Chapter 11: Operation Riptide (Yuri)
I gazed outside the window of the speeding SUV. It was spring on Tsushima Island, and the scenery was hauntingly beautiful. It reminded me of home. In the morning, there is cerulean and azure and sapphire and cyan, and all around they are landmarked by little puffs of cirrostratus and cumulus. At dawn, the world is birdsong and pink and lavender. At sunset my world is orange and red and yellow, almost like the sky is on fire. The colors are so rich that I taste them on my tongue, and are so vivid that I can feel them in my bones.
But as uplifting as the scenery was, Tsushima Island was not a paradise. And it certainly wasn't home. I grew up in a town just outside Asaka, near Tokyo. It was a town where everyone knew each other. Every day, after school, my little brother and sisters would come back with their gangs of little knuckleheads. I knew all thirteen of them. I knew their names, their families, their hobbies, and their favorite snacks. I knew how to make them happy, and they knew what made me happy. Life in the shade of suburban cherry trees was a life of peace and simplicity.
In contrast, life on Tsushima Island was brutish, violent, and unpredictable.
It wasn't the first time that this fact had dawned on me. It was apparent to all members of the Battlefront, no matter how terrible their previous lives were. Even those who faced daily physical dangers, such as Fujimaki, still had places of refuge and relative safety. Even such minor luxuries were not present in the afterlife. Enemies could attack you when you least expect it, and when they sought a fight, they meant it.
I led the Battlefront in the fight against Angel for almost five years, but I hadn't felt so frustrated since that fateful fight against Shiina in the underground. All this time, I thought that there was only one enemy: Angel. I organized, trained and led hundreds of souls in a quest for ultimate justice. The fight was going in our favor too. We had Angel trapped in a cave. Pak was under control, and we had all the time in the world to plan and make the next move. But then, the Major showed up and changed everything.
The Major was still a mystery. No one had ever seen him before, and no one had seen him since. Pak was the only guy who got a good look at him. If it weren't for the box he left behind, I probably would have simply written off Pak's encounter as a hallucination. Pak said that he once encountered the IJA Major somewhere in Asia. That likely meant Manchukuo, and that meant bad news for the entire Battlefront.
The Major was like Pak in more than one way. They were smart, calculating, mysterious, and dangerous. But unlike Pak, the Major could not be trusted at all. It seemed that he had been in the Afterlife for quite a long time, but he never made his presence known. He never tried to help, resist, or contact the SSS in any way. He might have blended in with the NPCs or faculty during the day, but it was also possible that he just hid in the forests or underground like Noda used to do. Noda did that because he was a moron, but the Major was anything but. The most dangerous enemies were the most unpredictable, and the most unpredictable enemies were usually the best organized and adept. The Major was all four, and he was brutal too.
The scene in the Guild still haunted my memory. It was like something from a horror movie with the added horror of being real. I was in the second-to-last group to leave the Guild. Chaa and Pak had to stay behind to set off the demolition charges. People were busy moving the salvaged materials to the gym, and no one bothered to guard the entrance to the Tunnels itself.
But when they failed to turn up a few hours later, we started to worry. The first scouts I sent down there complained about noxious fumes and had to come back up. Their eyes were watery, and they drooled incessantly. Worried, I grabbed some scuba gear from the swimming pool and headed down there myself. Otonashi and TK followed.
I didn't see the Major myself. He escaped while we were busy relocating the Guild. What I did see, however, were bodies. Yim, Takamatsu, Noda, and Fujimaki were lying in pools of urine and saliva. Noda was still twitching periodically. Otonashi's medical training kicked in; he instantly knew that they were the victims of sarin gas. His medical training proved helpful after all. I initially suspected that the source of the gas was the result of a leak in Pak's laboratory, but the scene I encountered in the Guild forced me to abandon that hypothesis.
There were only two bodies in the Guild—Pak and Chaa. Both went down fighting an unknown assailant. Chaa managed to fire half a magazine at his tormentor, but the Major bested him in the end. He was badly hurt and bled profusely from multiple bullet wounds. Otonashi pushed him to the surface in a wheelbarrow. He was at least still in one piece. Pak wasn't nearly as lucky.
