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about the blasts in New York, D.C., Los Angeles, and we got out of there,” Jim said.
     
    “You know, one of my lieutenants recognized you when you walked into the medical unit. I didn’t think the famous Jim Farr would be all the way out here, but when your friend started blabbing about his heroics to our nurse, I thought it might be you,” said Haggard.
     
    Coyle stepped in between Jim and Captain Haggard and raised his index finger. “And you wouldn’t happen to know if she said anything about me, would you?”
     
    The two of them glanced back over to Coyle at the same time. Coyle let the awkward pause linger before he lowered his finger and waved it off. “I can find out later.”
     
    Haggard attempted to egg Jim on. “With your intelligence background and the close relationship I’m told you have with Captain Streak, I’m surprised you don’t have your own theory.”
     
    “It was well planned. With the multiple attacks across the country, whoever did this had been getting ready for a very long time. They knew exactly what to do and how to do it. But that’s not what scares me the most.”
     
    Haggard raised his eyebrows. “And what does scare you the most?”
     
    Jim paused as he looked straight into Haggard’s eyes and said, “That whoever did this seriously believes that they can win.”
     
    Captain Haggard rested his hands on the table and leaned in to meet Jim’s gaze. Coyle sat frozen in his seat. Haggard motioned at an MP by the door. “You can escort these two back to the base, and be sure to confiscate any weapons they have on them.”
     
    Jim knocked the MP’s hand away and marched out on his own steam. Coyle hung back a minute, and Haggard almost forgot he was there until he spoke up.
     
    “He’s had a long day,” Coyle said. Haggard gave a penetrating look that sent Coyle out of his chair and to the exit of the tent in a flash.
     
    Jim, Coyle, Tigs, and the rest of the survivors of the road blast were all gathered then sent to the base for safety precautions. They were told they would be able to rest and regroup there. Jim had to give up his pistols, shotgun, rifle, and ammunition from the duffel bag upon arrival. Coyle’s stomach rumbled, and the two decided the first order of business was to find the mess hall.
     
    Jim grabbed a plate and Coyle shuffled in behind him, cutting in front a man who was trying to get in line.
     
    “Hey, back of the line, pal,” the man said.
     
    Coyle whipped around and flashed his bandaged arm. “Medical case. I get first priority. Let me know when you save somebody’s life, though, and I’ll be sure you get to the front of the line.” Coyle picked up a plate and turned to see Jim’s back. He pulled on his shoulder, but Jim wouldn’t budge. Coyle jumped around in front of him. “Are you trying to get us shot? Because based off of your track record, it’s starting to become a trend.”
     
    “I didn’t have the best track record when I was in the Navy. ‘Intelligent, but reckless’ I think is what my file said. The only thing I was reckless about was telling the truth.”
     
    “I never pictured you as the type with authority problems. That’s supposed to be my thing. You’re stealing my thunder, Jim.”
     
    A surly woman in a hairnet slopped a scoop of meat onto Jim’s plate, which splashed bits of brown drips onto his shirt. Jim looked down at his shirt and then at the lady who showed no sign of remorse. He moved on to the next server who was scooped some veggies.
     
    The spread wasn’t that bad. The mystery meat turned out to be meatloaf, and with sides of mash potatoes, green beans, and bread rolls, Jim realized just how long it had been since he actually ate something. He wolfed down the entire plate and got up for seconds. When he got back with his second helping, Coyle was just finishing up his first. Jim scooped up a little bit of the meatloaf and folded it in a napkin to give to Tigs back at their tent that was