PART I
The lunch rush at Naval Amphibious Base Coronado always sounded the same—steel trays clattering, chairs scraping, cooks shouting over the industrial hum, and the steady drone of hundreds of service members stuffing down food before the next block of training. It wasn’t a quiet place, not by any stretch, but today a peculiar energy ran through the air. A kind of electric tension that hadn’t yet found its spark.