Devastation

by Paul Kirk

  “Wow,” said Cameron. Reed whistled appreciatively. The rest of the men stared silently at the table of weapons. Reed took the initiative to touch an older Remington with a beautiful pearl inlay. The weapon was flawlessly restored.

  “Twelve shotguns to choose from here,” said Brad. “Each has been test fired for accuracy. Each was taken apart and painstakingly cleaned, piece-by-piece. And, each one of you is to select one of these shotguns as a gift—to use on the hunt over the next couple days. When you're done, you keep the gun as your own. This is a gift from General Mark Harmon.”

  “Brad, I...I don’t know what to say,” said Andy.

  “Kevin,” said Brad, “you have first selection. Andy, you’re next. Then Ryan and Toby is fourth—he’s Kevin’s Best Man. After that, Andy, you choose the order of the rest of your men.”

  “This is incredible, Brad!” said Kevin.

  “You mean, we can keep whatever one we want?” asked JR, unable to believe the generosity shown by Mark Harmon. JR had been shopping for another shotgun for about six months, but was unable to locate a weapon that was a comfortable fit for him and affordable. This solved his problem nicely and at no cost. He would gladly take any of the twelve shotguns on the table—they were all beautiful weapons.

  The volume in the room increased with everyone talking at once, thanking Brad and discussing with each other what they would pick when it was their turn.

  “Okay, guys,” yelled Andy. “Let’s calm down a bit. Brad, tell Mark thanks from all of us. He shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble.”

  “Tell him yourself, Andy—he’ll be waiting for us in the dining hall. Once there, we’ll have a quick meal, maybe a couple glasses of good whiskey, and an early start tomorrow morning.”

  “This is very impressive, Brad.”

  “I thought so too, Andy. I hadn’t considered Mark’s high regard of you guys. Kevin? How ‘bout you start the ball rolling with your pick?”

  Kevin grinned at the men before moving along the table. He wanted to complete a closer examination of each gun before making his selection. However, after only minimal deliberation, he settled on an old Beretta twelve-gauge with a hunting scene etched into the walnut stock. Reverently, he lifted the gun from the table, gently running his hand down the length of the barrel. He cracked the barrel open and moved aside. “This one’s mine,” he said.

  “My turn, I guess,” said Andy, approaching the table. “That Weatherby's probably my choice.”

  A few moans escaped from the remaining men—they all knew shotguns and many had their eyes set on the Weatherby. Andy carefully lifted the gun, examining the flawless walnut brown stock with a beautiful pearl and gold inlay. The twenty-gauge shotgun was at least eighty years old yet had no blemishes as far as Andy noticed. This gun had experienced tender loving care throughout its lifetime and Andy made a mental note to ask Mark where he had found it.

  “Mark told me you’d pick that one,” said Brad.

  “It’s a beautiful weapon, Brad. Did Mark guess what Kevin would pick?”

  “Yeah—he nailed that too.”

  “He knew?” asked Kevin.

  “Yeah, he did. He spent some time on you three—Kev, Andy, and Ryan—and thought he could guess each of your picks. He even had a guess for Toby, but he didn’t sound very sure of himself there.”

  “Which one did he say I would pick,” asked Ryan who was next in line.

  “Why don’t you pick it first and I’ll let you know if Mark was right."

  CHAPTER 10.14-The Summit Garrison

  “We’re good to go, ma’am.”

  “Excellent. It's about time. I hate waiting on this octane boost refinement process. Takes so damn long.” Colonel Starkes stood in the center of the heliport office headquarters, sifting though papers scattered about the floor. She picked up a crumbled, yellowed paper displaying an itinerary for an EMS transport. She looked up when the major continued the discussion.

  “Yeah, but waiting for this is better than the alternative. We’d be screwed without it.”

  “For sure. Thanks, major.”

  “No problem.”

  “Don’t let GT know how damn proud I am of him just yet.”

  “Ah, he knows already, ma’am. No big deal for him.”

  “Yeah, maybe you’re right, but just the same.”

