Devastation

by Paul Kirk

  “Sir? Do you have any orders or instructions? Over,” asked Commander Bastin

  After an additional pause, Mark spoke into the radio. “What did she say was her mission, commander? Over.”

  “They’re searching for a specific individual, sir. She suggested that we might be of assistance. Over.”

  “How can we help? Do you know who they’re looking for? Over.”

  “I understand that you’re holding a pre-hunt dinner with members of the MacMillen clan—is that right, sir? Over.”

  “Yes, commander, that’s right. But it’s not as important as offering our assistance. This dinner can be postponed. Over.”

  “Yes, sir, of course. Sir? Is Andy or Ryan MacMillen with you now? Over.”

  “Yes, commander, both of them are here and they’re listening to our conversation. Over.”

  “Sir, those two need to come over to the garrison ASAP. Over.”

  “Why’s that, commander? Over.” The entire table stared at Mark Harmon waiting for the answer to his question.

  A joyful laughter surfaced. Ryan MacMillen stood and walked around the table, continuing his laughter. Andy studied his brother, thinking hard and trying to figure out what Ryan had already concluded.

  Mark didn’t know why Ryan was laughing either, but was determined to find out. “Commander,” he said into the radio, “I asked why the MacMillens need to go to the garrison. Over.”

  “Yes, sir,” came the response. “General, they’re looking for Connor MacMillen. Over.”

  “Did you say they’re looking for Mac? Our Connor Mac? Over.” He stared at the men around the table, conveying his disbelief. Despite his shock, he felt a hopeful surge of emotion. His friend was still alive after all these years. He listened intently to the radio.

  “Yes, sir, that’s correct. They think Connor Mac might be around here somewhere, heading home. They’re trying to track him down since he passed through Cleveland. Over.”

  “Cleveland?” interrupted Harmon. “What the hell was he doing in Cleveland? Over.”

  “I don’t know yet, sir, but they’ve known of his general whereabouts for awhile and they know he’s come across the country from San Francisco. Over.”

  "Wow," said Mark, " He was in Australia five damn years ago. Over."

  "I know, sir. Over."

  JR and Cam stood. "We’re so going with you, Andy,” said JR—he wasn’t asking permission, he was stating a fact. The rest of the men also stood, nodding their heads in agreement.

  “Yep,” said Toby, “we’re coming along.”

  Andy stared at nothing, shocked. Ryan walked up to him and grabbed his arm. “How about that, brother? Mac’s here!” he said. He turned to face Mark Harmon. “Mark, tell the commander we’ll be there ASAP.”

  Mark relayed the information. “Commander, we should be there in less than ten minutes. Over.” He set the radio on the table and waited for a response.

  The men at the table were in the process of checking their weapons when the radio crackled. “Understood, sir,” said the commander. “You’ll be here in ten. Sir, Major McLoy confirms there’s a huge army on the way. They’re not friendly, sir. Repeat, not friendly. Credible reports of around two hundred well-armed men—some on horses, some in pickup trucks—coming our way. Over.”

  Mark knew his life and lives of the people at Nemacolin were shifting to a new plane, a new reality. The shift was happening quickly and the prospect excited him as he visualized potential battle plans. “Copy, commander. I’ll issue a full alert to all our people. Alert your people, commander—we are under full battle conditions. Over.”

  “Copy, sir. I have some details, sir, if you’d like to hear them. Over.”

  “Go on, commander. Over.”

  “There are at least a 500 men, sir. At least 200 are mounted on warhorses. The others are in about fifty-six pickup trucks, four-wheelers, dirt bikes or foot soldiers. Two or three pickup trucks are mounted with fifty caliber guns mounted in the beds. Over.”

  “Is there any idea of their intentions? Any idea why they’re coming here? Over.”

  “Sir, it appears they’re coming after Connor Mac and the team he’s with. The major says he pissed ‘em off in Cleveland. I guess Connor Mac prevented the leader of this group—his name’s Phoenix Justice—from kidnapping the president and stealing Marine One. Over.”

