Chapter Text
Quick to recollect himself from the horror, Geumsaegi turned to stare at the leaders of the Wolf Unit as if in disbelief. He took a moment to blink, slowly, as if coming to a realization. “Wait. You would pump poisonous gas into the facility’s hallways where YOUR OWN TROOPS ARE?”
If I can get them to turn off the gas immediately, then the scouts should recover quickly enough to hide.
Assistant Jogjebi shifted, as if uncomfortable with the idea of leaving his own soldiers to die, and then straightened as he remembered that the victims would be wolves and not other weasels. Commander Seungnyangi blinked, as if considering the idea that allowing other wolves under his command to die would be a bad idea for his leadership.
Officer Yeou quickly waved him off, moving forward towards the disguised squirrel, “and if there are scouts from Flower Hill that somehow made their way into the torture chamber, not that we would be able to tell from any cameras on the off chance it is a disguise, then they will pass out and die. The problem is very easily solved, except for figuring out how they managed to get into the facility in the first place.” She eyed Geumsaegi with thought. If he demands I turn off the gas, and save any scouts that may be in there, then he is definitely suspicions. If I refuse, he might even confess…
Geumsaegi took a step forward, stretching up to intimidate. “Those doors are open until closed from the outside. If you turned the poisonous gas on, without closing the door, then would the gas not flow out into these very halls? Do you even know what the gas smells like in order to locate it? What if it gets into the ventilation system and spreads to the other buildings?” Officer Yeou paused, disconcerted by the aggression, while Mulmangcho at least had the decency to appear alarmed. No one considered that it was odd that the liaison knew about the interconnected ventilation systems. Movement flickered in the corner of Geumsaegi’s eye. Perfect.
The golden squirrel whipped around, pointing. Oegwipali had moved slightly to try and drag the unconscious Dr. Dudeoji away, while Mulmangcho had taken a few steps back as well. If the poison in the torture chamber had a smell, it was likely that the mice would sense it flowing into the hallway, even before the wolves. Of course, it depended on the type of poison and how fast it was being pumped out, as well as its density. “Where are you going? Are you trying to run off with him back to Flower Hill?”
I have to rescue my comrades quickly! If the door to the cell is open, they at least have a little bit of time for me to do something! If the Wolf Unit has the capabilities for gas, then they must have respirators around.
Mulmangcho growled, balling his paws into fists, frantically looking between Officer Yeou and the unmoving mole at his feet. “Turn that gas off you idiots! We might be fine for a bit, but with Dr. Dudeoji’s condition, one trace of the gas and he may not recover for further questioning! And besides, we can't question the scouts if they are dead!”
Commander Seungnyangi’s ears titled back as he stomped his cane, eyes flashing blue while he prepared to speak, barring his teeth. Excited as if he had been given a revelation, he glared between Geumsaegi and Mulmangcho. Slowly, he began to point at them both, as if to give an order of execution or action.
A sudden explosion rocked the anti-espionage facility, dislodging large debris from the ceiling that crashed onto the floor, leaving large cracks and dents. Screams of shock and fear echoed from further into the facility, from others who had been caught in the brunt of the blast. The remote device Officer Yeou had been holding shattered on the floor as she fell, Commander Seungnyangi landing next to her, while Geumsaegi barely managed to keep his own balance without moving his tail too much like a squirrel.
She won’t be able to turn off the gas if the device is broken! He had to get away from the group and find the scouts himself, before it was too late.
Assistant Jogjebi attempted to help the wolf commander to his feet, only for his hand to be swatted away with a snap of teeth. “What is going on?”
“The gas must have ignited a spark in one of the boiler rooms and caused an explosion!” A wolf yelled from down the hallway, quickly joining his more frantic kin in trying to find an exit to the facility that was not blocked off.
“You are using poison gas that ignites? What if the other boilers explo-” Geumsaegi was cut off by another detonation, larger this time. Quickly, he managed to dodge what appeared to be a falling rock, only for a smaller piece hidden behind it to find its mark on his helmet, forcing a gasp. For a moment, he kneeled on the ground, stunned, listening to the cracking sounds around himself and his vision briefly turned to static.
“Special Aide!” Snapping back to reality, the squirrel looked up in time to see Assistant Jogjebi pointing at him, attempting to warn him of something, but reluctant to offer a hand himself.
The floor crackled under the impacts of more rubble, and the squirrel lunged forward, half to escape and half to grab Mulmangcho, wrestle him to the ground to prevent him from escaping. In front of him, part of the wall gave way, exposing pipes and wiring, and spraying a plume of fire into the hallway, separating the mice and mole from the rest of the group.
