State of Alliance

His words hang awkwardly in the air. To my left, they are moving the lifeless bodies of Nathanial Mero and Ken Thrawn off the podium. There are still fresh streaks of blood on the ground from their wounds. I feel like crying, but the tears won’t come.

“How many people are dead?” I ask Chris.

He folds his arms across his chest.

“At least nine,” he answers, low. “It could have been worse, but it never should have happened in the first place.”

“I’m begi

“You’re not far off,” Devin comments.

I look down at my shirt, covered with Nathanial’s blood. Droplets are still caked to my hands. I shudder and look over the Pacific Ocean.

It doesn’t matter where we are.

Omega always finds us.

Chapter Nine

It’s early. I slip out of my hotel room and shut the door behind me, clicking the lock into place. I check my weapon, my extra magazines, my knife. I am armored up. I haven’t been able to sleep. My mind keeps replaying the day’s events. Every time I close my eyes I see Nathanial dying or Ken being shot in the head.

My security detachment follows me wherever I go, no matter what time it is. They shadow me, quiet and respectful, allowing me to think, but near enough to protect me if needed. These men and women are comprised of soldiers from the Naval Postgraduate School. They are all strangers to me, and they take over my protection while my primary Lieutenants — Uriah, Vera and Sophia — are sleeping.

The hallways are silent and cold at night. There are patrols everywhere. Most of the compound is dark, due to the fact that there’s really no reason to run the generators for lights when most on the compound are asleep.

I find my way to the exit doors of Herrma

“Hey, where are you headed at this time of night?” Devin is standing at the bottom of the steps leading up to the hotel entrance. He’s got his arms crossed, jacket unbuttoned.

“Clearing my head,” I reply. “You?”

He shrugs. Yeah. The same thing.

I descend the steps, surveying the area. It’s very quiet at night — almost eerie. But I know that there are countless patrols on duty. Every square inch of the compound is being watched. Not to mention the fact that at least eight people are standing around me in my security detail, watching my every move.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Devin asks. His blonde hair looks white in the darkness. “Sleeping?”

“Yeah, somewhere around here,” I reply.

“I notice there’s a little… tension between you two.” He holds his hands up. “Tell me if I’m being out of line here and I’ll shut up, but something’s going on.”

I flash a sad smile.

“It’s war.”

“Chris is a good guy,” Devin answers. “We were good buddies back in the day. Great buddies, actually. Not surprised he became one of the leaders of the militia movement. He always had leadership in him.”

I shove my hands in my pockets, curious.

“What was he like when you knew him?” I ask. “Before all of this?”

Devin raises an eyebrow, like he knows that I am fishing for information that Chris won’t give me. And, being the good friend that he is, Devin chooses his words carefully.

“He was the same,” he answers. “He wasn’t so serious, though. The war… that changed him. Everything changed him.”

I say nothing.

“He told me he was in Afghanistan and Iraq before the EMP,” I say.

“We both were.” Devin sighs. “It doesn’t matter who you are. War changes you. For better or for worse.”

True story. I see the carnage of today’s Presidio bloodbath in my mind’s eye — and then I shove it away.

“Hey,” Devin says. “Don’t look so depressed. You’re a great Senator, and now you can go back to Sacramento as a hero. People love you already — now they’ll love you even more.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “My father’s probably dead.”

Devin looks surprised.

“Chris told me about that,” he answers. “I was under the impression that he just hadn’t been found yet.”

I lift one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug.

“MIA is the same thing as being dead,” I whisper. I haven’t allowed myself to think about my father while we’ve been here. I knew that if I let my mind wander in that direction, I would be overcome with grief, and I would be off my A-game for the Negotiations.

“Hey,” Devin says, touching my shoulder. “Let’s not get doom and gloomy. Come on, I’ll show you something cool.”

He gestures for me to follow him, and I do.

I feel slightly guilty, going off with Devin in the middle of the night, leaving Chris behind in the hotel. But honestly… Chris isn’t really talking to me very much right now anyway, so here I am.

We round the back corner of the compound and Devin opens the passenger door of a retrofitted armored Jeep. “After you, my lady.”

“We’re going somewhere?” I ask.

“You’re going to like this place, I promise,” he says. For a split second, the thought occurs to me that Devin is trying to trick me — trying to lure me out of the compound and kill me outside of the school.

And then I throw the idea out the window. My security detachment is following us in two vehicles behind us. If Devin was an enemy, he wouldn’t kill me right now. He wouldn’t even try.

I hop into the passenger seat. Devin closes the door and walks around the vehicle to get behind the wheel. He grins at me, and in that moment he reminds me of Chris. It’s the same mischievous, devilish look I’m used to seeing when Chris is happy.

And those times are few and far between, anymore.

Devin turns the key in the ignition and we are rolling toward the exit. I feel a little bit of excitement. Where is he taking me?

I fold my hands on my lap and watch Devin out of the corner of my eye. His tight, methodical ma

Either they were much closer than I realized, or all Navy SEALS are the same.

He checks in with the guard at the checkpoint and then we’re turning right, toward the highway. “Where are we going, Devin?” I ask.

“You’ll see.” Devin smiles again. “Take my word for it, it’s going to be worth it.”

The sun is just begi

“This is gorgeous,” I say. “It’s like being in the mountains again.”

“That’s the charm of Monterey,” Devin replies. “We’ve got the best of both worlds.”

There is no traffic on the freeway, of course. Aside from the occasional military vehicle or checkpoint, the entire city’s traffic and tourist trade has stopped. Frozen in time. It is depressing and fascinating all at once.

After a good ten minutes winding through the small highway, it becomes a two-lane road. We bypass dead stoplights and the road dips downward, overlooking a marshy valley interspersed between the mountains.

“What is this place?” I ask.

“Carmel-by-the-Sea,” Devin replies. “Used to be the place to live. It’s like Beverly Hills but the traffic is better and there are no paparazzi.”

I laugh.

The road curves to the right. There is a sprawling, abandoned shopping center to the left. Devin takes a right and we follow a road, flashing by abandoned houses with dead grass and shriveled foliage.

“What happened to the people who lived here?” I ask. “I mean, if it’s under military protection, why is everyone gone?”

“Because Monterey wasn’t completely secure until a couple of months after the EMP,” Devin replies. “People still panicked. People still left the city. There were riots, a little bit of anarchy. But the strong military presence here kept everything from going completely under. We were able to secure the city limits and make Monterey a stronghold.” He shrugs. “It’s worked so far.”