Answering God's Call - Chapter 14

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The apartment building where several generations lived on each floor had a cleaner exterior than its age suggested, as if it had been freshly painted. The surroundings, with a river running behind the building, were quieter than expected.

Standing in front of the elevator on the first floor, Tatyana asked, “Room 410?”

“Yes. At least on paper.”

The worn elevator rattled continuously as it climbed to the fourth floor. Before Ruslan could reach out, Tatyana casually pushed open the iron-barred door and took the lead. Her low voice echoed softly as she glanced over the faded walls.

“Of course she won’t be home, so we’ll have to find something.”

“Are you in a hurry?”

“…Not really. It’s not that bad.”

“If it’s not that bad, then?”

“What, are you worried I’ll rush and mess things up?”

At the curt reply, Ruslan’s steps slowed. Tatyana, who had stopped midway down the narrow corridor, turned back to look at him. Why is he so persistent? Is he bored?

“You might’ve lived comfortably as an exorcist priest even after being demoted, but I didn’t.”

“….”

“Standing on the edge every moment doesn’t change just because you defect from Lubyanka to Lytton. Only if I handle everything without mistakes can I extend my life by a few more turns of the clock, a few days, or maybe a few months. Especially this time….”

Before Ruslan, momentarily taken aback, could even form a reply, Tatyana waved her hand dismissively.

“I’m talking too much. Forget you heard it.”

“I already heard it. What do you mean forget it?”

“Fine. My mistake.”

Letting out a sigh as if she had said something unnecessary, Tatyana quickened her pace, leaving Ruslan standing there. But when she reached the door of room 410, she simply held the poorly secured doorknob without moving.

Ruslan, who had caught up with long strides, asked curiously, “What is it? Do you smell blood again?”

“No. Not blood….”

Trailing off, Tatyana tightened her grip on the doorknob slightly, then shattered the locked handle and its mechanism in one motion. The handle fell to the floor with a clatter, and Ruslan’s eyes widened in shock.

“What are you doing?”

“Can’t you see?”

“I can see. You broke the door—”

“That’s not the point. You smell it, right? It’s strong, isn’t it?”

“…Yeah. It is. It’s awful.”

As if someone had broken a bottle of perfume while fleeing in a hurry, the entire house reeked of it. Fleming’s house had been filled with the stench of blood, but this was worse. Frowning inwardly, Tatyana quickly scanned the disordered room. There was no need to ask or confirm anything.

A radio crackling as if tuned to the wrong frequency, a disheveled bed, a wardrobe flung open and nearly half empty, stacks of coffee cups and dishes piled in the sink. Everything was visible at a glance. What more was there to say?

As Tatyana’s gaze swept rapidly from the ceiling to the cabinets in search of any trace of Samuel Gilmore or the leaked classified information, her eyes suddenly narrowed.

There were signs everywhere of a hurried departure with only the essentials taken, yet there wasn’t a single photograph frame on any shelf or bookcase.

Had anything that could reveal identity or background not been displayed to begin with, or was there no need to maintain a fabricated life because there were no visitors? Or perhaps there were simply no memories worth keeping.

In any case, it was the moment the suspicion that Rebecca West was an illegal operative deepened even further.

“…What is this?”

While Ruslan was looking around elsewhere, Tatyana nudged the shattered perfume bottle aside with the tip of her foot, her eyes narrowing. Her gaze examining the scattered glass shards was as sharp as the broken fragments themselves.

“This is really strange….”

It wasn’t just one perfume bottle that had been broken, nor had it been dropped by accident in a rush. Judging by how widely the glass fragments were scattered, it looked as if it had been deliberately smashed against the floor until it shattered completely.

The place had been left in a mess before whoever it was disappeared, yet they had time to throw perfume? No, before that, why break this at all?

Swallowing a pained groan, Tatyana inhaled deeply through her nose as if she had no choice. The harsh scent flooded into her lungs that had been holding their breath.

Rose, jasmine, lily, magnolia, peach, musk….

It felt like her sense of smell might burst from the overwhelming fragrance, but Tatyana managed to pick out a single unpleasant scent hidden among the many perfumes. She could tell the perfume had been used like a smokescreen to conceal something, but….

What is this smell?

It was a scent she had smelled somewhere before. She was sure she knew it, but her overloaded senses made it hard to identify it clearly.

The suspicious smell was one thing, but it seemed better to get some fresh air before her nose started bleeding, so she turned halfway toward the window, only to spot something in passing and immediately turn back. She hadn’t seen it wrong.

