an. I have no chill, and I can't stay away from this universe. Part II of St. Augustine. Most of this will be unclear without having read that installment first. St. Louis serves as an alternate Season 3 following the events of the Season 2 canon-divergent scenario posed in part I. If that's not something you wish to read here are the most important changes to note: Captain Slattery is serving as CNO in St. Louis, his family was found alive. Captain Chandler is commanding Nathan James for its maidan post-cure deployment. Sasha Cooper was assigned to quarantine in Doak Stadium and discovered that she is immune. Paul Shemanski, aka 'Pablo' is Sasha Cooper's former teammate from the Defense Intelligence Agency; he was stateside in Season 2 and hooked up with the Nathan James crew in Vicksburg. Rachel Scott was not murdered. Global immunity sits closer to 10%. Ravit Bivas survived the oil rig. President Michener released the formula for the aerosolized cure to the world. Currently, the United States is the only country with the contagious formula.

References: St. Augustine, Chapter 11: 'What Could I Do?' St. Augustine, Chapter 8: 'Call a Spade a Spade'.

Guest review responses to the epilogue of St. Augustine below the chapter.

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When It Rains in Hong Kong

that's when I miss you the most

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Hong Kong, New China

Thumping bass vibrated through Sasha's forearms where they rested. The city below was peppered with dim glow; small flickering warm-toned beads dotted at random without density. The streetlights were sporadic. Entire blocks plunged black like a dystopian patchwork quilt, and most nights were the same; they'd return from smuggling cure, make good of the items bartered in payment—whiskey, beer, smokes, soda cans, the occasional blunt—and Jesse would crank up some music. Electronic in all its subgenres, from classics Sasha recognized to obscure tracks that either resonated or didn't, and it had been this way, every day, for thirteen nights since Jesse's brother died.

For a few hours she'd drink with them, usually until Jesse passed out, and then retreat to the balcony where the bass rattled the windows, humidity licked her skin, and she'd dwell; what Andrew would make of her choices since.

But some nights… some nights she'd view the horizon and taste a different kind of longing.

Equally hard to ignore.

But this was the ultimate freedom.

A place without duty, decorum, or rule beyond Peng's. Here there was no expectation. Here lived the antithesis of all that she'd been, and yet one thing remained consistent; it still made sense to seek refuge in constant anonymity.

Deep in the distance, the clouds hidden by nightfall were illuminated by a strobing burst, but there was no rich rumble to follow. The disturbance was but a speck she could squint at. Sasha straightened, palms curling around the cool powder-coated metal, and breathed in.

Just when she thought it was safe, he emerged. Straight from her subconscious mind to lure her back to that place; the oceans and those avenues… quiet moments in the afternoons where she'd warm her hands on the deck rails beside him.

The shadow of her hair whipping in the wind obscured her vision. The sky was rearranging. Those bursts of light miles beyond Hong Kong's bustling harbor growing ever more restless, and something in that felt awfully familiar.

USS Nathan James, South China Sea

Groggy, Tom woke with a fractional start and found his center of gravity warped. Jaw clenched, he massaged the dryness from his eyes. The ship listed again, providing an answer for why, and he began counting. The next disorienting pitch came not twenty seconds after. A frequency that was unmistakable. Exhaling, Tom swung back the covers and shifted, lowering both feet to the cold floor, and sat on the edge of his glorified bunk. His right hand found the button on the table lamp via muscle memory, and its tinny click resounded in the silence. The dim yellow made him squint.

This time the James listed with enough force to dislodge the picture on his nightstand. Its frame emitted a hollow scrape against the wood, and he caught it one-handed before it could fall, lingering for several seconds on Darien's face. His thumb hovered beside her image before touching the fragile plane of glass, tracing the smile he'd never see again.

Blinking, Tom rose from the bed and opened the drawer, securing the picture beside that nondescript envelope.

Again, he paused.

Re-read and then stared at the precisely handwritten 'Tom'.

He stuffed the drawer closed.

