Chapter Four

Author's Note: Most nuclear survivors in bunkers will subsist on grains; which means a facility where they can grow wheat needs to be available (no doubt via hydroponics and UV lighting). Mt. Storm has stated that they had food for 10 years for 1000 people however it will mostly be a diet of fish (that will be meat) and vegetables/grains (seeds which need to be grown 24/7 by means of ultraviolet light). Actual meat or cows will be at a premium and the cows will mostly be providing milk for the benefit of the children. Chickens will provide protein with eggs. All survivors must realize that killing livestock just shortens the amount of food that they have and they need to resort to replenishable means of food production (eggs (some eggs can be incubated for more chickens), milk).

As in canon, we realize in traumatic situations, Mac is emotionally fragile – PTSD (in this case Chaco Boreal never happened – the nuclear war did instead), so Mac is disassociating and probably going schizoid after a traumatic event coupled with an even more traumatic dictum issued by Boone.

Mt Storm Emergency Facility, Somewhere in the Blue Mountains of Virginia, 15 weeks Post-Apocalypse

"Tom…" the doctor said. "I do have some idea of how radiological particles can affect the human body." Doctor Ellen Parkman looked over at Tom Boone. "The main element that we have to watch for is cesium 137. It has a radioactive half-life of 30 years. That means that any child born in here will be in the mid-twenties to early forties before it is safe to venture out. And should we venture out, there is no telling where concentrations of cesium 137 are located so standing in an area could render a lethal dose without anyone being aware of it. It is a major source of radiation in nuclear fallout, and since it parallels potassium chemistry, it is readily taken into the blood of animals and men and may be incorporated into tissue making it the most serious threat that we face out there."

Boone rubbed his forehead. He was getting a major league headache from this. Even after two decades of having to deal with the idea of destruction and almost

"The other is strontium-90. It has a radioactive half-life of 28 years. Strontium-90 follows calcium chemistry, so that it is readily incorporated into the bones and teeth, particularly of young children who have received milk from cows consuming the grass that could be contaminated with it. Also of note are Iodine 131 because it attacks the thyroid and plutonium 239 which attacks the bones causing cancers. If we set out now, we will have to deal with three types of radiation damage: primarily bodily damage, meaning that you will have diseases like leukemia, and cancers of the thyroid, lung, breast, bone, and gastrointestinal tract. The secondary type of damage is genetic damage, that being birth defects and constitutional and degenerative diseases due to gonodal damage suffered by parents; and tertiary damage is development and growth damage, primarily growth and mental retardation of unborn infants and young children." Dr. Parkman explained. "The safest bet is to stay put and hope that we will be able to foster enough genetic diversity in this shelter that we are safe from having to set out for a few generations. Our best bet is to make sure that we have enough food growing here to support the increase in shelter population." Boone looked over at Parkman as she pointed these things out on the whiteboard. "We're pretty much in a situation where our best option is to stay sealed in this shelter for the foreseeable future or the radiation will kill us."

"Understood, Doctor." Boone said as he looked over at Harm and Animal. "Any input here?"

"I concur." Harm stated, turning to look at Animal.

"Agreed." Was Animal's response. "But what about the people who are getting restless? I've heard rumblings about a rebellion."

Just then a knock on the door prompted Harm to get up and go to get it. "Harm!" the look on Danny's face was stark relief. "We've got another situation in the chow hall."

"Shit." Harm swore and the three: Animal, Harm and Danny headed for the cafeteria. Yelling and sounds of fist on flesh could be heard down the hallway as Animal and the other two men made it to the cafeteria in time to see a chair hurtle through the air. Animal stepped through the cafeteria door, Beretta drawn, lethal intent apparent on his face.

"STAND DOWN!" Animal's bellow and his pointed weapon stopped the scuffle dead in its tracks. Antagonistic glares turned to face the two officers and one Navy Chief. They knew that the Privileged wouldn't hesitate to shoot and they were gauging if it would be worth it to charge three men with side-arms.

"Why don't we have enough food? All we've been getting are grains. When are we going to have meat. We have chickens, we have cows. When are we going to have some meat?!"

"We need to keep the animals to replenish the food that we have. It's been stated before. The cows are for milk (for the children), the chickens are for eggs. If we start killing them off, we starve." Harm stated.

"Bullshit!" That was Simone. "You're just hoarding them for yourselves."

