Chapter 16

"Huh?"

Sally was momentarily speechless at the outrageous speculation. Could it be that Winston's friendly behavior in the torture room yesterday led to a misunderstanding?

"Uncle, there's no way I would do something like that with that dirty guy."

[Wasn't it an order from above?]

"Uncle, you know that such a mission wouldn't be given by my superiors, let alone my fiancé."

[...]

"Uncle."

[Have you been in contact with Jo?]

He suddenly asked if she had been in touch with her brother, who had left the comrades. To Sally, he was family, but to the comrades, he was a traitor. While she hesitated, unable to answer, Uncle gave her an incomprehensible instruction.

[Go to Jo. And never come back.]

She didn't know how the call ended. Sally put the receiver back and stared at the stain in the corner of the coffee table.

Was it because Uncle had become weaker mentally and physically after being tortured? Or had she made a mistake that made her ashamed to stand shoulder to shoulder with the comrades? To her, who had lived knowing only the revolution and the comrades, being told to leave and never return was a shock.

She was lost in thought, ruminating on Uncle's words, when the neighbors started banging on the wall, complaining about the loud radio next door, which startled her.

Sally spent the afternoon chatting with Nancy, cold coffee in front of her, while fragments of Uncle's words continued to swirl in her head.

When the conversation ran out of new topics, they even delved into childhood memories. Finally, the phone rang.

"It took you long enough."

[I'm sorry, but we have to put Chulsoo on hold.]

"Why? Is it dangerous?"

Sally burst out in frustration at the unexpected answer. He continued in a deliberately heavy tone, not trying to soothe her.

[Instead, you've been given a new mission. I believe you'll handle it well, as you always do.]

"What is it?"

[I hope you can listen calmly without getting angry. And don't forget that I love you.]

She listened silently to Jimmy's words, nervously twisting the cord of the phone and moistening her dry lips. Could this be a mission that requires her to risk her life?

"If it's a worthy cause, I'm prepared to give my life. So tell me."

[I want you to get close to him.]

Sally tilted her head in confusion. Get close? Was his instruction strange, or was it just her imagination?

"I don't understand. Aren't I already doing that?"

Her fiancé let out a long sigh and lowered his voice.

[He sees you as a woman, right?]

At that moment, the pencil in Sally's hand snapped in two.

A honey trap? The revolutionaries don't use such dirty tricks.

"Are you out of your mind?"

As she raised her voice, the sound of a chair being pushed back came from the kitchen. Nancy was coming over.

[This is a rare opportunity, you know. It will be a big help in stopping him. You'll be able to get important information more easily. And when he's no longer useful, it will be easier to deal with him.]

"That's ridiculous."

[Not to the point of sleeping with him.]

Sally wiped her face and burst into a hollow laugh.

"Then what? You mean I should do anything as long as I don't go that far?"

As she sneered into the phone, Nancy walked out of the kitchen. Sally turned her back to her worried friend, who was leaning against the door frame, and covered the phone with her hand.

[That's not what I mean. Try to manipulate him skillfully while avoiding him. If you do well, you might even be able to control him.]

"How am I supposed to avoid him? He's not a normal person. How can I control him? Are you talking about people like us?"

[We don't have time to argue. From now on, you won't need to send money. You'll need it.]

It meant that she wouldn't need to send money for cosmetics and clothes to seduce Winston, as she had been doing.

"What? I don't need it. Why have you changed so much? We've never used such dirty tactics before."

[You're too idealistic. Sometimes I doubt if you're really my lifelong comrade.]

"What do you mean?"

[What I'm saying is that I need to be sure that you'll understand me no matter what I tell you. Our cause is dirtier, more painful, and more humiliating than you think. Sometimes, painful sacrifices are necessary.]

As her fiancé's words continued, Sally's expression changed from moment to moment.

[Do you think this is an excessive sacrifice? Many people have lost their lives. I hope you won't spare yourself.]

"You're my fiancé... No, you know how serious I am about this. How can you say such things?"

[This is a difficult decision we've made. You said you wanted to be a close comrade like your parents. And don't forget, I love you.]

Jimmy knew exactly what words would affect his fiancée the most. As he played his decisive card, Sally bit her lip.

"I'll hang up. I need to go before the tram stops running."

It was a bit early for the tram to stop running, but Sally rushed out of the house as if fleeing, knowing Nancy would ask what was wrong.

She walked to the tram stop, stomping her feet on the innocent pavement as if to vent her anger. She stopped when she saw the department store where she had given money to the boy. After a moment of hesitation, she crossed the street and entered the post office.

The post office lobby, much larger than Hailwood's, was already lined with people waiting for their turn. The postal workers, busy as the closing time approached, didn't even glance at the new customer.

Sally put on a round pair of sunglasses and wrapped a black scarf tightly around her head and chin to cover her injuries before joining the line at the end.

After about 30 minutes, it was her turn. A worker with wire-rimmed glasses glanced up at her indifferently and asked, "How can I assist you?"

"I want to send a money transfer."

Sally took a wad of cash out of her bag. The worker raised an eyebrow at the amount and handed her a form and a pen to fill in the sender and recipient information. While the man counted the bills, Sally wrote quickly.

Sending money through someone other than Peter might be traceable, but in such a busy urban post office, identifying the sender would be difficult.

She finished the form and handed it to the worker. The name she had scribbled in a fit of anger was not Jimmy's alias but her brother's alias.

As she watched the worker's fingers fly over the typewriter, Jimmy's words from earlier echoed in her mind.

[From now on, you won't need to send money. You'll need it.]

Forget it. I don't need it.

In the end, the money she had extorted from Winston would neither be used for the headquarters' funds nor for Sally's operation.

Her unknown nephew would have a happy Easter. That was some consolation.

Still, she felt like wandering around. But without a gun, it was dangerous to wander the dark streets alone.

On the way back from Hailwood to the mansion, the April showers had soaked her hair and clothes, making them heavy and droopy. Could anything fit her mood better?

She dragged her bicycle through the servants' entrance to the mansion. The garden was dimly lit by scattered lights as the sun set. She walked towards the gloomy annex, with the main building's bright lights behind her.

When she entered the annex, Winston's car was not there. She put the bicycle in the shed in the backyard and looked up, but the lights in the study and bedroom were off.

Hasn't he come back yet?

The revolver that was still "confiscated" in the study drawer briefly crossed her mind. But she quickly dismissed the thought.

He always locks the drawer. He wouldn't forget today. It was a trap, left open on purpose for her to steal.

Sally sighed deeply as she climbed the stairs to the attic.

She couldn't get a new gun. No matter where she hid it, Winston's dirty hands would find it.

What excuse will he use to call me out tonight, and what dirty things will he do?

Rescue operation, bomb installation, raid on the royal villa.

She had taken on all sorts of dangerous missions, but this was the first time she wanted to run away.

'Damn Jimmy. Are you still my fiancé?'

But she had also wished to live as comrades like her parents.

'But this is really too much, isn't it?'

She stopped in front of the maid's room, lost in thought. A shopping bag from the department store she had visited today was hanging on the doorknob.

Could Winston be here?