Chapter 150
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 150
Chapter Title: Peep Show Grey (7)
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Paradoxically, disobedience to orders was a hallmark of a fine soldier.
This wasn't just about the right to resist inhuman commands. The better the army, the more it respected flexibility in the field. During the Korean War, when MacArthur made a fatal misjudgment, a single division commander's defiance saved countless lives. Afterward, through Vietnam, America adapted to the uncertainties of the battlefield.
On the other hand, during the Iraq War, Saddam Hussein's Republican Guard exemplified the opposite. There were units that stayed silent even as American forces passed right in front of them—because they lacked permission to engage. Orders always came too late.
The U.S. military was a flexible organization. How the mission was accomplished was usually decided on the ground.
'It was a heavy burden at first.'
The memory of bearing responsibility for every decision.
Though he was only a lieutenant now, in the accumulated pages of the apocalypse, Winter's highest rank had been major. It was a field promotion made on the fly. The world had been that precarious. Yet those who fulfilled their duties to the very end were the real deal—the essence of the U.S. military. Winter had been among them several times. He'd learned a lot. Not systematized knowledge, but tacit knowledge. Experience passed from person to person.
Would he ever reunite with Ranger Company again?
Winter pondered. Pinnacle National Park was 80 kilometers south of their current position. At a normal marching pace, it was a gap that could close in two days. Even accounting for terrain, it wasn't far.
But the chances were low. This was a pursuit crossing contaminated zones in small units. The San Francisco metro area was dangerous too. Captain Emert wouldn't drive his quarry north.
In the meantime, Agent Kowalski sifted through the pile of documents. Amid the scattering papers, she pulled out a laptop. The power was already on. Tap, tap-tap-tap. The jaunty sound of typing. Moments later, she turned the screen toward Winter. Captain Emert appeared, prone among the bushes. It was a still image. Click. A finger with a cigarette pressed the enter key. Time began to flow in the video.
The captain was speaking with a superior.
"Withdraw? Sir, just send us supplies. Didn't you yourself emphasize the importance of this mission? You said it could be the key to deciding the fate of the quarantine war."
"It was only a possibility. Upper command is growing more skeptical by the day. Some say it's just a food truck. The prevailing guess is it's not a biochemical weapon carrier. It's been a while since its first appearance, hasn't it? And Humpback hasn't shown up on any battlefield since."
"It's still an unknown enemy. With liberation so close, do you plan to leave this loose end?"
"Satellite surveillance and air recon are enough. Especially satellites—we have more than we know what to do with. We can track its position almost in real time. Even if we don't know what it is, we can prepare for the worst."
"That won't matter if the prey bolts into the forests and mountains. We need to hunt it on the ground together. Damn it, are we turning back after coming this far? We don't have any other urgent missions that need us right now anyway. Those half-dead bastards don't have supply depots, HQs, or presidential palaces."
"But we have the runways and ammo dumps we left behind."
"Sir, forgive me, but we need to save time. Make it clear. If you truly think this mission is unnecessary, we'll pull out. But if not, you don't need to worry about the risks we're taking."
"You're really okay with that? Your unit's down to half strength."
"That means you're sending ammo. Send us the coordinates and timing. As you know, you'll need to repeat it over long intervals. There's constant radio jamming nearby. We're moving out now to evade pursuit. I'll contact you again when it's quiet. Emert out."
The recording ended abruptly. Thud. Agent Kowalski closed the laptop.
If the unit had been at half strength ten days ago, there might be no one left alive now. Even if not, they wouldn't be in good shape. Ten days on a single supply drop was tough. Winter imagined himself in that situation. It wasn't impossible. Avoid combat, secure food somehow.
There was also the chance they'd deliberately skipped resupply to minimize exposure.
Crackle. The cigarette burned quickly. Kowalski coughed dryly.
"You didn't need to rush on our account."
At Winter's words, the agent wiped her eyes and replied.
"You're making me tense saying that. Anyway, thanks. For giving me some breathing room."
It wasn't his intention, but no need to correct the misunderstanding.
Kowalski fiddled with her hair. Slow movements. She seemed troubled.
"Let me apologize first. But it was necessary."
"Specifically?"
"Call it an adaptation process."
