Chapter 148
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 148
Chapter Title: Peep Show Grey (5)
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Everything turns into a serious problem. Winter felt pathetic.
“This can’t be taken over by the Ordnance Corps or AAFES? Regardless of the reason, these are supplies that made it all the way to the blockade line. I don’t get why they have to sell them to civilians.”
The Ordnance Corps handles both supply and relief. Every item crossing the blockade line passes through them somehow. Even if the gifts sent to Winter weren’t military-grade, the suitable ones could serve as relief supplies. The unsuitable rest could be handled at the BX. That was AAFES’s job.
(BX: Base Exchange. The commissary selling goods to soldiers and civilian employees.)
The question was aimed at Chadwick, but the reply came from behind.
“No choice. It’s realistically impossible.”
Turning around, it was an agent Winter didn’t recognize. She asks those around for permission and takes the seat next to him. The movie happened to restart right then. Chadwick was no longer looking at Winter. With the field agent here, he tosses out a word—ask her yourself—and falls silent.
The new agent winks and extends her hand.
“We’ve crossed paths a few times. Finally getting to introduce myself properly. Shannon, Shannon Kowalski.”
“Nice to meet you. As you probably know, Lieutenant Han Gyeowol.”
Winter remembered the feel of her handshake. His eyes trace the line from her wrist to the back of her hand. A habit for gauging combat ability. Her skin was soft, but her bones showed signs of training. Though just signs. Her last training or combat was quite some time ago.
He builds these guesses bit by bit. They might come in handy someday.
“Mind if I ask why it’s impossible?”
At Winter’s question, Kowalski gives a short answer.
“Administrative costs.”
Winter tilts his head. He has some idea. The first thing that comes to mind is the U.S. Army’s fuel supply system. They standardized all fuel as jet fuel. To cut supply procedures and time. Thanks to that, even tactical vehicles like Humvees run on jet fuel. They endure massive fuel cost increases for operational efficiency. In the end, it paid off. Lives were saved too.
But still a question. How many gifts could there be? Kowalski smiles.
“You look unconvinced.”
“Yeah, honestly. Doesn’t seem like it’s just a few warehouses.”
“Oh dear. A few warehouses? Sounds like you’re imagining something like private storage. You’re seriously underestimating yourself. Humble or out of touch...? From what I’ve seen, the former. You know what? When it was decided you’d deploy here, the agents here bet on what you’d be like in person.”
“Really? I figured Intel folks would know more about me than I do.”
“Ahaha! That’s a misunderstanding. Info on you is super sensitive. Not just anyone can access it. Maybe the Gibson supervisor who came with you. Our team lead wasn’t even interested. No one would spill if asked. That’s how the bet could happen.”
Kowalski speaks casually about her nearby boss. Chadwick himself shows no reaction. Winter glances at him and continues.
“I see. Get your kicks?”
“Nope. Lost. I expected a self-absorbed typical war hero. Oh, don’t get me wrong. Not dissing war heroes. But people who become special on fields where everyone risks their lives—they get trapped by their past, good or bad.”
“I get it. What you mean. Experiences where you nearly got erased cast shadows over your whole life.”
The words of a boy already erased once. Kowalski nods deeply.
“Plus, most people change when sudden fame hits. Some say it reveals true nature—total bullshit. People discover themselves through relationships. Fame forces new ones on you. Countless people who know you but you don’t know. Eyes watching you in spaces you can’t see. But the ‘you’ they expect isn’t the real you. You’re thrown in defenseless. On a strange stage where your old self can’t act... like that.”
She cuts herself off.
“Got carried away off-topic.”
“No. I could relate, actually. Nice to hear.”
“So nice of you.”
Social-scale affection and attention can turn violent. Even if it brings the person only joy, no pain. Plenty twist inside amid the happiness. The gap between past self and demanded self—that’s what it is.
Agent Kowalski speaks again.
“Back to your first question. The answer is 1.6 million.”
“Huh?”
“Total gift boxes to you over about half a year. That’s just the piled-up amount, they say. Warehouses overflowed, so they’re open-air stored. Probably still growing. Deliveries delay weeks these days. Postal service goes without saying. They’re backed up along the logistics chain. Luckily, some will vanish.”