  Mark stared at the radio, dumbfounded. His entire world was shifting quickly. An army that size was formidable—infinitely formidable in today’s world. He began to visualize this invading army, well equipped and coming their way. He began to compare what he visualized to his own existing army and weapons. “Commander, what’s the time frame here? How long before they’re at your gates? Over.”

  “The major and the president speculate we have four hours, sir. Over.”

  Mark shivered at the thought. He extrapolated the potential carnage such an army would bring to the mountain and became angry. He knew this army had the easy potential to destroy what he had painstakingly built over the last five years. His community was a post-Sickness society, one that was successful. Admittedly, there was still much work to be completed on the mountain, but they were headed in the right direction—everyone was aware of the benefits of working as a community and their attitudes showed it. Mark became furious at the prospect of watching his burgeoning community being destroyed.

  “This is my mountain. Who the fuck does Phoenix Justice think he is? C’mon up the hill, Phoenix—I’ll be waiting!”

  “Sir?” Jake was concerned about his boss.

  Mark’s eyes cleared of intense anger and he silently thanked his friend, Connor MacMillen for teaching him the technique of regaining control of his emotions. Mark was a planner. He would adapt and scheme for his successes. He raised the radio to his lips, ignoring Jake. “Fill me in with any other details when we arrive, Commander. I’ll issue orders once we’ve had a chance to discuss the situation. Over and out.”

  Mark stared at the men around the table. Jake stood near, waiting for orders. “Jake?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Grab all the stuff in the secure room. Take some of these guys to help you. The pass code’s nineteen sixty-nine Cougar. That’s nineteen, sixty-nine, three, fifteen, twenty-one, seven, one, and eighteen. Okay?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Go!”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “Jake,” said Harmon. “I want you to initiate the full defensive prep plan for the entire community. I need Brad here now!”

  “He’s on his way, sir. We called him earlier.”

  “Good. Let’s get moving, gentlemen,” said Mark. He studied the men as they checked their weapons and headed for the door. They were moving with purpose and excitement—all except for Andy. “Andy?” asked Mark. “Everything alright?”

  Andy MacMillen stood like a statue, the bustling activity around him in deep contrast to his lack of motion. His face was pale and his eyes spoke of deep thought. At the news of Connor’s possible survival, he had paced for a few minutes before stopping abruptly, as if realizing something important. He turned to Mark Harmon.

  “Leave it to Connor Mac to piss off an army and bring it into our back yard.”

  “Andy,” reasoned Mark, “Mac wouldn’t do that intentionally.”

  “Oh, I know, Mark. It’s probably pissing him off though—knowing he’s brought this enemy into a place where he’s spent most of his life thinking of ways to defend. He might try to lead that army somewhere else—have you thought of that?”

  “We don’t know what’s going on yet, Andy,” he said, gently touching Andy’s arm. “C’mon, let’s go.”

  “You might not know what’s going on, Mark, but I do,” said Andy, walking reluctantly with Mark.

  “What’s that mean?”

  “It means Mac’s alive. It means he’s coming home, Mark,” said Andy. He could contain his emotions no longer. “Damn!” he said. “What the fuck!”

  Mark was taken aback
by the aggression behind Andy’s words. He considered Andy’s perspective and understood his venomous attitude. Here was a man prepared to marry his brother’s wife in a few days. “Oh . . ..” Mark’s face paled. “I see, Andy. Your situation . . ..” Mark’s words faded.

  “Right,” said Andy, chuckling at the irony. “I’m a dead man walking.”

  “Not necessarily, Andy. Ten years ago, Mac and I spent a lotta of time talking about apocalyptic scenarios. Yeah, sure, it was mostly over too big a fire, too many beers, and too late at night, but we did it enough that it was nearly second nature. We reached the point where we knew how the other thought.” Harmon paused, thinking about what he wanted to say.

  Andy maintained his silent disposition.

  “You know, Andy,” continued Mark, “Mac might still be coming our way. In our talks, it was always my job to build an impregnable fortress. That’s what I’ve tried to do for the last five years and it’s worked out pretty well, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, Mark, it’s great. I know you’re proud of this place, and you should be. But Mac will never understand what I’ve done.”

