"Is it the Cleaner that's still engaged outside? Quite impressive in many ways. I didn’t think the phrase 'seeking only death' was a literal truth."
"He calls his own death martyrdom. I'm not sure if he's joking or serious, but... it's clear that they wanted that. They're troublesome people in many ways."
"Before those guys really become martyrs, let’s deal with them and get out. The news you brought while we were gone is no small matter, so I don’t know if we’ll finish it quickly, but..."
After passing breakfast and reaching lunchtime, an unrelenting darkness covered America, with not a single trace of light.
The cold winds of early December and the gloomy weather. Just a few months ago, it had been hot enough to occasionally exceed 30°C, and everyone only packed short-sleeve shirts and shorts, but in just 3–4 months, summer had come to an abrupt end.
Outside the debriefing room, which wasn’t too old and still smelled of concrete and new construction, the sharp, dry sound of winter winds echoed.
Amidst all of this, the Dagger Team, particularly the strike team, had just scattered the information they’d collected just hours before into the air.
There were still many battlefields that required Dagger Team’s involvement, but there was an overwhelming mountain of information they needed to verify, even if they had to momentarily neglect other requests.
"Crow. Currently the Director of Artemis' Technology Department, suspected to be a former PMC... not much to go on with just this. Have we finished the voice analysis?"
"It’s almost done, but we probably won’t be able to trace him from just this. Even if we find something, catching him will be an entirely different issue."
"That’s true, but better than nothing... We’ve passed the data to separate intelligence units like the ISA and NSA, so let’s wait a bit, maybe something will come up."
"Not sure..."
At this point, the most frustrating element for the Dagger Team was the sudden appearance of a figure named Crow, who quickly became the most troublesome one.
The table was filled with sheets of paper where what Crow had spoken, the monologue he had delivered, was transcribed and pasted, and the Dagger Team read them, trying to pick up the underlying meaning.
"There are a lot of smooth talkers out there, and the smart ones usually get picked up by intelligence agencies, but in this situation, being able to talk like that means they’ve got quite a bit of field experience."
"Among the survivors, who hasn’t done the same? Probably the combatants from the Black Eagle group have the same kind of experience."
"Black Eagle, Black Eagle... has anyone heard of them? First time I’m hearing about them."
"Not sure. If the world was normal, I could just call up the retired guys and ask, but now, that’s not possible either."
Muttering like that, Logan tossed aside the script in his hand and leaned back in his special chair, staring at the whiteboard.
There were various words, photos of people, and additional information attached to it, and the data was interconnected like a web. It almost seemed like an old-school method of intelligence gathering, something out of a special forces movie.
Alejandro Webb, former Secretary of Homeland Security, the Black Eagle, a private military company under his command, and Crow, who had just hijacked communications and arbitrarily ended the situation hours ago.
The information was overflowing, nearly ready to burst.
"From what I can tell, they’re heavily involved with defense contractors like Artemis, and they’ve probably ended up with this ridiculous conclusion of wanting to set up a new government while causing chaos amongst themselves. But where do we even start?"
"Crow mentioned 'stepping over' Artemis when explaining them. We might have to go back to Syracuse. This time, we might actually have to raid their headquarters."
"Dammit. When are we going to go?"
"Right now, the cleanup around New York is more urgent. We can go there later. Besides, the road up is blocked off anyway."
"Blocked off?"
"There are coalition forces swarming the small towns between Albany and New York."
Obviously, nothing was going according to plan for the Dagger Team, which was one of their biggest problems at the moment.
Sure, they could’ve said, "When has war ever gone the way we wanted?" but now, it was worse. The fact that New York City had practically turned into an island on the map was the main issue.
With large forces landing in New Jersey, the routes to the southwest, like Philadelphia, Baltimore, and Washington D.C., had been blocked, as had the route to Albany, the capital of New York State, and even towards New Haven.
New York had been cut off from reinforcements beyond what it already had, which meant the Dagger Team was stuck in the city.
Whether this was an advantage or disadvantage for the coalition forces was yet to be seen.
If you are reading this translation anywhere other than Novelight.net or SilkRoadTL, it has been stolen.
While others were spreading out a map of New York City, pondering where to strike next based on new data that had come in, I found a name on the map that looked oddly familiar.
"Olivia, is this West Point on the map the same West Point I’m thinking of?"
"West Point? Is that where the U.S. Military Academy is?"
"I’m not sure about that, but didn’t we hear something about it back when they were talking about a 30-day officer training program or something?"
"Did we? I can’t remember clearly..."
Olivia, who had been lounging in her chair, lazily got up and started examining the map.
A brief silence. She traced her thin fingers over the map like a viper, then muttered as if she had remembered something, or thought of something.
"...Now that I think about it, what’s the situation here?"
