My Beloved, Whom I Desire to Kill - 320

On what grounds should I entrust Giselle to you?

He was in a state where he would grovel to an enemy’s military doctor if it meant saving this woman, so begging a lunatic or a swindler for help wasn’t difficult. But it was unlikely this person had a trick up his sleeve that Edwin himself didn’t.

As if anticipating his suspicion, a scene instantly unfolded in his mind: the distant memory of this man, and Edwin’s own recent memory. The fragments that had been floating before his eyes clicked together into a single picture.

Take care of Giselle for me.

At that moment, for the first time, Edwin chose to trust the swindler, willingly entrusting him with the woman he loved, and even with himself.

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—Get lost, you worthless worms.

The military doctors and medics surrounding Colonel Eccleston flinched in unison.

They were accustomed to the outbursts of soldiers, even high-ranking officers, so this level of abuse was trivial. They simply couldn’t believe that the officer, who had been unfailingly courteous even in this critical life-and-death situation, had suddenly spat out vulgar curses in a harsh tone.

Unaware that the man had been replaced, they still felt the impression that the Colonel had become a different person and froze.

Ignoring his surroundings, he gently wrapped the blanket around the subordinate lying on the stretcher, then carefully slipped his arms underneath and slowly lifted her. His movements were cautious, as if carrying a fragile glass doll, yet his actions were resolute.

The female officer, who was still conscious, was not surprised that her superior had lifted her into his arms.

Are they lovers?

As the Colonel turned, holding the woman, the military doctors and medics stepped back. Mistaking the order to —get lost— as directed at them, they didn’t try to stop him, and the man walked out of the medical tent. The direction he headed was the field command tent.

—Escort me to the seaplane. Now.

No commander dared to question the orders of the Colonel, who had been trapped in this remote area all day due to their own shortcomings. While an escort was quickly assembled, the Colonel continued his demands:

Illuminating the entire lake with searchlights. A map showing the base’s location, latitude, and longitude, and the radio frequency used by the Air Force.

The military doctor, realizing what he was planning, rushed over and cautiously asked, —Do you know how to pilot a plane? And may we load the other urgent patients as well?

The Colonel truly seemed like a different person. The cold stare he tossed at them in annoyance lacked the former warmth that had encompassed everyone, not just himself. Just as the doctor anticipated a harsh refusal, the woman in his arms seemed to whisper something, and the Colonel announced his decision with a grudging sigh.

—Anyone who isn’t loaded by the time I finish pre-flight checks gets left behind. I don’t care if they die.

—That’s enough, sir! Thank you, Colonel!

Immediately, the ambulance carrying the seriously wounded, including the female officer, sped toward the dock by the lake. While the medics rushed to load and secure the patients in the seaplane’s cabin—warned by the Colonel’s words—the sole pilot here carried only the woman into the cockpit and closed the door.

There were two pilot seats. The man sat Giselle in the one with fewer gauges and buttons, handling her as carefully as when he picked her up, making sure the shrapnel wound and the bandaged, tourniquet-applied area didn’t touch anything.

Giselle’s confusion now was not due to delirium from blood loss.

—I tried to kill you.

—Do you only realize that now that you’re close to death? No, you must have known and done it anyway.

And you ‘knowing all that’ why are you doing this?

She grew even more confused.

—Yes, that’s right. But why are you trying to save me?

—Because I still love you.

Giselle felt a sense of déjà vu from the incomprehensible confession. It reminded her of a moment that was equally inexplicable, though for different reasons. The man, who had now securely fastened the seatbelt around Giselle, sat in the pilot’s seat across from her. It was then that Giselle began to realize the truth Edwin had hidden.

He pulled the map he had been intently studying in the ambulance out of his pocket, alternating his gaze between it and the water illuminated by the searchlights beyond the cockpit’s front window. Having determined his takeoff path, he put the map back in his pocket.

Afterward, he reached his hands all around the cockpit, pressing countless buttons and flipping switches and levers, the purpose of which Giselle couldn’t even guess. His hesitation-free attitude and expression blatantly displayed the confidence of a person who knew exactly what he was doing.

