Chapter 100
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 100
Chapter Title: Spark, Fort Roberts (3)
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“Anyway, I’ll pass.”
Winter flatly refused both offers. Yet the regimental commander couldn’t seem to let it go. Stroking his chin, he let out a sigh after a moment.
“As a fresh second lieutenant, I wanted to be just like you. When I was a company commander and then a battalion commander, I hoped for a subordinate like you. Even right up until coming here, I thought the same. But now that I have you under my command, my thinking’s changed.”
“What do you mean, sir?”
“Hmm… Since you’re the type to turn down the easy path for the hard one, I’ll be frank. A subordinate like you… is a burden even to a commanding officer. Don’t take that the wrong way—I don’t dislike you at all.”
The regimental commander elaborated over his dark tea.
“Can you guess how far up this matter has gone?”
“No idea, sir.”
“You returned yesterday afternoon. Since the DoD’s public affairs office has been keeping tabs on you, I sent over a copy of your combat record before the official report to headquarters. Then this morning, a direct line from the White House came in. They were asking about your condition. Said they needed confirmation before reporting up.”
“…”
“I get it. That place is the nerve center for managing public opinion. Keeping the public calm is crucial. You can’t fight up front with an unstable rear. But put yourself in my shoes. Sure, you’re a war hero, but you’re still my subordinate. And now the White House is concerned about one of my troops’ well-being. It’s awkward for any commander.”
Winter nodded.
“I understand why you’d feel burdened, sir. Thank you for being honest.”
“No need to thank me. Truth be told, I shouldn’t even be telling you this. A soldier’s job is to give their all on the battlefield. They don’t need to worry about anything else—that’s what guys like me are for. But I’m saying this anyway for a reason.”
The colonel pointed to himself.
“I’m worried I might treat you unfairly somehow. You know, that unconscious discrimination—good or bad.”
“Just hearing you say that makes me think there’s nothing to worry about, sir.”
“No. Look at me.”
In the dim room, the colonel’s dark skin blended into the shadows. Only the whites of his eyes stood out.
“I’m Black. There are only two Black colonels serving in combat units in the Army, including me. What that means is I’ve faced my share of unfair treatment. Of course, it was never overt discrimination. Every instance came with a ‘reasonable’ excuse.”
Letting a war hero die could be just another reasonable excuse. After a brief hesitation, Winter used Discernment on the man’s demeanor, weighed it, and spoke bluntly.
“You’re actually worried you might face unfair treatment yourself, sir.”
“You really don’t pull punches.”
The dark-skinned colonel voiced a mild complaint. It was lighthearted, the sociable kind that vanished quickly.
“I’m still the kind of sellout who wants his stars in this world. But I don’t fancy turning victim into perpetrator. If it were a serious worry, I wouldn’t be spilling it like this. Consider this my own resolve. Get my meaning?”
“Yes, sir.”
The gaze of others helped keep one in check. That was the point.
“Good. Then you’ll remain my subordinate going forward. I’ll report it that way up top.”
“Appreciate it, even if it’s stating the obvious, sir.”
Winter gave a light bow. The colonel leaned forward over the table, patted the boy officer’s shoulder, and pulled back. He reclined fully in his chair, more relaxed than before.
“If you ever change your mind, just say the word. I’ll send you off bittersweetly. They’re waiting for you up top anyway.”
“Sorry, sir. Doesn’t seem likely anytime soon.”
The colonel smiled.
“One last thing before you get back to work. Be a little more careful. When they say people live on hope, you’re already the hope for a lot of lives.”
Winter heard the final words as poetic.
The regimental commander pulled a new document from his desk. It was an operations report drafted in Winter’s name. He handed it over silently, so Winter read it quietly and soon nodded.
“I just need to make edits?”
Colonel Rafflin looked pleased.
“Quick on the uptake. I like that.”
“Not a good situation, though, sir. You said it could even change administrations. With the next one likely gunning for us, shouldn’t we be careful with the records?”
“Huh.”
The colonel let out a light exclamation and countered.
“See anything that needs fixing?”