Further stunned by the sudden burning heat, Geumsaegi was forced to step backwards. The buckling floor finally gave way beneath him, sending the disguised mouse plunging into the darkness below.
Deftly, through instinct alone, Geumsaegi caught himself on some rebar before he hit the ground, quickly moving out of sight of the hole above him as the sudden movement briefly made his head spin. My comrades don’t have much time! Three of his dearest friends were possibly counting on him to save them. He had to find his way through the tunnels. Find respirators, deliver them.
Is the poison gas the kind that drifts towards the ceiling, or settles close to the ground? If it is a torture chamber, and they want the victims alive, then surely, they would not have the poison settle where their prisoner could collapse. The gas could still be used to turn the area into an execution chamber, which would possibly require denser gas to settle on the ground, preventing a victim from laying down to rest, depending on the amount. That sounded like something the wolves would do. They would not even have the civilized decency to slip the prisoners a drugged last meal before their execution, so they would not be awake to feel the terror.
Too bad he was technically not supposed to be in the anti-espionage facility in the first place, in order to find out. He could not have even known about the gas to begin with, let alone ask what kind it was or how it was dispensed.
At the end of the tunnel, he found an underground river, possibly diverted from elsewhere, with a grated door serving as a barrier. Several types of boats and collections of crates littered the area, with Geumsaegi noting a very familiar dolphin submarine anchored nearby, having been confiscated weeks previously from Bamsaegi and Murori. If this was a supply depot, it was a question for later, since if there was a river and boats, then surely there had to be oxygen tanks. And if there were oxygen tanks, then perhaps a few of them had already been filled. He would have preferred a proper gas mask, but he did not know where those were stored, or if he could find any before being found himself. From what he recalled, at least, the mice had been cut off from the wolves, so it was not as if they could talk together if everyone was fleeing the explosions. If Mulmangcho and Oegwipali tried to run off with Dr. Dudeoji, it could easily be misconstrued as extracting him at the order of Flower Hill. And that even assumed it had been the real mole lying on the ground behind them, and not another look-alike playing along.
He had to find his little brother, his wild duck comrade, and the brother of his dear Scout Goseumdochi. He had to either hide them someplace, or take them to the exit so they could escape. Their mission had failed, and for Flower Hill’s sake, he could not let his own mission fail here. Not when he had finally won the trust of the wolves, something absolutely imperative for the future of his nation. If the young scouts were found in the facility, it would prove that he was the traitor they had been searching for, and Mulmangcho had been correct and loyal the entire time. No, if the scouts were dead, or too far incapacitated to recover quickly, then Geumsaegi would have to dispose of them himself. Surely, there were open flames about by now that could burn a few corpses and uniforms beyond recognition? Maybe send the bodies down the underground river if he could drag them that far?
What would I even tell Juldarami? No, he would understand.
Burning yet resolute tears at the thought of the possible task ahead forced Geumsaegi’s search of the area to become all the more difficult. He could remember Bamsaegi’s smile, lasting from his time as a growing pup, and into the last time they had had a peaceful meal together, when General Commander Jogjebi had been disposed of. He still smiles afterwards, of course, but there was something harder behind it, as if innocence was being pushed aside for understanding. On one hand, it was a massive relief that his little brother had finally come to his senses about the dangers of the world. On the other hand, there was something sad about the loss.
Playing with his little brother as a child, watching him grow up, becoming the perfect vision of a scout. He remembered the times he had gently scolded the younger squirrel with mild amusement when he would sneak off to parts unknown with Undochi, so they could get a better view of the fireworks during festivals. The memories had been tainted by a more frantic desperation when he had caught the two planning to sneak off again after the initial attack with the Weasel Army. Bamsaegi had simply smiled after the attack, saying he was fine, ignoring his healing arm in a sling. He had never thought to ask how the little squirrel had managed to get injured during the attack, not when he had been so calm about it, but the concept haunted him months later while witnessing the cruelty of the mice and weasels in the army firsthand.
And now this. He might not even be able to get to say goodbye.
It was not their fault, of course. The Wolf Unit was just far more clever than they could have expected, skilled in routing out scouts and infiltrators, and even he had made the mistake of underestimating Mulmangcho in the end.
A few markers and highlighters, some pins. A large bag of magnets? I can use these to reach a key or unlock a door.
A group of three oxygen tanks with adjustable mouthpieces, possibly belonging to Mulmangcho’s group, and a small gas mask for himself. Hopefully, these can be adjusted to fit over beaks and smaller muzzles. If the masks had been for wolves, he was sure it could have worked. He still had to find the scouts.
