WeTried Translations
Translator: Coughing Baby
Editor: Coughing Baby
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 311: Greek Islands (11)
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The bar on the base was filled with the smell of dry wood. It was a newly assembled wooden building, and all kinds of ammunition crates had been taken apart and used for the interior. As a result, the walls were covered with markings for various calibers, ammunition types, quantities, and lot identification numbers. Oddly enough, it gave the place a decent atmosphere.
When Gyeoul stepped inside, the people near the entrance paid him quiet respect. A brief look of greeting, a small nod, or a silent lift of a glass. There were superiors and subordinates among them, but in a place like this, nobody exchanged formal salutes. Gyeoul answered with a nod of his own.
“Sir! Over here!”
Captain Pelletier raised a hand from a table by the window. The Alamo Squadron members looking back from their seats were easy to recognize, if only because their uniforms differed from the Army’s. Since this was a squadron of single-seat attack aircraft, there were only four of them in all.
On his way over, Gyeoul spotted an unexpected pair. The 1st Platoon Leader and the 4th Platoon Leader were sitting side by side at the counter around the bartender. Even from behind, they were hard to miss.
Huuuuh-
Amid the noise, there was one sob muffled against a collar. Ensign Cheon So-min was leaning against Yura, her shoulders trembling. Yura looked troubled, but she was still holding her junior. It was like watching an older sister who could not bring herself to get angry even when her younger sibling was being awful. So-min was much taller, so the picture was a little awkward, but the warmth of it had nothing to do with appearances. More than a few curious gazes kept stealing glances from behind them.
Gyeoul pretended not to notice and joined Alamo Squadron. The flushed flight leader welcomed him politely.
“Sir. Thank you for accepting the invitation. Strickland. Major Brandy Strickland.”
“I knew your name, but this is our first time meeting, Major. It’s good to meet all of you. I’m Lieutenant Colonel Han Gyeoul.”
Then the other two, aside from Pelletier, whom he had met before, introduced themselves.
“Captain Arthur Rosemond.”
“Lieutenant Damon Sandover. Do you drink at all?”
Gyeoul gave a small nod.
“If someone hands me a drink, I drink. It’s illegal, though.”
Laughter spread at the light joke. Outside the dependent territory, the legal drinking age in every U.S. state was twenty-one. But among soldiers, that standard meant nothing. After fighting together on a battlefield where lives were at stake, coming back to share a drink only to say, “You’re underage, so you sit out,” would be nothing more than nasty exclusion.
He did not mention that he did not enjoy drinking. He had come here for a reason, and that made fitting in all the more necessary. It would also make it easier to gain Major Strickland’s cooperation. She might be offended if she learned that the real reason he wanted this meeting was her father.
“Please take this.”
Lieutenant Sandover pushed an empty glass in front of Gyeoul.
“There are more glasses than people. Is someone else coming?”
When Gyeoul asked, Captain Rosemond lifted the deck of cards.
“The one in the center is the 「king’s cup」.”
“A drinking game?”
“Nothing works better for getting close on a first meeting. Or that would be good too.”
The direction the captain pointed was filled with loud thunks and stabs. It was a bayonet-throwing target, a wooden board fixed to the wall with a life-size mutant drawn on it. Here, it served the same purpose as darts in any other bar. To get the highest score, you had to stick the knife between the brows, in the groin, and in the nipples.
Captain Rosemond shuffled the cards quickly and said, “But with that one, you only show your real skill if you throw after drinking. For now, it’s this game. Do you know the rules?”
“Not at all.”
“Hmm. It’s not especially hard. I’ll explain each card as we flip them.”
The captain set down the deck and pushed it with one finger, forming a perfect circle around the empty glass. The gaps between the cards were even too. At the neat bit of skill, Pelletier whistled.
“Amazing every time I see it. You look like a professional gambler.”
Gyeoul smiled awkwardly.
