I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun

Chapter 692

"Sixth regular communication concluded. There is no change from the previous message. After cross-checking with UAV reconnaissance data, it has been confirmed that there were no detections."

"Are these bastards… seriously unaware of what happened in Lower Manhattan? Are they for real?"

"It seems that way."

A day passes. Then two. Three days go by.

The lights in Lower Manhattan still haven't gone out. After connecting to the 33 Thomas Street building and the Russian-Chinese allied forces' network, the National Security Agency begins analyzing the situation faster than ever before.

This also applied to Artemis. Logan and Lorentina literally wreaked havoc in Kip’s Bay. Likewise, Olivia and Eugene swallowed the entire enemy network in Lower Manhattan.

Among the support officers who stayed behind, no one had imagined Eugene would devour the network whole, but no one had seriously entertained such a thought either.

No one could have imagined Eugene, like an anaconda, strolling around with a ridiculously harmless sound in his wake while doing something so audacious.

In any case, the sudden intelligence-counterintelligence operation by the NSA was truly an absurd situation.

If they were to ask first, they'd have to quickly devise a scenario to deceive the enemy headquarters in New Haven, while also gathering the dead allied forces’ uniforms and firearms in Lower Manhattan—evidence to fabricate that the network hadn’t been compromised.

However, after a day and two, no significant information emerged. Instead, they kept talking about needing supplies for New Haven, or asking if they could send some alcohol—utter nonsense.

The NSA was baffled, but still had to carry on with their tasks.

Meanwhile, the expeditionary forces headquarters in New Haven was incredibly easy to deceive.

• [Have you found out why transport aircraft have been frequent around Manhattan?]
• [It’s simply speculated to be for civilian support. Some transport aircraft with optical and infrared capabilities belong to Artemis and are confirmed to be for arming rioters near Central Park.]
• [I see. Have transport aircraft been frequently moving in Manhattan recently?]
• [We’ve confirmed they’re still flying regularly. Based on communication equipment in this headquarters building, it’s suspected that this will gradually expand, likely targeting major cities.]

“…Alright. It was naturally slipped in.”

"Although there was no clear message, I believe those greedy bastards know that something similar will soon happen in New Haven. If they have surface-to-air missiles, things will be different..."

"Let’s see if we can convince them further. We need to ask if they have anti-air assets for reconnaissance prevention. Whether they’ll answer properly is uncertain though."

One, two, three.

Even just the intel gathered so far was a huge pile, and there was more to come. And the NSA had secured a wealth of high-level intel in the short three-day regular communications.

One piece of intel was—just as expected—the fact that the enemy naval crew, landing in the US, were radiating a disturbing atmosphere. But that had happened quite some time ago.

The reason was simple. After landing in New Haven, most of the crew’s personal grievances were resolved. In return, only 10 out of 140 personnel remained aboard the submarine, a rare and unprecedented occurrence.

Of course, from the US and NSA’s perspective, it was just a comedy.

Naturally, the crew aboard the upgraded submarine had not fared much better.

After enduring months of deprivation, the soldiers who landed in New Haven became raiders, more knowledgeable than others, and when around 250 heavily armed regular army thugs set foot on US soil, they took everything they could carry.

They resembled locusts more than people, but fortunately, New Haven barely managed to meet their needs.

For about a week.

As soon as their basic desires—fresh air, walking outside, eating outside food—were satisfied, they were happy for a moment, but once those needs were fulfilled, their thoughts reverted to the same selfish desires.

The conflict between those encouraging and those preventing it led to this result.

"The conflict between Colonel Sergey Zalov, the captain of Vladivostok, and Lieutenant Colonel Andrei Borodin, his deputy, has escalated into a full-blown rebellion, almost to the point of exploding..."

"Both sent messages privately, asking if about 20 of them could return to New Haven for support. Should we go out and have some fun?"

"This is some comedy. It's almost a waste that we're the only ones witnessing this."

The rough assumption was made.

After a long underwater mission, the crew finally reached land. To manage morale, they sent some crew out, only for 130 of the 140 to roam outside. This had to be insane from the captain's perspective.

