Moon sipped his hot coffee, and he thought how it tasted just as good as the first cup, if not better. But he still couldn’t hear what the men were discussing. Looking up, he noticed they were moving toward the war room, the same room where he had been questioned after exiting his flight last night.

  They weren’t more than twenty yards from the hallway they needed to take in order to get to the war room, and then he saw them stop as another man coming from an adjacent hallway joined them.

  Moon kept walking, then noticed that the new officer was the ship’s commanding officer, Captain Daniel Protach. The man that had questioned him the night before was now speaking with the officers Moon had been eavesdropping on.

  Moon tried to obscure his face with his coffee mug as Captain Protach stopped talking, his eyes locking with Moon’s.

  “Agent Moon, how can I help you today?” the captain asked, but not because he was being polite. He was more so pointing out that Moon was being nosey and to get lost.

  Moon thought about simply saying nothing and going about his business, but when had he ever minded his own business? Even though he should have kept his mouth shut, he just couldn’t help himself.

  “Just following your boys here, sir. Overhead them speaking of a Vargo subject⁠—”

  The captain deadpanned the two other officers as if he were deciding to hold a court martial right then and there for violating operational security.

  “Sir, I see the look. I’m no stranger to how a higher chain of command can get pissed off about something I said⁠—”

  “Then why would you run off at the suck?” the captain rebutted.

  “Sir, we are at a crossroads of evolutionary extinction, so please forgive my crassness. I needed coffee, and your officers meant no harm. But I only opened my mouth because of who they were speaking of. A nasty fella that goes by the singular name of Vargo. Now, before you pop a gasket, sir, I’m only bringing this up because my teammates and I have dealt with this Vargo character in the past. And we may be able to help shed light on this guy.”

  Captain Protach scratched his freshly shaven chin, obviously contemplating his next move. “You and your guys know that asshole?”

  “Well, ‘know’ is a strong word, but there’s some personal history between us, that’s for sure,” Moon replied.

  The captain shifted his eyes from Moon to his two officers and then back to Moon. “That’s fine. Get your men and meet us in the war room in ten, but don’t breathe a word of this or I’ll have you shot! Do you understand me, agent? Not one word, or my divers will be picking your body up off the bottom of the bay.”

  Moon was taken back. Never had he been threatened so violently, and he kind of liked it. In the back of his mind, he knew something big was afoot and that he respected the captain more now than after last night’s line of questioning. Then it dawned on him: he had to go wake Allman and Tag up after all, and they were going to be pissed having to go right into a briefing without breakfast. Unless he took them a fresh cup of coffee to tide them over.

  Chapter 23

  The War Room

  Mark Moon

  Onboard the USS Harry S. Truman

  In the Mouth of the Chesapeake Bay

  Moon held his coffee and glanced back over his shoulder at a pissed-off pair of snipers. Both Allman and Tag sipped their coffee, trying to rub the sleep from their eyes, and stared daggers into his heart. The last thing they wanted to do was stand before the commander of the ship, again.

  “Wait,” Allman said as he reached out and touched Moon’s right shoulder. “Tell me again what exactly you said to the captain about Vargo?”

  Moon stepped back from the war room door and leaned closer to both men. “Look, I kept it vague. Like I said, I told the captain that we knew the guy and that he was a real son of a bitch.”

  “Really, you said those words?” Tag asked. He rolled his eyes, knowing Moon was keeping the truth from them.

  “At least you guys got coffee. Now let’s go in here and find out what the fuck is going on,” Moon replied. “After all the fighting, don’t you guys want to know what it’s led to? For fuck’s sake, Allman, I would assume that of all people, after that lunatic locked you behind bars, you’d want to know.”

  Moon turned and knocked on the door, forcing both Allman and Tag to close their mouths and prepare themselves for the inevitable.

  The door cracked open, and Moon pushed it inward the rest of the way as he stepped inside, forcing a smile as he noticed the men in the room watching them.

