I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun

"I never thought I’d come back alive... but this...”

"There's no way that would happen. We don’t fail over a disadvantage like that."

"Is our young wolf okay? He looks mentally exhausted, to say the least."

"...No, the situation was just a bit of a shock, that's all."

Early August, Central Park HQ.

In the early hours, just an hour after the mission started, several operators from two late-arriving transport planes stumbled out, looking exhausted.

The scent of gunpowder clung to their bodies, and oddly, there was little smell of sweat. The operation itself hadn’t lasted long enough for that. Even Rapland felt the same way.

Pushing aside the lingering sense of regret, Rapland struggled to step out of the transport plane. She hadn’t expected the air in Central Park to feel so refreshing.

While letting out a deep breath, grateful for life itself, the Dagger Team wiped away the sweat that started to flow late.

Moreover, if there was a silver lining, it was that the mission wasn’t a failure. The Icarus Gear contained data on Jordan Amherst, which would later be confirmed and safely discarded.

Knowing this, the Dagger Team ruffled Rapland’s hair and added:

"Good job. The situation was tough, but you kept up well."

"...It’s all thanks to everyone. I’m grateful for your help."

"At least you didn’t have to shoot anyone. It’s an experience you have to go through if you really plan to become an operator, but that’s not the important part."

"..."

"Alright, let’s have a snack while we debrief. You come along too, young wolf."

"Could we stop using the word 'snack'...?"

Of course, it had no effect.

The pilots of Photon 1, who had been transporting the Dagger Team all over, briefly greeted them before trudging off to their quarters. The Dagger Team, leaving behind some fatigue, headed toward the briefing room.

The team, placing their rifles slowly on the floor and tossing their gear with a thud, sat down in the chairs. Some of the mutated members, excluding Eugene, outright lay down on the floor, but no one stopped them.

After all, it was the mutants who had participated in the densest firefights.

Owens, wiping the young member’s face—still marked with blood from the battle—added:

"Good work, Eugene. How did it go?"

"...It was tough. But I don’t think I caused too much trouble."

"As long as you didn’t get your ankle caught, that’s fine. Honestly, when you can shoot the enemy, shooting them is the best option. We had no choice but to use melee weapons because there were just too many enemies."

"Getting used to it, I guess. Reviewing is important, but sometimes it’s not necessary."

"Seems like you’re getting used to shooting. At that point, I think it’s fine."

Over time, Eugene’s body began to exude the scent of a skilled operator.

Countless battles and the presence of a good instructor had transformed her into a true operator, and now, she was someone anyone would recognize as someone who handles a gun well.

She was fully aware that she had killed someone, but at the same time, she was concerned about the cleaning of her gun. Another victim of the post-apocalypse was right there.

But, as always,

The lack of compassion and the lost past could always be filled with more love and affection.

And for the Dagger Team, love and affection came in the form of physical contact.

"How about a hug for our little wolf? It’s been a while, after all."

"Huh? Wait... Uwah!"

"Doesn’t it remind you of when we went to Grand Central Terminal? Back then, it was just me and the shark."

"No, there are other people around..."

Of course, Olivia's maternal instincts didn’t work on her.

At this point, Eugene was once again enveloped by something warm, even overwhelming, as if the whole world was melting away. She had a look on her face like everything was dissolving into the warmth.

The men, including Owens, didn’t pay it much mind and continued their conversation, while Laurentina gave Rapland an odd look.

"Are you interested too, Wolf?"

"...Isn’t that harassment?"

"Really? Well then, I won’t ask again next time—"

"I didn’t mean it that way… maybe, like, reservations or something..."

"Bzzzzt."

At that moment, Rapland lowered her head with a look of despair, her ears drooping. Meanwhile, Laurentina shifted her gaze slyly to Logan, who reddened and looked ready to punch someone.

It was harassment, of course, but Laurentina herself had undergone physical changes, making it a joke that only worked because of that. It was a kind of self-destructive humor. Of course, Laurentina had adapted, but Logan hadn’t, which was why it worked.

The joke ended there.

With a sigh, the Dagger Team sat back in their chairs, checking the reconnaissance photos of Boston, which had been half-destroyed by a missile strike.

