Team Bonding and an Intelligence Report

Your target is one of the classified weapons caches that Mills had enough clearance to know about. It wasn't actually that far away, at just 7 miles west but they had to drive slowly and use a map as a guide. You had to admit it was a rather dull trip.

Amelia eventually pipes up though. "You know, every team should have a name. Like Team 1, Team 2 is so boring. Team 2 could be, like, Team Phoenix or something and Team 3 could be Team Falcon." You chuckled at that.

"Oh yeah? And what would Team 1 be?" You asked.

You hear Garcia mutter under her breath from the front to herself, but you can just about overhear. "How about Team Fuckable." You have to stifle a laugh right then and there. She sure wasn't wrong, though.

"Team Lion!" Amelia says excitedly.

"It's not bad," says Mills with an approving nod. "And having names for each team makes it easier to remember and gives everyone a sense of belonging."

"And," Garcia said more loudly now with a growing grin, "Since lions have a harem of fierce lionesses in their pride, it also appropriate as you are the ruler of this Team, sir, and also own all of us girls that know how to fight and shoot."

You hadn't considered that, but the idea made you smirk as Amelia's face reddened in the process. She did not object to what was said or decided to offer another team name suggestion though, which implied quite a bit on its own as her eyes got lost in thought.

Mills just joined her fellow soldier, grinning at the thought as well and probably remembering her favorite parts of their sexual encounter from the night before at that very moment. "Let's talk about it when we are back. I'm definitely not opposed to it."

About 30 minutes later, a couple of silent stops where they tried to lay low to let a passing horde move past them, and one crude but effective use of the cal 50 by Amelia to mow down a wave of zombies, that had gotten too dangerously close for comfort, you arrive at a fairly isolated warehouse that seemed to have been deliberately designed to look nondescript.

"Sir, we're here," Garcia informs you.

"Mills, radio Team 2. Tell them that we made it.

"Roger that sir," She responded before grabbing the mouthpiece. "Team 1 to Team 2, over."

After a few seconds of delay, you hear Jeremy's voice, "Team 2, I hear you, over."

"We have reached checkpoint 1, over."

"Okay, got it. We are still a few minutes away. Had to take another route just now through the smoldering ruins from last night's fire. Over."

"Roger, hear you loud and clear," LT Mills said slowly, her expression seemingly in the middle of some calculations. "Anything noteworthy about your surroundings, over?"

"Yes, actually," Jeremy responded, his tone growing somber. "it's hard to say how many we are looking at, but based on all the burnt remains and the scale of the carnage, at least a few thousand walkers were destroyed by the blaze, over."

That made you raise an eyebrow, the implications that a large horde was wiped out filling your mind with plenty of questions. Mills clearly agreed with the way she opened her mouth immediately.

"Team 2 Leader, could I speak with Sergeant Zhang, over?"

"Roger that, Lieutenant, stand by," Jeremy said before cutting off.

A few seconds later, they heard a slightly accented voice emerge from their radio "I hear you, LT, over."

"Read you loud and clear, Sergeant," Mills responded. "Can you confirm that most of this undead horde was killed by flames based on what you see from the remains, over?"

"Negative, sir," The medical specialist replied. "While all were injured by the flames, the heads of all the zombies we have seen were also clearly crushed, stabbed, or shot at varying degrees. So, based on what I have seen, I suspect this fire was set on purpose sir, and that while it spread around when the flammable walking corpses stumbled around the neighborhood, it also weakened or ended enough of them that whomever started the fire was able to regroup and then return to finish the job, over."

Your eyes widened in surprise at the assessment as you realized immediately that, even if the fire had injured much of the horde, for a group to be not just skilled and numerous enough to finish off a few thousand walkers but willing to do so was definitely a well-oiled fighting machine that felt secure and confident in their own badassery.

And that was potentially either really good for you or really, really bad...

You snapped out of those thoughts soon though, your eyebrows raised further when you notice a smile of pride on the Lieutenant's face in spite of the concern in her eyes.

"Roger that, Sergeant. Keep your eyes open. We will start loading up the Stryker with as many weapons and ammo as soon as we can, now that we are at the weapon's cache. Do you have what you need to execute Plan 88, over?"

