Chapter 132
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 132
Chapter Title: Angel Island (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The destination was another pier north of the base. The vehicle slid north along the road hugging the beach. Small beaches flashed past outside the window. Red buoys rising and falling on the waves. They've laid mines. Winter surmised why they weren't departing from the southern pier.
‘The roads must be a wreck. No different from a city expanded without any planning.’
A massive city where all sorts of boats had anchored in disorder. Streets flowing and shifting in real time. The paths threading through couldn't possibly be normal.
The base's northern edge was sealed off by a single line of wall. Stacked containers. In the deepening darkness, the rusted logos layered high evoked the end of an era. Soldiers patrolled atop it. No lights, no railings—it looked incredibly dangerous. Winter tilted his head. He briefly summoned night vision.
Sure enough. The entire wall illuminated by light beyond visible spectrum.
“Unexpected. I figured we'd take a helicopter from here.”
Joanna voiced her question. Direct flight to the CIA outpost was impossible. But hopping to Angel Island should have been fine. Why take a boat again? Lieutenant Barker answered.
“Ah, I heard that was the original plan. But it's not possible now.”
“Why?”
“They overworked it hauling containers until it turned to scrap. The maintenance crew threw in the towel ages ago. Parts juggling hit its limit. Something like, riding that's the same as entrusting your life to luck? And they forced it into service during the typhoon, so no more.”
“The typhoon why...”
“The wall collapsed. Alert status. No crashes was a miracle.”
“Ah.”
Joanna nodded. San Francisco was a city prone to wind and flood damage.
One of those helicopters sat near the pier. Wings drooping meekly. It looked fine on the surface. But parking it this close to the sea meant they had no intention of maintaining it anymore.
The lieutenant cut the engine.
“Out you go. Time to switch rides.”
He led the way across the beach. Footsteps crunched. Trash washed up by the waves. Sand and water all but invisible. Just the rippling side was sea, the still side land. Winter frowned. Faint gunpowder stench wafting from somewhere. He turned toward it—beyond the windbreak trees, a mound black as twilight.
Once more, Joanna wore a troubled expression.
“With all this flotsam, won't we run into trouble on the way?”
The lieutenant brushed it off.
“That's why an extra boat's coming along as escort and backup. In this nauseating sea, those nets they set to catch fish are the biggest headache. They won't clean up if they break. Tied to buoys, just floating around... Engines and props have taken a beating. Warnings do no good.”
Grumbling came with it. Operational boats down to half or less.
Two patrol boats stood ready. Both small. About 47 feet long (14.6 meters). The kind that bounces across the water when accelerating. Winter said nothing, but the lieutenant hurried to explain.
“Nothing but these can navigate the alleys in that shithole. Anything mid-size or larger struggles to swing its bow in an emergency...”
Winter cut him off.
“I see. Alleys, you say?”
“Ah. Local slang. Like punks lurking in the backstreets.”
It fit.
A speedboat needed four crew. But Winter's boat already had a full squad waiting. All layered in bulletproof vests over life jackets. As Winter boarded, they snapped to attention. Sergeant Lazaro led him inside.
“Into the cabin, sir. Bulletproof glass means you'll be safe no matter what.”
“Engagements happen often?”
“Not often... They know we're their lifeline. Though a boat did go missing a few months back. Culprit still unknown. Bastards. Should've made an example...”
Lieutenant Barker curled his lip.
“Hey. Can't sacrifice innocents for that.”
The lieutenant's reaction alone made clear what sort of example the sergeant had in mind.
Winter stood in the cabin with Joanna. No seats. Just handholds.
The two speedboats got underway. The thick sea parted. Thunk, plunk, thunk. Hard objects bouncing off the bow. Soldiers manning the deck machine-gun mounts scanned constantly. Joanna asked the lieutenant.
“What about the weapons and ammo from the Corona Triumph?”
“Ah, we'll transport that separately later. No way right now.”
“Damn. Includes some specially requested gear.”
She frowned but said no more.