Winter recalled the grim Black Mountain. To the left of the road, a grayish body lay sunk in a puddle. The mutant, dormant on purpose, had awakened at the boy’s touch, flapped wildly, and died.
“I have one suggestion for higher-ups, sir.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“Mutants can’t cross water, but they can suppress their metabolism to delay drowning. You’d have seen it in my footage. I’m worried the other mutants might use metabolic suppression to cross water. That’d put maritime refugees at risk first, then places blocking mutants with water like San Diego’s North Island.”
“You’re right. But no need to add it separately.”
“Why not, sir?”
“The DoD isn’t twiddling its thumbs. A staffer raised the same point earlier. Ever heard? There’s a department that reviews all possibilities. It’s probably been disseminated to the maritime refugees already. We were planning to pass it on in the next regular briefing anyway.”
“Then I’m relieved. Unnecessary worry on my part.”
“No such thing as unnecessary worry these days. Never skip submitting your thoughts.”
“Yes, sir.”
The rest of the report was adequate. Traces of effort to filter out sensational phrasing at the word level were visible. Nothing contradicted the facts, likely verified with that in mind. Winter read it through once slowly, skimmed it again quickly, then set it down.
“I’ve fully reviewed what I supposedly wrote.”
“…You’re not too mature for your age, are you?”
The colonel folded the report and slipped it into an envelope.
Winter decided to ask one thing.
“Sir. One question.”
“Go ahead.”
“What happened to the special mutant that my squad and Hernandez took down last?”
“Oh, that. I was going to cover it in the regular briefing, but I get why you’d be curious as the one who hunted it.”
The colonel continued casually.
“The DoD code for it is ‘Humpback.’ Unfortunately, you’re not the first to spot it. There were a few sightings before your report. It always travels with large mutant groups, so they weren’t confirmed. But this is the first confirmed kill on record.”
“So it’s unconfirmed.”
“Can’t be helped. Back-to-back typhoons have cut comms to some outposts. Some Rangers sent to scout infected zones chased a Humpback and have been MIA since. Those things have brains made of muscle—no fear at all. One platoon cut comms saying they ‘couldn’t hear’ orders to withdraw. Makes you wonder if they really couldn’t.”
Winter thought of the Santa Maria Rangers platoon. Spotting civilians, they’d charged in immediately—permission came after. Could it be that platoon again? Winter wrapped it neutrally.
“Probably their Ranger pride mixed with a sense of duty.”
“Gathering intel on new mutants is important, sure. But still…”
From the regimental commander’s perspective, it was hard to see favorably.
Still, the U.S. military respected field commanders’ judgment. Advancing against orders beat retreating against them.
‘Above all, well-trained officers know when to disobey.’
That was possible when even the lowliest soldier understood the mission. When forced to retreat by the enemy, Marines yelling “No retreat! Charge!” were prime examples. They assessed odds and picked meaningful strikes in their own way.
The conversation had drifted. Winter steered it back.
“Any analysis on the yellow fluid? The troops were worried about a biochemical attack.”
“Hahaha. Impatient. It’s only been a day since the medical team recovered the body. No way results are out already.”
“Rumors could spread from witnesses.”
“Already warned them. Not foolproof, but I threatened to grill every op participant if word leaks. They’ll watch themselves.”
Would that suffice? Winter was certain the substance wasn’t toxic. But the troops wouldn’t be reassured. Especially since the Salinas River was Fort Roberts’ water source. The filthy liquid trickling down the slope was plenty to fuel grim hypotheticals.
Of course, the spot wasn’t positioned to seriously contaminate the river. But assuming it as an attack vector, skeptics wouldn’t touch water for a while.
“Speaking of which, I heard something odd.”
The regimental commander tented his fingers under his chin.
“That fluid you saw? The recovery team said barely any was left. Compared to the massive amount in your helmet cam. They even requested a GPS recheck.”
“It died on a slope, sir. Maybe it flowed off somewhere?”
“Who knows. From reviewing the footage, it looked pretty viscous. Even if it flowed, there should’ve been plenty of traces. Did it evaporate? Mysterious.”
