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elevator ride down to the 5th floor was filled with the dim glow of flickering fluorescent lights as the steel doors caught my eye.

The steel door, thickly coated in gray paint, proudly displayed a shabby sign reading “Hanbyeol World Tour.”

“Hanbyeol World Tour” was a small travel agency that had survived the pandemic while major airlines and travel companies collapsed one after another, steadily raking in sales.

However, aside from the building manager who came to complain daily about the excessive electricity bill and the delivery riders constantly hauling in food with both hands, hardly anyone visited the agency for personal matters.

The Section Chief Kim of Hanbyeol World Tour. The man referred to as ‘Kim Section Chief’ did not quite fit into any of the previous three examples. After all, he was just an employee of this travel agency.

Yet, those who personally knew Kim Section Chief from the military academy or came to the office on official business would call this little-known medium-sized travel agency by another name: the Information Command’s dispatch office.

Section Chief Kim of Hanbyeol World Tour, Lieutenant Seo from the Ministry of Defense’s Information Command, held a yellow binder and politely called out to his senior.

“Manager! Manager, please wake up. It’s lunch time.”

I checked the time with bleary eyes resting on my chin atop the desk.

“…Lunch time.”

Lunch. The sole highlight that office workers in South Korea eagerly awaited, being one of the few joys at work.

On a usual day, I would have eagerly headed to the cafeteria to gobble up the generously served Korean food, but today, I couldn’t even muster the energy to move.

“Let’s order delivery.”

“Another delivery? Didn’t you just have kimchi jjim yesterday?”

“Then let’s go with Chinese food. I want jjajangmyeon.”

“And sweet and sour pork?”

“You know what happens when the sauce is poured, right?”

With my card placed on the desk, I sighed, looking at the mountain of operation plans.

“…Ugh.”

Another business trip it is.

Extra Episode – Same day, same place, different antics.

A business trip had been scheduled.

The destination was Sudan, a wretched country in Africa where the rebels had initiated their third civil war due to a coup d’état.

I twirled a pen between my fingers while flipping through documents. It was a new operational directive sent from headquarters.

The hundreds of pages were packed full of elaborate details, including an overview of Sudan’s political, social, cultural, and economic climate prepared by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, along with intelligence collected by the National Intelligence Service about the ongoing civil war.

Much of the document consisted of photographs and profiles of individuals.

From the colorful flags inscribed with Arabic to warlord combatants decked out in a hodgepodge of military uniforms seemingly scavenged from anywhere, there were also top leaders and key executives shared by the UK SIS. Among them were materials written by the intelligence agencies of Sudan’s neighboring countries.

Even at a glance, the variety of information was dizzying.

The regions where civil war was active were ripe for arms trafficking. And the lawlessness of these warzone areas matched the dangers of slums in South America, rural Afghanistan, and foreigner residences in Central African nations.

Given that the government’s influence had loosened, it was no wonder that the North Korean folks or we wouldn’t hesitate to deploy military might.

If we enter the area like this, it was highly likely that our business would tumble into disarray. So, what can we do? We’ll need to prepare before reestablishing the entry angle.

I called out to Kim Section Chief from across the office desk.

“Kim Section Chief!”

“Yes, Manager! You called?”

“Contact the workshop and warehouse in Sudan.”

“Workshop” refers to the local dispatch office, while “warehouse” is a euphemism for the embassy.

Having handed off the task of securing cooperation from the branch office and the embassy to my junior officer, I turned my attention back to the operational document.

I checked not only the requirements for the operation but also the details of the red gangsters and the intel agents dispatched from that embassy. This was essential, you see.

While scribbling on a notepad and rummaging through the documents, something truly important caught my eye.

“What’s this? Why is the deadline like this?”

The deadline mentioned in the directive was by the end of this month. That means there were less than three weeks left!

It was tight. There was no time for a scouting party to enter and set up an information network—either reuse the existing one or jump right into the field myself. That was the only sound advice.

“…Geez.”

What kind of major disaster did the reds cause this time? After hurling my pen into the corner of the desk, I grabbed my smartphone, frantically dialing a number.

Due to Cairo being seven hours ahead of Seoul, it was probably early morning there. But surprisingly, my contact picked up almost immediately after only a couple of rings.

“Peace be upon you. This is Team Leader Choi from Dongil Trade.”

– “And upon you be peace. It’s been a while. What brings you to call?”

“I’m urgently reaching out regarding a business matter. Is this a good time to talk?”

I contacted an acquaintance at the Egyptian intelligence agency to seek cooperation.

– “Of course. How can I refuse when a friend asks for help?”

“I’ve heard that the rebels who initiated the coup in Sudan and local warlords are recently looking for military electronic equipment. Do you have any information on that?”

*

The information gathering for the Khartoum trip was roughly coming to an end. Arranging flights in line with the team size, solidifying emergency contacts and escape routes, and checking any possible contingencies were also almost done.

As evening approached and work hours drew near, I stepped out of the office to smoke a cigarette on the rooftop, enjoying the city’s night view.

It was then that news came in about issues arising in the business trip preparation that had been flowing smoothly.

“What? No equipment?”

“That’s correct.”

News that we wouldn’t have the gear needed for the trip awaiting us there was delivered. After making a few calls, Section Chief Kim joined me on the rooftop and began explaining.

“I asked the workshop and warehouse, but all stock is depleted.”

“What the heck have they been doing without restocking until now?”

“During the last operation, the operations team took away everything, not leaving even a speck of dust. They’re now saying they don’t even have enough for themselves… What do we do?”

