"Photon 1, accelerate to maximum speed. We’ll activate the winch, so no matter what happens, get those people hanging down there up!"
"Of course, that goes without saying…!"
"Olivia! If we stay here any longer, we’re in big trouble! 30 seconds until Predator airspace!"
"Photon 1, within a 300-ter radius, at least 200 enemies are closing in on us! If you don’t want to watch us get torn to shreds, you better get here fast!"
"...There are too many of them. Where are all these guys coming from?"
"According to the intelligence collected by Dagger Team, they are likely gang mbers from the Bronx who have undergone partial physical modifications by Artemis."
"Director Solomon, didn’t we send Dagger Team to dismantle their command structure? They’re still moving under orders, even after we blew up the server rooms."
"Shouldn’t we just blow them all to pieces with physical ans?"
"We don’t have any available close air support. The phosphorus grenades Photon 1 used and the Predator drone Dagger Team is operating are all we have left at Central Park HQ."
Tension filled the room inside the Central Park HQ’s command center.
Support officers packed into the operations command were responsible for overseeing and directing actual missions. They were prepared to send whatever resources were necessary for operations at a mont’s notice.
However, in the highly protected inner section of Central Park, especially within the Ark’s bunker, there were much higher-ranking individuals watching the sa scene unfold.
To put it simply, if the operations command center could be considered the fingers, these people were the arm and head.
As expected, the ranks of those present in the highest command room were far from ordinary.
"Is there really nothing we can do for those guys right now?"
"At this mont, no, sir."
"Then let’s assu Dagger Team gets out of there. Let’s discuss how we should deal with the enemy forces still crawling around in the Bronx."
Naturally, in the Central Park HQ, only one person could be addressed as "sir."
Henry Michael Brayton, the current President of the United States. Presud partially missing at the mont, the President was present at Central Park.
And he wasn’t alone. Beside him, Solomon, the Director of Holand Security, was overseeing both the Departnt of Holand Security and its subsidiary, Icarus, after the Secretary of Holand Security, Alejandro Webb, had gone missing.
There were many others too, including Major General Dunning, the commander of the United States Joint Special Operations Command (JSOC), who was monitoring operations via hologram, and Chief of Staff Carl Landon.
Moreover, the majority of the living leadership of the United States had gathered in this command room.
Inside the not-so-small room, there were far more screens on the walls than people, and the mont the President opened the conversation, everyone began discussing the matter quickly.
"Whatever we do, we need to wipe out that area. Just last ti, one of Dagger Team almost died near there. If we don’t decimate the area, the enemy will keep pouring out like ants."
"I don’t believe anyone’s suggesting we launch a nuke. The operation zone is only about 10 kiloters from Central Park."
"How about using the precedent from Fort Hamilton? Currently, the Redstone Arsenal’s Army Aviation Missile Command (AMCOM) is on standby in preparation."
"Termite missiles? Do we still have any stock left?"
"Dark Eagle (LRHW, dium-range ballistic missiles) are on standby. They’ll reach the Bronx operation zone within 200 seconds."
As ntioned earlier, the Central Park HQ’s operations command could only send fire support and drones, but the highest command had the authority to unleash sothing much broader and more destructive.
Within seconds of the strategy being ford, everyone in the room looked toward the President, and Henry knew there was no hesitation here.
A ballistic missile launched from Alabama, slightly east of the United States' center, would reach New York in 200 seconds, and the 3 minutes and 20 seconds would be more than enough ti for Dagger Team to escape.
The President nodded, permitting the launch of the missile.
When Major General Dunning, who was operating the computers from the center, pressed Enter, the Bronx turned bright red.
"...This is the predicted damage zone. The Hudson Line, the 4th Line, and Line B will likely take so damage."
"Civilians?"
"...It's difficult to say, sir. Any civilians in the area are either non-existent or likely ard."
He nodded gravely.
Dunning’s words made sense. Artemis had, through so thod, modified people into combat forces, stripping them of the ability to think for themselves.
No one in the room believed that any civilians in the area would escape the effects of such "modifications." Therefore, the results they had projected would likely hold true.
The President gave his approval, and now, it was just a matter of implentation.
Once the President gave the order, things started moving quickly.
Henry issued the command, and it was passed through the command structure, reaching the operational staff. The order to launch the dium-range ballistic missiles was promptly relayed to AMCOM.
Soon after:
[Alert: LRHW launch sequence initiated.]
[Alert: Current speed - Mach 8. Ti to Mach 20: 30 seconds.]
Beep!
A large tir appeared on the biggest screen in the center of the highest command room, with the map of the United States' right half displayed.
Three missiles shot into the air.
The information was imdiately passed to the TOC and then quickly relayed to the Predator drone team firing missiles from the air.
And then—
New orders. Evacuate the operation zone imdiately. Three Dark Eagle dium-range ballistic missiles are heading towards the Bronx. ETA: 188 seconds.
"What? Are you kidding ? Photon 1! If you don’t want to see us torn to pieces down here, you better get over here quickly!"
"Photon 1, we’re already descending, but the resistance is fierce! We don’t have much ti left!"
"Damn it! Fire off all the remaining missiles in all directions and make it happen!"
The screen switched to show the sky, and lights falling from the air were visible.