Folded in the cubby of the small bookshelf above the bed lay his uniform, and Tom made efficient work of removing his nightclothes. The knock he registered beyond both cabin doors was timely—fingers fastening the last button upon his jacket.

Awaiting his counsel was Commander Garnett, and when the Captain emerged fully alert and dressed in his working uniform, it seemed to draw a soft bemusement to the XO's features. "Nothing like Monsoon season in the South China Sea, right, sir?"

Chandler's response came in a manner that reminded Andrea of Michael Slattery. A noise between sarcasm and a grunt. She passed over a tablet detailing their latest tracking.

"Winds are approaching forty knots, up another ten from an hour ago. From what we can tell, we're looking at a three-hundred-mile radius—" The Captain's eyes flicked to hers and held before he resumed reading "—doesn't show any signs of weakening, sir."

Marginally, the Captain's brow lifted. "So we're looking at a Typhoon? Or is it a Cyclone? I was never much good at keeping them straight."

Andrea grinned. "It would be a Typhoon, sir."

Another powerful surge forced them to pause in the p-way before resuming the journey to the bridge. The glance Chandler threw her way held mirth. "Remind me—when we left Norfolk last year, what did they call that tropical storm heading up the east coast?"

She didn't doubt Captain Chandler remembered impeccably, given the concerns about their departure being impacted, but she indulged his sense of irony. "Andrea, sir."

There was a subtle twist to the Captain's lip. "Sounds like I should let you pick the name of this one then."

The corner of her eyes creased, and she stopped walking when he did.

"B's next… and far as I recall, the naming convention alternates between masculine and feminine," he added more quietly, the brief flash of humor outweighed by a sense of precedence.

Andrea's smile slipped into something nostalgic, and she nodded. "It would only be right to call it Bill then, sir."

For a moment Captain Chandler studied, head canted with both hands clasped behind his back before he softly nodded. "Bill it is."

White House, St. Louis, Missouri

"Sir—" Green leaned around the doorframe "—you have an incoming call over Navy Red."

Mike frowned and followed her into the green room, where he accepted a bright cherry red handset from Dennis. "This is CNO actual."

"Nathan James. Good to hear your voice, Mike."

His focus darted to the wall where several analog clocks kept world time. "Not scheduled to make port for four more days, Tom. Don't tell me you busted my ship." Mike imagined Tom either smirked, rolled his eyes, or failed to react, depending on the severity of the situation requiring Nathan James break EMCON.

"Trying not to. We're looking at a pretty nasty storm… based on our forecasting? Typhoon in less than twenty-four hours. Too big to outrun it—"

"Which means you need to sortie in Peng's backyard," Mike finished for him.

Green, who'd been engaged in dialogue with Secretary of Foreign Affairs, Alex Rivera, paused and glanced, her thumb steepled over the clicker of her ballpoint pen.

"Peng won't take kindly to that," Rivera warned, and Mike lifted his chin.

No shit, Sherlock.

"I'm gonna take a wild guess and assume we haven't made any progress where our international relations are concerned?" Tom drawled in response to Mike's lingering silence.

Mike scoffed.

"Only other option is to make a run for Okinawa… but we'd still need to refuel at the island depot…" Tom continued.

Again, Mike made a distasteful sound. "And he's holdin' it ransom. Shackleton got cut off by two of his destroyers last week and had to re-route to Vietnam."

"So it's true? He's blocking Japan from receiving anything but the aerosolized cure?"

"Where'd you hear that?" Mike re-adjusted his grip around the phone.

"Heard some rumors from the local partners. Lotta radio chatter too if you can find someone to translate it. I'll send you the data next time we make port and it's secure."

"Huh—for a minute I thought that hot chick from the Ukraine might'a found ya." In his peripheral, Mike saw Allison's features knot in disgust, and he made eye contact, more satisfied than prudent when she artificially flattened her expression.

Tom's pause was distended."No." And Mike felt the ache in that word.

Many a time he'd pondered in what condition he'd be had they not found Christine and the girls. Didn't know how he'd compartmentalized before—yet another obstacle with his wife. His lips tightened. "Doesn't mean anyt—"

"Everyone else is good?" Tom redirected.

