Chapter 103: A Threat Too Grave

Bureaucracy… It was among the most necessary functions of any civilization. A boon that gifted civility in the grim darkness of the universe.

And at the flip of a coin, a cancer so all consuming it would destroy everything in its path if one did not have the will to control it.

The Union of Columbia was in the latter category long before the first snow fell. And if there was one good thing about an apocalyptic situation, it had the exceptional ability to thin the herd of its weakest members without mankind itself bearing the sins of doing so.

Colonel Nathaniel Cross had found that despite the fact that the Army had lost the majority of its personnel, heavy weaponry, and leadership. It as a unit of function had never been more efficient.

And yet… somehow… the long winter had yet to fully freeze off all the rot. He was a ranger colonel, not some desk jockey. And yet, due to the severe lack in manpower, he now found himself stuck underground, monitoring the armed component of one of the many Remnant forward outposts.

The egg-heads in Washington, or what remained of its structure buried beneath the city and the snow that had swallowed it, had said that building such a subterranean complex was necessary to keep an eye on the line they identified as the inhabitable zone.

The only problem being, as the months went by, people continued flee south from the habitable zone. Every time Nathaniel reported this, he was told to stand-bye, wait for further orders, and was eventually fed some gobbledygook about the storm not reaching its worst state yet, and thus explaining why survivors kept trickling down.

And yet, the temperature had remained constant for nearly two months now. The recent encounter his scouts had with an unusually large and well equipped raider force only confirmed what Nathaniel feared.

Whether it was the remnants of Laurentia marching south, or some third party building a new state, something was happening, someone was pushing men who appeared to be the criminally minded out.

Today, Nathan wasn’t riding his desk, he was standing in the brig, outside the bars looking at a recently captured prisoner.

The man was disheveled and was one of many recent captures that had been interrogated for information. All had given the same information, and Nathan wanted to confirm it once more.

He stood in a field uniform, with a tan beret on his head, looking down at the prisoner with a stern expression. His voice was even more severe.

“Now.. Let’s go over this one more time… Your friends said that you were all a part of a federation of rogue actors like yourself, and that you broke ranks and fled after you leader committed to a suicide mission, following someone named Jack south? Is that correct?”

The rogue didn’t stir, he had been far less compliant than the others, but this did not break Nathan’s spirit, instead he picked up his phone and tapped the file that opened his photographs.

There he presented a photo taken from the scouts the night they had cut the throats of Jack and his men. It was Jack’s dead body, lying face up in the snow, his throat gored and blood soiling his the white powder around him.

“Is this Jack?”

The bandit, who had been nothing but uncooperative until this moment broke out into fear and anxiety as he saw Jack’s lifeless body in snow.

“Oh, shit, man! You fucking got jack! What the fuck, man? Why won’t you fuckers leave us alone?”

It had been a similar theme with the others. They had all mistaken the Union of Columbia’s Army personnel for someone else. Whether it was the use of advanced weaponry, the coordinated tactics, or the winter camouflage coveralls.

Something had tricked them into thinking they were someone else, and that is what worried Nathan the most. He sighed and rubbed his thumb and index finger over the brow of his nose between his eyes, before shaking his head.

“Whoever you saw up north, we’re not them… We’re the UC Army…. And the country is officially under marshal law. You, citizen, are in violation of at last half a dozen laws that I can think of off the top of my head, and two dozen other statutes since Marshal Law was enacted. If you don’t want to spend the rest of your life in the brig, you will tell me what you know about these men you think we are.”

The bandit looked genuinely confused as he looked at what Nathan was wearing ,as well as the heavy military grade equipment, as the men next to him. He hadn’t even particularly noticed the Union of Columbia army patches and flags, or was incapable of distinguishing them from the ghosts in the snow that had haunted him and his comrades up until this point.

They operated so similarly that he had just assumed they were the same people. When he realized he was dealing with a group that claimed to be the old world government, he was astounded, but also bewildered, his voice slightly cracking as he dared to ask the question.

“You mean… you’re not with Paradise Falls?”

Paradise Falls? The name sounded…. Strange to Nathan, who looked over at his aid standing next to him.

“Paradise Falls, do we have any intel on any communities going by that name?”

She reached towards her tablet and began scrolling through a list of survival communities that they were aware of, and their threat ratings determined by central command. But she could not find the name, ultimately shaking her head.

“No, sir, in fact, if these men mistook us for them, it’s highly likely they’re a tier above any potential threats we have come across so far. I’m not sure how that is remotely possible. It might be a cover identity for the Laurentians… Or.”

Nathan shook his head and returned his focus to the bandit, while still addressing his subordinate.

“No… Central Command continues to deny that anything above the Habitable is capable of surviving long outside of a bunker complex. If the Laurentians are hiding somewhere beneath the snow, then they likely can only sustain small excursions into their own borders. It shouldn’t be possible for them to project force into ours.”

The subordinate muttered something under her breath that did not go unnoticed by Nathan.

“And yet…”

She didn’t finish. She didn’t need to, evidence to the contrary was staring them directly in the face. Nathan sighed and shook his head once more before shifting his focus back to the bandit.

“You’re going to tell me everything you know about this Paradise Falls, and this little federation of yours.”

—

The interrogation didn’t last long. The prisoners were all too eager to spill the beans, examined one by one in isolation their stories did not waver enough to arouse suspicion of deceit.

One thing was universal. A group of highly trained, heavily armed men, who favored the use of drones existed, at least according to rumor in an old residential neighborhood named Paradise Falls. Which lies north of the habitable zone by a few hundred kilometers.

Nathan looked over the after interrogation report and the cross examination. To put it simply, this was more than enough information given to support the idea that semi-complex ecosystems of survival communities had survived well beyond the ranges that scientists had theorized were even possible.

With this, he could finally get central command to approve a reconnaissance expedition north. With a threat of this classification, even the eggheads wouldn’t be able to convince central command to continue sitting on their asses.

Nathan sighed as he poured himself another bottle of distilled spirits. It tasted like rotgut, and was barely safe enough to drink.

But it was the best their outpost could produce on its own, considering they were lacking a viable chemist.

He shook his head and sighed after stashing the bottle away. Returning his attention to the report.

“Paradise Falls… A residential neighborhood turned power broker far north of the habitable zone’s borders. Said to possess military grade hardware, quadcopters and FPV drones, and have utilized advanced asymmetric tactics to overcome a coalition of several hundred rival rogue actors.”

He lifted his glass and took another sip, sneering in disgust before placing the glass down and returning to the document, reading its contents aloud once more.

“The survivors of those rivals have fled south and into our custody, those who remained behind are believed to be dead. Meaning that this Paradise Falls now possesses the keys to regional superiority…..”

Nathan placed the document down and folded his fingers in contemplation. His gaze focused on no particular point as he sifted through his thoughts.

If central command continues to refuse granting authority to mount a reconnaissance expedition. I will have no choice but to act against orders. This paradise falls is a threat too grave not to properly monitor…..

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