Even the thought of disposing of even one of the trio if he could not save them, was almost too much to bear. But he would do it, for Flower Hill, as was his duty.
The floor above had been evacuated, at the very least, but he could still hear shouting as the wolves ran around outside, attempting to find some sort of order to the chaos. The building itself would not collapse so soon, but it was unlikely to be habitable for some time. Debris forced him to climb up to the main floor, before moving to find another set of stairs to move back to where he remembered the torture chambers were.
Moving down the mostly blocked stairs, Geumsaegi noticed something small and shiny that should not have been in the area, next to the boiler room. A small cap, the same color as a Flower Hill primer for a remote bomb. So, they planted grenades as they tried to escape. Clever. So very clever. In hindsight, it made sense. If the gas was flammable enough to explode a boiler room, then surely the entirety of the gas would have ignited and turned the building into a fire pit, instead of large earth-shaking explosions? Hopefully, the fox and the wolf commander would not think of such a thing.
He could see that the timer had been set before the device was left behind. The bomb could be deactivated remotely, if the scouts managed to escape, for them to better hide their tracks. For it to go off, it meant they either had no time deactivate it, or were unable to do so. There should be more than one, if Murori decided to use it. He knew ducks. The remnants of the other grenade were found further down, in the second boiler room. More items for him to dispose of, to hide both his and the scouts’ tracks. The air in the hallways began to be tinged with green.
Finally, at long last, Geumsaegi managed to reach the torture rooms where he and Mulmangcho had been tested, pausing briefly as a shock of realization ripped through him. What if Mulmangcho was lying and this is a trap? What if they were never in here? If I get caught, I can either say I was looking for the real Dr. Dudeoji or I grabbed the tanks for myself assuming I would be trapped for a while, and so many because they were tangled. It would depend on who caught him, and what they were willing to believe.
But no, that did not matter, not anymore. Through the green tinged atmosphere, he could see the three small forms collapsed in the torture room, signs of a struggle to move and breathe on the ground. Shakily, breathing almost too fast for the protective mask to keep up, the golden squirrel knelt over his cherished comrades. They were alive, barely. Drooling and foaming at the mouth, but they were alive. Open door and collapsed walls allowed the hissing poison to spread from a pipe in the wall, Officer Yeou having not the wherewithal to turn it off through other means yet. Which was a pity for them, seeing as how some of the pipes in the anti-espionage facility appeared to lead back into the main facilities were the wolves lived. Something he could possibly use, later, as revenge for what had happened here.
The mouthpieces adjusted perfectly, the filled oxygen tanks carrying approximately three hours of clean air for them to breathe, hopefully long enough for them to come back to themselves and recover. But are their lungs destroyed for good? He still did not know what kind of poison it was, if their organs had been irreversibly destroyed, or if simple air would do the trick.
Moving them out of the room was the first priority, lest the door lock on them. It had been enough of a risk to go in there in the first place, as he had before when he was accosted by the three wolves. Across the hall, a portion of the rock wall had given way, creating an alcove. Quickly, Geumsaegi moved some debris away from the hole, burrowing into it and to the side it to make it big enough for four beings, whilst appearing smaller from the outside if anyone removed the debris from the entrance. He stashed the bodies of the unconscious young scouts inside.
In the torture room, any stray feathers from Murori were rounded up, same with loose quills from Undochi. If Bamsaegi had lost any tufts of fur, he could not tell, not with how thick his tail was. The marks on the ground could be explained as part of the ruckus from the other day, or from other victims.
Then, there was the problem with the message, where Mulmangcho had drawn on Lily Bells to confuse the inexperienced scouts. Clever bastard. Well met. I need to kill him as soon as possible!
But he did not have time to ruminate, or fully explain. Soon, the wolves would come into the facility to look for survivors or the supposed scouts.
‘Mulmangcho knows the codenames for Pangulggot. I order you to leave immediately.’ The message was short, but hopefully, they would understand. Once inside, Geumsaegi rearranged the debris to hide the hole in the wall, gently allowing his hand to caress behind round ears, sharp quills, and white feathers. Bamsaegi, Undochi, and Murori had only three hours of air, three hours to escape on their own.
“I’m sorry. I cannot help you any more than this.” It was not as if they could hear his whispered goodbyes.
He had to return to below the hole in the floor, and hope that they wolves had yet to traverse the area to find him. Geumsaegi moved down the hallways, making sure the cameras were still dead from the explosions taking out their electrical connections, and checking around corners to make sure there was nobody about to walk down the hall. It was difficult with the bodies on the ground, claws having scratched into the dirt as they breathed in too much of the surrounding smoke and traces of poison gas. His trek was abruptly halted by the discovery of the secretary and file storage room.
