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(imagery intelligence), which were used sparingly and always during the day. The only other int they were able to use was HUMINT (human-derived intelligence), which meant they had collectors both overtly speaking to refugees, and clandestinely embedded within groups.
    Lt. Rosamilla briefed me. “God’s New Army, or GNA, is the most organized of the groups operating in the greater L.A. area. Their HQ is West Covina Plaza, what used to be a mall.”
    “I’ve been there to see movies before.”
    Rosamilla made a face. “No such thing as movies anymore.”
    “Unless you count reruns.”
    “Fuck nostalgia.”
    I grinned as Bruce Willis, Clint Eastwood and Woody Harrelson rolled over in their Cray-made graves. I was starting to like Rosamilla. He said what he wanted and didn’t hold back. I found that unique in a lieutenant. They were normally so tightly wound that even swearing in public would send them spinning into a panic.
    “Back to GNA.”
    “Right. Their strength is about four thousand. They operate like a brigade, with four battalions of eight hundred people at remote stations and one battalion of eight hundred on site. Remote locations are Turnbull Canyon in Whittier, Chino Airport, Knott’s Berry Farm in Buena Park, and Seal Beach.”
    Looking at a map, I noticed something. “So it looks like the 605 is their front. Are they actively fighting the Cray?”
    “Negative. They stay away, and the Cray leave them alone.”
    “Then what’s the problem?”
    “The population west of the 605 is evidencing extraordinarily violent behavior. Reports are that they’ve become quite savage, attacking anything that moves.”
    “Jesus, you’re talking like they’re zombies.”
    “Perhaps their behavior is similar, but these people are alive. And we don’t think it’s behavioral. We believe its chemical.”
    I frowned. “So there’s something in the water.”
    “Or in the air.” Rosamilla shook his head. “We just don’t know.”
    “Tell me about GNA. What’s their mission?”
    “They’re led by none other than Paul Sebring.”
    “ The Paul Sebring? The guy who hosted that amateur singing show called Sing America?”
    “Same one. Turns out to be a pretty effective demagogue.”
    “I’d have expected it to be run by a general.”
    “The chief of staff is retired Major General Carlos Murphy, who once commanded the 4 th Infantry Division.”
    “That would explain it. You know, I watched the show and wasn’t aware that Sebring was religious.”
    “He’s not. God is just a rallying point. He’s built a core group, a cult of personality, which serves as his inner circle. We have a source inside, but given the challenges of distance and radio, our reports are weekly.”
    “Any thought of putting up some relay antennas?” I asked.
    Rosamilla shrugged. “It’s on our list of things to do, but it’s a long fucking list.”
    “I hear ya,” I said.
    “Back to GNA. Right now they’re doing what we can’t. They’re trying to establish a zone in which law and order is the rule, and are fighting back incursions from those west of the 605, as well as smaller groups in the area.”
    “What about these other groups? GNA doesn’t sound so bad. There must be some that are more... how should I put it... like The Road Warrior ?”
    “There are. You’ll have to pass through Fontana, which means you might come across Devil’s Thunder. They were a biker gang, but after the alien invasion, they became a militia. They’re your standard rape, pillage, and burn happy group of fellows. They control the I-15 corridor between Fontana and Victorville.”
    “Splendid. We’re going to have to cross I-15. Why is it we can’t land further west?” I sighed. “Oh, yeah. The Cray and their nasty EMPs. Speaking of, should there be any concern?”
    “The Twin Hives give off a pulse of EMP with a coverage area between the 405 and 605 to the east and west and the 405 and Angeles National Forest to the north and south. It