The missile, attached to the drone, seed to fall leisurely at first, but then it accelerated and slamd into a rooftop filled with enemies, as flas erupted from the impact.
The firepower unleashed on the roof started to diminish significantly.
As Photon 1 spiraled carefully down, the missile that had missed the target exploded in mid-air, resembling anti-aircraft fire.
The transport began its descent, and Photon 1, after firing missiles, began to descend carefully as well.
The team took cover inside the transport while blasting nearby enemies.
"Let’s pick up speed to maximum, Photon 1. Move as fast as possible!"
Understood. Photon 1, taking Dagger Team aboard. We’ll return to base now."
The rear ramp of the transport closed, and the aircraft accelerated to 700 km/h.
Bronx was once again plunged into darkness.
Two minutes passed.
Three dium-range ballistic missiles, having briefly tasted the cold of space, plunged toward the ground in a fiery descent, hitting their targets with incredible speed.
Though it wasn’t a nuclear strike, the resulting flas from the missiles were enough to resemble sothing close to it, rising from the Jas J. Peters Veterans' Hospital, Bronx High School of Science, and Presbyterian Allen Hospital.
The impact of the missiles, far surpassing the power of a Daisy Cutter, reduced everything within a 300-ter radius of the impact zones to dust.
In that instant, dozens of blinding fireballs engulfed the ground.
The explosives, combustible aerosols, and thousands of modified gang mbers and Artemis's troops who hadn’t managed to escape were all used as fuel.
New York was quiet once more.
And it would remain so for the foreseeable future.
"...Dagger Team has returned. Officially declaring the completion of the Bronx operation at 2:44 AM."
"Estimated kill count: 6,611. Prisoners: 1,226. No additional figures confird. Mission objectives were exceeded. All air assets accounted for."
"Good work, everyone. Disband."
"Great job!"
Claps echoed through the TOC as it neared 3 AM. So operators took off their headsets, stretching as they stood, while others let go of the controls.
A deep sigh filled the room, and the sound of chairs moving could be heard as everyone began to leave. It was ti to head back to the barracks. With the tension slowly easing, the team staggered out of the building, their exhaustion evident.
Although they couldn’t sleep just yet, finishing the mission without losing a single operator was a major accomplishnt.
And then, especially, the last part...
Rapland, still deep in thought, stood up from her seat, though her expression was far from pleasant. Those who knew what she had been asked couldn’t help but look at her with mixed expressions.
'…Can I do this?'
No, the question itself was flawed. It wasn’t "Can I do this?" It was "I must do this."
If she couldn’t, she wouldn’t survive.
However, while she didn’t know what she had to learn, at least surviving in such dramatic monts... it wasn’t clear if she could survive hell, even if she was told it was dramatic.
With a sigh, she left the room.
It was still dark, but with the light pollution gone, the stars were visible, and the air felt fresh as the cars had disappeared.
And there, she saw Olivia.
"Whoa! When did you arrive!?"
"I just got here. Your expression is quite dramatic."
"Dammit, tell beforehand. You’re always so elusive."
"Care for a walk?"
It was clear. The conversation wasn’t going anywhere.
But since Rapland was physically inferior to Olivia, she couldn’t resist when Olivia’s arm rested on her shoulder. As always, Dagger Team’s presence carried the scent of the battlefield.
Trying to ignore it, Rapland suddenly spoke up.
"You’ll be fine, right, rookie?"
"Are you asking to do that? Do you want to cry right here? I will, I swear!"
"Just kidding, just kidding. I’m not asking you to do that. If the operation had gone smoothly, we would have been out of there without a hitch. But... not all operations go as planned."
"…"
And that was terrifying.
In such cases, one had to overco all obstacles with their own skills, but what worried her the most was that she couldn’t do that. And while she didn’t know it, that was the typical reaction of an ordinary person on the battlefield.
Rapland lowered her head and sighed.
Seeing this, Olivia patted her on the head.
"I’m not saying I’ll throw you into the battlefield right away. But, whether it’s or soone else, soday, you might be forced into that situation. So, think of it as learning how to survive so you won’t die."
"...Yeah."
"I’m sorry I can’t give you a clear answer. But the world we live in now is one where anyone who doesn’t fight hard enough won’t make it."
Olivia paused for a mont before continuing.
"Starting tomorrow, Dagger Team gets a few days off. If you have ti, co find . Don’t co after eating, though. You might end up vomiting."
"…If I don’t co, will you co looking for ?"
"I might. But don’t worry. I won’t treat you too harshly, rookie. Always hold your pride. Your past might be a bit complicated, but you’ve proven yourself in the anti."
Rapland nodded.
The night was still dark, and the road ahead was long. Rapland sensed that it was ti to part ways, and Olivia, as if to confirm this, patted her back.
She wasn’t sure how to respond just yet, but Olivia seed okay with that.
And as she prepared to give Olivia a subtle smile, she spoke.
"…By the way, I’ve noticed so of my combat shirts have been mysteriously missing. You didn’t steal them, did you?"
"Are you insane!? Seriously!?"
"Just kidding, just kidding. See you later!"
Whoosh!
As Olivia disappeared as quickly as an owl, Rapland blushed, puffing up her cheeks. Whether it was out of embarrassnt, imagination, or so other reason, only she knew.
The darkness ended, and morning was coming.
Reviews
All reviews (0)