WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 158: A Bridge Too Far (6)

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Orca Black was the CIA’s San Francisco branch. By rights, Nathan Chadwick should have been called the branch chief. Instead, he insisted on the vague title of team leader.

“It’s an effort toward harmony, Lieutenant. Special forces personnel like Delta Force and the Navy SEALs don’t care much for Intelligence Agency people. We brought it on ourselves, so what can we do?”

“We have to make ourselves look good,” Chadwick said, wearing a foolish smile.

As he spoke, he kept clicking a button. It was a wired remote control, and the other end led to an unidentified box. The box rattled every time he pressed the button. A muffled sound came from inside. Gyeoul thought he knew what was in it.

This happened on the first night of April.

Ahead of the Tan Guosheng escort mission, Gyeoul had gone to bed early to keep himself in peak condition. But Time Acceleration was soon broken. Chadwick called for the boy officer. When they met in the control room, the team leader said he had a favor to ask. He led Gyeoul to the Black Site Deck.

“What do you mean, you brought it on yourselves?”

At Gyeoul’s question, Chadwick held the button down and answered.

“Sending people on wild goose chases with bad intelligence can’t be helped. We aren’t gods, after all. But some of our less mature personnel behaved with quite a bit of arrogance. Even if it was only some of them, in the end, they still represented the CIA as a whole. We took a lot of criticism after the tragedy in Libya.”

Then he laughed.

He added an explanation. By the tragedy in Libya, he meant the attack on the U.S. embassy in 2012. Gyeoul had heard something about it in passing. Something about the Central Intelligence Agency’s inadequate response making the situation worse.

“Lieutenant, have you heard of GRS?”

“Only heard of them.”

GRS was one of the CIA’s two major armed groups, along with SAD.

“We treated them as expendable. Whether the missions were official or unofficial. But those men were veterans who had survived hell in every kind of special forces unit. Naturally, their juniors’ opinion of us worsened. You could only call it our own fault.”

Click, click. Even now, the button sounded like he was pressing it as a joke. Gyeoul frowned.

“Does Supervisor Gibson know what happens here?”

“Yes, well. This much is necessary for the operation, wouldn’t you say?”

The team leader, smiling pleasantly, did not look like an evil man. But the person inside the box would have a very different opinion. Assuming they were in any state to be asked.

The CIA San Francisco operations headquarters, commonly called the "Pequod," had many secret spaces. Even Joanna Gibson, an FBI supervisor, could not walk every deck. She was allowed only into areas directly connected to Operation Fair Strike, the operation to pursue Changcheng 9.

So Gyeoul’s question was natural.

‘Black Site Deck, huh...’

From what he had learned through repeated apocalypses, black sites were secret places where the Central Intelligence Agency used “Enhanced interrogation techniques.” He had heard that such places had existed even on American soil. In other words, they had tortured their own citizens.

He had expected there would be one here too. But it was hard to guess why Chadwick had brought him here.

“What is this favor you wanted to ask of me? I don’t want to go into the mission carrying fatigue.”

At Gyeoul’s words, the team leader looked surprised.

“Oh, hearing you say that makes our lieutenant feel human. You endured three nights without sleep and still gave up your rest.”

He was talking about something that had happened during the first adjustment period. The week Captain Fowler had tested him. During the last three days, sleep had not been permitted. It was a sort of Marines tradition. In boot camp, they at least let you sleep a few hours during that course, but the captain had been even harsher.

“I’d appreciate it if you answered the question.”

At the demand not to dodge, the team leader held out the remote control.

“Press it.”

“...What is the meaning of this?”

“It’s necessary.”

Gyeoul accepted the remote and looked at him in silence. Chadwick shrugged.

“I acted that way, but I’m not a madman. It’s just that looking like a normal person causes problems in all sorts of ways. Professionally and in terms of conscience.”

The short statement carried a long meaning. There were people like this. People who, in order to kill others, prepared to be murdered by themselves first. But was it sincere? Gyeoul still could not see inside him. Every time one mask came off, a new mask appeared beneath it.

“I know too, Lieutenant. I know torture is wrong. But these are the times we live in. This is a world where it’s difficult to live as a person unless you step outside humanity. Yes, patriotism is not justice. But it is a necessity of life. Press it. Only then will you be able to hear important information from me.”

