A/N: Don't own anyone but the Major...

Again, thank you to those who continue to follow!

Phantom'srose1209- Thanks for the review!

Vixen with a Vendetta, eliza1222, and FuTuReMrScArLiSlEcUlLeN – Welcome aboard!

It wasn't what she was anticipating.

The USS Nathan James was a naval destroyer; a missile guided destroyer to be precise. Where were the aircraft carriers?! The Navy Seals?! The nuclear submarines?! What happened to the rest of the US Navy? Surely some had avoided the Pandemic. It couldn't be one ship?! Could it?!

"Captain," the Major turned to face her host. "I don't want to sound rude but are you the only one?"

"Afraid so Major," he nodded grimly.

"And the lab is in Helo Bay One."

"Affirmative."

"Okay then," she started along the dock, staying to the left as the truck rolled down, loaded with the spoils. The platform beneath their boots vibrated as the heavy vehicle lumbered towards the James. Couldn't raid the warehouse and forget the kettle chips or Frosted Flakes! At least they would have more variety. It didn't hurt they found the grove of banana and mango trees to the northwest of Section 7. Seems before the shit hit the fan the Cubans had made that their perch in the hopes of taking out a visiting officer or political figure. Beat whatever the Hell they were sustaining themselves on before.

Chandler stole a few side glances at their newest passenger, noting the heavy bags pulling at the lower halves of her eyes. The Army issued fatigue pants were soiled with blood, mud, grass, and a few that he couldn't identify. The sand colored shirt was a little better but had the tell tale signs of seeing battle. But he recalled how easily she snapped the neck of the al Qaeda operative back at the warehouse. She didn't hesitate or fumble but knew where to grab and how much pressure to apply.

I've never seen an officer do something on that level. But she saved my ass.

"Thanks for letting me grab what few items I had. Until I can find some better fitting clothes I'll have to wear men's attire. But the pants don't fit too badly. At least I can get a shower."

From the corner of his eye something red caught his attention. He grabbed her left forearm, startling her as he caught what it was. A gash approximately 3 inches long ripped parallel to her forearm beginning just above the elbow before lifting up and off at the mid point.

"You're injured."

"Nothing I haven't dealt with before Captain. I took a bullet to the shoulder on my first tour of Afghanistan. This is a flesh wound and besides, I don't need medical attention."

"The Hell you don't," he came around with her arm remaining in his hold. "You of all people should understand the ramifications of an untreated laceration in this environment."

"So now you're a microbiologist?" She raised an eyebrow, mildly amused by his stance. Chandler was taken aback by her devil may care attitude.

"Why are you so cavalier Major? If anyone here should have a clear understanding of what has happened. Now, when we get aboard I am going to personally escort you to Doc Rios and have that looked at. Even if I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you."

"Fine," she pursed her lips. "I'll have your doctor look at it. Will that make you happy?"

"Yes," he added a smirk.

"Then may I see the lab? I would like to begin to assist Dr. Scott fairly quickly and trade notes."

"The faster we get you in that lab, hopefully the faster we can get a vaccine and go home."

The Major tilted her head, as if she knew something he didn't.

"Something you wish to share Major?"

"You're an optimist I see. That's good because you're gonna need that optimism."

"You don't think we'll find a vaccine or cure for this?"

"No, I think we will but when you mention home," she paused and tapped her fingers on the juts of her hips. "I'm a realist Captain. I'm not so sure home is what you think it's gonna be. You realize what this virus is capable of right? It's zoonotic, meaning the capability to infect humans from animals and animals to humans is there. This could go back between avian and human then the other way around. Where do you think some of the most virulent strains of influenza have originated? Look," she placed her injured arm on his shoulder. "I'm not saying it's end of days but hope for the best and expect the worst."

"Right," he nodded.

"Before my plane went down approximately 90% of US population was infected and on their way to dying. That was three to four weeks ago. The government was on the brink of collapse as the POTUS had succumbed to the virus and most of Congress was dead. The states were falling like dominoes with everyone resorting to self survival and preservation. The cities were urban war zones. I couldn't reach anyone in the Pentagon or DOD. USAMRIID was offline and I am fearing they're dead. But this is between you and me. The last thing you and I want is to ignite any panic or anxieties."

He swallowed a lump that was rising in his throat. Were they still safe at his father's cabin?! Was everyone still healthy?!

"I''m sorry to tell you this but I'm not going to sugar coat anything. At least you know what I know about 'home.' I won't know how far or behind we are with a vaccine until I talk to Dr. Scott and get in a suit."

