NOVEL NEXT Chapter 562
Zigmund gazed out of Vanya’s window while smoking a cigarette.
The once clear and fragrant vapor had long been replaced by a stale odor.
The sauna was filled with a hazy gas that was hard to distinguish between cigarette smoke and steam, and the irritable combination of loneliness and drowsiness lingered deep in his mind.
It was a foul stench that Helen despised, yet he felt that it would be impossible to endure without lighting up due to his long-standing patience that had worn thin.
…Huff.
Just after expelling a puff of smoke mixed with a sigh, Zigmund muttered as if annoyed.
“What are we doing here?”
Concentration, rock-solid patience, and honest confidence are virtues of an information officer.
Those were the pieces of advice an instructor once imparted to his students.
Thanks to the advice etched deep into his bones, Zigmund had survived numerous crises since his days as a field agent. From when agents were discovered, to when enemies came knocking at the front door, to when the barrel of a gun he thought belonged to a friend was shoved against his head.
Zigmund vowed never to forget his instructor’s advice as he escaped death countless times.
But right now, that very patience was being put to the test.
The Royal Intelligence Department, which valued indecisiveness and duplicity as virtues, had never failed to disappoint expectations.
They had requested a rendezvous but had not shown up even after a full 30 minutes.
At first, Zigmund had speculated that they might be discreetly watching him, keen on following him, but as the minutes dragged on, the absence of the contact merely proved the department’s lack of decisiveness.
“Ha…”
They had the guts to kidnap a mother and daughter in enemy territory, yet lacked the courage to meet me in a hotel sauna in the Empire?
Zigmund snorted and flicked the ash from his cigarette a few times.
His inner self yearned to make a call and throw a fit, questioning, ‘What the hell is going on?’ but he resolved to squeeze out just a bit more patience and wait once more.
After clearing his mind with some cold water, he carefully checked to see if anyone was observing him while sneaking a look at Room 3.
And a short while later—
Ding!
He received a contact.
Episode 20 – Who was threatening with a knife?
When the internal phone in Room 3 rang loudly, Zigmund had just stepped out into the common pool to cool off.
“This sauna is really hot. There was a time I could endure it for hours. I must be getting old now.”
“The passage of time can’t be defeated, can it, Evgeny?”
Zigmund, who had submerged his lower body into the ice-cold water, asked the man as if seeking agreement. The white man named Evgeny nodded repeatedly, affirming that he was indeed correct.
As his name suggests, Evgeny was a citizen of the Kien Empire.
In Kien culture, it was customary to refer to someone by their name along with a title ending in -vich or -nova, but he had merely introduced himself by his name.
This wasn’t surprising—Zigmund knew that Kien people tended to drop formalities when they were in casual settings.
Naturally, there was no need for formalities in a spa where everyone was strolling around in nothing but swimsuits.
“Mm—”
The middle-aged Kien man, Evgeny, exclaimed as he savored a glass full of vodka.
“This alcohol is excellent! Nothing beats a drink after sweating it out.”
“Do they serve alcohol here? I heard it was prohibited.”
“In Ashtistan, alcohol is only sold in hotels. The law doesn’t apply to foreigners. You can go to the downstairs bar and show your passport to buy some.”
“Oh. I wasn’t aware of that. But it seems it’s not just for foreigners, is it?”
Zigmund glanced sideways, and Evgeny’s gaze shifted to that direction.
There were quite a number of Ashtistanis around the common pool at Mandala Spa. They appeared to be young locals dripping with charm.
They were conversing in Kien with relatively good pronunciation, but Zigmund, accustomed to the native accent, quickly caught on that they spoke with an ‘Ashtistani Kien accent’ they couldn’t hide.
No doubt about it, the natives wouldn’t be suspicious either.
“Hehe.”
Evgeny chuckled awkwardly, rubbing his reddish neck, which had flushed from the heat of the sauna.
“Just because they are Ashtistanis doesn’t mean they keep away from alcohol, right?”
“That’s a fair point.”
“Just go take a look at the underground casino. You wouldn’t believe how many people are down there.”
Zigmund chuckled quietly, amused by the Kien man’s humor.
He knew well the reasons young locals were indulging in drinking, pretending to be Kien people while speaking silly foreign languages.
The foreign-owned hotel was a lawless area exempt from the Republic’s prohibition laws, and once the bartender pocketed the money, nationality ceased to matter.