I found Pak disemboweled and partially dismembered in a corner of the Guild. He managed to survive the poison gas, only to succumb to blood loss. His entrails and hand were lying in a large pool of blood and gastric juices on the floor. There was no doubt in my mind that they had been attacked by a new enemy. Angel never used firearms, and she certainly could not have released the poison gas. She had an accomplice.
Our initial suspicions were confirmed when we saw what happened to the ruins of Pak's design bureau. When it blew up earlier, it also brought down a huge section of the roof. A large pile of rock and dirt covered the entrance, trapping Angel inside. When we finally got to ruins, we found that someone had cleared away the debris with the Guild bulldozer and dug Angel out. The Major had rescued her and brought her to the surface. Where they went after that was a mystery. Angel reported back for class the next day, but she was even quieter than usual.
In retrospect, we should have dispatched all the SSS members on a manhunt. Angel, once killed, didn't respawn faster any faster than the rest of us. The Major had to either carry her to a safe location or hide her somewhere in the school. Either way, it should have been possible to find and recapture Angel. But I was so disturbed by what I saw in the Guild that the idea didn't even cross my mind.
In a typical Pak-ian fashion, Pak later wrote me a letter criticizing my actions that day. I should have kept watch over the Tunnels entrance, he said, and I should have gone after Angel as soon as I realized she was missing. He also complained about lack of transport vehicles and security cameras. If those changes were in place, he claimed, then the whole episode would not have happened. He made some valid points, but hindsight was always twenty-twenty. I couldn't help but feel that he was starting to become more dissatisfied with the SSS. Authority ultimately grew out of consent, and even minor grievances, when unaddressed, could spread and amplify.
But for the most part, Pak kept his problems to himself. He never discussed the letter, not even with Yim or Otonashi. If anything, the incident made him more determined and alert. The guy was already a genius. There was no doubt whatsoever about that. Even complete morons like Noda respected him. He could craft the most sophisticated weapons with amazing ease, and he knew just how to use them too. What he didn't know about mechanized warfare wasn't worth learning.
And he wasn't just another nerd either. That niche was filled by Takeyama. Pak was, for the most part, affable, charismatic, and popular. Not just among the SSS members, but also among the NPCs. The teachers liked him for this hard work and intelligence, and the NPC schoolgirls liked him for his looks and can-do attitude. Rumors had it that NPC girls would occasionally send him love letters. He never received any of them, though, as Sandra thought that it was a good prank to steal them for her own personal entertainment. She even based the lyrics of a song based on a love poem intended for Pak. For a former NKVD agent, he was strangely oblivious.
Or maybe Sandra was just too good at being sneaky and acting innocent. During her short life, she served as a member of a Polish underground resistance group smuggling medicine and arms into the Warsaw Ghetto. She managed to hide from the Nazis for two years, before an accidental explosion at a warehouse left her badly maimed and unable to escape. She was highly proficient at her job, and the same skills that kept her alive carried over with her in the afterlife. Her intelligence reports were the best that I could hope for.
But in the end, though, her intelligence and resourcefulness couldn't save her. Sandra was no longer with us.
No one knew exactly what happened in the Tunnels that day, but she was gone. She was obliterated either by Angel or the mysterious Major. Only a guitar and backpack marked her passing.
Sandra was truly gone. Obliterated.
It saddened everyone that Sandra had to be obliterated that day. She had brought so much laughter and joy to the Battlefront, but she passed away so ignominiously. She deserved better. Everyone agreed. She was a hero to the Battlefront, a hero to Warsaw, and a hero to humanity. Couldn't Angel—or maybe the Major—have given her a modicum of respect? Or at least a chance to say goodbye to her friends? But neither Angel nor the Major were fully human. They didn't care about Sandra, her past, or her dreams. I did. And I missed her so much.
