I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun-Chapter 733: Insurgency (4)

"Now recruiting workers! A major renovation is needed at Chambers Station! As soon as 50 applicants gather, we’ll depart immediately!"

"We’re recruiting the standing forces for Central Park defense! I can assure you that no one will go hungry no matter what happens!"

"We’re recruiting people to clear vehicles on Manhattan's roads! We’ll depart within 30 minutes!"

"We need ten people to assist in the transportation of separately delivered ammunition. We’ll prioritize those already part of the standing forces. The ammunition needs to be moved to the shooting range and the arsenal."

Central Park HQ, the heart of America’s restoration effort.

Once a city more glamorous than anywhere else in the world, it was now enveloped in a terrifying silence, but countless people, unable to forget its past glory, continued to tirelessly work towards the world’s restoration.

Even after Dagger Team’s return, more than ten days had passed, and Central Park remained as lively yet silent as ever. At first glance, it seemed like just another routine scene, and ordinarily, that would have been fine.

But for the cynical people—those who knew what was bubbling beneath the surface—this all seemed strangely off.

And they weren't wrong.

Small signals began to fill Central Park, signals that could only be detected by those who knew something was going on.

"We are recruiting cleaning workers for Grand Central Terminal! We need about 20 people! Separate positions for materials management and security personnel are also available!"

"Grand Central Terminal? Isn’t that where there were piles of bodies? I wonder if anyone would actually go to that place."

"Looking for both materials managers and security staff tells us the situation’s a mess. There must be so few people available."

"What? Grand Central Terminal? I’ll volunteer!"

"What did you say?"

It wasn’t the most sophisticated, but it wasn’t hard to mislead people.

Surprisingly, there were people in Central Park who actually fell for such traps.

"Do a background check. Oh... they’re from the India district. Conditions probably aren’t great, but they seem okay. They’ll be cleaning up bodies and recovering firearms."

"No problem."

"Good. Write down the materials managers and security personnel separately and let me know. I’ll confirm after checking their backgrounds."

"Understood. When should we be ready?"

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"Leave in 30 minutes. Remember that."

Some people shook their heads, others looked surprised.

As mentioned earlier, the reason they were shocked or shaking their heads was simple. The area near where Dagger Team had swept through not long ago was literally filled with corpses, and cleaning it up was no simple task.

Nevertheless, some of the Islamic refugees volunteered without hesitation. Most of the others looked shocked at this and some didn’t say anything, but their faces showed that they were impressed.

While a representative of the refugees quickly wrote down the names of those suitable for the materials and security roles, others muttered under their breath.

"I didn’t know they had it in them. I wonder if they want something in return?"

"Who knows? Maybe they’re choosing this because they’re desperate for supplies."

"If that’s the case, then... no, never mind. Let’s not worry about it. It’s their business."

Regardless of anything else, cleaning up the bodies was one of the more unpleasant tasks, and there were plenty of other jobs to do, many of which didn’t require such a gruesome job.

Though it was hard to understand, the others quietly disappeared.

Even though Central Park was working hard to gather supplies, feeding and supporting thousands of people was already a close call, and civilians had to do other tasks to survive.

But despite that, the guide, who had been watching the scene with a stern face, seemed to make a note of the people being sent to Grand Central Terminal, as if he was trying to remember each one. Once everyone was gone, he added:

"...Yes, we’ve finally bitten the bait. I’ll send the list of IDs once all of the Grand Central Terminal workers are confirmed."

"Good. It’s been ten days. It’s time to bring in the elected representative from the India district."

After a while, the guide gave a quick look to his partner, indicating that he had something to do. He excused himself and, with a hint of going to the bathroom, slipped out, heading in the opposite direction.

Inside Central Park, buses and trucks carrying people drove over freshly laid asphalt, leaving the completed gates and heading toward the city center.

The guide passed through this scene and made his way to a secluded break room. After locking the door, he activated the device he had received earlier and projected a hologram into the air.

How much time passed? A new person entered.

"...Greetings. I am Muhammad Neru, the elected representative of the India district. I see you seem to have something to say, though I’m afraid I can’t get a clear sense of what you want. What should I do?"

"Before we get to the main point, there’s a document we need to go over. Let’s read it through carefully before starting the discussion."

"Well, if you insist..."

A long silence followed.

Every time Representative Neru’s fingers moved, the hologram shifted, and the sound of paper turning echoed. In reality, it wasn’t paper, but just the familiar sound being replayed in real-time.

After about five minutes, he spoke again.

"...What... is this? You want me to believe this?"

"Whether you believe it or not, it doesn’t matter. This is happening right now, and it’s deeply connected to you. I’m sure you understand the kind of actions that will be required, don’t you?"

"First... may I take a look at the individuals marked as threats?"

"Please."

Another sound of paper turning echoed.

But after a while, when he turned the paper and checked the names again, Muhammad Neru’s expression seemed lighter than before.

Whether it was because he had come up with an excuse or something else, no one could tell, but it was clear he was beginning to act more favorably.

He spoke again.

"So, what should we do first? I’ll cooperate as much as I can."

"I’m not asking for much. But if you don’t cooperate properly, it’s a foregone conclusion that trouble will spread throughout the community. Keep that in mind."

"I understand."

"Then, there’s no need for further discussion. I’ll send the list once it’s confirmed. Prepare for the fallout. Be careful not to let the roots get uprooted."

