The entire city was under lockdown following a mysterious bomb explosion at the Bogdanov residence. Only emergency vehicles were allowed on the roads.
There had been two explosions—one in the manhole by the garage and another on the third floor of the mansion. The blasts destroyed a room and injured a few security staff. The police closed nearby roads based on reports of intruders. An explosion in the heart of Moscow, at the mansion of the most powerful family in Russia, drew journalists and bystanders to the scene. Soon, the area was packed with people.
The bomb squad, which went in first, came out to be relieved by firefighters. Given the mansion’s enormous size, they had to check thoroughly for residual fires. The firefighters moved quickly and efficiently to their assigned areas.
Dmitri, one of them, kicked down a nearby door and entered a room at their captain’s signal. The room seemed almost untouched by the explosion, but the firefighters checked carefully to ensure no one was inside.
Dmitri had just turned toward the cracked windows when the ground beneath him exploded, launching him high into the air.
“AAHHHH!”
His body dropped with a heavy thud, and Dmitri stifled his shriek behind his mask. Groaning in pain, he felt a sharp blow to the back of his head and lost consciousness.
The one who emerged from the room was not Dmitri but Kwon Taekjoo. He quietly fled the scene, taking advantage of the chaos. Thanks to the protective gear, no one suspected him.
Luckily, two fire trucks had made it all the way into the garden. Taekjoo climbed into the passenger seat of one.
“Dmitri? What are you doing here? Decided to take the day off?”
Dmitri’s senior officer scolded him from the driver’s seat. Then, when he caught a glimpse of the stranger’s face behind the mask, he flinched. Taekjoo didn’t miss the moment and jabbed him in a vital spot. The firefighter slumped over the steering wheel, robbed of even the chance to fight back.
Taekjoo took the driver’s seat. He had to leave the scene as quickly as possible. He started the engine and steered the vehicle. A nearby police officer approached with a questioning look.
“Excuse me, where are you going?”
“There’s a problem with the hose. It won’t take long for me to get back with a new one.”
Taekjoo came up with a slick excuse. After seeing how much fire had already been contained, the officer nodded and let him go without further questions. He even stepped aside to clear the way for Taekjoo. Thanks to the officer, Taekjoo managed to leave the scene without trouble—at least until he reached the main road.
A traffic officer stopped the fire truck and inspected the vehicle carefully before asking a probing question.
“Your name and your department, please.”
Obviously, Taekjoo had no idea. He hesitated, unable to answer. The officer eyed him suspiciously, then spoke into his radio with a stern expression, occasionally glancing at Taekjoo. Gradually, all the nearby officers fixed their gaze on Taekjoo. They subtly gripped their guns and slowly closed in, circling him. It was only a matter of time before Taekjoo’s cover was blown. He had no choice. He would just have to push through.
Taekjoo made up his mind and hit the accelerator. The vehicle revved loudly as the tires screeched. The officers, who had been creeping forward slowly, abandoned their tactics and ran to block the fire truck. But the truck was unstoppable—it knocked down barricades as it barreled forward. The officers had no choice but to jump out of the way as the truck sped forward like an angry bull. Bullets rained down from behind.
The hail of gunfire shattered the side mirrors and even the windows. Taekjoo leaned forward, flattening his chest against the steering wheel as he kept speeding. The massive fire truck charged ahead like it would crush everything in its path.
His plan was to reach the Korean embassy. He had no solid backup plan, nor was he certain the embassy would protect him. It was merely a way to buy more time. Yes, this was Russia, but even Russian authorities couldn’t just barge into another country’s embassy, which could spark a serious diplomatic incident. Taekjoo planned to hide there and use the time to find a way back home.
In no time, dozens of police cars were tailing him. Sirens blared from every direction, the police swarming after him like angry bees.
Taekjoo kept speeding. Soon, a sharp turn appeared ahead. He should have hit the brakes, but instead, he turned the steering wheel in a wide arc. The huge truck couldn’t handle the speed and began to slip and slide. Taekjoo gripped the wheel tightly, fighting against the overwhelming pull of inertia. The screeching truck spun, crushing the guardrails, but still managed to stay on the road. But the police cars chasing Taekjoo were either swept away by the massive truck or flung outward, plunging into the river.
Taekjoo had cleared one obstacle, but the next came immediately, leaving him no time to catch his breath. More police cars appeared on the opposite side of the road. They were so determined that they even drove the wrong way. If Taekjoo kept this up, he’d be surrounded any moment now.