I blinked rapidly, finding that my eyes were wet. The moisture leaked out of the corners and rolled down my cheeks. My chest felt so terribly hollow. I hoped, secretly, that she was not truly obliterated but merely kidnapped. But I doubted that Sandra was that lucky. We never received any ransom letters, and we lost all contact with the Major.
News of Sandra's obliteration hit Pak particularly hard. The two, despite their different allegiances and constant taunting, were very close friends. Their exchanges—at least the ones in Japanese—were a fine source of comic relief. But never again would their exchanges delight the Guild, and never again would they experience such joy, even in death. Sandra's life was short and miserable, but at least she made the most of it.
I felt another tear roll down my cheek. This time, Takamatsu noticed. He handed me a handkerchief, which I gratefully accepted. I wiped the tears away from her face. Obliteration was always sad, but the loss of a member as kind and generous as Sandra was particularly so. There was no eulogy fit for such a great name.
I held back the rest of my tears. There was still had a mission to accomplish, and I needed to concentrate. Keeping calm and carrying on sounded simple, but it was so much easier said than done.
I went over the operation plans again once more in my head. Like most Battlefront operations, Operation Riptide relied on meticulous timing and coordination. But unlike the previous operations, Riptide was directed against a member of the Battlefront—Pak—and therefore highly classified. Most of the Guild, including Yim, were kept in the dark. The full details were only known to Takamatsu, Otonashi, Chaa, and myself. We had been planning for almost a week, carefully locating the objectives and organizing our supplies. We made thorough contingency plans as well. There was little room for error.
The operation consisted of two simultaneous and separate parts. The first one was an operation devised by Takamatsu and Otonashi—crossing into Busan to obtain benzodiazepines for Pak. It would be the first time that any of us would leave Tsushima Island. Takamatsu and TK were in charge of the overall mission, while Chaa was in charge of the sea voyage. Otonashi also prepared extensively for the mission, making a list of all benzodiazepine drugs and their trade names. Having him tag along with Takamatsu would have been preferable, but he was still too inexperienced for such a difficult operation.
But even with the extensive preparations, I still had some doubts. Would they be able to land in Busan? Would they be able to locate a pharmacy in time? And would the drugs have Japanese or English labels at all? Nothing was possible without daring, but even for a SSS operation, Operation Riptide was highly daunting.
The second part of the operation, though, was a lot easier. We were going to break into Angel's room. Our previous attempts were foiled by our poor English skill and general stupidity. But with Pak and our newest member, Takeyama, those obstacles vaporized into thin air. We had to act while we still had the upper hand. Angel, the Major and Pak were all ticking bombs.
At 6:00pm—not 5:59, not 6:01—I received a text from Chaa: "All preparations are complete. The Cyclops is in the Aviation Engineering Building."
I promptly deleted the text and gave TK the go-ahead. The Honda Pilot accelerated as it rounded the cliff edge.
Soon, the new Guild came into view. It was a very impressive sight—I expected nothing less from Pak. Buildings, factories, warehouses, and containers were neatly stacked by the picturesque seaside. Trucks carry dirt and machined parts came and went on the asphalt roads. Cranes lifted concrete pillars and machinery into unfinished buildings. Bulldozers and steamrollers cleared out land for runways and hangars. Inside the factors, hundreds of workers churned out guns and cannons for a new fight against Angel. Mechanization and expansion created entirely new possibilities, and it would not have happened without Pak.
Pak took extensive measures to ensure the security of the new base. Deep trenches, bunkers, and barbed wire surrounded the entire facility. Machine gun nests, antitank guns, and guard towers covered the roads in and out of the Guild. The facility looked like that it was designed to withstand the Siege of Stalingrad.
The guards let us through the main gate, and TK dropped me off by the Aviation Engineering Building, which was still in construction. I signaled for TK to drive away. Pak didn't need to know that TK, Matsushita, and Takamatsu were also in the New Guild.
I found our Chief Engineer busy working at a wind tunnel. Forklifts carried machinery, test equipment, and furniture off of trucks and into areas marked with colored tape. Cranes lifted the fan blades onto scaffolds, where workers brazed them into position. Riveters and welders moved with uncommon speed and vigor. Pak was making rapid progress.