Perfect. There should be some information on emergency measures there, on where to keep prisoners if both the prison and Anti-Espionage facility were compromised. If I can find that document, then I should be able to figure out where they will be moving Dr. Dudeoji next, assuming he survived the gas and explosions.
Geumsaegi knew how to search quickly, having been taught to open filing cabinets from the bottom drawer first. The problem was the number of cabinets in the room. But, surely, the most important information would be in the locked cabinets, rather than the unlocked cabinets?
The locks were difficult. Doable, with the number of pins he had found in the cavern, but still doable. But also taking up far too much time. At least until a glint from the lights illuminated the key ring, with the keys numbered to each filing cabinet.
His hunch on the locked cabinets was proven correct. The layout for the Wolf Unit base, files on the numbers of current and available forces, detection equipment in each area, records on current available weaponry and what could be shipped in. Anyone with military experience could be able to extrapolate on how to create a war of attrition with this data, if they had the time. Quickly, he removed a small hidden box, taking out the microfilm camera that he had placed next to the listening bug he had used on the Chief of Staff’s table. While the filing cabinets contained information for every Wolf Unit base around the globe, he was only interested in the files for Flower Hill. That came first. Taking pictures of all of them would waste too much time, and other countries could probably send in their own scouts to get the same information, if they had any competent enough to do so. They were not his problem.
As he suspected, a smaller red cabinet held the emergency plans. Ignoring the medical and evacuation routes, he finally found the files on where important prisoners would be held if the anti-espionage facility was too demolished. Prisoners would be moved into the command center, and stored in some makeshift rooms, possibly closets close to Commander Seungnyangi’s office, with other, less important prisoners, to be executed immediately or stored in other closets on base if needed alive.
Can I get this microfilm to where I hid the others in time? Crashing from down the hallway answered no, as the first force of wolves were sent to inspect the torture rooms.
“Get these damn rocks off of me right now!” Behind the gas masks, the wolves paused in surprise, and then laughed at the relatively tiny liaison with his leg trapped under the rock. Yipping, they lifted the boulder with ease, electing to throw the debris down the corridor as far as they could, more boulders following suit in a form of unwarranted competition that threatened to destabilize some of the walls.
It had been tantamount to the Wolf Unit’s incompetency that led to them taking another two hours to finally make their way into what remained of the Anti-Espionage facility, long after Geusmaegi had used a makeshift fulcrum to trap his own leg to provide an alibi. If he had known, he might have stayed longer in the little alcove, striving to wake up and reunite with his companions. Although, under the circumstances, he was not surprised when the wolves grabbed him, climbing a rope back to the top of the hole. Nor was he surprised when he was promptly dropped on solid ground with the wolves surrounding him.
Now I have to explain myself to Commander Seungnyangi. What has Mulmangcho managed to tell him while I was gone? Even if the scouts were not found, it had been hours for them to possibly be alone, for the glasses wearing mouse to plead his case as he usually did to squirm his way out of danger.
A wolf’s eyes flashed blue with malicious mirth. “Commander Seungnyangi wants to see you.”
“Of course he would! Take me to him right this instant!” He snapped, then paused, coughing from the dust. Or at least he hoped it was the dust, considering he had discredited Dr. Huinjogjebi by surmising his brain was addled by breathing in poison gases. It could just as easily be turned onto him. The throbbing in his head increased.
His body was warm, almost uncomfortably so, and much of it was focused around his chest and throat area. Bamsaegi twitched, slightly, feeling as if he was coming out of an unnatural sleep, his head floating pleasantly and away from him. Had he been sick? Was that why he was so hot, and his lungs felt as if they were burning up and scratchy? The brown squirrel moved to paw at his face, fingers hitting an unknown barrier covering his nose and mouth. He moved to take it off.
Instantly, a hand stopped him, familiar, feathered. Bamsaegi opened his eyes in surprise, head latching itself back into reality, registering Murori hovering over him, wing partially gripping his throat to cut off any noise he might make. Undochi sat slumped across from him, head hanging as he breathed quietly, fingering a quill blade and Geumsaegi’s message as he drooled and foamed. Angry voices of wolves echoed from outside their hiding spot.
“There is no one in here after all! The mouse was lying!”
“Well, something had to have blown up the corridors!”
“The gas hit the boiler room, and the stuff was fallible, I hear.”
“That’s flammable, dumb-ass!”
Murori’s expression was clear. Stupid wolves. If the gas was that flammable, we would all have burned to death immediately. They could still see traces of it in the air.
