"To think I'd be coming back here..."
"Didn’t you say the youngest didn’t have good memories of Brooklyn? Well, it’s time to add some better ones now. Let’s send those guys who didn’t even bring passports back home."
"...That might turn into a bad memory as well."
December, Early Days, Brooklyn. -1°C.
Under the dull sky, while consecutive explosions rang out, a tilt-jet lifted off from Central Park and crossed the New York Harbor in an instant, turning toward the lower part of Brooklyn and heading for the Gateway Center, a shopping mall complex.
The Icarus Gear overlaid the view of the scene below. In an instant, the entire wall of the transport plane became transparent. Thousands of large and small apartment complexes below whizzed by, tightly packed on the ground like circuits on a computer component.
About a year ago, roughly 10 to 11 months ago, I had opened my eyes somewhere down there. I thought I was recalling the terrible past, but that didn't last long.
It was partly thanks to the gear, but also because of the large sniper rifle I was holding in my gloved hands.
"By the way, did the youngest come to Manhattan from that port?"
"Yeah. It wasn’t a very good memory, but... looking back now, maybe it wasn’t as bad as it is now. These days, it’s just fire everywhere."
"Well, what can you do? If you’ve been selected as a firefighter, you have to be a firefighter. Are the charges done?"
"Almost done."
"Good. Don’t touch the charging port."
Though it was a story I had heard several times, I couldn’t help but feel drawn to it every time it came up.
The reason they kept saying it was simple. Partly because the railgun charged through microwaves, the charging part was literally glowing yellow. It was hot, and that was a warning in itself.
Thanks to the shield, I wouldn’t get burned by touching the hot parts, but it was still dangerous. One of the first warnings you learn as a child is not to touch hot things, right?
... I miss my mom.
"...Entering Fort Hamilton airspace. Was that where the youngest saved that wolf with fur flying everywhere? I can't believe that was almost half a year ago."
"Yeah, when will they ever rebuild that place, I wonder?"
"Not for a while, I’d guess."
Fort Hamilton.
Looking down below... ruins. The base, one of the New York National Guard headquarters, had been utterly shattered. Not just destroyed, but smashed into pieces. That alone told you what kind of event had occurred.
The Cypher cluster missile. The very name that fell on this base months ago, turning the traitor Ryker and the prisoners chasing Lapland, who had defected to join Central Park, into minced meat.
Of course, it wasn’t just the people that were smashed; the base had also been reduced to rubble. The buildings there were most likely no longer usable. It would be better to start completely from scratch.
...Not just that place, but the entire U.S., or the world as a whole, was in the same situation.
In the meantime, the plane continued low-level flight, approaching the rooftop of the Hyatt Hotel about 3 km northwest of JFK Airport.
At the nearby racetrack, instead of horses, all kinds of conventional weaponry were lined up, such as self-propelled artillery, Striker APCs, infantry fighting vehicles, and so on. From the rooftop, I could see JFK Airport in the distance.
And hovering above it, enemy attack helicopters continued to pass.
"Looks like flies buzzing around."
"Let me do a distance measurement... it seems to range from 5 to 9 km. What speed should we aim for, in kilometers per second?"
"Set both at 8. Set up two Titans, and once one is used up, change the stock. You identify the target and let me know, and I’ll take the shot. Got the idea?"
"Yes."
"Then let’s begin. Those bastards are going to be in for a surprise."
Bzziing!
Following Olivia’s command, after fiddling with the panel behind the stock, a hologram rotated, and the number 8 appeared, quickly fading into the panel. With this, the Titan was set to fire tungsten carbide rounds at a speed of 8 km per second.
Of course, after firing three rounds, we would need a 3-minute recharge, but with two railguns, that meant six shots. Considering Olivia's shooting skills, we could down at least five helicopters.
That was more than enough to wipe out an entire squadron.
The SOFLAM, a laser designation system similar to a monocular telescope, was mounted on a tripod. It had far superior detection capability compared to what was normally available and was aimed at the skies over JFK Airport.