Chadwick gestured. Gyeoul put the remote down.

“I don’t understand why you’re testing me like this now, Team Leader.”

“...”

“The very fact that I’m here means your judgment of me is already complete, doesn’t it? In the refugee zone, I was a murderer. You’re not going to say you didn’t know.”

It was a pointed reminder that the Intelligence Agency could hardly be that sloppy. It made Chadwick smile.

“Oh, if I offended you, I apologize. I simply needed certainty. Whether, at the decisive moment, you would tolerate a necessary evil for the greater cause. Whether you would interfere with the operation. You must know the story of the Afghan shepherds and the Navy SEALs. We’d be in trouble if something like that happened here.”

The team leader was referring to a story about U.S. special forces encountering civilians during a covert operation in Afghanistan. They had agonized over it. Should they kill the civilians to preserve secrecy? There was a child among them too.

The U.S. soldiers did not pull the trigger. As a result, they had to accept terrible losses.

Gyeoul answered.

“I’ll keep in mind that I’m not the only one who feels guilty. If that isn’t enough, please remove me from the operation.”

“Well, now.”

Chadwick sighed playfully.

“Sending you here may have been Langley’s mistake, Lieutenant. Not that the desk people ever know what they’re doing. I can’t believe those people once worked in the field. That’s why I don’t go there. I’m afraid I’ll become the same kind of has-been.”

Langley was where CIA headquarters was located.

In the end, Chadwick did not reveal his true business to Gyeoul. Nor did he remove him from the operation, as Gyeoul had requested. As Gyeoul chewed over that night’s conversation, he felt a bad premonition.

‘What necessary evil is he planning?’

If his premonition was right, it would not be anything ordinary.

“Li, what are you thinking so hard about? You’re not sick, are you?”

Tan Guosheng’s voice. Gyeoul looked at him. He had been worried by Gyeoul’s long silence.

“I’m fine. I was thinking about how to get out of here.”

Whatever Chadwick was plotting, there would be no need to worry if the operation itself went smoothly.

The key to the Beidou satellites, held by Tan Guosheng’s mother, Navy Lieutenant General Xieru. If they could secure that alone, the nuclear threat to the U.S. mainland could be dramatically reduced.

‘Though it wouldn’t be as good as catching Changcheng 9...’

Beidou was China’s version of GPS. It still fell short compared to GPS. It had been under construction with a target completion date of 2020. At the time "Days after Apocalypse" began, it was known to provide coordinates only across Northeast Asia, Oceania, and India.

According to what the CIA had learned, though, military use was different. Anywhere in the world, it was involved in the final phase of nuclear ballistic missile guidance. What if they could skew the coordinates when the missile was falling? The warhead would miss its original target by a wide margin. At least several dozen kilometers.

America had also considered destroying these satellites. The problem was that if the remaining Chinese military forces detected it, it could provoke extreme action. It was not as if missiles could not be fired without the satellites.

Kugung, kung.

A loud sound came from the direction of the ventilation duct.

“Hmm, looks like those things are trying hard to climb up. Not that it will do them any good.”

The officer spoke that way, but his voice trembled with anxiety. Gyeoul nodded.

“We wedged them in tight, so it won’t be easy for them to break through. At least not before we leave.”

They had crammed corpses into the ventilation duct. The electrocuted mutants had been stacked, folded, and shoved into the vertical passage. It had not been a wide passage to begin with. In a space where they could not even spread their limbs properly, how could they remove obstacles at a height they had to jump to reach? It would take a long time to climb up.

“About how we get out.”

The officer pointed toward the eastern side of the city.

“Do you see those abandoned American military vehicles over there? I think we might be able to use them. Take a look.”

He held out the binoculars. Gyeoul declined. He could see that far with the naked eye. Several vehicles had been abandoned at the intersection. Among them was a tank. A fuel truck had stopped beside it.

“The refueling hose is inserted. Looks like they were attacked during resupply.”

Otherwise, there was no reason for a tank to fall to mutants. San Francisco had fallen before the Grumbles appeared. A moving tank was invincible against mutants. Its combat power, though, could only be brought to bear when the supply system was intact. In the chaos sweeping the whole city, he had to wonder how useful that fuel-guzzling monster had been.

