Codename Anastasia Novel (End) - Chapter 19

According to the mansion’s floor plan, there was a door leading from the pantry to the backyard. And trash was usually disposed of in places not easily visible. There was no place more suitable for that than the backyard.

He lifted the heavy trash can. The kitchen staff were all too busy to pay attention to others. He circled around the counter and entered the pantry. Directly opposite, he saw a small door. The door was locked from the inside, so there was no problem getting out. The only thing he had to worry about was the tight security outside. Sure enough, as soon as he opened the small door and stepped out, a bodyguard blocked his way.

“What’s going on?”

“Oh, because of the trash… If I don’t dispose of it right away, our chef is about to erupt.”

The bodyguard scrutinized Kwon Taekjoo and the trash can he was holding alternately. Eventually, his gaze passed Kwon Taekjoo and flew into the storage room. Through the open door, the chef’s hysterical shouts could be heard. The bodyguard, with an understanding expression, gestured for him to go. Kwon Taekjoo bowed and walked towards the trash disposal area.

While shaking out the food waste, he looked down at the entire building. If the two ministers and Psikh Bogdanov were having a secret meeting, the first floor, where the party was in full swing, was not suitable for that. Of course, even excluding the entire first floor, there were still many remaining rooms.

Kwon Taekjoo, surveying the mansion, fixed his gaze on the end room on the third floor. All the room’s curtains were closed at night, but for some reason, this room was an exception. He didn’t know why, but it felt unsettling to just pass it by. It seemed best to at least check it briefly.

He plotted a general movement path. There were too many eyes inside, so it would be better to move outside instead. The security in the backyard was relatively sparse, and the building’s shadow provided a perfect hiding spot. Of course, he had to deal with the guards first.

Kwon Taekjoo returned to the storage room, carrying the empty trash can. The previous bodyguard was still patrolling the vicinity. At Kwon Taekjoo’s approach, he turned around without suspicion.

That’s when it happened.

“…Ugh!”

He shoved the trash can over the bodyguard’s head. His vision suddenly obstructed, the bodyguard immediately raised his gun. Kwon Taekjoo kicked his hand with his knee. The dropped gun spun in the air and settled into Kwon Taekjoo’s hand.

As soon as the bodyguard threw the trash can from his head, Kwon Taekjoo punched him in the face. The bodyguard groaned heavily, clutching his nose, and fell. It seemed his nose was broken from the direct hit to the face. Kwon Taekjoo, grimacing as if he felt the pain himself, struck the opponent’s vital spot to reliably knock him out. Then, he hid his body close to the outer wall, in the building’s shadow. He looked around, but no one seemed to have detected anything suspicious.

Now, all that remained was to climb the building. There were two ways: rappel down from the roof, or climb up from below. Luckily, or perhaps thanks to the cumbersome exterior, there were plenty of places to step. They had put annoying effort into security at the front, but the back was surprisingly lax. Thankfully.

Shall I climb up then? He pushed back his shirt sleeve and pulled out his wrist watch. He pressed the side button with the front of the watch pointed towards the roof. A nylon string shot out, slicing a long arc through the air. He tugged on the string, which had gone impossibly high over the building, to check it. It was taut, as if securely caught somewhere.

He pressed the side button again. The motor inside the watch activated, and the string rewound to a certain length. Relying on his left arm for support, he began climbing the exterior wall like a rock climber. He slipped a few times because of the smooth soles of his shoes, but that wasn’t a major problem. Instead, the increasing gravity as he climbed was burdensome. The watch pressed hard against his wrist. It felt like his right wrist, and then his left, might dislocate.

It was a nylon string used to reel in large tuna. It wouldn’t break easily. Of course, there were always exceptions. If it repeatedly chafed against sharp gold ornaments, even the toughest string’s strength couldn’t be guaranteed. And that was precisely the case now.

Suddenly, a sound like a bowstring snapping echoed in his ears. Simultaneously, his left arm, which had been painfully taut, went slack.

“…!”

Falling. He tightly shut his eyes, anticipating the impending impact. His vision was instantly cut off. His entire body instinctively tensed, and all his senses sharpened. His hair stood on end. But after a while longer, the expected pain never came.

He slowly opened his eyes. Kwon Taekjoo’s body hung precariously in mid-air. Just as the rope broke, he had managed to grab the third-floor window sill, avoiding a fall. The nylon string that had supported his body now dangled limply to the ground.

He let out a sigh of relief. That was close. Though it was nothing compared to when he almost fell from a skyscraper nearly 110 meters tall. He waited for his temporarily constricted muscles and nerves to stabilize, then used sheer brute force to pull himself onto the window sill. Then, he quietly held his breath and surveyed the room.

“…Ha.”

He couldn’t hide his sense of futility. Despite his arduous climb, the end room on the third floor was empty. There was no sign that anyone had been there.

He turned his head sideways and looked at the other rooms. Given the mansion’s size, each one was considerably large. It wasn’t easy to move around on the same floor. Would he be able to find Psikh Bogdanov and the two ministers within the given time? Just as he was getting lost in thought, a crackling sound echoed in his ear.

Hey. Where are you?

Zhenya’s voice followed. Only then did he remember the communicator. He sat on the window sill for a moment and sighed.

“Having a grand old wild-goose chase.”

If you’ve had your fun, now listen carefully.

He was about to ask, ‘What do you mean?’, when he suddenly heard the sound of a door opening. The sound of that door closing again resonated loudly. He didn’t know why, but he instinctively lowered his posture and focused on the detected movements. Faint snippets of conversation, infinitely smaller than the door sound, were occasionally heard.

