I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun

"Signal detected nearby. The extraction team is coming. Finally, we can leave this hot and humid place."

"...I don't know if this is the right choice. If it weren’t for the gear, we’d be sending false positions every so often. It might’ve been better to just stay in Miami and gather information there."

"If that idiot Alejandro hadn’t ordered us to join in person, it would’ve been easier. The chickenhawks always think the same. They’re always insistent that they need loyal forces and a solid base. It’s such a cute idea they always hold onto."

Through the thick darkness, various sounds mixed.

The hum of insects, the rustling of wind, the sounds of wild animals roaming, and so on... but there were no human sounds among them.

Cuba, with a population of just over 10 million, had seen its population drastically reduced to less than half due to the virus, and now, the already sparse population had thinned even more, making the place even more desolate.

In an unknown facility located about a few dozen kilometers south of Havana, the capital, three people were talking, looking like they were sketching out suspicion in their conversation.

A silhouette moved through the darkness, picking up an old piece of paper from the floor.

The paper had long since faded, and the thick layer of dust made it hard to see, but the Icarus gear’s correction clearly showed that the writing on the paper wasn’t in Spanish.

It was Chinese.

That was why the three operators had come here.

"I knew that syndicate or whatever was whining about needing the core module from the Chinese antenna base, but do we really need to send high-level operators to retrieve it?"

"It’s better than using dumb and unreliable people. It's excessive, though... but honestly, I don’t trust people who think they can control the battlefield with just this one module."

"You're too late to say something this dumb now."

Securing the core module of the antenna base.

Originally, this mission should have been a relatively simple one, even if the operators didn't have the Icarus gear. But the reason why the fallen Icarus operators had secured it was clear.

The facility was located in China, created to monitor Florida and the southern areas, tracking the locations of high-value facilities. If it had worked as intended, it would have been able to transmit sensitive data about the United States to mainland China, about 14,000 km away, though the reverse was also possible.

After stealing the base’s core components, they planned to read the allied forces’ communications systems and gather intelligence about the enemy’s plans. It was somewhat similar to the Enigma decryption during World War II.

However, if it had been used in a normal way, they wouldn’t have had to send anyone suspicious to retrieve it in the first place.

"I still don’t think this plan will work."

"But on the flip side, there’s nothing more solid than this. Think about it. After the Omega virus outbreak, with the population plummeting, these crazy Asians and Slavic assholes are planning to invade the U.S. The end of the world is inevitable. That’s one thing that can’t happen."

"I get it. So you set up... a kind of insurance plan. But looking at this situation, calling it insurance is just covering up the truth. After the war, when the U.S. is shattered, they’re just deciding who to side with to rebuild the government."

"And you, you took a bet on that chickenhawk Alejandro."

"Damn it."

Syndicate.

It was a group of high-ranking government officials preparing for the post-war world and aiming to rebuild a new U.S. after the Third World War ended. But the problem was that President Henry was still alive.

Moreover, strictly speaking, President Henry had only been in office for 7 months.

Considering that, this wasn’t an authorized formation of a new government—essentially, it was nothing less than treason. But the Syndicate had no intention of denying it. It was, quite literally, an act of rebellion.

But the thing about treason is that it only matters when the public power is alive.

As always, if you can overpower your opponent through competition and survive, that's the story.

"Right now, all we have are skeptics. That’s inevitable. But there’s no guarantee that it’ll stay that way. As the war continues, more people will start supporting this idea, that’s a fact."

"Is it just wishful thinking?"

"As more people die, it’s natural that more will question the war. Don’t you think there will be those hoping for an alternative? Don’t you think at least someone will propose strengthening agreements?"

"Damn it, fine. Let’s just say you’re right."

A brief silence.

After a moment of thinking, the three realized that the Syndicate’s intentions were clear. They wanted control of the new government, and the easiest way to achieve that was one thing: increase the number of supporters.

There was no need to go out of their way to do this. As the war dragged on, the current government’s approval ratings would plummet, and the people’s lives would continue to deteriorate, likely making them want anything other than this.

