by Paul Kirk
“Of course she has, but it pissed her off,” answered the major.
“I see,” said GT.
“I don’t,” said Shamus. “That’s just nature taking its course.”
Major O’Malley sighed, not sure he wanted to share his thoughts. But then again, these three were different. They had seen and done things many men would never believe possible. They had survived it all and remained intact with such a depth of knowledge and experience that they had become invaluable to Colonel Starkes and her goals as President of the United States. He liked these men and trusted all three. Besides, it wasn’t like his thoughts at the moment were some great national secret.
“The colonel sees the wild packs as symbolic.”
“How so?” asked Shamus, intrigued.
“Her whole being is focused on one goal—regaining the control of the country.” He paused, knowing he hadn’t spoken quite correctly. “Wait—I didn’t mean it like she’s power-hungry or anything. I meant that she wants to take control to organize. She wants the country to be efficient—she wants it producing and trading its products. Most of all, she wants the country to be rebuilt safe for its citizens.”
“That’s why we signed on, major,” said GT.
“She’ll take the fucking predators to task. Any and all,” said the major, passionately. “It’s in her nature. She doesn’t know any other way.”
GT, Scott, and Shamus glanced at one another with an unspoken understanding. “With your help, major, she really might do it.”
“Thanks, Shamus.” Blushing, he stared at the bearing in GT’s hand. “See if you guys can fix that bird so we can head outta here on schedule.”
“You got it, major.”
CHAPTER 8.19-Renaldo and Gabriela
“Larry? You there? Over.”
“Go ahead, Luke. I copy.”
“Phoenix nearby? Over.”
“Yep. Over.”
“Good. How far back are you?”
“On Arlington. Over.”
“How far on Arlington?”
“Probably halfway up the hill behind you and your team. Call it a mile.”
“Still movin’?”
“Taking it slow. The log-sups are locating a spot to settle in for the night. There’s a Pizza Hut that might work as command. Over.”
“Negative. Over.”
“Say again?”
Phoenix stood with Larry outside the lead trucks. They’d exited to better scan the area since, for the past twenty minutes; the log-sups were insisting they stop for the evening.
“Negative on the halt. Over.”
Still pissed from the bridge and aerial assaults earlier, Phoenix continued to assess the impact from the recent loss of men and machines. He grew more determined to press on and find the bastards that took those killing shots on the bridge. Hearing Luke's voice on the radio telling him how to run his army, Phoenix erupted in fury and grabbed Larry’s arm.
“Tell that fucker to explain what’s happening. Now!”
Larry Reed knew not to question the volatile mood.
“Luke, provide details. What’s going on? Over.”
Shifting focus, Phoenix ignored the radio chatter and felt a sudden predatory calm overtake him. Fresh prey was discovered in his line of sight and he truly relished the immediate distraction. Settling down his mood, he tracked the approach of Reggie, one of his more senior scouts. With purpose, Reggie and his second in command, Cinch, carried two struggling children, a beautiful package tossed before him, bound and gagged. Focused, Phoenix took immediate notice of each child splayed on the ground at his feet. Intrigued, he waited for the new captures to rise. They did so quickly, graceful despite the tight bonds on hands and feet. Once standing, Reggie and Cinch held the children firmly by the shoulders and throat.
“What’s this, Reggie?” Studying the children, one male and the other female, Phoenix took his time considering this sudden turn of events. A pleasurable surge of blood swelled his loins.
“Found ‘em hiding in that burnt down Midas Muffler shop, sir. Thought you might like to take a look, sir.”
Dirty, but well fed, both were small and fit. The boy was probably thirteen and the girl somewhere around eleven. The clothes and hiking boots on each were newer, sensible for travel and survival in today’s world, though the girl wore a rather gaudy gold ring and bangle bracelets that caught the eye.
“I see…now,” said Phoenix. He glanced at Reggie and Cinch, before shifting back to devour the beauty of the two children. He imagined them cleaned up with hair combed, appreciating the fact that his scouts had brought them before him, knowing his predilection for the exotic. “What do we got here?”
