The Little Prince in the Ossuary - Chapter 310

WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

Chapter 310: Greek Islands (10)

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After parting with the commander, Gyeoul immediately committed the number he had received to 「Memorization」. He tore the remaining note into tiny pieces and let the southeast wind outside take them. The little scraps fluttered like a small flock of butterflies, scattering beyond the barbed wire and across the autumn fields. It would be safer than shredding.

After returning to the garrison, he went over their conversation again.

'Can I trust him?'

Nothing was certain. Maybe the embers of rebellion were smoldering in General Schroeder's own heart. A blockade commander would be under surveillance by the relevant authorities, so the odds had to be considered low, but no matter how Gyeoul thought about it, they were not zero.

In that case, the reason Schroeder had given Gyeoul the number was to secure what the general himself had called an "attractive catch" as quickly as possible. If things went wrong and Schroeder could no longer determine Gyeoul's location through his own resources, he had created a back door to confirm it while avoiding interference from the Department of Homeland Security, the FBI, and others. In other words, Gyeoul was prey with a tracker attached.

General Schroeder had motive enough. His dissatisfaction at having his authority reduced was one thing, but after watching the chaos continue inside the safe zone, it was plausible he would think things could not go on this way. It could even be read as a desperate sense of duty.

For example, even Gyeoul was worried about America after Kramer's election. Hatred and discrimination would deepen, division and conflict would intensify, and humanity's future would eventually become uncertain.

The more someone believed they were right and capable, the easier it was for them to be driven into a corner.

Or perhaps he did have ambition, but in a more passive and moderate form.

'All he wants is the reputation of having stopped a rebellion and protected the nation...'

In other words, the general himself had no plan to cause an unsavory incident. He simply wanted to be the first to suppress a rebellion if one broke out. Quickly protecting the most famous war hero would fit the same logic. The general's position would become secure, and it would be enough for him to aim at the presidency later.

Maybe it was a survival strategy. Since the government already regarded him as a person of interest, if the rebels suddenly announced that he was one of the ringleaders, he might get swept up before he could react. He could be detained without knowing what was happening, or forced to join them. Either way, from the rebels' perspective, since they needed to create confusion in the suppression effort, he was an attractive option.

The most troublesome problem for a government responding to rebellion would be identifying friend from foe. Who had joined? How far did it reach? And which units should be mobilized?

From that perspective, Gyeoul's value became more than that of a simple war hero. The current independent company, the future Independent Battalion, possessed traits that set it apart from other units under any circumstances. It would also be useful for drawing in other units whose chains of command had fallen into confusion.

After thinking this far, Gyeoul fiddled with the phone inside his coat. Korea had also suffered a military rebellion, so he found himself wanting to consult living witnesses from that era. Min Wan-ki, for example.

But he soon decided against it. He had suddenly become worried about wiretapping. There was still time anyway, so it would not be too late to discuss it after returning to Fort Roberts. For the same reason, he was reluctant to consult Anne. The CIA was even more out of the question.

Gyeoul turned on his work laptop. He waited for a short while, tapping his forearm with his fingertips. Then he connected to the work network and opened the personnel section. He wanted to request an extension on the deadline for choosing the next company commander.

He expected approval to take time and was about to close the window, but with an unexpected connection alert, a quick reply came back through the chat box at the bottom of the screen. The headquarters personnel staff officer seemed to have been free, or already looking at the relevant screen.

「Your company will be expanded and reorganized into a battalion as soon as it is assigned to Fort Roberts. But the actual combat force available for operation will likely be only one company for the time being. Therefore, the sooner a company commander is designated, the better for the unit to operate without problems. Is there a special reason you need more time?」

Put that way, there was nothing he could say. He could hardly reveal his conversation with the commander exactly as it had happened. After hesitating, Gyeoul typed slowly.