Danny said quietly to Animal. "That's Simone, he's trouble."

"Who'da guessed?" Animal's tone was sarcastic.

"He tried to recruit me. That was before you guys came and gave me an offer. I didn't like his tone." Danny replied.

"If you don't clear this cafeteria, you will be put on restricted rations and confined to quarters!" Harm stated clearly, his voice snapping like a whip in the now silent cafeteria. Hostile looks permeated the room, but slowly, all too inexorably slowly the room started to clear. Simone passed by with a deadly look at the two officers and a cold expression at Danny – Animal took it to read reprisal and was stopped by Harm and Danny from stepping forward and confronting Simone. Simone just responded with a challenging look. When he had left; Harm turned to Danny. "We need to keep an eye on him."

All the way back to their quarters, the three watched each other's back. It wasn't until they were back in the armory, that they felt safe.

Mt Storm Emergency Facility, Somewhere in the Blue Mountains of Virginia – AgriFarm

"A modulated irradiance system was used to maintain UV-B radiation at 30% above the ambient level and was applied daily between the elongation and silking stages of the corn that we planted." The agricultural officer maintained gesturing at the rows of corn in the massive room. "But as you can see here, the UV-B radiation has adversely affected the growth and the yield. There are fewer kernels on the corn and the mass of the kernel is affected adversely too. However inversely, the protein content of the kernels increased with the reduction in kernels." Animal looked at Harm who looked just as confused as Animal did. "This means that when we grind the corn into flour, we can make corn bread as a source of protein for those who are hungry."

"What about other vegetables?" Animal asked.

"We've had luck with lettuce, and other leafy vegetables. However things like potatoes are tough to grow with the lack of actual light, as UV light creates solanine which is poison to living creatures."

"So I guess french-fries are out." Harm quipped dryly. "Mac is going to hate that. She lives on the stuff. Eating healthy just might kill her."

"I miss Beltway Burgers just as much as she does, but you don't hear me whining about it." Animal retorted with a snort of disgust. Turning back to the agricultural officer, Dr. David Brooke, he asked. "Do you have a report for Tom? Something in plain English?" He raised an eyebrow questioningly as Dr. David Brooke, Doctorate of Agriculture handed him a rather long ten page report.

"I've been meaning to give him this the past meeting, however I needed to make a few more assessments of our botanical and agricultural setups. We are looking at pharmacological botany, so that we have medicines that will help the shelter heal any infections. An influenza could wipe us out right now." The doctor looked meaningfully at Animal and at Harm. "It could be potentially disastrous."

"Understood." Medicine had gone back to the dark ages; the chemical pharmacological companies were all ashes with the nuclear devastation wreaked on the surface of the planet.

"I'll be consulting with Dr. Parkman on what she will be needing and finding substitutions organically for the medicines that we have been creating chemically in the past."

"Good…Keep me informed." Animal said as the two headed for the door. "I'll see you next week." Dr. Brooke sighed as he watched the two officers step out of his AgriFarm, their side-arms strapped against the side of their belts in a tactical thigh holster.

USS Birmingham SSBN-588, Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean, 16 weeks Post-Apocalypse

The empty missile tubes of the USS Birmingham echoed eerily as the subtle changes of the pressure caused the tubes to ring. Captain Samuel Van Buren felt yet another chill crawl up his spine as he conducted yet another inspection. The ballistic missile submarine's depth in the ocean cut down the radiation to almost negligible, but constant patrols of the sub's interior had to be done to make sure that radiation levels were gauged to the minute to be aware of any sudden rise. "So much for returning from that JAG investigation…Commander." Captain Sam Van Buren commented, wryly as he used the PRM 9000. "The only place that has any hope for us is the Antarctic. We might as well head that way."

Commander Sturgis Turner looked over at the ship's captain, nodding. "It was the Russians who launched first?" he queried.

"According to what we know." Sam stated as he checked yet another ballistic missile tube. "We got a BMDCOM Launch order and we let them fly. Evidently the events at Sakhalin spiraled out of hand." He snorted sarcastically. "And now we're stuck for our lifetime in a metal tube. Stinks…doesn't it?"

Sturgis had no choice but to agree that things were absolutely crazy and the survivors were the ones that had to reap the noxious benefits of the idiotic politicians who brought the world to this very point. At least the politicians were dead or Sturgis would have been helpful enough to help the mobs hang the bloody bastards.

