[…Kzzzt, can you hear me? Kzzzt, Imperial side. If you can hear me, respond.]
A cold, high-handed woman’s voice, somehow familiar.
I instinctively pressed the communications switch.
“Is this the United Kingdom?”
[…Thank goodness you’re alive. Lieutenant Colonel Max Jaeger.]
Sydney recognized my voice at once.
Kzzzt—! Bang, bang, bang!
From the intermittent gunfire and shouts mixed in with the static, it seemed she, too, was being dragged through hell.
[Martial law has currently been declared across all of Londinium. The 1st Division of the Capital Defense Forces is scheduled to be deployed to suppress the rioters. Estimated time required: approximately thirty minutes.]
“Thirty minutes.”
I let out a dry laugh.
“In thirty minutes, the rioters will have more than enough time to set the embassy on fire and hang me from a rope. Aren’t you being a little too relaxed, Director?”
[Do not be sarcastic. We have no manpower to spare either, with the palace and the Foreign Ministry to defend. It is impossible for us to assist you, so until those thirty minutes are up, everyone must fend for themselves.]
‘Fend for themselves.’
I had never realized those words could be so cruel.
[In any case, I wish you good fortune.]
“Yes. Let’s meet again alive. Weren’t we supposed to see each other at the negotiating table tomorrow?”
[……By all means.]
Click.
With Sydney’s reply, the transmission cut off.
I rose from my seat again.
“Everyone, prepare for combat.”
The red dots were swarming in once more.
*
At the same time. The royal palace in the heart of Londinium.
Even as gunfire and screams embroidered the sky, Queen Charlotte strained to maintain her composure.
“You say the diplomatic envoys are safe.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Lieutenant Colonel Sterling reported. Under normal circumstances, Sydney, the Director of Intelligence, should have been present, but right now she was far too busy trying to contain the chaos to spare the time.
“Just now, we confirmed their survival by radio. They appear to be holding out at the Imperial ambassador’s residence.”
“Holding out…”
That they were still alive was a blessing amid misfortune.
But it was too early to feel relieved. The very fact that, in the middle of the capital, the life and death of foreign diplomatic envoys had become uncertain was in itself unacceptable.
“My apologies, Your Majesty. With only the current public security forces, it is proving difficult to bring the situation under control.”
How had the dignity of the United Kingdom fallen this far?
Charlotte’s eyes narrowed.
The Federation’s agents, drawn in by the scent of blood. And the foolish politicians in Parliament who had looked the other way and nurtured them under lofty pretexts like labor liberation and citizens’ rights.
All that complacency had piled up upon itself, and now Londinium had become one enormous powder keg.
‘How… am I supposed to contain this? Even if the Imperial envoys survive unharmed, we will not even be able to offer an excuse at tomorrow’s negotiating table.’
The initiative had been completely taken from them. In compensation for the damage suffered by the delegation, it was obvious the Empire would demand enormous concessions over the Santa Barbara colony.
‘……However.’
A crisis could instead become an opportunity. If there was something to lose, there was also something to gain.
If she turned her perspective not outward, but inward, the current situation took on an entirely different meaning.
At present, it was the ‘Citizen Labor Party’ that held sway over the United Kingdom’s political landscape. As the majority party in Parliament, they controlled the cabinet, cut the royal budget at every turn, restricted the power of the nobility, and brought the voices of workers into politics.
Then who were the ones causing a riot outside at this very moment? They were the core support base of the Citizen Labor Party: commoners and workers.
And if the fact that Federation agents had mingled among them and attempted to assassinate the diplomatic envoys of another nation were added on top of that—
‘Could there be any more perfect pretext for a purge?’
If this situation was handled well, the political life of the Citizen Labor Party would be over. The power of Parliament would naturally collapse, and the royal authority that had been lost would be revived in force.
“Lieutenant Colonel Sterling.”
Queen Charlotte turned. For the first time, a faint smile spread across her doll-like, expressionless face.
“…You said the Capital Defense Forces are coming.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. At the Director’s request and with the cabinet’s swift approval, they immediately began deployment procedures. Once they arrive, they should be able to suppress the rioters at once.”
“Excellent. Sydney chose a brilliant moment.”
At the queen’s praise, Sterling bowed his head as if he had no idea what she meant.
It was then.
Creeeak.
All at once, the door opened, and a middle-aged man appeared.
“Your Majesty, I trust you are in good health.”
The leader of the Citizen Labor Party and the de facto supreme authority. An irreverent commoner leader who stood at Charlotte’s political opposite.
The Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, Gallich.
“With Londinium burning, how could I be?”
Charlotte answered coldly. But this was an unprecedented situation no different from wartime. Sitting face-to-face with that irreverent prime minister was unpleasant, but without cooperation between the cabinet and the royal family, resolving the situation was impossible. A meeting between the two of them was a political inevitability.
“……My apologies. Given the state of affairs.”
Prime Minister Gallich seemed aware of that as well, and politely bowed his head. Even as he apologized, he did not look flustered in the slightest.
