"You're going to use white phosphorus? And you an enough to burn a large part of Lower Manhattan? Are we hearing this correctly?"
"You're hearing it correctly. Exactly as I said. The higher-ups want to completely burn and destroy all the enemies causing chaos in Lower Manhattan. Moreover, the expiration date for the white phosphorus bombs stored in the nearby air force bases is rapidly approaching."
"...So, you're planning to detonate them before they spontaneously ignite? I can sort of understand that..."
Central Park, early May, approximately three days before the operation.
The briefing room at the Central Park HQ was filled with murmurs as soon as the permission for white phosphorus bombing was half "announced." Most operators involved in the mission shook their heads in disbelief. However, there was one thing that was clear: no one was seriously opposing it. So understood it was necessary, while others were convinced after hearing about the technical challenges of storing the white phosphorus bombs.
Of course, unlike the majority, there was soone who simply didn’t care about the matter—soone resembling a shark.
"It's just sothing that ignites at around 30 to 40 degrees Celsius. If we don’t take it out of the storage before it gets hotter, it’ll cause a huge explosion."
"...So you an you're going to dump it in Lower Manhattan before it spontaneously combusts? Is that the decision from the higher-ups?"
"This isn’t a decision or a plan—it's already happening. All the nearby air force bases storing bombs are already undergoing the sa transportation operations. The drones flying around are proof of that."
"Wow."
"As you probably know, many of the folks higher up are angry right now. The president lost his entire family in a terrorist attack during this situation. It’s hard to find anyone at Central Park HQ who isn’t affected by it."
"I understand what you're saying."
Those who had lost family or loved ones, those who had suffered, often ended up making radical decisions. However, bombing wasn’t necessarily crossing the line. For those who deserved to die, there was no problem with throwing anything at them. Hadn’t the ancestors from a century ago flown bombers over Tokyo?
The criminals who escaped while Arica’s legs were shattered, the ones who sent reconnaissance teams without a declaration of war, the ones who sold the country while its legs were broken—these were all people who deserved to burn.
No one was pushing the brakes on this obvious conclusion.
"Anyway, that’s enough about that. I heard we’ve located where the Artemis fragnts are hiding."
"Kips Bay. We detected suspicious movent in the communications tower district just 1.2 kiloters south of the recently occupied UN headquarters. We’ve already sent several electronic warfare drones. We should gather aningful data soon."
"I see. I'll make a note of that."
"Now it’s up to how quickly the Liker guys can control their speed. The timing of their contact with the enemy squad will decide when the operation will take place."
One of the operators muttered while checking a map of Lower Manhattan on the wall.
The AT&T Tower, also known as 33 Thomas Street, was marked with a red skull symbol. Below it, the Russian and Chinese flags were flying together.
The aning was clear—it was the enemy’s command center.
Unfortunately, as desirable as it might have been to blow up the building being used as the command center, there were too many obstacles, and the enemy's communications equipnt was of imnse value at this point.
Despite the necessity of discussing it, everyone was skeptical about whether it was possible to strike only the command center without destroying or recovering the equipnt.
As the operation progressed, operators continued to go on separate ergency missions, their frequency increasing. Despite being in full condition, they couldn’t guarantee success, and bad luck piled up.
In such circumstances, the retrieval request, which could almost be seen as a wish rather than an operational goal, made the difficulty skyrocket. The support operators were well aware of this.
All of them sighed. The weather in Manhattan in early May was unpleasantly gloomy.
Soone spoke up.
"Anyway, we should set the operation ti ourselves. Get Olivia and Eugene ready to head near Lower Manhattan. When we can confirm the communication interval between the subunits and Artemis, we’ll strike during that gap."
"What are you planning to do?"
"If all goes well, we should be able to control the timing of contact between Liker and the subunits. We could trigger an explosion with sothing like an IED to cause a diversion."
"Understood. Should we assemble the operators?"
"Yes."
There were no further words.
It didn’t take long for eleven operators to gather.
No one knew what the result of the first military operation by Icarus and Central Park would be, but it was about to unfold.
"Is this how it turned out? A bit sooner than expected… Get up, Eugene. The operation starts now."
"Ugh, I’ve only been asleep for three hours..."
"What can we do?"
The rustling sound.
