chapter 11

Eun-jae sighed as he rummaged through his suitcase, pulling out a random shirt and slipping it on. His damp hair clung to his forehead, but he didn't care. His thoughts were a tangled mess, replaying the events of the day over and over again. "I need to get in touch with the agency before Director Jin swallows me whole," he thought, rolling his eyes as he grabbed his laptop and set it on the desk.

Opening the laptop, the screen lit up, and within moments, a video call request from Director Jin popped up. "Of course, she's already waiting," Eun-jae muttered under his breath before clicking to accept.

The director's face appeared on the screen, her expression sharp and unimpressed. "You're late."

Eun-jae let out a heavy sigh, leaning back in his chair. "I just arrived at the hotel, Director. And in case you care—which I doubt—I was attacked."

Jin's brows furrowed. "Attacked?"

"Yes, attacked," Eun-jae repeated, emphasizing each syllable as if talking to a child. "Are you sure the man you said was supposed to pick me up from the airport was the correct Igor?"

The director's frown deepened. "Yes, Igor was supposed to pick you up. Why? What happened?"

Eun-jae pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly to keep his patience intact. "Were you even listening? I said I was attacked. By Igor. Or at least someone pretending to be him. It's like you knew this would happen, Director."

Jin's eyes narrowed, her voice taking on a defensive edge. "Nonsense. Why would you think that? Did you hit your head on something during the attack?"

Eun-jae crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow at her through the screen. "Oh, so now I'm delusional? Perfect. Let's just gloss over the fact that I was almost kidnapped or killed because of some mix-up."

Jin leaned forward, her gaze intense. "I'll look into it. But let's clarify something first. Did your plane experience any delays?"

Eun-jae paused, his mind racing. "Yes, it did. We landed nearly an hour late."

Jin nodded as if confirming a theory. "That explains it. Nikolai must have already arrived, and the people who took you weren't ours. They were impostors."

The realization hit Eun-jae like a cold splash of water. "So... Nikolai is a real person?"

"Yes," Jin confirmed, her tone matter-of-fact. "He's an operative stationed in Moscow."

Eun-jae's jaw tightened as he processed the information. "And instead, I walked right into a trap because of your shoddy planning."

Jin's lips thinned. "Watch your tone, Eun-jae. You were briefed before you left. Did you even bother to read the files or listen to what I told you over the phone?"

Eun-jae scoffed, leaning closer to the screen. "Oh, you mean the part where you casually mentioned I'd be impersonating Nikolai? Or the part where you conveniently left out that I'd have a target on my back the moment I landed? Forgive me for not memorizing every vague detail."

Jin sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Listen carefully. Nikolai is not just some random operative. He's highly trained, and his name carries weight in Moscow's underground circles. The people after you likely know Nikolai by reputation, and if they suspect you're not him, you're as good as dead."

Eun-jae raised an eyebrow, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Great. Love that for me. Anything else you conveniently forgot to mention?"

Jin's expression hardened. "This isn't a game, Eun-jae. You're in hostile territory, and the only reason you're still alive is because they probably aren't entirely sure who you are yet. Stay vigilant. You need to act like Nikolai—walk like him, talk like him, be him. Or you won't last a day."

Eun-jae leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as he processed her words. "Fantastic. So, I'm supposed to impersonate some legendary operative with enemies around every corner. No pressure."

Jin's tone softened slightly, though her words remained firm. "Eun-jae, you're one of our best. That's why you were chosen for this mission. But if you're going to survive, you need to take this seriously. Trust no one, and stay sharp. Moscow is a chessboard, and right now, you're playing against grandmasters."

Eun-jae let out a dry laugh. "Grandmasters, huh? More like psychopaths with too much free time."

Eun-jae paced back and forth in his hotel room, the dim glow of the lamp casting long shadows against the pristine walls. His phone was pressed to his ear, his frustration mounting as Director Jin's voice crackled through the line, calm and commanding as always.

"I was attacked, not just by Igor but by someone entirely different. Like... like a killer," Eun-jae began, his voice tinged with both anger and desperation. He needed answers, not skepticism, and definitely not more assignments. "Can you look into it for me?"

Director Jin's pause on the other end felt endless. Finally, he spoke, his tone sharp and almost condescending, "Do you even know what this killer looked like?"

Eun-jae faltered. He hated admitting he didn't have the full picture, but the truth was unavoidable. "No, bu—"

"Then how, do you expect me to look into it if you can't even give me a description, Helix?" Jin interrupted, the sound of his coffee cup clinking against a saucer cutting through the silence like a knife. Eun-jae could practically see him sitting in his office, all smug and untouchable, sipping his overpriced coffee while casually brushing off the fact that Eun-jae had nearly died.

"Listen, I'm very sure it was Bes Ilay," Eun-jae said, his tone firm despite the growing irritation gnawing at him. He wasn't some rookie to be dismissed like this. He had instincts, damn good ones, and he knew what he was talking about.

"How sure are you, really?" Jin replied, his voice laced with doubt. "Nikolai, on the other hand, has more enemies than I can count. For all we know, it could've been one of them mistaking you for him."

Eun-jae froze, Jin's words hitting him like a slap to the face. He hated admitting it, but the director had a point. It wasn't beyond reason that some enemy of Nikolai's could've been behind the attack. His impersonation of Nikolai wasn't exactly flawless, and the people chasing after him weren't fools.

He sighed internally, running a hand through his hair as Jin continued speaking. "Ah, yes, before I forget, we'll be assigning you a second agent."

