Character: Danny Green
Setting: Los Angeles, California - Between Seasons 2 and 3 (Immediately following O'Connor's story, although they don't need to be read together)
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Danny Green made his way through the crowd that was currently celebrating Michael O'Connor's homecoming and the arrival of the cure for the Red Flu, nodding to Wolf and Miller as he passed. The two men were standing to the side, apart from the group, clearly outsiders. Under other circumstances, Danny would have made their excuses and left. Pushing on to other areas of the city, checking safe zones and spreading the cure, offering to pick O'Connor up on their way back to the Nathan James.
But his business here was not yet done. And Danny strongly suspected that the success of this mission would depend on getting the assistance of someone who knew the current lay of the land.
Reaching his target, Danny waited until Mr. Williams - during the three hours since the TAC team arrived, Danny had yet to hear anyone refer to the man by his first name - was alone before approaching. "Sir, I need to make a stop at Firestone and Alameda. I was hoping that you could give me a little intel on the situation in that area."
"That was a tough neighborhood even before the Red Flu hit. Word is that most people fled." The man looked Danny up and down before continuing. "It would be better if you let one of us handle it. You'll stick out too much."
Danny smiled grimly, Frankie's voice floating through his head. As if a lily-ass Yankee like you would survive five minutes alone in Watts. Danny had managed more than five minutes, actually, spending a few shores leave in sunny California with Frankie rather than going home to snowy Connecticut. But they rarely stayed in Los Angeles long, instead making a quick pit stop for Frankie to see his mother and older siblings before heading for Palm Springs or San Diego. Picking whatever hotel grabbed their fancy. Spending their days by the pool and their nights at whatever club the bartender recommended.
A wave of grief flowed through Danny. Unlike for O'Connor, there would be no happy reunion for either Frankie or the Benz family.
"This isn't something I can delegate," Danny explained to Mr. Williams, deciding that honesty was the best approach. "I have a flag that I need to deliver."
Understanding crossed Mr. Williams' face and Danny wondered who he might have lost. O'Connor would hardly have been the only person around here to enlist immediately following high school and, even before the Red Flu, not all of those kids would have made it back. Before the man could respond, however, another voice cut in. "I'll take you."
Turning to face O'Connor senior, a man he had met only hours before, Danny hesitated. "I don't want to take you away from your son."
"You brought my son home," Paul O'Connor replied without hesitation. "Least I can do is help you do the same for another family."
Danny nodded, deciding that further protest would be deemed an insult. "Thank you. Let me know when you are ready to go."
Less than ten minutes later, Danny, Halsey, Wolf, Paul O'Connor, and a guy named Deandre were on their way through a maze of side streets, each of them carrying a CDC case filled with doses of the contagious cure. Danny noted the boarded up doors and windows, red Xs sprayed on streets, and piles of cars used to block intersections with a detached eye. The hellish vista having become hauntingly familiar.
"Did Castillo put these up?" Danny asked after the third time they paused to make their way around the edges of a barbed wire fence.
Deandre snorted. "Nah. That was the damn National Guard. The rat bastards fenced us in like pigs."
"You hold your tongue," Paul shot back and Danny felt a shiver go up his back. One that Halsey must have picked up on, inserting himself between Danny and the two men. Not for the first time since the Nathan James left St. Louis, Danny wished that Tex was with them. The man might be a complete pain-in-the-ass, but he was also damn good at reading people and smoothing over situations like this.
"Why? Because we might offend someone from the almighty Nathan James?" Deandre retorted.
"No," Paul replied, his tone not changing at all, and Danny suddenly knew where O'Connor got his ability to stay calm under pressure. "Because we're here to help Lieutenant Green inform a family that their son died finding a cure for the Red Flu. A cure that saved all of us. And you should have a little bit more respect for that sacrifice."
Deandre glanced at Danny before looking away. "Sorry."
"We've seen some pretty bad things," Danny said quietly. A peace offering, but also the truth. "I imagine you have too."
"Your guy. How did he die?" Deandre asked, an olive branch of his own.
Danny thought that he was prepared but now, faced with actually answering the question, he found that he wasn't. Maybe he never would be. "We needed to refuel after we left the Arctic with the materials that Doctor Scott needed to develop a cure, but there was a Russian battlecruiser after us that we couldn't shake long enough to put in anywhere. We found a cruise ship floating in the Atlantic. It was one of the quarantine ships that were sent out. Everyone was dead." The other two men nodded. Italy wasn't the only country to have tried - and failed - to save people by putting them out to sea. "We boarded to drain their fuel and gather supplies. Benz got exposed."
"You going to give the cure to them?" Paul O'Connor asked after a moment. "The Russians?"
Not the question that Danny was expecting, still caught in the memories of Benzo's last moments.
Thankfully, Wolf responded. "President Michener has already sent planes to Europe and China, and the Navy has ships in both the Atlantic and Pacific. Just a matter of time before the cure spreads across the globe."
Paul nodded. "Good."
They rounded another corner and Deandre stopped. "That's Firestone."
Danny stared in shock. Before them was ... nothing. A crater that stretched the width of the road, both sides lined with twisted and burned cars, fractured buildings, and steel wire fence. This wasn't an accident, or even Castillo. This was...
"They blew up the road?" Wolf asked, sounding as bewildered as Danny felt. Every time Danny thought that he had seen it all...
"To create a fire break," Paul explained. "Except for the virus. The Governor divided LA into ten sections. Nobody in or out. Of course, the Governor was up in Sacramento. He didn't know all that much about how things work down here in SoCal."
And, suddenly, Danny understood why Deandre was here. He looked at the young man. "How do we get across?"
The man shrugged. "Nobody thought about the tunnels."