They had to be quiet. All three of them were somewhat foaming at the mouth, sightly filling the lifesaving masks, but there did not appear to be any blood in the foam. Furthermore, they were no longer coughing or gagging, or making any noise that would attract attention even through the irritating yet pleasing pressure in the lungs. The gas also appeared to suppress the vocal cords. An opioid, maybe? That could explain the foaming and the cough suppression, as well as the fast recovery and dreamy sensation. But why would that be pumped into in a prison cell? Not that Bamsaegi could identify every poison, especially not in this environment. Whatever it had done to their lungs needed to get checked out at Unhasu, the commander center in Cherry Valley, as soon as possible.
Of course, Mulmangcho would know the codenames. That makes perfect sense. Next time, brother and I will have to come up with our own secret codes beforehand that no one else would know. He was immensely grateful that his brother had done what he could to help them out, after they had botched the mission with their own inexperience, causing him so much trouble.
Strangely, it was not hard to move. Maybe even a bit too fluid, too easy to sneak around the wolves wandering the halls. Together with the gas, the masks somewhat obscured the vision of the enemy, preventing them from seeing the smaller shadows in the dark, not that they were looking. But their own respirators and oxygen tanks also blocked their own vision, leveling the playing field. Once outside, they managed to hide behind some more debris in the shadows.
It was imperative to leave. The mission had been more or less a failure since the moment they had tried to entire the area using a smokescreen of clouds. There should still be some cut fences on the other end of the compound, near the headquarters. Undochi and Murori appeared to remember the area as well, glancing in the same direction and nodding, gesturing the ideas.
Slowly, bush by bush, rock by rock, the trio moved towards the other side of the compound, towards the exit, towards extraction. Once there, away from the bulk of the wolves and individuals searching for them, they could figure out how to continue to get back to Flower Hill without the use of their hang gliders.
The trio arrived too late, yet just in time to watch a wolf finish repairing the area, drawing a double layer of barbed wire across the previously opened hole. Time to find another way out.
A wolf turned in their direction.
The wolf soldier blinked, and then blinked again. He was not imagining it, not tired enough to make up the shining brightness in his eyes. There was something glinting in the patch of grass near the command center, throwing light into his eyes, and it should not be doing that. He stared, starting to crouch. The grass rustled.
He moved, sprinting on all fours to the offending area, barking a half alert, other wolves in the area pausing and glancing at him. The wolf pulled up, only to find a handful of oxygen tanks in the grass, clearly discarded by whatever soldiers decided they were far enough away from the flowing gas that they no longer needed specialty tanks. Then again, they did appear to be almost out of air in the tanks, making them worthless anyway.
But an absolute blast to try and crush against his head. Who the hell cared if the passing weasel muttered about wastefulness?
With the sudden mass of patrols, the lack of escape route, and all the wolves amassing outside, the Wolf Unit command center was the only place to escape to. They would still have to find a place to hide, escape the Wolf Unit compound entirely. In hindsight, the fact that Geumsaegi had left them with water gear suggested that he wanted them to leave through the river, not the cut fence at the other end of the compound. If the gas was affecting that part of their decision making, then they might be in more dire straits than they thought.
The first few hallways were empty as they tried to find an exit door that was not alarmed, or did not peek out into another group of wolves searching the compound. But their luck ran out, as large stomping footsteps came from all directions, cutting off escape from all but a few rooms.
The three nodded at each other, darting into one of the closer rooms, choosing to hide under a large desk.
The choice was incorrect, as several wolves immediately filed into the room and surrounded their hiding spot, muttering angrily.
Geumsaegi did not have to pretend to stagger as he slipped into Commander Seungnyangi’s office, enraged and panting wolf flanked on either side by the fawning Officer Yeou and stoic Assistant Jogjebi.
The wolves could not see, but from a squirrel’s height and line of vision, Bamsaegi, Undochi, and Murori had awakened and emerged from their sanctuary. They were underneath the desk, stiff in horror, Undochi pressed against the side of the desk to avoid pricking the occupants with his spines, but none of the taller occupants of the room appeared to take any notice.
What are you doing? I told you to leave! As long as he did not react to their presence, perhaps it would be fine. Maybe he could even slip them the roll of microfilm, somehow. But if Mulmangcho was free, and walked into the room, or any other mouse, they would be at the perfect height to also see the Flower Hill scouts. Or, if someone bent over, or coughed in the wrong direction. It was a tricky situation. Even if I tried to create a distraction, any movement in that direction would be noticed. How can I get this information to Bamsaegi?
