Chapter 172
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 172
Chapter Title: Vertical and Horizontal Alliances, San Francisco (7)
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The briefing started with good news.
“We’ve finally got the Chinese Beidou system in our hands.”
Nathan Chadwick said this with a sleepy grin plastered across his face.
The Chinese Beidou—he meant the Beidou satellites. A system developed for military use, identical in function to GPS. It played a role in the terminal guidance phase of submarine-launched ballistic missiles.
The projector screen showed the satellites’ positions in real time. It even displayed the locations of old Chinese naval vessels receiving those satellite signals. Among them, a particularly prominent red dot inside San Francisco Bay stood out. Chadwick pointed right at it.
“This success is thanks to Point Charlie 854, codename Sirius, getting infected with the Trojan horse. A lookup of the Trojan’s unique ID revealed our lucky winner: Lieutenant Han Gyeowol. That USB you slipped into the submarine before. If you don’t mind, how about a round of applause for him, everyone.”
It came out of nowhere. Winter received the cheers from the room. Some were genuinely delighted, others weary and indifferent, and finally, a bunch who looked awkward or outright displeased. The last group was the largest, which wasn’t hard to understand. After all, Winter was still a newcomer here.
“Congratulations, Lieutenant. Stealing an entire satellite network is a hell of a feat. You might even get a medal out of this—an Intelligence Cross. Oh, I’m not just saying that. Word from upstairs is they’re reviewing it positively. Pretty much a done deal.”
Someone whistled. Turning around, Winter saw Oliver Talbot. The tactical intelligence analyst with deep brown skin. Thanks to the special makeup he often wore, he was one of the more familiar faces among the standoffish CIA agents.
Winking from beside him was Agent Shannon Kowalski, the communications security officer who’d built the Trojan. Winter felt a twinge of suspicion. Shouldn’t her name be mentioned too, if they were talking merits? It felt contrived. Shifting his gaze, he asked Chadwick.
“Is the Intelligence Cross really handed out that easily? And I’m not even with the Intelligence Agency.”
In any agency, a Cross medal ranked just below the Medal of Honor. Unlike those in the Army, Navy, or Air Force, Intelligence Crosses were rarer. Often, even who received them was classified. The recipients’ identities could be stains on America’s history.
The Intelligence Agency branch chief replied with a meaningful smile.
“What’s the difference? Better than the Bay of Pigs Invasion, right? Plenty of merit to go around.”
Bay of Pigs Invasion. The time America tried to topple the Cuban regime by force. Of course, they couldn’t march in openly, so the CIA pulled strings from the shadows. It ended in abject failure.
‘Why bring that up specifically? What’s his angle?’
The intel popping up from his Intelligence adjustment wasn’t enough. The system judged that Winter knowing more would be unnatural right now.
Luckily, Winter had a friendly FBI supervisor. Noticing his troubled look, she poked him under the desk with her pen tip. A signal they were now used to: let’s write notes. The scratch of her fountain pen always brought a sense of calm. Her neat handwriting did too.
As Winter stayed quiet, Chadwick resumed the briefing.
“Anyway, folks, this means Moby Dick—Ship No. 9—poses far less of a nuclear threat now. Even if they launch missiles, we’ve averted the worst-case scenario of direct hits on major cities and military bases. We can’t avoid widespread radiation contamination, though.”
While listening, Winter glanced sideways to read what Joanna was writing.
「The Bay of Pigs recipients were selected after declassification.」
Scratch-scratch.
「If they meant to award it for the merit itself, it would’ve been decided before then. Honoring them long after the fact means the merit wasn’t that important. It was a failed op that damaged America’s face. Not much of an opinion, but I see it as a tool to quiet criticism of the Agency.」
In other words, the Intelligence Agency’s top medal that might come Winter’s way wasn’t truly for his achievements—it was just a PR move.
「As you know, the public loves Winter. It feels good when someone they like gets recognized. Your reputation as a medal collector fits that too.」
Winter scribbled a quick question, dotting it fast.
「……Medal collector? They call me that?」
A soft sense of her smiling beside him. The FBI agent’s restrained script flowed elegantly into new lines.
「Yes. Your medal record is impressive in both count and timeframe. People wonder: what medal will my hero snag next? It draws eyes to your path. Not weird in these joyless times. I feel that way too. :-)」
Joanna added another line.
「It’s also insurance. If we can’t nab Ship No. 9 in the end, they can trot you out as proof we tried our best. The public, media, even the administration—they won’t be harsh with Han Gyeowol’s name in front of them. And Congress won’t either.」
Mentioning Congress hinted at congressional oversight. Multiple committees in both houses could rein in the CIA.
「Plus, it boosts the Intelligence Agency’s visibility.」
As an intel person, Joanna’s insights came without delay.
「The Agency’s position is shaky right now. They’re already taking hits in budget allocations. Even accounting for the collapsed global spy network, people worry about the organization’s survival. So they have to advertise their existence. Target the public, and Congress follows. NASA did it once.」
Visibility meant influence. In a country where budget shortages could cut off water and erase police stations along a single road even in cities, federal agencies weren’t immune.
Etching Winter’s covert op merits firmly could make it easier to pull him back in later.
‘Maybe the Trojan that infected Sirius wasn’t even from my USB.’