The gas hose connected to the kitchen stove had been cleanly cut.

Realizing what the faint unease hidden beneath the perfume smell actually was, Tatyana stilled her movements and checked the window with only her eyes.

As expected. A thin, long wire was hooked onto the slightly open window frame, as if inviting someone to push it open. When Tatyana spotted the improvised bomb attached beneath the window, her face turned cold.

Ah, I had a bad feeling. It’s a trap.

They had entered without the owner’s permission, but still. This was far too extreme a way to welcome intruders. Fixing her gaze on the bomb, Tatyana raised her hand and called out to Ruslan. They needed to get out immediately.

“Father, Father? Ruslan!”

“Did you find Samuel Gilmore’s corpse in the refrigerator?”

“No. Don’t touch anything, no, don’t!”

It would have been better if it were just a rotting corpse. The moment Ruslan’s hand touched the slightly open drawer handle, Tatyana rushed over and tried to stop him. But this time, Ruslan was just a bit faster.

As soon as he pulled the drawer open, something dropped with a small click, as if it had been waiting. It was the safety pin separated from the grenade that had been attached to the drawer.

“…Ah.”

“…Damn it.”

The moment Ruslan spotted the grenade rolling near his feet, he instinctively grabbed Tatyana by the waist and pulled her tight against his side. He leaped over the sofa and rushed toward the opposite terrace where the glass door was closed. Hanging onto him, Tatyana drew her pistol and fired mercilessly at the glass window.

The moment Ruslan burst through the shattered glass and jumped over the railing, the grenade and the improvised bomb ignited the gas and exploded with greater force than their original capacity. Fierce flames and fragments brushed dangerously close across their bodies.

A violent splash erupted over the calm surface of the river.

They sank deep enough that their feet couldn’t touch the bottom, but fortunately, the current wasn’t strong, so it wasn’t difficult to swim to the opposite bank. As soon as they cleared the water, Tatyana and Ruslan spoke before even catching their breath. At the same time, without either of them going first.

“Are you okay?”

“Are you hurt?”

Tatyana, soaked through, tore off her veil and cap as if throwing them away and sprawled onto the grass. She coughed lightly, her breathing coming out in short bursts as she steadied it.

“I’m fine, at most… but why do I smell blood… ah.”

Following the metallic scent, Tatyana turned her head and sprang upright. Blood was running from Ruslan’s left shoulder as he sat down beside her. It was a wound from the shattered glass they had burst through onto the terrace.

The gash across his shoulder blade was long and deep, visible even in the dark. It wasn’t fatal, but the blood flowing down his arm wasn’t trivial. When they fell, it seemed his side on the same side had been cut as well, because the hand clutching her waist was soaked with blood.

We need to stop the bleeding quickly. Tatyana’s gaze, assessing the wound, settled into calm focus. As their eyes met while she checked his condition, Ruslan asked shortly,

“…You.”

“Yes?”

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

As if he hadn’t properly heard her answer, his face remained completely composed as he repeated the question.

Staring at Ruslan, whose expression didn’t waver as if he felt no pain at all, Tatyana’s face, which had stayed cold even when she discovered the severed gas hose and the improvised bomb, blurred for a moment.

What is this man saying?

He’s the one who needs immediate treatment, while I’ve got nothing more than bruises and scrapes, so who exactly is worrying about whom here? It’s not a life-threatening wound, so she hadn’t been particularly worried, but if anyone was going to worry, it should be her.

She had been relieved seeing how intact he looked compared to the injury, but now he blindsides her like this. At a loss for words, Tatyana lightly pressed her lips together as if wiping away the water dripping from them.

She should just say she’s fine and tell him to worry about himself instead. But the words didn’t come easily. It felt strange.

The way he had, as if it were only natural, tucked her under his arm and escaped the moment he saw the grenade, and that question just now. Given the situation, it wasn’t intentional or calculated, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had been protected by Ruslan.

Protected.

After her parents, taken to the Cherkubo Gulag, died from an epidemic that spread inside, it was a word that had vanished from Tatyana’s life forever.

Worry, protection… quietly repeating those unfamiliar words to herself without realizing it, Tatyana wrung out her wet hair and avoided Ruslan’s gaze, which seemed to be examining her. She had only ever received such things from her parents as a child, and now even those memories were faint. The concern coming from a man she barely knew felt sudden and uncomfortable.