Codename Anastasia Novel (End) - Chapter 29

‘Take good care of your mother. I trust you, my sons.’
Father would always bid them farewell with these words every time he left the house. To young Kwon Taekjoo, that greeting felt oddly unsettling. He couldn’t say why, but it seemed as if it wouldn’t be strange if his father never returned. Indeed, the greeting his father delivered every morning became his last will.

Mother wailed incessantly before his father’s memorial portrait, utterly distraught. Kwon Taekjoo unconsciously recoiled from her piercing cries and incoherent screams directed at an unknown target. He must have been suddenly terrified. At that time, what shocked Kwon Taekjoo more than the despair of never seeing his father again was the unfamiliar sight of his mother.

His older brother was different. Though not an adult himself, he was more composed than anyone else there. He carried out the duties of chief mourner faithfully, as if he had been prepared for it to some extent. It was also he who comforted their mother, persuading her to eat. After the funeral, he remained unshaken by the expectations, worries, and responsibilities that fell upon him from those around them. He was an upright and proper person. To his mother, he became a reliable presence to lean on, and to his younger brother, Kwon Taekjoo, a comfortable shade. Thanks to him, Taek-joo hardly felt his father’s absence.

There wasn’t much interaction between the brothers. This was partly due to their six-year age gap, and partly because his brother was often away from home due to his profession. They were neither especially close nor completely estranged. That was the relationship between the two brothers.

They rarely contacted each other unless something unusual happened. So, his brother’s sudden call one day felt strange. He instinctively knew something must have happened to his brother, but he merely said it was a welfare call. Throughout the conversation, no significant remarks were made.

‘I won’t be able to come home for two months after this voyage. Take care of Mother for me.’
Their last conversation was no different from any other. Yet, something felt unsettling. Kwon Taekjoo himself couldn’t pinpoint why. Perhaps it was just a needless worry, as nothing happened to his brother or their family for a while afterward. So, Kwon Taekjoo quickly cast aside the unease in his heart.

Accidents always strike without warning. They always hit you when you let your guard down. That day was precisely like that. The call came late at night. Even after clearly hearing what the other person said, he couldn’t believe it. He thought he was having a nightmare. He didn’t know how he managed to find his way to the designated location. Neither his mother nor Kwon Taekjoo were in their right minds.

When they finally arrived, many people were gathered. Military personnel, bereaved families, reporters, or onlookers. His memory after that is unclear. All he could recall was staring blankly, lost in a chaotic mix of despair, sorrow, and rage.

He slept fitfully while guarding the funeral bier. Neither sleeping nor waking was of his own will. In between, he dreamt. His father and brother appeared. Both repeated similar words, as if by agreement. He felt overwhelmed by the constant exhortations. When he covered his ears, they began to yell, demanding a reply. Both of them were in the incomplete, grotesque state they had been in at the moment of their death.

When he woke up, his mother was already sitting beside him. Contrary to his worries, his mother, who had fainted upon identifying his brother’s body, looked like her usual self. At least on the surface. She tightly grasped Kwon Taekjoo’s hand, who was suffering from nightmares. She gently stroked his sweat-soaked hair.

‘Now, your mother lives only for you.’
A strange glint flashed in his mother’s eyes as she vowed.

He gasped sharply and opened his eyes. Fine, trembling eyelashes appeared in his suddenly widened vision. A constant vibration echoed in his head. He felt dizzy. The surface of the object against his skin was cold and hard. It seemed to be a window. He watched the rapidly passing scenery outside the car window, blinking his eyes on and off. The scattered buildings, cars abandoned by the roadside, and dense trees were all stark white. It looked like a city made of snow.

Was he still on the train? No, he felt none of the distinctive sounds or vibrations of rolling on rails. Yet, he was moving against his will. He had no memory of transferring to other transportation in between.

“Are you awake?”
As he fumbled to understand the situation, a familiar voice reached him. Through the rearview mirror, his eyes met the man in the driver’s seat. He knew who it was just by the curving eyes. It was Zhenya.

