4. The Trans-Siberian Railway #10
This was what he told himself. Still, he couldn’t help the anxiety creeping in once his target vanished from sight.
If Zhenya had been a real partner, they could’ve taken shifts for 24-hour surveillance.
Taekjoo blamed himself. He knew what kind of an asshole Zhenya was.
He should’ve kept an even closer eye on Hong.
Instead, he fell for Zhenya’s trick. Taekjoo regretted what he’d done. He was almost running from the anxiety.
He pushed out of the second-class car, weaving through a sea of people and luggage. Right before him stood the third-class compartment. It was cramped to begin with, and now that the train had stopped, it was basically a madhouse. Taekjoo took a deep breath, bracing himself before opening the door.
“Waaaaaaaaaahh!”
A baby’s loud wail was the first to welcome Taekjoo.
There wasn’t even floor space to step on.
The trapped air smelled foul. The passengers were either stretched out, tired from the train ride, or chatting to pass the time.
Vendors wore hardened expressions, focused solely on unloading and sorting their wares.
It was a challenge just to make it through the narrow space.
Looking for Hong at the same time felt almost impossible.
Taekjoo’s eyes scanned quickly as he waded through the sea of luggage.
He checked every face, prodded at bags, making sure he missed nothing.
He looked everywhere, but Hong was nowhere to be found.
Was he in the restroom? Or in the dining car?
He smoothed out the fresh wrinkles in his shirt and made his way to the dining car.
He stepped into the dining car, greeted by the warm aroma of coffee.
It was breakfast time, but There weren’t many people, which made it easier to look around.
People sat spaced far away from each other.
Among them, the only Asian was a woman sitting alone.
And there was no way that she could be Hong in disguise because of the difference in physique.
He wouldn’t have had enough time to disguise himself as a Caucasian either.
In the end, Taekjoo eft the dining car empty-handed.
Just then, a sudden thought made him tilt his head. Never mind Hong, but Taekjoo hadn’t seen Zhenya either. He had looked everywhere thoroughly. He was too big to be missed. Where the hell was he?
Taekjoo kept asking himself as he stared out the window.
The train rolled on, past endless fields of snow.
Sporadic trees stood draped in white, like they’d been tucked in.
Everywhere the sunlight touched, everything it fell upon sparkled as if sprinkled with gold.
Taekjoo stared blankly, organizing his thoughts.
That was when he heard it.
“...?”
Taekjoo turned his head to look and saw that there was a restroom.
It was mostly used by second- and third-class passengers—and just now, Taekjoo had sensed movement inside.
He stepped closer and pressed his ear to the door—but heard nothing.
He pulled out his phone and held it near the door.
Through his earphones, he caught only the faint sound of fabric brushing against the door. Was it Hong Yeowook? Or Zhenya?
Taekjoo tried the doorknob without hesitation, but it was locked from the inside.
It was strange. Passengers on the Trans-Siberian weren’t allowed to use the restroom for 10 to 30 minutes before major stops.
And in major stops like Irkutsk, restrooms were usually barred for thirty minutes.
Taekjoo had left his compartment about forty minutes before the arrival, which was over twenty minutes ago.
Which meant less than twenty minutes remained until the stop.
Who could be inside the restroom that was supposed to be locked up?
It could be a staff. But still, Taekjoo had to check himself.
He took a couple of steps back and pulled out his Colt from his side, aiming at the door.
That was when he felt the back of his head contract, hair standing on end.
It was instinctual. Taekjoo turned and looked back.
Even as his sight quickly whirled, he caught a man in his vision.
A hoodie covered his head, a mask his face.
Taekjoo couldn’t see who it was. He didn’t hesitate and aimed his gun at the man.
Almost instantly, the man raised his own gun and aimed back. The long arms crossed midair.
Who is that? Is it Hong Yeowook?
Taekjoo half-pulled his trigger, trying to identify the man. But at that exact moment, something heavy hit the back of his head.
“Argh!”
His vision snapped to black—the world shattered like glass. The ambush had come out of nowhere. He didn’t hear the restroom door open, let alone a person moving.
Taekjoo swayed while holding his head. Warmth trickled down the back of his neck. He must be bleeding. It didn’t take long for him to smell the rusty blood in the air. Even as the world swayed around him, Taekjoo stayed vigilant. He kept aiming between the man and the restroom door.
But that didn’t last long. Taekjoo’s knees buckled. His body, barely hanging on, gave out. He tried to push himself up, straining against the floor. But it was a useless. His body was limp, and he couldn’t move at all.
His vision blurred, shadows shifting all around him. He couldn’t make out faces or shapes—just silhouettes in motion. And yet, a powerful sense of déjà vu washed over him.
Just before blacking out, Taekjoo thought he saw Zhenya.