It was certainly not overconfidence. Soon, the propellers on both wings began to rotate.

BAM BAM.

Perhaps because the propeller noise was rapidly growing louder, someone from the cabin frantically banged on the cockpit door and shouted at the top of their lungs:

—Boarding complete! You are cleared for takeoff!

Around that time, Lorenz had also finished his pre-flight checks. With familiar dexterity, he donned a leather pilot’s helmet that had been tossed on top of the instrument panel. He put an identical one on Giselle, adjusting the mask straps to fit her head.

—You’re free to scream like a maniac or thrash around, but don’t touch your injury or anything in the cockpit. Don’t even try to jump out the window; you’re tied down, so you won’t be able to.

Lorenz’s words, which sounded somewhere between teasing and concerned, were accompanied by a crackling noise, yet they were as clear as if he were whispering into her ear. This was because they traveled from the transmitter in front of his mouth, through the radio beneath the instrument panel, and into the headphones attached to Giselle’s helmet.

The man checked her condition once more before facing forward and taking the controls. He stepped on the pedals, which looked no different from those in a car, and the plane cut through the water like a boat, leaving the dock and moving ahead.

The seaplane reached the center of the lake and turned its body to face the dam. The sky was still dark, but thanks to the searchlights, the top of the dam, rising far in the distance, was clearly visible.

The man brought the aircraft to a stop and pulled the large lever above his head all the way down. The propellers, which had been turning with a noticeable rattle, now spun with a swirling motion, starting to hum like an attacking swarm of bees.

Giselle watched Lorenz check the instrument panel overhead with a sense of nervousness, and he then tilted his gaze down toward her.

—You ended up on a plane you hate. Don’t you dare blame me later; I didn’t force you on here just to torment you.

Despite the sneering, he couldn’t hide the joy in his voice. It was clear from his eyes that he wasn’t happy about resolving old grievances.

His dark blue eyes, like the deep layers of the lake whose depths were inscrutable even with searchlights probing them, now appeared bright. They seemed to radiate their own light.

It wasn’t the familiar madness. It was an emotion rarely seen in Lorenz but a pure, almost trite excitement that was tiresome from seeing it in countless others: pride.

He had every reason to be excited. He had finally gotten the chance to show Giselle that he could do this, too.

However, his excitement wasn’t entirely solid; a weak insecurity was visible.

If I prove myself, but you still refuse to acknowledge me, what will become of me?

His eyes, which only lost focus when looking at Giselle, asked this question. He was like a child desperate for love from a mother who didn’t love him, willing to do anything but afraid to do anything because he knew he wasn’t loved.

Lorenz gently stroked Giselle’s cold cheek with his knuckles, so lightly that she could barely feel the pressure, then turned her head a little further forward, as if to tell her to watch closely. She could still clearly see the pilot, who was facing forward, gripping the control yoke, and whose Adam’s apple bobbed significantly.

Wooooooong.

The aircraft rumbled with engine noise and sped forward. What had been skimming the surface like a boat now transformed into a water bird taking flight; the nose began to lift. Giselle felt sick to her stomach.

This was the first time she had ever flown in a plane. Even though her feet were on a solid floor, the sensation of ascending into the air was so vivid that it felt as if she were being shot into the void in her bare body. If she had the strength, and weren’t dulled by the powerful pain medication, she would surely have thrashed around in terror.

The moment fear overpowered the high dose of painkiller descended swiftly, and unfortunately.

The dam was approaching. From far away, it had looked like a low lip, but as they got closer, it rose into a massive barrier. As dread reared its head, a question suddenly struck her.

Does this man know the water level is low because the sluice gates were opened?

At this angle, no matter how much the altitude was increasing, it felt like they would collide head-on with the dam wall.

Yet, even as the man clearly stared at the barrier rushing to obstruct their path, he didn’t raise the nose higher. Instead, he simply increased the engine thrust and plunged straight toward it.

Is he trying to kill us both?