Cameron was sitting down along with the rest of Bravo and Alpha, just out of the sight of the hostiles. It was depressing. They were so close to finishing things off and going home, but those bastards just had to have a machinegun pointed right at the only entrance to the depot.

He really wished that Major Kyle were still around (not that Harry wasn't doing a good job so far). Cameron couldn't help but wonder if he would've been able to pull off a glorious plan to end it all. If it wasn't for that damn grenade…

Grenade? Cameron found himself thinking.

Grenades have already been put on the table as a way to force their entry. Unfortunately they didn't have much of an idea of what was inside the depot. Perhaps the explosion would trigger even more explosions, and in the end everyone would end up dead. And if not, they didn't want to risk injuring the hostages—which they knew existed from the cries for help.

But Cameron probably just thought of a way to put the idea of using grenades back on the table. It was such a simple idea that he had no clue why no one thought of it sooner. "Harry," he said quietly into his radio.

"Have an idea, Marsh?" Harry asked, sounding a bit dejected.

"How about we have some people put a bunch of grenades on the roof? When they blow it should distract them long enough to give us a chance."

Silence was met with those words. "Well I'll be damned. Recon, you get that?"

"Sure did, sir!"

"Get to it!"

All at once, Alpha and Bravo stood back up, readying themselves once more for an upcoming fight. It took Recon only a couple of minutes to get onto the roof, plant the grenades, and retreat to a safe distance before calling in that they were ready. Peeking around the corner just enough to take a look inside, Harry gave the order to set them off. A second later a gunshot went off simultaneously followed by an explosion that rocked the roof.

Just as Cameron had predicted the hostiles were taken completely by surprise, and Harry gave the order to charge right on in. They weren't seen coming as the man on the machinegun was instantly put down.

When the dust settled, it took the bandits a little while before they realized what had just happened. The explosion created a large hole in the ceiling that showered them with pieces of concrete and dust. Being so preoccupied with getting out of the way, their weapons were no longer pointed at anything, and thirty-five guns were now pointed at them.

"Put the guns down NOW!" Harry shouted at the remaining seventeen bandits. Nine hostages were still tied up on the floor in front of them.

Three bandits were stupid enough to try and use their weapons, and three bandits instantly had their faces blown off. The last fourteen were shocked and angry at the way that things had turned out.

"PUT DOWN YOUR FUCKING GUNS!" Harry bellowed at the top of his lungs. Slowly but surely they lowered their weapons to the ground. "Now kick them here." The guns were kicked to him. "Good, now get facedown on the floor with your hands on your head."

Left with no other options, the no longer hostile hostiles obeyed the orders.

"You three untie the hostages and get them on the truck," Harry ordered his men. "You, you, and you tie up our prisoners." Cole and two others obeyed using duct tape that they had brought along just for the occasion. "There's still plenty of firepower that these bastards haven't used yet. Let's load it all up."

Exhaling with relief, Cameron relaxed and lowered his rifle. "There," he said to Harry, strapping his rifle to his back. "It's done. Can you please relieve me of command?" Cameron may have not been forced to make any life or death decisions as leader of Bravo, but he wanted the responsibility off his shoulders.

Smirking, Harry called, "Wesley!"

"Yes, sir!" Wesley answered obediently.

"Bravo is yours for the moment."

"Yes, sir."

"Good job, Marsh," Harry said gratefully, patting Cameron's arm.

He didn't think he did anything to deserve it, but Cameron accepted the compliment all the same. Cameron was about to get to work, when Becky ambushed him to have a quick make out session with him. The timing was completely inappropriate, but it still enjoyable.

Pulling away, she told him in a hushed and sexy voice, "I love you, too."

Beaming, Cameron pulled her back in so they could proceed to snog some more, only getting back to work after Harry shouted at them.

Trucks Charlie and Delta pulled up to the entrance so that supplies could be loaded. The other two trucks were on zombie duty, since all the shooting had caused just about every one of them in the area to congregate on them. Luckily they appeared sparsely so that it made for easy pickings.

It was well into the night by the time they finished unloading. Charlie was completely filled up, with Delta half filled. Cameron was amazed at how much ammunition they had picked up. Without a doubt it would last them for a good while.

"Sir?" It was the same person who had been given orders to proceed with the massacre earlier that day. "What about them?" he asked, nodding over the bound bandits.

"Why waste the bullets?" Harry said, causing to the bandits to look a bit more relieved. "They're zombie chow now." That relief was now gone, and they began to struggle desperately, trying to beg if it wasn't for the duct tape covering their mouths.

Wanting to go home, no one paid any attention to the bandits. Pity was not wasted on those that didn't understand the value of a human life—especially when it was needed now more than ever. Cameron had no problems walking by them as he held hands with Becky as if they were nothing more than moldy, old furniture. The two of them climbed back into Bravo when there was a downtime between zombies. With all the extra cargo and passengers it was a really tight fit inside.

It had been a long day, and Cameron and Becky slept on one another the entire way back.

They may have taken losses that day, but the mission was successful: the hostiles were no more, the hostages were rescued, and possession was taken of an enormous stockpile of weapons.

Still, that didn't mean their world was safe. Zombies were still an everyday threat, and even more potentially hostile people were still out there. But Yuba had numbers, training, and the drive to survive. "If you want to kick the tiger in the ass, you'd better have a plan for dealing with his teeth," Cameron remembered from one of his Tom Clancy novels. Let anybody that decided to fuck with them deal with the consequences.