“How did this… Ugh!”
He groaned from a dull ache echoing in the back of his head. When he carelessly touched the back of his head, he felt a bandage. A faint memory of the last moments surfaced.

He had gone looking for the missing Hong Yewook and was ambushed by a duo. Has he been unconscious ever since? He had no idea how much time had passed, how he got off the train, what kind of car he was in now, or where they were going. He couldn’t guess a single thing.

He stared at the rearview mirror, as if seeking an explanation.

“A lot happened while you were passed out.”
Zhenya’s eyes curved again. He looked like he was about to hum a tune. Kwon Taekjoo merely glowered at the seemingly amused man, offering no retort. The things that happened while he was unconscious interested him enough that such teasing was irrelevant.

However, Zhenya didn’t fully resolve Kwon Taekjoo’s questions.

“You don’t remember anything?”
“Nothing at all.”
“Good. That’s probably for the best. It’d be too embarrassing if you remembered clearly.”
“Stop beating around the bush and just tell me.”
“Well, if you’re so intent on humiliating yourself, I won’t refuse. I went to the cabin and you weren’t there. The bathroom was empty too. I waited a few minutes, but you didn’t return, and I couldn’t reach you. Feeling uneasy, I went to look for you myself. And sure enough, you were sprawled out in front of the toilet, weren’t you?”
“…Hong Yewook suddenly disappeared, so I went to look for him and got ambushed. Those two, they seemed to be a team. Did you see their faces, by any chance?”
“Well. Should I say I did?”
“Either you did or you didn’t. What’s with that vague answer?”
“I didn’t have time to get a good look. They were all smashed up.”
For some reason, Kwon Taekjoo was certain Zhenya had played a large part in that outcome. He wouldn’t have lost his temper upon seeing his fallen partner. He shouldn’t expect that kind of camaraderie or sense of justice from Zhenya. Zhenya had simply found an excuse for some long-awaited fun.

He shot Zhenya with a gaze full of sarcasm.

“Self-defense, purely self-defense.”
Zhenya explained in his characteristic languid tone. Kwon Taekjoo wasn’t even shocked anymore by his brazen rationalization.

“You must have identified and dealt with their identities, right? Was it true that Bogdanov’s men sent them?”
He secretly hoped it was. Zhenya immediately said, “No,” and stated it unequivocally. The ensuing answer was entirely unexpected.

“I think they were skinheads. You know them, right? The guys who act up, wanting to create a world for white people only.”
“…What?”
“You got robbed by those types.”
That couldn’t be. He was sure one of the gang members was Hong Yewook. After all, he hadn’t found him even after thoroughly searching the train. When they brazenly attacked him as soon as they encountered him, he was convinced his tail had been discovered. The man in the black jersey even possessed a state-of-the-art firearm, leaving no room for doubt.

But their identity was simply skinheads, and Kwon Taekjoo just happened to cross paths with them at that time? This was Russia, so it wasn’t an impossible story. It was just the timing that felt suspiciously coincidental.

Even assuming Zhenya’s words were 100% true, his doubts remained. If Hong Yewook wasn’t one of those two, where on earth had he vanished to? From the previous night until morning, the train hadn’t stopped even once. Kwon Taekjoo had begun searching for the train for Hong Yewook before they even arrived in Irkutsk. The only place Hong Yewook, who had vanished in such a short time, could hide was the forbidden toilet.

That wasn’t the only strange thing. While searching for Hong Yewook, he hadn’t encountered Zhenya either. If Hong Yewook and Zhenya were unrelated to the attacking gang, where were they during that time? Had they been hanging onto the bottom or ceiling of the moving train?

Kwon Taekjoo’s eyes, fixed on the rearview mirror, sharpened.

