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CH516 | GSI
🕑 Added 2025-10-02 12:56:00 +0000 UTCA few days later, Moscow, Russia.
Across the river, shrouded in heavy darkness, stood the rugged silhouette of the Russian Federation government building. At a nearby pier, a large black Mercedes sedan was parked.
It was late at night. With not a single streetlamp lit, the desolate outdoor parking lot felt eerily empty, and the riverside road beyond was nearly devoid of traffic.
Inside the sedan, engine off, Seok-won sat alone in the back seat. With the window slightly lowered, he smoked a cigarette.
The glowing tip of the cigarette briefly illuminated his face in the shadows. A sharp jawline, a sculpted nose, and deep, steady eyes—his expression remained as calm and unmoving as a still lake.
By the time the cigarette between his fingers had burned halfway down, Assistant Manager Han Ji-sung, who had been waiting outside with his bodyguard, Baucus, stepped closer. Tapping lightly on the window, he spoke quietly.
“They’ve arrived.”
Seok-won lifted his gaze toward the front windshield.
From the entrance, a pair of headlights cut through the darkness as another vehicle entered the lot.
Taking one last deep drag, he exhaled slowly before flicking the cigarette out the window. The tiny ember traced a short arc through the air before hitting the ground, just as another Mercedes sedan pulled up beside them, stopping a slight distance away.
When its headlights turned off, darkness once again wrapped around them. From the driver’s seat emerged a large, broad-shouldered man who cast a quick glance in their direction before opening the rear door.
A middle-aged man with a cold, austere presence stepped out—it was none other than Vladimir Putin, Director of the Russian Federal Security Service.
Striding forward without hesitation, Putin approached Seok-won’s car and slipped into the back seat.
As the door shut, Seok-won remained comfortably seated in the plush leather chair and was the first to extend his hand.
“It’s been a while.”
“Indeed.”
Putin shook his hand firmly, responding in fluent English befitting a former KGB operative.
Fixing Seok-won with a sharp gaze, he spoke.
“I hear you struck quite an interesting deal with the President at the Kremlin today.”
Seok-won, showing little surprise, answered calmly.
“To think you’ve already grasped the private conversation I had with President Ivanov just hours ago… Your intelligence network is as formidable as ever.”
“What on earth are you planning, trying to take possession of the Severstal?”
Seok-won did not avert his eyes from Putin’s piercing stare, meeting it head-on.
“Unfortunately, though Russia has weathered its greatest crisis, the economy has yet to recover. Debt repayment is still difficult. I intend to accept matured government bonds in kind instead of in cash.”
“I fail to see why Eldorado Fund—a mere investment company—would need an Akula-class strategic nuclear submarine.”
The Severstal was the sixth vessel of Project 941, the Akula-class heavy strategic nuclear submarine—its Russian name meaning “shark.”
Better known by its NATO codename Typhoon, it was the largest submarine ever built, displacing a staggering 48,000 tons underwater and armed with twenty SLBMs.
Designed to lurk silently beneath the thick ice of the Arctic, it could suddenly surface in a crisis and unleash nuclear missiles. At the height of the Cold War, it was the Russian strategic weapon that America feared most.
Once, it had terrified the United States… but before Russia’s crippling financial collapse—the very one that forced a moratorium on its debts—even such a fearsome weapon was powerless.
Between 1976 and 1986, six Typhoons were constructed and deployed. But after the Soviet Union’s collapse, Russia’s economic turmoil forced the cancellation of follow-up vessels.
Even those that had entered service could no longer be properly operated; abandoned by shrinking defense budgets, they sat rusting at port.
Among those neglected giants, the TK-20 Severstal, launched in 1989 and the youngest of the fleet, became the subject of Seok-won’s proposal: to take it as payment in kind for sixty million dollars’ worth of matured Russian government bonds. President Ivanov had agreed.
“Wouldn’t it be a shame,” Seok-won continued, “to leave such a powerful submarine—nicknamed Typhoon—chained idly to a pier?”
“…”
“I intend to bring it back to Korea, restore it, scrub away the rust, and refit it for service in the Korean Navy.”
“The Akula-class is indeed a formidable nuclear submarine,” Putin said slowly, “but without the R-39 SLBMs, surely you realize it’s nothing more than an oversized chunk of steel roaming the depths.”
Putin’s eyes flashed with a cold intensity as he asked,
“Surely the President wouldn’t have handed over the SLBMs as well, would he?”
The R-39 SLBM was a terrifying weapon: a submarine-launched ballistic missile with a maximum range of about 8,300 km and the capacity to carry up to ten 200-kiloton warheads (multiple independently targetable reentry vehicles)—an immense destructive power.
“Of course not,” Seok-won said with a light laugh.
“After taking a nuclear submarine, would someone hand over the missiles as well?” he added, answering Putin’s suspicion with a casual tone.
Seok-won continued with measured confidence, “There’s a clear difference between a nuclear-tipped missile capable of turning a city of millions into ashes in an instant and a submarine that simply uses nuclear power as its propulsion. They are not the same thing.”
The real potency of ballistic missiles derives from the platform that can secretly hide from surveillance—nuclear submarines that can suddenly rise and launch dozens of SLBMs.
Putin didn’t press that point further, but asked again, “Then why take a strategic nuclear submarine if it won’t come with nuclear missiles?”
His voice was edged as if interrogating, but Seok-won showed no sign of flinching and answered truthfully.
“We plan to convert it from an SLBM platform into a cruise-missile launch platform.”
“A cruise-missile launch platform….” Putin repeated slowly.
“If we do that,” Seok-won explained, “selling the Severstal will carry no strategic burden for Russia.”