  “I’ll keep it to myself. Hey, next subject. We’re still targeting a return to that town, Perryopolis, correct?”

  “Yeah, Perryopolis is the only signs of civilized life on Route 51 since we caught sight of Phoenix. We have some time to spare. Maybe they can help us out. That is, unless you and Shamus think our guys didn’t pass that way and are somewhere else.”

  “No, ma'am, Route 51 would be the best direct route for the meet at the Uniontown hospital.”

  Colonel Starkes held her index finger to her lips, gently tapping in thought. “Hey, what about your thoughts on Captain Daubney’s hook up with the colonel? You still think it took place?”

  “Sure. It must have. I have faith in the captain to carry out a successful search. Besides, Seal Team Six never fails so Daubney won't let that happen. Obviously, none of the other are slouches either. None of them, ma'am, none of them have ever let me down. I'm certain that if they can be found then they found them. Despite Phoenix’s army being in the area."

  “I love the confidence, major. But, they could all be dead and we’re chasing ghosts.”

  “No, ma’am. Too many positive variables support their progress.”

  “Okay, I’ll admit I’m lacking confidence in that right now, major. I need some perspective and reassurance. Give me your take before we head out.”

  “Sure, no problem, ma’am. We’ve seen Colonel MacMillen’s military record, correct?”

  “Go on.”

  “The guy does not die. No way. Consider all those missions. All successes. In fact, I'd say that Colonel MacMillen shines when the shit comes down.”

  “Well, let’s assume his military record has some real life merit.”

  “That's a given. And, Amanda believes completely and wholeheartedly in him. Especially if Marty’s still around to help out.”

  “Female confidence in her man, I get it. Go on.”

  “No, ma’am, this is a sense of confidence fully distilled from time spent with the man. This is a certainty based on witnessed competence. She scoffs at the mere concept that Phoenix, and whatever army he attempts to bring onto the same playing field, could hope to kill Colonel MacMillen, or Marty for that matter. It’s deep in her bones on this one.”

  “Okay, let’s assume her assumption carries some weight.”

  “And, Nicole, simply nods at Amanda’s comments as if it’s a given.”

  “She does?”

  “Yeah, he has that affect on the people around him, apparently.”

  “Yeah, yeah, go on. But, give me some hard, usable data.”

  “Okay. How ‘bout the explosion on Brownsville Road? That speaks volumes that it was our guys.”

  “Okay. I like that piece of evidence.”

  “And how ‘bout the fact that Phoenix was at our rendezvous at about the same time we’re trying to pick up our men?”

  “Yeah?”

  “That fact suggests we just missed ‘em. That it was due to Phoenix and his disruption.”

  “Point taken. Go on—”

  “Alright…tell me those riders heading south on Route 51 that were in hot pursuit don’t mean anything? They weren’t simply advance scouts. And, we wouldn’t have wasted a Hellfire otherwise. Your gut said so. You went for the launch. You know they were tracking for our men. And, they were moving with purpose in the same direction of our team if that same team, now combined, were trying to hook up at the second established extraction.”

  “True. But why have we not heard from them? Huh? My projections, as well as yours and Shamus put them in or around Perryopolis. Yet we heard nothing.”

  “A few hours of time matter on the ground. Pardon my
saying so, ma'am, but you know that. It matters a great deal. Those few hours can make a big difference. And our radio contact is sketchy at best from the bird. But, we’ll clear that up real quick when we return back there.”

  “Major, you know Phoenix will probably have already burned that town to the ground by the time we get there.”

  “Possibly.”

  “Probably.”

  “Okay, probably, like we discussed. But, if Phoenix does pass through Perryopolis, again with purpose, it only suggests our team remains in the game.”

  The colonel stood and paced, thinking hard. “True. Good point. In fact, we can assess the potential progress of our men by the progress of his army. Hey, I like that!”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Go on.”

  “Alright. If there’s a firefight going down in Perryopolis and our men have stuck around to help, we’ll be able to pitch in. And, if it’s none of the above, we still have the second rendezvous point to check in on at the hospital tomorrow.”

