Black-Haired Internal Revenue Service SWAT Agent - Chapter 248



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Wait a minute

“Hey, Jim!”

I rang the doorbell at Team Leader Dawson’s house but got no response, so I called him as I walked down the side street of the house.

Since I know that these gentlemen keep guns at home, I have to make sure to make a loud noise to make it clear that I am here.

Otherwise, I’d be mistaken for a thief or a robber and end up with a 9mm or .40 caliber pistol bullet in my body.

“Hey! Jim! It’s Taeshik, Taeshik!”

I called him once more, louder, from the iron gate leading to the backyard.

Only then is Dawson’s voice heard from the backyard.

“Backyard, Kim! That door is open, just push it open and come in!”

On the iron gate was a warning sign written in red paint by that gentleman, and the message was exactly like that guy.

‘Warning! If you trespass, you will be shot. I clearly warned you!’

The content is full of impact, as if it was written after a drink.

I carefully pushed open the door and entered the backyard, carrying my six-pack.

Although it was an old single-story house, the entire backyard was covered with well-maintained grass.

In the middle of it all, there was an antique table and a few chairs that you would normally find in a kitchen, and Dawson was sitting there.

“Hey, Kim!”

Dawson greeted me, holding a beer bottle in one hand and raising the other.

Judging by the huge pile of empty beer bottles under the table, it looks like they’ve been drinking since morning.

I answered him while looking around the entire backyard.

“Damn, isn’t it a little cold outside to be drinking in the afternoon sun?”

December in Chicago is colder than December in South Korea.

Today, the temperature in Chicago is hovering around 1 degree Celsius, and I’m sitting here in the backyard.

Dawson responds by pushing the chair opposite him forward with one foot.

“Oh, yeah. It’s a little cold, but it’s too stuffy to drink inside, so I’m getting some fresh air.”

I put the can of beer down on the table and sat down on the chair he pushed for me.

Damn, it’s so cold on the chair, I don’t even want to put my butt on it.

As I hesitated and finally sat down on the chair, he smiled brightly.

And then he makes a strange sound with his mouth.

“Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!”

Every time he makes that sound with his mouth, a torrent of breath comes out.

It’s so fucking cold, why on earth am I standing here like this?

And that too without being of sound mind.

Still, it seems a bit odd to see Dawson at home, drunk and tipsy, after all that time he’s been swatting away at the IRS SWAT.

How much did this heavy drinker, who doesn’t get drunk no matter how much he drinks, drink to become like this?

There must have been something else he drank besides the empty beer bottles under the table.

I put the six-pack I had left on the table down and pushed him a hot latte with two extra shots.

“Come on, let’s talk, Jim.”

He put down his beer bottle at my words.

It looked like he was going to listen to me, but he was making that weird sound with his mouth again.

“Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump!”

I frowned and spoke to him again.

“Come on, Jim! Let’s talk.”

Then Dawson straightens his posture and speaks to me.

“Sorry, Kim! Sorry! So what did you come here to talk about? I won’t be going out for a while, so why don’t you just stay home and rest a bit more.”

I said, handing him the coffee cup again.

“I met Director Coulson this morning.”

From then on, without saying anything else, Dawson seemed to know what I wanted to say.

“Hoooooooo!”

Dawson lets out a long sigh, his breath almost like cigarette smoke, and then speaks.

“I feel sorry for Kim and the other members, but I think it’s time for me to really let it all go. I’ve thought about it many times before Big Rock, but I think Big Rock has made up my mind.”

“But… how can you just suddenly quit like this without saying anything? Weren’t we friends? At least you should talk to your friends properly.”

Dawson smiles at my words and says,

But instead of speaking, he makes that strange sound with his mouth.

“Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump!”

After making that noise, he tried to drink his beer again, so I quickly got up and snatched the beer bottle from him.

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Is this guy really that drunk?

As I look at him and frown, he raises both his hands and says.

“Okay, okay, Kim.”

After that, we just stared at each other in silence for a while.

I pushed the coffee cup towards him again.

Then, Dawson reluctantly picked up the coffee cup and took a long sip of his latte.

The coffee was still warm, but Dawson held the takeout cup with both hands, perhaps because his hands were cold.

And then, like a mannequin, it doesn’t move, and only makes a hissing sound.

Did about 2 or 3 minutes pass like that?

Dawson finally opened his mouth again.

“Do you know what I just said, Kim?”

As I shake my head, he fiddles with his coffee cup with both hands and says,

“25mm ‘Bushmaster Chain Gun’!”

“yes?”

“That’s the sound made by the Bushmaster 25mm gun mounted on our United States Army’s Bradley armored vehicle when it fires an armor-piercing round.”

I listened to him without making a sound.

“The shit at ‘Fucking’ Big Rock brought back nightmares I had forgotten about, and now it’s out of control.”