He considered his options, then turned sharply into a narrow alley beside the road. The alley was so tight that the truck was about to get stuck. The truck’s exterior sparked as it scraped against the walls. It shook and rattled violently, and the worse it got, the harder Taekjoo pressed the accelerator. The truck kept shaking, yet forced its way through the narrow space.
The officers behind opened fire. The water tank was soon punctured, and the road was drenched instantly.
Taekjoo suddenly veered back onto the main road. The police blindly followed him again. He kept going, then suddenly slammed the brakes. The police chasing him hit their brakes as well, but the road was slick with a film of water from the fire truck. Every car lost traction and began to skid, the trailing vehicles crashing into the ones ahead. The last police car slammed into another and was sent airborne. Taekjoo watched the chain reaction of crashes before continuing on his way.
Not long after, the familiar sound of flapping propellers reached Taekjoo. Helicopters had been deployed on this mission. One helicopter circled overhead, warning Taekjoo it would open fire if he didn’t surrender. Either way, Taekjoo figured he’d die, so he ignored the warning and crossed the bridge. Just a bit more, and the Embassy of the Republic of Korea would come into view.
In the end, the helicopter fired. Taekjoo swerved sharply. The relentless bullets shredded the passenger seat and punctured the water tank. Black smoke billowed from the engine. Taekjoo struggled so hard to keep the truck running he didn’t even notice the blood running down his arm. The truck lost control and spun. Through the dizzy blur, Taekjoo spotted the embassy building.
Just a bit more. Just a bit.
He clenched his jaw and pressed the accelerator as the engine roared its final cry.
“Dammit!”
The embassy was right in front of him, and the sirens had grown much closer. The helicopter circled overhead like a vulture waiting for its prey to die. Taekjoo had no other choice.
He grabbed the wheel and shut his eyes tight, keeping his foot pressed on the accelerator. The fire truck smashed through the embassy gates and into the grounds. A low wall and guardhouse were smashed apart with a noise as loud as an explosion. The impact slammed into Taekjoo’s body like a storm.
A cloud of yellow dust rose, and suddenly everything was so quiet Taekjoo could hear a pin drop. The police sirens blared. The propellers still whirred. But Taekjoo couldn’t hear a thing.
“Ugh,” he groaned.
He could barely lift himself off the wheel. His gut felt sore, like he’d been punched square in the middle. He took deep breaths, surveying his surroundings. The fire truck he’d driven had crashed against the embassy wall and was lodged there. In the rearview mirror, he saw police officers flooding out of their cars—but they couldn’t just march into the embassy.
Taekjoo grabbed his Colt and slammed it against the cracked windshield, its glass webbed with fractures. The shards hung loosely and shattered easily. He removed the sharp pieces, dulled the edges of the windshield, and crawled forward.
Taekjoo had risked his life to reach the embassy, but inside it was eerily quiet. It was a weekday during working hours, yet no one was around. Which way should I go? Taekjoo wondered, standing alone in the empty hallway. He decided to head for the ambassador’s office. With every step, bright red blood dripped onto the floor. Taekjoo limped, his ankle throbbing.
After a long walk, he finally reached the office without seeing a single soul on the way. Taekjoo knocked on the closed door, frowning. No answer came. He pulled the doorknob down carefully. To his surprise, the door wasn’t locked.
Inside the office, four desks were arranged in two pairs on either side. The setup looked like it belonged to the secretaries, but there was no one there. Only a half-finished cup of coffee and an unattended computer screen showed someone had been there moments ago.
Taekjoo moved deeper inside. A double door appeared. It looked like it led to the ambassador’s office. Taekjoo was about to knock, but the door swung open inward as soon as his hand touched it. It clearly hadn’t been properly closed.
In front of him stood a large, stately desk, and a high-backed chair was turned toward the window. Someone was sitting in it. Taekjoo felt relieved to see someone and stepped forward.
Just then, a muffled groan came from somewhere nearby. It sounded like someone was shouting for help. Taekjoo was certain that the muffled words were Korean. He looked around, following the sound, and found a bolted cabinet. He wasn’t hearing things—something kept thumping inside the cabinet, rattling the locked door. Taekjoo suddenly felt dizzy at the strange sight. His instincts went into overdrive, with sirens blaring in his head.
His legs wouldn’t move, however. His entire body stiffened. A bad feeling slowly crept up his spine. Every cell in his body was on high alert, focused on the chair facing the window.
As if on cue, the chair slowly turned around. Taekjoo stopped breathing. The ground seemed to give way beneath him.
The person in the chair was not the ambassador. It was Zhenya, and as he faced Taekjoo, a cruel smile spread across his lips.