TL: Skye
After the meeting with Anna ended, I immediately shut myself in my room and went over our conversation.
I organized the hints I'd gathered from talking with her, piecing together the scattered puzzle fragments in my mind one by one.
'Men who spoke polished American English. The ability to create new identities.'
It wasn't a gang.
So who was behind this?
'America? The CIA?'
I considered it briefly, then shook my head.
Why would the world's top superpower bother intervening in this tiny country? What could they possibly gain from bombing the Presidential Palace?
Besides, the method was too crude. That kind of thing might have worked back in the Cold War era of the '70s, but doing it now would invite international condemnation they couldn't handle.
'Then another country... No, that doesn't make sense either.'
On the global stage, San Marcos was a country that hardly mattered whether it existed or not.
During the Cold War, at least its geographical proximity to the US mainland had earned it some love calls from the communist bloc, but once America was established as the world's hegemon, even that geographical value had evaporated.
'And it's not like we have bad relations with any country.'
If I had to name one, maybe Chile, whose mackerel exports got blocked because of the Tortilla Seafood incident—but that happened after the terror attack, not before.
'Then was it an inside job?'
That seemed the most likely possibility at the moment.
Suspects came to mind immediately.
1st Infantry Division Commander, Garcia Motiñu. 2nd Infantry Division Commander, Bruno Leão. Artillery Regimental Commander, Dani Motiñu.
They might have tried to seize San Marcos by exploiting the power vacuum, but...
'They can't possibly not know that Thiago would inevitably take over?'
I looked at the map of San Marcos hanging on one side of my office.
An island nation shaped like an elongated sweet potato lying on its side.
The west held the capital Libertad and the port, concentrating 70% of the population there, while the east consisted of rugged mountains and coastline—a relatively underdeveloped region.
'Anyone can see the west is the prime real estate.'
Meanwhile, the east had rural-level population density. There wasn't a single place that could be called a city. No infrastructure to speak of either.
In the end, anyone trying to seize power in San Marcos absolutely had to control the west. That was the default.
But the roads into the west were guarded like a fortress by the Armored Division.
In modern warfare, the attacking side is always at a disadvantage against an entrenched defender. The regional divisions, already short on forces, would be throwing eggs at a rock if they tried anything.
In other words, even if they'd started something, they'd have cooked up a meal only to hand it over to someone else.
'Then who the hell is it?'
While staring at the map for a long time, my eyes drifted to the northeastern coast.
Barren, empty land. But potential lay dormant there.
"...The Northern Oilfield."
When I was Minister of Natural Resources and Tourism, it was the first project I'd tackled and the last one I'd looked after until the end.
The project's details were complicated. Thanks to the previous minister's disastrous negotiation, an extremely unfavorable contract had been signed.
The terms: if drilling succeeded, Chevron would take 70% and San Marcos would get 30%. I'd overturned that absurd contract the moment I took office.
Of course, it wasn't easy. Both sides had already stamped their seals all over the contract.
But I kept digging. And when I proved that the former minister had taken bribes from Chevron, I used that as leverage to demand a fair ratio.
When things went that way, Chevron played hardball by claiming the oilfield wasn't economically viable and withdrawing.
Judging it to be a negotiating ploy, instead of trying to stop their withdrawal, I chose to wait out the contract period.
Both sides taking a hardline stance against each other. That was the relationship between Chevron and San Marcos.
But.
'What if it wasn't just a negotiating ploy?'
What if they'd been trying to flip the table entirely?
A single hypothesis began connecting the scattered puzzle pieces.
I reexamined the situation with Chevron as the mastermind behind the terror attack.
'If everyone including me died and San Marcos had a regime change, what would Chevron gain?'
The most likely successor at the time was Major General Thiago.
'If Thiago took power, things would definitely be easier for them...'
He wasn't the type who couldn't be bought, unlike President Juan.
Grease his palm appropriately and he'd probably go along with it.
However.
'Isn't the payoff too small for the risk?'
The cost-benefit ratio seemed off.
For all the trouble of killing an entire country's president and cabinet members, the gains were too meager.
'Unless they were trying to swallow the entire oilfield whole...'
A chill ran down my spine.
'Swallow the whole thing?'
I studied the map, tracing the route to where the oilfield was located.
Treacherous mountains and a single road. The worst possible conditions for large-scale troop deployment.
'No way?'
Were they trying to carve off just the east?
"...!"
A chilling hypothesis formed in my mind.
What if they paralyzed the central government by blowing up the president and cabinet, then used the chaos as cover for an eastern warlord to declare independence from the central government? What if Chevron backed that?
Then they could take the entire oilfield.
Even if Thiago had taken power, there wouldn't have been much he could do.
Stabilizing the chaotic government would have been hard enough without also having to fight a civil war.
Moreover, if they blocked the mountain pass, San Marcos would be completely split between east and west.
'If that's the case, the question is who they'd put forward to lead the independence...'
I thought of the most powerful military force stationed in the east.
"Garcia Motiñu."
It was entirely possible. He was the brother of Artillery Regimental Commander Dani Motiñu and commanded the 1st Infantry Division, the strongest military unit in the east.