“Where were you then?”
“Are you doubting me? Or are you complaining that I wasn’t there when you got attacked?”
“I searched the whole train for Hong Yewook. But neither he nor you were there.”
“You searched the whole train… really? You never showed up where I was.”
“What do you mean?”
“You didn’t come to the conductor’s office.”
“Conductor’s… office?”
He froze for a moment. He felt blindsided. Of course, he hadn’t gone to the conductor’s office. To be precise, he hadn’t suspected that place from the start. Unless the conductor was a woman, there seemed to be no reason for Zhenya to visit there. But if he really had been there, it explained why he hadn’t encountered Zhenya despite searching the entire train. Still, his questions weren’t entirely resolved.

“What were you doing there?”
“Unlike someone who completely passed out and forgot his mission, I was observing Hong Yewook all night. At some point, he suddenly left his seat. This was at a time when he’d usually be reading, and before we even reached our destination. It felt deeply suspicious, so I went to his carriage and met the woman in charge there. I asked her if she had seen him, and she answered readily. She said he asked how to change his final destination from Irkutsk to Moscow. And she told him to meet the conductor, as is customary, right?”
If one wishes to change their itinerary while onboard a trans-Siberian train, they can do so by meeting the conductor. This method was typically used when traveling beyond the original intended destination. However, Hong Yewook had bought a ticket to Moscow from the beginning. Even if there had been some error, there was no reason to meet the conductor unless he was extending his journey. He could simply get off at his desired location and refund the remaining fare at the station there. What was most unusual was his concern over the small ticket price, especially when he was concealing his identity.

Perhaps.
A hunch flashed through his mind. He immediately stared into the rearview mirror. His eyes seemed to be confirming whether his guess was correct. Zhenya nodded readily.

“Yes. He was in the conductor’s office. The conductor was Bogdanov’s contact.”
It felt like he had been utterly blindsided. Was that what ‘contacting Hong Yewook in the middle’ meant? He had thought they would put a separate contact on board. Of course, he had considered the possibility that the contact might be disguised as an ordinary traveler from the start. It wasn’t that he hadn’t suspected the crew members. However, no matter how immense their power, he hadn’t given much thought to whether they would manipulate public personnel for their convenience. It was a miscalculation.

It seems there’s always someone better. The tension that had stiffened his shoulders drained away.

“So what happened to them? You didn’t miss them, did you?”
“Perhaps, perhaps not.”
Kwon Taekjoo was in a serious situation, but Zhenya was being ambiguously playful. Kwon Taekjoo, losing what little patience he had, snapped.

“Tell me straight.”
“To give you the conclusion first, Hong Yewook did not get off in Irkutsk.”
“Then?”
“After meeting the conductor, he took a waiting helicopter and flew off. He simply vanished from the moving train.”
“Is that possible?”
“Nothing’s impossible if you’re willing to risk half your life.”
Indeed, it wasn’t physically impossible. He was just taken aback by a method he hadn’t considered at all.

Hong Yewook went to the conductor’s office under the pretext of changing his itinerary. The conductor, who was the contact, called for a waiting helicopter at the opportune moment. Adjusting the train’s speed to allow Hong Yewook to board safely would have been no trouble. At that point, the train was approaching Irkutsk, so no passenger, including Kwon Taekjoo himself, would have found it suspicious if it moved slower than usual.

Hong Yewook leaves by helicopter, and the train continues to Irkutsk. Even if any pursuers belatedly looked for Hong Yewook, he would have already disappeared. The conductor, being the contact, would simply head to Moscow as if nothing had happened.

All of this happened while Kwon Taekjoo himself was aimlessly loitering near the toilet. His vision blurred. He had considered the possibility of losing Hong Yewook. But not like this. Not letting him go so futilely. Frustrated, he needlessly pressed Zhenya.

“And you just watched him?”
“What else? Should I have caught the flying helicopter and brought it down?”
It was an absurd idea, yet somehow, it felt possible for Zhenya. He could easily picture him snatching the helicopter like catching a dragonfly. Rather, it was harder to believe that Zhenya had let Hong Yewook slip away right before his eyes.