This meant they were bribing the bartender to secretly buy alcohol and having their own little party.
Of course, this was indeed illegal.
If officials from the Law Enforcement Corps were to discover this, the youths would likely face a night behind bars.
They would be packed tightly with over thirty others in an unsanitary, cramped cell, the pretty girls getting groped by officers, and the men walking around with a fierce eye would likely find their heads smashed in by clubs.
It was all too predictable. Such outcomes were typical for the citizens caught by Ashtistan’s Law Enforcement Corps.
But those young people would never experience such a nasty night.
To be precise, the patrol officers wouldn’t detain them whether they were smoking or using drugs.
After all, how could a mere patrol officer treat individuals capable of trading a bottle of vodka for the equivalent of six months of wages for a worker in the Republic?
Even if they were caught, they would be out of jail in a matter of minutes, and if they slipped the patrol officers a third of the cost of the drink, they would ensure the youths made it home safely.
Zigmund himself had once escaped a night behind bars in Shizuya after only paying a bribe of less than 700 shillings when caught infiltrating a military facility.
“What a glorious time.”
Zigmund shook his head, smiling, as he observed the youthful revelers.
Having operated as a field agent in both the Kingdom and the Republic of Ashtistan, he had his reasons for acting like someone who had just arrived.
Officially, Zigmund hadn’t come to Ashtistan under the guise of ‘Dryman’ before. He had to play the part of a foreigner as if he were on his very first outing.
While the Royal Intelligence Department had likely already caught on to his presence, he still had to deceive not only the Kingdom of Abas but also the security agencies of the Republic of Ashtistan.
If the people of Shizuya learned about his entry, he would attract even more pursuers.
It would be easy for the Imperial Guard HQ to help him slip out of Ashtistan, but if he did, his family would fall into the hands of the Royal Intelligence Department and would likely remain lost to him forever.
Zigmund’s ridiculous charade was entirely for that reason.
“It’s a good thing my wife loves vodka.”
As he spent time waiting for the contact from the Royal Intelligence Department, it was fortunate that Zigmund wasn’t the type to hesitate when approached by a stranger.
Moreover, wasting precious time without purpose was not in his nature either.
During the last thirty minutes, he had thoroughly checked for any dangers present in the Mandala Spa. He made sure there were no individuals watching him from a spot where he could see the designated Room 3 and the rest of the spa, nor did he miss anyone frequently coming and going for contact.
The middle-aged man named Evgeny was the person Zigmund had interacted with, and he was the least suspicious person in Mandala Spa.
“You’re saying your wife likes vodka?”
“Yes. By the way, is drinking a woman’s pastime in the Empire considered disreputable?”
“Not at all! While no one would appreciate someone drowning in alcohol, vodka is enjoyed by all. My spouse likes it too.”
“Does she like beer as well?”
“That’s more of a drink than something you would call alcohol.”
Holding a bottle against his side while enjoying the sauna alone, Evgeny turned out to be a mathematician with a good reputation at a prestigious university.
Coincidentally, it was the same university where he had graduated and had repeatedly garnered Zigmund’s attention while working at the Petrogard branch.
“What do you do, Dryman?”
“I work in a corporation. To put it nicely, I’m a salaryman; to be self-deprecating, a wage slave. My company mainly deals with consulting.”
“Oh. What an interesting profession! I’ve been in research all my life, so I don’t know much about businesses. It’s always fascinating to hear about it.”
“There’s nothing particularly interesting about working for a salary. What brought you to Shizuya, Evgeny?”
He explained that there was an event for various scholars and researchers taking place in Ashtistan, and he was going to attend.
Zigmund reaffirmed that Evgeny was a safe person—meaning he had no connections to any intelligence agencies—and also noted that he had become a regular at Mandala Spa recently.
If Evgeny was well-versed in the spa’s circumstances, it wouldn’t take long for him to deduce why the Royal Intelligence Department had chosen this place for the rendezvous.
Because of its frequent visits by foreigners, it wouldn’t raise suspicion if an information officer came here, or that there was something unique that didn’t exist in other spas.
The small bits of information he casually dropped could well turn into significant avenues of understanding.
He needed to build rapport.
Zigmund began gathering tidbits about the middle-aged Kien man’s profession, hometown, family relations, interests, and tastes through their brief conversation.
As he drank vodka in the sauna, it turned out he was indeed an enthusiast and a family man with a wife and son.