"Then let's get you there."

"Captain," she stopped him. "We weren't the only ones."

"What do you mean?"

"It's not safe to talk out here." Her head angled around, watching the crew happily loading the fresh infusion of supplies and a few creature comforts courtesy of the small Navy Exchange the Major had pointed out on their way back.

Chandler saw the urgency burning in her eyes.

"First, we get this," he pointed to her wound, "taken care of."

"Of course," she didn't cease glancing around even as they started up the ramp and onto the deck.

"We have a new passenger: Major Alexandra Koch of the United States Army Medical Research Institute of Infectious Diseases. She is a microbiologist and immunologist. She has been researching the virus."

"Does she have anything with her?"

"No. Everything she had was lost in the crash; or so she claims."

"Damn it. No matter as this is good news. Stall them longer."

"Longer?! How do I do that?!"

"You are a smart man, you will figure out a way."

Quincy felt his heart drop with the severing of the connection. He didn't know much about Major Koch other than she was from the US Army and was the head of the team that had been dedicated to studying and working with CDC on the Pandemic. He had seen her once, before they were deployed from Norfolk. It had been the last time anyone would see the President or Vice President alive.

"Major, please brief the President and Vice President regarding the outbreak."

Major Koch rose, wearing her Class As with ribbons pinned neatly to the center of her left shoulder. It wasn't as numerous as some of the other military personnel present, but still impressive. Quincy had asked her prior to the meeting what each one was to which Major Koch kindly identified each one.

"This one," she pointed at one with green tips at the ends, followed with thicker identical red tips, then two narrower bars of black with a white interior. The center had two pencil thin red lines that protected a navy blue one. "Was for my service in Afghanistan. I was there when typhoid broke out in one of the camps."

"What about this one?"

The next one had a blank sand center with black bars on the ends with white bars housing minute green lines with red tips closing the sides.

"Iraq Campaign," she spoke as if she was reciting off a script. "One tour of combat duty. I was there to search for any biological weapons or evidence of a program. We found very little if anything."

He pointed to another that was burgundy with three stripes on each end which she mentioned was her Army Good Merit ribbon. The rainbow colored one was her Army Service Military ribbon. These two she was awarded when she was a corporal for demonstrating exceptional leadership qualities and completing her basic training as a private.

"Mrs. President and Mr. Vice President, right now we don't have a definitive answer. The virus is unstable and hasn't responded to the conventional antiviral cocktails or therapies. We even tried using the vaccines we have and not a one made a crack."

"Major, am I hearing you correctly by saying your team is at a loss?" The President was alarmed. Major Koch came highly recommended and yet she was standing feet away, saying they had nothing. The Major nodded and dropped her head, scraping together what to say next. They were at the edge of a biological precipice.

"This is a virus Mrs. President. Unlike bacteria, viruses are neither living nor deceased. All viruses care about is replicating and mutating but it needs a host cell unlike bacteria, which can do it without such. They can take over c. That's why influenza killed so many in 1918. It has a completely different operating level."

"Well please explain it to those of us who are not as versed in viruses," the Vice President implored. He wasn't patronizing but inquisitive.

"Okay," Major Koch took a deep breath. "Viruses infect a human by latching onto a specific cell. For example, HIV seeks and latches onto a certain type of T-Cell which is important in fighting off infections. Once it finds and attaches to that cell, it injects its DNA like you would inject a vaccine. Then it replicates within that cell until the cell ruptures and all of the new viruses seek out more cells to take over and replicate. It's a cycle."

Dr. Rachel Scott was seated towards the back of the conference table, watching her colleague as she attempted to explain how a virus was different from a bacteria. She was reclined in the chair, quietly admiring her for being so calm. Perhaps she had popped a Valium or two before the meeting started. Rachel had caught her taking them on more than on occasion in the field and at home prior to any potential stressful situation. A consequence of being on the front lines. She couldn't begin to fathom the horrors she had been witness to in the mountains of Afghanistan.

"This virus is something no one was ever seen. It doesn't even fall into any of the families identified! There are at least five strains with more surfacing. I hate to say it but the human species has met its match. Unless science cracks the code on this, it's going run through the human population like tinder."

A few hushed murmurs rippled around the table.

"What do you know about this Major?"