Commander Seungnyangi sighed in desperation, leaning back to rest his leg before he had to go out back outside and yell at the disorganized and hunting wolves, the Unit’s nerves strung high from the day’s excitement and the occasional collapse from breathing in too much poisonous gas.
“Today has been quite a disaster.” The wolf stated calmly. Officer Yeou continued to rub his shoulders, attempting to relax her superior.
“And here we are sitting around? I know there are some pipes the lead between here and the Anti-Espionage facility! Did you manage to turn off the gas? What if too many of your men get poisoned? How will we meet up with the Weasel Unit and defeat Flower Hill then?” Geumsaegi slipped into his angry persona, voice slightly higher from the danger to his countrymen, so close but yet so far.
Officer Yeou appeared very uncomfortable, tugging at her tail and slightly looking to the side. “The gas will run out in a few hours, there is no way to shut it off without the remote, not without going in there physically to remove the canister. It should dissipate in a few days,” she finished with a huff.
“Why would you design a poisonous gas release that could only be controlled by remote, and then not even have a backup? And what happened to Dr. Dudeoji? Did Mulmangcho manage to rescue him?” No one had mentioned both glasses wearing individuals, which meant it was likely his own cover had not been blown.
The wolf commander’s head jerked up, eyes narrowing. Such an annoyance, having mice around, even if this one does have a spine. If I did not need him to get a hold of the Iron Crow, I would delight in reminding him of his place…He took a deep breath. “Mulmangcho and his brother could not carry our guest out on their own, so he will be moved into the third holding cell tomorrow.” If he asks where the third holding cell is, then it is likely the liaison is a scout for Flower Hill.
Geumsaegi paused. He may want me to ask where the next holding cell will be. But that would be too suspicious. Besides, I already know the protocol from the secretary’s office. Maybe I can lure everyone away from here using that. If he could not get the microfilm over to his brother, he would have to find another way, much later.
“I trust that you have a way to keep that place secure. Surely, Mulmangcho is getting desperate by now to complete his rescue mission.”
“Hrmm, we will see about that.” The wolf muttered. “And where have you been all this time?”
“Mousey here got stuck under a rock he could not lift off of himself!” The wolves began to cackle. Geumsaegi pretended to glare, keeping his foot off the ground as if it was bruised.
The fox vixen moved forward, brushing her fingertips over the top of his helmet. “Mayhap you would like to rest for a bit, especially after being hit over the head by a rock earlier?”
“I cannot rest just yet! Mulmangcho is still out there, waiting for another chance to strike in this chaos, and I am here to arrest them! can you think of anywhere he may have gone, anywhere he may be looking for a way to escape?” The disguised squirrel snarled.
One of the smarter wolves, a guard for the anti-espionage facility raised his tail slightly. “Sir…if you fell through the floor, did you land near the water passageway?”
Geumsaegi raised an eyebrow, paw moving under his chin in pretend thought. “It was dark, but maybe I did hear water…”
Commander Seungnyangi shook his head, “the passage is blocked, and the only way to open it is to hold down a button at the bottom of the channel. There are only four oxygen tanks there, and none of them would fit the mole.”
Good to know. Geumsaegi spared a glance downwards. Surely, Murori would be able to swim down and reach the button.
A cough was heard from the hallway. Geumsaegi spared a glance towards the hallway, briefly catching sight of a distraction outside the window.
“We need to go back, right now, and turn off of the gas.”
“Why are you so insistent on getting us to go back to the Anti-Espionage facility?” The wolf was excited, leaning forward slightly.
“…can you not smell that odor coming through the vents?” Geumsaegi turned, making towards the door. If I can lead them back to the facility, then the waterways will be a good way to escape.
The wolves in the room paused, sniffing. “Aren’t the pipes in that facility connected to here?” one asked, having clearly not listened to Geumsaegi’s explanation earlier.
“Do you not see the green gas COMING UP FROM THE VENTS?” he pointed, angrily at the window, wispy jade-colored smoke raising from a hole in a pipe leading into the building. Officer Yeou glanced down at the older wolf in confusion, tilting her head. The other wolves looked over, exclaiming over the rising gas, noticing the hues beginning to form in the hallways. Commander Seungnyangi appeared horrified, frozen in place.
There was a rush towards the door.
Through the gas masks, the group could see the wolves closer to the remains of the anti-espionage facility were having trouble. Barely able to stand if they were not also wearing masks, they staggered, giggling as if drunk. Others simply lay on the ground, looking at everything and nothing. Geumsaegi did not bother to move or call out for the few who stared directly towards the sun. Let them go blind, they deserve it.
