The end of the day and there are still more problems than solutions. Chase tries to keep his eyes focused on the report in front of him, but his brain has other plans. His lids are heavy – too many nights without sleep worrying how he is going to keep an entire city alive – and his mind is growing slow and weak. Before the creation of "New Seattle" his mind was agile, a thousand details big and small would constantly click through a rotation, keeping him quick and smart, ready for action when the time came. It overwhelms him at times, knowing what he once was and what he has become now.

Lazy thoughts of nights on the beach in Mexico float in front of the words on the page, the waves washing the type from the paper. When was the last time he was there? 2013? 2012? A group of them – his brother Harrison and his wife Vivian Stoll, Eric Fillmore and his wife Becky - rented a house and stayed for two weeks; drinking, eating, talking, and laughing.

Harrison. His older brother. He should be here dealing with this mess. Or even smart and sarcastic Vivian. Harrison was the businessman, the leader behind the scenes; Chase was the leader in the field. That was the agreement when they started this company with Fillmore. Eric was a waste of good air but he brought the cash that was needed for the Graves brothers to start their company, and his wife Becky was good for the occasional secret romp when Chase came into town.

The business side was murky territory for him; Chase was trained to get in, get out, save lives, get the job done on the ground, not in the board room. That was what people hired their company to do – go into unreal situations and get everyone out safe and sound. Someone once told Chase he was "a commando with a conscience." Right now he wished he wasn't.

Pushing thoughts of Harrison out of his head, Chase imagines the warm night air on his skin and the soft sand beneath his feet. Then there was that girl he met on the beach – Cynthia? Charlotte? Cheyenne? – who spent the night in his bed before she went back to her frat-boy boyfriend at the nearby resort. He remembers her tight, perky breasts; the way she giggled when he went down on her and how it quickly changed to a deep, throaty moan; how her soft ass cheek fit perfectly in his large hand. He preferred blonds, but the brunette college student did in a pinch.

Leaning back in his chair, his fingers slide through his sandy-brown hair, grasping his follicles, and a huff of frustration escapes his lungs. Bouncing the chair back and forth in a gentle rhythm, Chase closes his eyes, indulgently allowing himself to remember the smell of sex and Coppertone on the smooth, tanned skin of his Mexico fling – part salty, part sweet. Saliva pools on his tongue. Having spent the better part of his military career eating rations, his sense of taste didn't seem to be a big loss, until he realized how much he missed the aroma of a woman when her thighs were wrapped around his head. That was the one taste he missed more than anything.

He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly through pursed lips, calming his desires. Weren't powerful men supposed to have mistresses? Right now he was the most powerful man in Seattle. Where the hell were the women falling all over themselves to be with him? He snickers at the image of scantily clad zombie women with snow white skin and black string bikinis draped across his leather office furniture like something out of a James Bond film. All he needed was the fluffy white cat and he was on his way to being a great villain.

"Sir?"

Chase launches himself to an upright position, his eyes wide in shock at the sight of Major Lilywhite standing on the other side of his desk, in his navy blue uniform Polo shirt and khakis.

"Jesus Christ, Lilywhite. Don't you knock?" He slams his palm on the paperwork, shaking the desk violently.

"I did. Guess you didn't hear me." Major mutters, picking up the stapler that is now precariously angled over the edge of the desk and sets it back gently. "General, I've been thinking about this Brother Love problem and I think I have a solution."

Brother Love - a.k.a. Angus McDonough - and his band of loyal followers; this was the latest thorn in Chase's side and he had quietly hoped they would just go about their pseudo-religious business without giving him any worries. When their group attacked a transport bus full of prisoners, many people in the community sided with the zealots, feeling that prisoners should be "donated" to the zombie cause anyway and for a second, Chase thought that if he left them alone, they could clean up New Seattle in a way that Fillmore-Graves could not. But as the weeks pass he has grown to realize that their covert actions are becoming a concern for both humans and zombies in the city.

Chase stands abruptly, pushing back his chair and crosses his arms. "Answers to problems! Excellent! This is what I like about you, Lilywhite; you don't just give me the problem and hope it all just magically solves itself."

"I try my best, sir." Major nods again, the corner of his mouth turning up to a crooked smile and he runs one hand through his dark brown hair.

