The smell of barbecue won.
It always did.
Ten minutes later, Adrian found himself walking through the market district of Basa Air Base with Ryan on his left, Ramos on his right, and Chandrika somehow in the middle of all of them. The streets were more crowded than usual because news of the Bataan mission had already spread. People knew the refinery had been secured. They understood what it meant even if they didn't know the technical details.
Fuel.
Electricity.
Transportation.
A future.
The entire district felt livelier than normal.
Warm yellow lights hung above the streets, strung between buildings and utility poles. Food stalls occupied nearly every available corner, and the smell of grilled meat, noodles, coffee, and freshly baked bread filled the air. Children darted through the crowd carrying paper windmills and toy helicopters while musicians played old Filipino songs near the central fountain.
The apocalypse felt very far away tonight.