  Allman and Tag followed, sipping their coffees, and again rolled their eyes. Both men wanted nothing to do with what was about to take place. They simply wanted to rest and recover from the last mission.

  “Gentlemen, please take a seat at the table,” Captain Protach explained as they walked in.

  Moon noticed the room had thinned out from yesterday. The last time he had been in that room, it was standing-room only, where they had made space for him at the table to sit and answer their pending questions. But now? Now, the table was near vacant with less than half a dozen officers and a master chief staring back at Moon as if he either owed him money or had slept with his wife. On the chief’s chest was the infamous SEAL trident, and Moon laughed internally, knowing of course there would be a SEAL master chief in the meeting.

  Moon was waved over to the head of the table, and Allman and Tag took seats on either side of him. He sat and interlocked his fingers in each hand before resting them on the table. He surveyed the room and could tell the men were not going to play nice. The questions were about to be hard and cutthroat.

  “Now, Agent Moon, you seemed to have some intel you wanted to push our way, so now is the time to do that, sir,” Captain Protach explained. He stood leaning against a support beam with his arms folded across his chest.

  Moon was stumped. Right out the gate, the captain put the ball in his court, while all Moon wanted was to learn why Vargo’s name had been spoken. It was in that moment that Moon regretted his curiosity. If he could go back in time, he would have made a right out of the chow hall and minded his own business. But it was too late now, and as he sized up the officers in the room, he felt backed in the corner, and no level of bullshit would save him.

  “Sir, with all due respect, I overheard Vargo’s name—” Moon’s eyes shot over to the master chief specifically to read his body language as he said the name Vargo, and he wasn’t disappointed. “I’ll keep it short and honest, gentlemen. You are looking at the sole survivors of my Protocol 9 team. There are no more. We are the last few, and over the last couple of months, we journeyed through hell just to be sitting here with you today, at this very expressive table.” He eyed the chief and then continued. “With that in mind, and before I deep dive into the story, let me introduce you to my men. The man on my right is a sniper by the name of Josh Allman, and to my left is my last sniper, Rico Tag. Together, I would comfortably estimate that both men have several hundred confirmed Carrier kills, so I’ll ask you to pay them respect as you speak to them.”

  “Duly noted. Now, can we get on with it, Agent Moon?” Captain Protach snapped back. Moon was an expert at reading the room, and he could tell now wasn’t the time to play fuck around.

  “I understand, sir. Allman can speak on this better, but I’ll tell you that while he was solo, escaping and evading through the infected city of San Diego—you know, where it all started—he attempted to rescue a female when he was rendered unconscious and taken prisoner by a smuggler named Vargo.”

  Captain Protach nodded, his eyes turning to Allman. “Please, Agent Allman, tell us in your words what happened.”

  Moon held his hand out to Allman, as if to say, Not yet.

  “Sir, before we get too deep in the weeds, can you tell us why Vargo’s name is popping up?” Moon asked, his eyes shifting between the captain and the chief.

  “No,” Captain Protach snapped back. “Now, Agent Allman, I’d like to hear your story, please.”

  Allman could tell the man was serious and he should no longer stall. “It was like Moon explained, sir. I was on my own in the city for a month⁠—”

  “How? Why were you by yourself?” Captain Protach interjected.

  “Well, to be frank, we were driving really fast, trying to evade a Russian suicide squad as we called for CAS, and well, we ran out of road. So the most logical thing to do in order to save our principle’s life was to launch our vehicle into the San Diego Bay like Bo and Luke Duke would, from Dukes of Hazard⁠—”

  The captain snickered but kept his eyes trained on Allman.

  “Somehow when we landed, I got ejected and nearly drowned. I surfaced as the exfil chopper was flying off. So that left me alone, and I had no other choice but to swim ashore and then E&E, sir.”

  “For a month?” the chief added.

  “Roughly, Chief,” Allman replied and then spoke again. “I spent a couple weeks hiding and scavenging. I collected weapons and gear and even a shitty-ass car, biding my time to go find my guys.”