“It would be a problem if I drank enough to get drunk.”
“Don’t worry.”
Captain Rosemond said, “This is nothing but an excuse for our flight leader.”
“An excuse?”
“Yes. Unless it’s work, it’s hard to hear her voice... We have to do something like this just to have a conversation. We should finish before anyone gets wasted.”
Pelletier added, “The greeting she gave you earlier was probably the longest thing she’s said all day.”
Major Strickland clamped her mouth shut and glared at the two of them. Captain Pelletier shrugged.
“She’s speaking with her eyes even now. Why are you saying pointless things and embarrassing me, she says.”
The awkwardness faded from Gyeoul’s smile.
“In that regard, I think you resemble your father, General Strickland.”
“Have you met him before?”
“Briefly at Vandenberg Base on my way to San Francisco. He was the commander there at the time.”
At that, the three of them let out impressed oohs. It was a story about Gyeoul, and also a story about their flight leader. Major Strickland herself looked a little uncomfortable and embarrassed. But she did not speak. It did not seem as if she hated it all that much.
Lieutenant Sandover asked, “Now that’s interesting. Is he very quiet too?”
“Yes. Very.”
“Did he say anything?”
“He said he needed an autograph for his daughter.”
The Alamo Squadron members burst into laughter.
“Time to pass the drinks around.”
Lieutenant Sandover opened the first bottle. Eagle Rare. An eagle was drawn on the label. The whiskey poured into each glass to about the height of a pinky joint was a deep amber with a reddish hue. Captain Rosemond offered it to him.
“This is what our squadron usually drinks most often. Personally, I think it’s the best thing Buffalo Trace makes. It would have been better if we’d found Antique, but unfortunately they didn’t have any here. Anyway, before we start the game proper, I recommend tasting it as it is.”
“Shall I?”
When Gyeoul lifted his glass, the other four lifted theirs too. Cheers. After the brief exchange, Gyeoul took a sip. Although it was strong liquor at 45 percent alcohol, the first taste was very smooth. But the moment he swallowed, a powerful aroma rose. The bright freshness of orange blended with the rich flavors of cocoa and vanilla. Alongside a mellow sweetness, there was also the savory hint of almond. Only after that did his esophagus begin to burn. Gyeoul tilted his head.
“Every time I try good whiskey, I feel like I’m drinking delicious perfume.”
Captain Pelletier laughed.
“In a way, isn’t liquor just perfume you’re allowed to drink? The main ingredient is alcohol in both cases, and fragrance matters either way. The more luxurious the brand, the more the price shoots up. That’s similar too. Ah, right. So is the fact that drinking it does you no good.”
“Are you okay, Captain?”
“Pardon?”
“I heard you quit smoking for your health, so I was wondering if drinking was fine.”
“...It’s hard to quit everything at once, so I’ll quit this later.”
It was a good excuse. The captain jabbed his snickering wingman, Lieutenant Sandover, hard with an elbow, then drained his glass.
Gyeoul sipped his first glass and glanced toward the TV hanging from the ceiling inside the counter.
「Amid the ongoing debate over Republican Party presidential candidate Edgar Kramer’s revelation, the government has finally decided to announce its official position tomorrow.」
That was a little later than expected. Kramer had spent quite some time circling the issue, either to choose his timing or to amplify the public’s suspicions, so the government should have had enough time to prepare.
Gyeoul cut off his thoughts before they could deepen.
‘I need to focus on this right now.’
While considering General Schroeder’s proposal, he had focused on Major General Strickland because of the special nature of the Air Force. For a military rebellion to succeed, it had to seize key facilities such as the White House and Congress. That meant the Air Force, with its limited ground forces, had difficulty leading a military rebellion.
“There’s something I’ve been curious about for a while. How many ground combat units does the Air Force have?”
When Gyeoul asked, the Alamo Squadron members exchanged looks.