Stepping close and reaching toward the boy, he went to touch the long, dark hair, before the boy flinched away. Nodding to Reggie that this small act of defiance was fine, Phoenix moved to crouch in front of the girl; he studied her coffee-tanned skin and deep-black eyes. He touched a full head of luxuriant black hair before she pulled away. Clearly, they were brother and sister, the brother older maybe by a year or two. Phoenix stood and backed up a few steps to better see them both. He ignored the sounds of Larry on the radio as his mind began to focus exclusively on the two children. The boy stared hard into Phoenix’s eyes. The small girl tried to do the same. Clearly, they were not used to authority, captivity, or anyone exercising control. That will change, Phoenix thought.
“I want names. You first, boy.”
Reggie pulled out the gag and when no answer was forthcoming, Reggie swatted him in the head. Still no answer.
“Hmm, interesting. I want names. Kill the girl if he doesn’t answer in ten seconds.”
The reply was immediate.
“Renaldo.”
“Good enough for now. And you, my dear?”
Cinch pulled out her gag, perhaps a bit more gently. The young girl gave no response above the intense radio chatter between Larry and Luke.
“The same applies in reverse, you understand, my little beauty? I kill your brother.”
“Gabriella,” she said. She shivered after the admission.
"It's okay, Gabby," said Renaldo softly.
“Thank you...Gabby,” said Phoenix.
"Only I can call her that!" said Renaldo. The fury vibrated in his voice.
Phoenix turned to Reggie and Cinch. He had no further need for them and they were now simply in the way. “A good find, Reggie. You made your mark today.”
“Thank you, sir. No problem, sir.”
“Take 300 for you and Cinch for the find. See Murphy.”
“Yes, thank you sir!”
Distracted, Phoenix continued to stare at the children. He had expected both men to leave immediately, but Reggie lingered.
“Um, sir? There’s a few things you should know about—” said Reggie.
“Dismissed!”
“Yes, sir.”
Reggie left quickly with Cinch to attend to other matters. Walking past Larry, he whispered a clear warning that the children were dangerous. On the other hand, Reggie was relieved at the immediate dismissal, and by the fact that he didn’t have to report that three of his men were killed taking these two youngsters into captivity. Had he been allowed, he would’ve informed Phoenix that the two children took their squad by surprise when they’d entered the Midas shop. The girl made quick use of a nine-inch blade that sliced Krug into bits while her brother took Crisco and Stringman down in less than ten seconds with a shotgun before his men returned fire and subdued. It was only by sheer, brute force and the confinement within the Midas stock room that enabled the remainder of his team to take them down in capture. Seeing the two children move during the brutal takedown, it was obvious they were trained to fight from an early age; the efforts not to bruise or damage either one made the capture especially challenging. Larry Reed nodded, but was intent on listening to Luke on the radio in order to update Phoenix. When Luke's update was complete, Larry demanded Phoenix’s attention.
“Luke says we got an enemy team of mil
itary men up ahead.”
Breaking Phoenix’s reverie, Larry kept a wary eye on the children, gauging their propensity for danger based on Reggie’s comment. But feeling pressed for time, he pushed for full attention.
“Phoenix? They’re ‘bout 400 clicks out past Luke on Brownsville Road.”
“Take care of it, uncle. Can’t you see I’m busy?” Phoenix smiled, exposing his perfect white teeth, continuing to gaze at both children. Eventually, the girl began to shake under his gaze. Seeing this, her brother hopped closer in his bindings to stand in front of her, blocking further view.
“A brave boy, are you, Renaldo?” asked Phoenix. He was met with a surprisingly chilling stare and a verbal spat of profanity.
“Vai se Foder.”
“Intriguing. Was that Spanish? Portuguese? Italian?”
Larry stepped into Phoenix’s line of sight, persistent. He blocked the view toward the children completely.
“What do you want to do? We going after these guys now? Do we wait until they hole up and have Luke slip in on ‘em? Or what?”
“Larry—”
“We don’t have time for your indulgence, right now, Phoenix—”
“I’ll make time!”
Taking a huge risk and fearful of the outcome, Larry pushed on. “Nephew, I gotta say…the men…they’re talkin’ some.”