One of the wolves tripped over a clump of grass, and then came to rest next to a bush. That’s suspicious…
The disguised squirrel moved, bending over the fallen wolf. Intoxicated. He looked up, noticing the other wolves near the wall, quickly taking turns opening the remains of the door and taking deep breaths. Are they getting some sort of narcotic high off of the gas? What kind is it?
Inside, as the group turned to move towards the torture room, Geumsaegi leaned over another wolf, inspecting it. Quietly, he handed over the microfilm to Bamsaegi, who then slipped in through the hole in the floor leading towards the river. “So close to the door, and he kneels over dead,” he muttered, just loudly enough for the wolves to hear.
“It inhibits brain function,” the fox said simply, attempting to move faster in her impractical skirt. The commander lagged behind, slower with his bad leg, not used to more strenuous mental and physical tasks.
As the other wolves stirred to assist in moving their fellow unconscious solders outside, the liaison, wolf commander, and officers reached the torture room. Removing a small key, Officer Yeou opened a compartment in the wall, and switched off a quarter full canister.
Geumsaegi sighed, standing at the entrance. Barring Mulmangcho’s interference, the stopping of the poison was as good a distraction as any for the scout trio to escape into the waterways.
Movement beside him, and the door to the cell slammed shut, trapping the three Wolf Unit leaders inside. Blind sighted, Mulmangcho tackled Geumsaegi, attempting to rip the mask off while preventing access to his own.
“Doing this in front of everybody in enemy territory!? Are you insane? Are you actually insane?” He yelled loud enough for the surprised occupants of the cell to hear. Undoubtedly, they had a key to unlock the cell from the inside. Going into such a place without one would be asinine, even for them.
“Yes! I have been insane ever since I first met you! You and fucking Flower Hill drive me fucking crazy! The whole word is crazy and I am insane enough to see it” The mouse bellowed, able to move slightly faster despite his partially obscured vision due to his familiarity with burrowing in dark areas.
The mouse lunged again, briefly pinning Geumsaegi to the ground and wrapping one hand around his neck, groping for a gun with the other.
“Get your traitorous hands off my pants!” It was his own mistake to not even bring a gun, after handing it back over earlier. Twisting on his back so that his shoulders braced against the ground, the squirrel managed to bend enough to kick his heels against Mulmangcho’s chest, forcing him away so he could rise to his feet. The mouse grabbed at the squirrel again, shoving him into the door, then pulling back to shove again.
The door to the cell opened as the wolf, fox, and weasel rushed out, mouse and squirrel falling in due to their momentum. The roundhouse punch to the cheek hit Geumsaegi by surprise, forcing him into the open compartment with the canister, gasping as his back hit a lever.
Officer Yeou yelled something, but the trapdoor had already opened, plunging the squirrel into the darkness below.
This works out perfectly! If I hurry, I can reunite with my brother to send him off! Oh, if I can meet with them again, I would be so glad!
He sprinted along the cavern, following the river, ignoring the growing pounding in his head. A few canisters of the poison gas floated past him, and the squirrel briefly paused to hide them behind some rocks, for later. The trio should be at the waterway by now, and if they were observant, would have found their dolphin submarine. All they had to do was push a button to open the gate.
Sadly, the reunion was not to be. Reaching the entrance of the waterway cavern, he saw the three scouts huddled in the dolphin submarine, attempting to find a way to hurriedly open the grates. In the distance, he could hear yelling as more wolves began to gather around into the cavern from the collapsed floor, a little way out of sight.
“Find the mouse liaison! The water should have carried him down that way!” Perfect timing for the enemy to actually be competent about finding him.
There was no time to look for another re-breather, if there was a secret spare other than the ones he had used. Geumsaegi managed to catch Undochi’s eye, waving before he jumped into the river, quickly swimming towards the bottom, ignoring the pounding in his head and ears. The button was not hard to find, attached to a type of water proof power strip, allowing him to press it. The grate opened, slowly. Too slowly. The dolphin submarine moved towards it, also unhurriedly.
The squirrel’s lungs began to ache, but the door was almost just wide enough to fit through. In an instant, a large rock broke the surface of the water, barreling towards Geumsaegi. He could move, but he would be forced to drop the button, perhaps allow the grate to close. That could not happen. That simply could not happen, not when they had the information that Flower Hill needed. He waited, boulder getting closer, grate slowly opening.
The underwater vehicle rushed through the opening and towards freedom, as the debris smashed into Geumsaegi. He managed to hold onto the button for a few seconds longer, before he was moved and slammed into an underwater ledge, forcing him to inhale.
