I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun-Chapter 767: New York (13)

"Then, I guess we can say that the most urgent fires are out, right?"

"The problem is, it's not just one or two fires, it's like a dozen or so burning. That’s what makes it an issue."

"Now, after the operation, we're back and you're already causing a scene, huh? I think I need to just tape your mouth shut."

"No, what did I even do—Ubbub...!"

The Dagger team returned to Central Park.

What should I say? It hadn’t been long since the Dagger team was formed, and whenever they went out on an operation, people would cheer and clap when they saw them, but now, things weren’t quite the same.

However, instead... what can I say, there was respect. They’d salute, you know, the kind of thing where they didn’t really perform a full-on military salute, but everyone would kind of take care of them and treat them well.

If you suddenly ask why I’m saying all this... well, I guess it’s because it’s been a while since I felt that again. Honestly, if I were in the opposite position, I would probably say "thank you" too.

If every time we went out, we came back with a victory, I guess some respect is in order.

‘Of course, the operators were designed to bring victories even in such extreme situations, but...’

It’s not like the federal government gave a small budget to develop the gear. The amount spent was enough to cover several years’ worth of budgets for a major government department. So, something like this should be expected, right?

Of course, when you look at the incredible—no, even fundamental technology lines derived from developing the gear, and the potential to integrate those across society, it seems that they could easily recover the costs. But...

The world’s collapsed, what else can you do?

Anyway, that's not the important part.

As it was said, the Dagger team could confidently say that the most urgent fires were out.

They hadn’t retaken New York Stewart International Airport yet, and it couldn’t really be said that they had completely stopped the allied forces’ push to split Albany and New York, and during the retreat, they had around a hundred or so US military casualties. But...

The Dagger team seized the opportunity created by the counterattack, grabbing the throat of the enemy airborne brigade and snapping their necks cleanly. The bottom line was that the advance of the allied forces, whether southward or northward, had been stopped.

Because of that, they could now momentarily shift their attention elsewhere.

Lafland added.

"The Southern Command has completed the interrogation and analysis. There's no specific subject, but they say Dagger Team will understand what they mean with just this much."

"Those funny guys. But, did they know that much? They never even met former Minister Webb. To be precise, we broke his legs before they could meet him..."

"Sometimes, machines know more than people. Especially with things like locations and coordinates... The Southern Command said they could raid safe houses thanks to investigating the devices."

"Hmm."

"After checking one of them, we found something like this map."

As always, the results appeared as a hologram.

How long had it been? In front of me, a very simple map of the United States appeared. It was marked with dots here and there. And several of them were right on Washington D.C.

Updat𝓮d from freewēbnoveℓ.com.

Not that it’s easy to say, but with how much information was erased, this was almost like a successful deletion. I wondered what the reason was for marking those spots like that.

The answer came surprisingly quickly.

It was because Logan spoke up.

"Now that I think about it, the Syndicate isn't just Alejandro Webb. To establish a new government, they can't do it alone. Looking at these dots... hmm. Are they trying to draw in more surviving government officials?"

"But most of those guys are probably gathered in Central Park. Same as Washington D.C."

"First, we need to figure out what these dots are. Based on what Logan said, I think I have a guess..."

"Hmm."

A brief silence followed.

Then came more words.

"By the way, last time, we fought a Black Eagle from the Syndicate in Newark. Guys who get that kind of support likely only have someone like the Secretary of Homeland Security backing them."

"...That’s not wrong. Plus, looking at the current situation... No, actually, since they were reported missing, they might have been preparing before the Omega Virus even hit."

"Then, could it be that Alejandro Webb has some connection to the Omega Virus outbreak?"

However, that statement was denied by Laurentina.

"There may be a connection, but I don’t think it’s causal. If that were the case, Black Eagle wouldn’t have turned Jordan Amherst into a half-wit and extracted only his knowledge from his head."