“Fortunately, I am told the Capital Defense Forces have completed preparations for deployment. It will soon be suppressed.”
Charlotte nodded silently. The Capital Defense Forces’ boots crushing the riot was already a foregone conclusion. What mattered was the next agenda item.
Who would bear responsibility for this situation? It had to be not Charlotte’s royal family, but Prime Minister Gallich’s Citizen Labor Party.
“…Prime Minister. It is regrettable that the Intelligence Bureau failed to detect this incident in advance, but we shall determine where responsibility lies after the situation has been pacified. Director Wellesley is currently struggling at the scene, after all.”
Charlotte fixed her gaze on Gallich’s lips. How would this slippery man respond?
“Of course, Your Majesty. For now, overcoming this national crisis must take precedence above all else, must it not?”
“……”
Charlotte was, for a moment, at a loss for words. His ready acceptance was, in truth, unexpected. A man who normally would have frothed at the mouth and torn into a royal agency was backing down this meekly?
A sense of dissonance crept up her spine.
Charlotte once again scrutinized Prime Minister Gallich.
Not a single bead of sweat. Not so much as a crease out of place in his attire.
A man in a state close to perfection.
This was a man who opposed Charlotte’s every move, who insisted that the sovereignty of the state belonged not to bloodlines, but to the people. Why was he so cooperative today?
Once this riot was suppressed, the Citizen Labor Party would inevitably suffer a fatal blow. There was no way Gallich did not know that. For the situation to be resolved smoothly like this should have been the scenario he least desired.
Far from being anxious, he even seemed somehow relaxed.
‘Don’t tell me……’
At that moment, the office door opened, and the prime minister’s secretary entered.
He whispered something into Gallich’s ear.
“Ah, Your Majesty. Good news.”
After receiving the report, an indelible smile spread across Gallich’s face.
“They say the 1st Division of the Capital Defense Forces has just arrived.”
*
In the middle of a city street reeking of smoke and blood, at the barricade controlled by Sydney’s Royal Intelligence Bureau.
Shwooo—! Slice!
With a sharp sound of air being cut, a silver wire carved through the air.
“Graaaagh!”
The wrist of a rioter trying to climb over the barricade with a torch in hand flew into the air.
Toward the man screaming as he was drenched in blood, Sydney Wellesley mercilessly pulled the trigger of her pistol.
Bang!
The man fell backward, his brow pierced through.
“Director! The right defense line is being pushed back! We’re low on ammunition!”
Her adjutant’s desperate voice rang out.
“I’m coming!”
Sydney dropped the empty magazine to the ground and pulled a fresh one from inside her coat, loading it.
Clack.
The hem of her coat had long since become a mess of dark red blood and soot. Her blond hair, which had been neatly pinned up, was soaked with sweat and stuck to her cheeks.
‘This is a clear blunder.’
Sydney thought as she ran to join them.
The scale of the riot had far exceeded the Intelligence Bureau’s predictions.
Whether there was a traitor inside or not, the Federation agents were running rampant through Londinium like cockroaches that had laid eggs. As a result of them stirring up the slums, the entire city had exploded like one giant powder keg.
‘The traitor…… is it in the police? No, perhaps even the judiciary and legislature are involved.’
Either way, once this riot ended, a bloody storm would blow through the United Kingdom. And Sydney herself would have to stand at the vanguard of that purge. For the United Kingdom, and for Her Majesty Queen Charlotte.
Bang—! Bang!
Sydney arrived at the right defense line and fired without hesitation. Every time her pistol spat flame, another rioter died.
‘…The time now is.’
Even so, Sydney checked her wristwatch whenever she found an opening.
‘…It’s almost been thirty minutes.’
A faint smile of relief spread across Sydney’s lips. There was only one reason she and the Intelligence Bureau agents had been able to endure this hellish defensive battle until now.
The 1st Division of the Capital Defense Forces, ordered to deploy along with the declaration of martial law. As long as they arrived, these ragtag rioters would be swept away like fallen leaves in an autumn wind.
Rumble—!
It was then.
From the end of the road came the heavy growl of engines and vibrations that shook the ground.
“Director! It’s the Defense Forces! The 1st Division has arrived!”
One of the Intelligence Bureau agents burst into a cheer.
Beyond the gaslight, the United Kingdom Army’s dark green armored vehicles and infantry in crisp formation appeared.
‘It’s over.’
Now the barrels of those brutish tanks would spit fire at the rioters, and the infantry would mercilessly trample the rebels. Sydney straightened the battle line and prepared to step out beyond the barricade.
But then.
“Uh…?”
A bewildered groan slipped from the mouth of an agent watching the situation through a gap in the barricade.
Sydney, too, felt something was wrong.
The direction in which the armored vehicles’ turrets were turning with a mechanical whir was not toward the streets where the rioters were gathered.
Clack.
The muzzles of the heavy machine gunners aboard the armored vehicles, and the rifles of the 1st Division infantry following behind them, all aimed at one place at once.
The very barricade the Intelligence Bureau and military police had been risking their lives to defend.