I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun-Chapter 804: Washington D.C (20)

"What's the meaning of this, Race!"

"To request a full retreat without even completing the mission objectives in Washington D.C.? Are you out of your mind? Without a word to Talisman?"

"So?"

"...You're really not thinking straight. This matter will be formally reported to the higher-ups. Wait in your personal room. The military police will be here to escort you shortly."

"Interesting. Try it if you can."

Click!

Inside the Kestrel-Talisman Integrated Command Center, the operations control room.

With an ominous metallic sound, the partition walls of the operations room were closed, sealing off entry. Simultaneously, the operations officers who had been moving around the room froze in place. They sensed the unsettling atmosphere that suddenly filled the room.

But that wasn’t the end. These individuals were not just staff, but combatants as well, and the next moment, they aimed their pistols or rifles at Race. Even the two highest-ranking commanders of the Talisman Brigade had their pistols aimed at her.

A tense situation on the brink of explosion.

But then, a strange metallic sound echoed throughout the room, causing everyone to pause. The only person who understood that the sound came from the adjustment lever of a firearm was one person.

Race, as though nothing were amiss, leisurely walked around the room. Someone, seeing her relaxed demeanor, put their finger on the trigger and attempted to fire, but the trigger remained frozen, as though it were made of stone.

As the oddity began to spread, Race leisurely opened her mouth.

"Not to brag, but I’ve been focusing on self-improvement recently. If you keep trying to fix it with a single pull, next time, your finger might fly off."

"...Damn it, Crow! Why are you just standing by and doing nothing?"

"Everyone, sit down and listen. There's something we need to discuss."

Silence.

However, no one in the room was unaware of the sudden change in the situation. The closed partition walls meant that no reinforcements could be called in from the outside.

Still, two individuals casually took their seats. Only Race and Crow could afford to remain so composed. The two highest-ranking commanders of the Talisman Brigade, and the operation staff caught in the tense situation, all gazed at the eye of the storm with displeasure.

With a shameless expression, Race scanned the room before speaking first.

"So, what's the problem? Did I say anything about retreating immediately?"

"Don't stray from the point, Race. You're currently disregarding the entire information-sharing system in place here, and at the same time, you’re advocating for a premature retreat when the mission has not been completed. Depending on how it’s interpreted, this could be considered sabotage."

"You argue that the destruction of the Zeta air defense base justifies a retreat, but the tactical weapons the current brigade possesses can easily compensate for this loss."

"Is that so? With just 40 cruise missiles and around 300kg of Eclipse canisters? Do you know how the enemy managed to destroy the Zeta base, and what we need to do to prevent it from happening again?"

"That's excessive concern. Don’t act based on things that haven’t happened yet."

In reality, it was a standoff.

The two commanders of the Talisman Brigade could not understand why Race was being so obstinate.

She had openly given up on engaging and was demanding a retreat, submitting her request to the higher-ups without a word to the rest of the command. This report was filled with threats, as mentioned directly by her, stating that the capital should be evacuated.

However.

The reason they couldn’t stop Race through any means other than words was simple—the directive from the web was vague and ambiguous at best.

The key points of the guidelines were twofold. One was the authorization for tactical weapons, including Eclipse gas, and the other was an evacuation through specific points in case of an extreme situation.

Strictly speaking, Race had been using her given authority effectively. There was nothing to stop her from voicing her opinion and carrying out actions as requested.

That’s also why the two commanders were discussing sabotage, rather than insubordination, at this point.

"You’re talking nonsense. Let’s say the next attack is blocked with Eclipse gas and cruise missiles. What next? The air defense network has already started failing. Don’t you wonder whose head will be struck by a lightning bolt next?"

"The countermeasures are already in place. After analyzing the results, it’s believed that deploying a more flexible mobile strike force will be effective in wiping out the enemy. All units in the strike force have the authority to guide cruise missiles, and we can even implement a Broken Arrow scenario if necessary."

"Do you think that's the right course of action?"

"If necessary."

A brief silence.

None of the people in the room seemed to flinch or make any expression. Race, too, remained stoic. But hidden behind her emotionless face was displeasure.

No one in that room found sacrifice strange.

That was because they had all been 'conditioned.'

In any case, Race didn’t care how the situation turned out.

She kept probing the loopholes in the orders and repeated only what she wanted to say. The argument continued, and Race started to be pushed into a corner, as she had intended.

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

Crow remained somewhat neutral, and everyone in the TOC, except for Race, had been conditioned to offer blind loyalty to the Syndicate.

But, despite being in a situation where one would typically be flustered, she kept speaking. She had no intention of properly listening to others or adjusting her own views through discussion.

