WeTried Translations x Flame Comics
Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 131: Tilles’s Autumn (2)
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* * *
The Krasilov diplomatic legation stood in the middle of Saint Matilene’s administrative district, among well-paved roads and streets full of affluent citizens.
A national emblem depicting a gray brown bear fluttered harshly in the wind. Unlike Tilles’s elegant buildings, the Krasilov legation rose like a fortress, its solid exterior distinctly Krasilov.
“Stop. Beyond this point is not Tilles territory.”
A guardsman holding a long spear snarled at Ivan and Pavel. They could hardly treat every visitor to the legation like this. Ivan silently deducted a point from their evaluation. Incidentally, he was the commander.
“What problem is there with a Krasilov citizen coming to Krasilov territory?”
“Do you have identification?”
“Take a look. And move that spear. You might get yourself killed if you’re careless.”
“...This is a warning. I had no intention of killing anyone in the first place...”
“You, I mean.”
Pavel snickered and caught the spearhead between his fingertips. The shaft spun half a turn, then somehow settled neatly in his hand.
The startled guardsman hurriedly reached for the gun at their waist, but Pavel clicked his tongue and stopped them.
The guardsman looked down at the identification in Pavel’s hand, then quietly bowed.
“Your training is a mess. To make such a spectacle while standing with your back to the national emblem. The future of our homeland is truly bleak!”
“My... apologies, Sir Pavel Sergeyevich Olov.”
“Surely the appointment notice was sent in advance.”
“...Yes. Please come in.”
“What a joke.”
Pavel had arrived a day before Ivan. He had spent that day contacting informants and preparing the outline of the operation.
That extra day was to provide enough of a margin in an era when information traveled more slowly than a personal messenger.
Pavel and Ivan were intelligence agents dispatched by the central government. Unless the diplomats were complete fools, they had to know that.
Krasilov was a civilized nation run under a strict administrative system. And administrative systems inevitably produced friction between departments.
The Foreign Intelligence Bureau belonged to the Counterintelligence Command, while diplomatic legations in foreign countries belonged to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Whenever their jurisdictions overlapped like this, there was bound to be a power struggle.
From the legation’s perspective, officials from another ministry might suddenly barge in, muddy things up under the banner of official business, or destroy carefully cultivated diplomatic relations before leaving. If that happened, it would be reported as a failure of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.
“Tch.”
Pavel scowled. This was why he had not wanted to work for the Foreign Intelligence Bureau. There were too many sneaky bastards.
“They’re picking a fight with central officials who received their mission directly from Her Highness? I’ll never like those Ministry of Foreign Affairs bastards.”
“They used to be under Alexander.”
“Then we should’ve uprooted them entirely.”
“Then the entire diplomatic network would have vanished.”
At Ivan’s indifferent response, Pavel slowly shook his head.
As Ivan had reflected before, until Crown Prince Alexander was expelled, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs had been the Crown Prince faction’s stronghold. They could purge the Crown Prince faction scattered throughout the country, but they could not deal with diplomats who had already been posted abroad.
Diplomacy did not simply mean negotiations between nations. If they purged every diplomat who had already established adequate networks in foreign countries, Krasilov would become isolated.
They had no choice but to keep even subordinates they could not trust. Fortunately, the diplomats abroad had left their families in the homeland, so they could not easily dream of treason.
In any case, the country was a complete mess. Like every other country in the world.
Ivan thought as he pushed open the heavy gates of the legation.
* * *
“I heard there was some trouble with the guards. I’m terribly sorry, Sir Pavel.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Pavel waved a hand as he took a sip of tea. Gregory Schmidt, the legation’s diplomatic consul, gave a slight bow.
Watching this, Ivan lifted his teacup at Pavel’s gesture.
No poison.
That was why field assignments were made in teams of two, so one person could first identify a danger and respond to it.
Perhaps unaware of this, Gregory continued with a wan smile.
“I was surprised to hear the capital would be sending someone so suddenly. More so because I was unfamiliar with you. Tilles is one of our key allies, so the Ministry of Foreign Affairs is usually careful in selecting whom it sends here.”
“I was selected with some care myself.”
“Ha ha, my apologies. I didn’t mean it that way.”
That was exactly what Gregory meant.
An official nobody had ever seen or heard of had appeared. Gregory did not know whether Pavel was a noble, or even a member of the nobility of the robe, and yet Pavel claimed to have been sent by the princess.