  “Okay. I do feel better, major. Thank you. Let’s begin preparation to leave.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’ll gather up the ladies and CJ.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Colonel Starkes tossed the papers onto the floor, walking toward Amanda and Nicole. Both were chatting in the next room. Major O’Malley joined up with Ren and Stimpy, each rinsing out spare clothing in a barrel filled with rainwater.

  “C’mon, guys. We’re headin’ out.”

  “I hear that, sir,” said Stimpy.

  A banging door across the weed-infested tarmac caught their attention. Bursting from the heliport control tower doors twenty feet away, Tim McDonald came running. He started pointing and talking from ten feet away. “Major, a coordinated team is coming down the road on horseback, about a mile away. They’re coming from that main road. They have drop offs hanging back on horses staggered up to that mountain pass. Radio stringers I think. I saw one radio.”

  “Hmm, I see. Good job, Lieutenant. How many? Anything else?”

  “I counted eight riders, well-armed. I think they're the advance team moving forward.”

  “They spotted us you think?”

  “I’m thinking yeah, in a general sense. Probably from some distance based on the time it took ‘em to round up men and come hunting. I figure they saw the bird and came—”

  “Why’d you not call it in on the radio, lieutenant?”

  “Tried, sir.”

  “What?” Major O’Malley checked his radio. Pushing the talk button, he received no response. “Shit!”

  “Ren!”

  “Here, sir.” Ren handed over his radio. Major O’Malley switched over to channel nine, speaking into it. He heard his voice coming out of Tim’s radio.

  “Dammit. Find me a fresh battery, lieutenant.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Ren.

  “We have some time before they arrive in our area, major.”

  “Alright, Tim. Back to the tower and keep an eye on ‘em.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Stay on channel nine as an active command com.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ll alert the team.”

  Tim McDonald dashed back to his tower post, sniper rifle held tight.

  In a rush, Major O’Malley returned to the office. “Ma’am!” He nearly collided with the three women. CJ smiled at the sight of him. Major O’Malley smiled back, but turned serious.

  “Major?”

  “Eight incoming men about a mile away. Tim caught ‘em coming on horseback. They’re coming from Route 40. Radio stringers in support.”

  “Lemme see.” Colonel Starkes pulled the map from her inside pocket, flipping it open. Quickly, she rushed to the table near the window to splay it out, tracing her finger to Masontown and working her way out to Route 40.

  “Should we engage, ma’am?”

  “Hold on, lemme think.”

  “They’re coming ‘cause they know we have a bird flying, ma’am,” said Amanda, “they saw it.”

  “Yeah,” said Nicole.

  “Shh,” said the major.

  Colonel Starkes studied the map, figuring out the logistics. Near her shoulder, the major did the same, lifting the radio to his lips.

  “Tim, do you copy?”

  “I copy, go ahead.”

  “The men you say are staggered behind the advance team, what’s the retro line? Over.”

  “Sir, they head back to that winding road that leads up into the mountain. Route 40. Over.”

  “Thanks. Update? Over.”

  “They're approaching three quarter's of a mile from our position.”

  “Understood. Wait for instructions."

  "Copy that. Waiting for further instructions. Out.”

  Major O’Malley noticed the colonel's intense concentration and thought. Patiently, he looked to Amanda and Nicole, ignoring the active movements of CJ who was trying unsuccessfully to garner his attention.

  “Let’s see what these guys wanna do, major.”

  “Ma’am?”

  “Have Tim project where they will arrive near our position. We'll have a party waiting for them.”

  “Okay.”

  “You and I will go out a hundred yards and say hello if it’s not too dangerous.”

  “Can I ask why, ma’am?”

  “Yeah, you can. I think this is a coordinated effort to see what’s up. Not just some local creampies wanting to take us on.”

  “And we gain…what, ma'am?”

  “That staggered set of men behind that team suggests they’re trying to stay in contact with a base of some type, right?”

  “Good point, I see.”