"Nobody ever does, thank God." Danny's hands tightened into fists as memories of Baltimore rose unbidden. Wolf's hand came up to his shoulder. Even Paul and Deandre stayed quiet, seeming to understand that this was not a time to ask questions. "How do we get in?"
"There's a manhole a block over," Deandre answered, turning to pick his way through the rubble.
Fifteen minutes later, the four men and Halsey were on the other side of no man's land, looking at more devastation. But worse than the view was the silence. One that indicated that nothing - nobody - here was alive. Danny glanced at Deandre. "When was the last time you came over?"
Deandre shrugged. "A couple weeks back. Usually I set a signal, make sure it's safe first. We need to check in before heading to your friend's place. Don't want to ruffle the wrong feathers."
As much as he wanted to protest the delay, Danny knew better than to argue. The collapse of government left huge holes, and while some of those holes were filled by people like Mr. Williams, others were filled by those with far fewer scruples. Besides, having given Paul and Deandre the contagious cure only hours earlier, the more people that they came into contact with the better. Twenty minutes passed before Deandre stopped in front of an apartment building that looked just as dilapidated as the ones they had walked past, hammering on the door before walking back to the street to wait. Less than a minute passed before a head appeared, wearing a gas mask. "What are you doing here D and who are they?"
"You know Mr. O'Connor," Deandre gestured to Paul. "His son Mikey's ship, the Nathan James, got to the port today. Mikey brought us the cure. Thought we would spread the wealth."
"Hold on." The head disappeared for a moment, before the door opened and they were gestured inside. Danny followed the man down and down again, until they stood in an underground parking lot filled with tents, converted into a living space much the way that Thornwald had done in Baltimore. As they picked their way across the dimly lit pavement, Danny could see dozens of faces peeking out, apparently curious about who they were and what they were doing.
Finally they reached their destination, a fire pit surrounded by a dozen or so men, about half in fatigues. Vaguely Danny wondered whether they were actually military before deciding that it didn't matter. A man in his early thirties stood. "Mano says you have the cure for the Red Flu. We heard a few rumors going around but you know how that goes. You for real, Deandre?"
Deandre held the other man's eyes. "My sister and her babies are here, Slim. Think I would have let these guys in if I wasn't sure?"
A slow smile broke across Slim's face. "You, Deandre, just became my favorite brother-in-law. How many doses you got there?"
"Enough for everyone," Paul spoke up. "And while we're doing that, Lieutenant Green here needs to deliver a flag. One of his guys who died finding the cure. Any of you know the Benz family?"
Flipping open the CDC case, Danny began the familiar process of loading the first set of shots as the men talked among themselves, until all had shaken their heads in the negative. Passing the first loaded canister to Wolf, Danny spoke directly to Slim. "Think I could take a walk over to his place to check?"
"Suit yourself." Slim shrugged, before gesturing to another man. "Johnny will take you."
Leaving Wolf to handle distribution, Danny moved towards Johnny, surprised when Deandre fell in with them as well. He glanced sideways, but Deandre shook his head, apparently not wanting to talk around Johnny. Or perhaps not wanting to talk at all.
The trip to Frankie's mother's apartment was short, only five minutes. As expected, there was no answer to Danny's knock and the men pushed their way inside, climbing to the fourth floor. Although the door was locked, Johnny got it open quicker than Danny would have managed, even with the benefit of the master lockpick that he always carried in his vest.
Stepping inside, Danny knew instantly what he would find. The smell unmistakable. Johnny gagged and turned to bolt back outside, but Deandre held it together. Pulling out a handkerchief, Danny tossed it to the man. "It helps. A little."
Signaling Halsey to stay with Deandre, Danny walked towards the only bedroom. Renee Benz had downsized immediately after her husband died, even before Frankie enlisted, forcing him to spend his last six months before enlisting sleeping on the couch. Perhaps her own way of ensuring that none of her adult children came back to live with her. Entering the bedroom, Danny found the woman lying in bed, no indication that she had been disturbed in any way. Danny pulled the sheet over her head. Wondering whether it was better this way. Renee never having to know that her precious baby boy took his own life rather than infect his crew.
Danny supposed that he could try to find one of Frankie's three older sisters, but without addresses, that seemed like a goose chase. Whether or not they were still alive, they were certainly not here. Perhaps after the Nathan James finished spreading the cure and were back in the States again, Danny would be able to locate them. Maybe he could get Kara or Val to put a flag on their names.
But, for now, this was the best that he could do.
Moving back to the kitchen, Danny pulled Frankie's carefully folded flag from his pack, placing it on the center of the table, wishing that he had thought to bring a case to protect it from the dust and grime. Next to the flag, Danny set Frankie's tin of metals, along with the letter that he wrote almost a year ago, just in case he was no longer around to personally deliver Franklin's belongings. Telling the Benz family what had happened. Well, part of what had happened. Focusing more on Franklin's bravery in the Arctic and less on the events on the cruise ship. Finally, Danny set down two pictures. One Frankie's official military shot, his face far too solemn as he sat stiff as a board in his dress uniform, looking almost unrecognizable without his trademark smirk. The other was a photograph of the four of them - him, Benz, Smith, and Berchem - the day before they boarded the Nathan James. One of the final moments that Danny could now remember as normal and not colored by the virus or the Russians or Tophet's betrayal.
Danny set his palm on the table, fingers spread as he stared down at the makeshift memorial. The last thing that he could do for his best friend.
No, not the last.
Because there was something he could still do. He could keep Frankie alive through memories and stories. He could share those with his wife and son, and perhaps someday with other children or grandchildren. He could make sure that Franklin Edward Benz was not forgotten.
Danny turned to Deandre. "I'm done here."
And then he left without looking back.