He pondered whether he could build connections over these shared topics, but surprisingly, Evgeny didn’t seem to be very much in love with his wife.
Whenever Zigmund broached the subjects of family or spouse, Evgeny appeared strangely reserved, giving off signals that he would rather not discuss those matters.
So he shifted the subject.
This time to alcohol.
As soon as the topic of drinks was brought up, his attitude noticeably changed.
Like someone who could not afford to smoke and just found a half-empty pack of cigarettes hidden in their coat, Evgeny passionately began to sing praises for alcohol, scrunching up his bright red nose.
Zigmund managed to identify a few more ‘seemingly harmless’ individuals along with the drunken mathematician. There was also an elderly couple, enjoying local bread while getting their backs massaged with a stick made out of woven grass.
They appeared to be well into their seventies and introduced themselves as scholars and researchers, much like Evgeny.
The husband, likely around the same age as Zigmund’s father if he were still alive, had worked as an astrophysicist, while the wife was working as an astronomy lecturer.
Zigmund could not help but ask a question in reaction to the intriguing background of the ‘magician-scientist couple.’
“Is it true your husband is a scientist, and you’re a magician? I’m curious how the two of you met.”
“This guy was late, and while he was trying to jump over the academy’s fence with a broom, he fell right above my head. I was the student council president. That was our first encounter.”
“Well, he claims he didn’t really arrive late.”
“Oh, please! The school gate was locked, and he hopped over. How could he say otherwise?”
“I locked it two minutes earlier. It’s obvious someone was in sight.”
“Then why didn’t you come in earlier? Or you should have gone into your dormitory.”
The elderly couple, who stopped by the sauna to refresh themselves, quickly recognized Evgeny as a fellow native. Similarly, Evgeny recognized the faces of the elderly couple.
They seemed to be quite famous intellectuals. Zigmund thought that people like him might find them interesting.
They shared that they would also be attending the conference in Ashtistan—none other than the same event Evgeny mentioned.
An astrologist, an astrophysicist, and a mathematician.
Zigmund felt certain that the event they were attending had some relation to aerospace or space. Officially, the three were to attend an event for scientific-magical exchanges, but even on a cursory glance, the domains they were working on seemed tethered to aerodynamics.
Could the Law Enforcement Corps be gathering researchers from around the world to replace the lost Ohav (the eagle) to Abas?
Or had it been an endeavor that started long before recent events to develop new weapon systems unrelated to recent happenings?
Whatever the reason, the fact that Evgeny’s focus had shifted to the newly arrived elderly couple was promising.
Even if he decided to cautiously leave the conversation, he would likely forget Zigmund existed, getting wrapped up in conversation with the elderly couple.
“….”
Once out of earshot of the gathering, Zigmund quickly compiled all the information he’d gleaned from his interaction with Evgeny and the elderly couple.
Firstly, Mandala Spa was accessible even to non-guests. Although costs varied, it wasn’t necessary to stay at the hotel like Zigmund to visit.
Evgeny mentioned that he initially stayed at another hotel before recently moving here.
This meant there was a high possibility of outsiders entering without raising suspicions.
Secondly, the primary clientele of Mandala Spa consisted of foreigners. The target audience included foreigners residing in the Republic of Ashtistan.
Officially, all facilities within the hotel, including spas, bars, and casinos, were exclusively for foreigners. In reality, however, locals also frequented this place.
This phenomenon occurred because the managers, who should verify passports to control access for locals, had become corrupt. Although it was labeled an Empire-owned hotel, most of the staff were locals hired here.
It wouldn’t be far-fetched to think that it was one of the hotel staff who leaked information about the room Zigmund was staying in.
In other words, it meant an information officer could freely come and go if they wanted.
And thirdly.
“Evgeny, since you visit often, may I ask if there’s something unique here that other spas don’t offer?”
“There are indeed many. Other hotel spas prohibit alcohol, but here it’s allowed.”
“Hm… What else might be different?”
“Speaking of special points, oh! I remembered there’s a bulletin board right in front.”
“A bulletin board?”
“You know, like the ones they used to have in cafes, right? Where young friends would post messages about meeting up, returning borrowed books, and so forth. It’s a kind of letter from the time when there were no phones, and rudimentary crystal communicators were expensive and hard to come by. Occasionally, there would be love letters pinned there too. If someone caught your fancy, you could just reach out.”