  “Where were your guys?”

  “Look, sir, it’s really a long story, but yes, we had guys MIA in the city, so I was going to attempt to locate them. Along the way, I met a teenage girl named Kate. Reluctantly, I agreed to help save her mother.” Allman fought the tears back at this point, and a lump formed in the back of his throat as his mind was reminded of how he failed to save Kate Color’s mom, which resulted in her mother’s death.

  “I understand you’ve had a tumultuous time, Agent Allman. You all have. But how does Vargo fit into your comings and goings? Please, it’s important,” Captain Protach asked, his eyes kinder now.

  Allman nodded. “You see, Vargo isn’t just a smuggler, but he also deals in human trafficking. Once the virus collapsed what he knew of our society, money became worthless. But in his eyes, women became a commodity.”

  “I’m following, go on,” he replied.

  “Kate had discovered a solid location where her mother was being held. However, she had no means to save her.”

  “And that’s where you came in,” the master chief added.

  “Yeah, Chief, that’s where I stepped in. I attempted to save her but failed miserably. It could have been my finest hour, but instead, I woke up in a jail cell and she was dead. Later, I would come to learn that Vargo took me. Why? I don’t know, but he had killed Kate’s mother in the process.”

  Captain Protach looked to the master chief with questioning eyes, and the chief nodded. “They will do, sir. I don’t need to hear anymore. Frankly, I don’t care if this guy butt-fucked the agents. You could see it in their eyes that they can’t stand the man. I’ll take them.”

  Moon, Tag, and Allman all looked at each other with confusion, Allman lipping the words, What is going on? to Moon.

  “We don’t need to hear anymore, but thank you for being very frank with us,” Captain Protach explained. “We are in a unique situation here, having you men aboard. One, that means you fall under my command, and while I originally intended for you to rest and refit, then shuttle you back to Florida, I think we can make better use of you guys.”

  “Come again, sir?” Moon asked, not liking where the conversation was headed. Now he really wished he would have minded his own business.

  “Vargo has been listed as a terrorist of the state, to which he will need to be put down. It seems that he and his militia have taken control of a Minuteman III silo out west,” the captain said.

  “Are you telling us that that crazy fuck has successfully taken one of our nuclear silos?” Moon asked, his eyes wide, jaw slightly agape.

  “It sounds bad, I know⁠—”

  “Sounds bad? How the hell could that even happen?” Moon raised his voice in amazement.

  “Well, there’s a lot of facts to take into consideration, the first one being that just before the outbreak, that particular ICBM had its nuclear warhead removed and was being prepped to fire in order to test the nation’s capabilities. This is not uncommon but really just bad timing.”

  “But the security?”

  “Security had not only been downsized to escort the warhead elsewhere, but once the outbreak hit, it decimated the security force that was left. The other aspect was that the silo was also due for some serious maintenance, including the missile hatch itself, which had been having locking issues. But as we sit here, Vargo and his militia are in a standoff with our two launch officers that happen to be secured inside the fortified launch room on site,” Captain Protach explained. “The irony of the situation, if there is one, is that Vargo believes he has a fully intact ICBM with a nuclear warhead attached. We know that is not the case, and if somehow he finds a way to launch it, the missile will launch but nothing will go boom when it lands.”

  The senior chief stepped in. “The bad part of this whole thing, gentlemen, is that other countries are beginning to get wind of this. And if he is able to launch, they’ll have no other recourse other than to retaliate with their own nuclear strikes. We were already on edge with the Russians, who have been content with watching us slowly wither away as a nation from their biologically hacked virus. But this could nudge them to finish the job they started. Basically, step on our heads while we’re drowning.”

  Moon scratched his freshly shaven chin. Now he was beginning to see the bigger picture.

  Captain Protach turned to the chief. “You good with these three?”

  “I am, sir. Let’s get it spun up and go,” he replied.