Putin still looked doubtful. “Refitting and operating the Severstal will require enormous funds. Why go to such lengths?”
“You must be aware that North Korea’s repeated nuclear tests have increased instability on the peninsula,” Seok-won said.
Putin nodded.
“We cannot develop nuclear bombs in response to North Korea. At the very least, by acquiring a nuclear submarine—even without ballistic missiles—and converting it, we can secure a minimum level of second-strike capability to deter North Korea from recklessly using nuclear weapons. That would keep us safer.”
Putin smiled faintly. “It seems you’re taking on duties the government should be handling. That’s quite patriotic of you.”
Putin spoke with a mocking edge to his tone.
But Seok-won, knowing full well what he meant, chose to ignore the jab, keeping his expression calm and composed.
“If I didn’t live in Korea, perhaps I wouldn’t care. But I live there with my family. I simply don’t want to spend my life anxiously wondering when a nuclear bomb might fall.”
“I recall that Korea signed an agreement with the United States restricting nuclear use. Wouldn’t operating a nuclear submarine be a violation of that treaty?”
“As I said earlier, it’s not for offensive purposes—only propulsion. That makes it permissible. Besides, I already obtained prior approval from the White House.”
Indeed, even if Seok-won had come up with the idea after hearing of President Ivanov’s poor health, without U.S. approval he never would have dared attempt to acquire a Typhoon-class nuclear submarine.
Putin frowned, his displeasure evident.
“While you’re busy converting it into a cruise-missile platform, the Americans will no doubt examine every inch of the Severstal’s hull. They’ll get a full picture of our nuclear submarine technology.”
Seok-won gave no reply.
In truth, that was precisely the decisive reason the U.S. government allowed the Korean Navy to operate a nuclear submarine. Even after the Cold War, it was rare to gain access to one of Russia’s most advanced strategic submarines. To strip it down bolt by bolt and assess the extent of Russia’s nuclear capability and technological strength—that was an opportunity far too valuable for the Americans to pass up.
“No matter how much of an alcoholic President Ivanov may be, he couldn’t possibly have overlooked that,” Putin muttered. “If he still agreed to hand over the Severstal, then there must have been a hidden deal.”
And indeed, Putin was right. Beyond transferring sixty million dollars in matured bonds, Seok-won had secretly promised Ivanov an additional ten million in cash.
Exploiting Ivanov’s failing health, Seok-won had dangled the sweet proposal of a “final retirement bonus” before the President, who was no longer capable of holding on to his office.
When Seok-won stayed silent, Putin took it as confirmation, clicking his tongue with a look of disdain.
“Well, then. Why did you ask to see me today?”
“After meeting President Ivanov in person, I could see that the rumors were true—his health has deteriorated badly.”
Seeing Putin’s expression harden, Seok-won continued.
“When the throne is vacated, a bloody struggle for power is inevitable.”
“…”
“And if that is the case, I would prefer to see my wager pay off—with you, Putin, as the new master of the Kremlin. I’ve come to offer you a little help.”
“What sort of help are you proposing?”
Seok-won knew well enough that Putin would not be unaware of his ambitions, so Putin did not bother to hide his true intentions.
“In any battle, the first rule is to secure a strong war chest. I’ve brought twenty million dollars in cash to start with.”
Putin’s eyes widened in surprise before he quickly schooled his expression.
It was only for the briefest of moments, but Seok-won didn’t miss it. Inwardly, he smiled as he spoke.
“If it’s not enough, just say the word. I can always provide more.”
Putin stared at him silently for a long while before finally asking in a heavy voice,
“Why are you helping me to this extent?”
“As I told you before, I believe you, Putin, have both the ambition and the capability not to remain where you are, but to rise to a higher seat of power.”
Seok-won’s eyes gleamed with a predatory sharpness, like a raptor’s. He grinned.
“And once you do, my investment will yield a very handsome return, won’t it?”
By openly admitting he expected privileges and rewards once Putin seized power, Seok-won ironically eased some of the man’s suspicions. If each stood to gain something tangible, there could hardly be a better partner in such a deal.
“I already had plenty of places where money was needed. I’ll put it to good use,” Putin said.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Seok-won replied.
After a few more words, Putin opened the door and returned to the black Mercedes he had arrived in.
At Seok-won’s signal, Han Ji-sung and the bodyguard Baucus retrieved three large travel cases from the trunk and loaded them into Putin’s car.
Inside each case were tightly packed bundles of hundred-dollar bills.
Moments later, Putin’s Mercedes sedan slid smoothly out of the parking lot, headlights cutting through the dark.
Seok-won watched it go, then pulled a cigarette from his pocket and placed it between his lips.
Flicking his lighter, he lit the tip himself, drawing in the acrid smoke deeply before slowly exhaling. His voice came out in a murmur.
“Soon, a storm of blood will sweep through Moscow.”
Power, after all, always blossomed most brilliantly in pools of blood.
The first to bleed would be the so-called Ivanov Family—the politicians and oligarchs bound to the current President.
They had dismissed Putin as nothing more than a lucky novice who had stumbled from the intelligence service into politics. Soon they would be stripped of everything and cast into ruin.
Thinking of the inevitable downfall awaiting the Ivanov Family and their oligarch allies, Seok-won spoke quietly to himself.
“Things are about to get very interesting.”
TL/n -
The Project 941 Akula, known to NATO as the Typhoon-class, is the largest class of nuclear-powered submarines ever built. These massive boats were a centerpiece of the Soviet Union’s Cold War nuclear deterrent.
The R-39 (NATO reporting name: SS-N-20 Sturgeon) was a Soviet/Russian submarine-launched ballistic missile (SLBM) designed during the Cold War. It was one of the largest SLBMs ever built.
