Paul Kirk - Devastation Point

“Not likely—to you hiding behind that tree.”

“We got you covered.”

“Yeah, you sure do. But, we’ll still get our licks in.”

“What’s your name?”

Keenan McLoy shifted in his mount, perplexed at the question. It was strange to be asked his name by the man who was planning to kill him. Recklessly, he decided he and his men would not go down easily. He would demand information.

“What is your name? You always hide behind trees?”

“I’m Major Mike O’Malley, contingent of the United States Army.”

Stunned, Keenan smiled at the implications. “Outstanding! That might mean we don’t have a problem, major. I’m Major Keenan T. McLoy of General Harmon’s army.”

Horses stirred. Keenan waited for an answer. A new voice filled the air but with no less command.

“Major McLoy, do you think we can conduct a civil meeting or should we continue pointing guns at each other?”

Surprised at hearing a strong female voice, Major McLoy was caught off guard. The words came from behind the same tree that’d first alerted him and his team to their predicament. Right as he was thinking this turn of events interesting, a beautiful woman stepped out from behind the tree in fatigues. She stood with her sidearm pointed to the ground.

“Ma’am!” said an insistent voice behind the tree.

The woman glanced at the man behind the tree, smiling and confident. A large man burst in front of her, shielding her, though he too, kept his weapon pointed downward.

“Major O’Malley, these guys are on a hunt to find our helicopter, they aren’t going to shoot me unless you shoot first, isn’t that right, Major Keenan T. McLoy?”

“Ma’am!” yelled Major O’Malley, insistent.

“At ease, major. Let’s cut to the chase here. Major McLoy, please have your men safe their weapons. I’ll have my men do the same.”

“And you are?” asked Keenan McLoy, interested.

“I’m Colonel Hannah Starkes. And, I’m President of the United States.”

At the disclosure, Keenan froze. Slowly, he eased off his horse and stood, keeping his weapon pointed well away from the colonel. And, with care, he switched his safety on, flicking his left hand into a fist with a fast signal for his men to do the same. Stunned, he stared at the bold woman less than twenty feet away.

“Is this for real, colonel? Um, Madam President?”

“For real, major.”

Keenan smiled toward his men. His hand signals a clear effort to calm his men, each glancing around in disbelief. “Wow, didn’t expect that today when I woke up.”

The colonel smiled. “Yeah, the day’s been full of surprises.”

“I’d say so.”

Keenan’s men began whispering to each other trying to figure out what was happening. Prodding the discussion along to keep her and her men safe, Colonel Starkes pointed and smiled once more. “Bring your men along with us, major. We can talk about what’s going on. Can I trust that you have full control of your men?”

Keenan McLoy turned toward his men and their expressions of inquisitive disbelief were priceless. He examined the cold countenances of the team surrounding his men. He knew he had little choice. His team was out of their league. Clearly, these men had the ability to have taken them down without the gracious warning. And, the brazen behavior of the beautiful woman lent some credence to her statements.

“My men can be trusted to follow my orders, Madam President.”

Shockingly, the President of the Untied States simply strolled up to his position, raising her hand in greeting. The huge man with red hair and weapon drawn stayed by her side, obviously angry. Major McLoy did his best to ignore the man beside her for the moment.

“A pleasure to meet you, major.”

Men staring all around him, Keenan McLoy grasped her small hand and shook. “Umm, yes, ma’am.”

“I’m sure you have questions.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“We have questions as well. Please join us for some food and discussion.”

“Okay. Sure. Sounds good. Yeah, sounds real good.”

“This way.”

“’Kay. Men form up.”

“Can they walk their horses for me, major? Those on horseback place my men at a tactical disadvantage.”

“I see. Yeah, sure.” Keenan waved for his men to dismount. Slowly, they all did so and waited.

Colonel Starkes smiled and nodded. “This is all of you, correct? Except for the radio stringers back to base?”

“Stringers? Oh, yeah, this is all. Can I call this in, Madam President?”

“Let’s shift to more informal terms, can we? You’re not yet in my chain of command. Please call me Hannah. Can I call you Keenan?

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

“Okay. Good. And, Keenan, you can call it in to your commander once we talk a bit, if that’s okay.”

“Umm, okay.”

“Come this way. Keep in mind we have an experienced sniper on cover.”

“Oh. Shit.”

“Not to worry, Keenan. I’m only letting you know.”

“Much appreciated, um, Hannah.”

They walked the hundred yards to the heliport with the five-man team running a beautiful protective bubble around the president and her new charges. The broad-shouldered major had a stern tilt to his jaw and remained tight to the president’s side. He exuded a repressed fury, presumably at the risks she had taken over the past few minutes. Walking beside the major and the president, Keenan overheard a few frustrated, but insistent, comments in this regard.

Keenan evaluated where they were going. He could see the Masontown Heliport in greater detail as they approached. He was quite impressed by the efficient way the president’s team moved as a finely-tuned unit. He was captivated by the firepower and protective gear each man had. Arriving near the gate, the entire party stopped at the command of Major O’Malley.

“Coming in, alpha tower one, do you copy?” said Major O’Malley.

“We copy. We have you coming in. Over.”

“We’re bringing in eight men. Their weapons are safed and neutral, but not confiscated. Understood? Over.”

“Weapons safe and neutral but in play. Copy that.”

“Bravo team, bringing in friendlies, weapons safe and neutral, but not confiscated. Do you copy?”

“Copy that.”

Major O’Malley turned to the colonel. “We’re good to go, ma’am.”

“Thanks, major.”

“Keenan, c’mon. Make sure your men know to keep weapons outta their hands for the next few minutes. Things can get kinda dicey comin’ in on my men.”

“Sure.” Keenan nodded to each of his men, making it clear to keep their weapons stowed as they walked across the tarmac; all newcomers stared at the beautiful helicopter, rotors spinning down.

“Wow,” said Keenan, “is that… Marine One?”

Walking closest to Keenan, Major O’Malley sought calm, trying to figure out the new man. Studying Keenan, he sensed a confidence beneath a bubbling youthful exuberance. The younger man was powerfully strong in his legs, shoulders and arms, but this was easily overlooked due to his handsome face and bright gray eyes. Thinking the young man carried himself well as a natural leader given the circumstance, Major O’Malley decided to answer, somewhat mollified.

“Sorta. The designations correct ’cause it’s carrying POTUS. But that’s an H-92 Superhawk, a badass bird if there ever was one.”

“Wow. So this is most definitely for real, huh, major?”

“As real as it gets, major.”

“Call me Keenan, please.”

“Alright. I’ll consider you the real deal for now, Keenan. Don’t fuck with us, I mean it. I’m Major Mike O’Malley. Call me Mike.”

They shook hands, Major O’Malley feeling the last vestiges of his anger at the colonel’s risky action begin to fade. He nodded to several of his men nearby, who lessened their intense scrutiny of the newcomers. Coming up on the small hanger near the Superhawk, they saw two women, one holding a small child, emerge from the helicopter bay. The spinning rotors slowed, a sign that an imminent takeoff was no longer a priority. Glancing left inside the heliport area, Keenan saw two men, well-seasoned veterans by the looks of them, stepping toward them from the hangar doors. Colonel Starkes and her team stopped, waiting for GT and Scott, Nicole, and Amanda to make their way toward them. Nicole spoke first.