Paul Kirk - Devastation Point

“Let me work on it, sir.”

“Maybe you should unload Gabby for the time being.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mickey gently woke the young girl and sent her off to Rhonda. He grabbed his pack from Jason’s horse and began walking back and forth along the length of the bridge, searching for a solution to the problem and waiting for additional orders.

“Form up, men,” said Connor. “Listen up! Everyone!”

They all came together at the north abutment of the bridge.

“Major McLeod, I want you to coordinate the crossing of the bridge. Assign a detail to move that car far enough to allow your horses to pass. Take this group five hundred yards beyond the south end and scope up the hill. I wanna know the second anyone starts coming down there. Top, Captain Daubney, BB, and Edgars, I want you here giving me your best advice about destroying this bridge.”

“We’re gonna blow the bridge, colonel?” asked Daubney.

“I don’t know yet, captain. It depends on what you guys can tell me. Study the structure, boys. You got five minutes—after that, we put our heads together and see what we can come up with.”

They spread out in different directions, BB and Captain Daubney ran quickly to the north, the first sergeant, Edgars, and Connor headed toward the south end. In the middle of the span, Mickey set down his pack, opened it, and withdrew a sturdy nylon cord with which he fashioned a makeshift harness. He looped it through his legs and under both arms. He attached the other end of the cord to the steel pipe atop the concrete barrier and quickly disappeared over the side of the bridge. BB reached the north abutment and disappeared under the bridge, but Daubney continued to run north where the road turned nearly ninety degrees and began its ascent of the hill they had just traveled. He stopped about a hundred yards up the hill where he turned and studied the bridge, his location giving him a better perspective of how the bridge was built.

It was a single span over-arched bridge, common around the area for four-lane roads carrying heavy traffic. It had done its job for several decades and while it had once been well maintained, it hadn’t seen a coat of paint for at least five or six years and was beginning to show the signs of neglect.

The men convened in the middle of the bridge after five minutes. Connor and BB helped Mickey to the road surface. “Thanks, colonel,” he said—almost shyly. “Thanks, captain,” he added. He shook himself loose from the harness and untied the nylon rope from the steel pipe.

“Whatcha find out, Top?” asked Connor while the others gathered around.

“Well, sir, it’s a bit difficult to see under there, but some of those girders are pretty spattered with pigeonshit and they’re starting to flake rust, but my guess is that this bridge could stand another ten or twenty years if it’s untouched. I’m not sure we have enough explosives to drop it in the river, colonel.”

“I found the same thing, sir,” added BB. “At the north abutment, there’s some serious rust on the bearing plates, but there’s a lot of material left. It’s a solid connection, colonel.”

“Captain Daubney, what about you?” asked Connor.

“It’s a sturdy bridge, colonel—built to last, but it’s possible to bring it down.”

“How would you go about it, captain?”

“It’s supported by a single arch, sir,” said Daubney, pointing skyward. “We could set small charges at the apex of each of the two arches and split them. It’s the most vulnerable point on the bridge.”

“You sound skeptical of your own plan, captain.”

“Yes, sir. There are two flaws, colonel. One is that we don’t have a remote detonator—we’d have to set a fuse and I’m not sure we have one long enough that would allow whoever lit it to get away safely.”

“What’s the other flaw, captain.”

“The other flaw, colonel, is that engineers build bridges with double and triple redundancy. Sure, the top of that arch is its weak point, but I can’t guarantee that severing it would put the bridge in the river.”

“Edgars? Anything to add?”

“No, sir, except that the bridge is rusting away. But I’m with the first sergeant, colonel—it’s gonna take a decade or two for this thing to fail.”

“Okay, guys, it was worth the effort to try, but I think we gotta give up our hope of destroying this bridge. Let’s move out.”

“We’re ready to go, sir,” answered Mickey for all of them.

“Okay, good. Captain Daubney, same setup. Assign a two-man team for front guard and two two-man teams for rear guard. Change ’em out every hour.”

“Yes, sir.”

The five men walked briskly to where the main force was and as Connor passed by John McLeod, he said “you’re with me, major.”

“Okay, colonel.”

The two men walked south at a quick pace, John McLeod leading his horse. The front guards sprinted past them and were eventually lost in the shadows of each side of the road. If they did their job right, Connor would have trouble spotting them.

“That’s a bit disappointing, Mac.”

“What’s that, John?”

“Not being able to blow the bridge.”

“It doesn’t matter. It would have slowed Phoenix down, but it wouldn’t have stopped him. If we can keep moving ahead of him, we’ll be okay.”

“Whatcha find out back there, Mac? Why’d you decide to leave the bridge?”

“Well, if we had enough explosives, I would’ve tackled it, but we don’t have enough to put it down and I’m not willing to take the chance with the last of our C4.”

They continued their easy stride chewing up the miles. The entire unit, except the front and rear guards, kept pace with the two. The speed of their pace was beyond the stealthy comfort level usually kept in unknown territory. The upside was that they made good time throughout the night, stopping only for brief rests and slowing only for sounds that weren’t immediately identifiable.

It was Marty’s second turn at front guard when he returned to Connor’s position at a fast trot.

“Mac, there’s a town over the crest of the next hill.”

“Yeah, I thought it might be coming up, Surf Boy. Let’s go take a look. Captain Daubney, call a halt, set a couple of perimeter guards, and I want you to join me for a little recon on top of that hill. Get BB, Roger, and Mickey to join us. John and Surf Boy can come with us, too. Captain, you can catch up. Let’s go.”

They double-timed it to the top of the hill and studied the town with night vision binoculars. Captain Daubney and the rest of the team reached them thirty seconds later.

“What town is this, colonel?” asked the captain.

“It’s Perryopolis, captain,” answered Connor, studying the signs along the road only a few hundred yards away. Trespassers will be shot. No questions asked read one. Turn around now and you won’t die said another.

“They’re a friendly bunch,” grumbled Mickey. “What are we walking into here, sir?”

Connor smiled as he studied the distant town. “That’s a quaint little town, Top. Well, it used to be.”

“How much distance do you think we put between us and Phoenix, colonel?” asked McLeod.

“We got some breathing room for now, major.”

“Yeah, colonel, I’m sure we have some breathing room, but how far do you think we’re ahead of them?” asked Captain Daubney.

“We made about twenty-five miles so far, captain. Pretty damn good march. Make sure you all let your men know I’m pleased.”

“They’re used to traveling, colonel. Are we going down there?”

“No, captain. We rest here. We’ll break for four hours sleep here while you, Surf Boy, BB, Mickey, Roger and I go check out Perryopolis before we move on past.”