You raised an eyebrow at that one, wondering what that code meant for the tight-knit Special Forces squad. And after a quick glance, you could see that a similar expression of dread and pride had crossed Garcia's features, while Amelia was watching the entire exchange with fascination; eyes engrossed on the good lieutenant and her radio.

"Affirmative, over," Zhang replied firmly, her tone of voice rising.

"Then you have Green Light to proceed. Good luck, Sergeant. Lieutenant Mills out."

She turned off the connection and stared at it for a while, her face deep in thought. You were about to ask for details, but Amelia beat you to the punch when she whistled, sounding impressed.

"It's so incredible how the members of your squad have learned to operate so well as a team, and that you all know how to help each other once a code word is used," She said with a look of awe. "I didn't get all of that, but it sounded like you have contingency plans for many emergency situations and that's just amazing."

Mills smiled at her, clearly pleased with the words of the enthusiastic young woman. "Glad you approve. And yes, our squad has learned to fight well as a team over time. I can't claim the credit for coming up with most of our unit-specific contingency plans we ended up memorizing, though. So, if we see her again, you should really thank Steris, one of the squad members we got separated from, for that one," She assured her, a very fond look on her face. "We didn't originally want to go through the hassle of making a new and secretive list of emergency responses for us to approach that was independent of standard protocol, but Steris was convinced it would not just help a lot when the need arose, especially if we needed to go radio silent during a long mission, but that it would help us bond quite a bit."

Mills chuckled and rolled her eyes playfully. "And then, not one year later I jump in excitement when my blood-sister asked me to be her maid of honor and that was after I had already, quite literally, taken a bullet for her. So, I am afraid it sounds like that smug overachiever was right despite my best efforts to prove her wrong. Unbelievable."

Garcia laughed at that. "Remind me, was that before, or after the infiltration mission where our dear Intelligence Sergeant managed to walk you through what you needed to do thanks to that earpiece in order to trick that Neo-ISIS terrorist leader into sitting on a live grenade? I still can't believe I was stuck babysitting those trust fund brats until the chopper could get there and had to miss out on that mission, all the while Steris and you managed to pull off something that incredibly crazy."

You almost jaw dropped to the floor in shock while Amelia looked even more amazed by everything she was listening to.

The lieutenant scoffed but her tone was clearly one of amusement. "Before. And you have only yourself to blame for that one, you know. Trained and battle-tested as you were and stupid as that law may be, you were warned not to drink during our 2031 New Year’s Eve Party back at base and Captain Dorne...was...right...there," She said in a deadpanned voice, stressing the words in between pauses. "You are lucky all she did was **** you to miss out on dangerous thrills while guarding some rich assholes."

Garcia pouted. "Fine, fine but you are not wrong about those laws being stupid! Seriously, how the hell could I be considered old enough to die for my country and to kill enemies of the state but still be too young to drink?! The sheer lunacy..."

At that, Mills snorted, but her smile of mischief soon reached her penetrating eyes. "Could have been worse. Instead of guarding rich assholes from a respectful distance, you could have been in need of cleaning up the literal pieces of an exploded, fanatically murderous ass from your uniform."

The Private's smile broke into a grin and she started cracking up in laughter so much that you were actually able to quickly see a few tears forming around her eyes. "Oh, good one, Ma'am. Good one indeed."

You blinked rapidly as you struggled to quickly take everything in from their banter. But soon you smiled softly, enjoying the glimpse at the deep bond between the two, fueled by their off-duty antics and their on-duty trials. Then, Amelia sighed.

"I wish I had close friends as cool as you two," She whispered, just loudly enough for you to be able to hear the longing in her voice.

You glanced at her at that, understanding why that was such a relatable statement...and then you blinked, suddenly wondering if you could make that possible for Amelia with a well-worded command. But then you shook your head and focused back on the task at hand.

"Fascinating as this all is, we should cut the chatter and start getting our hands on as many weapons as we can," You remarked...before hesitating, then shrugging. "After you answer me this: What's Plan 88?"

A/N: Well, I hope you enjoyed the developments in this chapter. And of course, the banter between the team. Had fun writing it and using it as a springboard for future references and plot points so I would love to hear what you think of it. And if you have any questions after this, just let me know and I will reply as soon as I can.

Thanks for reading!