Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 80 Honest People Aren't Honest
The heating in the room was on full blast, but Mikhail still felt cold, a chill seeping into his bones.

He sat at his desk, his back slightly hunched, his hands clasped on his knees, and didn't move for a full ten minutes.

It felt as if an invisible stone was pressing on my chest.

With each breath, the stone sank a little lower, pressing down on him and making it hard for him to breathe.

Mikhail regretted it.

We shouldn't have made the decision so quickly.

We shouldn't have handed over that copy of the telegram so quickly.

Igor did not fall; instead, he became stronger.

They reacted swiftly and acted ruthlessly, regaining control of the situation almost in the blink of an eye.

Fear, after that "warning," became the most effective command.

And he, Mikhail Andreyevich Smirnov, became a half-baked traitor.

After the regret, there was an even stronger resentment.

He resented Igor.

She resented his lack of trust and his resentment that he never revealed key steps beforehand and kept the plan a closely guarded secret.

Despite working together for so many years, I still treat him like an outsider, like a tool.

Say nothing, leave nothing behind, and kick people into the mud.

If only I had known sooner... If only I had known sooner.

damn it.

He muttered a curse under his breath, his nails digging into his palms.

We can't just wait like this; we have to force Boris to take action immediately.

Otherwise, you might be the one who gets into trouble the next second.

Amidst a surging mix of emotions, Mikhail picked up the satellite phone on the table and pressed the dial button.

The signal flickered, one bar, two bars, three bars; the radio waves crawled slowly, like a snake about to be hanged.

Mikhail held his breath.

Half a minute later, the call was connected.

"Your boss really doesn't tell you anything, does he?"

A teasing greeting came from the other end.

But to Mikhail, it sounded more like a sarcastic remark.

"Boris, you promised me you'd take action within seven days."

"The time has come, what the hell are you and your allies doing?"

“Hey, Misha, calm down.” Boris even seemed to chuckle. “You know, the situation has changed.”

“We need to reassess, and the plan will naturally have to be postponed. But relax, what’s meant to happen will happen.”

"You fucking have the nerve to tell me to relax?"

Upon hearing this, Mikhail could no longer suppress his anger, exclaiming, "I'm risking my life to do things for you!"

"Given the current situation, I have no doubt that he can find out what I did at any time."

"What awaits me? Fuck, death is the best ending."

"And you, sitting there comfortably watching the show? Fuck you, Boris!"

Mikhail had just finished shouting when he suddenly realized that his voice was too loud.

There was a knock at the door immediately. "Misha? What's wrong? Are you alright?"

It was his wife, her voice tinged with unease.

Immediately afterwards, the woman pushed open the door and walked in.

Seeing this, Mikhail had no choice but to close his eyes, take a deep breath, compose himself, and force a smile:
"It's nothing, honey, it's just work."

Seeing his pale face, his wife felt a surge of worry: "Would you like me to make some tea? Or get you something to eat?"

“No need, really, not now. Please leave first, okay?” Mikhail tried to be as gentle as possible.

The woman hesitated for a moment, then nodded and left.

After the door closed, Mikhail brought the phone to his ear, regaining a little composure: "Putting everything else aside, I need a specific time."

“I’m sorry,” Boris replied, “even if I wanted to, I couldn’t give you a specific time. We’d have to wait until the situation becomes clearer.”

“You promised me that you would start the operation as soon as I handed over the intelligence.” “It’s a deal.”

"You fucking want to back out now?"

“I advise you to take back those words, Mikhail.” Boris paused for a moment, his tone turning cold: “You are the one begging me, not the other way around.”

There was a brief silence.

damn it.

Mikhail realized that there was no way things could turn around.

Even if you're unwilling, you have to take that step—

Reveal your biggest trump card.

“I have a few things, big enough, that will allow you to give me a precise time to act right now.”

Boris replied noncommittally, "Go ahead."

"I have three strategic nuclear warheads, RV-5 type, which were prepared for the Tu-95 bomber when they were put into service, and they are not registered with any department."

There was an instant silence on the other end of the line.

It fell into complete stillness.

After about ten seconds, a curse was heard:
"Have you been driven mad? Do you know what the hell you're saying?"

"of course I know."

"Do you have it? Or does Igor have it?"

"To be precise, it's Igor, but does it make a difference?"

"He didn't even tell you a counterattack plan, why would he give you something like this?"

“He didn’t tell me; I discovered it by chance.” Mikhail regained his composure completely. “A year and a half ago, it was due to an accident, and no one knew about it.”

"So, you don't really 'own' them."

“I know the exact location, I know who is guarding it, and I know how you should take it down.”

"I have all the information you need."

There was another long silence on the other end, followed by a cold laugh.

"Even if it's true, what would you ask me to do with them? Sell them? I'm not crazy, and I don't want to be wanted by those Security Council countries."

"Stop playing dumb." Mikhail's attitude grew increasingly forceful: "You don't even need to sell yourself; just hand it over to your master to collect a reward—"

"—Israelites, am I right?"

Upon hearing this, Boris was startled and quickly denied it, saying, "This is not something you should be talking nonsense about."

"Stop playing dumb, Boris. It's not like nobody knows your mother's maiden name is Zuckerman."

Mikhail scoffed.

"Those three weapons are no ordinary items."

"Two-stage fusion structure, X-ray symmetrical compression ignition."

"Didn't your good master always want it to replace the single-stage enhanced nuclear device?"
"Unfortunately, the Americans have not budged yet."

Boris remained silent, feigning death, neither refuting nor admitting anything.

Mikhail seemed unconcerned and continued:
“I can give you their locations, but I need you to do two things for me, Boris Ivanovich Sergeyev.”

This time, Boris finally spoke, his voice very serious: "Tell me."

"First, I need your guarantee that by the end of this month, a decapitation strike will be carried out to completely eliminate Igor."

"Secondly, after his death, I want all of his estate."

"But don't worry, we can cooperate later to form an alliance and monopolize the supply market."

The person on the other end of the phone went silent again.

Mikhail leaned back in his chair, waiting expressionlessly.

He was no longer anxious, nor was he afraid.

Because he knew that the last chips had been laid out on the table.

Behind that lies the realm of God.

Five minutes later, Boris's voice came through:
Give me some decent evidence.

"Afterwards, I will have a serious talk with my collaborator."

(End of this chapter)