The cigar boutique, a true heaven for aficionados, beckoned effortlessly with its magnificent exterior and a showcase displaying premium products.
I stepped inside, where a charming clerk, diligently arranging the store, welcomed me warmly.
"Welcome. Is there something specific you're searching for?" he inquired.
"I can't quite recall the brand, but I was captivated by a unique scent," I replied.
My eyes darted around the meticulously arranged cigars as the clerk, raising his eyebrows slightly, joined me at the display.
"These are mostly Cuban handmade cigars," he explained. "They differ mainly in brand, not in craftsmanship. Take the 'Macanudo,' for instance, a top choice in the United States. It's a perfect starting point for beginners with its mild and exquisite flavor."
He seemed to peg me as a novice in the world of handmade cigars. I examined the 'Macanudo' he handed me.
"What's the price range for this?" I asked.
"They go for $7 each," he answered. "Is that within your budget?"
I returned the cigar, realizing it was beyond my budget. He placed it back on the shelf and posed a question.
"Are you on the search for that unique cigar you stumbled upon?"
"Yes, I'm really eager to identify it," I admitted.
He grinned mysteriously, savoring the thrill of helping me find a specific cigar amidst dozens or hundreds of choices. It was akin to solving an enigmatic puzzle with an air of expertise.
"Here's a clue: it was smoked by someone wearing $4,000 shoes."
"Your taste in shoes suggests affluence and a penchant for top-notch quality,"
I observed.
"All the cigars here are excellent, but some are truly exceptional. The one you're describing might be the 'Romeo y Julieta.' It boasts a subtle yet rich, spicy flavor with notes of damp earth, mushrooms, and sweet honey."
"It smelled damp, but not earthy or mushroomy," I pointed out. "And it had a hint of sweetness but not quite like honey."
"If it wasn't earthy, it wouldn't be El Rey del Mundo," he mused. "Did it have a hint of burning wood? Or perhaps a whiff of leather?"
"Yes, it did smell a bit like burning wood," I confirmed. "But not like leather."
"Was it notably spicy?" he probed.
"Hmm, it lacked spiciness," I replied.
"In that case, it's not Monte Cristo either. What about the cigar's shape? Was it a long cylinder or one with a tapered head and foot?"
"I only saw the remains after it was smoked, but it wasn't sharply tapered. It did have a somewhat aromatic quality?" I inquired.
"Ah, then perhaps it's this one," the clerk beamed as he presented a cigar.
"This is the Cohiba Beehike, known for its deep and delicate fragrance, heavy yet sweet aroma, and overall subtlety. Would you like to try it?"
I nodded silently as he used a cigar torch to ignite the Cohiba Beehike. Unlike ordinary cigarettes, the cigar's tip burned slowly, and the ash clung together without falling to the floor. I savored the cigar's aroma, watching the smoke dance in the air. But ultimately, I shook my head.
"It's similar, but not quite the same," I said.
"What sets it apart?" he inquired.
"The overall character is quite close," I admitted. "However, the cigar I'm looking for had a deeper scent, and the aroma was richer. Plus, it had dampness."
"If you detected a wetness, it might be because the tip of the cigar was lightly soaked in cognac before lighting it," the clerk explained. "This blends the unique flavor of cognac with the cigar's scent."
He gestured for me to wait and disappeared inside the shop. When he returned, he held a glass of what appeared to be cognac. He carefully cut the burning cigar's end, applied a drop of cognac, and relit it before handing it back to me.
"Is this closer to what you remember?" he asked.
"It's getting closer, but it's still not an exact match," I replied.
The clerk seemed troubled by my response, rubbing his forehead in contemplation.
"A similar scent indicates the same cigar type, but the one you're describing sounds darker and richer than this," he pondered. "I can think of only one possibility."
"What's that?" I inquired eagerly.
"Typically, Cohiba products are made by double-aging the main ingredient, tobacco leaves," he explained. "But there's a special edition called the'Cohiba Beehike,' produced in limited quantities to commemorate Cohiba's 40th anniversary. It's aged three times and stored in a cigar box for six years after completion, enhancing its fragrance. Unfortunately, only 4,000 of these cigars were sold in Spain as a limited edition, priced at $400 each."
$400 per cigar, with a deep and rich aroma, and the dampness from cognac. It was clear that a world of unimaginable wealth turned people into connoisseurs.