「I have narrowed down the candidates, but there are circumstances that make it difficult to decide immediately.」

「I am asking what those circumstances are.」

「I apologize. It is difficult to say.」

By now, the personnel staff officer was probably wearing a baffled, or even incredulous, expression. They might even be thinking, what an arrogant little punk. Gyeoul decided it could not be helped if the request was rejected.

'If I have to decide right away, it would still be better to choose Lieutenant Park Jin-seok.'

In fact, before meeting General Schroeder, he had intended to choose Yura. If she became company commander, Jin-seok would suffer, but Gyeoul had judged that the reverse would also be true.

But now, he had to be ready to fight other U.S. soldiers. A fight that killed people suited Jin-seok better than Yura. Whether or not they held command responsibility, everyone taking part in the engagement would inevitably have to kill, so there would not be a huge difference in emotional burden.

「Approved.」

After the wait, permission came unexpectedly.

「To be honest, I do not understand it, but it is not an important matter and not especially difficult either. It is a unit that will not be deployed into actual combat anytime soon anyway. Strange timing.」

Gyeoul sensed something tainted in that last phrase. It carried a different meaning from the words about not understanding.

「What do you mean by strange?」

「I mean the timing feels coincidental. There was an instruction from the commander today.」

「May I ask what it was?」

「He said that because of the nature of a unit composed of personnel from refugee backgrounds, there might be something difficult to explain externally, so if you made any request, we should accept it as long as it was not unreasonable. I doubt he expected something like this, though.」

No. There was a high chance General Schroeder had foreseen even this when he gave that instruction. If this conversation reached his ears, the general would guess that Gyeoul was agonizing over the possibility of fighting rebel forces.

'Maybe this was a test too...'

In other words, a test of Gyeoul's judgment.

The personnel staff officer's message updated.

「In any case, I hope you understand that this is not how work like this should be handled.」

「Yes. I will keep it in mind.」

「Do not take that badly, though. I think fairly well of you. :)」

「Thank you.」

「Then that is all. Go handle your business.」

After leaving a farewell, the staff officer disconnected. Soon afterward, the approved document arrived.

After confirming there was no problem with its contents, Gyeoul put the brakes on his endless suspicions. Considering various possibilities was good in itself, but he wanted to avoid being buried too deep in thought. Objectively speaking, General Schroeder was a decent person. It was persuasive enough even to assume he had told nothing but the truth. It was simply difficult to trust him one hundred percent.

Time passed, and sunset came.

After finishing his meal and stepping outside, Gyeoul unexpectedly met someone again at the entrance to the officers' mess.

"Sir!"

The person who pushed away from the wall they had been leaning against and saluted with a pleased face was Captain Pamela Pelletier, the attack aircraft pilot he had rescued during Boar Hunt.

"Captain."

After returning the salute, Gyeoul looked over her outfit. She was wearing a pilot suit.

"You look well. It is good to see you. I suppose your bone has already healed?"

"Yes. It was not a serious injury in the first place."

"Hm. I did not know Alamo flight was stationed here."

"No. If we had been, I would have come to see you sooner. Right now we only stopped by for refueling and maintenance. We had to catch a sniper, so we tore up a ridge around here."

"A sniper..."

"General Yang's remnants."

When the U.S. military dealt with snipers, they often wiped out suspicious buildings or terrain rather than deploying snipers of their own. If an entire flight of attack aircraft had been mobilized, saying they had torn up the whole ridge was probably no exaggeration. Though "around here" in Air Force terms likely was not that close.

"Casualties?"

Asked that, the captain answered without much confidence.

"I do not know the details. I heard several people were injured, but I am not sure whether anyone died. They say another video featuring that piece of work was found this time too. For things like this, it would be more accurate for you to ask around than for me to tell you, Lieutenant Colonel."

"..."

The Shangjiang's malice lingered stubbornly. Some people cynically called the Shangjiang bin Laden's successor. They meant the strategies of terrorism had been compiled into one whole. A vague existence whose reality was unclear. The nasty feeling that even after the kill, it did not feel like anyone had died, and even after things ended, it did not feel over. A weakness of America the Shangjiang must have analyzed thoroughly.

