Free Web NovelThe man who arrived dragging soldiers behind him was none other than Sergei Borisovich Ivanov—virtually the representative face of the siloviki.
And he wasn’t alone. The SVR Director, Sergei Lebedev, had come with him.
Armed soldiers poured into the camp, and the mercenaries instantly tensed.
The Zaslon operators also stiffened, but the moment they recognized the SVR Director, they lowered their guard. They rushed over and saluted him.
Lebedev glanced toward me as he accepted their salute. I saw it and smiled faintly.
I walked down the steps slowly toward them.
As the distance closed, Chief Ma positioned himself to be able to draw a weapon at any moment, and my security detail spread out, watching every angle.
When I approached Ivanov, I deliberately greeted him with exaggerated casualness.
“Minister of Defense, long time no see.”
I finally reached him and extended my hand first.
“Has it been a year?”
Ivanov stared expressionlessly for a moment, then grasped my hand.
“Seems so, President Kim.”
His thick hand tightened slightly. I showed no reaction whatsoever, and both of us finished the handshake with polite smiles.
“What brings you here?”
“I heard a few days ago that some major operation was underway—one I knew nothing about. So I came to inspect for myself.”
“Hm. But the President and I agreed that the Russian military would not be involved in this operation.”
Even mentioning the President didn’t faze Ivanov. He answered bluntly.
“That’s the official stance. Unofficially, this operation includes the deployment of our special forces. I need to know what’s going on.”
“...Let’s head inside. Too many eyes here.”
“Yes, let’s.”
Even as we spoke, I could feel Lebedev glaring at me—but I ignored him completely.
Before we stepped inside, I looked at the armed troops and said to Ivanov:
“First, send the soldiers you brought back outside the camp. This is a Black Bear camp. Bringing soldiers in without permission is... discourteous.”
“In Russia, there is no place our army cannot go.”
“This is a camp handed to me by the President. Without my permission, no one enters. What you’re doing now is ignoring the authority the President entrusted to me. Are you saying you stand above him?”
“...”
“Is that what you believe, Minister Sergei Ivanov?”
Sergei Ivanov was the Russian Federation’s first civilian Minister of Defense.
He had risen spectacularly to the center of power after Yeltsin stepped down—an archetypal silovik.
And until the day I died, he remained one of the central figures of Russian power.
“What should we do?” he asked.
“Withdraw them,” I replied flatly.
Ivanov didn’t bother with meaningless displays of dominance. He turned to Lebedev.
“Lebedev. Pull everyone out of the camp.”
“But—”
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“...Understood.”
After giving the order, Ivanov looked back to me and asked:
“Should we pull the Zaslon operators out as well?”
“They’re already part of the camp. No need. But inside the camp, they obey our commands—without exception. As for your soldiers breaking protocol and barging in, we’ll discuss that later.”
“That is...”
“There are no exceptions. The moment you start allowing exceptions, operations fail. If anything, Minister, you should know that better than me—given your time in the ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) FSB. Leave fieldwork to the field, am I wrong?”
When I invoked the FSB, he had no choice but to nod.
“Still, they are soldiers. During an operation, they’ll obey any order.”
“Let’s head inside. The treatment of the unit isn’t my job anyway—that belongs to the commander, Igor.”
I tipped my chin toward the mercenaries gathered nearby, and Ivanov looked over.
“So Igor really is here.”
“You know him?”
“Of course. Our relationship was... not great. But no one could fail to know that man—the legend of the Russian military.”
“Is that so?”
I hadn’t expected Ivanov to know him as well. I’d have to ask Igor later exactly what kind of man he was in the past.
We continued talking as I led him into a building inside the camp.
“At some point, I heard the legend had returned—as a mercenary, no less. And under you, President Kim.”
“Thanks to him, I acquired a fine blade.”
“There’s nothing we can say. It was the Soviet Union that failed to look after men like him, and even after the collapse—during the transition—Russia still failed them. For taking care of them, we owe you thanks.”
We arrived at a conference room attached to the building. Only four people entered: myself, Chief Ma, Ivanov, and Lebedev.
I didn’t waste time.
“So. Why have you come?”
“Is Kim Jongil truly the objective of this operation?”
“You already heard that, didn’t you?”
“I did, but it was hard to believe. Even when the President himself told me. Only he, I, and the SVR Director here know this.”
Ivanov immediately expanded on his statement—clearly understanding what I was concerned about.
“That’s correct. The mission objective is the capture of Kim Jongil. If that proves impossible, killing him becomes the secondary objective.”
“...”
The room fell silent. Then Ivanov let out a dry laugh.
