He embraces the man and they start laughing. I trade a blank glance with Uriah. He shrugs. Vera, Andrew, Sophia and Elle come around the back of the convoy just in time to glimpse the two men hugging.

“I can’t believe you’re here, man,” the guy says.

“Yeah, neither can I,” Chris replies. He takes a step back and gestures to me. “Devin, this is Cassidy Hart. Cassie, this is Devin May. We went through SEAL training together.”

“Oh, back in the old days, huh?” I quip.

“Hello, gorgeous,” Devin says, taking my hand. “You always knew how to pick up a lady, Chris.” He mock kisses my hand. “This is your team?” He nods at Uriah and the rest of the crew.

“Most of them,” Chris answers.

“Well, welcome to the Naval Postgraduate School of Monterey,” Devin answers. He looks powerful, strong and… loud. “I’m Lieutenant May, but you can call me Devin, Senator.” He winks at me. “We’re going to keep you safe and sound here for the Negotiations with the Pacific Northwest Alliance, and lucky for you, I’ve been assigned to make sure you find your way around the compound without getting lost.”

“I’ve spent too much time here to get lost,” Chris replies, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t tell my superior officer that,” Devin says. “It’s a need-to-know kind of thing, don’t you think?”

I laugh.

“Okay, let’s move this party inside,” Devin says, serious. “The building’s interior is a lot safer than out here.”

“This entire city is secure,” Sophia suddenly says. “Who’s going to hurt us inside the Naval compound?”

Devin gives her a look.

“You should know better, soldier,” he answers.

I can’t disagree with that.

As we turn away from the convoy, I notice for the first time the beautiful white barrack buildings on each side of us. It’s structured like a fortress. Two buildings on each side, and in the middle, a central edifice with white, Spanish-style pillars and steps. I like it already.

“How many times have you been here?” I ask Chris.

His mood seems to have temporarily lifted, thanks to Devin’s appearance.

“Many times,” he replies.

“That’s an understatement,” Devin cuts in. “Chris and I used to hang out at Cannery Row at night. Remember, man? Those were the days.”

Chris doesn’t answer.

“Man, when they told me you’d be coming here, I couldn’t believe it was you,” Devin continues. “I mean, I’d heard about your work with the militias, but I didn’t think I’d see you again. Since the invasion, the world’s been cut down. I never see people I used to know anymore.”

Tell me about it.

We keep walking through the open courtyard between the barracks.

“This big building in the center here is called Herrmann Hall,” Devin explains, falling into step with me. “It used to be called the Del Monte Hotel before the military took it over, and then it was the on-base lodging center for Navy families and visiting SEALS like me and your boyfriend here.” He shakes his head. “Since everything went down, we’ve been using it as Headquarters in addition to lodging.”

“Are any other representatives here yet?” I ask.

“Yeah, we’ve got the reps from Oregon and Washington here,” Devin replies. “We’re still waiting on Mexico. They should be here by tonight.” Then he asks, “You’re a little young to be a senator, aren’t you? What are you… seventeen? Eighteen?”

Chris starts laughing. It’s a good sound — I’ve missed it.

“She’s twenty, Devin,” he chuckles.

“Huh.” Devin shrugs. “You don’t look it.”

I sigh.

We climb the steps into Herrmann Hall. The door is arched. Inside, I’m struck with the unique, old-fashioned vibe of the building. It’s beautiful. Dark flooring, light walls, and a wooden concierge desk. Navy officers and National Guards are manning the area. Those that are sitting down stand up immediately as Chris and I enter the room.

“As you were,” Chris says, tilting his head.

I am used to this, so I don’t flush with embarrassment like I would have in the past. Devin smirks and walks to the front desk, where a young man in the dark blue camouflage of a Navy uniform greets us.

“Tell the reps from Oregon and Washington that California just arrived,” Devin says. “This way, Senator.”

He gestures to a long, ornate hallway. The Spanish tile and blue carpet running down the center resembles the long walk into a throne room. It makes me a little uneasy.

“I’ll show you where you’ll be staying while you’re here,” Devin tells me. “Both of you. If the representative from Mexico gets here on time, we should be able to hold Negotiations as soon as tonight.”

“How are the Naval forces holding up here?” Chris asks.

“Couldn’t be better at the moment,” Devin replies. “Monterey is among the most secure military strongholds on the west coast. Omega won’t touch it right now. Their forces are concentrated down south.”

We reach the end of the hall. The main stairwell extends above us. I feel like I’m inside a castle. We climb the carpeted stairs to the next level. Up here, the halls are narrower and lit with generator-powered lights. Devin walks to the center of the hall. There are two doors.

“One room for you,” he tells Chris, “and one for the Senator. Your security detail can still do its thing. We’ve secured the entire base. The Navy’s protecting the city on the water, and the National Guard is protecting the city on the ground. You’ll be safe here.”

I raise an eyebrow.

Safe is a relative term, anymore.

“Thank you,” I say.

Devin gives me a key — it’s old fashioned, metal. I slide it into the lock in the door on the right and open it. The room is lovely, Spanish style like the rest of the building. There is a bed, chair, table and a bathroom. Wide windows overlook the huge, open courtyard between the two major halls of the connected buildings.

“We’ll notify you immediately when the representative from Mexico arrives,” Devin promises. “Do you have any questions? Anything you might need?”

I share a brief glance with Chris.

There’s nothing that I need right now, aside from rest.

“We’re set,” Chris replies. “But can I talk to you for a minute, Devin?”

Devin nods.

Andrew, Vera, Sophia, Elle and Bravo leave the room. Chris slips into the outer hall with Devin. I close the door behind them, walking to the window again. The courtyard is full of soldiers and military vehicles. It is a well-organized operation. And, unlike Sacramento, it seems to be impenetrable.

We’ll see how long that lasts.

The meeting room looks as scary as a battlefield. A long, narrow room stretches before me, huge windows covered with thick curtains. A table stretches the length of the space, modern and dark. There are thirty swiveling chairs. Chairs also line the walls of the room. The ceiling is swirling with ornate designs in burnt oranges, deep reds and gold tones. There are armed guards every few feet in the room. A huge American flag is hanging above a large piece of artwork at the opposite end of the table.

I take a deep breath.

Chris is standing behind my shoulder. Uriah, Vera, Andrew, Sophia and Devin May are to my right, remaining in a standing position. The table is relatively empty. Only four people, along with their armed escorts, are here.

I’m wearing black combat fatigues and a jacket, hair pulled tightly into a bun, armed with a handgun and a knife strapped to my hip. I walk to the table, nod at the representatives, and take a seat. There is no friendly banter or introduction. I simply sit down in the chair behind the CALIFORNIA placard.

Chris takes a seat in one of the chairs at the edges of the room. There are plenty of people gathered, listening and watching. Naval commanders, National Guard Officers, security details, armed guardsmen and militia leaders.