"We do know that it is airborne, highly communicable, and extremely virulent. Even coming into contact with the deceased will expose and infect a person. Within three days of exposure symptoms being to manifest: Fever, headache, and lethargy. Once the lesions appear, delirium is rapid then death comes within 2 days. During that time, the body crashes out; meaning the organs shut down and the body bleeds from every orifice it has. Overall, there is a symptomatic period of 3-5 days. It kills hard and fast. The mortality rate is 100%. The genetic structure is unheard of."

"Jesus..." the President gasped. "Has the source been discovered?!"

"Dr. Scott has developed a theory about that so I'll let her take the floor." Major Koch took her seat, reaching for the metallic pot that housed the strong bittersweet brew. She couldn't make it through any meeting or briefing without it. The Major watched as her civilian counterpart took the lead. Dr. Scott pulled up her laptop which displayed photos of birds in addition to maps with directional arrows that crossed the map in hourglass shapes.

"Thank you, Major. I believe that it is avian in nature. Like Major Koch stated, birds have been the source of several devastating pandemics throughout human history. I believe that the source, the primordial strain is somewhere in the Arctic. With the Major's assistance, we were able to identify a common denominator: The Arctic Tern. They have the longest migration pattern in any species of animal and the initial outbreak didn't occur until after their migrations south commenced."

She pulled up the x-rays obtained from the deceased Arctic terns they collected.

"But the outbreaks began in parts of the world where the terns don't pass over or stop near." The Secretary of Defense waved with his hand, incredulous over what she was proposing.

"Viruses can be spread in fecal matter of the host species," the Major interjected. "It wouldn't take much for the virus to hitchhike onto a new species if that animal or insect comes into contact with that materiel. Remember, this virus can do whatever it wants because we know shit about it."

"Major," the Secretary of Defense warned her with a cautionary tone.

"Mr. Secretary," the Major turned her attention to him. The pale green rings stared her down as her equally tenacious cerulean ones charged back. She straightened in her seat and neatly intertwined her fingers on the table. "I have studied some of the most dangerous viruses on the planet. Some of them have sources that we have absolutely NO FUCKING clue where they are located. Ever read the Hot Zone!? I have and I highly recommend you do the same. It talks about an unfortunate son of a bitch named Charles Monet who was exploring the Kitum caves and came back a human viral bomb. They don't know what the precise reservoir is or if there are multiple ones of Marburg. As he was flying to Nairobi, the virus was liquefying his internal organs because the 'extreme' amplification of the virus or changing his body into it, failed. You see, the virus had saturated his entire body from head to toe, brain to skin, bone to blood. He was projecting vomito negro, the end result of this failed process. Every cell in his body was sludge. He was essentially crashing out on a passenger plane that recirculated the air, exposing more people to this thing."

Dr. Scott suppressed the smirk struggling to rise on the corners of her lips.

"Or how about Robert Rayford, the first victim of HIV/AIDS; back in 1969 in Saint Louis."

"I suppose what I am trying to say is that we are out of our element on this one. I support Dr. Scott in her request to go to the Arctic and seek out the primordial strain. Since I am overseeing the logistical aspects of this operation, we are to leave no stone or in this case snow pack unturned. My superiors will support my decision."

She glared at the Secretary of Defense. He was out of his domain in this room; outsmarted and overruled by a goddamn woman.

"Find Dr. Scott a vessel to transport and house her research including any supporting personnel. This is highly classified and no one outside of this room is to know of the intention of the mission."

The Major smiled, clearly pleased with herself. The Secretary of Defense seethed. The National Security Adviser nodded to the her as she picked up the phone closest to her.

"Yes, I need to speak to the Secretary of the Navy."

"What in the Hell was that all about!?" Quincy couldn't believe what he had been witness to. The pair was en route back to Atlanta to collect the required supplies and equipment for the four month expedition. The Major had lined up the USS Nathan James to be their escort. The Secretary of the Navy would arrange for the "official" mission of the James. "What happened?! Now correct me if I'm wrong but isn't the Secretary of Defense higher in ranking than an Army major?!"

"The US Army delivered us a godsend with the Major. She gets it. I wouldn't question it."

"Captain on deck," Lieutenant Granderson hollered as Chandler set foot across the threshold. XO Slattery couldn't but help to be relieved at the sight of the CO in one piece.

"Mike," he grasped an overhead hanging, observing the flow of personnel and goods onto the James.

"What did you find? The trucks are loading up the food. We should have enough for 5-6 weeks. Before we lost connection with the fuel we were at 96%."

