Codename Anastasia Novel (End) - Chapter 8

Is there anything more futile than asking a child about their future dream? One night, a president might become a lawyer, then a doctor, then an astronaut, then a celebrity, constantly changing careers and specializations.

Young Kwon Taekjoo was no different. He never even imagined he would become an NIS agent until the day he entered the college entrance exam hall.

His older brother was different. From the time he first began to speak clearly, his dream was unwavering: to become a soldier, just like their father. Their mother, who had been relieved when he picked up a book at his first birthday grab, would often lament, “Who knew it would be a military theory book?”

Their mother wished both her sons would not become soldiers, or anything similar. Her maternal grandfather prioritized national affairs over family matters, and through his introduction, she married a soldier early on. Thanks to that, their mother said she never remembered sleeping soundly in her sixty years of life. On days their father left for an operation, she would hug her young, blood-like children and worry all night. She must have wanted to spare her sons from enduring such hardships.

But don’t they say no child ever turns out as their parents wish? His brother ultimately turned away from his mother’s expectations. He voluntarily joined the navy and died in the line of duty during an operation. That was already more than ten years ago. It was from then that his mother became almost obsessively attached to Kwon Taekjoo, who was now virtually her only son. Immediately after his brother’s funeral, she clutched Kwon Taekjoo, hammering in repeatedly, “You cannot.” But Kwon Taekjoo couldn’t grant her wish either.

According to NIS job regulations, an employee’s identity is kept secret. The same applied to direct family members, including parents. Even if it wasn’t just for that reason, he couldn’t tell his mother honestly. She was a woman who had lost her father, husband, and eldest son to the country. If she knew that her only remaining kin wielded guns and knives more often than chopsticks, she wouldn’t be able to bear it. She believed Kwon Taekjoo was just a low-level civil servant in a small provincial city. She wouldn’t dream that he was heading to Moscow, disguised as a Japanese national.

Recalling past events with his eyes closed, he suddenly took out his phone. As expected, a message from his mother had arrived.

[Son, have a delicious lunch. Fighting today too!]

It was a greeting that arrived around noon every day. If there was no reply, she would contact him again right after his supposed work end time. Sometimes, she would even call. It seemed he would have to reply as soon as he landed. Something like, “It’s Monday, and there were a lot of complaints, so I was swamped,” should suffice. He had become adept at reinforcing his mother’s belief.

Putting his phone back, he checked the time. It had been nearly nine hours since he boarded the aircraft. Looking at the remaining distance on the monitor, it seemed it would take about another hour to arrive. It might be a good idea to check his mask around now. He immediately got up from his seat.

Just then, the restroom was empty. As he opened the door to enter, he heard a sudden murmuring. It was from the economy class section. He peered through the gap in the curtain to check the situation. A passenger and the flight attendants were having an argument. It seemed someone had drunk a lot of alcohol, claiming it was free. He quickly lost interest and entered the restroom. As he locked the door, the overhead light came on.

He looked at the utterly unfamiliar face reflected in the mirror. The current Kwon Taekjoo was, to anyone, Sakamoto Hiro. Even his ears were modeled and applied from the other person’s. Only his jet-black eyes remained his own.

He turned his head this way and that, running his hand over his skin. The feel of the artificial leather against his hand was just like his own skin. While he was at it, he smoothed down his flattened hair and washed his hands. After drying his hands with a paper towel, he was just about to step out. Suddenly, something crashed into the back of the door.

The impact was so strong that the ceiling lights flickered. Immediately after, the outside became even noisier. The flight attendant’s voice asking, “Are you alright?”, the sound of frantic footsteps, and a man’s incomprehensible shouts were all mixed together.

He unlocked the door and pulled it open with a yank. The man who had been leaning against it flopped into the restroom.

“Ugh… what the f—!”

The sprawling man was quite tipsy. He was a typical Russian. In his hand, he held a half-finished bottle of vodka. It seemed he had opened duty-free alcohol onboard. He had wondered who would be shameless enough to drink free alcohol until they were drunk, but this guy was even worse.

He silently looked down at the man flailing for a long time. Only the flight attendants were flustered for no reason.

“Sir. Please get up. I’ll help you.”