Pak himself was standing at a desk not far away from the fans, working feverishly on blueprints and spreadsheets. He discussed logistics on the phone while drafting what seemed to be a gearbox on the drawing board. Yim was busy by his side, typing and dispatching new instructions. Pak was incredibly quick to respond to changing demands and new problems. I never had to wait long for new weapons, and it was not hard to see why.
Yim was the first to notice my arrival. She greeted me with a wide but tired smile. She pulled on Pak's elbow.
"Hello, Yurippe," Pak greeted, wiping sweat from his forehead, "Sorry that it's so hot in here. The air conditioning unit should be installed by 22:35 tonight." His tone was energetic, but he was in rough shape. His hair was noticeably disheveled, and his face was covered by a layer of soot. He had dark bags under his eyes.
"Um… Ralf-kah," Yim replied, "I just got an email from Tamatani. He is having trouble with eddy currents in the air conditioner's transformer and would like an extension."
"Tell him to laminate the core and electrically insulate them. Use the silicon steel in Warehouse 5, Row 22, Column 50." Yim immediately turned to type the instructions into the computer. Pak had little trouble remember details like that, but normal people did.
"You're making fantastic progress here," I complimented, looking around the room, "Is this the wind tunnel you wanted?"
"It's as good as it's ever going to be," Pak admitted, shrugging slightly, "At Peenemünde, we used natural caves to store and seal air. We had wind tunnels that were supersonic. This one can only reach 1100 km/h, but it's good enough for us."
"That's good news. How is the ship project coming along?"
"Swimmingly," Pak replied, earning a few chuckles from the nearby workers, "The structure and propulsion systems are complete. Chaa is busy installing navigational equipment there right now. We'll be taking it out for sea trials tomorrow. It should be able to hit 25 knots in smooth waters."
"Fantastic." It really was fantastic. Chaa had taken a lead role in building the ship, and he knew it like the back of his hand. And as long as the boat was seaworthy, Operation Riptide could go ahead. The sea voyage had to succeed.
"Is there any particular reason for your visit, Yurippe?" Pak asked, twitching periodically from all the caffeine in his system, "The telephone wires were just connected a few minutes ago. You don't have to come down here anymore. Not to deliver messages, anyway." Pak was rather paranoid when it came to new communications technologies. He was particularly suspicious of email and text messages because wireless transmissions were easier to intercept. He insisted on telephone and fax communications between the school and the Guild. It was annoying at times, but Pak wouldn't have it any other way.
"Yes, Pak," I began. I drew a deep breath. This was the point of no return. "We will be infiltrating Angel's room tonight. We need someone with good English skills to decipher her documents."
"Why would they be in English?" Pak asked, scratching his unshaved chin, "I mean, Angel does name her special abilities in English, but does she use English for everyday documentation?"
"We've done this before, Pak," I explained, "We use GirlDeMo to distract Angel while the assault team breaks into her room. We broke in on multiple occasions, but her important computer files were all in English. We need someone who can read it quickly and accurately, so we need you to join us tonight. Yim can come too."
Pak and Yim nodded. "Sure. I'm willing to help. Just let me tell Chaa…" He turned to Yim, who took out a walkie talkie.
"There's no need, Pak," I interrupted, "I bumped into him on the way in. I've told him all about it. He'll cover for you."
"I see," Pak replied, "Yim, please cancel the sea trials later tonight. I want to inspect it one more time before we launch. Transfer the personnel to dormitory construction. There's still a lot of electrical work left, and we need another AC unit for that too."
Yim turned to make another entry into the computer terminal as Pak went to collect his belongings. A minute later, a white SUV—Pak's BMW X5—pulled up near the entrance of the wind tunnel. It was hitched to a trailer full of guns, explosives, and ammunition to be delivered to the school. The struggle against god and Angel required a lot of material, and delivers had to be quick and efficient. NPCs' cars were the perfect solution.