“…….”
“You met someone by using that? It sounds like you have experience.”
“Um… Professor, let’s just say that isn’t my story. I’ve never done anything like that; please don’t mention it to my wife.”
Zigmund donned an appropriate robe and moved toward the small space mentioned by Evgeny and the elderly couple.
It was a small corner of the spa. There, he discovered a board that wasn’t too large, neither too small.
Evidently, it had been filled with plenty of small notes from the guests. Zigmund quickly focused on a rather nondescript note.
《8-11, Membaši Square, Shizuya, Shizuya province. 35° 42′ 7″ N / 51° 26′ 42″ E. 0043.》
Pushed down by a green thumbtack, the note indicated a specific locale within Shizuya. A subway station named after the great revolutionary leader. It directed the reader to come there by midnight 43 minutes past.
Having spent over ten years in Ashtistan, Zigmund recognized it as a note left behind by the Royal Intelligence Department. He also noted the time, which coincided with the last subway passing through the station.
“…Is it a plan, or a change?”
Zigmund pondered. He wondered why the Royal Intelligence Department, which summoned him as a spy, had opted to change the location.
Perhaps they had never intended for this place to be their rendezvous to begin with, luring him here under false pretenses while checking whether the Imperial Guard HQ had detained him or not.
Or perhaps the original plan had simply changed.
If the Royal Intelligence Department had indeed chosen the spa as the initial rendezvous point, only now to change it, there could be but one reason.
Someone was following him.
Someone he hadn’t yet noticed.
“…….”
Zigmund instinctively thought that the ‘male and female customers’ the front desk employees spoke of could be the pursuers.
If the Royal Intelligence Department had been monitoring Mandala Spa up to the time of the rendezvous, they would surely know there were suspicious customers who made a sudden reservation.
If those customers had triggered the Royal Intelligence Department’s suspicions…
Two suspicious individuals showing up at a meeting point arranged with a double agent who betrayed them. As the director of their intelligence, Zigmund knew that ‘pairs’ or ‘triplets’ form the minimum team units for surveillance efforts.
…This is bad news.
Upon returning to Room 3, Zigmund first contacted the desk clerk.
He needed to confirm who the customers were that had reserved hastily just before and where they might be if they had already arrived.
“I’m here. Dryman.”
-‘Oh, sir! Just the person I was about to contact.’
Zigmund’s intuition kicked in as he heard the voice from the receiver.
They were about to ‘contact’ him again? Did they try to reach out while he was away?
Damn it.
“Ah, yes. Thank you.”
Zigmund wiped the sweat from his face and quickly threw a question at the clerk.
“I was just inquiring if my acquaintance had arrived. Haha. I stepped out for a minute; they must have come during that time, right?”
Please let it not be true.
Unless they had just arrived at the time of this call, he wouldn’t be able to slip away without crossing paths if they had already entered the changing room.
-‘Yes, they just arrived a moment ago.’
“Great! How long ago was that?”
-‘Well… I think it was sometime within 1 to 2 minutes ago…’
Zigmund hastily ended the conversation and started to move to the spa’s exterior.
If it was only a few minutes, he could still manage to quietly slip out without running into anyone.
Ignoring the drunken Evgeny, the strangely paired elderly couple, and young revelers lost in their drinking, Zigmund hurried toward the exit, mentally mapping his escape route as he timed himself.
Just as he grasped the doorknob—
-Slam!
Someone on the opposite side swung the door wide open, ready to break into the spa.
*
There’s a saying common in the intelligence community.
The first meeting is coincidence, the second is an accident, and the third is surveillance.
The mutual understanding that one might always be observed and monitored is a truth shared by many intelligence officers across nationalities and eras, from the Cold War to the modern day.
Zigmund was one of those who understood that.
While he hadn’t experienced the iron curtain dividing Europe during the Cold War, he had spent decades as a staff member of the Royal Intelligence Department.
He had grown accustomed to sensing the gaze of a watcher trailing him, and, in turn, feeling his colleagues watch over the watchers from high buildings.
After living such a life for years, one naturally reaches an understanding.
There is no such thing as coincidence in this world.
“What the hell is going on here?”
The moment he locked eyes with the woman who had just entered the spa, Zigmund’s patience hit rock bottom, plunging straight down to the basement.
He glared at the agent of the Imperial Guard HQ standing before him, ready to kill her with his gaze.
