WeTried Translations
Translator: Coughing Baby
Editor: Coughing Baby
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 380: Each One's Homeland (14)
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It was too early to feel safe. Madness was madness because no one knew where it might lurch next. The old traitor still held an active deadman switch. There was no guarantee that anything she had said wasn't 「deception」, and it would hardly be strange if a mad patriot's resolve overturned again at any moment.
One step. Gyeoul slowly, carefully closed the distance.
"I have a lot to say, but if you mean it, hand that over first."
Clarissa smiled at Gyeoul's outstretched hand.
"Oh, my. Give this old woman just a little more time. There is one last call I need to receive. I am waiting for news of the deaths of people who deserve to die."
"If you still intend to hurt innocent people-"
"No."
Clarissa cut off Gyeoul's tightly controlled words.
"That is not what I mean. I said people who deserve to die. Don't you understand? You must have met plenty of them yourself. Human trash enjoying wealth and rights that do not belong to them... The fallen rulers and dictators who abandoned their duties, betrayed their homelands, abandoned their people, and fled to this land. For example, President Karayev of Turkmenistan."
President Karayev was the owner of those golden prized horses. He had gifted Gyeoul the finest stallion as well, and when Xcel beat that horse to death, he had demanded Manuel Hayes's execution on the grounds of poor management. A man who had shipped out gold, dollars, and prized horses before his own people.
The old woman sneered.
"Surely you do not believe they deserve to be alive, Lieutenant Colonel?"
"..."
"Letting that human garbage live in luxury was a grave mistake by the current administration. As a patriot, I am correcting my country's mistake. This, too, is surgery. Surgery to remove a tumor."
She pointed to her wristwatch.
"To help with that surgery, and for the citizens' survival, what you must do is simple. Just keep this old woman company until the results come in. How about it? Quite easy, isn't it? You will not have to wait long. Fifteen minutes ago, I received a report that they had almost succeeded."
Clarissa murmured, "Probably only a few minutes now."
"An ordinary death would be far too merciful. They will be executed in a manner befitting the sins they committed. They should feel even one-hundredth of the fear and pain the people they abandoned must have felt."
"Don't tell me you used necrotoxin..."
"Correct. Heh heh."
The mad old woman continued calmly.
"I had planned to use some of it to reduce the number of Chinese people as well, but sadly, the government responded quickly this time. In any case, we brought in the amount needed for the executions, and the mere possibility that the toxin might be dispersed was enough to help the operation, so I am not too disappointed."
The phone rang.
"Finally."
Clarissa raised a finger to her lips and answered the call.
But before long, her expression twisted.
"I told you he had to be unharmed! What kind of handling is that?!"
Gyeoul's ears caught the complaint leaking from the receiver. It was a protest that they had failed to respond properly because of that very order. Then they mentioned an unexpected name.
'Edgar Kramer?'
The person Clarissa had ordered them to keep alive was none other than the Republican Party presidential candidate. He had shown his face at the riding club that morning, and it seemed he had still been near the heads of ruined states when this situation began. Since the traffic jam had trapped them in place, there was a good chance the various protection details had cooperated, if only to survive.
That Kramer had seized the traitors' weapons.
"Money is not the issue!"
The old woman roared, suddenly seeming like a completely different person.
"You idiots! Shut up and follow orders! The plan does not change! The plan does not change, I said! The executions will be carried out on schedule no matter what! Do you understand?!"
As the old woman shouted, the voice on the other end rose as well. It sounded as if they had long been unhappy with the mad old woman's high-handed attitude. The call cut off abruptly. The other side had hung up on her. Enraged, Clarissa tried to reconnect, but the signal only rang and rang, with no sign of anyone picking up.
"Damn it!"
Crunch! The phone shattered. Red blood ran from the old woman's clenched, heaving fist. Immediately afterward, her world spun violently. Thud! Clarissa hit the ground with her whole body and, for a moment, the fierce pain left her unable to breathe. Crack. Crunch. Her arm was bent at the joint, and the hand gripping the Clacker throbbed with pain as if it were being crushed. Gyeoul was squeezing it hard.
It had been a gamble, taking advantage of the old woman's distraction. Gyeoul let out a breath of relief at its success.
"It's over."
Keeping Clarissa pinned facedown with one knee, Gyeoul twisted the Clacker's key and disabled it. Then he snapped the key off completely. With that, the danger of the city bombs detonating all at once was gone. The jamming would still remain, though.
"Khh, hhhhhhh."
The pinned old woman laughed like someone who had lost her mind.
"This pain is truly wonderful."
Gyeoul did not handle her gently. He hauled her upright as if he might break her bones.
"You are going to tell me everything you know."
He could listen while moving. The same went for inflicting as much pain as needed. Urging the traitors to surrender in the old woman's name was not realistic, but it would be entirely possible to throw them into confusion while hiding the fact that she had been captured.
But when he heard where the toxin and Candidate Kramer were, Gyeoul lost his composure.
"Where?"
"The hotel."
Clarissa spoke while gasping from the pain of her twisted arm.
"The Mandarin Oriental."
Anne.
Gyeoul threw the old woman aside, kicked the door open, and began running like mad.
"Sir! Where are you going?!"
The soldiers standing guard outside shouted in alarm, but instead of answering, Gyeoul vaulted over the railing and jumped down the stairs. He trusted them to handle Clarissa Chadwick's custody on their own.
