Chapter 116: The Victims' Club 2

TL: LittlePeach

Just before leaving NIS headquarters, Bureau Director Yun Tae-seong handed me a satellite phone and gave me one instruction.

‘I’ve temporarily granted you my authority. Wherever you go, the Diplomatic Mission Intelligence Bureau agents stationed there will follow your orders.’

The phone already had the contact information for the team leaders in Italy and Switzerland saved in it.

Bugak No. 1 and Halla No. 1, respectively.

I called Bugak No. 1 first.

Ring, ring, ring.

Click.

-I’m on the line.

“This is Pak Mun-ju. I just left the airport.”

-Yes, Secretary Pak. We’ve been waiting for your call.

This operation depended on speed, but maintaining secrecy was just as important.

Thanks to that, Bugak No. 1 had no idea that I was actually a black agent in disguise, and his attitude toward me was impeccably respectful.

-Come out to the taxi terminal. Look for a license plate starting with FA 3.

When I stepped outside the airport, I spotted a black sedan already waiting for me.

Click.

The moment I climbed into the back seat, the car pulled away.

Vrooom.

“Welcome to Italy, Secretary Pak. I’m Bugak No. 1. I’ve been ordered to escort you.”

When it came to acting, staying in character was everything.

Right now, I was Secretary Pak Mun-ju, a man who had followed the most elite career path the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea had to offer.

“You’ve worked hard.”

I acknowledged the man’s greeting with an arrogant nod and leisurely looked out the window.

There was no reason to beat around the bush, so I got straight to the point.

“Before leaving South Chosun, I separately asked the Diplomatic Mission Intelligence Bureau director to prepare something for me. Did you bring it?”

“....”

Bugak No. 1’s expression instantly turned awkward behind the wheel.

He glanced at me through the rearview mirror, then hesitantly nodded.

“I don’t know how you knew to ask for something like this, but... yes. It’s on the passenger seat.”

“Thank you.”

A 007 briefcase rested on the passenger seat.

Even before I brought it into the back seat, I could hear something rolling around inside.

Click.

Clatter, clatter.

Five or six grenades rolled around the bottom of the case, knocking their heads together as though greeting me.

‘Hae-chan!’

‘It’s Hae-chan!’

‘Hae-chaaaan!’

They were the leftover grenades I had abandoned, shopping bag and all, in the sedan I had borrowed from the Taebaek Team agents.

I could almost hear their adorable little voices ringing in my ears.

For a moment, I pictured the Bugak Team agent who must have nearly had a heart attack bringing these things over.

‘Come to think of it, I think I forgot the LPG gas cylinder in the back seat too.’

There was another present inside the briefcase besides the grenades.

A charmingly compact pistol that fit snugly in my hand, a Walther PPK.

It was a classic among classics, an indispensable fixture in everything from the 007 series to practically every spy movie ever made.

‘They definitely put this in here on purpose.’

As I stuffed the pistol, suppressor, and spare magazine into the inside pocket of my jacket, I addressed Bugak No. 1 in a relaxed voice.

“How does Bugak Team plan to handle this operation?”

“First, we’ll arrive at the accommodation reserved under your name, Secretary Pak. You’ll spend the night there while we monitor the movements of the North Korean inspection team that infiltrated Italy.”

I could feel Bugak No. 1 glancing at me through the rearview mirror.

He continued in a cautious tone.

“Two Bugak Team agents are currently tracking the inspection team inside the North Korean Embassy in Italy in real time. If we detect any large-scale movement from the embassy, we plan to get you out of the accommodation immediately and head for Rome’s train station.”

“Wouldn’t that make our movements easy to track?”

“That’s why we have five other vehicles waiting near the accommodation, all completely identical to this one, right down to the model and license plate. Even if the assassination squad gets on our tail, that should be enough to split their attention and throw them into confusion.”

Bugak No. 1 swallowed dryly as he continued his briefing.

“Everyone is fully prepared for an engagement, so just give the order whenever necessary.”

The fact that this operation made my escape route safer meant, conversely, that the other agents were taking on the danger that would otherwise have been mine.