"So... those bastards have finally set foot in America. Maine and Boston, first, huh?"

"From the results of the enemy’s communication interception, their command structure isn’t much different from what we anticipated, but when we checked with recon, the troop size was a bit too small to be a full brigade. Something’s off here."

"Also, the situation itself was a complete mess. There were hardly any coherent soldiers. For airborne troops, they were unbelievably dumb."

"Tell me about it."

"...Was that moving around like idiots?"

It was a remark Rapland didn’t quite understand, but if the Dagger Team said so, maybe that was the case.

She thought back to the firefight that had occurred just an hour ago. In fact, it was hard to even call it a firefight, as she hadn’t directly participated, but she’d learned a lot.

There wasn’t enough space to say everything, but one thing was clear:

Operations could spiral out of control in the blink of an eye or head in unexpected directions.

But that was just one of the key lessons learned during the operation.

The most important fact HQ was focused on—the one the Dagger Team had mentioned earlier—was that the enemy had finally landed in the northeastern U.S.

The Dagger Team had seen the Y-20 transport planes and observed the paratroopers dropping in from there. Of course, the paratrooper deployment wasn’t perfect, but that wasn’t the issue.

The U.S. had been invaded.

"I’m not sure where they’re based, but wouldn’t the transport plane tracks show up on radar near Boston?"

"They might not have had the capacity. Even the latest surface-to-air missiles have a range of about 250km. That’s not enough to reach Boston. Plus, short-range surface-to-air missile deployment along the coastline isn’t finished yet."

"That’s annoying."

A brief silence.

"Looks like the alliance is targeting the northeastern U.S. for an attack. Was there any formal declaration of war, or... no, nothing like that. I guess not."

"Shouldn’t we stop them? Do we have any forces capable of moving north?"

"Not many. The problem is that the army, navy, and air force are all scattered around the U.S. The only thing moving is the 12th Carrier Battle Group under the 2nd Fleet."

"Speaking of which, it would’ve been easier if those guys helped. Are they still not ready?"

"Do you think a carrier battle group can just move like that? For the army, one carrier battle group is equivalent to a corps. It’s made up of a division-sized air wing, one air defense cruiser, and four destroyers."

"...Alright, alright. I get it. You really know your stuff."

Surprisingly, despite everything proceeding smoothly, aligning the timeline was difficult.

That fact alone showed just how severely the U.S.’s capabilities had been degraded. But in this kind of situation, it was business as usual. No one here was unaware that getting this far was nothing short of a miracle.

But that was just the beginning of the great war. The real battle started now. Defeat would mean destruction, and the U.S. would face unimaginable pain for a long time.

If there had been more time, could they have prepared enough?

Anyone asked that question wouldn’t be able to answer affirmatively. But if they were asked if the outcome could have been different with more time... that was uncertain as well.

They weren’t ignorant of that.

And through this event, Rapland truly understood why the Dagger Team had made such a suggestion.

At least to survive the extreme conditions ahead, they needed to be prepared, both mentally and physically. This was just a vaccination.

She opened her mouth.

"...Well, this might sound a bit weird..."

"Hmm?"

"When’s the next operation?"

"Could you just give me the gear first...?"

"You’ve been thinking like this? Well, done well. How about we play a bit more until the sun comes up?"

"Kyaaah-!"

Of course, she cursed herself for saying that less than 15 minutes later.

It was just another day.

"Finally, the second Icarus operators have been born. Looks like we’ve got some strong contenders here. I wonder if they’ll suffer the same way we did from the gear."

"That’s unlikely. Since we were the test subjects providing data, they probably stabilized in just a day or two."

"That’s something I’m enviously upset about. Anyway, see you later. Now, we have to divide the task force personnel for interviews, right?"

A day passes, then two.

As HQ was busy analyzing the data on Jordan Amherst that the Dagger Team had brought in, Central Park was busy in another way. Running the shell of the U.S. government was a necessary task.

Meanwhile, the Dagger Team had a lot to do. Despite nearly experiencing a catastrophe in Boston, they had a lot of work ahead of them.

