Bunker Candidate Sites (1)
"Long time no see, Mr. David Min. I've been swamped these past few days and couldn't reach out until now. Glad we could finally meet."
"I figured scouting bunker sites would take longer, but this was faster than I expected. Good to see you."
Jason, now the director of the Secret Intelligence Agency, right? Cheol-woo shook his hand with a friendly smile.
The last few days must've been chaos just cleaning up the mess, leaving them short-staffed for bunker scouting. He'd assumed no word for months, but here they were after just a week. For a government official, the turnaround was surprisingly quick.
"Has the headquarters basement been cleaned up?"
"Ah, you mean that pile of corpses you left? We cleared and scrubbed it ages ago, but the stench lingers. Might as well pretend the basement doesn't exist."
"I don't have to cover the cleanup costs, do I?"
"Of course not. We're not that shameless."
"Damage assessments should be done by now. What's the tally from the parasite outbreak? Media says around 700,000 casualties."
"That's just from after the national emergency was declared. Real number's higher—850,000 if you include those who died from infections."
"Ah... I see."
850,000. A staggeringly huge number, but for some reason, Cheol-woo felt numb to it. The parasites that overran Darwin alone numbered nearly 100,000. Put another way, casualties from that backwater town made up over 10% of the total. Maybe that's why it felt small.
Whatever the case, once other countries tallied their own chaos, Australia's losses would look cute by comparison. Relatively speaking, it wasn't wrong.
"Today's sites are all far apart, so we'll fly between them. You've met this pilot already?"
"Yeah, familiar face."
"Heard he dropped you on a low-altitude parachute jump. Even strapped you to hazardous cargo. That right, Major?"
"Yes, sir. That's correct."
"Are you insane? Guest requests or not—dropping a man from low altitude on a few parachute lines? Have you lost your mind?"
"S-sorry, sir."
Leaving the pilot to get royally chewed out, Cheol-woo boarded the C-130 transport with Yuri. But Yuri was huddled up, shivering like a leaf—dal-dal-dal.
Cold? Weather wasn't chilly.
"Want my windbreaker?"
"N-no."
"Then why're you shaking like an aspen?"
"Just... feels uneasy... no hazmat suit..."
"Why didn't you wear it?"
"Come on, that's weird. We're not going to fight."
The NewTontonMan suit was heavy, uncomfortable, and visibility sucked at first, but Yuri had grown used to it. Inside felt warm, cozy, worries melting away. Even without obvious threats, going bare now felt exposed. Like stepping out naked.
Pretty much.
"Sis, you forget something?"
"Huh? No, why?"
"You did. This. This."
"Ah...!"
Cheol-woo tsked, pulling the choker from his pocket. Yuri's eyes widened—ah-ha. No wonder she'd felt off.
"Neck out. I'll fasten it."
"Hey, not too tight. Hurts."
The moment it clicked on, calm washed over her. Racing heart slowed; wind on skin dulled to nothing. Ah—so that's what it was. Yuri sighed in relief, hand over her chest. She'd thought she couldn't even step out without the suit. Good thing not.
[Taking off. Please fasten seatbelts.]
The transport's first stop: Lake Mackay. So remote they landed at an airstrip, then switched to helicopter.
"Secures water from the lake, and poor roads make defense ideal. No large forces or armor getting in."
"But too poor? Bunker owners need outside access."
"Buy a chopper."
"Looks like desert. Farmable?"
"No. Need indoor farms."
"...Next site."
Not bad, but dead-center desert nagged. Far from cities was good—too far? Trips for meds or food meant chopper rides drawing eyes and burning fuel.
Cheol-woo scratched the first site.
Next: cave behind a waterfall. Stealth top-tier. Tucked in mountains but with narrow roads—not great, not awful. Small vehicles fine; big rigs or convoys a hassle—defensive win. Batman-lair vibes added romance, but weak bedrock killed expansion. Bomb hit? Game over.
Passed.
"Last one. Abandoned radar base, 15 kilometers from Newcastle."
"Water?"
"Seawater, desal plant. Long-abandoned, busted. We'll fix or replace."
Tok-tok-tok. Yuri tapped her phone, pulling Newcastle info. Population ~700,000. Fit the "no million-plus city within 500km" rule.
Close city freed logistics—handy, but riots could threaten bunker. Big city? Fatal. Midsize? Manageable.
"Ch-Cheol-woo. Costco nearby...!"
"So?"
"You wanna live off MREs, no fresh meat?"
"..."
Cheol-woo caved instantly. Costco was major.
In total collapse, irrelevant. Peacetime? Warehouse mart decided life quality.
"Let's tour."
"Yacht slip?"
"Yes. Small, but room for a couple boats."
"Nice."
Yacht dock hooked him. Heli pad, hangars for vehicles/helicopters/light aircraft. Vast warehouses, fuel storage. Perfect for stockpiles. Fertile land for farms, too.
"Surface facilities all ours?"
"Yes. Air force ditched 'em on pullout. Yours on purchase."
"That antenna?"
Cheol-woo pointed at the massive, rusted-but-solid dish.
"Yes. Software/computers stripped, useless as-is."
"So hacking it back online won't violate security laws?"
"Uh... as long as it doesn't threaten Australia's security...?"
Jason chilled, hairs standing. Anyone else? Meh. This guy? He'd make it work. Air force dumped it no-strings—fine. Headaches later? Theirs, not his.
"Mind if we check inside?"
After touring surface, Cheol-woo nodded. Beat-up, but remodelable. Huge scale—plenty space even with separate quarters.
"Oh. Underground bunker too."
"Already exists?"
"Tiny, ~10 square meters. Panic room size."
"..."
Bunker existed, but wee—emergency only. Expansion downward main. Ample footprint, solid bedrock. Prime spot, ready-to-live post-remodel with existing surface stuff.
Perfect.
Satisfied smile tugged Cheol-woo's lips.
"This one. Buy it."
"Great. Construction plans—"
"One thing first. Confirm that. Buildable?"
"..."
Here it comes. Jason rubbed his brow, groaning.
"SMR, right."
"Yes. Promised small reactor. Need assurance it's feasible here."
"..."
Why'd I promise that? Jason sighed heavily.