“What are you doing here? Don’t you know you’re not supposed to be here?”
“Came for a sauna, of course.”
The Imperial Guard HQ employee remained unfazed by Zigmund’s harsh glare. The atmosphere suggested someone might lose their life, yet she continued speaking nonchalantly.
“It’s not unusual for a Kien person to show up in Vanya. Foreigners come here too.”
“Are we discussing how I should conduct myself here? I’m emphasizing that I shouldn’t be interacting with people like you!”
“Relax. I merely came here to enjoy the sauna like you did.”
“Of all places, why here at Mandala?”
“It’s an Empire hotel. No matter how official a government officer might be in their travels, they won’t want to divert taxes elsewhere.”
“……”
“When and where I wish to be is determined by me, not by you. And…”
The Imperial Guard HQ officer took a step closer to Zigmund.
“Since we’ve now run into each other, we ought to just pass by as if we were both guests. Wouldn’t it look strange to engage in a conversation and kill time like we know each other?”
The head of Department 1 of the Imperial Guard HQ, Ekaterina, concluded her remarks with a glance at Zigmund.
He likewise glared back at her.
In that moment, after taking a deep breath, Zigmund lowered his voice.
“You intended to walk in, and I was going to leave. We stumbled into this uncomfortable encounter, so let’s just apologize for the mistake. Nobody else will think anything of it.”
“Sounds good.”
Both conveyed apologies to each other like two customers engaged in an embarrassing farce just because they stood across the door. They bowed slightly and forced a sheepish smile.
To the unknowing observer, it might have appeared as if they were even brushing shoulders.
“My apologies, ma’am. I was in a hurry to exit and made a mistake.”
“Not at all, sir. It’s I who should apologize. It seems your clothes may have gotten dirty in the process; would you need them cleaned?”
The mention of a cleaning was one of the safety signals set by the Imperial Guard HQ. It signified, ‘There’s been an issue, so help is needed.’
Zigmund immediately shook his head.
“It’s fine. There’s nothing dirty about it.”
No help was needed. While he certainly said that, a more precise interpretation was, ‘The Imperial Guard HQ has no business assisting me, so get out of my sight,’ but Ekaterina merely smiled and offered her non-apology.
“Once you finish in the spa, I’d be delighted to treat you to a cup of tea. I feel so bad about this.”
“No need.”
“Don’t be a bore.”
“……”
While Ekaterina persisted with her tea invitation, it was clear she was implying something else.
This invitation was a request for contact.
Her insistence against refusal indicated that if he rejected her invitation, she wouldn’t help him escape from his predicament. Of course, this could also simply be a case of stress-induced overinterpretation, and the Guard HQ could just be looking to discuss Zigmund’s asylum once more.
Yet words can be interpreted in various ways, can’t they?
Both uttering and interpreting professional human behaviors is an inherent aspect of being human. And Zigmund, as a man who had lived dealing with people all his life, understood that well.
“…If that’s the case then. Sure, why not. Let’s do that.”
Right after he agreed, Ekaterina slipped past him to enter the spa.
In her wake, Zigmund keenly noticed that a group of men had also walked into the spa after her. However, he could not ascertain who among them was part of the Imperial Guard HQ’s two-man surveillance.
The young men flocking in resembled each other and were spaced out in groups of two or three. Some were animatedly chatting amongst themselves, while others walked briskly without sharing a word.
If among them was a member of the Imperial Guard with the blood of desert nomads, Zigmund wouldn’t easily identify them.
Moreover, it would be odd for him, who was attempting to leave just a moment ago, to suddenly start scrutinizing men.
“…I’m in deep trouble.”
Muttering under his breath, Zigmund hurriedly exited the spa and took a moment to drink water.
Dammit, he still had a full 50 minutes left before he had to meet.
*
– Splash, splash.
Every step he took caused splashes that echoed against the floor. A woman with a white neck and long black hair stepped into the room.
The sauna, exuding warmth, created a pleasant atmosphere, and the oddly pleasant steam tickled her skin.
Ekaterina entered the reserved room and took her seat. Closing her eyes, she appeared to meditate while gathering her thoughts.
When the door opened with a creak, she opened her eyes to see an individual, looking like a local from the Mauritania continent, standing before her. He entered smoothly while glancing around the room.
“Domoboy just left. He should be back soon.”
The foreign language expert of the Imperial Guard HQ, Kiril, was briefed on Zigmund’s status by Ekaterina.