"More like who, Mike. More like who," the ghost of a smile played along his lips.

"Really now?" He pulled the headset up and away then put it around his neck.

"It seems there weren't just two people sent to save the world after all. There was another; an Army major from USAMRIID."

"Well what's his name?" Slattery was dying to hear this. They couldn't have been that lucky in finding someone else who could be competent in a lab let alone someone from USAMRIID.

"Major Alexandra Koch," the smile solidified. "And she's quite the personality. Not charming like Dr. Scott but she saved my ass in the warehouse. Nothing unlike I've seen any officer do. She snapped the guy's neck clean. It was as if someone else was in control at that instant."

"How did she wind up at Gitmo!? I mean that's a long way from home for an Army major from Bethesda. And what do you mean she snapped a guy's neck!?"

"Plane taking her back crashed. Our other pickup pulled her from the wreckage. It seems they lost 5 of the group before we showed up. It was just him and her against 13 al Qaeda prisoners. When one is stranded and surrounded by the enemy, you do what is necessary to survive your environment."

"Lady's tough," Slattery snorted but not in disrespect.

"Yeah, yeah she is," Chandler mirrored his observation.

"So now we have the only know three scientists left who could develop a vaccine?" His XO shook his head. "I would like to think this means the odds have improved."

"I would like to think so Mike. She lost her equipment and everything she had in the crash. Makes it harder. But she knows Dr. Scott."

"Really?!" The XO's face faltered. "Great."

"Don't be so quick to judge Major Koch based on what we know of Dr. Scott. I would suggest not undermining her in front of the officers though. She may bite back."

"Doc, I'm fine," the Major huffed irritably. "I could've scrubbed it myself."

Doc Rios simply looked at his patient and shook his head before resuming his examination. Army...Stubborn as hell even with the world falling apart.

"Captain made it clear you were to be examined and have this," he gestured to her arm, "tended to before you go trouncing around in the lab."

"Yes Mother," she replied in light sarcasm. Again with the head shake.

"Doc," Chandler appeared now in full uniform. Green was seated beside Cruz, keeping vigil as any dedicated officer would for his men. Tex, the last man standing as he had called himself, was seated, leaning against the wall with shirt up showing off his red badge of courage to Dr. Scott. Chief Engineer Garnett was stretched out on the exam table, having her injuries treated by one of the medics.

"I'll make it," Garnett assured the Captain with an uneasy smile. He wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline wearing down or the anxiety from being in the brief but extreme heat of battle. Either way, she was strong. "Before you know it I'll be back on my feet."

"We got it all under control. How about you Major?" Major Koch arched an eyebrow.

"She's a live one Captain. Better watch out for this one." Doc Rios sought the syringe with the local and the burning pinch simmered under the surface. Major Koch exhaled, feeling the skin around the wound slowly lose all feeling. He continued sticking her, perhaps finding the slightest level of joy in it given her stubbornness.

"I'm well aware of it Doc." The Major lifted her head to catch the spark in his steel blue traps.

"I'm not so sure she should be working in the lab with this type of wound." The forceps clicked together, keeping the suture needle steady as he went to repairing the dermis.

"I'll have on at least two layers of gloves over the wound in addition to a suit and the wound will be tightly wrapped with tape to keep anything out. Look, it's pretty imperative I get to work."

She looked to Chandler, pleading with the superior officer to say something.

"She'll be fine," Dr. Scott interrupted from a few feet away. She was cleaning the laceration Tex had received courtesy of Amir's merry band of goons. "So long as she follows protocols for a Biolevel 4 environment, her chances of contracting the Ramses strain will be slim."

"Thank you," the Major gave a wide smile. "And it's nice to see you again Rachel."

"Likewise Alex," Dr. Scott saturated the gauze pad in her fingers before dabbing the wound once more. His lower torso recoiled in reaction and face twisted into a deep pained grimace. The Major chuckled at his childish reactions.

"It burns!" Tex cried like a kid, squirming against the wall. The Major snickered as he continued acting out like a five year old.

"It's suppose to. I'm cleaning it out," Dr. Scott continued to gently swipe the red stained cloth over the area, ignoring the whimpering from the older man.

"Tex, quit bitching. Seriously, you survived the warehouse where you had several guns pointed at your head and you're whining about a little burn!?" The Major rolled her eyes causing Lieutenant Green to snicker as he sat alongside his teammate, Cruz, who was resting from the impromptu surgery on the beach. She spotted the cut in his pants where the bullet had torn into muscle, nearly severing an artery. He was unconscious but stable, resting in familiar territory with comrades.

