Paul Kirk - Devastation Point

The captain debated saluting both men, but decided against it for the time being—neither was in his chain of command.

“Colonel,” said John McLeod, “I need to bring the men up to speed, sir.”

“Yes, of course, major. See to it.” Connor watched McLeod disappear inside the KFC and turned to Captain Daubney. “I need a sit-rep now, captain. Both barrels.”

“Yes, sir.” The captain began to fill in the blanks for Connor—all the events that had occurred since the Hall of Fame. When the captain mentioned the name Phoenix Justice, Connor growled.

“Phoenix! You’re sure he’s the fucker on our ass right now?”

“Yes, sir,” answered the captain. “He’s maybe an hour away, if that. I believe he’s probably quite pissed at you, colonel.”

“That’s a two-way street, captain. We managed to thin his unit and slow him down when he tried to cross the West End Bridge. Mostly because of Surf Boy’s shooting.”

“Surf Boy?” asked the captain.

“The colonel gotta be talkin’ about Marty, captain,” offered Mickey.

“That’s right, Top,” said Connor. He noticed the cautious approach of a group of men. “Those, of course, are your men, captain?”

Captain Daubney glanced behind him. “Yes, sir, they’re mine.” He faced Connor again. “We took a shot at Phoenix’s convoy a few hours ago on the south side of the river. We took out their lead vehicles.”

“With the Hellfire?”

“Yes, sir, that’s right.”

“He’s the little panty waist who tried to take you guys down and nearly killed Amanda?”

“Yes, sir. His force is at least 600 men strong with plenty of horses and pickups. They moved as if they’re well-trained.”

“Well-trained, my ass. We’ll see how damn ‘well-trained’ they are when they come up against us. Top, I must say, I got a new reason for living, don’t I?”

The first sergeant smiled—he was taking a strong liking to Colonel Connor MacMillen. “Yes, sir,” replied Mickey. “Would you like a piece of Phoenix, colonel?”

“Count on it, Top. I’ll take little slices of his flesh inch by inch until he begs to die.” He took a moment to calm his breathing. He glanced at the radio in his hands and the white-knuckle grip he had on it. “Major, do you copy?” asked Connor into his radio.

“Yes, sir. I’m here. Over.”

“I want BB running overwatch, in case there’s any players around we don’t know about. Bring the rest of our team over here with weapons neutral.”

“Copy that, Mac.”

Connor faced the captain. “BB’s running near the Kroger’s. He’ll be well armed. He’s six-four and wearing a brown duster. But your men will never see him, captain. You should let your men know that he’s out there.”

The captain nodded. “Top, let the men know. Provide the description as well.”

“Yes, sir,” said Mickey. He spoke into his radio and Connor heard him say, “Yeah, it’s him… and his team.”

Connor’s team began to emerge from the KFC. The captain turned to assess the progress of his own team and was surprised to find that the first five men arriving had stopped about ten feet away, presumably not wanting to interrupt a conversation that might not be for their ears. The remainder of the team was on the way and about sixty yards behind, as they were instructed, to keep a safe distance apart upon approach. Daubney reached a decision

“Colonel?”

“Yes, captain.”

“President Starkes provided me some latitude on several items, sir.”

“Such as?”

“Well, sir, if I determined that everything is on the up-and-up with your command, I’m authorized to offer you complete control of my team.”

“Complete military control?”

“Yes, sir.”

“In your opinion, is everything on the up-and-up, captain?”

“Yes, sir, I believe so.”

“What about you, Top? Whatta you think?”

Mickey almost stiffened at attention. “Sir, the captain’s always had my full support. I trust him with my life, sir and he knows it.”

Connor studied the two men, considering the risk that the captain had taken in his approach. By extension, it had ultimately been the risk of President Starkes.

“I’m honored, captain, at your assessment of my value. I think you’re a man who can make fast and accurate decisions when it’s necessary. You’re DEVGRU, I’m sure of it. Your training’s showing. What team were you attached to?”

“Seal Team Six, sir,” answered the captain proudly.

“Excellent,” said Connor. “It’ll be a pleasure working with you and your men.”

“Yes, sir,” said the captain. He was satisfied with the transfer of command and would do as the colonel ordered.

Connor assumed command easily. “Top, my first order is for you to set four men to run a tight fifty yard perimeter around the KFC. Pick your best and, in the meantime, my men will acquaint themselves with yours.”

“Got it, sir,” answered Mickey. He turned and issued orders into his radio and Connor observed four men split away from a group further back on Brownsville Road. These men disappeared in pairs down side streets on opposite sides of the road while the rest of the group continued walking toward the KFC.

“Captain, I want a brief report on each man in your unit. President Starkes was confident about you handing off your team to a stranger?”

“You’re not a stranger, sir. She’s read your file. And, she told me that if you’re alive and competent, you outrank her by two months.”

“I see,” said Connor. “She’s a colonel? POTUS is a colonel?”

“Yes, sir. The current acting President of the United States is Colonel Hannah Starkes.”

“And she says that I outrank her?”

“Yes, sir. By two months and four days, sir.”

“She’s been voted in as president?”

“No, sir. She was declared president in Mount Storm. She was the highest ranking officer after the Sickness.”

“There’s no civilian chain of command, captain? No Commander in Chief?”

“No, sir. No political appointee survived.”

“Not one sad political hack made it safely into Mount Storm?”

“Oh, yes, sir—several made it there safely. Secretary of State Price, for one. But he died within the first week and the others not long afterward.”

“Wow.”

“Yes, sir. Not one sad political hack. Colonel Hannah Starkes is it,” said the captain, smiling at his own statement.

“Damn.”

“The colonel wanted to start off on the right foot with you, sir. She’s read your file and knows what you’re capable of. She says the existing military system and established protocol’s the only thing that might help us through this phase of rebuilding.”

“I think I’m gonna like Colonel Starkes.”

“Yes, sir.”

“She got you guys this far and knows what she’s doing.”

“She’s made us proud, sir, and I’m honored to serve under her command,” said Captain Daubney.

“Hoorah,” said Mickey, this one word affirmation spoke volumes to Connor.

“Colonel,” continued the captain, “President Starkes told us that we’d set up a civilian president when things settle down. She knows the country’s on rocky ground right now and she’s trying to stabilize it, sir. She’s all for civilian oversight, no matter what. Even if it comes with a bunch of warts and bruises.”

“I gotta meet this Colonel Starkes.”

“You will, sir. We rendezvous at 18:00 tomorrow at the Route 51 and Brownsville Road intersection with plans to return to Mt. Storm.”

“Who’s walking?”

“Sir?”

“I’m sure that Superhawk came out fully loaded. That means it can’t carry anything else. So… who’s walking?”