"The communication network here... well, I’m not sure. If we ask HQ, they might have some info, but since this is a key defensive position, it’s better to ask first. Let’s call the 'Wolf' junior over."
"Alright, I’ll call him."
At that moment, Logan snapped his fingers.
Nothing particularly unusual happened, but the people in the room knew exactly what that meant.
After returning from Boston, Lapland had officially received his Icarus Gear, and now, whenever an opportunity arose, there was no need to make individual calls anymore — a mere snap of the fingers was enough to summon someone.
Even if he pretended not to care, Lapland subtly fiddling with his watch whenever the team called him was an unmistakable sign of his vanity. Of course, it was cute, and they let it slide... but if he heard it, he’d probably be angry.
How much time had passed?
Without hiding it, Lapland approached with an expression that seemed forced, though his tail was clearly wagging.
"What is it this time? What do you need me for?"
"Come sit down. I need to ask you something about the Alpha Line—the direct defense line connecting Manhattan and Albany."
"I was supposed to bring the Wolf Junior with me. How’s his shooting practice been going?"
"He hasn’t been home for a few days, what do you think he’s been up to? Ah, let go. Do you really see me as a woman!"
As expected, Olivia’s presence lightened the mood the moment she entered. Even though the air purifier’s color didn’t change from green to yellow, it almost felt like it might soon.
Lapland, who had been getting a lot of attention lately, sat down with a sigh, trying to look tough while struggling with the map. The reason for his difficulty was clear: everyone kept patting him on the back.
Slowly getting used to handling the holograms, Lapland opened the Icarus Gear’s screen and clicked on West Point. A popup appeared beneath it.
Communication logs related to the location.
Material and troop support plans.
Scheduled operations and current status.
Countless pieces of data appeared on Lapland’s Icarus Gear, and soon the Dagger Team also received all that data.
How long had passed?
"...The Stewart Airport lost its control? When did this information come in?"
"One hour ago. The 56th Brigade of the New York National Guard, stationed 27 kilometers southeast of Stewart Airport, is responding, and the 10th Mountain Division is expected to join soon."
"Chaos everywhere. Maybe I shouldn’t have called you here, but you’re probably busy. Sorry to bring you in."
"It’s alright. I had something to pass along to the Dagger Team anyway, and it was easy to get approval. It’s nothing major, just that we’ll need to be on standby as a mobile strike team day and night."
"As expected. I figured that kind of request would come eventually."
Of course, no one was surprised. It was expected.
Olivia sighed, glancing at the Wolf Junior and muttering, "I need to raise him into someone who pulls his weight..." But, well, there was no help for it yet. Maybe one day, though.
In the meantime, the conversation continued.
"Unless there’s a separate notice, you should wait in the debriefing room. If you need anything, tell the debriefing room manager. They’ll provide ammo, cleaning tools, food — whatever you need."
"Thanks. See you later."
"Don’t go and die somewhere."
Clink.
With a wistful look, Lapland left the room, and we settled into our seats. It looked like we’d be sleeping here more often than not from now on, so we needed to make sure we were prepared.
A lot of thoughts crossed my mind, but they all led to one conclusion. We just hoped everyone would survive until the end of the war.
Follow curr𝒆nt nov𝒆ls on fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com.
The 56th Brigade and the Mountain Division had long since been defeated, and it was four hours ago that HQ had confirmed that West Point had been taken by enemy airborne forces.
The rest of the operation proceeds in an action-packed sequence, revealing key moments involving high-tech drones, combat strategies, and the increasingly intense conflict.
"According to the unmanned reconnaissance, it’s estimated that most of West Point has been occupied. Last reports suggest there were about 200 personnel within the academy..."
"This is getting ridiculous. So, what are we supposed to do about it? Are we supposed to take down all of West Point?"
"You might think it’s irresponsible, but unfortunately, yes."
"Then I’ll need enough support to crush the entire airborne division. Is that doable?"
"Of course."
"Well, then we’ll do our best. If things go south, we’ll jump into the Hudson River and escape to the Bronx, so remember that."
At 2:40 AM, the current temperature was -2°C. It wasn’t too cold despite the breath coming out visibly, thanks to the Icarus Gear’s heating function, which made it feel much warmer than January.
I absentmindedly fiddled with the cold barrel of my gun. But it didn’t take long before the rear ramp door of Photon 1 opened.
I wasn’t feeling regret or anxiety. Instead, I was only questioning whether I could perform well.
The distance from Central Park to the Military Academy was 65km.
It would take about 20 minutes to reach the operation area, and since it was an emergency operation, there would be no pre-briefing. I had to memorize and input all the details into my body before we arrived.
Everyone except me acted like it was completely natural, but trying to follow along was exhausting, especially when I felt like I was out of my depth.