“We can remove the weapons mounted on the vehicles and use them. Maybe we can even fuel that tank and move it. We only need to go two gongli, two kilometers, south by any means necessary. Then we can receive fire support from the sea. Isn’t that the best possible outcome?”

As he said, Alameda Island was long from side to side and narrow from top to bottom. Their current position was close to the island’s northern shore, but the southern shore was only two kilometers away. Even a heavy tank could cross that distance in moments. Even a Beta Grumble could not stop a sixty-ton steel charge.

But it was impossible.

“Lieutenant Colonel. We don’t know that tank’s activation code.”

They could probably start it mechanically. But a modern tank whose electronics did not work was no different from a blind coffin. Driving with their heads exposed would not be easy either.

“The code... Yes, right. I forgot because it’s enemy equipment. Damn it. Those Laomei bastards. Modernizing the military is all well and good, but did they never consider a total war situation? Other soldiers might have to board after the tankers are killed, no?”

“To begin with, the road conditions are terrible. We don’t know what kind of obstacles there are. Considering the noise of the tank, it would be close to suicide.”

The asphalt seen from above was broken in places. It bore the traces of flood damage that had swept through again and again. In some places, shattered houses sat in the middle of the road. Strong winds must have pushed them there. Between them, channels carved by flowing water stood out clearly. Many places still held standing water.

Taking a vehicle had to be considered impossible.

The one fortunate fact was that even the undersea tunnels had flooded. Both the Webster Tunnel and the Posey Tunnel leading to Oakland were submerged in red water.

“Then what should we do?”

“I agree with securing weapons and ammunition first. We’re far too defenseless right now.”

“And after that?”

“I think it would be better to escape through the northern channel. It’s closer, and four hounds died here.”

“There will be other hounds.”

“They were a new species we hadn’t seen before. I don’t think there will be many of them already.”

“Even so...”

To the officer, who could not shake off his concern, Gyeoul pointed to the west side of the city. The scenery was being erased by sunset-colored fog rolling in from the sea. It looked like it would reach them soon.

“Fortunately, today’s fog looks like it will get quite thick. The conditions are good enough to gamble on. No swimming mutants have appeared yet. Even if there are hounds left and they catch our scent, what can they do when we’re in the middle of the river? The Taowu, the Grumbles, should have poor accuracy with Throwing.”

The Grumbles had been the problem when they were detected during the bridge demolition work too. San Francisco’s fickle fog had fallen far short of predictions that day. The dogs had caught their scent, and the giant monsters had thrown the smaller monsters at them. The projectiles came flying with their arms and legs flailing wildly, unafraid of drowning.

“And this is only my guess, but if we go in a direction without bridges, I think the chance of running into monsters will drop a lot.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“I mean they probably understand how important the bridges are.”

“Surely not.”

Tan Guosheng frowned. But in Gyeoul’s judgment, it was a plausible assumption for the Trickster. The thing used basic tactics and strategy, after all.

============================ Author’s Note ============================

#Q&A

Q. Ronaf: @I was rereading and suddenly thought of this. Was it Asteroso? When they went to the Health Bureau Isolation Ward, there was a description saying the Chinese refugees’ last meal would not have been military rations. What did that mean? Even after rereading, I couldn’t figure it out.

A. At the time, Gyeoul thought the mutants, not the missing people, had eaten them. The chapter title was probably Signs, wasn’t it? In the end, Gyeoul’s prediction was right.

Q. PersonTree: Wow... @Author, I’m thinking of buying the physical book when it comes out, but I’m worried about the product’s reliability. How many bowls of ramyeon can it withstand? Would fish cake stew be okay too?

A. It should be able to stop a 9mm pistol round, I think?

Q. Otter7: @Will the real side or the virtual side take on the bigger and more important weight and role in the work’s ending or the story going forward?

A. In terms of theme, the real side carries more weight. But I feel the real-world story would be hard to establish without the Virtual Reality story.

Q. lolica: Author, are you a science major?

A. I’m a humanities major. Korean literature, at that, which is supposedly the furthest thing from science.

Q. BulgomKeuwang: @Is there a platform where the series is serialized with a pay-per-chapter method?

A. It’s being serialized on Naver N Store. Originally, it should have started last month on other platforms, including Ridibooks, but I heard Naver asked them not to upload it anywhere else for just one more month.

Footnotes:

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