Chapter 180
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 180
Chapter Title: Vertical and Horizontal Alliances, San Francisco (14)
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The aftermath of the nuclear strike became known three days later.
For Winter, who had returned late due to his role as Major General Sierra's bodyguard, Joanna spread a map across the table in her private quarters. The border between California and Nevada cut diagonally across the paper. To the west lay California's spine, a portion of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. At its heart was the famed Yosemite National Park.
She marked the nuclear detonation sites with a red pen. One, two, three, four...
"Ultimately, a total of nine warheads came down."
Nine. More than the number of nuclear missiles launched. The FBI agent explained the reason immediately.
"Only two ballistic missiles escaped San Francisco, but the problem is that each carried ten warheads. Their top speed upon re-entering the atmosphere was 8 kilometers per second—over 20 times the speed of sound. The blockade line's air defenses simply weren't enough to stop them."
Joanna sighed.
"The short flight path of the ballistic missiles left little time to respond. Alaska's air defense bases attempted space intercepts, but they couldn't reach in time. If they'd targeted a major East Coast city like New York, the defense success rate might have been higher. Of course, that would have been far more catastrophic."
Winter had heard about nuclear missiles with multiple warheads before.
When was it? In a past worldline—not this one—a retired Korean Army general had joined Winter's group. It was from him that Winter first learned about nuclear powers' contingency retaliation plans. Korea, as a U.S. ally, was listed as a Russian target.
Allegedly, just one missile had been allocated for that purpose. Once the separated warheads dropped one by one on major cities, the nation of Korea would cease to exist.
Winter examined the map and asked,
"How bad is the damage?"
Joanna's expression darkened.
"No cities or bases took direct hits, at least. The satellite signal disruptions must have helped. But there's still damage. No, it's actually quite severe. I'm starting to think Lieutenant General Yang Yongbin chose targets that could miss from the start."
"Targets that could miss? What do you mean?"
"Look here, Winter."
The agent pointed to a spot on the map. Hawthorne. A small town nestled between arid mountains and desert, beside Walker Lake. Judging by its size, the resident population probably didn't exceed 10,000.
Yet three nukes had fallen nearby. One to the west, one north, one southeast. All misses, so likely no casualties, but evacuation orders would have been issued due to the fallout ash from the blasts and the radioactive fallout raining from the sky. But what other damage?
"The Hawthorne area housed a supply depot overseeing central and southern California."
The agent's finger traced a circle around the town.
"The nuclear strikes contaminated about 150,000 acres—2,400 ammunition bunkers—with radiation. The base operating unit barely evacuated personnel before the fallout arrived. Southern California's front lines are in panic without ammo and supplies. Right now, frontline troops have only about four days' worth of ammunition, assuming sustained combat. Withdrawal orders have been issued across the entire front."
"...Will they be okay?"
"I don't know. No major mutant offensives yet, but small-scale probes—like power reconnaissance testing us—are ongoing even now. The moment we show weakness, they'll notice. They understand ammo and fuel, probably."
It was safer to assume that. Even if the war situation had long passed the point where "safety" was a joke.
A hole in one front line endangered the rear of all others.
'Full-scale liberation ops on hold for the foreseeable future... Worst case, failure.'
Winter pondered the future. This worldline had seemed so stable that he hadn't anticipated such rapid deterioration. But it had happened. All he could do was hope the front stabilized. Even so, it would be bad news for the approaching election.
Posthumous pipe dreams—how long would his lingering spirit last?
"How about elsewhere, Anne?"
At Winter's question, the FBI agent furrowed her brow.
"Same story. Radiation contamination is the bigger issue than the blasts themselves. Five national highways connecting the east and west of the Sierra Nevada—from Yosemite north to the Eldorado National Forest—are cut off. The biggest blow is the Lincoln Highway up top."
"No good supply or withdrawal routes, then."
"Yeah. No direct hits, so the roads are intact, but... Unless it's an armored vehicle with overpressure and air filters, passage is impossible. Regular Humvees or trucks won't cut it."
Overpressure systems kept interior air pressure higher than outside, preventing contaminated air from leaking in. In the few apocalypses Winter had experienced—where humanity used nukes en masse to eradicate plagues—such vehicles had been invaluable.
In a radiation-contaminated environment, individual gas masks had limited endurance time. Without superhuman 「Environmental Adaptation」, securing such vehicles was a matter of survival.
But the current U.S. military was sorely lacking them.
'Wasteful resource use.'
Tanks and APCs were overkill against mutants. Poor fuel efficiency too. Handy if available, but the resources and cost for one tank could produce dozens of Humvees. Even Winter would choose the latter.
The U.S. military had ballooned to ten million in half a year. Unavoidable choices to equip them in time.
The more he peered beyond the map, the darker the outlook. Retreating from California's central plains meant detouring massively south around the mountains or far north. Winter tilted his head. Fuel supply in this situation? Unlikely.
"Discarding useless vehicles would be risky, though. The mutants would notice."
"That's... not our worry. At least infections aren't spreading post-blasts. Small mercy. The strike zones were truly empty."
Worrying here changed nothing. Even as she said it, Joanna rubbed her face with a weary expression, brushing tired eyes with one hand and mumbling,
"Lately."
She sighed once,
"For the first time in a while, I feel like praying to God."
"Fuck." Lifeless emotion slipped from her dry lips.
Silence followed for a moment. It didn't feel awkward. Winter had shared such times countless times. When the heart grew dark and weary, simply not being alone brought comfort. Hoping the rose wouldn't wilt, the boy of old had held his silent sister's hand. Grateful that Autumn drew solace from him.
