Frank looked at Anna with a half-smile. "You guessed right. Someone will suggest that Vasiliev award you a medal. He might not agree, but he'll definitely summon you when he arrives in Paris."
As the two discussed their future plans, Jack looked at Brian, who simply shrugged innocently.
Frank had truly found the right person for this matter. Only a veteran of the complex late Cold War era could have orchestrated such a scheme.
---
Late at night, in the safe house, after a quick vegetable salad, Jack packed his things and prepared to depart. This time, the undercover period wouldn't be as long as the previous one, but the subsequent evacuation would take quite a while, so minimizing unnecessary food would minimize any complications.
The others also had their own tasks. Brian handed Jack a few bullets with red tips and quickly left.
Anna had already left before him. She was probably in her apartment downtown, anxiously awaiting orders from the FSB.
Around 3:00 AM, Jack, carrying his TAC-50, infiltrated the renovated observation deck.
Frank explained that work had been temporarily halted due to funding issues and promised no one would disturb them. However, he still carefully searched the area and set simple sound traps at several entrances.
With everything ready, the long wait began. The morning was beautiful. Paris boasts a temperate maritime climate, with mild winters and mild summers, though spring and autumn tend to experience more rain.
Today, however, was a bright, crisp autumn day. Jack wondered if Frank had factored that into his plans, but judging by the veteran spy's style of planning operations, it seemed likely.
Meanwhile, two kilometers away from Jack, inside the embassy, Anna sat on a bench in the third-floor corridor, trying to regulate her breathing and heartbeat.
As Frank explained the plan, she felt a moment of wanting to give up. She even suspected the entire situation was a conspiracy from the beginning, that she had been part of a vast conspiracy since she accidentally drank the sleepy tea and was kidnapped.
It was all too unbelievable. At her most vulnerable moment, a handsome figure suddenly appeared and protected her, like a staged hero saving a beautiful woman.
She admitted that she was a bit drug-addled at the time, and for a moment, she was quite moved. But what agent hasn't undergone drug tolerance training?
However, just as she was about to act out her act, the man suddenly revealed his identity, and the events that followed were completely beyond her expectations.
Anna kept reminding herself that this might be a deliberate trap, but her mind told her otherwise.
She was just an insignificant person; no one would risk the lives of so many wealthy and famous people to set a trap for someone like her.
As she followed Jack to finish off the enemy with her Viper, she carefully confirmed the identities of the people in the box. Although she didn't recognize all of them, the ones she recognized had no trace of makeup on their faces.
She knew that the subsequent conversation between the two had been deliberately overheard by her, and that it was Jack's kind tip, so Anna didn't hesitate to grab at the lifeline.
Then, the events unfolded again beyond her expectations. The girl, ready to give her everything, was met with a scornful wrath.
What she considered insurmountable was a mere matter of a few phone calls to a bald old man.
Frank's plan stunned her. Not only did it involve no significant risk, but she was no longer the ultimate executor or true beneficiary.
The freedom she had longed for, longed for, seemed a side benefit. It defied all logic, yet felt all too real.
Anna had long ago told herself to stop trusting men, stop trusting anyone, and rely solely on herself.
But she could do nothing on her own; she was simply moving from one prison to another.
"The General wishes to see you," a man named Chenkov appeared before Anna.
Anna looked up at him. This man had once been her hope, recruited into the FSB with a false promise, and the very object of her original plan.
Her only confidence lay in her appearance. She could sense the lust hidden in his seemingly cold eyes, a desire to devour her alive.
He definitely wouldn't mind being too thin and bony, as this is the body type every girl dreams of.
Inexplicably, a thought of another despicable man came to Anna, and she quickly gathered her thoughts. She stood up, smoothed the wrinkles on her skirt, and followed Chenkov silently.
They entered a plain lounge, a small table in the middle, a chessboard already set up, an ashtray beside it.
Anna instinctively glanced at the west-facing window and saw that the red curtains were drawn, but the window was not open.
Vasiliev, a cigar dangling from his lips, simply nodded slightly toward the seat across from him, motioning for Anna to take a seat.
"I invited you to a game last time we met, but you refused. You won't refuse me again this time, will you?"
Anna forced a smile and sat down across from Vasiliev.
The last time she had seen this general, he had a gun pointed at his head one moment, and the next, this psychopath was asking her to play chess. She had the courage to respond with "sometime later," a gesture of disregarding her own life.
At this thought, Anna glanced out the window again. Vasiliev seemed to have misunderstood something, and nodded to Chenkov, who was standing beside her, "Go open the window."
The girl was slightly startled. She hadn't expected Frank's only task to be completed so smoothly, without even having to pretend to choke on the smoke.
Vasiliev was in a good mood today. Although an important guest was stuck in traffic, it gave him a rare moment of rest.
Although his subordinates always prepared a smoking room and chess set for him wherever he went, Vasiliev rarely used them, partly due to a lack of time and partly due to a lack of good opponents.
The girl before him was a good opponent, stubborn and unyielding. He only hoped her chess skills would be as good as her profile stated.
"I must admit, I didn't have high hopes for you at first. A girl who's too pretty can become a real problem sooner or later, so we usually only hire those with average looks."
Vasiliev stroked his graying beard. His slate-green pupils, now tinged with age and tinged with white around the edges, resembled the eyes of a dead fish, and his gaze was incredibly creepy.
Anna didn't respond, unsure how to respond. She concentrated on thinking and moving the pieces on the board.
Vasiliev chattered on to himself, "Your superiors have suggested awarding you a Medal of Excellence. If you can beat me today, it'll be yours. What do you think?"
"I'll try my best." Anna tried to stop looking at the window and focus on the chessboard, but it was difficult.
As time passed, she began to doubt herself. The past few days had become like a dream, no longer real, as if she had imagined it all.
Could this all be a dream? Was she still under the effects of hallucinogens, her longing for freedom leading her to conjure up this bizarre series of experiences? In reality, she was being ravaged by some obese, wealthy man.
"You don't look well today. If this continues, you'll lose that medal."
For a moment, even Vasiliev's voice on the other side became indistinct.
"General!"
A few drops of warm liquid suddenly splashed on her face, and Anna snapped back to reality. Then, a belated sound of something breaking through the air was heard.
"Whoosh!"
(End of chapter)