Flowers and dinner dates? Never had those.
Firefights and battle fatigue? That’s more like it.
Wartime hardship has always been the dominating factor in our romance. It’s what brought us together, it’s what’s kept us together, and now…it’s what has torn us apart. Being separated from Chris is more difficult for me than being separated from my father. Because through everything, Chris has been the one that has kept my feet on the ground. He’s been the one to protect me, train me, and teach me how to survive. The fact that I’m still alive is a testament to his skillset, not mine.
And not knowing if he’s alive or dead is killing me.
Our platoon is gathered at the long table in the dining room of Arlene’s ranch house. Derek is sitting across from me. Vera is on my left, Uriah is on my right, and Manny and Arlene are seated on the other end of the table. Andrew is sitting on a couch, fiddling with a radio.
“The plan?” Manny echoes. “We eat.”
Several women pop out of the kitchen, serving us food. Someone sets a bowl of steaming beef stew in front of me. It smells fabulous. Much better than the wartime rations I’ve been eating on the battlefield.
“Where do all these people come from?” I wonder aloud.
“They’re refugees,” Arlene explains. “They stay here, and in exchange for safekeeping, they help Underground operations run smoothly.” She gestures to the soup. “Feeding our soldiers is an important part of that.”
“Are you associated with any specific militia?” Vera presses.
“I’m a free agent. What I do is here is my own business, and I’ve chosen to help all of the militias.” Arlene picks up her spoon. “We’ve all got to do our part to keep Omega out of our homes.”
True words.
“How do you know Manny?” I ask, pointblank.
Arlene seems startled by my question, then takes a bite of stew.
“I’ve known Manny for many years,” she replies.
“Arlene and I go back a long time,” Manny says.
“Commander,” she says, looking at me, “as soon as your men have eaten, I’ll give you all the information and equipment you’ll need to reach Los Angeles.”
I pick up my utensils.
“Has Omega ever showed up on your front doorstep?” Uriah asks. “I mean, every nice ranch house or mansion from here to the valley has pretty much been burned or ripped apart.”
“They’ve yet to find me,” Arlene says. “This property is well hidden, far away from the main highways and difficult to spot from the air. Local militia keeps Omega from wandering too far into these hills with harassing fire. I’ve never had this many militiamen at Double Y before. The sooner you’re on your way, the better.”
Okay, then.
“What’s left of Los Angeles?” Vera suddenly asks.
I flick my gaze to Arlene, watching her face. She frowns slightly, swallows, and answers, “It’s different.”
“Define different.”
“The Port of Los Angeles is being used to receive ships filled with Chinese soldiers,” Arlene replies. “Downtown Los Angeles has been commandeered by military units and Beverly Hills has been taken over by high level Omega officers.”
“What about the population?” Derek says. “The civilians?”
“They’re dead,” Arlene answers. No hesitation. “The chemical weapon was…effective. The population that remains exists only because Omega has allowed for a labor force. It is entirely a military city. A fortress.”
“The militias and the National Guard stopped Omega’s northward push into the valley,” I say. “I don’t think it was because we had more soldiers or firepower. Something drove them back, and it wasn’t us. Has something happened that we need to know about?”
“She’s a smart one,” Manny tells Arlene. “Or didn’t I tell you that already?”
“You’ve told me,” Arlene says. “Eat your dinner. I’ll explain everything afterward. I promise.”
I can live with that.
“We’re walking into a hellhole,” Vera mutters to me. “Once we go into Los Angeles, there’s no coming out.”
“I told you upfront that this was no picnic,” I reply, sharp. “If you’re worried, stay here. I don’t care.”
And I really don’t.
I don’t need Vera Wright any more than I need a diamond ring at this point.
She glares at me, and once again I wonder why she’s here.
For Chris? Because she’s got a crush on him? No. To go on a suicide mission into the heart of an Omega stronghold with a girl that you can’t stand requires more than a simple crush as motivation.
What does Vera Wright want from me?
“Tell me, Commander,” Arlene inquires, “how long you’ve been fighting with the militias.”
“Chris Young liberated me from an Omega POW camp,” I reply. “I joined at that point.”
“They say that you’re an excellent sniper,” she grins.
I take a sip of water. “They’ve said a lot of things.”
“It seems the story of Chris Young and Cassidy Hart has become prime entertainment for members of different militias across the state — and even across the country.”
It could be worse.
When we’re done eating, I follow Arlene into the living room. She pulls down a map from a floor-to-ceiling bookcase at the end of the room. The room is illuminated with 19th century oil lamps. I stand with my arms crossed, studying the map.
“This is us,” Arlene says. She points to a region behind Highway 138, burrowed into the mountains. “You need to get here.” She drags her finger across the mountains and to the edge of Los Angeles. “Then to the city of Westwood, California. According to Underground operatives, Omega is housing prisoners of war in the Los Angeles County Jail.”
My heart sinks.
My father was a Los Angeles cop. I drove by the County Jail many times. It’s a fortress.
“Don’t look too discouraged, my girl,” Manny grins, patting my shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about the jail. They’re keeping militia officers in an entirely different location. Large prisons are too complex and crowded, with limited electricity. But smaller buildings? That’s where they keep the important officers.”
“Chances are, if Commander Young is still alive,” Arlene interjects, “he’ll be kept somewhere in downtown Westwood. It’s near where many of the ranking Omega officers are encamped, which makes him easily accessible for interrogation.”
“Where is the location of this building, exactly?” Uriah asks.
“That I can’t say,” she shrugs. “Scouts will have more information for you when you reach the Way Houses.”
“Say what?” Derek demands. “This is too complicated. Give it to us straight and simple, lady.”
“Derek,” I warn.
But I don’t disagree.
“I want the whole story,” I say, facing Arlene. “Before we leave here, I want to know everything that you know about Los Angeles.”
Manny chuckles, sitting on the couch, propping his legs up on the coffee table.
“I’d say that’s a fair deal,” he remarks. “What do you say, Arlene?”
She raises an eyebrow.
“Fine,” she replies.
And that’s when she tells us.
“Omega was attacked in San Diego,” Arlene says.
The room goes silent. Like a tomb.
“By who?” Vera breathes. “United States military?
“Mexico,” Arlene answers.
“Mexico?” Derek repeats. “Does Mexico still exist?”
“All I know is what I’ve heard,” Arlene says, raising her hands. “They say that Mexico forces en masse attacked Omega in San Diego. It was huge. Omega was taken by surprise.”