The USS Birmingham would have to head for McMurdo Station. At least down there, the extreme cold weather would keep the radiation levels down. So when the radiation inspection was finished. Captain Van Buren would point the nose of the Birmingham south and head for the Antarctic. The Northern Hemisphere was finished for civilization for the foreseeable future. "So any news of any survivors? Any other submarines that survived the attack?" Sturgis thought to ask.

"We've been held to strict radio silence. But I'm sure if there are any other survivors with subs, you can be pretty sure that they're all at McMurdo." The intensity of the radiation from 14000 nuclear weapons being exploded would have more than likely turned any surface ship into floating tombs no matter how shielded they were from the radiation; it would have eventually seeped through to levels that would be lethal.

The crews had been trained to compartmentalize, but the simple knowledge that their loved ones were gone, vaporized and that they were now the survivors in a new hellish existence on a planet whose atmosphere was lethal to human life, was causing crew members to psychologically fragment.

Cheyenne Mountain Complex, Cheyenne Mountain, Wyoming. Office Commanding Officer,

North American Aerospace Defense Command

Beth watched the flickering screens showing absolutely nothing. Cheyenne Mountain had been hardened against nuclear missiles but the CCTV sets were vaporized in the ensuing missile hits sixteen weeks ago. The shelter was equipped with enough food to last those who were in the shelter over 10 years. But eventually, the radiation would lessen to the point where they would be able to clear out of the shelter and head for someplace where they would be able to be safe.

Their hope was to amalgamate their position with Mount Storm, but Mount Storm had been radio-silent since their only communiqué in which they related the stance that they were going independent. General Stafford was sympathetic to Boone's position however they felt that the best position for survival was to form the two shelters into an North American Alliance. But that all depended on the stance that Mt. Storm was going to take. The High Council for Cheyenne had maintained its military structure, but Mt. Storm was no longer military though its two highest ranking officers were Rear Admirals.

Colonel Mitscher, their resident CBRN specialist was always figuring things and trying to determine the best time they could vacate the shelter and head for Mount Storm. BMDCOM was still up enabling them to communicate with their missile submarines and attack subs which were all heading for McMurdo Station and that would consolidate their position in the Arctic.

Russian Missile Command, Somewhere in the Urals, 16 weeks Post-Apocalypse

Marshal Goprov looked at the flickering lights. The darkened shelter was rapidly becoming claustrophobic as the length of time in the shelter increased. Up at the surface was a swirling radioactive mess of death so Marshal Goprov considered himself lucky that he was locked in a subterranean bunker.

Lieutenant Senior Rank Yosif Druganin snapped to attention in front of him. "Comrade Marshal, the radiation inspection is complete."

"Very Well, Comrade Lieutenant. How are the rations?" Marshal Goprov nodded to the Lieutenant.

"The rations are protected and we have plenty for the staff to eat. We should be good for at least one year." His countenance was earnest. "Has Mother Russia survived?"

"I doubt it. The October Revolution is finished, my friend. We must make peace or suffer utter devastation and death. As distasteful as it is we must make friends with the Americans; what survivors there may be." The Marshal paused a long moment and then squared his shoulders. "We will have a meeting…that we can discuss what we do next."

"Yes, Comrade. I will assemble the people."

Ballistic Missile Submarine October Revolution; Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean

Captain Senior Rank Arkady Semyanov gazed balefully at the readouts on the radiation counts. The ballistic missile submarine October Revolution was well sealed, but they needed to get out of the Northern Hemisphere or they would be running into problems. "Helmsman Boris Bogdanovich… Make heading one four seven degrees due south. We will go to McMurdo Station and ask the Americans to take pity on us." Like the other Russian missile submarines, their missile tubes were empty and posed no threat to anyone else. Of course there were American hunter-killer submarines, however those would also be considering the situation and not shooting unless there were hostile acts. Their transit south should be without incident, the Captain thought.

Helmsman Boris Bogdanovich Kamov did as asked without question as was the rule in the Russian Navy, the Voyenno-morskoy Flot Rossiyskoy Federatsii. If the Captain wanted to go to McMurdo Station, McMurdo Station was the destination he would get.

Mt Storm Emergency Facility, Somewhere in the Blue Mountains of Virginia – Armory – 18 weeks.