“Oh, really? How dare you touch me? Let go! Ah, I said let go!”

“Kyaak!”

The man shoved the flight attendant who tried to help him up. The flight attendant who was pushed away, as well as the others, all looked bewildered. It seemed there was no one immediately capable of subduing this large Russian. Nor any righteous passenger willing to help the flight attendants. Stepping forward himself would be troublesome. While he hesitated, a flight attendant frantically called the cockpit.

Typically, if such a disturbance occurs onboard, the aircraft makes an emergency landing at the nearest airport. In that case, not only the problematic drunk, but all passengers must disembark. Furthermore, luggage inspection and boarding procedures would have to be redone from the beginning. Waiting for several hours until the aircraft was re-serviced or an alternative flight was arranged was standard.

He preferred not to meddle in other people’s affairs. He also didn’t want to do anything that would draw attention. However, it was just annoying that his original plans were being disrupted and he had to endure all that troublesome effort because of someone so shameless.

He snatched the back of the drunk, who was still leaning against his leg.

“Why don’t you get up for a moment?”

“…Ugh!”

The man, forcibly pulled up, was dragged into the restroom. He was pushed straight forward, hitting his backside on the toilet and tumbling down. As the fallen man’s arm stuck out of the door, a low cry burst out from the passengers. Those sitting in the front seats hurriedly got up. The flight attendants repeatedly asked them to sit down, but no one complied. Eventually, calls started pouring in from everywhere.

A venomous look appeared on the face of the man staggering to his feet. The man smirked with his flushed face. He roughly wiped the saliva from his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Oho… so you want to fight, huh?”

He merely wiggled his finger at the panting man. The man, who had been grinning foolishly, suddenly hardened his expression and charged. He was exactly like an enraged bison.

Kwon Taekjoo instantly wrapped his arm around the man’s neck and tucked him under his side as he tried to ram into him. The man, whose neck was suddenly seized, squeezed Kwon Taekjoo’s legs with both arms and lifted him up in one go. His intention was to slam him directly into the ceiling.

The flight attendants watching squeezed their eyes shut. In an instant, the surroundings fell silent. But after a little more time passed, the predicted sound of impact was not heard. The passengers who had retreated blinked their eyes. The expected sound came a little later.

It was the large man who fell, not Kwon Taekjoo. The large man, whose vital point had been attacked, was still limp, his neck held. Kwon Taekjoo only released his arm after completely subduing him. Then he kicked the shoulder of the unconscious man and pushed him out of the restroom. Suppressed screams burst out again from the passengers. Indifferent, he unhurriedly walked out, brushing off his wrinkled jacket.

“What’s going on?”

Around then, the co-pilot, who had been briefed on the situation, appeared. He alternated his gaze between the sprawling man and Kwon Taekjoo, then shifted to the flight attendants. Kwon Taekjoo returned to his seat as if he knew nothing. Click. The sound of buckling his seatbelt announced the end of the commotion.

The flight attendants, who had been distraught dealing with the drunk, were now busy appeasing other passengers who were raising complaints and objections. The co-pilot’s situation was no different.

“We apologize, sir.”

“Were you very startled? I’ll bring you a warm cup of water.”

“It’s safe now. Please don’t worry.”

“We apologize, we apologize.”

Such words could be heard repeatedly beyond the closed curtain. An apology announcement for the repeated disturbance also flowed.

He ignored it and tried to close his eyes, but the co-pilot and chief purser approached. They seemed like they were about to express gratitude for his help. He deliberately preempted them.

“Can we land on time?”

“Ah, unfortunately, it’s already been reported to air traffic control. We have to wait in the air until the airport authorizes our landing. The estimated arrival time will also be delayed by about an hour.”

It had come to this after all. He frowned and nodded perfunctorily. Then he immediately put on his headset. Despite his indirect refusal to converse, the two conveyed their heartfelt thanks before returning to their respective places.

The passengers who had been complaining until then all quieted down as if by arrangement when the aircraft shook due to turbulence. Even without being asked by a flight attendant, they fastened their seatbelts and held their breath, sitting up straight. Some even muttered prayers.