Captain Pelletier looked awkward.

"This is troublesome. I did not come here to give you depressing news..."

"What brings you here?"

"I heard you were still here, so I came to see you for a moment. Last time, with everything going on, I could not even thank you properly. And there is something else I wanted to tell you."

"No need to thank me. I only did what I had to do."

"Still, that is not enough. I also receive personal thanks from my ground-pounder friends now and then."

Then she took a small, neatly wrapped box from her pocket and held it out. Gyeoul accepted it and tilted his head. It had a moderate weight, neither light nor heavy. When he shook it, he heard the faint rasp of small things rubbing together.

"What is this?"

"Cigars."

"...I appreciate the thought, but I am not a smoker."

"They are closer to decorations or luxury goods than cigarettes. I just want to give you the most valuable thing I own. Early last year, on a day when I made a tidy profit at a casino, I bought them on impulse. Once I had them, they felt too precious, so I could not even open the wrapping."

"How much did they cost?"

"At the time, about four hundred dollars each. I heard they were aged after being soaked in tequila. Now they are impossible to get even if you want them, so anyone who knows their tobacco would pay a premium for them."

"Then I really cannot accept them. The price is one thing, and something like this should belong to someone who knows how to enjoy it."

Gyeoul tried to return the box, but the captain smiled and declined.

"I quit now too."

"Why?"

"That day, when I was trapped in the crashed aircraft and smoking what might have been the last one of my life, I thought that if I made it back alive, I would smoke these first... but once I actually returned, I could not bring myself to touch them. It would feel unfair if I survived all that just to die of cancer."

Then her smile deepened.

"I smoked far too much for a while. The world might end at any moment, so to hell with it. That was how I felt, and I had one in my mouth all day. But things have changed now, have they not? It may already be too late, but no matter how late it is, it is better than never starting at all."

In other words, she was giving him a luxury item she could not bring herself to open even with that mindset. Only then did Gyeoul accept her gift.

"I understand what you mean. That is good. I will keep this as a souvenir."

"You may do that, or you may give it to someone else. At your level, Lieutenant Colonel, you will probably meet all kinds of people from now on. I hope it helps you, even in that way."

"Thank you. Truly."

After putting the box away, Gyeoul asked another question.

"By the way, did you not say there was something else you wanted to tell me?"

"Ah, yes. I wanted to ask if you could contact this number later, if you ever have time."

It was another phone number. But it was not Pelletier's personal contact information. Instead of a person's name, the business card had an organization's logo and name printed on it.

"What is this place?"

"It is a civic group that supports active-duty soldiers. I learned about it because a hometown friend works there as an office manager. They say they are planning a half marathon where soldiers and civilians participate together to commemorate this victory. It is supposed to be a performance calling for social unity..."

The captain looked fed up.

"They kept pestering me to pass the word on to you if I had the chance. Still, their intentions seem good, and I thought it might help you too, since you have refugees under your care, so I said I would at least mention it."

"Sounds good. I will talk with them."

It was not empty talk. Anything related to the event would need approval from the public affairs office first, but even apart from that, a connection with a civic group could be useful in many ways.

"And..."

Captain Pelletier suggested carefully.

"If you are not busy, how about a drink with our flight tonight? Our flight leader would like to buy you a drink."

Gyeoul paused. A faint idea crossed his mind.

"If it is Alamo's flight leader, then... Major Strickland? Is major right?"

He knew the surname, but the rank was unclear. It was either major or lieutenant colonel. Asked that, the captain looked surprised.

"Yes. Do you know our flight leader?"

"No. I only happened to..."

He had only heard the name once through Major General Rogers. But now, it held new meaning. Gyeoul decided to accept Alamo flight's invitation.

"I will go. Tell me the time and place."

Captain Pelletier looked pleased by the quick acceptance.

"8 p.m., the officers' bar. The flight leader will be happy. She is a fan of yours, Lieutenant Colonel."