Adaptation process? Winter tilted his head, and the agent licked her dry lips.
"Contacting Chinese officers often involves drinking parties. Usually with sex involved. Who knows, maybe they were filthy players even before the disaster. Probably. Anyway, now the intent is clear. They want to absorb Orca Black. Starting from individuals. Women are the means."
"Won't bringing in outsiders make them uneasy?"
"Not at all. Internal faction fights are brutal. Smiling by day, killing by night. They can't trust even their inner circle, so they look outside. Specifically, they're enchanted by the myth of Orca Black. We've been loyal mercenaries on the surface, at least. We never betrayed a client until the contract ended. One strike team even crushed a faction war on behalf of a client."
Kowalski muttered that it had been a truly horrific incident.
Winter had received the activity logs as briefing material. The eight who shared their client's fate were from the 24th Special Tactics Squadron, on par with DEVGRU.
Orca Black's current reputation rivaled medieval Swiss mercenaries. Superior combat prowess and high reliability.
"Once contracted, we don't waver even if an enemy offers more. That's not suspicious. It just drives up our price."
The logs confirmed it. The Chinese general who forced those operatives to their deaths reached out the very next day. He wanted to hire even more. Winter recalled the details.
'At least infighting to the death is rare among allies.'
It wasn't nonexistent.
It was an inevitable process to build trust. It made infiltration into various factions easier.
The agent's explanation continued.
"Anyway, it's gotten more frequent lately. Calling us out, getting us drunk, sending women. The guys say it's hard to refuse when it's forced. Something about losing face if you reject a gift."
"I get what you mean by adaptation process."
"I don't know how you'll take this, but some men turn into fools over women. Sometimes very simply. Mixing bodies and feeling love."
In other words, they worried Winter might waver. Even if he didn't fall, he might slip a word, or get swept up in pity and try to protect her.
"You're young to begin with, Lieutenant... uh, very young. No immunity. And you might be lonely inside. If you'd partied in the red-light districts like the others, I'd feel better."
She was holding back, but there was more. They'd analyzed Winter's movements, no doubt. How would the objective report on the Winter Alliance's formation read? Retracing his footprints in this world, Winter asked.
"Putting me aside, what about you, Agent Kowalski?"
"Pardon?"
"Just that—was that reason enough for you?"
"Ah."
The agent replied nonchalantly.
"I told you, half of it was sincere. Seize the day. In a world that could end anytime, isn't it a loss not to enjoy the now? Besides, you're the sexiest man in America right now. No reason to say no."
"No way."
"You don't believe me."
"Height, build—plenty of reasons."
Kowalski burst into laughter. A clear laugh that briefly dissolved the tension.
"Good lord. You're an idol, Lieutenant. One who soothes primal anxieties. In this era, no man could make someone feel as at ease as you. Probably."
The agent added that despite his face being a mess right now. Winter touched up his special makeup. From experience, it wouldn't fade noticeably even after a week. He maintained it periodically, but even without, it should hold for up to a month.
"Shall we hear the other reason now?"
Winter's words drew a deep sigh from the intel agent.
"I don't know what you're guessing, but I can't say more."
She didn't deny there was more. This level of candor was already beyond expectations.
"Here."
Kowalski handed over a box smaller than her palm. Winter took it curiously and opened it. A ring. Not cheap junk—fine craftsmanship and gem.
"What's this?"
"A wedding ring."
"Hm, camouflage."
"Your judgment's sharp today. Yes. Wear it always. Spread some rumors too. Say you can't forget your late wife—what can they do? Even rejected, they save face. Easier to gain trust human-to-human."
"Is the wife's name set?"
"No, not yet. Didn't think we'd actually give it to you. Wait a day. Name, age, hometown, family—basics, plus anniversary, couple fights memories, all fabricated."
With a fake identity in his early twenties, a marriage history wouldn't raise flags.
Winter tried it on. Perfect fit on his left ring finger. The intel agency's power, indeed.
"What's inside the ring?"
"Nothing."
"Can I step on it?"
"Go ahead. After what I did, I can't ask for trust."
It'd be a shame if it broke, but oh well. The agent nodded readily. Winter didn't remove it. He just held it to the light. It gleamed platinum under the room lamps. Kowalski watched quietly, then spoke.