Animal slowly ate some fried fish and eggs, the arrangement was rather gross, but the taste of the fish and the eggs were flavorsome; it kept people's strength up so that tasks around the vast expanse of the shelter were done. The fish farms were thriving at least and the corn-bread was delicious. This diet of vegetarian with a little fish thrown in was something Harm could tolerate. Animal on the other hand wanted to sink his teeth into a juicy burger but with cattle stocks limited to milk, it would be foolish to kill a cow for meat. Two or three bulls were being kept for breeding the cattle, so that eventually they would have enough cattle to start a farm on the surface when conditions were right.

After Animal had shown in the cafeteria that he wouldn't hesitate to draw on those who would seek to become anarchists, the cafeteria had quieted down, but he knew that there was an undercurrent of tension in the shelter and it was only a matter of time before it erupted yet again into violence. The stress of the situation had resulted in psychosomatic symptoms of phantom pain in his shoulders and Lia took the opportunities she had to slip from the maternity ward to massage his back, which resulted in some lovemaking between the two of them. As far as Animal was concerned, Lia was his wife, no matter what the hell had happened to their certificate of marriage in the now radiated remains of their home and nothing Boone could say would strip that from them.

The only way that they could stay sane was the fact that the partners they had were fixed between the group that they were in. Lia only was intimate with Harm or Animal, Jen took only the three: Harm, Animal or Victor to her bed and Meg only spent time with Animal or Harm as she was unfamiliar with Victor. Lisa on the other hand, like Jen, was fine with all three but only those three. The other two, Danny and Gerald were intimate with Amy and Katrina and that was it.

Meg had spoken to Lia about the fact that the two of them could only stand Harm or Animal's hands on them or intercourse with only those two. Lia wasn't thrilled with the fact that Animal was able to be intimate with all four women, but the Boone Rule was that the women had to have the equal chance of getting pregnant. The men not being able to pair off with the woman of their choice in a single monogamous relationship was wearing on the men as well though some men really didn't give a shit and welcomed the chance to play around. Lia and Meg had come to an agreement that the two of them understood that they were the primary ones in Harm and Animal's lives with Lia taking precedence in Animal's life and Meg taking precedence in Harm's. Lisa and Jen were fine with that too and thus intimate life didn't become fractious. And there was good news in that Lisa found out that she was in the family way and genetic testing proved that it was Victor's. The genetic testing came about after Sandra in the general maternity ward complained about the fact that women were unable to find out who the father was.

Mt Storm Emergency Facility, Somewhere in the Blue Mountains of Virginia – Tunnel 5

Simone looked over to see someone stepping out of the fog. He recognized her as one of the ones who had come with the JAG staff, but he paused a moment. "So…what do you want?" he asked the woman.

The woman gave him a bitter smile. "Nothing that YOU can give me, but I hear you're planning on starting an insurrection." She snorted as she walked around him. "You think you can make that happen all on your own? Even your friends are starting to desert you."

"What makes you think I'm going to tell you anything? For all I know you're a mole looking for inside information." Simone said, his hand going to his pocket.

The woman's eyes followed his motion like a hawk. "I wouldn't if I were you." She gave him a cold stare; a challenge to a guy like Simone who feared nothing.

"So what you going to do if…" his body tensed up as he brought the knife out in a snake-like S-strike; whereas the woman sidestepped the stabbing motion, grabbed his wrist in one motion, twisted his arm painfully behind his back causing him to drop the knife with a cry of pain and snapped his wrist causing him to scream and picked up the knife with one motion.

"That wasn't smart." She said coldly. "Now you're at a disadvantage until your wrist heals." Footsteps coming in at a run punctuated the backup for Simone. "I could kill you right now and leave your carcass to rot here. I know you've been making rebellious threats. So I can do one of two things, I can join your group and help you defeat Boone, or I can hand you into Boone…" She brandished the knife "…your choice really. But really, you have all to gain and everything to lose. Because what's going to happen if I turn you into Boone? You'll either get turned out into the radiation or they'll kill you and you think Nakamura is going to hesitate to pull the trigger?"

"What's in it…for you…" Simone said, gritting his teeth. The wrist was definitely broken and the edges of the bones were grating against each other, sending shooting pains through his entire arm.