Combining it with the information from the nearby reconnaissance aircraft, it was transmitted to the interface.
Olivia, fiddling with the electronic scope, added:
"They’re not just shooting missiles from afar like cowards; if they’ve shown themselves, they should accept the consequences."
"Identifying Ka-52M and Mi-28 helicopters. A total of seven. Some seem to be just firing missiles from the outskirts of the airport, but others are hovering, firing chain guns and rockets."
"Got it. I’ve received the data... You see the one launching rockets at the runway?"
"Yes."
"Let’s take him first."
The sight-sharing with Olivia begins.
The electronic scope zoomed in with tremendous force, identifying an enemy attack helicopter over 8 km away, marking the expected trajectory of the bullets and the predicted shooting position at the same time.
The Titan had undergone several modifications and repairs. It now had a new heat-resistant barrel and an improved battery, which made it larger and more functional than before.
If you are reading this translation anywhere other than Novelight.net or SilkRoadTL, it has been stolen.
In any case, with this, it was more than enough to send the helicopter hovering over the airport and destroying the runway to its final lesson.
That lesson was death.
With the Icarus Gear-triggered mechanism, operators no longer even had to pull the trigger. The development department had eliminated even the slightest tremor caused by pulling the trigger.
Operators could shoot at the exact moment they wanted, and this was no different.
Boom!
In that instant, the helicopter, which had been destroying the runway from almost 8 km away, suddenly jerked as if it were lying. The massive recoil, which even a mutant wearing Icarus Gear couldn’t easily withstand, hit my shoulder. The bolts securing it to the concrete ground even momentarily loosened.
However, the power of the bullet, in proportion to the recoil, was magnificently transferred to the target.
Despite the heat-resistant material of the barrel, it still couldn’t withstand the frictional heat at 8 km per second, and the tungsten bullet pierced the center of a Ka-52M helicopter.
The aircraft was literally cut in half and exploded.
"...Wow."
"One down. Next?"
"Keep them coming. There’s a Mi-28 hovering near the FedEx warehouse."
"Got it. On it."
Kiing!
Another shot. As the blue plasma shimmered like an echo in the air, in a flash, the tungsten bullet crossed the sky and struck near the tail rotor of the helicopter.
That alone was enough to cause critical damage, and within seconds, the helicopter spun around and crashed to the ground, exploding.
Meanwhile, Olivia, following the information about the enemy aircraft, fired the third round, but unfortunately, the final shot missed. There was a strong crosswind.
The next task was simple.
"Swap out the battery. Keep going."
"Got it."
The stock opened, and the previously blue battery was replaced with a black one. With a click, the new battery locked in, and once again, a bluish flash glimmered above the railgun Olivia was using.
The enemy helicopters, now aware of the situation, began to turn, but it was already too late.
Just before firing, Olivia added:
"You know, you’ll have to do this too, youngest."
"...Of course."
"Then let’s keep going."
For the allied forces, today was going to be nothing short of a disaster.
That day, Olivia and I wiped out about nine enemy helicopters.
JFK International Airport took significant damage, but the allied forces’ attack was crushed.
"Good to see you. Is this our first meeting?"
"Ah, so the distinguished ones came to visit. So, should I take it that the U.S. is in such a bad situation that it’s using even the lunatic sanitation workers?"
"Sadly, it’s never been different. And now... I’ve come to talk about something a bit different. We’ve gotten some interesting results about Jordan Amherst’s current whereabouts and the story behind it."
"...I suppose it’s worth listening to. Have a seat."
Meanwhile, on Randall's Island Park in Northern Manhattan.
The Dagger Team was face-to-face with Joseph Ferro, the leader of the Cleaners.
Jordan Amherst.
The creator of the Omega Virus, and a figure who surpassed even Hitler, becoming the most unapproachable evil in terms of crimes against humanity.
The horrors he carried out in just one year, the terrible deeds he accomplished, would require far more paper and pens than could be imagined to list.