Thanks to that, he was able to spend about an hour in silence. His ears were ringing, making it hard to close his eyes and rest. As he tediously killed time, a welcome in-flight announcement played.

[Shortly, our aircraft will be arriving at Moscow Domodedovo Airport. The current local time is 4:11 PM. The weather is cloudy and overcast, and the temperature is minus 13 degrees Celsius. We sincerely apologize for any inconvenience caused to passengers due to an unexpected disturbance during the flight. Thank you for flying with Japan Airlines today, and we look forward to serving you again soon. Have a safe journey to your final destination. Thank you.]

However, even after the announcement, the aircraft hovered in the air for a while longer. It was past 5 PM when they finally landed.

He followed the crowd to immigration. He wasn’t particularly nervous. Crossing borders disguised as someone else was sickeningly familiar.

The inspection finished in an instant. The officer merely glanced at him, asking no questions. Everything was smooth until he retrieved his luggage and exited into the arrival hall.

Outside the exit, people who had come to meet guests, family, or relatives were lined up. Even though he was visiting by invitation from Russia, his arrival was a day earlier than the main group. Therefore, he planned to go to the hotel without a separate escort.

But then, a paper with “Sakamoto Hiro” written on it suddenly caught his eye. Even after taking off his sunglasses and looking again, it was indeed that name, written once in Chinese characters and again in English. Below it, the company name ‘Itochu Corporation’ is also listed.

When he stopped, the man holding the paper lit up with joy.

“Sakamoto-san?”

“Yes. And you are?”

He replied somewhat unenthusiastically. A hearty laugh spread across the man’s face.

“Good day! My name is Vasily Aleksandrovich, and I work in Gazprom’s Public Relations Department. I heard you would be arriving early today, so I came to welcome you.”

He abruptly offered a handshake. Kwon Taekjoo tilted his head, looking at the hand extended towards him.

“I didn’t receive any such contact…”

“You didn’t receive contact? How could that be? We definitely informed your company this morning. Your company also said they would relay the news to Mr. Sakamoto.”

Vasily confidently asserted that he was right. Realizing something, Kwon Taekjoo asked for a moment, excusing himself. He hurriedly checked his work phone. He had just assumed the continuous messages were roaming messages or notices from the embassy/consulate, but there was a message from Director Im mixed in. It contained information that Gazprom would come to meet him, just as Vasily claimed.

“Ah… you’re right.”

“There must have been some misunderstanding, then? Anyway, you’ve worked hard coming such a long way. But you’re quite a bit later than scheduled, aren’t you?”

“There was a small disturbance on the flight.”

“Did another drunk cause a commotion?”

“…How did you know that?”

“Well, it’s common for hot-blooded Russian men, like vodka. You must have been very startled. Is that all your luggage? I can carry it for you.”

“No, thank you. I’ll carry it.”

“Ah, yes. This way, then.”

He wasn’t awkward even after his offer was refused. Instead, he just cheerfully led the way, as if something good had happened. Slowly, Kwon Taekjoo followed behind him. He didn’t know how or where things had gotten tangled, but thinking about it, it was a natural course of action. Whether with the main group or separately, the fact that Sakamoto Hiro was a VIP remained unchanged. Thanks to that, only Kwon Taekjoo had a headache. He was going to have to keep playing Sakamoto Hiro until they reached the hotel.

They arrived at a black sedan that was waiting for them, following Vasily. A man came out of the driver’s seat and bowed. Then he took Kwon Taekjoo’s bag and put it in the trunk. Vasily himself opened the back door. Kwon Taekjoo awkwardly squeezed himself in amid the extreme hospitality. As Vasily got into the passenger seat and closed the door, the sedan left the airport as if it had been waiting.

His whole body felt stiff from the long flight. He leaned back deeply into the seat and closed his eyes for a moment. It was a silent signal not to bother him with unnecessary talk. However, Vasily instead sat with his body turned halfway towards him.

“Are you very tired?”

“A little, due to the time difference.”

When he reluctantly replied, Vasily questioned him meticulously: how was the in-flight meal, was the seat comfortable, were the flight attendants presentable? He even rattled off anecdotes he had experienced on flights. Kwon Taekjoo merely generally ignored it all, his head turned towards the window.