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Before the vacation ended, Leoni instructed me to extract a single information agent.

It’s a defection operation.

The target includes the information agent and his family, consisting of his wife and daughter, totaling three people.

The objective of the operation is singular.

The safe escape of local information assets.

That’s all there is to it.

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Episode 10 – Change Course Northwest

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Leoni tasked me with the operation to defect information assets from the Kien Empire to Abas.

Just before my appointment as Colonel, I received the operational plan and devised detailed strategies, coordinating with the ambassador to secure the embassy’s cooperation.

For a successful defection, the embassy’s support is essential.

And finally, the crucial moment for taking the first step toward defection had arrived.

“Are you Vasiliy Karachev, the advisor?”

“Yes, that’s me. Colonel Nostrim.”

Vasiliy Vladimirovich Karachev.

He lives in an apartment on Ulitsa Street in the capital of Petrogard, along with his wife and one daughter.

His job is that of a policy advisor to a member of parliament. In the context of South Korea’s National Assembly, you could call it a level 4 advisor. As a fun fact, the legislator he serves is a three-term senior member of the ruling party and the secretary of the National Defense Committee.

Of course, for now, he’s merely the military intelligence agency’s information asset, nothing more, nothing less.

I started speaking in a calm voice. Although I hadn’t slept more than three hours and my voice carried a tired undertone, it was the softest tone I could muster.

The advisor chuckled somewhat nervously. Judging by his dark circles and sallow skin, it seemed he hadn’t slept well.

“I still keep the business card you gave me last time. I wanted to meet separately soon, and it’s good to run into you like this.”

He offered a smile, scanning the rest of my party.

Like the advisor, his wife also looked a bit out of sorts.

With a pale complexion, it seemed she was somewhat aware of the defection. Given that it’s a life-or-death matter, it looked like they had discussed it beforehand. Their daughter, a teenager, was busy being dazzled by the spectacle of the event.

Alright. I got the gist of it.

Checking the eavesdropping prevention equipment I’d placed under the table, I dove straight into the main topic.

“First, I will confirm your intention to defect. The current conversation is being recorded, and your testimony needs to be given in your own voice to take effect. Do you understand?”

At the sudden mention of defection, the advisor’s face stiffened. He clearly hadn’t anticipated discussing this openly in the midst of the event with other imperial officials around.

I maintained a calm expression, gently lowering my palm to reassure him.

“Don’t worry about eavesdropping. It’s safe here right now.”

“…Yes, I understand.”

“Then I’ll ask you. Vasiliy Vladimirovich Karachev, is it correct that you choose to defect of your own volition?”

“…Yes.”

“To which country do you wish to defect?”

“To the Kingdom of Abas.”

“Let’s move on to the next question.”

I sat with the advisor at the table, exchanging a few questions. Was it indeed his will to defect? Which country did he wish to go to? Was there any external pressure or coercion during his decision-making process?

Although these questions seemed quite formal and academic for someone declaring their defection, sadly, that’s the protocol.

Because if they defected and then claimed, “They weren’t defecting, they were abducted by the Abas Information Agency,” it could spark a diplomatic incident.

Thus, records must be kept in preparation for such claims later on.

“That will conclude today’s questioning. If we meet again, I will record what you said today once more and prepare the necessary documentation for your defection, including the appeal letter.”

“…Aren’t we defecting right away?”

“I wish I could do that for you, but there are still procedures to follow. We also need to prepare to assist you, Advisor.”

In truth, that was a fib. The defection preparations had been complete long ago.

The defection operation consists of three main stages.

The first is to write the appeal letter directly at the embassy and pay the ‘fee’.

Once I receive information in exchange for the cost of the defection, I will facilitate the advisor and his family’s departure to a third country. That’s the second stage.

Depending on whether they enter the Abas embassy in the third country or take the Warp Gate directly to Abas, the plan can diverge, but the third stage is simply to exit the empire to anywhere.

But that’s not their concern.

The important part is that the moment they go straight to the embassy to defect, I will be the one under suspicion. After all, I was the last Abas diplomat they contacted.

To keep my head on my shoulders, I must maintain a significant distance from them. That’s why I’ve been running around, sleeping only three hours a night, attending events, meeting people, putting on quite the show.

Anyway.

“The next schedule will take some time, and we need to meet in a safe location….”

I stroked my chin and let my words trail off.

“Is it possible for you to come directly to our embassy, Advisor?”

“…….”

The advisor’s face turned ashen.

The policy advisor to the secretary of the National Defense Committee, privy to all manner of military secrets, going to an enemy embassy?

If there was at least a reason, that could be one thing, but the moment he fumbled for an excuse, it’d be all over. Especially if the Imperial Guard HQ caught wind of it, it wouldn’t end well. He probably knew that too.

