Chapter 199
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 199
Chapter Title: Survivors (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
There were three Army officers excluding the captain. Lieutenant Ruben Pennington, Lieutenant Malcolm Krueger, and Lieutenant Ralph Novak. But even among them, their affiliations diverged further. Unlike Lieutenant Pennington, who was under Captain Langford, Lieutenant Krueger was a transport helicopter pilot, and Lieutenant Novak was personnel dispatched from the Army Intelligence Support Group.
"Lieutenant Ralph Novak. Administrative officer attached to Echo Company, 9th Psychological Operations Battalion. My mission was to provide psychological support to survivors remaining in the metropolitan urban areas."
He introduced himself with unusual tension. That made sense—his role was even further removed from direct combat than artillery. The same went for Lieutenant Krueger.
Winter sensed a subtle unease from some of the soldiers. They must have undergone regular training, but expecting infantry-level combat proficiency from them would be unrealistic. If variants appeared right in front of them, the Coast Guard side might handle it more steadily.
In other words, Winter was the only infantry commander here. The captain emphasized that point.
"It's embarrassing, but we'll all have to rely on you a lot. Me included. Looking forward to your best efforts for the time being."
"I'll do my utmost."
The next topic was the nuclear strike.
"Are we completely out of the nuclear blast radius?"
Captain Langford nodded at Lieutenant Escamilla's question.
"You can rest easy on that. We're about thirty kilometers from the bay, and the wind's blowing from the west. It's an underwater detonation, so there'll be fallout, but at this wind speed, it'll spread within twenty degrees of the wind direction. Most of the contamination should end in the eastern mountainous areas of the metro region. Unless HQ's lost it, they wouldn't use strategic nukes."
A nuclear weapon's power is expressed by the weight of explosives needed to produce an equivalent blast.
The strategic nukes the captain mentioned meant warheads of megaton class or higher. If one of those went off, fallout could spread hundreds of kilometers. Even accounting for the mountains narrowing the range, it would inevitably contaminate areas south of Sacramento and the central California plains.
Winter affirmed the captain's assessment.
"They'd have to, for the sake of the stragglers in the central plains."
The scale of the forces cut off from supplies and retreat routes due to General Yang Yongbin's nuclear terror was still unknown. They could only guess it reached up to a million.
'Maybe the nuclear strike was even called off.'
It was Winter's private thought. The ultimate goal of the final resolution was to eliminate further nuclear terror threats. But with all that chaos, it wouldn't be surprising if a nuclear sub had broken containment. From the U.S. government's perspective, it was another disaster. What must the president be feeling now?
"So from here on, we proceed on foot?"
It was Lieutenant Barker's question. Captain Langford, pondering, sought the pilot's input.
"If we keep flying, how much farther can we go?"
Lieutenant Krueger was pessimistic.
"We didn't start with full fuel. In the time crunch, we refueled as many aircraft as possible with just one fuel truck. Even siphoning from the wrecked ones and maintaining safe speeds, we're looking at about twenty kilometers max."
"Hmm, that's tricky."
The captain lapsed into thought again.
"Walking would take half a day even without trouble—not exactly short—but there's no guarantee we'll all survive another landing... What do you all think? Better to risk another crash and move fast, or walk? I lean toward walking."
Winter agreed.
"Same here. On foot, combat's inevitable, but luckily, variants are scarce around here. Roads are in good shape, so securing vehicles should be fine."
As Winter said, the north-south highway was eerily clean. It was one of the main routes out of the San Francisco metro area, making it all the more strange. The obvious conclusion: infection spread north of the Golden Gate had been that explosive.
Lieutenant Krueger chimed in.
"It's already a miracle these rookies flew a near-broken chopper this far."
The remaining lieutenants eyed each other, but no objections came. Their expressions weren't bright, though. Winter read their worries.
'They're concerned about ammo shortages. Wonder how much is left.'
They must have burned through massive amounts escaping Fort Baker. Recalling the scenes just before takeoff, the intelligence correction provided a vividly enhanced 「Memory」.
From the soldiers' ammo vests in those glimpses, each probably had at most one or two full magazines left.
A full mag was thirty rounds—not insignificant, but what a normal soldier might burn in a single standard engagement. Inexperienced troops could spray dozens per variant. Winter, who dropped at least one per shot, wasn't a fair comparison.
Shaking off regrets, Lieutenant Pennington backed his superior.
"If we're abandoning the sea, it doesn't matter which way. Even flying, we've got hundreds of kilometers after. Half a day more or less won't make a big difference. Best to avoid combat as much as possible and strictly control ammo use."
The decision came quickly despite the dire straits.
"Now, the remaining issue is where to go..."
The captain scanned everyone once.