The course curved repeatedly. The paths naturally formed in the city of dead ships were close to a maze. No hindrance thanks to the high-tech gear fitted to even these small boats. Winter eyed the gray shadows reflecting in the cockpit. Wide-angle infrared monitor. Remarkably sharp.
'America, alright...'
But pushing speed was tough. Flotsam aside, passing boats were trouble. Rusty small craft amazing they still floated. Wooden ones too. What the hell were they even doing out there.
The nearby island crept closer agonizingly slow.
A shirtless man on the deck of a Chinese freighter dead ahead stared this way. Burly frame covered in tattoos. Rusty cleaver tucked in his belt. Showed white on infrared.
“Filthy Chinky bastard. Should drop those on sight.”
Sergeant Lazaro's curse. He'd been on edge for a while. Joanna shot him a sour look. Winter sensed her concern—that the sergeant's hate wasn't staining the whole U.S. force here.
Separate from that worry, the odds of that knife-toting man being normal were vanishingly low. His bloated gut alone screamed raider.
The man grinned. Machine-gun sights swung his way, but he ignored it, hand in his pants scratching his junk. Pulled it out, sniffed, grimaced with a drawn-out “ugh”—blatant provocation.
Farther on, the path narrowed. Not that the waterway vanished, but rowboats and planks closing from both sides. Ragged folk paddling by hand.
“Stay back! Don't come closer!”
Deck soldiers barked in every direction. Threatening gestures clear regardless of language.
But the ragged didn't back off easily. Expressionless. No bids for pity, just silent approach with hands out. Anything given was fine; nothing given, resigned acceptance.
Beggars, no doubt. Whatever you gave would be stolen. Devour it on the spot, and they wouldn't last the night.
The one showing emotion amid them was a mother. From the stern of a packed rowboat, she cast a pleading gaze. Frail, she tried shoving through the unyielding crowd several times. Fell squeezing for gaps. All the while cradling her baby precious.
Joanna's eyes met hers. The mother lifted her child as if to say, take him. The baby worked its mouth like it might cry. No sound came. The cabin's enclosure? Or the starved infant lacked the strength. The skeletal child resembled death.
Lieutenant Barker glanced back.
“Don't look. Only hurts.”
“I know.”
Her reply surprisingly steady. The FBI agent had dutifully accepted reality's limits. But her blinking eyes held lingering emotion; she wiped them with a fingertip. Muttered like to herself.
“Compassion you can't back is better left ungiven.”
She couldn't take the child. Could she even raise it herself? Best was handing it off right here to someone besides Winter. Fort Baker might have room for one kid.
'But that's just shoving the cost of a good deed onto others. Irresponsible.'
From the baby's view, that irresponsible good might be better. Or staying with mom. Who could know the future. A life without love was bleak. Sometimes harder than death.
As another principal, Winter figured there was no right answer.
The island loomed suddenly close.
Emotionally endless, physically brief one-way trip's end. Soldiers inured to emotional labor showed no wear. In that time, Joanna moved sluggishly. Steps of one leaving regrets behind. Motherhood wasn't wedlock's monopoly. From experience, not inborn either.
Winter thought of his own mother. Recalled the world before.
“Anne.”
“Yes, Winter.”
“Don't you think people grown used to tragedy are sadder than the tragedy itself?”
“...You're right. That's frightening.”
“Good you're not used to it yet.”
Joanna let out a deflated laugh.
“God, haven't been this embarrassed in ages.”
She shook her head and quickened her pace. Lieutenant Barker waited with the Humvee.
The Humvee convoy raced north across the island.
The sub waited at a base too.
At the entrance, Lieutenant Barker bid farewell.
“Just head in. I'll head back from here.”
“Ah, yes. Thanks for your trouble. Stay healthy till we meet again.”
To Winter's courtesy, the lieutenant made an odd gesture. Index and middle fingers together, ring and pinky together, hand spread.
“Long life and prosperity to you both.”
Star Trek or something? Winter mirrored it, and the lieutenant beamed. The FBI agent beside sighed.
============================ 작품 후기 ============================
몸이 조금 좋지 않아 후기는 생략하겠습니다. 다음에 답변드릴게요. :)