Deployment (7)
"This fucking bastard. I'm gonna kill him. That shitty prick messing with me—"
"C-Calm down! You hold it together, Cheol-woo!"
Cheol-woo lost all reason and started thrashing about wildly. As he bolted toward the direction where Houndmaster had vanished, Yuri barely managed to grab him around the waist and hold him back. He looked ready to actually chase the guy down and slaughter him.
"That man gave it to you because he truly trusts you. He believed you wouldn't hand the launch codes over to some shady character. And he must've figured you were strong enough not to let anyone snatch them away easily."
"Haa... Fine. That guy's no idiot—he's probably holed up tight by now. Chasing him down wouldn't do shit anyway."
"Yeah, yeah."
After struggling in Yuri's arms for what felt like forever, Cheol-woo finally calmed down and regained his senses.
Houndmaster was a seasoned pro who could perfectly erase his tracks and even set traps using the faint scents only ability users could detect. The moment the handover was done, he'd bolted, focusing solely on vanishing without a trace. Hunting him down would've required combing every nook and cranny of the mountains—pointless.
"But... is that thing really the nuclear launch code?"
"Wanna open it?"
"Won't breaking the seal invalidate it unless you're the authorized holder?"
"Yeah, probably. Guess we have to carry it like this."
Examining the card in his hand, he saw it had a groove designed to snap cleanly in half. Breaking it would reveal the paper with the codes inside. If the card was shattered, it implied someone unauthorized had accessed the codes, triggering an immediate lockdown.
"Should I just snap it and burn it? Make sure no one can use it."
"What if we need nukes someday? Like if monsters pour out of a rift and nothing but nukes can stop them."
"..."
Cheol-woo had been tempted to destroy it on the spot, but Yuri's words made him reconsider. He slipped the launch code into a sturdy cardholder wallet.
Nuclear weapons were humanity's worst invention—and its ultimate irreplaceable arsenal. Like she said, a crisis solvable only by nukes might arise. Destroying this would strip America of control over its entire stockpile. No one knew how long recovery would take.
And if the world learned America had no nukes? Russia, China, North Korea—they'd rain hell without fear of retaliation. That was too risky. He had to avoid the nightmare of U.S. stocks turning to worthless paper. Not that his whole fortune was tied up in them or anything—just that the dreams and hopes of people worldwide were.
"He said only two people can use the codes: the President and the Secretary of Defense."
"Yeah. And neither can be infected with parasites, detained, or under duress..."
"What if they are? Both dead or compromised?"
"Then... we'd have to destroy it, I guess."
They decided to save destruction as an absolute last resort.
"Let's head back for now."
"What about recovering his men's bodies?"
"Ugh. Don't wanna. Why honor a request from the guy who screwed me over?"
"Do it. We might cross paths again, and it'd be like we owe him one. Okay?"
"Haaa..."
He'd promised payback later and to meet again, but would the guy even show? Or just ghost forever? Cheol-woo was skeptical, but he went along with Yuri's suggestion. It made him feel morally superior to some security-obsessed foreigner who'd hand over nuclear codes to a total stranger anyway.
Back at the initial bombardment site, two mangled corpses lay amid the wreckage. They collected all personal effects and ID items, then painstakingly bagged the body parts.
Prep for return complete. Aiming to reach base before sundown, Cheol-woo and Yuri chose a route minimizing satellite exposure.
Mutants dotted the path, but Yuri's silent sword strokes sliced them down—slash, slash—without a sound. Their numbers were thick; one noise and they'd swarm. Neither wanted artillery on their heads, so they quietly cleared what they could and barely made it back.
The expeditionary force commander's voice crackled over the radio, laced with barely contained fury. Cheol-woo ignored it completely and headed straight for the crematorium.
"Two bodies. Cremate them."
"Need ID on the deceased and requester."
"Skip the ID check, double the fee."
"...Come back in about eight hours. Backed up right now."
"Got it."
He'd considered dumping them in the sea, but thinking of facing that bastard again, cremation felt right. With his men's ashes in hand, the guy wouldn't vanish forever. He'd resurface for them eventually.
"Sis. How's your body holding up?"
"Huh? I'm totally fine."
"No bullshit. Strip."
"Why can't you trust your sister?!"
"Strip. Now."
"F-Fuck..."
Sure enough, she was fine. Minor bruises all over, but nothing else. Brain scan normal—no concussion.
She really was unscathed? Cheol-woo was impressed. Last time a rifle round cracked her ribs; was her durability improving? Mostly thanks to the suit tanking four .50 cals and shrapnel.
"This protective suit's the real deal."
The new model was easy to repair. Swap Kevlar plates, heat the modular alloy lining to fix deformations, replace the outer layer—good as new. With two suits, they could rotate.
Then—thud thud—a knock.
"Still in maintenance? Time for your report, Mr. David Min."
"Here?"
"Doesn't matter. I need details on why you called in artillery."
"Under fire recon, hit by enemy mortar platoon. Called arty to back-trace mortars to their battery and HQ for counter-battery."
"W-Wait. You had counter-battery radar?"
"Nah. Eyeballed it."
"...Right. Go on."
The commander crossed his arms, face a mix of disbelief. He's half-listening? Yuri bristled, but Cheol-woo stopped her.
"Post-arty, mortars and HQ wiped. Enemy didn't flee—ambushed in the rubble, scale suggests recon company. Here's tags from the bodies. Roughly 100 KIA, rest fled. No POWs."
"..."
A blood-soaked bag of dog tags and IDs thudded onto the desk before the expeditionary commander. His expression was priceless.
Real tags? The commander rummaged, masking shock. Looking up at Cheol-woo, his eyes had changed—no suspicion, no smirk, just pure respect.
"Location?"
"I'll mark it."
As night fell, an Australian company prepped to deploy. Enemy recon sats orbited overhead by day, opposite side at night—perfect cover for movement.
While command held its breath for Aussie radio chatter, Colonel Douglas approached Cheol-woo and Yuri with two steaming mugs.
"Well done. Taking down a company-sized force, just you two? Knew ability users varied, but this... unimaginable."
"No one like that in the U.S.?"
"Maybe somewhere. Not in LA, apparently. Tea?"
"No. Crashing soon."
"Caffeine-free. Calms the mind."
"Don't need it. Want to stay wired."
"..."
Douglas retreated, stumped.
"You two really took them down solo?"
"What's that mean?"
"Not doubting merits. Just... anyone else out there? Civilians, mercs?"
"Only mutants."
"..."
Cheol-woo stated firmly. All Houndmaster evidence incinerated—no trace.
"Error?"
"What the..."
So not just a company in an hour—but a full battalion? Colonel Douglas's pupils shook uncontrollably.