"Doin' just fine."

"Tell them I said hi. Storm's holding steady on a northwest bearing. At flank, we should be able to stay ahead of it and ride out the worst in the shelter of the Wanshan Archipelago—Gator's recommendation."

"I'll brief POTUS and relay the data to Hayward and Shackleton—set a course."

"Nathan James copies all, aye."

Hong Kong, New China

Sasha registered the hissing release of suction behind her from the balcony slider door. Pablo sauntered over and took residence against the railing, and after several moments while she remained focused on the horizon, he considered her profile.

"We gonna nail this son of a bitch or not?" he mumbled.

Her body sighed. Not a breath, but a shift that lowered her shoulders and screamed fatigue. "We were lucky enough to make it out of Guangzhou alive—"

"And I seem to remember you tellin' me you could make one phone call and have what's left of the US Navy at your disposal."

"That was before I qui—"

"Bullshit."

Her grip tightened. "Paul. We can't drag the US into a full-blown war with Peng just because he almost wiped us out."

She'd turned. Watched his teeth grind and his lips pucker beneath the heavy stubble. "Then we go to Takehaya—"

"Are you kidding me?" she blinked several times, uncurling her body and choosing to face him head-on. "You wanna make a deal with the pirate that traffics people across the ocean as living blood bags?"

"Oh, so you are in there."

Squeezing her eyes closed, Sasha turned again to the horizon. "That's not fair," she murmured.

"I don't give a damn," he shot back. "Can't run from yourself forever, Sasha. And I'm not afraid to push you too far," he leaned closer, his next words low, "I'm not him."

Her tongue rammed against the roof of her mouth; nostrils flared. "Fuck you." Pushing away from the railing, she strode toward the door, ripping at the handle when her hand contacted it.

"Only a matter of time until this safe house gets blown too—"

She whirled around and shook the hair from her face. "We wouldn't be in this mess in the first place if we hadn't gotten into bed with Wu Ming!" she hissed. "Let's not forget who insisted on rolling that dice."

"I fucked up, alright? I know it. There's a room full of empty bedrolls in there to prove it!" He pointed through the still-open door. "But you can't look me in the eye and tell me you're okay with nothing. Peng wouldn't have come at us so hard if we hadn't been about to find somethin' we weren't 'sposed to." The angle of her jaw sharpened, and he lifted his brows. In two steps he was in her personal space again. "We are this close to figuring out what he's hiding."

Posturing, Sasha relinquished the handle, and stood toe to toe, her height placing her at eye level. "I'm not here to run around policing what's left of the world, Paul. I left that behind. That was my choice. Smuggling cure is as far I go."

His lip curled in a sneer, and he slowly shook his head. "You keep tellin' yourself that."

Her chin lifted, and her mouth thinned in a way that puckered the scar above her lip.

"Maybe if you say it enough, you'll actually believe it," he added, intentionally jamming her shoulder when he passed.

White House, St. Louis, Missouri

"It is not a mutation. I am quite certain that I could pinpoint exactly which stage of the nebulizing process they've mismanaged if I could simply study a profile. Surely it can't be that hard to find one bloody sample—"

"Peng's refusing to let us get anywhere near Japan, and strong-arming the rest of Asia into acting as his thugs," Rivera interjected. "He's got four destroyers patrolling the south and eastern China seas, not to mention an unknown number of civilian vessels, and he's made clear—that any encroachment beyond Taiwan will be taken as an act of war."

The man was in his mid-to-late fifties, with deep-set nasolabial creases, thick eyebrows, and a receding hairline that Rachel thought had long since passed the need to be shaved. Crossing both arms, she paced the side of the conference table to which she'd been summoned. "And Captain Chandler is aware of this?" She glanced at Captain Slattery.

Slattery nodded, and his mouth opened to contribute, but Allison Shaw spoke first.

"We don't have an alternative partner in the region capable of spreading the contagious cure." Her gaze was assertive. "And with all due respect to both of your contributions, Captain Chandler is not the President of this country."