Angry, Phoenix confronted Larry with a face full of passion. A lust for release was evident, but he did manage to regain his cold, unemotional perspective after a few seconds. “What they sayin’?”
“Bunch of crap…but there’s some talk that everybody's taking pot shots at us and you're doing nothing.”
“That it?”
“Um, no, that you’re acting…”
Larry sensed a fury building in Phoenix that might not be able to be controlled. He hesitated.
“Go on, acting like what?”
“Well, like a spoiled kid, they say, distracted, unstrung, not leading us anywhere but to certain death.”
“I want names. All of them.”
The cold demand sent a shiver up Larry’s spine. He refused to let it take hold. “No.”
“No?”
“Because, at a certain level, they’re right. You’re acting…unhinged.”
As expected, Phoenix snatched the Taurus Judge from his belt. The sound of the trigger cocking was heard above Luke’s voice on the radio demanding an immediate response. The gun was placed up to Larry’s forehead. Resigned, he simply smiled.
“Shoot me now, Phoenix. Go ahead. I fuckin’ dare you—”
“Uncle…” Phoenix trembled in anger. Larry, on the other hand, ceased to fear, taking a final step to stand face to face with his nephew. Knowing his life was either over or not, depending on how he’d gauged the depth of his relationship with his nephew, he pressed on. Despite the fury radiating from Phoenix, Larry smiled and placed a gentle hand on his nephew's shoulder. He had done this same gesture many times in their prior life, when times were easier. He knew he was taking a risk in doing so at the moment.
“You’ll listen to reason just this once, dammit.” Larry’s voice was soft, but persistent.
Phoenix lowered his weapon, letting his anger ebb. Studying Larry’s face, he saw the concern and care evident. Calming further, he glanced at the gun in his hand. He uncocked and placed the gun at his belt and said nothing, waiting for Larry’s next words.
“You ready to lead the men again, Phoenix? Can you do what you do best?”
Phoenix smiled, feeling a persistent and foolhardy anger seep away at the request. Self-analyzing his recent behavior, he saw his actions from the perspective of his men. Intuitively, he knew there was some truth to their statements. Embarrassed, he realized that he’d recently lost that firm element of control, so necessary in commanding men. He recognized that his poor choices had made the men suffer on his behalf. He would not do so again.
“Say something. Quit thinkin’,” suggested Larry. He sensed that he was not out of the woods yet and pushed for a response.
Phoenix nodded, touching the Taurus in his belt. Reviewing the impact of his recent behavior, he gained some modicum of control. He laughed. “I hear you, Larry.” There was a release in Phoenix’s laughter that spoke of reaching an understanding.
“Good. I’m glad—What the hell?” said Larry. He was pushed hard into Phoenix.
"What the fuck, uncle!" said Phoenix, furious and stumbling back a step.
The Beretta was snatched from Larry's holster and the weapon cocked. Larry tracked the quick shift of the gun in his direction. Collapsing to the ground with his left thigh exploding in pain, he stared at the little girl sitting on the ground not far away, hurriedly slipping out of her leg bindings. Eyes squinted in pain, he saw her stand and start to make her way to the safety of the white pickup nearby.
Writhing in pain, he heard the gun fired four more times only to see Sinclair and Titmouse who were rushing from the truck twenty feet away, drop hard to the ground. They had reacted to the events slower than they should have. Sin was raising his shotgun when he was hit by one bullet center mass with the other passing through his left eye and cheekbone. Titmouse had reached for the gun strapped to his thigh holster when a well-placed shot, center mass in his body armor, stood him straight up in time for the second bullet striking his forehead. Renaldo turned and pointed the Beretta at Phoenix.
“Lead man. Phoenix, you monte de merda! I shoot you die.”
Stunned, Phoenix reached for his gun until Renaldo fired. The bullet streamed right past his left ear. Always sharp in his assessment of men, Phoenix recognized the shot was a purposeful miss, made only to show intent.
“You’re in deep shit, boy.” Phoenix growled.
“To the truck. Now.”
