Johnson, Brian Sergeant First Class former sergeant first class, was frustrated. He had enlisted in the army so he could get away from the community where he grew up. His original plan was to enlist for a few years then use his pay to buy into a business, but his first few weeks in the army he found something he didn’t know he was missing. He found discipline, honor, and what truly being in a team meant. Even growing up with his large family, he soon found that his real brothers and sisters were the people he was meeting in the army. For a long time it was all he cared about, to him ’Be All You Can Be’ meant being the best soldier he could. In his off time he read every manual he could get his hands on, studied books written by successful soldiers, and found his role models in senior non-commissioned officers around him.

In 2001 Johnson found renewed purpose. He had already become a non-commissioned officer in an infantry company and lead his soldiers to Afghanistan, then a few years later into Iraq. He continued to learn new concepts of warfare and adapted his methods. His actions were significant enough for the Department of the Army to select him to become a Drill Sergeant, he relished the opportunity to shape new generation of soldiers. Then the rules started to change and he struggled to adapt to the current iteration of the new army.

In 2008 the situation came to a head when he had refused to implement or follow new guidelines for training soldiers. He believed those guidelines would leave them unprepared for the realities of warfare. He had a blowup argument with his battalion commander who was in full support of implementing lower standards and lower stress training that ended in him resigning his post as a Drill Sergeant. Instead he found out that charges were being pressed for insubordination, dereliction of duty, and disrespect to an officer. He quickly found himself railroaded through a court martial and dishonorably discharged. With nothing else to do and none of his benefits valid, he fell back to something similar to his original plan. He moved to Houston, started a career as a personal trainer and CrossFit instructor, slowly rebuilding his life and self-esteem and even afforded to start his own studio. Then, on his way home from his last class of the day he had run into a war.

Fighting side by side with Hoss, the wild eyed old man dressed in an older style cav officer’s uniform had made him feel something he hadn't felt in years. When the zombies had pressed in at the barricade Hoss had taken the head off one who had latched onto his weapon with an incredible strength. Johnson felt the stirrings of brotherhood return for the first time in years. He could see the same feelings in the eyes of the others who joined them.

But what was frustrating Johnson currently was the fact that he wasn’t going to get a chance to eat a proper meal before his first official military mission in years.

It was still night as he followed Hoss as they briskly made rounds through the dining facility collecting their team members and headed toward their freshly fueled helicopters. They wove around formations of soldiers illuminated by portable lighting, performing equipment checks and roll calls. Even if they hadn't had the briefing they could tell by the quiet level of tension in the air that something big was about to happen. Hoss gathered them near the side of the helipad where their rides were parked and along with precisely relaying the details of their flight plan he gave an efficient briefing of their mission. They were tagging along with several national guard infantry companies from Nevada and Arizona, a detachment of air force security forces from nearby air bases, and the military police force from Fort Irwin. They were to leave immediately to lend their experience to the operation. Because radios weren't reliable past a quarter of a mile they would be regulated to a strict flight plan, outside its boundaries were being patrolled by close air support aircraft, bombarded by high level bombers, or in the field of fire of specter gunships. Sierra Charlie 1 & 2 were to drop them off then immediately return to base to run ammo and bring any stragglers to reinforce them.

As they loaded into their helicopters, they could see rows and rows of chinooks and Blackhawks starting to spin their rotors as the rest of the forces in the area began to file aboard. As a pleasant surprise, Johnson found Gomez, a man missing most of his left hand, had smuggled him a to go box from the dining facility.

Just as he was about to dig into a creasy looking burger Gomez interrupted him, “a chaplain is about to lead a prayer, he said we can join them even if we aren’t soldiers anymore”

“Where's this happening?”

“Edge of the flight line, five mikes.”

Johnson followed along with the group to stand at the back of the formation of airmen and soldiers who were lined up by squads.

A chaplain wearing combat fatigues with a major's rank on his hat and a priest’s collar, stepped out in front of the assembled men.

“Brothers and sisters, I would like to read a passage from the book of psalms and say a brief prayer. Blessed be the Lord my Rock, who trains my hands for war and my fingers for battle. My lovingkindness and my fortress, my high tower and my deliverer, my shield and the One in whom I take refuge, who subdues a people under me.”*

“O Prince of peace, we humbly ask your protection for these men and women gathered here in military service.

Give them unflinching courage to defend

with honor, dignity and devotion,

the rights of all who are imperiled

by injustice and evil.

Be their rock, their shield, and their stronghold and let them draw their strength from you.

For you are God, for ever and ever.**

Amen”

A chorus of agreement and “amens” resounded from the assembled Troops who had bowed their heads in prayer.

The officer in command of the mission, a lieutenant colonel with a pure white high and tight stepped back in front of the formation.

“Thank you chaplain. Company commanders, take charge of your companies, get these ass kickers into their cans of whoop-ass and lets get in the air! HOOAH!”

There was thunderous response of hundreds of soldiers yelling “HOOAH!" in unison then the company commanders started directing their formations to their respective aircraft.

Johnson ate his burger in silence, with a small barely visible smile. It was reassuring to see that not even an alien invasion would get the chaplain corps down. Even if he didn’t have his previous rank and accolades, it was good to be back.

After what seemed like a short time they cleared the San Gabriel Mountains and began their approach to LAX.

It looked like the entire city of Los Angeles was burning as they flew over. The early morning darkness was illuminated by flashes of fire as bombs fell on the outskirts of the city. Constant tracers seemed to be raining from close air support aircraft that patrolled the city, engaging anything that moved without body heat. The hills to the north were blazing with small fires and illuminated by tracers from small arms fire where the airborne were holding a line to keep the zombies from spreading further north. The whole of the center of LA was a huge pillar of smoke as skyscrapers and homes burned. They flew over scenes of carnage, dropping to just over the height of the tree tops. The doors of the helicopters were thrown open and team members grabbed the mounted door guns. Donaldson readied the mk19 grenade launcher with a savage grin on his face and he started firing grenades into any movement. The roads near the airport were choked with abandoned vehicles, and as they drew closer to the airport the other door gunners started firing at any group of zombies they flew past. Behind them were almost a hundred other transport helicopters, guns blazing to clear the landing areas.

Los Angeles Airport was the size of a small city, pairs of Chinooks split off and unloaded their cargo of troops near each of the main gates. Scar company set down near the main parking structure. Sierra Charlie 1 & 2 only staying grounded long enough for ammo and equipment to be pushed out, then took off and headed back east.

Their mission was to sweep and secure the parking structure then if possible, assist in clearing the terminals and surrounding buildings.

Scar Company moved as two teams covering each other, the moved between cars that had been left on the road and into the first layer of the main parking structure.