Chapter 89: Those Who Meet Must Part, Those Who Part Will Surely Meet Again

TL: LittlePeach

Within the NIS, countless organizations and departments come into being and vanish again without a sound, as need dictates.

Even the Overseas Intelligence Bureau's Special Operations Group, to take one example, is close to a newborn department, less than five years old.

But there are always one or two departments that have quietly stacked up a long history.

The Diplomatic Mission Intelligence Bureau, which is run by a manager at bureau director level, is exactly that sort of place.

Their primary mission was to keep watch over diplomatic missions scattered across the world, North Korean embassies above all, and to pin down every last anomaly and change occurring inside and outside those missions.

As a result, the bulk of their work could only run on the field, and entirely so.

'The North Korean ambassador to the United Kingdom traveled to a local restaurant and cut into a steak.'

'A North Korean embassy vehicle in Berlin followed its usual route and carried out its schedule as planned.'

It all ran like that, a daily recitation of the same repetitive routine.

Situations urgent enough to demand a real-time flash report almost never arose, and back at headquarters, hearing nothing at all from them was effectively the good news.

But every once in a while.

'The North Korean minister to Kuwait held a meeting with a Middle Eastern oil development businessman.'

'The North Korean minister to the United Kingdom departed on vacation to Italy.'

'The accounting secretary at the North Korean embassy in Malaysia withdrew a large sum of cash from a local bank.'

When word of that sort came in, the kind that snagged the eye, things got complicated from there.

That was precisely why Yun Tae-seong, director of the Diplomatic Mission Intelligence Bureau, had come to brief First Deputy Director Kim Jin-taek in person.

"Minister Ri Jong-il has been located in Türkiye?"

"Correct, sir. Officially, Minister Ri Jong-il is on record as having left on vacation to Naples, Italy."

"That's right. I remember getting it in writing a few days ago."

The target of this operation, Ri Jong-il, a North Korean minister posted in the United Kingdom.

He was a man who had put himself at the very front of promoting the North Korean regime, traveling not just around Britain but all across Europe to sell the system and the cult of personality built around the Kim father and son.

"We found it suspicious that a man like that hadn't shown so much as his nose in or around the resort for three straight days, so we widened the scope to the neighboring countries and had his movements traced. Then, once the fourth day had passed, a local asset confirmed that he had been found in Türkiye under a cover identity, a Dominican Republic national by the name of Ryan Park."

"Where in Türkiye?"

"A Hilton hotel east of Lake Van, sir, right up against the Iranian border."

"Iran, is it...."

The NIS had long kept a close eye on the limited radius of his activity.

And yet this same Minister Ri Jong-il had dressed up his own movements to look like a vacation in Italy, only to surface out of nowhere in Türkiye at a moment no one had expected.

It was a clear anomaly, and Deputy Director Kim Jin-taek's expression turned careful as he listened.

"At the time he was located, he was carrying a suspicious briefcase."

"A briefcase?"

"Yes, sir. His wrist was cuffed to the handle, and by all accounts he never let that case leave his body no matter where he went. Not when he slept, and not even when he stepped into a bathroom."

"Hm."

"A field agent deployed in Türkiye tried to lift the case posing as a pickpocket, but unfortunately he failed. After that the target's movements went dark again, and he eventually resurfaced in Naples."

"Is the agent all right?"

"His identity was exposed to the local police, so we assessed that he could no longer operate in that region. We repatriated him immediately."

A black agent whose face has been exposed can no longer work the same region.

The field agent, back on home soil, would go through retraining, be issued a new identity, and be reassigned to a different team in a different region.

"As you're well aware, sir, a Reconnaissance General Bureau agent recently crossed into Russia to trade missile technology and got collared by the FSB."

"Hm."

Deputy Director Kim Jin-taek nodded.

The NIS agents who had been detained along with him there had come very close to real trouble themselves.

"Which brings our headquarters analysts to this conclusion. With the Russian deal dead, the North would have had no choice but to spin up its next operation in a hurry."

"You're telling me what's inside that case is the missile technology itself?"

"Yes, sir. And this time the counterparty won't be Russia. It'll be Iran."

"Hsss."

Deputy Director Kim Jin-taek let out an involuntary sigh.

The inference lined up too neatly, in too many ways.

Iran and North Korea were fellow sufferers and allies, both doggedly holding an anti-American line under international sanctions, and on top of that, the place Ri Jong-il had first surfaced was a border region inside Türkiye that pressed right up against Iran.

"Minister Ri Jong-il has a record of prior service as a section chief in Room 39 of the Workers' Party. Given that he handled the Chairman's slush fund personally, we are working on the assumption that during this Türkiye trip he made contact with Iranian officials and closed a missile technology deal using that slush fund."

Circumstantially, it came down to this.

Minister Ri Jong-il has secured missile technology from the Iranians and is keeping it in the briefcase.

Now that he has returned to Italy with that case in hand, he will make an unremarkable return to the embassy in Britain, as though simply finishing out his vacation.