At 2:30 a.m., under the full moon lighting up Manhattan, Olivia woke up. The mont she shook , I instinctively knew what was coming, but the exhaustion wrapping my body made it hard to move.
Luckily, I had a body that recovered quickly. I rubbed my eyes and got up, seeing Olivia getting dressed in combat gear. I would be doing the sa soon.
Logan and Laurentina were sleeping downstairs, so only the second floor lights were on. I had already packed the necessary things, knowing exactly where the infiltration route and destination were, as well as the tasks ahead, so there was no hesitation in my actions.
As I changed clothes, Olivia opened the personal cabinet and spoke.
"Strictly speaking, this mission isn’t part of the Special Reconnaissance (SR) category. Technically, it’s a city reconnaissance mission. This is my first ti being involved in an operation like this too."
"...I’ll do my best."
"Yeah. But you’ve been trained well over the past few days, so you should be familiar with the TL (Mission Essential Task List). The MSP and MTP are both with Zodiac, so let’s get them to the OP after landing."
"Wait, MSP and MTP... You an the Mission Support Package and Mission Tasking Package, right? OP is the observation post?"
"Pretty much. Soon, you’ll naturally get used to the terminology and abbreviations."
Maybe that’s true.
I thought about it for a mont. Learning the terms and abbreviations from the manual was no different than morizing English words. The only difference was that I had to learn the phonetic codes to communicate over the comms.
As these words appeared in English sentences like chocolate chips in a cookie, it was hard to pick up the pace. But what could I do? I just had to get used to it quickly.
Anyway, it was too late to say it now, but the Special Reconnaissance (SR) mission I was learning was not quite compatible with the urban reconnaissance we were about to do in the early morning.
The reason was simple. SR was fundantally related to large-scale reconnaissance operations in foreign countries. asuring the positions and depths of coastlines, noting road characteristics—this was what a special reconnaissance operator did.
But in the city, those things weren’t really relevant.
"Let’s go if you’re ready."
"Yes."
"Steady yourself. Although we’re not a strike team, depending on the operation's progress and success, we could very well be involved in combat."
"...Got it."
"We’ve placed the required firearms near the landing point, so you’re only carrying a single carbine. Did you check if the weapons and accessories are functioning?"
"Yes, everything’s fine. I also packed spare batteries."
"Good. We don’t know how long we’ll be out there."
The weather outside was mild and cool. It was early May, so it was expected.
Under the unusually bright moon, Olivia and I rode a special low-noise four-wheeled bike and made our way out from the left side of Central Park. Our destination was Pier 99, a dedicated dock for NYC’s Public Health Departnt on the left side of Manhattan.
As we had been inford earlier, Olivia and I were supposed to board a small boat called Zodiac and land at Tribeca Point, a luxury apartnt complex 7 kiloters south along the Hudson River.
After arriving at the landing point, we would stay there and deploy drones to install surveillance caras on the rooftops of nearby high-rise buildings, gathering intelligence on enemy movents, their weapons levels, and other details.
The bike made its way slowly out of Central Park, and I kept scanning the area to check if anything unexpected might erge. Given the weight of the two of us, we had to go at a slow speed.
But despite that, Central Park and the Hudson River were only about a kiloter apart, and within minutes, the bike ca to a stop.
I carefully boarded the Zodiac boat, which was already loaded with all kinds of gear. After Olivia climbed aboard, I followed and helped pull the boat into the water. The boat was nearly subrged with our weight, but it still floated, and we set off.
The boat ride would take about 10 minutes. Olivia casually continued talking.
"Although I’m not sure, the more I review this mission, the more I think I understand why you’re coming with ."
"...Really? I thought it was because there was no one else to send."
"At first, I thought that too. But after checking the guidelines from higher-ups, it turns out that’s not the case. There are a lot of missions that only operators with Icarus gear can handle."
"..."
I hadn’t thought about it like that.
Suddenly, Olivia explained briefly—it was about the advantages of the Icarus gear for infiltration missions.
The gear had heat shielding and optical camouflage functions, provided near-permanent night vision capabilities, and could transport a dozen drones to a specific location to install caras on rooftops. These were just so of the capabilities of the Icarus gear.
There were many more things it could do, but this was just part of the explanation.
"Anyway, there are a lot of things you can do right now, and a lot of things you should do. Don’t worry about the rest. The rest will be solved by ti and experience... and you’re gaining that experience right now."