The U.S. military, led by the current government, would lose strength fighting against the allied forces, and the Syndicate would just wait for that moment to naturally rise to power.

But...

"...The Icarus operators led by Director Solomon in New York. Was it Dagger Team?"

"Those crazy bastards. There’s word that they’ve endlessly succeeded at impossible operations. The operational data and personal clearance for their mission were classified beyond top secret."

"With them continuing to inflict unilateral damage on the allied forces, do you think the Syndicate can handle that? Their plans will unravel."

"No one knows. I’ve never met them... but no one’s going to join that shady guy, Webb."

"Don’t we have to do something?"

"Well, are we going to kill them? How? We don’t even know who’s part of their team, and no ordinary method will work. Are we supposed to distort command orders and throw them into enemy territory?"

Silence.

It was a suggestion that made them shake their heads, but they soon decided to disregard it. The reason was simple. A helicopter was approaching their location.

The contact from Artemis, which they had forgotten about. They had tried to approach the problem differently from the Northern Headquarters in New York, presenting their own methods. It was here in Cuba that the three first encountered the Syndicate.

About 2 to 3 months had passed, and although they had achieved some results, the time had come.@@novelbin@@

They went outside. It was far too late to turn back. There had been no additional contact, but the three understood that it was highly likely that the Southern Command was already looking for them.

And honestly, they didn’t really want to go back.

"It's coming."

"Let’s see if the path we chose was right. If not... we’ll try to strike a deal with Alejandro, trading him for some leniency. We’ll sync our stories from here on out."

"That’s not a bad option."

As they said, there was a way out.

At least, that’s what they thought. They didn’t know how others would see it, but they didn’t care. Only the three of them knew what had happened here.

If there had been no escape route, they wouldn’t have agreed to the proposal in the first place.

A transport plane was approaching from a distance.

From tens of kilometers to a few, and a number countable with one hand. The transport plane, emitting a soft hum, was a strange shape that you would never typically see. It was close to the latest model.

At least it had the right equipment. The three waited for the plane to land on the open field.

---Boom!

At that moment, a missile from somewhere struck the side of the fuselage.

The transport plane split in half almost instantly, exploding into hundreds of burning fragments, crashing into the soft earth and splitting the ground apart as it was devoured by the field.

This was something they hadn’t anticipated at all. The three stared in shock, and then, as if their bodies had been released from a freeze, they rushed back into the facility.

But that wasn’t the end.

-[Alert: Zackary Trench, Icarus Operator assigned to Southern Command, South Division. // Designated as a Log Agent as of now.]

-[Alert: Gabriel Railey, Icarus Operator assigned to Southern Command, South Division. // Designated as a Log Agent as of now.]

-[Alert: Antares Berger, Icarus Operator assigned to Southern Command, South Division. // Designated as a Log Agent as of now.]

In an instant, the gear turned red, and a warning sound echoed.

Only then did they realize that Southern Command hadn’t been sitting idly, but by then, it was far too late.

A massive transport plane, much larger than a helicopter, performed an elegant yet abrupt maneuver as it descended toward the ground. The rear ramp opened, and three figures jumped out.

Sadly, the three Log agents couldn’t see this. But that didn’t matter.

A clear female voice, forced into their network, echoed in their ears.

"Zackary Trench, Gabriel Railey, Antares Berger. You’re all listening, so let me be brief. We’ll be securing the prisoners and retrieving the Icarus gear. You’ve been handed over to us, so if you have anything to say, take it up with Southern Command."

"...What?"

"Task Force Dagger, Striking Team... No need for the callsign. As part of the execution team, we’ve come to detain you. If you don’t want to die here, cooperate."

A chilling silence followed.

The fallen operators were left dumbfounded, unable to say anything, the word "execution team" hanging heavily in the air.

But that didn’t matter.

That was the role Dagger Team had been given.

"No objections, then. We’ll begin execution. The gear will be taken, and you’ll be locked up. Brace yourselves."

As the evidence of their betrayal was already secured, there was no need to worry about anything else.