  “Might not hurt to say hello. If we can safely do it. Have the Professor power up. We’ll ready the team to leave on a second’s notice. You and I’ll hang back with a few men to see what’s up.”

  “Ma'am, I'd prefer to do it with you in the bird. I can have the—”

  “Oh, I know, major," interrupted the colonel, "but I’d like to play along on this one. I need the excitement for a change.”

  “Umm, okay, ma'am.”

  “Let’s see what they got.”

  “You sure, ma'am?”

  “Yeah, major," the colonel turned to Nicole and Amanda. "You two, back into the ‘copter.”

  “I’d like to be part of the team that meets them.”

  “No, Amanda. You won’t. Not now.”

  “Dammit.”

  “Sorry. I can’t risk it.”

  “I don’t like this shit, Hannah!” Amanda held up her hands in front of her, acquiescing. "Okay, okay. I understand. Damn, I miss getting into the thick of things.”

  “Don't worry you’ll have your chance, but not yet.”

  “I’m a dead-on shot, ma’am. Long range. I’ve had to do a fair share of killin’ since the Sickness.”

  “I understand that may be true, but right now you're not going anywhere. Get into the bird.”

  “Your loss, ma’am.”

  “Please humor me for awhile longer, Amanda.”

  Amanda shifted the strap of her Remington, easing it onto her shoulder. She turned toward Nicole. “C’mon, Nicole. Let’s get CJ settled in.”

  Walking toward the helicopter, Nicole touched Amanda's shoulder to catch her full attention. “Are you that good a shot?”

  “Put me up against Timmy McDonald, and I’ll show you sometime.” Amanda glanced behind her to make sure the major and colonel heard.

  Nicole explored her last comment. “Huh. No kidding, Mike tells me Tim’s the best.”

  “Hah! No offense, but Marty’ll show him and probably Scott and GT a few things, for sure. As for me, I’d hold my own with those guys. Well, at least up to 300 yards.”

  Nicole stopped walking. With obvious fascination, she gave Amanda a full once over. “Wow. I didn’t know that about you. Are you for real?”

  “Um, yeah. For real. I shot live ammo since I was four. Trained
by my granddaddy.”

  “I see.”

  “He was a military sniper, back when iron sights were more the norm.”

  “Iron sights? Oh. Right. No scopes.”

  “And, you know what?”

  “What?”

  “I’ve come to realize what Mac means about 'boredom killing him by inches'.”

  “Hey! He said that to me once! No kidding, he—”

  “And I’ll bet some serious shit went down right after that.”

  “Oh,” said Nicole. Lost in thought, she became silent.

  Amanda smiled and started walking.

  CHAPTER 10.15-A Trap is Made

  “That town’s a ghost town, sir,” said Kaiden.

  Larry approached and stood by his side studying Perryopolis. “You see any guards behind the walls? Any people moving around?”

  “No. Not a one. Nothing the past hour.”

  “Okay, I’m gonna let Phoenix know.”

  “Yes, sir.” Larry left, rushing back to Phoenix who was resting fully in the back of the pickup. A cigar hung lazy in his hand and he was deep in thought. Stepping past Tippy Cup lounging on the hood of the truck, Larry stood at the tailgate and tapped it a few times to garner attention.

  “Hey, Larry. What’s up?”

  “No signs of life in that town. But, the town looks fresh and well maintained. But again, like I said, no activity. No guards.”

  “Nothing at all?”

  “Nope.”

  “A trap?” asked Phoenix, clamping down hard on his cigar.

  “I say we send a team in to see what’s going on. Maybe ten men,” suggested Larry.

  “Go ahead, send in Commander Kaiden. Tell him to take the gates and give us the all clear.”

  “Yes, sir.” Larry held the radio to his lips and issued the orders.

  Phoenix smiled in anticipation. “We’ll blow in like fog on little cat's feet.”

  Ill at ease, Larry Reed shook his head. Tippy Cup hopped off the hood, concerned. He walked to the truck bed and looked in at Phoenix.