One of those acts, however, was the reason for the creation of the Cleaners. It also marked him as the most dangerous individual who had to be eradicated from this world.
Naturally, the mention of this person made the Cleaners' eyes shift.
Seeing that, the Dagger Team didn’t hesitate to make their move.
"To be precise, Jordan Amherst’s status is currently unknown. That doesn’t mean there’s a lack of information, but rather, it means we cannot define whether he’s alive or dead right now."
"...Tell me more."
"It’s simple. Whoever it is, someone will covet Jordan Amherst’s knowledge. But he was a mad terrorist from the start, and anyone keeping him alive and using him would face tremendous risks. So what do we do?"
"..."
"Think of the most inhumane solution you can imagine. The one you would least expect."
"...No way."
Of course, the phrase "No way" was unnecessary. Everyone in that room already imagined the same conclusion.
Anyone who had survived the apocalyptic pandemic and witnessed the virus’s devastation would agree that Jordan Amherst, the person responsible for all this, could never meet a peaceful death.
When it did happen, people didn’t feel satisfaction but bewilderment.
It didn’t take long for the Dagger Team to confirm this fact.
"It’s difficult to say exactly how he met his end, but we can be certain that he’s very likely lost his humanity by now. His intelligence is probably gone."
This content is taken from freёwebnovel.com.
"...Does that mean he met a similar fate to the gang members stationed in the Bronx?"
"Most likely."
Was that the fitting end for him?
One thing was clear: it was not the ending the Cleaners had hoped for, nor the one they wanted. He had to face the most horrific end and truly meet his death.
Though it was better that he died, that was the end of it.
The Dagger Team continued.
"Originally, he should have died in Boston, and it seems he wanted that, but it didn’t happen. It seems it was a certainty that he was kidnapped instead."
"Who did this?"
"Black Eagle. You probably haven’t heard that name before. We only recently found out about them. They were first discovered in the BSL4 facility in Boston we visited recently. We had quite a bit of trouble restoring the data."
"Just hearing the name sounds suspicious."
"Their affiliation is suspicious too. Based on the information so far, they are likely a large PMC working as Alejandro Webb’s private army under the former Department of Homeland Security head. And..."
With a flick of the hand, new data appeared. The complex biological data filled the Cleaners’ vision, but they instantly recognized what it was.
Why was such data appearing now, after the virus had almost been eradicated? There was no need to explain further.
Some people, even after causing the world’s destruction with the virus, still tried to do something with it.
"Are they really trying to repeat the same mistake?"
"It’s a common occurrence. And since they are lacking in absolute strength, they’re probably trying to compensate for that. The important thing is that they’re either attempting to do this now or will try to soon."
The screen shrank, and soon, it displayed a map of New Jersey.
The four letters NJMS appeared. The Cleaners quickly identified it as the New Jersey Medical School, only about 20 km from Manhattan’s center, with a level 3 biohazard research lab.
And it also turned out that, before the outbreak of the Omega Virus, illegal expansions were made, including the addition of autoclaves, HEPA filters, sterilization facilities, and unexplained underground spaces.
The Dagger Team displayed the location of the now power-deprived research facility.
Perhaps, somewhere in the world, someone alive still needed "that facility."
"By now, Eagle Team should have cleared all those flies around JFK Airport."
"..."
"But meanwhile, some unknown idiots have set foot on the U.S. without even passports, and the connection to Newark Liberty International Airport, only 5 km south of the biohazard research facility, has been cut."
"What’s the point you’re making?"
"Let me make room for you. You can do your job as a sanitation worker."
A brief silence.
But the decision didn’t take long.
"To save the city, we’ll have to burn away all the diseases spreading on the streets. And... right now is when filth and disease are most rampant."
"..."
"I'm starting Dragon now. I’ll leave in 5 minutes. About 1,000 people should be enough?"
"That’s more than enough."
"Good. Let’s start."
Siren!
It didn’t take long for the entire Randall’s Island and all the Cleaners stationed there to wake up.
The time of fire and smoke had arrived.