The pulse, powerful enough to pierce through their bodies, detonated, and the battle began.

"Show them what you’ve got, rookie. It's time to show them just how terrifying it is for the enemy when skills are used at the right moment."

"Understood. Deploying tracking mines. I’ll keep following the enemy. Thermite drill and oxidizer are ready."

"We don’t have the strike drones, so we’ll manage with tracking mines. Moving in."

Screech!

Four tracking mines, faintly glowing orange, rolled over the soft dirt and slowly disappeared into the entrance of a concrete building standing in the middle of the thick forest.

As this happened, the three fallen operators, including myself, followed the Seeker Mine and entered the building. Explosions echoed from all around. The traps that had been disabled by the pulse went off, triggering the mines.

The enemy kept climbing the stairs, heading to the upper floors, but aside from passive responses, there were no attacks. However, we had the option to go on the offensive.

---Wham!

"Pulse detected. The Log Agent used it."

"Reversing phase interference and releasing response pulses. Erasing our location."

And this was the first move.

It wasn’t just about using available skills; it was about analyzing and counteracting them. To the enemies, what seemed like a position being detected would quickly disappear, and they’d think it had appeared somewhere else entirely.

As this was happening, we kept following the enemy’s location. The Seeker Mine led the way first, and we climbed the stairs after it. How long had it been? The orange glow turned red.

Several separated mines accelerated at an incredible speed, crossing the hallway, and exploded with a tremendous roar, shockwave, and flames.

But we couldn’t rush in just yet.

Turrets at key intersections began to activate, some of them fire turrets. Special incendiary liquids, a mix of liquid and aerosol, ignited, filling the hallway with white flames.

In an instant, the air heated up, and the oxygen levels in the corridor dropped. I charged the pulse again and released it forward. The turrets weakened, tilting as Laurentina manipulated the gear.

It didn’t take long for us to gain control of the turrets.

"Rookie, charge the oxidizer and drill. Let’s break through."

"Going!"

Brrrsh!

Multiple strange metal spikes shot into the wall, followed by a deafening sound. There were silent types, but the goal was to silence everything except for the drilling noise.

After charging the oxidizer and hitting the weakened wall, the wall started to melt and flow in a strange manner. Concrete melted, and the metal warped like candy.

Beyond the gaping hole in the wall, a fallen operator appeared. Antares Berger. Loading polyurethane chemical rounds, I shot one into the upper body and another into the lower body.

"Cough!"

"One down. Placing explosives on the body. Moving on."

"Don’t struggle to escape. The vibration sensors are connected. If you try to break out recklessly, your body will be torn to pieces."

"Placed. Reconfiguring Seeker Mine. Moving."

Cheeew!

The same process was repeated. The tracking mines dropped to the floor and followed those whose positions were already revealed. Laurentina manipulated the fire turrets she had taken control of to operate in the opposite direction.

The hallway lit up, and two figures fleeing could be seen. One was captured instantly, and the other froze in shock, unable to believe what had just happened.

This was the purpose of skills.

They would soon learn it firsthand.

"You don’t need me to tell you that running away won’t do you any good, do you?"

"If you want to lose your wrists, just keep running."

"...Aren’t we the bad guys?"

"Who cares about that? The strong ones are us."

...Well, that was true, but I couldn’t say it. Before I could add anything, the two of them bolted back into the hallway, and I had to follow along to assist.

Pulse, tracking mines, phase interference pulse, EMP, thermite charges, oxidizer, and so on.

It was completely different from when I sparred with Logan or Laurentina 1-on-1, but one thing was certain — the muscle memory I had developed worked perfectly.

To achieve results beyond the limit, combining muscle memory and improvisation was essential, but even with just the former, we could produce the results the two of them needed.

The battle was being recorded in real-time.

Aside from training drills, this was the first combat between operators. What results this would lead to in the future was unknown, but one thing was certain:

"Damn it, fucking hell—!"

"Zackary Trench identified. Beginning neutralization!"

For them, today would become a horrific nightmare.

Perhaps Dagger Team’s reputation was only just beginning.