"You get rid of a few people that I want gotten rid of…"

Cheyenne Mountain Complex, Cheyenne Mountain, Wyoming. Office Commanding Officer,

North American Aerospace Defense Command

Lieutenant Commander Beth Hawkes lay down on her bed wondering what the future entailed for herself. After the nuclear exchange, the surface was unlivable and they were stuck here for the next few years until the radiation levels had dissipated enough to make venturing out an action in the realm of possibility. They had made communication with Crow Rock. The SECNAV and his aide were there in command of the bunker. His aide was some woman named Manotti or something like that.

But the one person she wanted to make contact with was her former aviator with her on the Seahawk. They had gone through hell together…and frankly she missed him.

"Lieutenant Commander Hawkes. General Stafford would like to speak with you." The soft voice of the Air Force Master Sergeant interrupted her rest. There were no knocks on the doors any longer. Things were too urgent to wait for military protocol. "Crow Rock is back on and General Stafford wishes for you to be there when the communication takes place. He needs to talk with the SECNAV as he is the ranking civilian leadership".

"Got it." Beth said as she got up out of her bed and scrambled into some semblance of uniform and headed out to check in with Gen. Stafford. Evidently sleep could wait.

Mt Storm Emergency Facility, Somewhere in the Blue Mountains of Virginia, Maternity Ward, 18 weeks Post-Apocalypse

Lia was showing; that much she was sure of. "I'm getting fat." She said miserably at Animal as she stood in front of the mirror and turned around "…and it's your entire fault." And it was early in the pregnancy too. Animal knew that it was the hormones and not the actual fact that he had made her pregnant that was causing her severe mood swings. The only thing he could do was hold her while she cried and he wrapped his arms around her. "Damn you…" she said softly. "You make me pregnant…and I have to be the one bearing our child. I wish you could be swollen like a medicine ball for nine months. Dammit!" There wasn't any answer to that rhetorical statement.

Animal looked over at Dr. Parkman who replied. "Tosh. She's under a lot of stress. That's probably why she's lashing out."

"Do you mind? I'm in the room." Lia snapped irritated at the fact that the two seemed to be engaged in a conversation about her with her in the room. The doctor and her husband seemed good sense to be embarrassed or she would have exploded. Then she melted. "I don't want to be laid up for forty weeks. I don't want to be in a situation like this…" her tears made Animal reach out for her again. "I don't like feeling helpless…" she wailed. "And I'm stuck in this damned facility for the rest of my life with my only damned job being a glorified fucking breeder."

Again…there wasn't an answer for that, because the unpleasant truth was that it was the absolute truth of their situation.

Mt Storm Emergency Facility, Somewhere in the Blue Mountains of Virginia – Tunnel 5

The woman looked coldly at the retreating backs of the men whom she conversed with. She had certainly given them something to think about. So it was going to be every man for himself, was it? Well, it was certainly time for her to think about herself. If the rest of the people she used to consider her friends were going to betray her and get some gratification, she'd make them pay for it.

Tunnel 5, ever since she had overheard a group of the men whisper something about Tunnel 5 she had spent every spare moment of time that she could down there waiting to meet up with one of them. She had almost given up on them but she was in luck today and managed to corral Simone and talk some sense into the little vicious bastard or he would get himself killed before he did any good. The good thing about puppets was that they did what they were told if she yanked their strings with the appropriate deftness.

She hated Tom Boone with a seething hatred that went back to her first encounter with him. She thought he was absolutely soul-less, inordinately harsh on his subordinates and now that they were in a life-death situation; she thought he was inhuman expecting everyone to fulfill the roles of breeders for the new human race. She was not going to toe Boone's line; not willingly, and there was no way that she was going to go to the jail or suffer Boone's punishment for sedition/treason against the leadership, she was sure that the bastard would think up of the most degrading, de-humanizing torture that he could think of.

USS Birmingham SSBN-588, Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean, 18 weeks Post-Apocalypse

Lieutenant Commander Will Drescher came up to Captain Van Buren. "Sir, we're headed in the right direction." With the EMP blowing out the satellite for navigation, they had to manually feel out their directional heading by actively pinging the surrounding area and trying to ascertain their location on a subsurface topographical map. "But how do we know when we get there? We're essentially travelling blind." The helm officer had a point. The sub was headed in the right direction. The hull sensors of the boat were reading a steady decrease in water temperature. But if they didn't surface, they'd run the risk of running into the Antarctic continent and sinking.