  Mark realized Andy had only heard half his words—the ones he wanted to hear. He began to understand with more clarity Andy’s sense of lethargy and paralysis—his friend Connor was on the verge of finding out Andy was within a few days of taking Connor’s wife as his own.

  “C’mon, Andy...he’d understand. He’d hafta understand. It's been five years, I think—”

  “I don’t think so, Mark. I’m definitely a dead man walking!”

  Ryan caught up to them, smiling. His smile widened when he saw his brother’s anxious concern. “He’s gonna kick your ass! You’re dead, bro!” The younger MacMillen hesitated and put an arm around Andy’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, man, I’ll explain it was the right thing to do. You waited five years, you know? Mac was in Australia when this Sickness came. We thought we’d never see him again—you thought he was dead.”

  Andy continued his pace, head down, and didn’t respond.

  “C’mon, bro...I’ll tell him you waited as long as you could. You know...outta respect.”

  “It won’t matter, Ry. I shoulda listened to you.” Andy’s face experienced a flurry of emotions. Fear, pain, excitement, and loss fought for predominance.

  “Andy, I know I got upset by it, I did, but after the initial shock of you and T being a couple...I have to admit, it made sense. It was a good fit. For sure. I’ll tell Mac that five years is a fair amount of time to wait.”

  “Thanks, Ry.”

  “You’re welcome. But, bro?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Mac is still gonna kick the living shit outta ya!” Ryan bounced away, checking with the others to make sure they had sufficient ammunition and their weapons were in working order. Despite his despair, Andy felt some elation over the news. His older brother was alive.

  Mark heard the exchange between the two and he considered Andy’s predicament. He was glad that his own plans for wooing Terry had failed miserably. He raised the radio to his lips. “Commander, do you copy?”

  After several moments the commander answered. “I copy, sir. Over.”

  “I never thought I’d say this cheesy line, commander, but...head ‘em off at the pass. Over.”

  “Yes, sir. Your message is understood. Over and out.” The commander’s voice had held a hint of amusement.

  A few yards away, Ryan grabbed Cam by the arm and motioned to JR to join them.

  “What’s up, Ry?” asked Cam as JR sidled up to them.

  "Hold here for a sec while I talk to Andy."

  "Okay."

  Ryan approached his brother. "Andy, we need to initiate H-4 protocol back at the clan."

  Andy stood distracted until the mention of 'Hunker down at maximum level', or H-4 as it was known in the clan's yearly drills. His eyes took on a clear focus and he nodded immediately. "I agree, bro."

  "Okay."

  Andy raised his hand to delay Ryan from leaving. "Hold up a sec, bro. I want T and Mac's kids over here."

  "You do? Why?"

  "I need to talk with T before this shit gets any deeper. And I want to have her here when Mac shows up so we can...um, at least lay it out all together, ahh—"

  "Okay, sure, I see. But why bring Liam and Shannon closer to the firefight?"

  "That's easy. 'Cause T won't come over here without them once she's instructed to come over. She won't leave them to hunker down without her. I know how she is. Plus, having those two kids here might give me a few minutes to figure out Mac's take on things."

  "His take? Shit, bro, he'll hug his wife and kids and then, I'll hug him and then you'll hug him and then he'll probably hug Mark."

  "True, it's the point after that I'm considering."

  "Hah! You think bringing Liam and Shannon over here is the right thing? Bringing over T, her, I can understand—"

  "She won't come, without them anyway. So tell her to bring them. Make it clear."

  "'Okay. You do know you're going to get seriously fucked up no matter what you do, right?"

  "We'll see."

  Ryan held his hand to his chin, thinking. He turned more serious. "Bro, I'll try to help you out."

  Andy laughed at his attempt. "Nah, you just want to see me get my ass kicked."

  "You could take him...you've had some advanced training since the last time." Ryan's voice held no conviction, though he tried.

  "Yeah, for a few minutes. Maybe more than I did when I was sixteen."

  "Oh, that was true drama, bro. At least—"

  "Talk to Cam and JR. Have them go right now."

  "Right." Ryan returned to Cam and JR. “I want you two to run like hell back to our place and bring Terry, Liam and Shannon back here to the hotel. They need to be here for this.”

  “C’mon, Ry,” said Cameron, “I’m going with you guys!”