Bureau Director Yun Tae-seong had apparently set all this up because he was worried about me, but the unexpected burden left a bitter taste in my mouth.

‘If I’d known it would be like this, I would’ve said I’d work alone.’

Something I could have wrapped up neatly by myself had now dragged the Bugak Team agents into danger as well.

Hiding my unease, we drove toward our destination in silence for a while.

Only the navigation system’s steady directions occasionally broke the silence between us.

[Turn right. Your destination is 500 meters ahead.]

Mercury Villa, located on the outskirts of Fiumicino Airport.

It was a half-abandoned, two-story detached villa without even a perimeter fence, and it was the only place nearby that could be rented in its entirety.

After all, if we stayed at a hotel in the middle of the city and a North Korean assassination squad came storming in, things could spiral out of control.

“We’ve arrived.”

“You’ve worked hard.”

Bugak No. 1 parked the car deep inside the villa’s garage as though hiding it.

After taking my luggage upstairs, I could see the surrounding terrain spread out beneath the hill below the balcony.

It was late afternoon, with the sun slowly sinking toward the horizon.

As befitted Italy, even the fading sunset draped itself beautifully over the landscape, giving the scenery a strangely distinctive charm.

“Hsss... haaah.”

I was leisurely drawing in a breath and taking in the Italian scenery at dusk when it happened.

“Secretary Pak. We just received intel from the Bugak Team agents.”

Bugak No. 1 hurried up the stairs behind me.

The tension in his voice made his state of mind obvious.

“The North Korean inspection team’s strike squad has left the EUR district, where the embassy is located, and they’re all heading this way.”

“How long will it take them to get here?”

“Given the distance, they can arrive within five minutes.”

It looked like the operation itself was going to proceed smoothly.

But as always, unexpected variables had a way of appearing without warning.

“Are those vehicles over there coming from the embassy?”

“Vehicles?”

“There’s a whole convoy heading this way.”

My gaze, which had been surveying the surrounding terrain, stopped in one place.

Far below the villa on the quiet hillside, I could see a line of vehicles approaching in the distance.

‘Looks like they’re getting here earlier than expected.’

More than ten vehicles were winding their way up the serpentine hill road toward the villa.

All we had to do was head down to the garage, get in the car, and leave by the road on the opposite side.

“That direction isn’t from the North Korean embassy....”

But even at a glance, something was off.

Every single one of the dozen or so vehicles was a gleaming, expensive sports car.

‘Sports cars?’

At that moment, a memory flashed through my mind.

“Let me confirm something....”

Bugak No. 1 immediately began calling one of the agents stationed near the embassy.

“Hey, what kind of vehicles left the North Korean embassy?”

-....

“Yeah, the vehicle type. Uh... four vans?”

In other words, that pack of sports cars wasn’t the North Korean assassination squad.

Bugak No. 1 finished his call and offered his opinion with an awkward expression.

“Secretary Pak. I don’t know how they found this place, but that convoy appears to belong to the Italian Mafia.”

I thought so too.

And I had a pretty good idea which organization they belonged to.

‘The Narancia Family.’

Franco, the hit-and-run bastard who had smashed up my beloved Vespa.

The memory of sending him and his bright red Porsche convertible plunging off the cliffs of Posillipo in Naples came rushing back.

‘How did they know? How did they know I killed Franco....’

No one had witnessed the accident at the time.

There was no way they could know I was responsible, so how the hell had the Narancia Family found this place?

“Ah.”

Come to think of it, the last person Franco had met that day was Secretary Pak Mun-ju.

Franco had gone to deliver the payment for the drug deal and then disappeared without a word, so from the Narancia Family’s perspective, it was only natural to suspect Secretary Pak Mun-ju.

‘They didn’t track me down. They came here because they suspect Secretary Pak Mun-ju.’

The funny thing was that, in the end, they had actually come to the right place.

Because I was the one who had killed Franco.

‘How the hell did things end up like this?’

Who would have imagined that my ill-fated connection with Franco, the hit-and-run bastard who had smashed into me and my adorable little Vespa before fleeing, would follow me all the way here?

As a dry laugh escaped me, the flustered Bugak No. 1 grabbed me firmly by the shoulder.