The voices he perceived were all different. At least three people seemed to be participating in the conversation. The voices transmitted through the communicator differed from their actual sound. Therefore, it was difficult to confirm whether Psikh Bogdanov was there. He decided to listen to their intimate conversation a little longer.

How is the progress of the SS-29?

We are awaiting word from Soncheff. They say they are looking for an expert to fix the SS-29’s flaws. Given that he didn’t attend the party today, he must be quite busy with that. He said he’d contact us soon, so let’s wait.

What did North Korea say about this defect?

They said it was an unexpected problem. They claimed there were no such errors during experimental research.

A triumphant smile spread across Kwon Taekjoo’s lips. In Russia, names in the “SS-number” format usually referred to intercontinental ballistic missiles, ICBMs. For example, “Satan,” widely regarded as the most powerful ICBM during the Soviet era, was officially designated “SS-18.” Therefore, the “SS-29” currently under discussion was likely also such a nuclear weapon.

And “Soncheff,” mentioned in the conversation, was a Slavic mafia group. The weapon “SS-29” seemed to be in the hands of that group’s dealer. It was obvious that he was close to the Bogdanov family. Otherwise, such a conspiracy wouldn’t be happening at the Bogdanov mansion today. Furthermore, North Korea seemed to be involved in the development of this weapon. Could “SS-29” be “Anastasia,” after all?

What about the Americans?

Still quiet. They must have stronger suspicions since we eliminated the rat that snuck in, but what difference does that make? They can’t even retrieve the body.

Was the “rat that snuck in” referring to the dead Morgan? The secret development of a nuclear weapon in Russia, North Korea’s involvement, America’s surveillance, and the eliminated spy. All the circumstances aligned. However, it was just a suspicion; there was still no concrete evidence.

The conversation ceased for a moment. Then, the sound of a door opening and closing was heard. Has someone else entered? He vaguely wondered, but Zhenya relayed the situation inside the room.

Bogdanov just left the room. Seems like he has a phone call.

Kwon Taekjoo said “Ah,” then tilted his head. A question he hadn’t realized while eavesdropping suddenly popped up. Just where was Zhenya right now? How did he know Psikh Bogdanov’s movements so clearly?

“How did you do that just now?”

Oh, a woman named Olga just offered to give me a tour of the mansion. Why would I refuse? While following her, I shoved a bug into the keyhole of the room where those bastards were gathered.

‘Olga’ was Vissarion Romanovich’s youngest daughter. Olga Visarionovna.

At this point, he was more curious about Zhenya’s identity than ‘Anastasia.’ Just what kind of person was this bastard to be openly invited to such a party and to freely roam deep within the highly guarded Bogdanov mansion?

“Where are you now?”

In the underground control room.

“What are you doing there?”

Watching. Them and…

He paused for a moment before continuing.

You, who almost fell headfirst from the third floor.

A faint laugh was embedded in his voice. Immediately, Kwon Taekjoo turned his head, searching for something. Before long, a CCTV camera installed in the corner of the outer wall came into view. He unhesitatingly raised his middle finger towards the shining lens. A hearty laugh erupted from the other end of the communicator.

After laughing wildly for a while, Zhenya reprimanded him with an absurd tone.

Why on earth are you in that absurd place?

He didn’t reply. There was no real excuse.

Looking at his watch, it was almost 3 AM. Psikh had left the room to take a call, so it must have been an important call that took precedence over official duties. Naturally, he recalled a part of the conversation he had just overheard.

“Was the call Psikh took from ‘Soncheff’?”

Well, I don’t know. It wouldn’t hurt to check. I noticed a landline phone at the end of the second-floor corridor touring the mansion. Bogdanov’s office also has one. Of course, the lines are different, so calls directly to his office can only be received there.

“But you can make it accessible, right?”

He glanced down and asked. The place Zhenya mentioned wasn’t far from his current location. It was just outside the door of a room on the floor below. The key would be the guard placement, but access itself didn’t seem difficult.

Yes. If you can move from where you are to there in 8 seconds.

It seemed the line had already been connected. The important thing was timing. He just needed to reach the phone in 8 seconds and pick up the receiver in the corridor at the exact moment Psikh picked up the receiver in his office. Of course, it was easier said than done; even a slight misstep would cause a lot of trouble.

He nodded towards the CCTV. Then, he suddenly pulled out a piece of gum and popped it into his mouth. As he stepped onto the window sill, the wall pressed against his back as if pushing him. There was no time to prepare additional safety devices. Eight seconds was not a long time. Kwon Taekjoo took a shallow breath and then jumped towards the ground.

As he fell, he grabbed onto something. It was the second-floor window sill. His finger joints, wrist, and elbow all ached from the impact of the fall, but he gritted his teeth and pulled himself up. Three seconds had passed by the time he safely landed on the window sill.

Not bad, eh?

Zhenya, observing from a distance, chuckled. While he was struggling between life and death, the bastard was just staring at a monitor and grinning.

Ignoring him, he pulled out his lighter. At first glance, it looked like a regular Zippo. However, when he opened the lid and pulled out what looked like a small screw, a long, thin tube emerged. He bent it into an L-shape and lit the lighter. A flash of light erupted from the end of the tube. He first stuck the gum he was chewing onto the windowpane. Then, using the lighter’s flame, he drew a perfect circle around it. After finishing the work, he gently pulled the gum, and the neatly cut circular glass came off silently. He carefully placed it on the window sill, then put his hand through the hole to unlock the latch. Click, the window opened. He surveyed the surroundings once before stepping inside.