'I should have thought of it!'
Cross just one bridge from East Potomac Park, where the riding club had been held, and you were at the Mandarin Oriental hotel. The FBI's safe house and situation room were there, which made it a suitable place for the heads of ruined states to shelter until the situation settled. It was only natural that the traitors would target it.
There was no time to go back. Gyeoul gritted his teeth and broke through the south front of the convention center. Friendly fire was more dangerous than the enemy. Unlike at the start, the traitors were clearly on the defensive now. Ping, ping. Bullets shrieked sharply. Every armored vehicle that had gone outside was burning, and the few remaining troops and vehicles were retreating indoors while continuing a desperate resistance. Without slowing, Gyeoul killed a magazine's worth of enemy infantry and swept past. An armored vehicle reversing with its front aimed forward did not attack when Gyeoul suddenly appeared. Since he had emerged from behind it, they must not have had time to tell whether he was friend or foe.
Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom!
The instant he entered the sunlight, unidentified explosions tore up the road in a straight line. With the help of a flashing warning, Gyeoul barely escaped the kill zone. He slid under a wrecked truck. Torn steel cut his arm, harsh friction scraped the skin from his knee, and a fragment that flew in from somewhere struck his back and knocked him off balance. A scattering of smaller wounds had opened across him as well. Had he rushed too much? Without body armor, he would have died instantly. One beat late, Gyeoul identified the explosions.
'A 30-millimeter autocannon?'
A familiar kind of firepower, one that had helped him many times in the past. The angle of impact pointed to low altitude above the straight road. The attack just now had come from an attack helicopter. His ringing ears picked out the helicopter engine noise buried beneath the explosions. Had the enemy somehow gotten their hands on helicopters too?
At Carnegie Library, someone wearing White Cell identification equipment waved both arms toward the northeast.
"Cease fire! Cease fire! Friendly down here, you fucking son of a bitch!"
Whether they recognized that or the message was relayed some other way, the intermittent barrage that had continued for several seconds stopped.
The Marine officer he had met earlier welcomed Gyeoul's return.
"You were alive! Good to have you back!"
"What the hell is that helicopter...?"
"It came in low along the road! White Cell opened the path! Fire support from an Army aviation unit, and transport support from the Air Force! Now all that's left is blowing the rebel bastards' heads off! But goddamn it!"
The man, who had been celebrating, belatedly noticed Gyeoul's injuries and grimaced.
"You look like you're bleeding badly! Leave this to us! Head south of the library! A transport helicopter will be here soon! Can you move on your own?"
He meant for him to fall back to the rear. Gyeoul was about to shake him off, saying this was no time, but then stopped. The hotel was two kilometers away, and the route was packed with obstacles. How long would it take to run that distance with his stamina spent?
"Thanks for telling me!"
Gyeoul left the Marines behind and ran to the spot the man had indicated. He had said it would arrive soon, and right on time, a new helicopter engine drew closer. Thirty or forty seconds until arrival. Gyeoul quickly checked the wounded gathered in one place as they waited for evacuation. He could not take a helicopter away from the critically wounded.
'Can I trust my own eyes?'
No one seemed to be in immediate danger of dying, but Gyeoul found himself doubting his judgment. He was afraid his urgency might be distorting it.
The landed helicopter poured out reinforcements and ammunition.
Gyeoul made his decision. Unless the helicopter was shot down on the way, a four-kilometer round trip would not critically affect casualty evacuation.
"This helicopter is going south!"
The two pilots were startled by Lieutenant Colonel Han Gyeoul himself, then startled again by Gyeoul's demand.
「Sir! That direction is not a safe route yet!」
"I know! It's urgent!"
The Air Force pilots looked troubled, but they did not hesitate for long. They lifted the aircraft about five meters off the ground, then plunged straight into the forest of buildings. Wearing a headset, Gyeoul gave directions. The helicopter passed the Smithsonian Museum and FBI Headquarters, then cut through the National Mall.
"Nine o'clock at Eisenhower Avenue!"
The map he had learned through 「Memorization」 helped again. The aircraft turned its nose at a right angle. Before long, a new combat zone came into view ahead. Police and FBI support forces had surrounded the hotel. The pilots grasped the situation too.
「Is this the destination?!」
"Yes! Maintain speed! Don't land, just drop me off! After that, return to your transport mission!"
Running landing. A method used when the landing zone was dangerous, or when the situation was urgent. They skipped the deceleration for safety. The pilots lowered the altitude. His view opened. From a high floor of the hotel, an anti-tank rocket, an LAW, was fired at the helicopter.
「Fuck!」
Even as they cursed, the pilots did not wrench the aircraft away. The rocket pierced the air three meters above them. Gyeoul threw off the headset and jumped down onto the ground rushing past like a torrent. The world whirled. Gyeoul rolled as if he would break apart, and only stopped when he slammed into an FBI armored truck. Bureau combatants firing from behind the vehicle helped Gyeoul up as he staggered to his feet. The helicopter passed straight through and disappeared. The question came with a note of disbelief.
"Are you support, or a patient who fell out by accident?!"
"Support."
"What kind of support is one beat-up wounded... oh."
The combatant recognized Gyeoul a little late and understood at once.
Footnotes:
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