Rachel fought not to roll her eyes in response to the other woman's demonstrative tone and saw Rivera's brow lift.

"The US doesn't have the bandwidth to go up against China, and I think you're forgetting that Peng currently controls two-thirds of the world's remaining freshwater muscle supply."

Rachel sucked on her cheeks and rocked on the balls of her feet, glad when Shaw's focus was drawn to the Oval Office's entrance. President Michener swung both doors open and approached. He motioned for them to retain their seats, or in her case, take one.

"Dr. Scott," he began. "I thank you for joining us."

She drew her lips into a flat measure of acknowledgment and nodded.

Holding smooth his tie with one hand at the waist, Michener sat at the head of the table. "I apologize for keeping you all waiting, but I was just on the line with President Peng." A ripple of surprise passed through the room. "He's agreed to host a summit—in Hong Kong—along with what's left of the leaders in Asia."

Captain Slattery sat straighter in his chair.

"I intend to send Captain Chandler to deliver a clear message; if Peng does not want to become the kind of partner the world needs in overcoming this pandemic, then the US is prepared to find a leader inside of his own country who will."

Rachel observed Allison blink in rapid succession. "Sir, don't you think that's a little aggressive—"

"Yes, it's aggressive," Michener spoke confidently. "But as Dr. Scott can attest, his refusal to spread the contagious doses we delivered across the continent puts entire nations at risk of extinction. Not to mention the fact that he's choking the world's means to manufacture the aerosolized kind and refusing to share China's energy resources with anyone who opposes his regime."

Rachel lifted her chin.

"Now—we were too far behind the curve to turn the tide in Europe. But the Canadian and British Prime Ministers have pledged their full support of any Naval and military forces they can spare to aid in the removal of President Peng should it come to it."

Rivera leaned on an elbow and then pointed vaguely in the President's direction. "They're worried about the reports he's negotiating an agreement with the Saudis?"

"Exactly."

Rivera lowered his hand and tipped his head. "It's a smart play."

"Sir, if I may?" Slattery interjected.

"Please," Michener encouraged.

"We'll need to send a security team ahead of time. Get the lay of the land—and the James will need to sortie in a secure location for the duration of the summit—I don't trust Peng not to come after her. Or Tom."

"Neither do I, Captain. Precisely why I think he's the right man for the job." Amusement gleamed from the President's eyes. "It certainly doesn't hurt that he's an international celebrity—"

"You're betting Peng will realize a move against Chandler would end his support in the region." Rivera surmised.

"I am. Aside from the Captain, the only other person more revered on the planet at present is Dr. Scott." Michener returned to address Captain Slattery. "Assemble a team and devise a proposal. I'd like to hear your recommendations for any other security measures we should take."

"Yes, sir," Slattery replied.

"Now, in regard to the potential mutation—" Rachel bit down "—I understand that it is yet to be proven—but provided we gain the cooperation of Peng in investigating the discrepancies with the aerosolized deployment in Japan—I'm prepared to send you to Guam. General Bonner has assured me that the island is secure, and the Shackleton is on standby to continue their original mission of bringing Dr. Milowsky to our base in Okinawa."

The surprise, Rachel assumed, had become evident upon her face. To date, the extent of her appointment as President Michener's Chief Medical Advisor had comprised mainly logistics and the education of the world's remaining scientists and governing bodies on how best to administer both versions of the cure. Roland Milowsky had taken on the more practical, and in her opinion, desirable work of obtaining and analyzing data in the field.

"When will the summit be held?" she asked.

"Two weeks from today," Michener said.

At the meeting's adjournment, Rachel lingered in the green room. Her time spent in the White House was normally limited to appearing beside President Michener during public briefings on the virus, after which she preferred to return to the sanctuary of her laboratory several blocks north at Washington University. "Tell me—does anyone actually like that woman?" she muttered.

Slattery smirked and gestured openly with both hands. "Welcome to politics."

Despite her frustrations, Rachel's cheek dimpled, and she shared a knowing look with the former XO. "Captain Chandler is not the President." She tutted, swiveling around in her chair. "If he was, I'm quite sure that he would have forced his way into Japan and gotten to the bottom of this by now."

