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Major and his squad were gearing up for another patrol, Major hoping as they did so that this one would go smoothly and without incident. As he watched Jordan poking at Captain Seattle and trying to get under his skin, he wasn't feeling overly confident of their ability to straighten up and take things seriously.

"Yo, Seattle," she said, and he turned his head toward her, smacking his jaw into her fist, which was hovering there just for that purpose. She giggled and took her fist back. "It's too easy."

To his credit, Seattle smiled and left it at that.

Behind Major, he heard a familiar voice echoing against the metal and tile of the locker room. "I'm glad something is."

Chase Graves. His boot still not tied, Major straightened and turned to face him, and all three of them snapped to attention.

"Since it's been three days and no one can find the camera phone video of Tucker Fritz getting called up to Team Z by our very own cadet." He pointed at Jordan, his displeasure evident. Jordan sensibly kept her mouth shut and her eyes down, and Chase Graves turned to Major. "What's the plan to correct the situation, Lilywhite?"

"We're going to start hitting places where zombies aren't exactly welcome," Major told him. He wasn't wild about taking a newbie crew, and one that had already proven it could be nettled too easily by anti-zombie sentiments, into those locales, but he had very little choice in the matter. They had to find that video, and the owner of the phone had almost certainly gone to ground somewhere that he was sure they wouldn't—or couldn't—follow. "Dead Ender territory."

If Chase Graves shared Major's concerns it was impossible to tell from his utter lack of reaction. "Good. Get it done before this video bites us in the ass!" He turned to leave, utter silence following him …

Until, to Major's disappointment and irritation, at the end of the line he heard Jordan mutter, "We get it, bro."

He closed his eyes. God, she really was stupid.

No. She was a teenager. Just a kid, thrown into a situation she wasn't prepared to handle, expected to act like a seasoned soldier without the time for anything close to an adequate amount of training. Still, the lesson of when to keep your mouth shut was an early one to learn, and she was not getting it so far.

Unfortunately, Graves had heard her, too. He stopped short in the doorway, one balled fist lifted. Major wasn't certain if he was going to hit the wall or Jordan, but then he appeared to think better of it, opening his hand before he turned back toward his insubordinate subordinate. Standing in front of Jordan, he looked down at her with his trademark intense stare. "Do you, Gladwell?" he said quietly. "Then you also must get that the only reason you're not a popsicle already is because those breeders don't know what they have."

She shook her head. "They have a video of me scratching a douchebag."

Major winced. She really had no idea how serious the situation was. None at all. He had tried to get through to her, but apparently he hadn't gotten far enough. He stepped out of line, spelling it out to her in small words. "They have a video of a Fillmore Graves soldier scratching an unarmed human civilian. That's America's worst nightmare."

Jordan didn't have a response to that.

Without another look at her, Chase Graves turned to Major. "Find the video. Before Tucker and his friends figure that out." His tone made it clear that he would not accept failure.

When he was gone, Major turned to the two kids. "Look, I know you're new at this. I know you've had no time to get used to New Seattle, life as a zombie, working as a mercenary—any of it. But this isn't a game. It isn't funny. The consequences to that video getting out could be dire."

Jordan rolled her eyes. "Come on, Major. You and Colonel Mustard need to lighten up. So the video gets out—what's the worst that can happen? I look like a badass and everyone in New Seattle is scared of me?" She held up her fist for Captain Seattle to bump, but he looked at her with alarm, Major was glad to see.

He got close to her just as Chase Graves had done, holding her gaze until the smile faded from her face. "Try this on for size: That video gets out, the rest of America sees it. Someone takes it to the President, tells him that's what America can expect if zombies are allowed to continue to hold Seattle, he believes them … and they nuke us."

"Nuke us? No one's going to nuke an American city."

"You forget that we're not really American any longer. Do zombies have a country? Do we have citizenship? What rights do we have? None of that has been decided yet. Chase Graves is trying to get answers to those questions, but he can't do that if he's having to come down here and be smarted off to by teenagers who don't know enough to take what's going on seriously. As far as the rest of America is concerned—as far as the Dead Enders are concerned—you killed a man, in broad daylight and in cold blood, and they have video of it. Do you get that?"

"But he's not dead!"

"In every way that matters to humans, he is. They think we're monsters, Jordan. Our job is to teach them that we aren't—and that means showing restraint when we deal with them. Do you think you can do that, or should I recommend to Chase Graves that he put you in the deep freeze until you can learn to control yourself?" He really didn't want to follow through on that threat … but he also didn't want to see her get hurt, or have her bring more trouble to the innocent zombies of New Seattle.

She looked away. "I can do that."

"Good. Let's move out."