And that meant, as long as those two still held their commands, the plan hadn't failed—it was still in progress.
"Haa."
Of course, this was all hypothetical. Nothing was certain.
If I had to put odds on it, maybe around 30%?
But one thing was certain.
Whether it was true or not, a thorough investigation was necessary.
"Please tell the Chief of Staff to come to my room."
I immediately summoned Isabella through my secretary waiting outside.
*
A week later, Isabella came to see Yu-jin carrying a thick report.
"Your Excellency's suspicions were correct."
"Haa... They say bad premonitions are never wrong."
Yu-jin squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them and began silently flipping through the report page by page. Isabella stood before him, summarizing the contents for clarity.
"A significant quantity of weapons has recently entered the 1st Infantry Division and Artillery Regiment. There's a notable photograph at the bottom of the first page."
"...Humvees that weren't there before?"
"Cut through the roof and mount a machine gun, and you've got a military tactical vehicle."
"......"
"Beyond that, it appears a large number of conventional weapons have been brought in, including American-made anti-tank rockets and mortars."
"Was any budget allocated to the 1st Infantry Division?"
"None whatsoever."
"Then what money did they use to buy all this..."
"Turn to the next page and you'll see."
On the next page were printed photographs. The image quality was somewhat grainy, as if taken from a distance, but it was enough to identify the subjects.
Yu-jin focused on a photo of Major General Garcia shaking hands with someone.
White men in immaculate suits. Obviously not from San Marcos.
"These are the ones supplying the weapons?"
"Yes."
"Their identities?"
"Based on intercepted communications, they've been confirmed as lawyers from a firm called Douglas & Kaufman."
"A law firm?"
"It's the firm that handles Chevron's lobbying and legal matters."
"How did they enter the country?"
"They appear to have come in as stowaways. Their boat is shown on the next page."
"...Lawyers coming in as stowaways. These bastards are insane."
Yu-jin's eyes sharpened. Lackeys of a massive American oil corporation were treating a mere division commander's quarters like their own home. There couldn't be more conclusive evidence than this.
"Please look at this as well."
Isabella pointed to a situation board with a map drawn on it.
"Over the past week, the troop deployments of the 1st Infantry Division and Artillery Regiment have subtly shifted. Under the guise of training, they're constructing defensive positions on key high ground."
Yu-jin stared hard at the map.
When he connected the dots, they formed a line that precisely divided San Marcos between west and east.
"As expected, Major General Garcia will declare independence."
"Yes."
"What do you think we should do?"
"I believe we should move first."
The correct answer. It was a hundred times better to strike while they were still preparing than to wait and be caught off guard.
"I'll need to speak with Commander Pedro."
"I'll summon him immediately."
"Do that."
*
Shortly after, Pedro entered the office with a grim expression.
After hearing Yu-jin's explanation, his face flushed red with rage.
"Those... traitorous bastards! They dare try to sell off their homeland's territory?!"
Unable to contain his fury, Pedro slammed his fist on the desk.
"Calm down, Commander. Getting angry won't solve anything."
Yu-jin calmly settled him down and pointed at the map.
"I'd like your military assessment. Can we push through with the Armored Division right now?"
Pedro took several ragged breaths while glaring at the map. It didn't take long for him to suppress his emotions and analyze the battlefield with a soldier's eye.
"It would be difficult."
"I was under the impression our forces vastly outnumber theirs?"
"The Armored Division's advantage lies in our tanks and self-propelled artillery."
"And?"
"If they've blocked the pass through the Central Mountains, we have no way to advance. If we tried to force our way through, we'd have to accept unimaginable casualties."
"Hmm."
I'd known this already, but hearing it confirmed was disheartening.
"We need to suppress them before the border is drawn. Is there any way to reduce the risk?"
At Yu-jin's question, Pedro recalled a method he'd been considering for some time.
"Overwhelming firepower capable of neutralizing their defensive positions is the only option."
"What kind of overwhelming firepower are you referring to?"
"Missiles would be ideal."
"That's not going to happen."
No country in the world would sell missiles to San Marcos, a stone's throw from Florida.
"What about aerial bombing with bombers?"
"Hmm..."
Yu-jin shook his head. The only bombers San Marcos' air force possessed were nine A-37s from the Vietnam War era.
Even if we deployed those...
"They'd all get shot down on the way."
The 1st Infantry Brigade's base had dozens of anti-aircraft guns.
"Some might make it through."
"No. We can't sacrifice our entire fleet of fighters for a single bombing run. More importantly, bombing would cause too many casualties."
Pedro nodded at Yu-jin's words, as if he'd expected this.
"Then there's only one option left."
"What?"
"Drones."
"Drones?"
"Yes. If we use drones to neutralize their defensive line, we can suppress them with minimal casualties."
"That might actually work."
Yu-jin nodded.
"However, we'll need a lot of them."
"How many?"
"The more the better."
"Time will be the issue."
"Yes. We don't know when they'll declare independence, so we need to procure them as quickly as possible."
"Understood. Let me see what I can figure out."
Yu-jin nodded with a confident expression.
And that night.
Yu-jin made a phone call.
Ring... Ring... Click.
[Hello?]
"Hey, Min-sik?"