Paul Kirk - Devastation Point

“Oh, Kaiden, I can assure you she is not looking for them with the same level of desire as you see standing before you.”

“No, sir. We’re trying harder for the same target.”

“You may be right,” said Phoenix, “But why? That’s the question—I believe that this man, this Connor MacMillen is who we’re huntin’ here. He’s the bastard that’s leading that Rat Pack, I’m sure of it. Which, if my numbers are right, keeps increasing in size. Hmm, and, he must be something special for that Bitch to keep coming after him like this. I mean, what ? She’s waited weeks for him back home and, only now, in the past day, does she start firing off Hellfires like they’re fuckin’ candy. Right when we’re nipping at the bastard’s heels. ”

“Yes, sir.”

“And, think about it—why now? Why all of a sudden, when we get to Pittsburgh, when we’re tracking this Rat Pack? What, she just magically shows up, following this team, the same men we’ve tracked for so long?”

“I’m not sure, sir.”

“I think there was a disconnect and reconnect somewhere in this equation.”

“Yes, sir.”

Phoenix broke from his thoughts, realizing he was strategizing out loud. He stared at Kaiden, blinking several times, changing mental focus. “We’ll travel as one entire army at this point. I know that Bitch only got one of those Hellfires left from our intel back home. I’d like to think it unlikely she picked up anymore lying around, but you never know. Right now, we’ll set up an aerial defense that’ll be sure to shoot that bird outta the sky next time she comes around. Am I clear, commander?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Make it happen.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Send Larry over here. Talk to the brigade commanders under my orders. Get this army ready to move. Dismissed.”

“Sir!”

“Hey, T?” Andy sauntered into the large kitchen, excited about spending the next three or four days away from the bustle of the wedding preparations that were now such a common sight for the clan.

“Yeah?” said Terry. She glanced up from her work at the table. Many of the clan women smiled or nodded at his entrance and he said hello.

In eight days, they were set to be married in a joint ceremony along with Kevin and his bride. Andy relished the thought. But, the twenty-four hours, seven days per week daily prep and the continuous attention to wedding details that seemed unnecessary had taken its toll on the men in the clan. He had learned that weddings took an incredible amount of time, creativity and coordination. Things had to be “just so” on this and “just right” on that. Scrap one set of viable plans for another based on a glance, a frown or a furrowed brow. All the investment of time wasted. Try as he might, he was glad to have a brief respite.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” asked Andy.

“Sure,” said Terry.

“Me and the guys, we’re going to skip the offer of Lower Turkeyfoot and the fishin’ for now.”

“Skip fishin’? Am I hearing you right?” Terry stopped twisting a frilly table decoration of some kind and stood, gently rising from her chair. She made an effort not to bump the hands or arms of those next her. She waded her way through the crowded kitchen and women actively engaged in various conversations, each touching, stroking, or twisting the vast array of colorful items on the table.

Terry came near and Andy wrapped an arm around her shoulder, walking her into the huge living room where there was more room to talk. “Yeah. We’re going to do something a bit different.”

“Hmm, that white envelope Jeff gave you from Mark Harmon this morning have anything to do with your change of plans?”

“What do you mean? Mark who?” said Andy, placing a hand to his shirt pocket, shielding the letter from view.

“I know Harmon’s had something up his sleeve the past few weeks. What is it? A sleazy Nemacolin bachelor party of some kind?”

“No. Not his style.”

“ No ? What do you have there?”

“Where?”

“In your pocket.”

“Nothin’, why?”

“Show me. Is it an invite to a bachelor party?”

“No, it’s an invite to a huntin’ party.

“A hunting party?”

“Mark asked if I wanted to have a bachelor party the night before the wedding, you know, in the more traditional sense, but I talked him outta that.”

“A hunting party?”

“Yep, you know how he’s got those fenced game lands on the back property of Nemacolin, right?”

“Uh huh.”

“His game keepers say the pheasants hanging around on those 1000 acres are a damn nuisance. They’re pushing out the grouse and dove. Mark asked if we’d help drop a few birds during the day and drink a few whiskeys with him in the night.”

“Mark said this?”

“He did. Here.” Andy handed over the top-quality stationary and waited for Terry to finish reading.

“Oh, that’s brilliant of him,” said Terry, laughing.

“What?”

“Hah! He’s getting you guys to hunt dinner for our own wedding.”

“Works for me, whiskey and shootin’. Sounds good.”

“How many pheasant does Mark want you guys to take?”

“As many as we can. He said he hopes me, Kev, Ryan, and the ushers could bring in at least thirty to forty birds total, taking as many days as we need.”

“Huh.”

“I told him three or four days outta do it.”

“Hmm…”

“We’re pretty excited, T. He’s offered to supply the ammo as a bonus.”

“And he’s supplying the whiskey?”

“I’m assuming.”

“You guys gonna eat?”

“I’m assuming.”

Terry laughed. “You don’t care if you eat, do you?”

Andy wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. His desire was evident and he nuzzled his chin and lips into her hair. Terry shivered when his hot breath dropped to a whisper. “You, huntin’, and whiskey. Who needs food?”

“I… I gotta help with the wedding table centerpieces.”

“Yeah, you do. But not right now.”

“But I do.”

“No, you look… tense… I need to help relax you.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah, I need to say a proper goodbye to my future wife before we head out in the early morning to Nemacolin.”

“I see. So… you’re doing this ‘relaxation’ for me?”

“I am… now quit talking and make your way upstairs. I’ll work my way up in five minutes.”

“Oh, like no one will know, Andy.”

“Keeps up appearances.”

“Yeah, me disappearing from helping out on my own wedding table settings right when you show up.”

“It’ll give ’em something to talk about.”

“Oh, it will that.”

“Go.”

“I’m going… you better plan on some solid relaxation, buddy.”

“Bank on it.”

Terry forced her walk through the living room into a casual stride; at least she seemed to think so. She restrained herself from dashing up the stairs. Smiling, she felt like a schoolgirl playing hooky for the first time. Glancing back, she saw Andy walking out onto the deck. She began counting the minutes until his arrival. She was waiting in the master bedroom. The sheets were cool on her naked skin.

“That’s a real helicopter, Georgie!”

“I see it, Jacob.”

“Where’s it going?”

“I dunno. Near Masontown, I think.”

“What for? Who is it?”

“Gimme them.” Georgie snatched the binoculars from his little brother’s hands. Bored, they had made a game out of naming cloud formations, clinging onto the wall of the plated steel platform built above the huge metal gates of the Harmon Toll Exchange. Holding the binoculars tight to his eyes, Georgie peered down the mountain road into the long valley below, seeing a wide panorama of Uniontown, Hopwood, and Masontown, visible in the crisp fall afternoon.