State of Alliance

I spot Sophia out of the corner of my eye. She is smiling at Elle, who has Bravo in tow. Andrew is approaching them, and they are all talking, friendly.

I wish I could talk like that to Sophia again.

“What do we do in the meantime?” I ask, stating the obvious. “What’s the protocol? Do we take out the ships or wait to see what’s going to happen? To be completely honest, guys, I’d rather not wait for Omega to make the first move. When they do that, people die. Good people. We should be on offense, not defense.”

Anita slowly nods.

Chris tilts his head, the ghost of a smile on his face. I know he agrees with me.

“Come on, folks,” Devin a

“Say hello to the Golden Shark,” Devin says, gri

We are standing at the end of a pier that juts into the water, bobbing with each swell of the sea. A Coast Guard cutter is here. It’s not very big — it’s built for speed and efficiency rather than size. It is slim and white. A cabin is perched up front. Windows surround the room, so that the captain can see in all directions.

“She’s pretty,” I comment.

There is a small crew aboard. The Coast Guard team wears bright orange jackets and dark blue pants with boots. They are mostly young men, with a couple of senior officers aboard.

Chris is here with me, as is Devin, Uriah, and Andrew.

Elle, Sophia, and Anita Vega are still in the aquarium.

“Can you take us out?” I ask, a thrill of excitement rushing through me. I have never been on a boat, and this seems like the perfect opportunity. “I’d like to see what’s going on out there.”

The Coast Guard probably has better things to do than take one Senator/Commander out in the bay. But Chris shares a knowing glance with Devin, and the two nod at the same time.

“I think we can arrange that,” Devin replies.

“Really?”

“Really,” Chris replies. “You’ve got your security detachment and I think it would be good for you to see the bay and report your findings to the Alliance.”

I feel relieved. Chris is letting me go without him. Willingly.

He is trusting my instincts, trusting my ability to handle myself.

“Good,” I say. “Then let’s go out on the bay and see what we can see. I want to know where these Omega troop movements are happening.”

Devin steps onto the cutter. The Captain is a tall black man with a shaved head and glittering brown eyes. He is expressionless as Devin speaks to him, occasionally glancing at Chris and I.

“Cassidy,” Devin says. “This is Captain Adams. Captain, this is Commander Hart and Commander Young of the Freedom Fighters in the Central Valley.”

Adams salutes me.

“Welcome aboard, Commander Hart,” he says.

“Thank you, Captain,” I reply.

I look at Chris.

“Go back to the school,” I say. “I’ll take the cutter, tell you what I see on the coastline. Take Devin, Uriah and Andrew with you. I’ll just take the security detachment.”

He raises an eyebrow as if to argue the point, but thinks better of it.

“Okay,” he says at last, like the words are painful. “Be careful.”

I can tell by the expression on his face and the way that he is carrying his body that he wants to embrace me; kiss me, maybe. But he doesn’t because we are surrounded by people and now is definitely not the time.

“See you at base,” I tell Chris and Devin.

“See you, Commander,” Devin replies, winking.

Chris hesitates only a moment longer before leaving me, and that’s when I know that the suffocating tension between us has dissipated. We haven’t cleared up everything, but at least we are comfortable.

“Well, Captain,” I say. “Shall we?”

Captain Adams grins.

“We shall, Commander.”

Chapter Eleven

The salty ocean spray wets my hair and freezes my fingers, making it difficult to grasp the railing on the cutter. They call it a cutter for a reason, too. It slices through the water like a blade, bouncing and gliding and jarring all at once.

It is an entirely new sensation for me. I’ve been in planes, ridden horses in combat, gotten blown up inside of a Humvee on a battlefield… but being on a boat is different. It’s disorienting. The deck continually swells under my feet, making walking from one end of the vessel difficult when it is in motion.

A dramatic spray of water jets out behind us as we move through the cold bay, leaving a white, foamy trail of bubbles. There is a collection of rocks along the coastline up ahead, near the tip of the peninsula. Several sea lions are lounging, unconcerned with the war and everything around them. They just lie there, basking in the sunlight.

The coastline is a pencil-thin outline in the horizon. Monterey Bay is a crescent moon, and the buildings on the shoreline look like toy blocks from here.

“Commander Hart,” Captain Adams says. “Follow me.”

He is a tall, strapping man with broad shoulders. We climb the stairs to the cabin, a small compartment with a control panel and the ship’s wheel. There are windows on all sides of us, giving us a great view of the sea. I adjust the straps on my orange life jacket and assess my surroundings.

A young man with curly black hair is at the wheel, and there is another man here as well. They nod at us as we enter.

“The Golden Shark is capable of twenty-eight knots,” Captain Adams tells me, his voice loud and booming. “We’ve got a twenty-five millimeter machine gun mount and a fifty caliber machine gun. We’ve got the ability to survive on rough seas and loiter speed for eight hours.” Captain Adams folds his arms across his chest, seawater rolling down his jacket. “I’ve been up and down this coastline every day since the EMP, Commander. I wandered too far south one day and half of my crew were killed by enemy fire. Omega was coming in to Los Angeles at the time, and we barely made it out of there alive.” He shakes his head. “Since then, I haven’t seen any Omega activity this far north. Until yesterday. Those ships off the coastline and the one ship I saw about forty miles up the shoreline here So, four ships total.”

“How many troops did you see?” I ask.

“Hard to say. Probably five hundred, at least on the shoreline.” He frowns. “They weren’t hiding their presence, either. They were being shipped onto the shoreline, dropped off like a special delivery. It was like they wanted us to know they were here.”

“How far out has Monterey been secured?” I say. “I know that the city itself is locked down pretty tight, but where does the ring of military defense stop?”

Captain Adams answers, “About twenty miles out. Past that, it’s still hostile territory, in my opinion. The Central Valley is pretty secure, but San Francisco and other cities up north on the Pacific Ocean are still having a hard time. Let’s hope California joining the Alliance changes that.”

“I hope so, too, Captain,” I say.

I really do.

We speed further up the coast, the cerulean blue of the sea spectacularly beautiful in the late morning sun.

“Did you live in Monterey?” I ask Captain Adams. “Before the EMP and the invasion, I mean?”

His eyes become sad, then.

“Yes,” he replies. “I did.”

And that’s it. I wonder how many people in his life have died.

I wonder if he was married, if he had children…

“This is where we saw them,” Captain Adams says, changing the conversation. “They moved inland. The thing that gets me, though, Commander… it’s like they removed all traces of their presence. They just showed up, then disappeared.”

There is nothing special about the strip of land here. It is merely a beach. Sandy dunes precede the shore, and beyond that is the California coast.

“If there were five hundred troops, Captain,” I reply, “and they seemingly vanished without a trace, I think it’s safe to say that we’re in trouble.”