"Well, maybe he was discarded, but let’s assume that. So, what’s the plan now? How do we find out how far his influence stretches? Unless we capture that Crow guy."

"I’ve thought about that part too... To be honest, why don’t we just ask him?"

"...Ask who?"

"There are plenty of people to ask. We could capture high-ranking officials in Central Park and ask them directly. Or, we could circulate a questionnaire."

"Hmm."

Everyone looked around with expressions that said, "Is this really a good idea?" but quickly wiped those expressions off their faces.

It was just an extreme measure at the moment, and at this point, even if they asked directly, it wouldn’t be a problem. It was highly likely that no one would refuse either.

So, what should they ask? But deciding that wasn’t up to the Dagger Team—though, that didn’t mean they weren’t giving advice, so everyone in the room began brainstorming.

How long had it been? A question was finally formed.

"...I’m not sure if this is enough of a question."

"It’s actually probably the best question."

The simple question: "Have you ever had contact with Alejandro Webb before the Omega Virus outbreak, or do you know anyone who has?"

Ironically, this automatically led to the conclusion that Alejandro Webb wasn’t involved with politics. The reason was simple. If he were, there would have been at least some living members of Congress still around.

But in the explosion at the Capitol building, the only survivor was Democratic Senator Kerry Hinton, who was in a coma and could wake up at any time.

Perhaps Alejandro Webb had seen these people as obstacles rather than collaborators...

...Wait a minute.

"...So, did Minister Webb attack the president and turn the Capitol to ashes at the start of the crisis?"

"Well... Right now, that seems like the most likely possibility. Even though it was the early stages of the pandemic, there’s no way an ‘outsider’ could pull that off in the most heavily guarded place in the world. Unless they were an insider."

"That’s one more charge against him."

"Not surprising."

More words followed.

"We might end up going to Washington D.C. soon."

"Who’s there?"

"Secretary of Defense Janet."

"...Wait, was she there?"

The Secretary of Defense.

Based on the discussion just now, one might say, "Is there any need for the Dagger Team to go and ask the Secretary of Defense about Alejandro Webb?" But... our reasons for going could very well be different.

It wasn’t something I could say with certainty, but to summarize, here’s the gist:

"We might be going to the capital this winter. It seems like we’ll still smell gunpowder there. I wonder if they have a washing machine."

"Yeah, I guess they’ll have one... maybe."

If we go there, will we have another life-or-death battle with some weird people? I really hate that idea.

But, enough of the gloomy talk. It’s already the first snow, and it’s hardly a pleasant thought. Plus, others seemed to be sharing that same feeling. There was another reason for that too.

Fortunately, it was a much more pleasant reason.

Olivia chuckled softly and added.

"Anyway, we missed Thanksgiving, and Halloween was spent running around the Northeast. We have to make sure we celebrate Christmas, right?"

"...If we’re not able to be in the base on Christmas day, that’s going to be quite a sight. But if that happens, I’ll just blame it on you, okay?"

"Hey, why is that my fault? Hey, hey!"

Of course, the person who first mentioned it became the target of jokes.

Seeing that noisy situation, and the way Lafland kept his mouth shut to avoid getting caught in the crossfire, I began to feel that maybe, just maybe, I could look forward to this Christmas after all.

Let’s just hope nothing happens at the end of the year.

"...Looks like we’ll finally get a real break."

"These days, it’s been nothing but real missions. Besides, apart from some special training, there’s nothing much else to do... but, still, I’ll be out and about a bit, so don’t just laze around."

"Eh, why not?"

"Because I’ll be gathering supplies to prepare for Christmas. You want to come along? It might be fun."

"Yes!"

And the next day, the Dagger Team finally got to enjoy a real break.

"...Wait. Why are there so many fancy wines here?"

"All sorts of furniture and TVs... Wait. Looking at it now, these are all things used in hotels."

"These are things brought from hotels just tens of meters away from Central Park. From Plaza Hotel, Park Hyatt, and other hotels lined up along Central Park, all grabbed before they could go bad."