A Guild member tossed Pak the keys, and we hopped in. Yim climbed into the back seat a minute later, holding a laptop and a radio. Pak liked to be in constant communication with the Guild. Soon, we were speeding up the mountain road leading back to the school.
The island seemed to glow under the radiant glow of sunset, but I was too anxious to enjoy it. Takamatsu, Chaa, and TK were on their own. There was nothing I could do to help them with the trip to Busan. The only thing I could do to ensure the success of Operation Riptide was to explain the second part of the operation to Pak and get his advice.
"At 7:30pm, GirlDeMo will be starting its performance in the auditorium," I explained, pointing at the location on a small map, "The school administrators and Angel will be there to stop them. That's when we will infiltrate Angel's room, which is on the 3rd floor of the Girls' Dormitory."
Pak took a quick glance at the map before shifting his gaze back to the road. "How long do we have to examine her files? A proper search for a room that size needs thirty minutes, given our squad size."
"From previous experience, we can only get 15 to 25 minutes. Takeyama says that he needs five minutes to hack into Angel's computer system, so you need to account for that as well."
"I'll do my best," Pak replied, "But I can't make any guarantees. We should try to get another two or three members to join us, though." He wasn't happy about the timing, but he had no suggestions to offer. The GirlDeMo diversion was a tried-and-true method, and Pak valued effectiveness and reliability above all else. He wanted our operations to be smooth and predictable.
But one thing that wasn't nearly as smooth was the road back to the school. The road wound through steep hillsides and was full of potholes—big, deep ones. They made the SUV and trailer jolt like a broken carnival ride. It was a nuisance that Pak hoped to fix next week. But then, potholes weren't the only things bouncing the car around.
Blam! An explosion? I ducked before I even knew I did it. We were still miles from the school, but instincts kicked in nevertheless. Pieces of broken glass fell around me. The transmission let out a metallic screech, and the wheels let out a clunking sound. The chassis began vibrating. At least one of our tires was blown.
"What the hell was that?" Pak cursed, struggling to steer the wounded car, "Did a grenade go off the in the trailer?"
I sat up and looked back. The rear window was shattered, but the trailer was undamaged. I looked back at Yim for an answer, but she was looking down. It was only then I realized that she was clutching at a bloody leg.
"It was a mine!" Yim squawked, "We hit a landmine." So it wasn't a grenade going off? So it was intentional?
"I've lost brakes and steering," Pak shouted, "I think that we lost our hydraulics." He was pumping the brakes, but we were not slowing down. The SUV was picking up speed as it descended the hill, and a sharp corner was rapidly approaching. The noise from the chassis was growing louder, and the drops next to the mountain road became steeper.
"Can you make that turn?" I had to bellow at the top of my lungs to make myself heard.
"Not a chance," Pak answered, struggling to turn the steering wheel with both hands, "Steering is jammed. Use the emergency brake. Pull it."
The BMW X5 did not have a parking brake lever. Instead, it had a plastic switch that could be lifted. It took me a second to find it, but when I pulled it, the car immediately responded.
The car slowed as I hoped, but it also curved sharply to the left. The SUV grazed along the guardrail, producing a shower of sparks. The guardrail was starting to bend under the immense inertia of the SUV.
And when the trailer hit, the guardrail finally snapped. The trailer tipped over the edge and dragged us down with it. The SUV spun in midair as we descended towards the rocky riverbed below.
I closed my eyes shortly before we hit the ground. There was a massive bang, and I felt the seatbelt jerk against my shoulder. There a sharp pain in my chest and neck. The next thing I knew, I was staring into a broken dashboard and a bloody airbag. I tried to reach out to Pak, but my arm didn't want to work. When I looked down, I understood why. It didn't hurt. Then, all at once, it did.
The shriek bubbled through the blood filling my throat. Mercifully, darkness soon enveloped me, and it didn't hurt anymore.
Jargon Dictionary
Asaka, Saitama:
Asaka is a city located in Saitama prefecture, in the central Kanto region of Japan. The city is located 15 km (9 mi) from Tokyo and often serves as a bedroom community for those commuting to Tokyo for work. It has a population of 136,000 and an area of 18.34 km2 (7.08 sq mi). The city is known throughout the region for its beautiful parks and golf courses.