Winter had no guesses either.
Time had passed noticeably.
“Dinner’s soon. Let’s wrap the rest quickly.”
The rest? Winter looked puzzled, but the regimental commander slid over an envelope.
“This is the recommendation letter for the military government’s civil affairs committee I mentioned earlier. It was supposed to go to the base commander, but you’re better at picking from the refugees than me.”
At first glance, it wasn’t pure goodwill. Whatever gains or losses came from this, Winter would bear them. Empowering Winter while…
‘Making me the target of resentment from those who think it’s unfair.’
Hard to keep the selection process secret forever? The picks alone would be easy to Discern. Still, Winter took the envelope without resentment. The benefits outweighed.
“You don’t look thrilled.”
“Rights come with responsibilities, sir.”
“I see. Everyone calls you precocious, and I’m feeling it multiple times today. Glad to know you better personally.”
“Did you decide this, sir?”
The regimental commander or higher? He answered easily.
“No way. U.S. foreign policy’s always been like this. Back a reliable local leader hard. We bled buckets in Afghanistan picking wrong. But you’re already a U.S. citizen, so less risk for the top brass.”
Winter recalled reading about it—probably an early journal.
Colonel Rafflin added,
“If you’d taken the inspectorate role, no recommendation letter. Staying in combat proves your purity, in their eyes. That was guidance from above too.”
Sharing this much was the colonel’s show of trust. Winter chose a formal, safe reply.
“I’ll strive not to betray expectations.”
“Impressive. Room for more effort there?”
The regimental commander smiled faintly and adjusted his posture.
“Last item. It’s also an order from above.”
Winter tilted his head slightly.
“Combat orders, sir?”
“I said from the start it wasn’t.”
Quick denial, then continuation.
“One of the soldiers who died in the op has family in the base’s civilian sector. I’d like you at the memorial to fold the flag for them.”
Here, the flag meant the one draped over the fallen’s casket. U.S. military memorials included folding and presenting it to next of kin. Winter asked,
“Isn’t that the chaplain’s role, sir?”
“Commanders do it sometimes.”
The answer was insufficient. Winter raised another objection.
“I hear it has religious meaning. I don’t believe in God. It’d disrespect the deceased and hurt the family.”
“No worries. Chaplain’ll be there opposite you. Family agreed, and I doubt PFC Page disliked you.”
Winter got it.
“This’ll be broadcast too, huh.”
“They want you and the flag in the same shot. With you working for refugees, some idiots still call you a fake American. Understand. On stormy days, you keep the spark from going out.”
It was an order anyway—no refusal. Just one question.
“Need practice beforehand. Who do I learn from?”
“Chaplain’ll contact you.”
The colonel stood.
“That’s all. Thanks for the long talk. Let’s head out. Dinner together if you’re free?”
“Yes, sir.”
Winter gathered the papers and left the HQ with the regimental commander.
No rain on the way, but the sky hung heavy with wet gray.
The wind was turning fierce again.
============================ Author's Note ============================
#Tunguska
Various guesses about the author have popped up. As a 100th chapter milestone, I’ll answer true/false one by one.
-Probably a ROK-U.S. combined forces or U.S. military vet.
False. I’m from the eventful 22nd Infantry Division. Comments saying it feels like one made me happy—means the research is solid.
-Lives in the U.S.
False. Farthest I’ve flown is Jeju Island... Sad...
-Popular with women.
False. Wanna get scolded?
-486 generation. (…)
False... Do I look like I’m in my 50s? I’m just turning 30...
-Posts on Ilbe. (…)
False. Author avoids all SNS and communities to steer clear of drama.
#Q&A
Q. hendell: Protagonist used Korean age when introducing to Principal Hamill, mistake? And what are other special forces doing besides Rangers?
A. Just said 17, no Korean age clue, right?
Other spec ops... who knows...
Q. rumen: @If human economic/social activity stops, hazardous/toxic substances spread uncontrolled worldwide. Factories, power plants, etc., leaking chemicals... How’s that handled?
A. Some withdrew properly and contained; others became contaminated zones.