第10章 (4-2)

Soviet offered no comment, his gaze fixed on the scenery rushing past—wide highways, dense traffic, towering skyscrapers with glass facades, huge billboards flashing dazzling colors. It was a world brimming with vitality, wealth, and a kind of… chaotic flamboyance, utterly different from the order, gravitas, and collective spirit he was accustomed to.

The car eventually wound its way to a modern, ocean-front mansion. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed an endless vista of blue sea, with white sand beaches gleaming blindingly under the sun. The interior was minimalist and opulent, smart home systems operating silently. It felt like a different universe compared to the historic, utilitarian apartment in Moscow.

"Welcome to my 'safe house'," America said with a grin, tossing his jacket onto an expensive-looking sofa. "Completely private, guaranteed no CIA or KGB ears." He walked to the open-plan kitchen's refrigerator, pulled out two bottles of ice-cold beer, and handed one to Soviet.

Soviet took it but didn't open it. His eyes were drawn to the people outside—playing, sunbathing, dressed in bikinis and board shorts.

America followed his gaze and laughed. "Relax, Sov. Nobody knows you here, and nobody cares who you are. Just forget about the -isms, the blocs, the struggle for a while." He leaned in, pressing the cold beer bottle lightly against Soviet's cheek. "Here, you're just my 'guest'."

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