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"…Eh, ugh, ah…"
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Langon Hospital, officially NYC Langon Hospital Brooklyn... and about 700 ters to the north, the Bush Terminal Soccer Field.
Wherever you look, the air is filled with painful sirens and the shouts of people. With the wind slowly picking up again and the massive plane approaching from the sky, the chaos only intensified.
Without realizing it, I started to feel uneasy, and I carefully grabbed Sergeant Mitchell’s hand, which was tightly holding mine, as if she were my mother. The confusion here... was much larger than I had imagined.
But I couldn't say that I didn't understand it.
"…We will make it out, right…?"
I had heard sowhere before that fear and chaos were the quickest spreading emotions.
Perhaps now I could truly understand that. Looking around, the people were murmuring anxiously. The ones who looked calm were probably those who would board the next plane and escape to safety, right?
But just as if to dismiss such thoughts, the plane that had been a tiny dot in the sky began descending slowly, surrounded by a slight trail of fla. It was a very unusual-looking aircraft. A plane that could land vertically…
Its imposing presence left everyone speechless for a mont. That was when I noticed the holes in the ground of the stadium. How much force must it take to make that happen when it takes off?
While I was staring absentmindedly at the scene, Sergeant Mitchell, who seed just as awestruck, added:
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"…Huh?"
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...I couldn't understand English, so I was frustrated.
Anyway, as I began to regret my earlier decision to accept being with the soldiers, the aircraft slowly descended above the soccer field.
Even the soldiers controlling the area stopped talking, staring silently at the breathtaking sight. Even I, having been in the military, was at a loss for words. It was the kind of thing you’d only see in a military docuntary or movie, happening right in front of .
The only difference from the movies was that when the transport hatch opened, the people who had been waiting started to rush out recklessly.
───Thud-thud-thud!
"…Ugh…!"
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"Sergeant…"
At that mont, the sound of gunfire filled the sky. The soldiers in charge of the control imdiately opened fire into the air as the situation seed to escalate. My heart nearly dropped. I was terrified, truly terrified.
Before I realized it, my breathing beca erratic, and my hands and feet were shaking. As soon as Sergeant Mitchell noticed, she grabbed my hand to calm down. Fortunately, I could understand the words she said to comfort .
Thankfully or unluckily, the people who had been startled by the gunfire managed to board in an orderly fashion, and the transport hatch closed tightly once the 75 civilians, along with their luggage, had been squeezed in.
It didn’t take long for the aircraft to lift off, and as the civilians disappeared into the sky, a profound silence and the cold winter wind filled the space left behind.
Unfortunately, the transport that would arrive in 5 minutes was scheduled to first support the evacuation of the remaining 32 civilians and the 104th Military Police Battalion, which had been guarding Langon Hospital.
In short, this was the plan:
Civilians are evacuated first.
The 442nd Military Police Company that had been stationed since 3 AM starts evacuation, with the 107th Military Police Company taking over the defense line.
Full evacuation of the 442nd Military Police Company, followed by the joint evacuation of the 107th Military Police Company with two transport planes.
I had even been suggested to board the transport first, but... like everything else, there were procedures, and unfortunately, my weight was too large a variable to fit into the plan.
And it wasn’t that I was going last, either.
To be specific, the plane arriving now was scheduled to take the remaining 32 civilians and about 40 mbers of the 442nd Military Police Company, who had been guarding Langon Hospital.
The next transport would take about 30 mbers of the 442nd Military Police Company and heavy weapons, and I was supposed to board that transport. I had heard that if they included part of the 107th Military Police Company, the periter defense would be compromised.
…To understand this, I had spent about two hours before I fell asleep earlier today learning about the procedure. It was tiring.
Anyway.
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When I recalled the things I had learned, my anxiety subsided a little... well, a lot.
I looked around, and after so ti, I saw Captain Parkinson talking to soone. It was hard to see clearly, but they must have known each other, being fellow soldiers.
The current ti was about 7:00 AM. I had heard that sunrise was around 7:30 AM, and sure enough, the surroundings gradually began to change from a dark color to a deep blue.
The air around started to tremble slightly. I didn’t know how, but strangely, my body could detect even the faintest vibrations in the air.
A new transport plane was coming. By now, so of the civilians and mbers of the 442nd Military Police Company had begun waiting, and the soldiers who had arrived with on the truck started to enter the defensive lines they had apparently set up earlier, beginning periter defense.
…It was all so fascinating.
'…Is this why they’re soldiers, with such self-sacrificial qualities? How can they carry out their mission without hesitation even when society is this broken?'
My past military service suddenly ca to mind.
It hadn’t been much different from everyone else’s. I went through training, got assigned to a unit, bonded with seniors, worked hard at what I was told, made friends with my peers, participated in training now and then, and did guard duties and tasks.
I just did my ti, trying not to get hurt, doing the bare minimum to get by, waiting for the day I’d get discharged, and then eventually coming back to society...
…If I were a soldier, would I have been able to carry out my duties without fear?
As the transport loaded up 70 more people and took off, the stadium in Brooklyn was left with only , a few mbers of the 442nd Military Police Company, and so from the 107th Military Police Company.
