomfortable, then it made sense that he moved.
But he did not, either. He wasn’t gonna let Zhenya play him around.
There is no better retaliation against bullies than ignoring them.
Taekjoo looked outside and showed no reaction. He yawned a couple of times, feeling drowsy. No fun at all—Zhenya said, sulking at Taekjoo’s boring reaction. Even then, Taekjoo pretended not to hear, picking at his ear.
That was when it began getting noisy outside the compartment.
here was some rustling outside, and soon after, the inspectors entered.
They first handed in their passports. Taekjoo was still using a fake identity of a Japanese, but a different one this time.
Sakamoto Hiro had been reported missing after the hotel explosion, so Taekjoo had switched to a new Japanese identity.
After checking their passports and forms, the inspector gave them back.
Then, the baggage inspection began. Zhenya was not worried in the least bit. He looked very confident. Taekjoo also tried to keep his cool as best as he could.
“...?”