"Do you have any of those limited edition cigars?" I inquired.
The clerk smiled mischievously, and with my curiosity satisfied, I smiled back. As a token of appreciation, I selected a $20 artisanal cigar and exited the boutique.
Only 4,000 packs of 'Cohiba Beehike' existed in the world, and its flavor was truly regal. Entering my room, I noticed my luggage had already arrived. Without wasting time, I undressed and headed straight for the shower. As the hot water cascaded down, I leaned against the wall, deep in thought.
The police's explanation about the abduction upon my arrival in Russia made sense - it was undoubtedly related to the energy facility contract.
However, the mysterious appearance of the crocodile leather shoes at the scene puzzled me. Who was this person, and why was he there? While he 'saved' me, I couldn't be certain of his true intentions. Did he never intend to harm me, or was he curious about the presence of the quickly dispatched police?
Just knowing he was behind me sent shivers down my spine, rendering me almost immobile. I couldn't fathom confronting such a dangerous murderer.
It was the first time I had felt so powerless.
What if he had decided to harm me? Pointed shoes, the scent of burning cigars, a calm demeanor, and unwavering strength; he wasn't content with simply subduing his enemies.
It was as though he enjoyed instilling fear and then used it for his own benefits. Shaking my head, I attempted to shake off those haunting memories.
Dwelling on such dark thoughts would serve no purpose. Besides, the murderer didn't know where he was right now.
As I hurriedly finished my shower, I struggled with the bandage around my arm. Eventually, I removed it, revealing a lingering imprint of the killer's grip. The memory of our encounter came back, compelling me to reveal his identity to the authorities. But I couldn't bear the thought of him finding out I reported him.
I sat on a chair and opened my laptop. Thank god my luggage is safe, otherwise, I would've lost all contact with the NIS HQ (National Intelligence Service headquarters).
I plugged in my USB, and opened "NIS". Immediately, director Lim called.
"Kwon Taekju, how is everything going? Are you holding up? Also, why are you calling back so late?"
"Couldn't you choose a safer guy for me to disguise as?"
"One must possess significant importance enough to get kidnapped to meet people of high-rank."
"Why do you sound like you knew this'd happen?"
"Nonsense, why would you think that'd be the case? You're an excellent agent, Kwon Taek-joo. No matter what crisis came your way, you'd always come back alive just like you did now."
"So, Director Lim, what happened? I'm quite sure you said that someone from Gazprom would come pick me up."
"Ah, I certainly did..."
"Are you sure that was Gazprom?"
"Why don't you trust me? You yourself almost fell into a self-made trap. They even tried to contact Itochu saying that they have been waiting for you for a long time. I barely managed to divert the line and prevent it from happening. Your plane got delayed because of that disturbance, right? Because of that, you must've missed your actual staff from Gazprom who had been waiting for you at the airport. There was even an Asian who artived before you who also happened to be impersonating Hiro Sakamoto. They only realized later he wasn't the real Sakamoto. In the meantime, you were kidnapped by a fake employee."
Taek-joo sighed. Of course, how could he be so blind? That's where everything started to go south. That bastard employee Vasily, I shouldn't have killed him so peacefully.
His wrist throbbed. Hah. This is driving me crazy.
I confided in Director Lim about the murderer, hoping to tap into the headquarters' information resources. However, Lim's response was less than enthusiastic.
"Well, without a clear view of his face, there's no way to identify him,"
he reasoned. "And those 4,000 packs of cigars you mentioned are all sold out. While there could be up to 4,000 buyers, it's too risky to track them down and would take too much time. Moreover, the shoes you claimed to wear weren't limited edition products either."
He's not wrong... I opened my mouth to argue but thought better about it, realizing the futility.
"You've had quite a series of troubles from the very beginning," Lim observed.
Despite his reassurances, I could only nod, still feeling disheartened.
"No matter how much you prefer to work alone, given the chaotic start, I should've offered reassurance sooner," Lim admitted. "But you're not alone anymore."
"What?? What do you mean?" I inquired, surprised.
Lim grinned, and for the first time since our conversation began, I detected a hint of amusement in his voice.
"I've arranged some assistance for you."
"Assistance?" I repeated, taken aback.
I hadn't been informed of any partners for this mission; it had always been a solo assignment. Yet, here I was, being told otherwise.
Lim was full of surprises, and I couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead in this ever-evolving mission.
This sly prick...