"Unexpected."
"What?"
"You're so calm, Lieutenant. Abnormally so. Like a horror movie scene that's eerily quiet..."
An unusually frank expression for an intel agent. Maybe an effort to win favor.
'Nothing beats truth as prep for a lie.'
Finding reeds in a reedbed was impossible.
"If I'm to get angry, how far should I direct my blame?"
Winter's question. Not expecting an answer. Tap, tap, tap. Fingertips drumming the table, Kowalski waited silently. Her words here would affect her future treatment. No need for lies—just the truth. Winter continued.
"If I only blame you, Agent Kowalski, it'd be ridiculous. Should I take it up with Team Leader Chadwick? He planned or approved it, at least."
"That'd feel normal."
"Maybe. But I see it as realpolitik. 'This far is acceptable.' I'm not sure. Say it's the team leader's idea. Is this unusual in the CIA?"
"No. Couldn't even say so as empty flattery."
Winter knew how the agency trained agents. Stories from the previous world.
Special agents endure inhuman experiences in training. Sometimes trainees don't know it's training. Kidnapped and tortured to spill secrets. Talking means expulsion. Silence means pass.
Not every agent goes through it. But its acceptance matters.
"As expected."
Rarely was fault solely one person's.
Winter's attitude toward hatred had been consistent from past to present.
"Team Leader Chadwick just acted as a CIA agent. So should I resent the agency? But the agency doesn't act without reason. Where do I draw the line?"
"I get what you're saying. You're very unique. Hard to empathize."
The agent seemed wary. Winter didn't see himself as normal either. That's why he said it.
"It's human limits. I don't want to be someone who can only get angry and nothing else."
Anger that changes nothing just destroys oneself.
The stone was always there.
When unwanted posthumous existence ended, he hoped his heart remained. It was hard. As confessed to the masked counselor.
Kowalski relaxed and said.
"Not sure. But it relieves me. Whether your words are true or not."
At least he wouldn't botch things on emotion. That was the context.
She spoke again.
"Excuse the lame excuse, but I want to say this. Intel agents have lived glimpsing apocalypse since before the plague. People with fragile tomorrows change strangely. Like this mad world now."
She paused, then continued.
"When I first joined, my senior said a brave Soviet officer prevented the world from ending on September 26, 1983. The world is more fragile than imagined, and sometimes one person stops the end. 'You be that one to guard tomorrow. But you'll have to give up a lot...'"
"Noble resolve. Good person?"
"Hardly. In the CIA, the only good agents are dead ones, Lieutenant."
A self-deprecating joke laced with pride.
The conversation wrapped up. Winter wrote model answers on blank paper. Recorded them in his altered voice. Transmitting wouldn't take long. As he headed out of the comms room, Kowalski's voice called from behind.
"Just in case."
He turned. The agent grinned playfully.
"If you change your mind, say the word anytime."
Saying it wouldn't happen would hurt. Winter replied with a suitable smile.
============================ Author's Note ============================
#Chat
Chat is next chapter. Sorry if you were expecting it. Haha.
#Q&A
Q. Nayuta-nim: @Can a user's trauma be healed by TOM-made AI??
A. Depending on the case.
Q. Tarnis-nim: @Even if Chadwick made the call, I can't understand just letting it slide... It's blatant human rights violation and sexual harassment, right? Even if natural, if he's uncomfortable with evidence, it's lawsuit material. Trying with drugs? No contest. Even in ops where much is ignored, not to that extent. For an ally, not enemy. Of course, Lt. Han Gyeowol wouldn't...
A. In covert ops, much is ignored, even more than that. Gibson the overseer would protest strongly if he knew, but upper levels would smooth it over.
Q. Sunlight Shard-nim: Reading Tarnis's comment... Thinking again, isn't this attempted rape? Winter's male, opponent's female, and described so calmly I glossed over, but they planned to drug and go for it? Plus Winter has trauma from forced relations—how's he so calm? Should be more than angry... Is it 'cause it's a game? But doesn't Winter treat her as human...? What?
A. Yes, attempted rape. If it went further, even Winter would've snapped. As a kid dreaming beyond limits, he restrains himself since he stopped it preemptively.