As soon as we boarded the aircraft, the briefing began.
"The operation is simple. Dagger Team will land 4km south of the target, then split into strike and reconnaissance teams to head to the objective. We’ll remove any surface-to-air missiles blocking close air support, and the recon team will tear everything apart once the aerial support arrives. Got it?"
"I get it. But this time, I’m going to have the junior practice the airstrike coordination procedures he’s been training for, so keep that in mind."
"...It can’t be helped. Do your best, junior."
"You’ll be with Olivia, so if anything goes wrong, you can talk to her."
"...Sister?"
Why do they always give me that strange look when I call her 'sister'?
As the transport aircraft began to take off, the small shakes, pressure, and inertia were nothing to worry about, and we were already accelerating to about 400 km/h. The briefing continued as we sped through the sky.
Meanwhile, I was checking my weapons. Since I was part of the Eagle Team, it meant getting very familiar with sniper rifles.
Today, we wouldn’t need Titan-class weapons, but I did have a new weapon to carry with me.
"Mk.18 Mjolnir. A powerful piece of gear that fires Lapua rounds semi-automatically. It has a mid-range scope with a dot sight, so we should be able to adapt to any situation."
"When I first brought this for testing during CCT service, they laughed it off, saying no one would ever use it... but here I am, carrying it now."
"Well, it’s perfect for mutants, I suppose. Anyway, we’re nearing our destination. The operation will be all about improvisation, so let’s stay as safe as possible."
The aircraft began to slow down gradually.
As the stealth mode was deactivated and the landing began, the ramp door opened, and within moments, several men rushed out, quickly securing the area and standing guard. The vibrations from several kilometers around confirmed the presence of enemy airborne forces.
Even as I thought that, my body automatically launched the reconnaissance drones into the air, syncing with the Icarus Gear. With this, Dagger Team could pinpoint enemy positions within hundreds of meters.
The surrounding terrain, which had been unfamiliar just moments ago, was now forced into my mind, and above that, the exact movement routes were immediately displayed.
Technology was truly a terrifying thing.
"We’ll minimize travel and engagement times. Let’s neutralize anyone on guard while moving. Is the WASP ready?"
"Assembled and ready for deployment."
"Good. Let’s begin."
With a soft, barely audible whirring sound, a drone the size of a human torso flew into the sky. Its extremely muted propeller noise marked the flight of the Wasp, a large sniper drone that had recently become a very useful tool.
The Eagle Team’s destination was the rooftop of a nearby hotel named The Thayer. The strike team would be sweeping the area to check for any SAM turrets, and if they found any, they would take them down.
--- Whoosh!
The sound of a sniper drone firing a 50-caliber round was shockingly quiet, almost too quiet to believe. But when the hit location and the opposite side exploded like a watermelon, the situation was entirely different.
We moved quickly, taking out enemies we detected in every direction. Luckily, there weren’t many enemies around yet.
However, there were large concentrations of infantry and enemy weapons stationed in sports centers, office buildings, government buildings, and large stadiums just a few hundred meters away.
"Do you think they know we’ve arrived?"
"Does it matter? They’ll know soon enough... and then maybe no one will know what happened next."
"...You mean, we’ll take out everyone who figures it out?"
"Who knows?"
...I really feel like these people are terrifying.
Dagger Team started heading north along West Point Highway. As we drew closer, the sounds around us grew heavier.
Now it was time to split up. The Eagle Team veered right, and the strike team took the left.
Just then, we received communication from HQ.
-[Great job tonight, Dagger Team. Two MQ-20 Avengers, 4 cluster bombs, and 4 small anti-personnel missiles are ready. They’ll be in the operation area within 3 minutes upon call.]
-[I’m still an apprentice, so I can’t control the drones myself. But don’t worry, a more reliable person is on standby.]
-[Let us know once you finish with the SAMs.]
"This guy hasn’t changed at all."
"I actually like that more. Hehe... Ouch!"
"Focus, damn it."
After the playful pinch, we approached the hotel vicinity. Soon, Olivia and I, leading the front, spotted a patrol team of four near the hotel.
While the others were connecting anchors to deploy on the hotel rooftop, I drew my pistol with my left hand and held a dagger in reverse with my right.
How much time passed?
—Thwip!
"Ugh...!"
"What the hell, ack..."
One shot to the head, the dagger to the neck.
As I pulled the trigger with my pistol, I threw the dagger with my right hand, and one enemy collapsed, with the dagger precisely embedding itself in their neck.
I turned to Olivia, but by now, only two enemies had already been taken down, sprawled on the floor.
"You're getting pretty good at this, junior."
"...Sadly, yes."
Olivia didn’t say anything further.
And thus, the West Point operation began.