Winter’s assessment. If they wanted to funnel credit his way, what couldn’t they rig? It felt too lucky, like Chadwick said. Other operatives got the same USBs, planted in fitting ways during their missions.
「Might sound unpleasant, but coldly advising: you’re prime material wherever you’re used. Hope you don’t get hurt later.」
Winter wrote back.
「Don’t worry. I’m not soft enough to get upset over that.」
But concern lingered on Joanna’s profile.
As their note-passing dragged on, the briefing moved to other implications of the gains.
“Sirius is a treasure trove of intel.”
Point Charlie 854, codename Sirius: the old Chinese Navy intelligence collector ship, Tianlangxing. Someone aboard must’ve watched those essential guy vids.
“Key takeaways are three. First, comms ciphers used by Admiral Sieru’s faction. Second, details on their weapons and forces. Third, past comms logs. The last one’s the real gem. We got detailed profiles on the Chinese generals in San Francisco Bay. Some might even be persuadable discreetly. Well done again, Lieutenant Han!”
Chadwick’s playfulness felt like an old dog’s obligatory charm. Winter forced an awkward expression.
“Right now, the priority is how—and how much—to prepare for their upcoming summit. What I just covered is Agency business. Now, onto your roles.”
The screen changed.
“The Red Stars’ summit is expected on the Chinese-registered 24,000-ton cruise-ferry, Bohai Pearl. Eavesdropping confirmed it.”
The playing footage wasn’t recorded—it was live drone feed.
The ship itself was nothing special. But its position was awful.
“As you see, it’s a death trap. Four destroyers from three factions can pound it with naval guns. One’s the sub we tried to blow but failed. Anyway, Lieutenant Han Gyeowol will infiltrate solo. What I want are opinions from the strike team commanders: can we mount a rescue if things go south?”
The special forces commanders shook their heads immediately.
One raised his hand: Captain Colin Fowler, White Skull Company commander.
“Why not just bomb the summit site?”
“Bold idea.”
Chadwick shrugged, then shook his head.
“We considered it. No value.”
“Wiping out the heads would sow chaos in the rest. Isn’t Ship No. 9’s escorts the reason we can’t take it down? If they’re confused, our whale’s defenseless.”
Ship No. 9 was dangerous, but alone, not lethal. A U.S. Navy cruiser waited outside Golden Gate. A lone sub firing missiles would get intercepted instantly.
The issue was Chinese escorts. The captain predicted chaos would leave them unable to protect it.
Chadwick mock-frowned.
“We have to account for them uniting in rage to exterminate U.S. imperialists. Can’t think too simply, Captain.”
The military men’s faces soured. “Simply” carried extra bite. Winter caught the flicker of contempt. Chadwick had once admitted Agency staffers acted superior to armed agents.
‘He’s no exception.’
Agency agents were top academic talent. They naturally distanced themselves from the physical types in combat roles. It could feel like a class divide.
As Winter watched with narrowed eyes, the team leader explained again.
“If that worked, we’d have launched waves of attack planes to sweep the Red warlords clean—civilians be damned. Laser guidance minimizes friendly fire anyway. But that only cleans the surface. Useless against the hostile alliance underwater. Can we definitely block them at Golden Gate?”
Even narrow, Golden Gate had escape routes.
“Better than sending Lieutenant Han Gyeowol in alone to die.”
A field commander’s view: a battalion moves to save one comrade. Fundamentally opposed to the Agency chief’s stance. Chadwick grinned.
“We should hear from him first. Was just about to ask.”
All eyes turned to Winter.
“Lieutenant. Ready to lay down your life for your country?”
The captain scowled again. The phrasing stank.
Sympathizing with the captain, Winter still nodded. What choice? Pointless arguments gained nothing.
‘I’m not actually planning to die…’
Winter recalled his sister’s last visit. So long ago it didn’t come quickly. What was going on? If she’d just forgotten him, fine. If she’d forgotten and lived for herself, he couldn’t ask more.
Worries never ended once started.
He hoped she was far from his eyes—and his heart.
============================ Author's Note ============================
#Content revised as of 19:08.
Q&A
Q. Jinkado-nim: @Happy ending is happy, but not like "death is salvation" stuff, right...?
A. I wouldn’t call that a happy ending. To be honest, my initial plan was a half-sad, half-hopeful end, but I changed it thinking readers couldn’t handle even half the sadness. The star won’t fall.
Q. Noblessebuffer-nim: @Ends with a happy ending, so probably in a beautiful setting?
A. Uh, well. Setting? Setting doesn’t matter.
Q. Masterkalsolum-nim: @Sa... sa... lko... Salco chicken fan?
A. Prefer whole chicken over boneless, and legs/wings-only over whole.
Q. Bluecrystal-nim: @During the instructor call, the part about trigger position ~~ doesn’t make sense. How do you change a gun’s trigger position? Did I misunderstand? Please explain.
A. Excerpt from Ch. 171
Jang Hanbyeol. Yura squad’s designated marksman. Exceptional skill—and love—for shooting earned her the nickname Trigger Position (Trigger Witch), and she completed sniper school. Wonder how she got battalion commander-level rec.
Trigger Position is Jang Hanbyeol’s nickname.
Q. YinranmaguF-nim: @Friend got a rare disease, heading to Busan. He’s so innocent—please write more hopeful stories, author.
A. Sorry to hear about your friend. But... he’s reading this too?