They spent the rest of the day repacking their bags and gear, even their sleeping bags and roll-up mats. Spare clothes for the two of them fit into a small duffel bag along with a sampling of their toiletries, but that was dwarfed by the array of survival gear Ronnie was pushing them to take. A large medkit, their "family size" hanging water filter, purification tabs, lanterns, two sets of night vision goggles, wearable strobe beacons the size of Rebecca's fist that could flash in visible light or IR... Chrissie checked everything off a list as they loaded the back of the SUV Amira insisted on loaning them. Just that much alone would have filled Rebecca's old car to the brim, but a full half of the rear cargo remained.

A good thing, too, with the mid-sized arsenal that got stuffed into it. Felicia, Patrick's and Sam's M4 carbines, Christine's shotgun, three big green waterproof ammunition cans, and a consolidated parts kit all went in the back. Hell, Patrick even loaded a short chainsaw, white with an orange plastic scabbard over the blade, along the rear edge of the trunk space. Chrissie cracked a joke about "them zombie hillbillies", but he swore up down and sideways that it was for downed trees or poles. Spots were reserved for the Tavor behind the center armrest and Sam's Vector SMG in the front passenger footwell, where it would fit tidily with its stock folded — but they'd wait until morning for those. It took Sam reminding Rebecca about Chrissie's second shotgun to get her to stop worrying about what the other couple could arm themselves with if there was trouble overnight.

Apparently, Landry and Epstein were transporting extra fuel and a vehicular toolkit to the armory rendezvous in a Humvee, and everything would get redistributed between the two "civilian-ish" SUVs there. Rebecca sure hoped the gas cans were sealed well so she didn't get queasy again, and wondered if any of the tools were ironically from the armory in the first place.

Rebecca had even adjusted the driver's seat and mirrors and taken the SUV for a test drive around the compound. At least, she did after the initial surprise of the ripped out ignition, replaced with a military style stop/run/start switch duct taped to the dash. Epstein's handiwork, no doubt — Sam would have strung the wires more meticulously.

After all that... there wasn't much to do but wait. Rebecca and Sam double checked their packing lists, their personal gear... everything was still ready, just like it was a few hours before. Rufus enjoyed some extra playtime with them outside, which also helped assuage a little guilt about leaving him alone for a few days. They had dinner with Ronnie, which doubled as a map review session sprinkled with reminders to keep each other safe, then briefly stopped by Jaime's memorial. Rebecca wasn't sure whether it was for some abstract feeling of comfort thinking about one more important person who would want them to succeed — his blessing, as it were — or maybe even just to let him know where they were going, impractical as it may be. It just felt like the right thing to do before they left for a while, one last to-do item before they retired for the night and tried to quiet their anticipation enough to rest.

**

Rhonda settled into a chair after returning to her apartment, dragging the footrest closer with her toe. It was one of those Ikea specials with a wooden frame shaped like two copies of the number 5 without the top crossbars and cushioned fabric between. Not a proper recliner, but pretty comfy. Better than a folding camp chair, and almost as portable. A USMC flag hung on the wall, in her thoughts even though it was behind her, because Rebecca and Sam had brought it back for her from that shop they hit at the mall — along with the Stars and Stripes Ronnie knew was fluttering in a spotlight out front.

A Sharpie marker danced back and forth across Ronnie's fingers as she twirled it, a pensive habit she picked up over the many idle hours of her career. Patience, and sleeping any time and anywhere were never directly in the training manuals back at Basic, but they were definitely core skills.

She still remembered many of the times she saw a young up-and-comer go out leading a patrol for the first time. They started to blend together after the first dozen or so, but some stood out. Most of those were boring and uneventful, which she considered synonymous with "successful". Some went kinetic and still turned out okay. Most of the kids came back, sometimes a little worse for wear.

A few didn't.

No matter how much she tried to shelve those memories over the years, they'd be the ones that she could never entirely get rid of. Negative confirmation bias, Rebecca called it. She told Ronnie it was good to label containing those thoughts as "shelving", not "burying", that using the different words changed how Ronnie's mind would process the act. A few years of undergrad and some unfairly traumatic experiences, and she was already better at that than any VA shrink had ever been — not that traumatic experiences were ever fair. Ronnie still wondered if Rebecca had clued into the parallels for "burying".

Fuck that, no putting that verb in the same sentence as any of her surviving friends' names, especially not those two kids.

Her list of rationalizations why they were going to be just fine was longer than a triplicate nonstandard equipment request form, but the doubts still lingered. She always hated not knowing what she didn't know about. Not being blind to your own skill gaps, avoiding that was ingrained quite early — but knowing there may or may not be threats out there you hadn't spotted yet. Schroedinger's badguys, to borrow another phrase from the younglings.

She sighed, glaring out the window for another few minutes. She'd already spotted a grey hair last month, this was just going to give her more.

Eventually she reached for the end table next to her, picking up a pile of handwritten notes to busy herself with the latest updates from the day's data burst. She needed to just stay in her lane, heed her own advice to Rebecca about trusting in people beyond just their good intentions.

At least she'd been able to see to Rebecca's coaching personally, before finding herself stuck here juggling discussions with Amira, those two government agents blowing through town, Fairbanks, and a patchwork garrison whose morale could be wildly tipped just as much by a stray bullet or a batch of cookies. What a joke of fate, to basically be in command but still have her stripes, not an officer's bars.

Well. Things that weren't officially her responsibility, being her problem... at least her career had gotten her thoroughly used to that.