So, this was the final hurdle.

A vital question: does he really have the courage to abandon his country and start a new life elsewhere?

After mulling it over long and hard, the advisor reached his conclusion.

“I think it’s possible.”

—

After the first meeting, as soon as the event concluded, I locked myself in the embassy to prepare for the next stage.

Through the ambassador, the head of the diplomatic mission, I sought the cooperation of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and contacted the minister and chief of the military attaché to ask for support in an emergency. For reference, those two are the head of the Royal Intelligence Department and the branch director of the Military Intelligence Agency.

I concentrated on my diplomatic duties while preparing the operation. Given that the intelligence agency was keeping an eye on me, it was vital to act as naturally as possible.

During this time, the advisor applied for vacation.

Since his busy schedule was coming to a close, he made up an excuse to go on a family trip abroad for about three days, conveniently overlapping with the weekend. Fortunately, his vacation request was accepted without much fuss. It was the fruit of the solid trust he’d built over years of working under the legislator.

The tricky part was the excuse to visit the embassy…

But a solution soon presented itself.

[[The Ministry of Defense is facing fierce backlash after approving the dispatch of foreign attaches to the northern conflict area. Both ruling and opposition members of the National Defense Committee are resisting fiercely, claiming it was conducted hastily, violating international law and excluding international organizations…]]

[[Concerns are rising regarding military security. Today, members of the National Defense Committee are set to visit the Abas embassy in protest….]]

Members of the National Defense Committee made their way to the Abas embassy. Those legislators who didn’t fancy me going north had decided to confront me personally.

Of course, this was simply a political performance.

These lawmakers, unable to rein in their overflowing patriotism during their busy schedules, weren’t genuinely here to protest; it was a desperate attempt to prove their loyalty to maintain their positions in a dictatorial regime.

I watched the imperial lawmakers parade in, alongside a slew of journalists, ready to snap photos as they met with the Abas ambassador and evaluated the absurd scene.

“What a commotion since this morning.”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“I heard murmurs from the aides a few days ago, but I really didn’t think they would show up.”

As I absorbed the idle chatter of diplomats who had stepped out to observe the spectacle amidst their busy schedules, I spotted an opportunity to extract my target from among the horde of advisors accompanying the lawmakers.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Haha… not at all.”

It was the advisor carrying out his final duty the day before his vacation, smiling wearily.

You could tell he had a talent for scheming with all his experience as an information agent.

“Now, let’s see….”

I muttered thoughtfully as I glanced at my watch, rolled up my sleeve. I could hear the advisor gulping nervously.

“With the legislators’ meeting with the ambassador and the press conference scheduled….

“I should have some time around that hour.”

“…….”

“Let’s go.”

I covered the clock and began to guide him further into the embassy.

Thus, we moved into the security zone.

*

Diplomatic missions have security areas.

Just like the Defense Attaché Office on the fifth floor of the Magic Tower Embassy and the information management office of the Royal Intelligence Department, these security zones are mostly related to information agencies, and access is restricted to authorized personnel only.

It’s a place where even cleaners and administrative staff seldom come, and normally, even ambassadors don’t venture in often.

In one office of the security area of the Embassy of Abas in the Kien Empire.

There were two metal desks and chairs, and one wall was entirely made of glass, reminiscent of an interrogation room, where the advisor was seated.

I glanced beyond the glass wall and sipped on the Magic Tower brand mixed coffee.

“Ugh.”

Still awful. I had hoped for something better since it was a new product, but all I got was a bitter, astringent taste.

Did Pippin and the analysts pour sugar into the coffee back in the day as a desperate attempt to salvage this tasteless muck? While pondering such trivial thoughts, the office door swung open.

“Director, I’m coming in.”

“Recording is ready. Three, two, one. Start.”

-Click!

With the sound of a button being pressed, the tape began to whirl.

The information officer, wearing headphones and checking the audio quality, skillfully manipulated the equipment, holding a pen in one hand while propping up his chin like a moviegoer.

I confirmed the status of the lie detector and filming magical tools while observing the interrogation room’s interior along with the other attachés.

Preparations had already been made in case the defection operation failed, as the attaché, whose identity was already exposed (he didn’t really intend to hide it, being the branch director), decided to personally conduct the interview. Initially, I had intended to handle it myself, but suddenly a directive came down from above and he stepped in as a substitute.

Perhaps the Military Intelligence Agency had issued a separate order out of concern that my identity might be compromised if the informant were caught.

As I sipped my coffee while wearing headphones to shake off drowsiness, the flustered advisor’s voice began to flow out.