He had heard it once before, but hearing it stated plainly again—he couldn’t hide his disbelief.
“To capture the head of state of a nation... Kim Muhyuk, are you fearless, or do you simply not think ahead? Do you truly believe this can succeed?”
“You won’t know until you try.”
“And for this, you requested our special forces? If Russia’s involvement becomes known—”
I cut him off.
“What are you talking about? I never requested the Russian military. The President requested me. Your sequence of events is reversed.”
“What... The President himself ordered the deployment of Zaslon?”
“You didn’t know?”
“...”
What on earth was the President thinking?
Did he not explain the operation in detail even to his own Minister of Defense?
Or did he simply consider this another minor incident in a stream of incidents?
I sighed at the sight of the clueless minister.
“Listen carefully, Minister. North Korea possesses a nuclear weapon transferred from the Soviet Union.”
“I’m aware.”
“When this is over, that nuclear weapon will quietly return to Russia—unnoticed. That is why the President deployed special forces. I never requested them. If you want to withdraw them now, do it. It would be easier for me.”
I hated complications.
Even with only our mercenaries, success was far from certain. Now I had to waste time on petty turf disputes.
Even this conversation was tiresome and annoying.
“...The President already issued the order. We cannot act independently.”
“Then why did you send Arshavin to defy orders? The agreement was that your forces follow our directives without exception.”
“That was not our intention. That was the independent action of Director Lebedev here. I apologize for that.”
Ivanov offered an apology, then glared at Lebedev.
“Well? Aren’t you going to apologize?”
Lebedev bowed immediately.
“...I am sorry. I only wished to determine whether you were someone we could trust with our operatives. If I offended you, I apologize. It will not happen again.”
This bastard lied without even moistening his lips.
Normally I might have played along with the staged apology, but I wasn’t in the mood.
Smiling crookedly, I stared down at the top of Lebedev’s bowed head.
“Is that so? You wanted to see if I was trustworthy? Then why is it that Arshavin, the moment he returned, stormed to Medvedev’s office in a rage?”
“That... Arshavin is an important asset to the SVR. A man like that returned with an irreparable injury. Naturally we must protest.”
“Hm.”
I swallowed my irritation and studied him. He was clearly displeased but unwilling to defy Ivanov’s authority.
So Lebedev held his position because of Ivanov’s support. Their power dynamic was obvious.
And now his sudden switch from aggressive to conciliatory behavior had to have a reason.
“What’s past is past. When you send the new commander, tell him he is to obey Igor without question. If that’s done, I won’t pursue this further.”
“We’ll do so.”
“Igor will hold overall operational command. Zaslon will handle nuclear retrieval. Discuss the specifics with him.”
I ignored Lebedev completely and turned to Ivanov.
“Minister, I’ve heard the siloviki do not like me. I faced heavy interference during the Yugansk acquisition as well. Why the change in attitude?”
“To be frank? I see no reason to be at odds with you. Your influence in Russia comes from the President’s trust—and for that trust to continue, you must want him to remain in power long-term. Is that not so?”
At least the higher-ranking ones could think.
I raised an eyebrow slightly and nodded.
“So why should we be enemies?”
“I don’t recall provoking you first. It has been the siloviki who kept provoking me. I haven’t even retaliated properly yet, so calling it a feud feels premature.”
“I know. But this time you were in real danger. The hardliners considered assassination.”
...Was that a threat? I hardened my expression, and Ivanov hurried to clarify.
“No misunderstanding. I’m informing you because it occurred. I have already handled it.”
“Do you understand the weight of those words?”
He spoke casually of an attempt on my life.
I was prepared, of course—but anything could happen in such matters.
“I understand. The reason I share something unnecessary to share is simple: we want your trust. All we seek is the President’s prolonged rule. Now we will support your work as well. So support us in return. That is why I came.”
“You want me to join hands with the siloviki?”
“Not all of them—only with me, Sergei Ivanov. I will suppress the others.”
He stated it plainly: he wanted an alliance with me personally, not the faction as a whole.
“And what do you gain?”
“To surpass Medvedev. To become the second-most powerful man in Russia. That is my goal. For that, I ask your help.” freewebnøvel.com
To surpass Medvedev... His unabashed ambition almost made me laugh.
That was impossible. Medvedev lacked a faction, yes. But Ivanov’s faction was large—and still, the Kremlin would never accept him over Medvedev.
Nor did I intend to support anyone other than Medvedev.
Medvedev was my greatest ally in Russia.
“That will be difficult. Even if I help you, the master of the Kremlin will never approve it.”
I rejected his proposal.