Silicon steel:
Also known as electrical steel and transformer steel, silicon steel is a specialty steel tailored to produce certain magnetic properties. It may have zero to 6.5% silicon. The silicon increases the electrical resistivity of the steel. This property is particularly useful in transformers, as it decreases induced eddy currents and reduces core loss.
BMW X5 (E70):
The BMW X5 is a mid-size luxury SUV produced by BMW. It represents the second-generation of the BMW X5 SUV and is manufactured in Greer, South Carolina and Toluca, Mexico. Pak's vehicle is a 2010 BMW X5 xDrive48i, which is powered by a BMW N62 V8 DOHC piston engine capable of producing 353hp at 6300rpm. The vehicle is currently being recalled for its faulty Takata airbags.
Closing
Dima: Hey guys. Sorry for the long wait. I took some time to correct typos and inconsistencies in the previous chapters. They should read a little better now. Sorry again for the wait.
Pak: You say that in every closing. Aren't you done with the MCATs anyway? What else are you worried about now?
Dima: Yeah, but I'm taking a lot of courses this semester. I'm going for a triple major, so the amount of reading I have to do is immense. I'm also doing a lot of volunteering and working as a biology teaching assistant. I'm enjoying all of it, but it does not leave me with a lot of time for other activities.
Pak: Don't you have four midterms next week? Why are you uploading now?
Dima: Because something very unfortunate happened yesterday. I was very shocked and saddened to find out.
Pak: Oh…
Dima: That's right. The beloved King Bhumibol the Great of Thailand passed away yesterday in Siriraj Hospital in Bangkok. He passed away at age 88, having reigned for over 70 years.
Yim: Yes. I was also very sad to find out-kah. I had hoped that we would live to 120.
Pak: Are you going to attend the funeral?
Dima: I can't make it. But I did go to the Thai Student Club's meeting yesterday. We wrote letters commemorating the King. The letters will be passed on to the Thai Consulate in NYC and be shipped to Thailand.
Pak: What can we do in the meantime?
Dima: Iwasawa and Sandra helped me write a poem. I would like you all to help me perform it in his honor.
Yuri: Wait, Sandra? How is she…
Dima: I decline to comment. We have other things to do.
Pak: (Takes out alto saxophone) I know that the King played the alto sax. I will do the same.
Dima: (Takes out tenor sax) Yes. I'll accompany you on the tenor sax.
Iwsawa: I'll be a vocalist. Yim, Yuri, could you please join me?
Yim: Sure. It'll be a pleasure-kah.
Yuri: Singing is not my forte, but I'm happy to try.
Hisako: My guitar is ready to go.
Miyuki & Shiori: Drums and bass are ready to go as well.
Yui: I'll be conducting you all, so you better pay attention. Let's start.
The tone is set to the Battle Hymn of the Republic. The lyrics are as follows:
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of our King.
He's the father of the nation to whom we shall always sing.
Throughout the land of Thais, shall all our voices ring.
For his truth is marching on.
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
For his truth is marching on.
King Bhumibol's body lies resting in the grave,
While weep children of the father whom he ventured all to save.
But though he lost his life while struggling for the brave.
His soul is marching on.
(Chorus)
The King was a hero, undaunted true, and brave.
Thailand knew his valor; he fought for her rights to save.
And even the grass grows green above his grave,
His soul is marching on.
(Chorus)
He expelled Thawal Thamrong with his seven men so few,
And he frightened brazen Viet Congs till they trembled through and through.
He was a brave and honest man; to his heart he holds true.
His soul is marching on.
(Chorus)
In the beauty of the moonlight, the King was born across the sea,
With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me.
As he lived to make Thais unite, let us live to make them free.
For his truth is marching on.
(Chorus)
The nation that he heralded he looks down from heaven to view,
On the people of unity with their flag red white and blue.
And heaven rings with anthems for the deed he means to do,
For the King's soul is marching on.