“If I don’t?” Before he said anything further, Phoenix felt the sting of the next bullet, slicing meat off his right triceps. Forcing himself not to wince, he stared at Renaldo.
“I'll admit, that got my attention.”
“Tell all these men comin’ to hold fire. Hold fire! You hear me? Me or Gabby gets hit you die.”
The events outside Phoenix's fury rushed in around him, beyond his tunnel vision. He raised his arms quickly to hold off the incoming men. “Hold Fire! Hold Fire!”
Men ran toward them. Many already had rifles and automatic weapons or handguns pointed in their direction. For a brief second, Phoenix wondered if his men would decide to listen.
“Make them stay back, lead man,” suggested Renaldo. His voice was both calm and commanding.
“Stay back! That’s an order. Stay back.” Phoenix glanced at the boy and was, despite himself, quite impressed. And seriously pissed.
Renaldo scanned the men fast approaching, gauging intent. “Walk to the truck. Then, you drive.”
Phoenix turned toward the truck, but Renaldo stopped him. “Wait, puta. Stop. Take out that Taurus. Set it on the ground.”
“Fat chance you fuck.”
“And turn and walk backwards in front of me to the truck.”
“You hard of hearing? I said fat chance.”
Renaldo lined up the Berretta onto his groin. “I will not ask again…Lead man.”
The steel in the young boy’s voice belied his age. Phoenix moved quickly to set the gun on the asphalt. “Can you believe this shit?” Phoenix yelled to the sky and to no one in particular. He ignored Larry writhing on the ground.
“Move!” yelled Renaldo.
Phoenix turned and stumbled forward, the Berretta pressed hard against his spine.
"Stop!"
Phoenix stopped and Renaldo quickly picked up the Taurus.
"Move!"
They made it to the truck where Gabriella sat inside tucked tight onto the passenger floorboards. A black gun from the glove box was in her small hands and aimed in their direction.
“I’ll get in first, lead man. You follow. You drive.”
“Whatever you say, Renaldo.” Numb, like in a dream, Phoenix knew this could not b
e happening to him. He decided it was best to play along.
“Tell your men not to follow. Make it clear!”
“Don’t follow us! That’s an order. Larry? You understand?”
“I’m gonna kill him!” said Larry.
"Do you understand, Larry?"
"Okay! But, I'm still gonna kill him!"
Phoenix slid into the driver seat, feeling the barrel of the Taurus pushed into his temple. The cocking sound was quite familiar. It made him smile insanely in remembrance until he felt the Berretta also pushed into his side. Glancing quickly, he watched Renaldo study the exit route he planned to take.
“Close the door, you puta. Start the truck. Drive. That way. Now!”
Phoenix sensed the extra pressure of the barrel to the side of his head and reached to pull the door shut. "Okay. Okay!" He started the truck, putting it in gear.
Renaldo spoke to his sister without turning his focus from Phoenix. “Gabby? Remember, we can’t shoot him yet, okay? Okay?”
“Kay, Nully.”
“Do like I told you we’d do for now. Okay? Just like Daddy trained us.”
“’Kay.” Trembling, Gabby sought calm in her brother's words and steadied the gun swaying from side to side. It was clear she wanted to be rid of the presence of this evil man. Raw emotion getting the better of her, Gabby regained her fury. “I don’t like him!”
Staring into the barrel of the .45 Colt held by the young girl, Phoenix knew his time had come. He steadied his focus on the quivering tiny finger on the trigger.
Renaldo made a quick effort to console her. “I know. I know. But listen—”
“He was gonna do what Papa said, wasn’t he? Wasn’t he, Nully?”
“Gabby! I need your daddy game face. Now!”
“’Kay, Nully.” Gabby transformed into a small girl composed well beyond her years. She slipped into better position on the seat, keeping below the window. Much calmer now, she lowered the window, the gun was held loosely in her lap. She was ready to raise and fire out the window, if instructed.
Phoenix tried to regain control. “You know, Nully. You’re gonna die today despite what you think.” The cold demeanor spoke volumes. Phoenix began calculating odds and action vectors. Regaining confidence that this little event might be controlled and managed like any other predicament, he continued. "What you need to—"