"She saved him, Major," Green caught her curious glance.

"Dr. Scott can be tough as nails, Lieutenant Green. He was in good hands."

"Yeah, yeah he was," Green nodded, acknowledging what he had initially been hesitant to accept. "He would've died out there if she hadn't shown up."

Rachel quelled the smile that wanted to crack the corners of her lips. She felt the weight of someone's gaze and caught Major Koch staring from across the room. Her head nodded in encouragement as if to say, well done. It was lifting to have a friendly face around.

"She and the Major here are going to save us all. Aren't you?" Chandler looked straight at the Major. A hopeful expression dominated his eyes. It was difficult to not let that warmth penetrate her being the longer they kept their stares locked to one another. Chandler shook his head, breaking the trance he was in. They had captivated him; those brilliant sapphires.

"I know so," she nodded and felt her ears burning.

"Captain on Bridge," Chandler wasn't alone as entered the boat house. Major Koch was accompanying him. A crisp white layer of gauze shielded the newly mended laceration with a few strips of waterproof tape to keep it secure. It stood out against wrinkled sand colored shirt. She was in clear awe of everything that was carried out all around her. The ice blue rings widened into saucers as they fell upon the complex systems including communications and navigation. Her grandfather had served on the USS Missouri and told her stories of his time in service during World War II. He had been one of the fortunate sailors to witness the declaration of surrender being signed by Japan.

"Mike, this is Major Alexandra Koch, US Army. She's an immunologist."

"Major Koch," Mike eagerly extended his paw like hand to which the Major happily accepted, finding hers being devoured by his larger one. "Welcome aboard the James."

"Thank you XO Slattery. While it may take some time for me to develop my sea legs, I can assure you I will do everything in my ability to get a vaccine created. But if it wasn't for the Captain, I would still be back on Gitmo taking pot shots from terrorists. I could go for a stiff drink though." The Major mused miserably.

"Sir, there's a problem with some equipment." Lieutenant Granderson interrupted. "It seems one of the pieces of lab equipment tipped over and Dr. Tophet is insisting he get it upright and recalibrated before depart."

"What piece? Did he say?" The Major questioned the officer. If they were using the equipment she was thinking they were, there was no way anything could've tipped over unless...

"No ma'am he didn't. But he said he needs 3-4 hours to do it." Just then the phone rang and Granderson hastily excused herself to take it.

"Most of that equipment is pretty sturdy and it takes substantial force or someone to do that. There wasn't any hard maneuvering prior to arriving here was there?" Her question wasn't one of accusation but of investigation.

"No, ma'am. Even when we were in the Arctic there were no harsh turns or moves that could've disrupted anything. Dr. Scott made no mention of any matters."

Before she could ask further, Lieutenant Granderson hurried over. Her body language was elevated but she remained cool on the surface. Still, the Major could see the underlying panic.

"Sir, IMO can confirm the signature on the vessel but they don't think it's British."

"What vessel?" Major Koch looked out and saw the approaching vessel. It was drawing closer towards them, increasing in speed. Chandler peered through the binoculars, getting a better view of their company. What awaited him wasn't friend. What he saw was a Kirov class battlecruiser positioned at the mouth of the harbor.

"It's the Russians! Set general quarters NOW!"

"General quarters! General quarters! All hands man your battle stations!"

"Bridge this is TAO; enemy has just energized its fire controlled radar." The TAO's alert tone came across which heightened the tensions already simmering in the boat house.

"We're in their cross hairs." Slattery felt his anxieties rise along with his pulse. It was the Arctic Part Deux except this time there was a lack of airships opening fire on their men.

"Oh shit," Major Koch felt the cold settling in the pit of her stomach. "This is not good."

Slattery cast a strange look in her direction but didn't get to ask her what she meant by that statement as a message came over the channel.

"Captain Tom Chandler."

As if the Major's sickening sensation couldn't get any worse...

"This is Commander Chandler; identify yourself immediately!"

"I apologize for the rude introduction but I believe you have someone, rather two someones that I want."

Chandler looked to the Major who just nodded her head, confirming the unspoken question. Mike frowned at this silent exchange between them. What was going on? What were they keeping from him? Oh HELL no he was not going to be deceived again!

Major Koch hugged her chest and watched everyone man their stations. It was the one thing she could do without losing her mind at that particular instance. She was blocked out by everyone around her, nothing more than part of the background while the ship's personnel prepared for battle. She didn't notice someone approaching her from behind until the moist breath was barreling down the back of her neck and outer ear.

