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federation president. When his fleet commanders started to use couriers instead of the normal communication channels to pass along information, Oshiro knew things were truly beginning to fall apart. “Is there anything else we need to discuss?”
    “No, sir, that is all until tonight’s operational briefings by the staff.”
    “Thank you, Sean.”
    Parker stood and left the room.
    Oshiro got out of his seat, walked over to the windows, and looked out over Chesapeake Bay. A sailboat was making its way out to sea. For a brief moment, Oshiro could see his grandfather and himself as a young boy sailing on the waters off Yokohama. He smiled and wished his life could return to those simpler days. It was a fool’s dream. He had responsibilities to the men and women of the fleet that went far beyond his own wishes and desires.  
    The term fleet was incorrect, but that didn’t stop Oshiro and everyone under his command from using it. The correct title for the organization under his command was the Federation Expeditionary Navy, which included the Marine Corps. It was one of three services that made up the Allied Defense Force. The Federation Expeditionary Army was responsible for the defense of the off-world colonies. Lastly, the Federation Home Guard looked after the defense of the Terran Solar System.
    Oshiro turned his back on the window, walked over to his desk, and picked up a remote. He turned on a screen mounted on the far wall. A twenty-four-hour news channel came on. Oshiro always kept it on mute. He preferred to read the headlines rather than listen to the so-called experts drone on for hours about nothing. Aside from the failed assassination attempt outside of ADF HQ in Rome, the next biggest news story was the upcoming presidential debates scheduled in three days’ time. The incumbent, President James Martinez, a Texan with a razor-sharp wit, was expected to do well. Despite what the pundits said, Oshiro knew that his challengers were not to be taken lightly. There was a retired military general who was popular with some of the more conservative elements of the population and a former member of the president’s cabinet who was proposing to enter into ceasefire talks with the Kurgan Empire.  
    Oshiro took his seat again and glanced over at an ornate brass clock on his desk. He saw that he had a couple of minutes before Parker placed his call with General Sadir, so he took one last gander at the news. A military spokesperson was explaining that the base on Eris had been stricken with he termed ‘a run of bad luck.’ They were having comms problems which the military expected to get fixed in the next couple of days. As well, the base had been placed out of bounds due to an outbreak of a virulent strain of influenza that had been brought there by a sick technician. Another lie that would have to be explained one day to the families of the dead , thought Oshiro. However, that was not the most pressing thing on his mind. If Valens failed to locate the missing virus, the entire human race could be facing extinction.

Chapter 5

    “You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Sheridan as he looked up at the bulbous dome sitting atop the old wooden church.
    “Vladimir Bodrov always had a flair for the dramatics,” replied Cole.  
    “Do you think he’ll see us? After all it is three in the morning.”
    “Vlad would get up a minute after he went to sleep if he thought there were something in it for him. Come on, let’s wake him up.”
    “There is no need, Alan, my old friend. I am already awake,” said a voice through a speaker hidden in a bush beside the path. A light above the church’s front door came on. “Come on inside and let us have a drink to old times.”
    Sheridan whispered, “I sure hope we’re not walking into a trap.”
    Cole smiled. “There’s only one way to find out.” With that, he walked to the brass-inlaid door and opened it. The inside of the church was dimly lit by a couple of half-melted