  “I know you want to, Cam, but someone has to alert the rest of them to prepare for a full assault. Tell 'em Andy has initiated H-4 Protocol. Immediately."

  "H-4. For sure?"

  "Yeah," said Ryan, "I trust you two to do it. The clan needs to move now and Andy wants T. She won't come without her kids. So, I want you to bring Terry, Liam and Shannon back with you after the hunker down plans are in place—you got it?”

  “Yeah,” answered Cameron, not happy about the prospect of leaving, but knowing that a clan update would be required.

  “Here’s the thing, Cam. This goes for you too, JR. You guys have to keep the fact that Mac might still be alive completely to yourself. You can’t tell anyone. That’s news that, right now, I think only Andy should deliver. Understand?”

  “Yeah, Ry, I do.”

  “JR? You on board?” asked Ryan.

  “Yeah, I understand.”

  “When you guys are finished, we’ll need you back at the garrison ASAP. By then, I’m sure we’ll be needing ya.”

  CHAPTER 10.20-Wahlberg Unmasked

  “Okay, everybody, gather around,” said Colonel Starkes. The men circled the desk that held the map of Southwestern Pennsylvania. Amanda and Nicole kept to the back of the crowd with CJ resting on a chair in his makeshift carrier. The map showed an area from the western border of the state all the way to Somerset County, about one hundred miles directly east of Pittsburgh.

  Starkes waved her index finger between Pittsburgh and Perryopolis, a town situated southeast of the larger city, along Route 51. “We’re looking for a particular guy who might be around here somewhere.”

  “What he do, ma’am?” asked Captain Dawson.

  “We need to speak with him about a matter concerning national security, captain.”

  “Yes, ma’am—I’d like to know why,” he pushed. Nervous, Captain Dawson wanted to know for whom he was risking his life despite the fact he was addressing the President of the United States. Major McLoy nodded in agreement.

  “You guys will find out once we have all the pieces. In the meantime, what do you know of Perryopo
lis?”

  “It’s a secure town, ma’am,” answered Major McLoy. “It’s run by Commander Del Re—he’s a good man. He’s ex-military. Marines. Anyway, we’re on good terms with the town—we trade for their homemade brew.”

  “Okay, good. How smart is this Commander Del Re?”

  “Begging your pardon, ma’am, but what the hell’s that got to do with anything?” asked Captain Dawson. His irritation with the president had quite overtaken his trepidation. Major McLoy willingly permitted the latitude of his question.

  Hannah Starkes was saved the inconvenience of dealing with Dawson’s growing anger when a young lieutenant pushed through the circle of men. “I can tell you anything you need to know about Commander Del Re and the town of Perryopolis, ma’am,” he said. His ruggedly beautiful face wore a look of amused confidence and his tall, slim build fit his uniform nicely. When he smiled, he gave off an energy that piqued the colonel’s interest. He had a broad and sincere smile beneath soulful brown eyes that failed to hide the desire he felt for the leader of the free world—or maybe that’s what Hannah Starkes hoped the young man was feeling.

  “And...and who are you, soldier?” she asked sternly, trying to rein in her galloping emotions.

  “Ma’am, this is Lieutenant Chris Wahlberg,” interrupted Major McLoy. “He spent several months in Perryopolis before he ended up here.”

  “Why'd you leave, lieutenant?” asked the colonel.

  “It was a bit too slow for my taste, ma’am,” he answered. His dark eyes were bright with intelligence as he ran his strong fingers through his full wavy brown hair.

  Hannah felt as if his eyes were peering deep into her soul and that he felt amused and enticed by what he found there. Her blush deepened when she considered his strong hands and how his soft and gentle fingers would feel against her flesh.

  She shook her head sharply to help focus her mind on the task at hand. “Rather impressive,” she said to nobody in particular. She focused upon Keenan, not yet trusting herself to look again at the handsome and cocksure lieutenant. “Your lieutenant has some juice in the charisma department, major." She didn’t hide from the fact that the young man had caught her off guard. She turned a bit further and caught the eyes of Major O’Malley, who was smiling at her quick recovery. He nodded at her, indicating he understood her momentary lapse.