"Bit late to ask, but until we link up, is it okay if I take command?"
With mixed affiliations, it needed firm resolution. His gaze first went to the boy officer—the next in rank here. In some ways, he might even be more suited to command than Captain Langford.
But that could breed needless friction.
Winter, not wanting it anyway, snapped to attention.
"Yes, sir."
He had no intention of following unreasonable orders, but no need to say so now. He didn't seem the type. Winter's prompt decision swayed the other lieutenants. The two Coast Guard ones exchanged glances, then nodded.
"We'll follow your lead."
Lieutenant Barker's words spoke for the Coast Guard survivors. The Army lieutenants followed suit.
"I see..."
Captain Langford exhaled a long sigh. A mix of light relief and heavy anxiety.
"Alright, gentlemen. I'll give it my all too. But I'll fall short plenty. Speak up with ideas. And no rejecting folks just because of different units."
He hesitated slightly, then tasked Winter.
"Especially Lieutenant Han Gyeowol, please relay things well to the intel agents and investigators. I don't know how to handle them. They're outside the military."
Winter replied immediately.
"I'll take responsibility for them. But among the intel agents, there's a witness to a critical matter, so deploying them like regular troops in combat will be tough. I'd appreciate understanding on that."
"Critical matter? Can I know?"
Before the puzzled captain and curious officers, Winter glanced toward the agents. As a small, outsider group, they huddled inside the perimeter. Joanna was still resting in the cockpit. Even from afar, the awkward vibe between Kowalski and the others was palpable.
Mostly Talbot asking something, Kowalski hesitating.
No sound, but the conversation was easy to guess.
Turning back, Winter answered the captain.
"It's hard to explain here. It's a grave national security issue... I'll arrange a meeting with FBI Supervisor Gibson when we have time later."
He trailed off mid-sentence because "national security" felt awkward—not finicky now, but gauging if this world's Han Gyeowol would say it.
The captain nodded.
"Fine, I'll hold off till then. You control them. If cooperation's needed, report to me first. You said you'd handle it, but you can't be glued to them."
"Yes."
As the strongest fighter, Winter would also be the busiest. That was the point.
With rough command hierarchy set, the captain returned to prior discussion.
"For now, Yuba City as destination. Heard they've set up a fortified base near the city to rally retreating forces after the liberation op failed."
Winter unfolded a mental map. Having seen it across many runs, 「Map Reading」 wasn't even needed for a rough route estimate.
Far. Yuba City was way north of Sacramento. Walking straight, over ten days easy. Rough math, so longer wouldn't surprise.
Vehicles would slash that dramatically.
The captain added a caveat.
"But this can change anytime. Keep other options open. Yuba City's just one possibility for survival—not the answer. First priority: nearest settlement for long-term op prep. Lieutenant Krueger, you flew lead—anything ahead?"
"Another kilometer up, there's a small town. No movement from the air. Shouldn't run into large variant groups. How about securing it and letting the troops rest?"
The lieutenant himself looked exhausted. It had been that desperate a dawn. Not as much as the FBI investigator gripping the stick through trauma, but officers and soldiers fresh from battle desperately needed rest.
"Let's do it. Finish unit formation and ammo redistribution, then move. Inventory your passengers, weapons, ammo, and report. You have ten minutes."
Ignore original chains of command—rally the troops. Efficient in this mixed bag. Army soldiers' unit patches were all over anyway.
Winter's chopper had only him as officer.
Inventory was quick. Uneven ammo loads couldn't be memorized, so first pass: redistribute to equal per head by headcount.
Finally, waking sleeping Joanna. Shaking her as she groaned in nightmare,
Click!
She drew her pistol before opening her eyes. How deeply fear was etched—flawless even half-asleep, no fumbling. Her fingers whitened on the trigger guard. But it didn't fire; Winter, gripping the pistol, had safetied it.
"Calm down. Nothing happened here."
At Winter's steady words, her ragged breaths slowed. Fully alert, she realized who she was aiming at and flinched.
"Th-this... Oh God. What was I just... Sorry. Really, oh Lord..."
"It's fine. Wasn't dangerous. Bad dream?"
Whew. Wiping her sweaty brow, Joanna nodded.
"The guy who suicided in the test zone—he grabbed my ankle and wouldn't let go."
Ah, that trickster. Memorable enough to haunt dreams, no surprise.
"Checking ammo left. You're last. Didn't want to wake you, but shoulda started here."
Exhausted smile, Joanna pulled mags from her vest, counting the one in too.
Hers skipped the first redistribution. Winter noted it separately. Temporary fix for convenience anyway. Formal distribution later.
Soon, Captain Langford got reports.
Excluding agents, seventy troops—enough for a platoon, lean but workable. Winter got a platoon command.