Instantly, he swallowed, trying to move the mouthful of liquid out, and then coughed. No air, only more liquid, cold in the throat, turning to heat. A searing burn ripped through the squirrel’s lungs, sharp shocks splitting through his limbs as he tried to swim to the surface, to inhale. But he could not stop gasping, inhaling more water, weighing him down, depriving himself of the strength needed to surface.
His own limbs refused to move, leaving him drifting in the water, watching the grate quickly close. The agonizing burning in his chest subsided as he began to float, face upwards, limbs drifting above him. It was peaceful, in a way. His eyes began to burn instead.
Clearly, in his mind, as if experiencing it in the current time, he recalled one of the mission briefs he, Juldarami, Goseumdochi, and Murori had been put through before the start of the infiltration.
“We do wish for all of you to complete your missions smoothly.” Commander Goseumdochi explained. “However, there is always a chance that not all of you will return alive, and we would not be able to retrieve your body for a proper funeral. If you wish to back out, now is the time.” As if any of them would back out of striving to give their own lives for the sake of their beloved Flower Hill. The possibility of dying was just the way of life for a scout going into enemy territory. Giving their lives for the mission was a hero’s death.
“Sir! We will give our lives to the mission if we must!” They had said in unison, earning smiles and hugs from the commanders.
Still, during their missions, it had not stopped them from expressing their desires to return home alive, together, in defiance of the pact they had made. In the heat of battle or in more quiet, secluded areas, it was whispered, shouted, promised.
First, scout Goseumdochi had been lost, flying his plane into Bat Ilse to stop the ice cannons. It had been quick, hopefully nothing more than a brief searing across his body. The next had been Murori, also fast with an explosion, stopping an attack on home territory. Talk of including them among the local heroes celebrated in the Dano Dragon Boat festival in the spring had reached even his ears, albeit he knew that their reveal would have to wait until after the war. It would not do to reveal the existence of the concept of scouts to the enemy. They would have to remain anonymous for now.
But this slow fading was a mild annoyance, allowing him to think about his position, about how he could have done more.
A shame he would not get to see Juldarami again, but they had almost expected it when he went off alone this time, leaving the other squirrel in the hospital. Scouts were, after all, tools to protect their home of Flower Hill. A lightning rod to block the rest of the home from any danger.
My mission is complete, Unhasu. The information he had given Bamsaegi would result in the rescue of Dr. Dudeoji. Flower Hill would have enough of the codes and diagrams of the facility to properly infiltrate the base, come up with ways to destroy the army, and he had done his job well enough that the wolves had no idea.
Distantly, he wondered who would take over his position as scout. Bamsaegi, perhaps? He was a fine scout, and had learned a lot in such a short period of time. Juldarami, maybe, at least as backup. Either of them would know to kill Mulmangcho on sight if they saw him.
He was so proud of them all.
This is fine. I did my best to confound the enemies’ plans and have done my duty. I can rest now…I will leave the revenge on our enemies to my homeland…
Calmness.
A melancholy sense of peace, pressure building in his chest, forcing a few more futile gasps.
I…wait…what is…?
The golden squirrel and the brown hedgehog lay together under the magnolia tree, resting in the warm spring air. Scout Goseumdochi snuggled closer into the squirrel’s arms, then began to pull away. “It should not be time yet for us to reunite,” he whispered, as he vanished into the whirlwind of petals, which flashed as if forming a fiery explosion.
“Geumsaegi! You promised you would come back to me! We promised we would come back together!” Juldarami yelled, sprinting across the field towards his friend, clutching the messenger bag of Yul-lan chestnut cakes.
For a moment, Geumsaegi lay on the ground, paralyzed. Juldarami lifted the golden squirrel’s head, brushing his lips with the chestnut cake, begging him to take a bite. A sensation that felt so real, he could feel his own hand twitch, as if wanting to reach up. “Did we not promise to share our victories and these cakes together?”
“Geumsaegi!” Commander Darami yelled, “You have to get up!”
“You did your best. But you can still do more. Get up! You can do it!” Commander Goseumdochi, now.
Bamsaegi smiled and laughed at the picnic table in the meadow, former happiness returned, ready to embark on a journey with Dr. Dudeoji the next day. “You must hurry up! It is almost time to make dinner now!”
Happy visions of his friends and family surrounded him.
“Geumsaegi!”
“It is time to wake up!”
“Geumsaegi!”
"Brother!"
“SPECIAL AIDE!” Commander Jogjebi reached for him, cape billowing. “What are you doing? You need to take better care of your life!”
A sharp jolt ran through Geumsaegi’s body.