He wasn’t the type to let intended prey escape so easily. Unless he had deliberately let him go. At least, the Zhenya he had seen so far was like that. As if to confirm that he hadn’t been entirely wrong, Zhenya admitted that he had let Hong Yewook go on purpose.

“I let him go because I didn’t think I needed to catch him right away. There’s also no need to let them know they have a pursuer.”
“What makes you so confident?”
As soon as he questioned it, Zhenya tossed him something. He caught it instinctively; it was a tracking device. A red dot blinked on the coordinates displayed on the monitor.

“What is this?”
“My confidence.”
“Did you attach a tracking device to Hong Yewook?”
“Such shallow tricks are easily discovered.”
“Then?”
“I fed it to him.”
“…Fed him?”
“I observed what he ate for the past few days. He only ate a little bread. It seemed Russian food didn’t suit his taste. When other Asians around him started enjoying instant Chinese noodles, he seemed quite interested. So, I asked the woman who handled snacks for a favor.”
Did he put a miniature tracking device into instant noodles and sell them to Hong Yewook? Since Hong Yewook had only eaten dry bread for days, he must have craved something soupy. If the soup was even spicy, his guard would have been lowered more easily. As a Korean, Kwon Taekjoo found this entirely plausible.

Reluctant to admit it, Zhenya’s judgment was right this time. If they had forcibly stopped Hong Yewook, Bogdanov’s side would have become aware of their presence. Then, for the sake of secrecy, they might have altered their original plan.

In that case, it was far more productive to let Hong Yewook escape as planned and then pursue him. The primary objective of this operation was to ascertain the identity of ‘SS-29,’ not to disrupt Hong Yewook’s contact with Bogdanov.

Zhenya suddenly said, “One day should be enough.” That also meant they only had one day. By the time Hong Yewook excreted all the food he had eaten, the tracking device would become useless. He could only hope Hong Yewook reached ‘SS-29’ before then.

The target continued to move southeast. Looking at the sign outside the window, it was in the direction of Lake Baikal. He couldn’t tell if that was the true destination or if they planned to change their route again from there. The good news was that the distance to Hong Yewook was gradually narrowing.

The wagon they were in sped across a vast plain. There was no sign of other vehicles or even people on the road. Was it due to a temporary lack of blood to his head? Even though it wasn’t the situation for it, he felt hazy.

Dense cypress groves appeared on both sides of the road. The snow thickly covering the dry branches made the already quiet landscape feel even more desolate. Everywhere he looked, there was only white snow and trees.

Beyond even the cypress forest, an endless snowfield unfolded. The accumulated snow made the road’s boundaries unclear. The wide-open space felt suffocating at the same time. A sense of hopelessness washed over him, as if he would never reach anywhere.

He constantly moved his eyes, searching for signs of life. Soon, he spotted a flock of sheep. Being a cold region, their wool was especially long and shaggy. The occasional wooden houses they encountered had steep roofs, built to withstand heavy snowfall.

As they drove tirelessly across the vast snowfield, it gradually sank in. The two of them were now in the middle of Siberia.

“Is your head alright? I stapled it.”
Zhenya asked unexpectedly. When he looked in the rearview mirror, their eyes met instantly. He unconsciously touched the bandage on his head.

He didn’t know what he had been hit with, but the impact was such that it wouldn’t have been surprising if his skull had fractured. Yet, there was hardly any blood on the bandage. He didn’t know for sure, but it seemed the suturing had been done quite well. What was bothering him was the ambiguous identity of the person who had stapled him with medical staples.

A doctor, he thought. Of course, it must have been a doctor. Could there really have been no medical staff on that long train? He might have been transferred to a hospital as soon as they arrived in Irkutsk. The more he rationalized, the more the ominous feeling grew.

“Who?”
“Me.”
The answer he had least expected came back. The thought of having been completely unconscious and in Zhenya’s hands sent a shiver down his spine. He could clearly picture the expression on Zhenya’s face as he meticulously inserted each staple. He had wondered why Zhenya was acting so concerned about someone else.