"So tell me what you've got," Chase smiles, feeling for the first time today that something important may actual get accomplished.

"Well sir, I know you don't want to just go in and arrest them because you feel it will just elevate Brother Love to look like some sort of 'religious martyr', but we also need to keep tabs on their growing organization to stop them from leading any more feeding riots like we saw when they attacked that busload of prisoners. And right now, a lot of people in New Seattle see him as a sort of 'saviour' for giving them the food that we can't provide - although we still don't know exactly where they are getting their food from."

Chase wrinkles his nose in disgust. When he went to inspect the scene before Liv Moore and her merry group on the police force had their way with the carnage, the sight of the severed body parts flung through the street turned even his stomach.

"So that being said, I think we need to infiltrate their group and keep tabs on them - learn more about what's happening and who is actually in on things within their structure. But they'll be on the look-out for Fillmore-Graves people, so we need to think outside of the box."

Major drops a red file folder on Chase's desk, tapping the top of the papers with his index finger.

Chase frowns, picking up the file he looks at the label Major has written along the side. An involuntary snort of laughter follows as he reads it out loud.

"Operation Mars? What the hell is this? Are we going to get someone to load them all up in a rocket ship and shoot them into space?"

Laughing, Major reaches up to scratch his stubbled chin. "No sir – although I could get behind that idea too. This is a woman I found – Veronica Mars – who I think could help us. She's a private investigator that moved her company – Mars Investigations – into Seattle before we walled the city. I ran some details on her – she's a zombie and she was a very successful investigator when she lived in Neptune, California. In fact, she was the one who took down Kane Enterprises about ten-years ago for corporate espionage."

Running his index finger over the smooth surface of the file folder, Chase's eyes narrow. He remembers the fall of Kane Enterprises – not just because they were a bidder on the development of the software system for Fillmore-Graves, but also because Harrison had a lot of money wrapped up in Kane Software and he threw a fit when they took a nose-dive on the stock market.

He smiles to himself, his eyes still fixed on his desk.

"Took down an entire corporation, huh? That's all nice and white-collar, but can she handle a pack of crazy zombies with a Christ complex?"

Glancing between the file and Chase, Major nods. "Yes, I think she can. At one point, she did six-months in prison for shooting a man. There seemed to be a lot of extenuating circumstances around the case but the bottom line is that she seems to be good at emotionally detaching herself from situations, which is an asset to our operation, sir. I also thought that Brother Love wouldn't suspect a newcomer that was a woman as much as he would if they were a man."

Emotionally detached. Chase quietly wishes for the ability to emotionally detach most days. But when the lives of millions of zombies are at stake, he finds himself caring a bit too much.

"There's a lot more in the report I prepared for you, sir. If you want to look over it and we can talk about it..."

Shaking his head, Chase lifts his eyes back to Major. "I trust your judgement, Lilywhite. If you say this is the woman for the job, then this is the woman for the job."

Chase lowers himself back into his chair, a strange feeling tickling his brain. Curiosity. Wonder. He worked with many, many strong, competent women in the field over the years and he came to trust them, sometimes over many of their male counterparts. From the sounds of her, this private investigator sounded smart but with a slightly badass streak. Exactly the kind of person they needed at this moment.

"Who are you, Veronica Mars?" Chase says out loud, his fingers drumming on the arms of his chair.

"I'm sorry...?" Major stammers, his face registering confusion.

"Bring her in for a meeting. I want to talk to her before we hire her for this job."

Leaning back, Chase feels the corners of his mouth push into a legitimate wide smile. "Make it after hours so no one sees her. If she's going to try and get in with Brother Love and his crew, we want to make sure no one can connect her to us, and vice versa."

Major pauses for a second, his eyes narrowing as if unsure of what he is requesting. "Ummm...okay. I can do that."

Flicking his hand in the air, Chase's eyes land on the red file again. "Then go. Do it."

The sound of Major's boots echo in the silence before his form disappears through the door. Chase picks up the red folder and licks his lips with anticipation. Opening it, he pushes his chair back, lifting his boots up to rest on the top of his desk as he crosses his legs at the ankles.

"Finally, a report worth reading." He smiles as his eyes begin to skim the details on the first page.