“Uh, first, there are some base security forces... Other than that, maybe Combat Control Teams, CCT, or Tactical Air Control Parties, TACP? But those people do conduct ground operations, sure, though direct engagement isn’t their main mission. They deploy out and direct firepower. Of course, if they actually fight, I’m sure they’re good.”
After saying that much, Captain Rosemond looked to the flight leader last, as if checking whether he had gotten it right. Major Strickland gave the smallest nod. Gyeoul asked for more detail.
“Those units aren’t directly commanded by the Air Force, right?”
“Probably not...”
At Rosemond’s uncertainty, Major Strickland finally opened her mouth.
“They’re Air Force, but they also belong to Special Operations Command. They’re halfway to Rangers.”
In other words, in actual combat, they followed a separate chain of command. In the end, that meant the base security forces were almost the only ground forces controlled by the Air Force.
‘Some units might take part, but the main force would still be the Army.’
That was true not only of rebellions, but of every war. Bombing alone could not end it. Infantry had to go in and plant the flag.
The Air Force was also free from the manpower quality problem. Its standards were higher than the Army’s. Infantry training was hard, but in terms of training difficulty, it was hard to compare it with training pilots. The base security forces would also have been maintained at a level similar to before the plague.
Above all, according to Major General Rogers, Major General Strickland’s post was Deputy Commander of Mobility Command. Since he mainly controlled air transport, he had little connection to combat units, which made it less likely that he was involved in a coup. But as Major General Rogers had said, for a soldier, earning a star belonged to the realm of politics. If Gyeoul asked for help, he would at least be able to get useful advice.
‘I have to go this far for such a low possibility...’
Gyeoul smiled bitterly to himself. General Schroeder, the one who had brought it up, had appeared looking more at ease than before, hadn’t he? Assuming that was not an act, it meant he also did not see a rebellion as very likely. He was only preparing for the worst.
Captain Pelletier looked over the table, then grinned and lifted his glass.
“Looks like everyone is done. Good. Let’s fill them again, and now each person can flip a card.”
The game’s rules matched each card type one-to-one. Suits did not matter, only the numbers and letters, for a total of twelve kinds. When Gyeoul flipped an ace right from the start, laughter and groans ran around the table.
“No helping it. Everyone drinks. Lieutenant Colonel first!”
Urged on by Captain Rosemond, Gyeoul obediently emptied his glass. As if they had been waiting, the others swallowed theirs down in order. Across from him, Major Strickland wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and smiled faintly. Judging from the fact that the squadron members did not look surprised, she still had more expressions than her father.
“Ah, damn. Four of spades.”
Pelletier, whose turn came after Gyeoul, grumbled at his choice, then emptied his glass along with the flight leader. Lieutenant Sandover explained to a puzzled Gyeoul that only women drank for that card.
On Captain Rosemond’s turn, a queen was flipped.
“Oh, whom should I ask?”
He said that, but his eyes were already on Gyeoul.
“Sir. If you can’t answer my question, you have to empty your glass.”
“So that’s the rule. Fine. What are you curious about?”
“Are you dating anyone right now?”
Captain Pelletier whistled like before. Gyeoul answered honestly.
“Not right now... but there is someone I think of as the one I’d give my heart to, if I gave it to anyone.”
Wow. The questioner gave a short exclamation, and everyone else looked interested too.
“Then does that person know this?”
“Isn’t it against the rules to ask twice?”
Rosemond could not hide his disappointment at Gyeoul’s counterquestion.
As they kept flipping cards that way, they ended up joining the bayonet throwing mentioned at the start. The Ranger officers at the next table had also suggested a match.
While everyone else went first and warmed up, Gyeoul quietly asked Major Strickland, who had been the last to get up.
“Major. Could I consult with you privately tomorrow?”
“Consult?”
She looked slightly troubled.
“Yes. It’s important.”
“...”
After a brief moment of thought, the major tilted her head once, but still nodded.
Footnotes:
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