Sam looked at the crew who watched him intently awaiting his decision. Did they risk surfacing and throwing up the periscope to see if they could find out where they were directionally, or did they continue to travel blind. He took a deep breath. "Surface…periscope depth" was the command.

Commander Sturgis Turner watched Sam and the crew. The crew believed in him and would go through hell for Captain Van Buren. And he realized…that the right choice that he had made was to go to JAG. He wouldn't cut it as a submarine commander; he was just too rigid an officer who played by the book. He knew that he had alienated his friends at JAG and that he had been too harsh with Bud. But all that didn't matter now. He was stuck on a ballistic missile submarine with nothing to do other than to watch everyone do their job while he had no job left as an officer. He had to make a decision one way or the other. Was he a part of the Birmingham or not? Coming to a decision he walked up to Sam and snapped to attention. Sam awaited his statement. Sturgis stated calmly and succinctly "Sir." He said. "Permission to join the crew permanently."

"Welcome aboard, Sturgis." Sam smiled. "You're home now."

Mt Storm Emergency Facility, Somewhere in the Blue Mountains of Virginia – Armory – 18 weeks Post-Apocalypse

Meg shuddered, her left leg up against the back of the bed as Harm thrust into her over and over again as they brought themselves to completion. The warmth of his seed rushing into her womb punctuated the climax as she heard Harm groan softly. "Oh…yes…fill me." She softly said as she kissed him on the lips.

Harm collapsed onto her body as he reached around her and enfolded her in his arms as he looked at her with affection. "That was fun." He grinned at her and then returned the kiss, nibbling on her lower lip causing Meg to moan.

Meg looked at him archly. "Yeah…breeding was never so fun." The light sarcasm in her tone caused Harm to look at her with concern.

"Are you OK with this?" He asked cautiously.

"Not really, but this is life after the Apocalypse." Meg said, her tone indicating that she was resigned to their existence and resultant love-life. "We have to do a lot of things that we didn't think we'd have to do before. At least it's with people we love." It was an unwritten rule of thumb that Harm didn't ask what Meg did with Animal, nor did Animal ask Lia what she had done with Harm before Lia was out of the rotation with Animal's child in her womb. "I don't think I'd be sane if I was shared out amongst the entire male population of the shelter." She admitted softly. "It's different with only two partners. At least I know you both love me and will protect me and likewise in return."

The harsh truth of the matter was that things had to change in this manner to ensure the survival of humanity. It would be like this for generations and Harm wondered if monogamy would ever return. Would the generations post-Apocalypse be so used to the idea of sharing partners that marriage would become an extinct performance of the past? She started stroking him and he responded and their conversation was placed on the shelf as they resumed making love.

Ballistic Missile Submarine October Revolution; Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, 18 weeks Post-Apocalypse

Captain Semyanov looked at his first officer. "Surface to periscope depth, we must take a reading of where we are. Fifteen minutes maximum at periscope depth, then we dive again regardless of whether we have the reading or not. Count timers at periscope depth." The October Revolution like the American counterpart was reliant on satellite navigation and had post-EMP had to manually find their direction in this post-nuclear holocaust world. Their destination much like their American counterpart was McMurdo Station. At least there, they would be much less radiation and they could start a whole new civilization based on mutual cooperation and peace. Maybe Captain Semyanov mused, it would be a whole new epoch in the course of humanity. Perhaps they would make inroads into a joint society where everyone would work together and actually become the human race instead of fragmented countries that had nothing in common other than war.

"Comrade Captain. You look so pensive, my friend." His first officer Captain Second Rank Viktor Ivanovich Gruschev.

"We have no weapons. We are nothing but a peasant's boat at this moment. Our only hope of survival is the American base at Antarctica. We wish nothing but peace. I am glad this war is over, Viktor Ivanovich. We must make a new life at the bottom of the world." Captain Semyanov replied as he sighed looking up at the ceiling of the sub.

"Fifteen minutes. Mark time!" yelled a sailor as he noted the depth gauge. "We have fifteen minutes from now! Start calculations!"

"Start calculations aye!"

At the fifteen minute count, Captain Semyanov said. "Dive! Dive!" And the helmsman pointed the sub's nose down. "Radiation inspection!"

"Radiation inspection, aye!" was the response from the radiological team that Captain Gruschev had set up. The calculations were brought up to the Captain and checked then the Captain ordered a direction bearing course change.