“...”
Winter is speechless.
This wasn’t his first fame like this. But back then, the nation wasn’t as stable. Accounting for that, he’d estimated max ten thousand. Not a hundred times that.
“Sorting by item type must be a hassle.”
Kowalski affirms.
“Yeah. Outsourcing valuation to civilians isn’t just for objectivity. They handle everything from sorting to sale-ready. Even if DoD handles sales, they’d just oversee. Ordnance has no manpower for side gigs.”
She shrugs.
“Above all, they’re pushing supply plans for ten million soldiers. McNamara’s office has casualties daily, I hear.”
That he understands. Short-term inefficiency can be long-term efficiency. Especially in huge organizations.
The Ordnance Corps was familiar to Winter. Back when he hadn’t stacked enough rounds, a half-baked superhuman, he’d passed through a civilian transport company (CTC) into Ordnance temporarily. Rear war was a fight against overwork.
‘Desperate to secure independent combat forces.’
Though under Ordnance, Winter’s role was combatant. Supply procurement needed firepower from the start due to quarantine breaches everywhere. Other units wouldn’t spare troops. They were dying too. Panicked command rarely issued proper orders.
A new experience. Watching the apocalypse approach from the rear.
“I think I know what to do.”
Kowalski perks up at Winter’s words.
“Mind sharing?”
“First thought was to ask for volunteers when recording. Like you said, I’m popular. But soon realized no. Backlash everywhere. Era where many set aside consciences temporarily.”
“Temporarily...? Funny way to put it. You see people kindly.”
The intel agent’s eyes shine more. Now more people look away from the movie. No—only Chadwick remains as viewer. Fist clenched, enjoying it.
Per Kowalski, gifts to Winter back up nationwide beyond the blockade. So once his letters and voice go public, deliveries stop, local eval and distribution happen. Volunteer efforts at dozens, maybe hundreds of sites—would they stay volunteer to the end?
Current U.S. society was dry haystack. Wrong spark hastens end. Butterfly effect. Low odds, but caution hurts none.
Winter continues.
“If civilians involved, fees mean profits needed. Separate budget for them is still admin costs. With full focus on liberation ops now, no slack elsewhere.”
“Probably?”
“Then my discretion’s all that’s left.... Might donate it all. To the Defense Fund or refugee relief. Personally, the former.”
“Wow.”
New voice chimes in. Oliver Talbot. The tactical intel analyst who helped Winter’s disguise. He asks, baffled.
“Serious? We’d have to open to see contents, but even $1 each is 1.6 million. Factoring discards, way more. Rivals Mega Millions, Powerball jackpots. You’re saying give it up?”
Mega Millions, Powerball top prizes usually over ten million. Direct compare no, jackpots hit half billion sometimes. Good metaphor for life-changer.
Winter replies.
“What would I do with it?”
Onlookers react with disbelief. Agent Talbot speaks incredulously.
“What the.... No thought to reward for hardship? Even if post-retirement. No greed? Could lobby at least? Seemed you care for Roberts comrades. Could improve their long-term conditions.”
“No. Better to send a message to the world.”
Top war hero donates fortune. News solidifies his position. Value beyond money. Keeping some unwise. Full donation feels different from partial.
Winter also expects.
‘Improving refugee opinion sways upcoming election some.’
Defense Fund over relief same reason. Relief looks like rice-bowl grab. At least to his haters.
If world heads worst future, vulgarity norm, crazies claim Han Gyeowol never truly American citizen.
“Yes!”
Reverie breaks. Arms up cheering: Kowalski. Joyfully shouts again.
“This time I win!”
Others sour-faced, some sighing. Talbot too. Covers face, hunches.
“Damn....”
Winter gets it, forces awkward smile mindful of surroundings. Asks happy Kowalski.
“Enough to recoup losses?”
“And then some. Odds way higher this time.”
“...”
She beams.
Even Chadwick, seeming movie-focused, speaks to Winter.
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”
Winter feels off.