Chapter 99: Deployment (15)
"Is the towed artillery in forward position?"
"Ten minutes until the battery is fully deployed, sir. Ready to fire soon."
"Good. The moment it's set, turn the Australian 1st Company into Swiss cheese."
The colonel muttered around a mouthful of apple, crunching it viciously. It had been three full hours since John Friedman's emergency transmission hit the open frequency. By now, it wouldn't be strange if David Min had caught up and either captured or killed him.
They had to annihilate the Australians with Federal help before that happened—and get Federal forces inside the LA base.
John Friedman is a parasite too. He won't betray the greater cause for his own survival.
The worst case would be Friedman ordering Federal disarmament and revealing the spy list inside the base, but that was unlikely. Parasites prioritized the collective over the individual. Threats didn't work on them. Group survival trumped personal life. Completely unlike humans.
Unlike humans like me, standing here as a spy for the parasites because they've taken my family hostage...
The colonel squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't deserve to feel guilt.
"Australian 2nd Company's position?"
"Still recovering wounded from the combat zone, sir."
"Pin them there. After we hit 1st Company, shell 2nd too."
"Pardon?"
"You got a dick in your ear? Who's the fucker keep asking me to repeat?"
"..."
There was some pushback against the incomprehensible order, but it didn't matter anymore. A soldier's duty was to obey. Even if one doubting officer shot him dead, he wasn't the only spy here. The next base commander would be another.
To root out all spies, they'd need total control of the ops room—but unit commands were already locked down by infiltrators. The only wildcard was the independent Australian force. Wipe them out, and the board was set.
"Colonel, request to open the main gate."
"Main gate? Who is it?"
"Our search company bringing wounded from Australian handover for evac."
"Open it."
"Yes, sir."
Wounded or whatever—didn't matter. They needed to shell the Australians into oblivion now.
The colonel badgered them a dozen times about battery deployment.
"Still not ready!?"
"Deployment complete."
"Fire! Now! Hurry!"
"Australian artillery refusing orders."
Fuck.
They'd figured out their own troops were the targets?
"Drag out the Australian gunners. Restrain them all, our artillery takes over."
"Understood."
You think you're the only ones with guns? We have 'em too.
The colonel smirked bitterly. Australian or US towed artillery was the same system, minor specs aside. Seizing and firing wouldn't be hard.
But why so long?
His eyes twitched. Something felt off.
"What? No word on seizure success?"
"No contact from the battery."
"What the hell does that mean!? Our guys can't have been overrun by Australians! Send all guards to check the situation!"
"Yes, sir—"
The ops room door slammed open. Armed troops poured in. The kangaroo patches on their shoulders made veins bulge on the colonel's forehead.
Australians? Here!?
"You bogans think you can just barge into—"
"Shut up and kneel! Hands up!"
The colonel's nose shattered against a rifle butt. He crumpled obediently to his knees. No chance to resist—one by one, US officers knelt and were bound.
What the fuck is happening?
Breathing ragged through his broken nose, the colonel scanned the room and spotted the one unbound US officer—the one who'd requested gate access.
What the fuck... A coup with the Australians?
Shit had gone sideways.
The Australian deputy commander squatted in front of the colonel.
"Order your deployed combat units to stand down. Tell them to attack Federal forces and support Australian 1st Company. Cancel designating 1st as traitors."
"Heh heh heh. Fuck off. Australians die here. 1st gets surrounded and wiped soon. You'll all get crushed by Federals too. Think securing command makes it your win? You underestimated the US Army. Even without officers, our troops fight independently, you fucks."
The colonel grinned vacantly. He'd die here, but he wouldn't betray John Friedman. To save his family, he had to die. All other spies in the base thought the same. No one would flip—they couldn't lose—
"Huh...?"
What the fuck? His own name crackled over the radio. The colonel's face went blank.
Friedman betraying them here? That wasn't in the calculus...
***
What the hell is this?
Min Cheol-woo scowled at John Friedman striding forward, hands raised high. He'd seemed ready to defend at first, then destroyed his own machine guns and had his men line up prone on the road, hands on heads.
Already sniffed out that fighting was hopeless? Surrendering without a last-ditch fight was pure parasite.
"I surrender. David Min. Your victory."
"..."
"You don't look pleased. Why? You get my bounty, become rich."
"What do you want? Looks like you've got surrender terms."
"No. Unconditional. But I have a deal to propose."
"..."
Knew it.
Cheol-woo bristled. Parasites had a knack for pissing people off.
"Spit it out."
"Even if I surrender now, Australians get wiped. 1st Company trapped in the hills under fire, annihilated. 2nd and rebels hole up in base, eventually fall. Base wasn't built for defense. We'd have assaulted if we wanted. Better to plant spies and use it."
"So?"
"Give me nuke codes, let me go. Then, as JSOC commander John Friedman, I'll order Federal disarmament and reveal the spy list."
"..."
Cheol-woo clenched his fist. Predictable offer.
US Army wasn't some ancient force crippled by losing the commander. If Friedman surrendered silent, Feds would keep fighting. Overwhelming numbers, spies inside—Australian and rebel wipeout certain.
To save them, take the deal.
But that handed nukes to a parasite.
Australian company lives versus hundreds of millions of Americans—which to pick?
No contest.
"Deal."
"David Min!?"
Bang!
A soldier lunging to stop him took a pistol round to the chest plate. He groaned, collapsing.
Cheol-woo turned without regret, approaching Friedman. A black card slipped from his pocket—unmistakable Biscuit, perfect engraving impossible to fake. Friedman swallowed hard.
"Destroy all vehicles but one bike. Need guarantee no pursuit."
"Done."
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Cheol-woo shot engines circling vehicles and bikes. Fueled the last bike, faced Friedman again. Silently handed over the card.
"You'll keep your word."
"Of course. But for safety, radio after departure."
"Get out of my sight. Soldiers dying right now."
"Congratulations. Thanks to you, Australia just dodged doom. Recommend fast return. US—especially West—might become unlivable."
"..."
Vroom! Friedman gunned the bike away.
The groaning soldier crawled, grabbing Cheol-woo's ankle.
"What have you done!? We don't care if we die! We came prepared for that! Supporting rebels, then handing nuke codes to Feds!?"
"Sorry. Shot 'cause you butted in. Couple busted ribs? Lie down, rest."
"That's not the point!? You saved us, doomed millions of Americans!"
"Am I crazy? Pick one? I pick both."
"...Pardon?"
What?
The soldier gaped. Then Friedman's voice crackled over the radio...
***
Vrooom.
John Friedman sighed in relief, glancing at David Min shrinking in the side mirror. No pursuit, no sniper shot. Because he hadn't ordered Federal surrender yet.
But if he reneged, Min would eventually drop him. Had to transmit soonish.
First, expose LA spies. Family hostages or not, useless now.
There—kept my word.
Friedman glanced back. During the broadcast, Min was a distant speck—out of sniper range.
My win.
He smirked, Biscuit between teeth. Snapped it—and instead of crack, a wet squelch.
What? Feels like... bond tearing?
Chilled, he yanked the inner paper scrap.
-Dumbass-
"David Min, you fucking—"
BOOM!
C4 in the bike's cargo exploded. John Friedman never finished.