Paul Kirk - Devastation Point

Giddy, Phoenix read the signs above the many buildings off the main street pushing through town. Refocusing the binoculars, he was drawn back to a sign that said Gold & Jewelry. “Shit!” he grabbed the radio, “Uncle, radio the commanders! Keep the men out of the jewelry store. Do it! Do it, now!”

Larry was frantic in his radio communications, but despite his best efforts, two more loud explosions pulsed past them with a volume suggesting many men had fallen.

“Fuck!”

Larry listened, responding to the radio. “Commander Kaiden says he’s made it to the southern gates. He’s opened them. We have an exit.”

“Instruct everyone to double-time it to the gates. Ignore any assholes that deviated from the road and into the buildings. Those pieces of shit deserve what they got!”

The three white trucks barreled through town, following the army to the gates. Phoenix ignored the bumps on the dirt road through town until another explosion boomed right behind them. Steadfastly refusing to look, Phoenix smiled at the misadventure of those men. “Uncle! We got us a man among men in that Rat Pack colonel—let’s push beyond this gate. And, when we’re clear, I sincerely want you to blow the complete fuck outta this shit town.”

“We have injured men scattered behind us Phoenix, we need to stop and assist.”

“Negative! They dug their own graves by disobeying a direct order. And you know what? Now we received a bonus handed to us by none other than that Rat-pack prick. Oh, yeah! Now, we just cleared the stupid outta our ranks. Where’s Luke?”

“Um, up near Kaiden—Phoenix?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re one crazy bastard, you know that?”

Phoenix laughed at the insult. “It’s how you manage men in large packs, uncle. Patton taught me that.”

“General Patton?”

“Once again, is there another Patton worth talking about?”

“Guess not.”

The bulk of the army made it through the town, converging in a large field beyond, waiting for stragglers. Once everyone was there that was going to be there, Phoenix issued orders to form up. The emerging plan was for the men were to assault the town with everything they had, razing any building to a height of no more than six inches. Larry Reed nodded in understanding and gave final orders to destroy the town.

“This town’s gonna cook for days by the time I’m done, Phoenix,” said Larry. He was angry at the loss of men. Caught in the fury of planned destruction, Larry grinned at Tippy Cup who suddenly dropped to the ground with his head snapped sideways. Seeing the event occur, Phoenix dove into the open door of the truck. Larry Reed scrambled to the other side, doing the same. Ducking down, Phoenix cranked the engine, shifted in gear and stomped the accelerator to head south and away, bumping around and back onto Route 51.

“Issue orders to fall back from the town and follow me, now!”

Larry Reed yelled into the radio, raising his head to peer out the rear window. More men were firing into the town at random targets. Three men on horseback slumped from headshots, tumbling off before the men operating the .50 caliber started firing off indiscriminate rounds from the pickups. A man in the bed of a pickup launched an RPG toward the town, only to snap sideways and over the side.

“Get’em moving! Now! Regroup. Outta range! Over that small ridge!”

Larry Reed radioed instructions and, at his insistence, the men nearby took off on foot, running. Surprisingly, the men on foot were untouched but, the trucks took heavy fire, as they sped away in a dust cloud. The horses scattered away and Phoenix was boiling mad. The Brigade commanders established a rear guard and over twenty sets of binoculars searched the town and surrounding fields for movement. Next to each man, another lay prone with a rifle, waiting for any sighting. Out of the truck, Phoenix went to each commander, instilling a sense of fury not ever seen before. His wrath galvanized the men to reform into a seriously pissed off army, ready to rain death and decimation onto the small town.

“We need a head count, Larry, before we go back at it.”

“Sure. Hold.”

Larry sought out the commanders, obtaining a sit-rep. His face was grim.

“We lost nineteen men total. Four horses. One truck. One quad.”

“That all?”

“Is that all?”

“Including our little trip through town?”

“Yeah.”

“Good, that’s within parameters,” said Phoenix. He smiled, staring at the town they’d just survived. Deep in thought, he ignored the astonished look of Larry Reed.

“We lost nineteen men, nephew—”

“Yeah, I hear ya. Nineteen men. And they were mostly the stupid shitheads that couldn’t follow orders. C’mon! How obvious is that, huh? Trying to sneak into a bar or jewelry store for fuck sake.”

“Damn! I see. You’re talking about the ninety percent compliance rate—”

“Exactly. Though, I do put Tippy Cup and those cavalry men in the heavy loss column.”

“Now what we gonna do?”

“What else? We’re going to find the Rat Pack colonel and his little minions.”

“Are they here?”

“Yeah, I think they’re still around here. And, I want to set up a little trap for them.”

“How so?”

“We’re going to act like we’re gonna blow the shit outta this town and hunt down that sniper in retaliation. But, while that’s certainly true, I want you to send Luke and all his trackers to fan out on this south side of the town in a large arc. I want Luke and his team to keep an eye out for the Rat Pack as they try to slip past us in all the confusion. And they will.”

“Help me out, Phoenix, What you talkin’ about?”

“That fantastically accurate sniper we talk about just performed his role rather nicely. Once again. But, to me, that mean’s that fuckin’ Rat Pack stayed to help out a bit too long, don’t it? Hah! Now, the way I see it, the Rat Pack colonel is planning to run the hell away from here to wherever the fuck he’s going. Way I figure it, him and his team are planning to do an end around right now in all the confusion, even as we speak.”

“You mean, they will slip away?”

“He’s made a mistake , the bastard made a mistake trying to help out this piss-ass town!”

“Oh.”

“He never shoulda hung around helping out. Oh, he’ll die for it! Of that, I’m sure. Send Luke and the men out after ’em, now!”

Larry radioed Luke, laying out instructions. After that, he instructed the brigade commanders to level the town.

“Stop right there!”

Keenan McLoy and his men snapped to a stop atop their horses. Guns ready, they faced the voice behind the tree on the side of the road in front of them. Near the Masontown Heliport, traveling the two-lane blacktop, they had been discussing settling down for dinner. The six-hour trip of high vigilance scouting had proved disappointing. But, seeing the five fierce men surrounding them in a semi-circle behind them laid to rest any thoughts of an uneventful evening.

“Shit!”

“State your purpose!” yelled the deep voice behind the tree.

Keenan McLoy nodded to his men to hang tight, not do anything stupid. He decided to answer, if for nothing more than to better gauge the enemy’s strength, position and intent.

“Reconnaissance. We’re here to check things out. But, okay, we can leave the way we came—no problems.”

“Explain your reconnaissance.”

“A report says a helicopter landed somewhere near here. Made sense it was over at the heliport seeking usable fuel.”

“Lower your weapons,” said the deep voice from behind the tree.

Keenan McLoy quipped a small laugh, studying the five men pointing weapons at him and his men. He knew they were in no position to adequately defend themselves, but decided, with some luck, they might pop off a shot or two before dying.