Three planes and three hundred additional warriors take off on schedule. Beck is on one plane, Nokita on the second, and I am leading the third. We have different destinations with my plane delivering me and my men closest to Washington, though still about three hundred miles away. Beck is landing near the northwestern Canadian border, and Nokita will be in the Florida panhandle. We plan to gather information on the human population as we head closer to Washington.
Mate, my beast whines when I try to fall asleep the first night without Marinah. I'm in an old barn with the men sleeping on mounds of hay trying to keep warm. The days are mild and nights cold. After living in Cuba with the wonderful year-round temperatures, cold is not in my vocabulary or at least it wasn't. From the look at
