Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 92 Difficult to Bear
The scenery outside the car window remained unchanged.

The dry grass, the railway tracks, and a few still-faded propaganda slogans look as if they were pulled from some old film reels and pasted one after another along the roadside.

Alexei sat in the passenger seat, his seatbelt unfastened, his body sunk into the seat.

He had several documents spread out in his hand, which he had brought from the villa that Igor had set up the previous night.

I flipped through it at least three times, but each time I could only catch a few repeated keywords.

"Scheduling path offset"

"Forwarding without registration"

"Change without explanation"

damn it.

This is what and what.

Staring at them, Alexei had no thoughts in his mind, only restlessness.

He didn't want to deal with the matter, nor did he want to know where the supplies had gone.

He just wanted to get this over with quickly.

The driver was the same one who drove Kherson that day.

He was around fifty years old, had an old scar on his face, and hummed an off-key tune the whole way.

Zhou Yi sat in the back row, his hands clasped together, his expression unreadable.

Alexei glanced at him discreetly through the rearview mirror.

Even just sitting in the same car makes me feel uncomfortable.

"What time will we arrive?" he asked the driver.

"There are still more than 20 kilometers to go, I estimate it will take at most half an hour."

Alexei sighed, leaned back in his seat, and glanced down at the damned documents.

After a few seconds of thought, he spoke again, his tone tentative: "Have you done this kind of thing before?"

The driver didn't even look at him, lit a cigarette, and said, "Don't ask me. Your uncle said this is your own business."

The car fell silent.

Alexei gave a self-deprecating laugh and didn't reply.

He rolled up the document and tapped it on his knee, as if he had nowhere else to exert force.

After hesitating for a while, Alexei finally turned to Zhou Yi and asked, "What do you think?"

Zhou Yi did not answer.

He took a cigarette out of his pocket, lit it, took a drag, and tilted his head back to exhale the smoke.

"I mean--"

Alexei was somewhat embarrassed, but he forced himself to explain: "This man, Lieutenant Colonel Lavrentiev, has only been here for a little over a year."

“He used to work in the Air Force logistics department, so theoretically he shouldn’t have any authority over these supplies.”

"But those goods just disappeared inexplicably."

Zhou Yi remained silent.

"I'm not asking you for advice."

Alexei quickly added, "But... I don't really understand the ways things work here, and I don't want to cause any bloodshed or violence."

The driver couldn't help but laugh.

Immediately afterwards, he glanced down at the fuel gauge, shifted gears, and barely managed to regain his usual composure.

Zhou Yi stared out the window for a while before turning his gaze back.

"What do you want to do?" he asked casually after taking another drag of his cigarette.

Alexei scratched his head: "I want to see him first, Lavrentiev."

“I know what he did, and I also know who might be hiding behind him.”

"However, it would be better if we could talk face to face."

He paused for a moment, as if rehearsing his words in his mind, "Maybe he can understand the seriousness of this matter."

"You know what I mean?"

Alexei looked at Zhou Yi and added, "Just make things clear."

"Tell him not to touch what he shouldn't touch again."

"If he's still sensible, he'll hand over the person himself, apply for a transfer, and that'll be the end of it."

This time, even Zhou Yi couldn't help but laugh.

Alexei's face stiffened. "You all think this is ridiculous, right?"

He tried to respond to the other person's silence, but only appeared more embarrassed.

Zhou Yi stubbed out his cigarette and rolled down the car window to ventilate the car.

"Of course not, that's your decision. I'm only responsible for safety."

The driver then spoke up: "He's in charge of safety, I'm in charge of driving. As for the rest, it's up to you to make the decisions."

Alexei nodded, gathered the documents together, and stuffed them back into his bag.

He knew in his heart that no one could help him on this journey.

Of course, he doesn't necessarily need someone to help him.

He just hoped that this wouldn't be too dirty or take too long, and that he could get home before New Year's Eve.

“I’ll see him first,” Alexei muttered to himself. “I’ll see him once first, and then we’ll talk about the rest.”

The stove wasn't even hot yet, and the room was as cold as an ice cave.

Ivan sat at the wooden table, counting the stack of banknotes one by one.

Oksana stood behind him, without saying a word.

She had changed out of her nurse's uniform and was wearing a coarse cloth sweater with a cotton-padded coat over it.

"Is that all?" Oksana finally spoke, her voice hoarse.

Ivan nodded: "They only gave 10%."

"Wasn't it supposed to be $20,000?"

“They said this was a ‘trial collaboration’ and not worth that much compensation.”

Oksana frowned, walked to the table, and slowly sat down, her movements somewhat stiff.

"What else did he say?"

"He said that if they wanted to get the full amount, they would have to be transferred to another train."

"This time, it's not as simple as changing a ticket along the way; we need to leave a gap in the dispatch system."

"fifteen minutes."

“Fifteen minutes?” Oksana repeated, stunned.

"Yes, fifteen minutes is enough time for them to make an entire truckload of goods disappear without being recorded."

Ivan gave a sarcastic smirk.

Which officer?

"Lavrentiev didn't show up; instead, he sent a young man who called himself a second lieutenant."

He said, "Well done, Comrade Ivan. I never expected you to be more sensible as you get older."

Oksana bit her lip, a complex emotion flashing in her eyes. "He's... already trying to control you, isn't he?"

“They all like to do this,” Ivan said quietly, looking at the stove. “First they make you bow your head, then they force you to kneel.”

For a moment, the only sound in the room was the crackling of burning coal.

The fire was weak and emitted a choking black smoke, casting flickering light on the two people's faces.

Oksana lowered her head, and after a long while, she whispered, "I'm sorry, Dad, maybe I shouldn't have done it in the first place."

Ivan didn't reply immediately. He simply rearranged the stack of banknotes, carefully tied them together with a rubber band, and put them in the drawer.

“Don’t say sorry,” he said. “You are my daughter.”

“If I can’t even save your child, then I’ve wasted my life as a father.”

Upon hearing this, Oksana's nose tingled and tears streamed down her face again.

Ivan stood up, poured her a glass of water, and sighed.

A sliver of red light shone through the crack in the iron furnace door, casting a shadow on the mottled wall.

“Have a drink,” he said. “It’s dry inside.”

Oksana gripped the cup tightly, her knuckles turning slightly white. "Dad, you didn't have to do this. It's my fault. I shouldn't have trusted them."

Ivan shook his head and sat back down in his chair. "It's not your fault. You have a child; you have no other choice."

"Or to put it more accurately, we had no choice."

"We have no choice."

"there has never been."

(End of this chapter)