The two employees of the Imperial Guard HQ appeared no different than typical guests. Their casual swimwear and simple snacks, along with large towels covering their lower bodies, made them blend well.
Of course, they weren’t here to vacation; they were on duty.
“Thanks for stalling earlier. I was terrified I’d run into Domoboy.”
“Did I stall? He did it. He naturally came without being caught.”
“Well, I’ve seen quite a few locals come in. You notice those men who just entered? They were tracking right behind them.”
Kiril pointed at a group of men, who were just among the locals who had just stepped in.
An average citizen of the Empire would stand out among the brown-skinned individuals, whereas Kiril himself was of mixed heritage from Ashtistan and Kien.
This fact significantly influenced his selection for this assignment. The officials knew that if his skin tone differed, it would attract attention; hence management recommended hiring someone local like Kiril, who agilely adapted to the local language.
Ekaterina briefly glanced at the group Kiril pointed to before letting out a casual remark.
“They seem to have been eyeing the back of my head since earlier.”
“More like just below the back of your head.”
“Do you have a hobby of staring at the back of people?”
“No.”
Kiril shook his head vigorously in denial.
“That only just popped up.”
“What a ridiculous guy…”
Ekaterina chuckled at her colleague’s casual banter while she briefly recognized that rumors amongst her peers might have suggested Kiril’s apparent disinterest in women or speculated he favored men instead.
While Kiril’s feebleness waned under the prevailing notion that he didn’t like women, Ekaterina maintained her calm demeanor and continued with her questions.
“How long has it been since Domoboy entered the sauna? About thirty to forty minutes now?”
Ekaterina questioned.
Did any suspicious individuals enter or leave during that timeframe?
“He did have a handler.”
Kiril replied, adding the detail that “a foreigner had gone in and left after 30 minutes,” implying that “Giorgi’s side was tracking this too.”
“A cadre from department 6 spread some folks around; some are watching the hotel’s vicinity.”
“If anything comes up, let them know. Tell the field agents not to skimp on the reward—for high-quality information, I want to encourage generous compensation.”
“Yes, of course, ma’am.”
“By the way, how’s Shandor? Did the communication service yield anything?”
Kiril nodded affirmatively.
“We’ve gained the attention of the national communications company leader. If Domoboy uses a mobile phone, we’ll manage to replicate or eavesdrop to our capacity. Likewise, it’ll apply to other phones.”
“That was surprisingly cooperative. I expected a few more hesitations from him.”
“We did some groundwork on Shandor beforehand. Figured out what he wanted, and it was a deal.”
“Let’s just focus on Domoboy for now. Just like we are now.”
Ekaterina and Kiril had come to Mandala Spa to monitor Zigmund closely.
While it wouldn’t pose a problem for the support agents from department 6 to infiltrate Mandala Spa, if Zigmund were to discover their identities, it would pose significant limitations to their operations.
The investigator of department 1 watched the entrance with narrowed eyes.
“What does Domoboy have up his sleeve, coming to a spa alone?”
According to documentation, Zigmund had initially enjoyed saunas.
As a double agent, he used Kien-style saunas as a major hub for meetings with the management of the Imperial Guard HQ, similar to Mandala Spa where international guests also congregated.
Kiril glanced at Ekaterina’s profile as he spoke.
“Couldn’t he be meeting someone? Seeing that he worked in Shizuya, he might be connected with a lot of agents. Perhaps he is also seeking gifts that would delight the higher-ups.”
“Whatever that might be, we don’t know yet.”
“Or perhaps he could just be trying to unwind. Like the agents in department 2 do sometimes, Domoboy may want to relieve stress in the sauna.”
“That strikes me as somewhat suspicious….”
Ekaterina voiced her doubts.
His dual identity had been exposed, his family gone. Yet suddenly, he claimed to need to relax in a sauna? That seemed incredibly odd.
Yet Kiril argued that precisely because of that, it was likely he would seek out such relief.
“Shouldn’t be deemed strange, right? Come on, would you be without stress? Given his situation, knowing he’s been exposed as a spy with a wife who’s gone missing, he might just want to take a short breather, right?”
“…Hmm.”
His point wasn’t unfounded. Kiril’s argument carried some weight.
Ekaterina considered the report she would need to draft regarding Zigmund’s psychological state when she turned to Kiril with a question.