"...If I don’t gain experience, I’ll die, though."
"That’s my job—to make sure that doesn’t happen."
"Yep. I’ll do my best…"
As she spoke, Olivia patted my head, and I smiled faintly, feeling her warmth. It reminded of my parents.
I knew that once all this was over and I went back to Korea, I might not have parents to return to. Maybe that’s why they were so kind to .
But after several months in this place, I had gained new important people. Even if I had lost my parents, I didn’t want to lose these people.
I pressed down on the lancholic feelings, holding my hand over hers, but Olivia imdiately sensed it and spoke.
"I don’t know exactly what hard things you've gone through, or what you’re still going through... but right now, everyone feels that way. Before coming here, I lost five team mbers."
"..."
"You might be overwheld by those emotions, but I’m not the type to sit still and feel powerless. Shouldn’t we make those who made this world a ss pay for it?"
"...Pfft."
"Maybe everyone wants to beco strong enough to do that. And... I was the sa 12 years ago. Those who are excellent grow stronger through refinent. And you, Eugene, deserve to be strong."
As the boat reached the destination, Olivia quickly climbed onto the anti-fall fence. I followed after securing the cargo, and we both pulled the boat up onto the dock.
The boat weighed about 140kg, and with two of us, we could easily lift it. We hid it near a small wooded area next to the retreat point.
As we climbed the stairs of a luxurious apartnt with a 100kg load, Olivia headed toward the Icarus weapons storage hidden deep inside the Citizen’s Culture Center.
"…I heard this place used to be an apartnt worth millions of dollars."
However, there was no trace left of its forr glory.
There were a few shriveled corpses scattered around, with words and phrases half-scribbled on the walls. Naturally, the content was not pleasant. Whether you were rich or poor, the virus had swept through the world equally.
Fortunately or unfortunately, the virus had stopped spreading once its hosts were dead, and it had nearly wiped itself out, leaving only its short lifespan behind.
It was truly an ironic situation.
Climbing up to the rooftop was a harrowing experience. It wasn’t extrely difficult, but it wasn’t easy either.
The first thing that had to be done was to install various equipnt on the roof. A dium-sized communication device, a drone hub, and optical camouflage for hiding the equipnt, among other things.
The good thing was, once the heavy items were placed on the roof, they could be operated from inside the luxurious apartnt using the Icarus gear. Fortunately, the gear also provided detailed instructions on what to do.
After a while, while I was still setting things up, Olivia ca up.
"Good work."
On her back, there were two massive sniper rifles, and in her hands, she was holding sothing that looked like a giant cylinder wrapped in what appeared to be bare wires. It didn’t take long for to realize it was an ergency escape rope.
In case of an ergency, she would drop the rope and escape using a harness... but was it really safe?
As if trying to dispel my doubts, Olivia spoke.
"Considering the gravitational acceleration and body weight of mutants, the shock they’d receive when hitting the ground at terminal velocity is about 300,000 newtons. So, you’d be crushed by sothing weighing around 30 tons."
"...And so?"
"The Icarus gear's shield can withstand that level of shock, and when you factor in the shock absorption from the nanomachines, as long as your falling posture is correct, you can survive with only moderate injuries."
"That doesn't help at all…"
"On average, it takes about 15 seconds to reach terminal velocity after falling. 300,000 newtons is the worst-case scenario. In buildings like this one, the force is probably no more than 150,000 newtons, so it’s highly likely you’ll only suffer light injuries."
"..."
Should I thank her for telling that, or should I be grateful for the technology of the Icarus gear?
I thought to myself that I hoped I would never have to jump out of a building.
Anyway, Olivia casually tossed the explosive aside, set down her weapons, and carefully placed the duffel bag she had been carrying.
When she opened it, what poured out was... what looked like dozens of kilograms of M112 block explosives and various types of explosives resembling grenades, but they were real!
I was speechless, my mouth hanging open. Olivia then added.
"Sooner or later, the subunit here and the escaped convicts from Brooklyn will run into each other. This is sothing that can control the timing of that 'eting.'"
She grinned, and I could hear the amusent in her voice.
"Hey, rookie, are you interested in IEDs?"
My expression completely vanished.
Olivia was... a bit stranger than I had expected.
I was just glad I was normal.
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