"We are good. The radiation levels are going down at the surface, but it is still dangerous to linger there for long." Captain Gruschev informed Captain Semyanov as the latter nodded. "We humans have done major damage to our world. A pity we were so short-sighted."

"How are our rations?" Captain Semyanov asked.

"We are good for another six months, however we need to hope that the rations and hydroponic gardens are extensive at the South Pole or we will suffer starvation." Gruschev indicated to his superior and friend.

Semyanov pulled at his beard contemplatively as he watched the crew guide their missile sub through the depths of the ocean. "I pity those who are in the middle of the irradiated continents. Comrade. They will be running a gauntlet unless they are in the bunkers. Helmsman, level off at 900 feet." The creaking of the hull indicated the pressure against the hollow tube that they were all travelling in.

"900 feet, Aye, Comrade Captain!"

Mt Storm Emergency Facility, Somewhere in the Blue Mountains of Virginia – Armory – 18 weeks Post-Apocalypse

Jen looked over at Animal with deeply-lidded languid brown eyes. Despite the age-difference, Jen thought the admiral looked distinguished, though sweat-beaded and hair tousled, the admiral probably thought that he didn't look very distinguished at the very moment. "So…how was that?" Jen asked when she could catch her breath, teasing him with her trademark impish grin.

Animal, when he could reply, looked at her in return with a shy smile. "You know how to give this old man a workout."

"Hush, you're not old. You're not much older than Harm." She said, running her hand along Animal's bare back.

Animal looked sadly at her letting out a deep breath. "You could have someone much younger than myself."

"Shhh…the only people I can tolerate touching me are you, Victor and Harm and if monogamy is supposed to go out the window in this post-nuke devastation, then you three are the only ones I want to make love to." Jen replied, her mood starting to match her partner's. "At least this way, I still feel like I'm in a committed relationship. And you're not a bad catch, neither is Harm nor Victor." She paused, then gave him another impish grin. "Besides…Lia has informed me that you know how to satisfy a woman." She smirked and laughed as she saw a crimson blush flush his skin. Humor was what they had to use to tolerate a polygamous sexual relationship after this nuclear war. If Boone wanted polygamy to be used to further the human race, then so be it, but it would be on her terms. She crawled up his body again and whispered huskily. "Now…admiral…" she said softly. "Love me again…"

Animal swore that he would get her good for that bit of information that Lia had given her. And Jen smiled satiatedly as he did just that, nestling into his arms.

Mt Storm Emergency Facility, Somewhere in the Blue Mountains of Virginia

The JAG crew didn't know where she was. She had managed to locate quarters far enough away from the people she had come with and they were too busy screwing around that they didn't notice her absence from their quarters. Since they had moved into the armory, she had stayed away from that location. Her routine was meeting up with Simone and the rest of his crew and cultivating plans for open rebellion. All they needed was to get some more committed people. She had seen the JAG crew around and every time she had felt that stab of betrayal even more. It twisted the knife in a little deeper and it made her hate them even more. Just who did they think they were. She would have been a Privileged if she had acceded to Boone's request. But she felt that was nothing more than whoring.

The other admiral was no better than Boone. Despite his high and mighty Medal which was nothing more than a bauble now because the entire honor that went with it was now ashes at the surface of the planet. There was nothing for people to adulate him about. Who were they defending? Who would venerate who in this new reality? And now he was just as culpable as the rest. He was fucking Meg and Jen and Lisa…now. If he had any honor he'd have abstained from sex with anyone but his wife. They were all equal but the Privileged were behaving as though they were still operating under a military structure with a few major alterations. If the world were still normal, they'd be all under charges of conduct unbecoming.

And the commander she used to work with? He was doing the same to the same three women. How honorable was that? Ever since that Meg-bitch had run into his arms, his eyes weren't on her, but on Meg. And now they were copulating every chance they got with Boone's assent. That fact twisted her innards in a bitter stew. And then that bitch from the zoomies was promoted to the Privileged by Boone himself. Though that Air Force bitch-in-heat, Lisa something or the other, was now pregnant with Gunny's child and was moved to the maternity ward, just as Lia was.

She smiled coldly to herself; to think that one time, she was constrained by the laws, rules and regulations of the United States military - not now. If they were going to turn against her, she would make certain that she came out on top.