A minister has the privilege of sailing straight through foreign customs checkpoints by way of the diplomatic pouch, which means he would be able to carry that technology safely all the way to Pyongyang.

"Minister Ri Jong-il's current location?"

"He's passing the time inside the resort. It appears he plans to move only once he's finished out the remainder of his vacation."

"It could be a deception. Keep in mind he may move under cover of dawn. Do you have measures in place right now?"

"Taebaek Team agents are on standby nearby. Every one of them is armed, sir, determined to seize the objective this time without fail."

At the sight of Bureau Director Yun Tae-seong steeling himself so firmly, Deputy Director Kim Jin-taek nodded in turn, carefully.

This was a mission that absolutely had to succeed, and he had no wish to leave a single inch of uncertainty in it.

Sometimes a hundred confident assurances count for less than one dependable joker in the deck.

Deputy Director Kim Jin-taek rummaged through a drawer and pulled out somebody's profile.

"I think I'll have to dispatch one more agent to this operation, separately."

"Dispatch, sir?"

Bureau Director Yun Tae-seong's brow furrowed.

It felt like a stone had come flying out of nowhere into a stream that had been running along perfectly smoothly.

"Deputy Director, we don't need additional personnel. My Taebaek Team agents are an elite unit with a proven track record...."

"I don't doubt for a second that your team will finish this operation flawlessly. One hundred percent."

"...."

"But I want a hundred and one percent. This one will fill in that extra one percent."

Bureau Director Yun Tae-seong took the file with a puzzled look.

Then all at once his expression contorted.

"...Sir, this is a Sparrow-code agent."

*****

Even after the face-to-face with Jin Weiliang was over, I spent a good while longer at Boss Ruixing's side.

Being next to the Chongqing Society's chief advisor meant everything I ate, everything I wore, and everything I slept on was luxury itself.

Ding.

"Hm?"

Then one day, out of nowhere, an alert went off.

I rustled through my pocket, and the satellite phone I'd forgotten I even had came tumbling out.

[Sparrow No. 7 is to proceed immediately to Naples, Italy]

A message from headquarters.

Below it, listed separately, was the contact number I was to use on the ground.

The moment I read it, my eyes went wide on their own.

"Italy?"

The destination came completely out of left field.

All the more so since I'd never knocked around anywhere but China and the edges of Southeast Asia.

I found myself smacking my lips.

'If I'd known, I would have made a trip over to Cambodia.'

The first thing that came to mind was the Cambodia dispatch squad, whose faces I'd never once laid eyes on before we parted ways.

Of course, between black agents, this is how it ought to be.

As they say, those who meet must part, those who part will surely meet again. Cling to a wistful goodbye and I'd lose my focus on the mission coming up.

"Time to go."

Right after reading the message, I picked up the internal line in my room.

Ring-ring-ring. Click.

The front desk attendant, who I'd been leaning on plenty these past few days, picked up right away.

-Yes, Mr. Nguyen. How may I help you?

"I need a word with Boss Ruixing. I was wondering whether he has any time free."

-One moment while I check.... Yes. If you could come down in five minutes, that should work.

"Thank you."

I was staying in a guest room on the penthouse floor of the Chongqing Society's Scholarship Foundation Building.

I threw my things together, and when the time came, I headed downstairs.

"So, Mr. Nguyen. Is something the matter?"

Boss Ruixing was working out of the office one floor down, as he always did.

Even though I'd shown up on nothing more than a word sent ahead, he greeted me with a pleased expression.

"Yes, Boss. Another job just came in for me. It seems I'll have to leave Taiwan."

"...I see."

"The Chongqing Society's situation has more or less settled, so nothing should happen even without me around."

"Hmm."

It clearly wasn't news he welcomed. Boss Ruixing's expression turned a touch strange.

He'd been hoping to keep me at his side, no doubt.

It was a reaction I was used to.

Everyone who had seen what I could do reacted exactly the same way.

"In any case, that blank check I gave you a while back. Have you settled on a figure to collect?"

"Ah, that. This much should do nicely."

I'd been quietly waiting for him to ask.

I pulled the blank check out of my pocket, where it had been crumpled into a ball, and slid it across to him.

[30,000 USD]

The figure I'd written in was thirty thousand US dollars.

Roughly thirty million won.

"I've eaten well and rested well at your side all this time, Boss, so that much should be plenty."

"...."

Boss Ruixing's face froze for a moment as he read the amount.

It was an absurdly modest sum for having guarded the Chongqing Society's next heir, so a little bewilderment was fair enough.

Of course, this was my own way of drawing a line.

If I'd written in something like a million dollars, he'd have countered with ten million and tried to cut a deal.

Instead I'd nailed my point in right there, that thirty thousand was plenty, and that he shouldn't think about tying me down with money.

"...Haha."

Boss Ruixing caught my meaning, and a flicker of deflation crossed his face.

With a heavy look, he picked up a pen.

"You are a plain-living man indeed, sir. Will this little truly be enough for you? Take a bit more."