-“Um… where did that person from earlier go?”

-“If you’re referring to the officer who brought you here, I can tell you he couldn’t enter this building.”

The blunt words of the attaché followed.

-“Mr. Vasiliy Vladimirovich Karachev. Before we get to the main point, I’d like to ask a few questions. It is correct that you chose to defect of your own free will, right?”

-“Yes.”

-“First, I would like to ask about your life. Can you describe the kind of life you’ve lived as best as you remember?”

Starting with ordinary questions about background, relationships, workplace life, and family status.

-“It seems you have faced financial issues in recent years. Your expenditures exceeded your income. What happened?”

-“Well, just a lot of expenses came up.”

-“Could those expenses perhaps be related to a relationship with an intern secretary from another congressional office?”

-“….”

-“Of course, having a romantic relationship with someone you meet at a social club isn’t really a big problem in the aristocratic society. But it’s different in Abas, so I’m asking just to confirm.”

-“…We only met briefly. We wanted to see each other, and we parted on good terms.”

-“Parting on good terms? You certainly seemed pretty messed up. I hear you changed your personality right after the breakup. Isn’t it true you secretly brought a doctor home for some mental counseling?”

-“How would you know that—”

Awkward questions about reckless spending and infidelity.

Listening to the questions, I started to grasp how this gentleman had become embroiled with the Military Intelligence Agency.

He probably couldn’t cope with consumption habits that were untenable on a civil servant’s salary, which ultimately led him to accept money offered by an information officer.

While skimming through the records, I noticed that the information officer managing the advisor had retired the previous year. An official frontman from the Empire Embassy who could no longer endure fieldwork and was now convalescing in his hometown.

The interview continued while I read supplementary material from the Military Intelligence Agency regarding the advisor.

The Defense Attaché was obsessively pulling out every minor flaw in the advisor’s life one by one.

Once it became known that the advisor had defected, I was sure black propaganda would ensue, so it seemed like they intended to clean up any issues as much as possible.

His talent for cutting ties was just like Leoni’s style. Considering that the director took over the interview suddenly, it appeared Leoni had directly ordered the details.

The attaché was making the advisor squirm to the point where I felt embarrassed to watch. It was undoubtedly a humiliating moment for him, but the advisor managed to endure steadfastly.

Eventually, the attaché took a step back.

-“Alright. Thank you for honestly answering, Mr. Vasiliy. Now, let’s get to the point.”

Was he lightening the mood, or what? The attaché cracked a few jokes to create a softer atmosphere.

With a slightly warm smile, the information officer asked about the reason for his defection.

-“What prompted you to decide on defection?”

The advisor answered without a trace of hesitation.

-“It’s for my daughter’s health.”

-“Your daughter’s health? What seems to be the issue?”

-“She has heart problems. It’s a chronic illness that costs a lot, and more importantly, while the Magic Tower is conducting research, there isn’t a clear treatment method available yet….”

A defection due to family health.

While not common in developed countries, it’s a relatively frequent occurrence in underdeveloped nations. I had heard from seniors about North Korean diplomats who sometimes defected to cure their illnesses.

The supplement section of the Military Intelligence Agency’s documentation indeed noted that the advisor’s daughter appeared to have health issues. It was indicated she often complained of heart pain after even slightly vigorous physical activity during PE class in the academy.

But something felt off.

“…The Empire’s healthcare system isn’t primitive, is it?”

Though the Kien Empire’s medical system is often criticized, it isn’t in a completely backward state like some remote areas of Africa or the Middle East.

It consistently produces high-level personnel and its medical research achievements are recognized internationally, making it quite competent.

Thus, it’s common for medical students from authoritarian countries to aspire to study in the Empire, and occasionally medical professionals from Abas or Patalia visit the Empire for studies as well.

Of course, if it were a life-threatening condition related to heart problems, and excessive costs resulting from structural issues within the Empire’s medical system were behind the decision, it wouldn’t be entirely incomprehensible. However, defecting out of the blue left me feeling something was amiss.

I wasn’t the only one thinking this, as several staff members also tilted their heads in confusion.

-“I sympathize with your child’s situation. But is that all there is to it?”

-“Huh?”

-“Are you saying the sole reason for your defection is for your daughter’s treatment?”

The attaché’s voice turned blunt again.

-“If you’re lying, issues could arise during future investigations. In the worst case, you may be expelled from Abas.”

-“…….”

The advisor’s expression darkened slightly.

In that brief moment, it seemed a flurry of thoughts crossed the advisor’s mind, and he seemed to settle into a more resolute tone as he spoke.

-“…It’s not the only reason.”

-“Please tell me more.”

-“My daughter has become draft eligible.”

 

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