It was nothing more than trolling.

How much time had passed?

Race heard a sigh from the other side.

"We have no choice. If you still refuse to understand, we’ll have to reconsider the whole plan."

"What did you say?"

"I’ve requested a clear guideline from the higher-ups. I’ve already scripted all of this conversation. It’s been sent to the command in Bahama, so you’ll receive a separate communication shortly. From here on, it’s up to the senior command to decide."

"What a ridiculous trick..."

And this is where it got important.

Race, outwardly showing a look of defeat, was secretly pleased that everything was unfolding just as she had predicted.

However, to be precise, this was just the beginning. The higher-ups still believed that Race, while having the rationality to judge the situation, remained absolutely loyal to HQ.

She let out a small sigh to hide her emotions and ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ put on her helmet. As she pressed the button, parts stacked and formed the helmet.

Eventually, the helmet fully covered her head.

A new screen appeared in the middle of the TOC, and it didn’t take long for the noise on the screen to settle into a clear image.

And then-

-...I’ve received the data you sent. But it’s difficult to accurately assess the situation with just this. You’ll need to explain it yourself.

"May I speak first?"

-Please do.

One of the Talisman Brigade commanders saluted and began speaking, providing a detailed explanation.

The explanation lasted for a long time, and the vast majority of it was filled with statements from the two highest-ranking commanders of the Talisman Brigade. Race remained silent and could only observe the entire process from start to finish.

She had long realized that this situation was not going to unfold in her favor. Her opponent realized it too, and started mixing in increasingly bold distortions.

By the time the briefing ended, Race knew that her reputation had been tarnished. She was now labeled as a defeatist.

Of course, she didn’t care about that.

How long had passed?

On the other side of the screen, someone she had barely met—only having seen him once when the gear was recovered—Web Minister, took a small breath.

-So, this is how things turned out.

"Yes."

-Do you have anything to say, Kestrel TF1 Commander, Rebecca Bailey?

"Will you take it into consideration?"

The sourc𝗲 of this content is freēwēbηovel.c૦m.

-That depends on the content.

"In that case, I won’t say anything."

After a long silence, the judgment began.

-Your... achievements have been monitored for some time. The first thing that stood out was the somewhat disastrous result. During the large-scale clash with the Dagger team, you lost several Hunters, which only benefited the Pentagon, and when you personally went for reconnaissance, you clashed with the Dagger team and returned after losing. Do you acknowledge this?

"I acknowledge it."

-Although the mistake at the Zeta air defense base is not under your jurisdiction, abandoning the entire campaign without preparing for the consequences seems irrational. What do you think?

"I’ll wait for the Minister’s judgment."

-Heh.

Another brief silence.

She calmly awaited the result, and the hologram of a human-like figure on the screen opened its mouth.

-Although not all of your statements can be called wrong, you expressed an unacceptably negative opinion regarding the Black Eagle operation in Washington D.C. Isn’t that so?

"Yes."

-You are currently at a disadvantage, and personally, I believe that in such situations, there are things you should not easily say. Even if it’s the truth. And... your statement clearly crossed that line.

"I understand."

-However, given the special circumstances, it’s not appropriate to punish you under military law, and your uniqueness is also considered in that. So... let’s do this. I’ll demote your rank.

The following words:

-You’ll need to handle the morale you’ve shattered yourself. You mentioned encountering the Dagger team on the frontlines? If you manage to defeat them, it’ll be enough reason to restore your rank.

"I understand."

-You’ll take command of the mobile strike force and directly participate in combat. Given your physical peculiarities, I believe you can achieve results. This matter will be concluded here.

Resources and unnecessary sacrifices of friendly forces were used as reasons for retreat, yet now she was tasked with leading the mobile strike force, which would likely result in unnecessary sacrifices. Truly, it was an irony.

As she thought about this, she heard a response from the direction of the noise. It wasn’t Race’s own words.

At the far end of the sound, the two highest-ranking commanders of the Talisman Brigade nodded in agreement. However, Race felt nothing from looking at them.

As the salute ended, the screen turned off, and the locked partition walls opened, allowing the military police to enter.

"Please follow me to your personal room, Commander Race."

"...Fine."

She bit her lip carefully while wearing her helmet. As her elongated canines, no longer human, pricked her lip, she felt a sharp pain and tasted a metallic flavor.

Race left the operations room, ignoring the gaze of Crow behind her. It was the best outcome she had hoped for, but she couldn’t shake the strange feeling inside her.

The taste was bitter.

Not long after, the intense US military assault began.

This was an excerpt from the events that transpired two months before leaving Washington D.C.