That meant Pavel reported directly to the princess. And anyone she could command would surely belong to the Counterintelligence Command.
So who are you, and what exactly have you come here to do?
With that meaning behind it, Gregory smiled pleasantly.
“A Tilles noble studying in our country has ‘gone missing.’ At first, I thought perhaps the child had gone drinking and passed out somewhere, as people that age do, but they still hadn’t appeared after several days.”
“Oh dear. And?”
“As it concerns the abduction of a noble, we cannot be certain whether it was the work of wicked men seeking ransom, or some scoundrels from another country trying to pin responsibility on us. We are investigating, but it has not been easy.”
Pavel tilted his teacup and took a drink. His green eyes gleamed sharply.
“Then before this grows worse, should we not inform the student’s family and request their assistance?”
“Will the student be all right?”
“Well, probably not.”
“We weren’t some gangster nation. Until recently, wasn’t it our policy never to take hostages under any circumstances?”
“That is a dangerous thing to say, Consul. Hostage? Does that not imply they will be returned?”
At Pavel’s answer, Gregory recoiled with a sickened expression.
The words reeked of blood.
They had abducted the student. And they intended to kill them. The student was not being held hostage. They would not be going home.
There was a blade in the implication. For a consul posted to a longtime allied nation, it was more than Gregory could bear.
Gregory anxiously set down the teacup and lowered their head.
“What do you want? I have spent over twenty years in service, planting human assets in this country, regardless of the capital’s policies. From this seat, I have been the face representing our homeland.”
“I would like to tell you that you’ve worked hard. I mean it.”
Gregory’s face twisted at Pavel’s indifferent answer.
At that moment, Ivan, who had been waiting quietly, spoke.
“You are not the only one who has served this country. Everyone here has done the same. We have served without expecting compensation. Did all those years pass for you alone? Did the last war sweep up only you?”
“You are...?”
“I am Colonel Ivan Petrovich Yermof. Commander of the Counterintelligence Command, and the officer in charge of this operation. Stop this pointless argument. What I need is the human assets you claim to have built, the material resources you can provide, and every intangible asset you have planted in this country.”
Gregory had not dared meet Ivan’s eyes, but at those words, Gregory snapped their head up.
“What exactly are you trying to do? Is our country preparing for war with Tilles?”
“As if.”
Ivan gave a short snort and leaned back against the sofa.
Tap. Tap. Tap. He drummed his index finger against the table, then addressed Gregory.
“We came to save this country, so you may call us reinforcements.”
“What does that...!”
“Enough. We did not come here to satisfy your curiosity. Gather every Counterintelligence Command agent, and arrange contact with the Count of Grandmartel.”
“The student who was supposedly ‘abducted’ was the Count of Grandmartel’s son?”
“Mm.”
“Mad... You’re mad! And you still say this will not start a war?”
“Of course not. We will find the culprit who abducted the Count’s son with our own hands. What need is there for a war?”
This was Krasilov diplomacy.
Ivan looked at the consul with the bearing of a reasonable diplomatic aide.
Gregory pressed at their brow and sighed.
“The Count of Grandmartel is... not in a position to come to Saint Matilene right now. If you wish to meet him, go to the count’s territory yourselves. If you return alive, I will arrange train tickets back to our country.”
“That will not be necessary, Consul.”
Ivan gave a short nod and rose from his seat.
“I have much else to do, so I’ll make arrangements for my own return in due time.”
“Lord...”
“Yes. May the Lord protect us all.”
At Ivan’s answer, Pavel suppressed a wheezing laugh, his face red as he rose as well.
He patted Gregory on the shoulder.
“Thank you for the warm welcome, Consul.”
This was the Counterintelligence Command’s way of speaking. The Counterintelligence Command was weakest when dealing with foreigners, and twice as strong when dealing with its own country’s nobles and powerful figures.
The Counterintelligence Command specialized in domestic intelligence rather than foreign intelligence, so it never lost a contest of wills against Krasilov nobles.
Trying to seize the initiative from agents dispatched by such an organization had been Gregory’s mistake in the first place.
After the two men left, Gregory broke into a cold sweat and collapsed onto the sofa.
“Should I defect...?”
Gregory probably could not. Gregory’s wife and children remained in the homeland.
After rubbing their face, Gregory muttered quietly.
“What a bunch of thugs...”
Footnotes:
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