"What?" Eun-jae snapped, his irritation spilling over. "That wasn't mentioned before."

"Well, now it's mentioned," Jin said dismissively, the sound of papers shuffling in the background. "He's Russian and familiar with the surroundings. You'll need the backup. I've sent the file again—go through it. And before you argue, yes, all 900 pages of it. You need to be fully prepped. There's a program coming up, and you'll have to wear the mask and go in as Nikolai again."

Eun-jae opened his mouth to protest, but the line went dead before he could get a single word out. Jin had hung up on him. Typical.

A soft chime on his phone alerted him to the new file. He opened it reluctantly, scrolling through the document that seemed to go on forever. Pages upon pages of intelligence, dossiers, operation plans, and coded messages. "Nine hundred goddamn pages," Eun-jae muttered under his breath, flopping onto the couch with an exaggerated groan. "Does he think I'm a goddamn machine? Who has the time to memorize all of this? Is he out of his mind?"

He threw his phone onto the coffee table and glared at it as though the device itself were responsible for his misery. His thoughts spiraled into a tirade, fueled by both frustration and exhaustion.

Who even writes a 900-page file? Is this some sort of sick joke? Does Jin sit in his office, sipping his fancy coffee, thinking, "Oh, you know what Helix needs? Homework!" Like I don't already have enough on my plate, dodging bullets and pretending to be some Russian mobster. Now I'm supposed to become a walking encyclopedia on Nikolai too?

He ran a hand down his face, groaning audibly. "I should've gone into accounting," he muttered to himself. "Or maybe flower arranging. Hell, anything but this."

The sheer absurdity of the situation almost made him laugh. Almost. Instead, he leaned back on the couch, staring at the ceiling, trying to will himself into some semblance of calm. But his thoughts kept racing, the irritation bubbling just beneath the surface.

And who is this second agent? Russian, familiar with the surroundings... great, just what I need—someone else breathing down my neck, probably judging every move I make. What's next? Jin sending me a babysitter? Maybe a team of them, just to make sure I don't screw up. Honestly, it wouldn't surprise me.

Eun-jae let out a long sigh, picking up his phone again. He scrolled through the file reluctantly, skimming over the first few pages. There was no way he was going to read all of this tonight. He'd glance at the important bits, the mission-critical stuff, and maybe, maybe, skim the rest tomorrow. For now, he needed a drink. Or ten.

He grabbed the pack of cigarettes he'd bought earlier, lighting one with a flick of his lighter. The smoke curled lazily in the air as he exhaled, his mind still racing but his body finally starting to relax. The next few days were going to be hell, and he knew it. But for now, he'd take this small moment of peace, however fleeting it might be.

Eun-jae stepped into the opulent dining hall, his footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. The air smelled faintly of aged wood and the tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee. The warm light from the chandeliers bounced off the polished mahogany tables, giving the room an air of understated extravagance. At the far end, a table of sharply dressed men sat, their conversation ceasing the moment he approached.

"Mr. Ivanov," one of them greeted with a faint smile, his voice carrying the clipped efficiency of someone who wasted neither words nor time. "Are you feeling any better? I heard you were in a terrible accident the day you arrived in Moscow."

Eun-jae's lips curled into a faint, practiced smile. "I'm fine. Sorry to worry you." His tone was smooth, perfectly modulated, betraying none of the irritation bubbling beneath his calm exterior.

The man who spoke, a silver-haired executive with cold, calculating eyes, leaned forward slightly, clasping his hands on the table. His presence exuded power, the kind that demanded obedience without needing to raise his voice. "No, we're sorry you had to go through that."

Sure you are, Eun-jae thought, resisting the urge to sigh. These men didn't care about his well-being; they cared about what his injury might mean for their business. He maintained his polite demeanor as another man chimed in, his expression stiff.

"No, you don't owe me an apology," Eun-jae replied smoothly, his voice tinged with diplomacy. "I should've been more careful." The words tasted like ash in his mouth, but he delivered them with the grace of a seasoned negotiator.

As the table delved into polite chatter about mergers and quarterly reports, Eun-jae tuned them out. His sharp eyes flicked to his watch, a sleek silver piece that gleamed under the soft light. The luncheon is at noon. Luncheon—ugh, could they sound any more pretentious?

Half an hour crawled by, yet the man of the hour, the elusive CEO of Volkov Energy, was still nowhere to be found. The tension at the table grew palpable, though the men disguised their unease with forced smiles and sips of whiskey.

Eun-jae suppressed the urge to scoff. Leave it to someone like Volkov to show up late to his own luncheon. I'd bet good money he's sitting in some luxury suite upstairs, laughing about making us wait.

'"What the hell do you mean you're sending someone instead of the CEO? You think time is on our side, eh?!" a man's voice thundered across the room, sharp and cutting through the air like a knife. Eun-jae's attention shifted from the lukewarm coffee in his hand to the figure pacing furiously near the windows, phone pressed tightly to his ear.

The man's tone didn't falter as he unleashed his anger. His words were biting, filled with frustration, and a kind of authority that didn't need to be announced. "I don't care if it's a scheduling conflict or the apocalypse—he should've been here himself. If you don't fix this, I swear, heads are going to roll!"

Eun-jae leaned back in his chair, tilting his head ever so slightly as he observed the man. His sharp eyes took in every detail, from the tailored suit that screamed "expensive as hell" to the way his hand gripped the phone as though it was the source of all his problems. Hmm… Is that one of the board of directors? Or just someone who thinks yelling makes them more important? Eun-jae mused, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.