**

Sam rolled over to face Rebecca the third or fourth time she heard her toss and turn. "Yeah Remy, me neither."

Rebecca chuckled in the darkness. "I swear I was tired twenty minutes ago."

"And then our brains stopped having to tell our bodies how to move around upright, and had time to keep us awake instead."

"Mmm." There was another rustle of bedding. "Do you think we're okay?"

It took Sam only a brief moment to decipher that Rebecca didn't mean their relationship, but instead was opening up a two-sided version of "are you okay". "I mean, given some latitude for the situation, yeah. The next few days could be terrible, or they could actually be too good."

"Yeah. I've been worrying about both extremes, really. We've prepared against the bad stuff, but... what happens if we find someone and they don't want to come back, or can't, right? Or maybe they're even safer there."

"That's crossed my mind a couple times. But hey, you know how it is. Whatever possible outcomes we imagine, it's gonna be something else."

Rebecca blew a little raspberry sound to show what she thought of that before Sam continued.

"Heh. Yeah, how do you think I feel, coming from the hard sciences? That's kinda something else I've been mulling too. You know... we're off at college, getting our degrees, keeping our grades up... lots of living for other people's expectations. Then, poof. That's still going on a little bit these days, like everyone expects us to pull our own weight, but..."

"It's different, I get it."

"Yeah. And maybe we're about to dig that back up again."

Rebecca wasn't sure how heavy the academic expectations were in Sam's family, especially with her going into electrical engineering, and that brother hopefully still out towards Seattle being a software dev of some kind. Her own mom had never been overpowering about it, but it was always just assumed Rebecca would be going to college. There wasn't any real pressure towards one degree or another, in fact quite the opposite. Mom had urged her to apply to places with diverse offerings, lots of choices once she got there... actually sounding very similar to Sam's comment about things never being what you imagine ahead of time.

Well. Amen to that, those days.

Rebecca shifted her arm, finding Sam's shoulder first so she didn't poke her in the eye, then felt her way up towards Sam's hair and cheek. "Whatever happens, I'm glad we've got each other."

Sam nuzzled Rebecca's hand. "I like the way you said that. Sounds like you're finally getting that things aren't imbalanced in your favor."

"Oh, I know, Rosie. You still steal all the covers."

**

Once again, Sam's phone trilled them awake a little earlier than they'd have liked. They allowed themselves one snooze interval, and then groaned their way out of bed.

Everything had been laid out the night before, so it was a linear process dragging themselves to their road clothes, a little morning hygiene, then the one hot water bottle allocated to preparing an old-world instant breakfast... but hey, freeze-dried and rehydrated or not, eggs, sausage, potatoes and bell peppers were long-missed friends that helped get their day off on the right foot.

A quick wash of the dishes they used, leaving them to dry on a rack... Rebecca had the passing thought that someone else might have to put them away, or pick up the pajamas they left at the foot of the bed, if she and Sam didn't come back. She swallowed the rest of her tea in an attempt to wash those thoughts away and set the mug down on the counter with a little more determination than might have been needed.

That drew a sharp glance from Sam, but Rebecca dismissed it with a small head shake on the way to their gear on the dining table. "Just... squaring things away mentally. Save the penny."

Sam returned her smile at the joke. She probably knew digging wouldn't help any, that they should just forge ahead. Instead, she picked up her helmet, handed Rebecca's to her, then picked up her share of their remaining gear and bags. "Let's do this thing, Sparky."

She thought she saw a hint of color on Rebecca's cheeks at the use of the old nickname, and gave her a playful wink on the way to the door.

Christine and Patrick were downstairs, chatting with Leonard and Allison where they waited to see everyone off. After sleep good morning wishes were exchanged, Pat offered to drive to the armory, since Rebecca would be doing most of the rest. Who said chivalry was dead?

Speaking of which, Rebecca glanced around for their problematically noble defender and spotted him conferring with Rhonda and Landry. After a minute, both men snapped to attention and saluted Ronnie, who returned it and made her way farther up the line of Humvees. Rebecca nodded at to the men in greeting when they looked over, and returned to stacking the last of their provisions in the trunk.

Ronnie looped back several minutes later, waving to Patrick and Christine where they already sat in the front seats, approaching Rebecca and Sam where they were waiting for pre-departure hugs. Ronnie begrudged them that much, not hiding her survey of their gear as she stepped back.

"Well, be safe kids. Be back before curfew or you're grounded."

Sam grinned, and Rebecca just hugged Ronnie again before replying, "Okay, mama bear."

"God help you if that ever becomes my official call sign. You know I'll consider it your fault. Now c'mon, load up before everyone else is waiting on you."

Ah. Right. Talking about feelings time is over. Sam climbed into the SUV and scrambled across to the far seat, reaching to take the Tavor from Rebecca as she climbed in. Ronnie waited until she was buckling up to close the door, knocking on the thick polycarbonate window before stepping back to walk up the line of vehicles once more. Three Humvees leading the one black SUV... it occurred to Rebecca that might make them a bit more of a target until they split off from the formation, but it was a bit late to "second" guess things for what was far more than just the second time.

She watched Rhonda confer briefly with Garyn outside the second Humvee. Rebecca was definitely judging him for not riding in the lead vehicle if he was supposed to be so badass, even if it was a little hypocritical since she and Ronnie rode in a #2 vehicle as well. Once he climbed in, Ronnie waved the first vehicle forward, then to the black SUV again as Patrick followed the convoy past her. A minute later they were pulling up the ramp and out into the wilds yet again.