"Still, looking at the wine alone, there must be thousands of bottles..."

The warehouse in Central Park was large, but it was set to grow even bigger.

People who had seen the warehouses being set up in HQ yesterday, today, and tomorrow were all saying the same thing—it was happening right before their eyes.

It had been almost a year since I last saw the warehouse, and it had grown enormous. I’d just seen it being built, and now it had expanded to almost the size of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

There was only one reason why there were so many wines in this giant warehouse that would take a day to walk through.

"All these wines were brought in by civilians. When they brought stuff from the hotels, they grabbed things from places like wine bars too. Since they’d spoil if left alone, they built this warehouse to store them."

"So, you hid everything here?"

"Not everything, about 70%... I think? The civilians took what they needed when they wanted, so there’s still this much left. I’m not sure how much will go out during Christmas."

"...Did you say you came early this year? You sure know all the little details."

"I used to work here doing manual labor before becoming an Icarus operator. I carried the crates."

TMI, maybe?

Anyway, a lot of what was here had my hands on it. Like the cement bags used to solidify the ground... I must've carried around 400 of those... and that was just in a single day.

The Dagger team was going through the warehouse, trying to figure out what to take so they could at least have a decent Christmas.

In a way, you could say they were having a party with other people's stuff, but... whatever. After everything we’ve been through, we deserve this.

With that feeling in mind, we figured out what to drink. I’ve never really drank much, but the idea of whiskey had me curious. I wondered what it would taste like.

I wasn’t the only one thinking that. Other people seemed to be thinking the same thing. Maybe the cups for wine are different? Does anyone know how to drink it properly?

At that moment, I looked at Laurentina.

"Why are you staring at me like that, kid?"

"I thought you might know about wine..."

"Not entirely wrong, but I think everyone knows about it. I’ve been to enough social gatherings to try a lot of different things."

If you are reading this translation anywhere other than Novelight.net or SilkRoadTL, it has been stolen.

"Is there anyone who doesn’t know about it? You don’t know much about it, do you?"

"Eh... I don’t know!"

"Haha, sure."

Well, apparently Laurentina didn’t know either, so I guess I’ll have to figure it out myself.

There’s so many kinds of alcohol here—brandy, liqueurs, cognac, champagne... dozens of varieties. It’s only natural I’d wonder which one would be the best to drink first.

Meanwhile, others were talking about something else.

"I just thought of something—don’t you think HQ might ask us to dress up as Santa or Rudolph for Christmas?"

"What kind of crazy talk is that?"

"Sure, there won’t be a Christmas tree due to blackout regulations, but when civilians come out to get their rations in the morning, we could dress up and hand out stuff. I think it’s pretty likely."

"So, you’re saying you’ll be sitting on a perch like an owl all day long?"

"I’m just saying, I’m just saying."

Why did the conversation suddenly shift to this odd topic?

But since it was Olivia who threw the topic out with such zeal, the conversation about food and drinks for Christmas was quickly pushed aside in favor of Christmas costumes.

"Is there anyone who could play Rudolph?"

"Logan?"

"Shut up."

"There are two people with white hair, so anyone could play Santa, right?"

"Then, I’ll do it. The little bear should be the one carrying soda and playing the polar bear, not Santa—Ugh, why are you hitting me!?"

"Then stop talking nonsense, you little brat. Come here!"

Boom!

With the sound of punches landing, the two metamorphs who had transcended human limits vanished behind the warehouse. Only Olivia and I were left in the cold warehouse.

For a moment, silence filled the air. Then, words came.

"Now that I think about it, we didn’t bring Lafland. If we’re not going out for Christmas, he’ll be at the party too. If he wants something, we’ll # Nоvеlight # let him choose, right?"

"Yeah. I’ll go get him."

Nothing happened.

Seeing the chaos from the start, it looked like today would be a very long day.