  “Agents, at least you got some good sleep last night and fresh chow in your guts. Senior Chief Stroud, they’re all yours.”

  Moon looked left and right, understanding that he and his men had just been volun-told for a mission.

  Allman cut his eyes at Moon as if to say, Get fucked for sticking your nose where it didn’t belong, and Tag just laughed, shaking his head while awaiting what the chief was about to say next.

  “All right, boys, you know the drill,” Senior Chief Stroud said. “My team is down men, thanks to a helo full of Carriers, but that’s another story for a different day. Right now, you men are about to accompany me and my SEALs to that silo and take it back. It’s that simple. We will get you all geared up, and hopefully, with any luck, we can time it where we can be wheels up after lunch and on target near nightfall.”

  Chapter 24

  Airborne

  Mark Moon

  Onboard the USS Harry S. Truman

  In the Mouth of the Chesapeake Bay

  Afternoon, 03 June 2025

  “You had to go and stick your nose in the ship’s business, didn’t you?” Allman chastised Moon. “Now, granted, I may get a chance to come full circle and kill that mother fucker for what he did to me⁠—”

  “Did the bad man touch you, Josh?” Tag joked behind his back. “Here, take this doll and show us where the bad man touched you.”

  “Get fucked, Rico,” Allman replied without missing a beat. “I’m not mad at us spinning up again, but I wanted a few days of downtime first. Hell, I didn’t even get a chance to call my boys. You know I needed that.”

  “I know, I fucked the pooch, but give me a break. I was looking forward to some beers and pizza myself. But that just wasn’t in the cards we drew. Now, we can load up with rage in our veins, or we can get focused and deal with it.”

  “You’re not wrong. What’s done is done, but for Pete’s sake—” Allman snapped back.

  “I tell you what, you still got your sat phone?” Moon asked as he surveyed Allman’s fresh and borrowed gear.

  Allman unzipped his utility pouch attached to his chest rig, just under his left arm, and pulled it out after rotating his M4 to his right side.

  Moon smiled. “Good. Now, once we are clear on target, and Vargo is dead, you can call ’em up and we will arrange for a CESAR bird to go get them.”

  “No shit?” Allman questioned.

  “No shit. If you can figure out where they are, I’ll pull every string we can to pick them up. Right now, I think we could get the captain to agree to just about anything. Besides, the safe zones are a priority, and getting people to those zones are a part of that,” Moon explained.

  Allman nodded with a smirk. “Well, why didn’t you say that in the beginning? I have some payback to deal out. Let’s go kill that asshole.”

  Moon smiled, and before he could say another word, the ship’s aircraft elevator yawned as it began to rise in the air. As he steadied himself, the platform’s hydraulic arms lifted the elevator until Mark Moon, Josh Allman, and Rico Tag were level with the flight deck and staring at a small group of Navy SEALs about to board the same Osprey as they were.

  Then Moon noticed Senior Chief Stroud walking over. Moon lifted his head as if to say hi, and Stroud returned the gesture. “You boys look ready. I see my guys got you squared away with some new digs.”

  “They sure did, Chief, but in reality, all of our old gear was done for. If our kits were cats, they would have used up all nine lives, for sure.”

  Stroud laughed. “Well, I can see you got NODs, helmets, chest rigs, and rifles. If you have bullets and a frag or two, not to mention comms, we can load you guys up and get going.”

  “Yamaguchi got us set up with radios and a fill,” Moon replied.

  “Ole Guchi is a crazy bastard. Don’t go sleeping on that man. He will string you up before you know it, if you’re a bad guy, that is.” Stroud pulled his radio out and toggled to the team channel. “Check one, check two, how copy?”

  Moon’s ears heard every word. He nodded, then spoke back into his mic. “I copy, Chief.”

  Chief Stroud nodded with a grin. “Loud and clear, Agent Moon.” He turned to Allman and Tag.

  In unison, they both said, “We copy, Chief, loud and clear.”