"May I ask what that was about?" Slattery snarled in her ear. The pensive shoulders dropped as he spun around, coming face to face with an agitated XO.

"We weren't the only ones in a race for a vaccine Commander. I had suspicions someone was working on the inside for them before I left for Guiana. How else would they have known to come here where we all happened to be? And how else would they know that I'm here on board along with Dr. Scott!?"

"What made you think that?"

"Now is not the time Commander," the Major shook her head. "As I told the Captain, we weren't the only ones. What did he mean by rude introduction?!"

"We thought it was a British vessel hailing us. Woman claimed it was the HMS Suffolk and they were low on supplies including fuel and no one was infected."

"Of course," the Major narrowed her eyes and gritted her teeth. "One of the oldest tricks in the book. The wounded bird ploy."

"No," Slattery squeezed her right bicep harder than what he intentionally wanted. "Tell me damn it. What made you think that?"

She huffed in open irritation. Now was so not the time for a pissing contest with her. The Major didn't attempt to conceal her indignation towards the XO as she spoke.

"Before I departed to Guiana, I received a message from a colleague inside DOD. Someone had intercepted a message meant for the Russians that specifically called out Dr. Scott and myself by name in addition to meeting times and places within the DC area. That was before the government imploded. Someone knew what we were doing. I don't know who but it's clear they're still very much alive and I want to know who. Does that answer your question?"

The pressure lifted from her arm as Slattery took a few steps back.

"Asshole," she muttered beneath her breath while rubbing the area. It was bright angry red.

"This is Commander Tom Chandler; to whom to do I have the pleasure of speaking to?"

"This is Commander Constantine Nicholai Ruskov, former Vice Admiral of the once great Russian Federation."

Chandler caught the Major rolling her eyes.

Great Russian Federation MY ASS! Couldn't even beat a bunch of cavemen!

He spied the burning mark peeking from under the right sleeve of her shirt then looked to his XO who immediately averted his eyes from the weight of his CO's glare.

"Admiral, I will advise you that you are in US territorial waters and we will take defensive action if necessary if you do not withdraw sea ward."

"Commander Chandler, I have tracked you down across the Earth. Give into my demands and I will let you and your crew go."

"And what exactly are those orders?"

"It is my understanding you have a sample of the primordial strain. In addition to the sample you will hand over Dr. Rachel Scott and Major Alexandra Koch and their respective research."

"Master of Watch," Chandler hollered over his shoulder. An officer stepped up; his face concealed by anti-flash gear along with matching gloves that slid up and under the sleeves. "Go to my cabin and retrieve the book that is written in Russian."

These bastards were not going to budge. The Russians didn't roll over.

"Captain," the Major spoke up. Chandler snapped his head left, long enough to speak to her.

"Major, I need you to head to the lab and put together a vial of sample for me."

"You're not-" she shook her head. "Bad idea Captain."

"I didn't say the primordial sample," he lowered his voice to only she could hear. It was difficult to hear as she strained to gather every syllable he spoke. But it dawned on her.

"Right," she eagerly nodded.

"Once you get that sample ready, report back here with it."

"You got it, Captain." Again the mark on her arm flashed upward towards him as the Major rushed off. Slattery felt it again. He knew what would be coming when they got away from the Russians.

If they got away from the Russians.

Rachel peered up as the Major erupted through the door and raced for the nearest suit.

"Alex what in the Hell-"

"No time to talk Rachel," she steadily slipped in then zipped up the suit. She peeled the gloves up and over the bandaged part of her arm, double layer for extra measure. For triple measure, she duct taped the edge of the sleeve and glove together. Rachel watched from the other side of the plastic as the Major repeated this with the other side. The Major topped it off with the hood, complete with air system and crossed the barrier between hot and cold.

Rachel grabbed the red phone waiting for the Major to respond. It took a few moments before she lifted her head in acknowledgment.

"Alex what is going on?"

"Just a little present for our comrades." She had a pitch of glee in her voice. "The Captain requested it."

Quincy now joined her, watching as their newest team member filled one of the smallest vials they had then carefully screwed it shut. The Major looked around, spotting something on one of the shelves. Her eyes widened and lips parted into a matching smile.

"What is she doing?" Rachel didn't break her sight from the Major, instead, kept her focus on the suited figure.

"Preparing for something."