“Secretary Pak. I think you need to evacuate immediately.”

“Bugak No. 1, I have one order for you.”

When I abruptly announced that I was giving him an order, Bugak No. 1 unconsciously swallowed dryly.

“Yes. What is it?”

“I order you to leave this villa by yourself and get clear of the area.”

“...Pardon?”

“I intend to remain hidden on the second floor of this villa.”

Bugak No. 1’s eyes trembled.

His expression said he couldn’t understand my order at all.

“....”

After wrestling with himself for a long moment, he firmly shook his head.

“...My mission is to escort you, Secretary Pak. I cannot obey that order.”

“Hmm. In that case... well, don’t worry. Everything will work out just fine.”

“....”

Before long, a line of gleaming sports cars pulled up in front of the villa’s garden.

A horde of Italian Mafia members dressed in a wild assortment of colorful clothes spilled out of them.

“Find that fucking commie bastard Pak Mun-ju right now!”

“We’ll turn him into Swiss cheese!”

Just as they were about to storm the villa.

Screeeeech!

Craaaash!

“W-What the hell?!”

Four black vans came barreling in behind them, shoving aside the sports cars blocking the villa entrance.

Caught off guard by the sudden intrusion, the Mafia members instinctively raised their guns.

“Fuck! Who the hell are these damn bastards now?!”

The black-clad North Korean assassination squad agents who had just leaped out of the vans looked equally startled.

They hurriedly drew their submachine guns and aimed them back.

“Who the hell are you bastards?!”

“Fuck! Was this some kind of trap set by the North Koreans?!”

The North Korean assassination squad and the Narancia Family.

Neither group seemed to have the faintest idea that they had come here hunting the exact same target.

Each side had probably planned to turn Pak Mun-ju, whom they assumed was hiding alone inside the villa, into Swiss cheese and then leave. Instead, the appearance of completely unexpected intruders had left both sides at a loss.

“W-What in the world....”

Bugak No. 1, lying prone beside me, looked just as dumbfounded by the incomprehensible situation.

Keeping his body low, he stared blankly at the standoff unfolding below the balcony.

“You fucking commie bastards!”

“Pak Mun-ju, that bastard, must have hired those Mafia dogs as his guards!”

Both sides were wound tight, watching each other carefully, yet no one dared pull the trigger.

Because everyone knew that if even one person fired first, it would turn into a bloody battle of mutual annihilation.

‘Perfect.’

And I had no intention of giving them time to think.

With the tension stretched taut, I decided to kindly provide the spark.

Ting, clink!

“W-What are you doing?”

“Shh.”

Bugak No. 1 stared at me with eyes wide in horror.

“Hup.”

I casually rolled a grenade with its safety pin removed over the edge of the balcony.

Clatter, clatter.

The grenade rolled down the sloped roof, then tumbled into the middle of the garden where the Mafia members had gathered.

Booooom!

“Aaaaargh!”

“W-What the hell?!”

“Grenade!”

Both groups ducked in shock at the sudden explosion.

Ting, clink!

“Hup.”

Ignoring their panic, I pulled the pin on another grenade and hurled it with all my strength toward the North Korean assassination squad this time.

Boooooom!

“Aaaaargh!”

“Fuck! Those damn bastards fired first!”

“Shoot them dead, now!”

Now thoroughly enraged, they finally opened fire on each other.

Bang, ba-bang!

Ratatatatatat!

“Croak!”

“Mamma mia!”

Night had fully fallen over the hilly outskirts of Rome.

Gunfire thundered across the once-peaceful hill like a bolt from the blue.

The muzzle flashes pouring out like sheets of fire were almost blinding.

‘Just got lucky.’

Ratatatatat!

Bang! Bang! Ba-bang!

It seemed the very existence of Pak Mun-ju, supposedly hiding somewhere inside the villa, had long since vanished from their minds.

While they enthusiastically poured bullets into one another in the front yard.

Ting, clink!

“La-di-da.”

“....”

I leisurely pulled the pin on yet another grenade.

I could feel Bugak No. 1 staring at me in horror from beside me, but I decided to ignore him for now.

*****

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