“What nightmare are you talking about, Jim?”

Dawson says, staring at the table as if there is something on it.

“You know, the Taliban prison camp in Afghanistan? Our Devguru and SAS teams that took the HVTs away after a riot at the camp, and they had to suffer for two days.”

“Yes, I talked about it with Preston before~.”

“Thanks to our two-day holdout, the 101st Division (101st Airborne Division) finally arrived at the camp and surrounded the entire camp. Then, together with the Afghan government forces, we conducted an internal cleanup operation and were able to regain control of the camp in half a day. But….

Dawson looked at the bottle of beer I was holding, and I raised my hand to say no.

Then, the old man drank all the coffee he was holding.

His flashbacks continue again.

“However, the leaders of the riots, high-ranking Al Qaeda and Taliban leaders, began to hide and hold out inside the government headquarters building that was guarding the camp. It was a place where concrete walls were built on the cliff behind the camp, so it was like a last bastion where the enemy could hold out without worrying about the rear.”

In Dawson’s calm voice, I saw Team Leader Decker, who used to reveal his secrets.

It seemed like these old men, who had been visiting battlefields all over the world for a long time, each had a few of their own hidden and heavy secrets.

“The 20 or so enemies who held out there had already harmed dozens of our own soldiers, so the 101st Division’s Armored Combat Team had no intention of showing them mercy. The 101st Division’s men drove Bradley armored vehicles and began mercilessly firing their 25mm Bushmaster guns at the building where the enemies were hiding. When five or six Bradleys focused their fire on a two-story building, the walls were torn apart like biscuits and collapsed. And the Taliban and Al Qaeda guys who appeared in between and returned fire were torn to pieces by 25mm shells, sending blood and flesh flying into the air.”

I mouthed “Shhh!” without making a sound.

However, Dawson shook his head and raised his finger as if to say that it was just the beginning.

“Damn, that wasn’t the end, Kim! For the next five hours, we took turns firing Bradleys with their overheated barrels into their hideouts. The outer wall of that damn building collapsed, revealing an internal passageway that led into the rocky cliffside below. The 25mm shells kept blasting away at the rocky wall, like they were hammering a hammer. But the more they did that, the deeper they went into the caverns they’d dug into the rock wall. Damn! After a whole day of that shit, even we who were watching thought we were going crazy.”

“More than a day?”

“Oh! The Bushmaster gun fire that started in the morning continued until the next morning. The 101st Division guys didn’t back down either, they kept on biting and biting. They must have fired hundreds of rounds that day. We and the SAS guys had to face all that chaos with the order to identify or kill the 12 HVT guys who had led the riot. It was our job to collect the pieces of the bodies that had fallen to pieces from the Bushmaster gun fire and identify them.”

Just hearing it makes me wonder if it really happened on the planet I live on.

As I look at him with an expression of astonishment, he sighs and says.

“While I was going through the prison cells at Big Rock rescuing hostages, I started hearing that damn Bushmaster gun firing in my ears. I tried to consciously shake it off, but after our Bearcat got thrown out of the driveway and rolled down the road, the sound just wouldn’t leave my ears for the rest of the day.”

After saying that, he suddenly shut his mouth and grimaced, as if trying to suppress his emotions that were about to explode.

Then, as if he was feeling a little better, he opened his mouth again and made that sound again.

“Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump!”

Now, when I hear that sound, I find myself nodding my head.

“Fuck, Kim! I can’t stop hearing that sound, and then I start seeing those corpses from decades ago, where I’d pieced together the puzzle pieces and finally completed them, so vividly, like I saw them ten minutes ago. It happens when I’m driving, when I’m eating, when I’m trying to sleep. It even happens when I’m watching the football game on TV during the commercial break for Nestlé’s ‘Perky’ cereal.”

Dawson said that and smiled.

But then, a teardrop came out of the corner of his smiling eye and quickly ran down his cheek.

Dawson nodded to himself, then quickly wiped the tears from his eyes with his sleeve.

Then he looks at me and speaks.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell Kim first. But I think this is it. I really think this is it.”

Dawson says that and then suddenly bursts into tears.

A large, distracted man in his mid-40s was crying sadly right in front of me like a little kid who had been scolded by an adult.

I too was shocked by this sudden sight.

I’ve never been intimidated by bullets of all calibers and crazy people of all types flying at me…

One of the people I believed to be the strongest in the world was crying right in front of me, like he was the weakest person in the world.

Jim Dawson, a retired Navy sergeant major who had a gruff voice, who would swear at anyone who got in his way, and who considered bar fights a SEAL specialty, was crying like a five or six-year-old girl.

And, damn it, tears started to flow from my eyes without me knowing what to do when I saw that sight.

I had a thought that maybe the Dawson I was watching now was my future self.

As soon as that thought occurred to me, tears began to overflow from my eyes uncontrollably.

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