“We need to go to the factory and get it. You grab the kids and start up the vehicle.”

We were already in a tight spot.

I hopped into the car, heading toward the headquarters. The Information Command, located somewhere in Gyeonggi Province, was commonly referred to as “the factory” by the employees.

After crossing the Han River and hitting the highway, I finally ran into someone familiar at the factory.

“Hey, the manager’s here?”

“Beom-soo! Long time no see. How have you been?”

“I’ve been good, really. I was surprised by the sudden call at quitting time. You came to pick up some equipment, right?”

“Yup.”

“Hurry up and come in.”

My colleague, a chubby-faced senior with a friendly demeanor, smiled as he placed his RFID chip card against the steel door.

Inside the factory was the supply warehouse, guarded by a triple-lock mechanism, with stacks of various electronic devices piled high.

With nimble fingers, he pulled out a hefty Pelican case and tapped its exterior with his thick fingers, saying, “This is the Israeli eavesdropping device you asked for. Once you shoot the laser, it’ll automatically analyze the sound waves. You know how to use it, right?”

“I’ve used it a few times.”

“Right, right. The counter-surveillance equipment is over there, and this radio here is for your use. It has frequency hopping, can send texts with the keypad, remote surveillance, deactivation, and hey, you can even intercept other people’s communications to eavesdrop.”

“Whoa.”

As I took the radio, I asked him, “What about other supplies?”

“Other supplies? You don’t need a gun, do you?”

He pointed to a sign inside the warehouse that said “Armory.” I shook my head.

“Guns are everywhere in the local area.”

It’s one thing if it’s a precise sniper rifle, but most other firearms can be found on the black market. If they’re too unreliable, I can always gather decent parts separately and assemble something.

But today, I wasn’t here to borrow firearms.

“I’m hoping to grab some bulletproof vests.”

“Bullproof vests? Didn’t you buy one last time? Uh, what’s it called? You got a top-notch one from that Esow club, right?”

“I do have a plate carrier. But I don’t have the bulletproof plate.”

I had used up all the bulletproof plates I bought last time. Of course, I could find some locally if needed, but…

“What if you buy a subpar one and it causes problems later? Do you want to become SpongeBob?”

It’s easy to suffer losses if things go south. It’s better not to get into trouble in the first place.

In the end, my senior brought me a couple of bulletproof plates from the warehouse.

“I brought enough. Stay safe.”

“Thanks, senior. I’ll contact you once I’m back.”

“Make sure to get the equipment back safely, you little rascal.”

*

The day after checking out the equipment, the higher-ups issued my passport and identification. From that day forward, I started communicating with the local office and wrapping up the final checks.

And then, it was the departure day.

“We’re gonna be late. Let’s hurry up.”

“I want to sit by the window.”

“You had a window seat last time too. Have some conscience and go for the aisle this time.”

A plane carrying several ethnic Koreans with Chinese passports took off from the airport.

The destination was Cairo.

The plan was to cross the border into Sudan within two days of arriving in Egypt. In a way, this was the starting point of my business trip.

“Make sure to eat your in-flight meal and get some sleep. We’ll need to rush to the south once we arrive.”

“Yep.”

“Make sure Eun-jung is well-prepared. I don’t want her struggling with jet lag like last time.”

“Eh. Jet lag? All I need is a meal once I arrive, then I can sleep and get up.”

“That’s a ridiculous way to think.”

I sipped on the drink the stewardess brought me, plugging in my earphones.

In the video I downloaded just before boarding, a well-dressed Al Jazeera news anchor was reporting on the civil war in Sudan.

This international flight from Incheon to Cairo soared with its massive silver wings, breaking through the clouds toward the dark continent.

*

The sky in London was cloudy upon cloudy.

Famous for its dreary atmosphere year-round, London’s gray skies had a reputation. The moisture left behind by the morning shower mixed with the murky air from factories and homes, tinting the city in a gray hue.

It was a scene I found every morning when I opened my eyes, but the British mornings, devoid of a single ray of sunshine, were something I simply couldn’t adapt to.

I vowed that once I graduated, I’d get a job that would send me to a sun-soaked country for business trips.

Even in the midst of sleep, that promise lingered in the mind of the university student, who burrowed deeper into the blanket like a caterpillar.

“Wake up.”

A familiar voice called out as someone knocked on the door.

“Wake up! We need to leave now.”

“Ugh… just ten more minutes…”

“If you keep this up, we’ll miss it.”

Muffled sounds resembling sleep-talk came from inside the blanket.

The room, echoing the sound of sleep-talk, was quite a sight. A suitcase looked as if it might burst open with clothes at the slightest touch.

On the table behind the suitcase, an assortment of small frames filled the space. Photos taken in Eastern Europe, the U.S., Canada, Hong Kong, Afghanistan, and South Sudan decorated the table.

The backgrounds varied, but it was easy to deduce the identity of the photo’s protagonist.

If you stopped any passing citizen of London and asked them who the person in the photo was, they would undoubtedly reply—”It’s that girl with the bright red hair and cheerful smile.”

Sigh…

A deep sigh came from the other side of the door.

While not too loud, it was a noise that could certainly be quite bothersome to someone who was trying to have a peaceful sleep.

Thus, the university student, checking the time displayed on her charging Apple smartphone, kicked off the blanket and got up.

“YAAAH! The plane, the plane…!”

Disheveled hair in hand, Camila plopped back onto the bed, screaming.

 

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