Paul Kirk - Devastation Point

With Tippy Cup holding the flashlight, they reviewed the faded map of Pittsburgh found a few days ago.

“Where’s the Ninth brigade?”

“Coming up a road called Nobles Lane off Route 51 up onto Brownsville Road. Making slow progress, but on their way.”

“Send ’em back down and tell ’em to continue heading up the bottom of Route 51 south to the intersection of Brownsville.”

“Okay. Yes, sir.”

“Let the Ninth know that it’s not likely that they’ll meet up with this rat-fuck team before Brownsville road, but to try to not get themselves blown up if they can fucking help it.”

“Understood.”

“I want everyone else not on a bike or quad running fast-footed after those fuckers like their lives depended on it.”

“For sure.”

“Make sure the log-sups set up a supply line for essentials and ammo only. Hold back a brigade to assist. Load as much extraneous supplies and equipment as you can onto the trucks. Keep ten men guarding the base supplies until we establish a new route and can come back for ’em.”

“Got it, Phoenix.”

“Find me a way around this pigshit! Now !”

“Working on it.” Larry relayed orders to his brigade commanders. He saw men gathering up loose equipment and move toward the wreckage near the library. They pushed a small winding passageway through the mess and there was a frenzied excitement in the air. Each man was eager to engage in battle.

“Tell each commander that the brigade that brings me the leader of this running Rat-Pack gets 40,000 credits when we return to Cleveland.”

“I’ll pass it along, nephew.”

“Make it clear that they’re to capture the boy and girl.”

“That’s already a standing order.”

“Tell Luke to keep an eye out for the next batch of explosives, that is, if he doesn’t fuckin’ mind. Let him know I’ll hold him personally responsible if any more of my men are blown up on this road.”

“Yes, sir.”

“How much C4 would it take to blow a hole that size, Tippy?”

“I dunno, a pound, maybe a pound and a half.”

“You think they got any more?”

“Based on my time in, top covert units carried at least two pounds as standard protocol.”

“You think this is a top-shelf unit we’re after?”

Phoenix swung closer to Tippy Cup, staring intently and waiting for an answer. Tippy Cup took a second to slip his left hand into his jean pocket while his right hand continued to hold a scarf pressed to his neck. “I dunno, sir.”

Phoenix continued staring at the small, wiry man. He appeared nervous and uncomfortable. Phoenix backed a step away. “Uncle, It’s obvious Tippy Cup knows more than he is saying, but apparently doesn’t want to be the bearer of, what he thinks, is bad news. Would you mind, being that I’m kinda pressed for time… would you mind letting Tippy know that he can safely speak what he knows, if you would, please?”

The tension in the air rose. Quickly, Larry stopped yelling orders into the radio, moving closer to the conversation. “What’s going on? Tippy, say what you gotta say. You hear me? You got a free pass right now. Isn’t that right, Phoenix?”

“Correct. There appears to be a slight window for that.”

Tippy Cup pushed the straggly blonde hair from his brown eyes, assessing his predicament. A calm confidence surrounded him, despite the blood seeping from his neck and the bustling chaos all around. At thirty-two, he was known as a fast-rising star tracker, near Luke in ability, and he’d made a name for himself in the slippery way he fought. Last year, his tactical strategy and overall presence during the annual Cleveland combat games came to the attention of both Larry and Phoenix. Pressing the bloody scarf harder to his neck, he decided he had little to lose after coming so close to death less than a half hour before.

“I think we’re dealing with an elite force and a top-notch leader.”

“Starkes?”

“No, sir. She and her team were probably pretty good, but this team right here comes across as more combat-seasoned, at least on the ground. Highly tactical.”

“In what way?” asked Larry.

“That’s a shitload of C4 just to blow a hole in a road and not kill but a few men. Better planning coulda caught up ten, maybe twenty times that amount.”

“So? They screwed up then—”

“No. That’s just it. That hole there’s meant to slow us down and string us out.”

“Hmm….”

“Plus…” Tippy Cup hesitated.

“Go on,” said Larry Reed, interested.

Phoenix stepped directly in front of Tippy Cup. “Your opinion’s got some weight, Tippy Cup, based on your military record and experience… don’t lose that being a fuckin’ hesitant pussy right now.”

“Yes, sir! It’s probably the same team that took those long shots down into the city, waiting until… well, waiting until we were sittin’ ducks on the bridges. Some fine shootin. And, it’s probably, likely anyhow, to be the same sniper guy and the same crew that fucked up our assault on the Hall of Fame. The same ones we tracked into the mill.”

“I see. You think the sniper’s waiting up ahead?”

“No sir, not yet. He’s probably running with the main force way behind the back cover team.”

“And why’s that?”

“This leader knows we have a large force comin’ their way. He saw it downtown. They took stock and made some nice shots at us and know we’re pissed. They probably figured out by now that we tracked them from Cleveland, or at least the mill now that they’ve seen us comin’.”

“So?”

“So, those shots on the bridge pretty much served the same purpose as the C4 did here.”

“To slow us down…” said Larry.

“Correct, sir.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Tippy. Why won’t the sniper be up ahead?”

“Oh, sorry sir, I thought I did. What I meant was he’s traveling with the main team ’cause he’s too valuable to be serving as the first line of defense near the rear guard.”

“If what you say is true, when will we meet up with him?”

“Umm, when the leader of this team wants us to, or we’re lucky and overrun them.”

“Your thoughts on that?”

“We’ll not overrun them tonight and not tomorrow. Probably not the next day either.”

“Why not?”

“Because they know where they’re going, probably know the terrain, have set up good rear defenses, are trying to string us out, are engaging the men up there now with their rear guard and will set up trap after trap unless we can gather our forces up ahead over the next few days and come at them full force.”

“Is that all?”

“Then, your men can take them at will. Patience will win the day.”

“Larry?”

“Yeah?”

“Give Tippy Cup a field promotion to brigade commander.”

“Sir? Yes, sir.”

“I want him by your side for the duration of this little excursion of ours.”

“Um, yes, sir.”

“I want you to listen to his advice and consider it at all times. Am I clear?”

“Understood.”

“Tippy?”

“Sir!”

“Keep talkin’ your nonsense. Maybe sometimes, I might even listen.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Take care of this clusterfuck, Uncle.”

“Got it.”

Larry Reed and Tippy Cup left Phoenix, moving toward the smoking hole. Phoenix lit a cigar and studied the bright stars coming up in the sky.

“Team Black? Do you copy?”

“Go Team Green, this is Black. Over.”

“We’re taking fire. Spence took a hit to his vest. He says there’s a whole slew of men, but they’re not the problem. Over.”

“What’s the problem, Green? Over.”