"Huh."

And with that, Boss Ruixing casually drew in two more zeros.

Two zeros, and thirty million won turned into three billion just like that.

Even for me, used to big money by now, it was a number that sent a prickle up my spine.

"As the price of the lives you saved, mine and my daughter's, I honestly consider even this to be cheap."

"Boss Yang Mi-ryeong will be settling that account separately, though."

"Keep it a secret from Boss Yang and take generously from both sides."

"Hmm. Well, if you're offering, I'll accept with thanks."

There was no reason to refuse when he was handing over more of his own accord.

I gave an awkward laugh, and Boss Ruixing smiled gently in return.

"You can send the money to the account written below."

"And what do you intend to do about taxes?"

"It's an account under a business registered in a tax haven, so there'll be no problem."

The Hong Kong bank account Yang Mi-ryeong set up for me kept proving useful in exactly this way.

Before long, Boss Ruixing looked at me with eyes full of feeling.

"If you ever have cause to come to Taiwan again, contact me without hesitation. My daughter and I will never forget the life debt we owe you, sir. Someday I will repay this debt, with my own life if it comes to that."

It seemed three billion won wasn't the only thing I'd walked away with from the Chongqing Society boss's birthday banquet.

As a bonus, I'd picked up a life debt from a heavyweight who might well end up as the Chongqing Society's next boss.

I laughed sheepishly and shook my head.

"No. Don't go paying with your life. Stay alive and pay me back at full price instead."

"...Heh heh."

At that, Boss Ruixing, a man who rarely had occasion to laugh, broke into laughter with genuine delight for once.

His shoulders shook quietly for a long while, and then he gazed at me with a deep, steady gaze.

"Heh heh. Yes, my thinking was shallow indeed. Repaying with an old man's life would be worth nothing.... Very well. I shall be certain to survive and repay this debt for a long, long time."

"I'll look forward to it. Every time I come to Taiwan from now on, I'll be imposing on you, Boss."

"And I shall look forward to your next visit, sir."

We shook hands firmly, exchanged our farewells, and parted right there.

When I stepped out of the Scholarship Foundation Building, a taxi was waiting outside.

-To everyone in the dispatch squad. I'm returning to headquarters. I hope we get the chance to meet in the field again someday. Stay well.

And on the way to Taoyuan Airport, of course, I didn't forget to send a text to the agents of the Cambodia dispatch squad.

And so, quietly filing away the brief memories of all those connections, I set off with a considerably lighter expression.

Just how dangerous a mission was waiting for me this time, I had no idea whatsoever.

Still.

'They say Neapolitan pizza is unbelievably good....'

With a mission ahead of me, my mouth watered all on its own.

Because that was the kind of place Italy was.

*****

Italy, the peninsula of Europe.

The instant I stepped out of the airport, the warm, mild air peculiar to the Mediterranean greeted me.

Dazzling sunlight, a dry and cool breeze blowing through, the balmy weather of a resort town.

"Mm. This is incredible."

My current location was Rome Fiumicino Airport.

Take the high-speed rail from here and it was a straight shot to my final destination, Naples.

Before that, of course, I needed to make contact with the local agents assigned to this operation.

I dialed the number headquarters had passed along.

Ring-ring-ring.

Ring-ring-ring. Dead.

"Huh?"

No sooner had I placed the call than the ringtone cut off dead.

A déjà vu I couldn't quite place made me narrow my eyes, but only for a second.

Ding.

-Santa Lucia Beach, Café Delmare, second-floor outdoor terrace.

Before I could even start wondering, a text dropped onto my phone.

A contact message straight out of a spy movie. My brow furrowed on its own.

"Hold on...."

Because barely a month ago, I'd been through something almost identical the instant I landed in Cambodia.

I mulled it over for a moment, then shook the thought off, just in case.

"Nah, no way."

Jumping to conclusions never does any good.

And so I arrived at Café Delmare.

A place set in a spectacular spot, wide open onto the majestic bulk of Mount Vesuvius and the blue Mediterranean.

The pleasantly warm air around me made it feel like I could sit there for hours on end.

The only thing was, the local agent still hadn't arrived, and honestly, that sat a little wrong with me.

"...."

It felt like it would accomplish nothing at all, but on the off chance, I sent off a text.

-I've arrived. I'll only be ordering a drink for myself.

The coffee I ordered was a caffè latte.

I got it hot, figuring I'd take my time.

But so much for that plan. This big trap of mine, which has never had any trouble with hot stuff, drained the cup in a few sips flat.

Time passed, and before long the sun had climbed right over the crown of my head.

-May I ask when you'll be arriving?

On the off chance, I put in a second text.

Sure enough, no reply.

All the while, just taking in the scenery around me was enough to put me at peace.

"Ha."

Then a laugh of pure disbelief slipped out.

What was the point of waiting any longer?

"More turf-guarding here too?"

Somehow, the uneasy hunches are never the ones that turn out wrong.

*****

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