Chapter 28

Campbell sat at his desk, occasionally glancing sideways at his superior by the window. It had been a week since Captain Winston started working in the domestic intelligence office of the Western Command instead of his separate office.

Working in an office rather than a residence was the norm, but for Captain Winston, it was abnormal. His superiors had turned a blind eye to his unconventional working style, which could be considered a security breach, due to his position and achievements.

But why had he suddenly started working in the office recently? Could it be related to the fact that the maid in the separate house was about to leave?

Campbell laughed bitterly at his own absurd imagination. There was no way someone who could so casually break regulations would be afraid of a maid who was less than half his size.

"Campbell."

Campbell, who had been chuckling, flinched.

"Yes, sir."

Straightening his back, he looked at the captain, who had only raised his gaze from the documents on his desk. His eyes were sharply focused, sending a chill down Campbell's spine.

The moment Captain Winston pointed with his index finger, Campbell sprang up from his seat as if he had a spring in his buttocks and approached.

"What is it, sir?"

On the desk lay the stack of reports he had submitted that morning, the results of his investigation into the domestic intelligence office and the personnel assigned to Captain Winston's separate house. He had thought it was just a baseless suspicion, but Captain Winston had separated three files and pressed them with his index finger.

"These three, we need to interrogate them."

He immediately lowered his voice and added,

"Without the command knowing, discreetly."

***

Once today is over, this mission will be complete.

"Come back safely."

As Sally pushed the vacuum cleaner down the corridor of the separate house, she recalled Jimmy's voice from a few days ago and smiled. He seemed disappointed that the mission had been cut short but didn't scold her. He even added that he missed her. The moment of disappointment melted away.

'Tomorrow, I'll see Jimmy after a long time.'

It had been over a year since she infiltrated the Winston estate and hadn't returned home.

Sally sighed as she pushed the vacuum cleaner toward the entrance of the separate house. The tip of a black shoe appeared at the edge of her field of vision, and she knew the carpet she had just cleaned would soon be dirty again.

"Hey, go outside and—"

As she was about to scold the person for shaking their feet on the mat by the stairs, Sally's face stiffened when she looked up. Captain Winston was walking in with Campbell and several other soldiers assigned to the separate house.

"Hello."

Sally pressed herself against the wall and nodded. When Winston stopped in front of her, the others behind him also stopped.

She met Fred's eyes. He gave her a faint smile, but his drooping eyebrows clearly showed his disappointment.

He was very disappointed when she told him she was leaving.

"Now I don't know who to rely on."

"You still have Peter and Nancy. You'll do fine."

Fred pouted and kicked the grass in the garden with the toe of his boot before asking,

"Are you going to marry the Commander-in-Chief when you return?"

He was talking about Jimmy. Sally shrugged and smiled ambiguously.

"I don't know. It doesn't seem like the right time yet."

"If it weren't for that dirty pig of a monarchy, you could have worked here with me for a long time."

The rumor that Winston had tried to assault a maid had already spread among the soldiers assigned to the separate house. Fred, who clenched his teeth at the rumor, didn't know that Sally's near-encounter was also due to Jimmy's orders.

"I'll definitely take revenge for you."

Sally placed her hand on his tightly clenched fist, which was bulging with veins, and dissuaded him.

"Don't do that. Just focus on your mission. Don't draw Winston's attention. I failed, but I did it well."

A bitter smile spread across Sally's face.

"And someday, it would be nice if you could bring Winston down as a wedding gift."

Recalling their conversation a few days ago, Sally turned her gaze from Fred to Winston, who was still standing in the middle of the corridor, gesturing to his subordinates.

"Go to the office first."

As soon as the order was given, the soldiers passed by the two of them and climbed the stairs. Only Fred kept looking back at Sally with a worried expression.

"What is it?"

She asked Winston coldly. He didn't answer but took off his black cap. As he ran his hand through his cold-colored blond hair, he winced.

"Sally, I'll never forget you. You're the first woman to almost crush my head. Isn't that romantic?"

He was deliberately rubbing salt in the wound to make her feel guilty. Sally mimicked his twisted smile and asked,

"Should I crush the other side too?"

Winston laughed to himself, put his cap back on, and crossed his arms tightly.

"You don't need to be so hostile. I just need you to do something for me."

"What is it?"

"The torture room. We might need it, so stop cleaning and prepare it first."

"Yes."

Sally answered promptly and swallowed hard. Who had been caught? It was worrying that a new 'guest' would arrive the day before they were to withdraw. She was concerned whether Fred could handle her share of the work.

Winston immediately turned and headed for the stairs. As she unplugged the vacuum cleaner and sighed, he suddenly turned back.

"Too bad. Honestly, none of my subordinates have done as well as you."

"That's true. How did it come to this?"

She mocked him with an exaggerated tone, and Winston raised one corner of his mouth in a bitter smile. It was a surprisingly wistful expression for such a despicable man. Sally glared at Winston, who turned and headed for the office, and then went downstairs.

***

The atmosphere is tense.

Fred sat upright in a chair in the corridor outside the office, glancing around. A soldier stood at each end of the corridor, as if guarding to prevent anyone from escaping.

Two hours ago, Lieutenant Campbell had called three of the soldiers, including Fred, and brought them here without any particular thought. At the separate house, the lieutenant had brought four more soldiers.

'Until then, I thought we were just moving some heavy furniture...'

But Campbell had taken two of them into the office and placed the other two in the corridor. Fred and the other two were seated in a row on chairs in the corridor.

After Captain Winston entered the office, he called them in one by one. Now only Fred was left.

'What did I do wrong? Could my cover have been blown? But I didn't do anything.'

Cold sweat gathered in his fists on his knees. Just as he was about to wipe his sweaty hands on his pants, the office door burst open.

The second soldier who had gone in came out, his face pale. What had happened in there?

"Private First Class Fred Smith."

As he watched the soldier leave in a hurry, Campbell called him from behind the door.

"Yes, yes!"

Fred, trying to calm his rapid breathing, dragged his trembling legs into the office.

But the atmosphere inside the office was surprisingly warm and friendly, contrary to his tense expectations. Cheerful jazz music played from the radio, and two soldiers who had been brought in by Campbell were playing chess at a table in front of the bookshelf.

Campbell closed the door behind him and immediately went to sit on the sofa next to Captain Winston.

The captain was lounging comfortably with his legs crossed, a half-smoked cigar in one hand and a crystal glass of whiskey, filled to about a finger's width, in the other.

"Ah, Private Smith."

Winston smiled at Fred, who stood stiffly by the door. He seemed relaxed, perhaps from the alcohol, unlike his recent dangerous and explosive demeanor.

"Yes, sir."

"Sit down."

He pointed to a chair facing the sofa with the end of his cigar. Fred, still tense, moved his stiff legs and approached. As he sat down and swallowed hard, Winston and Campbell filled each other's whiskey glasses and chatted idly.

Finally, Winston turned his gaze to Fred and stared at him silently. His eyes were still softly curved, but his gaze was sharp. Was it because of the icy blue color?

"Sir... Captain."

Winston raised an eyebrow, urging him to continue. Despite the seemingly generous smile on his lips, Fred couldn't help but ask.

"Did I do something wrong?"

Winston, who had been sipping from his crystal glass, chuckled. As Fred tensed even more and straightened his back, Winston put down his glass and slowly shook his head.

"No, you didn't."

"Oh..."

"Why? Is there something on your mind?"

"No, no."

Winston raised the corner of his mouth and tilted the whiskey bottle toward the empty glass in front of Fred.