My Beloved, Whom I Desire to Kill - 312

—I’m the only one who knows the inside of the dam well, so I’ve agreed to go and assist on-site.

As her worst fears were confirmed, Giselle let out the fury she had been tightly suppressing, clenching her teeth.

—Just explaining it is enough!

—It’s more accurate and faster for the person who has been there to guide them.

If he went back, his memories would become even more vivid. Perhaps he could recall crucial information on-site that he couldn’t remember now. In a desperate crisis where they couldn’t afford to waste manpower and time, wasn’t it such minor support that often determined success or failure?

He took off his tie, hung it on the chair with his jacket, and looked up to find Giselle’s face flushed crimson. He couldn’t tell whether she was about to erupt in rage or tears first.

—Don’t worry. A Colonel won’t be sent into combat.

The word ‘guide’ seemed to have caused a misunderstanding. He patted the shoulder of the woman who was clearly imagining him leaping into a hail of bullets.

—My entire mission is simply to wait quietly at the rear while the combat unit retakes the dam, and then enter the secured interior and come back out.

Since this was a critical point both sides were fighting for tooth and nail, there was a chance he could get caught in a fierce battle or an unpredictable situation. But for a commander leading thousands of soldiers, avoiding danger was not an option.

Of course, he didn’t say any of that. It would only add fuel to Giselle’s anxiety. Even now, she was watching him peel off his shirt with suspicious eyes.

—I’ll go too. I remember the inside of that dam. We used to play hide-and-seek there all the time, remember how good I was at hiding?

—Then explain how to close the floodgates.

—…….

—Lieutenant Bishop has a separate mission.

His frivolous instructions were delivered as if they were vital duties: wait here until he returns, receive calls from headquarters, and report to the intelligence department if any issues arose. As he buttoned up his combat shirt, a pair of silver dog tags shook precariously at his neck.

In the secure rear area of Richmond, it was rare to wear dog tags around one’s neck even while on duty. He had told Giselle to wear hers in preparation for any emergency, given their proximity to the front line, but now it was he who needed his.

The sight of them reminded her of the moment he first explained their meaning.

—If I die, you take one of these tags and run to a safe place.

She wanted to burst into tears today, just like she had that day.

If I cry, will he change his mind?

Why hadn’t she ever tried such a trick before? She wouldn’t know if it would work unless she tried. If it worked, what was the big deal about crying? She could even pretend to be dying right now.

She was engrossed in this pathetic internal conflict, glaring at the desk in front of her, which was now empty save for the neatly folded combat uniform. Suddenly, a thick thumb appeared and gently wiped away her tears.

She had started crying before she even decided whether to play the trick.

It was only then that she realized she hadn’t wanted him to see her weak, crying face. She turned her head, but Edwin knelt and enveloped her in a hug. This man’s embrace always melted Giselle with its comfort, but today, the rough texture of the combat uniform only made her body stiffen.

—Giselle, nothing will happen, truly. You know I’m not the kind of irresponsible man who would die right after getting engaged.

—Do people who die on the battlefield die because they’re irresponsible?

Edwin muttered, letting out a sigh, saying that wasn’t what he meant.

—I survived the Swan Lake Incident even with you in tow. I kept my promise to return during the last war, too. Didn’t I? Trust me, Giselle.

She knew he was a capable man, but knowing that had never once made her feel safe about his life.

—Promise me you won’t do anything dangerous and that you’ll come back safe.

—I promise. You promise too, that you’ll quietly carry out your duty here.

Such vows had no binding power or transcendental force. Yet, they made meaningless promises, knowing it. They were desperate to borrow the luck of the past, as they had made such a promise every time he had returned alive.

Hoping another superstition would protect him, she rolled up his sleeve to check with her own eyes that the four-leaf clover tattoo on his forearm was clearly visible.

That amount of luck was woefully insufficient. She tried to take off the four-leaf clover necklace from her own neck to give to him, but Edwin vehemently refused.

—This is the luck that keeps you safe.

He asked her for a lucky kiss instead, cupping her face and stealing her lips.

—Save your anger for tonight’s insubordination.

He was confident that today would pass just like any other day and end in each other’s arms. How could he be? Giselle couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that she might receive only one of his dog tags, not Edwin himself.

As she watched the back of the man who casually tossed a light joke and headed to the battlefield as if it were a minor daily task, unable to blink, a sudden premonition came to her like a revelation.

The words —I love you— I must say them now.

Giselle resisted, clamping her lips shut instead of following her instinct. She didn’t want to believe it.

He will surely return, if only to hear those words.

Please, God, let me be able to say I love him.

Giselle clasped her hands and prayed, just as she always did when Edwin went off to war.

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All day long, Giselle frequented the operations room, striving not to miss any communication coming from the field.

In the morning, the troops were delayed from entering the dam because they had to locate and clear mines the enemy had laid on the approach road. Clearance was only completed around noon, after enemy snipers were neutralized with air support, and the frightened enemy forces entrenched themselves inside the dam.

It was around 15:00 when the special operations unit, which had coincidentally been stationed at the base for Operation Horizon, was deployed, finally succeeding in retaking the dam—an effort akin to a siege.

Upon hearing the bloodcurdling report that some casualties had occurred during the entry into the dam, Giselle prayed.

Please, let Edwin Eccleston not be on that list.

She desperately hoped that, true to his word of merely being a guide, he had safely waited behind the lines while the fighting raged.

The enemy tried to fulfill their mission until the very end. They had sabotaged the electrical facilities of the sluice gate opening mechanism.

Because of this, it was nearing 17:00 by the time all ten floodgates were closed manually.

In the operations room, people cheered and applauded the success of the operation when the news of the closed floodgates arrived, but Giselle could not smile at all. There was nothing to celebrate until Edwin returned to her safely.

She waited for news that unnecessary personnel were withdrawing from the dam defense, but instead of good news, bad tidings arrived.

—They say enemy air raids and paratrooper drops have begun.

Constanza had immediately deployed forces to retake the dam. She knew, without confirmation, that a fierce engagement to intercept the enemy airborne unit was underway.

After that, communication was cut for about an hour. Communication only came through when an emergency was resolved or when urgent support was needed. Giselle’s heart pounded with fear as she imagined the reason for the long silence from the bullet-riddled battlefield, dreading the worst-case scenario.

Communication was eventually re-established, but they did not hear the good news that the situation was over. It was an urgent request for more support.

The personnel who had already entered the dam were inside, defending from the interior after closing the gates, while the external forces were struggling to stop the enemy, who seemed intent on planting bombs on the dam.

At the mention of the enemy trying to destroy the dam, Giselle paled, thinking of Edwin trapped inside. She could no longer bear the agony of waiting for bad news from a distance.

First Lieutenant Giselle Bishop of the Intelligence Corps hitched a ride on a transport vehicle of the anti-aircraft unit being deployed for support and headed towards the Birkenbach Dam. Of course, since she couldn’t enter the dam, she went to the nearby field headquarters.

—I am First Lieutenant Giselle Bishop of the Army Intelligence Corps. Our Chief of Intelligence entered the dam this afternoon.

As soon as she arrived, she asked about the situation, which she couldn’t grasp during the two hours of travel.

—Do you know anything about the whereabouts or current condition of Colonel Edwin Eccleston?

No, it would be more accurate to say she asked about Edwin’s location and whether he was alive or dead first.

She wished that he had safely pulled out long ago and that they had simply missed each other, but such luck did not happen. No one who had entered the dam had been able to withdraw.

She wanted to know the internal situation, but there was no communication, perhaps because the enemy-damaged communication lines had not yet been restored. Knowing his location but not his safety was maddening.