Lake Baikal, the blue heart of Siberia, boasts a history spanning more than twenty-five million years. Its area alone covers 12,165 square miles, with a diameter of 395 miles and a circumference of 1,367 miles. This colossal lake holds twenty-two islands—Olkhon being the largest and only inhabited one.
Traveling to Olkhon requires careful timing, as the vast lake can only be crossed during two seasons—winter, when it is frozen solid, or summer, when it becomes a body of flowing water. People crossing it in summer travel by boat, but during winter, cars drive on the surface of the frozen lake.
There were no roads or paths on the lake, but that didn’t stop Zhenya from driving straight across it. He could have chosen a smoother route and avoided driving on the uneven surface of the ice, but the man, in his usual stubborn fashion, insisted on driving in a straight line. Because of his pigheadedness, the entire vehicle bounced nonstop across the ice. But Taekjoo didn’t complain—he simply stayed quiet. It felt like solid ground—just another stretch of the road—but in reality, they were suspended above bottomless water. Taekjoo knew the ice beneath them was thick, yet he couldn’t shake the anxiety that it might give way.
Fortunately, Taekjoo’s worst nightmare didn’t come true—at least, not until they reached Olkhon. Even the mighty Baikal succumbed to the brutal temperature of -50°C.
They got out of the car. Taekjoo turned to look back at the way they had come. The world, buried in snow, was so silent that a pin drop would echo. Time seemed to have stopped. For a brief moment, Taekjoo was left speechless, overwhelmed by the sublime beauty of the endless icy expanse.
Starting from the dock, there was no defined road or path—just the tracks left behind by previous vehicles. Wherever they went became the road. Taekjoo and Zhenya carved their own path through the untouched snow.
The target had been on Olkhon for quite some time already. They followed the blinking red dot, riding along the side of a mountain. In the distance, there stood a lone mansion. It was small compared to the Bogdanov residence, but considering the size of the island, it was a noticeable establishment.
The car pulled up just out of sight of the mansion. On the screen, the blinking red dot now completely overlapped with the tracker’s location. Hong Yeowook was definitely here.
Taekjoo leaned forward, placing his head between the driver’s and passenger’s seats to get a better look at the place.
“Is that it?” he asked.
“I think so,” Zhenya responded.
Taekjoo first checked the CCTV cameras placed in every corner. He couldn’t find a single blind spot.
“I don’t think we can just barge in there.”
“Why not?” Zhenya asked.
Taekjoo looked at his partner in disbelief. Why not? Was he being serious?
The mansion wasn’t just located on Olkhon Island. It sat atop a cliff with a steep, sheer drop. The wind whipped fiercely around the island, funneled up the cliffside, and rose with almost violent force. This made any aerial approach nearly impossible. As of now, there wasn’t even a pipe or ventilator that could be used to gain entry. CCTV cameras were densely installed along the gates and the concrete fence, with remotely controlled automatic rifles mounted below.
“Don’t you see that? What—are you going to tell me you got nine lives?”
Taekjoo’s intention was obviously to mock him, but Zhenya raised his chin high, his expression growing increasingly proud. Once again, Taekjoo didn’t mean these words as a compliment, but it was pointless trying to convey this through facial expressions. At some point, Taekjoo looked away. The idiot was starting to puff out his chest and widen his shoulders. Taekjoo cringed internally, feeling secondhand embarrassment as Zhenya shamelessly showed off.
“It’s enough that we know where Hong is for now. Busting in through the front doors is just a crazy idea. I suggest we stay nearby and assess the situation first.”
Zhenya agreed without making a fuss, then swerved the wheel and drove off in a different direction. Of course, he didn’t share any details about their new destination. Zhenya drove without hesitation, even though there were barely any signs indicating the way. He didn’t need a map either—he seemed to know the area well.
Taekjoo kept staring at the blinking red dot as it moved farther away from him. Then, the car lurched violently to one side. The car jolted to a stop on the steep slope, tilting so sharply It nearly flipped. Did something jump out in front of them? Taekjoo wondered as he straightened up. Then, Zhenya abruptly threw open the door.
“Out.”
Taekjoo was confused by the command. Was Zhenya planning to camp out here? He looked around, but there was no sign of a house. Gripping the passenger seat, he stared at Zhenya. Zhenya was about to close the door and head toward the trunk, but he paused when he noticed the unrelenting glare Taekjoo was shooting at him. He leaned in, met Taekjoo’s eyes with infuriating calm, and smirked.
“I’m not going to eat you, so get out of the car.”
Zhenya wasted no time making fun of Taekjoo. Taekjoo couldn’t afford to show weakness—not after hearing that. With a grumble, he got out of the car. The moment his feet hit the ground he realized how much the vehicle had shielded him from the biting wind. Wearing only a shirt and jacket, he instinctively hunched his shoulders and clenched his jaw, worried that if he opened his mouth, his teeth would start chattering uncontrollably. It was surprising how the human heart didn’t freeze in such cold.
Meanwhile, Zhenya retrieved a fur coat from the trunk and put it on. The coat was so exquisitely crafted that it surpassed even those made from the hide of freshly hunted animals. While Taekjoo stood still with his body pressed against the car door, shivering from the cold, Zhenya walked past him and started marching in a direction. When he noticed Taekjoo wasn’t following, he glanced back. Taekjoo forced himself to move, responding to Zhenya’s unspoken urging to hurry up.
Climbing uphill from the other side was no easy task. They had to face the roaring wind head-on, which had already ridden the slope and gained momentum before descending on them. Taekjoo would take a step forward, but the snow beneath his feet would push him back, reversing his progress. He tried to catch his breath, yet it felt like he was inhaling more ice than air, making it difficult to breathe.
Taekjoo gritted his teeth, recalling his time in the army’s special forces as he climbed the hill with all his might. It didn’t take long for him to realize why Zhenya had brought him here. At the foot of the hill, there was an inn. It didn’t seem to have many rooms, but in their current state, the two would be grateful for whatever the inn had to offer.
The wind roared again in the brief moment they paused. Taekjoo had been trailing behind Zhenya like a cow being dragged to the slaughterhouse. But once he saw the inn, he overtook Zhenya in an instant. Inside, the innkeeper was sitting at the front desk. She looked shocked and confused by Taekjoo’s appearance—a foreigner with a bandaged head, wearing only a light shirt in such weather.
“How can I help you?”
“A r-room...” Taekjoo stuttered, his teeth chattering from the cold.
“Do you have a reservation?”
The innkeeper looked at him like he was a ghost. Taekjoo barely managed to respond, trembling from head to toe.
“No, I don’t. Are there no rooms available?”
“It’s peak season right now, so while we do have rooms, we usually don’t accept walk-ins. How many rooms do you need? One?”
“Absolutely not. Two—we need two rooms.”
Taekjoo emphasized his request, repeating himself. He even raised two fingers to make sure the innkeeper understood him, in case his pronunciation wasn’t clear. He couldn’t bear to be in the same space as Zhenya for even one more second. He had made peace with sticking with Zhenya during the mission, but not during his downtime. On his break, Taekjoo wanted peace and comfort.
Unfortunately, the innkeeper didn’t look very cheerful. Oh—she exclaimed. A sorry look flashed in her eyes as she glanced at Taekjoo. No, Taekjoo must be imagining things. He had to be—because the alternative was unthinkable. He focused all his senses on the innkeeper’s lips.
Then, the door opened again, and Zhenya walked in. The strands of fur on his coat fluttered as if each of them had a life of their own. Just then, the innkeeper delivered the devastating news.
“There’s only one room left.”