Slattery finished what remained of his morning beverage and smacked his lips. "Probably."

"Since I'm here, I've been meaning to ask after your family? Kelly mentioned Ava has been doing much better now that classes have resumed." It seemed to Rachel that Slattery hadn't expected small talk. "Oh, come on, don't tell me you actually believe that I'm incapable of holding a conversation that doesn't in some way pertain to my work or the virus," she quipped, glib.

His lip quirked in a bemused sort of way. "Think Tex might be startin' to wear off on ya."

Before she could engage further, Allison Shaw reappeared. The acting Chief of Staff was clearly accomplished and yet despite holding a healthy respect for a fellow woman succeeding in a male-dominated field—Rachel simply couldn't warm to her. There was something chillingly callous in those piercing aquamarine eyes. Allison spared her the briefest of glances before looking expectantly at Slattery.

"We need to discuss a better strategy for the Panama Canal. Castillo called. The latest shipment of coal was decimated. That's three out of our last four supply runs that have been compromised by the South American pirates."

Rachel stood and tucked back her chair. "I'll let you go on with your day."

Slattery's grin was more a grimace, and she bit her lip to prevent a smile.

Hong Kong, New China

The wet market by the docks was no less chaotic than the trade merchants' stalls in Shanzhai. A bustling hub packed with many structures beaten and stripped by the harsh salt-ridden air. Beside her, Jesse drew the last nicotine from her smoke and flicked it to the ground, snuffing it with her foot.

The relentless wind picked up, and she drew her faded army green jacket tighter. "I want answers."

Sasha's eyes closed briefly. "Jesse—"

"Peng can't do shit in the middle of a typhoon. If we leave now, we can make it to Shanzhai before it hits and figure out where Wu Ming went before MSS knows we're there—"

"He's probably halfway across the ocean by now—"

"He killed my brother."

Sasha's lips pressed together hard, and she watched Pablo loading crates stuffed with contagious cure at the base of the docks onto a fishing trawler. Her cheeks depressed where she chewed them, and after several drawn moments, she returned eye contact. "If I agree to this, we go for intel only."

Jesse's chin lifted.

"I'm serious. Pablo's right—whatever we almost walked into was big enough for Peng to level an entire city to keep it quiet. If you're telling me you have a death wish? A sidearm can do that job just fine."

The hooded stare Jesse returned was unnervingly blank, and when no answer forth came, Sasha lifted a brow.

"Fine," Jesse finally drawled. "Intel only."

Guest Review responses to St. Augustine Epilogue:

Guest 1 Thank you! Re: Rachel shooting her shot: From Rachel's perspective, after Sasha mentioned Tom was her combat instructor, she assumed they had a long-term mentor/mentee relationship similar to hers with Dr. Hunter. Given they'd married other people, and a relationship would be forbidden, Rachel concluded Tom isn't the kind to break fraternization regulations, but there may have been underlying feelings he didn't act on. Prior to Pablo's arrival, Rachel didn't plan to revisit the subject, but after observing how close Sasha and Pablo were, and learning that they'd left together, Rachel assumed they were romantic. Rachel couldn't decide, based on the limited interactions she'd observed, if Tom's apparent care toward Sasha was platonic/familial or something more, so she pushed for clarification. When I read your comment about the miserable ending, I chuckled. After I finish this one, I will post it in the excerpts fiction. I do feel bad for Tex being the second choice (and knowing it). I think that scene was just a simple moment of connection between them, Rachel was having a low, and Tex was there to step in, but I'm unsure if there's enough for something deeper on her side. Tex is still pretty friend-zoned.

Guest 2 Thank you! And I think it was you who commented on 2008 also, so I'll say thank you for dropping a note there, and sorry for such a delay. This is my favorite universe also, and I'm so glad you felt part one wrapped in a way that was satisfying, but open enough to continue. I've decided to start posting because it's flowing, and I don't want it to end up being a year between part I and II. I really can't believe how fast time is flying! I hope it lives up to your expectations!