Colonel Zalov must have thought it was madness, trying to get these reckless kids to return, but logically, who would want to go back? Violations of military law and disobedience were common.

However, this was still better than what happened aboard the upgraded submarine. Over there, they had even killed each other—this was the information provided by the other side.

Given the absurdity of the situation, this information had to be shared with the Icarus operators.

The NSA called in all the Icarus operators, including those who had just received their new gear, and shared all the gathered information.

It didn’t take long before laughter echoed from all corners.

"...What the hell is this?"

"Pfft... Hahaha..."

"...Aren’t you laughing too much?"

"Look at these bastards—coming into someone else’s house with dirty boots, fighting amongst themselves. If we're lucky, we might just end up taking the submarine entirely."

"Are you joking? How are we going to find the operators to run it? You’re not suggesting that the same crew can operate the submarine, right?"

"Are you crazy? Everything from doctrine to systems is different. But still, it’s better than scuttling it, right?"

While everyone threw in their comments, the support officers and NSA agents listening in chuckled.

"Just a year ago, we couldn’t even imagine hearing such things. The idea of seizing a foreign submarine—truly impressive."

"Unprecedented."

"Well, an unprecedented event in itself was how many people died from a single virus. At this point, 'precedent' is an irrelevant word... we might as well rewrite the rules for urban warfare from scratch."

As they said.

The people gathered here were the survivors of the viral outbreak that had wiped out more than half of humanity. What that meant was clear: They had to write their own history of survival—and victory.

The conversation continued, and discussions about what actions to take began.

The strategy was simple. Locate the enemy, eliminate them, and prevent the submarine’s departure. To stop the submarine, the solution was easy—wipe out all the crew in New Haven like a blender.

The problem was that they couldn’t know exactly where the crew members were scattered, but deploying reconnaissance drones would make it possible. The real issue was how well they could coordinate their movements.

Like fitting puzzle pieces, the conversation continued.

"The polar bear and delta friends have a lot of ship attack experience, right? How about submarine infiltration?"

"They’ve trained, but I doubt they’ve ever infiltrated a modern enemy submarine..."

"We don’t have the schematics for the submarine, but... we’ll have to make do. We don’t have many available personnel, so we’ll do what we can. The Air Force can drop supplies with tracking devices... Helicopters for entry and exit?"

"What about HALO drops?"

"That’s going to be tricky unless we develop a dedicated parachute for mutants. Let’s split into two and go with two Silent Hawks."

"Then, let’s finish the operation in under two hours. After the operation starts, we’ll set small objectives and leave the rest to individual judgment. Sounds good?"

"Sounds good."

And so, the operation plan was quickly set and divided into various details.

The preparations—like attaching tracking devices to supplies—were immediately issued and would be carried out as quickly as possible.

Of course, they weren’t the only ones making preparations. Apart from the missions that required boots on the ground, high-ranking officers from the army, navy, and air force were also preparing separate operations.

For example, laying sonar and mines along the narrow maritime route into Long Island Sound after the two submarines attempt to flee.

One thing was certain: They had no intention of letting the enemy escape.

Of course, that wasn’t the end.

"I’ve heard Manhattan’s northern part is pretty noisy these days."

"The Bronx gang that went down to Brooklyn is moving back up. I heard they’re fighting fiercely with the cleaners there. There are just too many Rikers. It looks like a full regiment poured in."

"Looks like they’ll be deployed right after the New Haven operation. This hard a schedule is the first in 20 years of military life..."

"What else can we do? We’re just repeating what we did in Kensington."

"What did you do there?"

"We shot about a thousand drugged-up bastards and the gangs selling them drugs. Looks like we’re going to do something similar here."

Logan scratched his head, irritated, but Lorentina laughed and added:

"These gangs are packing automatic weapons and rocket launchers thanks to Artemis. Just a heads up."

"...No way. You must be joking?"

"I hope it’s a joke. Anyway, it’ll take about three days to deploy, so everyone should adjust their condition."

"I never thought Philadelphia would be better. Damn..."

It was truly a dark time, but this was just the beginning.