From a distance, I saw Captain Parkinson approaching. He soon reached , ruffled the pom-pom on my hat with his hand, and added:
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Although I didn’t fully understand everything he said, I had a sense of what he ant.
As I reached up and gently caressed his hand on my head, he took off the patch on my shoulder. The sound of it tearing was quick and light.
The 107th Military Police Company. Everyone here had that patch on their shoulders.
He then put the patch into my pocket and said:
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It was such a small, light gift, yet why was I tearing up?
That small acknowledgnt seed to prove that the past week, the ti I had spent here, was valuable. It felt as if all the terrifying experiences I had gone through were lting away like snow.
Tears began to flow down my cheeks, slowly soaking the scarf around my neck. I reached out and gently embraced him, and though he seed unsure of what to do, he returned the hug tightly.
From his embrace, from the several magazines in his gear, ca the scent of tal, but I didn’t mind at all.
I was so grateful to everyone, but unfortunately, it was impossible to hug each of them because they were all busy with their periter duties... But we’d all et again in Central Park, for sure.
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anwhile, the transport plane that had carried 75 people returned, and a strange soldier from behind called out to .
He introduced himself as Captain Colton, the one in charge of the 442nd Military Police Company, and I began walking slowly toward the transport plane, leaving Captain Parkinson and the 107th Military Police Company behind.
Heavy weapons that were too valuable to abandon, and the remaining 40 soldiers, all still here. I began to slowly lift my feet, and without thinking, I looked up at the sky.
And after so ti, I spoke.
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At that mont, Captain Colton looked up at the sky, but by then, I realized it wasn’t a star.
It was definitely not starlight.
It was more like... what should I call it? Yeah. A missile—
───Whoooosh!
Boom!
At that mont, from the sky... an explosion?
As it fell just a short distance from the base and ignited a massive column of fire, Captain Colton shoved into the transport hatch.
Screams echoed.
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Things were starting to go awry.
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As the sky brightened with the dawn, an eerie atmosphere began to settle over the area, and from afar, I could see the growing number of escapees approaching.
The dot was moving. But through the optical sights on the guns, the faces of the enemies were revealed, their eyes filled with greed and a sadistic pleasure as they approached.
As this happened, the transport plane had already taken off, carrying 70 people, and after they left, Brooklyn’s soccer field was left with only , so mbers of the 442nd Military Police Company, and the remaining mbers of the 107th Military Police Company.
In the distance, I saw Captain Parkinson approaching. Soon, he reached , ruffled the pom-pom on my hat with his hand, and said:
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""
""
Although I didn’t fully understand everything he said, I had a sense of what he ant.
As I reached up and gently caressed his hand on my head, he took off the patch on my shoulder. The sound of it tearing was quick and light.
The 107th Military Police Company. Everyone here had that patch on their shoulders.
He then put the patch into my pocket and said:
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""
It was such a small, light gift, yet why was I tearing up?
That small acknowledgnt seed to prove that the past week, the ti I had spent here, was valuable. It felt as if all the terrifying experiences I had gone through were lting away like snow.
Tears began to flow down my cheeks, slowly soaking the scarf around my neck. I reached out and gently embraced him, and though he seed unsure of what to do, he returned the hug tightly.
From his embrace, from the several magazines in his gear, ca the scent of tal, but I didn’t mind at all.
I was so grateful to everyone, but unfortunately, it was impossible to hug each of them because they were all busy with their periter duties... But we’d all et again in Central Park, for sure.
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anwhile, the transport plane that had carried 75 people returned, and a strange soldier from behind called out to .
He introduced himself as Captain Colton, the one in charge of the 442nd Military Police Company, and I began walking slowly toward the transport plane, leaving Captain Parkinson and the 107th Military Police Company behind.
Heavy weapons that were too valuable to abandon, and the remaining 40 soldiers, all still here. I began to slowly lift my feet, and without thinking, I looked up at the sky.
And after so ti, I spoke.
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At that mont, Captain Colton looked up at the sky, but by then, I realized it wasn’t a star.
It was definitely not starlight.
It was more like... what should I call it? Yeah. A missile—
───Whoooosh!
Boom!
At that mont, from the sky... an explosion?
As it fell just a short distance from the base and ignited a massive column of fire, Captain Colton shoved into the transport hatch.
Screams echoed.
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Things were starting to go awry.
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The eastern sky was gradually brightening, and with it ca a heavy, ominous atmosphere as hordes of escapees started to approach from the distance.
The dot was moving. However, through the optical sights mounted on our rifles, the faces of the enemies were magnified and painted with greed and a twisted delight at pursuing their malicious pleasures.
In the midst of all this, if the missile had fallen after the takeoff, at least those who could have survived would have had a chance, but before the ramp even closed, the missile had struck, and the 442nd Military Police Company was forced to return to the frontline.
The result was Captain Colton standing next to Captain Parkinson.
And... only three people.
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"Captain—!"
It had co to this.
He felt a headache and turned his head to see Eugene, her face almost in tears, running toward him, followed by three soldiers who had seemingly failed to stop her.
Should I have explained it to her earlier? He thought, but by now it was too late, and he sighed. At least the V-44TA1 wasn’t flying off and was still sitting in the stadium.
He had to stay where he was to command, but luckily, the situation wasn’t completely lost yet.
For example—
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