They had been tasked with setting up the new Icarus Task Force.

Task force members from the Dagger Unit were searching for suitable personnel for the strike team.

The Icarus Task Force’s Eagle Team members were looking for suitable personnel for the reconnaissance team.

Of course, besides that, meeting the new operators joining was necessary. Having already traveled all over the U.S. to observe how the task forces operated, it was now the advance team’s duty to inform the newcomers.

And how much time had passed?

Olivia opened the door and entered the room.

"By the looks on your faces, I assume the Icarus Gear was successfully implanted. Welcome. I’m Olivia from the Dagger Team."

"Nice to meet you. Carmen Johansson Mitchell. I’m a First Sergeant with the 75th Ranger Regiment, direct command reconnaissance company (RRC). If we compare rank or age, we might be similar, but... damn, I wish I were younger."

"Who said anything about being younger, you old man."

At that moment, Rapland and Eugene exchanged glances behind them.

As always, there were no operators in special forces without unique personalities.

Carmen looked at the two behind him. His gaze grew dim for a moment before clearing up. It wasn’t that he had lost his mind, but rather, he was searching through his memories to match visual data.

And after a while...@@novelbin@@

"I imagine it wasn’t easy carrying recruits around like this."

"This furry one still has a long way to go, but you’d be surprised if you knew what kind of operations this smooth one has planned. Even if she’s a rookie, she’s going to be a hell of an operator."

"...She’s been here for barely six months, and it’s only been a little over three months since she became a trainee operator... Wait, should I have noticed that we’ve been taking her along in missions all this time?"

"Did you figure it out?"

Pat pat.

Nothing happened when Eugene’s head was patted, but when Rapland’s hair was ruffled, it immediately began shedding.

In an instant, the air purifier in the room turned from green to yellow, and while Rapland shot a glare at the other direction, Carmen chuckled and added:

"Yeah. I can tell. She’s a wolf. I think I understand why you brought her along."

"If we raise her right, she’ll become an irreplaceable asset in the reconnaissance team. Maybe you and I will end up taking care of her, so how about we make nice first?"

"Can we not just back off for now? That little tail-wagging kid has already started to take shape, so I guess that’s okay, but carving a marble in these rough times is just too much."

"Oh my, you’re making the others uncomfortable."

Anyway, the introduction of the new trainees ended there.

As Eugene and Rapland quietly left, Olivia and Carmen sat down at the table and began to talk about various things.

First, the topic was about the operation team leader when Olivia and the Eagle Team would later branch out to form a separate task force—there were no objections to this part.

It was because of the directive from HQ.

"It’s a shame we can’t have a mutant as the team leader. Honestly, with their expertise, they might be better suited."

"Stop joking. The CCT and direct command reconnaissance units have slightly different codes of conduct and manuals."

"If they weren’t in the air force, their ranks would probably be about the same."

"...Anyway, let’s stop talking about that. We’ve already long forgotten the usual standards for operators. You should understand why they can’t take the team leader position."

"Of course."

A brief silence.

With a slight sigh, the conversation continued.

"I heard about what happened in Boston. The great war is almost upon us."

"Yeah."

"You probably already know, but after the immigrant issue we solved at Central Park, HQ’s vigilance has increased. You probably know better than anyone about preparations against a potential Icarus operator betrayal."

"...Hmph."

"Thanks to that, recruiting operators has become even harder. For the task force to be set up and operational, we need at least 10 people, but we’ve only managed to gather three or four. We’ll likely have to cooperate with the Dagger Team until everyone’s here."

At the same time, a heavy silence fell.

After a while, Olivia spoke again.

"It’s going to be a long and hard road. Whether you spent time in the Ranger Regiment, 24th Special Tactics Battalion, The Unit, or DEVGRU... no matter where you’ve been, you’ll face situations far more taxing and diverse than anything before. Physically and mentally, you’re going to face unimaginable hardships."

"..."

"But I guess that’s fine with you?"

"Of course. The time I’ve endured has been for moments like this."

"Yeah."

She reached out, and Carmen took her hand.

The words came.

"Welcome to the Icarus Operators."

One by one,

The pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place.