Chapter 380
2-in-1-chapter
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Over half an hour later, when Leo and Takemura arrived at the capital's military garrison, the situation was—as expected—complete chaos.
Upon hearing that the insurgents had already pushed into the capital, the soldiers first instinct hadn't been to organize resistance, nor to defend the city and push the enemy back.
Instead, their immediate reaction had been to flee.
Fights had broken out among them as they scrambled for the limited number of vehicles within the base.
As for the officers…
Government officers had always looked down on the rank-and-file soldiers, whom they considered filthy and beneath them. For that reason, they never lived in the barracks and instead stayed in luxury residences outside the base.
So now, with the base leaderless, no one stepped up to take command.
This was the scene Leo walked into.
"Where is your commanding officer?" Leo shouted.
No one responded.
A few glanced at him, and some even considered trying to seize his vehicle.
But before they could get close, Takemura Gorō put them down effortlessly.
Seeing the chaos intensify, Leo drew his revolver and fired several shots into the air—bang, bang, bang.
Words were useless. But gunfire—people always understood that.
As expected, the moment the shots rang out, the entire base, which had just been in utter disorder, fell quiet.
Many soldiers instinctively dropped to the ground or ducked behind cover.
It wasn't until they saw that Leo had fired the shots that they looked up in stunned silence.
Some of them recognized him.
After all, many had received training from Aurora PMC, and Leo's portrait was displayed prominently at the nearby training base just outside the capital.
Leo re-engaged the safety on his revolver and holstered it.
He asked again, "Where is your commanding officer?"
The soldiers looked at each other. Then, as if reaching the same conclusion all at once, they all turned their heads toward a tall, heavily built white man.
Following their gaze, Leo asked, "You're their commanding officer?"
The man shook his head. "No. Like I said, the officers don't live here. They've got places in the city. Unless there's a crisis or a presidential inspection, they don't bother coming to the garrison. As for now…"
He gave a bitter smile. "They've probably already left the city."
"Then who's the highest-ranking person among you?"
The man pointed to himself. "That would be me."
Leo glanced at the insignia on his shoulder.
Just a second lieutenant.
"What's your name?"
"Abbas."
"Alright, Second Lieutenant Abbas, I want you to immediately mobilize everyone and establish a defensive line in the eastern district."
The eastern district was the civilian zone.
The insurgent militia had entered from the west and were currently looting and pillaging their way through the western district—the wealthy quarter. That meant there was still time to set up defenses in the east and evacuate civilians.
As Leo gave instructions to Abbas, he used his tactical goggles to scan the base.
He estimated there were just over a thousand troops present.
It wasn't a large force, certainly.
But the insurgents who had rushed all the way to the capital couldn't have brought many troops either.
As the Minister of Defense had said, the enemy needed to consolidate the surrendered government troops from the frontlines. They couldn't have committed their full strength to this push.
No matter how brutal the insurgent militias were, they were still subject to basic logistical constraints. They were human—they needed food, they needed supplies.
Even if they pillaged along the way, they'd be limited by the capacity of the villages along their route. There was no guarantee those settlements had enough to sustain their force.
And besides, so many government soldiers had surrendered on the frontlines—what commander would be naïve enough to immediately arm those former enemies and send them into battle?
Not even the most brainless commander could come up with something that foolish.
So the main body of the insurgent army had to be staying behind, dealing with the surrendered forces.
Only a forward element had pushed into the capital.
That meant the thousand-plus government soldiers in the capital, if rallied and properly organized, didn't need to launch an offensive. Leo wasn't asking them to retake territory—he simply wanted them to establish defensive positions and hold the line.
That wasn't asking too much.
Especially since there was an Aurora PMC training facility not far from the capital. The personnel there could provide reinforcements.
With their support, Leo believed it was entirely possible to repel the insurgents' advance.
However, the soldiers remained still.
Even the second lieutenant, Abbas—after being directly addressed—didn't move.
"Sir," Abbas said, "you're not my superior officer. You don't have the authority to issue me commands. And even if one of my superiors were here, they've probably already fled the city by now."
"I understand your position. In fact, you're the most principled foreigner I've ever met. Even now, when the elite of this country have abandoned the capital and fled, you're still here thinking about leading us into battle."
"But there's no need to fight anymore. You should leave while you still can. If you stay and the rebels encircle the city, you won't make it out. They won't care whether you're part of the Bolivian government or not."
"So please, step aside, sir. We just want to go home now, take our families, and get as far away from here as we can."
The words of Lieutenant Abbas drew nods and murmurs of agreement from the other soldiers.
"Yeah, the President and all those elites ran first. Why should we be the ones left to fight?"
"This country's finished. There's nothing left to hope for."
"Let's just pray the rich districts hold out a little longer—buy us more time to escape."
"No worries there. The rebel dogs will be too distracted by all the luxury in the rich zones. They'll be too busy drooling over which mansion or stash to loot first."
"Honestly, all that stuff in the rich districts should've been ours in the first place—Bolivian people's property. It was stolen from us by those parasites, and now it's just falling into rebel hands. Thinking about it just makes your blood boil."
"But what can we do? We're the bottom rung. No matter where you are, the poor always get trampled. Doesn't matter if it's Bolivia or New America—it's still a world where the strong eat the weak."
The mood was bleak. Faces were downcast, and sighs filled the air.
Lieutenant Abbas also wore a grim expression. But everything the soldiers said was true. There was no point in refuting it, nor any ground to stand on.
He looked at Leo, who had remained silent the whole time, and repeated his question.
"Sir, if you're still here, is there something more you want to say?"
"The rebels have already entered the city. It won't be long before they reach this area. Even if the rich district is large, their commander isn't a fool—he won't let his men waste time looting."
"You don't have enough time to evacuate. Even if you escape the city, do you have enough vehicles to make it far? Do you have enough food and supplies to reach another country?"
"And if you do make it to a neighboring state, what are you going to live on—having left behind everything you've ever known?"
The soldiers fell into silence again.
In Night City, cars were everywhere. But here, not everyone had one. That's why, when Leo arrived earlier, they had been fighting over the few military vehicles that were still operational.
Without a vehicle, how far could anyone run on foot? And for how long?
Without supplies, even if they fled the city, how many days could they last?
And just like Leo said—they had lived here for decades, some for generations. You can't just leave and start over like switching tabs on a screen.
Lieutenant Abbas finally stepped forward.
"Sir, everything you said is true. We know that. But we don't have a choice. We don't want to abandon our homes, but what other option do we have?"
Leo shook his head.
"No. You do have another option."
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