"These people will go to Al Janna, so the Sunni friends will be pleased. Shall I prepare to clean up their belongings?"

"Interesting. Alright then."

A brief silence followed.

The guide spoke once more.

"This is what’s happening. I would appreciate it if you could focus on your duties from now on."

"...I understand."

"The situation is far from ideal, but at least I’m less worried now. I’ll contact you again soon."

After some time, the hologram projector clicked off with a slight noise.

The guide put it back in his pocket, unlocked the door, and re-entered as if nothing had happened. The bus left, and the Islamic refugees vanished without a trace.

The world seemed to continue as normal, but it wasn’t.

Manhattan was still silent.

"...Dagger Team, we’re currently searching the half-burned Chinatown... Jackpot."

"Jackpot... What do you mean?"

"Looks like we’ve found something... a little strange."

Meanwhile, Dagger Team quietly rummaged through the rubble of the burnt building and found something.

When the box opened, there were Chinese characters and a strange iron rod. A portable surface-to-air missile.

The moment it appeared before them, it didn’t take long before everyone was speechless.

To summarize:

"We followed the most recent footprints from our scans and arrived at this point. While searching, we found this, right?"

"The body cams recorded everything. There’s no other way to interpret this. But I still can’t figure out how this situation came about."

"Let’s discuss, though. We need to figure out why this is buried here."

Lower Manhattan, Chinatown.

Everything about the situation was incomprehensible, and Dagger Team’s minds were overwhelmed.

How did Dagger Team find a portable surface-to-air missile, commonly known as a MANPADS, in Chinatown? Even the discoverers themselves didn’t understand the situation, but they had to figure it out.

"We can’t be sure, but considering the damage to the box, someone might have brought it here after the Lower Manhattan fire. It seems like it could have been with the Russian-Chinese detachment..."

"Putting something this important in plain sight makes no sense. Or maybe they just couldn’t dispose of it?"

"Probably. After all, it got bombed into ash, so how could they have properly handled it? It’s probably just a lucky survivor from the white phosphorus bombing."

Logan’s point was crucial.

"Well, that’s not the important part. Now we need to think about how we’re going to handle this. Normally, we’d recover it, but we don’t know whose hands it could end up in if left alone. But given the timing, Dagger Team has another choice."

"What if we... intentionally hand it off to someone else?"

"Well, recovering it is fine, but letting someone else play with it wouldn’t be too bad. Since it’s Chinese-made, handing it to someone with other plans might... didn’t the Islamic and Chinese refugees have some trouble recently?"

"Controlled chaos in a manageable range. That works too."

"Let’s first check if there’s more than one of these. To do that, we’ll have to stick around here for a while."

As expected, things didn’t take as long as expected. It was a big discovery, but the work wasn’t over. Finding one meant there might be two, or three, or more. That meant more work.

"Well, as I said earlier... how can we naturally and controllably hand this over to anti-government refugees?"

"...You were thinking that too?"

"Of course. With a little finesse, we could... clean up a little more neatly. There’s no better way to give them an unavoidable reason."

"Ha. Only someone with black ops experience would think of that. I like it."

It was clear what this meant.

They were planning to stage a setup. But, technically, it wasn’t even a setup. The connection wasn’t entirely clear, but it didn’t matter. The situation was already unfolding like this.

People who had always seemed suspicious were now fighting to

position themselves near Grand Central Terminal, and the few who knew this was a carefully laid trap were the only ones aware.

So Dagger Team came to one conclusion.

Lauren Tina spoke.

"...That MANPADS could be useful for taking out some useless drones, don’t you think?"

"Taking out drones?"

"Yeah. Blow up a drone, then, as I said, we could plant it with the anti-government refugees who are plotting something and stir up a riot. It would create the perfect justification."

"...Drones, huh. I was only thinking of catching them when they ended up in their hands."

"We’ll need to check if we have any unmanned drones we can use for this..."

Naturally, there was no distinction between right or wrong for Dagger Team.

At this point, Dagger Team and Central Park were seamlessly sharing data, and they were aware of most of the information in real-time without any time lag.

In other words, as soon as Dagger Team discovered the surface-to-air missile and discussed what to do with it, the operations officers monitoring it in real-time were also on top of it.

How long did it take? A reply came from the Central Park TOC, located several kilometers away.

"This seems like a highly probable outcome. The only issue is if there’s only one missile, it might be a bit difficult. Based on the analysis, it looks more like an advanced version of the Chinese FN-6, not a Stinger..."

"Yeah, we’re planning a more detailed search soon. I’m hoping there might be more missiles. We’ll do our best to find them, so we’ll manage somehow."

"Don’t worry about the handoff. Recently, Agent Ilich Jensen successfully infiltrated the Chinese community. He’s been in contact with some people and suggested recovering the weapons left behind by the detachment still in Lower Manhattan."

"...That guy’s pretty smart. Let him know I’ll buy him lunch next time we meet."

"He’d probably prefer drinks over food."

At the same time, there was a brief silence followed by laughter.

The communication ended, and Dagger Team exhaled before adding:

"...Let’s get to work. Let’s find one or two more."

Reasoning was sharp, but the taste was bitter. Life in a world where ethics and morals were luxuries was usually like this.

The summer was coming to an end, and the final phase of their mission was near.