“If the counterintelligence has examined the movement of Abas, did they report nothing suspicious from their consulate in Mauritania?”
“Yeah. It’s clean. No signals whatsoever have come through.”
“Nothing worthy of suspicion has appeared…”
“Exactly, it’s so very clean that raises suspicion.”
He was a double agent. A high-ranking intelligence officer tasked with providing a shield had turned traitorous.
In a normal situation, by now, the embassy would be flooded with frantic communications seeking to locate Zigmund, trace back contacts recently made, or confirm anybody who had interacted or spoken with him.
Yet the Royal Intelligence Department remained silent.
While folded his arms, Ekaterina muttered to herself.
“…Other contacts, aside from William, have likewise gone silent.”
Rightfully designated by the Imperial Guard HQ was not William; rather, Zigmund had been working for the Imperial Guard HQ long before he turned over on Abas.
The Guard HQ subsequently assigned Zigmund numerous contacts, but most of those had since vanished without a trace.
Since their employment ties had been severed, there was no reason to re-establish contact. They were merely runners sent to recover and transfer the sensitive materials Zigmund had left behind.
Officially and unofficially, they were all foreigners unconnected to the Empire. They had to be just that.
But once William had been caught, management hastily reactivated the long-dormant connections to ascertain the status of the contacts but had refrained from receiving anticipated responses.
The higher-ups speculated that contacts had likely been apprehended or executed.
To speak of possible outcomes was merely a formality.
At this point, it had become almost an unspoken fact, at least in Ekaterina’s mind.
“But not a single order was sent down? The Royal Intelligence Department, you say? There’s something definitely amiss.”
“I think so too, Ekaterina. That’s currently the impression at headquarters as well.”
Possibilities were being contemplated.
Ekaterina began to suggest that the suspicious actions Zigmund exhibited, the deafening silence from the Royal Intelligence Department, and the disappearance of his contacts might just have connections—perhaps indicating Zigmund had backslid in his loyalty for some reason.
Kiril, while not outright rejecting the possibilities, insisted that they shouldn’t begin doubting Zigmund without solid evidence.
To be precise.
“It’s fine to be cautious, but Ekaterina—if Zigmund were to learn that we suspect him, who knows what kind of trouble that might stir?”
“True.”
“Let’s proceed with caution. Especially in his presence, don’t show our cards.”
The two decided to stick around Mandala Spa, keeping close tabs on Zigmund.
After all, that was the intention from the start.
Kiril offered a quick note of intention, saying something along the lines of, “I think Domoboy’s about to return, so I’ll step out,” before leaving the room. Meanwhile, updates regarding Zigmund’s activities would be sent via the external contacts set up by the support agents.
Although they could easily leave the room, Ekaterina chose to linger a bit longer, deliberately waiting just long enough to ensure no guests wandering about would catch wind that she and Kiril were in the same space.
“Sigh.”
Stepping outside the sauna, the cool air freshened her warmed skin. Just before stepping out, she had been pummeled by a birch branches, and to her delight, her skin felt a tad smoother; her face bloomed like a ripe apple.
She headed toward the communal pool to recover from the heat, while Kiril busily fumbled with the food from the spa, gazing around.
“Who said anyone could drink while on duty?”
After exiting the water and shaking off, Ekaterina rebuked her colleague humorously.
Kiril, however, seemed distracted, staring straight ahead, unconcerned about her comments while lazily raising a beer to his lips.
“It’s lukewarm. It was an ice cube when I bought it. Damn, what beer is this?”
“Drink water.”
“Buy your own. Just drink the pool water.”
As she jiggled an iced water bottle, Ekaterina thought to herself that it wasn’t so bad.
Certainly, it would have been better if she could have gazed upon mountains or oceans instead of being encamped in this desert where even oases were scarce.
– Creak.
Just as she was preparing to head back to the sauna after cooling off in the pool, someone opened the door, stepping back into the spa.
With a glance at the entrance, Kiril muttered under his breath, “Domoboy.”
Ekaterina verified with her watch that it hadn’t taken so long. If the two agents monitoring outside had been diligent in observing what Zigmund had been doing out there, it should make for the perfect situation.
“Let’s borrow some light.”
Just as Kiril was about to head towards the other side, Zigmund approached him.
He effortlessly spoke fluent Ashtistani as he accosted him.
Kiril tried to downplay it, ignoring Zigmund’s focused engagement. He simply pulled out a lighter and handed it over, wordlessly.