The Omega Virus was nearly gone, but the broken world still demanded more blood.

• Zodiac knew something. He had deliberately pushed our forces into the inferno.
• We need to kill him. Before we do, we need to make him spill everything. Over a thousand died there. Hound’s dead too.
• We need to pick him off now. He’s a clever bastard, so we can’t afford to give him time.
• Damn it, most of the combat forces are crushed. It’ll take a while to reorganize them.
• Then at least send those we can! After betraying Zodiac, take the deserters in and offer them amnesty if they bring back his head!

"...Of course, that bastard."

"What will we do, boss?"

"They should have the decency to at least acknowledge what they’ve eaten up."

Not ignorant but certainly not stupid, the Rikers, and Zodiac, who had planted bugs in the communication equipment used by the few Rikers aware of this situation.

She activated the communicator and pressed the large red button, the emergency rescue request to Central Park.

The operation still had three days to go, but Central Park wasn’t going to rest.

"Do we really have to rescue that guy?"

"Great suggestion from the start. If this wasn’t the place for discussing how to rescue him, it’d be worth debating."

"Let’s think the other way around. Why wouldn’t we save him? He’s helped Central Park more than anyone else."

"Just kidding, just kidding. Damn it, we’ll save him. But that guy... is he a guy? Anyway, if we’re just bringing him back, fine, but if we need to bring back hundreds, think of how many people we need to mobilize. I heard there are over 5,000 escapees in Brooklyn. What if they all show up during the rescue?"

"So what? Should we call in air support like a Spectre (a nickname for AC-130)?"

"That’d be nice."

That very evening, at 10 PM, the New Haven operation plan was quickly drawn up. The briefing was happening in the Central Park HQ briefing room, devoid of any artificial light or intentionally blocked. It was all due to the message received just minutes earlier.

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t even a message, but the emergency escape request sent from one of the external agents stationed in the command center.

But there was a reason why it was met with such indifference.

"To bring hundreds at once, we’d need five transport planes, right?"

"Bringing the escapees here doesn’t sit well with me. What are they going to do when they get here?"

"Half of them are technicians. But honestly, that’s not our problem. Let’s just bring them in and sort it out later."

"Great. After we go, they won’t sleep all night trying to sort out the personnel."

"It’s gonna be a headache."

Just as they said.

If it were just one person, or even ten, sending one helicopter would be fine, but with hundreds, it wasn’t that simple. And as mentioned, the people they needed to bring weren’t just escapees and criminals. It was a difficult situation. That’s why HQ was in deep trouble.

But as expected, things took an unexpected turn.

Zodiac, no longer hiding, urgently said:

"Damn it, about 100 out of the 300 already betrayed me and ran to the other side. I promised to help them defect, and now two-thirds of the 150 combatants are aiming their guns at me!"

"...That’s a strange situation. So, the number of available transport planes has dropped from five to three. How many escapees are headed to Port Hamilton?"

"Damn it, I don’t know! At least 500 are coming, goddammit! Plus about 100 traitors, so around 600 will be pouring in!"

"Damn."

There was no longer any care for appearance.

The operators had already sensed what was about to happen and were beginning the emergency deployment procedures. They were gearing up and grabbing weapons.

Outside, tilt-jet planes were preparing for takeoff. Engines and weapons were checked, and pilots who had been sleeping or preparing to sleep were hastily summoned.

Though upper management hadn’t said anything, Henry had already verbally given orders, "Unannounced emergency operations will be entirely at the discretion of the operators."

The operators delivered their needs, and upper management responded.

When everything was ready, three transport planes, one reconnaissance plane, and one UAV equipped with six CBU-115 cluster bombs were ready to take off.

How long did it take?

"Task force Dagger has launched. There may be collateral damage, so evacuate civilians south of Port Hamilton. The north will be a firestorm."

"...Understood. When will they arrive?"

"The UAV will arrive in two minutes and bomb the northern part of Port Hamilton first. Extraction team will arrive in four minutes."

No more words were needed.

In four minutes, 11 Icarus operators would begin assaulting Brooklyn.

Tonight, New York would burn.