The leader of the Commonwealth soldiers opened Deanna's wallet and stared at its contents for a long time before finally lifting his head. He then signaled the people behind him to lower their weapons.
"Congresswoman Monroe, we are an organization established after the collapse of the entire system. For certain reasons, we must strictly control the people we rescue, so I hope you'll forgive me if I offended you earlier."
Deanna smiled and shook her head to show that she didn't mind, then said, "I'd like to go home if possible. I'd like to know if you can help me."
The squad leader asked, "Congresswoman, may I ask exactly where you live?"
Everything was going according to plan. After that, Deanna gave him the address of her old home, and just as she was about to ask another question, the man in front of her spoke again.
"That would be a problem, since that area is within our zone of influence. I'll have to trouble you to accompany us for an inspection."
"Do we really need to be inspected just to go back home?" Alicia asked with a serious look.
Hearing the dissatisfaction in Alicia's tone, the soldier didn't rush his response. He explained slowly, "I'm very sorry. I'm just following protocol—I'm simply a soldier. My superiors can have a more specific discussion about your situation. All I can say is that accepting our inspection won't cause you any harm."
Deanna looked silently at her husband, a trace of satisfaction in her eyes. After making eye contact, the two of them nodded.
"All right, we can accept the inspection. But I'd like to speak with your commanding officer."
Hearing this, the soldier hesitated. His eyes showed a thoughtful look before he gave a brief apologetic gesture and walked to a corner of the room—he was probably contacting his superiors by radio at that moment.
Deanna's expression remained calm; there wasn't the slightest sign of nervousness. She even looked at the equipment of the people in front of her with genuine interest. Jason had once said this was a large-scale organization, and part of its productivity had been restored—a fact that was clearly visible by looking at these soldiers.
The soldier was gone for quite a while and seemed to be waiting for something. After about half an hour, he returned and handed Deanna the radio, motioning for her to take it.
A bit confused, Deanna picked it up, and as soon as she did, she heard a woman's voice from the other side.
"Deanna?"
"Yes, it's me."
"Carly Fiorina."
The female voice gradually overlapped with a figure from Deanna's memory, and her expression filled with surprise. "My God, Carly? It's incredible that you're alive!"
"Yes. You went to Washington and we never heard from you. I thought your temporary settlement had fallen too…"
The two spoke for about ten minutes, and finally Deanna smiled and handed the radio back to the Commonwealth soldiers.
For some reason, when she returned the radio, she could clearly sense that their behavior had become more respectful.
"Mrs. Monroe, now that everything's been cleared up, let's head to our temporary station. There are still many things to take care of."
Deanna nodded.
Just as several people were walking out of the bar, Merle pointed toward the street corner not far away. A man in a camouflage military uniform appeared, holding a sniper rifle—it was Jon Seda.
Several soldiers were about to raise their weapons to issue a warning, but Deanna stopped them. "This is Sergeant Jon. He's one of the few remaining officers and has sworn to ensure my safety."
At last, the group had successfully established contact with the federal outpost without any danger.
However, what came next went a bit beyond their expectations, and things were about to become much more complicated than they had imagined.
...
Atlanta, Central Base.
After several days of busy work, things at the prison had finally returned to normal, and people's lives had calmed down.
The people from Washington were very satisfied with life here—not only did they have enough food and clothing, but some pre-apocalypse recreational activities had even started to resume within the base.
After all, what's stopping them from training to maintain their own safety? Even if not everyone does that, they still need other activities to make their lives a bit brighter, right?
At that moment, Jason was sitting at his office desk, staring at the pending tasks recorded in his notebook, feeling his head spin.
This was what he had told Rick and the others to handle before leaving.
It had technically been done, but now it seemed that they had only completed the bare minimum.
According to scouts and checkpoints outside the central base, graffiti depicting Fireflies had been found, along with several armed convoys that were unusual to see in that part of Birmingham—but they hadn't made any moves yet.
He had heard of that group before; apparently, they were a military faction possibly opposed to the CRM and its ongoing plans. Therefore, Jason needed to stay alert regarding them.
Just as he covered his face, worrying about the new problems he was about to face, several people in charge of the base began entering the room one after another.
They all looked at their gloomy commander strangely. What was wrong with this guy? Why did he look so unhappy?
Seeing that it was almost time for everyone to arrive, Jason organized the documents on his desk and began to collect his thoughts.
"All right, everyone's here. I called you today to discuss the direction of the S.C.T.'s development and our future."
Jason handed each of them a file containing documents explaining in greater detail what was going to be done next.
This time, it wasn't just the captains of the central base but also Ezekiel, Nick, Victor, Jesus, and others who had come from Washington.
To keep everyone's morale balanced, it was impossible to exclude them—and that wasn't Jason's intention anyway. He wanted to expand the number of leaders with true capability.
"There are several new matters. First, the children at the central base will be trained just like those at the Atlanta base. Second, the integration of new survivors. Third, the expansion of our safe territory—and as for taking control of all Birmingham, we need to discuss it."
"All the details are in the documents you have. You'll find the exact survivor count and our real capacity—how many people we can feed per year with our current resources."
Everyone focused on the papers in their hands. After all, this was directly related to their future lives. They read carefully, and the office grew very quiet for a while.
The detailed plans mainly covered what Jason had mentioned, but with further notes on logistics and materials.
As for the children's training plan, that was something already being done at the Georgia base, and according to Shane, it was going very well.
Jason didn't want children to be exposed to too much too early, but basic daily training could start in advance. After all, proper growth needed to be ensured. In this kind of environment, good skills and aim had become essential survival abilities.
Then came the issue of continuing to search for survivors. Jason planned to go out once everything was in order, but the prerequisite was to fully complete the outer wall of the base. The outer wall of the central base was critical to the next stage of development and had to be finished as soon as possible.
And as for whether they could take Birmingham—that matter would remain on the table for discussion.