As Zigmund received it and struck a flame to his cigarette, he exhaled smoke and breath into the air.
“Are you alone?”
Zigmund asked while inhaling the fog accumulating above.
In that brief moment, Kiril sensed that Zigmund might suspect him. So instead of a positive answer, he denied it.
“I came with friends, a few acquaintances.”
The investigator casually glanced at the cohort he had secretly merged with before. The men were scattered about the spa now.
The seasoned intelligence officer quickly scanned their features and returned the lighter to Zigmund.
He needed to move away smoothly from the space. He had just attempted to exit moments ago, so the investigator wouldn’t hesitate to leave the scene right away.
In the spot Zigmund vacated, an unfinished beer, a nearly empty ashtray, and crumbs of food were left behind. It was a chair that marked someone’s absence, but the intelligence officer paid no mind to it.
Nevertheless, Zigmund seized the empty chair that Kiril had just vacated.
“I stepped out for some fresh air, and now I’m feeling rather embarrassed my neck is all sunburned.”
Ekaterina quietly broke the silence.
“You think this is protective detail?”
The fact that someone was actually shadows watching them wouldn’t have escaped Zigmund’s notice. Though even if he wasn’t aware, it lay in the realm of common sense.
Ekaterina chose to admit the truth instead of denying it. Either Zigmund would deduce she was confirming her suspicions or some anonymous observers might get proven wrong.
Kiril and the others wouldn’t be as easily surveilled as agents well hidden from sight.
Should they get caught? It wouldn’t be the Guards from the 6th department keeping their eyes on him, but rather Kiril, serving once again as a mere foreigner.
“What?” Zigmund complained, exhaling circles of smoke.
“Chasing after either cops or thugs, it’s too much of a hassle, right?”
Zigmund poured out complaints that were half sarcastic, half genuine.
To which Ekaterina responded without missing a beat.
“They’re former police officers from the royal regime. Plenty of military and intelligence agent backgrounds too.”
“No doubt they are the lazy kinds who touch the carrot next to the circuit!”
Zigmund’s remark implied those had once been active in a shady business, once giving way to indignation.
“They’ve been thrown into targets, meaning they won’t give up on that gig so easily.”
The flickering ash of the cigarette caught Zigmund’s eye.
“Just how ready do they feel against intelligence?”
The investigator arched an eyebrow, looking through Ekaterina’s eyes.
“I reckon you need them as shields?”
Kiril shrugged, his bearing nonchalant.
“That isn’t what I’d expect from you.”
Zigmund remained silent.
Both sides had unspoken understandings lurking between them.
The silence tightly wrapped around them became a shared bond of conclusion.
“If the need arises, summon me.”
“Sure, as per your convenience.”
With a cigarette planted on the empty tray, Zigmund boldly sprung up, marking an end to their conversation.
Sitting there, idly chatting with a young woman of distant relation was never his style, and at present, could even attract unwarranted attention.
Ekaterina didn’t even glance at Zigmund as he was about to step into Room 3. Her attention shifted to Kiril, who was keeping check on Zigmund.
Kiril turned, rubbing his right shoulder and twisting his neck and arms in a large stretch—casting a precise two-round turn.
This offered a confirmation, affirming that Zigmund hadn’t been engaging with anyone outside.
– Splash.
Emerging from the pool, Ekaterina moved back toward the room where Zigmund had just entered.
Meanwhile, the door of the hotel swung open forcefully as a woman along with a man burst onto the scene, raising their voices and drawing everyone’s attention instantly.
Naturally, the trio—Zigmund, Kiril, and Ekaterina—watched the commotion with alert curiosity.
Upon seeing the tumultuous red-haired woman, Kiril experienced a moment of déjà vu, exchanging glances with a startled Ekaterina, while Zigmund couldn’t believe his own eyes.
“Whoa! Why are you banging the door open like that?!”
“Uh… I thought I was opening it quietly?”
“Quietly, my foot! Who hits a door like they’re aiming to smash through the British Empire?!”
“Why are we talking about India here?!”
“It’s clearly a criticism of white folks. Accept it without arguing.”
“But that’s America!”
“America is the illegitimate child born of England and the result of not using condoms, as well documented in the Louvre, along with the Rosetta Stone, the Code of Hammurabi, and the Watermelons.”
“Complete nonsense!”
Oh dear, why are they here?