After composing herself in the quiet, Joanna turned the question on Winter.
"Have you met Team Leader Chadwick since returning?"
"Yes. Saw him right away. Had to report."
"How'd he react?"
"Not sure. No further orders yet, which is odd."
Intelligence Bureau's Chadwick had skimmed the after-action report. On the three days of vertical and horizontal alliances. Despite peace faction gathering around Major General Sierra, he showed no interest in exploiting it. Didn't probe deeply. Just told him to rest.
Was this indifference another mask? A shift in bureau policy? Some other plan? Amid conflicting 「Insights」, Winter couldn't gauge the branch chief's intentions.
Orca Black's ops were effectively halted. Indefinite standby.
'Then the connection with Major General Sierra I built is meaningless.'
At minimum, shouldn't he redeploy Winter himself? Unit 9's whereabouts remained veiled. Especially with speculation it was under an extreme political officer's control.
"With things like this, we need to wrap up the pursuit ASAP. Indefinite standby... Any other plans? Got a guess, Anne?"
"Hmm."
Winter read hesitation in the agent.
"Something's up?"
"..."
"Tell me. Unless it's classified I shouldn't know."
"Not quite classified—just my personal speculation. Still want to hear?"
"You're not one for baseless worries."
She gave a wry smile, hesitated a bit more, then voiced her suspicions.
"The standby order at this timing is suspicious no matter how you look. Maybe the top brass is considering the worst final solution."
"The worst final solution?"
"It was one idea floated during Fair Strike op's planning. Just too horrific and immoral to adopt."
Winter had a hunch at "immoral." Joanna's words confirmed his unpleasant premonition.
"It was a preemptive nuclear strike on the entire bay. Ballistics risked Chinese radar detection, so CIA takes warheads, installs manually, and detonates. To avoid retaliation. At least thirty bombs for the vast bay—scour it bottom to top."
She showed disgust throughout.
"Killing over ten million refugees, sacrificing remaining U.S. citizens in the metro area for national security... No way such madness passes. At least back then."
The Bay Area still held U.S. citizens in the hundreds of thousands. Slaughtering them threatened the regime's life—and politicians' necks.
Keeping such an op secret long-term? Unlikely.
Winter asked,
"So now it's different?"
"Honestly, suspicious. Excluding terror attacks, first strike on U.S. soil since WW2. A nuclear one, no less. With potential loss of a million troops and breached lines—will the top hold rational?"
"Well, nuclear ops need presidential approval. Hard to imagine approving civilian incineration, refugees aside."
The radio speech he'd heard brimmed with human hope and superhuman duty.
Not empty words. This worldline's America proved his character and competence. Currency economy intact, election on track despite crisis. Refugee handling had flaws—America's limits, humanity's limits.
Joanna disagreed.
"I trust the President. That's why I'm anxious. He'd set politics aside, decide purely as head of state."
"...Fair point."
"Without Unit 9, more nukes could come anytime. Continuing ops offers no capture guarantee. Sacrifice inhumanely for absolute safety of the vast majority. Impossible in this era?"
"..."
"As I said, my worrying changes nothing."
Fate was events beyond human limits by another name. Stretch limits all you want—the world always outscales.
Joanna softened her stern face.
"Still, venting helps. Thanks, Winter."
"No, I should thank you. Back and the mood's sour, no briefing—who to ask? Who else on the Pequod gives me time besides you?"
Winter flashed a charming smile.
Conversation ended there. The supervisor offered the boy officer coffee. He accepted; she bustled briefly. Not brandy, he hoped—yet out came Royal Café. Flat booze struggled to ignite, troubling her.
Even as apocalypse flowed beyond the door, a brief respite was fine.
============================ Author's Note ============================
#Hawthorne Ammo Depot
The Hawthorne Ammo Depot is the largest ammunition storage facility on the U.S. mainland. Coordinates: 38°31'26.8"N 118°37'22.4"W. Check it on Google Maps if interested. It's dozens of times the city area—all ammo depot.
#Q&A
Q. koko : @But if Winter proves the meeting contents, wouldn't it confirm the nuclear launch was the madman's doing, benefiting the negotiation faction (read: surrender faction)?
A. Even if Winter tells, useless if CIA drags feet?
Q. Lewd Demon F : @This is why America obsesses over MD.
A. Multiple warhead nukes are hard for MD to stop. Full of youthful innocence.
Q. Black Rain 66 : @This'll split those wavering between hardliners and moderates to extremes. Moderates thinking America won't sit idle shift to hardliners; remaining moderates bond tighter with U.S., hardliners label them traitors, worsening public opinion... Touching story. Depends on U.S. nuclear damage though;; Winter's overwhelmed, one step lateㅠㅠ Could be different pure-hearted development lol. Enjoy! Cheers!
A. My planned future plot differs a bit from your guess. But I expect you'll be satisfied. :)
Q. svjk : @(Strategy) So where'd the 7 launched nukes go, and where falling causes max damage? Normally big cities, but in this sitch, hitting concentrated defense lines might hurt mutants more? Brain they mentioned? Defense lines or strategic airports??
A. As seen in main story. Army Lt. Gen. Yang Yongbin knows effective use of limited forces. Top-tier soldier, after all.
Q. Carpis : @What if we bring Electronic Bitch here? Can even Winter ravage the Electronic Bitch who defiled the three great space guardian engineers? Curious about the Great Old One's opinion.
A. No idea what Electronic Bitch you're referring to...